════════════════════════════════════

( ℰ🪽 ) —— no divider again bcuz of the pic limit LMFAOO i didnt realize i went over 30 :'(( so for part 2, i'll add those parts that didnt make the cut ! ALSO after i post this, im making the hoon smau part 3 !

perm taglist / my loves ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡ @kienhawon @evangelicai @hyuneskkami @mailovesreading @vikeuchu @coergene @ilofflee @bhunlit

You were already in his bed, wearing only his favorite oversized black shirt that barely reached mid thigh. The moment he closed the door behind him, you moved.You rose to your knees, caught his wrist, and pulled him down onto the mattress with you. Heeseung let out a soft, surprised chuckle, his deep voice rumbling.“Missed me that bad, baby?” he murmured, settling back against the pillows as you climbed over him.

But you didn’t answer with words. Instead, your hand slipped into his sweatpants, wrapping around his half hard length. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering for a second as you stroked him slowly to full hardness. Within moments he was thick and heavy in your palm, veins pulsing under your fingers. You pushed his waistband down just enough, positioned yourself over him, and sank down in one smooth, deliberate motion.

Heeseung’s cock stretched you open, filling you completely until your ass rested against his thighs, every inch buried deep inside your warm, wet heat. No thrusts no bouncing just staying perfectly still with him sheathed to the hilt.

“Fuck—” Heeseung’s voice broke into a low groan, his hands flying to your hips instantly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as if to ground himself. His eyes widened, dark and intense, locking onto yours with that signature leader intensity. His chest rose and fell rapidly, breath already ragged. “Y/N you’re so fucking warm so tight around me right now.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The only sounds were your mingled breathing and the faint wet sound of your bodies adjusting to each other. Heeseung’s cock twitched hard inside you, thickening even more at the sudden enveloping heat. You could feel every ridge, every vein, the way his pulse beat steadily against your inner walls. Your own pussy fluttered involuntarily around him, clenching and releasing in little pulses that made his jaw tighten.

Heeseung’s hands slid up under the shirt you wore his shirt—tracing the curve of your waist, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. “You initiating this?” he whispered, voice dropping into that dangerously low register that always sent shivers down your spine. A slow, predatory smirk tugged at his lips, the one that made fans scream and made your stomach twist with want. “No warning, just sliding down on my cock like you own it my greedy girl I love it.”

He pulled you closer until your chests pressed together, your nipples hardening against him through the thin fabric. His lips found your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, sucking gently at your pulse point. Every tiny shift of your body caused delicious friction—his cock nudging deeper without any real thrusting. Heeseung let out a shaky exhale against your skin.

“Stay still like this for me,” he murmured, one hand moving to cup the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. “I want to feel everything how wet you’re getting how you’re squeezing me.” He flexed his hips in the tiniest circle, barely perceptible, but enough to make you both gasp. “Shit, you feel incredible like velvet fire around my cock.”

Minutes stretched out. Heeseung was always patient in moments like this teasing, savoring, drawing out the pleasure until it bordered on torture. He kept you locked in place with strong arms, his body heat mingling with yours. His free hand roamed lazily: squeezing your ass, tracing your spine, rolling a nipple between his fingers until you whimpered softly. Each sound you made earned you a deep, appreciative groan from him.

“You’re dripping down my balls already,” he observed in that husky tone, voice vibrating against your ear. He reached between your bodies just enough to feel where you were joined, collecting some of your slick on his fingers and bringing them to his mouth. His eyes never left yours as he licked them clean. “Taste so sweet for me all this just from having me inside you?”

The praise made you clench harder around him. Heeseung’s head fell back against the pillow, exposing the sharp line of his jaw and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed thickly. “That’s it keep doing that. Milk my cock while we stay like this.” His restraint was impressive, but you could feel the tension coiling in his muscles—the way his thighs trembled slightly beneath you, the constant subtle twitches of his length buried deep.

He kissed you then—slow, deep, and filthy. His tongue slid against yours in the same unhurried rhythm he used when he wanted to drive you crazy. One hand stayed on your hip, holding you down firmly so you couldn’t ride him even if you tried. The other tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. When he pulled back, a string of saliva connected your lips for a second.

“I’ve thought about this,” he confessed quietly, forehead pressed to yours. “Coming home and having you warm my cock while we talk about our day feeling you pulse around me for hours.” His voice was pure velvet. “You’re perfect so fucking perfect for me.”

Time blurred ten minutes fifteen twenty. Heeseung kept up the intimate conversation, whispering filthy observations mixed with sweet nothings. How your walls fluttered when he praised you. How he could feel you getting wetter with every passing second. How much he loved being this connected, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. Occasionally he’d roll his hips in minute movements just enough to grind against that sensitive spot inside you without breaking the cockwarming stillness.

Your breathing grew heavier, matching his. Sweat began to bead on his chest where your bodies pressed together. Heeseung’s eyes were half lidded, dark with lust, but there was also that soft affection he reserved only for you the way he stroked your cheek with his thumb, the gentle kisses he pressed to your temple.

“You’re shaking,” he noted with a soft laugh, the sound low and affectionate. “Am I that deep, baby? Filling you up so good you can’t even think?” He flexed again, deliberately this time, making his cock jump inside you. The sensation drew a broken moan from your throat. Heeseung’s smirk widened. “Good girl let me hear you.”

The tension built unbearably. Your clit throbbed against his pelvis, aching for friction, but he kept you pinned, savoring the slow burn. Heeseung’s breathing was ragged now, control fraying at the edges. His hands gripped you tighter, almost bruising.

“I don’t know how much longer I can stay still,” he admitted, voice strained. “You feel too fucking good so hot and tight sucking me in like you never want me to leave.” He kissed you again, harder this time, more desperate. His hips gave a small, involuntary thrust upward, pushing him impossibly deeper.

You clenched hard in response, and Heeseung groaned loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “Fuck, do that again.” When you did, his resolve cracked. He rolled you both suddenly, still connected, pinning you beneath his larger frame without ever pulling out. The new position let him press even deeper, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly, elbows braced on either side of your head. His damp hair fell forward, framing his handsome face. “I need to move now need to fuck you properly after feeling you warm me for so long.”

What followed was intense. Heeseung started with slow, deep thrusts pulling out just enough to feel your walls drag along his length before sliding back home. Each stroke was deliberate, savoring the glide. His pace gradually increased, hips snapping with controlled power. The wet sounds of your bodies meeting filled the room, mixed with his low grunts and your moans.

“You started this,” he panted against your neck, biting down gently. “Taking my cock like that the second I walked in such a naughty girl.” One hand slipped between you, thumb circling your clit in tight spirals. “Come for me while I’m inside you want to feel you fall apart around my cock.”

The orgasm hit you hard, walls spasming violently around him. Heeseung cursed, burying his face in your shoulder as he fucked you through it, prolonging the pleasure. His own release followed soon after deep, powerful thrusts that pushed him to the hilt as he spilled inside you, groaning your name in that beautiful, wrecked voice.

Afterwards, he didn’t pull out immediately. Heeseung stayed buried deep, collapsing half on top of you with his weight comforting rather than crushing. He pressed soft kisses to your face, your lips, your eyelids, whispering praises.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “I love when you take control like that. Love feeling so close to you.” His fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin as you both came down, still intimately connected. The afterglow stretched long, warm, and full of quiet affection.

Heeseung eventually shifted to lie on his side, pulling you with him so you stayed spooned together, his cock softening but still nestled inside you. “We’re sleeping like this tonight,” he decided with a sleepy, satisfied smile. “Don’t want to lose this feeling.”

The room grew quiet again, filled only with your synced breathing and the occasional soft kiss. Heeseung held you like you were the most precious thing in his world leader, lover, and the man who had just been completely undone by your bold initiation.

◟✿ jay ˒ The living room in the dorm was dimly lit, the only light coming from the large TV screen paused on Jay’s game. The rest of the members had gone to bed or out, leaving the space quiet except for the low hum of the city outside and the occasional click of the controller. Jay was sprawled on the wide couch in black sweatpants and a loose white tee, one arm draped over the backrest, looking effortlessly handsome with his sharp jawline and focused dark eyes. His hair was slightly tousled from running his fingers through it during the match.

You had been watching him from the doorway for a few minutes, heat pooling low in your belly at the sight of his relaxed posture and the way the fabric of his sweats outlined his thighs. Without warning, you crossed the room, climbed onto the couch, and straddled his lap. Jay’s eyebrows rose in surprise, a small smirk already forming on his lips.

“Hey, what’s—?” he started, but the words died when your hand slipped inside his waistband, pulling his cock free. He was already half hard from the way you’d been looking at him earlier. You stroked him firmly a few times until he was fully erect thick, veined, and heavy in your grip then positioned yourself and sank down in one smooth, deliberate motion.

Jay’s cock stretched you open deliciously, filling every inch until you were seated flush against him, his length buried to the hilt inside your tight, wet cunt. No movement just pure cockwarming.

“Shit—!” Jay’s head slammed back against the couch cushions, a sharp groan tearing from his throat. His hands shot to your waist instantly, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. His eyes flew open wide, dark and blown with lust as he stared at you in shock and raw hunger. “Y/N… fuck, you just— you took me all the way in like that?”

His voice was rough, that slight American accent thickening with arousal. For several long seconds, he didn’t move, simply breathing through the overwhelming sensation of your walls enveloping him completely—hot, slick, and pulsing around his cock. You could feel him twitch and swell even thicker inside you, the head pressing firmly against your deepest point.

Jay let out a shaky, impressed laugh, his chest rising and falling rapidly under you. “Bold as hell initiating cockwarming right in the middle of my game? You’re something else, princess.” His hands slid down to grip your ass possessively, squeezing the soft flesh as he adjusted his posture slightly, spreading his thighs wider so you sank even deeper. The new angle made both of you moan softly.

He looked down between your joined bodies where you were connected, then slowly dragged his gaze back up to your face. “You’re so fucking wet already. I can feel it dripping down my balls.” Jay’s voice dropped lower, husky and teasing. One hand slipped under the hem of the oversized shirt you wore his shirt again and traced up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “No warning just sliding that pretty pussy down on my cock and staying there. You missed me that much huh ?”

You stayed perfectly still, savoring the intimate fullness. Jay’s cock throbbed steadily inside you, matching his quickened heartbeat. He pulled you closer until your chests pressed together, his lips finding yours in a slow, deep kiss that quickly turned filthy. His tongue explored your mouth with the same controlled intensity he brought to everything precise, overwhelming, leaving you breathless.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “We’re doing this properly then,” he murmured, voice vibrating against your skin. “Stay right there don’t move.” His restraint was impressive he didn’t thrust up into you despite the obvious need. Instead, he focused on the connection, rolling his hips in tiny, lazy circles that created the barest friction enough to make your walls flutter around him without breaking the cockwarming stillness.

“God, you feel incredible,” Jay whispered, lips brushing your ear. “So warm and tight… like you were made to warm my cock like this.” His hands roamed everywhere cupping your breasts through the shirt, thumbs circling your hardening nipples until you whimpered. He pinched lightly, drawing a gasp from you that made his cock jump inside your heat. “That’s it squeeze me just like that I want to feel every little pulse.”

The minutes stretched deliciously. Jay was vocal, whispering a constant stream of praise and filth in that low, accented tone that always melted you. “You’re getting wetter every second. Soaking my sweats already.” He reached between you, fingers grazing where you were stretched around him, collecting your slick before bringing it to your lips. “Taste how much you want this.” His eyes darkened as you sucked his fingers clean.

He kissed along your jaw, down your neck, sucking marks into your skin while staying buried deep. Every tiny shift of your body earned a quiet curse from him. “Fuck, princess you’re clenching so hard. Trying to pull me even deeper?” Jay’s self-control was fraying at the edges you could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his abs flexed under you but he held you firmly in place, one arm wrapped around your waist like a steel band.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he confessed between kisses, voice rough. “Practice was long, but coming home to this? You sinking down on me and keeping me warm best surprise ever.” He flexed deliberately, making his cock nudge against that sensitive spot inside you. The sensation drew a broken moan from your throat. Jay smirked against your neck. “Sensitive there, huh? Good. I want you aching for me while we stay like this.”

Fifteen minutes passed twenty. Jay kept the slow burn going, alternating between deep kisses and soft, affectionate ones. His hands never stopped moving—stroking your back, squeezing your thighs, occasionally tilting your hips just enough to grind subtly. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, his white tee clinging slightly to his chest. The room felt hotter, thicker with tension.

“You’re trembling,” he observed, pulling back to look at you with those intense eyes. A cocky, affectionate smile tugged at his lips. “Am I too big like this? Stretching you so full you can’t think straight?” He rolled his hips again in that maddeningly small motion. “I could stay buried in you for hours. Just feeling how perfect you are around me.”

Your clit throbbed against his pelvis, desperate for more friction, but Jay kept you pinned, drawing out the anticipation. His breathing grew ragged, control slipping. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold back,” he admitted, voice strained. “You feel too fucking good. Hot, wet, squeezing my cock like you never want me to leave.”

He kissed you harder then, more desperate, tongue sliding against yours as his hips gave a small involuntary thrust. The movement pushed him impossibly deeper, making you both groan loudly. Jay’s hands gripped your ass tighter. “Fuck it,” he growled softly.

In one fluid motion, he flipped you onto your back on the couch without pulling out, his body covering yours. The new position let him press even deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. Jay braced himself on his elbows, staring down at you with dark, hungry eyes.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice low and authoritative. His damp hair fell forward as he started moving—slow, deep thrusts at first, pulling out just enough to feel your walls drag along every inch before sliding back home. The wet, obscene sounds of your bodies meeting filled the living room.

“You started this,” Jay panted, snapping his hips harder. “Taking my cock the second you wanted it such a greedy princess.” One hand slipped between you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight, perfect circles. “Come on my cock. Want to feel you fall apart while I’m still so deep inside you.”

The pleasure built fast and intense. Your orgasm crashed over you, walls spasming violently around his thick length. Jay cursed loudly, fucking you through it with powerful, controlled strokes. “That’s it—fuck, just like that. So good for me.”

His own release followed soon after. Jay buried himself to the hilt, hips stuttering as he came deep inside you with a low, guttural groan of your name. You felt every pulse, every spurt of warmth filling you.

Afterwards, Jay didn’t pull out right away. He collapsed half on top of you, careful not to crush you, and pressed soft, lazy kisses to your lips, your cheeks, your forehead. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, voice hoarse and satisfied. “Love when you take what you want like that.”

He stayed nestled inside you as he shifted you both to a more comfortable position on the couch, spooning you against his chest. His arms wrapped around you protectively, one hand gently stroking your thigh. “We’re staying like this for a while longer,” he decided with a lazy, content smile. “Don’t want to lose this feeling yet.”

The TV remained paused and forgotten. Jay nuzzled into your neck, whispering sweet nothings mixed with more praise as the afterglow settled over both of you—warm, intimate, and full of quiet affection. His cock softened slowly inside you, but he made no move to separate, content to keep you connected as long as possible.

◟✿ jake ˒ The bedroom was softly lit by a single bedside lamp, casting a warm golden glow over the rumpled sheets. Jake had just returned from a late dance practice, his body tired but still buzzing with leftover energy. He was lying on his back in bed, shirtless in just a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, one arm slung over his eyes as he tried to unwind. His messy brown hair was damp with sweat, and his toned abs rose and fell with steady breaths. The faint scent of his body wash—clean and slightly citrusy lingered in the air.

You had been waiting for him, heart racing with anticipation. The moment he settled in, you moved quietly, climbing onto the bed and straddling his lap without a word. Jake stirred, lifting his arm with a sleepy, affectionate smile. “Hey, baby missed y—”

The words cut off in a sharp inhale as your hand slipped into his sweatpants, freeing his cock. He was already semi hard from the casual closeness, and a few strokes had him fully erect thick, long, and flushed. You positioned yourself over him and sank down slowly but deliberately, taking every inch until your hips met his and his cock was buried completely inside your tight, welcoming cunt.

Jake’s eyes flew open wide, a mix of shock and instant pleasure flashing across his handsome face. “Oh my god—babe!” His voice cracked beautifully, that bright Australian accent thickening with arousal. His hands shot to your thighs instantly, fingers gripping the soft flesh as his back arched slightly off the bed. “Fuck… you’re so warm so fucking warm and tight around me right now.”

For a long moment, he just stared up at you, lips parted, chest heaving. A bright blush crept up his neck and across his cheeks, but his eyes sparkled with pure lust and adoration. His cock twitched hard inside you, swelling even thicker as your walls fluttered and adjusted to his size. You could feel every ridge, every vein pulsing against your inner walls, the head pressed deep.

Jake let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, the sound warm and husky. “You just… slid down on me like that? No warning, nothing?” He bit his lip, eyes darkening as he looked down to where your bodies were joined. “Jesus, princess…you feel incredible like heaven. I love when you surprise me like this.”

His hands slid up your thighs to your waist, pulling you down flush against him so your chests pressed together. The oversized shirt you wore his, of course rode up, and he slipped his hands underneath, palms warm and slightly calloused from practice as they roamed your bare skin. “Stay like this,” he whispered, voice already rough. “Don’t move yet. I want to feel all of you every little squeeze.”

Jake was affectionate even in the filthiest moments. He pulled you into a deep kiss slow and sweet at first, full of that warmth, then growing more heated as his tongue tangled with yours. His hips gave one tiny, involuntary roll, nudging deeper without breaking the stillness. The sensation drew matching gasps from both of you.

“You’re already so wet,” he murmured against your lips, forehead resting against yours. “I can feel it. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? My sweet girl initiating cockwarming the second I get home.” His smile was bright and playful, but his voice carried that low, needy edge. One hand cupped the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair while the other squeezed your ass possessively, holding you in place.

He stayed perfectly still for long minutes, savoring the intimate connection. His cock throbbed steadily inside your heat, and every time your walls clenched around him whether from pleasure or on purpose he let out a soft, wrecked groan. “That’s it… just like that keep pulsing around me. Feels so good, baby.”

Jake’s hands never stopped moving gentle but exploratory. He traced your spine under the shirt, cupped your breasts and rolled your nipples between his fingers until they pebbled. He kissed everywhere he could reach your lips, your jaw, the sensitive spot beneath your ear, your collarbone. Between kisses, he whispered constant praise in that addictive accent.

“You’re so perfect for me. So tight and hot like you were made to warm my cock.” He flexed deliberately inside you, making his length jump and nudge that sweet spot. The tiny movement sent sparks through both of you. “Mmm, hear that little whimper? I love it love how full you feel with me inside.”

The cockwarming stretched on Jake’s usual playful energy mixed with deepening desire. Sweat began to glisten on his chest where your bodies were pressed together. His breathing grew heavier, but he held you firmly, refusing to let you ride him yet. “Not yet,” he’d murmur with a teasing grin whenever you shifted. “I want to enjoy this a little longer. Just feeling you around me… so wet and snug.”

He reached between your bodies once, fingers grazing your stretched folds where you took him so deeply. Collecting some of your slick, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, eyes locked on yours the entire time. “Tastes so sweet all this because my cock is buried in you? God, I’m lucky.”

Your clit throbbed against his pelvis, aching for friction, but Jake kept the slow burn alive. He rolled his hips in maddeningly small circles barely any movement, but enough to grind subtly and keep the pleasure building. “You’re shaking already,” he observed softly, affection clear in his voice. “Am I that deep, baby? Stretching you so good you’re trembling on top of me?”

The tension coiled tighter. Jake’s control was fraying despite his sweet demeanor. His thighs tensed beneath you, abs flexing as he fought the urge to thrust. “I don’t think I can stay still much longer,” he admitted, voice strained and husky. “You feel too fucking amazing. Hot, wet, squeezing me like you never want me to pull out.”

He kissed you desperately then, tongue sliding deep as his hips gave a small involuntary buck. The movement pushed him impossibly deeper, drawing loud moans from both of you. Jake’s hands gripped your hips tighter. “Fuck… okay, I need you.”

In one smooth motion, he rolled you both over without pulling out, settling on top while staying fully sheathed. The new position let gravity press him even deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. Jake braced himself on his elbows, messy hair falling forward as he looked down at you with bright, lust-filled eyes and that heart-melting smile.

“Eyes on me, beautiful,” he whispered, starting to move slow, deep thrusts at first. He pulled back just enough for your walls to drag along his length before sliding home again, the wet sounds of your connection filling the quiet room. His pace was enthusiastic and passionate, exactly like Jake—full of energy and focus on your pleasure.

“You started this,” he panted, lips brushing yours between thrusts. “Climbing on me and taking my cock so perfectly such a good girl.” One hand slipped between you, thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing perfect, tight circles in time with his strokes. “Come for me while I’m this deep. Want to feel you milking my cock.”

The orgasm hit you hard and fast, walls spasming violently around his thick cock. Jake groaned loudly, the sound raw and beautiful as he fucked you through it, hips snapping with controlled power. “Yes—fuck, just like that. So tight, baby so perfect.”

His own climax followed soon after. Jake buried himself to the hilt, hips stuttering as he came deep inside you with a long, throaty moan of your name. You felt every pulse, every warm spurt filling you as he trembled above you.

Afterwards, Jake didn’t pull out. He collapsed gently on top of you, careful with his weight, and buried his face in your neck. Soft, lazy kisses peppered your skin your shoulder, your jaw, your lips. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, voice hoarse and full of affection. “I love when you take initiative like that feeling you warm me… best way to end the night.”

He shifted carefully, pulling you with him so you were spooned against his chest, his cock still nestled softly inside you. His arms wrapped around you securely, one hand gently stroking your thigh and hip. “We’re staying like this,” he decided with a sleepy, satisfied grin, nuzzling into your hair. “Don’t want to lose this closeness yet feels too good to let go”

The room fell into comfortable quiet, filled with your synced breathing and occasional soft whispers. Jake pressed gentle kisses to the back of your neck, murmuring how much he loved you, how perfect you felt, how he could stay connected like this forever. His body heat enveloped you, the afterglow warm and lingering as you both drifted toward sleep intimately joined, content, and utterly satisfied.

◟✿ sunghoon ˒ The dorm’s private gym corner in the basement level was quiet and dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a single overhead LED strip that cast cool, bluish tones across the mirrored walls. Sunghoon had stayed back after the others left, working on his core strength and flexibility routines that kept his figure skating precision sharp even in idol life. Sweat glistened on his skin, his black tank top clinging to his lean, sculpted torso and his loose training shorts riding low on his narrow hips. His dark hair was damp, pushed back from his forehead, and his sharp jaw was set in concentration as he finished a set of planks, breathing controlled and steady.

You had slipped down quietly to find him, drawn by the low sounds of his exertion. The air smelled of clean sweat and the faint citrus of his post workout spray. Without announcing yourself, you waited until he rolled onto his back to stretch his hip flexors, legs bent and slightly apart. That was your moment. You moved swiftly, straddling his waist and tugging his shorts and briefs down just enough to free his cock.

Sunghoon’s eyes snapped open, dark and intense, as your hand stroked him quickly to full hardness long, thick, and curving slightly upward. Before he could form a question, you lined him up and sank down in one fluid, deliberate glide, enveloping every inch until you were fully seated, your ass flush against his pelvis. His cock was buried to the hilt inside your slick heat.

A sharp hiss escaped Sunghoon’s lips, his hands instinctively flying to your hips, fingers pressing hard into your skin. His usual cool, princely composure shattered in an instant. “Y/N—” His voice came out strained, lower than usual, almost a growl. His eyes widened, pupils dilating rapidly as the overwhelming sensation hit him your walls hugging him so tightly, so warmly, pulsing around his length without any movement.

He stayed frozen beneath you for several heartbeats, chest heaving, abs contracting visibly under the tank top. The position him on his back on the cool gym mat, you perched perfectly on his cock made everything feel impossibly deep. “You… you really just took me like that? Right here?” Surprise laced his tone, but it quickly melted into dark arousal. A faint blush colored his sharp cheekbones, contrasting his typically icy visuals.

Sunghoon’s hands trembled slightly as they gripped you, holding you down so neither of you could shift. His cock throbbed powerfully inside your pussy, swelling thicker at the sudden intimate embrace. You could feel every ridge, the subtle curve pressing against your front wall, his heartbeat pulsing through the vein along his shaft. The mirrored walls around you reflected the scene back endlessly your bodies joined, his long legs stretched out beneath you.

“Fuck… you’re burning hot around me,” he whispered, voice husky and amazed. He licked his lips, gaze dropping to where you were stretched so obscenely around him. One hand slid up your thigh, pushing the hem of your thin dress higher, exposing more skin. “No prep, no talking… just sinking onto my cock after my workout so fucking bold tonight.”

Sunghoon didn’t immediately pull you down for kisses. He was more visual, more sensory. He kept you upright on him, eyes roaming your body as he adjusted his breathing. His fingers traced slow patterns on your thighs, then higher, thumbs brushing dangerously close to your clit without touching. The stillness amplified everything the faint twitch of his cock, the way your walls fluttered in response, the shared heat building between your connected bodies.

“Stay exactly like this,” he commanded softly, that deep, velvety tone sending shivers through you. He flexed his hips in the tiniest upward tilt, barely noticeable but enough to nudge deeper, drawing a gasp from both of you. “I want to feel how wet you get just from holding me inside. Look at the mirror.” He nodded toward the wall. “Watch how perfectly you take me.”

You both turned your heads. The reflection was erotic Sunghoon’s lean, powerful body beneath you, sweat making his skin glow, his cock disappearing into your body. He groaned low at the sight, his free hand reaching to squeeze your ass, spreading you slightly for a better view. “So tight gripping me like you’re afraid I’ll disappear. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Minutes passed in charged silence broken only by soft breaths. Sunghoon was masterful at restraint years of skating discipline showing in how he held perfectly still while his body screamed for friction. But he wasn’t silent. He murmured observations in that precise, low voice, each word dripping with lust.

“Your pussy is dripping down my shaft already. I can feel it coating my balls.” He shifted one leg slightly, bending his knee to change the angle just enough to press against a new spot inside you. The subtle movement made you clench hard. Sunghoon’s head tipped back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as he swallowed thickly. “Again do that again.”

You obeyed, and he rewarded you with a rare, devastating smile half smirk, half genuine pleasure. His hands moved with purpose now one staying on your hip to anchor you, the other slipping under your dress to cup your breast, rolling the nipple between cool fingers. “Sensitive tonight. Everything feels heightened because we’re not moving, doesn’t it?” He pinched lightly, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every reaction.

The cockwarming dragged on deliciously. Sweat from his workout mixed with new beads of arousal on his skin. The gym mat stuck slightly to his back, but he didn’t care. Sunghoon’s usual aloofness cracked further with every passing second his breathing grew ragged, and his thighs tensed beneath you like coiled springs.

“You’re so warm and slick it’s driving me insane,” he confessed, voice breaking into a whisper. He reached up, pulling you down until your chests met, but still no real thrusting. Instead, he wrapped both arms around your waist, holding you impossibly close. His lips finally found your neck—not soft kisses, but deliberate, sucking bites that would leave faint marks. “I train for hours to stay controlled, but you come in here and undo all of it in seconds.”

He guided your head to his shoulder, letting you feel his rapid heartbeat against your cheek while his cock continued its constant, throbbing presence inside you. Every tiny involuntary clench from you earned a quiet curse or a sharp inhale. Sunghoon’s hand trailed down your back, fingers dancing along your spine before gripping your ass again, spreading you wider in the reflection.

“Look how deep I am,” he murmured, voice dark. “You’re taking all of me so well my perfect girl.” The praise was sparse but potent, delivered in that intensity. He flexed again, this time holding the tension longer, letting his curved tip grind subtly against your g-spot without pulling out. The pressure built unbearably, your clit aching where it pressed against his pelvis.

Your whimpers grew louder. Sunghoon’s control finally frayed. “I can’t… I need to feel more.” In a swift, powerful move, he rolled you both sideways on the mat, keeping his cock fully sheathed. Now on your sides facing each other, legs tangled, he hooked one of your thighs over his hip. The new angle allowed even deeper penetration, his body curving into yours.

Sunghoon stared into your eyes, foreheads nearly touching. “You initiated this. Now take what comes next.” He began moving—slow, rolling thrusts that never fully withdrew, keeping the connection intimate and constant. Each stroke was precise, controlled, hitting every sensitive spot with skater-like grace and power. The wet, slick sounds echoed softly in the empty gym space.

His hand slipped between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, expert circles. “Come on my cock,” he demanded quietly, eyes never leaving yours. “I want to feel you squeeze me while I’m this deep.” The intensity built fast his lean muscles flexing, hips snapping with increasing force while still somehow maintaining that connected depth.

Your orgasm crashed over you suddenly, walls convulsing hard around his thick length. Sunghoon groaned, deep and guttural, fucking you through the waves with focused thrusts. “Yes… just like that so good—fuck.” His own release followed moments later. He buried himself as deep as possible, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, warm pulses filling you while he held you tight against him.

Afterwards, Sunghoon stayed inside, not pulling out. He rolled onto his back again, bringing you on top once more, his arms wrapped securely around you. His breathing slowed gradually, fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. The cool gym air contrasted with your heated bodies.

“That was unexpected,” he said softly, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. His voice regained some of its usual calm, but affection warmed it. “I like when you catch me off guard. Makes me feel alive.” He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your temple, then your lips lingering and tender.

He didn’t move to separate. Instead, he reached for a nearby towel, draping it over your joined lower bodies casually. “We’ll stay like this until I say otherwise. I’m not ready to lose how warm you feel yet.” His hand stroked your hair, the other resting possessively on your ass, keeping you pinned.

The mirrors reflected your entwined forms in the low light. Sunghoon’s usual aura softened into quiet intimacy. He whispered occasional praises how perfect you felt, how he’d think about this during his next practice while his cock softened slowly inside you, still nestled comfortably. The afterglow stretched long, the gym quiet except for your breathing, creating a private world just for the two of you.

Eventually, he helped you up carefully, still connected, and carried you toward the elevator back to the main dorm levels, your legs wrapped around him. “Shower together later?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow, already planning to extend the closeness.

◟✿ sunoo ˒ The soft glow of string lights wrapped around the headboard filled Sunoo’s room with a warm, pinkish hue, creating a cozy, almost dreamy atmosphere. It was well past midnight, and the rest of the dorm had settled into silence after a long day of rehearsals. Sunoo had been unwinding in his favorite way sitting cross legged in the middle of his bed, a fluffy blanket draped over his lap, humming softly to himself while applying a sheet mask to his face. His skin was dewy from the recent cleanse, and he wore a loose white tank top paired with soft black shorts that rode up his thighs. His hair was slightly tousled, falling cutely over his forehead, and his expressive eyes sparkled with that signature Sunoo brightness even as he relaxed.

You entered quietly, drawn by the gentle melody he was humming one of their upcoming tracks. He glanced up with a bright smile, peeling the edge of the mask. “Hey~ You’re still up? Come here, I’ll share the mask—” But you had other plans. You crawled onto the bed, gently pushing his shoulders back until he was propped against the pile of pillows. Before he could react fully, you tugged his shorts down just enough, revealing his smooth, pretty cock. A few teasing strokes had him hardening quickly elegant and sensitive, responding beautifully to your touch.

Sunoo’s eyes widened in surprise, the sheet mask crinkling as his mouth formed a perfect ‘O’. You straddled him smoothly, pulling your own sleep shorts aside, and sank down onto him in one slow, intentional glide. Inch by inch, you took him until he was fully nestled inside your warm, slick walls, your hips flush against his. Pure cockwarming—no immediate movement, just the intimate, throbbing connection.

“Ahh—! Y/N…” Sunoo’s voice came out in a breathy, melodic gasp, higher-pitched than usual with shock and pleasure. His hands flew to your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your top as his whole body tensed beneath you. The sheet mask slipped slightly on his cheek, but he didn’t bother fixing it. His cheeks flushed a deep pink almost instantly, that adorable blush spreading down his neck. “You… you really just sat on me like that? While I’m doing skincare?” A soft, disbelieving giggle escaped him, mixing cuteness with growing arousal.

His cock twitched vividly inside you, thickening and pulsing as your heat enveloped him completely. You could feel every subtle ridge, the way he fit so perfectly, like he was made for this closeness. Sunoo’s breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling under the thin tank top. He stared up at you with those large, expressive doe eyes, a mix of playful shock and deep want shining through.

“Wow… you’re so warm and tight right now,” he whispered, voice turning husky yet still retaining that sweet, bell like quality. He bit his plush lower lip, trying to stay composed, but the way his thighs shifted slightly underneath you betrayed him. Instead of immediately pulling you down for kisses, Sunoo reached up and gently adjusted his sheet mask with one hand, the other staying firmly on your hip to hold you still.

He let out another soft laugh, but it dissolved into a quiet moan as your walls fluttered around him involuntarily. The position him half reclined against pillows, you fully seated in his lap under the pretty string lights felt intimate and almost romantic. Sunoo’s free hand trailed up your side, slipping under your top to caress your bare skin with feather light touches. “Don’t move yet, okay? Let me feel you all of you holding me like this.”

True to his playful nature, Sunoo kept the moment light even as heat built between you. He tilted his head, studying your face with sparkling eyes while staying perfectly still. His cock continued to throb steadily inside your pussy, the sensation amplified by the lack of movement. “It feels like you’re hugging me from the inside,” he murmured sweetly, then giggled again when you clenched on purpose. “That’s cheating but I like it.”

Minutes ticked by in this dreamy haze. Sunoo was vocal and affectionate, filling the quiet room with whispered compliments and little hums. He finally peeled the sheet mask off completely, tossing it aside, revealing his glowing skin. “Look at us,” he said, nodding toward the mirror across the room that reflected your connected forms under the soft lights. “You look so pretty on me like this so full.”

His hands explored gently tracing your curves, cupping your breasts through the fabric, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they peaked. Each touch was tender yet teasing, never rushing. He leaned forward slightly to nuzzle your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your collarbone while his hips remained motionless. The only “movement” came from subtle flexes—him deliberately pulsing his cock inside you, making you both gasp.

“You’re getting wetter I can feel it trickling down,” Sunoo observed in a hushed, almost reverent tone, his voice like velvet. “All because my cock is just sitting warm inside you? that’s so hot.” He sucked a small mark just below your ear, then pulled back to watch your reactions, his own face flushed and eyes half lidded with pleasure. The skincare scent mixed with the growing musk of arousal, creating an oddly intimate atmosphere unique to him.

Sunoo’s usual bright energy simmered into something deeper and needier. He started humming again softly a gentle melody that vibrated through his chest into yours while one hand slipped between your bodies without breaking the seal. His fingers hovered near your clit, teasing circles in the air just close enough to make you ache, but he didn’t touch fully yet. “Patience,” he teased with a cute pout, even as sweat beaded on his forehead. “I want to remember every second of you warming me so nicely.”

Your whimpers made his resolve waver. Sunoo’s breathing grew uneven, his plush lips parting as he fought the urge to thrust. “You feel too good so silky and hot. I could stay like this forever, just talking and feeling you squeeze me.” He finally cupped your face with both hands, pulling you into a slow, deep kiss. It was sweet at first then turned passionate, tongues gliding lazily in time with the subtle throbbing between your legs.

The tension coiled tighter. Sunoo’s thighs trembled beneath you, his lean body taut with restraint. “I’m trying so hard to be good,” he confessed against your mouth, voice breaking into a whine. “But you’re clenching so much it’s making me throb.” He rolled his hips in the smallest possible circle, grinding subtly against your front wall without pulling out. The motion drew a shared moan, the string lights casting shifting shadows across your skin.

Your clit pressed insistently against his pelvis, begging for friction. Sunoo noticed, his eyes darkening with desire while retaining that playful sparkle. “My baby needs more?” He finally let his fingers find your clit, rubbing slow, precise circles that matched the melody still humming in his throat. The dual sensation his cock buried deep and unmoving, plus the targeted touch pushed you closer to the edge.

Sunoo’s control snapped elegantly. “Okay I can’t hold back anymore.” With surprising strength, he shifted you both while staying fully sheathed, turning so you were on your back with him hovering above, still connected. The new angle let him press even deeper, his pretty face flushed and hovering close to yours. The blanket tangled around your legs, adding to the cozy mess.

He started moving slow, rolling thrusts that kept the intimacy intact, never fully withdrawing. Each stroke was graceful and rhythmic, like his dance moves translated into pleasure. “You started this surprise,” Sunoo panted softly, his voice melodic even now, “sinking onto me while I was masked up so naughty and cute.” His hips snapped a little sharper, hitting that perfect spot consistently.

One hand braced beside your head while the other continued teasing your clit. “Come for me like this,” he encouraged, eyes locked on yours with that intense yet loving gaze only. “I want to feel you pulse around my cock while it’s so deep.”

The orgasm washed over you in warm waves, your walls clamping down hard on his length. Sunoo moaned beautifully high and sweet fucking you through it with precise, passionate strokes. “Yes… ahh, just like that. You’re squeezing me so perfectly.” His own climax followed quickly, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside you with a long, breathy whimper of your name, filling you with warmth.

Afterwards, Sunoo stayed buried inside, collapsing gently onto you with his face tucked into your neck. He pressed dozens of tiny, affectionate kisses across your skin, giggling breathlessly. “That was amazing I didn’t expect my night to end like this, but I’m so happy.” His voice was soft and satisfied, full of that signature sunshine even post-orgasm.

He rolled carefully to the side, pulling you with him so you remained spooned together, his softening cock still nestled comfortably inside your heat. The string lights twinkled above as he wrapped both arms around you, one leg hooked over yours to keep you close. “We’re sleeping just like this,” he declared cutely, nuzzling your hair. “I don’t want to pull out yet. You feel too warm and nice like my personal heater.”

Sunoo continued humming softly, his fingers drawing hearts on your arm as the afterglow wrapped around you both. He whispered sweet praises how much he loved your boldness, how perfect the connection felt, how he’d smile thinking about this during tomorrow’s schedule. The room filled with quiet contentment, his bright personality making the filthy act feel loving and special. No rush to separate, just prolonged closeness under the pretty lights, bodies joined and hearts synced.

◟✿ jungwon ˒ The dorm’s small home office nook off the main living area was quiet under the soft glow of a desk lamp. It was deep into the night, long after the other members had retreated to their rooms. Jungwon, ever the responsible leader, sat at the wooden table with his laptop open, reviewing tomorrow’s schedule and scribbling notes on a notepad. He wore a simple black hoodie and gray sweat shorts, his dark hair slightly messy from running his fingers through it in concentration. His sharp, cat like eyes scanned the screen with focused intensity, but his shoulders carried that subtle tiredness only you could notice. A half empty mug of herbal tea sat beside him, steam long gone.

You had been watching him from the doorway, admiring the way he carried the weight of the group with such quiet grace. Without speaking, you approached from behind, sliding your arms around his shoulders first. Jungwon turned his head with a soft smile, about to greet you, but you moved faster. You slipped onto his lap facing him, straddling his thighs right there at the table. Before he could set his pen down, your hand dipped into his shorts, stroking his cock from soft to fully hard in quick, practiced motions thick, veined, and curving just right.

Jungwon’s breath hitched sharply. “Y/N, what are you—” The words dissolved into a low, surprised groan as you pushed his shorts aside and sank down onto him in one steady, deliberate motion. You took him all the way in, your slick walls enveloping every inch until you were fully seated in his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside your warm heat. No movement. Just cockwarming, right there at the desk with his laptop still glowing behind you.

His eyes widened, pupils blowing wide in the dim light. “Oh wow,” Jungwon breathed, his voice that perfect mix of youthful and commanding. His hands instinctively gripped your hips, fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your oversized tee. He sat perfectly still, processing the sudden velvet grip surrounding him. His cock twitched powerfully inside you, swelling thicker as your pussy fluttered and adjusted around his length. You could feel the subtle curve pressing firmly against your front wall, his pulse beating steadily deep within.

For a long moment, Jungwon just stared at you, cheeks flushing a soft pink that contrasted his leader aura. A small, breathless chuckle escaped him, low and slightly disbelieving. “Right here? While I’m working on schedules?” His tone held fond exasperation, but his dark eyes gleamed with instant heat. “You really chose now to warm me like this so sudden and bold.”

He leaned back slightly in the chair, careful not to dislodge you, the wooden seat creaking softly under your combined weight. The new position him seated at the table, you fully impaled on his cock with your legs wrapped around his waist made everything feel incredibly intimate and risky, the open nook adding a thrill of possible discovery. Jungwon’s hands slid under your shirt, palms warm against your bare back as he pulled you closer until your chests touched. “You’re so wet already,” he murmured, voice dropping into a husky whisper. “Sliding down on me without any warning my sneaky kitten.”

Jungwon’s response was measured yet intensely focused. He didn’t thrust or grind immediately. Instead, he held you there, savoring the deep connection while his laptop screen dimmed behind you. His fingers traced slow, soothing circles on your lower back, then lower to cup your ass, holding you flush so not even a centimeter of his cock escaped your heat. “Stay still for me,” he said softly, almost like a gentle order. “I want to feel every pulse. How you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now.”

The cockwarming stretched in charged silence. Jungwon’s discipline as leader showed in his restraint he remained almost motionless, only allowing tiny, controlled flexes of his cock inside you. Each deliberate throb made you both inhale sharply. “Feel that?” he whispered against your ear, lips brushing the shell. “That’s what you do to me. Just sitting here, warm and tight around my cock it’s driving me crazy in the best way.”

He turned his head to nuzzle your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your throat while one hand slipped between your bodies to rest just above where you were joined, feeling the heat radiating there. No direct touching yet, just heightening awareness. “You’re dripping onto my shorts,” he observed quietly, a hint of teasing amusement in his voice. “All this slick just from warming me at the table?”

The desk lamp cast soft shadows across his sharp features as he continued light conversation mixed with filth, his tone calm yet increasingly strained. He occasionally glanced at the laptop screen, pretending to check a note, but his attention was entirely on the way your walls hugged him. “This schedule can wait,” he decided, closing the lid with one hand without shifting you. “You’re more important right now.”

Jungwon’s hands roamed with purpose cupping your breasts under the shirt, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened. He rolled them gently, then a little firmer, drawing soft whimpers from you. “So responsive,” he praised, voice low and velvety. “Every time you clench, I feel it all the way up my spine. You’re going to make me lose focus completely.” Sweat began to form on his brow, his hoodie suddenly feeling too warm. He tugged it off one-handed, revealing his toned torso, then pulled you tighter against his bare chest.

The position allowed for subtle shifts. Jungwon tilted his hips minimally in the chair, changing the angle just enough to nudge a new sensitive spot inside you without breaking the cockwarming stillness. The motion made your clit grind lightly against his pelvis, sending sparks through both of you. “There,” he murmured with a small, satisfied smile. “Feel how deep I am? Filling you up so well while we sit here like nothing’s happening.”

Your breathing grew heavier, matching his. Jungwon’s cat-like eyes darkened, restraint fraying at the edges despite his composed exterior. His thighs tensed beneath you, muscles flexing as he fought the urge to move. “You’re trembling on me,” he noted, one hand stroking your thigh soothingly while the other gripped your waist. “So needy already. My strong, independent baby initiating this…it’s adorable and so hot.”

The tension built unbearably. Jungwon’s cock throbbed constantly now, leaking inside you. He captured your lips in a deep kiss, then turning hungry, tongue sliding against yours with growing desperation. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I can’t stay still much longer,” he confessed, voice rougher. “You feel too incredible. Hot, wet, wrapped around every inch of me.”

With a quiet groan, Jungwon pushed the chair back from the table. Still fully connected, he stood carefully, lifting you with surprising strength. Your legs tightened around his waist as he carried you the few steps to the nearby couch in the nook, lowering you onto it on your back without ever pulling out. The new position him hovering above you, cock buried deep allowed better leverage.

“Eyes on me,” Jungwon commanded softly, that natural leader tone sending a thrill through you. He began to move slow, deep rolls of his hips that kept him mostly sheathed, grinding rather than pounding at first. Each thrust was precise, hitting that perfect curve against your walls. The wet sounds of your connection filled the quiet space, obscene against the earlier silence of schedules.

“You surprised me tonight,” he panted, hips snapping a little harder. “Taking what you want while I was trying to be responsible such a bratty leader’s girl.” One hand braced beside your head while the other slipped between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing firm, expert circles. His pace built steadily, powerful yet controlled, exactly like Jungwon focused entirely on your pleasure.

The orgasm hit you intensely, walls convulsing hard around his thick cock. Jungwon moaned low, burying his face in your neck as he fucked you through it, thrusts deepening. “That’s it squeeze me just like that so good for me.” His own release followed swiftly. He pushed to the hilt, hips stuttering as he came deep inside you with a quiet, guttural groan of your name, warm pulses filling you completely.

Afterwards, Jungwon stayed buried deep, collapsing carefully over you with his weight comforting. He pressed tender kisses to your face, your lips, your eyelids, his breathing gradually slowing. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, voice hoarse but full of affection. “I love when you pull me away from work like this. reminds me I need balance too.”

◟✿ niki ˒ The dim glow of Niki’s gaming setup illuminated the corner of his room. He was slouched in his ergonomic chair, long legs stretched out under the desk, wearing only black basketball shorts and an oversized hoodie. Headphones sat around his neck as he laughed into the phone call with Jake, who was away visiting family and catching up on random stories. The speaker was on, Jake’s cheerful Aussie voice filling the quiet space while Niki played with a fidget toy in his free hand.

“Yeah, hyung, the new choreography is brutal on the knees. I keep telling the choreographer we need more breaks—” Ni-ki’s words cut off mid sentence as you quietly entered and approached him from the front.

His eyes flicked up, a playful smirk already forming, assuming you were just there to bother him like usual. But you didn’t give him time to react properly. You tugged his shorts down just enough to free his cock, already half hard from the casual laziness of the late hour. A few firm strokes later, he was fully erect long, thick, and flushed. Without breaking eye contact, you straddled his lap, pulled your panties aside, and sank straight down onto him in one smooth, relentless motion.

All of him disappeared inside you in seconds, your walls stretching around his impressive length until you were flush against his pelvis, fully seated on his cock while he was still on the phone.

Niki’s entire body jerked. His free hand shot to your hip, gripping hard, knuckles whitening. A choked sound escaped him before he could stop it. “—uh, yeah, I’m still here, hyung,” he managed, voice suddenly deeper and strained. His sharp eyes locked onto yours with a mix of shock, panic, and burning heat. His cock pulsed wildly inside you, thickening even more at the unexpected, scorching grip of your pussy.

Jake’s voice continued casually on the speaker. “You okay? You sound weird.”

Niki swallowed thickly, biting the inside of his cheek. You stayed perfectly still, impaled on him, the fullness overwhelming in the most delicious way. The risk of the ongoing call made everything sharper. “Just… stubbed my toe on the desk keep going,” he lied, forcing a breathy laugh. His long fingers dug into your thigh under the desk, a silent warning and plea at the same time.

You clenched around him deliberately. Niki’s head tipped back against the chair, eyes fluttering shut for a second as he fought to stay composed. The new position him seated upright in the gaming chair, you in his lap facing him, bodies joined while Jake chatted away felt dangerously intimate. His cock throbbed rhythmically against your walls, the subtle curve pressing right into a sensitive spot that made your breath hitch quietly.

“Shit you’re evil,” he mouthed silently at you, not daring to speak it aloud. Sweat already beaded on his forehead. He tried to focus on the call, nodding along to whatever Jake was saying about food recommendations, but his free hand roamed your body under your shirt instead. Long fingers traced your ribs, then cupped your breast, thumb brushing your nipple in slow, teasing circles that matched none of the calm tone he forced into his voice.

Every tiny shift of your hips even the involuntary clenches made his jaw clench. “Yeah, that place sounds good, hyung. We should go when you’re back,” Niki replied, but his voice had dropped an octave, husky and rough around the edges. You could feel him leaking inside you, the warmth spreading as your arousal coated his length and dripped down onto his shorts.

The call dragged on. Jake kept talking, completely oblivious. Niki’s usual boundless energy was now channeled into pure restraint. He mouthed filthy things at you between responses “So fucking wet,” “You’re gonna pay for this,” and “Don’t you dare move yet.” His long legs trembled slightly under you, muscles taut from holding still. The chair creaked faintly whenever he involuntarily flexed his cock deep inside your heat.

You leaned forward, resting your head against his shoulder, lips brushing his neck. Niki’s breath stuttered audibly. “Sorry dropped something,” he quickly told Jake, covering for the noise. One of his hands slipped between your bodies, not to touch your clit, but to press lightly just above where you were stretched around him, feeling the obscene bulge of his cock inside you. The pressure made you both shudder.

Minutes felt like hours. The cockwarming was torturous in the best way no big movements, just the constant, throbbing fullness while Niki multitasked on the call. His hoodie suddenly felt too hot he tugged at the collar with his teeth, eyes half lidded and dark as he stared at you. The fairy lights you’d helped him string earlier twinkled softly, casting shifting colors across his flushed face and sharp jawline.

Finally, Jake said something about calling it a night. “Alright dude don’t stay up too late gaming.”

“Yeah… yeah, I won’t,” Niki rasped. The second the call ended, he ripped the headphones off and tossed the phone onto the desk with a clatter. Both hands gripped your ass immediately, squeezing hard.

“You absolute menace,” he growled, voice raw and no longer restrained. A wicked, breathless grin broke across his face. “Sitting on my cock the entire time I was talking to Jake? I almost moaned your name, you know that?” He rolled his hips upward in one sharp, controlled thrust, driving himself impossibly deeper. The sudden friction after so much stillness ripped a moan from both of you.

Niki didn’t flip you or move to the bed. Instead, he stayed right there in the chair, using his long legs and strong core for leverage. He guided you into a slow, grinding rhythm deep, circular rolls that kept him buried almost completely while hitting every sensitive angle. His height advantage let him lean in and bite at your collarbone, sucking marks that would be hidden by clothes tomorrow.

“Feel how deep I am?” he panted against your skin, voice playful yet wrecked. “You took all of me while I was trying to sound normal. So fucking tight and sloppy now.” One hand finally moved to your clit, rubbing fast, messy circles with those long fingers. The wet sounds of your connection were loud in the now silent room obscene and slick.

He kept the pace torturously controlled at first, savoring the way you fluttered and clenched after the long wait. “You’re shaking already,” he teased, nipping your earlobe. “Was it the risk? Knowing Jake hyung could’ve heard me lose it?” His thrusts grew sharper, more energetic, hips snapping up to meet you each time you sank down. The chair rolled slightly on the floor from the force.

The buildup was intense and different no soft kisses or long praise sessions like the others. Just raw, teasing energy mixed with pure need. Niki’s stamina showed as he fucked up into you relentlessly while keeping you anchored in his lap.

“Come on,” he urged, voice dropping into that deep timbre. “Let me feel you come while I’m still so full inside you. Right here where I was talking to hyung five minutes ago.”

Your orgasm crashed hard, walls spasming violently around his thick length. Niki cursed loudly thrusting through it with powerful strokes, drawing out every wave. His own release hit seconds later he buried himself to the hilt, long body shuddering as he came deep inside you, hot pulses filling you while he groaned your name against your neck.

Afterwards, Niki didn’t pull out. He slumped back in the chair, arms wrapped loosely around you, still buried deep. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, a lazy, satisfied smirk on his lips. “That was insane best worst idea ever.” He pressed a surprisingly soft kiss to your temple, then another to your lips lingering and warm.

But that had only triggered their wrath, the vampires spreading blood and desolation wherever they went in search of vengeance for their lost love. When the hatred subsided and the longing set in, only then did they set out to find their soulmate again.

They knew that sooner or later, she would return to life in the form of a new woman on this Earth, and they would be ready to find her and do everything to protect her and make her theirs. They didn't stay in the same place for more than a few years to avoid arousing suspicion, and they killed most of those who were too curious about them.

That's why they found themselves in the heart of Transylvania, where several centuries earlier, their love had died. They felt her presence every time they got closer to her, and the time had come, they had finally found her.

"Is this a joke?"

The vampires stood before an old abbey, a place of God. This was quite ironic given what they had become, abandoning life for chaos. Heeseung, the oldest among them, stepped forward to knock on the wooden door. A few moments later, the door opened to a suspicious old abbess.

"Yes? Who are you?"

"Sorry to bother you, sister, we are looking for someone." The abbess's gaze seemed to light up.

"Are you the doctors?"

"The doctors?" Jake repeated.

"We have been expecting doctors for several days for the case they are supposed to handle. We have tried everything, but this young girl seems possessed. No priest has managed to cure her, so we turned to medicine. Her screams disturb all the nuns, you see." The vampires exchanged knowing glances. Whatever was happening in this abbey, they would find out.

"Yes, we are the doctors you are waiting for, sister," Jungwon assured, stepping forward. "We feared we might have taken the wrong road coming here."

"I am relieved! Come in! Come in!"

The abbess opened the door wide to invite them inside the sacred place. Ni-ki looked up to contemplate the abbey, a smirk stretching his lips before ascending the monument's steps. "This was going to be fun."

The vampires followed the youngest inside, hesitating for a moment as they passed through the doors but able to enter without constraint. It seemed that the creatures of the night who sinned and spread terror were welcome in the house of God.

The abbess led them through the abbey, the nuns they passed gave them curious looks, and some even blushed at the sight of them. It was certain that they were very attractive, an angelic beauty hiding a diabolical heart.

Soon, the abbey became darker and more austere. There were only candles illuminating the dark corridors, and it seemed that no one came to these places. There were spiderwebs in the corners of the walls, and a layer of dust covered the floor like an opaque blanket.

"The girl was brought to us several months ago," the abbess explained, lighting the way with a lamp. "She suffered from visions and violent fits that make her dangerous."

"You say that neither priests nor doctors knew what illness she was afflicted with?" Sunoo asked.

"That's correct. We thought she was possessed by evil, but all the exorcisms performed on her had no effect, they even seemed to worsen her symptoms. She would have fits where she would scream strange things for hours, so the previous doctors gave us something to sedate her when it happened."

They arrived before a long corridor, the stone walls were covered with crosses nailed to the wall, as if the devil were behind the door at the end of the hallway. The abbess handed the key to Sunghoon to stay behind.

The vampire went to unlock the door, glancing at his friends over his shoulder before opening it. As soon as they set foot in the room, they immediately smelled blood. A metallic smell but with sweet notes, like a fruit full of juice in summer.

The room was poorly lit, the light barely passing through the wooden planks nailed across the window, and the candles did nothing to add more brightness. A glance at the walls could frighten anyone. Strange symbols were drawn on them, some in what appeared to be charcoal, but others red, red like blood. Even they, who had lived thousands of years, did not know what they meant.

Their gazes fell on the figure in a corner of the room. Dressed in an oversized shirt, dirty and covered in suspicious stains, a young girl was sitting against the wall scribbling and muttering under her breath. The tips of her fingers were covered in black, old charcoal, and blood that covered a wound on her thigh.

The abbess stood on the threshold of the door, expecting another fit from the young girl. Jay stepped forward slowly so as not to frighten her, crouching in front of her. She seemed to be speaking in Latin, or perhaps Greek. "Hey…"

"Y/N," the abbess informed him.

"Y/N. I'm Jay, how are you? I'm a friend." She ignored him, pressing her forehead against the cold stone while drawing a new symbol.

He gently grabbed her thin wrist, his fingers pressing on the location of her pulse. Her skin was warm but not hot, and she shivered under his touch. Jay's fingers slid from her wrist to her hand, intertwining their fingers, and he breathed in slowly.

God, she was there.

Jay looked at the vampires behind him, nodding, and their gazes darkened, understanding that they had finally found her. They would finally be able to bring their love home.

But Jay's touch on her did not reassure Y/N. She pulled away from his grasp, holding her head in her hands, muttering. The abbess entered the room, pulling a syringe from her robe pocket.

"What are you doing?" Jake growled, grabbing her arm.

"She's going to have a fit! I don't want her to disturb the nuns in their prayers! I know the devil possesses this child! It's for her protection, gentlemen!"

"The devil does not possess her, and she is not sick," Sunghoon refuted.

Y/N was rocking back and forth, her knees pulled up to her chest, murmuring between sobs, her fingers tangling in her hair and pulling as if that could stop what was bothering her.

Heeseung could read her mind, her thoughts were distracted and blurry but open enough for him to take control of her mind and put her to sleep. Y/N collapsed against Jay, who took her in his arms, lifting her up.

"Where are you taking her?" the abbess worried.

"To a safe place where she will no longer cause you trouble and where we can heal her," Sunoo assured.

"Don't worry, sister," Ni-ki smiled, letting Jay pass by him carrying the young girl. "God is good, he will heal Y/N's soul."

He smiled at her, making the sign of the cross across his chest before following his friends, hands in his pockets. The nuns they passed murmured prayers as they walked toward the exit, the abbey doors closed behind them with a dull rumble. "Let's go home," Jungwon declared.

They disappeared into the air, leaving Transylvania to return to Korea, where they had been settled for several years. They owned a large traditional Korean house in the mountains, far from overly curious civilization.

Jay went to lay the young girl in a room, covering her with a blanket once she was stretched out on the bed. Her sleep was peaceful, controlled by Heeseung, who was giving her the best rest possible.

They took turns watching over her during the night, Heeseung gradually withdrew from her mind so that she would come back to herself at her own pace once the sun rose. Y/N opened her eyes, seeing a wooden ceiling instead of the dark, damp one of her room in the abbey.

She sat up on her elbows, finding herself in a cozy bed and a spacious room. The voices in her head had quieted. She could still feel their presence, but they were, as if, silenced. After months of living like this, she didn't know how it was possible.

"You're awake."

Y/N turned her head to see a young man sitting in the armchair facing the bed. She sat up, running a hand through her tousled hair. How had she gotten here? As if they had heard her voice, the door opened to six other boys.

"Where am I?" she said in a raspy voice from not having spoken for a long time and instead having screamed. "Where is the abbess?"

"You are no longer at the abbey," one of them replied. "You are in a safe place."

"How? I am possessed by the devil, I shouldn't be free. I hear… I still hear them."

A grimace crossed her face as she held her head. A blink of the eye was enough for her to see a boy appear before her, sitting on the edge of the bed. She frowned, not having seen him move, as he pressed a hand to her forehead. "The voices?"

"Yes. They are still there, and they hurt me sometimes. Who are you?"

"You knew us a long time ago, but you forgot. With us, you will be safe, and you will have nothing to fear, okay?"

Y/N nodded, then let her eyes rest on them. Although she was certain she had never seen them before, their faces remained familiar. Like a vague memory. And one thing came back in a loop. A list of names.

Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki. It was them.

Masterlist

By lunch your entire department knew of this boyfriend and you were being questioned to no end. Your coworkers didn’t mean any harm, not really, your office building could get so boring and mundane on a Tuesday afternoon, what else is there to do but gossip? You managed to avoid certain questions until they practically begged you to bring him to the annual holiday party. 

The entire drive home you considered every possible way out of this, you considered not going to the party altogether, feigning sickness or telling them your boyfriend was to spend the holidays with his family back home. Whilst believable, you knew the nosy older ladies in your office would only ask for pictures and more details afterward. 

It wasn’t until you got home, finding Jungwon sitting on the couch already in his pjs watching some old action movie, the kind that had cartoon-like sound effects and funny studio lighting, that the idea popped into your head. Anything after that was pure word vomit of this master plan that could possibly end up messier than it was worth. 

“Please, Jungwon, you’re my only hope! My only other close guy friends are Jake and Sunghoon. Jake works in the same office as me, everyone in our office has seen us together and no one is going to believe we’re dating. It’ll just be messier in the long run! And Sunghoon has a girlfriend!” You clasped your hands to your chest, pouting slightly to express the distress in your tone. 

“Why can’t you just tell them your boyfriend can’t make it?” He shook his head, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees as if in deep thought. 

“They’ll only ask for pictures after, if I bring someone to the party with me that’ll be proof enough. They can meet you, ask whatever they want to ask. We just have to lie for one night and it will all die down after that. Please?” 

Jungwon looked up at you, his eyes studied your own and you can sense the hesitation in them. The two of you were not only roommates, you’ve been very close friends for years. Your best friend from college, Sunoo, introduced you once you were looking to move into the city. You were searching for a place to stay and Sunoo knew his friend, Jungwon, was looking for a roommate. Everything worked out pretty well after that, you moved in and now here you were nearly three years later. 

“I don’t know y/n this could get complicated.” His eyebrows knitted together in that unfairly attractive way they always did when he was deep in thought. A characteristic you had hidden in that little folder in the back of your mind along with other things about Jungwon that you pretend not to notice. 

“Come on, you have literally nothing to lose. You will never have to see these people again, if anyone has to deal with the consequences it’s me at work.” 

Jungwon looked over you again, noting the way your lips pushed outwards in an annoyingly adorable pout, he wished he could say no to you. 

“Fine, just one dumb holiday party.” 

The night of the party came by a lot faster than you were prepared for. With you being swamped at work and Jungwon constantly in and out of the studio, the two of you barely had any time to work out how you would go about this. 

It seemed simple enough but you knew you had to at least come up with one solid storyline for this to be believable. Which is how you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Jungwon's car as he drove to the party, fingers tugging at the hem of your festive patterned sweater, asking the most ridiculous questions for the sake of preparing yourself for tonight. 

“I don’t think they’re gonna ask us which side of the bed we sleep on, y/n.” He chuckled, gripping the steering wheel with his right hand as his left forearm rests on the door. 

“You don’t know that! You are seriously underestimating how nosy some of my coworkers can be.” 

Jungwon shook his head, not bothering to hide the amused grin playing at his lips. “Okay, let’s just keep it simple, hmm? We met through a mutual friend, started off as roommates then friends and about let’s say…four months ago we started dating. If they ask why you haven’t mentioned me before, just say you didn’t want to say anything until you were sure we were serious. We’re already best friends so we know a lot about each other, just stick as close to the truth as possible. Oh and I sleep on the right side of the bed, the one closest to the door. Always.” 

You couldn’t help but stare at him in awe, he seemed so calm about this as if it was normal to pretend to be in a relationship with your best friend. Maybe you were over complicating things, surely this wouldn’t be too different from your normal life, you and Jungwon were already very close, talking about him and acting comfortable around him is second nature to you. 

“Okay, lets keep the pda to a minimum though, I’ll stand by your side, maybe you can place your hand on my back or hold my hand occasionally, we shouldn’t over do it.” You added, nodding to yourself. 

Jungwon raised an eyebrow in your direction, turning to face you momentarily before looking back onto the road. Without hesitation he switches the hand on the wheel, his left hand taking over and his now free right hand travels down to hold your own two hands that were still pulling at loose threads of your sweater. The sudden contact made you flinch, your eyes darting up to his in search of an explanation. 

The corner of his lips lift upward into another amused smirk, “No one is going to believe we’re boyfriend and girlfriend if you flinch every time I touch you.” He says matter-of-factly. 

“I won't, I just wasn’t expecting it.” You try to defend yourself. He squeezes your hand once.

“That’s the point, baby.” He replies, the grin on his lips never faltering. 

“Baby?” Your eyes widen again in shock although your mind is still very much aware of his hand still on yours. 

“Sorry, do you prefer princess? Maybe sweetheart? My love?” Jungwon laughs this time, slightly throwing his head back as he enters the parking garage for your building. 

“Very funny.” You shove his hand off of you, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Come on, we’ve got a long night to get through.” He pats your knee once as he parks into a spot. He’s quick to get out of the car, walking over to your side to open your door and extend a hand out for you to take. 

“You ready, darling?” He winks as he throws another pet name at you just as you grab his hand. “Be good, Jungwon.” 

“That’s Wonie to you.” He smiles again, turning to walk beside you with his hand placed comfortably on the small of your back as you walk into the building together. 

The two of you make your way into the building, heading for the large conference room that was turned into a makeshift party room for the night. The team at HR helped decorate the room to make it feel as lively and inviting as four white walls and a bland carpeted floor could muster. 

All eyes were on you the second you walked in. Well, really, they were on the man standing behind you. Jungwon was the kind of man to demand attention in any room he entered, regardless of who his real or pretend girlfriend was at the time. 

You lasted all but fifteen seconds before the group of ladies standing around the refreshments table circled around you. “There you are! y/n, this must be your boyfriend, introduce us!” 

Jungwon only smiles as you introduce him to the older women, his hand finds its way around your waist in an almost possessive manner. 

“It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about all of you.” Which is true, after countless nights coming home from work just to rant over a glass of wine with a very tired Jungwon, he didn’t have to lie regarding that. 

“We haven’t heard nearly enough about you! Tell us, how long have you been together?” Then came the flood of questions and comments,

“Do you two live together?” 

“Who asked who out first?” 

“You’re such an attractive couple!”

“The flowers you sent her last week were beautiful!” 

Jungwon's eyebrows perk up at the last comment, sparing a glance down to you in question. You had forgotten all about that, those flowers were one of the main reasons you found yourself in this mess. The beautiful array of roses had been an early Christmas gift from Jay, as printed on the small card placed neatly against the bouquet. No one had seen who they were from so you threw out the card, left your office to reject his affections once again in the nicest way possible just as you had several times before. Only this time you found yourself saying you had a boyfriend. 

Jay was more than surprised, you had never even shown signs of having a partner before that day. You kept the flowers at your desk, not really knowing what to do with them and somehow that led to the entire office assuming you had a boyfriend as well. 

One of the ladies from the front desk smiled, “Yes, those roses were gorgeous, I saw when they got delivered. They got to her office before she did in the morning.” 

Jungwon grinned but slowly shook his head, “I’m sure they were but I’m afraid I can’t take credit for those. I wasn’t the one to send her those flowers, if I was I would’ve known to send her hydrangeas, those are her favorite.” He squeezes at your waist, pulling you closer as a sign of affection in front of the others. 

The ladies swooned momentarily, as did you before you caught yourself. Your eyes widened, right hand coming up to rest against his chest as you smiled up at him adoringly. You had mentioned it in passing surely, living together for almost three years there’s a lot he probably knows about you that you don’t realize and vice versa. Still, the casual mention of your favorite flower along with his nearly imperceptible possessive tone is enough to make your breath hitch. 

“Well, if that wasn't you then who was it?” 

You shrug, “Not sure, they were beautiful though. But Jungwon’s right, he’s always gotten me hydrangeas, I instantly knew they weren’t from him.” The lie spills past your lips all too easily just as you notice Jay walking up to you, a drink in one hand as his other rests in his pocket. 

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, I’m Jay.” He holds his hand out before Jungwon, plastering an award winning grin on his face. You had given Jungwon the run down on Jay and his flirtations so he was more than prepared for this interaction. 

“Nice to meet you man, I’m Jungwon.” He shakes his hand, matching his smile without ever letting go of your waist. Some of the ladies had dispersed now, making small talk conversation around you whilst still being within earshot. 

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind me keeping your girl late some nights, that Taiwan proposal was very demanding, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without her.” Jay’s expression is charming but his tone is striking, you hadn’t expected him to play it like this. Jay had always been a gentleman toward you, sure a bit insistent with this flirting but he had never crossed a line as broadly as this before. 

Jungwon doesn’t seem phased, almost like he was expecting this from the start, his grin only widens. 

“Don’t worry about it, my girl is the best at what she does. I don't blame you for asking for her help.” He smirks at him, you can feel the way Jungwon’s fingers flex against your hip. “And besides, it worked out perfect on nights I’d get back late from the studio. Usually I get home way later than her so on those rare chances we get home at the same time, we definitely take advantage to spend more time together before bed. I should be thanking you, really.” The innuendo isn’t missed on either of you, the smirk on Jungwon’s face says it all. 

You have to hold back a laugh as Jay’s jaw clenches, his grip on his glass tightens. In contrast, Jungwon looks the picture of calm. “You want a drink, baby?” He turns to look at you but your eyes are already on him. He waits for you to nod before turning back to Jay, “If you’ll excuse us.”

The two of you manage to find a table after grabbing some wine, taking a seat next to each other. You cross your legs, turning to face Jungwon just as his hand casually  comes to rest over your legs, holding you in place. This proximity and casual touching was becoming more and more normal as time went on.

“That was perfect.” You whispered to him with a smile. You turned, expecting him to be smiling with you but instead his jaw was set, eyes focused on one corner of the room. You follow his eyes, finding Jay conversing with another associate from a different department. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“That’s the asshole that won’t leave you alone?” His voice is quiet but stern. 

“He’s not all bad, really. He’s usually more composed than that, I really don’t know where that came from.” It’s true, Jay's sudden change of character upon seeing you with Jungwon was unexpected. He had always been so kind and proper you wouldn’t have guessed he’d be the type of guy to subtly challenge someone's boyfriend. 

“Looks pretty bad from where I’m sitting. He ever make you feel uncomfortable?” His eyes turn to you then, all serious and protective you almost let yourself fall into the immersive role of him being the jealous boyfriend. 

You shake your head, “Nothing like that, he gets flirty but it’s never inappropriate. I’ve tried shutting him down before but it’s my fault for not being as stern as I should’ve been. That’s why I told him I had a boyfriend, I thought he would surely back off then.” 

“Any respectable guy can tell when a woman isn’t into him, if he was as kind as you say he would’ve taken the first hint and it wouldn’t have had to go this far. Now he’s threatening me, knowing I’m your boyfriend.” He takes a sip of his wine then, his sharp jawline poking out as he swallows down the scarlet liquid. 

Boyfriend. Not fake boyfriend, just boyfriend. He said it so definitively, you couldn’t bring yourself to correct him. 

“He crossed a line, let’s just hope he gets the hint now, yeah?” Jungwon nods in agreement, hand squeezing your knee softly in reassurance. 

The night seems to go by pretty quickly after that, you converse with some coworkers, Jungwon constantly at your side while you do, occasionally jumping into the conversation whenever prompted to. 

It was about an hour before midnight, most people had gone home by then, you and Jungwon found yourselves talking to Jake about some mutual friends you have when Jungwon received a phone call. 

“One second, baby, it’s Heeseung from the studio. I'll be right back.” He informs, pressing a fleeting kiss to the side of your head before walking out into the hallway. You almost freeze at the contact, despite him having his arm around you all night, the kiss was unexpected. You recovered quickly though as Jake continued the conversation as though everything was normal, though you guess for him it was. 

The silence of the hallway provided Jungwon a moment to speak with Heeseung, he called about an upcoming meeting and new deadlines for a client. A new artist they’re working with requested a change in their sound, this would set back their work by at least a week. Jungwon ran a hand through his hair, groaning at the news. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine I’ll stay late tomorrow if I have to. We’ll scrap what we got. Cool, thanks.” 

The call ends and just as Jungwon is about to turn back into the conference room he finds Jay leaning against the wall with a glass of some dark liquor in his hand.

“Hey man, look I don’t like getting involved in stuff but I just wanted to let you know man to man,” Jungwon raised an eyebrow in question at the man, who clearly looked like he had one drink too many, “Your girl has been flirting with me for a while, I mean she’s clearly into me. She only told me she had a boyfriend a couple days ago. Just looking out man, who knows what would’ve happened between us if she had never mentioned you.” The smirk on the man's face tells Jungwon exactly what he thinks would have happened. 

An ugly, angry, feeling stems deep in Jungwon’s chest, he feels his jaw clench. If only Jay knew how you would have never allowed that, how he would never allow that. 

“Is that so? Because what I heard is that you have continued to bother my girlfriend despite her telling you over and over again that she’s not interested. She didn’t tell you about me because it’s none of your business, she only chose to tell you hoping you’d finally get the hint but it seems you still don’t get it, huh?” Jungwon stares him down, eyeing the drink in his hand and how Jay clutches the glass. 

“If you’ll excuse me I have to get back to my girlfriend, I would appreciate it if you left her alone from now on but hey, thanks for looking out.” Jungwon walks past him with a grin, patting his shoulder as he does. 

Back inside the room, he returns to your side instantly, jumping right back into the conversation between you and Jake like he never left.

Another half hour or so passes before you squeeze Jungwon's arm, deciding to call it a night. “We should go, Jungwon’s got work tomorrow and I’m getting pretty tired, right, love?” You look up at him with pleading eyes and Jungwon only smiles warmly in return, nodding. 

“Yeah we should head home. Jake, man, it was really great to meet you, I’ve heard great things, we should meet again.” He goes to shake his hand which your coworker happily takes, “Likewise, we should all get drinks one night, I’ll introduce you to my friend Riki. I think you two would really get along.” Jungwon nods happily and you bid your goodbyes to the rest of them. 

Jungwon doesn’t let go of you the entire walk to his car, opening the door for you and only letting go once you sit down. 

“I don’t like that Jay guy, you’ll let me know if he bothers you again, yeah?” He says after a few moments of silence on the drive home. 

“I don’t think he will but yes I promise I will let you know if he does. Is everything okay, did he say something else to you?” You study him, the way he grips the steering wheel with both hands he clearly looks bothered by something. 

He hesitates, you can pinpoint the exact moment his body slightly tense and his jaw clenches. “It’s not important, I think he finally got the hint but if he says anything or makes you feel uncomfortable just let me know.” You nod along, knowing better than to argue with Jungwon when he gets like this. 

When his voice drops an octave or two and his eyebrows strain together in a focused gaze, he was so stern like this and it’s very rare he used that tone on you so you weren’t about to push your luck. 

“I’ll tell you, I promise.” You reach over the center console to softly squeeze his arm in assurance. Jungwon tenses under your touch, feeling the ugly feeling from earlier return deep in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure what to call it yet and he was still trying to decide whether he liked it or not.

The following weeks after the holiday party were shadowed by a tense cloud that seemed to hover over your shared apartment with Jungwon. He’s been working day in and day out thanks to changes with their client and the label. You barely saw him at all, sometimes you’d cook dinner and leave him a sticky note on the fridge, if you were lucky you’d wake up to a missing tupperware and a response on the same note stating, “thank you.” 

You weren’t much better off either, you were tasked to work on another proposal with Jay for an international deal that was currently putting you through the ringer. If the stress of the workload wasn’t enough, working with Jay now was no walk in the park. He was less flirty than before but even now you continue to catch him staring at you with dark eyes. It’s a bit unsettling, the other day you hadn’t realized your skirt had ridden up slightly until you felt the burn on his gaze onto your skin. 

He also continues to ask about your reservation for the company gala coming up, surely wanting to know if Jungwon will be there. Each time he asks, you avoid the question, you haven’t mentioned the gala to Jungwon and you don’t intend to. He’s been so busy with work there’s no way you would bother him with your nonsense right now, you were sure to survive one night without him. 

With the gala just over a week away work was piling and deadlines were nearing. Thankfully you had somehow managed to leave the office at a reasonable time today, slipping into the elevator before Jay could keep you later under the guise of unnecessary modifications for your proposal. It was only 6:30pm by the time you got home, the earliest you’ve returned all week. 

You hadn’t expected to find Jungwon in the kitchen, serving himself some pizza he happened to buy from your favorite place. 

“Whoa, hey, you’re back early. Good you can eat while it’s still hot.” He greets you with a smile, despite barely seeing each other since the party there was no awkward tension between you. Things may have gotten quiet around you but never awkward, Jungwon wouldn’t let that happen. 

The smell of the fresh pizza was enough to have you drooling before you finished taking off your shoes. Jungwon was already serving you a plate along with a soda. He set your plates down on the dining table, waiting for you before taking a bite of his slice. 

“How was work?” He breaks the silence first. “Exhausting, I’m all over the place recently.” You sigh, biting into the pizza. 

“Is that why you forgot to mention the gala your company is hosting?” He raises an eyebrow at you, smirking slightly due to the look of surprise on your face. 

“How did you know about that?” 

“I bumped into Jake yesterday, he mentioned the gala and said you’ve been so busy with your project that you haven’t submitted your rsvp so he just marked you down for a plus one, he said he expected to see me there.” The look on his face tells you he’s not at all bothered by this information but still you find yourself wanting to apologize. 

“Jungwon, I am so sorry I dragged you into this, I’ll come up with some excuse, I’ll say you got sick or had to go into work.” You’re already shaking your head, coming up with a dozen different believable excuses so Jungwon won’t have to be involved again. You had promised this ruse would only be for one night, that was all he agreed to.

But Jungwon was already shaking his head before you could finish your sentence, “Why would you do that? Your boyfriend should attend this gala, I hear you might get an award.” 

Boyfriend, once again missing the ‘fake’ in front of it. And once again you don’t find yourself correcting him.

“Jake really told you everything, huh?” You scoffed to which Jungwon only nodded, “Yup, wish it would’ve come from you though. Were you not planning on inviting me?” 

“Jungwon, our agreement was that you pretended to be my boyfriend for the holiday party, remember? I don’t think we need to continue, they know you exist, they saw you once, that’s enough.” 

The brunette across from you hums, “Is that Jay guy still bothering you?” 

You hesitate, teeth pressing down on your lower lip before you speak, “Not really.” 

“That’s a yes, I’m going. My job clearly isn’t done if that guy still thinks he has a chance with you.” 

It was decided then, Jungwon left no room to argue. The following week passed and before you knew it you were slipping into a beautiful dark floor length gown. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to zip up the rest of your dress but not being able to reach on your own. Your hair and makeup were already set, jewelry highlighting your soft skin. 

Jungwon was waiting for you in the living room, he had been ready for at least thirty minutes now but he knew better than to rush you. 

Accepting defeat you huff, holding the dress in place before calling out his name in the quiet of your apartment. Almost instantly, three soft knocks are heard at your bedroom door. 

“Come in, I can’t zip this up, could you help me?” You ask just as the door creaks open. Jungwon all but freezes at your doorway, eyes sliding down the length of your body and your exposed back. You felt a heat wash over yourself under the heavy weight of his gaze. 

“Jungwon?” Your tone was breathless, not wanting to disturb whatever hovered in the distance between you. Jungwon cleared his throat, taking soft hesitant steps toward you before standing behind you. Your eyes meet his through the reflection of your full body mirror. He doesn’t say a word as his fingers trail down the length of your back, tracing the zipper until they grasp the end. His eyes follow the zipper as he closes it, watching the pieces of fabric connect to cover your soft skin. Once it’s fully closed you adjust your hair back, letting it drape down your back. 

“Thank you.” Your voice is shaky, you’re sure he catches it too but he doesn’t say anything about it. “You look beautiful.” As if compelled to do so, Jungwon presses a soft kiss to your bare shoulder, surprising himself just as much as you. 

“Thank you, you look handsome tonight.” Jungwon was an attractive man, so attractive that you almost refused the offer to move in with him because you knew you wouldn’t be able to put that aside. It’s very rare that he dresses up like this though, suit and tie with his hair styled neatly in a way that exposes his forehead. His lips curved into a shy smile at your complement, hand coming down to squeeze your waist before taking a step back. The newfound distance provides you with room to breathe. 

“Ready to go?” You nod along and soon thereafter the two of you find yourself in an extravagant ballroom. Your company hosts this gala every year to honor its associates and partners. This year in particular you and Jay were nominated for an award for your work on the Taiwan deal. It was a high honor and whilst you were incredibly grateful, you weren’t prepared to share a table with Jay because of it. 

The seating charts had you and Jungwon in a large round table along with Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon with his girlfriend. Sunghoon didn’t directly work for your company but he was a representative for a loyal partnering company. You have worked together so often at this point you consider him a friend just as you did Jake. You have met his girlfriend, Sooha, a couple times too so seeing her was always a plus. 

“Jungwon, y/n! Nice to see you guys.” Jake smiled, standing up from his seat to greet you. Jungwon keeps one hand on the small of your back, the other shakes Jake's hand. “Great to see you again, Jake.” 

“Sunghoon, Sooha, this is my boyfriend, Jungwon. Jungwon, this is Sunghoon and his girlfriend.” You introduce them, greeting the two kindly. Sooha smiles at you and gives you a brief hug as the men shake hands. 

“Hello, Jay, you know Jungwon.” You force your lips into a tight smile. Jay nods, lifting his glass in greeting. The six of you find your seats again, Sunghoon starting a conversation instantly about some new project his company is starting but the work talk only lasts a couple minutes before Sooha leans closer to you, tilting her lips up in a smirk. 

“You look gorgeous tonight, you two make an attractive couple.” Sooha smiles at you. A warmth colors your cheeks, “Thank you, that’s kind of you. I’m glad I could finally introduce him to you guys.” 

Sunghoon turns to look at you then, “Me too, I can’t lie I was a little surprised, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Sooha nods in agreement, “Yeah me neither, I had no idea.” 

“Oh you weren’t the only one.” Jay adds, his tone is bitter as he lifts his glass to his lips, eyes elsewhere. You can feel Jungwon tense beside you, out of reflex your hand rests over his own on the table. 

“Oh come on, I wasn’t surprised. With all due respect, y/n is stunning. I knew there was no way she was single, respectfully of course.” Jake shares, his eyes travel to Jungwon’s as if showing he meant no harm, to which Jungwon chuckles. “It’s alright, I know she’s gorgeous, I got lucky, I know I’m not the first one to try and I won’t be the last but I’m the one that’s lucky enough to be with her so.” The table erupts into light laughter, all but Jay who forces his lips into a tight smile. 

“Well said.” Sooha compliments, taking a sip of her wine. Sunghoon nods, placing his arm around the back of Sooha’s chair. The conversation flows easy after that for everyone but Jay who seems to observe more than partake in the topic of discussion. His eyes find their way back to you or to Jungwon's hands on you. 

After some time you spot an associate across the room that you had been meaning to talk to, you excuse yourself and invite Jungwon along with you to introduce him. Jungwon follows behind you with no hesitation, reaching the associate and greeting her with a smile. You jump into conversation with her, asking her something about her daughter's recital but Jungwon could not look away from the bar where Jay had travelled to. Jay was shamelessly checking you out, eyes trailing down the length of your body and Jungwon hated it. 

He took a step closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, careful not to disturb your conversation. Jay doesn’t look away which only fuels Jungwon's annoyance. He hated this, the ugly feeling he felt during the holiday party was returning in the pit of his stomach. His jaw clenched and his fingers flexed against your dress. 

This felt almost like a challenge of sorts, like Jay was pushing Jungwon to see how far he could go, how much he could get away with. It angered Jungwon to no end, he knew he was the possessive type, the feeling of jealousy was one he was familiar with when in love. He has always been like this in past relationships but of course it was never a feeling he experienced towards you. 

This was new and uncharted territory for him. When your associate excused herself, leaving just the two of you standing there, Jungwon didn’t hesitate before leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder, then another one to your temple. You feel your cheeks blush as the contact, “Jungwon?” 

“He hasn’t stopped looking at you, not since we walked in.” He whispered softly into your ear, to anyone else it would paint the scene of two lovers sharing a sweet moment. But his tone took you by surprise, he didn’t sound like a friend looking out for you, he truly sounded like a jealous boyfriend who was just seconds away from claiming what’s his.

“Is he looking now?” You whisper back, not daring to look up on your own. Jungwon nods, “Mhm.” 

With that you turn around in his hold to face him, “Dance with me?” You lead him into the dance floor where other couples danced slowly together. Jungwon was quick to place his hands around your waist, pulling you close so you had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck. 

“This is new.” You tease in a whisper. Jungwon laughs, “Very. But I like it.” You nod in agreement, letting Jungwon guide you in a slow dance. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.” He confesses softly into the air between you, holding his breath after as if he had just admitted his darkest secret. 

You let his words sink in for a moment, considering all the different meanings if only influenced by a different context. If only this weren’t a facade meant to fool everyone around you. If only Jungwon wasn’t pretending to be your jealous boyfriend. If only this were real. 

“I don’t like it either, but I’m not thinking about that right now.” Your breath hitches at your own words, eyes lifting up to meet his. Jungwon studies you for a moment, eyes dropping to your lips for just a second. “What are you thinking about?” The tone of his voice is heavy with some kind of emotion you have never heard from him before, there is something heated lying just beneath the surface but before you can dive into it, the music lowers as an announcer comes up to a podium asking everyone to return to their seats for the award ceremony. 

Jungwon has to bite back a groan, offering his hand to you to guide you back to your table where your coworkers had already returned to. Sitting next to you in silence after your moment in the dancefloor was slowly killing him inside, he needed to hear what you were gonna say to him, he needed to know how you felt right now. 

All the while awards are being handed out, Jungwon can’t help but feel his entire world spin on its axis, he feels as though everything is on the brink of falling apart. 

You weren’t much better, your nerves should be targeted for your nomination, you should be thinking about what you’re going to say if you win, who will you thank. But instead you’re thinking about how Jungwon looked at you, how his jaw clenched when Jay looked at you. You can still feel his touch on your skin despite him not touching you since you sat down. 

The beating of your heart is all you can hear, your thoughts are screaming at you to pull Jungwon aside and talk to him, to settle whatever is changing between the two of you. Perhaps it’s the atmosphere, the drinks, the fake relationship you’re currently showing off to everyone in your company. All of these things could be getting to you, making you see things that aren’t there, feel things you shouldn't feel. 

Your own pulse inside your ears is so loud you almost miss them calling your name for the award. Jungwon recovers faster than you, clapping and smiling at you like the proud boyfriend he’s pretending to be. Sunghoon and Sooha along with everyone else in the room cheer for you and Jay as the two of you get up to claim your award at the podium. 

Jay offers his hand to help you up the steps in your heels, you take it hesitantly even as your eyes instantly find Jungwons, almost as if you were asking for permission. Everything about tonight is so strange, since when do you look to Jungwon for approval for anything? 

Jay takes the award and steps up to the microphone, “Thank you so much, I could not have done it without my beautiful partner here. All those long nights really paid off, it was all worth it for the success of the company and for this, thank you.” He steps back, allowing you to take his place. 

Just as you were about to speak, you feel Jay place his hand on the small of your back. The podium and your bodies hide the action from the audience but Jungwon doesn’t miss the way your eyes slightly widen and how your body tenses under the lights. 

You quickly take a step forward, “Thank you for this award, we are very grateful and honored. I want to thank our team and everyone that assisted us with this project, thank you to Jay for being a reliable business partner. And I want to thank my boyfriend, Jungwon, for keeping me sane when work was driving me up a wall and for waiting for me at home after all those long nights.” Laughter erupts in the hall, coworkers and partners alike are all amused with your speech but your eyes are only on Jungwon. 

You chose your words carefully, making it clear to everyone, but mainly Jay, that once again you were not interested in anyone other than the brunette sitting at your table next to Jake. Jungwon smiles at you though his shoulders are straight and his eyes are attentive, laced with a possessiveness that pours out of him the longer he has to watch Jay stand next to you. 

Jay attempted to guide you back to your table with his hand hovering at your back but you walk fast enough to stay just ahead of him so he wouldn’t touch you. Jungwon catches on quickly, standing from his seat to take your hand and pressing a loving kiss to your temple, your table claps at the display of affection. 

“Congratulations.” He whispers to you, smiling as he helps you take your seat again. 

“Did he touch you?” He leaned in close to whisper the question in a volume only you could hear, to others it appeared as those he was simply whispering sweet nothings to his lover, but you felt the seriousness of his tone. Your eyes met his and you gave him an almost imperceptible nod. 

Jungwon's eyes flared and his jaw clenched, you were half convinced he would stand up and punch Jay right then and there. But Jungwon wasn’t a violent person, he was possessive and stern but never violent. So he just takes a deep breath through his nose, hand resting over your own on the table. 

You leaned in, breath fanning his ear sending goosebumps down his body, “Night’s almost over.” Realistically he knew your words were meant to calm him, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious like there was still much to unfold. Deep down he knew the night was far from over. 

Surely enough, he was right. Dinner and more drinks were served throughout the ballroom. You and Jungwon had done your rounds talking to your coworkers and business partners around the room. Jungwon had made it his mission to keep you as far away from Jay as physically possible when away from the table. 

The event was coming to a close when your CEO called for everyone's attention for a closing speech. Back at your table with the others it was hard to ignore Jay's eyes on you, you could feel the way his glance travelled down the length of your exposed skin. Clearly having had one too many drinks on him he was failing to conceal his attention on you. This only fueled the man sitting next to you, his anger rising by the second. 

Surely this was past the point of a concerned friend or a pretend jealous boyfriend. Jungwon's jealousy seemed real, more real than you were willing to admit because that realization caused a completely different one to spur from the pit of your stomach. You liked it. You liked that he was jealous, liked the way his hold on you tightened whenever he felt Jay looking your way, relished in the way his jaw clenched in frustration as a way to hold back whatever he truly wanted to say in the moment. 

A thrill went up your spine as it dawned on you, you liked seeing Jungwon get possessive with you. Without realizing it, your eyes trained on his jaw, watching as it clenched and unclenched before drifting down to his tense shoulders and calculated breathing. Almost immediately you found yourself crossing your legs and squeezing your thighs together to subside the sudden ache between your thighs. You never thought jealousy could look so attractive on a person. Although it’s not just any person, it’s Jungwon, your Jungwon. As an already extremely attractive man, seeing him with his jealous eyes and tense posture just made him down right devastating. Enough to soak your panties through if you didn’t know any better. 

And apparently you didn't. 

The crowd applauded as your CEO wished everyone a good night and thanked them for coming. Sunghoon and Sooha were the first to say their goodbyes at your table. 

“Jungwon, it was good to finally meet you. We should meet up again soon, the four of us should grab dinner.” He smiled, his arm wrapped lovingly over Soohas shoulder. Jungwon smiled and nodded, hand at the small of your back. “Absolutely, we’ll plan something soon.” 

“Excluding me already, I met you first.” Jake fake pouts at Jungwon who only chuckles whilst shaking his head. “Up to you if you want to third wheel a double date.” The group laughs, promising to make plans for the future, Sunghoon and Sooha are the first to walk away with Jake following not far behind. 

You send a small nod towards Jay and you’re just about to turn to walk away when Jungwon stops you, “Hold on, wait right here.” He grins before turning back to Jay. You watch as he shakes his hand and steps closer to him, saying something that you can’t quite make out. You watch as Jay’s face drops, eyes dropping to the ground and Jungwon steps back with that same easy grin on his face. Within moments he’s back beside you.

“What was that?” He only shakes his head at you, “Don’t worry about it, he shouldn’t be bothering you anymore.” You’re not sure what he means by that but at this moment you don’t think you want to find out. 

Jungwon has his arm wrapped around you, not even bothering to look in Jays direction before turning to you. “Ready to go home?” The way he says it sends a shock right to your core, the heat that was building in between your thighs all night suddenly becoming unbearable. 

“Let’s go home.” Jungwon stares down at you as you say it, a warmth spread through his chest, he nearly has to hold back a grunt at the way you look up at him so innocently as if you have no idea what you’re doing to him. He nods in response, tightening his hold around you before leading you back to his car. 

The drive back home reminded you of the night of the Holiday party. The air around you was tense and slightly awkward but tonight there was also a hint of something else. It was hot, regardless of the AC being on, you were feeling more and more frustrated with every red light. You just needed to get home, to do what exactly? You weren’t sure, maybe a cold shower was enough to remind you that this was all fake and however you were seeing Jungwon at this moment isn’t real. 

The silence is suffocating and Jungwon could practically feel the heat radiating off your body. It was killing him to focus on the road when all he wanted to do was admire you sitting there in his car, in that stunning dress, all while trying to discreetly press your thighs together even though Jungwon had caught it the first time you did it back at the table. It took everything in him to not react, it was even more trying now with him gripping onto the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. 

You were in his car, in that dress, and turned on and it was killing him to not be able to touch you. He needed some form of a distraction, he would take anything at this point if it meant he would be able to stop thinking about your pretty thighs squeezing together for him underneath your dress. 

“I’m sorry about Jay, I guess I downplayed it more than I realized.” You spoke first. Jungwon wasn’t really wanting to think about that either, it raised another kind of emotion in him that he was still getting used to with you. A lot of things were changing tonight evidently. 

“Yeah, a lot more. I don’t like him.” Jungwon's response is short and calculated, he didn’t want to say anything too forward while his thoughts were still elsewhere. 

You laughed at that, shaking your head which brought his gaze over to you for just a moment. The stress lining the space above his eyebrows eases at the sight of your smile, he can’t help but smile softly in return. 

“Oh really? I couldn’t tell. You were staring at him all night like you wanted to kill him, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were-” You stop yourself, realizing if you finished that sentence the light hearted conversation would go right back to the tense atmosphere you were just in. But it was too late for that, Jungwon wasn’t about to let that go unnoticed. 

“If you didn’t know any better what? Finish that.” His voice is stern now but still kind, he still used that soft tone he reserved for you but his words convinced you that he was not playing around anymore.

You look at him, studying his side profile as he makes it a point to stare straight ahead, not daring to turn away from the road for even a second. You were almost home, what were the chances you could stall until he pulled into your apartment building? 

A moment passed, you were getting closer and closer to your apartment but Jungwon didn’t push further. He didn’t ask again like he knew you would answer the first time. 

“If I didn’t know any better I would say you were actually jealous tonight.” You responded just as he pulled into your building parking garage. You hear Jungwon let out a breath, his grip tightens on the while but he doesn’t say anything until he fully parks the car, turning the engine off and granting the two of you just a moment of silence. 

“And if I was?” Your breath nearly gets caught in your throat. You weren’t fully expecting that, sure there was that tiny hopeful voice in your head that believed he might be even just slightly as affected as you have been all night but you didn’t actually believe it to be true. 

“I mean, I would have no reason to be, right? Because this is fake?” He asks aloud before you can respond to his first statement. The question sets you back, you blink at him without knowing what to say. Jungwon doesn’t give you a second to dwell on it, he opens the door and gets out of the car, already fishing into his pockets for the apartment keys and waiting for you. 

Without Jungwon in the car you allow your confusion to display on your face for just a moment before following him. Jungwon is waiting for you but clearly keeping a distance between the two of you as you begin to walk towards the elevators. Being in this enclosed space with him now was nervewracking, you didn’t know what to say to that. Technically he was right, there was no reason for him to get jealous because this was all pretend, you two weren’t actually dating. But then again, that hasn’t stopped you from swooning over him since the holiday party. 

You’re practically holding your breath the entire elevator ride, looking down at your heels. All that could be heard was that awkward elevator music and surely the pounding of your heart. Jungwon barely waits for the doors to fully open before he’s walking out the doors, he already has his keys in his hand. 

To his credit, he looks back to make sure you’re still behind him before he opens the door and steps inside, holding it for you as well. You step inside your apartment, watching as Jungwon silently locks the door before slipping out of his shoes with ease. You lean against the entryway wall to fiddle with the strap of your heels. The shakiness of your hands isn’t helping you at this moment, sighing with a huff as the strap keeps slipping from your hold. 

Jungwon, who was already in the kitchen with a cold bottle of water in hand, turns to look at you with an almost wounded expression. He watches you fight with your heel strap for another moment before silently walking over to you and kneeling before you. With the gentlest touch you’ve ever felt, Jungwon slowly lifts your foot to rest on his knee and carefully undoes the strap before switching to the other one. 

You watch in shock and awe, holding your breath as you watch him remove your heel, placing it softly on the ground but still not letting go of your ankle. You watch him, unblinking, as he turns his head back to your foot. His eyes trail the length of your leg, peeking at the bit of exposed thigh under your dress, up your hips and waist until his eyes finally meet yours. Without looking away from your eyes, Jungwon leans down to press a kiss to the inside of your ankle, rubbing the area softly before setting your foot back on the ground. 

All the air in your lungs was surely knocked out of you after that, your heart rate is now a concerning speed but you can’t bring yourself to look away from him. 

“I was jealous and possessive, in a way I probably shouldn’t have been. I’m sorry.” He whispered, still kneeling on the ground in front of you. His left hand softly caressed the side of your knee over your dress, sighing quietly. This was unexpected in a way that sent a wave of pure heat straight down to your core. You reached a hand down to run your fingers through his hair, holding onto his jaw to tilt his head up. 

“It’s ok, won, it felt real to me too.” You smiled once he leans into your touch, closing his eyes gently as if he was taking advantage of this moment, not wanting to forget it. You gently guide him back up to stand in front of you, Jungwon doesn’t dare look away from you right now. “I liked being with you like that, I liked having your arm around me and dancing with you. It was nice.” You admit into the quiet of your shared apartment. Jungwon smiles as he looks down for a moment, nodding in agreement. 

“Me too. I noticed it the first night, during the holiday party but I ignored it. I don’t want to ignore it anymore, baby.” His confession has your heart skipping a beat in the most cliche way possible. You smile up at him, “Me neither.” 

Jungwon gives himself a moment to admire your features, admire the way you’re looking at him right now with a look in your eyes he had never seen before. He smiles, taking a step closer before cupping your jaw with his hands and leaning forward to press a soft but meaningful kiss to your lips. Your lips mold together perfectly like they were always meant to tangle together as they are now. 

In nearly three years of living with Jungwon, you’d be lying if you said you never considered what it would be like to kiss him. You thought about it many times actually, more times than you would ever admit out loud. But none of those daydreams or fantasies could ever compare to the real thing. You were starting to understand that Jungwon was a very possessive person in every aspect of his life, including when it came to kissing you. His kiss wasn’t just loving or passionate, it was claiming. His hands had travelled to round your waist, one hand sliding up your back which sends goosebumps down your spine. 

He tilted his head to kiss you deeper, his tongue slipping past your soft lips to claim the inside of your mouth. You had never been kissed like this, it was breathtaking and earth shattering. It was that type of kiss you thought only existed in the movies or those romantic books you read and tell everyone they’re just fantasy. 

After a couple more breathless moments the two of you slowly pull away to take a breath, Jungwon studies your reaction, admiring the blush on your cheeks and the eyes your eyes seem like they’re struggling to focus. 

“That was-” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you smile before chuckling together, Jungwon takes a step back, looking you up and down before speaking again. “Just so we’re clear, this means something to me, I want to take you out on an official date and I want to try this with you…but I also want to take you back to my room right now and take care of you.” 

You smile at his words and let out a breathless sigh before nodding, “I want that too.” He smiles at you with that warm smile that never fails to make you swoon. “Good.” He nods once before he’s pulling you in again by the waist, crashing his lips to your this time with more urgency than before. He starts walking you backwards without pulling his lips from yours, guiding you back towards his bedroom without ever breaking the kiss. 

One clumsy turn has him backing into a wall, groaning softly against your mouth. You gasp and then stifle your giggle with your hand, pulling away to make sure he was okay. He shakes his head, masking his embarrassment by muttering a quick, “Fuck it” under his breath and scoopping you into his arms. He picks you up bridal style, walking quickly over to his room and kicking the door closed behind him as he sets you back down on the floor.

He turns you around swiftly, having you face the wall with your hands coming up to brace yourself at the feeling of his touch wandering the length or your back and waist. 

“You look so beautiful, baby. Tell me I can take this off of you..” He whispers against your skin, leaving kisses down the back of your shoulder. His fingers toy with the zipper of your dress, the same one he helped close earlier in the night. 

“Please.” You whimper, pressing your forehead against the wall to try to calm your breathing. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip with a sigh once you feel Jungwon's fingers pull the zipper down at a tortuously slow pace. Jungwon has to hold his breath the more skin he reveals with his actions, he tries not to groan at the sight of your matching bra and underwear set, a striking color against your skin that has him drooling before he can even really get his hands on you. He carefully pushes the straps of the dress off your shoulders until the material drops and pools at your feet. 

He curses under his breath at the sight of your nearly naked body, his left hand comes down to slide past your waist onto your ass, groaning at the feeling of your soft skin. The curve of your ass attracts him to no end but before he could drop to his knees to worship you how he knows you deserve, you turn around to face him. Instantly his eyes come up to your cleavage before dropping down to the front of your panties, biting back a groan. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re stunning.” He compliments, eyes trailing back up to meet yours with no rush at all. You smile, pushing down a blush that you know is already painting your cheeks. Without saying another word, Jungwon watches in awe as you sink to your knees before him. Hands sitting pretty across your lap as you look up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours. Jungwon holds back another curse at the sight of you on your knees. 

“Is this ok, wonie?” The question is followed with your touch sliding up his thighs, playing with the clasp of his belt. Jungwon nods, already unbuttoning the top of his shirt and pulling his sleeves up to his elbows. You smile at the sight before bringing your hand down to squeeze at his covered bulge. Jungwon clenches his jaw at that, biting back another groan. 

“Don’t tease, baby.” You smile at that but ultimately do as you're told. Within seconds you’re pulling his pants and underwear down to reveal his entire length. The corners of your lips curve upwards when you hear him suck in a breath through his teeth once your fingers wrap around the base of him. 

With your eyes looking up at him you spit seductively onto his length, using your hand to stroke him until your spit has coated him entirely. “Haah” He sighs, he’s holding his shirt up with one hand, the other was clenched into a fist by his side. The second you actually wrap your pretty lips around the tip of his already leaking cock Jungwon actually tilts forward, having to hold his hand out against the wall behind you to keep himself upright. 

The feeling of your warm mouth taking him so prettily was enough to have his knees nearly buckling on their own accord. He would almost feel embarrassed if he wasn’t so incredibly turned on right now. Your mouth works quickly on him, you suck in your cheeks and slide your tongue along the underside of his cock. Your hand strokes what can’t fit in your mouth in time with your movements. A sense of pride washes over you and you look up and visibly see Jungwon struggling to keep it together. 

“Fuck, your mouth is so warm-s’tight. Shit, just like that, baby.” He grunts through clenched teeth. His hand drops to hold your hair out of the way, holding it in a makeshift ponytail. You suck his length harder and faster, ignoring the ache in your jaw once you feel Jungwon's grip tighten on your hair. He was getting close and you needed his release like you needed air. You pushed yourself even farther down his length, taking him as deep as you could before your throat constrict around him. You gag around him once but Jungwon only curses at the sound, feeling himself growing closer to his release. 

“Shit, right there baby, I’m so close.” He curses under his breath, trying to silence his grunts but the attempt is laughable. He’s so loud and whiny you can feel yourself growing wetter just from the sound. His sounds only get louder, at this point you’re clenching around nothing to just feel some kind of release. You have never seen someone look or sound so attractive in a state like this, all you can think about is how badly you want to do this again and again. 

His hand on your hair grips you tightly, forcing you deeper as he releases right down your throat, cursing out loud with your name on his lips. You swallow his release instantly, humming at the taste with his dick still inside you. You give him another moment to catch his breath before pulling back with a pop. Your hand caresses his thigh softly, allowing him a moment to come back down from his high. 

He blinks down at you, breathing hard. His hands help you up, instantly crashing his lips against yours. He could still taste himself on your lips and it only makes him groan. The ache between your thighs was becoming unbearable and you were positive you have never been this turned on in your life. 

“Get on the bed, baby.” He whispered against your lips, pressing one more swift kiss there before stepping back. His eyes never leave your body as you walk toward the bed, leaning your body over before laying down to give him the best view of your ass. Jungwon lets out another groan, already feeling himself growing hard again. His hands work fast to remove his clothing before meeting you at the foot of the bed. 

A gasp slips past your lips unintentionally with Jungwon pulling you by your ankles to the edge of the bed, he smirks. For the second time tonight, you watch in awe as Jungwon gracefully kneels to the ground, only this time it’s between your open thighs. He pushes your legs open softly and has to visibly hold back a groan upon seeing a wet patch right at the center of your underwear. 

He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss right at the inside of your thigh, trailing his lips closer and closer to where you need him most. A soft hum sounds from your throat, your eyes falling closed at the feeling. You can help but lift yourself on your elbows to watch him pull your underwear down, you didn’t want to miss a second of this. 

“Fuck, you’re just pretty everywhere, aren’t you, doll?” He compliments with his eyes never leaving your now bare pussy. He practically drools over the sight of your soaked folds, automatically leaning forward to press another kiss on the skin right above your cunt. 

You watch him lean back again only to spit slowly onto your folds just to watch it slide down your center. Your body jolts at the feeling to which Jungwon grins, he was going to enjoy the hell out of himself by teasing you like this. 

“Jungwon-” You’re about to start begging but he silences you with his index fingers coming up to slide through your folds, collecting your arousal and swirling it all the way up to your clit. A silent gasp shoots through you. He uses his thumb now to circle your clit once, twice, studying the way your body reacts to being played with like this. 

“You’re so wet, dripping all over my hand and I haven’t even started yet.” You’re not sure if he’s even talking to you anymore, his eyes are focused on your pussy, mesmerized with every twitch and pulse of your walls. His fingers circle your entrance, teasing your leaking hole with a delicious pace before finally sinking both inside you in one go. 

The moan that escapes you has Jungwon's dick twitching at attention, he watches his fingers pump inside you, pulling more of your juices out with each stroke. “Wonie..” Your moans and whines are fucking music to the brunettes ears, he decides right here and now that is his new favorite sound. His eyes travel upwards to watch your face, the picture of pure bliss and pleasure displayed all over your features. Without hesitating, Jungwon leans down to drag his tongue up the length of your folds, fingers still pulsing inside you. His tongue comes up to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue until your legs try to close around his head. 

“Jungwon! Wait-” You’re cut off by another moan that pushes through you. His speed picks up and his tongue moves harsher to match his pace. He shakes his head against your wet folds, “Tastes s’good, tastes like mine.” He groans, his voice sending another level of vibrations up your core. Your hands find their way to his hair to pull at and run through as you feel yourself growing closer to that pinnacle release. Another moan in the shape of his name slips past your lips in a breathless haze. 

Then he curls his fingers in a certain way that nudges that little spongy part inside of you so perfectly it has you seeing stars, that along with the way his tongue never moves away from your clit has your thighs tightening around his head and fingers pulling his hair to keep him exactly where he is. If that wasn’t evidence enough of your upcoming orgasm, the way you arched your back completely off the bed and the loud moan that shot through you was enough to have Jungwon press forward until he felt your walls squeeze his fingers. Your orgasm doesn’t just wash over you like you’re used to, this one shoots through you with the power of at least three orgasms in one. 

You cry out his name, twitching in his hold despite him pulling away softly to allow you a moment to catch your breath just as you did for him before. He admires the way your body reacts to his touch now, your cunt is damn near pulsing, crying for more. His hand caresses your thigh before crawling upwards to hover above you. 

“You’re so beautiful when you come, will you show me again?” He whispers against your lips, pressing a soft kiss there once and then twice. You nod, eyes struggling to fully stay open thanks to the earth shattering orgasm from before. “Please..please fuck me, wonie.” He groans at that, dropping his face into your neck and kissing your skin. 

“Fuck, you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.” 

You can only watch with anticipation as Jungwon slides his hardened dick through your slick folds, the tip catches onto your overstimulated clit making your gasp aloud. “So responsive for me.” He smiles then slides his tip back down to your entrance, teasingly slipping just the tip inside of you until you moan for him and then pulling back out. 

“Jungwon, please,” he does it again, sliding his tip in only to pull out and repeat it a couple more times until you’re practically crying, “you’re being so mean.” Your pout is what catches his attention, he grins at you before kissing your pouty lips. 

“Mean? That’s not mean baby, this is mean.” He slams his entire length into you in one go, a loud moan bordering on scream rips through your throat as your entire body jolts upwards on the bed at the sudden intrusion. The pain is quick to subside to pleasure as Jungwon mercilessly pounds into you right from the start. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust, instead opting for fucking into you fast and rough. His hands drag your legs over his shoulders, nearly folding you in half in order to thrust deeper into you. 

He was pounding you into the mattress so good you were already struggling to keep your eyes open. Jungwon admired the way your back arched and your head tilted back. He was absolutely captivated with your body, loving the way your hands alternated from holding onto the bedsheets and his own arms. 

Your walls molded around his cock, making you his perfect little cock sleeve much to Jungwon's pleasure. “So tight around me, you’re soaked through, baby. Shit, so wet, so warm, your pretty pussy's gonna make me come.” 

You can already feel your second orgasm of the night approaching, your walls tighten around him and you can barely give him a warning before you feel yourself falling apart. “That’s it, baby. So sexy coming around my dick like that.” He fucks into you as you come, never stoppping his movements. He lowers your legs from his shoulder, wrapping them around his waist instead in order to get closer to you. 

Now chest to chest, Jungwons trusts slow down as he kisses you lovingly, a stark contrast to the way he was just fucking you. 

“So good for me, you’ll give me another one right?” He’s asking but he doesn’t wait for an answer. Before you could protest with cries of overstimulation, Jungwon is already turning you onto your stomach, forcing you onto your knees with one hand pressing your head against the pillows. 

“You can take it, fuck.” His movements pick up again, slamming into you from behind. His eyes are trained on the way your ass jiggles with every thrust, his left hand comes down to grope and squeeze your ass and hips and his other still holds your head down. 

“Fuck, all mine. You’re all mine, no other motherfucker will ever have you like this again.” His thrusts are punishing now, almost like he was taking his anger out on you and you were starting to realize exactly why. 

“The asshole thinks he can touch you, you were mine before he even met you, I’ll make sure he remembers that, yeah?” The jealousy was pouring out of him with every word and thrust of his hips. You were moaning and crying into the pillows, your body already twitching with overstimulation and exhaustion. You would’ve never expected Jungwon to fuck you within an inch of your life, even worse you never expected it to feel so good. 

“I'm so close- need you to come with me. Fuck I need to feel you baby, please.” His groans have turned into whines now, thrusts growing sloppier but his hand comes around to rub at your clit in time with his movements. A sharp cry rips from your lips just as your third orgasm crashes through your body. Jungwon feels your walls constrict around him and suddenly he watches as your juices squirt out of you soaking his entire lower body and his bed below him. The sight alone is enough to bring Jungwon over the edge too, he grips the base of his cock once just before spilling all over your ass and lower back. 

Your body collapses onto the bed, legs feeling weak and shaking. Your brain was still catching up with your body, not even realizing you squirted for the first time until Jungwon flips you again over onto your back. 

“You’re such a pretty squirter, baby.” His tongue is already sticking out past his lips, eyes focused on your soaking pussy.

“Think you can do that again on my tongue?” 

PERMANENT TAGLIST : @wonscrchy @miniij @ni-kichromeheartzz @evansfangz @jakeycakeys @addictedtohobi @babydumplingpandabamboo @simjakeyjake @angelhyuka @nodoubtily @chanchamm @ni-k1ttie @yangw0ni3 @mystgene @enheenie @jeongspetal @mokacoca @8naqvg @cherryhwajoong @k-ra05650 @hsngx @hoonguin @yamzz67 @chaostudee @jayrassicpaaark @jakeswifey @rinaarii @mayouar @starboyhee @dolikecherrycoke @sugarcwtie @simj4k3 @simjaeyunslut @hwasencore @kristynaaah

PERMANENT TAGLIST : @wonscrchy @miniij @ni-kichromeheartzz @evansfangz @jakeycakeys @addictedtohobi @babydumplingpandabamboo @simjakeyjake @angelhyuka @nodoubtily @chanchamm @ni-k1ttie @yangw0ni3 @mystgene @enheenie @jeongspetal @mokacoca @8naqvg @cherryhwajoong @k-ra05650 @hsngx @hoonguin @yamzz67 @chaostudee @jayrassicpaaark @jakeswifey @rinaarii @mayouar @starboyhee @dolikecherrycoke @sugarcwtie @simj4k3 @simjaeyunslut @hwasencore @kristynaaah

You might have to kill Mr. Park, preferably with something incredibly sharp.

Every remark your boss throws at you, verbal or handwritten, trickles down your body like acid. It's a wonder you haven't been eaten alive by his criticisms already, the CEO cruel in his meticulous focus and scathing remarks.

These estimates look terrible.

My dog could create a better spreadsheet than this—before he chewed it up, anyway.

Do you always lack focus on projects like this?

Just because he's the head of Daydream Media does not mean he gets to parade around with the energy of a pompous cockatiel. As soon as the thought comes up, though, you shut it down. Cockatiels are much cuter than him, and probably a lot cuddlier too.

Working under the guy for twelve months, you know how unrelenting his desire for perfection can be. Starting his company straight out of high school, the business went from a passion project in his garage to a multi-tier musical instrument and audio equipment manufacturer that could make Yamaha blush.

Park's admirable work ethic drove you to apply for a job at his company in the first place. Yet, his need to micromanage others quickly overpowered all the qualities you first admired about the man. His head status practically ensures all he needs to do during work hours is oversee company meetings and sit prettily at his desk. So why did he have to be such a prick?

You're grumbling to yourself as you type out your response to his last email regarding your monthly sales report. Every clack of your laptop's keyboard feels and sounds like gunshots in your ears. You try to remember to stick to facts, keep your response level, and do all the things you've learned from years working with pretentious dickheads like Park.

But there's something about him specifically, the irritation he stirs in you so deeply ingrained beyond the surface of your dignity you can't seem to think rationally.

Your cubby mate, Sunghoon, notices the tension pervading your shoulders and neck, the veins in them close to bulging from your skin. He slaps you on the back with a manila folder, and you roll your eyes in response.

"What crawled up your ass and took a vacation?"

You give him your best fake smile as you punctuate your email's last sentence with a period. "Who do you think?"

"Santa Claus? I hate that fucker." Sunghoon's smirk can usually put you out of any funky mood you're in, but not today. You smile with closed lips instead, hoping the message gets across well. I love you, but it's not the best time.

You close the email and rotate your chair in his direction. Sunghoon may put too much gel in his hair and annoy you to no end, but he's your best friend, regardless. He's partially the reason you stick around the hell-ridden office you've made a home in for a year. "Mr. Park," is the only answer you give him to curtail his initial sardonic guess.

"Ah, head honcho." He flicks his gaze toward your boss's office, a stray hair whipping into his forehead. "What's he mad about now?"

"My latest stats for the new snare kits." You huff out a breath of air. Rubbing your temple, you try to curtail the impending headache on the horizon. "Don't know if he's pissed they're not selling as predicted or because I didn't make the headers on the sheet the right shade of green."

"Hey!" Sunghoon points one of his slender fingers in your face. "You know the guy uses night mode on his fancy PC all the time. He needs to see the projections, you heathen."

Just as a laugh is ready to escape your mouth, your computer pings. The notification reads the email is from the devil himself. As you click it to pop open the application in full-screen mode, you wonder what Park could say so quickly after you gave him a three-paragraph-length explanation on your report.

When you read the single line of text, any semblance of happiness turns to bile in your throat.

You'd think with your degree, you'd be able to spell "acquisition" correctly.

All the composure you tried to muster dies. Your jaw muscles tighten and your teeth gnash against each other as the words replay in your head over and over. He has no right, and yet he does at the same time. He didn't need to say it the way he did, and yet it's here in black and white for you to spiral because of, the exasperated and petulant tone practically hitting your eardrum in the way only his voice can.

You ruminate on your initial thought of murder, and you know even now—despite the ever-present reason to put the guy in a casket—it's childish.

But if you can't kill him, the less drastic option is to at least give him a piece of your mind.

Your chair bangs against the cubby opposite of yours when you stand up, and Sunghoon flinches. "Hey, don't do something you'll regret," your best friend warns.

"Trust me, I won't," you mutter quickly before storming off in the direction of the executive offices.

At lightning speed, you're in front of Jay Park himself. The man's ready to dig into a chocolate cupcake when you approach him.

"Do you get off on being an asshole?" The words come out biting and high-pitched, but every knot in your gut unfurls when you say it. His eyes bug out, and that gives you the perfect signal to continue before he can open his mouth with a witty comeback.

"I spelled one fucking word wrong in an email, and it was another excuse for you to pick me apart and prove you're the one calling the shots here. But having millions of dollars to your name or a shitload of success doesn't make you a good person. You treat so many people in this company like disposable pieces of garbage, when the only one who should feel like that is you!

"You're an arrogant, self-centered, irritable…" Your last words disintegrate on your tongue when you see the single pink candle strewn across his desk. The flame was puffed out long ago, but it tells you all you need to know.

You're giving your boss the proverbial middle finger on his birthday.

In the second between realizing you've been telling him off to considerable lengths for a long minute and the fact you've done so on his birthday of all days makes you flush. Your entire body drains of its color the longer you remain silent. How could you forget this day? Why did you have to find courage at the worst time?

He doesn't yell back, scoff, or do any of the telltale things you expect from him by now. Instead, all he does is laugh. He almost smashes his face into the cupcake in front of his lips as the chuckles exit his mouth.

"I thought Chaewon in accounting giving me this would be the highlight of my day," he lifts his cupcake for dramatic effect as he speaks, "but that…tirade has to be the best present I've had in a long time." He sets the cupcake down and stands up from his desk, but not before rolling the cuffs of his button up to his forearms, wiping the crumbs off of his fingers with disinterest.

You stutter, unsure how to continue now or what he plans on doing. As you try composing an apology, the automatic blinds to the windows that give Jay a bird's-eye view of the employee floor from his office come down. You slowly watch the people outside of the room leave the corner of your eye, and you gulp. "I—"

"I admire your courage, you know. Walking in here with that angry pout and little performance. I thought you couldn't get any cuter."

"I didn't pre-plan it," you interrupt him, some of your flare coming back in full color. Even as you say it, your mind hangs on his last word like a clothespin. Cuter?

You never would've expected that word to come from his mouth. Not in relation to you, anyway.

"Of course." His smile remains plastered across his face, but it doesn't meet his eyes. "Do you remember that team-building retreat in Seosan? It must've been around your three-month mark here with us."

You nod vigorously, going back to the memories of that vacation in your mind's eye. That word fits better, you think, when you recall sipping cocktails and lounging by the pool with Sunghoon and your mutual friend in sales, Jake. You did your typically professional routine by day, attending meetings and learning seminars like an astute employee. The nights that accompanied them were filled with fun and laughter you were glad to have with your new coworkers.

"Yes, I remember." You stand stock still even as he steps closer, the professional bubble on the precipice of being popped with every step he takes to get closer to you.

"Do you ever stop to think when my…excuses to pick you apart, as you said, began to occur?" He holds his fingers under his chin, pretending to contemplate the answer to the question with you, and while it riles you up, it leaves you more confused.

"It must've been…" You bite your lip, unsure what intentions are hiding behind his questions. "I'm not sure."

"One of the first emails I sent to you was marked right after we came back from the trip."

"I—I don't understand."

Jay laughs again, the sound hollow. "For an incredibly brilliant woman, it seems you need things made explicitly clear to you."

He's so close now, you smell the mint on his breath. It's intoxicating mixed with his cologne—Prada, you think. The mixture combined with his proximity makes your knees buckle a fraction. "Maybe something about you caught my eye, sipping Mai Tais one minute and being so prim and proper the next, and I've been spending the past excruciatingly long nine months trying to figure out what. All I know is that it's definitely not your penchant for spelling." His eyes gleam with sincerity, a rawness that you've never witnessed in his presence. This is the first time you've ever been alone together, truthfully.

"Respectfully, sir, there's nothing particularly eye-catching about me," you say meekly. "It's not like I'm the one with the company—"

Jay's lips slamming into yours is the last sensation you planned on feeling because of him. You can live with displeasure, annoyance, exasperation, but this is entirely new. He captures the inside of your mouth with his tongue, pressing in and probing like he's never felt someone more worthy of exploring before.

His fingers find purchase at your waist, and he takes your bottom half in both of his hands as he continues navigating your mouth. The spank he lands to one side pushes you further into him, and his body rumbles in delight. He's searching for the answer to his previous question; you can tell. What is it about you that's been driving him crazy, and continues to do so?

His intense physical analysis of you and your body makes you cry out, eager for more and not settling for anything else. Has this been always sitting under the surface, the tension you so adamantly assumed was hatred? You should've noted the way he stared at you from across the bar all those months ago, lights twinkling behind his head as he quietly observed you in all of your alcohol-flushed but starlit stupors.

Again, the words run around the two of you like a marathon, practically screaming in your ears: it's always existed, this tie between you both that you once assumed was founded on disdain.

Boy, were you fucking wrong.

Jay pulls away when he hears your moan fill the room. "Forgive me," he starts, "I just couldn't help myself." You must look breathless, seem dumbstruck, for him to hold you with such care and tenderness. You barely recognize the man in front of you, the tyrant you purported to know long gone.

He runs a finger across your bottom lip, and you can't fight the urge to take the digit into your mouth. When you bite down on the soft skin of his index finger, he groans. "I just apologized for my lack of control. Don't make me lose it again, princess."

The pet name shoots you in between the legs, your body jelly in his hold when his eyes stare you down so intensely. "What if I want you to…sir?"

He takes your throat in one palm and kisses you deeply, cutting off your breathing just a touch for you to focus only on his mouth. Like he's the only thing that can keep you breathing if you just give into him.

"I thought you hated me," he confesses in between kisses. He peppers them across your cheeks and takes a long pull at your mouth again before pushing you into the edge of his desk. You squeal when he lifts you up and sets you down on the glass tabletop, not stopping his barrage of kisses and licks to your skin.

"B-Because it's not normal to feel the opposite. To have a crush on your very powerful and intimidating boss isn't exactly smiled upon in the code of conduct, sir," you whisper as he trails his lips down your neck, across your collarbones. He even goes so far as to dip his nose towards the center of your cleavage. You never hated him, you realize. He frustrates you to no end, for sure, but that emotion clearly has many facets that you never dissected before.

"So you think I'm intimidating now?" Jay questions you with a lilt of humor that is unmissable. He unties your blouse and unclasps your bra in record time so both articles of clothing fall to the floor like raindrops, insignificant now that they're out of the way. It would be incredibly easy to get lost in the beauty of your chest, the peaks of your nipples and curve of your breasts, details Jay wants to take to his short and long term memory, but he's got a one-track mind that points south. If he enjoyed making you squirm with words before, he smirks to himself at how different it'll be for you when uses his body this time.

"I've always thought you were," you confess. You gasp when he bunches your skirt between his fingers to sit the material at your hips, exposing your lace panties. The fabric is soaked by now; you swear you can feel a damp spot forming under you and on his desk.

But he looks more than satisfied.

"Fuck, this is how wet you get?" The question is more for his ears than yours, and you whine from the lack of his touch on your skin, although you've had a plethora of that merely a second ago. You thought you were burning before, but now you're on fire and close to becoming ash before he's even truly done anything.

"Mr. Park, p-please," you beg, slightly gyrating against the glass desk for some relief. It's better than doing nothing to fix the ache he's created.

"It's Jongseong," he interrupts you with a smile. "Jay if it's easier pretty, but I do love it when you use my surname like that." He nips your lips again, licking inside your mouth lewdly.

"Lie back," he commands. It's hard to do as he asks with so much in the way, but the problem's immediately solved when he throws the contents on his desk—including his laptop—to the side. Everything clatters to the floor, but you fight the urge to react outwardly. The only physical reaction is your eyes going wide at the sound the clattering of his pencils, books, and electronics just made. Your reaction causes him to scoff, the sound on the edge of wickedness. "I can get all of this brand-new in a second. Don't focus on that," he says with his hands rubbing the outside of your thighs in tender circles, "and focus on laying down now, princess."

You let your bare back softly hit the glass. The desk is cold against your naked skin, but the sensation's immediately replaced by the warmth of Jay's breath against you. "You're beautiful. Just like I dreamed," he whispers, partly amazed and fully intoxicated, before diving in.

Jay immediately laps and sucks along your folds—the sounds of his mouth working your hole reverberating across the walls—as if he's been starved for decades. He takes your clit between his lips as a finger prods your center. The digit hooks inside of your core without issue. He eats you out like no man has ever done to you or for you before, his method alternating between long strokes of his fingers and little flicks of his tongue. How could heaven be so attainable with someone you initially saw as the devil incarnate?

"You asked me if I get off on being an asshole," he whispers into your cunt. "I don't. But I just might from touching you. You taste impeccable." He slaps your clit abruptly, making you keen. He presses the hand originally at your neck against your chest, your heartbeat thrumming against his palm. The tempo is all for him, a beat he wishes to hear on loop forever.

“It's like you were made for me," he whispers, "the perfect little slut splayed out like this." He inches your thighs further apart to see the way your hole glistens with his spit and your gathering arousal. The sight makes the strain of his erection in his slacks a touch more painful. It begs for him to do something else fast to relieve the surmounting pressure, but he puts off the urge for now. "I fucking love it."

"Jong—sir—I'm gonna come," you announce, the lower half of your center bumping into his chin harshly from how hard you're following the movements of his mouth. You shouldn't chase it so fiercely, but you want him to pick you apart in this way. You've never wished for anything more in your life.

And you know he'll put you back together just to repeat the process all over again.

"Come for me, princess. I want to feel it on my tongue." He replaces his finger with the wet muscle, dipping inside of you to lap up all of you before you completely crumble. Jay takes it all beautifully, allowing his face to be covered in you in the aftermath. You scream out as your release continues overtaking your better judgement. Your brain doesn't care how loud your cries of pleasure must be or have been.

Your coworkers saw you walk in here moments ago; they have to know what you're getting up to, legs spread for your boss and letting him use you for all of his fantasies. But, as you float back to consciousness, you don't seem to give a fuck about any of them.

"You did so well for me, pretty." Jay unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly just a touch to pull his cock from his pants. He hisses when he touches himself, and you know he must be aching from no stimulation prior to this moment. "Think you can handle one more?"

"Yes, sir, please." You say it with such a twinkle in your eye, Jay doesn't seem to care if he breaks the Italian-made iron of his desk. He has to have you, to cover your body with his and push you beyond your limits again.

Jay does exactly that, squishing you between his white button up and the glass underneath you, but you wouldn’t mind if he collapsed your lungs at this point. He's taken you to the edge of breathlessness by now, so there's nothing stopping him from fully toppling you over.

He slides inside of you without issue, your previous arousal creating the right amount of slip. But he's so big, his cock tightly filling your pussy with every inch, the tears that fill your eyes are unavoidable. "S-sir, it's t-too much—"

Jay halts the lie on your lips with his own, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip with a fierce power. "It's not nearly enough, pretty. You feel incredible, so tight. Such a tight little cunt, and all mine."

You nod your head as he thrusts, fat tears falling down your cheeks as he sets a relentless rhythm. The iron fixtures of Jay's desk squeak and tremble from how hard his hips snap up into you, but the only sounds he focuses on are your mewls and labored breaths. You're a vision, fucked out and trembling, and he can't picture a moment where you don't captivate his very being.

The answer to his earlier question hits him like a flutter of wind to the face: it's everything about you. Your relentless effort to every minute task that mirrors his own, your smart retorts to his endless critiques, the way your eyes crinkle at the edges when you laugh. It's all that pervades his mind, but the new images of your slung mouth and sounds you make on the brink of your second orgasm take precedence on the list of ways you enthrall him.

He reaches in between you to pinch and roll your clit against his thumb and index finger, feeling his own release on the tip of his tongue. "Come with me, princess. Let me feel it."

You don't need to hear it a second time to listen to his words clearly. You rattle around his cock like thunder that follows a stroke of lightning, your body shaking as your body surges with endorphins. If your first orgasm was bright and blinding, this one is all-encompassing and soul-shattering, threading into every seam of you so you don't forget how it feels to be pleasured so well, loved so thoroughly.

Jay comes right after you, his warmth flooding you as his body goes taut from his own shocks of numbing pleasure. You know he feels the same, with the way his brows knit together and his jaw slacks. His hips stutter to a full stop, and he can barely pull out of you without his body quaking. He watches the traces of his cum leak out, mixing with the arousal still surrounding your hole, and he knows he's in it now. He'll never go back.

You slump against him when he lays back on the table. The staccato of his heartbeat sweeps through your right eardrum. The muscle's tempo is an exact match for your own racing chest.

"I can't believe I was so loud," you murmur into the silence that follows your labored breaths. Jay looks down at you with a dazed smirk, and you giggle with a shy smile before tucking your face in between your fingers.

Jay takes both palms in his own to kiss, and semblances of the sweat on his skin touch you like dew. It's beautiful to be so wrong about someone, this gentleness he's displaying proving that fact perfectly. "The glass is laminated, and the rest of the walls are soundproof, princess. Nobody could hear you in here unless I truly gave it my all."

You smirk, unruffled by the fact your boss always thinks one step ahead of everyone, even in situations like this. "That wasn't your all?" You blush and tuck your face into his neck, the question rhetorical and teasing. "Seems you have a lot to show me."

"That I will." He takes your jaw between his fingers when he kisses you again. Mint still lingers on his tongue behind the traces of your arousal, and you could become a puddle again from how unreal it all seems. The past thirty minutes, the preceding moments before you walked into his office, and the plans that lay ahead for the future. "But not before I take you on a proper date."

Months later, you sit at your desk with only your boss on your mind, his eyes lingering on you even as his CFO Lee Heeseung discusses something menial with him. You try to go back to your laptop screen, the seasonal trends report for the new line of guitar strings begging to be completed, but it's no use. You're enthralled with the man across the office space, just like he is with you.

So when the email to meet him in his office for an "oral report" of the latest documented projections comes a few moments later, you don't question him, the man you love.

You thought you wanted to kill your boss before, but it was truly unexpected how many deaths—both little and enormous—Jay Park seemed to have in his pocket for you.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @jjunberry @frenchkisstheabyss @prkhaven @tinycatharsis @fangel @aaa-sia @yvnempire @addictedtohobi @innocygnet @filmnings @lovetaroandtaemin @xylatox @dawngyu

𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 ── .✦ @kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @/moadiarynet @/pirateeznet @/thediamondlifenetwork @sweetvenomnet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

When you were thirteen years old, you used to gawk at the starry sky often, which looked so far away, vast, and enigmatic. And you felt butterflies in your stomach. Somewhere in the stars rested comfortably your fate. The summer breeze was warm yet refreshing, your young eyes sparkled under the twinkle of the constellations. Fingers brushing against the fresh grass, a distant melody playing in your ears. A magical moment, you thought. Your age did not stop you from fantasizing about soulmates, which were a wonderful occurrence. At least for everyone.

The first time you heard about them, you were around six years old when you read a fairy tale about a princess that met her love in every single life she had. You were far too young to understand some of the implications of meeting someone in every timeline, however, the way the author wrote the first encounter of the girl and the boy made your tiny heart leap.

The princess was reading in her library when the boy interrupted her reading. He had the most beautiful eyes, yet he was a commoner and a wanted criminal. She couldn’t shake the feeling that swept her from her feet when they locked gazes. Usually, soulmates have their own unique way of communicating when you have met the right person. In this case, you could see a shift in the irises of your partner. The tone usually was a product of how you were feeling. So, the girl’s eyes turned a warm and light peach, and the boy’s irises became deep blue.

Not being able to contain your emotion, you jogged toward your mother. With one hand, you clutched the skirt of your dress in a tiny fist to avoid tripping while the other held the book behind your back. With a wide smile plastered across your face giggling; you spotted your mother. She waved at your tiny figure, and you hugged her right leg.

“Mommy, mommy! How did you meet dad?"

Your curious eyes searched for answers while a confused mother raised her eyebrow, crouching to meet your eyes.

“Now, why would you ask that, my little devil?”

Shying away, you fidgeted with the hem of your sleeves, feet moving a little bit, jittery. The afternoon sun entering through the living room windows clashed with your skin, brightening your soft features. Your mother’s eyes were always so hypnotic; they never lacked the ability to watch through you.

Happily, you held up your book. A girl with blonde hair sat on the edge of a pond. The water glowed; tiny specks of dust floated through the air, circling the face of the princess. Her eyes were focused on a lonely white flower that bloomed on a tiny island in the center of the pool. Her right hand was trying to reach for it.

Your mother’s gaze softened. The shadows shifted across her face while she hid a strand of hair behind her ear. A knowing smile and a sigh. This book used to be hers a long time ago; it had been passed through her family for generations. She kept the tradition alive.

“You want to know about soulmates, don’t you?”

Nodding, you gestured towards the book. And with a high-pitched voice, showing your baby teeth, you said, "Yes! Just like the princess. Are you and dad soulmates?”

Closing her eyes, she tried to hide the bittersweet look on her face; you didn’t really understand what this meant—not yet. Standing, she took your hand and walked you towards the couch. Grabbing you so you could sit beside her while she hugged you, she reached for the book.

“Well, soulmates seem cool. Don’t they?” You nodded, feet dangling from the brown couch, and you brought one hand to your mother’s, caressing her skin. “Meeting the person that was born to be with you is romantic, to say the least. However, my dear, there are reasons soulmates are complicated.”

Opening the first page to your book, she pointed at the princess.

“But you know, she is a princess. Right? She is usually expected to marry a young prince or even a king. However, her soulmate ended up being a commoner. A queen would not want her daughter with a thief.”

Huffing, you shook your head in protest.

“But they love each other, mommy. Love is awesome.”

“Yes, love is awesome. But you can love someone who isn’t your soulmate. There are instances where you never meet them to begin with. I would even dare say that is the usual.” You wanted to interject before she could continue. “I never met mine. Not even once.”

You tilted your head, not really understanding what she had just said.

Sighing, mommy took your hands in between hers. She looked at you, lovingly, so fond of you.

“Soulmates usually find each other throughout every single life they live. You can count how many you have met by how many star-shaped moles you have on your body. For example, my friend Lily has met her partner sixteen times, all of these are marked on her body. I, however, have none. No star shaped mole.”

Switching between looking at the drawing of the princess and your mom something clicked inside yourself. You brought your index finger towards your mouth, biting it lightly. Thinking hard, trying to stop the waves of worry that overcame you.

She understood you, she had to live this same truth with her mother.

“Yes, love. This does mean your dad and I aren’t fated to be together.”

You pouted, disappointment taking over your body. Your mom patted your back.

“Dear, this does not mean you will suffer the same fate. But do not make your life based on the hope of finding a soulmate.” She smiled, sincerely. Letting you go so she could sit properly, she showed you her lower back, where a lonely lily of the valley could be seen. This wasn’t one of the things people got with the needles. It looked like a birthmark.

“This is what our family has had throughout the years. None of your relatives has met their soulmate, but we inherited this. We might not be a part in the play of hopeless romantics, but the universe still made room for us.”

You remained silent, not daring to ask what you wanted. Fearing the answer.

And, years after that, you have never said it out loud.

From that moment onwards you kept your family secret to yourself, trying to not feel shame or sorrow. When you were ten, your father found his soulmate. You were not naïve anymore; you could read between the lines and understand what was at play.

The conversation you once had with your mother was replaying in your head while you heard them discuss it downstairs. He was communicating the fact that he met his once-thought-lost partner. You loved your dad; he was the best man you have ever met. He took so good care of you and showed his affection constantly. His demeanor was always calm and soft-spoken, he patted your head often. This overlapped with the man you were hearing today. He was completely broken.

You crawled a little bit closer to the edge of the stairs so you could see a little bit better. Mom and dad were a few feet apart, him in the kitchen and her sitting at your dining room. She was very quiet, looking at every movement of his, yet her eyes were distant. As if they were on another land.

Urging your mother to answer he let the tears slide through his cheeks. Pleading to her for an answer, a sound, anything. He never stopped talking, telling her how much their marriage meant to him and that he would never leave her because they loved each other. Because he loved his family.

So, it was a surprise when your mother got up and walked close to him. She placed her right hand on his right shoulder, smiling. And said, “I think is best if we get a divorce.”

You placed your hand on your mouth, muffling your cries, taken aback. Pulse racing, you crawled back to your room and cried yourself to sleep, worrying about the fate of your family. Your father had left the house the next morning.

Trying to play dumb, you asked where he was. Your mother shrugged and said that her feelings for him had changed, and they decided to part ways.

You knew it was a lie.

You never really lost hope, being young had a certain magic. You fought the knowing truth about your family. Even when it was tattooed on your brain, scalding, hurting. Always finding a way to comfort yourself, you kept living. That year you spent your summer break looking at the stars so many hours you started to recognize constellations. You were hoping to find a message destined to you—at least something had to be made for you.

You grew, fighting to keep the illusion alive. Even now that you were seventeen you had dreams of the stars, of places you have never visited. But it was all imagination and a longing for love. But yesterday, your last day of school before graduating, something changed within you.

You liked a guy whom you knew was not destined to be with you, but you never really cared. If your parents had managed to be together for a decent amount of time, you could live happily for a few years as well. It was what you could allow yourself.

You had met Beomgyu in your first day of high school. He was pretty and cheery, he looked otherworldly, ethereal even. His features were not common, which made him popular in your school. Since soulmates were the craze lately, because a famous actress found her soulmate, every girl dreamed about being his fated partner. You didn’t, you at least wanted to live an ordinary life. As close to normal as you could get. He was always so kind and attentive with everyone that it was hard to stop the fantasies; however, he had a certain liking to you. He usually spoke to you on the hallways, asking for notes or for your opinion after class.

Today, you were both walking out of school. You asked him if he could speed up because your best friend Layla was waiting outside for you. A few meters from the entrance he changed the usual conversation topic.

“Hey, do you like movies?” His hands were hidden inside his sleeves, a little smile forming on his lips. He looked shy, timid, almost nervous. It was odd seeing someone so tall get shy.

You took a few seconds to answer, laughing a little.

“Why? Yes, I love movies. I like going often to the cinema as well.” Stealing a few glances from him, you waited for his answer.

“I was wondering, since its summer break, do you want to watch a horror movie with me?”

He said that while he waited for you to cross the doors first, then following you. You found this cute, he was attentive. Not being the type to date a lot, you felt special. A little bit. You were not dense enough to not notice that this was not a friendly invitation.

Feeling bubbles in your chest, you nodded. “Yes! I love horror” You stretched the ‘o’ in the word love, excited. Spotting your friend, you walked towards her. “Right. I realized I have never given you my phone number. Here let me…”

Trailing off because you noticed he wasn’t listening anymore, you stopped walking. His eyes were set somewhere ahead of you, attention fully focused on something else. You searched for what it could be, intrigued, until you saw it.

He was walking slowly towards your best friend, Layla. They were both looking at each other in a way you couldn’t describe. Understanding clicked inside of you when you saw Beomgyu’s dark hair turn pristine white. Your friend’s hair lost all its ginger color, replacing it with the same shade he had. They were in their own world now, seeing and feeling something, you could never have. Never comprehend.

You knew you were getting in their way, so you politely waited on the side, few meters away from them. Not daring to look because it was little bit awkward, you locked your gaze on the dirty concrete instead. Nevertheless, everybody was looking at them, surprised, some girls were cursing because of what this meant. Others had their hands clasped together, dreaming for this to happen to them one day.

Because they had found each other, they were soulmates.

You congratulated Layla and Beomgyu and left them alone. Not even trying to pick up where you left off. He didn’t even try to look apologetic; it wasn’t his fault. It was meaningless now, and you knew better than to meddle. You were genuinely happy for Layla, but there was a certain feeling that bloomed in you that day. You couldn’t describe it perfectly, but you knew it was rotten. The kind of feeling that wilts flowers— twisted in its own way.

You walked slowly to your house that day, expressionless, going straight to bed. You were not in the mood to cry, instead you stared for a long time at the ceiling, thinking. And when the sun was setting, you recalled what your mother had once said, ‘The universe made room for us’. It angered you, to be played with by some unknown force that ruled the earth, that took decisions for you. Why couldn’t you just be happy? As unfair as it was, it was just what was decided for you a long time ago. Eclipsing that anger, was something deeper, hopelessness. And that could not be mended, even though you had worked hard to sustain it, to be happy and live. There was nothing there anymore.

If you couldn’t find love, that was fine. You were not going to hope for it anymore anyway.

✦ • ─── AUGUST 30, 2026. 8 AM

Your phone buzzed against the cardboard boxes beside your bed, rattling your empty glass of water and shocking you awake. At first, you didn’t understand where the noise had come from and stared at your ceiling, disoriented.

You had fallen into such a heavy sleep last night that you hadn’t even heard Violet coming in through the cracked window. Hadn’t texted Yeonjun that she was here.

Shit, you didn’t even know if she was here.

Bleary-eyed, you sat up and squinted through the narrow gap in your bedroom door. The flat was so quiet that it made your stomach knot.

Then something white moved past the leaves of your monstera.

Your tension eased. You grabbed your phone.

REINA [8 AM] you up? coming over in 30 if yes

Without thinking, you typed back:

YOU [8:03 AM] yes ok

Then, before your mind properly caught up, you switched to another chat to inform Yeonjun about Violet and quickly locked your phone again.

There was a faint smell of rain in the flat. You shut the window and went into the kitchen.

Violet meowed the moment she saw you stumbling in, and kept meowing until you realised to open the curtains for her. It was another overcast day, but the faint light still hurt your eyes.

It was only as you splashed cold water over your face that it struck you how bizarre it was for Reina to come over before ten on a Sunday.

By the time the intercom buzzed, you’d already convinced yourself that something awful had happened. You analysed her muffled it’s me, let me in, looking for signs of distress: a trembling voice, perhaps a stifled sob.

Nothing.

You were still confused when you opened the door.

Reina looked the same as always, albeit slightly tired, her long hair damp from the drizzle. Immediately, she began to complain about the trip upstairs.

“Jesus,” she wheezed, shoving a white bakery box into your hands and pulling you into a hug. “How does this building pass inspection? This lift is pre-war. And the stairs have the incline of a fucking ladder.”

You laughed into her shoulder. “You’re just very small.”

“So, that’s discrimination, then. There should be someone we can call about—oh.” You felt her stiffen just before she pulled away. “There’s a cat here.”

You turned.

Violet sat politely on the armrest of the sofa, staring at Reina with wide, cautious eyes.

“Yeah,” you said, setting the bakery box on the kitchen island. “That’s Violet.”

You reached for the cupboard above the sink and pulled down two mugs.

Behind you, Reina stayed silent, eyes locked on the cat. “Yeonjun’s Violet?”

The back of your neck prickled.

“Yes,” you said, keeping your tone even. “She kept showing up here every morning, so we decided to just let her stay.”

Reina frowned as she shrugged off her damp raincoat and draped it over the back of the sofa. Violet leaned in to give it a sniff.

“You decided,” she repeated. You pretended to be deeply engrossed in picking out coffee capsules. “Together?”

“Well, yes,” you said. “It’s his cat.”

“Right. It’s his cat. Spending the day in your flat.” She parted her lips, suddenly amused. “Hey—that rhymed. But also, what the fuck?”

“It—okay, listen.” You shoved a capsule into the machine. “Did something happen? I mean, I love having you here, obviously, but it’s barely nine in the morning.”

“Oh.” She climbed onto a stool at the kitchen island, tucking one leg underneath herself. “Well, how about you tell me what happened? Bin and I left last night and missed all the entertainment, apparently.”

Something bitter twisted in your stomach. “You didn’t miss anything.”

“No?” She grinned. “So, what did you do after we left?”

“I went home.”

“Mhmm. And who did you go with?”

You leaned back against the cupboards, palms pressing into the cold marble on either side of you.

“We live in the same building,” you said.

Reina tapped her fingers rhythmically against the countertop. “Right. And you’re co-parenting a cat.”

“We’re not—okay, we’re not co-parenting. It’s just a cat, Rei.”

“I’ve got nothing against the cat,” she said, though she shot Violet another wary look. Under normal circumstances, Reina adored cats. Under these circumstances, however, she did not trust them. “It’s just that, um—I was joking before, about feeling like we were back in grad school. But are we actually back? Because between the party and this, it’s very—”

“We’re not back,” you said.

Thankfully, the coffee machine clicked off before Reina could say anything else. You handed her the blue mug with a red heart at the bottom, the foam trembling slightly on the surface, then turned back to make your own.

“He lives downstairs,” you said. “And his cat keeps coming up through the fire escape. It made more sense to leave her here instead of texting him every five minutes.”

“Oh,” Reina said lightly. “So, you’re texting, too.”

You winced. “Well, the cat keeps showing up. I can’t exactly throw her out.”

“Mhmm. Just like you can’t throw Yeonjun out, yeah? Funny how that works.”

You pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek.

“Well,” you said, “he’s not here now, is he?”

“Not yet, I guess,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. It burned down her throat exactly the way she liked it. “Has he been over, then?”

“Only to pick up the cat.”

It felt unpleasant, knowing that it was technically true, but still skipped over the peach cobbler and the lobby and the argument in the stairwell and the smoking area outside the restaurant.

Shit, you might as well have been back in grad school.

“And,” Reina continued, watching you pick up your red mug, “have you been over to his place?”

You lingered with your back to her for a second longer, fingers curled around the mug even as the ceramic burned your palms.

“I, uh.” You cleared your throat. “Once.”

“Oh, once.” Reina set the mug down on the countertop a touch too hard. “That’s interesting.”

“To help with a fern,” you added, turning around. “That’s it.”

“To—” She frowned. “To help with a what?”

You sat down opposite her and opened the box she’d brought. There were four cupcakes inside, with swirls of chocolate and vanilla frosting on top. The flat filled with the scent of warm sugar.

“He got a plant,” you explained.

“And he needed your help with it?”

“To find where to put it.”

“Where to—oh.” She picked up a vanilla cupcake from the box. “Is he four years old?”

Your lips twitched. “S’just a fern.”

“Right.”

Outside, the rain thickened, pattering against the windows. The whole flat dimmed, as though you’d been plunged underwater.

Violet, bothered by the noise, hopped off the sofa and trotted towards the bathroom. Bless her. She was probably going to inspect your washing machine; it appeared to have started leaking again. Either that, or you’d spilt water there last night after getting home.

You tried not to remember.

“So,” Reina said finally, taking a thoughtful bite, “it’s just a fern. And just a cat. And just a party.”

You spent an unnecessary minute peeling the paper from the base of the chocolate cupcake. “Right.”

“Mhmm.” She swallowed. “Won’t draw parallels to a year ago. But you see, of course, how easy that’d be, yeah? I mean, you said nothing was happening last time, too—”

“I see it.”

“Right.” She ran her tongue over her lower lip, fighting back a smile. “So, what actually happened yesterday? Because he spent the entire night following you around and then famously left with you.”

Your nose scrunched. “Is that really famous?”

“Did you check your phone?”

You took a large bite of your cupcake and tried to remember where you’d left your phone. The chocolate chips were half-melted, soft enough to stick briefly to your teeth.

“Wha’ should I have checked it for?” you asked through the mouthful.

“Doesn’t matter.” She waved dismissively with her mug. “Don’t unmute the group chat.”

“Oh. Brilliant.”

You could only imagine what was happening in the group chat that had otherwise been dead since graduation. Last you’d checked, Beomgyu and Nara had been arguing about which colour shoes went with the gown. She’d rather die, she insisted, than be caught in beige heels (she ended up wearing white).

“Is that why you came over, then?” you asked, lowering your cupcake to the island.

“Yes,” Reina said. “Had to hear everything straight from the source.”

“Not much to hear.”

“Mm. Give me a moment to process what I’ve already heard.”

You sighed and took another bite.

For a while, the two of you focused on eating and drinking.

Reina was mentally calculating how many flights of stairs separated her fists from Yeonjun’s face—just in case.

You, meanwhile, considered the medical likelihood of liquefying and seeping into the kitchen floorboards so you wouldn’t have to answer any of her inevitable questions.

Unfortunately, you remained solid.

“So,” Reina said at last, folding her cupcake wrapper into a perfect square, “should I be asking about the two of you going home together last night?”

You took a sip of coffee. It tasted bitter today. Should’ve added more sugar.

“You shouldn’t,” you said. “We just went home.”

Reina seemed willing to accept that and nodded once. “Okay. What happened leading up to going home, then?”

Your gaze fell to the cracked corner of the marble island. You couldn’t remember if the crack had come with the flat or if you’d somehow caused it yourself.

“I, uh—well, there was a point when I went out for a smoke,” you said slowly. “And he… came out, too.”

“And then what?”

Your eyes flicked briefly back to hers, then away again. “I’d rather not say.”

Reina paused with her mug halfway to her mouth.

“Oh.” She straightened so quickly that the stool creaked beneath her. “That—okay. Is he fucking with your head again?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’ll assume he is anyway.” She took a large sip to soothe the tickling in her throat. “Walk me through the thought process there, then. Come on.”

You clicked your tongue against your teeth. “I don’t think thoughts were involved in that process, to be honest.”

Reina tightened both hands around her coffee in a visible effort to behave maturely.

She did not succeed.

It started with one snort, then another. Then she caught the twitch in your mouth and bent forward against the island, laughing properly.

Despite the reluctant smile pulling at your lips, you gave her a deeply miserable look.

“Sorry,” she wheezed. “Sorry. God.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Okay. Ready to be an adult about this. What, um—what are we thinking now, then, babe? Surely, the thoughts are back now, yeah?”

You looked down into your mug. The foam lingered on the sides in pale rings.

Last night, you’d deliberately avoided thinking. Just returned home, washed your face, brushed your teeth, and gone to bed. But now, sitting here with Reina, your mind seemed to crack open, and every memory flooded in backwards: from the scarf Violet had dragged out of your box, to the dark basement corridor with the grey sofas on your first day of classes.

“I—” Your voice caught. You cleared your throat. “Remember that game we had? About which of us would be the last to find a campus crush?”

Reina didn’t understand where this was going, but her expression soured instantly at the memory.

“Yeah,” she said. “Still annoyed I lost my own game.”

You smiled faintly and took another sip from your mug.

“Well, at one point,” you said, “I texted you saying I’d lost. And then, about a minute later, I changed my mind. Don’t know if you remember tha—”

“Oh. I remember,” she said, pointing her cupcake wrapper at you. “First day of classes. Don’t think you ever told me who your crush was.”

It startled you that she recalled the exact date. Then again, over the entire course of the game, you’d only told her you’d lost once.

“Yeah,” you said with a long exhale. “Well. That was Yeonjun.”

“That wa—” Her expression turned blank.

You nodded, already bracing yourself.

Reina stared at you for three whole seconds before blinking.

“The puzzle pieces,” she said, “continue to fall into place.”

You snorted, lifting your mug before the instinct to minimise everything could kick in.

You remembered, still against your will, telling Yeonjun about this: on the sofa in his living room, while he’d had his cheeks stuffed full of grapes. He’d been euphoric. You tried not to linger on the memory.

“Right,” you said, swallowing the coffee. “So what I’m thinking now is… he probably shouldn’t have caught me off-guard back in grad school. I obviously must’ve liked him a little. I don’t know.”

Reina nodded carefully. She was trying to mirror your vocabulary, so she wouldn’t force conclusions onto you that you hadn’t yet reached yourself.

“Okay,” she said. This was her buffer word. “That—you’ve admitted that. That’s very good.”

A small smile appeared on your lips. “Oh, gentle parenting. Cheers.”

She let out a quiet snicker and nudged the cupcake box towards you.

You picked the one topped with chocolate sprinkles. The brown frosting had smudged slightly against the lid.

“The thing is, though,” you said, peeling back the wrapper, “he told me I’d won right after I accepted that—oh, hey, this doesn’t feel like a bet anymore. And I don’t want it to be. That—that’s when he said s’over. Fuck you and your feelings, basically.”

Reina reached for the last cupcake in the box. There was a stripe of chocolate smeared across the white icing.

“And,” you continued, “because everything between us was so brief, it feels like I haven’t even earned the right to feel this fucked up about it. Hurt, angry. Whatever. S’like it’s embarrassing. There’s this voice in my head constantly going, get a grip, it was only two weeks.”

The kitchen fell quiet once you finished speaking; the rain had softened back to a drizzle outside. At some point, Violet had returned to inspect the windows of the living room again.

Reina stared silently at the crack in the countertop.

Never—not once—in the year and a half since things ended with Yeonjun, had you openly admitted the bet had hurt you.

She’d seen that it had, of course. Seen the exhaustion, the irritability. She’d walked in on you sitting motionless at your desk, both hands over your face. You’d found an excuse every time your eyes met: stress, your thesis, New York. You were just tired. Just hadn’t slept enough.

Reina had even joked about him a few times, always gauging your reaction. You were consistent then, too: oh, I don’t care, he can get fucked.

This, right now, was very new.

“That was fucked up, ending the bet,” Reina said finally, setting her cupcake back down on the island. “Do you think I should’ve knocked him out when—”

Her focus drifted when Violet padded across the floor and came to a stop beside her stool.

“Oh, hi, baby,” she murmured, bending slightly towards the cat. “Came to help us figure out what your dad’s problem is? Think he’s just deeply unwell? Non compos mentis?”

You snorted. The majority of Reina’s co-workers at her NGO were former lawyers. She’d never trusted lawyers and had taken up studying Latin to make sure they knew what they were doing (they did not).

Violet, who did not speak Latin, sprang onto the island.

“Oh—hey!” Reina snatched her cupcake away just as Violet leaned in for a sniff and perhaps a little lick. “I haven’t agreed to share.”

The cat sat down in the middle of the countertop and turned her head towards you with a keen meow.

Snickering, you climbed off your stool.

Yeonjun had brought over a small plastic bag of treats the last time he dropped off her food. It sat beside the coffee machine now, clipped shut with one of your hairpins.

You shook out a cube of tuna into your palm.

“Here,” you said, lowering your hand towards her. “How’s this for you, little one?”

Violet accepted the treat immediately and leapt off the counter, carrying it back to her spot by the window. The rain had stopped altogether now, though the clouds still hung low outside.

Reina watched her with a faint smile.

“You’ve got snacks for her and all,” she said gently.

You lowered yourself back onto the stool and didn’t reply.

“Alright, then,” she said, taking a bite of her cupcake and turning back to you. “Where were we—ah, yes.” She swallowed. “Me beating up Yeonjun. Or do you want to do it yourself?”

You finished your cupcake in a few quick bites.

“I wanted to,” you said, wiping crumbs off your hands. Reina brightened. “But he kind of ran away from me the last time I tried to talk to him. Literally got into his car and drove off. And even later, when I found him again to ask about the—the whole scheme, he just walked off again.”

“Right.” She took a long sip of coffee. It was completely lukewarm now. “Break his legs, s’what I think. Never going to walk off again.”

You laughed.

Reina appreciated the momentary lightness. She set her mug back down on the island.

It made sense, she thought, why you’d denied being affected by this for so long. Getting hurt was one thing, but handing that hurt to someone and asking them to explain it, only for them to walk away, was another.

“What’s happening now, then?” she asked eventually. “Has he—I mean, he’s been downstairs for weeks now, yeah? And his cat’s practically moved in.” She glanced at Violet, who seemed to have fallen asleep against the monstera pot. “I’m assuming you’ve talked at least a little.”

You sighed. “Not really. We mostly talk about Violet.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Mostly.”

You took your time folding the cupcake wrapper.

“He did offer to explain,” you admitted, wiping icing from your lips with your index finger. “Said we needed to talk.”

Reina didn’t need to ask. She already knew you’d refused, and that was likely why Yeonjun had been trailing you all night yesterday.

“I think,” she said, uncomfortably serious now, “that would probably be good. Listening to him.”

You stared at your hands.

“For closure, first of all,” she continued. “To, um—to understand what actually happened.”

“And second of all?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “You’d figure out what comes next once you’ve heard why he ended everything so suddenly.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly sudden,” you said. “We did say the bet was—”

“Oh, come on,” she cut you off with a flick of her hand. “You can’t seriously believe it was really just a bet. Something had to have happened.”

“Did it, though?” You finally looked up. “He literally had a scheme to use me to embarrass his parents.”

Reina exhaled, forcing the lid of the cupcake box to tremble.

The scheme made no sense to her.

She’d made Soobin explain it to her three separate times and punished him by sleeping at home instead of at his house after each explanation. It remained excruciatingly stupid every time she heard it.

So, Yeonjun had wanted to date someone below his social status to spite his parents.

Reina had never held much hope for him, but surely he had to have been fucking joking. She’d seen the way he’d looked at you.

“Please don’t think I’m trying to defend him,” she said. “Fuck him, actually. But I thought that scheme wasn’t the reason he started the bet?”

You gave a weary shrug. “Maybe not. But the bet was still an ego boost.”

“Sure. But then, uh—he told you he had feelings for you,” she said, her gaze fixed on you in case she said too much. “That’s pretty far from that whole I’m the best in the world, and everyone loves me act.”

“Could’ve just been saying shit.”

“I guess,” she allowed, leaning back. “But do you honestly believe that?”

Your gaze dropped to the floor.

You remembered how Yeonjun had looked in the stairwell when he said he wanted to explain everything. The way he’d looked last night, too, clinging to that lamppost.

“No,” you admitted, but the word bruised on its way out. It felt like stepping on the same rake and taking the handle to the forehead all over again.

Reina nodded slowly.

“Right,” she said. “So, that’s what doesn’t add up. If he had feelings for you, why end the bet at all? You weren’t rejecting him. He had to know you liked him back. He’s a fucking idiot, obviously, but he’s not that stupid.”

That earned her a small twitch of your lips. Reina considered it a triumph.

“Soobin and I think his parents had something to do with it,” she said. “Otherwise, none of this makes sense.”

You folded your hands in your lap and pressed your thumbs together.

You’d had these thoughts looping over and over, hopeful and relentless, during those first months afterwards. Yeonjun had been convincing; he’d looked at you like he meant every word he said to you—which was why ending the bet hadn’t made sense. Something must’ve happened to change his mind.

But love wasn’t supposed to be something you changed your mind about.

“That’s even worse, then,” you said, “if it wasn’t just a bet for him, either. Because he still ended it without explaining anything. So it couldn’t have meant that much to him in the end.”

Reina lowered her gaze back to her empty mug.

“And then hearing him out now,” you went on, your voice tightening, “means I’ve got to dig up all of that. Admit that—admit that this is important. Maybe even forgive him. And then risk him just leaving again.”

A few stray raindrops tapped against the balcony, quiet against the glass, as though bashful to interrupt.

“That’s thinking three steps ahead, though,” Reina pointed out carefully, “isn’t it?”

You looked up at her. “Is it?”

“He spent the whole night following you around yesterday,” she said. “Seems genuinely desperate to be part of your life.”

“Seemed desperate for it last time, too.” Your eyes dropped back to your hands, a wry smile on your lips. “Still left.”

That was that, then.

Reina wanted to protect you from your own mind, but she couldn’t argue with you about this.

You leaned back against the stool, the metal edge digging into your lower spine. Your limbs felt strangely heavy, even though you hadn’t drunk all that much last night.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” you said. “Admitting that I wanted him outside the bet, that—that’s what ended up fucking me over. And I already said shit to him last night that I shouldn’t have. That’s it.”

Reina swallowed and tried to neutralise her expression. You were admitting things she’d expected to have to pry out of you inch by inch; she couldn’t get used to it.

“Okay,” she said again, still buffering. “I hear you. And I want to ask to elaborate, but I’m holding myself back. Please appreciate my efforts.”

One side of your lips stretched. “I appreciate your efforts.”

“Thank you.” She tapped her fingers against the marble. “So—uh, just to be technical about it for a second, yeah? You admitting that to yourself didn’t end things. That was good. It’s Yeonjun who ended things. And we still don’t know why. He knows, though. And wants to tell you, apparently.”

“Right.” You clenched your jaw. “But I don’t know if I want to know. Or if it even matters anymore.”

Reina lowered her head. She wanted to march downstairs and demand answers from him herself, maybe knock him out for good measure.

But this wasn’t her wound. Wasn’t her heartache.

“Babe,” she said after a moment.

You lifted your eyes.

“Do you really think it doesn’t matter?” she asked. “Or do you just wish it didn’t?”

You held her gaze for another second before turning towards the window instead. Violet was curled up like a little pretzel beside the flowerpots.

“I don’t know,” you said finally.

Reina shifted on the stool, tugging her left leg out from underneath her. It was completely numb.

“Shit,” she mumbled, shaking the feeling back into her foot. “Let me, uh—let me ask you something else, yeah?”

You turned back to her. “Mm. Love it when you come over just to interrogate me.”

She ignored that completely.

“Do you actually want him to just fuck off and leave you alone?”

You hooked your ankles against the bottom rung of the stool. You’d already anticipated the question and imagined your answer.

But, sitting here now, you could still feel his hands on you from last night, as though the traces of his touch were embedded under your skin.

“Probably not,” you said with a resigned exhale. “I mean, I kissed him.”

Reina coughed politely once, then less politely twice more.

“Right,” she breathed, pressing a fist to her chest. “O-okay, yes. I suspected that was what happened, so I don’t know why I—why I’m surprised. Um—”

“I’ll give you a minute,” you said, lips pressed tight. “More coffee?”

She tipped her head back and took a deep breath before looking at you again.

“I’m good,” she said, patting her chest. “We’re back.” She cleared her throat another time just in case. “Well, more or less.”

You snorted.

“This is smashing news to receive at nine in the morning, just so you know,” she said. “M’so glad I came over.”

“I can tell.”

“Mm.” She took another breath. “So, uh—okay. In light of this deeply important development, talking to him would make sense, no?”

You shook your head faintly. You’d followed your feelings before, ignored common sense, and this was where they’d led you.

“It would be better not to,” you said.

“For whom?”

You blinked. “For—well, for me.”

Reina ran her hand over the cold edge of the island and looked away from you for a second.

“Would it, though?” she asked.

You sighed again; a long, heavy sound. “I don’t know.”

That was the best you could manage, Reina was starting to notice. She recognised that she’d pushed far enough.

“Well, you don’t need to do anything right now,” she said. “You can think about it. Avoid it for a bit longer if you need to. Just, uh—you’re going to be seeing him anyway.”

You turned to Violet. “I know.”

“And it’s probably not going to get easier with time,” she added. “These things usually don’t.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to organise your thoughts into something coherent.

“See, um…” You turned the empty mug between your hands. Your rings clicked against the ceramic. “I’m probably prideful enough to think this could get easier with time. Eventually, there might be no reason for us to talk anymore. Maybe Violet will stop coming here, I don’t know.”

Across the room, Violet lay so still that she resembled a plush toy. Reina watched her and did not share your optimism.

“Sure,” she said. “If that point ever comes.”

You looked back at her. “Why wouldn’t it?”

“Nara’s birthday is on Friday.”

You clicked your tongue. “Okay. Fuck. But maybe he won’t—”

“And Yeonjun’s is right after that.”

Your shoulders lowered again. “Well, I can skip that one.”

Reina tilted her head towards the sleeping cat. “Can Violet?”

You glanced back towards the window.

“Look.” Reina flattened both palms against the countertop, drawing your attention back to her. “This can very easily turn into a lifelong process of finding excuses to avoid him. And you might find enough of them—in fact, I don’t doubt you will.”

You opened your mouth to reply.

“But,” she continued before you could interrupt, “that means your brain stays switched on all the time. All the time, yeah? Constant fucking rerouting, planning ahead, avoiding places. It’s exhausting, babe. You can’t live like that.”

You tapped your finger absently against the edge of the island. The kitchen still smelled of coffee and chocolate.

“I get that,” you said. “It’s just a lot.”

“Well, of course it’s a lot,” she said. “You’ve been carrying all of it for over a year.”

You hummed.

“S’the band-aid thing, the way I see it,” she said. “You either rip it off in one go, and it hurts like hell for two seconds, and then it’s done. Or you peel it off slowly, tiny rip by tiny rip. And it stings the entire time, and your skin’s all raw by the end of it.”

A weak smile appeared on your lips. “Vivid imagery, Rei.”

“I know, yeah.” She smiled, then forced her lips back into a straight line. “S’what you’re doing, though. You peel the band-aid back a little, panic because it hurts, then try sticking it back on. But it’s never going to stick properly, is it? Corners all curled up. Hair’s getting caught underneath.” She shuddered. “S’a nightmare.”

The humour slowly faded from your face.

You dragged your fingers down your calf until your hand wrapped around your ankle, for no reason other than to give your nervous energy somewhere to settle.

“Well,” you said, looking back towards the balcony doors, “I could always just buy a new band-aid and slap that over the old one.”

“Over the—” Reina narrowed her eyes. “Oh, look at you, Miss Think-Outside-The-Box.”

You ducked your head with a soft chuckle.

“No, I mean, that’s true,” Reina said. “You could get a new band-aid. S’going to be fun, I imagine—and sustainable—having to find a new band-aid every time Yeonjun comes to collect the cat you’re co-parenting.”

You winced before you could stop yourself.

Reina noticed it immediately and leaned back from the island, already preparing to apologise.

“We’re not co-parenting,” you said before she could. “Violet just visits.”

She sighed. “Right.”

“I get it, though,” you added. “You’re right.”

Reina leaned slightly forward as if she’d misheard you.

“I—I’ll try to talk to him, I guess,” you continued, staring at your ankle. “Hear what happened. Rip off the band-aid. Whatever.”

Reina gave a slow nod. She climbed off the stool and, limping slightly on her numb leg, crossed the kitchen to you.

“Good,” she said, draping an arm over your shoulders. “And then we’ll get a new band-aid if we still need one, yeah? Not leaving you bleeding out.”

The thumping in your chest quieted.

“Yeah,” you said, resting your hand over hers. Her shirt was soft against your arm. “Thank you.”

“I’m with you, babe. Always. Will rip out his eyes, just tell me when.”

Laughing softly, you turned properly to wrap both arms around her. Reina leaned into you, exhaling.

“I don’t like seeing you suffer,” she whispered, her fingers brushing over the ends of your hair.

“I know.” Your throat tightened. “I love you, Rei.”

She squeezed you back. “I love you.”

✦ • ─── AUGUST 30, 2026. 10:30 AM

Eventually, you and Reina relocated to the sofa, where the conversation drifted back to her engagement party—focusing, this time, on the next plans.

“Sage,” she announced, “is still the leading colour for the bridesmaid dresses in my mind.”

“Wasn’t it emerald last week?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah.” She snorted. “But, see, I had a dream about this frog the other night—kind of like the one in Shrek, Fiona’s dad? No idea why my subconscious produced that, but anyway. Everyone wore this garish shade of green in the dream. In his honour, I assume, so—”

“The frog’s?”

“Yes.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “So, since then, emerald reminds me of frogs. So sage it is.”

You chuckled, leaning in closer to look at the Pinterest board on her phone screen.

It still startled you, sometimes, to hear her talk about marriage. She’d just turned nineteen when you met her, a year younger than you.

Now, listening to her describe, one more time, the way Soobin’s hands had shaken as he held the ring box, it felt as though you’d lived an entire lifetime alongside them. As though you’d watched them grow up and had grown up with them.

You couldn’t wait for all that would happen next.

When Reina left your flat a few hours later, she felt much lighter.

That was why, after the two of you hugged goodbye and confirmed your Friday lunch plans, she stopped one floor below. She stood on the landing for several seconds, one hand gripping the railing, and watched the weak midday light filter through the narrow stairwell windows.

This, she knew, was probably overstepping.

Maybe even catastrophically so.

Then she thought about the years the three of you—Soobin, you, and herself—had spent together. Thought about Yeonjun, too, lingering on the periphery of those memories, whether you and Reina wanted him there or not.

She turned and knocked on his door.

Then knocked again.

And again.

By the fourth knock, she was beginning to suspect he’d died, and she was bruising her knuckles for nothing.

Finally, the lock clicked. The door opened halfway.

Yeonjun had very clearly not expected to see her here.

“Oh,” he said first.

Then, “um.”

And finally: “Hi.”

“Hi,” Reina replied. “She doesn’t know I’m here.”

That seemed to answer the question he was about to have. But he still looked mildly startled, and a bit like he’d crawled from his bed and immediately regretted surviving the night. His hair stuck out in several directions, skin looked nearly translucent. Reina could practically see his headache.

“Okay,” he managed after a second. “Why, um—w-why are you here?”

“Um.” She glanced towards the stairwell as if you might suddenly appear and catch her here. “A question before I answer your question, okay?”

Yeonjun frowned faintly. “Sure.”

“Do you love her?”

The headache seemed to drop straight from his skull into his chest.

His grip tightened around the door handle.

“Yes,” he said.

Reina was glad he hadn’t hesitated.

“Okay,” she said. “Great. So, that’s why I’m here.” She inhaled sharply, and the rest of her words tumbled out in one furious burst: “I don’t know what the fuck your damage is, but you need to sort your shit out and explain the fucktrain of bullshit you pulled in grad school.”

Yeonjun closed his eyes briefly. This, he recognised, had to be where Soobin’s colourful vocabulary had come from.

He remembered, abruptly, taking the lift home last night. Remembered finding his jacket draped over the stairwell railing outside his door. No trace of you, other than a faint whiff of your perfume on the lapels.

“Sh-she won’t listen to me,” he said quietly. His eyes were so bloodshot that Reina wondered whether he’d slept at all or just lay there decomposing. “I’ve already tried.”

She took a moment to regain her breath.

“I talked to her,” she said then.

The corridor fell quiet. It smelled, she noted, oddly of burnt toast.

“You talked to her?” he repeated. “About talking to me?”

“Yes,” she said, gripping the edge of her raincoat sleeve. “But not for you. I did it for her. She deserves to know what the fuck happened to you back then. Honestly, I deserve to know, too, seeing as you two have dragged me into this mess against my will—but anyway. You need to explain, and you need to do it properly. In a way that makes sense.”

“It—yeah.” He dragged a hand through his already dishevelled hair. “I know. Yeah.”

He still looked dreadful and grey. But now he seemed to have a purpose again.

“And I swear to God,” Reina added, tipping her head back, “if you come up with another fucking bet, or lie to her about—”

“I won’t,” he interrupted. “I’m done with bets. And I never lied to her.”

She stared at him for a long moment.

“Not going to fact-check that,” she decided, “but that better not be a lie, either.”

“It’s not.”

“Good.”

She glanced toward the stairs again, debating, for a second, whether he’d earned the next part.

Finally, she sighed.

“Look… don’t expect anything once you’ve explained yourself,” she said. “For your own sake.”

Yeonjun tried to nod, but quickly decided he’d be better off not moving his head at all today.

“Trust me, I don’t expect anything,” he said. “Just want her to know what I was—what really happened. What she does with that isn’t up to me. She doesn’t owe me anything.”

For the first time since she came here, Reina allowed her shoulders to drop.

“That’s right,” she said. “She doesn’t. So don’t push her into anything she’s not ready for, yeah? Or I’ll be back here knocking on something other than your door.”

Yeonjun lowered his eyes, though the warning still stung enough for him to mutter, “I’d never push her.”

“No, that—” Reina clicked her tongue. “See, you say that, but you seem to push her just by standing too close. Remember that when you talk to her. Because you might think she wouldn’t give a fuck if you got struck by lightning tomorrow, but she’d start a fight with the fucking rain clouds for you. Alright? Remember that. Or I’ll really knock your fucking teeth in.”

A wave of dizziness rolled through him so suddenly that he had to lean harder against the doorframe to stay upright. His heart thudded heavily in his chest.

You’d told him you cared last night.

He squeezed his eyes shut. His ears were still ringing.

“Still with me?” Reina asked, leaning forward to check for signs of life.

Yeonjun opened his eyes again.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Yeah, I—I’ll remember.”

“And if there’s still shit you haven’t figured out yet,” she added, “figure it out first. Don’t take another year to do it, because—why did you need a year?”

“I—”

“No.” She held up both hands. “Never mind. Not my place. Just—just be ready. She’s already got questions. Don’t leave her with more.”

His pulse seemed to thrum through every inch of his skin.

A part of him wanted to run upstairs immediately. Talk to you right now, while adrenaline was still drowning out everything else.

He suspected all he’d manage was please.

“I won’t,” he said, forcing himself to take a breath. “I mean, I’ll try not to.”

Reina nodded. She trusted that more than she would’ve trusted his confidence.

“That’s fair,” she said. “So, we’re clear?”

He gave a small nod. “We’re clear.”

“Okay.”

She stayed on his doorstep another moment, studying him. His shirt was wrinkled. There was a faint crease along his cheek, probably from sleeping on that side of his face. He looked like, if he let go of the doorframe, he’d drop right onto the floor.

For one second, she almost felt sorry for him.

Then she remembered everything you’d said upstairs and crossed her arms.

“And in case you somehow still haven’t got it,” she said, “I’ll emphasise that again: I don’t care how much you drink or how fucked up you feel, yeah? I will literally fold you in fucking half, light your ass on fire, and launch you directly into the next galaxy if you hurt her. Are we clear on that, too?”

A shadow crossed his face.

He doubted Reina could make him feel worse than he already did, but the threat was fair.

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s, uh—that part was already very clear.”

“Good.” Finally, she took a step back from the doorway. “Your cat’s at her place, by the way. What the fuck’s that about?”

“Oh—” He laughed, startling himself. “Yeah. That’s Violet. She sort of does whatever she wants. And apparently, what she wants is to be around her.”

Reina smirked despite herself.

“Interesting,” she said. “Seems she inherited that from you.”

Yeonjun felt a flush at the back of his neck despite the chill in the corridor.

“Yeah,” he said, finally pushing himself away from the doorframe. “Seems so.”

“Yeah,” she echoed, amused by the way he avoided her gaze. “Well. Don’t forget what I said.”

“I won’t,” he said. “And, f-for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have given up. I’d have kept trying to talk to her, however long it took.” His fingers curled around the handle again. “It’s not—I’m not doing this because you told me to.”

Reina watched him quietly for another second.

“I know,” she said finally.

Yeonjun realised, with some surprise, that this was probably the closest thing to approval he’d ever received from her.

“And, um…” Reina’s mouth twisted. “I’m also thinking she probably doesn’t need to know I was here.”

“Scared?”

“A bit, yeah.”

He smiled softly. “I won’t tell her.”

“Good.”

Reina stayed on the landing, feeling awkward now that she wasn’t threatening him.

“Just so you know,” she said. “I’m not rooting for you. You’ve got a lot of shit to fix before we can talk about that. But I also don’t want to repeat grad school. So I had to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I don’t want that either. S’why I’ve been trying to talk to her.”

“Right. So try that again.” She paused, frowning. “Actually, maybe don’t. Let her come to you. She said she’d try to.”

His eyes lit up so quickly that it embarrassed them both. Reina looked away.

“She did?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He glanced down to process that. The linoleum outside his flat was terribly scratched. Part of the damage, he knew, had come from his own boxes when he’d moved in.

“That—well, knowing her,” he said, exhaling shakily, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she’ll talk to me soon.”

“True,” Reina admitted. “Nothing you can do about that now, though. You got yourself into this mess. Let her find you when she’s ready.”

Yeonjun didn’t argue. This was already more than he’d allowed himself to hope for after last night.

“Yeah,” he said. “Okay. I already know what I need to say to her anyway.”

Something in Reina’s expression softened very slightly.

“That’s good,” she said.

He ran a hand through his hair again. “Also, uh—m’sorry about drinking half the open bar last night.”

Reina’s lips twitched.

“Yeah. S’fine.” She nodded towards his face. “But take some aspirin. Your temples are turning blue.”

“Ah.” His hand lifted automatically to the side of his face. He could only feel the heat now, and none of the pain. “I will. Thanks.”

With a final nod, Reina turned and climbed down the stairs.

✦ • ─── AUGUST 30, 2026. 4 PM

When Yeonjun came to pick up Violet that afternoon, he wore a black jumper with the hood pulled up and did not look at you. The two of you communicated entirely through mime.

You opened the door.

He gave a nod.

You nodded back and stepped aside.

He bent, one hand braced against his knee, and whistled softly for Violet.

Violet walked over, tentative, her tail held high.

Yeonjun scooped her against his chest and stood. He gave you another nod.

You closed the door before either of you could accidentally say an actual word.

✦ • ─── AUGUST 31, 2026. 4 PM

When you returned from university the following Monday, Yeonjun wasn’t in the lobby.

You’d suspected he might stop waiting there eventually, and you were glad you didn’t need to search for what to say, yet his absence still felt odd in the empty space. The air was dry and still. Someone had left muddy footprints near the entrance; they’d already begun to dry.

You checked your letterbox and pulled out another advertisement for window frames—it had to be a joke, considering that ninety per cent of the windows in this building didn’t open. You crumpled it into your palm.

Your gaze drifted to the peeling adverts across the opposite wall. Alfred, the dachshund, had probably been found; the flyer was gone.

It was quiet here.

You could hear a faint ticking sound, as though that of a clock.

You turned up the stairs.

Inside your flat, you kicked off your shoes, grabbed a banana from the kitchen counter, and changed into your jumper and sweatpants. Violet was still here.

Before you could text him, Yeonjun rang the doorbell. This time, his jumper was blue.

The two of you performed the routine again: one nod, step aside, cat, another nod, door shut.

It felt worse today.

✦ • ─── SEPTEMBER 1, 2026. 4 PM

On Tuesday, Yeonjun wasn’t in the lobby.

And then he forgot the second nod before he left with Violet.

✦ • ─── SEPTEMBER 2, 2026. 4 PM

On Wednesday, Yeonjun wasn’t in the lobby.

At your flat later, he nodded an additional two times.

✦ • ─── SEPTEMBER 3, 2026. 4 PM

On Thursday, Yeonjun wasn’t in the lobby.

But he looked at you, this time, as he picked Violet up. Then nodded and left.

✦ • ─── SEPTEMBER 4, 2026. 4 PM

By Friday, you’d stopped expecting him in the lobby.

Exhaling heavily, you hitched the grocery bags higher against your wrists and started upstairs. The paper handles bit into your skin with every step. The carton of eggs kept thumping against your knee as if the eggs were suicidal.

You were exhausted.

University had wrung you dry this week; you’d forgotten how stressful that first month of the term could be. Professor Lee already needed your help reading through sixty essays from his undergrads. Even your lunch with Reina—during which she kept shooting you expectant looks—didn’t relax you as much as it used to.

Still, you hoped to recover in the next four hours before Nara’s birthday dinner. Hoped to squeeze in a nap as well.

Violet was stretched out in the middle of the living room when you unlocked the flat. She stood the moment she heard the grocery bags rustle and hurried toward you. You bent down to scratch under her chin. She enjoyed that tremendously, though not as much as she enjoyed the paper bags afterwards.

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Violet was still sitting inside one of the bags, her tail waving through the opening.

Expecting another silent exchange, you opened the door. Yeonjun stood there, holding a plate of biscuits. He smelled of sugar and vanilla.

“Hi,” he said. Hearing his voice after nearly a week hit you straight through the ribs. He lifted the plate. “For you.”

For a second, your mind was empty.

“Oh,” you tried. “Th—thank you.”

You accepted the plate without registering your hands moving. The ceramic felt cool against your palms.

He’d been baking again, then.

You set the biscuits down on the kitchen island. Behind you, Yeonjun’s eyes followed you automatically.

The sunflowers, he noticed, were gone.

Violet untangled herself from the paper bag and scampered towards him, circling his ankles with an affectionate meow.

“Oh.” He crouched to scratch her ears. “Now you act as if you’ve missed me. Can you tell I’ve been baking, love? Hmm?”

You glanced down at the cat. “You smell like it.”

He looked up. “Hm?”

You leaned one hip against the island. “Like sugar.”

“Oh.”

Something in his eyes softened helplessly. He scooped Violet into his arms and straightened, his gaze dropping to the floor.

It struck you, suddenly, that if he nodded politely and left again, you might actually lose your mind.

“You, uh—” Your eyes flicked back to the plate. He’d used the same one he’d brought the peach cobbler on before. “You baked biscuits, then.”

Yeonjun couldn’t help a smile.

“Yes,” he said. “Thank you for noticing.”

“Mhmm.”

“They’re cherry.”

You turned back to him.

You remembered, of course, the neon pink, cherry-flavoured biscuits. The rain drumming against the roof of his car. The precision of his pen against your wrist.

You cleared your throat and looked away again.

“Have you got a minute?” you asked.

Yeonjun inhaled sharply.

“Yeah,” he said. Then, quieter: “Always.”

“Okay, um…” Your gaze drifted towards the balcony doors. “Can we talk? Or do you think we’ll end up late for Nara’s?”

He’d been waiting for this, but now that you were actually asking, he felt a reflexive urge to bolt.

What if he said something wrong and it became the last thing you ever said to each other, and he’d have no one to blame but himself, and—

He took another long breath.

“Yeah,” he said. “We—no, we can talk.”

You nodded.

“Do you want to go out on the balcony?” You gestured towards the living room. “Warm day today.”

“Sure.”

You carried the biscuits onto the balcony and set them down on the round metal table between two white chairs. They’d come with the flat, their legs slightly rusted and paint peeling in thin curls along the sides. You’d loved them immediately.

The balcony barely fit the furniture, let alone both of you, but it was cosy in the golden late-afternoon light. The metal table scorched your fingertips briefly when you touched it, still radiating the heat of the day.

Yeonjun lowered Violet by the balcony doors. She stepped outside cautiously, her whiskers twitching. The moment she felt the breeze, she scrambled towards the ledge to sniff at the wind.

Yeonjun took the chair on the left.

You sat on the right.

And then, neither of you spoke for a very long time.

Cars rolled steadily below. A pigeon landed on a nearby rooftop with a heavy thump of wings; Violet tracked it with wide, curious eyes. You realised you didn’t feel all that tired anymore.

“Well,” Yeonjun said eventually, leaning back in his chair, “reckon that’s a solid prequel.”

You snorted despite yourself. His shoulders relaxed at the sound.

He nodded toward the biscuits. You leaned forward to take one, and he did, too.

“Can’t remember us ever being quiet around each other for this long,” he added, taking a quick bite.

The biscuit was still warm in the middle when you tried it, buttery and soft enough to crumble against your fingers. It wasn’t as dangerously sweet as the ones from grad school.

“Yeah,” you said. “Would’ve spared us from your wardrobe room.”

His chair creaked as he shifted back. You wiped your palms against each other.

“Think I would’ve found another way to get to you, though,” he said. “Even without the Seven Minutes.”

He used to say things like that constantly back then, you remembered; careless little comments meant to fluster you into silence. Your instinct was still to drop your gaze and clench your hands.

“Right,” you said. “To get back at your parents, yeah?”

The warmth drained from his face.

“No,” he said. “Not for my parents. For me. Because I wanted to be with you.”

Your shoulders stayed taut against the back of the chair.

Across the street, a window slammed shut. Violet’s ears flicked toward the noise. Yeonjun looked that way, too, briefly distracted by the movement on the street below.

It occurred to him, as he watched the traffic, how easily you could just stand up and leave. Close the balcony door, end the conversation. End everything.

Immediately, he started to think of all the ways to stop that from happening, before he caught himself.

If you wanted to leave, you should be able to.

“C-can I start from the beginning?” he asked. “I don’t want to—I want you to know everything.”

You took a slow breath. “Yeah. Start wherever you like.”

Yeonjun had rehearsed this conversation hundreds of times in the past week: lying awake at four in the morning, standing outside your door with Violet, driving to work, in the queue at the shops, choosing between two brands of chocolate bars.

None of those rehearsals had included the look on your face, he realised now. He didn’t know what to expect.

“So,” he said, “the beginning is that I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze dropped immediately to the plate on the table.

His heartbeat was so violent that he wondered if you could hear it over the traffic below. You wondered if he could hear yours.

“You, um…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You probably already know that. I told you before. Once.”

“Yeah.” You let out a long breath. “And I almost believed you. Once.”

His jaw tensed.

Violet, sensing the shift in the air, took a turn around your chair and settled in the shade underneath it.

“I meant it,” he said. “And I mean it now. I’m in love with you. Probably have been since the day I sat next to you outside class in our first year, and you were mean to me.”

You turned to look at him. “You earned that. Acted like a knobhead.”

“I know.” His jaw relaxed enough to let him smile. “But I was done for immediately. And then you kept making it worse for me—unintentionally, I’m assuming. You always get this look in your eyes when you realise you’re talking to a complete idiot, and I—”

You frowned. “I don’t get a look.”

“There!” He jumped, pointing at you with ridiculous delight. “That’s the look.”

You turned away the moment your lips twitched. He laughed, settling back in the chair. The metal at the back poked his spine.

“S’lovely,” he said. “Makes me want to keep annoying you just to see it again.”

“You have problems,” you informed him, not cruelly.

“Yeah,” he replied easily. “Quite severe ones, too. We both know that.”

“Hmm.”

You took another biscuit from the plate.

Across from you, Yeonjun watched your legs swing beneath the metal chair: back and forth, back and forth. You still looked nervous, but you were staying.

“I, uh…” He rubbed his thumb along the edge of the table. “I’ve already told you about the first time I wanted to kiss you.”

You let the biscuit melt on your tongue.

You remembered exactly the way he’d told you: standing by the window in your old bedroom, saying he’d spotted you on the balcony of his dorm room once, years ago, with a cigarette. He’d hidden behind the wardrobe door so you wouldn’t catch him watching.

It had been cute, if it was true.

“I remember,” you said, brushing crumbs off your sweatpants. They dropped to the floor.

Violet twitched under your chair, offended at the disturbance, and cracked one eye open. The crumbs smelled excellent, admittedly, but she had standards. She wasn’t eating crumbs. And off the floor, no less.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately,” Yeonjun said, “and I identified another moment that was particularly bad for me.”

You looked up. “Yeah? How bad?”

“Very.” The corners of his lips curled. “Thought I was properly fucked if you never liked me back.”

You turned back ahead, lips pursed.

“Oh—” He clapped his hands. “There’s that look again.”

You shook your head, fighting back a sudden laugh. “What’s the moment, then?”

He smoothed his palms over his black trousers. He’d got flour on them earlier, but you wouldn’t be able to tell now.

“D’you remember our final year of undergrad?” he asked. “November, maybe late October. When we usually started racing.”

You didn’t know what you were supposed to remember.

“Sure,” you said anyway, reaching for another biscuit. You pushed the plate with the last one towards him.

“Right.” He leaned forward to take it, turning it between his fingers. “Soobin and Reina had just started dating, and he refused—I say that with love—to shut the fuck up about her. Thought I was going to go insane.”

You smiled.

Even before they started dating, Reina and Soobin already talked about each other as if they were being paid per mention. Once they actually got together, it increased exponentially. You remembered complaining about the broken radiators in your flat once, and Reina sighing dreamily, Soobin and I were just talking about that yesterday.

It had been endearing. And a little nauseating.

“So then,” Yeonjun continued, pausing to chew, “one day, Soobin tells me he’s going to be late for the first race because he’s got plans with Reina. And I was—now, we know I’ve got problems.”

You snorted into your biscuit.

“At that point, I was making real progress, though,” he said. “Massive character development, yeah?” He gestured with the biscuit. “Huge. So instead of accusing him of abandoning me forever because he’d got a girlfriend, I kept quiet. But I still wanted him there. He’s my good luck charm.”

You swallowed, the cherry jam warm against your throat.

Yeonjun had told you how he’d spiralled when Alain got a girlfriend and started spending less time with him.

It happened to him again, then, with Soobin. And there’d been no one who was proud of him for handling it better.

You realised, absurdly, that you were.

“So,” he said, the white of his shirt reflecting the sunlight, “the day before the race, I told him, hey, Soobin. Why don’t you bring Reina? That way we can all hang out.”

Your gaze drifted sideways as you searched through old memories.

“So, uh—naturally,” he went on, swallowing the last of the biscuit, “after Soobin invited her, Reina got nervous. Thought hanging around his mates would be awkward. He said it wouldn’t be. She disagreed, apparently, and brought you along just in case.”

He could imagine how much convincing that must’ve taken, despite not knowing that part of the story. All Soobin had told him at the time was that Reina would bring her best friend. And Yeonjun, knowing exactly who said best friend was, proceeded to put his jeans on backwards.

“Hmm.” You leaned back in your chair, hands dropping loosely to your sides. Violet’s tail brushed against your fingers. “What’s special about this race, then?”

“I’m getting to it,” he said. “I remember the exact moment you arrived.”

You glanced at him.

“You wore dark jeans and this white top with glitter writing across the chest,” he said. “Don’t know what it said. Stared at you for ten minutes, and my brain stopped cooperating.”

You ran your tongue over your lips, an ironic smile spreading across your face. “You once accused me of seeing you in the shapes of the clouds. Bit ironic now, yeah?”

He snorted. “Yeah, I’m great at deflection. You didn’t know?”

“Hmm. Go on, then.”

“Right. I remember you had sunglasses on, too,” he went on, “even though it was dark. Bit performative if you ask me, but—”

“Okay—” you paused to let him finish laughing, the memory vague in your mind, “—it was light when we left the flat.”

“Fair,” he accepted, tipping his head back. “It was a good night anyway. The wind kept blowing your hair into your mouth. You kept spitting it out. And you were carrying your leather jacket in your hands. I thought you looked like an actress from a 00s film.”

“Please.”

“No, really.” His grin widened. “It pissed me off how hot you looked.”

That finally made you laugh again.

The sound satisfied him unreasonably.

“I remember you saw me,” he said, “and just stopped dead. Reina turned to look at you. You said something to her—probably that you were leaving because I was there.”

“Probably.”

He snickered. “Yeah. And then you were actually about to leave, but Beomgyu found you. He did that a lot back then. Always seemed to seek you out.”

Now you remembered.

Beomgyu had asked you, earlier that day, if you were coming to the race. You’d said no. So when he spotted you there anyway, he’d marched straight across the old camping grounds, grabbed your wrist and refused to let you escape.

“He wanted to know if I’d brought drinks,” you recalled.

Yeonjun didn’t like the fond smile on your face. “Why?”

“A few days before, he overheard Reina and me in class, talking about her grandmother’s homemade spirits,” you said. “And I mentioned that my gran used to make them too, when she was young. Cranberry liqueurs, Kahlúa knockoffs. You know. Stuff where, if you threw it on a wall, paint would probably come off.”

Yeonjun laughed under his breath.

“Beomgyu got obsessed,” you said. “Spent days begging us to bring him some.”

“Did you bring him any?”

“No,” you said. “Our grans were generous with alcohol, and Beomgyu already drank enough as it was. We weren’t helping him become a full-time alcoholic. Think he’s held a bit of a grudge since then.”

Yeonjun laughed again, louder this time.

It was the drinks, then, that Beomgyu had wanted from you.

Good.

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” he said, his foot bouncing lightly under the table. “I remember him moaning at you the entire night.”

“Yeah, well.” You shrugged. “He’s very good at making people feel guilty.”

“Yeah.” He shifted his ankles, trying to ease the pressure against his spine. “Anyway—so, later that night, I was getting into my car for the first heat, and I looked over, and Beomgyu was wasted. Just gone. Walking circles around the pergola, one shoe on, another in the grass under the drinks table.”

You snickered, raising your hand to cover your mouth. Yeonjun wished you wouldn’t; he wanted to see your smile.

“A-and then,” he said, “I saw him trying to shove you into his Audi, saying he’d be your navigator. Just drive. He couldn’t miss the race.”

You looked up at the roof of the building across the street, an amused smile on your lips.

Beomgyu’s Audi, you remembered, had been in a tragic state when you’d climbed in: wrappers and empty energy drink cans rolled under your feet, the seats smelled of strawberry yoghurt. Your fingers clung to the steering wheel with something sickeningly sticky.

“I remember,” you said. “He was too drunk to drive. Kept saying I had to do it in his honour because I’d betrayed him over the drinks.”

“Hmm.” Yeonjun watched you across the table, one elbow propped against the metal edge. “He actually made you start the race.”

You nodded. Before the sirens had signalled the start, Beomgyu had already been halfway out the passenger window. He’d promised to give you directions. Instead, the moment the engine coughed to life, all you got was, oh God, I’m going to throw up, please pull over—wait, no, don’t pull over, I’ll lose my place, oh God. Then he’d passed out.

“Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t get far.”

“Mhmm.” Yeonjun bent one leg under his chair. “But you did finish the first lap.”

“Okay,” you said, “and then I spent the rest of the night holding Beomgyu upright while he threw up in the grass.”

He snickered softly. He remembered crossing the straight and catching sight of Beomgyu folded over the guardrail, while you stood behind him rubbing circles over his back.

“Alright, yeah,” he said. “But, uh—did you check your lap time?”

You frowned. “Did they even record it? I wasn’t supposed to race.”

“They logged it under Beomgyu’s name.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” He sat up straighter, a small smile on his lips. “You beat me.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “No.”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

He laughed. “Yeah. First time driving Beomgyu’s wreck of an Audi, with his drunk ass passed out beside you, and you still beat me on your first go.”

The delight on your face was beautiful. He’d known it would be.

“I thought it didn’t count,” you said, nearly out of breath.

“Of course it didn’t. I spent the next ten minutes shouting that it shouldn’t. It was very important to me.”

You laughed again, your head tilting back. Violet looked up from beneath your chair to inspect the noise. Once she was sure that no one was dying, she curled back into herself.

Yeonjun watched the crinkles forming around your eyes and thought he’d have gladly watched you beat him a hundred times over just to get to this point.

“Wow,” you breathed at last.

“Yeah,” he said, still grinning. “Humiliated the absolute shit out of me. Never fucking wanted you more.”

You shook your head.

“You really are insane,” you said, but there was a softness in your voice now. An old instinct.

He forgot to swallow for a moment and inhaled too sharply, coughing into his fist.

“Sorry,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “Yeah, uh—well, it only got worse from there, as you know very well.”

“It makes no sense, though,” you said, brushing the crumbs on the table into a tiny pile with your fingertip. “Because I remember all the times we argued. All your provocations. All of it.”

“Yeah.” He nodded along to every word. “I was in denial for a long time. But, fuck, let’s be honest, the more I pissed you off, the more I reinforced my problem. You were so mean to me. I was thriving.”

“That’s such—” A helpless laugh cut you off. Yeonjun lit up instantly. “I think we should be finding you help instead of sitting on my balcony.”

He snorted, shaking his head hard enough for his hair to fall into his eyes.

“S’fine,” he said. “I’ve accepted this is an incurable condition.”

“Ah, so just gave up, then. Typical.”

He gasped, clutching dramatically at his chest.

“Nooo,” he whined. “Don’t say that. You’re making this worse for me.”

You laughed so easily that he had to grip the back of the chair to physically stop himself from leaning across the table. Heliotropic, like a fucking sunflower.

Violet finally emerged from under your chair and stretched across the warm tiles, flexing her claws. Then she looked up at you. You looked back, still smiling.

Taking that as permission, she hopped into your lap, startling you slightly with her weight, and lifted her head in expectation, her pupils widening.

Obediently, you smoothed a hand down her spine.

“So, it was clearly bad for me,” Yeonjun said. He couldn’t look away from Violet sprawled contentedly across your thighs. “And that was why I talked our professors into letting me host that workshop with you later.”

“Hmm.”

“And…” His voice faltered. “After that, I suggested the bet.”

The warmth of the afternoon slowly drained away. You felt the cold at the nape of your neck every time the breeze lifted your hair.

“Right,” you said.

Yeonjun lowered his gaze to his hands. His thumbs moved restlessly against each other in his lap. He could feel the biscuits sitting in his stomach.

“All through this,” he said slowly, “from the moment we first talked, I kept looking for ways to get closer to you. That was all I did.” He swallowed. “I—I know I’ve got issues, yeah? Plenty. But wanting you is genuine. It’s got nothing to do with—with fucking schemes. None of that. It’s just you.”

Your eyes dropped to the dark tiles under your slippers and stayed there. Violet, offended you’d stopped stroking her, hopped off your lap and wandered back into your living room.

This time, Yeonjun was grateful you weren’t looking at him.

“On the last night of the bet,” he said, “after I sprained my wrist, my mum called me.”

The wind slid down your spine. You looked up, and the tension in his face made your stomach clench before he said anything.

“She gave me two options,” he said. The breeze caught the hem of his shirt and lifted it slightly. “Option one was that I break up with you.”

Your pulse stumbled hard enough to make you momentarily dizzy.

“Option two…” His jaw locked. “Option two was that I don’t break up with you. But the Board doesn’t let you graduate. Your thesis fails review for contract cheating.”

For a second, you forgot how to breathe.

It was surreal, at first, that accusing you of paying someone to write your thesis was a realistic option to begin with. Then you remembered the stark white walls of his parents’ house, and the heavy silence within. Remembered Yeonjun telling you his mother had once delayed his flight because he’d tried to run off on a holiday with friends.

Falsifying academic misconduct probably wouldn’t have troubled her much.

“That’s why I ended the bet,” Yeonjun said. “I didn’t want to lose you. But I couldn't let them do that to you.”

You looked up again. The sun was beginning to cast long shadows through the railings, painting stripes across the tiled balcony. Golden light brushed the edge of the plate and turned the white of Yeonjun’s shirt the colour of honey.

You felt almost nauseous.

He’d ended the bet, then, because he thought that wanting him would ruin your life.

“Why—why are you only telling me about this now?” you asked finally. “S’been over a year since we graduated.”

A flash of pain crossed his face. “I was afraid of what else my mum might do.”

“What else could she have done? My thesis had already passed review.”

He dropped his gaze and didn’t answer. The noise of the city filled the silence instead: the hum of the cars on the street, the distant wail of a siren several blocks away.

Your thoughts raced as you watched him.

You remembered the fellowship offer at New York University, the absurd timing of it—right after Yeonjun ended the bet. Right after his mother threatened your future if he didn’t leave you.

“Your mum—” Your stomach lurched. “Sh-she was behind my fellowship. Wasn’t she?”

Yeonjun squeezed his eyes shut. “I think so.”

“Fuck.”

“I don’t know what she did, exactly.” He opened his eyes again and fixed his gaze somewhere past your shoulder. “Could’ve just put in a good word. Made sure your name stayed in front of them. I don’t know.”

Your hands clenched into fists.

“The email I got,” you said, swallowing thickly, “said it was a nomination.”

He lowered his head. “Yeah. It was—it was still you, though. If you hadn’t done the work, she couldn’t have nominated you.”

“Mhmm. And if she hadn’t nominated me,” you returned, dryly, “I wouldn’t have got it.”

He didn’t try to argue. Instead, he let you sit with this for a minute.

“I-I think she wanted to make sure,” he said then, quieter. “Breaking up with you wasn’t enough. She needed you far away from me.”

You shook your head—in disbelief, Yeonjun thought, not realising that it was in disagreement.

It wouldn’t have worked.

If you’d known, it wouldn’t have worked.

He had thought there was no other way. Thought that staying together meant giving up everything else.

You didn’t think so.

You thought that staying together meant staying together. Thought it meant searching for some impossible solution, because that would still be easier than letting go.

“You…” You swallowed against the lump in your throat. There were twenty different things your mind was screaming at you. You tried to focus on the loudest one. “You didn’t explain anything. Just left. Did you really think I’d just fly to New York, be angry for a bit, and then move on?”

His whole posture folded inward.

He didn’t answer.

“You made me think that I wasn’t—made me think I had to be someone else,” you said. Your hands shook in your lap. “Someone worth staying for.”

He took a tentative breath.

“Fuck, I—I realise that now,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know how else to protect you from the fucking mess that is my famil—”

“You could’ve told me right away.” Your voice sharpened before you could stop it. “I didn’t know your mum called you. Didn’t know New York was them.”

“It—I didn’t know for sure it was them,” he said. He felt too large, suddenly, for your small balcony, too heavy for the flimsy chair. “You were a brilliant student; the fellowship made sense. But, um… after a while, I thought—thought the timing felt too convenient.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t go,” he said. “If you knew my parents had anything to do with it. Thought you’d refuse on principle. And New York was an incredible opportunity for you. It would’ve been—”

“And you don’t think I would’ve got other opportunities?” you cut in. “Think I couldn’t have done anything without your parents handing it to me?”

He winced. “No. Fuck no. That’s not what I mean. I know you could’ve. But this was already happening. This was your future. I thought if I—”

“Why do you think that was my only future?”

He finally looked up.

Your eyes locked across the small table, and something electric crackled through the warm air.

“I wanted you in my future,” you said. Yeonjun felt every sharp thing inside his chest twist at once. “I could’ve still gone to New York. You could’ve come with me. We could’ve—fuck, I would’ve defended my thesis, and they would’ve seen in the viva that I hadn’t cheated. It—”

You stopped to steady your breathing.

“There were things we could’ve done,” you said, without looking at him. “But your mum gave you two options, and you never even considered refusing both.”

His breath hitched in his throat.

Just a few days ago, Reina had warned him to remember: she’d fight with the fucking rain clouds for you. He thought he could see it in your rigid shoulders, in the furious hurt brightening your eyes.

He’d known it, he remembered now, even as he walked away from you: if he’d told you about his mother’s call, you would’ve fought for him.

That was why he hadn’t.

He knew that fighting with his parents was like standing in front of an oncoming train and asking it politely to stop. That’s what it had always felt like. You could exhaust yourself, give it your whole soul, and still change nothing.

He didn’t think he deserved the effort. The sacrifice.

“So, then,” you said, hands clenched so tightly your knuckles hurt. “Since we’re talking now, you’re not worried about what else your mum might do?”

Yeonjun sat very still.

Below the balcony, a motorcycle revved hard enough for the sound to echo between the buildings. The two of you listened to it fade, block by block, into the city.

“I’m not in touch with my family anymore,” he said at last.

You frowned, turning back to him. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, bringing a hand over his face, “I stopped going to dinners. Stopped answering their calls. Got a job. Got Violet. Moved out of the house they bought me, got my own place.” He glanced back toward the balcony doors. Violet’s tail was still visible beneath the shifting curtains. “I haven’t talked to my parents in months.”

Your brows stayed furrowed.

“Okay,” you said. “That—I get that.”

“Yeah.” He leaned back in the chair. “This had never happened before, them just letting me exist in silence. Even after Alain, we carried on as normal. But this is different. We’re not—we’re not talking anymore.”

Your gaze drifted past the balcony, towards the birch trees lining the street below. Their leaves shimmered with silver-green in the dying sun.

Alain, then.

People like you and me, he’d told you the only time you met him, aren’t irreplaceable in his life.

“It’s not entirely different, though,” you said. You could feel your pulse in every word. “Your parents forced Alain out of your life, and there was nothing you could do. Then years later, they forced me out, too.” Your gaze returned to him. “And again, there was nothing you could do.”

Yeonjun felt a wave of heat wash over him, so strong it hurt.

“It is different, though,” he said.

“How?”

He blinked incredibly slowly.

“It—I let them take Alain,” he said. “I played along when they acted like everything was fine. But I didn’t do that aft-after you.”

Something tightened in your expression. You lowered your head before he could recognise what it was.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “So what do you think would happen if your parents found out we both lived here? That we’re talking again?”

His gaze dropped.

“You think they couldn’t do anything else?” you pressed. “I’m back at university. I see your mum’s building every day. You really think your scheme wouldn’t accidentally come true anyway?”

He visibly flinched at the word.

“But I’m not speaking to them anymore,” he insisted. This was all he had. “They took it too far—t-they had to get the message.”

“Do you think they did?”

His eyes settled on the empty plate between you, red and blue around the edges. It was one of the first things he bought after moving out.

He realised now, staring at the crumbs, that his parents might not think this was permanent at all. They might think he was throwing a tantrum. Sulking. They might be waiting for him to come home again.

You were right, he thought. He hadn’t stood up for himself, or for Alain, or for you.

He’d just looked away.

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly.

You nodded.

“Nothing’s changed, Jun,” you said softly. “We’re sitting here talking, and everything’s still the same as before.”

Yeonjun looked down.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, staring at the grout between the tiles, “that I let my parents decide this, too.”

You let out a slow breath. “You shouldn’t apologise for that. You didn’t choose your family.”

“M’not apologising for my family.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers locked together. “I’m apologising for not holding onto you. For not keeping my word when I said I’d never let them harm you. I—I shouldn’t have agreed with any of my mum’s options.”

You looked out beyond the railing.

The light was changing now. The birch trees had already fallen into shadow.

After you didn’t speak, he added quietly: “I should’ve told you.”

You moved at last, folding your hands together in your lap. Something turned low in your stomach while you tried to understand where to put all of this inside yourself. And where to go from here.

“Why, um—why did you want to explain everything now?” you asked. “After so long. I wasn’t exactly making it easy for you.”

He glanced down.

“I’ve wanted to for a while after you came back,” he said. “But I didn’t know how. And it—well, I suspected you wouldn’t want to hear from me anyway. But now—living here finally gave me an opportunity to do it.”

“But why do it at all?”

He took a shuddering breath.

“Because you should know,” he said. “I made you think that none of it was real. That I didn’t love you. And that’s not true.”

Your pulse thudded against your clasped hands.

“Why,” you said, losing your courage faster than you could catch it, “is that something I need to know?”

His chest tightened.

He realised what you were really asking him.

“Because it’s the truth,” he said. “And I’m not saying I love you because I expect you to say it back.”

You closed your eyes.

For a second, you could almost visualise the band-aid Reina had mentioned. You’d peeled it back just enough to see the wound underneath. It was still alive. It stung.

“Do you think it’s easy for me to hear that now?” you asked, your voice cracking on the last word. You cleared your throat immediately. “To believe it after everything.”

He swallowed. “I know. But it—it’s still true.”

You looked up at the table between you.

“I get it, though,” he added. “You think I’m explaining this because I want us to pick up where we left off.”

You didn’t answer.

Yeonjun looked back towards the street. In the evening light, the building opposite had turned blue. A few of the windows were already glowing.

“I appreciate you explaining,” you said after a moment. “I just—I thought I’d had my thoughts sorted. They weren’t bothering me. And then—then you started fucking hammering downstairs, and I went to check. And now I don’t know what anything means.”

He looked up from the balcony railings. “What would you want it to mean?”

You took a deep breath, glancing up at the sky overhead.

“It’s not that I don’t want things to be normal again,” you said. Then looked back down. “Actually, I don’t even know what normal is.”

“Yeah,” he said, turning away. “I-I get it. The least I could do was tell you everything, but that doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t do it before. Or that I left.”

You hated that it all came down to one decision not to tell you the truth. And now you were on your balcony, months later, and everything he was saying, the good and the bad, scared you in equal parts.

“Well,” you said quietly, “I understand why you didn’t do it before.”

His head dipped. “Thank you.”

Somewhere inside the flat, something dropped to the floor. You heard it roll across the tiles. Neither of you moved to check what it was.

The streets below you were growing louder now; it was Friday night. Nara’s birthday dinner would soon be starting across the city. Beomgyu was probably already on a last-minute booze run.

Yeonjun swallowed.

He wanted to promise that he would never leave again. Wanted to swear that he’d fight this time, that he’d stay, do better.

But he’d made promises before. And the memory of him breaking them still lived inside you both.

He inhaled carefully and offered the only honest thing he had:

“We don’t have to—we don’t need to do anything.”

You lifted your gaze to him. For once, neither of you looked away immediately.

The last glint of sunlight caught the loose strands of his hair falling over his forehead. His eyes were slightly squinted. You remembered tracing his features at night, lying in bed next to him, half-asleep. He’d been so beautiful then.

Even worse now.

“What will we do, then?” you asked.

Yeonjun found hope in the question. You didn’t trust this yet, but you still wanted there to be a this.

He glanced down briefly, thumb rubbing over the side of his left wrist.

“I’d like us to be friends,” he said.

When he looked back up, your lips were already curving. He smiled back instinctively.

He didn’t know what it meant to be your friend. But it sounded infinitely better than not being yours at all.

“Hmm,” you murmured. “Never tried that before.”

A soft laugh escaped him. “Yeah. Reckon it’d go well. We’re clearly very normal around each other.”

You laughed, too, and something lightened in your chest—just a little. Just enough to take a solid breath.

You didn’t know if friendship between you was possible at all, maybe it was a terrible idea. But it wasn’t nothing. And it wasn’t everything.

“Okay,” you said before you could change your mind. “We can try being friends.”

“Yeah?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. I don’t know. Why not?”

The smile that spread across his face was so warm that you had to look away for a second.

“Okay,” he said, pushing himself slowly out of the chair. His hands spread slightly at his sides. “Can I—?”

You stood before he finished speaking.

The movement startled a grin out of him. “Oh—yeah?”

“Fuck off.”

He laughed as you stepped into him and folded into his open arms. He pulled you against his chest at once, warm and shaking slightly.

Your hands settled around his waist, still familiar with his shape. Your cheek pressed against his shoulder. You could feel his heartbeat, a little uneven. But slower than last weekend. Calmer.

“Would you have invited me in,” he murmured against your hair, “if I hadn’t brought the biscuits?”

Your smile pressed against the side of his neck. “Of course not.”

His laughter was a gentle ripple between you. You relaxed into him.

“Did you bake the biscuits, then,” you returned, “just so I’d invite you in?”

His arms tightened around you. “Of course.”

You laughed softly, your breath warm against his skin. He exhaled fully for what felt like the first time in a year and five months.

The sky continued to darken overhead.

For now, this was enough.

prev ○ next (coming soon)

taglist:

@eleni-cherie @enhastolemyheart @beestvng @tomorrowbytgt @insaniteez @sorikkunhwangpil @yaintpaint @ohsowoozi @di3t-w0ter @virgopotterhead @beomgyusluver @pagesoobinie @champagne1221 @jammerhammerbanger @reiofsuns2001 @belabobanana @hheerrmmiitt @myglogic @mountyuki @adoresjjk @hueningsgirl @gunsfave @nanilis @yjcam @human-misery @angelgraphica @sooberriesx @yystarz @4wkjun @xjunniee @littlemoasoobin @kkyubear @proudsolarpunk @hyukalife @grogwrites @tarahardcore @jaegerbombin @danjakz @i4tzy @llvcyj @kookieterry @b9oms @starstrucktae @apriglw @mo0nstardust @koobiiiistar @unfiirt @yawnjjunnie @usuallyunlikelyfox @isakwon

One pair of hands encircling his neck, the other firmly gripping the waist of the more delicate body as it undulated up and down against the firmer one; intense, deep bounces, without the peculiar desperation that had brought them to that point in the first place.

Lotus position, perfect for demonstrating their feelings for each other, allowed them to draw as close as possible, establishing deep within their souls the overwhelming need to be together no matter what, because it was always written that their souls were meant to merge, achieving it only in the most carnal and worldly way possible, the closest they could come to Nirvana, at least on that material plane.

Short gasps and unintelligible murmurs clashed between two mouths that couldn't decide whether to kiss each other hungrily or utter each other's names like a prayer as they made love passionately...

Full lips swollen from so many kisses that night, to make up for the time he had wasted so many years hiding his true feelings for fear of losing her forever. Sharp eyes, half-closed, glassy. His pupils dilated as he gazed at the view before him, maintaining eye contact with hers, thinking that if he were to close his eyes for even a second, everything would vanish into a misty dream.

A slight lean and their lips met again in a slow, deep kiss, the sounds of their mouths echoing off the bedroom walls, joining the symphony of sounds that surrounded them in their small, warm world, just for them.

His strong arms encircled her warm body, a layer of sweat covering her smooth, perfect skin, one arm around her waist, the other resting on her back between her shoulder blades, scratching her skin every now and then when pleasure overwhelmed his senses. The kiss broke, eliciting a moan from both of them. He rested his forehead against her shoulder, his breath growing heavier as he tried to steady himself, feeling her velvety walls contract around him—a clear sign that the imminent climax was near, and that it would soon engulf both their bodies.

He lost himself in the sensation of being buried deep within her enveloping warmth, the feeling of now being whole with her in his arms like this made his breath quicken, his heart pound wildly.

He lifted his head, his gaze locked with hers, their noses brushing, their lips almost touching.

“N-never... never let me go...”

The words came out as a breathless babble, his voice barely a pleading, vulnerable whisper. His half-closed eyes grew more glassy, the film of tears about to spill over. His gaze locked on hers, a look of pure love, desire, and longing.

“Stay here, w-with me... let me stay inside you, where I belong, forever, please...”

You open the door and see a mid-sized box sitting there, waiting for you. You kneel to pick it up - rather heavy - then gasp with indignation.

It's your address but not your name. Cause last time you checked, Min Yoongi was a boy and lived in a different place, but that's beyond words. You tiptoe back into the apartment, pulling the door closed after yourself with the hook of your finger, then put the box down a little heavier than normal, and bow to read the information again, just to be sure.

Yoongi has been doing this very funny thing when he puts in your address when ordering something online. He types in the right name and even the phone number, so the delivery people call him to specify the time of dropping the parcels by at your place. At first, you thought it was funny, just about one single time. But the joke got old very quickly; next, it became irritating when he would barge in questioning why you weren't at home on this day and on that time, when the delivery people wanted to grace you with their presence.

Absurd? Sure.

Then you started suspecting he does it on purpose. Like, on the fourth time.

Then finally he confessed: he is kind of paranoid about the secret services learning his address. Why would secret services want you, Yoongi? you asked him, baring you teeth in bitter irony. Of course, of course. The secret services just sleep and dream about catching and seizing an architecture student with bad blonde dye. Sure. He said, accept my quirks, or we're not friends anymore.

You never had a choice anyway. Surprisingly, all his parcels arriving to your house is a minute problem compared to Yoongi's whole presence in your life. Because not being friends is completely out of the question, and it's empty threats. Just like his threats to smack you, kick you or break both your arms. It's just his mouth talking, talking. In reality, even if Yoongi has a violent bone in him, he applies it on others, and not you.

You finally start piecing things together when the sixth parcel in a row is delivered to you, and he calls the same day demanding to know if you accepted it. Eventually he has even adjusted the deliveries to your schedule so that his shit doesn't get shipped back anymore.

You push the box to the wall with your foot carefully and go back into the room to continue what you were doing.

It takes the whole evening and a portion of the night for you to finally message Yoongi about the thing. Weird that he hasn't reached out himself yet; usually he watches over his parcels like a hawk, but maybe he is really busy. His studies are hard, and the spring time is coming with exams, so he is normally buried under the piles of digital books, hunched in his small bed, slouched, busy.

At one in the morning, you finally drop him a word, thinking about why you've been stalling. You know why. You just don't want to even let it into your mind.

If Yoongi comes round, he will stay. There's a lesser chance he will stay in the middle of the night, or that he will even drag himself out of the house. It's not that you don't want to see him; Yoongi is your best friend.

It's the reason why you don't want him to linger around.

The fluffy-headed short guy with white hair covering his eyes was the only one who heard you when you said something smells like smoke.

He walked across the room full of colourless, deaf, disinterested people, and nodded at you, signalling to show him the way. You weren't that alarmed - just thought the owner of the apartment (Namjoon) would be interested to know something is burning in his kitchen.

"I don't drink much", was all Yoongi said with a curvy smile that made his chin dimple, when you complained about people not paying attention. You walked into the small, round kitchen together, and he crooked his neck to see the empty pan heating up on the stove. You watched his calm, unhurried movements as he pulled a towel off the cupboard and wrapped his hand in it; then pushed the pan away and turned off the stove.

He then turned and dug his gaze into you, slightly tilting his head back, because the hair was an obstacle to see.

He looked at you like he recognized you.

Like you said something funny: his eyes got warmer.

Student parties must have collided people together; as a concept, it was invented to hook people up. However you didn't hook up; Yoongi said 'bim bam boom', and you bent in half with laughter. You drunk a lot that night, and everything he did seemed funny. This chemically blonde guy, throwing his head back instead of moving the hair away, dry with his words, sarcastic, kind of looked around like he disapproved of everything at the party. Except for you. You were at the same campus, different courses. You had seen him before: a snow-white head floating around the university, hard to miss in the sea of black. He had seen you longer.

You have an idea that Yoongi... likes you? Craves you? Watches you? He's the type of friend that feels like you've known him for years when in reality even 450 days ago you hadn't known his name. Everything just clicks. The music taste. The outlook on the world. The judgment. The favourite type of coffee. The only thing that's different is the ambition. He knows he will be an architect. He knows he will earn a lot of money. He sees the path and he wants it. He plans to some day build a luxury spa center in the shape of a huge lotus flower.

You? You survive on coffee he brings over in the morning, often on the run, the takes off to the other side of the campus. And just row. Go outside. Read books. You are interested in other things. You watch him, thinking, wow. This is a monster.

Then Yoongi watches you back and you realize he doesn't look this way at anybody else.

Yoongi is the best companion you've had in all your life. It's inexplicable. He's idiotically funny and rude, dry, trustworthy, serious when it's needed, and so, so blonde. When in crowd, his head shines, beams at you kilometers away, you can't lose him.

You can't lose him.

But you still doubt when sending him a message.

"your parcel has arrived" "what parcel?"

You snort into your pillow, look at the time. No way he will travel from another district now, should be safe.

"the parcel you have ordered at my address, again" "oh that parcel."

then, a minute later, he texts:

"it arrived at one in the morning?"

You sigh and shake your head no although he can't see you. You can feel the indignation through the message. One text is usually enough to tell Yoongi's mood. You don't know how either of you does it - you feel him. He is pissed about something and will take it out on you now. You refuse to reply, instead plunging deeper into your bed, curling comfortably under the blanket, toes slightly cold, pressing against each other.

"was the delivery guy a vampire or sum" "ffs"

You brush him off and switch your apps to pacify yourself before sleep by staring at funny videos. But Yoongi becomes active in the night time, just like his theoretical vampire delivery guy who brings parcels at night.

"why you waited all day to text me?"

The ringing demand in it glares at you; Yoongi doesn't let go. You start suspecting he is lamenting the fact that he won't come over tonight. Just when you reinforce your comforting thought, he drops another-

"i'll be in fifteen" "no"

You jump out of bed. Your feet kick, the blanket flies up like it's a bat's wing.

You don't know where the determination came from, but you want to punish him for always misguiding his feelings onto you in the form of scold.

Yoongi likes spending time with you. And can't get enough of it. And blames you for it, sometimes even trying to gaslight you into thinking you're the needy one.

It's a bit clinical.

He is lucky he is so eye-cuttingly cute and so, so captivating with that feral aggressive charisma that you can't stop keeping him around.

You walk barefooted into the corridor where the massive parcel is still patiently waiting by the wall, abandoned and shy. You put your feet into the funny monkey-shaped rubber slippers Yoongi gave you because 'they reminded him of you', and then stall for just a second, thinking what kind of wrath you will be calling upon yourself. Doesn't matter. If it means you get to go to sleep soon, it will be worth it.

You sneak into the street and place the fucking parcel next to the neatly tucked dumpsters. The weather is dry, street is clean. The parcel almost looks like a pet you're kicking out. The phone in your hand, edge of it painfully poking you into the palm, vibrates again.

"no, twenty, the lock is jammed" "pick it up by the dumpsters"

A pause.

"you didn't" "i need to go to sleep"

You curse yourself for even texting him in the first place. It's almost like you knew what he'd do, and wanted to take your chances.

Seriously, risking that grumpy, displeased, ruffled, snow-head Yoongi will show up at your doorstep in the dead of night, has the truly Gemini edge to it. You want it. But you don't though. You love his energy. You know it will disrupt your whole night and make you oversleep in the morning.

Yoongi's insults and complaints trickle into your phone in the form of notifications peeping in your hand as you walk back to the building. The night spring air, still cold for promenades, not flowery-scented yet, is threatening to kill your desire to sleep with the freshness, so you hurry.

You beg the universe to make Yoongi tired enough tonight so that he gives up, but you know these prayers are futile. Not even God will want to deal with that angry, obsessive raccoon.

Twenty minutes later, a notification of yet another text echoes the ring of the doorbell:

"you really threw my fucking keyboard to the dumpsters"

You turn off the light pretending it will exorcise him from behind the door like a demon. It doesn't work.

"open the door"

The phone is too big for your hands; you squint at its light.

"you got it? go home" "didn't freeze my ears off for half an hour to not beat you up now" "go home" "open ze door"

You hate how his dumbness puts a smile to your face. He bangs on the door outside. Two minutes before a neighbour peeks out and starts cursing him, and then Yoongi will unleash all he has, and you will be the butt of the joke.

"home"

You try for the last time.

"open. door."

He suddenly bangs so hard it reminds you of that scary-ish night when it dawned on you Yoongi might be crazy. These short, unexpected flashes of rage would have been completely off-putting if not for his unwavering devotion to your... friendship?

It was a short, eye-opening moment, really. You noted how Namjoon wasn't surprised at all, only, slightly upset. He looked guilty. Knew Yoongi way longer than you did.

When your elbow slipped off the window sill (tipsy) and you ouched audibly, rubbing it, it attracted attention of Joonho (drunk) who stumbled towards you, confusing you with someone else. You made sure he did, because he kept calling you Hani. You even tried to specify if he means the actress? but the guy was so wasted it was embarrassing. His whiskey breath engulfing your head like a helmet; you slouched trying to get away from him, from under the arm he pressed against the window. It was on the first and only storey of Namjoon's mother's modest but beautiful home. Nobody deserved what transpired. As you bent your shoulders and knees to get away, Joonho grabbed you by the arm in a more of a reckless, mindless drunk gesture, as in 'no wait', not even the 'you're not going anywhere' way. But Yoongi was there, ten steps away, elbowing his way to you. You came to the party together, a couple of besties, and left it together also, but in a very changed state of mind.

The whole scene didn't even last a minute - that's how quickly snowball head Yoongi made that decision; he noticed his hand on you, and something primal in him took the wheel. The time it took him to walk across the room couldn't be more than three seconds. He is a small, delicate boy: just about a head taller than you, thin wrists, more of a twink, actually. But the force with which he grabbed the poor drunk idiot belonged to someone you didn't know. With the whole body, Yoongi shoved him - only, there was a window in the way, and so Joonho got crashed into it, and then through it, and fell out on the grass in the yard.

The party went quiet. The shatter of glass, sharp, melodic like techno, contrasted with Yoongi's deadly pale face in that moment. You managed to catch the moment when the animal unclutched his brain, and the light returned to his eyes, rebooting his system.

But it was too late. Yoongi shoved a guy through the window for grabbing you without consent - and that was the thing you could never forget. That's that.

You have had several healthy conversations with yourself about that and so far still weren't completely sure this part of him isn't dangerous. Let's reframe it: not dangerous to you. The way he bangs on the door right now, booming through the quiet stairwell, can be anything. It can be your last night on this earth: it might be the animal and not Yoongi the friend behind the door.

You still get up from the bed, striding slowly through the sleepy darkness of your small rented apartment; he is luring you like a bog light. It's almost useless lying to yourself; you might not be in love with him. You definitely do not suffer from the smoky, bizarre obsession Yoongi seems to have about you. But you aren't ready to block his number either. Not out of fear. No. It's the... his eyes when the animal retreats.

You unlock the door and see him in the spring jacket that's too light for the nighttime. Nose still red from the cold, he is jumping lightly like he is either freezing or his bladder is full.

"This wasn't an invitation, you know", you grumble, standing your ground. Yoongi is about to take the step forward but stops himself, seeing that you're blocking the way to the corridor.

"I need to pee".

You roll your eyes. It's pleasant, almost delirious to pretend he annoys you. He does the same all the time; calls you immature to rile you up; forgetful to anger you; insists on following you, in order to see the whites of your eyes. It's youth and all its sweet, cringe-free pretence. You step aside with a sigh and mumble immediately:

"You leave after. I need to go to sleep like an hour ago. I need to get up early".

He sniffs shortly, the parcel he'd picked up by the dumpsters again inside your apartment. It drops from under his arm as he walks in and quickly kicks off his shoes and, without looking at you, walks straight to the bathroom.

He always does something there. Every time he's in there, you hear him open the mirror cupboard doors (he doesn't need to; there's nothing of his concern inside), shuffle around the products, the toothpaste and the brush on the sink, and moving the little sliding shelf next to the shower cabin.

When you ask him what he is doing, Yoongi usually replies that he "assesses". Sometimes it's easier not to inquire.

You look at the parcel resting at exactly the same spot next to the wall again. And simply walk into the bedroom. You hear him pee in the dead quiet of the apartment; then turn on the water. Your feet against the floor, still cold after the winter, and not a single alarm going off in your brain.

Maybe the animal is never out to get you.

You snuggle back into the bed still convincing yourself you will be able to command him away from under the blanket, from the shrimp position you've assumed. Once Yoongi noticed how you sleep, he wouldn't stop teasing you about being neurodivergent, the T-Rex hands making him snap with laughter. You've always thought it's the loneliness pose. The trying to curl into yourself for comfort.

The bathroom door opens, and he proceeds with silent, cat steps, and you only hear him when his jacket shuffles inside the bedroom.

"No street cl-"

"I remember", he mutters and takes it off. Losing him in the darkness is as impossible as in the crowd. He is all sugary-white like a ghost. You see his pale wrists grab the hems of the jacket and pull it off, then throw it back into the corridor, right on the floor. You close your eyes for a second.

Wouldn't be the first time.

"Why did you have to take it outside? What if someone had stolen my keyboard?" he whines, unmoving, in front of bed, like an alien visiting you with the intention to abduct.

You scoff into the pillow.

"The street is empty".

You think about how late it is, and it makes you moan. Only about five hours left of sleep.

"Maybe you should stop ordering your shit and putting in my address".

He hums indifferently. You can hear him doing something. The clothes rustle very softly, on the edge of audibility. You open your eyes to see what the fuck the guy is doing - he is sitting on the edge of bed, taking off socks. His house sweatpants he put on when leaving the house are also shining grey in the indigo dark of the room.

You never even thought of asking yourself what you two are. Have a feeling this dynamic is pretty rare. You missed the moment when Yoongi became a weird ghost present in your every day and not just a best friend.

He slowly walks around the bed crawling towards the other side, and gently lifts the edge of the blanket, like you're a forest deer that may dart if he produces a sharp movement.

"I need sleep", you warn him, muffled, against the pillow, and he sighs like he is at least sixty-eight,

"Yes? You only mentioned it forty times in the span of a minute. Go to sleep then".

Lying on your side with your head slightly turned, you see his rogue leg kicking his portion of the blanket down and lie on top of it as he stretches next to you.

Truth is, even his scent is so soothing that it immediately makes you sleepy. You get sleepy around him often. Psychologists say it's a sign of compatibility and peace? Yoongi doesn't touch you, not even by accident; he produces a single deep purr when his phone beeps from the corridor, in the pocket of his jacket. When it beeps again, you groan, irritation growing in you, and he groans in reponse, jumping off heavily, like it's your fault.

When he returns, you feel the bed cave in again, and close your eyes.

"We should do it more often", he says, and finally awkwardness dawns on you. You tense a little.

"Sleepovers", he clarifies and turns to his side. You can feel his eyes peering into the back of your neck.

You can't hear him breathe. You can't hear him walk. In the morning you wake up, shaking a nasty dream off yourself: you were walking in the forest, and a bird flew off the tree, tipping it, and the trunk fell on you, burying you on the ground. The weight is Yoongi's arm around your waist, pale fist relaxed next to your stomach, knuckles pointing to your solar plexus. His nails are always neatly cut, very short, clean, because he would nibble on them if he didn't get rid of them. Even his hand is screaming unrest. And yet, when he stays over, silently crawling into your warmth, pretending it's nothing, you sleep very well. The animal guards you.

He leaves before the classes start, forgetting the damn parcel near the wall in your corridor. Forgetting, right. Forgetting he put it there. The keyboard is so important that he forgets to take it with him. He forgets.

─────────────── ✧

Yoongi is surprisingly forgetful, although you find it a relief sometimes. Every fifth time it skips his mind that you had plans for an evening or he was supposed to pick you up from somewhere. You linger on those occasions demonstrating his absent-mindedness, hoping they are proof that he isn't completely consumed by you.

Ever since he bought an old used car, he's been your designated driver; the concept of him succeeding in his little ambitious projects (find an evening job, stay an A-student meanwhile, get a car) makes you feel more respect to him, gradually pushing the image of an irrational, chaotic, capricious snowball head from your mind.

Now you wish Yoongi thought a little more about you tonight specifically as you leave the gym. The empty dark street has become chilly about four hours ago; you take out your phone scanning the road with your eyes, searching for his little white Hyundai parked nearby. The only person who had shared the workout with you at such a late hour is leaving behind your back: it's a gym worker. A buff tall guy in a cap, also dressed too light for this early spring weather; he throws you one expressionless look, and you don't linger on his broad back. The phone in your hand lights up as you type a message to the only person you trust fully. Perhaps you shouldn't. But you do. You are in too deep.

"where are you?" "homy"

Of course. You walk slowly towards the empty bus stop, lit up softly with pinkish-lilac neon signs. Your butt feels fragile against the cold iron bench, and you wiggle.

"why???"

Yoongi replies with an annoyed emoji.

In a minute, he remembers.

"oh shit"

He probably is completely lost under his papers; exams are coming, and Yoongi is about the only person you know who sincerely enjoys studying. You don't really blame him; he will do it well himself. You simply chuckle, reading his swift chain of apologies, and put your workout bag under yourself to sit on something warmer.

"hang on, i will be there in 15"

The city is almost empty at midnight; through the glass wall, you watch the street with feeble plum trees recuperating slowly after another winter. Soon, this district will bloom pink and yellow, white and purple, and be very beautiful. You might even make Yoongi walk here with you, under the guise of simply spending time together, as opposed to sharing this beauty with him. Because he is kinda similar to all that bloom: fluffy and in light colours, and vulnerable. No, not that way. Yoongi is vulnerable like a bare wire.

You look at the time on your wristwatch and shiver slightly, not properly cold yet. One lonely person passes by on the other side of the road without looking at you. It's boring; time drags out so slowly, the hand of the watch seemingly unwilling to move. Your earphones are dead, so your brain gulps, squirms for immediate entertainment. You take the phone again, a part of you capricious like a little kid who is reaching out for cake right now.

"a creepy guy just sat next to me lol"

The reply comes almost immediately. You can clearly imagine Yoongi driving and typing; he does it all the time. One hand on the wheel, long fingers guiding the vehicle without any tension at all. And the eyes on the screen, looking from under his thick white hair.

"where ?" "i'm on the bus stop" "walk away but not far don't run"

You sigh and lean against the glass, smirking. No idea why. Simply bored. Maybe it will make him drive faster. The muscles in your legs hurt so much you dream about a hot shower and the crisp of your bed. It can't happen soon enough.

"???" "i crossed the street"

You pause for a little to make it seem more realistic. The street is still hollow, almost all buildings dark just like the closed gym behind your back.

"he's following me loool"

The silence that comes after makes you feel a little uncomfortable. You rub your eyes with your hand, then yawn. These bus stops are becoming more and more dreamy each year. Holographic ad spread out softly inside the glass with that pleasant greenish tint. The only bad thing about them are these ice-cold iron benches that always evoke the female childhood trauma of "do not sit on the cold surfaces!!!"

"where is he? keep walking" "i'm almost there"

You read the messages and feel your ears tune in with the quiet of the street. The big avenue several blocks away hisses and blares with the commotion, and his white shambly Hyundai, a personification of him, is supposed to divert from there any second now. You stand up, pulling the bag onto your shoulder, and manage to make several steps forward, when you hear Yoongi before you see him.

His little car, an old, hardworking baby he clawed out for five million won, is sliding across the clean, still chilly asphalt, and Yoongi brakes sharply next to the bus stop. The driver door kicks open, and you realize he will never not be attractive to you. From the moment he crossed that dense, smoke-filled living room in Namjoon's house, he stood out to you in the ways that are subtly beyond simple explanation. There's a certain flexibility in the way he exits the car, with shoulders already raised, a little cat ready to fight a rottweiler; hair shining against the unevenly lit dark midnight street. The white hair that takes in the chewy neon lights of the bus stop like a sponge.

His eyes scan the space behind you as you walk towards the car unhurriedly. Yoongi cuts the distance between you in two strides, his jaw slightly unhinged: his brain is either focused on keeping his mouth closed, or it isn't.

"Huh? Where..." he turns his head to look across the road. You fail to notice the vein on his throat: too dark; and the fists clenched by his sides: focused on his face. You grin apologetically. Yoongi's skin is pinkish as the holografic ad changes on the glass.

"Thought you'd be here sooner if I created a reliable threat for you".

Suddenly his eyes slide back onto you, and grinning dies by itself. His mouth opens again. He is wearing home sweatpants as always: probably dropped the pen and left the house immediately, throwing the jacket on his back, as he realized he'd forgotten about the gym night. The beatle-black eyes from under the hair drill into you for a second, and then Yoongi steps up. You're half-way to his car, the bag in your hand, something in your brain itching you to get inside sooner rather than later; you turn to look at him; Yoongi's shoulders raise back again, and in the next second, he crashes his fist into the glass wall of the bus stop.

An almost nauseating flashback into the party. Only, the sound of glass is different. Your foot freezes in front of you, neck almost cramping with tension as your whole body asks: fight? flight? stay?

The glass glitches into a grey net of shards; hundres of them fall on the ground in front of him at once, to Yoongi's feet. Your fist clenches the bag in an iron grip as your eyes bulge.

Together with the hissing sound of the glass, you see a short, almost unnoticeable burst of red: the skin on his fist explodes with the force he applied to the blow.

The back of his head drops, shoulders lower, relaxing; then Yoongi turns around, and your gaze slides onto his hand. Blood dripping on the asphalt. He relaxes the palm, straightening fingers, trying to feel how bad it is, probably.

"Good prank", he says softly. Your eyes dart back to his face. It's a little tired, greyish now that he had destroyed the source of the futuristic shine.

"You think you're overreacting a bit?" you ask. Throat dry. Yoongi shakes his head like he always does; it's not an answer, he ignores the question. He always fixes his hair that way, covering his eyes, like he doesn't want you to see them.

He drives back with one hand, the bloody palm lying on his lap, fingers half-bent, the crevices of the nails filled with red. At home, you tug on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, pulling him into the bathroom, and look at the broken knuckles in the bright light. Tiredness is forgotten; all nerves in your body are concentrated on him. You are in awe the most about how your brain is completely sleeping on the danger of him. Get into his car. Get him into your home. Kicking the long-forgotten and ignored keyboard in the parcel box, still unopened, still unneeded.

Yoongi yanks the hand away from you, refusing to give into the silent moment, and turns on the water. He knows his way around your place: opens the shelf doors and takes out the antiseptic and several cottons swabs. He starts cleaning his cuts by himself, blinking aimlessly, one tip of his mouth sucked in, like he doesn't feel pain at all.

"You wanna tell me something about your violent outbursts?" you ask gently, sitting yourself on the closed lid of the toilet.

Even behind the hair, you can see he is frowning.

"Just reacting to circumstances".

Yoongi is like a shark. He is slow, observant and unstoppable. Knowing him in his everyday life, you'd say he doesn't really react to things. Lets them slide off of him unless they pinch him directly.

"Overreacting".

He curls his mouth, and it might look capricious to some, but puts a smile on your face.

"Don't be toxic".

It's the first time in the whole year and a half you've known him, that he opens up:

"I have big emotions".

"About?"

Yoongi puts out his hand above the sink, dissatisfied with the intricate work the swab does. And pours the antiseptic straight to his knuckles; you can see the separate pieces of skin upturned by the blow, the spots of collision; the abrasion exposing his red flesh. It sizzles and bubbles as the hydrogen peroxide bites into his hand. The natural empathy makes your jaw ache for a moment as your eyes clutch the view. Yoongi doesn't flinch. He makes a fist softly, then opens the cupboard again and searches for a bandaid. You completely forget he avoids the question again; the defined curve of his jaw has an almost glistening clarity to it; you leave the bathroom to get him a band from the kitchen.

Neither of you feels like speaking. You feel a bit shitty for your little stunt, finding it tasteless in any context; however, with Yoongi, the problem of it is pushed to the background.

You turn around on the other side, half-asleep, and bump into him. Had crawled from the edge of the bed, so soundlessly, closer to you, like he is a snake shapeshifter. Sometimes Yoongi makes you think of the sleep paralysis demon standing above you as you sleep. The white of him an unmistakeable beacon in the blackness of your bedroom protected from the outside by thick purple curtains.

The sleepiness only allows about 40% of your brain to function, so, just like when you're a little drunk, the conventional defenses are down. Your hand lifts up from the mattress and gets to his head; curious, you rake the hair off his forehead, and Yoongi opens his eyes, two black slits, cat-like, on the white face. His wounded hand flinches under his chin but rests. You see the top part of his face so rarely, like it's an unexplored, or forbidden, territory. His strong, smooth forehead is alien under your palm. You don't know what you expected - perhaps not two perfectly symmetric, angular eyebrows. His eyes watching you lazily, half-lidded.

He says,

"I won't let anything happen to you".

The sound is blunt against the pillow. And the next second - perhaps you dreamt it? he charges at you, like a spider.

─────────────── ✧

You rarely see your sister. The family - a sore spot in your body - is a distant concept. You've thought of yourself as alone the last five or so years. Relatives staying behind in another city, that naive, tall, young girl with fencing as a hobby being your only thread connecting you to the blood. She is reserved, too. The children in your family... you feel the weird, seismic connection in between how Yoongi hides his eyes from you, and the arm-length distance your own sister is keeping you at. Never talking about feelings. Never sharing the trauma of growing up in a religious fanatics family. But in the short hugs you exchange once every two years, there's still familiar, deeply-hidden flame: i love you. Like it's an embarrassing secret, like it's something dirty.

She meets you at the coffeeshop near the university, and you try to pretend like he is your personal poltergeist pet when he comes round exactly an hour in, having given you two time to reconnect. He said he might. You know his 'might', unlike with other men, is always actually 'definitely'. The smaller the deal he makes about his promises, the more sure they are to become true.

The last time you've seen this girl, she was still in high school. Now, barely out of it, she is growing into a young woman. Five years behind you, the same eyes though. You see them stare at Yoongi curiously when he leans against his chair, his arm spread on the back of yours, fingers tracing symbols on your spine casually. There was no definite let's date between you, of course. This is you, your familial curse, and Yoongi fitting into the shape of it perfectly. All smoke, all implications instead of proclamations.

He is to be stared at, you don't find it criminal. Feral, slender, slightly stooping, he shakes his hair onto his eyes, then, surprisingly, puts his finger into it and moves some away, showing an eyebrow. Stares back at her.

"You look alike", he grins shyly, the corners of his smile forming tiny half-moons on his cheeks. The conversation screeches to a halt when he arrives: not that it was natural before, so his sudden appearance actually made it worse. He is disruptive to any system you build around yourself; barging in, throwing snowy glow, drawing glances. Yoongi doesn't contribute any more to the conversation, just leaning back, relaxed, sipping black coffee, his fingers scratching your back. Sometimes her eyes dart to him, like she is saying things for him to hear and acknowledge. She has always been like that: transparent in her focus. Eyes bigger than yours, she is like a simpler copy of you.

What you fail to notice is how Yoongi keeps meeting her gaze, never refusing her a return look.

"You should see her more often", he suggests when you leave the coffeeshop. Yoongi's hand envelops yours in an insufferably warm gesture. Feels right. That's what doesn't let you rest.

"The girl clearly misses you".

"When I text, she rarely replies", you note, "we both have problems... with communication".

He doesn't press.

You don't see your sister for another four years after that.

─────────────── ✧

Yoongi doesn't kiss; he devours you. He shows with all his body that he wants you. You still don't officially date: rather, you belong to each other. With every touch that your spare each other, attraction grows, like you have been put under the spell. Only, he's been put earlier. Otherwise, it's monotonously sweet, like breathing in the drug.

It's disruptive to studies; you can't leave your rented apartment for days, curled, pressed into the mattress, sometimes without touching, sometimes just talking. Although it would be fair to mention that talking happens less often when his mouth is in your vicinity.

Yoongi's favoutire meal: what's in between your legs. He brings over food for you and starves, waiting until you're finished, to glue himself to your vulva until you visibly thrash around. He doesn't stop when you come; you have to pull his head away with force and in the moments when his eyes flick up on you, you see the animal is at the wheel, trying to cannibalise you. He never hurts you, unless you ask; no, he needs you metacarnally. The first time you have actual sex, it's his head pressed against the inner side of your thigh, tongue licking your residual from his lips, the hand caressing your stomach because you're shaking. And the quiet, thin "I need to fuck you now; please". You think he is being too careful for someone who might call you an idiot 'as a joke' four hundred times in one day, so you just whisper an okay; you are still coming down from an orgasm that makes your legs go numb. Your limbs go numb with pleasure, all senses focusing in the center of your body where Yoongi quickly pulls down his pants and crawls onto you like a shadow parasite. That's how you know the animal is deeply in love with you: it slides his dick inside gently, swiftly, and lets Yoongi moan into your shoulder, which immediately activates your protective instincts. He fucks you long and tender, fast, and slow; he has a habit of clenching his cock at the base so that he doesn't come too early even though you'd prefer him to sometimes.

Yoongi has a habit of pressing his lips together to form a straight line which makes him look like a frog. When he studies, he becomes deaf to the phone calls. He walks, putting his legs too wide, because his balls are too big. He washes twice a day, keeping clean, and never fails to mention how you are just a step away from clinically disgusting because - oh, the horror - you shower only in the evening, before bed.

He loves you; there is not a single doubt in your mind about that; albeit in his own lunatic way. It's the love that smothers you in the morning when he is clingy from sleep and follows you around the apartment like a puppy, his hands roaming from the top of your neck to the undersides of your knees. He doesn't give you any pet names, preferring to repeat your actual name like it's his prayer. You hear the tone that creeps into the normal interactions, even when he just calls you for something.

You get to move his hair away from the eyes, and he gradually gains the habit of brushing the bangs to the sides. His eyes are now open to the world; just about anybody can look into them when you are out in the street. Yoongi doesn't need to order parcels at your address and attract your attention by starting petty fights about nothing, anymore. You are all his. Every time he calls, you struggle to say no, because you drown in him, too. You, you don't have to call at all.

Sometimes he just turns up on the doorstep like a genie, like he feels you need him.

He is - what do they say - simply too good to be true.

─────────────── ✧

In the summer, he has time to work like he always does, and be at your side. Like a guardian. Like a security. When walking along the road, he pushes you to the other side on the pavement, away from the cars. Shielding, hiding you. When you tell Yoongi his care is overbearing, that you don't need him to accompany you everywhere, he gaslights.

Yoongi is lounging on your bed with the polaroid album in his hands. His hair is growing out; you had noticed with a surprise that it has a slight wave. It's incredibly cute. The roots are dark: he has an appointment next week with the hairdresser who is going to turn him back into the immaculate snowball. You call him snowball head, and he rages about it, weirdly, like it's an insult. You break your brain to understand what exactly about it he finds so irritating. So you call him that often.

"Snowball head", you coo from your desk. You look at him. Yoongi has already redirected his gaze from the pictures to you, staring through the opening in the Ikea cubicle shelf. His eyes are dark like when he is about to snap.

"Although the snow is dirty, huh?" you chuckle, "I need to go to the store".

"You're not going anywhere", he taps on the page of the album with his index finger. His nails always clean and short, digging into the skin. Otherwise he'd make a mess.

"Until you tell me about these people".

He wants to know your past relationships and the present. And maybe even the future. You found that indulging his bursts of possessiveness with condescension is easier than arguing. Yoongi is not dumb; he knows he behaves like a maniac sometimes. Grabbing your wrist when you say hi to people. Asking about every single face in the pictures.

You leave the chair and stroll towards the bed, painfully slowly. Every time he is in horizontal, something in the dark, meaty depths of your brain commands you to get excited. No matter what he does; no matter how he acts; the picture of Yoongi's long legs on the blanket and his dishevelled white-grey hair on your pillow is an order. Maybe you are broken, too. By the time you settle yourself next to him, pushing the elbow into the blanket next to his rib, you almost forget what he wanted to ask.

"Who's that?"

"My classmate. We wedded in second grade", you look up at his jaw next to your face. "In the girls' toilet, with pom-pom thread rings".

"Ever got divorced?"

When you clearly try to rile him up, he usually plays along. The slant of his eyes is irresistible: the upper lid ending too low, making him look like a cat, inner corner like an elegant stroke of a brush. And he knows it. Sometimes Yoongi just lets you stare at him and keeps quiet.

"No".

You watch him unravel slowly, under the surface. The submarine made of hell, fire, passion and blood just below the still water. A slow smile creeps onto your face as you drop your head on his shoulder.

"Where is he?" he asks suddenly. Your brows fly up.

"No idea. Haven't seen him since school".

Yoongi blinks once, a little too hard, and flips the page of the photo album. His silence feels like old crusty paint that scrubs against the fingers. He bites his lower lip musingly.

"I need to go to the store", you repeat. Yoongi ignores you. He is looking through the album at the people you used to know: childhood friends; university pals he is also acquianted with; past best buddies. He doesn't ask any more questions, and that is worse than him complaining, or interrogating you. He looks like he is updating a file in his head, marking them. You sniff through your nose, pushing yourself off the bed and try to get up to get dressed. The July sun is low; stores will be closing soon.

His hand grabs your elbow quicker than it takes to notice. Pulls you back. You ask yourself why it arouses you rather than irritates. Yoongi finally lets go of the album, throwing it to the side; it slides off the blanket and falls to the floor with a thump. This is the last time you ever see the thing. After this, the album disappears. You know Yoongi took it, in retrospective. You know he presses you down with anger, shoving his tongue inside your mouth like he is searching for traces of unfaithfulness behind your teeth. You know this is not a red flag but a vast poppy field. But it intoxicates you; the sound of his throat as he draws a breath is a fucking melody; you know, if he keeps you home for too long, in the morning he will bring you the groceries you needed, without even asking for the list.

─────────────── ✧

"I don't actually think you're stupid, you know that? I wouldn't be with a stupid person".

You pout angrily.

"Then maybe change up your nicknames for me".

"It's not nicknames", Yoongi is trying to make peace. His freshly dyed and cut hair is shining in the kitchen; short strands on top stand up, unburshed. The romantic wave is gone. You try to push the stubborn strands down, but this discoloured hair is more like plastic now. Yoongi drags the spoon inside the plate, no doubt to irritate you further, gathering chunks of egg.

"Why do you get to piss me off, but I don't?"

You stare at him in sincere awe.

"I piss you off? When do I ever piss you off?"

He rolls his lazy morning eyes. Lopsided mouth chews, opening and closing. His lips are raw pink.

"You know".

You hold yourself against the table, invested no to end.

"I don't".

"Call me snowball head".

"I never got what's so offensive about it".

"I just don't like it; and when you pull me by the hair; and you keep doing that".

He drops his head, focused on egg again. Your hand can't help itself; it gets into his hair once again to see the reaction. It never occurs to you that maybe you are imperfect, too. Yoongi just sighs, his slender shoulders looking paler now that the hair is white, and the tee he is wearing is also white.

"That is such a strange thing to be pissed about".

"You're a strange thing", he hoots.

"No, you".

"No you".

You look at your phone to check the time, and get distracted. Meant to see how long he has before he needs to leave for work. You, you get free summers. Because Yoongi.

"What is it?" he asks after a while. His eyes now awake. He looks from above the table, across the tiny kitchen, focused like he is about to jump. You huff and throw the phone on the counter.

"28 Years Later dropped, I was reading comments".

"Really?"

"Oh, of course not. I am lying to you, I was texting other guys".

The emotional tone change is exhausting. It happens with him about seven times a day. It's draining. Yoongi tenses his jaw muscles, spoon near his mouth.

"An hour after waking up, already in the mood, huh?"

Your eyes bulge with indignation.

"And who ruined it!!!" you almost yell. Yoongi knows how to push and pull. He has a built-in barometer inside his skin. He gets up from the table and walks over to you, and you deem it your duty to fight him off a little. You can never encourage this. You can never resist him when he puts his hands on both sides of your waist. But not before swiping your phone off the counter and looking through it.

"Honestly this is humiliating", you complain, calmer. Trying to get to him. There's faint stubble on the tip of his chin giving away the fact that he is a full twenty-three year old man.

"I don't distrust you", he booms quietly. One hand grounding you to the place, firmly, but non-aggressively. It's always him acting like he has to help you come to your senses. Like he isn't the one who needs his brains tweaked.

"Just everybody else".

"So that means you distrust my intellect".

"You are naive. People flirt with you and don't even notice".

"I notice, I just don't care".

You lower your face to try and look into his. He is finally satisfied, his finger working the display of your phone. Quickly changing apps, he is checking every single page at the speed of an AI bot.

"I do".

"Why?"

Yoongi's arm tenses a little, blue veins on the forearm shooting through the flesh, as he pulls you closer. It's trusting. The space in between is such a good place; you just wish he saw that, too. The morning bliss is still there, in the tickling kiss he places on your cheek.

"Because you are mine".

The kiss turns into a soft bite. It's not the first time you suspect Yoongi would, in fact, eat you, if only it wouldn't mean your death.

This is the day when his delusion allows him to think that telling you he had installed a camera in your kitchen would be a good idea.

In an ugly twist of irony the empty pan on working stove had brought you together and then separated you.

You forget to turn it off after you drain the water from the pan.

Twenty minutes later, you get a message on your phone:

"pasta's about to burn"

It makes zero sense to you so at first you ignore it. Yoongi texts again:

"y/n, turn off the stove"

Once you are shaken back into reality, you do start smelling the smoke.

It is a double flinch: first, a the closely avoided tragedy.

Second, at the realization.

You walk into the kitchen and push the pan away, turning the handle. Then you freeze, in the empty space that is now filled with the ghost of Yoongi.

Simplistic questions seem dumb to ask, but you cannot override them.

"how did you know?"

This is why he calls you a dummy sometimes. You know. You just stall endlessly, never wanting to believe what your brain is computing. Always hoping Yoongi would have a different explanation.

"that's why i put it in your home" "put what?" "you won't find it 😊"

You retreat from the kitchen, and he texts:

"nooo don't go"

You collapse onto the chair in your bedroom, and your head snaps to the sides.

Yoongi is a spider with eight eyes.

Finally, the wake up call rings in your ears with the sound of an ambulance siren. He. Put. A camera. Into your kitchen.

Is he watching from the phone? His working computer? Is he even at work?

You throw the phone of your desk and jump up, walking around the bedroom. Your eyes scan the space; for some reason you are drawn to the window, so you stand on your tiptoes to feel through the curtains, unsure of what you are doing. The phone keeps buzzing on the desk. You hit your laptop shut, seeing the small black eye of the web camera staring back at you.

"cold" "colder" "there aren't any in your bedroom, only the laptop" "wait you mad?"

Your throat throbs with the emotion you couldn't describe even if you had a thesaurus at your disposal.

"are you insane? yoongi are you insane?" "dont b dramatic" "YOU ARE LITERALLY INSANE"

... "and whose fault is that?"

After you do not reply for a while, he clearly gets nervous. He simply underestimates the implications of what he's done.

"you can't even walk into a room on the first try, always keep bumping into shit you expect me to just leave you for a whole day and hope you don't kill yourself?"

For the first time in the whole while you've known him, dated him, kept him in your apartment, you start sobering up. You can't even find the camera. You walk back into the kitchen with shame, like it's you who has done the crazy thing, and start going centimeter by centimeter while Yoongi is spamming you on the phone. You can't find the fucking camera. It's either very small, or he is, in fact, a demon who penetrates your place in spectral form and watches you, invisibly, sitting on your ceiling.

You raise your face to it and stare into the white, feeling yourself go insane, too.

In thirty minutes, he is at the door. Banging, threatening, yelling. Pleading. Your name comes out of his mouth like a prayer. Like it's something you can almost taste. Something that he can eat forever. For a while, a long while, you do not feel attracted to him at all.

You do not let him inside the apartment, rather, stepping out bare footed, and hit him in the chest with your fists sideways, and he blames you for being literally the most performative bitch in the universe. He doesn't get the concept of personal space. There is no personal space: just you and his unwavering love.

There are no tears. It's not a tragic story. There's terror: you make him tell you where he hid the camera: it's tucked right under the window sill, in between two wires of your UV light lamp for the plants. The plants that you had been forgetting to water and that didn't die. Because Yoongi had been entering your place when you weren't there, and took care of them.

He has been everywhere in the creases of your existence, not only in between your legs; he wanted to fill your universe to the brim, so that you wouldn't see anything else.

"A hundred per cent of my life is you", he hammers, the edge of his jaw burning pink after your nails dragged along it. A failed slap on the face, turned scratching.

"Do you realize that?"

"You need help", you beg, crouching your fingers in horror. Trying to put some distance in between you.

"What I need to do, I think", he muses, "is to get you pregnant".

It's him thinking out loud. His eyes crawl up to the ceiling. Your feet go cold on the bare stone of the staircase cubicle. You step one foot, then the other, and it doesn't escape his attention.

His words make you want to sneak back into the flat and lock the door, but he knows the code. He punches it himself most of the time, when he doesn't feel like waiting for you to get the door. There's nowhere to run from him. The serpent brain peeks through his pale skin. Snowball head wants to tie you to himself with something unbreakeable. You step back.

"No, Yoongi, no-"

"I won't force you, just saying. You won't have to work anyway. I'll get a better job in no time".

And you know he means it. He is the first in his class. He is going for the highest marks. Several architectural companies already want him for apprenticeship after his graduation. He is a machine. He has all ends in his hands. And now you know: he is doing it for you.

"You don't get it, do you?" you whisper, "We're over. I am breaking up with you".

"We weren't dating", he replies, deadpan. You see he doesn't take it seriously. His neck crooks slightly, like he is studying you for the first time.

"You can't break up with me".

"I'll call the police", you utter, and he smiles. His small, square teeth click against each other, showing salmon-pink gums. Yoongi fills the whole space, a sixty-two kilogram guy with the sharp collarbones from forgetting to eat anything except your pussy, for days.

"You'll call the police? What are you, a stalking victim?" he grins wider with sincere disbelief. The raised eyebrows indicate he isn't mocking you.

You cling onto the door, and he steps to you, making you tense your body like a spring. His slow, black eyes look you up and down, then he puts his warm hand on top of your palm.

"We love each other. Or you don't think so?"

"This is not love", you mutter. You see his face like it's the first time: nose too wide. Tired eyes. Chapped lips. You saw it before. But now it's without the bright-pink tint of desire.

"It's mental disorder".

"Really? And what's so bad about this mental disorder? Do you not like it?"

"You really don't understand what's so wrong about watching me when I am alone", you gulp, almost hysterically, "going through my phone and stealing my things?"

"For every thing I steal, I put one extra back", he says quietly. "How are you planning to be without me, if you haven't restocked your own bath products in six months?"

The icicle slides down your spine. Without thinking what the fuck you're doing, out of sheer fear, you pull the door to yourself with all the might you have.

Yoongi produces a short grunt of pain; he has a strange relationship with it. He is barely human; his fingers that he uses to draw blueprints of flower-shaped buildings are caught in between the doorframe and the door for a second, but he is quick like a feline. You can hear him choke a little, then hum, like you simply kicked him in the thigh.

"You and me", he hoots from behind the door, shuffling. Perhaps he is jumping in place not to scream louder.

"This is not a normal thing. You act like I've crossed some boundaries when there were none. Y/N!"

A thunderous bang on the door. You run into the bedroom and try to swipe your phone. Your hands are shaking, and it falls to the floor, pushed away. You get to your knees and hit your head on the underside of the desk, barely feeling it.

You call the police, hearing only your own panting breathing. Yoongi's muffled voice goes,

"We are meant to be, Y/N!"

You have no idea what happened to his hand.

You change apartments.

You change the phone number.

You block him everywhere and check with Namjoon, telling the dude everything.

Yoongi doesn't follow you around the city and doesn't hunt your new address; he doesn't show up at the coffeeshops where you meet with friends, and doesn't pick you up from the studies.

But his presence is heavy like toxic smoke; you hear his breathing in the dead of night, picturing the snowy white silhouette shining in the blue blackness of night.

You still want him. When you want him really bad, you still do not allow yourself to unblock and text him. You know Yoongi will one day put you into the fucking basement.

When you want him really, really bad, remembering the softness of his hands, the eager need of his hips, the piercing stare of his perfectly-shaped eyes, the pale, smooth skin on his soft stomach, you put your hand in between your legs. It's safer. You hope he isn't sitting on your ceiling in those moments, watching you miss him.

He is like a dirty curse, like an ugly STD you know people will judge you for. The new apartment on the other side of the city still somehow bears his smell.

The insidious freedom you get on the first try feels like a fever dream. You fail to catch the dead finality to his words.

It's hot outside. You know this because a servant who had to retrieve something from the outside comes back in with a flushed face and sweat beading around his forehead. The air inside is cranked up high and you wonder briefly if there's a heatwave passing by. You're glad you did what you had to do in the garden the previous two days so you don't have to be outside now. Instead you're cleaning Hyung-Won's study. There's no other maid or servant to accompany you so you're alone as you wipe the shelves that line the walls. You don't mind it though. You're left alone with your thoughts. Thoughts need to be had as you flit about the room.

Today Hoseok expected an answer from you. After last night's talk you were left a mess with nerves. You hardly slept and pressed 'snooze' on your alarm to try and get some more rest in. It's when it went off for the second time and you debated if starting your day late was worth it before you came to the conclusion that no it wasn't.

After such a restless night you came up with an answer to your predicament Hoseok left you in. You thought it best if you deny him. The two of you barely know each other and there was the issue with your position as a maid and he a Lord. Not to mention Hyun-Woo. Despite how annoyed you are by the man's jealous ways you respect him as your Master. Maybe a little too much.

You don't know how Hoseok will feel towards your answer. You have yet to see him as you've been so busy with work and he hasn't made an effort to find you either. You're actually glad he hasn't because it gives you more time to yourself and away from whatever headaches may come your way.

Most of your time is spent cleaning your other Master's study as it's rather large. Larger than Hyun-Woo's but slightly smaller than Hyun-Sik's. Normally there would be more than one of you cleaning together but Ji-Woon thought it best that you worked alone for the day. You don't know why and have half a mind to ask him when given the chance. For now though it's just you alone.

By the time you're done cleaning it's well past noon. You think back on what you've done so far and know what your next step is. You need to clean Hyun-Woo's room. Even if you didn't want to see the man you didn't have a choice in the matter when you were assigned such a usual task of yours. It's always you and another maid, Claire, who cleans his room. Sometimes together but most of the time alone and seeing as Ji-Woon assigned you to do tasks alone for the day you suspect it'll just be you again. Save for Hyun-Woo who will more than likely stick around if he knows you're coming.

You're before your Master's door where you bring your hand up to lightly rap against the wood. It's a groggy "Come in" that welcomes you in. You flick the light on in his bedroom and are surprised to see he's still in bed. You check your watch and figured he'd be up by now but the sleepy look in his eyes says otherwise.

He's wrapped in his blankets and watches you as you bow before making your way across the room. Your hand carries the stuff you need to clean before you place it down near his dresser. There's hardly any dust you can see but the help never waits until it's dirty to clean. You do as you must when it's time to prevent a mess before it can start.

Like in his brother's study you're silent as you clean. Despite having a large room Hyun-Woo doesn't have many things. Choosing instead to have a minimalistic view unlike say Hyun-Sik who gorges himself on all things pretty and new. You're glad you don't have to clean his room alone otherwise it would be an endless chore.

Hyun-Woo stares at you while you work. You know this because you sense his eyes as they trail over your form. He usually watches you while you work. It was unnerving at first but now you're used to it. Somewhat.

You can see from the corner of your eye the way he stretches with a groan before he goes back to watching you in silence. Your attention is drawn to him for a moment and your eyes lock when they meet. His eyes are still heavy with sleep and he has to fight to keep them open. A soft smile plays on your lips at the sight of it. You can't help but feel endeared towards him sometimes.

Hyun-Woo yawns before patting the opposite side of his bed. "Join me?" Despite being posed as a question you know it's more of a demand.

You set the cleaner and rag you'd been using down and make your way over to him. His eyes sleepily track your movement and they fill with mirth when you sit on the bed.

He pats your thigh before wiggling himself over to lay his head on your lap where your fingers begin to card through his hair just the way he likes. He hums at the feeling and closes his eyes.

It's quiet for a moment as your fingers work to massage his scalp. The weight of his head grows heavy as he relaxes under your touch. It's not the first time you've done this but it's been a while since he had you join him in bed for it. He's told you before how his mother used to scratch his head whenever he felt stressed. The feel of her fingers would relax him and so now yours do too. You wonder what might have made him stressed enough to want to do this again but you choose to remain quiet instead.

You can feel the way his right hand squeezes around your knee and you look over to see his eyes are open again.

"Is everything okay?"

Your question goes unanswered for a moment. Him choosing to remain silent before he lightly squeezes your knee again.

He hums. "Didn't sleep well."

"Mm. That makes two of us."

Hyun-Woo looks up at you. His eyes trace over your face taking in every little detail.

"Why couldn't you?"

His question is harmless but your thoughts are not. You know you couldn't tell him the reason behind why you had a hard time sleeping. You did well to wash away any lingering scents left behind from Hoseok so Hyun-Woo is none the wiser. He's peaceful right now and you want to keep it that way. So you shrug instead in response.

"Just cause."

Hyun-Woo hums again. His hand comes up to caress your face and it forces your own fingers to pause in their movements.

The sleep from his eyes begins to dissipate and he starts to look more alert as his fingers softly brush along your cheekbone and down to your neck. He repeats the movement several times more before he drops his hand by his side. His eyes lock on your lips and he watches the way your tongue peeks out to wet the petals. Something swirls in his eyes you can't quite decipher and you choose to resume your massage on his scalp as a way to distract yourself.

"I'm sorry." Hyun-Woo starts off. "You know that, right?"

Your brows furrow in confusion. "For?"

"For the other night." His face pinches into a frown at the memory.

Your fingers pause in their movements as your heart skips a beat. You go to clear your throat but it's more to do with how awkward you feel rather than it bothering you.

Hyun-Woo senses your change of mood and he goes to sit up. He turns in his spot to face you a worried look marring his face. His lips part to speak but you beat him to it.

"I know you are." You're surprised at how strong you sound despite how nervous the memory made you feel. "But there's no point in bringing up the past."

"I know I just," he pauses. "I hate myself for doing that to you."

His hands reach for your own stiff ones. He squeezes them between his large ones and you're starting to feel suffocated as he encroaches on your space. You move your face to the side as he draws his own closer to yours.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I mean it. You mean more to me than you probably realize and I really do hate myself for putting you through that."

You look over to him to see how he stares at you like you're a skittish rabbit ready to run. His close proximity unnerves you and you feel yourself pull away slightly from his overbearing presence.

You give a non-committal hum in response unsure if you should use your voice yet lest it shake.

Hyun-Woo's hands squeeze yours tighter. For a moment, your brow twitches as his grip borders on the unbearable side before he relents. You slip your hands from his own and sit back in hopes that he'd give you some space. He says nothing as you place some distance between the two of you and you look his way to see he looks displeased. Whether it's because you haven't said anything or because you're moving away from him - you're not sure.

"I know, Master. I just prefer we don't talk about it anymore."

Hyun-Woo sighs. "Okay." His left hand goes to brush alongside your knee.

You lick your lips with your mouth feeling drier than before. You swallow what little saliva you have left in hopes to moisten your throat. You go to swallow again then clear your throat to dissipate the tension in the air.

You really didn't want to talk about this. You don't know what it is that made him want to bring it up besides guilt. Previously believing this was behind the two of you after you dismissed the situation by making him admit that it wasn't him who did this to you. That he wasn't of sane mind but you didn't take into consideration that he might still feel some type of way about it all. As much you know you should hear him out a large part of you just wants to forget it ever happened.

Looking up his way you give a tentative smile before it stretches into a more genuine one. He doesn't react at first, only watching you in a calculating manner but then his lips stretch into a smile of his own. It's timid and barely reaches his eyes.

Hyun-Woo leans over a bit into your space again as he stares at you. His smile slowly falls until a serious expression overtakes his features. It's an unreadable one you're face to face with and it forces your own smile to fall.

You feel something touch your fingers before it's engulfed by Hyun-Woo's hand. He holds the limb tightly in his own as his eyes roam over your face. You steadily grow uncomfortable under his undivided attention. One would think you'd actually be used to it by now with how much he always stares at you but that's not always the case. You can feel the way your blood rushes up to the surface of your skin with a warm blush in response to it all.

Clearing your throat, you look over to your cleaning supplies.

"I should get back to work." The words leave you in a hushed whisper.

Hyun-Woo sighs and at first you think that's all you're going to get out of him before his lips part. "I guess you're right." His grip on your hand tightens by a fraction before he releases it and let's you scurry off to go clean.

You resume where you left off. Continuing on as if you'd never been interrupted in the first place. You can still feel his touch on your hand even the caress on your face and it sends a shiver up your spine. It's visible you know because Hyun-Woo let's out an amused snort in response.

Your Master chooses then to sit back against his headboard so he can continue to watch you.

"What are your tasks today?"

You look at Hyun-Woo before spraying the vanity before you. "After here I have to dust the east wing halls."

"Hm. Upstairs and downstairs?"

"Yes."

"Have someone else do it. I want you in attendance for tonight's dinner."

Your hands come to a stop. He wanted you to wait on him again? You slowly start to shake your head.

"I can't do that again."

Hyun-Woo's brow raises in question. "Why not?"

You huff. "I just - I don't want..." You're having a hard time getting the words out. I don't want you to humiliate me like that again is what you want to say. The way he had you lick the wine off his hand like you were a dog - you're growing flustered just thinking about it. Not to mention Hoseok will be there and you feel like you can't trust him to stay quiet on the fact that you two met last night when you were forbidden to. You attending the dinner as help again spells disaster.

You try to find a way how to voice this without revealing too much and without disrespecting him on top of it all.

"With all due respect Master but I just don't think it's a good idea. I'm not well trained for it plus," you pause. You debate in whether you should mention Hoseok. You know he's not going to like it but you needed to try and convince the man otherwise. "Plus, Lord Hoseok will be in attendance I'm sure and I don't-" You're interrupted by a loud groan and a roll to your Master's eyes.

"Why do you have to mention him? Don't ruin my mood, Y/N."

"I'm just saying." You shrug. "Forgive me for what I'm about to say next but he clearly doesn't respect you Master with the way things ended last night." You inwardly cringe at your words.

You actually feel bad after speaking ill on Hoseok that way. Though you're not entirely wrong it doesn't feel right to talk about him in a negative way. Especially when he's been nothing but nice to you.

Hyun-Woo watches you in silence. He looks skeptical but you know your words struck a chord within him if the purse to his lips says anything about it.

He inhales and exhales deeply before nodding softly. "You're right."

He said you were right? Your brows raise in small surprise that he's agreeing with you.

Hyun-Woo nods again. "You are right but I still would prefer it that you spend the night with me so you will be in attendance."

You deflate slightly at how resolute he looks at his behest. Your bottom lip becomes trapped between your teeth as you worry the flesh.

This didn't go as you had hoped it would. Then again did anything ever go according to plan for you whenever Hyun-Woo was involved? No, you're sure you can say. It has not.

You sigh with a purposive nod. Your words are soft as you speak them "Yes, Master."

Hyun-Woo watches you and takes in your reaction. If he knows why you're acting this way he doesn't voice it and you're glad he doesn't. Choosing instead to eye the way you move about his room as you continue to clean. Now you could only hope Hoseok doesn't put you in a position when the time comes in front of your Master.

You're about halfway done in cleaning his room. It doesn't take very long to do so seeing as he lacks a lot of furnishing. Hyun-Woo hasn't said a word as he eyes you silently. It's when you go to his bathroom does he get up to follow you. You feel a little awkward about this but he does this every time. Creeping around to watch you work. You don't know if it's because he finds it entertaining to watch you clean or what.

Hyun-Woo leans himself against the door frame as you begin wiping down his sink. There's a residue of something on the side of it and you scrub away. It looks like it's in the shape of a handprint. You give pause before cleaning it. It doesn't clear up at first but eventually it goes away. You don't question it so you continue your chore.

Going over to his toilet you pass by his hamper. For some reason or another you look over to it and see a bloody sheet. You stop for a moment and stare at it. It wasn't a lot but enough to bring a wave of concern over you. You reach for it knowing you have to take care of his laundry as well but stop when you feel Hyun-Woo press his body against you from behind. His arms wrap around your middle as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. You can feel the way his lips ghosts across your skin. So delicately that it brings a shiver up your spine. Goosebumps break out across your skin underneath your uniform. He leaves an open mouth kiss on your neck and it's then that you finally find your voice.

"What happened?" You know he knows what you're referring to. He stopped you from grabbing the sheet for a reason.

He hums and at first that's all you thought you would get before he timidly begins to speak. "Frenzy feeding."

Your brows raise in surprise of this. "Again?" He was frenzy feeding again? So soon? He just had one that night he nearly attacked you and now last night too?

"What's going on, Master?"

His grip on you grows tighter. It's like he's afraid to speak up and tell the truth.

What was happening to him? What was triggering his frenzy almost every night now?

He sighs before loosening his grip. "It's nothing you should worry about?"

You turn around in his hold to stare directly at him. "I'm worried about you. Tell me, please." You plead.

Hyun-Woo's head draws closer to your own before he lays his forehead against yours. He pulls you closer against his body and it's then you start to grow uncomfortable.

Why he does this every time you don't know. Always wanting to be pressed up against you in intimate ways. You chalk that up to the fact that his opinion of you changed after that night he caught you masturbating. You figure it's because he wants more than just a professional relationship with you after the fact but it doesn't change how awkward you feel about it.

Hyun-Woo goes to lean his head to the side to place a kiss against your cheek. He places another one lower against your jaw before he nips at it with his teeth. It's then you grow rigid in his hold and you know he feels this as he sighs in response. He pulls away to stare at you with an unreadable expression. His face is like a mask hiding his emotions. He sighs again before pulling away slightly.

"I've just been stressed," he says.

Stressed from what, you think. You wonder what could possibly have him so stressed that his frenzy is being triggered. You purse your lips in thought.

Hyun-Woo smiles no doubt knowing your mind is going wild with thoughts and possibility after possibility of what could have him so stressed. He places a finger against your lips as they slowly turn into a pout. He runs his finger over the petals before pulling away altogether.

"Like I said, it's nothing you should worry about. I'm sure things will get better in due time. For now though it is what it is."

You hate how resolute he sounds but know if he's dropping a topic of conversation like this it means enough. No more questions and concerns. You sigh and he smiles in response.

"Before anything clean the shower first. I want to wash up to start my day."

"But then I have to clean the toilet and take out your laundry."

"It's fine. You can watch me shower if you'd like." There's a cheeky smile that takes over his face.

Your eyes roll before you can stop yourself. It causes Hyun-Woo to laugh out loud and you can't help but to smile at the sound.

"Fine I'll clean it first but at least give me a minute to do the other things afterwards."

Hyun-Woo sighs but relents. "Fine okay."

You get back to work, this time going to the shower instead of the laundry basket. You open the glass door and are welcomed inside the spacious shower. You begin to spray the walls and shelves and scrub away at the non-existent dirt. You make sure to get the underside of the shelves well before cleaning the seating that juts out from the wall. You're thorough in what you do and Hyun-Woo loves you for it. You know because of all the times he said it.

You look over your shoulder to look at Hyun-Woo and blush at the sight of him removing his shirt before you. He reveals a hint of abs beneath taut skin and a v line that disappears into his pajama pants. You go to clear your throat as you look back to what you're doing. It's not the first time he's taken his shirt off in front of you but you always run a bit warm in the face when he does.

Straightening yourself out you reach for the shower head to bring it down and turn the shower on. The water splashes out and you take care to not get yourself wet. You wash the residue of the cleaning spray off the shelves and walls including the glass door. After everything is clean you go to turn off the water but stop short when you feel Hyun-Woo press up against you once again. He takes the chance to lean over to adjust the settings of the water until it's nice and warm. Once it is, he takes the shower head and places it back up high above you. You scurry back into him further to avoid getting wet but you still get a little water on you. You make a sound of disapproval - a sharp tsk leaving your mouth.

Hyun-Woo chuckles at the sound before letting you go to hide behind him and away from the splashing water. He turns around then to stare at you as you wipe at your uniform as if it would get the bits of water off of you.

You sigh before going off to clean the toilet. As you're scrubbing at it you feel movement beside you as Hyun-Woo goes to remove his pants.

"Seriously? Can you wait just one moment before you go to undress?" Though the words come out of you harshly your pout is too cute for Hyun-Woo not to point out with a pout of his own.

"Then don't look if it bothers you. Or do. Whatever it is you want but I want to shower now."

You say nothing more but your discomfort shows. Your expression is loud and your body grows stiff. If Hyun-Woo notices he doesn't say but his sigh is clear.

Instead of him putting on a show to remove his pajama pants again he walks over to the doorway where he waits for you to finish impatiently. You send a grateful look his way and his sour expression smooths into a more pleasant one.

As you turn around to continue scrubbing the toilet Hyun-Woo speaks up.

"What did you do last night? After I left?"

You mean after you angrily stepped away from me, you want to say but your mouth stays shut from that.

"I went to wash my uniforms."

"That's all?"

Well you weren't wrong. That's exactly what you did. Of course you went to see Hoseok but you weren't about to say that as well.

You turn your head in his direction as you flush the toilet. "Yeah. That's all."

Hyun-Woo's brows draw together as he reads your face. You try and steady your breathing and in turn your beating heart to avoid any suspicions. You don't want to slip by growing nervous under his scrutinizing gaze.

He watches you for a bit more before looking off to the side in that cold indifference of a look he often has when he tries to act like he doesn't care.

You go back to the toilet to wipe the outside of it down and sooner rather than later you find yourself done. Your next step is to clean his floors but like a petulant child Hyun-Woo stomps in his spot claiming he wants to shower. You roll your eyes in response with a "Fine." Instead, you go to his laundry basket and take it with you.

You go to try and leave the bathroom but Hyun-Woo blocks your way. You give an exasperated sigh to which he smiles. He leans forward until his face is close to yours - your noses just inches apart. You go to pull back but his hand stops you as he grips your face lightly in his hand. The large limb presses your cheeks in and he watches the way your lips pucker. He stands there watching, staring, unblinking.

For a second you think he moves in a little closer but he pulls back before you can even formulate the idea that he was about to kiss you. He releases you and steps out of the way to allow you to leave.

"Remember what I said."

You tilt your head in confusion.

There's a subtle roll to his eyes. "About dinner. I want you there so have someone else clean the east wing. Tell Ji-Woon. If you don't, I'll hunt you down."

"And do what?"

He steps closer to you before flicking your forehead. "You're too much of a brat, you know? You need to be tamed."

You flinch from the flick and give a pained expression. Small tears forming in your eyes. You pout in his direction but he doesn't coo like he normally would. He looks annoyed but not entirely so. You see a hint of endearment in his eyes as he goes to rub your forehead.

"Go and take care of the laundry. I'll see you when I'm done." He turns away from you and you turn your head away quickly as he goes to remove his pants.

You step out of the bathroom and his room with your cleaning supplies settled in the laundry basket you carry on your hip. You'll drop off the cleaner and brush along with the bucket they originally came in. The rags you used will be washed along with Hyun-Woo's stuff. You look down at the sheets and can see the blood that stares back at you ominously.

Another frenzy feeding, you think to yourself. Your head tilts in concern. He didn't want you worrying about it but how couldn't you? This was unusual for him. He did say he was stressed out but he's been stressed out before and this has never happened. Clearly something else was going on. You wonder if his brothers know about this and if it weren't because it wasn't your place to speak on this, you would tell them. Just to see if they had an idea as to why their middle brother was frenzy feeding more often than he should be.

You'll question Hyun-Woo on it another time and hope he'll listen to your pleas for an answer. As for now you'll go back to your chores.

After dropping off the cleaning supplies you go down to the laundry room. It's occupied by two maids whose names you recall to be Saori and Jenna. They both give you a small smile and you in return give a wary one.

You know these two to enjoy gossip and you're sure they've had their fill when it came to you. They wouldn't admit it to your face that they were one of the ones who talked about you behind your back as if the situations you've been in were worthy stories to tell. You leave Hyun-Woo's basket by another that needs to be unloaded and leave before any of them could have the chance to talk to you.

The girls seemed innocent enough with one who was quiet as a mouse for the most part and the other with false innocence that bleeds from her eyes. Especially when she gets caught doing something she shouldn't be doing.

You slow your power walk into a slow one and think now on what else you need to do. Now you'd be getting what you need to clean the east wing but Hyun-Woo demanded you tell Ji-Woon to have someone else do it. You don't want to but know you'll regret it if you don't. The last thing you wanted was to deal with his anger. He seemed to be in a better mood than he was yesterday and you want to keep it that way.

You go off in search of Ji-Woon and guess where he could be. First, you check the west wing to see if he's still around. Nothing around there so you check the first floor of the west wing and still nothing. Next is the east wing and you check to see if anyone else is around that may have seen Ji-Woon. You stop a short maid with round doe eyes and ask her.

Her eyes grow bigger in question as she thinks. "I think he might be in the cellar. I recall hearing in passing Master Hyung-Won wanting Ji-Woon to find a specific wine for tonight's feast."

You thank her and hurry off in the direction of the cellar in hopes you'll get to him before he leaves. It's as you're on your way do you feel something. As if there's a presence nearby watching you. You look over your shoulder but nothing. The feeling goes on long and hard but you can't find a single person that may be watching you. It sends a small chill up your spine as you make your way to Ji-Woon.

You're in the kitchen now and the feeling stops. You're grateful for it and feel relief. You pass by the maid and servants who are cooking and find the door to the cellar that is open. You hurriedly make your way down the stares into the dark cavern that makes up the cellar and are pleased to see Ji-Woon perusing through the aisles as he searches for a wine bottle.

"Ji-Woon," you call out.

He looks up at his name and frowns when he sees you. You look exhausted you're sure from all the back and forth you had to do and he notices it.

"What are you doing here?"

"I had to find you and tell you I can't do the east wing today. Master Hyun-Woo's orders."

His frown grows deeper. "Does he expect you to be locked up in your room again?" He says this in irritation. As if the thought of you being locked away displeases him.

You shake your head in response. You grow visibly nervous at the idea of what you're about to say next. "He wants me to wait on him again."

Ji-Woon's shoulders draw up with a deep inhale before he exhales it all into a tired sigh. "I don't like this."

Him being so upfront about something isn't unusual to you but to feel a certain way about a Master's orders? Never in a million years has he expressed that.

You sigh. "I don't either. I tried to convince him otherwise but he wouldn't listen."

Ji-Woon shakes his head before he gives a look. An uncomfortable one before looking resolute.

"Has Lord Hoseok bothered you again?"

The question comes out of left field and you're left standing there with your mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"I need to know Y/N. Had he come to bother you again? I need to know because if the Masters must know I will tell them."

You shake your head. "No he hasn't." Your voice is strong as you say this. Confident in your answer.

The two of you cross paths often and you willingly found him last night. You weren't about to mention that so you stay quiet about it.

Ji-Woon watches you as if he can sense the lie you bleed from your person but chooses instead to ignore it. You're grateful for that as he looks at the wall beside him that is lined with different wines. He grabs a bottle and looks at it before nodding to himself. He looks back up at you then shrugs a little.

"Fine then. Finish up whatever it is you were doing then ready yourself by 4 for the the dinner."

You nod with a somewhat grateful smile before stepping out of the large cellar. You're greeted by daylight from the large windows and the smell of wondrous food. It smells delicious and you're hoping you're mood won't sour tonight like last night and you'd be able to enjoy tonight's dinner.

You look down at your watch and see that it's 3:12 PM. You have some time before you'd have to line the walls with the other servants waiting on their Masters. You really don't want to do this but know you have no choice. You tell yourself to suck it up because at this point there was nothing left for you to do.

As you walk the halls you feel that presence again. The hairs on your body stand on end and you can only figure out why. It's unnerving - the feeling of being watched. You look over your shoulder for the nth time and see no one so it is a surprise when you turn back around and nearly bump into Lord Hoseok. You gasp in surprise as he smiles your way.

He chuckles. "Sorry for startling you."

You give a nervous laugh as you look over your shoulder once more. You can't tell anymore if you're being watched with Hoseok before you and you take solace in knowing someone is here with you to ward off any unwanted attention.

You look back at him with a weary smile. Now you grow nervous for a whole other reason. It's exhausting to flit between so many thoughts and emotions and now with Hoseok here you are reminded as to why you couldn't sleep last night.

"Hi, Hoseok." Your voice is soft.

"Hi," he repeats. "How did you sleep last night?"

Should you tell him? You think on it only to decide that you won't. You don't want to make him feel bad even though it is his fault. So you settle for a half truth instead.

"I had a hard time sleeping. Not for a reason or another. I just couldn't."

He eyes you like he knows you're lying. His face morphing into subtle disbelief before his lips turn into his singature heart shaped smile.

"Well I hope you sleep better tonight."

You hum in response.

You both stand there in awkward silence. You know you should say something about the conversation you two had last night. It's obvious he's expecting an answer but you're too afraid to say it. Afraid of how he might act, but you know if you don't you'll just be unnecessarily dragging something that'll surely give you a headache.

You inhale deeply and let the air out softly before you speak. "So I uh..." Your nerves are becoming more apparent as your voice shakes. You clear you throat. "About last night."

Hoseok's eye seem to glimmer beneath the lighting of the hallway chandeliers. His smile starts off small but grows just a tad wider at the mention of last night.

"I wanted to say," you pause again. You try to steel your nerves and berate yourself for being so ridiculously nervous. You sigh before giving a forlorn look. "I'm sorry, Hoseok. I'm sorry but I can't be with you."

It's silent. His smile dies down and his expression morphs into something unreadable.

You swallow deeply before apologizing again in a small voice.

He stands there without moving for what feels like a solid minute before something switches within him and he's suddenly smiling.

"May I ask why?" He questions, but before you can answer he speaks again. "Is it because of him?"

Your nostrils flare with your eyes blinking questionably. Did he mean? Of course he means Hyun-Woo.

You lick your lips before parting them. "Yes but I mean partly. He's part of the reason why. And," you swallow. "And because we barely know each other. Plus, I'm a maid of a separate estate. There's too many problems to come across."

His eyes once shimmering start to dull the more you talk. He purses his lips before speaking aloud his thoughts. "What is Hyun-Woo to you?"

Hoseok completely ignores the rest of your statement and focuses on your Master instead.

"He is my Master," you answer truthfully.

"No. He's something more isn't he?"

You go to shake your head as he continues.

"I see the way he talks to you, looks at you and how possessive he is. There's something more there. Do you reciprocate his feelings towards you?" He looks slightly irritated and it's beginning to worry you.

You shake your head again but vehemently this time. "No it's nothing like that. I don't see him as anything more than my Master. A Master whom I respect dearly. That is all."

You're not lying and you hope he can see that. You don't know why you want him to believe you so bad. It shouldn't matter to him your relationship with other people, but you find yourself trying to convince the vampire before you otherwise.

Hoseok eyes you for a minute with mild disbelief before it settles into something more pleasant. His emotions giving you whiplash.

"I see that you respect him but you shouldn't let that rule your life." He reaches for your hands and holds them in his own. They are soft to the touch as he threads your fingers together. "Y/N."

You look directly into his brown eyes.

"I wasn't kidding when I said I won't give up on you." He brings your hand up and places a chaste kiss on it. "And I meant it when I said you won't regret it."

Your brows furrow a little as his body draws closer to your own. He's encroaching in your space and you're starting to feel uncomfortable.

Hoseok can see the way you're stiffening up but he smiles your way.

"I want to try something with you. If you'll let me." He raises his brow in silent question.

Your lips part and your mouth feels dry. "W-What is it?"

His face leans closer to yours until you can feel the coolness of skin radiating off onto your own warm one.

"Kiss me. That's all I'll ask. Let me convince you this way. If you'll have me."

His face looks pained. As if you denying him is hurting him.

You don't know why but something is compelling you to listen to him. It's something about him that draws your attention and you're listening in. You lick your lips and you want to sigh but can't bring yourself to. And for some reason or another you find yourself nodding.

"Okay." The word leaves you softly.

Without a second to waste he leans in and connects your lips.

The kiss is soft at first. Nothing but something small and simple until they move against yours. You reciprocate and join the movement with your own. Your lips mold together almost perfectly yet it's foreign at the same time. Hoseok's lips are soft as they soon begin to part and it's then you want to pull away. He seems to sense this as his hand once holding yours comes up to the back of your neck and holds you still.

His open mouth kisses try to force your own apart. His tongue coming to slip between your lips. Your brows furrow because this starts to feel wrong as his tongue pushes between the barrier of your lips and teeth until he finds your tongue.

Your hands come up to his chest about to push him away until something happens. Something changes and you feel yourself fall limp in his hold. Your mind grows hazy but it feels nice. You feel high on life. High on Hoseok as your tongue begins to rub against his.

Your hands once about to push him away clasps his shirt and pulls him in closer. You can feel him smirk into the kiss but pay no mind to it. Instead you focus on his tongue and the way it moves against yours. A moan slips from deep within as your body grows warmer beneath your uniform. You don't know what it is about this kiss that makes you feel this way but you seemingly don't care.

Hoseok retracts his tongue and you follow after it. You try to slip your tongue into his mouth but he stops you with a peck on your tongue, your lips, then your nose.

You still feel hazy and desperate to kiss him and it takes you a minute before you start to calm down. Your brain feels like mush and your body is still warm all over. You slur your words a little as you try to speak. What is it that you're trying to say?

You lean your forehead against his chest as you try to regain your senses. It's then you feel Hoseok's chest rumble beneath you as he speaks.

"Do you want more?"

You don't know what he's referring to but you assume it's the kiss. With your eyes shut you nod into him. A need to kiss him again is why you slowly lift your head up and meet his eyes. For some reason he looks different to you but you don't question it. You indulge in the way his smirk has you wanting to melt before him. He has to hold you up to keep you on your feet.

"Do you want me?"

Did you want him? A part of you is questioning hard whether or not you do. It's at the very back of your mind and you feel like the voice deep in your brain is trying to shout something out to you. You can't tell what and so you simply nod.

Hoseok shakes his head at you. "No. I want to hear you say it."

You groan as the fog over your head begins to leave you. You don't want it to. Instead you want to revel in that feeling again. Whatever it was. You want it.

"I want you." The words leave your lips but you feel like you hadn't given permission to yourself to speak. Your mouth running on autopilot.

Hoseok smiles down at you his radiant smile. It's blinding like this with you slowly coming to your senses. It's as you're on the cusp of proper consciousness do you hear him say "Then you have me."

You shake your head to clear it. Bringing a hand up to press against your temple as an incoming headache begins to set in. Hoseok releases you but you feel wobbly on your feet. He has to steady you when you almost tip over to your left. His hands are on your arms and he grips them tightly before easing the pressure.

It's then your head seems to be cleared from whatever haze took over it and your headache steadily begins to grow. It isn't entirely unbearable but it's thrusted upon deep within your temples. You can faintly feel Hoseok's thumbs caress your arms in comfort as he continues to smile an unnerving smile your way. He looks like the cat that ate the canary and you wonder who the canary just might be.

"Y/N!"

Your name is called but the voice is harsh on your senses as they yell.

You look over to the owner and of the voice and freeze. Hyun-Woo stands not far from you and you can tell he's seething. You pull away from Hoseok as your heart skips a beat. It beats painfully against your chest and you stand there unsure of what else to do.

He looks between you and Hoseok before he stomps over and you swear the floors shake beneath your very feet.

"I thought it was serious between us!" Nicholas lamented on the other end of the line. "We were talking about moving in together at the end of the year ! I even helped her pay her rent last month! You can't tell me that wasn't serious!"

Y/N hummed to signal she was still listening, applying the final touches of eyeliner to her makeup. "I was the other man! She was cheating on her boyfriend with me, can you believe it!"

"I'd be tempted to say 'I told you so,' but you don't like that."

"No, I don't like that! Why can't I find a good girl?" The young woman rolled her eyes, closing her lip gloss and grabbing her purse.

"You'll find one eventually. I have to go, so I'm hanging up."

"You're abandoning me when I'm at my lowest?!"

"You'll get over it, like always."

"Where are you going, anyway?"

"I'm meeting Jay and the others to buy a gift for his mom. He needs my 'woman' advice. Keep wallowing in your misery, and I'll bring you your favorite ice cream on my way back." Nicholas muttered under his breath as she hung up. Y/N left her place, taking the bus to the mall.

She and Nicholas had been friends since middle school, their friendship continuing through high school and college. Her best friend had always been successful with girls, especially in college, and he went through girls quickly.

Y/N couldn't believe she'd had a crush on him in high school when he changed girlfriends every week. But he was still her best friend, so she turned a blind eye to his behavior.

Y/N joined her friends at a Prada store, Jay was already looking at women's clothing, with Sunghoon and Jake bickering in the back. She nodded to the saleswomen before approaching them.

"The ladies are literally deciding whether to kick you out for noise or not," she said. "You're worse than children!" They turned to her, and Jay hugged her, a smile stretching his lips.

"Thank you for coming, I couldn't have handled being alone with these idiots for another second."

"Who are you calling an idiot?" Sunghoon protested. He rolled his eyes and hugged Y/N, who then stepped toward Jake, whose cheeks were slightly flushed. Sunghoon and Jay exchanged smirks, knowing their friend's crush on the young woman.

"Hey, Jakey."

"Hi." Jake patted her back and stepped back slightly. "You look very pretty today."

"Only today?" Y/N teased, a mischievous smile stretching her lips. Jake stammered that wasn't what he meant, making her giggle. "Alright, Jay, any ideas for a gift?"

"Not really, that's why I called you." Y/N nodded, moving between the aisles, looking at the clothes. She had met Mrs. Park many times, almost being considered their adoptive daughter, so she knew the woman's tastes.

The young men followed her like lost puppies, grabbing the clothes off hangers as she handed them, thinking aloud about what might please Mrs. Park. The saleswomen held back snickers, seeing the pleading looks of the boys, who had finally shut up.

"Well, I think you can take the dress, the vest, and the shoes. That'll be a perfect outfit for their wedding anniversary with your father next month."

"Y/N-nie, you're my savior," Jay sighed, placing a kiss on her cheek. She rolled her eyes and handed him the clothes for him to go pay.

Prada bags in hand, they then took a break at a café to recharge after that afternoon of shopping. Y/N sipped her matcha, glancing at her phone where a message from Nicholas appeared, complaining about his life.

"Who's making you make that face?" Sunghoon asked, having seen her grimace.

"Just Nico. He just got dumped by his latest fling, so I'm once again getting his lamentations about his poor life."

"Again? Wasn't he with another girl last weekend?"

"No idea. I've stopped counting. Except this time, the girl was cheating on her boyfriend with Nico, so he's sulking."

"He should pay you for playing his therapist so often," Jake joked. Y/N nodded with a laugh, placing her hand on his arm in agreement.

"Y/N, are you still coming to the ski weekend?" Jay asked.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Who's coming already?"

"Heeseung and his girlfriend Sasha, us four, Jungwon and Kat, Sunoo and Ni-ki, Kei, EJ, and Ta-ki. Just tell Nico to bring his ass and stop complaining. The mountain air might give him some insight into his love life."

"We can always dream," she mocked. "But I'll tell him."

Y/N enjoyed the afternoon with her friends before heading to Nicholas's apartment. Having stopped to get a tub of his favorite ice cream on the way, she knocked on the door, her friend opened it in despair.

"Y/N, why can't I find a girlfriend?!"

"Because you're pathetic." He pressed a hand to his heart, feigning hurt, and grabbed the plastic bag she handed him, walking around her to enter the apartment.

The young man closed the door and ran after her as she settled on the couch, grabbing the remote to start the show she was currently watching. He collapsed beside her, opening the ice cream tub and plunging his spoon into it.

"I'm such a loser…"

"At least you're right about one thing."

"Y/N! You're supposed to support me, not bring me down further!"

"Well, did you guys ever explicitly agree to being more than friends in the first place? Because you always talk about these girls, but none of them are really your girlfriend." Nicholas didn't answer, giving her an implicit response to the situation he had put himself in.

"Yeah, that sucks… Well, you can be my girlfriend."

"Right!" she laughed. "No, thank you."

"Why?! You used to like me back in high school, remember?" He nudged her with a sideways smile.

"Yes, that was before I discovered your depraved side with women," Y/N retorted, pushing him away by smacking her hand over his face. "Besides, you explicitly told me I wasn't your type."

Nicholas sighed, collapsing onto her with his head on her lap. "Did you find a gift for Jay's mom?"

"Yeah, Sunghoon and Jake weren't really useful anyway."

"Sunghoon and Jake? They were there?"

"Well, yes. But it was nice."

"Glad you had fun while I was going through a breakup…" She looked down at him, an eyebrow raised.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly. "Isn't Jake the one you went out with the other night?"

"It wasn't a date. He was the only one with a car to help me assemble my new furniture, I just thanked him with a meal."

"Yeah, right…"

"Oh! So you can have hundreds of dates and then play the victim afterward, but I can't even enjoy a single evening?" Irritated, Y/N pushed him away and stood up, going to get her bag. Nicholas jumped to his feet to catch her.

"Wait! I'm sorry, that's not what I meant."

"Yeah, well, you're always in a foul mood after your 'breakups.' Jay invited you to the ski weekend, so you'd better enjoy the mountain air and think about what you really want. See you tomorrow, departure at 10 a.m."

Nicholas let her leave, watching the door close behind her. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and went back to sit on the couch, staring at the ceiling. What did he really want?

The next day, the group of friends met at a parking lot to all leave together for Jay's parents' chalet near a ski resort. The winter air let clouds of steam escape with each exhale.

"We have three hours of driving ahead of us, so choose your cars wisely so you're not stuck with deplorable karaoke," Jay mocked, eyeing the girls. Sasha and Kat got into one of the cars with their boyfriends, while Y/N got into the front of Jake's car, smiling at him.

"Can I be your co-pilot?"

"I'd be honored," he smiled, the tops of his cheekbones red. "Especially since Sunghoon has no sense of direction." Sitting behind him, his friend kicked the seat to express his displeasure.

Sunoo slipped into the middle of the back seat, Nicholas taking the last spot. Jake and Kei driving their cars followed Jay's, which was leading. The city quickly faded away, giving way to the snowy countryside.

It had snowed the day before, covering the landscape with a white layer that would surely be thicker once they reached the mountains. Sunoo dozed on Sunghoon's shoulder, who was scrolling on his phone, Nicholas stared at Y/N's seat in front of him.

She was chatting with Jake, who looked at her occasionally before focusing on the road, laughing at what he said. The young woman's words had been running through his mind since the day before, leaving him more confused than enlightened.

Gradually, the city turned into countryside, then was replaced by mountain landscapes. The snow covered everything, forming a magnificent white mantle reflecting the sun's rays.

The three cars parked in front of Jay's parents' chalet, the road having been cleared before their arrival. Bundled up in their coats, they quickly entered the house to warm up. A gentle warmth emanated from the chalet, immediately stopping their shivering.

"Okay! Let's assign rooms," Jay declared. "Hee and Sasha, and Jungwon and Kat together, obviously. Ni-ki and Ta-ki together. Sunoo and Sunghoon, hoping they don't kill each other, me and Kei, Nicholas with EJ, and Jake with Y/N. Did I forget anyone?"

"Why do I have to be with Sunghoon hyung?" Sunoo lamented. But Sunghoon was already attacking him, laughing, Sunoo ran upstairs to escape him.

"Don't you want us to be together?" Nicholas asked Y/N. But she was still annoyed with him over their argument the day before and shook her head, linking her arm with Jake's.

"Nope, Jake and I will make a perfect pair. Let's go," she said to Jake. He nodded, grabbing their suitcases to follow her upstairs. Nicholas watched them leave, an unpleasant feeling settling in him before EJ pulled him toward their room.

Y/N and Jake entered their room, freezing when they saw only one bed in the center of the room. They exchanged a glance, Jake blushed violently at the idea of sleeping with her in the same bed. "Uh, I can take the couch if you want."

"Don't be silly, I don't mind us sleeping together. You'll be my human radiator." She playfully bumped him, and Jake smiled, the tension in his shoulders relaxing.

Jake let the young woman unpack her things, leaving the room to join the guys downstairs, but stopped when he passed the room occupied by EJ and Nicholas. He heard the latter complaining, making him curious.

"Why did Y/N agree to room with Jake and not with me? I'm her best friend! And she doesn't like him, right?"

"Why does it matter so much to you? Do you have feelings for her?" Jake froze on the threshold of the slightly ajar door.

"I don't know," Nicholas sighed. "Y/N has always been there for me whenever things went wrong with other girls. I care about her."

"Nico, you're my friend, alright?" EJ said. "And I'm going to tell you this without offending you, but you treat Y/N like shit, as if she's owed to you. Do you think she's going to share your feelings when you rejected her in high school and she's seen you act like a jerk with all your conquests? From her point of view, that doesn't seem like a relationship she wants to get into."

"Great, thanks for cheering me up…" EJ rolled his eyes.

"Bro, I'm saying this for you. Y/N is a great girl, and she'll easily find someone who will take care of her and love her for who she is."

"Not if I confess first," Nicholas declared.

Jake turned on his heel, running down the stairs so they wouldn't know he'd been eavesdropping. So Nicholas had feelings for Y/N? Well, some kind of feeling, because he wasn't clear. But Jake had loved Y/N for years, and he wasn't about to let the woman of his life slip away for a fuckboy like Nicholas.

Bad news: the heating had broken down the next day, and they felt like they were in a real freezer. They'd be frozen solid before the weekend was over.

The living room had become a true mattress, with futons scattered around and cushions and duvets everywhere. Although the heating was off due to the power outage, the fire in the fireplace gave off enough heat to keep the room from being freezing. It wasn't warm enough, however, to forgo wearing sweatpants, sweatshirts, and socks. Hats and gloves for the more sensitive.

"This is actually pretty cool," Sunoo smiled, using Sunghoon as a human hot water bottle.

"Even if our balls are freezing, yeah," Ni-ki mocked.

"I doubt I'll be able to procreate after a night in the cold," Heeseung added. His girlfriend hit him in the chest from their futon, Heeseung laughed, pulling the duvet over them.

"If I hear suspicious noises coming from any of you four, I'm throwing you out into the storm," Kei threatened. The girls laughed when they saw the frightened looks on their boyfriends' faces.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head, and rubbed her hands together to warm them up. The thick sweater Jake had lent her kept her warm, but her extremities remained cold. Little by little, the conversations fell silent, and only the crackling of the logs in the flames made noise.

But the young woman had trouble falling asleep. She felt the cold despite the duvet over her, and Nicholas moving in his sleep on the futon they shared didn't help. Silently, she pushed back the duvet and got up, going upstairs, guiding herself with her hands in the dark.

Y/N entered their room, relieved to find it still warm despite the power outage, and used the light from the snow to search her suitcase for warmer bottoms. Managing to find some sweatpants, she straightened up only to bump into a hard chest and turned to see Jake facing her.

He caught her by the waist, his warm hands sending shivers over her cold skin. They were so close that even in the dim light, she could see his eyes darting between hers and her mouth. "You're alright?"

"Yeah, I was just a little cold, so I came to see if I had something warmer than my leggings. And you? Couldn't sleep?"

"Not really. I was thinking." She breathed slowly, her eyes tracing his face, the curve of his throat, his sweatshirt hugging his frame.

"About what?"

Jake's hands tightened on her hips, his fingers digging slightly into her skin as his chest brushed hers. Y/N held her breath, tilting her head back slightly to look at him.

She reached out, grabbing his hat to remove it, his brown locks cascaded down in front of his eyes. She gently brushed his hair aside, the young man's breath caught in his throat. "I'm not brave enough to tell you this, so let me show it to you."

At her nod, Jake leaned his head down, placing his mouth on hers. His lips were warm against hers, offering her a new source of heat she didn't want to get rid of. Y/N dropped her sweatpants to wrap her arms around his neck, and feeling her return his kiss, Jake lifted her by the thighs to lay her on the bed.

Y/N kissed him again, and the young man deepened the kiss, sliding his hands under her sweatshirt. She sat up and removed her sweater and t-shirt, giving Jacob the chance to admire her body he had dreamed of so much.

Jake removed his top, allowing the young woman to examine his bare chest before he placed kisses on her neck, descending along her bust, which was exposed by her bra. The young woman arched her back when he played with her chest, kissing and leaving a few marks. Y/N slid her hands over his muscular chest and reached the waistband of his sweatpants, which she pulled. Jake straightened up to remove them, staying in his boxers, and pulled down her leggings, dragging them down her legs to throw them on the floor.

Their warm, impatient bodies pressed together, their hands exploring each other's skin without ever meeting. Their underwear soon joined the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, and Jake reached toward his nightstand to open the drawer and fumble around. It must be said that the passionate kisses Y/N was giving him were somewhat distracting him. The young man managed to find a condom, put it on, and positioned himself between the young woman's legs.

She smiled at him to give him permission, and Jake entered her, making her let out a small gasp of surprise. The young man began slow thrusts that eventually sped up. Y/N clung to his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin as he devoured her throat with kisses. She tried to keep her moans to herself, but the rising pleasure didn't make it easy. At least everyone was asleep downstairs, and no one on the upper floor could hear them.

Jake smiled against her skin when she breathed his name in a long moan and gave a few more thrusts before coming himself. Y/N moved to the side, resting her head against his chest as she caught her breath. The young man crossed one arm under his head, the other wrapping around her waist.

As he amused himself by tracing certain parts of her skin under his fingers, he saw her gaze lost in space and placed a kiss on her temple to get her attention. "Mmm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"That we should have done this much sooner." He chuckled, his face buried in her hair.

"Well, I didn't dare admit what I was feeling, so it was difficult."

"Why did you do it today, then?" Jake stayed silent, not daring to admit that he had heard Nicholas talking to EJ about his feelings for Y/N. "Jake?"

"I told myself I had to take my courage in both hands before someone else confessed their feelings to you," he lied, though it was half the truth. "I didn't want to let this chance pass because I really love you."

She smiled, snuggling closer against him. Once the heat had subsided and the coolness of the lack of heating was felt, they dressed again and quietly went downstairs to the living room.

Jake, who occupied a couch since he was alone, went to lie down on it and raised his eyebrows when Y/N followed him. She lifted the duvet to snuggle against him, or rather on top of him due to lack of space, and pulled the cover over them. He smiled, holding her in his arms and placing a kiss on her forehead. Sleep finally overtook them until the next morning.

The sun filtered through the living room curtains, gradually waking the sleeping masses all around the living room. Jay got up, his hair tousled, and couldn't help a smirk from appearing when he saw Jake and Y/N still asleep, curled up on the same couch under the same duvet. It seemed the young woman had changed mattresses during the night.

Jay gently woke the others so they could enjoy the show without waking the duo, but Sunoo didn't agree. "OH MY GOD!"

Jake slowly emerged following Sunoo's scream, frowning at the brightness, and held Y/N tighter against him, she intertwined her legs with his, seeking more of his warmth.

"Looks like there's a third couple among us."

Y/N opened her eyes to find the smiling, mocking faces of their friends. "What? You look even more stupid than usual."

"Oh, excuse us," Sunghoon mocked. "Looks like you found yourself a new heat source during the night, you naughty girl!"

"Don't talk about my girlfriend like that," Jake growled, trying to hide from the light.

"GIRLFRIEND?!" Sasha and Kat shouted in unison with Sunoo and Nicholas.

"Since when?"

"You don't need to know, you gossips," Y/N smiled at her female friends. Her face pressed against Jake's chest, she met Nicholas's gaze, who was staring at them, standing with clenched fists. "What? You'll find a girlfriend too, Nico. I managed to find an adorable boyfriend in Jake."

Nicholas flashed a fake smile and congratulated them before going upstairs to return to his room. Jake felt a little bad but was happy to be able to hold the one he loved in his arms.

Masterlist