call me 📞 ( 𝗿𝗶𝗿𝗶 ) SFW blog // suggestive themes. [ 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ]
─── 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 are closed ( for now. ) 𝐲𝐞𝐬 : texts, drabbles for texts or longer fics, i will take requests subjectively , 𝐧𝐨 : no incest no noncon / dubcon no age play no mlm . only enha . #𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 writes for 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 and 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍 . 水 滴 石 穿
hi everyone! i wanted to come on here to talk about a current situation surrounding jungwon wearing a very disrespectful shirt towards the kazakh race. which was shown in the recent bloody paradise dance tiktok.
i’m not very educated on this whole topic but from what i know is that borat, (the movie the character is from) was made to disrespect kazakhstan and and make fun of them. from my understanding this made a lot of kazakh engenes upset, which i would get if it was my own culture as well.
the best we can do is educate ourselves on this before being quick to hate on jungwon for it, as well as holding him accountable until we get an apology. i’ll put the pictures and more explanation down here. please boost this as much as you can!
honestly, im just really glad he apologized and took the tiktok down. that was the bare minimum, but he actually did it quickly, and that means a lot. it shows he actually listened instead of just waiting for the noise to die down.
what i appreciate most is that he didn't hide behind the company or put out some vague statement that says nothing. we've all seen that happen way too many times with other idols—where they stay silent for days and then their agency drops some PR-approved "we regret any misunderstanding" junk that feels so fake. jungwon owned up to it himself. and it made me respect him more as a person, not just as an idol.
i really hope kazakh engenes feel seen and heard now, because their feelings were 100% valid. and i hope this is a learning moment not just for jungwon, but for all of us—to be more mindful and educate ourselves before jumping to conclusions, whether that's defending blindly or attacking without context.
me watching jake larp messi, niki announce kanye his dream collab, heeseung cover chris brown and jungwon wear that weird ass fuck shirt all in one sitting:
♡ when heeseung agrees to test jungwon’s new dating sim game, girlfriend simulator, he expects a dumb, half finished game, until he boots it up on his switch, the screen glitches, and he’s dragged straight into the world he just created. the “girlfriend” character, you, isn’t scripted at all; and heeseung has to figure out how to get out while accidentally developing feelings for a girl who inconveniently does not exist in real life.
♡ pairing: heeseung × fem!reader | ♡ genre: fantasy; romcom; fluff; comedy; light sci fi; college au; game simulator; slow burn; smut (mdni) | ♡ playlist: gameboy - katseye | jellyous - illit | super shy - new jeans | i am shampoo - bibi | turn it up - pinkpantheress | sun and moon - aespa | ♡ wc: 37k
♡ ronnie notes: hi guyssss!! hope you enjoy this fic 🫶 i wanted to make this as a little celebration for hitting 4k followers here hehe i’ve been writing this for a while and i lowkey think it’s about to become my little favorite / comfort fic around here!! i’ve always wanted to write something with a gaming theme because i am a gamer (derogatory) so huge thank you to my sister @iyoonjh and @hoonieyun and @jayflrt for helping me with everything league of legends related because yeah i was dumb enough to write league scenes without ever having played that shit myself lmaoo anyway i really hope you guys like girlfriend simulator
HEESEUNG'S FAVORITE PART OF ANY GAME WAS THE DIALOGUE OPTIONS. Little boxes that told you exactly what to say and exactly what would happen after. Real life should've come with that feature. would've saved him a lot of trouble. He wasn't completely hopeless, though. He had friends, he could hold a conversation if he had to. But there was always this gap between what he meant and what came out, or worse, between what he said and how people reacted to it. Like everyone else had gotten a patch update on social interaction and he was still running on the default version.
Maybe that's why dating never quite worked for him. Every time he tried, he felt like he’d missed a tutorial somewhere. He could talk, sure, and he could be funny when he wanted, but halfway through a conversation he always drifted, like thinking about assignments or projects or that interesting research thread he'd meant to look into. People would smile at him politely, the kind of smile that told him they’d already made up their mind: sweet guy, but not for me.
The last time he'd tried going on a date, he’d barely made it through an hour. He’d checked the timestamp afterwards and realized he’d spent exactly forty eight minutes pretending he wasn't thinking about a bug he’d found in his graphics project. He’d texted Jungwon: "bro i think i fumbled bad." Jungwon had sent back a voice note where he laughed so hard he hiccuped. Comforting, in its own way.
Jungwon was one of like three people Heeseung could be around without keeping a mental checklist of normal things to say. They’d been friends since first year when they got paired on a project and realized they both worked better at two in the morning with no one else around. Jungwon was quiet in the same way Heeseung was, but also completely unhinged when it came to code. He’d get an idea and just lock in for days. So one afternoon, while Heeseung was in the lab pretending to fix code he’d actually broken on purpose because he didn’t want to admit he didn’t understand it, Jungwon walked in with that mischief look. He sat down next to him, opened his laptop, and said, "ok, don’t make fun of me, but I made something."
Heeseung didn’t look up. "Is it stable this time?" which was generous, because Jungwon’s projects were never stable.
"Define stable," Jungwon said, clicking through a folder that had way too many warning icons. "Anyway, it’s a dating sim."
That finally made Heeseung look. "A dating sim? Why?"
"Research." Jungwon always said that when he’d clearly done something for fun and wanted it to sound academic. "It’s called Girlfriend Simulator."
Heeseung stared at him. "That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard."
Jungwon didn’t even blink. "Yeah, I know. But I need someone to test it, and you're the only person who’ll actually give me notes instead of lying to make me feel better."
Heeseung wanted to argue, but he was tired and they had a midterm coming up and honestly he didn't care enough to fight. So he sighed and pushed his chair closer. "Fine. Show me." Jungwon grinned like that was all he’d wanted since morning. He opened the build file, and the screen filled with placeholder art, branching choices, and a character slot labeled "y/n_default." And Heeseung, who was too distracted to think twice, just shrugged.
He had no idea that saying yes to that stupid looking game would end up being the most disastrous decision of his entire academic life.
He only agreed because Jungwon wouldn't shut up about it, and because even with all his complaints, he had this soft spot for him that made it hard to say no. Also, he didn’t have anything better to do on a friday night; the rest of their friends were out, and he wasn't in the mood to socialize. And, honestly, he liked games where he could pretend to be slightly less single than he actually was. It was pathetic, sure, but it wasn't like anyone needed to know.
So later that night, Heeseung sat on his bed with the lights off and his switch on max brightness, which was probably not great for his already questionable sleep schedule but whatever. Jungwon had sent him the build file with a message that just said "lmk if it crashes :)" which was not exactly confidence inspiring, but Heeseung had agreed to this so he couldn't really back out now.
The game booted with this weirdly soft 8 bit lullaby that sounded like it was trying to hypnotize him. The title screen was clean, minimalist, just the words "Girlfriend Simulator" in a font that looked expensive. Heeseung snorted. Jungwon had definitely spent more time on the typography than the actual game mechanics, which tracked. Character customization loaded next, and Heeseung had to admit it was smoother than he expected. The interface was intuitive, the options were detailed, and the hairstyle physics were suspiciously good for something Jungwon had supposedly coded in his free time between problem sets.
He made his character half heartedly. Messy hair because that's what he had in real life and he wasn't creative enough to imagine anything else. A hoodie because hoodies were safe. He picked "student" as his class, and when it came to stats, he maxed out "humor" because he genuinely thought he was funny, even if nobody else seemed to agree. Then he looked at "emotional intelligence" and left it at zero. Honesty was important, right?
The loading screen that followed was surprisingly elegant. Just a slow fade to black with some text that read "Your First Meeting" in delicate script. Heeseung settled back against his pillow, expecting the usual dating sim fare: a classroom, a coffee shop, maybe a cherry blossom tree if Jungwon was feeling cliché.
And then the screen flickered. Just once, quick enough that Heeseung thought maybe it was his eyes. But then it happened again and the lights in his bedroom pulsed in sync, like someone had wired his lamp to the game's framerate. "What the hell," Heeseung said to no one.
The switch started vibrating in his hands. Not the normal rumble feature, but something harder, more insistent, like the controller was trying to shake itself apart. On screen, a figure materialized. The girlfriend character. For a second Heeseung just stared because the sprite work was genuinely impressive. The lighting was too good, the shadows moved wrong. Everything felt almost real in a way that made his skin prickle.
And then the girlfriend, you, turned around. Slowly like you already knew he was watching. Your face came into view and Heeseung's brain did this weird stutter because you didn't look like a game character, you looked like a person, with the kind of detail you didn't get from placeholder art. Heeseung felt this uncomfortable twist in his stomach like he was the one being observed.
Then you spoke. Not with a text box, not with that awkward text to speech voice that indie games always used. Actual audio, clear and warm and way too close for his own good. "You're here!"
Heeseung's hands went cold. The voice didn't sound small or synthetic or compressed. It sounded like someone was standing directly behind him in his dark bedroom, breath on his neck, words in his ear. He whipped around so fast he nearly dropped the switch, but his room was empty. Just his desk and his dying succulent and his pile of laundry that he'd been meaning to deal with for a week. "What the—"
Before he could finish the thought, before he could even process what was happening, the lights in his room popped, like every bulb had blown at once. The screen went pure white, so bright it hurt to look at, and the controller in his hands went from cold to burning hot in the span of a heartbeat. He tried to drop it but his fingers wouldn't move, locked in place like the plastic had fused to his skin. The air pressure in the room shifted. His ears popped like he was in a plane taking off, and he felt this pull, this hook behind his ribs, yanking him forward with a force that didn't make any physical sense. He tried to pull back, tried to let go, tried to do anything, but the world was already dissolving.
The last thing Heeseung managed to think before everything shattered into pixels was that he was going to kill Yang Jungwon.
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that the world was too bright. The grass beneath him looked like high definition fairy dust, each blade catching light in a way that grass absolutely should not. The sky was blue in that aggressive unnatural way that only existed in concept art. Everything was sharp and vivid and wrong. Heeseung sat up slowly, head spinning, and looked down at himself. His clothes had changed. Instead of his worn out hoodie and sweatpants, he was wearing the outfit his avatar had been wearing. The same hoodie he'd picked in character customization but real now, solid and heavy on his shoulders. His hands looked like his hands but also didn't. The proportions were slightly off, the lines a little too clean.
"What the fuck," he said out loud, and his voice sounded normal, which was worse. Everything else was strange but his voice was still his.
"You made it!"
Heeseung's head snapped up. You were someone standing a few feet away, watching him with this expression that was hard to read. Amusement, maybe, or curiosity. Like you'd been waiting for him and was pleased he'd finally shown up. except you weren't a sprite anymore. You were real, or at least as real as anything else in this place. You looked exactly like the character on screen but with dimension now, depth, the subtle movements of someone actually breathing. Your hair moved slightly in a breeze he couldn't feel. You were wearing something casual but put together in that effortless way that Heeseung had never managed to pull off.
You smiled at him, and he felt something weird in his stomach. "Hi," you said, like this was completely normal, like he hadn't just been ripped through a screen into a video game that shouldn't exist. "Nice to meet you!"
Heeseung opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. His brain was doing this thing where it tried to process too many things at once and ended up processing nothing at all. "What," he finally managed, which wasn't even a complete sentence but it was all he had.
"Sorry I'm late," you said, but you didn't sound particularly sorry. "Jungwon said you might be running behind. He's the one who set this up, by the way. Said we'd get along."
Heeseung blinked. "Jungwon... set this up?"
"Yeah, the blind date?" You looked at him like he was being slow on purpose. "He said you needed to get out more. His words, not mine."
And that was such a Jungwon thing to do that Heeseung almost believed it. Almost. Except he was still processing the fact that the world around him looked like someone had turned reality into a video game filter. "This is insane," he muttered under his breath. "This is the most realistic game I've ever—"
"Game?" You interrupted, and your smile faltered just slightly. "I'm not playing games with you."
The way you said it made Heeseung freeze. It wasn't defensive or annoyed, it was sincere like you genuinely meant it, like you had no idea what he was talking about. And that's when it hit him: You could hear him. Not just the dialogue options he was supposed to pick. Everything. his actual thoughts spoken out loud. "Wait," he said slowly, "you heard that?"
"Heard what?"
"Nothing. Never mind." Heeseung cleared his throat and tried to pull himself together. He could freak out later. Right now there was a person in front of him — a very real feeling and cute person — and he was being weird. "So. Blind date. Right. Jungwon's idea."
He really looked at you then. You were pretty, in this approachable, comfortable way that made him think maybe he could actually talk to you without saying something catastrophically stupid. You had this ease about you, like you weren't trying too hard, and your eyes had this spark that suggested you were probably smarter than you let on. Basically, you were everything he'd ever put on one of those hypothetical "ideal type" list.
"So," you said, cutting through his thoughts. "Jungwon mentioned you're into games?"
Heeseung tried not to laugh at the irony. "Uh, yeah. You could say that."
"Me too." You brightened, and it was genuine, not that polite interest people usually faked. "I've been replaying persona 5 royal for like the third time. I know, I know, it's excessive."
"No, that's— that's actually really cool," Heeseung said, and he meant it. "Most people don't get the appeal of replaying stuff."
"Right?" You gestured as you talked, animated in a way that made him want to keep listening. "Everyone's like 'you already know the story' but that's not the point. It's about the experience, the details you missed, trying different builds—"
A notification sound chimed softly in the air between you. Heeseung jumped. You didn't react. In the corner of his vision, barely perceptible, text appeared: romantic interest +5. common interests discovered.
Oh. Oh no. This was a dating sim. An actual, literal dating sim. And he was living it.
"You okay?" You asked, tilting your head slightly.
"Yeah, totally fine," Heeseung lied. "Just thought I heard something."
You nodded, accepting this easily, and then said, "Do you want to walk? There's this spot by the lake that's really nice."
"Sure," Heeseung said, because what else was he going to say?
You started down a path that looked hand painted, every stone deliberately placed, every flower color coordinated. You reached the lake, which was absurdly picturesque, and sat down on a bench that looked like it had been placed there specifically for this moment. Probably because it had. Heeseung sat next to you, not too close but not weirdly far either, and tried to act like this was normal. "Oh," you said suddenly, looking up. "Look at that." Heeseung followed your gaze. There was a flower growing on a low hanging branch, except it wasn't growing so much as hovering there, pulsing slightly with a soft golden glow. It bobbed up and down in a loop, the universal sign of an interactive object. You didn't seem to notice anything weird about it. "That's pretty," you said. "I've never seen a flower like that before."
Heeseung stared at it. The glow intensified slightly, like it was trying to get his attention, like it was waiting for him to do something. Oh god. This is a prompt. He was supposed to pick the flower and give it to you, that's how this worked. That's how you earned affection points or route progression or whateverJungwon had programmed into this thing. So he stood up. "I'll get it for you."
"You don't have to—"
"No, I want to," Heeseung said, and he meant it, which was somehow worse. He reached up and plucked the flower from the branch. It came away easily, and the moment his fingers closed around the stem, the glow faded into something softer, more natural. It looked real now. I mean, it felt real. He turned back to you and held it out, suddenly aware of how much this looked like a scene from every romance movie he'd ever suffered through, not that he suffered through many. "Here," he said.
You took it, and your fingers brushed his for just a second. You looked down at the flower, then back up at him, and your smile was so genuinely happy that Heeseung forgot for a moment that this was supposed to be a game. "Thank you," you said. "That's really sweet."
The notifications stacked in his peripheral vision, and Heeseung felt something between triumph and existential dread. "It's just a flower," he said.
"Maybe," you said, twirling it between your fingers. "But it's the thought that counts, right?" And the worst part was that you seemed to actually believe that. You weren't reading from a script or following programmed responses. You felt real, real enough that Heeseung was starting to forget why that should scare him.
You tucked the flower behind your ear, adjusting it carefully, and Heeseung had to physically stop himself from saying something embarrassing about how that was probably the prettiest thing he'd seen all week. He sat back down on the bench, leaving what he hoped was an appropriate amount of space between you. "So," you said, tilting your head. "What do you do for fun? Besides picking flowers for girls in parks."
Heeseung felt his face get warm. "I don't— that's not a thing I do regularly."
"Shame. You're good at it." You were grinning now, clearly enjoying his embarrassment. "Come on, tell me. What's your thing?"
"Uh. Games, mostly. I play a lot of games, like Jungwon said."
Your eyes lit up immediately. "Oh yeah! What kind?"
"Mostly League. Some RPGs. Anything competitive, I guess." He expected the usual response, the polite nod and change of subject that he got whenever he mentioned gaming to people.
Instead, you leaned forward, genuinely interested. "Wait, you play League? What's your main?"
Heeseung blinked. "You play League?"
"Obviously. Answer the question."
"I mean, I play mid usually. Zed, Leblanc, that kind of thing." He was still processing the fact that you not only knew what League was but apparently played it. "What about you?"
"Support. I'm a Janna main and i'm not ashamed of it." You said it with this defiant pride that made Heeseung want to laugh. "I know, I know, support is boring or whatever, but someone has to keep the ADC alive and it might as well be me."
romantic interest +10. shared interests discovered: league of legends.
Heeseung felt something shift in his chest. He'd never met someone who got it like this. Who understood that games weren't just mindless button mashing but actual strategy and skill. "What rank are you?" He asked.
"Plat 2. I was almost diamond last season but then I had finals and kind of gave up on the grind." You made a face. "What about you?"
"Diamond 3." Heeseung said, oddly proud of himself but pretending he wasn't.
"Oh, so you're actually good." You looked impressed, which made Heeseung feel ridiculously more pleased with himself. "We should play together sometime."
"Yeah, definitely," Heeseung said, and then remembered that this was a game and there probably wasn't a 'sometime' outside of this moment. The thought made something in his stomach twist uncomfortably. You shifted on the bench, getting more comfortable, and somehow ended up closer to him. And just like that, you were off. Heeseung found himself talking more than he had in weeks, and you had opinions, strong ones, and you weren't afraid to argue with him when you disagreed. But it wasn't hostile or competitive, it was fun. At some point, you started talking about other games too. You mentioned playing Stardew Valley when you wanted something relaxing, getting unreasonably invested in Hollow Knight, rage quitting dark souls three times before finally beating it. "I'm not good at souls games," you admitted. "I panic dodge. I know you're supposed to learn the patterns but my brain just goes 'roll roll roll' and then I die."
Heeseung laughed. "That's valid. I did the same thing my first playthrough."
"Really? You seem like you'd be one of those people who does no hit runs for fun."
"Absolutely not. I died to the tutorial boss in Elden Ring."
You gasped, mockingly scandalized. "No you didn't."
"I really did. it Took me like fifteen tries." You were laughing now, the kind of laugh that made your whole face light up, and Heeseung felt ridiculously proud that he'd caused it. There was something about making you laugh that felt like winning.
romantic interest +8. humor appreciated.
You kept talking, jumping from topic to topic with the kind of ease that Heeseung had only ever experienced with Jungwon or Jake at best. Except this was different because you were looking at him like everything he said was interesting, like you actually wanted to hear his thoughts on whether the Death Note ending was satisfying or if Eren from Attack on Titan was justified. The sun was properly setting now, painting everything in warm colors. there were fireflies starting to appear, floating lazily through the air in a way that was definitely too perfect to be natural. Heeseung watched one drift past your face, and you reached out to let it land on your finger. "Pretty," you said softly, watching it glow.
Heeseung was looking at you, at the flower still tucked behind your ear and the way the sunset caught in your hair and the small smile on your face as you watched the firefly. "Yeah," he said. "Really pretty." You glanced at him and caught him staring. For a second, Heeseung thought he'd made it weird, but then you smiled, almost shy, and looked back at the firefly.
romantic interest +15. moment shared.
The firefly flew off, and you watched it go before turning back to him. "Hey, can I tell you something?" He nodded so you kept going. "I wasn't really sure about coming today. I almost canceled, actually." You pulled at a thread on your sleeve, not quite meeting his eyes. "I'm not great at the whole meeting new people thing. I always feel like I'm going to say something weird and scare them off."
"You're not weird," Heeseung said automatically.
"You literally just met me. I could be extremely weird."
"Okay, but like, good weird. The kind of weird that's actually interesting." Heeseung ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to explain it. "Most people just want to talk about surface level stuff, you know? But you actually have things you care about."
You looked at him for a long moment, and Heeseung couldn't read your expression. Then you smiled, soft and genuine. "You're really nice, you know that?"
"I'm really not," Heeseung said, but he was smiling too.
"Yes you are. You're nice and you're a good listener and you have good taste in games." You counted off on your fingers. "That's like, three whole good qualities. Most people don't even have one."
There was a moment of comfortable silence where you just sat there, watching the fireflies multiply in the growing dusk. Heeseung thought about how easy this felt, how he wasn't checking the time or looking for excuses to leave. How he kind of never wanted this to end.
You turned your head to look at him. "So do you want to do this again? Like, another time?"
Heeseung's heart did a weird jump in his chest. "Like another date?"
"Yeah. If you want. No pressure or anything." You said it casually, but Heeseung could see the hint of nervousness in the way you weren't quite meeting his eyes. "I just think it'd be fun to hang out more. Maybe we could actually play League together or something."
Every logical part of Heeseung's brain was screaming that this was a bad idea. That he should figure out how to exit this game and go back to real life and deal with the fact that he'd just spent hours in a virtual reality dating sim. But the less logical part, the part that was currently winning, wanted to see you again. Wanted to hear you laugh more. Wanted to keep talking about stupid stuff that mattered to him and apparently mattered to you too. "Yeah," he heard himself say. "Definitely, yeah, I'd really like that."
Your smile was so bright it could've competed with the fireflies. "Okay. It's a date then."
romantic interest +20. second date confirmed. route progression: 15% complete.
And then, without any warning at all, the world started to blur at the edges. The colors bled together, the sounds got muffled and distant, and Heeseung felt that same pulling sensation from before. Like someone had hooked a line to his chest and was reeling him back. "Wait— " he started to say, reaching out instinctively. You were looking at him with concern, mouth moving, but he couldn't hear what you were saying anymore. Everything was dissolving into static and white light and that horrible feeling of falling. The last thing he saw before everything went black was your face, still worried, still perfect, with that flower tucked behind your ear. Then he was gasping awake in his dark bedroom, switch controller still hot in his hands, his heart racing. The screen showed a save menu: progress saved. continue tomorrow?
His hands were shaking. "What the hell," Heeseung said to his empty room.
And he barely slept that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the park, the fireflies, your smile. he kept reaching for memories that felt too solid to be from a game. By the time his alarm went off, he'd already been awake for an hour, staring at his ceiling and trying to convince himself that he hadn't just experienced the most elaborate hallucination of his life.
He found Jungwon in their usual spot in the computer lab, hunched over his laptop with his headphones on, nodding along to whatever he was listening to. There were three empty energy drink cans next to him, which meant he'd probably been there since before sunrise. Heeseung dropped his bag on the desk with more force than necessary. Jungwon jumped, pulling his headphones down. "Jesus, dude. Learn to announce yourself like a normal person."
"We need to talk about your game," Heeseung said.
Jungwon's face lit up. "Oh my god, you played it! what'd you think? Was she cute? Did you get to the part with the—"
"Jungwon." Heeseung sat down, leaning forward. "What the hell did you put in that thing?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean it was way too real." Heeseung ran his hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to explain something that sounded insane even in his own head. "It felt like I was actually inside the game."
Jungwon frowned. "Wait, you used a VR headset or something?"
"No, I just played it normally! On my switch, in my room." Heeseung could hear how crazy he sounded but he kept going anyway. "But it wasn't like regular gameplay. It was like the game pulled me in. I could smell things, Jungwon."
Jungwon stared at him for a long moment, then slowly took a sip of his energy drink. "Bro. You got that invested in it?"
"I'm not— that's not what I'm saying."
"You literally just described sensory immersion that doesn't exist yet." Jungwon was grinning now. "Holy shit, you're actually down bad. You played a dating sim for like two hours and now you're having full vivid memories about it."
"It wasn't like that," Heeseung insisted, but even he could hear how weak it sounded.
"Dude, you need to get an actual girlfriend. Like, a real one. Made of flesh and blood and everything." Jungwon was trying not to laugh and failing. "Look, I'm glad you liked it. Genuinely. But maybe we should set you up with someone real before you completely lose touch with reality." Heeseung slumped back in his chair. Maybe Jungwon was right. Maybe he had just gotten way too into it. Maybe his brain had filled in details that weren't actually there because he was that desperate for connection. "I'm not judging! Okay, maybe I'm judging a little bit, but I'm also proud. My game is so good it's causing psychological breaks from reality." Jungwon looked genuinely pleased with himself. "Okay, but if you're playing tonight, there's something you should know."
"What?"
"The second date has a mini game. Like, a fight sequence."
Heeseung blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
"A fighting mini game."
"Why the fuck does a dating simulator have a fighting mini game?"
Jungwon shrugged. "I thought it'd be fun. Adds variety and keeps things interesting."
"That makes absolutely no sense. What am I supposed to be fighting?"
"You'll see," Jungwon said, and his smile was deeply suspicious.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer you're getting. I'm not spoiling my own game." Jungwon turned back to his laptop. "Just make sure you've been keeping up with your stats. You're gonna need decent strength and agility."
"I maxed out humor and left emotional intelligence at zero."
Jungwon turned around slowly. "You what."
"What! I was being honest about my abilities!"
"Heeseung. My guy. My dude." Jungwon looked pained. "You're supposed to actually try to build a good character."
"My character is fine."
"Your character is going to get his ass kicked." Jungwon pulled up something on his laptop, clicked around for a second, then shook his head. "Okay, you know what? It's fine. You'll figure it out. The game has adaptive difficulty anyway."
Heeseung really looked at Jungwon. "Adaptive difficulty in a dating sim."
"In the fighting portion, yeah. The dating part is all you, buddy. That's pure skill based."
Heeseung wanted to argue that there was something deeply wrong with Jungwon's game design philosophy, but he also kind of wanted to know what the hell happened on the second date that required combat stats. "Is she going to be there?" He asked. "During the fight thing?"
"Obviously. It's her date." Jungwon was smirking now. "Why, you worried about impressing her?"
"No."
"You're totally worried about impressing her. A girl who doesn't exist."
Heeseung threw a pen at him. Jungwon dodged it without even looking up from his screen. And the rest of the day dragged. Heeseung went to his classes and took notes and nodded at the appropriate times, but his brain was somewhere else entirely. He kept thinking about the park. About the way you'd looked at him when he gave you the flower. About how easy it had been to talk to you. He knew it was just a game. He knew you were just code, just a really well designed character or whatever that Jungwon had somehow made feel real. But knowing that didn't stop him from wanting to see you again.
By the time he got back to his dorm that night, he'd already decided he was playing regardless of how pathetic it made him look. He grabbed his switch, plugged in his headphones even though he hadn't used them last time, and loaded up the save file. The screen flickered once. Twice. Here we go again, Heeseung thought. And then the world tilted, and he was falling forward into light. When the world stopped spinning and Heeseung's vision cleared, he wasn't in a park this time. He was sitting in a desk chair, his own desk chair. In what looked exactly like his dorm room, except cleaner, way cleaner. His laundry wasn't on the floor and his desk wasn't covered in empty energy drink cans. His monitor was on, displaying his league of legends home screen, and his keyboard had that soft RGB glow that looked way more expensive than his actual setup.
"Okay," Heeseung said to the empty room. "This is new." His phone — or the game's version of his phone — buzzed on the desk. He picked it up and saw a discord notification.
you: you're online! finally
you: i've been waiting like ten minutes
you: i was starting to think you ghosted me
Heeseung's heart did that stupid jump thing again. He typed back quickly.
heeseung: sorry, just got on
heeseung: ready when you are
His discord pinged with an incoming call. He stared at it for a second, then clicked accept. "There you are," your voice came through his headphones, clear and warm and doing absolutely nothing good for his heart rate. "I thought you bailed on me."
"I wouldn't do that," Heeseung said, and he meant it, which was concerning considering you were a video game character.
"Good. Because I already said we were playing together and if you didn't show up i would've looked stupid." Heeseung could hear the smile in your voice. on his second monitor — since when did he have a second monitor? — a small window popped up showing your avatar. It was cute, some anime style drawing with the same flower from yesterday tucked behind the character's ear. "Okay, so I set up a custom game. Two versus two," you said.
"Sounds good. Who are we playing against?"
There was a pause. "Okay, so don't freak out, but it's my exes."
Heeseung's hand froze on his mouse. "I'm sorry, what?"
"My ex boyfriends. Both of them. They wanted a rematch from last time." You said it so casually, like this was a completely normal thing. "They're kind of toxic about League. They got really mad when I beat them."
"You want me to play League against your ex boyfriends?"
"Technically we're playing against them together as a team. Bonding activity!" You sounded way too cheerful about this. "Come on, It'll be fun. Plus i really want to beat them again. They've been talking shit in the group chat all week."
quest unlocked: defend your girlfriend's honor (in league of legends) | objective: win the 2v2 match | optional objective: make her exes regret queueing up
The notification appeared in the corner of his vision and Heeseung had to resist the urge to laugh. This was insane. This entire situation was insane. But he went for it anyway. "Okay," he said. "Let's do it." the invite popped up and Heeseung accepted. The lobby loaded and he could see the other two players: "toxicking" and "yourworstnightmare" which were possibly the most obnoxious usernames he'd ever seen. "Those are real people you dated?" Heeseung asked.
"Unfortunately. My taste in men used to be really bad." You paused. "It's gotten better though." Heeseung tried not to smile and failed completely.
The chat lobby loaded and immediately one of them started typing.
toxicking: oh look who showed up
toxicking: brought a new victim i see
yourworstnightmare: this gonna be quick lol
"They're always like this," you said, sounding tired. "Just mute them if they get annoying."
"I'm fine," Heeseung said. "I've dealt with worse in solo queue."
"Ooh, confident. I like it."
romantic interest +5. confidence appreciated.
You locked in Janna, just like you'd said yesterday. Heeseung hovered over Zed for a second, then switched to Leblanc. If this was going to be a two versus two, he wanted mobility and burst damage. The game loaded, Heeseung cracked his knuckles and adjusted his grip on his mouse. "Okay, game plan," you said. "I keep you alive, you delete them. Simple." The match started and immediately the other team was in all chat. Heeseung checked their champions. Yasuo and Yone. Of course they were playing the flashy high skill ceiling champions. He would've bet money they had mastery 7 emotes ready to spam. "They always play like this," you said. "Super aggressive, trying to outplay everything. It's kind of predictable once you get used to it." The minions spawned and both teams moved forward. Heeseung played it safe at first, watching how the exes moved, learning their patterns. And then suddenly, first blood!
"THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT," you shouted, and Heeseung couldn't help but grin.
toxicking: wtf
toxicking: that was lag
yourworstnightmare: ur getting carried
yourworstnightmare: ur duo is doing everything
"He's salty," you said, laughing. "This is great." The match continued and it became increasingly clear that Heeseung and you had better coordination. You'd shield him right before he went in. You moved together like you'd been playing as a duo for months. "Behind you," you called out, and Heeseung instantly dodged. It wasn't even close. By fifteen minutes, the score was 15 to 3, and Heeseung had more kills than both of the exes combined.
toxicking: this is bullshit
toxicking: whoever this guy is he's probably smurfing
yourworstnightmare: yeah no way he's actually this rank
toxicking: fucking carried loser
"They're so mad," you said, and you sounded absolutely delighted. "Oh my god, they're so mad. This is the best day of my life."
Heeseung was grinning so hard his face hurt. "Should we end it?"
"Absolutely, yeah. Let's make it hurt." You pushed mid together. Heeseung went in first, deleting the Yasuo instantly. You polymorphed the Yone, and Heeseung finished him off before the polymorph even ended. The nexus exploded.
victory! +50 romantic interest. victory achieved. quest completed. achievement unlocked: better than her exes (at league of legends)
Heeseung leaned back in his chair, feeling more satisfied than he had any right to feel about a video game within a video game. "That felt good."
"Right? God, I've been wanting to do that for weeks." You sighed happily. "You're really good, by the way. You weren't kidding about being diamond."
"I don't really joke about my rank."
"Noted. Confidence is earned." There was a pause. "Hey, want to play another one? Just us this time?"
Heeseung absolutely should not spend more time in this game. He should log off and go to sleep and maybe talk to a therapist about why he was emotionally investing in a dating simulator. "Yeah," he said instead. "Let's play another."
You made a happy sound that did dangerous things to his chest. "Okay! I'll make the lobby.” Your laugh was bright and genuine and perfect. "I knew you were my type."
You played two more games and won both of them. When you finally left the lobby, Heeseung realized he'd been playing for almost two hours. His hands were sore from gripping the mouse and his face hurt from smiling. "Hey," you said, your voice softer now. "Thanks for playing with me. And for, you know, obliterating my exes. That was really fun."
"Anytime," Heeseung said, and meant it. "This was really fun. I don't usually have this much fun playing league."
"Me neither," you admitted. "Usually it's just people being toxic or trying too hard. But this was nice. You're nice." There was a comfortable silence, just the sound of both of you breathing through the discord call. Heeseung looked at his monitor, at the League client, at the clean version of his room that didn't exist in real life. "So," you said eventually. "Same time next week?"
Heeseung's chest tightened. "Yeah. Definitely."
"Cool. It's a date." You paused. "Well, another date. Our third date. Okay. Well. I should probably get going. Okay. Goodnight, Heeseung."
"Goodnight." The discord call ended and Heeseung sat there in the quiet of his too clean room, staring at his monitor. The screen started to blur at the edges, colors bleeding together again. Here we go again, he thought, again.
progress saved. route progression: 30% complete.
And this whole thing it became a routine faster than Heeseung wanted to admit. He'd go to class, take notes he barely remembered, nod at Jungwon when they crossed paths in the lab, and then he'd go straight back to his dorm. Dinner was whatever he could eat with one hand because he was already booting up the switch with the other. Jake, his roommate, asked him once if he was okay, and Heeseung said he was fine, just really into this new game. Which was technically true, even if it didn't come close to explaining what was actually happening.
The third date was at an arcade. Not a real arcade, obviously, but the game's version of one. You showed up wearing this oversized hoodie and jeans and you looked so genuinely excited to be there that Heeseung forgot for a solid minute that none of this was real. The mission was simple: win you a prize from the claw machine. Except the claw machine was rigged in that way that all claw machines are rigged, and it took Heeseung fifteen tries before he finally got the stuffed cat you'd been eyeing. When he handed it to you, you hugged it to your chest and smiled at him like he'd just won you something actually valuable, and the notification that popped up said his charm stat had increased by ten points. He was starting to understand how the game worked now; every interaction mattered and every choice added up.
On the fourth date, you took him to a bookstore, and the mission was to pick out a book for each other. You spent almost an hour wandering through the aisles, pulling out books and reading the backs and showing him things you thought he'd like. You picked him this SciFi novel about time loops and said it reminded you of him because he seemed like someone who'd want to figure out how to break the system. He didn't know how to tell you that he was currently living in something that felt suspiciously like a time loop, so he just took the book and thanked you. He picked you a fantasy novel with a really detailed magic system. When you read the description your whole face lit up and you immediately added it to your reading list. His intelligence stat increased and so did the romantic interest meter, which was now sitting at somewhere close to seventy percent.
Date five was a cooking challenge in your apartment, which Heeseung didn't even know you had until he loaded into the game and found himself standing in a kitchen that looked like it came out of an interior design magazine. You were already there, tying your hair back, explaining that you'd challenged him to see who could make the better pasta. Heeseung had never cooked pasta in his life that didn't come from a box with instructions, but he wasn't about to admit that. The mission objective said to impress you with his cooking skills, which seemed optimistic given his actual skill level, but he tried anyway. He burned the garlic immediately. You laughed at him but not in a mean way, more like you thought it was endearing that he was trying. You ended up helping him, standing close enough that he could smell your perfume, guiding his hands when he didn't know how much salt to add. Your pasta turned out better than his but you ate his anyway and said it wasn't that bad, and his cooking stat went from zero to fifteen which felt generous but he wasn't complaining.
By date seven Heeseung's character stats had changed completely. His confidence was maxed out now, sitting at ninety five out of a hundred. his charm was at eighty. Even his emotional intelligence had somehow climbed to sixty despite him never actively trying to level it up. The game was keeping track of everything, he realized. Every time he listened to you talk about something you cared about, every time he remembered a small detail you'd mentioned, every time he made you laugh, the numbers went up. He was being rewarded for paying attention, for caring.
Date seven was a hiking trail that wound up a mountain to a viewpoint. The mission was just to reach the top together, which sounded simple except the trail was longer than expected. Heeseung offered to take a break but you said you wanted to keep going, you wanted to see the view. So you kept climbing and Heeseung found himself naturally slowing his pace to match yours, offering his hand on the steeper parts, pointing out interesting rocks or plants just to give you reasons to stop and catch his breath, because the game kept showing pop ups of him showing that his hydration meter was almost on 10%. When you finally reached the top the sun was setting and the view was objectively incredible, the kind of thing that didn't exist in real life because real life didn't have rendering engines that could make every cloud perfect. You sat down on the bench at the summit and Heeseung sat next to you and you leaned your head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"This is nice," you said quietly. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too," Heeseung said, and he meant it so completely it scared him.
"You know, when we first met, I wasn't sure if this would work out. I didn't like the idea of a blind date." You were looking out at the view, not at him. "But I think I was wrong. I think we make sense together."
The romantic interest meter hit ninety percent and a new notification appeared: relationship milestone approaching. prepare for confession sequence. Heeseung's stomach dropped. Confession sequence. That meant the game was building toward something, toward an ending. toward him having to either commit or walk away. He'd known this was coming, obviously, this was a dating sim, the whole point was to get to the confession. But now that it was actually happening he wasn't ready. He didn't want this to end. He wanted to keep going on dates and learning things about you and making you laugh and existing in this space where things made sense.
"Hey," you said, turning to look at him. "You okay? You got quiet."
"Yeah, I'm fine," Heeseung lied. "Just thinking."
"About what?"
About how you're not real, he didn't say. About how I'm going to have to leave eventually and you'll just be code again. About how I'm way too invested in something that was only supposed to be a game. "About how nice this is," he said instead.
You smiled and took his hand, lacing your fingers through his. "Yeah. It really is." You sat there until the sun finished setting and the stars came out, which happened too fast because game time didn't move like real time. When the world started to blur at the edges and Heeseung felt that familiar pulling sensation, you squeezed his hand once before letting go. "See you next time," you said, and your voice was already fading.
Heeseung woke up at his desk again, neck sore, hands cramped around the controller. His phone showed it was three in the morning. He had class in five hours. He should sleep. He should eat something. He should probably shower because he wasn't sure he'd done that today. Instead he looked at the switch screen. progress saved. route progression: 90% complete. next date: confession sequence available.
The next day, Heeseung found Jungwon in the same spot as always, corner desk in the computer lab with three monitors running different programs simultaneously. Heeseung dropped into the chair next to him hard enough that Jungwon jumped. "What happens after the confession?" Heeseung asked without preamble.
Jungwon blinked at him. "What?"
"In your game. What happens after the confession scene. I need to know."
"Oh, you're at that part already?" Jungwon's eyebrows went up. "Uh, I don't know if i should tell you though. Spoilers and all that."
"Jungwon."
"I'm serious! The whole point of a game is discovering it yourself. If I tell you what happens it ruins the experience." Jungwon was grinning now, clearly enjoying this. "You're supposed to go in blind and make your choices based on what feels right in the moment."
Heeseung resisted the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. "I just want to know what to expect. Is there a good ending? A bad ending? Multiple endings?"
"There are multiple endings, yeah. Depends on your choices throughout the game and your final stats." Jungwon tilted his head, studying him. "Why are you so stressed about this? It's just a game. If you get a bad ending you can just reload and try again."
"I don't want to reload," Heeseung said, and he could hear how intense he sounded but couldn't seem to stop. "I want to get it right the first time."
Jungwon stared at him for a long moment, then slowly set down his drink. "Okay, you need to be honest with me right now. How much have you been playing this game?"
"I don't know. A few hours a day."
"Heeseung."
"Okay, maybe more than a few hours."
"How many hours are we talking? Ballpark estimate."
Heeseung did the mental math and immediately regretted it. "I don't think that's relevant."
"Oh my god, you're obsessed." Jungwon leaned back in his chair, looking somewhere between amused and concerned. "Dude, it's a dating sim. A fictional dating sim. With a fictional girl who doesn't exist. You know that, right? You know she's not real?"
"Obviously I know that," Heeseung said defensively, even though there were moments when he forgot, when you felt so real that it didn't matter what you were made of.
"Do you though? Because you look like you haven't slept in three days." Jungwon was trying to be lighthearted about it but there was genuine worry underneath. "I made the game to be immersive but this is kind of next level." Jungwon paused. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask. Do you have the save file on your switch?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Can I see it? I want to check something." Jungwon was already pulling out a cable from his bag. "I've been trying to track some of the game metrics and I want to see how your playthrough data looks. Might help me optimize things for the final build." Heeseung hesitated for a second, then pulled out his switch and handed it over. Jungwon connected it to his laptop and started pulling up files, his eyes scanning lines of code that moved too fast for Heeseung to follow. "Okay so your save file shows you're at ninety percent completion, which tracks," Jungwon muttered, clicking through folders. "Romance points are maxed, most of your stats are really high except wisdom which is still somehow at like twenty, but that's on you for ignoring all the library study sessions —" He stopped mid-sentence. "Wait."
"What?"
"Hang on." Jungwon leaned closer to his screen, scrolling through something. his expression shifted from curious to confused to something that looked almost worried. "This doesn't make sense."
"What doesn't make sense?"
"These files. There are scripts here that I didn't write." Jungwon opened another window, comparing code side by side. "Like, entire dialogue trees that don't exist in my original build. And these asset files, I definitely didn't create these. The arcade date was supposed to be at a generic arcade but your file shows custom assets for specific machines."
Heeseung felt something cold settle in his stomach. "Maybe you forgot you added them?"
"I don't forget code I write, Heeseung. That's not how this works." Jungwon was scrolling faster now, opening more files. "And look at this, the dating locations are generating based on your preferences. I programmed like five set locations but your save file has seven different ones and they're all places that align with interests you've demonstrated in gameplay." He clicked on something else. "Oh this is weird. Really weird."
"What?"
"The dialogue system. I built it to pull from a database of pre written responses with some randomization for variety, but this–-" Jungwon gestured at the screen. "This is learning. It's analyzing your responses and generating new dialogue options that don't exist in my database. It's writing its own conversations."
"Is that bad?"
"It's not bad, it's impossible. I didn't program that. I don't even know how to program that." Jungwon looked up at him, and for the first time since Heeseung had known him, he looked genuinely unsettled. "Your game is developing its own code."
They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the hum of the computer lab's ventilation system and the clicking of someone's mechanical keyboard a few desks over. "Is that dangerous?" Heseung asked.
"I don't know. Probably not? I mean, it's still just a game. It's not like it can affect anything outside of itself." Jungwon didn't sound entirely convinced though. "But it's definitely something I need to look into. This could be a massive bug or it could be the framework doing something really innovative that I didn't anticipate."
"But the game still works, right? Like, I can still finish it?"
Jungwon gave him a look. "You're really determined to finish this thing, aren't you?"
"I'm ninety percent through. I'm not stopping now."
"Even knowing that the game is apparently developing sentience or whatever?"
"It's not sentient, it's just adaptive," Heeseung said, trying to sound convincing.
Jungwon sighed and unplugged the switch, handing it back to him. "Okay, fine. But I'm keeping a copy of your save data so I can analyze this more. And maybe after you're done we can talk about what's actually happening here because this is either a huge breakthrough in game design or a really concerning glitch and I genuinely can't tell which." Heeseung nodded, pocketing the switch. "And Heeseung?" Jungwon's expression was serious now. "Be careful with the confession sequence. I know you want to get it right but just remember that at the end of the day it's still a program. It's responding to inputs and generating outputs. It's not actually feeling anything."
Heeseung nodded, but he was thinking about the way you'd looked at him during the sunset on the hiking date or about how your smile seemed genuinely happy when he won you the stuffed cat. "Right," he said. "Yeah, I know that." Jungwon didn't look convinced, and honestly, Heeseung wasn't either.
By the time he got back to his dorm that evening, he'd made a decision. He was going to finish the game. He was going to do the confession sequence. And he was going to be honest, say what he actually felt, because even if you were just code, the feelings were real, his feelings were real. That had to count for something. So he sat down at his desk, picked up his switch, and loaded the save file. the screen showed the usual menu: Continue, Load, Settings. He selected continue and the familiar loading screen appeared with its soft music and the progress bar that now read ninety percent. The world loaded and Heeseung found himself standing in front of a location marker that hadn't been there before. It was highlighted in gold and pulsing softly, and when he walked up to it, a notification appeared.
final date available: confession sequence. proceed?
Heeseung took a breath, his actual physical breath in his actual room, and then pressed yes. The world reformed around him and he was standing outside an apartment building he recognized as yours. The sun was setting, painting everything in warm golden light. His outfit had changed without him doing anything; he was wearing a button up shirt now, dark jeans, shoes that were nicer than anything he owned in real life. His hair felt different too, like someone had styled it properly instead of his usual routine of running his fingers through it and hoping for the best. And then a notification appeared:
quest: the perfect date. objective: confess your feelings. bonus objective: make it memorable.
current stats — confidence: 95. charm: 80. emotional intelligence: 60. romantic interest: 90%.
Heeseung looked at the apartment door and a dialogue option popped up floating in his vision.
> knock on the door > text her that you're here > wait for her to come down
He selected the first option because knocking felt more personal, more intentional. He walked up to the door and knocked three times, and there was this weird moment where he could feel his heart actually racing even though he was pretty sure his real body was just sitting in a chair holding a controller. The door opened and you were there, and Heeseung forgot how to think for a second. You were wearing a dress, which he'd never seen you in before. It wasn't overly fancy, just simple and nice and it suited you in a way that made his chest tight. Your hair was down and you'd clearly put in effort and you looked nervous in a way that made him want to tell you that you had nothing to be nervous about. "Hi," you said, and you were smiling but there was something uncertain in it.
dialogue options: > you look really pretty > ready to go? > sorry, am i early?
Heeseung picked the first one without hesitating. "You look really pretty," he said, and his voice came out steadier than he expected.
Your smile got more genuine, less nervous. "Yeah? I wasn't sure if this was too much. You didn't tell me where we were going."
"It's perfect," Heeseung said, even though he also didn't know where you were going.
romance +5. successful compliment.
You grabbed your bag and locked the door behind you, and when you turned back to him there was this moment where Heeseung almost offered his hand but wasn't sure if that was too much. The game solved the problem for him by providing another choice.
action options: > offer your arm > walk beside her casually > hold her hand
He selected the first one, old fashioned but confident, and held out his arm. You looked at it for a second and then smiled and took it, linking your arm through his, and suddenly you were walking together down the street like this was something you did all the time. "So where are we going?" You asked, looking up at him.
"This place I found," Heeseung said, even though he hadn't found anything because this was a game and the location was predetermined. "I thought you'd like it."
The restaurant, when you got there, was the kind of place Heeseung had only seen in movies. Small and intimate with soft lighting and candles on every table and windows that looked out over the city. There was a host at the front who smiled at them like he'd been expecting them, and he led them to a table by the window without Heeseung having to say anything. You sat down across from him and looked around, eyes wide. "Heeseung, this place is really nice. You didn't have to do all this."
dialogue options: > i wanted to > you deserve it > it's not that fancy
He picked the second one. "you deserve it," he said, and you looked at him with this expression he couldn't quite read but that made something warm settle in his chest. The waiter came by with menus and Heeseung noticed that all the food options had little stat indicators next to them. Ordering the pasta would give a +5 to sophistication. The steak was +8 to confidence. The wine selection had various charisma bonuses. It was surreal, sitting in what looked like a real restaurant while video game mechanics floated at the edge of his vision. "What are you thinking about?" You asked, and Heeseung realized he'd been quiet for too long.
dialogue options: > just trying to decide what to order > thinking about how nice this is > thinking about you
The third option felt too direct, too soon, so he went with the second. "Just thinking about how nice this is," he said. "Being here with you."
You smiled and looked down at your menu, and Heeseung could see the faint blush on your cheeks. "Yeah. It is nice." You both ordered food and fell into easy conversation. You told him about something funny that happened in your class and he told you about nearly falling asleep during a lecture that morning. The food came and it was actually good, or at least the game's version of good, and Heeseung found himself relaxing into the moment.
Halfway through dinner, you reached across the table and stole a bite of his food without asking. It was casual and comfortable and exactly the kind of thing you'd done on previous dates, but this time when you pulled back, Heeseung caught your hand before you could fully retreat.
action options: > hold her hand > let go after a moment > bring her hand to your lips (high risk)
His confidence stat was at ninety five. He picked the first option and just held your hand there on the table, his fingers laced through yours, and you looked surprised for a second before your expression softened into something that looked almost relieved. "Is this okay?" Heeseung asked quietly.
"Yeah," you said, and your voice was just as quiet. "This is okay."
You finished dinner like that, hands linked across the table, and Heeseung had never felt more present in a moment that he knew wasn't technically real. When the waiter brought the check, Heeseung paid without looking at it, because, well, that wasn't his real money. And you didn't protest, just squeezed his hand once and smiled. Outside the restaurant, the city had transformed into its night version. String lights hung between buildings and the streetlamps cast everything in a warm glow. There was soft music coming from somewhere, ambient and atmospheric. "Do you want to walk for a bit?" You asked. "I'm not really ready to go home yet."
dialogue options: > absolutely > whatever you want > i was hoping you'd say that
Heeseung picked the last one. "I was hoping you'd say that," he said, and you laughed and pulled him down the street, still holding his hand.
You walked through the city without any real destination, just moving together, and Heeseung was hyperaware of every point of contact between you. Your hand in his, the occasional brush of your shoulder against his arm, the way you'd lean into him slightly when you laughed at something he said. Eventually you led him to a park that Heeseung didn't remember seeing before. It was mostly empty at this time of night, just a few NPCs scattered around looking decorative. There was a fountain in the center and benches arranged around it, and you pulled him toward one of the benches and sat down, tugging him down next to you. You didn't let go of his hand. "Can I tell you something?" You asked, looking at the fountain instead of at him.
"Of course," Heeseung said.
You took a breath. "I really like spending time with you. Like, really like it. You make me feel like I can just be myself and that's enough, you know? I don't have to try to be cooler or funnier or different. I can just exist and you seem to like that."
Heeseung's throat felt tight. "I do like that," he managed. "I like you exactly how you are."
critical moment approaching. romance threshold: 95%.
You finally turned to look at him, and your expression was nervous and hopeful and vulnerable in a way that made Heeseung forget that you were supposed to be code. "The thing is," you continued, "I don't usually do this. I don't usually let people get close like this. But with you it felt easy from the start and now I'm just —" you stopped, searching for words. "I'm really happy you're here."
confession sequence initiated. select response: > i'm happy too > i feel the same way > i need to tell you something
Heeseung knew this was it. This was the moment the whole game had been building toward. All those dates, All those conversations, all those stat increases and romance points, everything had led to this choice. He could play it safe with the first two options or he could go all in with the third one. His confidence was maxed out. He'd earned this moment. So he picked the third option.
"I need to tell you something," Heeseung said, and his voice was steadier than he expected. "I didn't really know what to expect when we first met. I thought maybe it'd be awkward or forced or like every other time I've tried to get to know someone. But it wasn't like that at all." You were watching him carefully, not interrupting, and Heeseung kept going. "You're the first person in a really long time who makes me want to actually try, you know? Like, I want to be someone worth your time. I want to hear about your day and your opinions on League of Legends and game mechanics or how you wanted to live on a farm one day. I want to keep doing this, all of it, for as long as you'll let me." Romance stats were at 98% now. "What I'm trying to say is —" Heeseung paused, and the game provided one final choice, the last decision that would determine everything.
final confession: > i really like you > i think i'm falling for you > i'm in love with you
Heeseung looked at you, at the way you were watching him with your full attention, at the hope in your expression, at how real you felt in this moment. He picked the middle option, the one that was honest without being overwhelming. "I think I'm falling for you," he said quietly. "Actually, I don't think. I know. I'm falling for you and I don't really know how to stop and I don't think I want to."
The world seemed to hold its breath. Even the ambient sounds of the park faded into nothing. You were staring at him with wide eyes and Heeseung's heart was racing and for one terrible second he thought he'd picked wrong, said too much, ruined everything.
Then you smiled, the kind of smile that started small and grew until it took over your whole face, and you said, "oh thank god."
"What?"
"I've been trying to figure out how to tell you the same thing for like days now." You were laughing, almost giddy with relief. "I kept overthinking it and planning the perfect moment and the perfect words and then you just — you just said it and it was perfect anyway."
"So," Heeseung said, because he needed to be absolutely sure. "Does that mean —" You didn't let him finish. You just leaned in and kissed him.
For a second, Heeseung's brain completely short circuited. This wasn't supposed to happen yet. He'd expected more dialogue options, maybe a choice prompt, some kind of warning that this moment was coming. But there was nothing, just the sudden warmth of your lips against his and the way his entire nervous system seemed to light up all at once. It wasn't dramatic or earth shattering or any of the things movies made kissing out to be. It was soft and brief and a little tentative, like you weren't entirely sure if you were doing it right. Your lips were warm and you tasted faintly like the wine from dinner and Heeseung could feel your hand trembling slightly where it was still holding his. He barely had time to process any of it, to kiss you back properly, before you pulled away, looking nervous again.
"Was that okay?" You asked, and your voice was quieter than before, uncertain. "I should have asked first probably but you were taking too long to —"
Heeseung cut you off by kissing you again, properly this time. He brought one hand up to cup your face and he could feel how warm your skin was under his palm, could feel the slight texture of it like actual skin and not polygons. His other hand stayed linked with yours and he squeezed gently, anchoring himself to you, to this moment that felt too real to be made of code. This kiss was different from the first one. Longer, more certain, like now that he knew what he was doing he could actually do it right. You made this small sound against his mouth, something between a sigh and a hum, and Heeseung felt it all the way down to his toes. He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss and you responded immediately, your free hand coming up to rest against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
This has too much detail, Heeseung thought distantly. Games didn't work like this. He shouldn't be able to feel the way your breath hitched when he kissed the corner of your mouth. Shouldn't be able to notice how you leaned into him, closing whatever small distance had been between you. Shouldn't be able to smell your perfume or feel the way your hair brushed against his hand when you tilted your head.
romance: 100%. relationship established | achievement unlocked: first kiss | achievement unlocked: good ending route - mutual confession.
You pulled back just enough to breathe, and Heeseung followed without thinking, not ready to stop yet. You laughed softly against his mouth, the sound vibrating between you, and kissed him again. This time it was you who took control, you who pressed closer, and Heeseung let you, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. He could feel your heartbeat and that's what finally made his brain catch up to what was happening. His thumb was resting against your pulse point and he could feel it racing, quick and real and impossible. Games didn't simulate heartbeats. Games didn't need that level of detail. But he could feel it anyway, the proof that maybe you were here, that this was happening, even if it shouldn't be possible.
"Okay," you said quietly, and you were smiling. He could hear it in your voice even before he saw it.
Heeseung laughed, the sound coming out rougher than he intended. "That was better than okay."
You opened your eyes and looked at him, and Heeseung's breath caught because the detail was impossible. He could see the exact color of your eyes, could see the way they reflected the light from the streetlamps, could see the slight dilation of your pupils. This wasn't game graphics. This was too real. This was beyond anything Jungwon could have programmed. "You're staring," you said, but you didn't sound upset about it. If anything you sounded pleased, a little shy.
"Sorry," Heeseung said, but he didn't look away. "I'm just — you're really pretty."
You bit your lip, trying not to smile too wide, and Heeseung watched the movement with more attention than was probably appropriate. He wanted to kiss you again. He wanted to stay in this moment forever. He wanted to understand how any of this was possible. "Can I ask you something?" Heeseung said, his voice barely above a whisper because speaking any louder felt like it would shatter whatever spell they were under.
"Anything," you said, and your hand was still pressed against his chest and Heeseung wondered if you could feel his heartbeat too, if the game had coded that detail as well.
"Does this feel real to you?"
You tilted your head slightly, considering the question. "What do you mean?"
"This. Us. Right now." Heeseung knew he wasn't making sense but he needed to know, needed to understand if you felt it too, this strange impossible realness of everything. "Does it feel real?"
You were quiet for a moment, your expression thoughtful, and then you squeezed his hand. "It's the most real thing I've ever felt," you said simply. "Why? Does it not feel real to you?"
"No, it does. That's the problem." Heeseung couldn't explain what he meant without revealing that you were in a game, that this was all supposed to be simulation, that none of this should feel the way it did. "It feels too real."
"I don't think something can feel too real," you said, and you leaned in and pecked his lips, soft and quick. "Either it's real or it's not. And this is real." Heeseung wanted to argue, wanted to explain all the reasons why this couldn't be real, why you couldn't be real. Maybe it didn't matter. maybe real was just whatever felt like this. "Kiss me again," you said against his mouth, and it wasn't really a question. So Heeseung did. He kissed you until he forgot where he ended and you began, until the only thing that existed was this: You and him and this impossible moment that felt more real than anything in his actual life ever had.
Eventually though, the world started to glitch again. The colors began bleeding together and the sounds got distant and muffled. Heeseung felt that familiar pulling sensation and knew his time was up. "Hey," he said urgently, taking both your hands. "I—"
"It's okay," you said, and you were smiling even though your eyes looked sad. "I know you have to go."
"I don't want to."
"I know. But you'll come back, right?"
save data complete. route finished: good ending achieved. new game+ unlocked. additional content available.
"Yeah," Heeseung promised. "I'll come back."
You kissed him one more time, quick and desperate, and then the world dissolved completely and Heeseung was falling backward through light and color and static. He woke up gasping in his desk chair, controller clutched in his hands so tight his fingers had gone numb. The switch screen was showing the ending credits, rolling slowly with soft music playing. His face felt wet and he realized with some embarrassment that he was crying.
congratulations! you've completed the good ending route.
relationship status: official couple.
total play time: 51 hours, 23 minutes.
would you like to start new game+ with additional couple content?
yes / no
Heeseung stared at the options, his hands still shaking, his heart still racing. He thought about you, about your smile and your laugh and the way you'd kissed him. He thought about how none of it was real but all of it felt real, which was somehow worse. But there was more content. The game was offering him more time with you. More dates, more conversations, more moments. How could he say no to that?
His thumb hovered over the yes option for only a second before he pressed it. The screen went black. Heeseung waited. The switch made its usual loading sound, the soft hum that meant something was processing. He stared at the blank screen and waited for the menu to load, for the game to boot up, for something to happen. But nothing happened, the screen stayed completely black. No loading bar, no menu, no error message. Just his own reflection staring back at him in the screen's surface. He looked terrible, he realized distantly. His eyes were red rimmed and his hair was a mess and he looked like he hadn't slept in days, which was probably accurate.
"Come on," Heeseung muttered, pressing the home button. The switch menu popped up normally, showing all his other games, his profile, the usual interface. He clicked back into Girlfriend Simulator and the screen went black again. he waited another thirty seconds, nothing. He restarted the entire console. When it booted back up and he launched the game, the screen flickered once, twice, and then showed the title screen. Heeseung felt relief flood through him, almost dizzy with it. He clicked continue. The screen loaded for a moment, and then: game over. thank you for playing.
Credits started rolling. The same soft music from before, the same slow scroll of names and acknowledgments. Heeseung watched them pass in disbelief, his stomach sinking further with each line. When the credits finished, it kicked him back to the title screen. He clicked continue again. Same thing: game over, credits, title screen. "What the hell," Heeseung said out loud. He tried load game instead, pulling up his save files. They were all there, all his progress, all forty seven hours of gameplay. He selected the most recent one, the completed route with the good ending marker.
this save file has been completed | start new game+ to continue.
He clicked yes. Black screen. Then after a long pause: error: unable to load content.
"No no no no," Heeseung heard himself saying, clicking frantically now, trying every option, every menu, every possible path to get back into the game. Nothing worked. He checked the time on his phone. 3:29 am. He'd been playing for hours and now he'd been trying to reload for almost thirty minutes. His rational brain knew he should sleep, should deal with this tomorrow when he was thinking clearly, but his rational brain had apparently left the building several dates ago.
He pulled up his recent calls and hit jungwon's name before he could think better of it. it rang once, twice, three times. Then voicemail, Jungwon's voice cheerful and pre recorded telling him to leave a message. Of course Jungwon wasn't answering, it was almost four in the morning. Normal people were asleep at four in the morning. Normal people weren't having breakdowns over video games at four in the morning. Heeseung put his head in his hands and tried to remember the last time he'd felt this hollow about something ending. A relationship, maybe, though his dating history was sparse enough that he couldn't think of a good comparison. This felt worse somehow. The rational part of his brain that hadn't completely shut down was telling him this was ridiculous. Well, it could happen, people got attached to fictional characters all the time. The solution was obvious: take a break, get some perspective, maybe go outside and remember what actual human interaction felt like.
But the rest of him, the larger and louder part, was stuck on the way you'd looked at him on that park bench. The way you'd smiled when he gave you the flower. The way you'd kissed him like you'd been wanting to for a while and were just waiting for permission. The way you'd felt real, impossibly real, more real than most of the interactions he had in his day to day life. "It's not real," Heeseung said out loud to his dark room, his voice rough. "She's not real. It's just code. Just really good code that learned too well."
But his chest ached anyway. And somewhere around six am, Heeseung finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, his switch still sitting on his desk with the title screen frozen on the display. When his alarm went off three hours later for his morning class, Heeseung woke up feeling worse than when he'd gone to sleep. His eyes were gritty and his head hurt and his chest still had that hollow ache that he couldn't explain away as anything other than what it was.
Heeseung found Jungwon in the computer lab during lunch, exactly where he always was. "Hey," Heeseung said, dropping into the chair next to him. He pulled his switch out of his bag and set it on the desk between them. "The game broke."
"What do you mean broke?" Jungwon glanced at the switch, then at Heeseung, then did a double take. "Dude, you look terrible."
He decided to ignore that. "I mean I finished it. Got to the end, got the good ending, and then it asked if i wanted to start new game plus." Heeseung picked up the switch and demonstrated, clicking through the menus. "I said yes and then it just stopped working. Look, it keeps giving me this error or just showing the game over screen. I can load old saves but I can't progress forward."
Jungwon took the switch, frowning at the screen. He clicked through a few menus, tried the same things Heeseung had tried, and his frown deepened. "That's weird. The new game plus feature should be fully implemented. I tested it before I gave you the build."
"Well it's not working now."
"Yeah, I can see that." Jungwon was scrolling through something, his expression shifting from confused to concerned. "This is really strange. It's like the save file is corrupted but also not corrupted? Like it knows you finished the route but it can't load the post game content."
"Can you fix it?" Heeseung asked, and he hated how desperate he sounded but couldn't seem to help it.
Jungwon looked at him for a long moment. "I can try. I'll need to take this and run some diagnostics, see what's actually happening in the backend. But Heeseung, I need you to manage your expectations here."
"What does that mean?"
"It means this is a test build. That's literally why I asked you to play it, to find bugs like this. If something went seriously wrong with the code, if the file corruption is bad enough, I might have to rebuild the entire post game sequence from scratch. That's going to take time."
"How much time?" Heeseung asked, and his voice came out smaller than he intended.
"I don't know. Could be that I have to scrap this version entirely and start over with a clean build." Jungwon was being gentle about it but firm, like he needed Heeseung to understand the reality of the situation. "This is what testing is for dude, finding the breaking points before release."
Heeseung felt something sink in his chest. Weeks. Or maybe never, if Jungwon had to start over. "Okay," he said, because what else could he say. "Okay, just let me know what you find."
"Yeah." Jungwon pocketed the switch cartridge and gave Heeseung another concerned look. "Seriously though, are you okay? You're acting really weird about this."
"I'm fine," Heeseung lied. "Just frustrated. I was really into it and now I can't finish it."
"It's just a game though."
"I know that."
Jungwon didn't look convinced but he didn't push it either. "Okay. Well, go get some sleep or something. You look like you're about to pass out."
Heeseung nodded and left the lab, feeling hollow in a way that didn't make sense. It was just a game. Jungwon was right. He'd gotten too invested and now he needed to take a step back and remember that normal people didn't have emotional breakdowns over dating simulators. He went to his afternoon lecture and sat in the back and didn't retain a single word the professor said. He took notes anyway, his hand moving automatically across the page while his brain was somewhere else entirely. He kept thinking about you waiting in that park, kept wondering if you were still there or if you'd disappeared when the save file corrupted. Kept wondering if code could feel abandoned.
After class he went back to his dorm and tried to do homework. He opened his algorithms textbook and stared at the same problem for twenty minutes without making any progress. Jake came in around six, dumping his bag on the couch and immediately noticing something was off. "You good?" Jake asked, pulling off his jacket.
"Yeah, fine. Just tired."
"You've been saying that all week." Jake sat down at his own desk and spun his chair to face Heeseung. "You've been acting weirder than usual. What's going on?"
Heeseung considered lying but he was too exhausted to come up with anything convincing. "I was playing this game Jungwon made, got really into it and now it's broken and I can't play it anymore and I'm being weird about it."
"Oh." Jake processed this. "Was it one of those games with like, romance options and stuff?"
"Yeah."
Jake nodded slowly, like this explained everything. "Okay, those games are designed to get you attached, man, it's not your fault." He paused. "By the way, there's a party this weekend. Jay's throwing it at his place. You should come."
"I don't know," Heeseung said.
"Come on, it'll be good for you. Get out of your head for a bit. When was the last time you went to a party?"
Heeseung tried to remember and couldn't. "I don't know. Freshman year maybe?"
"Exactly. You need to socialize with actual human beings. No offense but you've been kind of hermiting lately." Jake was already pulling out his phone. "I'm telling Jay you're coming. It's saturday at eight."
"I don't —"
"Nope, you're coming. I'm not letting you sit here and mope about a video game all weekend. That's sad, even for you."
"What does that even—," Heeseung wanted to argue but he was too tired and Jake had a point. Sitting in his room thinking about you wasn't going to fix anything. Maybe going to a party would help. "Okay, yeah, fine," Heeseung said. "I'll go."
"Good. It's going to be fun." Jake turned back to his desk, already texting. "And who knows, maybe you'll meet someone."
Heeseung doubted that but didn't say it out loud. And saturday came faster than Heeseung expected, which was probably for the best because it meant less time to think about backing out. Jake had been monitoring him all day like he was afraid Heeseung would make a run for it, which was fair because Heeseung had definitely considered it at least three times.
By the time eight rolled around, Jake had already gone through Heeseung's entire closet and vetoed most of it. "You can't wear that, it has a stain. That one's too wrinkled. That shirt makes you look like someone's dad." Eventually they settled on black jeans and a dark blue button up that Heeseung had forgotten he owned, probably because he'd bought it for some family thing two years ago and never wore it again. "There," Jake said, looking satisfied. "You look like an actual person now instead of a sleep deprived computer science major."
"I am a sleep deprived computer science major."
"Yeah but you don't have to advertise it." Jake was already heading for the door.
The party was at some place off campus that apparently belonged to Jay's older brother, which explained why it was bigger and nicer than most student housing. The music was loud enough that Heeseung could feel it in his chest before they even got through the door. Jake immediately got pulled into a conversation with some people from his econ class, and Heeseung grabbed a drink from the kitchen just to have something to do with his hands. He wandered through for a while, recognizing some faces from classes but not really knowing anyone well enough to join their conversations. this was why he didn't go to parties. He always ended up standing awkwardly in corners wondering when it would be acceptable to leave.
"Heeseung!" Someone called, and he turned to see Beomgyu waving at him from the balcony. "Dude, I didn't know you went to parties. Come here." Heeseung made his way through the crowd to the balcony where Beomgyu was standing with Soobin and Riki, and the air was clearer out here, easier to breathe. Beomgyu was holding what was very obviously a joint. "Want some?" Beomgyu offered, holding it out. "It's good stuff."
Heeseung normally would have said no because he had assignments due and didn't really like losing control of his thoughts, but tonight his thoughts were the problem so maybe losing control of them for a bit wasn't the worst idea. "Yeah, okay."
He took it and inhaled, immediately coughed. It felt someone had turned down the volume on all his anxious thoughts. He passed it back to Beomgyu and leaned against the railing. They stood out there for a while, passing the joint around, and Heeseung felt himself relax in a way he hadn't in days. Eventually they went back inside and the party had gotten more crowded. Heeseung got another drink and let himself get pulled into a conversation about the upcoming finals with some people he vaguely recognized from his algorithms class. The weed was making everything feel softer and more manageable, like he could actually handle being around this many people without wanting to escape.
Jake found him around eleven and looked genuinely shocked. "You're still here. And you're smiling. Did someone drug you?"
"I drugged myself, actually. Beomgyu had weed."
"Good for you. See, I knew this would be good for you." Jake clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm going to get another drink. You good?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
And the weird thing was that Heeseung actually meant it. He was good. He was at a party and he wasn't hating it and he hadn't thought about the game in at least an hour. Maybe this was what moving on felt like, just slowly forgetting to think about the thing that had been consuming you.
He made his way toward where people were dancing, not to join them but just to watch, and that's when he saw you. Or someone who looked exactly like you.
You were in the middle of the crowd, dancing with a group of friends, and Heeseung's brain stopped. Same hair, same face, same smile he'd memorized over dozens of hours of gameplay. You were wearing a black dress and your hair was down and you were laughing at something one of her friends said, and Heeseung felt like he'd been punched in the chest. It couldn't be you. It just couldn't be. You weren't real. You were code, pixels, a character in a dating simulator that didn't even work anymore. But she looked exactly like you, moved like you, had the same mannerisms he'd come to recognize, and Heeseung couldn't look away.
He stood there frozen, drink forgotten in his hand, just staring. The weed was definitely not helping because it made everything feel surreal and dreamlike, like maybe he'd fallen asleep at the party and this was just his brain torturing him with what he couldn't have. You spun around to the music and laughed and Heeseung's heart was doing something painful in his chest.
And then, as if you could feel him watching, you turned and looked directly at him. Your eyes met across the crowd and the world seemed to stop. Your expression shifted from happy to confused to something Heeseung couldn't identify, like recognition but also shock, like you'd seen a ghost. A pretty one, actually. You stared at him with the same intensity he was staring at you, both of you frozen while people danced and laughed around them, completely oblivious to whatever moment was happening. And Heeseung's mind was racing. You seemed to recognize him, but that was impossible because you'd never met, because you were a stranger, because the person you looked like didn't exist outside of a video game.
Your friends said something to you and you blinked, breaking eye contact. You looked at them, said something Heeseung couldn't hear over the music, and then looked back at him one more time. That same confused, almost dazed expression. Then you turned back to your friends and kept dancing, but your movements were more mechanical now, less loose, like you were going through the motions while your mind was somewhere else. Heeseung just stood there, rooted to the spot, his drink sweating in his hand. His heart was pounding and his head was spinning and he couldn't tell if it was the weed or the shock or both. Probably both. He was high at a party and he'd just seen someone who looked like a video game character and convinced himself it meant something. He was hallucinating. He had to be hallucinating. Or the weed was laced with something. Or he'd finally actually lost his mind.
He turned and pushed through the crowd, Making his way to the bathroom. He needed to splash water on his face, Needed to get his head straight, needed to stop seeing you everywhere just because he missed the game. Heeseung practically fell inside and locked the door behind him. He turned on the faucet and let the water run cold, then splashed it on his face once, twice, three times. The shock of it helped, made everything feel more real and less dreamlike.
He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were definitely red from the weed and he looked slightly unhinged, hair messed up from running his hands through it too many times. "You're fine," he told his reflection. "You're high and you're seeing things and you're fine. She just looks like her. Lots of people probably look like her. Jungwon probably based the character on some generic attractive person template. It doesn't mean anything."
Someone knocked on the bathroom door. He splashed more water on his face, dried off with a questionable towel that was hanging on the rack, and tried to pull himself together. He couldn't hide in the bathroom all night. He needed to go back out there, find Jake, maybe go home and sleep this off. Maybe in the morning this would all make sense or at least feel less overwhelming.
He opened the door and nearly ran directly into you. "Oh, I'm sorry," you said quickly, stepping back.
Heeseung froze. Up close you were even more exactly like the character from the game, every detail perfect, from the shape of your eyes to the way you were nervously adjusting the strap of your dress. You looked at him for a second, that same confused recognition flickering across your face, and then you moved to step past him.
"Wait," Heeseung said, turning before he could stop himself. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. "I'm sorry, do we know each other from somewhere?"
You stopped and turned back, tilting your head slightly as you studied his face. "No, I don't think so. I think I'd remember if we'd met before." You paused, and then your eyes widened slightly like you'd just heard what you said. "I mean, not that I'm saying you have a particularly memorable face or anything. Wait, that sounds bad. I'm not saying you're forgettable either, you're just— " you stopped yourself and took a breath. "Sorry, I'm making this weird. I don't think we've met but you do seem familiar somehow."
Heeseung just stared at you, his brain trying to process the fact that you were standing in front of him, real and solid and rambling nervously in the exact same way the game character had. The same mannerisms, the same voice, the same way of talking yourself into circles when you were flustered. It was you. It was actually you. "Are you okay?" You asked, looking concerned now.
"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine." Heeseung tried to pull himself together. "You just really remind me of someone."
"Good someone or bad someone?"
"Good someone. Definitely good someone."
You smiled at that, a small genuine smile that made Heeseung's chest ache because he'd seen that exact smile dozens of times through a screen. "Well that's good at least. I'm Y/N, by the way."
"Heeseung."
"Nice to meet you, Heeseung." You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, and Heeseung noticed your phone in your hand. The case had a photocard of a character that he recognized immediately — Janna from League of Legends, in her star guardian skin.
"You play league?" He asked before he could think better of it.
Your face lit up. "Yeah! How'd you know?"
"Your phone case."
"Oh my god, yes." You turned your phone to show him properly, looking pleased that he'd recognized it. "I'm a Janna main and I'm not ashamed of it." Heeseung felt something cold run down his spine. Those words. he'd heard those exact words before. "I know, I know," you continued, in the same tone, the same cadence. "Support is boring or whatever, but someone has to keep the ADC alive and it might as well be me."
Heeseung couldn't breathe. Word for word. You'd just said exactly what you'd said in the game, with the same inflection, the same defensive pride. This wasn't a coincidence. This couldn't be a coincidence. "What rank are you?" He managed to ask, his voice coming out rougher than intended.
"Plat 2. I was almost diamond last season but then I had finals and gave up on the grind." You were fully animated now, talking with your hands. "What about you, do you play?"
"Yeah. Diamond 3."
"Oh so you're actually good." You looked impressed. "We should play together sometime."
The world tilted. Heeseung was pretty sure he was having some kind of break from reality because this conversation had already happened. He'd already lived through this exact exchange in the game, and now it was happening again in real life with a real person standing in front of him saying the same things.
"Heeseung!" Someone called out, and Heeseung turned to see Jungwon pushing through the hallway crowd, looking genuinely shocked. "Holy shit, you actually came to a party. I didn't think I'd see this day." Jungwon reached them and then seemed to notice you for the first time. His expression shifted from surprised to confused. "Wait, you two know each other?"
"You know each other?" Heeseung and you said at the exact same time, then looked at each other in surprise.
Jungwon looked between the two of you, his confusion deepening. "Yeah, Y/N's in my game design class." He turned to you. "And Heeseung's my best friend, we're in the same program."
"Wait, so you're that Heeseung!" You looked at him. "He talks about you all the time, by the way. I know your entire sleep schedule at this point."
"That's concerning," Heeseung said.
"Very concerning," you agreed. "So what brings you to the party?" You asked Heeseung. "Jungwon made it sound like you're basically a hermit who only emerges for classes and food."
"My roommate forced me to come. Said I needed to socialize."
"Same, actually. My best friend is around here somewhere." You glanced back toward the party. "She has this theory that I spend too much time gaming and not enough time experiencing real life."
"Gaming is real life," Heeseung said.
"Exactly! That's what I told her." You seemed genuinely pleased that he understood. "But she's on this whole thing about how I need to make more friends and go out more and whatever. So here I am, at a party, making friends." You gestured between yourself and Heeseung. "Look at me, being social."
"Thanks, I'm trying." You checked your phone quickly. "Speaking of my roommate, she's texting me asking where I went. I should probably get back." You looked at Heeseung. "But seriously, add me on league. I meant what I said about playing together."
"Yeah, I will," Heeseung said, and he meant it even though his brain was still trying to process the fact that you were real and standing in front of him.
"Cool. See you guys around." You smiled at both of them and headed back toward the party, weaving through the people in the hallway.
The moment you were out of sight, Heeseung grabbed Jungwon's arm and pulled him toward the front door, outside where it was quieter and they could actually talk without shouting over music. "Dude, what the hell," Heeseung said the moment they were on the sidewalk. "You used her to make the character in the game?"
Jungwon blinked at him. "What? No. What are you talking about?"
"The character in girlfriend simulator. She's exactly like Y/N. Exactly like her, Jungwon. Same face, same personality, same everything."
Jungwon's confusion seemed genuine. "Heeseung, the character customization is completely random for each player. I'm still working on implementing a proper character creator but I ran out of time, so right now it just generates a random appearance based on some base parameters. I didn't use anyone specific as a model."
"That's impossible. She looks exactly like her."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah! I spent fifty one hours with that character. I know what she looks like." Heeseung could hear how unhinged he sounded but he couldn't stop. "And it's not just appearance. The way she talks, the things she said— it's all the same, like, word for word."
Jungwon was quiet for a moment, his expression shifting from confused to concerned. "Okay, I think you need to calm down for a second. I think maybe you played the game too much and now you're seeing patterns that aren't there. Like, you spent all week interacting with this character and now you meet someone who has some similar traits and your brain is making connections."
"Jungwon, I'm not making it up."
"I'm not saying you're making it up, I'm saying your brain might be filling in similarities that aren't actually there." Jungwon pulled out his phone. "Look, I don't even really know Y/N that well. We work on projects together but we don't like, hang out or have deep conversations. I definitely didn't use her as a base for anything."
Heeseung felt something cold settle in his stomach. "Then how do you explain the game knowing things about her? The league stuff, the personality, all of it?"
"The game generates dialogue based on common interests and gaming culture. Lots of people play league. lots of people main support. It's not that weird that there'd be overlap." Jungwon looked genuinely worried now. "Heeseung, I think the game messed with your head more than I thought it would. Maybe we should scrap it entirely."
"No," Heeseung said quickly. "No, I just — I need to understand what happened."
Jungwon sighed. "Look, I actually gave the game to Y/N to test too. A while back, before I gave it to you."
Heeseung's head snapped up. "You what?"
"There's an option in the loading screen. You can choose to play as the protagonist or as the girlfriend. I thought it would be cool to have both perspectives, make it more replayable." Jungwon was scrolling through his phone now. "You didn't see that option?"
"No. There was just a loading screen and then it started."
"Weird. It should have given you a choice." Jungwon pulled up what looked like a message thread. "Anyway, I gave Y/N a beta version to test like a month ago. But she gave it back to me after one day. Said it was too realistic and kind of freaked her out."
"What do you mean too realistic?"
"She said the immersion was too intense. She said it made her uncomfortable how real the boyfriend character seemed." Jungwon looked up from his phone. "Which, now that I think about it, is basically the same thing you've been saying about the girlfriend character."
Heeseung's mind was racing. "So she played it. She played the game from the other perspective."
"Yeah, but just for a few hours. She didn't finish it or anything." Jungwon pocketed his phone. "Why does that matter?"
"I don't know. It just — " Heeseung stopped, trying to organize his thoughts.
Jungwon was watching him carefully. "You look kind of freaked out right now."
Heeseung leaned against the wall of the building, suddenly exhausted. "I just spent a week falling for someone who I thought was just code. And now I find out she looks like a real person and I've been talking to her for the past fifteen minutes like a normal person and I don't know what to do with that information."
"Well, she gave you her discord. You could message her. Play some League together. Get to know the real her instead of the game version." Jungwon paused. "Unless that's too weird for you."
So when Heeseung was ready to leave the party, Jake and Jungwon looked almost disappointed but didn’t argue. They made their way through the crowd toward the front door, and that’s when Heeseung saw you again. You were standing on the sidewalk with two other girls, you were bent over laughing, that genuine kind of laugh where you forget to be self conscious about it.
Heeseung slowed down without meaning to, and Jake nearly walked into him. But then you looked up, like you could sense someone watching. your eyes met Heeseung’s across the sidewalk and you smiled, a smile that felt almost conspiratorial. Like you two were in on a joke that nobody else knew about. Which was insane because you’d met like half an hour ago and had one conversation in a hallway. One of your friends said something and you broke eye contact, still smiling, and climbed into the back seat of the car. Through the window Heeseung could see you saying something that made your friends crack up again. The car pulled away and you didn’t look back, but Heeseung kept staring at the taillights until they disappeared around the corner.
“Okay, what was that?” Jake asked.
“What was what?”
“That whole…” Jake gestured vaguely. “Moment. You guys were having a moment.”
“We weren’t having a moment.”
“You were definitely having a moment. Who was that?”
“Just someone I met. Friend of Jungwon’s.” Heeseung started walking toward their dorm and Jake followed, still looking suspicious.
“You met someone and had a moment with them? At a party? Did I slip into an alternate dimension?”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious, this is unprecedented behavior from you. You don’t do moments with strangers.” Heeseung didn’t know how to explain that it hadn’t felt like meeting a stranger. It had felt like running into someone he already knew, someone he’d been thinking about for days. Which was objectively insane but that didn’t make it any less true.
When they got back to the dorm, Jake immediately went to take a shower, still talking about the party through the bathroom door. Heeseung sat down at his desk and opened his laptop, pulling up discord before he could talk himself out of it. He typed your name into the search bar. There were like fifteen results but he scrolled through until he found one account that matched your username, with a profile picture that matched; a cute drawing of what looked like a cat in a witch hat. He clicked on your profile and immediately started going through your connected accounts and activity like some kind of creep, but whatever, that’s what public profiles were for, right?
Steam account: 847 hours in League of Legends, which was honestly rookie numbers compared to his own. Recently played Roblox, which he wasn’t going to judge because he had his own embarrassing game collection. He’d been growing a garden in Grow a Garden for like six months now and his sunflowers were thriving, thank you very much. Stardew Valley with 234 hours, which was extremely respectable and also adorable. Unpacking with a lot of hours, which he’d never played but had heard good things about. And The Sims 4 with an amount of hours that suggested you had a serious problem with simulation games. Which, to be honest, he kind of had it now too.
Your Spotify was connected too and he could see you’d been listening to a lot of bedroom pop and indie stuff. Your about me section just said “life ain't cookies n cream lil fella,” which made Heeseung chuckle. You had a sense of humor, which is something he kind of already knew, even though he only knew the game version of you.
Heeseung realized he’d been sitting there scrolling through your profile for like ten minutes and definitely needed to actually send the friend request before this got any weirder. He clicked add friend and then immediately closed his laptop like it might explode. He tried to do other things. He checked his phone. He looked at his algorithms homework and immediately closed that because absolutely not. He reorganized the pens on his desk. He considered making ramen but wasn’t actually hungry. Until his laptop pinged. Heeseung lunged for it so fast he almost his water bottle off the desk. He opened discord and there it was: you accepted his friend request. His heart was doing something stupid in his chest. It was just a discord notification, normal people didn’t have heart palpitations over discord notifications. But Heeseung wasn't normal anymore.
But before he could stop himself, before his brain could catch up with what his hands were doing, he opened the dm and typed hey and then, because apparently he was determined to embarrass himself, he sent the little waving robot sticker that discord suggested unintentionally. He stared at what he’d just done in absolute horror. The waving robot. He’d sent you the waving robot sticker. “Oh my god,” Heeseung said out loud to his empty room. His fingers were already flying across the keyboard.
heeseung: sorry lol
heeseung: idk why i sent that
heeseung: the robot i mean
heeseung: anyway hi
He watched the three dots appear that meant you were typing. they disappeared. appeared again. Disappeared. Heeseung was going to have a heart attack.
you: no the robot was cute
you: very welcoming
you: really set the tone
Heeseung couldn’t tell if you were making fun of him or not.
heeseung: the tone being what exactly
heeseung: desperate?
you: i was gonna say endearing but sure we can go with desperate
Heeseung laughed out loud, an actual laugh that made Jake yell “You good?” from the bathroom. Heeseung didn't answer.
heeseung: cool cool cool love that for me
heeseung: starting strong
you: you’re doing great
you: so did you add me just to apologize for an emoji or was there something else
Heeseung stared at the message. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He could play it cool, say something casual about League or whatever. Or he could be honest, which was terrifying but also the weed was still kind of in his system making everything feel less scary than it probably should.
heeseung: honestly i just wanted to talk to you more
heeseung: the conversation in the hallway was cool
The thing was, Heeseung felt bold saying that. Actually bold. This was probably the most direct he’d been with someone (in real life) in years, and he half expected you to think it was weird or too forward or whatever. But you didn’t. You just said “aw that’s sweet, me too!” with a smiley face and kept talking, and Heeseung felt something in his chest unclench. And you talked for hours. About games mostly, because that was the safe territory, the common ground. You told him about how you had been completely consumed by Pokemon Legends ZA, playing it every free moment you had. He admitted he’d loved Arceus when it came out but hadn’t gotten around to ZA yet, and you immediately started telling him everything he was missing out on, your messages coming in quick bursts of enthusiasm about the new mechanics and the Kalos region and how you’d already put in like sixty hours.
You asked him what his favorite games of all time were and he gave you his top five, and you had opinions about all of them, good opinions, the kind that made him want to keep talking just to hear what you’d say next. Somewhere around 1am you sent: “btw you seem really cool hee. we should play something together sometime if you’re down” and Heeseung stared at that message for long enough. You’d called him hee. You’d given him a nickname. And you wanted to play games together. His fingers hovered over the keyboard and he could feel his face getting warm, which was stupid because you couldn’t even see him, but his body didn’t seem to care about logic.
heeseung: yeah definitely
heeseung: i’d be really down for that
You sent back a heart emoji and said you had to sleep, and Heeseung said goodnight, and then he just sat there for a minute staring at the conversation like if he looked at it long enough he could figure out what was happening to him. He was down bad, really down bad. Which was insane because he’d been down bad before this even happened, down bad for a video game character that turned out to look exactly like you, and now he was down bad for the actual real you, and his brain couldn’t quite process the overlap. It felt like two separate situations that had merged into one extremely confusing situation that he didn’t know how to handle.
When he finally went to bed that night, he had that specific feeling you get when something really good has just happened and you’re lying in the dark replaying it in your head. That flutter in your stomach, that slight buzz of excitement, that sense that you’ve just met someone who’s probably going to matter. Someone who’s going to take up space in your life in a way you can’t predict yet but can already feel coming.
And he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t spend the entire next week looking for you on campus. Not in a weird way. Or maybe in a weird way, but he was trying to make it not weird. He’d just happen to walk past the design building between classes. He’d just happen to take a longer route to the dining hall that went by the areas where Jungwon said you usually hung out. He’d just happen to check the game design lab when he was meeting Jungwon, looking around all casual like he wasn’t actively scanning for your face.
Monday: nothing. Tuesday: he saw someone with similar hair from behind and did a weird half jog to catch up only to realize it was absolutely not you and he’d just chased down a complete stranger for no reason. Wednesday: he sat in the campus coffee shop for two hours pretending to do homework but really just watching the door. Thursday: more nothing. By friday Heeseung was starting to think maybe you were a figment of his imagination, maybe the whole party had been a fever dream, maybe he’d made you up entirely. So by afternoon Heeseung had given up. He was going to the library to actually do the algorithms homework he’d been ignoring all week, and he was going to stop being a weird person who wandered around campus hoping to accidentally run into someone.
Except then he walked into the library and saw you. You were tucked into a corner on the second floor, the quiet study section where people went to actually focus. Your laptop was open in front of you, headphones on, and you were doing that thing where you chewed on your pen cap while reading something on the screen. There were books and papers scattered around you in what looked like organized chaos, and your coffee cup said something in sharpie that Heeseung couldn’t read from where he was standing like a creep behind a bookshelf.
Okay. Okay, this was fine. This was a normal situation. You were here, he was here, both of you were in a library because that’s what students do. He just had to walk over there and say hi. Simple. Easy. Not weird at all. But what if you were in the zone? What if you were working on something important and he interrupted and you got annoyed? What if you didn’t actually want to see him and had just been being polite when you said you should play games sometime? He could just sit near you, not like right next to you, but in the general area. That would be natural. He needed to study anyway, it made sense to sit in the quiet section. So he picked a table that was close but not too close. Close enough that you might notice him but far enough that it didn’t look intentional.
He sat down and pulled out his laptop and his textbook, arranging them very carefully, very normally. Then he just sat there, staring at his algorithms homework. Not doing it, just staring. But five minutes passed and you hadn’t looked up. Heeseung opened his laptop. Closed it. Opened it again. He was being ridiculous. He should just get up and go say hi because that’s what normal people did. Normal people didn’t stage elaborate accidental meetings, they just walked up and said hello. He stood up, sat back down, stood up again. And then you finally looked up. Heeseung froze, half standing, half sitting, in the most awkward position possible. You pulled off your headphones and your face went from confused to surprised to happy in the span of like two seconds.
“Heeseung?” You said, keeping your voice library quiet. “What are you doing?”
“Studying,” Heeseung said too quickly, and then realized he was still in that weird half crouch position and sat down properly. “I mean, I was about to. study. I’m here to study.”
You smiled and Heeseung’s brain stopped for a moment. “Oh cool. Me too, obviously.” You gestured at your chaos of books and papers. "Working on this project that’s slowly killing me.”
“Do you want company?” Heeseung asked, and then immediately wanted to take it back because what if you said no, what if you were here specifically to study alone, what if—
“Yeah, actually that’d be nice.” You started clearing some space on your table, moving books and papers around. “I’ve been here for like three hours and I’m losing my mind. Could use a distraction.” So Heeseung grabbed his stuff and moved to your table, trying very hard to look like this was a normal thing he did all the time, sitting with people in libraries, being a person who had casual study sessions with other people. “So,” you said, once he was settled across from you. “What are the odds we both ended up in the same random corner of the library?”
You agreed, and there was something in the way you said it that made Heeseung think maybe you knew it wasn’t really a coincidence, maybe you’d seen him doing his weird laps around the second floor, but you were being nice about it. You settled into studying, or at least Heeseung pretended to study while you actually did work. You’d put your headphones back on but kept one ear uncovered, just in case he needed to ask you something about something, which he definitely wasn’t going to do because he wasn’t actually reading anything on the page in front of him.
Instead he was watching you, maybe in a weird way, but he couldn’t help it. Because sitting there across from you, seeing you up close in the quiet library light, Heeseung was hit with how much you looked like the character from the game. It wasn’t just the face, though that was uncanny enough. It was the mannerisms and the little things, like the way you bit your bottom lip when you were concentrating, eyes narrowed slightly at your screen. The way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear every few minutes even though it would just fall back. The way your nose would scrunch up a little when you read something confusing. He’d seen all of this before, dozens of times, in the game. I mean you had done all of these exact things, in the game.
You looked up suddenly and Heeseung’s eyes immediately darted to his textbook, pretending he’d been reading the whole time. He could feel you looking at him for a second before you went back to your work, and Heeseung let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. This happened like four more times. Very smooth. Very natural. Definitely not obvious at all.
Then you checked your phone and made a small sound of surprise. “Oh shit, I have class in ten minutes.” You started packing up your stuff quickly, shoving papers into your bag without any real organization. “I totally lost track of time.”
“Yeah, me too,” Heeseung lied, because he’d been very aware of every single minute.
You stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder, and then you leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. Just like that. Casual and quick. Your lips pressed against his cheek for maybe half a second before you pulled back. “Thanks for keeping me company,” you said, smiling. “See you later, Hee.”
And then you were gone, weaving through the tables toward the stairs, and Heeseung just sat there frozen. His hand slowly came up to touch his cheek where you’d kissed him, like he needed to confirm it had actually happened. His face felt hot. His brain felt scrambled. You’d kissed him on the cheek. People did that, right? That was a normal friend thing? Except you barely knew each other so were you even friends? And why did his cheek feel like it was burning? And Heeseung realized he was just sitting there touching his face like a complete idiot and forced himself to put his hand down. He should pack up, he should go to his next class. He should do literally anything except sit here having a crisis over a cheek kiss. But he didn’t move, he just sat there, staring at nothing, replaying the moment over and over.
“You good, man?” Heeseung’s head snapped up. Jungwon was standing next to the table, looking at him with concern and also amusement, which was a terrible combination.
“When did you get here?”
“Like two minutes ago. You were very deep in thought.” Jungwon sat down and then casually tossed something onto the table. The switch cartridge, the Girlfriend Simulator cartridge. Heeseung stared at it. “I fixed the game.” Jungwon leaned back in his chair, looking proud of himself. “You can keep playing from where you left off. It was easier to fix than I thought it’d be, just had to rebuild some of the backend routing for the post game content.” Heeseung picked up the cartridge, turning it over in his hands. "The save file's intact," Jungwon continued. “All your progress is still there. The new game plus should work now. I tested it on my switch and it loaded fine."
"Thanks,” Heeseung said, and his voice came out quieter than he meant it to. He shoved the cartridge into his bag and stood up. “I’m leaving."
“Don’t you have that lecture in twenty minutes?”
“Don’t care. Bye.” He left Jungwon sitting there chuckling and headed straight out of the library, across campus, back to his dorm. Jake wasn’t there, which was good because Heeseung didn’t need any more people commenting on his alleged vibe. He sat down at his desk and just looked at the cartridge for a minute. He should think about this. should consider whether playing the game again was a good idea now that he knew you, the real you. Now that things were getting complicated in a way that made his head hurt. But he wasn’t thinking. He was just plugging in his switch, loading up the game, watching the title screen appear with its soft music and clean typography.
continue from last save? yes / no
Heeseung pressed yes immediately. The world materialized around him in that same disorienting rush, colors bleeding into focus, sounds filtering in like someone was slowly turning up the volume. When his vision cleared, he was standing exactly where he’d left off at the park. The fireflies were still drifting lazily through the air like they’d been paused mid flight waiting for him to come back. And you were still sitting on the same bench, looking at him with an expression that made Heeseung’s chest tight.
“You’re back,” you said, and your smile was so genuinely happy it hurt to look at. You stood up and walked over to him, and Heeseung noticed the way the game rendered every detail. The way your hair moved, the exact shade of your eyes, the slight flush on your cheeks. “I missed you.” The words hit him harder than they should have. Heeseung opened his mouth and closed it, trying to figure out what to say. In the game, no time was supposed to have passed. He’d left right after your confession, after the kiss, and now he was back and theoretically it should feel like seconds had gone by. But for him it had been days. Almost a week. A week where he’d met the real you, talked to you, sat across from you in a library, felt your lips on his cheek.
Dialogue options appeared: > i missed you too > sorry i was gone so long > it feels like it’s been forever
Heeseung picked the first one because it was the most honest. “I missed you too,” he said, and he meant it in a way that felt complicated and confusing.
You stepped closer, close enough that Heeseung could see the individual pixels that made up your irises, except they didn’t look like pixels at all. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “After everything, I thought maybe you’d just… disappear.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Heeseung said automatically, and then felt weird about it because he kind of had done that, he’d been gone for days even if the game didn’t register it that way.
You reached up and touched his face, your hand warm against his cheek, and Heeseung’s brain short circuited a little because he could feel it. the texture of your palm, the slight pressure of your fingers. This level of detail shouldn’t be possible. “I really like you,” you said, looking directly into his eyes. “Like, a lot. Is that okay?”
Before Heeseung could pick a dialogue option for that, you kissed him. It wasn’t like the first kiss, this was different. Your hand slid from his cheek to the back of his neck and you pressed closer, and Heeseung forgot for a second that this was supposed to be a game. His hands found your waist automatically, pulling you against him, and you made this small sound that he felt more than heard. When you pulled back, you were breathing harder and your eyes had this look in them that Heeseung recognized from somewhere, that slightly dazed expression people get when they’re thinking about something they want. “Do you want to come back to my place?” You asked, your voice lower now, and your hand was still on the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair in a way that was extremely distracting.
quest update: relationship progression available | warning: mature content ahead | proceed? yes / no | action options: > yes, i’d like that > maybe we should slow down > are you sure?
Heeseung stared at the options. What the fuck. What the actual fuck. This was new, this was definitely new. The game had never had anything like this before. Jungwon had mentioned adding post game content but he definitely hadn’t mentioned adding this kind of content. “Heeseung?” You said, tilting your head slightly. “You okay? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought—”
“No, I want to,” Heeseung said, picking the first option before he could overthink it. “I definitely want to.”
Your smile turned into something that could only be described as pleased, maybe a little mischievous. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, and started walking. The park dissolved around you in that smooth transition the game did, colors bleeding together and reforming into a new location, your apartment, and it looked different now, with softer lighting, more intimate somehow. There was music playing quietly from somewhere, something ambient and atmospheric. You let go of his hand and walked further, then turned to look at him. “You can sit down, you know. You don’t have to just stand there.” Heeseung moved to the couch and sat down, hyperaware of every movement, every detail. His hands felt sweaty and his heart was racing. This was insane, this was absolutely insane. He was about to have virtual sex with a video game character that looked exactly like a real person he’d just met and had a weird complicated semi crush on. You sat down next to him, close enough that your thigh pressed against his. “Can I ask you something?” You said.
“Sure.”
“Why did you come back?” Your expression was serious now, searching his face. “I mean, you finished the route. You got the good ending. You didn’t have to come back.”
dialogue options: > i wanted to see you again > i wasn’t ready to say goodbye > because i care about you
Heeseung picked the third option. “Because I care about you,” he said, and it felt true even though it shouldn’t, even though you were code, even though this wasn’t real.
“I care about you too,” you said quietly. Then you leaned in and kissed him again, and this time Heeseung didn’t think about the game mechanics or the dialogue options or any of it. He just kissed you back. Your hands slid under his shirt and Heeseung gasped slightly at the sensation, the feeling of your fingers on his skin. It felt real, too real, like impossibly real. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes dark. “Is this okay?” You asked, your hands still under his shirt, warm against his stomach.
action options: > yes > this is more than okay > [pull her closer]
Heeseung picked the third option and pulled you closer, and you made this satisfied sound and kissed him harder. You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, and Heeseung’s brain was trying very hard to process the logistics of what was happening. This was a Nintendo Switch game. This was running on a console made for Pokemon and Mario Kart. There was no way this level of content was actually programmed in here. You smiled and kissed his jaw, then his neck, and Heeseung felt his brain dissolve into static. Your teeth grazed his skin lightly and he made a sound that was probably embarrassing but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
intimate scene progression: 45% | continue? yes / no
current comfort level: high | romantic tension: maximum |achievement unlocked: relationship deepening
The notifications kept appearing in his peripheral vision and Heeseung tried to ignore them because they were extremely distracting and also kind of killing the mood, if a video game could have a mood, which apparently this one could. “Hey,” you said, pulling back to look at him. Your face was flushed and your lips were slightly swollen and you looked devastating. “You’re thinking too hard. I can tell.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
dialogue options: > nothing’s wrong > this feels really intense > i’m just overwhelmed > i keep forgetting this isn’t real
Heeseung wanted to pick the last option but that felt like it would break something, some unspoken rule about the game. So he picked the third one. “I’m just overwhelmed,” he admitted. “In a good way. You’re just really… a lot. In the best way possible.”
You softened at that, your expression shifting from concerned to affectionate. “You’re sweet, you know that?” You kissed his cheek. “We can slow down if you want. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“No, I want this,” Heeseung said, and he did, desperately, even though he knew he probably shouldn’t. “I’m just trying to figure out how this is even possible.”
“How what’s possible?”
“You. This. All of it.” Heeseung knew he wasn’t making sense but the words kept coming anyway. “You feel so real. More real than anything I’ve experienced before. More real than most things I've experienced in actual life, honestly."
You looked at him for a long moment, something unreadable in your expression. Then you said, very quietly, "Maybe that’s because I am real.”
The world glitched. Just for a second, so quick Heeseung almost missed it. The lighting flickered, the textures of the room seemed to shift and resettle, and there was this sound, like static, like interference. You didn’t seem to notice. You were still looking at him with that same expression, waiting for him to respond. error log: reality sync mismatch detected | warning: boundary deviation exceeding normal parameterssystem status: unknown variable introduced
“What do you mean?” Heeseung asked, his voice coming out strained.
“I said maybe I’m real. Maybe this is real. Does it matter?” You touched his face again, gentle. "Does it change anything if I'm real or not real? You’re here, I’m here, this moment exists. Isn’t that enough?”
dialogue options:> yes, that’s enough > no, i need to understand what’s happening >i think something’s wrong with the game > [kiss her to avoid answering]
Heeseung stared at the options, his heart pounding. Part of him wanted to pick the second or third option, wanted to understand what was happening, wanted to figure out why the game was doing things it shouldn’t be able to do. But another part of him, the larger part, just wanted to stop thinking and exist in this moment with you, real or not real, code or person or whatever you were. So he picked the fourth option. His hands moved before his brain could catch up— one sliding to the small of your back, the other cupping your jaw — and he pulled you in, kissing you like the question itself might disappear if he just didn't let go. You made a soft, surprised sound against his lips, but it melted into something needier, as you kissed him back just as fiercely. His hands slid up your thighs, over the soft fabric of your dress, until his fingers found the hem. He tugged lightly, a silent question, and you answered by pressing closer, your body rolling against his in a way that pulled a rough sound from his throat.
action options: > pull her closer > slide hands under her dress > grip her waist and guide her hips > [kiss her neck]
Heeseung didn't even look at the options properly this time. He picked the third one instantly, fingers digging into your waist as he pulled you flush against him, guiding the slow, deliberate grind of your hips. You gasped into his mouth, nails scraping lightly down his chest through his shirt, and the sound you made was needy and it went straight through him. "Heeseung," you breathed, breaking the kiss just enough to look at him. your cheeks were flushed deep, lips swollen and wet, dress riding up slightly from the way you were moving in his lap. "You feel—"
He didn't let you finish. He kissed you deeper, harder, tongue sliding against yours like he needed to taste every part of you. One hand stayed firm on your waist, keeping the rhythm, while the other slipped higher under the hem of your dress, tracing the bare skin of your thigh. You shivered, thighs tightening around his hips, and he felt you press down harder, chasing the friction. You pulled back suddenly, just far enough to grab the bottom of his shirt. Your eyes locked on his, asking. He nodded once, barely, and you tugged it up and over his head in one smooth motion. The second it was gone, your hands were on him again, palms sliding over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of muscle like you were mapping him out. "Better," you whispered, voice rough now, and then your mouth was on his collarbone, kissing down his chest, teeth grazing just enough to make him hiss. Heeseung's head fell back against the couch for a second, eyes squeezing shut, before he surged forward again.
action options: > pull the straps of her dress down > flip her onto the couch > trace her back and pull her even closer > [let her take control]
He picked the third, hands sliding up your back under the thin straps of your dress, fingers splaying wide as he pulled you impossibly closer. Your chest pressed against his, skin on skin now except for the flimsy fabric between you, and he could feel your heart racing just as fast as his. You moaned softly against his neck, hips moving faster, more desperate, and Heeseung matched the rhythm, guiding you with his grip on your waist. Every roll of your body against his made his breath catch, made the heat coil tighter low in his stomach. Your hands were everywhere — his hair, his shoulders, nails dragging down his back— and he was losing it, completely losing it.
action options: > slip the straps down her shoulders > lift the dress over her head > tease the hem higher > [kiss her while undressing her]
He picked the first one, sliding the straps down slowly, watching as the dress loosened and slipped lower, exposing more of your skin. You didn't stop him, instead, you arched your back slightly, helping it along, your eyes locked on his with a look that dared him to keep going. The dress pooled around your waist, and Heeseung's breath caught at the sight of you, bare from the waist up, the soft curve of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "God," he muttered, voice barely audible, and then he leaned in, mouth finding the sensitive spot on your neck. He kissed there first, open mouthed, then grazed his teeth lightly, sucking just enough to leave a faint mark. You tilted your head back, giving him better access, a low moan escaping your lips that vibrated against his skin. Your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, and Heeseung felt that coil of tension wind tighter, his hips bucking up instinctively to meet your rhythm. The friction was maddening, too much and not enough, and he could feel himself hardening against you, the thin layers between you doing nothing to dull the sensation.
intimate scene progression: 92% | arousal level: peak | system warning: immersion threshold breached
A faint static hum buzzed in his ears for a split second, the room's edges blurring like a bad render, but it passed as quickly as it came. You didn't notice, or if you did, you didn't care — your focus was on him, on the way his mouth moved down your neck to your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your face flushed, eyes glassy with want. "Heeseung," you said, voice husky and breathless, "Do you want to take this to the bedroom? We can… get more comfortable."
The action wheel popped up: action options: > carry her to the bedroom > pull her up and walk together > push her down on the couch instead > [deepen the kiss and decide later]
Heeseung picked the first one without a second thought. In one fluid motion, he stood, arms wrapping around your waist to lift you effortlessly. You yelped in surprise, legs wrapping around his hips instinctively. the sudden shift made you cling to him, arms around his neck, and Heeseung kissed you hard as he carried you, tasting the salt on your lips from the heat of the moment. The transition was seamless, the game dissolving the living room around you in that familiar bleed of colors, reforming into your bedroom. Soft lighting from a bedside lamp, sheets rumpled like they'd been waiting, the air thicker somehow. Heeseung lowered you onto the bed gently, following you down, his body covering yours as he settled between your legs. You looked up at him, hands sliding down his chest to his waistband, fingers teasing the edge. "Now where were we?" You whispered, pulling him closer.
Heeseung lowered you onto the bed gently, the mattress dipping under your combined weight as he settled between your legs. Your dress was already bunched high on your thighs, and the air between you crackled with anticipation. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, hands tugging at his waistband, pulling him closer until his hips pressed against yours. The heat of you through the thin fabric was driving him insane — his hands braced on either side of your head, breath ragged as he leaned down to kiss you again, deeper, hungrier.
But just as his fingers brushed the hem of your dress to slide it off completely, everything froze. The world glitched hard; colors inverting for a split second, a low error chime ringing in his ears like a nintendo switch low battery warning. You froze mid motion, lips parted, eyes wide and unblinking, like a paused cutscene. The music cut out. Notifications exploded across his vision in a pop up that took over half the screen:
kink compatibility survey | new content unlock: personalized intimacy | please select preferences to optimize experience (this will not affect main storyline) > time remaining: 30 seconds
Heeseung blinked, staring in horror as a massive form materialized, checkboxes scrolling down like some deranged tinder profile from hell:
His face burning hotter than the tension from seconds ago. "What the fuck is this?" His thumbs mashed the joy cons frantically, heart pounding from equal parts embarrassment and urgency. Thirty seconds? He wasn't even thinking straight — he just spam clicked the safe ones to get it over with. Checkmark on praise kink. Oral focus (both). Dirty talk (why not, he was already losing his mind). Slider cranked to 7 because... yeah. No bondage — keep it simple, game. Vanilla only stayed unchecked because apparently this freakshow had layers.
The pop up vanished with a cheerful ding. You unfroze instantly, blinking like nothing happened, your hands resuming their path down his chest. "Hee?" you murmured, voice soft and teasing, thighs parting wider beneath him. "You okay?"
He swallowed hard, brain still reeling. "Yeah, yeah." You smiled, wicked and knowing somehow, and pulled him down into another kiss. His hands finally obeyed, pushing the dress the rest of the way off your hips, sliding it down your legs until you were bare except for your underwear. The sight of you all spread out hit him. He trailed kisses down your chest, mouth closing over one nipple, sucking gently as you arched into him with a gasp. "You feel perfect," he whispered against your skin, the praise slipping out naturally, and you shivered, fingers threading into his hair. His hand slid lower, between your thighs, fingers brushing over the damp fabric of your underwear. You moaned his name, hips lifting eagerly, and Heeseung pressed harder, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had you writhing. "So wet for me already," he murmured, voice rough with want, testing the dirty talk, and god, it worked, because your breath was hitching beautifully.
You tugged at his pants impatiently. "Off. Now." He obliged in a blur, shedding them along with everything else until there was nothing between you. He hooked his fingers into your underwear, pulling them down slowly, eyes locked on yours as he tossed them aside.
action options: > taste her first > enter her slowly > tease with fingers > [let her guide]
He picked the first, Heeseung's mind was a haze of want and disbelief as he settled between your thighs, your legs parting wider for him like an invitation he couldn't refuse. The sight of you — bare, glistening, so ready —made his mouth water. This is a game, he reminded himself, heart pounding. Just a fucking game. I can do whatever I want. Things I'd never have the guts to try in real life. No judgment, no consequences. Just you, writhing under him, and the freedom to indulge every filthy thought he'd ever buried.
He hooked his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer until his face was buried between your legs. His tongue flicked out experimentally at first, tasting you, sweet and tangy, like nothing he'd imagined, but better. You bucked against him with a sharp gasp, and that sound flipped a switch. Heeseung groaned against you, the vibration making you whimper, and he dove in deeper, tongue flat and broad as he licked a slow, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit. "Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured, voice muffled against your skin, dirty words spilling out because why the hell not? In real life, he'd be too shy, too careful, but here? He could be filthy. "So wet for me already, dripping down my chin. You like that, huh?"
You moaned louder, hands fisting the sheets, then tangling in his hair to pull him closer. "Yes god, Heeseung don't stop." Your voice was wrecked, breathy and desperate, and it fueled him. He sucked your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it in circles, then flicking fast and hard, alternating with long, sloppy licks that had you trembling. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you open, spreading you wider so he could bury his face deeper, nose pressing against you as he devoured you like he was starving.
He picked the fourth mentally, because fuck it, this was his chance to let loose. "Tell me how good it feels," he growled, pulling back just enough to blow cool air over your slick folds, watching you shiver. "Tell me you want my tongue fucking you deeper."
"Please," you gasped, hips grinding up toward his mouth, chasing the contact. "Heeseung, your tongue— fuck, it's so good. Deeper, I need it deeper."
He plunged his tongue inside you, thrusting it in and out, mimicking what he wanted to do with his cock later. His thumb found your clit, rubbing firm circles while he tongue fucked you, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room. You were soaking him, face, chin, and he loved it, lapping it up greedily, humming in approval at how messy it was getting. "You're gonna come on my face, aren't you?" He taunted, voice rough and low, pulling back to suck your clit again, harder this time, teeth grazing just enough to make you cry out. "Do it. Come for me, show me how much you love my mouth on this pretty pussy."
You arched off the bed, a broken moan tearing from your throat as the orgasm hit, waves crashing through you. Heeseung didn't stop, licking you through it, drawing it out until you were oversensitive and twitching, begging him to ease up. only then did he pull away, lips shiny and swollen, grinning up at you with a wicked, satisfied look. "Good girl," he praised, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, though he didn't really want to, part of him liked the mess, the evidence. you were panting, eyes hazy as you reached for him. He crawled back up your body, capturing your lips in a kiss that let you taste yourself on his tongue, another thing he'd never dare in real life, but here it felt right, hot. "You taste yourself? So fucking dirty," he whispered against your mouth, positioning himself at your entrance. "Ready for more?"
"Yes please," you begged, nails digging into his shoulders, your voice a needy whine that made his cock twitch against you. You were so wet, slick from his mouth and your own release, and Heeseung could feel the heat radiating from you, pulling him in. But before he could thrust forward, the game intervened again again:
position selection: customize your intimacy > missionary (classic connection) > doggy style (deeper access) > her on top (let her ride) > against the wall (intense standing) > [spooning (gentle side entry)]
Heeseung stared at the options, a mix of arousal and exasperation flooding him. Jungwon, you pervert, he thought, adding a fucking position menu? He timer was ticking— 15 seconds — and you were frozen mid breath, eyes locked on his with that desperate, submissive Gaze that made him want to wreck you. He picked the third option fast, because fuck, the idea of you riding him, taking control but still under his command? Yeah, that was it. The menu vanished with a satisfied beep, and the scene resumed seamlessly. You blinked, as if nothing happened, but your hands were already pushing at his chest gently, urging him to lie back. "Let me... let me ride you," you murmured, voice soft and obedient, like you were reading his mind, or the game's script. "Please? I want to make you feel good."
Heeseung grinned, dark and dominant, shifting onto his back and pulling you with him until you straddled his hips. His hands gripped your thighs hard, fingers digging in possessively as he looked up at you, flushed, eager, completely at his mercy. "Yeah? You wanna ride my cock like a good girl?" He growled, the words coming easier now, dirtier, because this wasn't real life. No holding back.
You whimpered, hands bracing on his chest, your hips grinding down instinctively against his length, coating him in your wetness. "Please, Hee... I need you inside me so bad. I'll be good."
Fuck, he thought, she's so subby, so perfect. The game's kink sync must've kicked in, amplifying everything — your voice trembling, eyes wide and pleading, body arching like you were made to submit. Heeseung's hands slid up to your hips, guiding you, lifting you just enough to position himself at your entrance. "That's my girl. Sink down on me slow— let me watch you take every inch." You obeyed instantly, lowering yourself onto him, the head of his cock pushing past your folds, stretching you open. It was agonizingly slow, and Heeseung groaned low in his throat, feeling the tight, wet heat envelop him inch by inch. You were so fucking real, hotter than any game should allow, clenching around him like velvet, your walls fluttering as you took him deeper.
"Oh god you're so big," you gasped, head falling back, eyes fluttering shut as you adjusted, a shiver running through you. It felt too real, the stretch, the fullness, the way he throbbed inside you, every vein and ridge pressing against your sensitive spots. Heeseung could feel it all, amplified, like the game had cranked the sensitivity to max. Sweat beaded on his skin, your thighs trembling around him, and for a second, he forgot it was code — this was you, real you, riding him.
intimate scene progression: 98% | dominance level: high | submission sync: optimal | warning: haptic feedback overload
A faint glitch rippled through the air — the lamp flickering, your moan echoing with a digital edge for a heartbeat — but it only made him thrust up harder, hands gripping your ass to pull you down rougher. "Ride me, baby. Bounce on my cock," he commanded, voice gravelly and demanding, slapping your ass lightly to spur you on. "Faster, come on."
You moaned louder, hands on his chest for leverage as you started moving up and down, hips rolling in circles that ground your clit against him. "Like this? Fuck, Heeseung it feels so good— you're so deep." Your voice broke on a whimper, body obeying his every cue, riding him harder, faster, tits bouncing with each thrust.
Heeseung bucked up to meet you, thrusting deep enough to make you cry out, one hand sliding up to wrap around your throat gently. "That's it, take it all. You're mine in here, aren't you? My perfect little girl, creaming all over my cock." You clenched tighter, nodding frantically.
"Yes—fuck, Heeseung, I love it. You're so deep, so big...." Your voice was breathy, submissive, breaking on moans as you submitted completely, body moving exactly how he wanted, faster when he slapped your ass, slower when he pulled you down hard.
action options: > thrust up harder > put a finger in her mouth > choke lightly > [pull her hair]
Heeseung picked the second without hesitation, his thumb tracing your lower lip before pushing it into your mouth. You sucked on it immediately, tongue swirling around it like it was his cock, eyes half lidded and locked on his, so obedient it made his dick twitch inside you. "That's it, suck it like a good girl," he rasped, your wet lips wrapped around his finger, drool starting to drip. "Imagine it's my cock in your mouth while I fuck this tight pussy. You'd take both, wouldn't you?" You moaned around his thumb, sucking harder, hips stuttering as the added sensation pushed you closer to the edge. Then, in the corner of his screen, a new notification flickered: partner preference update: increase roughness? yes / no | affinity: high for dominant play
She likes it rougher? Heeseung thought, a smirk tugging at his lips as he mentally selected yes. Wow, this is way easier than in real life. The game adjusted instantly, your moans turning needier, body arching more desperately as he ramped up the intensity. "You want it rougher, huh?" He taunted, pulling his thumb from your mouth with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting it to your lips. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise — if this were real— and thrust up sharply, slamming into you with more force. "Beg for it then. Tell me how bad you want me to wreck this pussy."
"Please—fuck me harder, Heeseung," you cried out, leaning forward to brace on his shoulders as you rode him faster, chasing the roughness.
intimate scene progression: 99% | climax indicator: approaching for both | options: prolong / climax now / switch position
The bar flashed red in his peripheral, both your arousal meters pulsing near max. He could feel it too, the coil tightening low in his gut, your body starting to tense and shake. But Heeseung wasn't ready to end it. He selected prolong and switch position, flipping the script. He rolled you both over, pulling out just long enough to maneuver you onto your side, spooning behind you. His chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you tight, the other lifting your thigh high. "Not yet," he whispered hot against your ear, nipping the lobe. "Gonna fuck you like this now." You nodded weakly, pushing your ass back against him. Heeseung thrust back in from behind, the angle hitting deeper, his cock dragging against your g-spot with every slow, rough pump. His hand slid between your legs, fingers circling your clit fast and hard, while his other arm pinned you close. "That's my good girl," he growled, pounding into you now, the spooning position letting him grind deep. "Taking it so well." Your moans turned into desperate sobs, body arching back into him.
Heeseung's thrusts were relentless, his cock dragging deep inside you with every slow, powerful snap of his hips. You were a whimpering mess against him, back arched, ass grinding back to meet him as his fingers worked your clit in tight, fast circles. "Fuck you're so tight like this," he growled, teeth grazing your shoulder, leaving a mark that made you shiver.
intimate scene progression: 99.5% | climax indicator: critical for both | options: prolong / climax now / switch position
The meters were flashing urgently now, his own arousal bar teetering on the edge, but Heeseung still wasn't done — he wanted more, wanted to push the limits of this insane game until it broke. One more switch, he thought, selecting prolong and switch position again. The game responded instantly, a soft chime echoing as he pulled out, flipping you onto your stomach with rough hands. You gasped at the sudden movement, face down on the bed, ass up as he positioned himself behind you, knees spreading your thighs wide. "On your stomach, baby— ass up for me," he commanded. He slapped your ass hard, the crack echoing, your skin blooming red under his palm, and you cried out, pushing back eagerly like the subby little thing the game had turned you into. "That's right, take it. You love being fucked like this, don't you?"
You nodded into the sheets, voice muffled and needy. "Yes—god, yes, Heeseung." The game's encouragement popped up in his vision — dominance boost: activated | roughness level: max | achievement: total submission unlocked — and it spurred him on, like the system was egging him to go further, deeper into the filth.
He thrust back in from behind, burying himself to the hilt in one rough stroke, the angle hitting even deeper, making you scream into the pillow. His hands gripped your hips bruisingly, pounding into you with brutal force, skin slapping loud and obscene. "So fucking wet, dripping all over me," he snarled, spanking your ass again, harder this time, alternating cheeks until they were stinging red. You arched higher, offering more, moans turning into sobs of pleasure. He tangled one hand in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your neck, lips brushing your ear as he growled, "look at you, taking my cock like a good girl. Beg for more — tell me how much you need me to ruin this pussy."
"Please—ruin me, Heeseung," you begged, voice breaking. The game flashed more incentives — rough play affinity: 100% | continue for bonus immersion — and Heeseung lost it, spanking you in rhythm with his thrusts, pulling your hair tighter to arch your back, fucking you rougher, faster, the bed shaking under the force. Glitches were hitting harder now, but it only made him thrust deeper, the hyper real sensations overwhelming: the sting of your skin under his palm, the tight ripple of your walls around him, your sweat slicked back against his chest.
intimate scene progression: 99.99% | climax indicator: imminent | warning: system overload detected
He was right there, teetering on the edge, cock throbbing inside you, but you twisted slightly, looking back at him with glassy, desperate eyes. "Heeseung — cum inside me, please," you implored. "Fill me up, I need it."
For a split second, his brain stopped. Wait, cum inside? What if— but then reality (or unreality) hit him comically hard. It's a game, dumbass. Pixels can't get pregnant. He almost laughed mid thrust, the absurdity breaking through the haze, but he shoved it aside, diving back. "Yeah? You want me to breed this tight pussy?" He growled, slamming into you harder, spanking one last time for good measure. "Beg for it louder—"
"Yes—fuck, Hee!" You cried, clenching around him desperately, body trembling on the brink. "Cum inside me, please— breed me, make me yours!" That did it. The climax hit like a wave, crashing over you both at once. Heeseung thrust deep one final time, groaning loud as he spilled inside you, feeling the hot pulse of his release mix with your own orgasm, walls milking him dry. You screamed his name, body convulsing under him, the shared peak amplified by the game — sensations exploding, vision blurring with pleasure and glitches alike.
As your body shuddered through the aftershocks, Heeseung collapsed beside you, pulling you close against his chest with a gentleness that felt worlds away from the roughness just moments ago. His arms wrapped around you protectively, one hand stroking your hair softly, fingers threading through the tangled strands like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. The room was still glitching faintly, but he ignored it, focusing on you, on the way your breaths synced with his, slowing down together.
Heeseung pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then your temple, his voice dropping to a whisper, sweet and caring, laced with concern. "Hey... you okay? I got carried away back there. I'm sorry if I hurt you."
You looked up at him, eyes soft and hazy, a small smile tugging at your lips as you snuggled closer, head resting on his chest. "No, Hee... I liked it. A lot. It was perfect." Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his skin, voice turning playful, like the dynamic lingered just a bit. "You made me feel so good. Don't apologize."
He chuckled quietly, relief washing over him, and he hugged you tighter, hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Good. I just... want to take care of you now." The game prompted options in his vision, soft and glowing: aftercare options: > hold her closer > kiss her gently > whisper sweet nothings > [offer water/snack] -- he picked the third, leaning down to murmur against your ear, "you're amazing, you know that? So beautiful, so perfect for me. I could stay like this forever." You hummed contentedly, body relaxing fully into his, the contrast hitting him. The glitches were fading, but notifications kept pinging: comfort level: maximum | post intimacy glow: active | save progress? yes / no
You shifted slightly, looking up at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. Affectionate, but something deeper, almost knowing. "Heeseung..." your voice was quiet. "See you out there."
He blinked, confusion creasing his brow. "What do you mean?" He sat up a little, heart picking up again, but before you could answer — or before the dialogue wheel could pop up — the world started dissolving. colors bled out, the room flickering violently, static roaring in his ears like a system crash.
Everything went black. Heeseung jolted upright in his chair, the Switch still clutched in his sweaty hands, the screen dark and powered off. His room came into focus: the dim light from his desk lamp, posters on the wall, the faint hum of his pc in the background. His heart was racing, breaths coming fast, and then he felt a sticky, warm mess in his pants, soaking through his boxers. "What the—" he muttered, voice cracking as the full reality sank in. His face burned hotter than ever, cheeks flaming red as he shifted in the gaming chair. He'd actually cum inside his pants. For real. Not just some weird dream or an asleep fantasy — no, full on, pants ruining orgasm from a Nintendo Switch Girlfriend Simulator game. "Holy shit."
Heeseung stared at the dark screen in his hands, the console now completely powered off, innocent looking with its cute joy cons and pastel buttons. It looked so harmless sitting there on his lap, like it hadn't just mind fucked him for hours and then physically fucked him back. He finally set the switch down on his desk, pushing it as far away as the cords allowed. He groaned, dropping his face into his hands.
After cleaning himself up in the bathroom — which involved avoiding eye contact with his own reflection because he couldn't handle the judgment he knew he'd see there — Heeseung collapsed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. His body felt loose and tired in a way that should have been relaxing but instead just made him feel deeply, profoundly embarrassed.
The worst part was that he wanted to do it again. That was what really got him. Not the fact that it happened, but the fact that his brain was already thinking about when he could play next, or well, when he could fuck you next. He felt like a teenager who'd just discovered something he definitely shouldn't have and was now completely obsessed with it.
He'd spent most of his Sunday in his room alternating between staring at his Switch and telling himself he absolutely was not going to play it again, which had been moderately successful except for the part where he'd picked it up four different times before forcing himself to put it back down. So on that week, he started walking across campus toward the engineering building, head down and hoodie up because he felt like everyone could somehow tell what he'd done just by looking at him, when he saw you. You were sitting on one of the benches outside the library with your laptop open, clearly working on something, your hair pulled back and you were wearing an oversized hoodie that had some game logo on it he couldn't quite make out from this distance. Heeseung immediately changed direction.
He took the long way around the building, added an extra five minutes to his walk, and showed up to lecture slightly out of breath. He was very deliberately not thinking about the fact that he'd just actively avoided you. Which was ridiculous. You hadn't done anything, you didn't even know what had happened. You probably hadn't thought about him at all since that day at the library, were probably just sitting there doing homework like a normal person while Heeseung was having a complete psychological breakdown over a video game.
The problem was that every time he thought about you now, his brain immediately supplied images from the game. The way you'd looked at him, the way you moaned, the sounds you'd made, the way you came, the way it had felt so impossibly real that his body had reacted like it was actually happening. And now he couldn't separate that from the real you, the person he'd met at the party who'd been nice and funny and way too easy to talk to. The rest of the week continued like this. He saw you everywhere now, which was ironic because before the party he'd never noticed you once and now you were apparently in every building he entered. Tuesday you were in the coffee shop in the student center. Wednesday you walked past him in the hallway between classes. Thursday he saw you in the library again, this time on the second floor, and he'd actually turned around and walked back out.
His switch was on his desk, fully charged, basically taunting him. He'd managed to avoid playing it all week, had told himself he was being responsible and mature about the whole situation. But he couldn't stop thinking about it. Every time his mind wandered, it went right back to that night, to the game, to you. And his body was betraying him too, which was mortifying. He'd be sitting in lecture and think about the game for half a second and suddenly he'd have to adjust his laptop to hide the fact that he was getting hard in the middle of algorithms class. It happened during study sessions, during meals, during completely random moments when his brain decided to remind him that the game existed and he could play it whenever he wanted.
He felt disgusting. He was kink shaming himself, which he didn't even know was possible, but here he was, lying in bed at two am feeling like a creep for being attracted to a video game character who happened to look exactly like a real person he'd met. But he also couldn't stop thinking about playing again. About whether it would be like the first time or if there were other features, other scenarios. His brain kept supplying possibilities and his body kept responding and he felt trapped in this cycle of shame and want that he didn't know how to break.
And then on friday afternoon, Heeseung was in his dorm trying to focus on an assignment that was due monday when someone knocked on his door with the kind of aggressive persistence that could only be Jungwon. He considered pretending he wasn't home but Jake had already opened the door before Heeseung could say anything. "Oh hey Jungwon," Jake said. "He's here but he's been weird all week so good luck."
"Thanks for the warning," Jungwon said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He went to Heeseung's room and looked at him, who was very deliberately staring at his laptop screen. "Okay, we're going to Five Guys. Get up."
"I'm busy."
"No you're not." Jungwon grabbed Heeseung's hoodie off his chair and threw it at him. "Come on. We're getting burgers and you're going to tell me why you've been ignoring me all week."
"I haven't been ignoring you."
"You answered my texts with one word responses and you've avoided me on campus. That's ignoring me." Jungwon crossed his arms. "So either you come willingly or I'm going to make a scene. Your choice."
Heeseung knew Jungwon well enough to know he absolutely would make a scene. "Fine. But I'm not hungry."
"You're never not hungry. Let's go." And twenty minutes later they were sitting in Five Guys with their orders, the place mostly empty since it was that weird time between lunch and dinner.
Heeseung had been hoping the walk would give him time to figure out what to say to Jungwon, but instead he'd just spent it thinking about the game and feeling more and more uncomfortable. Because the thing was, if Heeseung had done what he'd done in the game, that meant Jungwon had programmed it. Jungwon had sat at his computer and coded in all those options, all those scenarios, all those very specific and detailed features that Heeseung had discovered. Which meant either Jungwon was way more perverted than Heeseung had ever given him credit for, or something else was going on.
"Okay, you're doing it again," Jungwon said, interrupting Heeseung's spiral. "You're being weird and quiet and you won't look at me. What's going on? Is it about the game? Did something break again?"
Heeseung knew he had to say something because this had gone too far. Because if the mature content was intentional, then they needed to have a very different conversation about boundaries and warnings and maybe Jungwon's concerning lack of shame. And if it wasn't intentional, if this was some kind of glitch or malfunction, then that was somehow even worse because it meant the game was doing things beyond anyone's control. Either way, Heeseung couldn't keep avoiding this. Jungwon was his best friend. If he couldn't talk to Jungwon about this, even if it was mortifying, then what was the point of having a best friend? So Heeseung admitted: "Yeah, it's about the game."
"Okay, so tell me." Jungwon looked at him.
"Look, you could've just... you could have warned me that it had adult content." Heeseung forced himself to look at Jungwon. "Like, explicit that I wasn't expecting in a dating simulator."
Jungwon blinked at him. "What?"
"I'm just saying, a heads up would have been nice. I know you're trying to make it realistic but I wasn't prepared for how detailed it was going to get."
"Bro, what are you talking about?"
And then it all came out like Heeseung couldn't stop himself. "I'm talking about the fact that the game has very explicit scenes with very detailed options and I don't know if you've ever actually looked at what you programmed but it's intense, Jungwon. Like the dialogue options were insane, I could say basically anything and the character would respond and some of those options were really freaky. And the action options were even worse, there were so many of them and they were all very specific and very detailed and I'm not going to list them but oh my god and then there was a whole section where it asked me about preferences and kinks and I thought that was just for character building but no, it actually used that information! And there were position suggestions. Position suggestions, Jungwon! With fucking diagrams, man. Why did you add diagrams?! And the whole thing was just very immersive and very realistic and I had a physical reaction that I'm not going to elaborate on but I think you can figure out what I mean and I've been avoiding you all week because I didn't know how to have this conversation without wanting to die of embarrassment."
Heeseung finally stopped to breathe and realized Jungwon was staring at him with an expression of complete bewilderment. "Heeseung," Jungwon said slowly. "I didn't add any of that content."
"What."
"I didn't program explicit scenes. There's no adult content in the game. It's a dating simulator not a porn game. The most intimate it gets is like, hand holding and maybe a kiss at the end if you get the good ending." Jungwon set down his burger. "What are you talking about dude?"
"Don't fuck with me right now."
"I'm not fucking with you, I'm being completely serious." Jungwon was looking at him, shocked. "I didn't add any of that stuff. I wouldn't even know how to program half of what you just described. Like what the fuck is even a kink questionnaire?!"
Heeseung felt cold. "Then how did I experience it, man?!"
"I don't know!" Jungwon was still shocked. "But this actually makes sense now. Y/N's been avoiding me too this week, even more than you have. She won't answer my texts and she literally ran away from me in the hallway yesterday. I thought maybe she was mad at me about something but what if she experienced the same thing you did?"
"What do you mean?"
"Okay, last Friday, remember when you were studying in the library and Y/N left suddenly? I texted her right after she left asking if she wanted to try the updated version of the game and she texted back immediately saying yes and that she was coming to get it right then." Heeseung remembered that day, your phone had buzzed and you'd looked at it and your whole expression had changed, you'd packed up your stuff so fast, muttering something about being late for class even though Heeseung was pretty sure you didn't have class at that time. "She took the game and left," Jungwon continued. "I didn't hear from her after that until she texted me the next day saying she was returning it and that she didn't want to play anymore. And now she won't talk to me."
"What time did she take the game?" Heeseung asked, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.
"I don't know, maybe around four? Four thirty?" Jungwon paused. "Why?"
Heeseung felt like the world was tilting. "I picked up the game from you around four forty five. Remember?"
"Yeah, so?"
"So we both had the game that night. We both played it that same night." Heeseung's mind was racing, putting pieces together. "And you're saying there's no adult content programmed into the game. But we both experienced something intense enough that we're both avoiding you. And we both played it at the same time."
Jungwon's eyes widened. "Oh my god."
"What if—" Heeseung stopped, because what he was about to say sounded insane. But everything about this situation was insane. "What if the game connected us somehow? What if when we both played it at the same time and it put us in the same… I don't know, session?"
"That's not possible because I didn't program any multiplayer features."
"You also didn't program explicit content but I definitely experienced it, man!" Heeseung put his head in his hands. "Jungwon, the character in my game looked exactly like Y/N, exactly like her. And you said the character customization was random."
"It is random. I didn't—" Jungwon stopped. "Wait. She actually said something similar. When she gave the game back she mentioned that the boyfriend character looked really realistic, like someone she could actually know."
Heeseung felt like throwing up. "Did she say who?"
"No, she just said it freaked her out how real he seemed."
Heeseung was pale now. His brain was doing that thing where it tried to process too much information at once and ended up just kind of spinning in place. You had played the game, you had seen a character that probably looked like him. You had found it so realistic it freaked you out. And then you'd played it again last friday, the same day he did, probably around the same time. And Jungwon was sitting here swearing he hadn't programmed any of the content that Heeseung had definitely experienced. Which meant one of two things: either Jungwon was full of shit, which didn't make sense because why would he lie about this, or the game had somehow done something it wasn't supposed to do. Connected two players who didn't know they were playing together, made them interact without telling them, let them do things with each other while both of them thought they were just playing a single player game with really good immersion.
And if that was true, if you'd actually been playing together, then the character Heeseung had been with wasn't just some algorithm. It was you, making choices and responding to him. Doing all those things that he'd been replaying in his head all week. Which meant you'd been doing those things with him, or with a version of him, and you probably had no idea it was real either. So Heeseung stood up so fast his chair scraped against the floor. "What's Y/N's dorm?"
Jungwon blinked at him. "What?"
"Her dorm. Which building is she in?"
"Uh, west campus. Building C, I think? Room 304, why?"
"I gotta go." Heeseung was already grabbing his hoodie.
"Ho where? Heeseung, what—" but Heeseung was already walking, he heard Jungwon call after him something about texting him later but he wasn't really listening. His mind was too busy spiraling through everything he needed to say to you, everything he needed to ask, everything that didn't make sense.
The walk to west campus took fifteen minutes but it felt both longer and shorter than that. Heeseung's hands were shaking and he shoved them in his pockets. He tried to figure out what he was going to say. Hey, so I think we accidentally had virtual sex through a Nintendo Switch last week and neither of us knew it was real. Yeah, that would go over great. Or maybe, hi, remember how we both played that game? Turns out we were playing together. Surprise! Yeah, also worse.
By the time he got to building C, he still hadn't figured it out. Heeseung stood outside the door and realized he couldn't actually get in without a key card or someone letting him in. He was standing there trying to figure out his next move when the door opened and two girls walked out, laughing about something on one of their phones. Heeseung caught the door before it closed and slipped inside. Probably not his finest moment in terms of dorm security, but he was past caring about minor rule violations.
He stood in front of your door for a solid thirty seconds, hand raised to knock, unable to make himself actually do it. This was insane, he was insane. He should turn around and leave and text Jungwon and let Jungwon handle this because Jungwon had made the game and this was technically his responsibility. But he didn't leave, he knocked. And nothing happened for a long moment. Heeseung was starting to think maybe you weren't home, or maybe you were home but ignoring the door, when he heard movement from inside. Footsteps and then a pause. Then your voice, muffled through the door.
"Who is it?"
Heeseung's mouth was dry. "It's Heeseung."
Another pause, longer this time. He could picture you on the other side of the door, probably frozen, probably panicking, probably wondering why the hell he was at your dorm right now. Then the lock turned and you opened the door. You were pale, like actually pale, but you smiled anyway. "Hi Hee. Is… everything alright?"
Heeseung looked at you. You were in pajamas, soft looking sweatpants and an oversized hoodie with some faded band logo on it. Your hair was up in a bun that was more mess than anything else, strands falling out around your face, no makeup. You were standing there at your door at five pm on a friday looking comfortable and real and so pretty it made his chest hurt. He knew he was down bad already. Had been since the game, since the party, since the moment you'd turned around in that park with a flower behind your ear that he'd picked for you except it hadn't actually been you, or maybe it had been, he didn't even know anymore. But looking at you now, in your actual dorm with your actual face and your actual voice saying his name like that, soft and a little worried, he realized the game version hadn't even come close. This was better because this was real.
"Well, yeah, I mean, technically no," he said. Then stopped. "I mean yes. I mean, I need to ask you something and I don't want to sound crazy but I'm probably going to sound crazy anyway so I don't know how to do this without sounding crazy."
Your expression shifted. Something in your eyes changed, like you knew exactly what he was going to say but didn't want to believe it. You stepped back and pulled the door open wider. "Come in."
Heeseung walked into your dorm and tried not to look around but he couldn't help it. The space was small but you'd made it yours, there was a Janna poster on the wall near your desk, the star guardian skin, same one you had on your phone case. Next to it was a persona 5 royal poster that looked like it had been put up carefully. Your Switch was sitting on your desk next to your laptop, the joy cons that soft pink and blue that came with the Animal Crossing edition. Your bed was unmade, blankets pushed to one side like you'd gotten up in a hurry. There were books stacked on your nightstand, a pair of headphones tangled on top of them. A stuffed cat that looked old and well loved sitting on your pillow. It was so much like the apartment in the game that Heeseung felt dizzy. The colors, the vibe, the way things were organized. But also different and better because it was lived in and messy in ways the game couldn't replicate.
"Do you want water or something?" You were standing by your mini fridge, hand on the door, looking at him with that same careful expression.
And then Heeseung opened his mouth and everything just came out.
"Jungwon gave me this game to test Called Girlfriend simulator and I thought it was stupid, like, the most desperate thing I could possibly do, like an actual certificate that I'm way too single for a guy my age. But I played it anyway because I can't say no to Jungwon and also because I was curious and I went on this date with this girl and she liked League of Legends and I had to pick this flower that was glowing and she loved it, and this firefly landed on her hand and she smiled at me like and then we played league together and destroyed her ex boyfriends, and we cooked pasta and she helped me because I was burning the garlic and the game kept giving me dialogue options but then I started just talking and it kept responding like it knew what I was going to say. And then things got really intimate, like really intimate, in ways I'm not going to describe because I'll die of embarrassment but you can probably guess what I mean. And the girl, she... she looked exactly like you. Not kind of like you, exactly like you. same face, same voice, same everything. and i talked to jungwon today And he said there's no adult content in the game, that he never programmed any of that, and that you played it too, last friday on the same night I did. And I think we were playing together and I think we were in the same game, in the same session or server or whatever, and I think the characters we were playing with weren't just game characters and I think they were each other. So I need you to tell me right now, does the boyfriend character in your game look like me?"
You were staring at him. Your hand was still on the mini fridge door but you weren't moving. Your face had gone from pale to flushed and your mouth was slightly open like you wanted to say something but couldn't figure out what. Heeseung's heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat and his hands were shaking and he'd just word vomited the entire situation at you without taking a single breath but he couldn't take it back now. You closed the mini fridge. Didn't get water, just stood there looking at him like you were seeing him for the first time. Your eyes were moving across his face, his hair, his shoulders, like you were checking something or maybe confirming something.
"Yes," you said finally. Your voice came out rough, barely above a whisper.
The word hung in the air between you. Heeseung felt something in his chest crack open, something between relief and panic and a feeling he didn't have a name for.
"Yes he looks like you," you continued, louder now. "Exactly like you and I thought I was going crazy and I thought Jungwon had somehow used photos of you without telling me, or that I was seeing patterns that weren't there, or that I'd just completely lost my mind. But it was you."
Heeseung took a step closer without meaning to. "You played it last friday."
"Yes."
"Around six thirty."
"Yes."
"And things got—" he stopped, couldn't say it.
"Intense." You finished for him. Your face was completely red now.
"So it was real." Heeseung's voice sounded strange. "We were playing together. We were with each other and we didn't know it."
You were breathing faster now. He could see your chest rising and falling under your hoodie. "So when I— when we—"
"Yeah." The room got quiet after that. You looked at him and he looked back and there it was again, that pull from the game, except now there was no screen between you. Just him standing in your dorm with his messy hair and that hoodie you'd seen in the character creator, and you knowing exactly how his hands felt even though you'd never actually touched him before. Your breath caught. His did it too, you saw his chest hitch. Neither of you said anything, you both just moved, like someone had pressed play at the same time. He leaned in, you tilted up, and your mouths met in the middle.
You kissed at the same time.
His mind was racing: this is real, this is actually happening. No reset button, no save file, and he could not stop it even if he tried. Your lips were soft and moving against his in a way that made his hands come out of his pockets and find your waist, pulling you in a bit. You felt his fingers press into the fabric of your hoodie, and you responded by sliding your hands up to his shoulders, gripping the soft material there.
The kiss deepened, his tongue brushed yours lightly, exploratory, and you leaned into it, your back arching off the mini fridge as he stepped closer, bodies pressing together now. A small sound escaped you, not a moan exactly, but something involuntary, and Heeseung reacted by tilting his head more, his hand moving up your back under the hoodie, fingers splaying against your skin, warm and calloused a little. His hands shook a little on your hips, and thank god there were no pop up flashing with options like "kiss deeper" or "pull away," and no dialogue tree to pick from.
You broke for air just a second, foreheads touching, both of you breathing hard. "this is way better than the game," he muttered, voice low and rough, with a tiny grin pulling at his lips.
You huffed a laugh, your hands still on his shoulders. "Shut up."
You pulled him back in before he could say anything else. This kiss was different, harder, more sure. Your teeth caught his bottom lip and he made a noise he'd be embarrassed about later. His hand came up to your face, thumb against your cheek. Your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged and he pressed you back against the fridge hard enough that the door rattled. He kissed down your jaw, taking his time, and you tilted your head to give him room. Your breathing was coming in short bursts. He got to your neck and stayed there, face buried against your skin, breathing you in. You made a sound that kinda sounded like a purr and that did something in him. In his head, he was scrambling, piecing together bits from the game, like the survey thing, where things got rough, when he knew you liked it rough. But now? No way, he wanted this slow, careful, the way you deserved. He slowed his kisses on your neck, his thumb tracing small circles on your side under the hoodie. Don't rush, idiot, his brain nagged, you're not on a timer here.
He pulled back just a bit, forehead against yours, and said, "Sorry, this was kinda... out of nowhere."
You shook your head, still trying to catch your breath. "It wasn't."
He looked at your mouth, then back up to your eyes. "If this is weird for you though. With everything. I can stop."
"No." You said it fast, then quieter. "I want this."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." you paused, then added quieter, "I haven't stopped thinking about it. Or… you. I can't stop thinking about you."
His brain glitched hard at that. wWait, she what? Holy shit, okay, don't screw this up. And he leaned in again, kissing you deeper now, hands sliding up your back, pulling you flush against him. He nipped at your lip, testing, as things heated back up, his pulse loud in his ears. You pushed him back gently, hands on his chest, guiding him across the room step by step until his back hit the wall with a soft thud. The kiss turned messy then, tongues clashing, breaths mixing in quick gasps, neither of you holding back anymore. Your lips moved to his jaw, nipping lightly, then down to his neck, sucking at the skin there.
He let out an uncontrolled whine, his hands tightening on your hips. That sound made you bolder, so you slipped one hand under his hoodie, fingers tracing the warm skin of his stomach, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. You pulled back up to kiss him again, fast and urgent, teeth grazing his lip. He bent his knees a bit, hands sliding down to your thighs, and lifted you up in one smooth motion. Your legs wrapped around his torso automatically, and he spun you around, pressing your back against the wall now. No action option popped up in his head, no prompt telling him what to do next — he'd done it all on instinct, and that made a quick flash of pride hit him, like he was finally off script, just going with it.
Between kisses, you murmured against his mouth, "Hee, you feel so good."
"You too, god" he breathed back, voice rough. He pressed in closer, his body flush against yours, the bulge in his pants obvious now between your legs. You let out a quiet moan, your head tipping back against the wall. He kept you pinned there against the wall, his hips rolling slow against yours in a rhythm that matched your breaths, each grind pulling a small gasp from you. His hands slid up under your hoodie, fingers spreading wide over your ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of your bra as he kissed you deeper, tongue sweeping in like he couldn't get enough. You arched into his touch and nipped at his earlobe, then soothed it with your tongue. He shivered, a low groan escaping him, and you felt him harden more against you, the friction sending sparks up your spine.
He lowered you slowly to the floor, knees bending as he guided you toward the bed, never breaking the kiss. You tugged at his hoodie, pulling it over his head in one messy motion, his hair falling wild as it came off. His skin was warm, flushed, and you ran your hands over his chest, thumbs circling his nipples until they peaked under your touch. He laughed softly, a little breathless, as he peeled your hoodie off next, tossing it aside. His fingers traced the strap of your bra, slipping it down your shoulder before leaning in to kiss the exposed skin.
You pushed him back onto the bed, climbing onto his lap, your thighs straddling his as you ground down slowly, feeling his erection press right where you needed it. His hands gripped your hips, guiding the motion. As his fingers worked the clasp of your bra, letting it fall away, Heeseung's mind clicked into place: this was infinitely better than any simulator. In the game it was all presets, like surveys and options that guessed at what you liked, scripted responses that felt good but flat. Here, he could watch your reactions for real, feel the way your body tensed or relaxed under his hands, discover the spots that made you squirm without a pop up telling him what to do. No algorithms dictating the pace; just trial and error, his lips on your skin, learning from every shiver, every moan. Why settle for a program when he could map you out himself, piece by piece?
Things picked up then, his mouth closing over one of your nipples, tongue flicking slow at first, then sucking harder when you arched into it, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Hee, yes— like that," you breathed, grinding down firmer, the wet heat between your legs soaking through against his sweatpants. He switched sides, hand cupping the other breast, thumb rolling over the peak. He helped you take your sweatpants off, and then his free hand slipped between you, fingers pressing over your clit through your panties, rubbing in tight circles that had you moaning louder, hips bucking. You reached down, palming him through his pants, feeling the outline of his cock twitch under your hand. "You're so hard already," you said, squeezing gently, watching his face contort. He thrust up into your touch, a whine slipping out as he pulled you in for another kiss, messy and deep.
His fingers dipped under your waistband now, sliding through your slick folds, one dipping inside you slow, curling just right. "So wet, fuck," he whispered, adding another finger, pumping steadily as his thumb found your clit again. You rocked against his hand, breaths coming faster, and tugged at his sweatpants, freeing him enough to wrap your fingers around his length, stroking slow from base to tip, thumb swiping over the precum beading there. He bucked into your grip, groaning into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. "Keep going," he panted, fingers speeding up inside you, hitting that spot that made your toes curl.
You sped up your strokes, matching his rhythm, the slick sound of your hand on him mixing with the wet push of his fingers in you. He dropped his head to your shoulder, mouthing at your neck, teeth grazing skin as his free hand gripped your thigh hard enough to leave marks. You rolled your palm over the head on every upstroke, spreading the precum down his length, and he thrust into your fist harder, a low whine catching in his throat. His hips stuttered, thrusts into your hand getting erratic, and you felt him swell thicker against your palm. Suddenly he grabbed your wrist, stopping your movement, chest heaving. "I can't— fuck— I'll cum so fast like this."
"Yeah," you breathed, nodding quick, "Fuck, okay." He kissed you hard once more, then pulled his fingers out slow, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean while looking right at you. You bit your lip, heat rushing lower. You shifted back a bit, still catching your breath. "You got a condom?"
"Oh shit," he muttered, eyes widening. He reached down to his sweatpants, still tangled around one thigh from your handjob. And dug into the pocket, fumbling for his wallet. You leaned in, kissing along his neck slow, tongue flicking the spot that made him shiver earlier, just to keep him distracted. He huffed as he finally pulled out the foil packet. He glanced at it, then chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. In the game you didn't need this shit — couldn't exactly knock up pixel pussy.
He tore the packet open with his teeth, rolling it on quick but careful, hand stroking himself once to settle it. Then he nudged you back onto the bed, settling between your legs as you lay on your back. He kicked off the sweatpants fully, nearly tripping when they caught on his ankle, and you both grinned at the awkward shuffle. He hovered over you, one hand bracing by your head, the other guiding himself, tip brushing through your folds once, twice, coating in your wetness. "You okay?" he asked, voice low, eyes locked on yours.
"Yeah, fuck, please," you said, wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling him closer.
He pushed in slow, the head of his cock breaching you first, that initial stretch making him grit his teeth; tight, wet heat wrapping around him like a vice, slick from all the buildup, but still enough resistance that he had to ease forward inch by inch. His breath caught sharp in his throat, eyes squeezing shut for a second as the sensation hit him full force: warm walls fluttering around him, pulling him deeper, the condom dulling it just a bit but not enough to hide how perfectly you fit, how your body gave way but clung at the same time. He bottomed out with a low groan, hips flush against yours, and stayed there, pulsing inside you, the fullness making his thighs tense.
This was miles better than the game. In the sim, it was all smooth, predictable friction, coded to feel good but always a step removed, like jacking off to a video. Here, though, buried deep in you, he felt every twitch, every squeeze of your cunt around his cock, the real heat radiating through him, the way your wetness coated him completely, Making each tiny shift send sparks up his spine. It was messy and raw, just the obscene reality of how soaked you were, how his balls pressed between your thighs, heavy and tight, begging for more. He started moving then, slow pulls back and thrusts in, the wet slap of skin filling the room as he found a rhythm. You arched up to meet him, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red lines he could feel stinging already. "Fuck, you're taking me so well," he muttered, voice wrecked, as he snapped his hips harder once, watching your tits bounce with the impact. He leaned down, mouth latching onto your neck, sucking hard enough to bruise while he ground deep, cock dragging along your walls, hitting spots that made you clench tighter around him.
Your legs tightened around his waist, heels pressing into his back, urging him faster, and he obliged, thrusts turning rougher, the bed creaking under you both. He could hear the squelch each time he buried himself balls-deep, your pussy gripping him. "So fucking wet," he groaned against your skin, one hand sliding down to grab your ass, pulling you onto him harder. You moaned louder, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging as he pounded in, the angle shifting so his pubic bone ground against your clit with every thrust.
He flipped you over suddenly, hands on your hips yanking you up onto all fours, and slid back in from behind in one smooth push, deeper this way, his cock curving just right to make you gasp. He started railing you, skin slapping loud, his balls smacking against you with each brutal thrust. You pushed back against him, meeting every snap, your walls fluttering around him, milking him tighter. He reached around, fingers finding your clit, rubbing messy circles while he fucked you harder.
His mind flashed back to the game then, that kink survey popping up, how you'd picked options that leaned heavy into rough. He wondered if it carried over, if real you craved that edge too. Testing it, he drew back a hand and landed a smack on your ass, not too hard, just enough to sting and make the flesh jiggle under his palm. The sound cracked through the room, sharp over the wet slaps of his thrusts. You moaned low, pushing back harder against him, your pussy clenching tight around his cock like a reflex. That reaction lit him up — okay, she likes it — and he felt bolder, the dom side kicking in without overthinking. "Yeah, you take that so good," he groaned, rubbing the spot he smacked, soothing the heat before landing another, a bit firmer this time, watching your skin pink up.
He kept pounding in, deep and steady, the angle letting him hit that spot inside you that made your knees buckle a little. Reaching forward, he grabbed your wrists, pulling your arms back and pinning them at the small of your back with one hand, your chest dropping lower to the mattress. It arched your ass higher, letting him drive deeper, his free hand gripping your hip hard, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. The restraint made everything tighter, your walls hugging his cock obscenely, slick dripping down his balls with each thrust. "Fuck, I can't take it anymore," he panted, voice breaking as he felt you flutter around him, the build-up coiling tight in his gut.
"Hee—close, I'm so close," you gasped, face pressed into the sheets, hips grinding back desperate now. He picked up the pace, thrusts turning frantic, skin slapping louder, his balls tightening as he railed you harder. "Come on, let go for me, you feel so good clenching like that," he muttered, leaning over you, breath hot on your back. The friction built fast, your moans turning high and broken, and he felt you shatter first, your pussy spasming hard around his cock, milking him in waves, wetness gushing out and coating his thighs. That pushed him over, his hips stuttering as he buried deep one last time, groaning loud as he came, pulsing inside you, the condom catching every thick spurt while your bodies locked together, shaking through it.
You both stayed like that for a minute, chests heaving, sweat cooling on your skin, the room thick with the smell of sex. He was still buried inside you, pulsing faintly with aftershocks, but he didn't want it to end yet. Slowly, he eased out, the condom slick and heavy as he tied it off and dropped it on the floor beside the bed. His hands loosened on your wrists, letting your arms fall forward as you collapsed onto your stomach with a soft groan. He leaned down, lips brushing the small of your back, tasting the salt there, then lower, kissing along the curve where your spine dipped. His teeth grazed the swell of your ass, biting just hard enough to make you twitch, then soothing it with his tongue. You pushed back slightly, thighs parting on instinct, and he took the invitation— hands spreading you open as he dragged his tongue slow from your asshole down to your entrance, lapping up the mess you'd both made. The taste hit him full: tangy, musky, mixed with the latex from the condom and your arousal, thick and real coating his tongue. He groaned into you, diving deeper, tongue pushing inside your pussy, curling to scoop out more, nose buried against you as he ate you out sloppy from behind.
Your hips started rocking back, muffled moans into the pillow, fingers gripping the sheets. He kept going, alternating broad licks up your slit with flicks over your clit, then back to spearing his tongue inside, feeling your walls flutter again. His face was soaked now, chin dripping, lips swollen, as he sucked your clit into his mouth, humming low. You tensed hard, thighs shaking, and came again with a broken cry, pushing back against his face, wetness flooding his mouth as he licked you through it, not stopping until you sagged limp.
He pulled back finally, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand but mostly just smearing it, face shiny and wrecked. He flipped you over gentle, onto your back, and just looked; your cheeks flushed deep red, hair stuck to your forehead, neck and thighs dotted with fresh bruises from his mouth and grip, chest rising fast. You looked completely fucked out, eyes half lidded, lips bitten raw. His gaze dropped to himself: cock half hard again already, hanging heavy, the used condom on the floor bloated with his load, cum visible through the latex. This was nothing like the game. There, everything reset clean, no mess, no lingering taste on his tongue, no actual bruises blooming on skin. Here, he could smell you on his face, feel the ache in his jaw from eating you out, see the evidence of how hard he'd fucked you. Way better. Infinitely better.
He crawled up beside you, collapsing half on top, one leg tangled with yours, hand resting on your stomach as you both caught your breath again. The air was still thick, sheets twisted around your ankles, and Heeseung shifted a little closer, propping his head on one hand to look at you. He picked up your hand, fingers tracing over your knuckles before bringing them to his lips, kissing each one slow, like he was checking they were real. "Hey," he said soft, "was is... good for you?"
You glanced away for a second, cheeks heating up again, then nodded. "Yeah. Really good." Your voice came out quieter than you meant, thumb brushing his wrist. He smiled small, relieved, and pressed another kiss to your fingertips. You swallowed, still coming down, and mumbled, "want some water?"
"Yeah I'll get it," he said quick, already pushing up. He swung his legs off the bed and stood, then paused mid step, one hand going to his lower back with a quiet "Ow—shit." He stretched a bit, wincing. Last time he'd moved like that was... well, in the game and pixels don't pull muscles. He huffed a laugh at himself and shuffled over to the mini fridge, the floor cool under his feet.
He grabbed two bottles, cracked one open for you first, and came back, sitting on the edge of the bed close enough that his knee bumped yours. You sat up a little, taking the water, and he reached out, fingers threading through your messy hair, smoothing it back gently while you drank. His touch was light, almost absent minded, but steady. You lowered the bottle and just looked at him— hair sticking up, lips swollen, a faint red mark on his neck from earlier. You let out a soft laugh, nose scrunching. he raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Hi."
"Hi," you said back, still smiling.
He tilted his head, thumb brushing your cheek. "You need to pee."
You snorted, covering your face with one hand. "Yes, I know." He didn't even hesitate, just slid his arms under you, one behind your back, the other under your knees, and lifted you up like you weighed nothing. You yelped quietly, arms looping around his neck on reflex. "Hee—"
"I got you," he muttered, carrying you across the room to the bathroom door, stepping carefully around the clothes scattered on the floor. He set you down gentle inside, kissed your forehead quick, and pulled the door almost shut behind you. "Take your time." You heard him flop back onto the bed with a dramatic groan, probably rubbing his back again, and couldn't help smiling to yourself in the mirror.
When you came back, he was sitting on the edge of your bed, boxers pulled on, knees apart, elbows resting on his thighs. He looked up as the bathroom door opened and gave you this small, lopsided smile, half awkward, half couldn't-hide-it-if-he-tried glad. His hair was still a mess, sticking up where your fingers had been, and he rubbed the back of his neck like he didn't know where to put his hands now. You walked over and sat next to him, close enough that your thighs touched, the mattress dipping a little under both of you.
For a second neither of you said anything, just the quiet hum of the mini fridge and the faint rustle of sheets when you shifted. He glanced at you sideways. "So... that happened."
You huffed a small laugh, pulling your knees up. "Yeah. It did."
He was quiet for a moment. "Was it—" he stopped, started again. "I don't want you to think that's why I came here. Or that I expected—"
"I know."
"Because we don't really know each other. Like, actually know each other. And I don't want you to feel like this was too much or—"
"Don't we though?"
He looked at you. "What?"
"Know each other." You tucked your hair behind your ear. "I lived all of it with you. In the game."
"Yeah but that wasn't—"
"The date in the park," you said. "You picked that flower for me. The one that was glowing.” Heeseung was very still now, watching you. "And we played League together," you continued. "Destroyed my exes, even though they don't even exist in real life. Also, you were so smug about it, kept emoting after every kill, I thought you were so cute. And then we cooked pasta at my place and you almost burned the garlic and I had to help you and we ended up just—" you stopped, smiled a little. "It felt easy and natural like I'd known you forever. And the dates after that. Like the arcade, that hiking trail." You were looking at your hands now. "And then the park again at night. You told me you were falling for me. I remember it all too well. It was the most real thing that's ever happened to me." You finally looked at him. "And when I met you at the party and realized you were an actual person, I freaked out. Because how was I supposed to deal with the fact that I'd already fallen for you before we'd even met?"
"You—" his voice cracked slightly. "You fell for me?"
"Yeah." You said it simple, like it was obvious. "In the game. I didn't know it was you, but I felt everything. And then when Jungwon texted me about the update, I couldn't — I had to play it again. I had to see you again, even if it was just in the game. I thought it was just the game being really immersive and really realistic and I didn't think you were actually there."
Heeseung let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "I thought the same thing but I couldn't figure out what else it could be."
"And then we both avoided each other for a week." You laughed, dropping your head against his shoulder. "We're idiots."
"Complete idiots." He leaned his head against yours. "But like, in our defense, how were we supposed to know we were accidentally having virtual sex through a Nintendo Switch?"
You snorted, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Please never say that sentence again."
"Which part, the virtual sex or the Nintendo Switch?"
"Both. That whole thing."
He was grinning now. "But it happened."
"Ynfortunately yes."
"And it was—" he stopped.
"Really good," you finished.
He pulled back a little, just enough to look at you, his fingers sliding up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered, thumb brushing your cheek. "Yeah. It was. But this way is better." You smiled, he did too. But then he paused, and said quieter, "We don't have to figure it all out right now, you know. The whole... what this means. But," he swallowed, hand dropping to lace with yours on the sheet. "If you want to. If you're down... I'd really like to try this for real. Like, dates that don't require a Switch cartridge. Real hiking and a real arcade. And the boring real stuff too."
You turned your hand over, squeezing his fingers. "Boring real stuff sounds good."
"Yeah?" His smile went soft, relieved, and he shifted closer, knee bumping yours. His free hand came up to your waist, pulling you gently until you were half in his lap, legs tangled again. He kissed you slow then, nothing rushed, just lips moving soft, his hand splaying warm on your back. You kissed back, fingers threading through the hair at his nape, tugging lightly when he deepened it a bit. He pulled away just enough to breathe, lips still grazing yours. "This okay?"
"More than okay," you murmured, chasing his mouth for another quick kiss. He smiled into it, then another, hand sliding up your spine, thumb tracing lazy lines. You broke apart for air, but stayed close, foreheads together. "So," you said, poking his chest. "First real date. You picking or me?"
"I owe you that glowing flower," he said, fingers playing with your hair. "But like, from an actual field this time."
You laughed softly, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Deal. But you're still helping with the garlic."
He groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the pillow and pulling you with him so you landed half on his chest. "Fine. But no emoting when I burn it."
You settled there, ear over his heartbeat, his arms wrapping loose around you. "We'll see."
And you did see, because you saw him burn garlic three more times over the next month, and you emoted every single time, just to watch him get flustered and defensive about it. And the dates weren't like the game. There were no perfectly timed sunsets or fireflies that landed on cue.
Your first real date was at a diner near campus at two in the afternoon because that's when you both had free time between classes. He ordered pancakes and you stole half of them. The syrup was too sweet and the coffee was burnt and it was perfect anyway. You went to an arcade on a Tuesday night because you both thought it would be funny and all the good machines were broken. Heeseung spent twenty bucks trying to win you a stuffed cat from the claw machine and failed every time, just like the game. You ended up buying one from the prize counter with your own money and he carried it around for the rest of the night looking mildly offended. The hiking trail he took you on wasn't the picturesque mountain path from the game. It was a local trail that was mostly flat and next to a highway. You could hear cars the entire time. He tripped over a root and almost took you down with him. But he held your hand the whole way and pointed out a bird he thought was cool, and when you sat on a bench to rest, he kissed you and it tasted like the granola bars you'd been sharing.
You learned things about him that the game had never shown you. That he was grumpy in the mornings and needed at least ten minutes of silence before he could form coherent sentences. That he had a specific way of organizing his desk and got stressed when things were out of place. That he laughed at his own jokes before he finished telling them and it was the most endearing thing you'd ever seen. Meanwhile, he learned that you talked to yourself when you were concentrating, narrating your own thoughts out loud without realizing it. That you had strong opinions about which anime openings were skippable and which were sacred. That you stress baked at midnight and would show up at his dorm at one am with cookies that were still warm and slightly misshapen.
You played League together and he actually did run it down once and you flamed him for fifteen minutes straight. He took you to his favorite boba place and you hated the drink you ordered but drank it anyway because you didn't want to admit you'd made a mistake. He noticed and switched cups with you without saying anything.
And the domestic stuff was better than any game could've captured: grocery shopping together and arguing about which brand of ramen to buy; him falling asleep on your shoulder during study sessions in the library; you stealing his hoodies and him pretending to be annoyed but leaving them at your place on purpose. The way he'd text you random memes at three am just because he thought you'd find them funny. The way you'd save the last bite of your food for him without thinking about it. It was real and messy and nothing like the perfect dates the game had generated. It was so much better.
Three months in, Jungwon decided he wanted to do a pizza night at his place. Make-your-own-pizza, he'd said. It'll be fun, he'd said. He'd assigned everyone tasks and you and Heeseung got stuck with grocery shopping because apparently you were the only ones who could be trusted not to forget something important. Which is how you ended up in the pasta sauce aisle of the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon, having an increasingly heated debate about pizza sauce. "This one has basil already in it," Heeseung said, holding up a jar.
"But that one's too sweet. We need the plain one so we can add our own seasonings." You grabbed a different jar.
"Nobody's going to taste the difference."
"I'm going to taste the difference!"
"Yeah, that's because ou have the most specific opinions about things that don't matter."
"Excuse me, pizza sauce matters. This is important." He looked at you, standing there in your hoodie and jeans with your hair falling out of your bun, holding a jar of pasta sauce like it was a matter of life and death, and he felt something in his chest shift. You'd been arguing about groceries for ten minutes. Before that it had been flour — he'd grabbed all purpose and you'd insisted on bread flour even though Jungwon probably wouldn't care. You had strong opinions about olive oil brands. You'd spent five minutes reading the labels on different types of cheese. It was so mundane and domestic and real and he was so gone for you it was ridiculous.
Heeseung caught your wrist and pulled you back. You turned, surprised, the jar of sauce still in your hand. "What?" He just looked at you for a second. The fluorescent grocery store lighting was terrible and someone's kid was screaming two aisles over and the store radio was playing a compressed version of some pop song from five years ago. Nothing about this moment was romantic or special or anything like the game would've generated.
"You know," he said, "if this was a cooking game, you'd be picking all the wrong action options right now."
You laughed. "What?"
"The wrong sauce. Insisting on fresh garlic when the jarred stuff is right there. Making this way more complicated than it needs to be." He was smiling now, pulling you closer. "You'd be failing the efficiency route."
"Good thing this isn't a game then."
"Yeah." His other hand came up to your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Good thing." You were looking at him with this soft expression, waiting for whatever he was going to say, and Heeseung realized he'd been waiting for the perfect moment for weeks now. The right time, the right place, the right words. But standing in a grocery store on a random Saturday arguing about pizza sauce felt more right than any perfectly rendered sunset could've been. "I love you," he said.
You went very still. "What?"
"I love you." He said it again, steadier this time. "And I want to finally beat fuck ass Girlfriend Simulator. Make it official."
"Heeseung—"
"I want to complete the Girlfriend Simulator route," he continued, and he was grinning now because he could see you trying not to smile. "Get the good ending. Unlock the girlfriend achievement."
You laughed. "You're such a nerd."
"Yeah, I know. so?" He squeezed your hand. "Will you be my girlfriend? For real this time?"
You set the jar of sauce down on the nearest shelf, not even checking if it was the right spot, and kissed him. Right there in the middle of the grocery store with terrible lighting and screaming children and elevator music playing overhead. His arms came around you and you could feel him smiling against your mouth. When you pulled back, you were both grinning like idiots. "Yes," you said. "Obviously yes.”
And you kissed him. His arms came around you and you could feel him smiling against your mouth. You pulled back just a little, hands sliding up to rest on his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. The kiss turned slower then, softer, your lips brushing his again and again like you couldn't quite stop. He made this quiet hum, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, thumb stroking the skin there while the other stayed firm on your waist, keeping you close. Some lady pushed her cart past you both, wheels squeaking on the linoleum, but neither of you moved.
When you finally broke apart, foreheads still touching, you were both breathing a little harder. "I love you too," you said, voice low but steady. "Obviously. And I'm really glad I beat Boyfriend Simulator."
He laughed soft, nose bumping yours. "Wait." His face went serious all of a sudden, eyes narrowing. "That was the name of your game? Boyfriend Simulator?"
"Yeah." You bit your lip, trying not to grin too big. "Jungwon said it was different from Girlfriend Simulator because this one has a multiplayer option."
He shook his head slow, arms still around you, holding you there in the aisle like he wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon. You both just stood there, wrapped up in each other between the shelves of pasta sauce, carts rumbling by, some kid yelling about cereal in the distance. Heeseung stared at you, processing, then let out this quiet groan, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. "I'm going to kill Yang Jungwon."
You laughed into his hair, fingers threading through it at the nape of his neck. "Get in line."
[GAME COMPLETE] GOOD ENDING UNLOCKED: REAL LIFE ROUTE ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: GIRLFRIEND.EXE NEW GAME+ AVAILABLE: THE REST OF YOUR LIVES
dorms haunted and everybody shitting their pants💔🤣💯
pairing 7hypen x 8th member! reader warnings crack , foul language , romantic interests , dick mention , taunts , teasing , trolling ENHYPEN x 8th MEMBER TEXT SERIES 愛 MLIST
breaking my silence idgaf if enhypen and evan beefing anymore they look fine asf mad😍😍 ouushii...
#this is how I cope and move on #be ot7 be ot6 idgaf #yes enhypen is sixty #evan is seven #enhypen is nine because nishimu rariki and saranghae duh #jungwon angy🤤🤤 #I DONT EVEN GAF🤣🤣✌️✌️ #I'm over everything #peace
hearing jungwon say it himself idk if it even makes sense to remain ot7 anymore..idk I'm conflicted asf and I'm losing my mind af asf afafasf it's over
dorms haunted and everybody shitting their pants💔🤣💯
pairing 7hypen x 8th member! reader warnings crack , foul language , romantic interests , dick mention , taunts , teasing , trolling ENHYPEN x 8th MEMBER TEXT SERIES 愛 MLIST
warnings: mdni! sexual content, toxic jungwon, sexual tension, jealousy, risky sex, rough sex, dubcon, coercion, dirty talk, teasing, p in v, unprotected sex (do not do it), fingering, multiple orgasms, strong language, creampie, light choking, a bit of yearning, reader can’t do casual, emotional manipulation
wc: 27k
note: i want to write shorter fics but i'm such a yapper bruh. hope you enjoy reading this ! i´ll start writing part two of top two next hehe < 3
taglist (you can comment!): @kristynaaah @hooniella @gentlestpour @heelvcr @heesvnqie @kazehee
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪
the sound of his laughter was always just a little too quiet to hear from across the floor, but you always knew exactly when it happened. you could tell by the way the girls in marketing would suddenly lean over their desk dividers, or how the receptionist would find a reason to walk all the way to the printer on your side of the building just to catch his eye as he passed.
yang jungwon had a way of distributing himself so thinly that everyone felt like they had a piece of him, yet nobody actually held anything at all.
it was a strange kind of currency he traded in. he didn’t have the loud, exhausting arrogance of the men you usually avoided. he didn’t smirk, he didn’t linger a second too long in a way that would make anyone uncomfortable. he was just... soft. incredibly, terrifyingly attentive. he remembered how people took their tea, he noticed when someone looked a little tired, and he always had the right words to smooth over a mistake before the department head could even find out about it.
you had spent eight months watching the cycle repeat itself. a new girl would start in accounting or design, she would get overwhelmed by the workload, and jungwon would appear out of nowhere with a reassuring smile and a cup of coffee. and a few weeks later, she would be looking at him with that same dazed, mesmerized expression you saw on everyone else. he got his shifts covered, his spreadsheets double-checked, and an absolute shield of loyalty from the entire floor, all because he looked at people like they were the only thing that mattered in a room full of fluorescent lights.
you hated how clearly you saw the pattern. it made you feel detached, like a ghost lingering on the edges of a game everyone else was happily playing. loneliness did that to you — it made you hyper fixate on the details of other people’s lives because your own felt so hollow. and maybe, just maybe, it was also about the fact that you were the only person on this floor who he hadn't tried to use that gentle charm on yet. it felt spiteful, almost, like he knew you were watching and had decided you weren't worth the effort of the routine.
you bit the inside of your cheek, forcing your eyes back to your spreadsheet. do not look. do not care.
"you're going to get a headache if you keep staring at that screen without blinking, y/n." your pulse gave a stupid, frantic flutter before you could stop it. he was right there, his shadow leaning gently over the divider of your cubicle. he looked so terribly neat, the sleeves of his grey button down rolled up just to his forearms, his dark hair falling perfectly across his forehead. he didn’t look like someone who had just spent the last twenty minutes quietly convincing the senior supervisor to give him an extra week on his report. he just looked like a concerned coworker.
"i'm almost done." you whispered, your fingers staying frozen over the keyboard. you didn't want to look up. looking up meant acknowledging the way he was tilting his head, the way he was offering you that quiet, private space he seemed to create wherever he stood.
"you said that an hour ago when i walked past." he murmured, his voice slipping into that gentle register that always felt like a secret meant only for you. he set a small paper bag from the bakery downstairs on the edge of your desk, careful not to disturb your papers. "you skipped the team lunch. i brought you one of those lemon tarts you mentioned liking last month."
your heart ached a little, a sharp spike of anxiety hitting your chest. you hadn't even realized he had been listening when you said that to a completely different coworker in the breakroom weeks ago. that was his trick. he collected information like weights, saving them until he could wrap them up in sweet gestures, leaving you with no way to push him away without looking like the bad guy.
"jungwon, you shouldn't have." you said, trying to force your voice to sound flat, or at least indifferent. you finally met his eyes, searching for a slip, a hint of the calculation you knew was behind them. but there was nothing. just those wide, dark eyes looking at you with a steady warmth that made you feel completely exposed.
"i wanted to." he said simply, a tiny, almost imperceptible crinkle forming at the corners of his eyes. "you look tired, y/n. let me do something nice for you for once. okay?" the way he said for once, as if he had been waiting for the opportunity to care about you, made a bitter knot form in your throat. he was opening the door to the routine, and the worst part was how badly a small, pathetic part of you wanted to step inside.
you looked down at the brown paper bag, the grease from the pastry already leaving a translucent circle on the paper. it felt heavy, like an anchor pulling you straight into the deep end of his world. if you reached for your purse right now, if you pulled out a crisp bill and insisted on paying him back, you would look incredibly cold. you would be the girl who couldn't just accept a simple favor from a coworker who was only trying to be thoughtful.
but you needed a barrier. you needed to prove to yourself that you weren't like that girl from accounting, or the receptionists, or any of the other people who let his probably fake kindness soften their edges until there was nothing left to protect themselves with.
"how much was it?" you asked, your fingers gripping the edge of your desk a little tighter as you kept your voice low, trying to maintain the flat, corporate boundary between you. "i can venmo you. i also think i have some cash in my bag."
jungwon didn't move. he didn't blink, either. he just kept staring down at you, his thumb slowly brushing against the seam of his trouser pocket. for a second, just a tiny fraction of a second, the soft crinkle around his eyes vanished, replaced by an expression that was entirely unreadable. it was the closest you had ever seen his mask come to slipping, and it made your stomach do a small anxious flip.
but then, as quickly as it had gone, the sweetness returned. it bloomed across his face like it belonged there, gentle and effortless. "don't do that, y/n.” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, sounding almost disappointed. not angry, just gently hurt, like a friend whose genuine intentions had been misunderstood. he reached out, his fingers hovering just an inch above the paper bag, not quite touching it, but close enough that you could smell the faint scent of his laundry detergent mixed with the sweet scent of the lemon. "it's just a tart. you don't owe me anything for it."
you hated how good he was at this. he made your self-preservation look like paranoia. "i just don't like feeling like i owe people things." you whispered, finally looking away from his eyes because the intensity of his gaze was starting to make your chest feel tight. you focused on his collar instead, tracing the neat, sharp line of his grey button down. "especially at work."
"you don't owe me." he repeated softly. he leaned a little closer over the divider, his shadow completely enveloping your desk space now, cutting off the rest of the bustling floor. "i promise. consider it an apology for the project timeline being so messy this week. i know it's been stressful for you."
he hadn't even been the one who messed up the timeline, it had been the senior supervisor's fault. yet there he was, taking the blame, wrapping it up in a pastry, and handing it to you like a peace offering. it was perfect. it was entirely unassailable.
before you could think of another way to push him back, another way to say no without sounding entirely irrational, he was already straightening up. he patted the top of the cubicle divider twice, the dull thud of his palms against the fabric signaling the end of your private pocket of time.
"eat it before the sugar melts." he said, giving you one last, lingering smile that felt entirely too warm for a tuesday afternoon in a fluorescent lit office. "i'll see you in the meeting tomorrow, y/n."
you didn't answer. you just watched his back as he turned around and walked away, his stride easy and completely relaxed. and then, you watched the trap reset.
barely three steps away from your desk, he ran into the assistant manager. within two seconds, jungwon’s posture shifted, his head tilting in that familiar, attentive way as he listened to the older man complain about a client. he smiled, offered a reassuring nod, and effortlessly slid back into being the floor's favorite person. it was like his conversation with you hadn't even happened. it was just another stop on his daily rounds.
you sank back into your ergonomic chair, feeling smaller than you had five minutes ago. the paper bag sat on the edge of your desk, a tiny, sweet monument to your own weakness. you hadn't won. you hadn't even fought back.
when you finally decided to pack your bag, the fourteenth floor was entirely dead. the quiet was suffocating, broken only by the distant, rhythmic hum of the building's ventilation system. you had stayed late on purpose, hiding behind the excuse of a heavy workload just to avoid having to walk out the double doors at the same time as everyone else. you needed the air to clear.
you walked down the narrow carpeted hallway toward the back supply room to drop off a final stack of hard copy client files before heading to the elevators. the lights in the back corridor were completely out, the darkness only cut by the faint city lights bleeding through the floor to ceiling glass windows at the end of the hall.
as you neared the heavy wooden door of the archive room, you realized it wasn’t fully latched. a thin sliver of light was slicing across the dark carpet. and then, you heard a sound that made your entire body freeze in place.
it wasn't a murmur about spreadsheets or a polite laugh. it was a breathy gasp, followed by the distinct, unmistakable friction of fabric rubbing against a hard desk surface.
"jungwon, please-"
it was sarah from design. her voice was completely unrecognizable, stripped of her usual corporate composure, thick with an open, desperate kind of heat.
"shhh." a voice quieted her. low, raspy, and completely dripping with that gentle cadence. "someone might still be on the floor. stay quiet for me, yeah?"
your heart gave a violent, sickening lurch against your ribs, your fingers locking onto the edge of the file folders so hard the cardboard bent. you shouldn't have looked. every piece of self-preservation you had left was screaming at you to turn around, to run to the elevators and pretend you hadn't heard a thing. but you were paralyzed. your eyes moved to the small gap in the doorframe, your breath catching in your throat. through the crack, the scene was explicit, dark, and entirely heavy.
sarah was pushed back onto the edge of the heavy wooden archive table, her knee length pencil skirt hitched all the way up past her thighs, her fingers tangled frantically in the dark hair of the boy pressing between her legs. jungwon’s shirt was completely unbuttoned, hanging loosely off his shoulders, exposing the pale, sharp lines of his chest and back as he moved against her. he wasn't being rough. even like this, hidden in a dark room against company policy, his movements carried that same terrifyingly smooth rhythm. his head was buried in the crook of her neck, his lips leaving slow, wet tracks along her collarbone, his hands gripping her hips to anchor her as he drove into her with a quiet deliberation. every roll of his hips elicited a muffled, shaking groan from the girl beneath him, her eyes completely blown out, utterly ruined by him.
"you're so good." jungwon whispered against her skin, his voice hitching slightly as his pace quickened, his thumbs digging into her skin. it was said with that same comforting warmth he used when he was handing someone a pastry or fixing a computer screen. "so sweet for me, sarah."
seeing him use that exact same tone — the soft sweetness he used to navigate the bullpen — while his body was violently taking someone against an office desk made a cold wave of humiliation wash over you.
he really was doing it. all of it. he wasn't just collecting favors, he was consuming them. and less than four hours ago, he had leaned over your cubicle divider, looked into your eyes with that exact same soft warmth, and told you he wanted to do something nice for you for once.
you backed away from the door. you had thought you were being smart by observing him, thought you were immune because you saw the matrix of his charm. but the truth was, you were just another potential name on the rotation of favors he hadn't gotten around to breaking yet.
inside the room, the sudden, sharp rustle of your folders against your coat cut through the quiet. the rhythmic sound of his movements stopped instantly. through the gap, you saw jungwon’s head lift, his dark eyes instantly cutting through the dim light straight toward the door frame, his chest heaving as he stared directly at the shadow you were casting on the floor.
you didn't wait for him to pull away. you turned and ran toward the elevators, your chest heavy with an indescribable, uncomfortable feeling as the doors finally closed.
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪
the next morning, the fourteenth floor swallowed you whole, completely unchanged. the office was just its usual, sterile self. you sat at your desk, eyes fixed on your monitors, trying to drown out the intrusive images from the night before. because the worst part — the thing you refused to admit to yourself as you stared at your spreadsheets — was how it had actually looked. the sharp lines of his bare back, the tight grip of his hands on sarah's hips, the low, raspy weight of his voice... it had been explicit. it had been dangerous. and god help you, it had been the most terrifyingly attractive thing you had ever seen.
you bit the inside of your cheek until it tasted like iron. do not think about it. do not fall for it. you weren't going to be another project he managed. you weren't going to let a few seconds of office floor smut shake the armor you had spent months building. besides, you were certain he would never try to win your favor like that anyway — he clearly wasn't interested. you had never had those kinds of interactions with him, which only made the fact that you were fixating so hard on the memory feel even creepier. you were acting like a voyeur, replaying a performance that wasn't meant for you, all because the raw control he had displayed had been so violently hot, if you were honest. you needed to go back to your normal self and not think about him ever again.
the conference room smelled of stale catering coffee and the chemical tang of dry erase markers. everyone was crammed inside, reducing themselves to a neat row of titles and deliverables. sarah sat three chairs down from you, her posture slightly rigid, her eyes tracking jungwon’s every move with a quiet devotion. but she wasn't special. you watched how he shifted his attention effortlessly — offering a quick, easy laugh to one of the guys from logistics, leaning in to whisper a reassuring note to the senior supervisor, making sure that everyone felt chosen. he didn't look like a man who had spent the previous evening ruining a coworker against an archive table. he looked immaculate. when the supervisor praised the recent turnaround on the quarterly reports, jungwon offered a modest smile, deferring the credit entirely to the rest of the team. he was a calculated machine, running on the fuel of everyone's compliance, using his charm interchangeably to keep the floor running exactly how he wanted it to.
you kept your gaze firmly fixed on your ipad, drawing a series of neat, aggressive boxes in the margins. you were an observer. you just had to get through the remaining forty minutes of this meeting, go back to your cubicle, and bury yourself in data.
"y/n?" the supervisor’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.
you blinked, pulling your shoulders back into a sharp corporate posture. "yes?"
"jungwon mentioned that the client files from the fourteenth floor archives were still showing a few discrepancies. did you manage to drop off the hard copies last night?"
your breath caught in your throat. your fingers tightened around your pen so hard the plastic clicked. reluctantly, your eyes shifted across the table.
jungwon was looking right at you. he didn't have his usual soft, accommodating expression. he was leaning back in his chair, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a terrifyingly unblinking intensity. there was no warmth in them now. no sweet, harmless coworker charm.
it was a dare.
"i dropped them off." you said, your voice a fraction thinner than you wanted it to be. you forced yourself to maintain eye contact, refusing to let him see the frantic flutter of your pulse. "right before i left."
"perfect." jungwon said softly. he didn't break his gaze. his fingers stopped typing entirely, resting flat against the aluminum casing of his laptop. "i went back in there this morning to organize them. i noticed a few of the folders were a bit bent at the edges. like someone had been in a rush."
a suffocating wave of heat rushed up your neck. he knew. he knew exactly who had been standing outside that door.
"the archive room is quite dark at night." you countered, your voice dropping into a flat, icy register that stood out sharply against the casual tone of the room. "it's easy to lose your footing when you're looking for something in the dark."
for a fraction of a second, the corner of jungwon’s mouth twitched upward. it wasn't his public smile. it was sharp, dark, and entirely private, like a glimpse of the calculating mind behind the mask. he liked this. he seemed to have realized that while the rest of the floor was blind to his games, you were watching every single move. and instead of pulling back, instead of playing it safe, he looked entirely reenergized by it.
"you're right, y/n." he murmured, his voice dropping into that raspy cadence that made your skin prickle with a dangerous heat. "it is very dark back there. you really have to be careful what you stumble into." he laughed softly, slipping effortlessly back into his usual public persona. a few of your coworkers laughed along too, entirely unaware of the double meaning bleeding through his words. you felt like you were going insane, like one of those tragic characters in horror movies who are the only ones capable of seeing the ghosts.
the meeting adjourned, and the room dissolved into the usual chaos of scraping chairs and murmured small talk. you gathered your notebook and pen, eager to escape the stifling air, but a tall shadow stepped directly into your path before you could reach the door.
jungwon stood close, effectively blocking your exit. the faint, expensive scent of his cologne hit you instantly, dragging your mind violently back to the image of his bare back and the frantic grip of his hands in the dark. your chest heaved, a sharp spike of anger and unwanted arousal hitting you all at once.
"you didn't eat the tart, right?" he said. his voice was quiet, entirely obscured by the noise of the departing coworkers around you.
"i wasn't hungry." you replied, keeping your eyes trained on the top button of his shirt, refusing to look into his eyes. you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of a real reaction. he was just being fake nice, putting on the same calculated performance he used on everyone else to get his way. you were just a glitch in his perfect record of floor compliance, a loose thread he wanted to tuck back into his neat little tapestry because it bothered his meticulous nature that your edges wouldn't soften for him.
he leaned down slightly, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "a shame. i spent a lot of time thinking about what you liked before i bought it."
you bit the inside of your cheek, gripping your notebook like a shield. you didn't call him out, you didn't mention what you saw. you just forced a professional, detached distance between your bodies, holding onto the corporate wall with everything you had left.
"i have work to do, jungwon. i’ll excuse myself now, see you." you stepped sideways, brushing past his shoulder without looking back. but as you walked down the carpeted hallway, you could feel his eyes burning into your back, a silent promise that he was only just getting started.
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪
by thursday afternoon, the tension had settled into the very carpet of your floor, heavy and thick enough to make your lungs ache. you tried to perfect your routine. eyes on the monitor, fingers on the keys, headphones firmly over your ears even when there was no music playing. you were determined to be the ghost he couldn't touch.
but jungwon was a master of using the space around you against you. he spent twenty minutes at the shared printer island just three feet away from your cubicle opening. he wasn't alone. he was with elle from legal, helping her sort through a massive stack of compliance contracts. you could hear the low, smooth rumble of his voice filtering through your headset. you didn't look. you swore to yourself you wouldn't look. but then you heard that quiet, private laugh — the one that always made people lean over their desks. against your own damn will, your eyes flicked up.
jungwon was leaning over the printer, his grey button-down stretched tight across his shoulders. his hand was resting on the small of elle’s back, his thumb making slow, casual circles against the fabric of her blazer. it was a gesture so effortlessly intimate, so completely unnecessary for printing contracts, that a bitter spike of heat flared in your chest. elle was looking up at him with that exact ruined expression you had seen on sarah, on the receptionists, on everyone.
and then, without missing a beat in his conversation with her, jungwon’s dark eyes shifted. he looked directly over elle’s shoulder, straight into your cubicle, locking his gaze onto yours. his thumb didn't stop moving against her back. his face didn't change its pleasant expression. but his eyes were entirely dark, heavy with a silent, mocking challenge.
look how easy it is, you imagined him saying. look at what everyone else gives me without a fight.
he was doing it on purpose. he knew you were hyper-fixated on his patterns, he knew you had seen what happened in the archive room, and instead of hiding it, he was putting his transactional nature on full display right in front of your face. he wanted you to feel the weight of your own isolation. he wanted the jealousy and the confusion to twist inside you until you finally snapped and gave him the compliance he wanted. you ripped your eyes away, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. you hated him. you hated how he could make you feel so entirely exposed without even speaking to you. and worst of all, you hated the pathetic, traitorous part of your brain that had watched his hand on elle’s back and wondered, just for a terrifying second, what it would feel like if those fingers were digging into your own skin instead.
you swallowed hard, the taste of iron lingering on your tongue. he doesn't want you, you reminded yourself, a cruel, internal mantra. he's just fake nice. he just wants to win the game.
the shadow fell over your desk before you could even register the sound of his footsteps. "the legal files are sorted." jungwon murmured. he wasn't leaning over the divider this time, he was standing right at the entrance of your cubicle, effectively blocking the view of the rest of the floor. he set a single blue folder on the corner of your desk, his fingers lingering on the plastic tab. "i put the updated compliance guidelines on top. i thought you might need them for your afternoon report."
you didn't look at his face. you focused strictly on his hands, on the neat skin of his wrists. "thanks."
"you seem quiet today, y/n." he said softly, his voice dropping into that low register meant only for the two of you. he leaned in just a fraction, his shadow completely swallowing your desk space. "even more than usual. did you get another headache?"
the artificial sweetness in his tone felt like a physical weight pressing against your chest. he was mocking your boundaries, testing the exact strength of the walls you were sweating to keep up.
"i'm fine, jungwon." you whispered, your voice tight, keeping the corporate distance as rigid as humanly possible. "just busy."
"mmh." a small, completely unreadable sound left his throat. he reached out, his index finger lightly tracing a slow line along the edge of your desk calendar, stopping just a millimeter away from where your hand was resting. the proximity made the skin on your arms prickle with a terrifying heat. "well... don't work too hard. it would be a shame if you got tired out before the week is even over."
he gave the desk a final, quiet tap of his knuckles and walked away, leaving you drowning in the suffocating air of his departure.
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪
on friday evening, the office had emptied out with a desperate speed, everyone fleeing for the weekend the second the clock hit five. you had stayed behind on purpose again. it was safer this way. the quiet felt like a shield, a brief window where you didn't have to watch him hand out his attention like loose change to every person who crossed his path.
the only light left on was the dull, overhead glow of your own cubicle row, casting geometric shadows across the empty desks. you were just finishing up the last data entry for the week, the rhythmic click of your keyboard the only sound in the entire space. you let out a long breath, your shoulders finally dropping from the tight, defensive posture you had kept up for days.
then, the printer island three feet away whirred to life. the sudden, mechanical groan made your heart drop straight into your stomach. a single sheet of paper began to slide into the tray, the sound incredibly loud in the dead quiet of the office.
"i thought i saw a light still on down here." his voice came from the darkness just outside your cubicle opening. low, completely devoid of the light, airy cadence he used during the day. jungwon stepped into the glow of your monitor. he had already taken off his tie, the top two buttons of his grey shirt undone to reveal the sharp lines of his collarbone. his jacket was slung carelessly over one shoulder, held by a single finger. he looked messy in a way that felt entirely intentional, entirely dangerous.
you froze, your fingers hovering over the keys. do not look at his neck. do not think about the archive room. "i'm just finishing up." you said, your voice tight, forcing that rigid wall between you even though the floor was completely dead. "i'm leaving in five minutes."
"there's no rush." he murmured, stepping fully into your cubicle space. but he didn't stop at the edge this time. he walked right up to the side of your chair, dropping his jacket onto the empty desk divider next to you. "the building doesn't lock down until midnight, anyway."
you kept your eyes fixed on the screen, your heart hammering a stupid rhythm against your ribs. "i want to get home, though."
jungwon didn't answer. instead, he reached past your shoulder, his bare forearm brushing lightly against your sleeve as he picked up the single sheet of paper that had printed out. the brief friction of his skin against yours felt like an electric shock, making your breath hitch in your throat.
he leaned back against the edge of your desk, trapping you in your seat, his dark eyes looking down at the paper in his hands. "you made a mistake on the logistics section." he said softly.
"what?" your head snapped up before you could stop yourself, defense mechanism kicking in. "no, i didn't. i checked the numbers twice."
"look right here." he leaned down, his face suddenly entirely too close to yours. you could see the tiny flecks of dark brown in his eyes and the immaculate line of his jaw. he pointed his long finger at a row of data on your monitor, his hand hovering right next to your mouse. "you put the shipping code under the wrong department head."
you looked at the screen, your mind entirely blank, completely unable to process the numbers because his chest was practically brushing against your shoulder. "it's... it's a minor formatting issue. i can fix it on monday."
"why wait until monday?" jungwon whispered. his voice dropped into that private register that made your skin prickle. he didn't look at the screen anymore. he was looking directly at your mouth, his gaze heavy, dark, and completely unblinking. "i'm right here. let me help you with it."
he placed his hand directly over yours on the mouse. his palm was warm, his fingers large and heavy as they entirely covered your smaller ones. your pulse gave a sickening lurch. he wasn't being gentle. he wasn't doing that soft, attentive routine he did all the time. his grip was firm, holding your hand in place on the plastic casing, forcing you to feel the solid weight of him.
"jungwon." you breathed, a panicky sound escaping your throat. you tried to pull your hand back, but his fingers tightened just enough to keep you pinned.
"shhh." he murmured, using the exact same low tone he had used on sarah in the dark. "you're always trying to push me away, y/n. why is that? i'm just trying to be a good coworker."
the blatant lie made a suffocating knot form in your throat. he was mocking you. he knew you knew exactly what he was, and he was using his body to deliberately test how much you could take before your walls completely crumbled.
"let go of my hand." you whispered, your voice shaking, although you tried with everything you had to keep it cold.
jungwon didn't move. he leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your cheek, his eyes darkening into something ravenous as he watched the frantic pulse fluttering in your neck. "and if i don't?" he asked softly, a tiny, dangerous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "what are you going to do, y/n? call the supervisor? tell them i'm being too nice to you?"
you couldn't breathe. the sheer weight of him was entirely too much, trapping you between the hard edge of your desk and the solid heat of his chest. your fingers were frozen beneath his palm, your skin tingling everywhere it connected with his.
"i'll tell them exactly what you are." you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. your voice was entirely too thinned out by the frantic beating of your heart, but you kept your eyes fixed on his chin, refusing to look up into the dark trap of his gaze. "i'll tell them you're a fraud, jungwon."
for a long second, the quiet of the fourteenth floor felt absolute. the hum of the ventilation system seemed to fade into nothing. then, jungwon let out a low, breathy laugh. it wasn't his public laugh — the quiet, pleasant one that made people lean over their desk dividers. this one was dark, raspy, and too dangerous. his hand didn't leave yours. instead, his fingers shifted, sliding down the sides of your hand to lock his fingers securely through yours, pinning your palm flat against the desk surface now.
"a fraud." he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating straight through the small space between your faces. he leaned down further, his lips so close to the shell of your ear that you could feel the slight brush of his dark hair against your temple. "and who do you think is going to believe you, y/n? the supervisors? the girls in marketing? they love me. i make their lives so easy."
he was right. it was the most humiliating part of the whole thing. if you went to anyone, you would look like the unhinged one. you would be the bitter, detached girl who couldn't handle a popular coworker offering to help her with a formatting error.
"they think you're nice." you breathed, your teeth biting down on the inside of your cheek until it throbbed. "but you're just... you just use everyone."
you expected him to pull back, expected him to get angry or play dumb. but as you finally forced your eyes up to meet his, your breath caught. jungwon was staring down at you with a look that made your entire stomach dissolve into chaos. his face wasn't sweet at all anymore. his jaw was set, his dark eyes wide and completely unblinking, tracking the frantic movement of your lips. his chest was heaving slightly, the top buttons of his shirt pulling apart just enough for your eyes to instinctively look down for a second.
he didn't look insulted. he looked violently fascinated. "you really do see right through it, don't you?" he whispered, his thumb slowly tracing a firm line across the back of your knuckles. his grip on your hand tightened, a sudden show of strength that made your pulse give a silly flutter. "everyone on this floor is so boring, to be honest. they just take whatever i give them. but you... you sit here and watch me, and you hate me so much." he leaned in until his nose almost brushed against yours, his gaze dropping to your mouth again with a hunger that felt entirely too explicit for a fluorescent lit cubicle. "you think i'm just being fake nice to be convenient. but the truth is, y/n... i've been waiting for you to look at me like this for months."
he shifted his weight, his thigh pressing firmly against the side of your knee, anchoring you into the chair. the mask was entirely gone, shattered on the desk between you, and you were left staring at the raw, calculating control underneath. and to be honest with yourself, it was the most terrifyingly attractive thing you had ever felt.
"now…" jungwon whispered, his thumb digging slightly into your wrist, right over the frantic jumping of your pulse. "are you going to fix this spreadsheet for me, or are we going to do something else?"
you refused to let him win. you refused to soften a single fraction. "i'm fixing the spreadsheet." you whispered, your voice tight and entirely thinned out, but you forced your eyes back to the monitor, desperately trying to focus on the green lines of the cells. you tried to pull your fingers out from beneath his palm, but jungwon’s grip remained firm, his fingers locked securely through yours, pinning your hand against the mouse. a breathy hum left his throat, the vibration of it traveling straight from his chest into your shoulder where his body was pressed against yours.
"then do it." he murmured, his voice dropping into that private register that made the skin on your arms prickle with a dangerous heat. "go ahead, y/n. fix it."
your left hand trembled as you reached for the keyboard, your mind racing to remember the correct shipping codes through the suffocating fog of his proximity. he was making it entirely impossible on purpose. he leaned down further, his head tilting until his lips were just a fraction of an inch away from the sensitive skin below your ear, his warm breath fanning across your neck with every shallow exhale.
"you're entering the wrong code." he whispered against your skin, his thumb shifting to press a slow, deliberate circle right over the pulse in your wrist. "look at the screen. you're messing up the formatting again because you're too busy trying to pretend i'm not here."
"i'm not pretending anything." you breathed, your teeth biting down on the inside of your cheek until you felt a sharp sting. you deleted the typo, your fingers hitting the keys with a defensive force. you weren't going to look at his collarbone. you weren't going to turn your head and let his mouth catch yours. you kept your gaze locked onto the data, your entire body stiff as iron against the solid warmth of his chest.
you clicked the save icon, the sharp sound of the mouse loud in the dead quiet of the fourteenth floor. "it's done. the data is clean. now let go of my hand, jungwon."
jungwon didn't move. he stayed exactly where he was for a long, agonizing second, his dark eyes wide and unblinking as he tracked the tight line of your jaw. you hadn't leaned into him. you hadn't given him that ruined look he was so used to consuming from the rest of the floor.
and as you finally forced your head around to glare at him, refusing to back down, you saw the exact moment his expression shifted. the mocking smile completely vanished from his lips. his jaw tightened, his dark eyes clouding over with a ravenous frustration that made your stomach dissolve into absolute chaos. he looked entirely consumed by the fact that you were still fighting him, his chest heaving slightly as his grip on your laced fingers tightened until it hurt. you were willing to choke on your own pride before you ever gave him the compliance he wanted.
"you really aren't going to give in, are you?" he whispered, his raspy voice shaking just enough to let the dark intensity underneath slip through. he leaned in until his nose brushed against yours, his gaze dropping to your parted lips with an explicit hunger that made your knees go entirely weak in the chair. "you're going to sit here and look at me like you want to kill me, even when you're completely burning up underneath my hands."
"i told you, jungwon." you whispered back, your fingers tightening around his despite yourself, your armor cracking at the seams even as you held the wall up between you.
jungwon let out another ragged breath, his thumb digging hard into your wrist as a possessive heat bloomed across his beautiful face. "we have time anyway, y/n."
he slowly released his grip, his fingers sliding away from yours with agonizing slowness, leaving your skin tingling and entirely too cold in the sudden absence of his warmth. he picked up his jacket from the divider, throwing it back over his shoulder with that effortless fluidness. he didn't say another word. he just gave you one last, unblinking look — a silent promise wrapped in a calculated package — before turning on his heel and vanishing into the darkness of the elevator lobby. you sat there for a long time, the silence of the empty office pressing heavy against your ears.
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪
the weekend had been a blur of suffocating self-loathing. you had spent forty eight hours pacing your apartment, scrubbing at the wrist where his thumb had dug into your pulse, trying to wash away the phantom weight of his hand. you felt physically sickened by your own body’s betrayal. that silly, pathetic flutter your heart had given when he leaned in — it felt like a stain. you had always prided yourself on being the independent one, the girl who didn't get sucked into office politics or hollow, fleeting infatuations. you were supposed to be safe because you were invisible. but jungwon had stripped that safety away in a matter of minutes, leaving you raw, exposed, and terrified of your own hidden vulnerabilities.
you knew exactly what he was doing. you kept repeating it like a prayer to keep yourself sane: he doesn't want you. he doesn't want you. he was just a predator who hated that one specific prey wouldn't run into his trap. he was a perfectionist, and your coldness was an ugly smudge on his immaculate record of floor wide adoration.
by monday morning, the internal friction had left you entirely exhausted, the dark circles under your eyes barely hidden by makeup. the bright lights of the office hit your eyes like a physical blow. it was already buzzing with the usual post weekend energy, typing and mindless small talk filling the air. you kept your head down, your shoulders hunched as you walked to your cubicle, feeling incredibly small, like a soldier walking back into a minefield with a cardboard shield.
and then, you saw him. he was standing by the central filing cabinets, completely surrounded. he was wearing a crisp, dark navy shirt today, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal his pale forearms. he was currently leaning over to look at a folder held by jake from accounting, his hand resting heavily on his shoulder, squeezing it in a gesture that looked entirely supportive and friendly. but you watched the way jungwon’s eyes moved — sharp, analytical, tracking the supervisor who was walking past them. the second the supervisor glanced over, jungwon shifted his posture, offering a bright smile that made him look like the hardest working, most compliant employee on the entire payroll.
twenty minutes later, jungwon was at the reception desk. you watched, your heart hammering a painful rhythm against your ribs, as he leaned over the counter to speak to the new temp. his hand rested casually on the edge of her desk, his thumb making a slow, absentminded circle against the wood — the exact same gesture he had used on your knuckles friday night. the temp was completely flushed, her eyes wide as she nodded along to whatever he was whispering. you watched how he helped her carry a heavy box of promotional materials, his body intentionally brushing against hers as they walked through the narrow aisle. it made your stomach turn over in a violent wave of disgust and profound anxiety. he was doing it right in front of you. he didn't even care about hiding his promiscuity or his transactional nature anymore. in fact, it felt like he was putting on a performance specifically for your benefit. he was showing you how easily he could buy anyone on this floor, men and women alike, with a single smile or a well timed touch, using them up until they were empty and then moving on to the next.
you clutched your coffee mug so hard your knuckles turned white, a toxic mixture of anger and panic rising in your throat. you felt like you were suffocating under the weight of your own awareness. you were the only one who saw the rot beneath the golden boy facade, and the sheer isolation of that knowledge was driving you insane. you were terrified that if you kept watching the casual ease with which he dismantled people’s boundaries, the gravity of his control would eventually pull you under too.
"y/n." his voice came from directly behind your chair, low and entirely smooth. your entire body went rigid as iron and your breath trapped itself in your lungs. the sudden rush of adrenaline made your ears ring. jungwon stepped around the edge of your cubicle, holding a stack of laminated division charts. he didn't touch you, he didn't even lean over your desk. he stood just far away enough to keep up appearances for the rest of the floor, but his presence felt massive, completely blocking out the light.
he looked down at you, his dark eyes wide and entirely hollow of the warmth he had just been flashing at the marketing team. his face was a mask of perfect, professional indifference, but the sharp line of his jaw was tight. "the department head requested the updated logistics flow by noon." he said softly, his public voice neat and polite. but then, he paused, his gaze slowly dropping to your hands, watching the tiny, uncontrollable tremor in your fingers as you tried to set your coffee mug down. the corner of his mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly, with a quiet satisfaction.
he leaned in just an inch, his voice dropping into that private register that belonged only to the dark corners of the office. "did you have trouble sleeping over the weekend, y/n?"
the question was a psychological knife, twisting right into the center of your internal turmoil. he knew. he knew he had occupied your thoughts for forty eight hours. he was taunting you with the fact that even when he wasn't there, he was still successfully invading your space, still slowly breaking down your mental walls from the inside out.
you swallowed the bitter taste of panic, forcing your eyes up to meet his chin, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking into his eyes. you drew a sharp breath, pulling your corporate wall up with every ounce of strength you had left. "i'm fine, jungwon." you whispered, your voice thinned out but completely cold, completely detached. "the logistics flow will be in the system by eleven thirty. you can check it then."
jungwon stayed perfectly still for a second, his dark eyes burning into the side of your face, analyzing the rigid posture, the tight set of your mouth, the desperate pride you were clinging to. he didn't push, he didn't need to. he just tapped the laminated charts against the edge of your divider with a quiet, hollow click. "perfect." he murmured, his raspy tone thinning back into his polite, public persona. "i'll be looking forward to seeing your work."
as he turned and walked away, immediately falling into an easy conversation with a passing manager, you let out a trembling breath, your hands shaking so badly you had to press them flat against the desk to make them stop. you were safe for now, but the suffocating realization settled deep into your chest — the game was only getting heavier, and the cost of keeping your walls up was starting to tear you apart.
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪
by the time the mandatory department dinner rolled around on thursday night, the tension inside your chest had turned into a living, breathing thing.
the restaurant was loud, suffocatingly warm, and thick with the heavy scent of grilled pork and cheap soju. green bottles were already multiplying across the long wooden tables like a plague. everyone was shedding their corporate skin with a sloppy speed, the supervisors shouting over the sizzle of the meat, your colleagues giggling too loudly as they mixed beer and liquor.
you sat near the end of the table, actively trying to dissolve into the background. you were drinking faster than usual. it was a stupid, dangerous mistake, but the alcohol was the only thing capable of dulling the exhausting edge of your hyper-vigilance. you just wanted to numb the looping thoughts of him, but alcohol also made your walls sluggish. and across the grill, through the rising smoke and the chaotic haze of the room, yang jungwon was putting on a masterclass.
he looked disgusting in his perfection. he had stayed sober enough to maintain his position as the table's golden savior — expertly flipping the meat for the senior manager, laughing at the supervisor’s terrible jokes, pouring drinks with a practiced tilt of his wrist. he was the perfect employee, the perfect junior colleague, distributing his easy warmth so seamlessly that the entire top end of the table was practically vibrating under his influence.
but every time he leaned back to let a manager speak, his dark eyes would cut straight through the smoke, locking onto your face. his gaze was heavy, tracking the rhythmic movement of your glass as you emptied it again and again. there was no warmth in his face when he looked at you. just that quiet, analytical hunger.
"y/n, you're being way too quiet tonight." jay from project management slid into the empty space on your left. “seriously, you're always so locked away in your cubicle." he laughed, leaning in to bump his shoulder against yours. it was a clumsy, drunken gesture, but it felt normal. "you need to hang out with us more. let me pour you another one."
"maybe i should." you giggled, the sound light and loose even to your own ears. the alcohol made you sloppy, made you want to lean into the easy comfort of someone who didn't have a hidden agenda. you picked up your small glass and held it out with both hands, giving him a bright, genuine smile. "you're right. i work too hard."
jay beamed, his eyes crinkling as he filled your glass. he let his hand linger against yours for a second too long as he set the bottle down, his arm casually settling over the back of your wooden bench, his fingers lightly brushing the fabric of your blouse. you didn't pull away. instead, you tilted your head up, laughing at a stupid joke he made about the logistics manager, completely letting your guard drop. it felt intoxicating to be normal. to prove to yourself — and to the person sitting across the grill — that you weren't trapped in his little bubble.
but across the table, the atmosphere had silently shifted. jungwon was suddenly drinking too tonight. he wasn't perfectly sober anymore. his tie was long gone, the top three buttons of his navy shirt undone, and there was a faint flush spreading across his neck and the sharp lines of his collarbone.
it happened so fast you almost missed it. jungwon had been in the middle of nodding politely to a story the senior supervisor was telling. when you looked at him again, his entire posture was dead rigid. his jaw set so hard the muscle in his cheek twitched violently. for a terrifying second, the golden boy mask shattered completely, leaving a look of such icy malice on his face that your breath trapped itself in your throat.
he didn't make a scene. he was too smart for that. instead, he stood up smoothly, a polite, apologetic smile instantly snapping back onto his features as he addressed the supervisor. "i'll go grab a few more bottles of the premium plum wine from the front." jungwon murmured, his public voice light and accommodating. "the department head mentioned he wanted to try it."
you watched him walk away, your heart violently hammering against your ribs. you thought you were safe. you thought the distance would give you room to breathe.
but less than three minutes later, the chaotic seating arrangement of the table shifted as a group of managers left to use the restroom. when a space cleared out directly opposite you and jay, a shadow fell over the wood.
jungwon sat down. he placed three new bottles on the table with a quiet, hollow click. he didn't look at you. he focused entirely on jay, his face twisted into an expression of intense camaraderie that felt entirely too sharp to be real.
"jay." jungwon said, his voice smooth but dropping into a lower cadence that somehow cut through the noise of the restaurant. "you're taking care of our quietest team member? that's really responsible of you."
"jungwon! man, you're the best." jay cheered, completely oblivious to the danger sitting three feet away from him. he pulled his arm off your chair to reach for his glass. "i'm just telling y/n she needs to loosen up!"
"is that so?" jungwon murmured. he picked up a fresh bottle of soju, his long, pale fingers wrapping around the green glass with an unyielding grip. he leaned forward, his dark eyes locked onto jay’s face. "well, if you're going to keep her company, you have to keep up with her. let me pour you a proper drink."
what followed was a brutal, quiet execution. jungwon didn't let jay breathe. using his fake nice, attentive persona like a weapon, he continuously filled jay’s glass the exact second it touched the table, egging him on with soft compliments and subtle challenges that jay’s drunken pride couldn't refuse. jungwon was pouring double shots, mixing combinations, acting like the ultimate hype man while remaining entirely sober himself.
it was horrifyingly calculated. jungwon was weaponizing the floor compliance against jay, using his popularity to entirely dismantle the guy right in front of your face. and he was doing it with a terrifying, quiet ferocity.
within twenty minutes, jay’s head dropped heavily onto his folded arms on the table, his eyes rolling shut as he muttered an incoherent string of nonsense before completely passing out cold.
the noise of the restaurant seemed to swell around your ears, the shouting and laughter of the remaining coworkers forming a thick barrier of isolation around your corner of the table. jay was asleep on your left. the manager on your right was entirely engrossed in a loud argument about quarterly logistics.
you were left completely alone with him.
jungwon slowly set his empty glass down. the bright, helpful coworker expression vanished from his face like smoke, leaving his features cold, sharp, and ravenous. he leaned forward across the low wooden table, his chest almost touching the edge, his dark eyes wide as they pinned you to your seat.
"he touches everyone, you know?" jungwon whispered, his voice dropping into that raspy, private register that made your skin prickle. "jay. he does it in the hallways too. he's very careless with his hands."
you clutched your small soju glass, your fingers shaking so badly the clear liquid sloshed over the rim. the alcohol in your system was making your head spin, making your internal turmoil twist into something heavy and desperate. "he was just... he was just being friendly. unlike you."
jungwon let out a low laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "friendly."
before you could register his movement, his leg shifted beneath the low table. his thigh pressed firmly, violently against your knee, locking your legs together under the shadow of the thick tablecloth. the sudden heat of his body against yours sent a violent jolt of adrenaline straight down your spine. you tried to pull back, but he angled his leg, anchoring you into the wooden bench so tightly you couldn't move an inch without drawing the attention of the entire table.
"you let him touch your shoulder." jungwon murmured, his gaze dropping to your mouth, his jaw setting as his voice became thick with a suffocating jealousy. he reached his hand under the table, his long fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist, his thumb digging hard into the soft skin right over your jumping pulse. "you sat here and let a sloppy, useless drunk put his hands on you. but when i touch you, y/n... you look like you're about to lose your mind."
"let go." you breathed, a panicky whisper that was completely swallowed by the roar of the restaurant. your teeth bit into your lip, your eyes darting to the supervisor just three seats away, terrified of a scene, terrified of what would happen if anyone looked down. "jungwon, stop. someone will see."
"let them look." he whispered back, his grip on your wrist tightening until it was almost a bruise, his thumb rubbing a slow circle against your skin. his face was inches from yours now, his breath warm, smelling faintly of the plum wine. "they won't see anything. they only see what i want them to see. you know that better than anyone, y/n."
he leaned in just a fraction further, his eyes tracking the chaotic, terrified rise and fall of your chest. he was entirely consumed by his own control, entirely irritated that someone else had crossed the boundary he had marked for himself.
"i told you on friday night, y/n." he murmured, his raspy voice vibrating straight through your bones as his leg pressed harder against your knee. "we have time."
the words hung in the space between your faces, heavy with the sweet, stinging scent of plum wine and the absolute certainty of his control. your mind was screaming at you to pull away, to make a scene, to slap his hand away from your wrist. but the alcohol had turned your blood to lead, making your body feel too heavy, too responsive to the solid pressure of his thigh against your knee. you were trapped between the suffocating heat of his gaze and the hidden reality of his hands beneath the table.
"hey, jungwon! y/n! what are you two whispering about over there?" the sudden voice of the senior manager cut through the noise of the restaurant like a blunt axe. the spell didn't just break, it evaporated. before your heart could even finish its next frantic thud, the shift in jungwon was instantaneous. his fingers slid off your wrist with a terrifyingly casual slowness, his leg smoothly retracting from yours under the cover of the tablecloth. by the time you managed to look up, blinking past the dizzying fog of the soju, jungwon was already leaning back in his seat. his face had instantly transformed back into the picture of polite, boyish innocence — the dark hunger wiped clean from his eyes as if it had never been there at all.
"just making sure y/n is doing okay, sir." jungwon said, his public voice smooth, light, and perfectly pitched to carry over the chatter. he offered the manager a dimpled smile. "i think the logistics data has her a bit worn out this week. i was just offering to take over her morning reports tomorrow so she can catch her breath."
"ah, look at our jungwon! always taking care of the team." the manager cheered, raising his glass in a sloppy toast. "a true asset to the department!"
you sat there, your hand still trembling against the cold wood where his fingers had just been pinned. the unadulterated fraudulence of it made you feel physically sick. he had just systematically dismantled jay, pinned you to your seat with a terrifying display of drunken jealousy, and threatened you into absolute silence. and within three seconds, he had the entire top end of the table practically singing his praises.
to your delight, the dinner dissolved into the chaotic logistics of departure shortly after. managers were pouring into taxis, people were laughing loudly on the sidewalk, and jay was being thrown into the back of a coworker's car, still completely dead to the world.
you stood on the pavement, the cool night air hitting your flushed skin, making the alcohol hit your head in a dizzying wave. you felt completely hollowed out, your internal walls not just cracked, but entirely reduced to ash.
you're going to sit here and look at me like you want to kill me, even when you're completely burning up underneath my hands.
his words from the cubicle, mixed with the phantom weight of his hand on your knee tonight, looped through your mind like a toxic rhythm. the worst part — the absolute most humiliating, terrifying part of the entire night — was the realization that you had burned. when his hand had tightened on your wrist, when his thigh had locked yours into the bench, a hidden part of your chest had given a shameful lurch. you hated his fake nice routines, you hated how he ruined people for his own convenience, but the raw, unfiltered gravity of his attention when the mask came off was becoming completely addictive.
you were terrified of him. but you were starting to be much more terrified of yourself.
"your taxi is here, y/n." his voice came from the shadow right beside you. jungwon had his hands slid casually into his slacks pockets, his jacket slung over his shoulder. he stepped forward, opening the door of the yellow cab for you with the textbook gallantry of a good coworker. but as you moved past him, your shoulder brushing against his chest, he didn't back up. he stayed entirely too close, his eyes locking onto yours in the dim light of the street.
"get some rest tonight." he murmured, his raspy voice dropping low enough that the driver couldn't hear. his thumb slowly traced a firm line across the leather of the car door, right next to your hip. "i'll see you in the office early tomorrow. don't be late."
you slid into the backseat without a word, your fingers curling tightly into your palms as the door clicked shut between you. as the taxi pulled away into the traffic, you looked back through the rear window. jungwon was still standing on the curb, completely alone in the yellow glow of the streetlamp, watching your car disappear with a look of absolute, calculating patience.
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪
the hangover wasn’t just a physical ache, it was a psychological weight that made the 6:45 am sunlight feel like an interrogation. you had deliberately arrived a full hour before the rest of the department, desperate to find a moment of absolute isolation to gather the shattered pieces of your composure. the office floor was an eerie ghost town of dark computer screens and silent corridors. the only sound was the mechanical hum of the industrial printer in the copy room at the far end of the hall. you stood in front of it, watching the updated logistics charts slide smoothly into the tray, one by one.
eleven thirty? no. you were going to leave it on his desk before the clock even struck eight. you needed to reclaim some semblance of control.
the heavy glass door of the copy room clicked, making your heart skip a painful beat. you didn’t turn around immediately, your eyes freezing on the shifting reflection in the dark glass window of the courtyard outside.
jungwon stepped into the room. he didn't rush toward you. he closed the door with a slow, deliberate click, his dark eyes instantly locking onto the back of your neck. he had already shed his suit jacket, his white dress shirt crisp and immaculate, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms with casual neatness. he looked entirely rested, completely untouched by the poison of the night before.
"you're early." he murmured. his voice was already in that register. there was no marketing team here. no senior managers. just the heavy thrum of the printer and the suffocating gravity of his presence.
"i told you it would be ready." you said, your voice tighter than you intended. you reached out to grab the stack of papers from the tray, keeping your back turned to him, desperately using the documents as a shield.
you heard the slow, measured sound of his dress shoes against the linoleum. he stopped just a step behind you. he didn't touch you yet. instead, he leaned forward slightly, his shadow completely engulfing yours as he looked over your shoulder at the printer tray. the heat radiating from his chest was immense, close enough that you could feel the faint movement of his shirt fabric against your back every time he took a breath.
"the logistics flow." jungwon mused softly, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin behind your ear, making the tiny hairs on your arms stand up. "always so efficient, y/n. always running away into your work the moment things get too heavy."
you swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the edge of the paper tray until your knuckles turned white. "i'm just doing my job. you can take the files and go."
"is that what you want?" he asked. the question was low, quiet, and laced with a terrifying patience. he reached out, his long fingers slowly sliding into the tray right next to yours. he didn't grab the papers. instead, the side of his index finger brushed against yours, a light, almost imperceptible contact that sent an electric jolt straight down your spine.
you flinched, trying to pull your hand back, but jungwon was faster. his hand turned, his fingers trapping your wrist against the plastic edge of the tray. he didn't squeeze. he just held you there with the weight of his palm, his thumb resting directly over your pulse point, feeling the erratic thudding of your heart.
"you're still shaking." he whispered, his tone dropping into something dark and dangerously satisfied. "just like last night. did you think the morning air would make you forget how it felt?"
you refused to turn around, keeping your face fixed on the blinking light of the copy machine, but your breathing was already turning shallow. "jungwon, stop. someone will come in. the cleaning staff-"
"the cleaning staff finished thirty minutes ago." he interrupted smoothly, his voice a calm barrier that shut out the rest of the world. he took a half step closer, his chest fully pressing into your back now, the solid weight of his body anchoring you against the counter. "we have time. i told you that, didn't i?"
he slowly let go of your wrist, but before you could draw a breath of relief, his hand moved up to your shoulder. his long fingers settled over the fabric of your blouse, his thumb tracing the exact spot where jay's hand had lingered the night before. the pressure was firm, heavy, and intensely possessive, as if he were systematically erasing anyone else's touch from your skin.
"tell me, y/n." jungwon murmured, his jaw brushing against the side of your hair as he leaned in, his voice a raspy vibration that rattled through your bones. "when you were sitting across from me last night, letting him lean into your space... were you thinking about how much harder i would touch you when we were alone?"
the question hung in the warm, enclosed air of the copy room, heavy and explicit. your heart hitched, a fractured sound escaping your throat before you could stop it. you squeezed your eyes shut, hating how instantly your body reacted to the proximity, hating the dizzying rush of heat that flooded your veins despite the icy hangover. "i wasn't thinking about you." you lied, the whisper thin and trembling against the steady hum of the printer.
jungwon let out a low hum against your neck. it wasn't a laugh, it was a sound of pure, clinical amusement. he didn't call you a liar, he didn't need to. instead, his hand slid slowly down from your shoulder, his palm tracing the rigid line of your spine through the fabric of your blazer. the movement was agonizingly gradual, every millimeter of his touch deliberate, testing your resistance, feeling the way your muscles locked tight under his hands.
when his palm reached the small of your back, he paused. he leaned his weight into you just a fraction more, the solid plane of his chest flattening completely against your shoulder blades. the sheer heat of him seemed to melt straight through your corporate layers. "you're so tense." he whispered, his lips brushing the sensitive skin right below your earlobe. you shivered violently, your hands blindly gripping the edge of the printer counter behind you. "relax for me, y/n. we aren't at the table anymore. there's no senior manager to save you this time."
his other hand came up, his long fingers sliding under your chin. he didn't force you to turn around yet. he just tilted your head back slightly, exposing the vulnerable line of your throat. his thumb stroked the soft skin right over your jumping pulse, his touch agonizingly light, a stark contrast to the crushing weight of his body pressing you into the counter. "look at the glass." he murmured softly, a quiet command.
your eyes automatically opened, flickering to the dark reflection in the courtyard window directly ahead. through the dim glass, you could see the two of you — completely tangled together in the shadow of the industrial machine. your head was tilted back against his shoulder, your face flushed and eyes wide with a desperate panic. jungwon was looking at your reflection, his dark eyes hollowed of all his polite warmth, filled instead with that sharp satisfaction. he looked entirely in control. he looked like he owned the very air you were breathing.
"see that?" jungwon whispered, his thumb moving up to trace the trembling outline of your lower lip. "this is exactly how you looked in my head all weekend. desperate. trapped. completely at my mercy." he slowly turned your face toward him, forcing you to break eye contact with the reflection and look directly at his actual features. up close, the golden boy mask was entirely gone. his jaw was set, a heavy intensity clouding his eyes as his gaze dropped to your mouth. he didn't kiss you. he just hovered there, his breath hot and shallow against your lips, letting the tension build until it felt like a physical wire snapping between you.
"jungwon." you breathed, your voice a desperate plea, though even you didn't know if you were begging him to stop or begging him to finally end the torture.
"i'm listening." he murmured, his raspy voice dropping into an even lower register as his hand slid from your chin down to the collar of your blouse, his fingers lightly brushing the exposed skin of your collarbone. "tell me what you want, y/n. tell me to stop. let me hear you say it."
“c-can’t.” you said between pants, feeling too overwhelmed by his presence to remember how to breathe properly.
“you can’t or you won’t? come on, we both know you can. this is a safe space, y/n.” jungwon spoke in a mocking tone, his fingers trailing lower until they hooked into the top edge of your camisole, pulling the silk taut against your skin. “it’s just you and me. no one is going to walk through that door and catch you admitting it.”
the condescending arrogance in his voice hit you like a bucket of ice water. he wasn't just trying to touch you, he was trying to break you. he wanted the satisfaction of hearing you completely dismantle your own walls for his ego.
you swallowed down the panic, forcing your hands flat against his chest. you didn't lean into him. instead, you locked your elbows, pushing back against the solid weight of his frame with every ounce of strength you had left. "i can't because it's pathetic." you said, your voice cracking slightly but carrying a sudden coldness. you forced your eyes up to meet his, refusing to let him see you blink. "you're pathetic, jungwon."
the mocking smile vanished from his face instantly. his dark eyes went wide, then narrowed into two dangerous, icy slits. the absolute stillness that came over him was terrifying. "what did you say?" he murmured, his voice dropping so low it was almost entirely swallowed by the hum of the printer.
"y-you heard me." you breathed, your chest heaving against his palms, your fingers curling into the crisp cotton of his shirt as you fought to keep the distance between your faces. "you spend all week playing the perfect, golden boy coworker, but you're so deeply insecure that the second someone else touches my shoulder, you have to lock me in a room just to force yourself into my head. you didn't lock this door because you're in control. you locked it because you're terrified i'll walk right past your cubicle and not play your little game."
the silence that followed was suffocating. the air in the copy room turned completely hostile. you could feel the violent thudding of his heart beneath your palms — rapid, uneven, and entirely unmasked. you had ripped the skin right off his pride, and for a split second, you saw a flash of genuine fury in his eyes.
his hand at your collar didn't loosen. it tightened, his knuckles digging hard against your collarbone as he slammed his other hand flat on the counter directly over your papers, the heavy bang echoing off the concrete walls. he leaned his entire weight forward, completely crushing your attempt to hold him back, his chest pinning your hands right against his own sternum.
"you think you know me?" jungwon rasped, his face inches from yours, his breath ragged and hot against your mouth. the polite cadence of his voice was completely gone, replaced by a gravelly edge that made your spine freeze. "you think i'm doing this because i'm insecure?"
"let go of me." you demanded, your voice rising, your thighs straining against the solid line of his legs as he anchored you into the machine. you twisted your wrist, trying to tear yourself out of his space, but he didn't give you a single inch of air.
"i told you to say the word 'stop', y/n." he whispered, his jaw setting so hard the muscle in his cheek violently pulsed. his lips brushed against yours with a bruising friction as he spoke, his grip on your waist beneath your shirt turning tight enough to leave marks. "but you didn't say it. you used your mouth to bite at me instead, because you know exactly what happens to those neat little walls of yours the second you actually let me touch you."
your breath caught, the bruising friction of his lips leaving a stinging, electric heat behind. you wanted to spit another insult directly into his face, wanted to tear at the pristine cotton of his shirt just to force his heavy frame off yours, but the sheer physical mass of him was completely overwhelming. he was breathing heavily, his chest expanding and compressing violently against your pinned hands, forcing you to feel every single furious heartbeat.
"i don't want you touching me." you choked out, your voice dropping to a whisper as you tried to wrench your waist out of his grip. you twisted your hips, a sharp effort to break his hold, but his fingers only dug deeper into your skin. his palm slid completely beneath the hem of your shirt, his bare, burning skin making direct contact with the small of your back. the unmediated warmth made you flinch, your spine arching instinctively into his touch even as your mind screamed at you to pull away. he anchored you so firmly against the metal counter that you could feel the hard line of his thigh locking your knees together.
jungwon let out a low, rough sound from the back of his throat. the territorial anger in his eyes didn't vanish, but it shifted, darkening until his pupils practically swallowed the brown of his irises. he liked the fight. he liked that you were clawing for control, because it meant you were entirely consumed by him. "then tell me to stop." he murmured, his voice dropping into that breathless cadence that sent a terrifying ache straight down your lower stomach. he leaned his head down, his lips dragging slowly along the tense line of your jaw, down to the sensitive skin right beneath your ear. "say the word, y/n. tell me you hate this. tell me you want me to let go and go back to my desk."
you bit your lip so hard the iron taste of copper flared on your tongue again. you couldn't say it. the word was physically stuck in your throat, choking you, because deep beneath the suffocating layers of your panic and your rage, the leaden weight in your veins was turning into a pulsing heat. the absolute restriction of your corporate clothes — the tight pencil skirt restricting your movement, the stiff fabric of your blouse pinned against his chest — only made the raw reality of his bare hand on your waist feel a thousand times more scandalous.
"see?" jungwon whispered, his hot breath blooming against your skin as his teeth agonizingly grazed the soft lobe of your ear.
a violent shudder racked your entire frame, and he caught it instantly. his grip on your hip shifted, his palm sliding slowly up the curve of your ribcage, his thumb tracing the spaces between your ribs with a slow pressure that made your breathing fail completely.
"your mouth says one thing," he rasped, his nose dragging across your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look at you. "but your body is begging me not to listen to you."
"i'm not... begging you for anything." you gasped out, your hands finally curling into his shirt, using the grip to try and violently shove him back. when he didn't budge, you tried to bring your knee up, a clumsy attempt to force some space between your lower bodies.
jungwon anticipated it instantly. he shifted his weight, his heavy thigh sliding higher, crowding directly between yours under the cover of your skirt and pinning your legs completely against the lower panel of the printer. the sudden, deep pressure of his leg against the most sensitive part of you sent a violent shockwave straight up your spine.
your eyes flew open, a broken gasp tearing from your throat before you could stop it, your fingers tightening into the cotton of his shirt so hard the seams strained.
jungwon froze. his dark eyes snapped back up to yours, wide and completely wild, his own breath hitching loudly in the quiet room. the mocking arrogance was entirely dead, replaced by a raw, desperate hunger that made his features look sharper, darker, and completely undone. he looked down at your parted lips, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle violently throbbed.
"y/n." he rasped, his voice breaking on your name, the sound so private and broken it made your chest ache. his hand on your ribs slid higher, his thumb lightly brushing the underside of your breast through the silk, his touch no longer calculated, but shaking with the exact same tremor he had mocked you for just minutes ago. "look what you do to me. look at what you're making me do."
your eyes past his shoulder, completely freezing on the frosted glass pane of the door. the sheer terror of a shadow appearing out there made your entire chest lock up, your lungs refusing to expand. "jungwon, the elevator." you breathed, the words a frantic stutter against his chin. "i-i heard the chime. early shifts start at seven. someone is on the floor. let go, please, someone is going to-"
he didn’t even flinch at the mention of the corridor outside. if anything, the risk only seemed to strip away the very last of his restraint. his hand beneath your shirt slid lower, his long fingers hooking directly into the waistband of your skirt. with a slow pressure, his palm slipped completely underneath the fabric, his bare skin making direct contact with the sensitive curve of your hip. you let out a strangled gasp at the sudden touch, the sound instantly muffled as he crowded his chest harder against yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "let them walk in." he whispered, his voice a dark vibration that rolled straight through your skin.
his lips dragged heavily along your throat, sucking lightly at the soft skin right over your pulse point until you shivered so violently your fingers lost their grip on his shirt. your knees completely gave out, your lower body turning to lead. but you didn’t fall as the solid mass of his thigh wedged deeply between yours, riding high against your crotch under the cover of your tangled skirts. he shifted his weight, the blunt, agonizingly slow friction of his leg pressing directly into the aching center of your heat.
and then, through the heavy thrum of the printer, you heard it. the distant, rhythmic click of dress shoes on the floor down the hall. someone was walking toward the supply wing. panic flared white-hot in your stomach, a chaotic rush of adrenaline that made you violently struggle against him. you shoved your palms against his hard chest, twisting your hips in a desperate effort to tear yourself away from his leg before the footsteps could get closer. "jungwon, they're coming down the corridor.” you whimpered, your voice cracking with a very real, suffocating terror. "stop, please, the lights are on, they'll see our shadows through the glass-"
instead of pulling back, jungwon grabbed both of your wrists in a single, iron grip, forcing your hands down and pinning them flat against the cold metal counter behind your hips. you were completely exposed, your back arched over the machine, your chest heaving past your open blouse as he looked down at you with ravenous eyes. his free hand slid down from your hip, his fingers disappearing entirely beneath the hem of your skirt. the fabric hitched up past your thighs as his palm moved upward, tracing the bare skin of your inner thigh with a terrifyingly deliberate speed. you tried to lock your legs together, to bite down on the heat, but his knee pushed harder between yours, forcing you open, anchoring you so tightly against the counter that you couldn’t move a single inch.
the footsteps outside grew louder, pausing just a few meters away near the central cubicles. "jungwon, please." you cried out in a breathless plea, tears of sheer panic pricking the corners of your eyes as you stared at the door, expecting the handle to turn at any second.
he leaned down until his lips were hovering a millimeter away from yours, catching the frantic, terrified pants breaking from your mouth. his long fingers slid past the lace edge of your underwear, his knuckles brushing against your damp skin, finding the slick, embarrassingly hot reality of how ruined you already were for him. "then don't make a sound." he murmured, his jaw clenching as his fingers slowly slid inside you, making you give a helpless lurch against his hand. his dark eyes burned into yours, completely unhinged, as he whispered into your lips. "if you breathe too loud, y/n, they're going to hear you."
the words died in your throat, instantly choked out by the agonizingly deep, slow stretch of his fingers moving inside you. a sharp tremor racked your lower body, your hips lifting off the counter in a desperate reflex to escape the overwhelming intrusion. but jungwon wouldn't let you move. his iron grip on your wrists clamped down harder against the metal, the cold surface biting into your skin while his heavy thigh pinned your knees wide apart, keeping you utterly trapped against his hand.
outside, the distinct sound of a drawer opening cut through the heavy silence of the floor. a binder was pulled out, the plastic rings clicking open, just on the other side of the thin wall. tears of sheer panic spilled over your lashes, blurring your vision as you stared at the door. your mouth parted to let out a ragged sob of fear, but jungwon immediately leaned down, sealing his lips over yours to capture the sound before it could even form. the kiss was bruising and desperate, an unyielding barrier that completely swallowed your frantic pants.
beneath your skirt, his hand began to move with an agonizingly slow, rhythmic friction. each stroke was a deliberate torture, his fingers sliding deeply into your aching heat before curling slightly, deliberately targeting the sensitive walls within you. your core clenched violently around his touch, a shameful wetness coating his knuckles as your body betrayed your terror, adapting instantly to his rhythm.
jungwon let out a shuddering breath through his nose, his forehead pressing hard against yours as he kept his mouth locked over yours. you could taste the faint hint of mint and the raw heat of his desire, his jaw working against yours as his thumb found the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. he pressed down firmly, moving in a tight, heavy circle that sent a devastating jolt of pure pleasure straight up your spine.
you buckled against him, your fingers spasming within his tight grip, trying to claw at the counter to find some anchor. a muffled, high pitched whimper leaked into his mouth, your chest heaving violently against his sternum as the edge of an inevitable climax began to tighten in your lower stomach. you twisted your face away from his, trying to breathe, trying to beg him to stop before you lost control entirely.
"please." you mouthed against his jaw, your voice nothing more than a silent puff of air. "jungwon, they'll hear."
the rustle of papers outside paused again. the heavy sound of a sigh carried through the quiet corridor, followed by the slow, turning scrape of dress shoes. they were moving again, their footsteps pacing closer to the copy room door this time, the shadow growing larger against the frosted glass pane.
jungwon's eyes snapped open, dark and completely wild with the illicit thrill of the risk. he didn't pull his hand back. instead, his fingers drove deeper, hooking into you with a possessive speed that made your hips violently jerk against his thigh. his mouth came right back to your ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive lobe as he whispered in a ragged tone.
"hold it in." he breathed, the words a cutting command against your wet skin. "if you make a sound right now, they're going to open this door."
the shadow on the frosted glass stopped directly in front of the entrance. the silhouette was sharp, the distinct outline of a hand reaching out toward the silver handle visible through the pane. panic turned into absolute, paralyzing ice in your veins. your eyes stretched wide, staring at the shifting metal of the handle, waiting for the distinct click of the lock to draw their attention. you wanted to vanish into the floor, wanted to claw your way out of his grip, but your body was entirely failing you.
beneath your skirt, jungwon didn't give you a single second to process the terror. his thumb pressed down with a heavy force against your core, while his fingers drove into your slick heat with a sudden, relentless pace. the friction was overwhelming, a wave of pleasure fracturing your mind completely and turning the fear into something dangerously volatile.
a suffocating sob rose from your chest, your mouth opening in a silent, desperate scream for him to stop, to let you breathe, to save you from the imminent ruin. but jungwon caught your face with his free hand, his palm clamping hard over your mouth to stifle the sound before it could leave your lips. his long fingers dug into your cheeks, forcing your head back against his shoulder as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
you buckled violently against his palm, your hips jerking upward as the intense contraction of a climax slammed into your lower stomach. it was an agonizing, silent explosion. your core clamped down ruthlessly around his moving fingers, pulsing in tight waves that had you trembling from head to toe. the sheer intensity of it made your vision go dark at the edges, your body shaking helplessly against the hard metal counter while every single muffled gasp was completely crushed into the skin of his hand.
outside, the door handle gave a sharp, sudden rattle. someone was trying to push it open, but jungwon didn't pull back. he let out a ragged groan against your collarbone, his jaw clenching so hard the bone looked sharp as his fingers curled deeply inside you, absorbing the violent spasms of your release. his dark eyes flickered to the rattling handle, a dangerous, completely unhinged intensity clouding his features as he listened to the muffled voice outside mutter an annoyed curse about the door being jammed.
the footsteps finally turned away, the heavy sound of dress shoes retreating back down the long corridor toward the main elevators.
only when the silence of the office floor returned did jungwon slowly slide his wet fingers out from beneath your skirt. his palm remained firmly over your mouth for a few seconds longer, catching the broken pants that tore from your throat as your legs turned to water. you collapsed heavily against his chest, completely ruined, with nothing but the mechanical hum of the printer to fill the space between you.
he slowly lowered his hand from your mouth, his fingers brushing lightly against your wet lips. you immediately turned your head away, drawing in a ragged breath that trembled in your chest. the silence of the copy room returned, thick and suffocating.
you tried to smooth down your skirt with shaking hands, your fingers catching on the wrinkled fabric. the reality of what had just happened — and how close you had come to being caught — settled heavily in your stomach. a sharp knot of anxiety and resentment tightened in your throat.
"let me go." you whispered, refusing to look at him as you pushed weakly against his chest. "someone else will be here soon. the department starts filling up in ten minutes."
jungwon didn't move. he stood perfectly still, his chest expanding slowly against your palms as he looked down at you. the sharp, mocking arrogance was gone, replaced by a quiet, heavy intensity that felt far more dangerous. he looked at your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips, and the way your chest was still heaving. he was breathing heavily too, his usual immaculate composure slightly frayed, his tie shifted slightly to the side.
"you're still burning up." he murmured softly, his voice dropping into that low, raspy register. he reached out, his long fingers catching your jaw and gently but firmly turning your face back toward him. "and you're still looking at the door."
"because this is insane!" you gritted out, a tear of frustration finally slipping down your cheek. "you locked me in a copy room. anyone could have walked in. you could have ruined everything."
he didn't answer right away. he just stared at you, his dark eyes tracking the tear down your cheek before his gaze dropped back to your mouth. the silence stretched between you, heavy with everything left unsaid. there was a quiet weight to his presence, an undeniable gravity that made it impossible to truly step away even though his grip on your wrists had loosened.
slowly, his hand slid from your jaw down to the open collar of your blouse. his knuckles brushed against your collarbone, making you flinch, but you didn't pull away. your body was still humming from the release, completely sensitized, and the cool air of the room against your damp skin only made his touch feel warmer.
"i didn't ruin it." he whispered, his thumb lightly tracing the center of your lower lip. his other hand settled on your hip, his fingers digging into the fabric of your skirt, pulling your lower body back flush against his thigh. "and we aren't finished."
the quiet certainty in his voice made your heart skip a beat. you glanced at the frosted glass of the door again, the terror of being seen mixing with the pulsing ache that was already rebuilding in your lower stomach.
jungwon reached down, his fingers working efficiently at the buckle of his belt. the metallic click sounded incredibly loud in the small room. he didn't make a scene, he just looked at you with a calm, dark focus that made your knees feel weak all over again. he unzipped his slacks, his thick, rigid length freeing itself against your thigh. he hooked his hand under your knee, lifting your leg slightly to anchor it against his hip, his eyes never leaving yours as he guided himself directly against your wet opening.
"quiet, y/n." he murmured, his breath hot against your face as he leaned his weight forward. "keep your eyes on me."
he sank into you slowly, a deliberate pressure that made your eyes stretch wide as he filled you completely. a choked gasp caught in your throat, your fingers instantly digging into the hard fabric of his shoulders to keep from crying out. the stretch was immense, a burning ache that immediately sent a trembling wave of heat straight to your core.
jungwon let out a low, shaky exhale against your lips, his jaw tight as he paused, letting your tight walls adjust to the thick length of his cock. he didn't move for a long moment, simply holding you pinned against the printer, his gaze locked ruthlessly onto yours. you could see the subtle fracture in his calm facade — the way his pupils were completely dilated, the rapid pulse jumping in his neck, the sheer heat radiating from his skin.
"look at me." he whispered again, his voice a gravelly thread.
you forced yourself to keep eye contact, even as a distant telephone began to ring out in the main bullpen, a stark reminder that the office was slowly coming to life. every second he stayed inside you felt like a countdown to absolute disaster.
slowly, jungwon began to move. he pulled back just far enough to tease, before driving back in with a deep thrust that tilted your hips back against the counter. the friction was agonizingly perfect, hitting the exact spot his fingers had ruined just minutes before. your back arched instinctively, a desperate, muffled whimper escaping your lips before you could stop it.
instantly, jungwon’s hand came up, his palm pressing firmly over your mouth to stifle the sound. he didn't stop his rhythm. he kept the pace slow and bruising, his hips grinding into yours with a steady desperation that left you entirely breathless. under the cover of your hitched up skirt, the wet, sliding sound of his entry felt dangerously loud in the quiet room.
“shhhh. see how easy it was? mmh?” the vibration of his low voice hummed right against your ear, the condescending edge returning but wrapped in a breathless desperation that betrayed how deeply he was actually unraveling. you shook your head against his palm, a muffled protest dying against his skin as he drove into you again, harder this time. the blunt force of his hips bottoming out against yours made your vision blur, the intense internal friction striking a cord of pure pleasure that threatened to snap your remaining restraint.
he liked the resistance, but he liked your body's compliance even more. his fingers shifted slightly on your face, his thumb digging into the soft flesh of your cheek to keep you looking directly at him while his lower body maintained that punishing rhythm. the slick friction between your thighs was getting louder with every thrust, a scandalous sound that made your face burn with a fresh wave of shame.
outside, the distinct whine of the main printer network warming up echoed through the wall. someone had just logged into their computer at a nearby cubicle. the floor was officially waking up.
jungwon noticed it too. his eyes narrowed, a dangerous thrill flashing through his gaze as he leaned in even closer, his chest completely crushing your pinned hands against his sternum. he pulled out almost completely, a cruel, agonizingly slow withdrawal that left you feeling hollow and aching, before he slammed back in all the way to the hilt.
a loud, broken gasp was completely smothered by his hand, your hips jerking helplessly against his heavy thigh as a sudden wave of heat coiled tightly in your lower stomach.
"you're shaking." he murmured against his own palm, his breath hot and damp over your mouth as his pace finally began to quicken, losing its calculated restraint. his jaw was set so hard the muscle violently pulsed, his own breathing breaking into uneven pants against your neck. "look at you. you're so tight around me. tell me how pathetic i am now, y/n."
he didn't wait for an answer, nor did he give you the room to form one. he lifted your leg a fraction higher, anchoring you ruthlessly against his hip as his thrusts became faster, deeper, and entirely unmasked. every heavy push drove you closer to another ruinous collapse, your fingers clawing uselessly at his shoulders as you fought to keep from making a single sound that would bring the office crashing down around you.
your teeth sank directly into the meat of his palm, a desperate, vicious bite to keep from screaming as another brutal thrust hit your core. jungwon let out a gravelly hiss against your ear, but he didn't pull his hand away. if anything, the sharp pain only made his grip on your face tighten, his fingers digging into your jaw with a bruising force that kept your head pinned back against the metal machine. his hips didn't slow down for a fraction of a second, they slammed into yours with an unhinged speed that had the heavy industrial printer rattling faintly beneath your lower back.
the wet, sticky friction between your thighs was unbearable, a visual and physical ruin that made your mind spin with a sickening blend of terror and intense pleasure. outside, the heavy click of a ceramic mug hitting a desk sounded just feet away from the copy room door.
"jungwon... mmmph." you tried to speak against his skin, your words muffled into an unidentifiable whine as your hips violently buckled. you were getting too close, the coiled heat in your stomach tightening into a knot so sharp it made your knees completely lose their strength. you were going to fall apart right there, right into his hands, with half the marketing team just beyond the frosted glass.
he pulled his hand down from your mouth just a millimeter, his eyes wild and dark, entirely consumed by the sight of your ruined, weeping expression. "say it." he rasped, his voice an unraveled mess as he drove himself into you to the absolute hilt, over and over. "tell me what you want me to do before someone opens this door, y/n. tell me."
"please." you choked out, your voice a pathetic whisper, your fingers tearing at the crisp fabric of his shirt as the impending wave crashed over you. "hurry... jungwon, please, they're right outside."
a low, triumphant growl tore from the back of his throat. he didn't play the mocking gentleman anymore, he just grabbed your other thigh, completely lifting you off the counter as his thrusts became deep, blind, and ruthlessly heavy. your core clenched around him in violent contractions, a silent climax shattering your posture as you buried your face into his neck, biting his collarbone to swallow the ragged scream tearing from your lungs.
jungwon gave two more desperate shoves into your pulsing heat, his whole body locking up as a low groan escaped his lips. he buried his face in your hair, his length twitching deeply inside you as he filled you completely, his chest heaving against your crushed ribs.
the silence that followed was heavy and deafening, save for the frantic synchronicity of your breathing. he kept you lifted against him for a long moment, his body trembling slightly from the sheer force of his release as his weight anchored you firmly to the edge of the metal counter. outside, the murmur of two coworkers talking about their weekend plans drifted through the drywall, their voices casual, entirely unaware of the absolute ruin taking place just inches away.
slowly, the tension began to drain from jungwon’s rigid frame. he let out a shuddering exhale against your temple, his forehead resting heavily against yours as his grip on your thighs loosened just enough to let your heels touch the floor again. your knees immediately buckled, your legs feeling like jelly, and you had to clutch the front of his shirt just to keep your balance.
"stay still." he murmured, his voice incredibly low and rough, stripped entirely of its usual smooth cadence.
he didn't pull out of you immediately. instead, his hands slid up from your thighs to your waist, his thumbs tracing the small of your back beneath your shirt as he waited for the aftershocks of your climax to finally subside. every tiny, involuntary twitch of your inner muscles made his jaw clench, a lingering heat still humming between your lower bodies.
the internal turmoil in your chest was suffocating. you felt exposed, completely unraveled, and the sharp sting of shame was already beginning to fight its way through the fading haze of pleasure. you had begged him. you had completely dismantled your own walls and given him exactly what he wanted just because you were terrified of being caught.
"let me down." you whispered, your voice raw and completely spent, your eyes fixed strictly on the silver buttons of his vest. you couldn't bring yourself to look at his face, not with the sticky reality of what you had just done settling between your thighs.
jungwon didn't argue. with a careful shift of his weight, he slid out of you. the sudden absence of his heat made you shiver, a cold drop of moisture tracing its way down your inner thigh as the fabric of your underwear snapped back into place, damp and ruined.
he stepped back just half an inch, his fingers lingering on your hips for a split second before he reached down to fix his trousers. the click of his belt buckle sounded agonizingly permanent, signaling the immediate return of the corporate world you had both just violently stepped out of. jungwon reached around you without a word, his long fingers smoothly pressing the button on the top console of the copier. the machine came alive with a loud whir, instantly printing the remaining pages of your presentation, the rhythmic thumping of the paper tray filling the tense silence between you.
it was a clean, jarring transition back to reality. you immediately smoothed down your pencil skirt, your hands still trembling so violently that you could barely straighten the hem over your knees. you tucked your blouse back into the waistband with clumsy movements, your heart still hammering against your ribs from the sheer panic of the hallway voices. the dampness between your thighs was a humiliating reminder of what had just happened, but you forced yourself to ignore it, turning your back to him to gather the freshly printed documents from the tray.
behind you, the rustle of fabric signaled jungwon fixing his tie. when you finally turned around, the wild animal from moments ago was completely gone.
he was standing by the door, adjusting the cuffs of his pristine white shirt, his expression perfectly unreadable. his jaw was no longer clenched, his breathing had completely evened out, and the immaculate, polite golden boy facade was back in place as if it had never left. if it weren't for the slight flush lingering on his neck and the faint scent of your shared heat in the small room, you could have easily convinced yourself you imagined the whole thing. he reached for the silver handle, unlocking the door with a practiced click that felt devastatingly casual.
"the quarterly reports for the marketing team are on your desk, right?" he asked, his voice returning to that smooth, pleasant tone he used during morning meetings. there was no trace of the gravelly whisper that had just ruined you against the counter.
you swallowed the thick lump of shame in your throat, clutching the stack of papers against your chest like a shield. "yes. i'll review them before the noon briefing."
"perfect. let's make sure the formatting is correct before we present to the board." he replied, giving you a polite, professional nod.
he opened the door, stepping out into the bright, bustling corridor without a single backward glance, immediately greeting a passing manager with his charming smile. you stood alone in the dim room for a second longer, your legs still shaking, forced to step right out behind him and pretend the neat little walls of your corporate life hadn't just been completely shattered.
the transition was so seamless it made your stomach turn. you stepped out into the hallway a few paces behind him, the fluorescent lights of the main floor hitting your eyes with a punishing brightness. the office was alive now. the low hum of chatter, the sharp clacking of keyboards, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as if the world hadn't completely shifted on its axis over the last twenty minutes.
you walked past the central cubicles, your thigh muscles tightening painfully with every step, a constant, physical reminder of his weight pinning you down. it was terrifying how normal everything looked. you could feel the damp silk of your underwear clinging to your skin, a secret weight, while jungwon walked a few meters ahead of you with a perfectly straight spine, smoothly dropping off a folder at the reception desk.
he didn't look back at you. not once.
when you reached your desk, you sat down a little too quickly, a small gasp catching in your throat as your sensitized skin made contact with the cold chair. you immediately pulled the stack of warm printer papers in front of you, staring blindly at the columns of numbers. your mind was a chaotic, spinning mess of internal noise. how is he doing that? you thought, your fingers trembling as you gripped your pen. how is he just sitting there?
across the small divider, you could see the top of his dark head as he settled into his own desk. he adjusted his monitor, clicked his mouse, and reached for his pen with the exact same calm precision he displayed every single morning.
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪
in the weeks that followed, the absolute silence between you became a far more brutal punishment than any of his condescending words in the copy room.
the facade didn't break. not that day, not the next, and not during the endless string of standard departmental meetings that dragged on through the middle of the month. jungwon went back to being the perfect golden boy of the floor. he passed you files with a polite, entirely blank nod. he answered your emails with professional efficiency. if your fingers accidentally brushed over a shared document during a briefing, his hand would retract instantly, his expression remaining so utterly detached you started to wonder if you had hallucinated the entire thing again.
but the physical memory of him refused to fade. every time you walked past that specific frosted glass door in the morning, your stomach would drop, a phantom warmth blooming low in your belly. you hated how your eyes automatically tracked him through the glass partition of his cubicle, how you caught yourself memorizing the slight roll of his sleeves or the sharp line of his jaw when he leaned over his desk.
you were drowning in the quiet, agonizing space he had put between you, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, but jungwon simply refused to acknowledge it. your biggest fear had actually come true and you couldn’t do much about it.
until a rainy tuesday three weeks later. the rest of the team had already left for a corporate dinner you had skipped, leaving the floor dark and empty save for the steady hum of the fluorescent lights above your desk. you were typing a final report, your shoulders tense, when a shadow suddenly fell across your papers.
you snapped your head up. jungwon was standing on the other side of your partition, his trench coat slung over his arm, his briefcase already in hand. he looked exactly like he did every evening — immaculate, composed, completely out of reach.
"i'm locking up the main floor." he said, his voice carrying that pleasant cadence that had kept you at a distance for twenty one days. "are you finishing up soon, y/n?"
you swallowed hard, your fingers freezing over the keys as the sheer, suffocating weight of his presence hit you all at once. the weeks of forced indifference, the stolen glances, and the burning shame of that morning in the supply closet flared hot in your chest. "i have ten minutes left." you managed to say, forcing your voice to stay even, refusing to let him see how much his simple proximity was making your pulse race. "you don't have to wait for me."
jungwon didn't move. he stood perfectly still in the dim aisle, his dark eyes fixed on your face. for a long second, the silence stretched between you, thick with the unspoken reality of what you had done against that counter.
then, very slowly, his gaze dropped to your mouth. it was the first real break in his mask in a month. his jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek giving a sharp pulse, and the familiar, dangerous intensity flooded his eyes, clouding the brown until they looked almost entirely black. he wasn't looking at a coworker anymore. he was looking at you the exact same way he had right before he pinned your wrists to the metal.
"ten minutes." he murmured, his voice dropping into that low register that made your spine instantly freeze. he didn't step closer, and he didn't touch you, but the territorial, heavy grip of his eyes felt like a physical weight against your skin. "i'll be by the elevators." he turned and walked away before you could breathe, his dress shoes clicking sharply against the floor, leaving you trembling in the empty office with the terrifying realization that the walls you had spent weeks building hadn't actually kept anything out.
after those agonizing ten minutes quickly passed, the elevator doors slid shut with a synchronized click, leaving the two of you entirely alone in the descending steel box.
the silence was thick, pressing heavily against your eardrums as the floor numbers ticked downward. you stood in the corner, clutching the strap of your bag with white-knuckled intensity, your eyes glued to the polished metal doors. you could feel the suffocating friction of his presence just two feet away. your mind was a chaotic, spinning mess of internal noise, replaying the dark look he had just given you across your desk. did he mean it? is he going to do something? you glanced at him from beneath your lashes, your heart hammering against your ribs.
jungwon was leaning casually against the handrail, one hand slid carelessly into his trouser pocket while the other held his briefcase. his eyes were fixed on the digital display above the door, his expression completely blank, perfectly smooth, and utterly nonchalant. the raspy voice from three minutes ago might as well have belonged to a ghost. his jaw was loose, his breathing perfectly rhythmic.
a sickening knot of realization twisted sharply in your stomach. he doesn't care. the thought hit you like a physical blow, draining the residual heat from your veins and replacing it with a hollow ache. the fierce, territorial grip of his eyes back at your cubicle hadn't been a confession or a break in his mask — it was just a reflex. a passing thought. he was just playing with you, testing to see if he still had that terrifying gravity over your body, and you had shown him your absolute ruin in a single second. you had let him see how easily he could freeze you when you had vehemently swore it could never happen, while he didn't even have the decency to let his composure slip for more than a heartbeat.
the elevator chimed, the doors sliding open to reveal the dim, echoing expanse of the underground parking garage. jungwon straightened up smoothly, stepping out onto the concrete without waiting for you. his easy strides carried him toward his sleek sedan, his coat swinging slightly with the movement. he looked so effortlessly out of your reach, a pristine corporate entity who hadn't spent the last three weeks drowning in the memory of your slick heat coating his knuckles. to him, it was just another day. it was just an empty office floor.
"drive safe, y/n." he called out over his shoulder, his voice carrying that entirely detached cadence as he unlocked his car with a distant beep. he didn't look back to see your expression. he just slid into the driver's seat, closing the door with a definitive thud that echoed through the empty garage, leaving you standing under the flickering lights, completely hollowed out by his indifference.
you didn’t move until the taillights of his car disappeared up the concrete ramp, leaving the garage in a darker quiet. the bite of the underground air finally pierced through the numbness in your chest, forcing a shaky breath from your throat. you hated him. you hated him so deeply in that moment, but more than anything, you hated the pathetic way your skin still felt too tight, still humming with a desperate, unearned adrenaline just because he had looked at your mouth.
it was a game, you reminded yourself as you unlocked your own car, your fingers stiff against the steering wheel. just a power trip. you had spent three weeks thinking you were sharing a suffocating secret, drowning in the memory of his fingers, while he had probably forgotten the exact color of the underwear he had pushed aside.
the next morning, you arrived early, your spine perfectly straight, your eyes cold. you had spent the entire night rebuilding your own walls, cementing them with the raw humiliation of his easy departure.
and jungwon made it incredibly easy for you to believe the lie.
over the next two weeks, you watched him play his part with a terrifying, flawless precision. he still was the department's golden boy, the immaculate genius every higher-up adored and every intern whispered about. you sat at your desk and watched him smile charmingly at the new girl from hr, leaning just close enough to make her blush while he explained the expense report system. you heard the rumors through the office grapevine — how he had been seen leaving a lounge downtown with a senior designer from product development last friday, his jacket slung over his arm, looking effortlessly smooth.
he still was methodical. he still was calculated. he picked them apart, charmed them, used them, and then returned to his desk on monday morning without a single hair out of place. you were nothing special to him. you were just a checkbox in his sick need for control, a momentary lapse where he wanted to see if he could break the one person who didn't look at him like he hung the moon.
so you needed to stop looking. you treated him like a piece of office furniture — functional, necessary, and completely uninteresting. when he passed you files, you didn't look at his eyes. when he emailed you, you replied with one word confirmations. you forced yourself to believe you were completely over it.
but because you were the only one who actually saw past the perfect golden armor, you were the only one who noticed the tiny, almost invisible cracks.
it started with his posture. jungwon always sat perfectly straight, but lately, whenever jay came over to your desk to laugh and linger a little too long, jungwon’s broad shoulders would turn entirely rigid behind his partition. his keyboard would go dead silent. he wouldn't turn around, he wouldn't break his perfect facade, but his pen would stop clicking, hovering over his paperwork until jay finally walked away.
then came the morning briefings. he would sit at the head of the conference table, smoothly delivering metrics to the team with his usual pleasant, charming tone. everyone was captivated. but your eyes were fixed on his hands. while his voice was perfectly steady, his thumb was repeatedly tracing the silver band of his watch — a restless motion he only did when he was deeply unsettled. and once, just once, when you leaned forward to grab a printout, his eyes flickered down to your collarbone, his jaw tightening so hard the muscle violently pulsed before he smoothly transitioned to the next slide.
on friday afternoon, right before clock out, the office was buzzing with the energy of the weekend, people packing up their bags and making loud plans. jungwon was surrounded by three girls from marketing, holding court near the elevators, offering them that effortless, dimpled smile that always made them giggle. from your desk, he looked completely unbothered, entirely back to his usual routine of being the untouchable favorite.
you quietly zipped your bag, sliding your chair back to leave through the side exit, wanting to avoid the elevator crowd entirely.
as you walked past the main copy room — the very room that still made your stomach drop every time you glanced at the frosted glass — the door suddenly clicked open a fraction of an inch.
you paused, your heart skipping a beat. jungwon was inside, dropping off a stack of recycled papers. he hadn't seen you yet. he was completely alone, away from his audience, and for a split second, the charming golden boy was entirely dead. his head was down, his chest heaving in a slow breath that looked incredibly heavy. his fingers were gripping the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles were stark white. the exact spot where he had pinned your wrists.
you took a step back, your shoes scuffing lightly against the floor. jungwon’s head snapped up. through the gap in the door, his dark eyes locked onto yours. the pleasant, fake sweet mask he had been wearing at the elevators just two minutes ago was completely shattered, replaced by a hollowed out frustration that made your breath hitch. he didn't move, and he didn't say a word. you both just stood there, the heavy silence of the copy room bleeding out into the hallway, cutting straight through the distant chatter of the office.
his eyes didn't leave yours. the unhinged intensity you thought you had imagined was right there, clouding the brown of his pupils until they looked almost black. his knuckles remained white against the counter, his broad shoulders rising and falling with that same heavy breath. it was a silent confession he couldn't take back, a glaring proof that while he was out there playing the untouchable prince, he was secretly rotting in the exact same memory that had been torturing you for weeks.
he’s losing, the realization hit your chest with a dizzying jolt. he’s pretending just as hard as i am. but then, almost as quickly as it had shattered, his mask began to piece itself back together. you could see the exact moment his calculating mind took over. his fingers slowly uncurled from the edge of the counter, his spine straightening into that familiar, impeccable posture. he let out a dismissive breath through his nose, his jaw tightening into a smooth, even line as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt.
by the time he took a step toward the doorway, it all was gone, replaced once again by the flawless colleague. "going home?" he asked, his voice sliding effortlessly back into that casual tone that made your stomach turn. he didn't lean in, and he didn't look at your mouth. he just stepped out into the hallway, pulling the copy room door shut behind him with a definitive click.
"yes." you managed to say, your voice flat, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. you hated how your heart was still hammering against your ribs, how your body still reacted to his proximity even when his eyes were completely blank again.
"good. enjoy the weekend, y/n." he replied, giving you an entirely standard nod that you would see him give any other staff member.
he turned on his heel and walked right back toward the elevators, smoothly slipping back into the crowd of marketing girls who were still waiting for him. as you walked away through the side exit, your chest ached with a burning confusion. he was still that same fake, dangerous boy, completely unreachable, but you were pretty sure of what you saw. the immaculate armor had a leak, and for the first time in a month, you didn’t seem to be the only one suffocating.
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪
you spent the entire weekend trapped in the memory of those three seconds. no matter how hard you tried to push it away — whether you were cleaning your apartment or staring blindly at the television — all you could see was the unraveled frustration in his eyes before his mask snapped back into place. it changed everything. you had spent weeks drowning in shame, convinced you were the only one broken by what had happened, while he just smoothly moved on to the next person. but now it seemed like his nonchalance was just as fake as his charming, dimpled smile.
by monday morning, the office atmosphere felt different, charged with a quiet, invisible current that only the two of you could feel. you sat at your desk, keeping your head down, but you didn't feel like a victim anymore. the dynamic had subtly shifted. when jungwon arrived, he was back to his usual routine — laughing politely at a manager's bad joke, offering a sweet, effortless greeting to the receptionist. but as he walked past your partition to get to his desk, you didn't look away this time. you kept your eyes fixed on your screen, perfectly still, letting your deliberate indifference hang in the air like a wall.
you heard the distinct slide of his briefcase hitting his desk, followed by a sudden silence. he didn't sit down right away.
for a long, tense minute, the only sound between your cubicles was the low hum of the air conditioner. you could feel his gaze burning through the small gap in the divider, heavy and demanding, practically begging you to look up and give him the validation he always took from you. but you didn't give him a single inch. you casually reached for your ceramic mug, took a slow sip of your coffee, and clicked on your email spreadsheet. the keys of his keyboard suddenly rattled under his fingers with a force that was just a fraction too aggressive for his usual methodical rhythm.
around eleven, jay strolled over to your desk, leaning his hip against the edge of your partition with a lazy grin. "hey, y/n. a few of us are grabbing lunch down at that new bistro by the plaza later. you should come. i'll even cover your dessert if you help me look over the Q2 projections afterwards."
you offered jay a genuine smile, leaning back in your chair. "sure, jay. that sounds really nice, actually. let me just finish up this report."
"perfect. it's a date, then." jay joked, giving you a playful wink before turning to leave.
the exact second jay's footsteps faded down the hall, the quiet clicking of jungwon's keyboard completely stopped. the silence from his cubicle was suffocating, thick with a sudden, icy hostility that made the hairs on your arms stand up.
a moment later, your inbox chimed with a new notification:
From: Yang Jungwon
To: Y/N
Subject: Q2 Presentation Formatting
Please bring the physical drafts of the marketing presentation to the main archive room on B1. There are inconsistencies in the data layout that need to be corrected immediately before the afternoon briefing.
your heart gave a violent thud against your ribs. the archive room. that windowless, isolated space in the basement where almost no one went during the day. you stared at the text on your screen, your fingers freezing over your mouse as the internal turmoil flared white-hot in your chest all over again. he was pulling the strings, falling back on his authority because his perfect, fake sweet persona wasn't working on you. he was desperate to get you behind a closed door, desperate to find out if he still held that volatile gravity over your body.
you slowly printed out the sheets, the rhythmic thumping of the machine sounding like a countdown. you gathered the warm papers against your chest, your knees feeling slightly weak as you stood up, forced to walk toward the elevators and find out exactly how much further his flawless armor was going to crack.
the basement air hit you first — cool, damp, and smelling faintly of dust and old paper.
the heavy steel door of the archive room clicked shut behind you with an echoing thud that made your chest tighten. it was completely isolated down there, rows of high metal shelves stretching out under the harsh buzz of fluorescent tubes. you walked down the center aisle, the physical drafts clutched tightly against your chest like a shield, your heels clicking softly on the smooth concrete.
jungwon was already there. he was standing by a long metal sorting table at the back of the room, casually flipping through a thick folder. his suit jacket was off, draped neatly over the back of a nearby chair, and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt were rolled up to his elbows with that effortless precision.
"you said there were inconsistencies." you said, your voice cutting through the silence. you kept it flat, professional, and entirely devoid of the breathy panic you knew he was used to extracting from you. you stepped up to the opposite side of the wide metal table, sliding the stack of papers across the cold surface between you.
jungwon didn't look up immediately. he slowly finished the line he was reading, tapped his pen against the table twice, and then finally raised his eyes.
the forced nonchalance in his gaze was breathtakingly thin, but he held it together. the pleasant, fake nice colleague was perfectly intact. "slide four." he murmured, his voice smooth, though it carried a quiet weight that felt incredibly heavy in the small room. "the formatting doesn't match the logistics ledger. we can't present sloppy work to the board."
"it's not sloppy." you replied smoothly, leaning your palms against the edge of the table, deliberately matching his unbothered posture. "jay reviewed the data layout with me last week. he said it was perfect."
the mention of his name hit the air like a live wire. jungwon’s fingers tightened around his pen for a fraction of a second, his knuckles turning pale before he relaxed his grip. he didn't snap, and he didn't raise his voice. instead, he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the metal table, looking at you with a calm, analytical focus that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
"jay doesn't sign off on your department's metrics." jungwon said, his tone dropping into a slightly lower register that sent a phantom shiver down your spine. "i do. if he wants to audit your work, he can do it through the proper channels. until then, i need you to align these numbers."
"i'll fix it at my desk, then." you said, reaching out to pull the papers back toward yourself, desperate to break the suffocating gravity of his presence.
but jungwon didn't let go of his side of the papers. his hand clamped down flat on the top sheet, trapping the documents against the metal. his dark eyes locked onto yours. the silence stretched between you and you could see the faint pulse jumping in his neck, the slight tightness in his jaw.
"we have an hour before the briefing, y/n." he murmured, his voice losing just a bit of its polished edge. "do it here. i need to verify it in real time."
you swallowed hard, your internal turmoil flaring white hot. you wanted to push back, wanted to call him out on his transparent power play, but the sheer, addictive thrill of having his unmasked attention kept you rooted to the spot. without breaking eye contact, you slowly pulled your laptop out of your bag, setting it on the cold metal table.
for the next ten minutes, the only sound in the archive room was the rhythmic clicking of your keyboard. you sat on a metal stool, keeping your posture rigid. jungwon remained directly across from you, ostensibly reviewing his ledger, but you could feel his eyes tracking every minor movement of your fingers, the way your collarbone shifted when you breathed, the tension in your shoulders. it was an agonizing tug of war, a silent battle of attrition to see who would fold first.
"done." you finally said, your voice sounding a little too thin in the quiet room. you pushed the laptop an inch forward. "the metrics are aligned."
jungwon closed his folder. instead of leaning over the table to look at the screen, he walked around it. every step he took felt impossibly loud. he didn't stop until he was standing right beside your stool, so close that his thigh brushed against your shoulder. his expensive scent entirely crowded out the musty smell of the basement, sending a treacherous wave of heat straight to your lower stomach. you froze, your hands resting rigidly in your lap, refusing to look up at him.
he leaned down, planting one hand on the metal table right next to your laptop, the other resting on the back of your stool, entirely caging you in. "is this what jay taught you?" jungwon murmured, his voice a mocking rasp right next to your ear. he wasn't even looking at the screen. his gaze was fixed on the side of your neck. "because the margins are still off."
"the margins are standard." you gritted out, your fingers curling into fists in your lap to keep them from trembling. the forced proximity was destroying your composure. "he actually knows how to work with the team, jungwon. unlike some people, he doesn't just use everyone around him for a power trip."
the air in the room completely stalled. jungwon let out a slow, sharp breath that fanned across your cheek. he didn't pull away. instead, he leaned in a fraction closer, the polished golden boy facade finally cracking.
"you're trying so hard, y/n." he whispered, his voice dark and utterly devoid of his usual corporate charm. "ignoring me in the hallways. sending one word emails. letting jay buy you coffee just to see if i'll react."
"i'm not trying to do anything." you shot back, finally turning your head to glare at him. it was a mistake. his face was mere inches from yours, his dark eyes completely consumed by that familiar intensity. the memory of his hand over your mouth, his hips crushing yours against the counter, suddenly screamed in the silence between you. "i just don't care about you anymore."
"liar." the word was a soft, cruel accusation. his eyes dropped to your lips, tracking the way they parted on a shaky intake of breath. his hand shifted from the back of your stool, his long fingers lightly grazing the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck beneath your hair. "you care so much it's eating you alive.”
you wanted to shove him away. you wanted to slap him. but as his thumb brushed over your pulse point, feeling the hammering rhythm of your heart, a humiliating ache bloomed in your chest. the fight drained out of you, replaced by a suffocating yearning that you had spent an entire month trying to kill.
"then stop playing games." you whispered, your voice cracking, a raw confession slipping out before you could stop it. "stop looking at me like that if you're just going to go back upstairs and pretend i don't exist. or are you just doing all this to humiliate me and keep your ego intact?"
jungwon’s jaw locked. the muscle jumped violently beneath his skin, his eyes darkening into an absolute void as he stared down at you, the agonizing space between your lips separated by nothing but a few inches of cold basement air. the silence stretched for a long second, the harsh buzz of the lights above ringing in your ears like a warning.
"my ego." he repeated, the words tearing out of his throat in a harsh whisper. "you think my ego is intact."
his hand slid from the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling violently into the roots of your hair as he forced your head back. the movement was sharp, possessive, snapping the very last thread of your composure. he stepped right between your parted knees, the metal legs of your stool scraping loudly against the concrete as he dragged you inches closer to the edge of the table.
the solid warmth of his body pressed flush against your inner thighs, sending a blinding wave of heat straight to your center. you let out a choked gasp, your hands flying up to grip the lapels of his shirt, entirely unsure if you were trying to push him away or pull him closer.
"i haven't slept a full night in a month." he breathed against your mouth, his chest heaving against yours. the immaculate, calculating golden boy was completely gone, dissolving into someone desperate, unraveled, and entirely out of control. "i sit at my desk and watch you look right through me, and it takes every single ounce of my self control not to drag you under it and remind you exactly what you sounded like choking on my fingers."
your heart was hammering so violently it physically hurt. you stared up into his dark, ruined eyes, the resentment that had protected you for weeks crumbling into dust under the sheer weight of his confession.
"you want to know why i pretend, y/n? you want to know why i walk away?" jungwon continued, his voice dropping into a venomous growl, his thumb digging bruisingly into your jawline.
a hot tear of sheer, overwhelming frustration finally broke free, tracing down your cheek. "why?" you whispered pathetically, your walls completely dismantled.
"because if i let myself drop the act," he rasped, his gaze dropping to your mouth before flickering back up, pitch black and starving. "if i let myself actually think about how slick and ruined you were for me... how perfectly you clamped down on my cock while you begged me to hurry... i wouldn't just lock you in a copy room. i would bend you over every single desk on that floor and fuck that cold attitude right out of you until you couldn't drive home."
he didn't give you a chance to breathe, let alone answer. his mouth crashed down onto yours with a devastating force. it wasn't the teasing, mocking kiss from before. it was messy, filthy, and completely starved. his lips parted yours violently, his tongue driving deep into your mouth to swallow the broken sound that tore from your throat. he tasted like black coffee and unadulterated need.
the fight instantly drained out of your muscles. your hands, which had been clenched against his chest, completely surrendered, your fingers sliding up to fist into the crisp fabric at his shoulders. you kissed him back just as desperately, your body arching into his heat, chasing the exact friction that had been torturing your memory for weeks.
a low groan vibrated deep in his chest. he let go of your hair, wrapping both of his arms tightly around your waist and physically lifting you off the stool. the papers on the table scattered onto the concrete floor as he slammed your back down onto the cold metal surface, his heavy frame immediately settling right between your legs.
"open for me." he growled against your lips, his hand already sliding ruthlessly up your thigh, pushing your skirt out of the way. "let me see if you've been aching for it as badly as i have."
his hand didn't bother with being gentle. his long fingers dragged up your inner thigh, snagging on the lace of your underwear. he hooked two fingers under the damp fabric and shoved it aside with an almost violent tug. the cool basement air hit your exposed core for a fraction of a second before his blunt fingers pressed directly against your slick heat.
a shuddering breath tore from his lungs. he let his forehead drop against your shoulder, his chest heaving as he felt exactly how ready you were for him. "fuck." he rasped, his voice vibrating against your collarbone. he slid one thick finger deep inside you, the wet, obscene sound echoing loudly in the quiet room. "you're completely soaked. you were sitting at your desk acting like i didn't exist while you were dripping wet for me, mmh?"
"jungwon-" you whimpered, your hips jerking instinctively upward to chase his hand. the humiliation of being so easily exposed was entirely drowned out by the blinding relief of finally having him touch you again.
"we have twenty minutes until the briefing." he muttered, his dark eyes snapping back up to yours, feral and unyielding. "i'm going to ruin you so badly you won't be able to look at that projector screen without shaking." he didn't waste another second. his free hand dropped to his waist, the sharp clink of his belt buckle sounding like a starting gun. he tore his zipper down, freeing his erect cock before gripping your hips with bruising force. he dragged you to the very edge of the sorting table, your lower half completely suspended off the metal as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist to anchor yourself.
he didn't tease. he just lined himself up, gripped your thighs tightly, and sank into you with one deep, ruthless thrust that buried him to the absolute hilt. a loud, broken scream tore from your throat, but he swallowed it instantly, his mouth crashing back down onto yours. the stretch was agonizingly perfect. the contrast of the freezing metal table biting into your shoulder blades and the burning heat of him completely filling you made your mind entirely short circuit.
he broke the kiss just to catch his breath, his jaw clenched so tight the bone looked sharp enough to cut. "fuck, y/n." he groaned, his head falling back as his hips locked against yours for a second, absorbing the suffocating grip of your inner walls. "you're so tight."
and then he started to move. there was no methodical pacing, no calculated restraint. he fucked you with a frantic, punishing desperation, his hips pulling back only to slam into you with a heavy, wet slap that echoed obscenely off the metal shelves. the heavy sorting table actually rattled under his weight, every brutal thrust driving you backward, forcing your hands to claw helplessly at the ruined fabric of his shirt.
"jungwon, p-please. it's too fast." you choked out, your vision blurring with white hot tears as the friction immediately dialed up to an unbearable intensity. your core was already so sensitized from weeks of yearning that every time he bottomed out inside of you, a violent tremor shot straight through your stomach.
"it's not fast enough." he growled, his hand sliding up to grip your throat — not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to assert his absolute control, his thumb resting heavily over your racing pulse. he stared down at you, his immaculate hair falling messily over his forehead, his dark eyes tracking every single expression that crossed your ruined face. "let go for me. fall apart right here, before we have to go back upstairs and pretend."
you couldn't hold on even if you tried. the ticking clock, the danger of the basement door, and the overwhelming reality of him finally taking what you both wanted completely shattered your restraint. your nails dug into his forearms, a high, desperate whine leaving your lips as your internal walls began to violently contract.
"that's it." he rasped, his pace turning blind and relentless as he felt your climax begin to milk him. "take it. take all of it."
you completely broke, a ragged sob tearing from your chest as the climax rippled through you, your core clamping down on his rigid length in relentless waves. jungwon let out a deep, guttural groan, his control instantly snapping as he gave one final brutal shove before burying his face in your neck, spilling hotly deep inside you as his entire body locked up against yours.
the absolute silence of the basement returned with a deafening weight, broken only by the frantic synch of your breathing.
he stayed buried deep inside you for a heavy moment, his chest heaving against you, his pulse hammering a violent rhythm against your neck where his face was still buried. the heat radiating from his skin was staggering, a stark contrast to the freezing metal table biting into your spine. inside you, the last of his frantic twitches subsided, leaving behind a pulsing warmth that made your head spin with a sickening cocktail of euphoria and crashing panic.
ten minutes. your mind violently jolted back to the clock. we have ten minutes.
slowly, the rigid tension began to bleed out of jungwon’s frame. he let out a shuddering exhale against your skin, his forehead coming to rest heavily against your shoulder. when he finally pulled back, the physical separation felt brutal. he slid out of you with a wet friction that made your inner muscles helplessly twitch, a drop of moisture immediately coming down your inner thigh just like the first time.
the transition back to reality was instant, cold, and utterly terrifying again.
jungwon didn't say a word. he stepped back just half an inch, his long fingers lingering on your hip for a fraction of a second before he reached down to fix his clothes. you watched him through blurred vision as he pulled his sleeves back down, buttoning his cuffs with steady movements. his hair was messy, a few dark strands falling over his eyes, and a telltale flush covered his cheeks, but his expression was already shutting down. the feral man who had just pinned you to a metal table was being buried alive once again, brick by brick, right before your eyes.
"fix your skirt." he murmured, his voice incredibly low, still carrying a rough edge that he was clearly trying to smooth over. he didn't look at your face. he was looking at his watch. "we have less than ten minutes to get to the conference room."
the casual nonchalance of his tone made your stomach violently turn. you scrambled off the table, your legs shaking so violently that your heels nearly buckled the moment they hit the concrete floor. you immediately turned your back to him, your hands trembling as you tucked your blouse back into your waistband, smoothing down the wrinkled fabric of your skirt with silly, panicked movements. the sticky reality of what he had just left inside you was a burning weight between your thighs, but you obliged yourself to not think about it, desperately trying to swallow the thick lump of shame and yearning clogging your throat.
he's doing it again, you thought, your chest aching with a raw, suffocating turmoil. he just used me to vent a month of frustration, and now he's putting the mask back on.
when you forced yourself to turn around, the illusion was almost perfect. jungwon had donned his jacket, straightened his collar, and run a hand through his hair to guide it back into its immaculate style. once more, you could have convinced yourself it all had been a hallucination.
he picked up the scattered presentation slides from the floor, tapping the edge of the papers against the table to align them perfectly. "the data layout looks completely standard now." he said, his voice sliding effortlessly back into that tone he used for the board of directors. he extended the stack of papers toward you, his hand perfectly steady. "make sure you hand these to the department head as soon as we walk in."
you took the papers, your fingers brushing against his for a fraction of a second. you expected him to pull away, expected the ice — but his fingers tightened subtly over yours, pinning the pages between you for one agonizing heartbeat.
his eyes locked onto yours, pitch black and harboring a quiet promise that completely contradicted his polite posture. i'm not finished with you, his gaze whispered, loud and clear, before he smoothly let go.
"let's go." jungwon said, offering you a polite nod as he turned toward the heavy steel door. "we can't be late for the briefing."
he pushed the door open, stepping out into the hallway without a single backward glance. you stood alone in the dim archive room for one second longer, trying to steady your breath, before you stepped right out behind him — forced to walk into a crowded elevator and pretend your entire world hadn't just been ruined in the basement.
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪
the briefing passed in a blinding blur. you sat three chairs down from him at the long mahogany table, your knees locked tightly together, trying to focus on the projector screen while the slow warmth of what he had left inside you cooled against your thighs. jungwon was flawless. he pointed at the data slides with his silver pen, spoke in that bright, capable way the executives loved, and didn't look at you a single time.
that afternoon was the first brick laid in a structure that would systematically hollow you out over the next four weeks. the basement hadn't been a momentary break in his mask. instead, it became the blueprint for a toxic, unspoken routine that established itself entirely through the company’s internal server. neither of you ever spoke a word about it out loud. there were no late night texts, no lingering looks, and absolutely no acknowledgment of the ruin you shared. jungwon kept the boundary line thick and visible, and you, out of a desperate, clawing need to save your own pride, matched his stride.
you learned to read the language of his casual invitations. it always started with a generic email notification flashing on your monitor. the subject lines were always pristine, completely invisible to anyone else — archival cross-reference, logistics ledger review, updated q3 formatting. but the timing was calculated with a terrifying precision. it was always 7:15 am, before the front desk receptionist clocked in, or 8:30 pm, when the main floor lights auto dimmed and the cleaning crew was still three levels above.
the locations shifted, but the suffocating friction remained the same. a vacant corporate lounge on the 14th floor, a narrow, windowless supply vault behind the server racks, the deep corner of a private office after the heavy blinds were twisted shut against the city.
and every single time, the pattern was a torturous loop. you would walk into the designated room with your jaw clenched, your heart hammering an angry rhythm against your ribs, determined to prove you were just as detached as he was. jungwon would be waiting, looking immaculate, his expression completely blank as he gave you some casual instruction. you would pretend you didn't care. he would pretend he didn't care.
then, the air would stall. the forced nonchalance would burn away into that unhinged intensity, and he would drag you against a desk or pin you against a wall. he was filthy in the dark, using a venomous rasp to whisper things that made your blood boil with a sickening mix of shame and desperate desire. he would take everything your body pathetically yearned for, running the clock down to the absolute last second.
and the exact heartbeat his release was over, the ice returned.
he would slide out of you, fix his trousers, and adjust his silk tie in the mirror without saying a single word. by the time you stepped back out into the hallway, he would already be five paces ahead of you, his hands slid carelessly into his pockets, ready to greet a manager with a charming nod.
that was the part that was slowly driving you insane — the terrifying precision of his dual reality, and the rotting hurt it left in your chest.
during the day, you had to sit at your desk and watch him play the department's golden boy. you watched him lean over the reception desk, giving the new girls that fake sweet look that made them stammer. you heard all the gossip about who he did or did not fuck. to the rest of the world, he was pristine. you were nothing special to him, just a hidden variable in his daily schedule, a convenient way to vent his corporate frustration because you were the only one who didn't look at him like that.
you wanted to scream at him. you wanted to slap the casual, empty smile right off his face in the morning briefings. you wanted to ask him if you were just a tool, if he even remembered your name when he wasn't burying his face in your neck. but the rules of the game you had both entered meant you couldn't say a single word. to voice the hurt would mean admitting that his effortless shifts between the office prince and the private monster were breaking you. it would mean admitting that while he was just having a casual, physical release, you were drowning in him. if you showed a single crack in your composure, he would win. he would see your ruin, give you that polite, standard nod, and walk away entirely. so you swallowed the pain until it tasted like battery acid, cementing your face into the same blank indifference he wore so well.
by the end of the month, your internal mess had stretched your nerves to a breaking point. the careless act was getting heavier, the unspoken friction between your cubicles turning into an icy wall that made the entire floor feel unsafe.
it was a thursday evening, the clock creeping just past 8:45 pm. the department was dead silent, the only sound the steady drumming of rain against the floor to ceiling glass windows.
your monitor flashed white in the darkened space:
From: Yang Jungwon
To: Y/N
Subject: Late Invoice Discrepancy
Please bring the physical Q3 budget folders to the archive room immediately for verification.
your fingers shook against the mouse. there was no discrepancy. he was just stressed from the executive board meeting he had endured that afternoon, and he wanted to use you to burn it off.
you slowly stood up, gathering the heavy folders against your chest like a shield. your knees felt weak, your blood running thick with that familiar adrenaline as you walked down the darkened hallway toward the archive room.
through the glass partition, you could see his silhouette. jungwon had his jacket off, his white shirt slightly loosened at the collar, his hands slid deep into his trouser pockets. he looked completely composed, a picture of solitary corporate elegance. you pushed the heavy door open, stepping into the room. the quiet click of the latch closing behind you sounded like a definitive thud in the silence.
jungwon didn't turn around. he let the quiet stretch between you, the casual indifference of his posture practically mocking the storm raging in your chest.
"close the door, y/n." he murmured smoothly, his side profile showing the faint, dangerous ghost of a smirk. "and lock it."
you didn't move. the plastic folders were cold against your chest, a brittle barrier between your hammering ribs and the quiet expanse of the room. your thumb hovered near the edge of the first tab, freezing. for a whole month, your hand would have already reached backward, blindly finding the lock, twisting it shut without a second thought because the pathetic craving inside you always won. but tonight, the ache in your throat felt heavier than any other ache.
"i said," jungwon murmured, his tone dropping just a fraction, the smooth corporate tone beginning to fray at the edges as he slowly turned his head to look at you. "lock the door."
he was waiting for you to fold. he was waiting for the familiar routine to click into place — the cold glances, the sudden slam against the wall, the filthy whispers that would temporarily numb the hollow feeling in your chest. he looked so infuriatingly untouched, standing there with his sleeves rolled up, entirely confident that you would slide right into your designated role in his schedule.
"no." you said. the word was small, barely a whisper against the relentless drumming of the rain outside, but it felt like a gunshot in the dead silence of the room.
jungwon’s brows twitched, his head turning fully toward you now. his hands stayed in his pockets, his posture still maintaining that unbothered stance, but his dark eyes sharpened, tracking the slight tremor in your shoulders. "what?"
"i'm not locking it." you said, your voice growing steadier, though the raw edge of it was impossible to hide now. you walked forward, but you didn't stop close to him. you slammed the folders down on the edge of the table, the loud smack echoing off the metal shelves. "the metrics are on page twelve. if there's a discrepancy, find it yourself. i'm leaving."
you turned on your heel, your chest burning, ready to walk out before the humiliation of your own tears could fully expose you. but jungwon was faster. the casual nonchalance vanished in a heartbeat. his hand shot out of his pocket, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with a bruising grip that violently pulled you back into his space. the expensive scent of his cologne crowded your senses instantly, a suffocating reminder of every single desk, wall, and floor he had claimed you on over the last four weeks.
"what is this?" he growled, his voice dropping into that venomous rasp, his face mere inches from yours. his pupils were blown, the feral, starving frustration finally breaking through his mask. "you don't get to just walk out, y/n. you received the email. you came down here. don't start playing games now."
"i'm not playing games, jungwon!" you choked out, the resentment finally fracturing your voice as you tried to violently wrenched your wrist from his grip. he didn't budge. his fingers only tightened, pinning you against his chest until you could feel the furious thudding of his own heart. "i'm done. i can't do this anymore."
"can't do what?" he muttered, his gaze dropping to your mouth, his breathing turning shallow and ragged as he leaned in closer. his hips subtly pressed forward, trying to force your body into the familiar, addictive submission it always succumbed to. "you want this just as badly as i do. you're shaking right now. let me lock the door and-"
"no!" a hot tear finally spilled over your eyelashes, tracing a humiliating path down your cheek, and the sight of it made jungwon instantly freeze. your chest heaved, the walls you had spent a month building completely crumbling into dust right in front of him. "i can't keep pretending. i can't watch you smile at the interns in the morning, listen to them talk about who you went home with on friday, and then come down here in the dark just so you can use me to burn off your stress."
jungwon’s jaw locked, the muscle pulsing violently under his skin. his grip on your wrist didn't slacken, but he stopped pushing into you, his dark eyes staring down at your face with a jarring intensity that looked almost like panic.
"it's ruining me." you whispered, your voice cracking completely, the raw truth tasting like ash on your tongue. "you get to slide right back into your perfect little suit and walk away like nothing happened, and i'm left sitting at my desk feeling entirely hollowed out. if it's just a casual release for you, fine. find someone else. because it's breaking me, and i'm not going to let you do it anymore."
the silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with the weight of the rules you had just permanently shattered. jungwon didn't move. he didn't give you a polite nod, and he didn't let go of your wrist. he just stared at you, his chest heaving. for a fraction of a second, he looked genuinely caught off guard, but then, the tension in his jaw completely vanished. the momentary panic in his dark eyes melted away, replaced by a calculating amusement that made your stomach violently drop.
jungwon let out a low, breathless chuckle. he didn't pull you in aggressively. instead, his grip on your wrist softened, his thumb slowly stroking over the hammering rhythm of your pulse.
"ruining you." he repeated, the words rolling off his tongue with a terrifyingly casual drawl. his gaze dropped from your tear stained eyes down to your chest, watching the way you were desperately trying to catch your breath. "you're acting like i'm dragging you down here against your will, y/n. but we both know that's a lie."
"jungwon-" you tried to step back, but his hand slid smoothly from your wrist to your hip, his long fingers completely encompassing the curve of your waist, holding you in place with effortless dominance.
"you hate that i smile at the interns? you hate that i don't look at you in the boardroom?" he murmured, leaning in until his lips were hovering just an inch from your ear. his suffocating scent wrapped around you like a vice. "that's just your pride talking, because your body tells a completely different story. you say this is breaking you, but you're shaking so hard you can barely stand. i haven't even touched you properly yet, and you're already completely soaked for me, aren't you?"
a hot, humiliating flush spread across your neck. you wanted to deny it, wanted to push him and scream that he was wrong, but your core was already pulsing with that familiar heat, reacting to the sheer proximity of his body just like a trained animal.
"i'm just giving you exactly what you need." he whispered nonchalantly, his free hand reaching up to casually brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "because we both know you sit at that desk all day, completely distracted, crossing your legs trying to chase the friction. you need me to pull you into these dark rooms. you need me to use you like this, because nobody else is ever going to fuck you the way i do."
he took a deliberate step back, creating a cold space between you. he slid his hands back into his trouser pockets, his expression returning to that flawless, untouchable corporate mask. "so go." jungwon said smoothly, gesturing toward the heavy metal door with a slight tilt of his head. "walk out, go home. but when you're lying in bed tonight, completely unsatisfied, touching yourself to the memory of what i did to you on this exact desk last tuesday... don't send me an email tomorrow begging me to fix it. because if you walk out that door right now, i'm never touching you again."
the silence in the archive room became deafening. you stared at him, fresh tears stinging your eyes, your mind screaming at you to run. he was so utterly callous. he was stripping away every last ounce of your dignity, reducing all your emotional bleeding into a basic, pathetic physical craving. he was gaslighting you, offering you an out that he fully knew you were entirely too weak to take.
because he was right. the thought of going home, of the cold sheets, of never feeling his heavy frame press you into a desk or hearing that venomous rasp against your neck ever again, felt physically agonizing. the addiction was already too deep in your veins. you couldn't survive the withdrawal.
a pathetic sound caught in your throat. the fight completely drained out of your muscles, the resentment suffocated by that blinding, toxic yearning.
you didn't say a word. you just turned around, your legs feeling extremely weak, and walked toward the door. you didn't open the handle. instead, your trembling fingers reached out, blindly finding the deadbolt, and twisted it until the familiar click echoed through the quiet room.
behind you, jungwon let out a dark, satisfied sigh.
"good girl." he murmured, the sharp metallic sound of his belt buckle clicking open signaling the absolute end of your resistance. "now get over here and hike that skirt up."
synopsis: martin does nothing but pass notes in class to cure his boredom, soon one day he believes he has found his longtime pen pal. or the one where martin is down bad…
genre: fake texts, one shot au, non!idols, student au, fluff