enwrites

It made you feel broken. Or worse—boring. Like your body was wired wrong. Like you’d missed the most basic feminine skill everyone else seemed to be born with.

Girls talked about cumming like it was breathing. Like they could do it in five minutes flat with one hand and a good imagination. You’d hear them talk about shaking through the sheets, arching off the bed, seeing stars—and you’d smile and nod and laugh along, pretending like you got it, like you knew what it was like to get wrecked by your own hand.

You’d never even come close.

You tried toys. You bought a vibrator and nearly cried when it did nothing but make your arms go numb. You tried grinding on pillows until the friction made you raw. You tried porn. You even tried watching yourself once in the mirror like some kind of twisted self-help therapy. Nothing worked.

You’d touch and touch and chase and beg for it in your head—please, just this once, just let me finish, please—and still end up breathless, sticky, empty.

You’d cry sometimes. Just a little. From the frustration of it. From the absolute humiliation of being so fucking horny and not being able to do anything about it.

You hated that about yourself. Hated the way your body seemed to enjoy the build and not the release. Hated the way your clit would throb for attention and then get overwhelmed the second you gave her any. Hated the need. The noise. The mess with no reward.

But the worst part—the actual worst part—was how much you still wanted it. How much you still tried. Like a dog chasing its own tail. Like some needy little loser who couldn’t leave it alone.

You were eighteen, for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to know your body by now. You were supposed to be able to make yourself cum. You were supposed to own your pleasure.

Instead, you were stuck with a pussy that got wet at the idea of being touched and then shut down the second you did.

It made you feel fucking insane.

So you gave up. Mostly. You still touched yourself when you needed to—when it built up too much and made your thighs ache. But it wasn’t about cumming anymore. It was maintenance. A reset button. A pressure valve. You did it in the dark, quietly, quickly, just to shut your body up.

You didn’t even think about pleasure anymore.

You didn’t dare.

-

Evie—Heejoo, but you only ever called her that when you wanted to piss her off—was your best friend in the world. Ride-or-die since ninth grade, bonded over a shared hatred of your chem teacher and the fact that neither of you fit into your school’s carefully manicured social circles.

Where you were sharp and quick with your mouth, she was soft-spoken and wide-eyed, just sweet enough to disarm anyone who got too close. You balanced each other out. She calmed your storm. You stirred hers.

You were over at her house so often it barely felt like visiting anymore. You knew the code to their garage door. You had your own toothbrush in her bathroom. Her mom kept your favorite cereal in the pantry like clockwork. You even had a drawer in her room, mostly old hoodies and stolen pajama shorts that smelled like her perfume.

It wasn’t unusual for you to spend the weekend there, or three nights in a row, or an entire spring break. Her parents didn’t mind. They liked knowing where you both were—liked having an extra body in the house, even if they never said it out loud.

And then there was Heeseung.

Her older brother. Four years up. Barely a presence.

When you were younger, he was just the older guy who sulked in his room and stole her chargers. Sometimes he’d give you a ride when Evie asked, sometimes he’d walk past you in the kitchen and grunt a greeting, but that was about it. He was there, and then he wasn’t—off to college, off to god knows where, vanishing from your life as quickly as he’d drifted through it.

You had a tiny crush on him once, freshman year. The kind that sparked quick and stupid, fed by his lazy smirk and the way he wore his backwards cap while fixing his car in the driveway. It died fast—suffocated by time and distance and his complete disinterest in acknowledging your existence beyond a nod or a side-eye.

By the time he moved back home post-grad, you barely noticed. He was older now, busier, always in his room with the door closed, voice low behind it, like he was on constant phone calls or late-night games or… something.

You didn’t think about him much. He was just Evie’s brother. Part of the background. White noise.

Your focus was always Evie.

She was the one who held your hair when you puked. The one who lent you a dress before every shitty date. The one who knocked on the bathroom door when you were taking too long and said, “You better not be edge-cumming again, bitch,” like it was the most normal sentence in the world.

She talked about sex like it was just part of the air. Blunt. Effortless. She could make herself cum in three minutes flat. She said it with confidence, like breathing.

You hated how easily it came to her. You loved her anyway.

You always felt safe in her house. Safe in her bed, tangled up under a shared blanket, legs overlapping like twins born too far apart. Her room smelled like vanilla and lip gloss and safety. It felt like yours.

-

The house settled around you like it always did—quiet, gentle, familiar in a way that made your muscles loosen and your brain drift. Even the silence felt padded here. The hum of the fridge downstairs, the occasional pop of cooling pipes, the subtle click of the thermostat shifting—background noise you’d grown so used to, it almost felt like home.

Evie was out cold beside you, one arm thrown carelessly across your stomach, her breath hot against your ribs. She always slept fast after wine. She always slept on you, too—like her body never quite understood boundaries even after all these years. You didn’t mind. It was comforting, the weight of her. Like a grounding wire for the anxious, electric static building low in your belly.

Sleep wasn’t coming for you, though.

You’d been lying there in the dark for the better part of an hour, phone dimmed to nearly unreadable brightness, eyes burning from the glow. Nothing on your feed caught your attention. You’d scrolled past the same content three times already, thumb swiping out of pure muscle memory.

Something restless twisted beneath your skin, persistent and irritating. Not quite horniness, not quite insomnia—just that same pulsing tension that had been sitting heavy between your legs all night. Like your body was trying to tell you something without using words. You shifted under the blanket, trying not to disturb Evie, thighs pressing tighter together to relieve the dull ache. It only made it worse.

The urge to do something about it had been growing for hours.

You’d thought about sneaking off to the bathroom. You’d done it before—quiet, quick, businesslike. Just enough friction to take the edge off before falling asleep, still unsatisfied but too tired to care. The idea barely tempted you anymore. You already knew how it would end: the usual mess of spit-slick fingers, your clit swollen and sore, pussy wet and pulsing and still refusing to give you anything real.

Just the thought of trying again made you clench your jaw.

It was pathetic, the way your body teased you. Wet for no reason. Needy without payout. Over and over again, like clockwork. Like punishment.

You turned your phone off with a quiet sigh and let the screen go black.

For a moment, all you could hear was the creak of the floorboards expanding under the weight of a settling house. A branch tapping against the window. The subtle drag of Evie’s breathing. You stared at the ceiling, tired but tense, willing yourself to shut down the frustration building behind your ribs.

A man’s voice, deep and casual, barely audible through the cracked bedroom doors. Not enough to make out words. Not yet. Just the soft cadence of speech, rising and falling like a secret being shared too close to the edge of the world.

Heeseung’s door was open. Or cracked. Just enough to let a sliver of sound spill out. You hadn’t even realized he was home tonight.

Your body stilled, like it always did when you felt watched—except this time, you were the one doing the watching. Listening, technically. Just barely.

There was a pause, then a laugh. Not his. Another voice. Someone else. Male. Maybe one of his friends from school, the ones who came and went without warning. You couldn’t place the sound, and you didn’t care.

Your focus sharpened the second Heeseung spoke again.

“It’s not that hard. Girls make it harder than it is."

“If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.”

The sentence dropped like a stone in the middle of your chest.

Not whispered. Not dirty. Just… stated. Like a law. Like fact.

Your fingers flexed unconsciously against the blanket. Heat flushed your neck and settled low in your belly, familiar and unwelcome. You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

There was something about the way he said it. Not performative. Not like he was trying to sound cool. Just calm. Confident. Like the kind of guy who got women off without effort and never thought twice about why.

Every hair on your arm lifted. He didn’t stop there.

“And if she won’t listen…I’ll make her.”

No laughter followed that. No teasing. Just a quiet moment where it hung in the air, unchallenged.

You lay frozen in the dark, heart thudding, mouth slightly open. Your legs ached under the blanket, thighs tense and pressed together. You weren’t just turned on—you were caught. Cornered by something you weren’t supposed to hear and couldn’t let go of.

Something clicked. Not like a revelation, not some dramatic internal monologue, just… a shift. A tilt in the floor beneath your feet. A door opening in a room you didn’t realize you were trapped in.

You didn’t even know what you wanted in that moment.

But for the first time in your life, you wondered—really wondered—what your body would feel like under instructions that weren’t your own.

-

You tried not to think about it for the rest of the day. Swore you wouldn’t spiral.

You kept the overheard words tucked somewhere tight in your chest, smothered under fake laughter and half-listened stories while Evie walked you through her latest dating app disasters. You made it through brunch, through an entire Target run, through two face masks and one trashy Netflix documentary—and you almost convinced yourself you were over it.

But when the house quieted again that night—when Evie fell asleep curled up on the far side of the bed with her arm draped over a pillow instead of you—you gave in.

You waited a while. Just in case she wasn’t fully out. The kind of sleep that could crack open with the creak of floorboards.

And when her breathing evened out, soft and deep and oblivious, you slid out from under the blanket, grabbed your phone, and slipped into the hallway.

The bathroom door closed with a soft click behind you.

You didn’t turn the light on right away. Just stood there for a second in the dark, breathing.

The air was cooler here. The tiles cold against your feet. The smell of Evie’s shampoo still clung to the room—vanilla and something floral, sticky-sweet. You stared at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, barely visible in the silver sliver of hallway light. Your face looked flushed. Too open. Like something had already been peeled back.

You sat on the closed toilet lid, tugged your hoodie over your thighs, and pulled your phone into your lap.

No buildup. No browsing. You knew what you were looking for.

The video you always came back to. The closest thing you’d ever found to what worked. A deep voice. Slow instructions. Just audio—nothing to watch, nothing to focus on but sound.

It wasn’t him, but it didn’t have to be. Not yet.

Your underwear stuck to the heat between your thighs as you slid it down. Still wet from the tension that had been building since that morning. From the second you saw Heeseung in the kitchen and felt your legs press together automatically.

The wetness should’ve been a good sign.

But you already knew how this would go.

You played the video. Turned the volume down low. Closed your eyes.

Your fingers found your clit easily. Rubbed gentle circles, the way the voice said. You tried to breathe through it, tried to slow down, to listen.

There was too much pressure too soon. Your skin twitched with every touch. The angle was wrong. The rhythm never quite synced. Your body jerked between feeling almost there and feeling absolutely nothing.

You tried harder.

Tried picturing something—someone. His voice. His mouth. The way he looked at you this morning like you weren’t just Evie’s friend, like he saw something else.

That made your fingers move faster. Your hips twitch up from the seat, trying to find something—anything—that would tip you over.

But it never came.

Just heat. Just sweat. Just the same stinging tension in your thighs and the wave that built up, crested, and refused to break.

Your hand dropped. Your chest heaved with a breath that sounded too much like a sob.

You sat there for a full minute in silence, pussy swollen, twitching, soaking your hand—and still nothing. You hadn’t cum. Not even close.

Not even fucking close.

Your palm dragged across your inner thigh as you reached for toilet paper, the wet slick of your own arousal catching against your skin, obscene and bitter and useless. You wiped your hand clean, flushed, washed it under the tap in a daze.

Your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, flushed cheeks, wild eyes, bottom lip bitten raw.

This wasn’t working.

You couldn’t do this by yourself. Not anymore.

The shame didn’t even hit you until you opened the door, stepped back into the hall, and looked toward Heeseung’s room.

You didn’t remember walking from the bathroom to his door. Not really. Your body moved on instinct, fingers still damp with failure, breath shallow and uneven like you’d been running—not down a hallway, but in circles inside your own skin. Everything felt hot and wrong, like you were standing too close to something dangerous and still leaning closer.

The light from under his door was soft, pale blue. The kind of glow that came from a computer screen and sleepless hours. It made the hallway feel colder. Your skin felt clammy beneath your hoodie, thighs still tacky with your own arousal, pulse thudding hard behind your ears. You didn’t even try to calm yourself before raising your hand. There wasn’t enough time. There wasn’t enough anything left.

You knocked.

Soft, quick. Regretted it immediately.

Nothing.

The silence on the other side stretched just long enough to make you feel stupid. You should’ve gone back to Evie’s room. Should’ve locked the bathroom door and buried your face in your hands like you always did. Should’ve swallowed the shame and left it to rot where it always did: at the bottom of your throat.

Your hand was already dropping when the doorknob turned.

Heeseung opened the door halfway, leaning into the frame, and for a second you couldn’t speak. You weren’t expecting him to look like that—hoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms, collar askew, hair a damp mess like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. His sweatshorts hung low on his hips, legs bare, skin flushed warm like he’d just come out of the shower… or just come. You had no way of knowing which. And it made your brain short-circuit either way.

He didn’t look surprised to see you. Just confused.

His eyes dragged down your body with a slow kind of calculation, and you swore you saw the moment they caught on the way your thighs were pressed together, your bare legs twitching under the hem of your hoodie. The way your breath hitched in your throat. The way your fingers—still wet, still trembling—curled tighter at your side.

He blinked once, brows pulling in slightly.

“You good?”

The question was simple, quiet. But it hit like an echo in a room with no furniture. You were not good. Not even close.

Your voice came out before you could soften it. Flat, direct. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He blinked again. Caught off guard this time.

“…What?”

“I just need to know,” you said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “Before I say anything. It matters.”

He stared at you for a beat, mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or suspicious.

“No. I don’t.”

You exhaled like someone had untied a knot inside your chest.

“Fuck.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “What?”

“If you said yes,” you muttered, eyes darting to the floor, “I would’ve had an excuse not to ask you.”

That made him pause.

He shifted his weight, crossed his arms over his chest, leaned into the doorframe like he was settling in. His voice was a little lower when he asked, “Ask me what?”

Your whole body burned. There was no easy way to say it. No casual phrasing. No safe distance between you and the truth anymore. You didn’t have the energy to dance around it.

“You said something last night,” you started, forcing yourself to look at him. “About girls who can’t finish. About how they’re not listening to their bodies.”

He watched you carefully. No expression, just the slow, measured study of a man waiting for the rest.

“I heard it,” you added. “By accident. But it’s been stuck in my head. And I thought—I don’t know, I thought maybe you were right.”

Still nothing. Just his gaze crawling over your face, down to your knees, like he was trying to see where this was going before letting himself speak.

You swallowed, the taste of failure still thick in your throat. “I tried again tonight. Bathroom. Just now. I’ve been trying for years, and it’s always the same. Nothing works. I can’t finish. I touch myself, and it just—goes nowhere.”

Your cheeks burned. You didn’t even know why you were telling him all this. You barely knew the guy. The last time you’d had a real conversation was probably three birthdays ago when he offered you a ride and you said no because he smelled like weed and fuckboy cologne.

But here you were. Standing in front of him like some half-dressed, sweat-slick confession, spilling everything.

And he still hadn’t said a word.

Your next breath shook as it left you.

“I don’t want you to touch me,” you said, quieter now. “I just want to ask… if you’d tell me what to do.”

That got something out of him. A small breath through his nose, not quite a laugh, not quite disbelief. His eyes dropped—lower this time—to your legs again, to the edge of your hoodie, to the bare skin flushed and prickling under the hallway air.

He nodded once toward you, chin tilting. “Your hand’s still wet.”

You froze.

His voice was low, unreadable. “You tried that hard, huh?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

He stepped back.

Just a few inches. Just enough to open the door wider. The light from inside poured out around him, cool and soft and full of static.

He held your gaze.

 “Come in. Close the door behind you.”

The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and just like that, the house disappears. Evie’s room, the hallway, your entire carefully contained world—it all drops away. There’s only the low glow of his monitor casting pale blue light across the carpet and the quiet hum of something electric in the corner, like the room itself is holding its breath.

You hover near the door for a second, not sure what to do with your hands, your legs, your shame.

Heeseung’s already sitting, legs wide in his desk chair, turned toward you like he was waiting the whole night for this. He shifts, pushes himself up slightly, and drags the chair forward—lazily, unbothered—until it sits right in front of the bed. Close enough that if you spread your legs, he’d have a front-row seat.

Then he flips the chair around, straddling it backwards like some cocky delinquent in detention, arms crossed over the backrest, chin resting casually on top. His expression doesn’t change. He just watches you.

“Go ahead,” he says, voice calm and low, like this is just another Tuesday night. “Sit.”

You make your way to the bed, legs tense, breath shallow, and perch at the edge like it might bite. Your thighs clench on instinct, hoodie pulled low, trying to shield what you already know he’s seen. You’re still warm from the bathroom. Still soaked. Still aching.

His eyes drift down. Slow. Lazy. No shame.

You fidget.

Heeseung doesn’t move. “Don’t get shy on me now. You came in here asking for a masturbation lesson, not a bedtime story.”

Your lips twitch. You almost laugh. Almost.

He lifts his chin. “Tell me what you usually do.”

The question lands harder than it should. Not because it’s dirty, but because it’s so simple.

You blink. “Like… where I touch?”

“Yeah.”

You hesitate. “I usually just go straight to my clit.”

“Figures.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “And then what? Rub the fuck out of it ‘til it gets sore and wonder why it doesn’t work?”

Your mouth falls open in a small gasp. “Excuse me?”

He shrugs one shoulder, unbothered. “Don’t take it personal. That’s what most girls do. It’s not your fault you think the goal is speed over sense.”

You don’t respond, but your silence is answer enough.

He leans in a little, forearms resting on the chair back, gaze glued to your bare thighs. There’s no hunger in it—not yet. Just observation. Like he’s assessing you.

“If your pussy had a voice,” he says smoothly, “she’d be screaming at you to chill the fuck out.”

You’re quiet for a long second. Because the worst part is… he’s not wrong.

He watches you squirm, and something like amusement passes over his features. Not cruel, but smug.

“Take your time,” he says, gentler now. “You rush her, she locks up. Doesn’t matter how wet you are.”

“…She?” you murmur, lifting a brow.

Heeseung shrugs again, like it’s obvious. “Yeah. She.” His eyes flick to yours. “You don’t gotta name her or write poetry about her, but you should probably stop treating her like a vending machine.”

Your laugh breaks before you can stop it. Quick and sharp, nerves bleeding out of your throat. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he says with a smirk, eyes dark. “Go on. Show me how you start.”

Everything tightens. You feel the weight of his voice low in your belly.

You don’t move right away.

He raises a brow. “You said you didn’t want me to touch you. That’s cool. But I need to see what you’re doing wrong.”

Your breath hitches.

Your hand moves on instinct—slow, shaky—and dips beneath the hem of your hoodie, then under the band of your panties. You’re already wet. Embarrassingly wet. And when your fingers graze over your clit, you flinch. It’s too sensitive. Too much. Your hips jerk a little, and you pretend not to notice the way his eyes follow the motion.

You rub. Once. Twice. It’s not bad. It’s what you always do.

But still—nothing clicks.

Heeseung tilts his head. “You’re too stiff.”

“I’m nervous,” you admit quietly.

“Don’t be.” His voice drops half an octave. “You look hot.”

The way he says it—it doesn’t sound like a compliment. Just a fact. Like he’s telling you what time it is. Like your soaked fingers and clenched thighs are something he’s been picturing all night.

“You’re thinking too much,” he adds. “Trying to force it instead of feel it.”

Your hand stills.

He leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now, more intimate. “Try this. Press your hand flat. Just hold her. No rubbing. No tapping. Just… feel her.”

You hesitate, then obey.

The flat of your hand settles between your legs, heat blooming up your arm from the contact. Your whole body clenches around it.

“Feel that?”

You nod. Barely.

“That’s what she likes,” he murmurs. “You’ve been poking at her like she’s a fucking keyboard. No wonder she’s not putting out.”

You let out a breathy laugh—half scandalized, half aroused. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re soaking through your panties,” he says, deadpan.

Your breath catches. Heeseung doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t look away.

He sits there like he’s got all the time in the world. Like he’s doing you a favor. Like he’s enjoying this. You’re not even sure he’s hard yet—but he will be. You can feel it building. Between you. In you.

He lets the moment hang.

Then: “Now—slow circles. Don’t speed up unless she tells you to.”

“She doesn’t talk,” you whisper, teasing without confidence.

His gaze is heavy. Steady.

“She does,” he says, voice like heat sliding under your skin. “You just haven’t been listening.”

The room feels hotter now.

Not just the air—your skin, your mouth, your thighs. Sweat clings to the backs of your knees, damp beneath the bunched-up hoodie, and your panties are so wet they’re practically glued to one thigh. Your hips keep twitching without your permission, rolling up slightly with every pass of your fingers. It’s not graceful. It’s not some porn fantasy. It’s messy and uneven and real, and Heeseung is watching every second of it like it’s the only thing worth watching.

You keep thinking you should feel embarrassed. Ashamed. You’re spread open on his bed, hand stuffed between your legs, whining softly every time you stroke a little too hard and have to ease back again—but you’re too far gone now to stop. Your cheeks are flushed, lashes wet, lips parted, and you can’t look away from him.

He hasn’t blinked once.

Heeseung is still straddling the backward chair, elbows resting on the top, chin on one hand like this is casual. Normal. Like you’re just some half-naked girl jerking off in front of him for practice and he’s your substitute teacher for the night.

The only thing that’s changed is his posture.

His knees are spread wider than before. His forearms are tense. One hand grips the edge of the chair a little tighter every time your body jerks, and you don’t miss the way his jaw flexes every time your breath stutters or your voice cracks.

You’re doing this to him.

But not enough.

Not enough to make it stop hurting. Not enough to make the ache go away. Not enough to finish.

You’re trying. God, you’re trying.

Your fingers rub in slow circles, not too fast now. You’re listening. You are. But your body keeps tensing at the edge, like it’s scared to fall off the cliff it’s been building for years. Your hand’s cramping. Your clit throbs. Your stomach clenches like you’re close—and then it dips, again and again.

It’s good. So good.

But it’s not enough.

You choke on a frustrated sound, somewhere between a sob and a moan, and your free hand fists the blanket beneath you like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Heeseung speaks, finally, voice low and steady. “Still rushing her.”

“I’m not,” you whisper.

“You are. I can see it.”

You shake your head, breath stuttering. “I’m not trying to—I swear, I’m—” You gasp. “It’s just—it’s not—”

You stop. Words catch in your throat. Your hips are rocking now, involuntarily, chasing a sensation that keeps pulling away the second you get close. Your fingers are wet, your pussy’s pulsing, and it still feels like you’re just rubbing up against a wall.

“It’s not enough,” you breathe out, broken. “I—I can’t—fuck—she’s not listening.”

Heeseung leans forward slightly, something sharp flashing in his eyes.

“Oh, she’s listening,” he says. “You’re just not talking to her the right way.”

You whimper. “Then tell me what to say.”

That makes his mouth twitch—just barely. Like he’s been waiting for that.

“Tell me what she’s feeling first.”

“I—” Your voice cracks. “She’s tight. Warm. I feel her—pulsing. Like she wants something but—she’s not opening.”

He tilts his head slightly, gaze dark. “She wants to be filled.”

You nod.

“No,” he says. “Say it.”

Your chest heaves. Your hand hasn’t stopped moving, rubbing slow, desperate circles around your clit. “She wants to be filled.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“She wants to be fucking filled,” you whine. “She’s throbbing—she’s soaking—fuck, I can feel her squeezing nothing.”

Heeseung exhales slowly, eyes flicking down between your legs again.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Now she’s talking.”

Your fingers glide lower, catching more slick and sliding back up. Everything’s soaked. You’re dripping down onto the sheets, and your thighs are trembling from the strain of keeping your hips lifted just right.

“She needs more,” you pant. “She’s clenching—she’s starving—”

Heeseung’s hand flexes around the edge of the chair again. His voice drops, almost to a growl. “So feed her.”

You moan—high and breathy—and press harder, circling your clit faster now, the way your body wants. Your lips are wet, your fingers slipping, but it doesn’t matter. Everything is slick and hot and alive.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters, eyes burning into you. “Look at your fucking fingers.”

You do. It’s obscene. Your hand shines in the light, your fingers coated in slick. You barely recognize your own body like this. Ruined. Responsive.

“She’s begging,” he says softly. “And you’re finally listening.”

You whine, eyes squeezing shut. Your free hand presses against your lower belly, trying to hold the heat in. Your pussy twitches at the pressure.

“She’s so fucking greedy,” you gasp. “She won’t stop pulling—I can’t—I can’t keep up—”

“You don’t have to,” he says. “She knows what she’s doing. Let her take it.”

You don’t even realize how loud you’ve gotten until you hear yourself moan again—shameless, cracked open, shaking from the inside out.

Your legs spread wider. You’re not trying to hide anymore. Not from him. Not from yourself.

You’re right there.

You’re going to break.

He’s just watching. Like it’s his favorite thing he’s ever seen.

You’re right on the edge, and this time it’s not teasing.

It’s sharp. Fast. Inevitable.

Your legs are trembling now, hips jerking with every motion, and your fingers are soaked—slipping against your clit, coating your inner thighs, dripping down the crease of your ass like your body’s trying to fuck itself open. Every stroke sends another wave of tension through you, and there’s no holding it anymore. Your body is begging. Your pussy’s leaking, twitching, clenching around nothing—and Heeseung watches like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You don’t even realize you’re moaning until you hear it echo back at you in the small room. High-pitched. Desperate. Wet.

The sound of your pussy is louder now too. Sticky and obscene, each rub slicker than the last. You can hear it every time you roll your hips into your palm.

Heeseung doesn’t say a word for a second too long.

You lift your head, eyes glazed over, panting.

His eyes are darker now. Half-lidded. Focused on your pussy like he’s reading it better than your face.

He shifts in his chair. Spreads his knees wider. His hand dips into the front of his sweatshorts, slow and casual, like he can’t ignore it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his fingers wrapping around himself—and your breath catches so hard your vision blurs.

He’s so hard.

His voice comes out deeper. Filthy. Measured like it’s the only thing anchoring him in the room.

“Look at that messy little cunt.”

Your body jerks at the word. You’ve never heard it said like that. Never felt it hit like that.

Heeseung strokes himself once, slow and firm under the fabric.

“She’s drooling all over your fingers. So fucking hungry. Bet she’s never been this loud for you before.”

“She hasn’t,” you breathe. “She never—she never—”

“You’ve been starving her,” he says, still jerking himself lazily. “Touching her like she’s a problem instead of a fucking meal.”

Your hand speeds up, and he sees it. Hears the slap of slick. You’re humping into your fingers now, sloppy and desperate and so close you could scream.

Heeseung leans forward, one elbow braced against the back of the chair.

“You wanna cum, baby?”

You nod frantically, but it’s not enough.

“Use your words.”

Your voice comes out cracked. “Yes. Please—I wanna cum—I need it—”

“Need what?” he pushes.

“I need her to fucking break,” you sob. “She’s clenching—she’s begging—she needs to cum, she needs it—”

“Then let her,” he growls. “Don’t fucking hold it. Let her make a mess.”

You whimper, fingers frantic, back arching off the bed.

And that’s when he says it—low and hot and foul.

“Let her fuck your fingers, slut.”

You snap.

Your body locks up, then shatters. You cum so hard your legs shake, hips jerking forward, thighs squeezing around your own hand as your pussy gushes over your fingers in sticky, messy waves. The moan that rips from your throat is broken, cracked, half-wet from tears.

It doesn’t hit you right away.

At first, there’s just white. Blinding. A full-body seizure of pleasure as your cunt clenches around nothing, soaking your own fingers, mouth open in a moan that doesn’t even sound like you.

It crashes over you fast. Wet. Messy.

You cum harder than you ever have in your life—harder than you thought was even possible—and your body just keeps going, hips jerking, slick dripping past your knuckles, your voice cracking on every gasp.

Heeseung is still there.

You know he is. You can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath in the space between your bodies, but you can’t look at him. Not right now. Not like this.

And then it fades.

That warm, bright static in your brain flickers out. Your thighs twitch. Your hand finally drops, fingers soaked, wrist aching, clit too sensitive to touch again.

What’s left is the sound of your breathing. The slick, wet mess beneath your hips. The embarrassment flooding in all at once like a second wave.

Reality slams back into you hard.

You’re laid out across his bed—sweaty, flushed, thighs spread wide and soaked all the way down to the crease of your ass. Your pussy’s still twitching, swollen and glistening, your panties bunched at one knee, hoodie halfway pushed up your stomach.

Your fingers shine in the low light. Still wet. Still shaking.

You sit up fast, panic sweeping over your skin like ice water. “Shit—fuck.”

Your hand fumbles to pull your hoodie down, yanking it over your thighs, shoving your panties back into place even though they’re absolutely soaked through. The fabric clings wetly to your pussy and only makes the mess feel worse.

Heeseung hasn’t moved.

Still in the chair. Still one hand inside his shorts. He looks completely unbothered. Calm. Like you didn’t just cum your entire soul out in front of him.

You can’t meet his eyes.

He watches you fuss with the hem of your hoodie, your hands still trembling slightly as you try to make yourself look decent.

“Didn’t say stop,” he says mildly.

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “I came. Pretty sure that’s the goal, right?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Just surprised you’re acting all shy now. That pussy was practically talking thirty seconds ago.”

“Jesus—” you squeeze your eyes shut, bury your face in your hands.

Heeseung grins. Not mean. Not mocking. Just amused.

“You do realize how loud you were, right?” he adds. “I thought the bed was gonna snap in half.”

“Please stop talking,” you groan, voice muffled.

“You were crying,” he says like it’s a compliment, hand still lazily palming himself under his shorts. “That shit was beautiful.”

You peek at him through your fingers. He’s still hard. Still watching you with that same steady calm, like this is fine. Like this is normal.

He doesn’t even seem fazed.

That somehow makes the ache between your legs flare again. Weak, overstimulated, but greedy.

You clear your throat. “I didn’t realize I—um. That I could… do that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Cum?”

You shoot him a look.

Heeseung laughs, finally letting go of himself. “You’ve been fighting her for years. All I did was give you directions.”

You tuck your knees up into your chest, arms wrapped around them. You feel like you just stripped naked in front of someone who stayed fully clothed—and now he’s just lounging there like you didn’t just show him the most private part of yourself.

You sit in that awkward silence for a few seconds longer.

Heeseung stretches, chair creaking slightly. “So,” he says, tone casual. “Lesson two tomorrow?”

You blink.

“…There’s a second lesson?”

He smiles slow, eyes dropping to your thighs again. “You think she’s done learning?”

Your pussy twitches beneath your soaked panties.

-

Your legs are still weak from the first night when you leave.

Just a few days back home. Just a quick visit. You didn’t think it would matter—but the second you cross the county line, your pussy starts aching like she knows she’s been abandoned. Like she misses his voice already.

You think about texting him before you even unpack your overnight bag.

 It starts that fast—barely through the front door, barely through dinner with your parents, barely through pretending to care about someone’s new side hustle or whatever cousin just had a baby, and already your mind is slipping. 

Already you’re restless. Already your body feels too awake. You can still feel the slick sticking to the inside of your thighs from last night, from the way he sat in that chair like he was doing you a favor while you touched yourself for the first time like it meant something. It hasn’t gone away. The ache stayed with you. 

That trembling throb between your legs that didn’t fade after one orgasm—or two—or three. And now, here you are. Sitting in your childhood bedroom like you didn’t just learn how to listen to your pussy in someone else’s bed with someone else’s voice in your ear.

You last all of twelve hours. Maybe thirteen if you count sleep, but that’s cheating. You keep checking your phone like a freak. Not even for a message—just to see his name.

 You scroll through the notifications like maybe he’ll magically show up. You open his contact. Stare at the little circle icon. You type a text. Delete it. 

Type again. Delete. Pace the room. Pull your hair up. Let it fall. Lie on the bed. Toss the blanket off. Roll onto your stomach, then your back, then sit up again because your body’s too hot and your thoughts won’t stop dragging back to the sound of his voice saying “Good girl. She’s listening now.”

You try to distract yourself. Put music on. Stare at the ceiling. Scroll through reels. But the tension is building and it’s not casual. It’s deep. It’s mean. 

Like your pussy’s crawling up your spine and whispering call him over and over again. And finally, like a fucking addict, you give in.

You don’t try to be subtle. Your fingers tremble as you type the message—“Can I call you?”—and hit send before you can regret it. Your breath catches in your throat. Heart pounding. Shame twisting in your gut like you’ve already crossed a line and he hasn’t even replied. But then your phone buzzes. Two texts in a row. You click without thinking.

No. I’ll call you.

Speaker on. Hands ready. Nothing else.

You don’t even get a second to prepare. The call comes in instantly, and you fumble to answer it, press speaker, toss the phone onto your pillow and sit back, legs shaking under your blanket. You’re wearing nothing but a big t-shirt—no bra, no panties. Like your body already knew what was coming.

His voice is in your ear the second the line connects.

Low. Thick. Wrecked.

“You waited all day just to fuck yourself to my voice, didn’t you?”

The sound alone makes your thighs clamp together. You can’t answer. You don’t know what to say. You feel called out, ruined, exposed, and he hasn’t even seen you.

“You’re pathetic,” he breathes, and it’s not cruel—it’s reverent. Like he’s turned on by the depth of your desperation. “You left for less than twenty-four hours and she’s already starving.”

Your breath comes out shaky. “She hasn’t shut up.”

“I bet. That little pussy’s been crying for attention, hasn’t she? Soaking your panties, throbbing for no reason. Did you even try to touch her?”

Your hand slides down your stomach. Shame floods your chest. “I tried last night.”

“And?”

Your fingers drift over your mound, soft and slow.

“…Didn’t work.”

“Of course it didn’t.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “Because she’s not trained to your fingers. She’s trained to my voice.”

You nearly choke.

“Take the blanket off.”

You do.

“T-shirt stays. I want you messy under it. Like a filthy little secret.”

You obey, chest rising. The air hits your bare skin and your nipples pebble instantly under the thin cotton. You slide your hand under the hem and find yourself dripping already—your folds slippery and warm, your clit throbbing at the first brush.

“Fuck. You’re already wet.”

You don’t answer.

“Don’t ignore me. Say it.”

You whimper. “I’m wet.”

“Where?”

Your hand slides lower. “Everywhere.”

“Let me hear it.”

You drag your fingers through your folds, then lift them to the mic.

Squish. Slick. Wet.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “She’s fucking leaking for me.”

“She won’t stop,” you pant. “She’s been clenching—she’s needy. I can’t—I can’t even think straight.”

“She doesn’t need you to think. She needs you to listen.”

You nod like he can see you.

“You touching your clit yet?”

“No,” you whisper. “Just teasing.”

“Don’t tease her. Feed her.”

You obey. Your fingers find your clit and press slow, warm circles into the swollen skin. Your hips twitch immediately. Your body jolts with relief. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“Fuck. That’s it. Let her roll her hips. Let her grind on your fingers.”

You do.

And you moan. Loud. Wet. Pathetic.

“You sound like you’re crying.”

“I might be,” you choke out. “I’m—I’ve been on edge all day. She’s screaming—”

“Then shut her up.”

Your fingers move faster. Your breath turns ragged. The slick is everywhere now—coating your palm, sliding down your ass, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can hear it—slap, slap, slap—and you know he can too.

“God, listen to her,” he says. “She’s fucking talking again. Slapping wet, loud as hell, crying to be filled.”

Your thighs start to shake.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

“Heeseung—fuck, I’m close—”

“She wants to cum. So let her.”

You cum hard, back arching, legs tensed, voice cracking open around a sob as your pussy convulses around nothing—just your fingers, just your shame, just his voice dragging it out of you with nothing but command.

“Again,” he growls. “Don’t you dare take your hand off her. You begged for this. You waited all fucking day for it.”

You keep going. Because you can’t stop. Because this is his now.

-

You don’t get a break.

Heeseung doesn’t let you.

After that first call—the one where you came so hard you swore you saw stars—you thought maybe the tension would ease up. Maybe you’d get to breathe. But you don’t. Because the second you wake up the next morning, there’s already a text waiting for you.

Morning. She hungry?

Your pussy clenches on reflex.

You bite your lip, cheeks flushing under the covers.

Yes.

His reply is instant.

Good. edge yourself until you’re shaking. No cumming. No cheating. You’ll send me a pic of your fingers when you’re done.

That’s it. No teasing. No sweet talk. Just commands. Direct. Cruel. And of course—you obey.

You finger yourself that morning with shaking hands, grinding into your palm in the silence of your old bedroom with one hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. You stop just short of release three times. Your panties are soaked. The sheets beneath you are ruined.

You send the photo.

Two slick fingers, gleaming. One droplet hanging from your wrist like a taunt.

He doesn’t reply until hours later.

Beautiful. Don’t clean her up. Let her stick to your skin. I want her to haunt you all day.

That’s how it starts.

Sometimes it’s a call. Sometimes it’s just a photo prompt. Sometimes it’s voice notes—low, slow, whispered filth that you replay in the bathroom on full volume with your thighs clenched so tight you can barely breathe.

Another day: make a mess on your favorite pair of panties. Send proof. Don’t wash them. Fold them and put them in your drawer like a secret. Like she remembers.

When you can’t call—family dinners, company in the house, a wedding event—he doesn’t complain. He just adapts.

He sends you three voice notes in a row, each one filthier than the last.

“Are you wearing panties right now?”

“She’s wet just from this, isn’t she?”

“Put your phone between your legs. Let my voice buzz against her while you grind.”

You do. In the middle of the day. On the edge of your childhood bed. With the door locked and your hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of you cumming on command.

Every time you text him, he knows what you need before you say it.

On your knees. Two fingers. Say my name when you finish. That’s all.

You cum like a trained animal.

By the end of the fourth day, you’re overstimulated and aching. Your cunt stays warm. Your clit stays swollen. You can’t think straight without hearing his voice. You can’t fall asleep without a pillow between your legs and your phone under your ear, replaying the way he said your name like it tasted good.

He doesn’t let you get comfortable.

I want her ruined by the time you get back. Wet stains on your thighs. Bruised from your own fingers. No excuses. You belong to me now, yeah?

-

You’re at the dinner table when the text comes in.

There’s a bowl of pasta in front of you. Your uncle’s talking about traffic. Your mom’s pouring more wine. And your phone buzzes in your lap—one tiny, harmless vibration you almost ignore until you see the name on your lockscreen.

Heeseung.

Your chest tightens immediately. A hot ripple runs down your spine. You unlock it under the table, heart already picking up speed, thighs pressed tight together like that’s gonna help anything.

You expect a voice note. Maybe an instruction. Instead, it’s just a single message.

Don’t open this here. I’m serious.

You excuse yourself. Bathroom. You try to walk casually, but your legs feel unstable, like your body knows what’s coming and is bracing for it. You shut the door. Lock it. Sit down on the closed toilet seat. And then you open the message.

It’s not a photo. Not a voice note. Just a block of text.

And it destroys you.

I want you dripping. Right now. I want your thighs sticky. I want your pussy hot and twitching and swollen like she’s just been edged for an hour and she’s still not allowed to cum. I want her pulsing around nothing. Squeezing air. Leaking like she misses my cock even though she’s never had it. That’s how good I want her trained. That she misses me even though I’ve never fucked her. I want you to slide your hand into your panties and feel her spit for me. Feel how filthy she’s gotten just from reading my words. Not even hearing my voice. Just letters on a screen and she’s frothing like a brainless little thing. I want her throbbing. Sore. Pink. Aching. I want you to pull your panties to the side and look at what I’ve done to you. How she opens for nothing. How she clenches for nothing. How she cries, fucking cries, when she doesn’t get touched. I want her messy. Slutty. Wet enough to embarrass you. Wet enough you can’t clean it up with one tissue. Wet enough that if someone walked into that bathroom right now, they’d smell her. No fingers. Not yet. Just pressure. Palm down. Let her hump. Let her grind. Let her get yourself dirty. She knows what to do. She doesn’t need permission anymore. You’re gonna leak down your leg just reading this, aren’t you? She’s already twitching. Already soaking. She knows what she is now. A thing that exists to be used. To be made wet. To be trained.

You stare at your screen. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.

And you feel it—that slow, steady drip.

You slide your hand down between your legs and whimper when your fingers meet your panties—soaked through. Hot and sticky, your folds puffy and swollen, everything throbbing with need.

You spread your legs wider. There’s no stopping it. You have to.

You push your panties aside, just like he said, and when you look down, your cunt is shining. Slick lips parted, clit swollen and begging, a string of wet clinging between your folds when you breathe too hard.

You cup her with your whole palm and rock once.

You grind again. Harder. The heel of your hand pressing directly on your clit. Your hips move faster, panting now, forehead pressed against your bent knee as your pussy humps your own hand like she’s starved.

You’re fucking yourself with no fingers. Just pressure. Just filth. Just his words rotting your brain and your pussy loving it.

You don’t stop until your legs lock, jaw clenched tight to muffle the moan that rips through your throat. Your pussy convulses, grinding down hard, cumming in waves against your own palm until you’re crying silently, thighs soaked, panties a mess, body twitching from the force of it.

When it’s over, you’re wrecked. You sit there in silence. Breathing heavy. Panties still pulled to the side, hand drenched, cunt gaping and twitching like she’s still looking for him.

You snap a photo.

Not of your face. Just your hand. Soaked. Ruined. Slick covering your wrist, dripping down your knuckles.

You send it. No caption. A minute later, his reply lights up your screen.

That’s how she’s supposed to look. Every day until you get home.

-

You don’t even knock.

You could, but what’s the point? He told you to come over as soon as you got back. No texts. No warning. Just a short message yesterday night:

You better show up dripping.

And you are.

The shorts you wore are damp at the crotch, your hoodie clinging to the sweat on your lower back. Every shift of your thighs against the car seat on the drive over made you squirm. By the time you’re standing in front of his door, your cunt is throbbing. Empty. Trained. Starving.

He opens it like he already knew you were there.

Barefoot. Hoodie. Nothing underneath.

He stares at you for a second, quiet. His eyes drop to your legs, to the way you’re fidgeting, clenching, trying not to press your thighs together. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t speak.

Just opens the door wider and lets you in.

You step past him. Silent. Heat prickling under your skin. His presence is loud, even without words. You can feel the pressure building already—your pussy knows. She’s aware. Aware of the air, of the scent of him, of how close he is now after five days of only hearing him through a speaker.

He closes the door behind you. And waits.

You turn to him, hands still curled into your sleeves. “I did everything.”

He lifts a brow. “Yeah?”

You nod. Swallow hard. “Every day.”

Heeseung steps forward slowly. Stops in front of you. His eyes flick down, over your body, like he’s looking for confirmation.

“You leaking?”

Your breath catches. “Yes.”

“Prove it.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. But you don’t hesitate.

Your fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and tug them down in one smooth motion. They hit the floor and you step out of them, bare underneath, thighs sticky and glistening. Your hoodie barely covers your hips now. One inch higher and he’d see everything.

He doesn’t touch you.

“Show me,” he says, voice low.

Your breath hitches again—but you drop to your knees. Not because he asked. Because your body knows what to do now.

You kneel between his feet on the hardwood floor, hands moving to part your thighs so he can see. You pull the hoodie up to your waist and slide two fingers between your folds—dripping. It spreads so easily. Glossy. Viscous. Your pussy folds open for your own touch like it’s nothing new. Like she’s been practicing all week.

You keep your eyes on him the whole time.

And when your fingers come back up, soaked and glistening, you hold them out. Heeseung watches you in silence.

Then leans forward, slow and deliberate. He takes your fingers into his mouth and sucks—deep, slow, tongue curling around them like it’s a reward.

Your hips jerk slightly. Your cunt clenches hard. He pulls off with a wet pop and stares down at you.

“She tastes trained.”

You nod.

“She beg yet?”

You exhale. “She never shut up.”

He clicks his tongue. “Yeah?”

Then he grabs your jaw. Fingers firm but not rough, tilting your face up to his.

“You want her filled?”

You nod again. “Please.”

“Not yet,” he says. “She’s not ready.”

“I’m ready—she’s so ready, I’ve been—”

“I don’t care what you think. You’re not here to make decisions. You’re here to do what I say.” He lets go of your face. “You wanna get fed? Earn it. Lay down. Show me how she begs.”

You scramble onto the bed.

Flat on your back. Legs spread. Cunt on display. Dripping.

You’re already on your back, knees drawn up, thighs spread and trembling, cunt pulsing with heat that’s been building all week. You don’t try to hide it. You can’t. Your pussy’s wet. Loud. Lips glossy and parted, folds flushed and twitching like she knows the moment has finally come. She’s been teased. Trained. Denied. You’ve been filling her with fingers and pressure and your own voice, but never this. Never him. And now he’s standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like he’s finally ready to eat.

But he doesn’t touch you first.

He picks your shorts up off the floor, turns them inside out—and finds your soaked panties tangled in the legs. He peels them out slowly, sticky with your slick, the thin fabric darkened and clinging to itself. You watch, breath caught, legs still open, burning with shame as he brings them up to his face.

And sniffs.

Deep.

He inhales like it’s a fucking ritual. Eyes half-lidded. Thumb pressing into the crotch to smear the wetness around before dragging it across his lip. His tongue flicks out—tastes it.

“Jesus fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “She’s been marinating in this.”

Your body jolts. Your hands fist the sheets.

“She’s loud, too.” His voice drops lower. “I haven’t even touched her and she’s already talking. Look at her. Fucking twitching. Dripping. Spreading herself open like she knows who she belongs to.”

“Heeseung—” You whimper.

“Shut up.”

He tosses your panties to the side and climbs onto the bed, slow and smooth, eyes never leaving your cunt. He settles between your legs and just kneels there for a moment. Breathing her in. Hands on your thighs. Pushing them wider. Spreading you so open you can feel the air hit your slick.

You’re soaked. You know it. You can feel it, the slick sliding down into the dip of your ass, the way your folds part with every breath, your clit poking out, hot and swollen.

He just stares.

“You fucking trained her like this,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You really did it. Came like a good little slut every night just to keep her hungry.”

“She’s starving,” you whisper, voice shaking.

“I can see that.”

His thumbs press into the crease of your thighs, holding you open. His face lowers. Inches away. His breath hits your folds and your hips twitch violently.

He doesn’t lick you.

Not yet.

He just hovers. His nose skims your inner thigh. Then up. Right up the slick slit, dragging his breath across your folds until your body shudders. He breathes her in again—this time slower. Longer. Right at the source.

“God,” he mutters. “She fucking smells like obedience.”

You sob.

And then he spits.

Right on your pussy.

Hot. Heavy. Messy.

It splashes over your clit, drips between your folds, mixes with your slick and makes everything worse.

Your hips roll. You can’t stop it.

“Don’t you fucking move,” he growls. “She’s getting attention. She better stay still.”

And finally—finally—his tongue drags up your slit. A long, slow lick from hole to clit that ends with his mouth wrapped around it, sucking hard.

Your hands fly to his hair. Your spine arches off the bed.

But he pins you with one forearm across your stomach and doesn’t stop.

He eats you like a man starved. Like you’ve been feeding her for him. Keeping her ready. Keeping her needy. His mouth is everywhere—tongue licking up everything you’ve been saving, spit and slick and mess pooling under your ass while he moans into you.

“That’s it,” he groans against your clit. “Let me taste five fucking days of begging.”

You cry out, thighs clenching.

But he slaps your pussy with his hand—sharp, wet, punishing.

“Open.”

You go limp. You can’t fight it. You don’t want to.

He eats you like it’s personal. Tongue flat. Licking. Circling. Spitting again. Your clit’s too swollen, too sensitive, but he doesn’t care. He mumbles into you—filth you can barely understand because he’s too focused on devouring.

“She’s so fucking loud. She won’t shut up. You hear that?”

You do.

Your pussy makes noise with every lick—squelching, wet, obscene.

“I didn’t even fuck her yet,” he growls. “And she’s already creaming.”

You try to cum. You try.

But he pulls back just as your thighs start to shake, just as your stomach seizes.

“Nope. She’s not getting fed all the way until I’ve felt her on my cock.”

You nod frantically, fingers gripping the sheets, desperate.

Heeseung leans back, licking his lips, chin soaked, eyes wild.

“She’s ready,” he says. “She’s starving.”

He’s already got two fingers hooked inside you when he tells you to open your mouth.

Not to kiss him. Not to speak. Just to take it.

He shoves his fingers past your lips—soaked in your own slick, the same fingers he’s been curling deep inside your cunt, dragging against that spot that makes your eyes roll back. You gag around them, moaning as the taste floods your tongue—salty, sour, yours. He pushes them down onto your tongue, presses hard until your spit leaks out around them and drips down your chin.

“Swallow it,” he mutters, eyes locked on your face. “That’s what obedience tastes like.”

You do. Of course you do.

Because you’d do anything he says.

And he knows it.

He wipes the slick from your lips with his thumb, drags it down your throat, then shifts forward—kneeling between your trembling thighs, lining himself up with your soaked entrance like he’s been waiting years for this moment.

You stare down at his cock, thick and flushed and leaking at the tip, and your whole body tenses. You’re already open, already dripping, already fucked dumb—but none of it’s going to prepare you for this.

“Look at her,” he mutters under his breath, dragging the head of his cock through your folds, smearing pre-cum across your clit. “She’s fucking begging.”

“She wants it,” you pant, voice shaking. “Please—”

He doesn’t give you time to finish.

He presses in—slow, deep, cruel.

The stretch hits you all at once. Your back arches. Your breath leaves you in a choked gasp, and your pussy clenches hardaround him, sucking him in inch by inch like she never wants to let him go.

“Ohhh, fuck,” he groans. “She’s trained alright.”

You moan. Loud. Desperate. Writhing beneath him as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass, his cock buried all the way to the base.

She’s full.

Finally fucking full.

Your cunt grips him tight, fluttering around his cock like she’s been starving for it—and she has. Every inch of him hits something you didn’t know existed. Your body shakes under the pressure. You’re soaked. Stuffed. Used. And you want more.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she is.”

“She’s yours,” you gasp. “She’s a hole—your hole—she’s been waiting for this—”

He pulls out halfway, then slams back in.

You scream.

“You’re goddamn right she’s mine,” he snarls. “You trained her just to take my cock.”

You nod frantically, crying now, pleasure too thick in your throat to hold back.

He starts to fuck you in earnest—hard, relentless, loud. Skin slapping skin. His cock slick from your wetness, dragging through every twitch and squeeze, pressing deep, deeper, forcing your body to stay open for him. You feel it in your stomach. Your spine. Your fucking brain.

Every thrust knocks your thoughts loose. And you want to thank him. You want to feel him. You want to taste him.

So you lift your head—try to kiss him.

You lean up, lips parting, mouth open and begging.

He pulls back.

His hand grabs your throat, presses you flat into the mattress. You gasp, eyes wide, blinking up at him in confusion. He smiles. Cruel. Mocking.

“No,” he says coldly. “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”

Your breath shatters.

“Kisses are for good girls,” he spits. “You’re just a trained little hole.”

Your pussy clenches around him so violently he groans.

“That’s all you are now, isn’t it?” he sneers. “A stupid little cunt that opens on command. You get used, not kissed.”

Tears spill over your cheeks.

And you cum. Just like that.

From the words. From the shame. From the humiliation.

Your pussy spasms around his cock, soaking both of you as you scream into his hand still wrapped around your throat. Your hips jerk. Your vision goes white. But he doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through it, hips pounding, cock punching into your oversensitive cunt like he’s trying to reprogram you from the inside out.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Let her milk me. Let her show me how much she needed this.”

You’re sobbing. Gasping. Too wrecked to speak.

“Fucking knew it,” he groans. “You were never gonna be satisfied until you got split open.”

He leans down, mouth right by your ear.

“But don’t ever reach for a kiss again. Sluts like you don’t get kissed.”

You’re already limp when he flips you.

Your body gives out so easily—shoulders pressed into the mattress, arms numb, legs trembling, hips cocked up on instinct the second he yanks you onto your stomach. His hands drag you by the waist like a ragdoll. Like something boneless, brainless, ruined. Your face is buried in the pillow. Your cheek sticks to the fabric. You’re crying, still, but there’s no shame left. Just the raw ache of your cunt pulsing around nothing—because he pulled out.

You whine, pathetic and wordless, hips rolling back into the air, leaking down your thighs.

“Still hungry?” he mutters behind you.

You nod into the pillow.

“Say it.”

“She’s empty,” you whimper. “She’s twitching—she wants you back in—she’s not done—she’s never done—”

You gasp when the head of his cock slides back in. Just the tip.

He doesn’t give you the rest.

You wiggle. Cry. Press your ass back against him and moan when your folds stretch again, split open all over his length.

“You trained her to take it,” he says. “Now you’re gonna train her to keep it.”

He presses forward.

His cock buries to the hilt in one brutal thrust, and your whole body spasms. Your hands claw at the sheets. Your cunt clenches so violently it forces a sob out of your chest, high-pitched and broken. You’re still sensitive. Still throbbing from the last orgasm. But he doesn’t care.

He starts fucking you again like he owns you.

The slap of skin echoes in the room, wet and obscene, his cock pounding into your raw pussy like she’s just a hole to conquer. You don’t even try to move anymore. Your body takes it. Open, obedient, used.

“You like that?” he pants. “You like being my little fucktoy?”

“Yeah, you do. You’re trained now. A good little cocksleeve who comes when she’s told. Cries when she’s full. Cums from being humiliated.”

“I do,” you choke out. “I’m yours—I’m your toy—just your fucktoy—use me—use her—”

“That’s it,” he growls. “That’s what she wanted, isn’t it? Not kindness. Not kisses. Just cock. Just someone to shove it in and remind her she’s nothing but a messy, wet little pussy.”

He thrusts harder. You scream into the sheets.

“She’s so loud,” he snarls. “So fucking wet. She’s gushing. Every time I pull out she cries.”

You don’t even recognize your own voice when you cum again.

It’s raw. Ugly. Loud.

You scream—clawing at the sheets, nails ripping fabric, your body wracked with spasms as you squirt all over his cock, wet exploding out of you in waves, soaking the bed, your stomach, your thighs. You can’t stop it. You don’t want to.

He fucks you through it—harder.

“Let her break,” he growls. “Let her fucking split.”

And when your body finally collapses, hips falling, spine trembling, Heeseung doesn’t even slow down.

He grabs your hips, hauls you up, and drives in deep one more time—and stays there. His cock pulses inside you. Thick. Hot. Flooding you.

You feel it. You feel his cum shoot deep, thick ropes filling your already ruined pussy until your belly aches with it.

He stays inside. Keeps you cockwarmed, plugged full, hands rubbing down your spine like this is the aftercare.

Not words. Not love. Just being kept full. Like you should be.

You barely breathe. Your eyes are glassy. Your mouth’s open. You feel him lean over you. Feel the slow drag of his lips against your ear.

“You’re not starved anymore,” he whispers. “She’s fed now. Finally.”

You nod. Barely. Weak. Fucked out. His cock twitches.

“She’s still twitching,” he murmurs. “She wants to sleep like this.”

-

You wake up to the burn in your thighs.

The stretch. The ache. That slick-dried, too-sensitive sting between your legs from being filled for hours without a break. Your skin’s flushed. Clammy. You shift slightly under the covers, still half-asleep, and you feel it—him.

Still there. Still inside you.

You blink. Breathe. Try to make sense of your body—but the pressure between your legs is still warm. Your cunt clenches instinctively, and his cock twitches in response.

A slow, deep ache spreads in your gut.

His arm is draped over your waist. His chest is pressed against your back. He’s asleep—soft breaths on your shoulder, jaw resting against the side of your head. And his cock is still buried to the base in your pussy. Warm. Heavy. Plugging you full like it belongs there.

But something else creeps in too.

You lie there for a moment. Silent. Still. Pussy fluttering, heartbeat slowing, and that awful little ache growing in your chest. The one that started the second he pulled away last night. The one that settled into your ribs when you reached for him and he said “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”

You swallow. You whisper it before you even think about it.

“Are you really not gonna kiss me?”

It’s soft. Not needy. Just… there.

His breath shifts against your skin. His arm tightens slightly around your waist.

You almost regret asking.

Until he exhales through his nose and mutters, voice rough and low and real, “I’m still fucking inside you, you brat. You think I’m gonna spend the whole night cockwarming my favorite pussy and not kiss her in the morning?”

You twist under him, face flushed, and turn your head over your shoulder—and his mouth is already there.

No hesitation. He kisses you hard.

Mouth slanting over yours, tongue sliding in with no patience, lips full and hot and filthy with morning breath and spit. You moan into it, deep and broken, cunt clenching around his cock again like she’s reacting to the kiss like it’s touch.

His hand grips your jaw, thumb dragging over your cheek as he devours your mouth. He licks into you like he means it—like you’ve earned it—like he’s been wanting to do it since before he ever called you a slut.

You’re whimpering into his mouth when it happens.

Your lips slide against his, sticky with spit, your breath still uneven from how long you spent crying into the pillow, your cunt still fluttering weakly around his cock. He hasn’t pulled out. He’s still inside you. Still twitching, half-hard again already, thick and warm, stretching your still-leaking pussy while your body curls back into him, needy and clingy and soft in a way you didn’t get to be last night.

His hand cups your jaw now. Gentle. Finally. His thumb drags along your lower lip, slow and possessive, like he’s re-learning your mouth after denying it. His tongue pushes into you with unhurried filth, and your hips shift just barely, like your cunt’s trying to pull more of him in. Like she doesn’t even know how to be empty anymore.

And then you hear it.

“Heeseung?”

It’s distant. Not loud. Sleepy. But your blood freezes.

“Hey—have you seen Y/N?”

Evie. She’s awake. The breath dies in your throat.

Your eyes fly open. Heeseung’s hand freezes on your jaw. Your whole body locks. His cock is still deep inside you, softening now, but still heavy. Still leaking. You can feel him dripping down your inner thighs as your brain flips inside out with panic.

“Shit,” you mouth, barely audible.

Heeseung exhales through his nose, calm, but his arm is already tightening around your waist like he’s trying to figure out his next move in real time.

“Y/N?” she calls again. “Where’d you go?”

You scramble out of the bed like you’ve been shot. Legs wobbly. Pussy sore. You trip over the blanket as you reach for your discarded clothes, yanking your hoodie on over your head, trying not to scream as your shorts catch on your ankle. You’re still soaked, your panties still twisted around your thigh from where he shoved them earlier, and you can feel his cum still inside you, wet and hot and fucking obvious.

Heeseung’s already sitting up, dragging his hoodie on, running a hand through his hair to make it look like he just woke up.

You’re panicking. “Do I go back to her room? What do I do—what if she’s in the hallway—?”

Heeseung stands up, grabs your shoulders, kisses your forehead once—quick, mocking, cocky—like this is funny to him.

“Bathroom. Now.”

You sprint for it. Just as he opens his door.

His voice is casual. Sleep-rough.

“Yo.”

“You seen Y/N? I woke up and she wasn’t in bed. Her stuff’s still there though.”

Heeseung stretches in the doorway, voice smooth as fucking silk.

“Nah, haven’t seen her. She probably went to the bathroom.”

“She didn’t text me.”

“She probably didn’t want to wake you.”

You’re crouched in the bathroom, hands over your mouth, hoodie soaked at the hem, thighs still trembling. You glance down and see a smear of his cum on your leg, glistening in the morning light like a neon sign of guilt.

“Whatever. Tell her I’m making pancakes.”

“Will do.”

Door shuts. Heeseung turns, leans into the bathroom, finds you crouched by the sink.

“You owe me.”

You punch his chest.

He grabs your wrist. Kisses it.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, voice low. “You’ll pay me back tonight."

-

It’s early.

Evie’s downstairs making coffee. You can hear the clinking of mugs, the stupid hum of whatever playlist she plays when she’s in a good mood.

You’re in Heeseung’s lap. Hoodie on. No underwear. His back’s against the headboard, his cock deep inside you, and you’re grinding slowly—hips circling, cunt fluttering, hands pressed to his chest to keep yourself upright.

You’re not allowed to bounce. Not allowed to moan.

Just slow, controlled rolls—like you’re milking him without giving yourself away.

“You sound like you want her to know,” he whispers against your throat.

You shake your head. Breathe through your nose. Keep moving.

“Then be quiet, baby. Or I’ll hold your mouth and your hips still, and you won’t cum at all.”

You almost cry. He grabs your ass. Tilts your hips just right.

“If she walks in, you better keep her name off your lips while I fill you up.”

You do. Barely.

You cum with your hand clamped over your mouth, twitching around his cock like you were made for it—and Heeseung cums seconds later, low and quiet, mouth on your collarbone.

Downstairs?

Evie sings along to the chorus.

-

It’s disgusting.

There’s no other word for it.

You’re on all fours, face buried in Heeseung’s mattress, drooling, moaning, thighs trembling with every wet squelch of his fingers plunging into you from behind. His mouth is glued to your cunt, spit running down his chin, tongue working your clit in slow, sloppy laps while one hand spreads you open—and the other, lower, slick with your cum, is rubbing tight circles around your asshole.

You’re whining his name. Filthy. Wordless. Brain-melted.

“Fuck, she’s drooling for it,” he mutters into your pussy. “She wants both. She’s ready. One in her ass, two in her cunt—you wanna be stretched like a proper little hole, huh?”

Your face is soaked. Your body’s trembling. Your pussy flutters around his fingers, slick squelching with every slow drag in and out. Your rim clenches, raw and wet from the friction. You try to answer, but all that comes out is a pathetic sob.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she wants.”

“I want it,” you gasp, voice cracking. “I want you to open my ass—wanna be full, wanna cum like a fucktoy—please—please—”

And then—

“Y/N?”

You hear your name like it’s being spoken through a tunnel.

You freeze.

Every muscle in your body locks.

Heeseung doesn’t move.

You can feel his tongue hovering right at your clit. His finger is still circling your asshole.

And then you both look up.

In the doorway. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.

Evie.

Her face doesn’t go red. It goes white. Like her blood just dropped to her feet.

She stares at your body—at your back arched, knees wide, your ass open, Heeseung’s hand buried between your cheeks, your best friend’s brother with his mouth on you and your spit in his beard.

And then she gags. Audibly. Violently.

Her whole body jolts forward like she’s about to puke right there in the hallway.

“Oh my—fucking—god—” she chokes. “What the—what the FUCK—”

She turns. Presses her palm to the wall. Leans into it. Her other hand clamps over her mouth and you see her shoulders jerk. Once. Twice. A horrible, broken sound crawls out of her throat.

“No—no—no—no, no, no—”

She’s panicking.

Can’t breathe. Her body is shaking so hard you think she might collapse.

“Evie—” you start, voice already wet. “Evie, please—please just listen—”

“DON’T.”

The scream hits like a slap.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t—don’t even say my fucking name—”

You’re sobbing now. Reaching for the blanket. Falling off the bed. Barely able to pull your hoodie down over your sticky, twitching body.

Heeseung moves. Not fast enough. Still shirtless. Still hard. His fingers still glistening.

“Heejoo—”

“DON’T. CALL ME THAT.” Her voice is shrill, raw, wrecked. “You’re my fucking brother.”

She looks at you. Like she doesn’t even know you.

And then her expression cracks completely.

Her face contorts—pain, betrayal, disgust, hatred—all in one devastating collapse.

“You were inside her,” she whispers, and her voice breaks. “You had your—your—you were licking her while you were fingering her ass—”

“You’re both fucking insane.”

You crawl toward her. Not thinking. Just begging. Your knees burn. Your hands shake.

“Evie—please—please just let me explain—”

She flinches.

Flinches.

Like your voice touched her skin. Then she goes still. Her breathing slows. Her hands drop to her sides.

She looks empty.

“Don’t come near me.”

Her voice is flat now. Robotic.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even fucking breathe in my direction.”

You can’t speak. Can’t move. She steps back.

Looks at Heeseung. Then at you.

“You’re both dead to me.”

-

​​You don’t remember the walk home.

You don’t remember grabbing your phone, or leaving the house, or what the weather was like. You don’t remember how long you cried, or how many people stared, or how fucking long it took for the heat between your legs to fade into something cold and ugly. You just remember sitting on your bedroom floor—hoodie still wet between your thighs, your underwear balled up in your pocket—and trying to breathe without choking on it.

Because it doesn’t stop. The image. Her face.

Evie, hand over her mouth. Evie, gagging. Evie, stepping back like you were something dirty.

She meant it. Every word.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t fucking breathe in my direction.”

She meant it.

You try to text her that night. You don’t even know what to say. There are three different messages in your drafts: one with just her name. One that says “I’m sorry.” One that says nothing at all.

They don’t send. You’ve been blocked.

He doesn’t text either. You don’t even know if he can.

The silence is so big it feels like a second death. You lie in bed every night with your phone face-up on your pillow, waiting for it to light up with anything. A call. A voice note. Just a name.

It never comes.

But you still feel him. In your body. In your bones.

Every time you try to sleep, your body curls like it’s expecting to be filled.

Some nights you wake up sweating—panting, pussy twitching—because you dreamed of his voice again.

You still miss him. Even after all of it. Even after how it ended.

Even after Evie’s face broke in half at the sight of you—wet, spread open, her brother’s finger sliding into your ass while you begged for more.

You still miss him. And that’s the part that makes you sick.

-

It’s been nearly two weeks since you watched Evie recoil in that doorway, hand clamped over her mouth like she was actually going to vomit.

You can’t erase the memory of her face—how disgust bled into betrayal, how her gaze slid right past you like you didn’t exist, then landed on Heeseung as if he were some twisted stranger in her own home. You tried to bury the image, tried to make it small and unimportant, but it lives in your chest now, swelling every time you breathe.

You haven’t talked to either of them since. Not one word to her, not a single text to him.

It’s as if the world paused on that moment: her voice ripping through the room, your body half-naked, his spit drying on your thighs, your stomach churning with guilt.

Now the doorbell rings, and somehow you already know who’s on the other side.

You open it slowly, hesitation weighing on every movement of your hand.

Heeseung stands there in a wrinkled hoodie, dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. He looks thinner—like the shape of him has caved in from the inside out. His hair is unstyled, his shoulders hunched, and the way he stares at you feels desperate.

Neither of you speak for a few seconds, the silence pressing into your lungs.

Then you break it, because you can’t handle him looking at you like that. “Why are you here?” Your voice comes out flat, echoing the numbness you’ve been living in.

Heeseung swallows, gaze skittering between your face and the ground.

“I had to see you.”

The words feel like they’re meant to fix something, but all they do is twist the knife. You give a hollow laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

“You already saw enough.”

He exhales shakily, bringing a hand up to scrub at the back of his neck.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I know that’s not—there’s nothing I can—” He trails off, struggling, guilt carved into every line of his face. When he finally speaks again, his voice strains.

“You think we haven’t replayed it a hundred fucking times?” he asks. “The door. The blanket. You moaning. Me—God—we were still fucking with each other right there, even when she—”

“Stop.” Your voice cracks. “Don’t say it.”

“We saw her face,” his voice keeps going, low and fast and pained. “We saw it, and we still didn’t stop, like fucking animals. I see it every time I close my eyes. I hear her say my name like I was never hers, like you were never her friend.”

You speak,

“I can’t look at you without hearing her gag.”

The confession slashes the air, and his lips part like you’ve slapped him.

“I can’t hear your name without remembering what it felt like to be in her house, in her family, doing… that, while she thought I was asleep down the hall.”

For a moment, neither of you breathe. Then he forces himself to speak, voice cracking.

“I know. I fucking know, and I hate that we didn’t let go even when we heard her. I hate that she looked at us like we were monsters. I hate that part of me still wanted to stay inside you, and part of you still wanted me there, when we should’ve both stopped.”

You close your eyes, replaying Evie’s strangled gasp in your head, recalling the numb disbelief that followed when she told you not to speak, not to look, not to fucking breathe in her direction.

“I can’t talk to you,” you whisper, voice trembling despite your best efforts. “I can’t even hear your name without feeling sick.”

He swallows and nods, like he’s been waiting for those exact words. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds like he’s about to shatter. “I won’t—if you never want to see me again, I understand.” He drags in a breath that rattles in his chest. “I just needed to know you were… alive.”

For a moment, you want to ask him if he’s okay too, if he’s been eating or sleeping, if he wakes up sweating like you do. But you lock it down, because you can’t afford to care right now.

“Well,” you say, and your voice is colder than you intend, “now you’ve seen me. Congratulations.”

A faint tremor passes through him, and he nods once. There’s nothing else. No lecture, no pleading. He just steps back, shoulders slumped, and turns away.

-

It happens in the grocery store, of all places. You’re pushing a half-empty cart down the cereal aisle, trying not to think about how much quieter life has been since you lost your best friend and the boy you broke her heart with. You’re scanning the shelves for something to distract you when you catch sight of a familiar figure at the other end of the row. 

Your heart lurches, your fingers tightening on the cart handle as your stomach flips. 

Because there, frowning at the boxes of cereal, is Evie—or Heejoo, or however she wants to be called now. You don’t have time to decide whether you should turn and run or force a hollow smile. She glances up, and your eyes meet. Neither of you moves.

 The aisle feels too narrow. Her cart sits between you, an invisible barrier.

She looks different—her hair is shorter or maybe just pulled back in a careless ponytail, dark smudges under her eyes, shoulders tense. She seems hollowed out in the same way you feel. 

Some part of you wants to say hey or I miss you or please talk to me, but the words dissolve in your throat. She’s the one who steps forward first, letting her cart roll behind her. Her heels click on the tile, echoing your every heartbeat.

“Having fun?” she asks, and it doesn’t sound like a question so much as a thinly-veiled jab.

You grip the handle of your cart, mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

“Evie—”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, eyes flicking away like the name itself stings. “You don’t get to pretend we’re okay. You don’t get to act like we’re still friends.”

Her arms fold across her chest, nostrils flaring with each breath, and you feel your own pulse jump in your neck. “I—I’m sorry,” you manage, voice trembling. It’s not enough, you know that.

She scoffs, a breathy, humorless sound. “That’s it? You’re sorry? You think that magically fixes everything?” She gestures sharply, and you notice how tightly she’s clenching her fists. “You screwed around with my brother like it was nothing, and I walked in on—” Her voice breaks, face twisting as she fights off the memory. “I was just the idiot friend who never saw it coming, right?”

Shame flares in your cheeks. You hold your ground, though it hurts to meet her eyes. “I know I betrayed you,” you say. “We—God, I don’t even have the words for how messed up it was. We both knew better. We both let it happen.”

Her hand lifts to cut you off, shaking with the effort. “You think it’s just that you hurt me?” Her voice wobbles between anger and heartbreak. “You hurt him too, you realize that? He was my brother, you were my best friend, and you both blew yourselves up in front of me. Like you had no idea what it would cost.”

Your stomach knots in a way you haven’t felt before. She’s right. It wasn’t just her—it wasn’t just you. It was all three of you, tangling and twisting until it snapped. “I know,” you say more quietly. “And we’re all paying for it. He’s… he’s not okay. I’m not okay. And you’re definitely not okay. There’s no part of this that isn’t broken.”

She lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Do you think that helps? Hearing you say it’s broken doesn’t change the fact that I can’t even look at either of you without wanting to scream.”

You bow your head, voice almost inaudible. “I wish I could take it back.”

She swallows, and for a fraction of a second, the hostility in her eyes flickers with pain. “Well, you can’t.” Her grip tightens on the cart handle until her knuckles whiten, and she exhales shakily. 

“I want my brother back, you know. I want my friend back. But I don’t get either of those things, because you two decided to… to destroy what we had.”

Your throat closes up, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She stares for another few seconds, jaw clenched as she holds herself together. Then she moves around you, snatching her cart by the handle, the wheels squeaking in protest. 

“Enjoy the produce,” she mutters under her breath, voice dripping with bitterness as she passes.

-

It doesn’t happen overnight.

 There’s no single conversation that wipes the slate clean, no perfect gesture that makes Evie’s betrayal vanish, no magic wand that repairs the gaping wound in your chest. 

But over time—slow, grudging, step by hesitant step—you all begin to realize that staying in this darkness is killing you. Staying strangers, orbiting the same guilt without looking one another in the eye, is worse than facing the truth. And that truth is messy, fragile, and riddled with scars.

It begins with Evie texting you, late at night, a week after the grocery store encounter. 

Just three words: We need to talk.

You stare at the screen for a solid minute, heart pounding like it’s trying to break out of your chest. 

Your hands shake as you reply, Yeah, okay. 

That’s all. No apology, no second-guessing, just acceptance. You wait for her to say when or where, but she doesn’t text back until the next afternoon, telling you to meet her at the park near her house. 

And then she clarifies: Just you.

You show up after sunset, nerves jangling in every limb, expecting hostility, or silence, or both. 

Instead, you find Evie sitting on a faded wooden bench under a flickering streetlight. She looks smaller than you remember, knees drawn up under her chin, arms hugging herself for warmth. As you approach, you open your mouth to say something—anything—but she holds up a hand, shaking her head.

“Don’t,” she says, voice tight. “Not yet.”

You stand there, awkward and guilty, waiting for her permission to speak.

She lowers her hand and sighs, staring at a patch of dead grass near her feet. “I asked you here because… this is killing me,” she mutters. “Being this angry all the time. Hating you. Hating him. I can’t keep up with it. It’s turning me into someone I don’t recognize.”

Her words break something inside your chest, and your throat goes thick. You sit down on the far edge of the bench, leaving a wide space between you, unsure if you’re allowed to be any closer. “I… I know,” you manage, voice unsteady. “I feel it too. It’s like I’m rotting on the inside.”

She nods once, gaze flicking to you before sliding away again. “I’m not saying I forgive you,” she warns, and you nod, heart pounding. “I’m just saying I don’t want this to be my life anymore. This—rage. It’s not me.”

She exhales, shoulders curling inward. “And I loved you. You were my best friend. And he… he’s my brother, and I loved him too. So how did we all end up here?”

Silence lingers. You fight back tears that threaten to spill. 

“We messed up,” you whisper, voice cracking. “We both did. Me and him. We used your house, your trust, your everything for our own messed-up… needs, and it was stupid and selfish and we ended up shattering everything.” You swallow a lump in your throat. “I know none of that fixes it. But I swear to you, we never wanted to hurt you.”

Evie laughs bitterly, a hollow sound. “Well, you did. And I can’t pretend you didn’t.” 

Her gaze shifts to the distance, to the halo of light under the streetlamp. “But I don’t know if I can keep hating you. Or him.” 

She hesitates, words coming out slow. “I saw him last week. He looked—God, I hardly recognized him. Like a ghost of himself.”

You nod, biting back the urge to defend him or to ask a dozen questions. “He’s… not doing great,” you say simply, remembering his hollow cheeks, the way his voice cracked when he said he couldn’t sleep.

She wraps her arms tighter around herself, rocking slightly. “Neither are we,” she points out. “None of us are okay. And I guess that’s what I’m realizing. That we’re all stuck in the same crater, staring at the same wreckage. Maybe we shouldn’t be trying to fix it on our own.”

Your eyes burn with unshed tears. “What do you want to do?” you ask, feeling the weight of her words press into your chest.

She’s quiet for a long moment. Then she looks directly at you, tears shimmering at the edges of her eyes. “I want us to talk,” she says. “All three of us. In one place. I want us to put it all on the table, no hiding, no running out. Because if there’s any chance of moving forward—together or apart—we have to face it."

“I’ll text him,” she says, voice ragged. “Don’t expect miracles. But I can’t do this alone.”

A teardrop escapes your lashes and slips down your cheek. “Neither can I,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

She doesn’t respond, just stands up and motions for you to follow. 

-

Evie’s living room is dimly lit, and the air feels thicker than it should—as if everything you’ve said to each other in the last hour is still hovering in the space between. Outside, it’s already dark, the muffled hum of passing cars bleeding in through the windows. You’re all drained—physically, emotionally—yet no one moves to leave. Not yet. It’s not finished.

Evie is perched on the armchair, knees drawn close to her chest. You’re on one end of the couch, Heeseung on the other, and there’s still a gulf of guilt and confusion separating you. But you can feel the conversation building toward something bigger than apologies or confessions of regret.

Evie tugs at the sleeves of her sweater. She glances between you and her brother, mouth pinched tight, but her voice is gentler than before.

“I’m not pretending this is easy,” she begins, clearing her throat. “We’ve all hurt each other. I just want to know what you… what you both actually feel.” Her gaze settles on you, question clear in her eyes. “Do you two even care about each other beyond… beyond whatever it was you were doing?”

You swallow, your mouth dry. This is the moment you’ve been pushing down for weeks, refusing to think about. The reason you woke up gasping sometimes, alone in your bed, missing a warmth you never should have craved in the first place. You take a shaky breath, feeling your pulse hammer in your temples.

“I—” you begin, then stop. Your voice wavers, but you force yourself to speak. “I’m in love with him.”

It comes out bare, unpolished, stripped of excuses. You feel the words echo in your chest, leaving you vulnerable. Across the room, Evie’s eyes widen for half a second, and you can see her guard tighten, just a bit.

Heeseung exhales sharply, his head snapping up. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on the floor, heart pounding.

“I know,” you continue, voice trembling, “that he might not feel the same way. I know we started this all wrong, that I messed up your trust, that I hurt you”—you glance at Evie—“and maybe I don’t deserve a happy ending. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t love him just because I’m ashamed of how we got here.”

Evie inhales like she’s bracing for another blow, her arms tightening around her knees.

“You’re saying you love him, even if he doesn’t love you back?” she asks, carefully, like she’s afraid of the answer.

You let out a breath that feels like it’s been caged in your ribs for months.

“Yes. It’s not… it’s not his responsibility. If it’s one-sided, that’s on me.” You glance fleetingly at Heeseung, face flushing. “I don’t expect anything from him, or from you. I just—” Your voice cracks. “I needed to say it out loud.”

Silence envelops the room, charged with tension. Heeseung is staring at you, eyes wide and glossy, like you’ve knocked the air from his lungs. Evie shifts, chewing on the inside of her lip.

Heeseung finally speaks, voice rough.

“You… love me?”

You manage a small, trembling nod. “I do,” you say, meeting his gaze at last. “And if you don’t love me back, that’s okay. I know how messed up this is. I’m ready to… to accept that.”

He looks startled, as if no part of him expected you to be okay with that possibility. His hands flex on his knees, knuckles blanching. Then he breathes out, shoulders sagging.

“God,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievably stupid.”

You flinch, heart jolting—though there’s no real malice in his tone, only a shaky awe and raw disbelief that seems to be tying him in knots. He forces himself to meet Evie’s eyes for a flicker of a second, as if silently asking for permission to go on.

“Don’t call her that,” Evie snaps, voice quivering at the edges. She fixes him with a sharp glare, arms folded tight across her chest. “I don’t care how you meant it—she’s not stupid, and you don’t get to insult her in front of me.”

“Shut the fuck up Evie, one second,” He turns to you, “Because you think I’m not in love with you? That I’d leave you hanging with all this guilt?”

Your heart stutters, the floor tilting under you. “Heeseung…”

“I’m in love with you too,” he says, and the words hang in the air with tangible weight. “I can’t believe you’d be ready to walk away, believing it was one-sided. That you’d… accept it. God, do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you in so much pain, thinking I don’t feel the same?”

A soft sound escapes your throat—some blend of relief and shock—and tears gather at the edges of your vision. Across the room, Evie exhales shakily, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You can see the swirl of emotions crossing her features: anger, hurt, jealousy, and underneath it all, a lingering care for you both.

Heeseung scrubs a hand over his face, then looks to Evie, voice trembling.

“I love her. I know I messed up. We messed up. We never should’ve lied. But I can’t take back how I feel.”

Evie drags in a deep breath. She pushes herself up from the armchair, pacing a short line across the living room. Her head is down, hands in her hair. When she finally looks at you both, there’s pain in her eyes, but not the same raw fury as before.

“Jesus,” she mutters. “You two…” She chews the inside of her cheek. “I hate what you did. I hate how you did it. But if you love each other—really love each other—I can’t tell you not to.”

 Her shoulders slump. “I want to be angry forever, but… seeing you like this, I—” She presses her lips together, tears brimming, then sets her jaw. “I guess I just want us to find a way to exist without destroying each other.”

A thick silence fills the space. Your chest feels ready to burst from conflicting emotions—gratitude, guilt, longing, terror. You look at Evie and see the ghost of the best friend you once knew, who might be willing to stand beside you again one day, even if it won’t ever be the same.

You open your mouth.

“I know it won’t be easy,” you say softly. “I don’t expect you to forgive everything in one night. But maybe… maybe we can start moving forward?”

Evie dashes a tear off her cheek and gives a tiny nod.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Maybe.”

Heeseung watches her, watches you, then rises from the couch. He hesitates, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you. You stand up, heart pounding, and drift closer. Neither of you quite meets in the middle, leaving a careful gap where all your remorse hangs. But it’s less than before.

Evie clears her throat, hugging herself.

“I can’t stay down here with you two being… whatever you are. I need time, okay?”

You nod quickly.

“Of course.”

Heeseung nods as well, voice soft.

“Anything you need.”

She steps back, wiping her eyes, and there’s a hint of a weary smile ghosting across her face, like she’s relieved but not sure how to show it.

“You two can talk, or… or go, or do whatever. I just…” Her breath catches. “I’m gonna go upstairs. That’s all I can handle right now.”

You don’t stop her.

Then you turn to him, tears slipping down your cheeks, a tremulous hope fluttering in your chest. He lifts a hand—tentative, like he’s scared to break you—and cups your cheek, thumb brushing your damp skin.

He exhales shakily.

“I love you,” he murmurs, the words raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for everything.”

You nod, voice catching in your throat as you rest your hand over his.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “But I love you, and maybe… that’s something we can start with.”

His eyes close in something like relief, and he presses a soft, uncertain kiss to your temple. It isn’t a triumphant moment, not the kind of romantic victory you might’ve once imagined. It’s tender, laced with guilt and fear. But it’s also real—genuine and fragile, the only piece of warmth you’ve had in a long time.

-

Things shift slowly, almost imperceptibly at first. You and Heeseung start keeping your distance whenever Evie’s around—no subtle hand-holding, no lingering touches, certainly no sneaking off to lock yourselves behind the nearest door. 

It’s not that you’re ashamed of each other; it’s that you can’t stand the thought of rubbing your relationship in her face. You both know you’re lucky she’s even letting you in the same room without storming out.

So you dial it back. You let your bodies stop running the show. 

It’s harder than you expect—he still sets your nerves on fire by simply looking at you—but you remind yourself that Evie’s feelings matter, that you owe her more than just half-hearted consideration. You give her space, which means giving yourselves space too. 

No sex. No heavy make-out sessions. No pressed-up-against-a-wall confessions. Just… time and gentle contact.

Heeseung seems as restless as you. 

Sometimes, when it’s late and you’re on a phone call—whispering so Evie won’t hear through the walls—he sounds downright desperate. 

You can hear his breath catch when you say you miss him, can practically feel the tension radiating through the receiver. 

Yet both of you agree: this is how it has to be for now. If you want Evie to believe that what you have is more than just an addiction to each other’s bodies, you need to show her you can exist outside a bed.

So you go on dates. Real dates. Movie theaters, yes, but also bookstore trips, late-night drives to nowhere, strolling through a local fair when it rolls into town. 

You hold hands only if you’re well away from Evie’s neighborhood—fearful that any small sign of affection might break the thin thread of tolerance she’s extended. 

The first time you walk along the riverside in the evening, sipping cheap coffee from a convenience store, it hits you that you’ve never really done this part before: the tentative, day-to-day romance of building a real relationship. It’s both comforting and nerve-wracking. 

You can feel the charge sparking under your skin every time he smiles at you, like you’re seconds away from losing your careful resolve. 

But you don’t. Neither of you wants to risk undoing the fragile progress with Evie.

And that progress is slow, but present. 

She doesn’t cringe as much when you and Heeseung enter a room together. 

She no longer flinches if you happen to stand on the same side of the kitchen.

 Maybe sometimes she rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t snap. You see the tension in her shoulders when you’re all in the same space, though—like she’s bracing for some new betrayal. 

You can’t blame her. You still offer to leave the moment you sense her discomfort rising. Surprisingly, she’s started telling you to stay.

But the real sign that things might be healing comes one weekend night when Evie texts you, out of the blue:

Girls’ night?

She doesn’t dress it up with a cute emoji or an explanation; it’s bare bones, almost clinical. And you stare at your phone with your heart hammering, wondering if this is a test, or maybe a begrudging olive branch. 

You answer with a shaky yes, and spend the next few hours trying not to read too much into it. You tell Heeseung you’ll be hanging out with Evie, and he just smiles—wide and genuine, telling you to have fun, to text him if you need anything.

Evie’s room hasn’t changed much since the night you snuck out of it to see Heeseung. The layout is the same, the posters the same, the bedspread the same. It all feels loaded with history. 

She sits cross-legged on her bed, handing you a soda—no alcohol tonight, no false bravado. You sense she wants you both stone-cold sober for whatever might be said. 

There’s an awkward pause, and then she gestures for you to sit, too.

For a while, conversation comes in bursts: updates about random classmates, stories from her day at work, small talk about the show you both used to binge-watch together. It’s stiff, but not hostile. 

She picks at her blanket, and you notice how she won’t hold your gaze for too long. Yet each minute that passes without snapping or bitterness feels like a victory.

Eventually, she slides a bag of nail polish across the bed toward you. “You, um… you still like doing this, right? It’s been a while,” she mumbles, glancing at your nails. 

It’s such a small gesture, but it makes your throat tighten. You nod, and she exhales something that might be relief. 

For a solid hour, the two of you paint and chatter, as if practicing how to be friends again. Her shoulders are less rigid. You’re careful not to misstep. Neither of you mentions Heeseung.

At least not directly. But you feel his presence in the air, the unspoken pivot point around which your every interaction revolves. It’s only when Evie finally fixes you with a long, assessing look, half-concern and half-uncertainty, that the moment arrives.

“Are you two, like… okay?” she asks. Her voice is laced with discomfort, but there’s no hatred in it. “You said no more sneaking around. But are you—happy?”

You swallow hard, carefully blowing on your newly painted nails. “We’re… doing our best,” you say. “Trying to be good for each other. Not just physically.”

She nods, lips twisting like she’s turning over your words in her mind. “I guess… that’s what I wanted to know,” she admits softly. “It still weirds me out sometimes, but I’d rather it matter to you than be some… fling.”

A wave of gratitude surges in your chest, making it hard to speak. You nod. “It matters,” you whisper. “I swear.”

She blinks a few times, then sets her nail polish aside. The tension in her shoulders relaxes just enough that her spine curves against the headboard, more comfortable than you’ve seen her in weeks. “Good,” she murmurs, tone stilted but earnest. “Don’t… don’t make me regret trying to rebuild this, okay?”

Your own shoulders slump in relief. “I won’t,” you promise. Your voice shakes with the weight of it. “And if I ever do, you can—and should—kick my ass.”

That draws a small, genuine laugh from her—a sound you haven’t heard in what feels like ages. She nods, letting the humor fill the space that was once suffocating with tension. “Deal,” she says.

You stay up later than expected—talking about nonsense, painting your nails in mismatched colors, occasionally lapsing into awkward silences. 

But each time, one of you breaks it before the air can go stale. By the time midnight rolls around, you’ve settled into a strange new normal: not quite what you were before the betrayal, but not strangers anymore. Something between you is mending, fragile but real.

When you leave, she walks you to the front door. It’s still weird, stepping out into the hallway where so much damage happened. 

But Evie’s behind you, not in front, and you can’t help feeling that the dynamic has changed in a way that actually might last. You glance back at her, and though she still looks tired, she doesn’t look hostile or betrayed. Maybe just… cautious. It’s enough.

“Night,” she says, one hand resting on the doorknob.

“Night,” you reply, voice quiet. “Thanks, again.”

She nods and closes the door gently behind you—no slamming, no huffing. Just a simple, private goodbye.

 As you slip into the night, you realize you’re smiling, mind already whirring with what you’ll tell Heeseung when you see him next. You catch yourself wondering if you’ll meet up for another date soon. Or if you’ll just call him on the way home, excitedly spilling the details of your slow but tangible progress with Evie.

-

The new place is barely furnished. A couch that’s still covered in plastic. A mattress on the floor. Takeout containers littering the kitchen counter. The floorboards creak with every step. The windows are wide open, and there are no curtains yet. It’s not home—not really—but it’s his. 

And most importantly, it’s finally, blessedly, fucking private.

When he opens the door and lets you in, he doesn’t kiss you right away. He just watches you step inside like you’re something he’s trying to memorize. His hands stay in the pocket of his hoodie. His jaw’s tight. His eyes flicker to the bag in your hand, then to your shoes, then up your legs so slowly it makes you feel exposed even though you’re still fully dressed.

You don’t say anything at first. You set the wine down on the counter. You take in the space—empty and echoing—but your skin’s already buzzing. You hear the door close behind you with a soft click, and something shifts.

He clears his throat.

“I haven’t kissed you yet,” he says, voice low. “Not really.”

You turn to look at him. “No.”

There’s a beat.

“Can I?”

You nod.

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

His hands are on your face before you can blink, warm and rough and needing. The kiss starts soft, but only for a breath. Then it turns—hungry, desperate, filthy. Your back hits the counter with a thud, his tongue already in your mouth, his body pressing into yours like he’s trying to crawl inside you through your lips.

You moan into him, and he groans, deep in his throat, like the sound broke whatever shred of self-control he was hanging onto.

“You have no idea,” he pants, mouth hot against your jaw, “how long I’ve wanted to ruin you in peace.”

Your shirt’s pulled up before you can answer, his mouth already sucking marks down your neck. His hands are everywhere—gripping your tits through your bra, unbuttoning your jeans, fingers slipping into your waistband like he owns the place. Like he owns you.

You gasp as his hand slides between your legs, cupping you through your underwear, his breath catching when he feels the heat there.

“Already wet?” he mutters, voice ragged. “Fucking knew it.”

He yanks your jeans down to your ankles, then sinks to his knees on the kitchen tile without another word. His hands push your legs apart, pulling one up to rest over his shoulder. And when his mouth presses to the soaked fabric of your panties, you cry out—sharp, helpless, needy.

“You wore these knowing I’d take them off with my teeth, didn’t you?” he growls, dragging the fabric aside with his nose, his tongue already lapping through your folds like he’s been waiting for this for months.

You can barely breathe. One hand flies to the counter for balance, the other fists in his hair. He licks you with obscene, wet sounds, groaning into your pussy like the taste is sending him over the edge. You grind against his face shamelessly, whining when he flattens his tongue and drags it up through your slit, over and over again.

“Fuck, Heeseung—please—”

He pulls back just enough to spit directly on your clit. “What do you need, baby?” he pants, thumb spreading it around with tight, deliberate pressure. “You want me to make you cum with my mouth like a good little whore? Is that it?”

You nod frantically, hips rocking against his hand.

“I missed this pussy,” he mutters, diving back in. “Missed how fucking loud she is.”

And she is. Your pussy’s wet, sloppy, noisy, every flick of his tongue echoing off the bare walls. You cum hard, legs shaking around his shoulders, crying out his name as your vision blurs.

But he’s not done.

He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then grabs you by the waist and turns you around, bending you over the counter.

“No more pretending,” he growls in your ear. “No more quiet. You’re gonna scream for me this time.”

He pulls your panties down and spreads you open, groaning like a man unhinged.

“God, you’re dripping. You fucking missed this too, didn’t you?”

You try to answer, but he’s already stroking his cock against your folds, rubbing the head through the mess between your legs, smearing it everywhere.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Yes—yes, I missed it—fuck, Heeseung, I missed your cock—”

He sinks into you in one sharp, brutal thrust, and you wail.

No condom. No pause. Just the stretch of him filling you up in one smooth, devastating stroke.

“Oh my God,” he groans. “You’re fucking swallowing me.”

You’re moaning, writhing, drooling onto the counter. He doesn’t start slow. He doesn’t give you time. He fucks you—relentless, pounding, like he’s been waiting to do this since the moment you first touched him.

Your ass slaps against his thighs with every thrust. Your pussy is loud, the kind of wet, messy squelch that would embarrass you if you could think.

He slaps your ass hard, making you jolt forward. “Listen to her,” he growls. “She’s been crying for me.”

You don’t stop him. You beg for more.

He grabs your arms and pulls you back onto him, using your own body to fuck you harder.

“Keep taking it,” he snarls. “Be my good little cumrag, just like you used to be.”

You scream. You scream for him.

You cum again, sobbing into the crook of your arm, your entire body trembling.

He pulls out and flips you around, lifts you up onto the counter again, and kisses you like he’s devouring you from the inside out. Your legs are trembling so hard you can barely hold them up, but he spreads them open and spits straight onto your cunt, rubbing it in with two fingers, moaning when you jolt at the sensitivity.

“Wanna fuck you on the floor next,” he mutters against your lips. “Wanna fuck you on the mattress, on the couch, against every wall. Wanna ruin this apartment with the sound of your pussy screaming for me.”

You grab his face, breath ragged. “Then do it.”

He throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the mattress on the floor, where he fucks you in every position he’s ever imagined. He keeps you cockdrunk and leaking. When your voice gives out, he fucks you in silence. When your legs stop working, he props them up and keeps going. And when he finally cums—inside you, deep, claiming—he doesn’t pull out.

He just collapses on top of you, both of you drenched in sweat and slick and the aftermath of something feral.

You can’t move.

You don’t want to.

You just lie there, shaking, full, used, satisfied in a way that makes you dizzy.

Heeseung kisses your shoulder and whispers against your skin.

“I’m never being patient again.”

-

The mere thought of being away from you for too long is enough to send him into a spiral, and you barely even realize the effect you had on him. His naturally clingy nature raised no concerns to you; in fact, you relish in his borderline unhealthy infatuation with you — seeing as your previous boyfriend of ten months disappeared on a random Tuesday afternoon, leaving nothing behind but a note claiming he needed to start a new life.

The week of Park Jongseong’s sudden disappearance was agonizing. Yes, he assured everyone he was okay and simply was moving onto a new chapter in his life, and that no one drove him to make such a rash decision, but something about the situation didn’t sit well with you.

Jongseong wasn’t impulsive in the slightest, and you would argue he was one of, if not the most, mature, level headed men you’ve dated. He was distant at times which often felt unsettling, but had his reasonings and assured you he couldn’t have been happier in the relationship. That was one of your favorite things about Jongseong, how he always knew just what to say to calm your nerves, and how he always had a rational explanation for everything.

Running away so suddenly was out of character for him, and a part of you feared that, despite the note left behind, there was something malicious going on that led to his disappearance.

Your older sister, Yeji, had just given birth and was in the midst of planning her wedding, while your parents deemed themselves as “too busy to deal with your issues”, leaving you to become a shell of yourself without having anyone to confide in. Days turned into weeks of you locking yourself in your apartment, typing your ex boyfriend’s name into the search bar over and over, hoping something new would pop up; but nothing ever did.

After a long, tiring day of Zoom meetings and doing more research on Jongseong, your eyes had begun to flutter shut when a knock on your front door wakes you. Expecting it to be your Doordash driver dropping off a greasy, million calorie cheeseburger and a can of soda, you yell out to leave it at the front door. The knocking persisted, and with a sigh, you dragged your feet all the way to the front door, certainly shocked at the man that stood before you.

You don’t even give him the chance to explain himself before you’re asking, “Why do you look familiar?”

He grins at you, absentmindedly drumming his fingers against the cardboard box in his hands. “Unless you’re a book lover we probably don’t know each other; I’m a manager of a bookstore downtown, I’m there all the time.”

“Is it… Brookhaven? You guys have K-pop albums too, right?”

“Book-haven,” he corrects you with a polite nod, “and, yeah, we have albums. Have you been to the shop?”

“A few times.” You mumble, suddenly feeling very self conscious of your outfit choice. With the option to have your camera off during the Zoom meetings, you felt no desire to get dressed for the day, opting to work in your oversized sweatshirt and sleep shorts. 

The unnamed man wore casual clothing — a grey North Face jacket atop a black t-shirt and white cargos — yet, you felt completely underdressed in comparison to him. His gaze was piercing yet gentle, like he carried a certain confidence about himself in a way that didn’t come off as cocky or arrogant. Though, you really couldn’t blame him if he were the conceited type; he was definitely an attractive man.

The silver chain on his neck had been paired perfectly with matching earrings, including a silver hoop on his helix. His hair, though likely not his natural color, suited him perfectly; the subtle curls and waves giving him a classic, boyish look with bangs that fell just beneath his eyebrows.

You clear your throat, gesturing towards the package in his hands, “Are you dropping this off?”

“Yes! Uh, FedEx dropped off some packages at my store yesterday and it looks like this must’ve gotten mixed in,” he explains, extending the package towards you, “I tried calling the number on the label yesterday but no one answered, so I’m just swinging by to drop it off.”

You accept the package, rolling your eyes at the mixup. “FedEx is always doing bullshit.”

He lets out a dry chuckle, “Trust, I’m fully aware. The driver for our block is this old-ass man; I once caught him asleep in his truck.”

You laugh a little too loud at this, inwardly cringing at yourself afterwards as you tuck the package beneath your arm. “Well, thanks for bringing my package…?” You trail off, hoping he’ll complete your sentence by offering you his name.

“Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.”

“Thank you, Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.” You repeat, earning a grin from him.

“No worries,” he responds, fishing something out of his pocket, “and feel free to stop by the store sometime, especially now that you have a coupon.” He says, offering you the small slip of paper from his pocket.

You accept it, eyes widening at the “BOGO FREE KPOP ALBUM” staring back at you. “I…is this real? You really don’t have to.”

Heeseung shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, “It’s no big deal, I keep coupons on me to hand out, anyway. Plus, we’re trying to make room for more stock.” He says, slowly walking backwards down the hall as he inches away from your door. Like a magnet, your body automatically angles towards him, hoping he’ll say something else.

“You’ll just have to request a manager when you’re ready to use it, regular associates can’t process certain coupons under their employee number.”

You nod, free-hand gripping the doorframe as your eyes follow Heeseung, “What days do you work?”

He shrugs again, “Doesn’t have to be me, I have two assistant managers that are there pretty often.”

“Right, but, when are you there?”

He pauses, titling his head at you before responding, “Monday through Friday, eleven-to-eight. Sometimes I stop by once or twice on the weekends to check in.”

“Will you be there tomorrow?”

“All day, eleven-to-eight.”

The following morning, you had the sudden urge to buy a K-pop album and get another one for free.

Heeseung had spent a good portion of that morning conversing with you from behind the counter, listening intently when you got on the topic of your previous boyfriend’s disappearance. It’s still a touchy subject for you, and probably not the best thing to talk about while getting to know a guy you’re interested in, but Heeseung’s question on how “such a pretty girl” like you was single required a truthful answer. Initially, you feared your response of “my boyfriend went missing” would be enough to scare him off, but Heeseung didn’t seem phased in the slightest.

In fact, in the two-and-a-half months you’d been dating Heeseung there was almost nothing you could say or do that would phase him to the point of genuine concern. Not how it took an insane amount of motivation for you in order to clean your apartment (he was fine cleaning it himself), or how often you’d forget to take your very much needed medication (he was more than happy to remind you every morning and night, and even went as far as requesting a refill when the bottle was nearly empty and picking it up for you). Catering to your every need was just another simple task for him, and you’re more than grateful that the universe seemingly dropped him right in your lap when you needed it most.

Heeseung was patient, understanding, and was absolutely devoted to your relationship. In his eyes, you deserved nothing but the best, and was keen on making sure to provide for you. 

Cooking for you was probably his favorite task. He wasn’t the best at it per se, but improved with every attempt, and you seemed to enjoy his meals despite them not being to his liking.

He’d woken up early this morning to prepare a Valentine’s day breakfast for you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead as he slipped out of bed and into your kitchen. The original plan was to go all out and cook a ridiculous breakfast feast he’d seen on TikTok that featured cinnamon rolls, sausage, and fluffy pancakes.

He burnt the first batch of cinnamon rolls and decided it best to simplify your feast down to eggs, bacon, and french toast sticks. Slightly disappointed that his original plan didn’t work out, your boyfriend sighs at himself as he pours a glass of cranberry juice before setting it on a wooden tray table. How he made it to your bedroom without dropping everything was beyond him, considering how he was still weak from sleep and could hardly keep his eyes open.

Heeseung pushed the door open with his foot, peeking his head in slightly and furrowing his brows at your sleeping figure. If not from the noise of clattering dishes, he was almost certain the smell of food would be enough to wake you up. He knew you were a heavy sleeper, but never realized how heavy.

“How are you still asleep?” He mumbles to himself with a sigh, setting the tray of food on your desk before retreating to your bed. He digs his knee into the edge of the  mattress, gently shaking your leg in an attempt to wake you. You don’t budge, your slumber remaining unaffected as the sounds of your light snoring continue to fill the room. His fingers trail down your leg until they reach the sole of your foot, his fingernails softly tickling the sensitive area until you’re jerking your leg away in discomfort.

“Weirdo.” You say through a yawn, angling your body until you’re laying on your side.

Heeseung rolls his eyes at your insult, grabbing ahold of your leg as he responds, “A true weirdo would’ve put their mouth on it, you’re lucky it’s just me. Now get up, I made breakfast.”

Waking you up was no easy task, whether it was seven in the morning or half past noon. Heeseung suspects you’re still recovering from sleep debt after all the nights you’d spent lying awake researching Jongseong’s disappearance. The nights you could sleep didn’t typically didn’t last long; it’d either take hours until you finally drifted off, or you’d wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare; leaving you unable to go back to sleep.

Your sleep schedule hadn’t gotten back on track until you met Heeseung, who made sure you were taking melatonin, iron pills, and just about anything that would help you sleep soundly and feel less tired during the day. And while the extra supplements may be working, there was still a lot of sleep debt you were recovering from; an almost concerning amount that made it difficult for you to get up most days.

You groan into your pillow when the smell of Heeseung’s freshly made breakfast hits your nose, your mouth nearly salivating from the scent alone. As much as you wanted to sit up and start eating, your limbs were still heavy with exhaustion. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be up,” you plead, “I promise.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “Y/N,” he whines, “just get up, I wanna spend time with you before work. You can go back to sleep after I leave.”

Today was the release day of author, Shin Ryujin’s, newest sapphic romance novel that Heeseung could not remember the title of; just that it featured a lot of smut, has over twenty-four chapters, and was highly anticipated. Her team had reached out to Bookhaven not too long ago, inquiring about hosting a Q+A session and book signing event on the day of its release. Initially, Heeseung had planned to reject the offer since it fell on Valentine’s day and that type of event required his presence, and he’d originally planned on spending the entire day with you. The payout of said event, however, was more than enough to get him on board.

He’d be leaving the shop and heading over to you around five, and have Sunoo or Jungwon close up, leaving him with just seven hours with you that he’d planned to make the most of. All he needed now was for you to wake the hell up before he has to leave.

You still don’t budge, mumbling something incoherent before the snores resume and you’ve drifted back to sleep.

“Babe,” he says flatly, shaking your leg. “Y/N. Baby. Dude, get up.”

Still nothing, and Heeseung’s on the verge of kissing your forehead and calling it a day, but there is one thing that could get you up.

Slowly, he peels the thick comforter off of your body, relishing in the fact that you chose to sleep in one of his shirts. Allowing himself further onto the mattress, Heeseung’s hand reahes for the hem of your shirt, pushing it up just enough to reveal your lavender colored panties. He pauses, glancing up at you momentarily before lowering his head and nestling it between your thighs.

He starts off slow, placing a light kiss on your inner thigh before trailing his lips upwards. Pausing right at your hip bone, Heeseung’s fingertips move to the core of your underwear, lightly scratching at your cunt through the soft material. Frustrated, he whines your name once more before slowly trailing your panties down and off your legs, discarding of them on the other side of the mattress.

Fingernails digging into your flesh, he grips your thighs as he repositions himself at eye level with your cunt, inching forward slowly until he’s pressing his lips right against yours. It’s gentle at first, much like how he’d kiss you any other time, a few gentle pecks until he was desperate for more.

Heeseung tilts his head slightly, and finally has his tongue fall flat against your entrance. The groan that escapes his mouth from the contact comes from deep in his chest, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped indents on your thighs from how hard he’s gripping them.

He licks a long, slow strip along your cunt upwards towards your clit, licking and sucking at the bud as if savoring the feeling of your taste on his tongue. He repeats his movements a few more times, growing desperate as the seconds pass by, each moan and whine from him becoming more desperate and whiny than the last. You shift around slightly, furrowing your brows a bit, but still not fully awake.

Another minute passes by and you’re still asleep. Your body automatically responding to Heeseung’s touches, but they’re still not enough to wake you. He’s not bored in the slightest, though, and would argue that he could probably go on for hours if that’s what it took; but he has to leave soon, and needs you awake as soon as possible.

With a sigh, he kisses your thigh once before twisting his body and reaching over to your nightstand, opening the bottom drawer and digging around slightly until his fingers brush against the rubber vibrator he’d been searching for. It’s an air pulsing one you’d bought before you’d met Heeseung, and when he’d discovered it in your room for the first time, he’d insisted on implementing it into your sex lives as much as possible.

He turns it on, choosing to keep it on the first setting before pressing it directly on your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the contact, with Heeseung keeping his gaze fixed on your face. Gently massaging the toy against your cunt, your eyes slowly began to flutter open, a loud moan echoing through the room as Heeseung turned the toy up to a medium setting.

You grab a fistful of Heeseung’s hair, yanking him forward until his mouth is on your cunt again. The sudden roughness takes him by surprise, but he doesn’t seem to mind it in the slightest; in fact, he can feel himself stiffening in his boxers from you gripping his hair alone.

Moaning into your cunt, Heeseung does his best to keep the vibrator pressed against you while he eats you out. His desperation was astonishing, his moans nearly being as loud and whiny as yours as he continued.

When you’re finally close, which doesn’t take very long; Heeseung discards the vibrator completely; mindlessly tossing it on the floor to lap at your cunt with his tongue. He presses it flat against you, dragging your wetness up to your clit before sucking the swollen bud between his lips.

You orgasm almost instantly at that, trapping Heeseung's head between your thighs as you come on his face with your back arching off the bed and swears pouring from your lips.

You’re panting as you come down from your high, breath rigged as you drape your arm against your forehead, “Wow.”

“You okay?” Heeseung asks, voice muffled as you finally release his head was still trapped between your thighs.

“Shit,” you loosen the grip, “sorry, Hee.”

“Don’t apologize. Oh my God, I could’ve died like that and would’ve been okay with it.”

Weirdly enough, you don’t think he’s joking.

“Anyways,” he continues, “you okay?”

You nod, pressing your lips into a thin line, “I’m definitely up.”

“Yeah, me too,” He responds, tapping on his painfully hard erection. “Can I…?”

“If you do all the work, sure.”

Heeseung scoffs, already moving to tug his pajama pants down, “As if I ever let you do any of it.”

It’s not a complaint, Heeseung was more than happy being the more assertive one when it came to your sex life. He didn’t mind doing most of the work as long as it meant you were getting off.

When he turns you to lay on your side you let him, resting your back against his chest as he teases his tip at your entrance. You bite down on your bottom lip, hand gripping the bed sheets when he finally does slide himself in. Heeseung grunts into your ear, placing a gentle hand on your hip, “ ‘m gonna go a little bit fast, okay? We don’t have a lot of time.”

He wasn’t exaggerating, either.

At your confirmation, Heeseung pulled out of you entirely before pushing himself back in; his thrusts overwhelmingly fast but not painful or rough. You yelp when he bites down on your neck, though, a habit he picked up upon finding out you enjoy being marked up.

He was certain that neither of you will last long like this, so it doesn’t surprise him that after a few minutes you’re already creeping up on your orgasm. Heeseung takes this as a sign to speed up his already quick thrusts, his nails digging into your hip as he presses his head onto your shoulder.

You finish first with Heeseung just a few seconds behind you, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of him filling you up with his cum. As always, he keeps his dick buried in you for another minute longer, only pulling out when he’s reminded of how little time he has.

Sitting up, Heeseung moves a few stray strands of hair out of the way to plant kisses on your face, but you stop him with the excuse of not having brushed your teeth yet before he’s able to properly kiss you on the lips.

He scoffs, “You just came on my face, do you think I care if you have morning breath? Don’t insult me.”

“At least let me eat first so I can get this weird taste out of my mouth,” you counter, reaching over your shoulder to pat Heeseung on the cheek. “Can I do that?”

Heeseung lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, “If you insist. Let me clean you up first, though.”

He stands from the bed, awkwardly pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up before excusing himself to your bathroom. He takes care of himself first before running a rag under the sink faucet and returning to your bedroom.

After cleaning you up with practiced ease, Heeseung discards of the rag in your bathroom hamper and slips back into your bedroom, finally delivering you the breakfast in bed he’d been anticipating all week, a wide grin on his face as he sets the wooden tray down on your lap. “All your favorites: french toast sticks, bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, and a glass of cranberry juice. Bone apple teeth.”

You chuckle at his joke, admiring the feast laying in your lap as you grab a strip of bacon, “Where’s your food?” You ask, noticing there was only enough servings for one person.

Heeseung shakes his head, resting the palm of his hand on your bare knee as he sits across from you, “I’ll pick up something on the way to work, didn’t have time to make enough for both of us.”

With a pout, you take a bite of the bacon strip, “Now I feel bad.”

Heeseung grins, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “Don’t, consider this part one of your Valentine’s gift.”

You’ve finished the first strip by now, moving onto the second one as you use your free hand to retrieve your phone from the nightstand. “Well, at least let me pay for your breakfast then.”

He shakes his head at you, reaching for your phone that you manage to pull out of reach. “Babe, you seriously don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you respond, halfway through Venmo-ing him fifteen dollars, “that should be enough.”

“Y/N…”

“Done! And don’t send it back or else I’ll be really sad, you know gift-giving is my love language.”

He chuckles, using the fork and knife on the tray table to cut a piece of the french toast stick, “Thank you, baby. You spoil me.” He dips the fork into the container of maple syrup before bringing it up to your parted lips, cupping his hand underneath to prevent the syrup from dripping onto the bed sheets.

You hum, cupping Heeseung’s face as you chew, “Anything for my princess. Also, you said this was part one of my gift?”

Heeseung nods, cutting another square off the french toast, “Part two is still later tonight, once I’m off work.”

“Can you tell me what it is now, please?” You plead, clasping your hands together as you jutt out your bottom lip, staring up at him with a pout. For the past week, Heeseung had been teasing about this big Valentine’s day surprise he had planned for you, claiming it would be the “surprise of a lifetime”.

He hums, feeding you another forkful. “I’ll tell you this, when you have the time, you’re gonna have to pack an overnight bag.” Your eyes light up, waiting patiently before speaking as Heeseung continues, “And, you’re gonna have to be dressed up once I pick you up after work. Nothing crazy fancy, just… something nice.”

Heeseung can tell you want to bombard him with more questions, and brings another forkful of food to your lips before you have the chance. “I’ll be picking you up around five-forty-five, ‘m sorry I’ll have to be at the shop most of the day.”

You shake your head, picking up the glass of cranberry juice, “Don’t be, I hope the event goes well. If you have extras, can you bring me a copy of the book?”

“For sure, and I’ll see if I can leave any sooner so we have some extra time together.”

“You seriously don’t have to,” you assure him, taking a sip of your drink, “besides, I have some errands to run in the meantime.”

Heeseung raises a brow at you, “Oh? You’re going out today?”

You nod excitedly, setting the cup on your nightstand, “Yeji and I are taking the baby to a Mommy-and-Me yoga class then doing some shopping.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at the mention of your sister, setting the fork and knife back onto the tray table. You frown at him, shoulders slouching as you tilt your head, “Why do you hate my sister so much?”

“I never said I hated Yeji.”

“You didn’t have to, it’s pretty obvious. You never wanna talk to her when she’s around and you roll your eyes whenever I mention her.”

Heeseung shrugs, “She’s just not my cup of tea, is all. Our personalities clash.”

Of course there’s more to it than clashing personalities, but you’re not quite ready for the full truth just yet, so he decides to leave it at that. “Anyways, how are Jake and Jihan?”

Your eyes light up at the mention of your future brother-in-law and nephew, “I talked to Yeji yesterday and she said things are good! Jihan is starting to roll over and Jake plans on asking his friend, Sunghoon, to be his best man. Oh, and Yeji says the baby is finally starting to look like Jake.”

“Really?”

You nod, “Mmhm, Jake is so happy.”

“Good for him,” Heeseung mumbles, watching as you take a bite of the eggs. “Gonna have to head out now, but I loaded my card onto your Apple Wallet, ‘kay? Use that while you shop.”

You blink at him, “When’d you do that?”

“Last night, consider it part one-and-a-half of your gift.”

“You spoil me.”

Heeseung grins, “Anything for you.”

The drive to Bookhaven is quiet, with Keshi playing from the stereo as Heeseung made his way to the shop and parked by the employee entrance.

Stepping right into a pile of snow, he shuts the car door behind him before making his way across the street and stopping by his favorite breakfast cafe, Heaven’s Treats. He ordered his usual: two bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches on croissants and two bottles of water; using your fifteen-dollar Venmo gift to pay and tipping the staff with a few dollars cash.

He heads back over to his shop afterwards, unlocking and entering through the employee entrance. Once inside, he unlocks his office door first, setting the bag of food down on his desk before heading into the main area of the shop. Taking a few minutes to wipe down tables and put away loose books, Heeseung hums to himself as he enjoys how quiet and peaceful the shop is. Shin Ryujin was sure to bring in a crowd later today, and he can already tell he’d be leaving the shop with a headache.

Once finished, Heeseung retreats back to his office and shuts the door behind him, grabbing the bag of food from the desk before walking over to the closet door. With a sigh, he opens it up, pushing the file cabinet to the side to reveal the door to the hidden basement. His eyes jot down to the keypad under the doorknob, where he quickly types in your anniversary before twisting the knob and pushing the door open.

Staring down at the wooden staircase, Heeseung sighs once again, “Let’s get this over with.”

Carefully, he retreats down the steps and into the basement, looking over into the glass chamber and finding Jongseong, your ex boyfriend, sound asleep on his mattress. Heeseung chuckles once he’s made it down the stairs, walking over to the pass-through attached to the glass chamber and opening it, sliding in the breakfast sandwich and bottle of water before shutting it with a loud click!

Heeseung retreats over to his desk and computer monitors that sat opposite of the glass chamber, sitting on his office chair before grabbing and turning on the intercom microphone. “Sleeping in?”

His voice comes out ten times louder in the glass chamber’s speaker, jolting Jongseong out of his sleep as he presses the palms of his hands onto his ears. “Jesus fuckin’… is the intercom necessary?! You’re right there! I can hear you through the glass!”

Heeseung shrugs nonchalantly, setting the microphone back on the desk, “You’re a heavy sleeper.” Jongseong sighs in response, rubbing his eyes as Heeseung continues, “Brought you breakfast, it’s in the pass-through. Eat before it gets cold.”

“How do I know you didn’t do something to it? Sick fuck.” Jongseong spits, arms folded across his chest as he stares at Heeseung through the glass.

“Do something like what?”

“I don’t know, spike my drink like last time?”

Heeseung lets out an agitated groan as he slumps in his chair, retrieving his own food from the takeout bag as he responds, “How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t fucking drug you that night? You actually made everything a lot easier by getting blackout drunk at a fucking nightclub.”

“Yeah, and if I didn’t blackout? Then what?”

“Who cares? It doesn’t matter, what matters is that you’re away from Y/N.”

Jongseong shivers at the mention of your name, immediately looking away from Heeseung and focusing his attention on the food in the pass-through.

Around six months ago, you’d showed up to Bookhaven hand-in-hand with Jongseong, and Heeseung had been enthralled with you ever since. He spent is every waking moment doing his research on you, which included doing a deep dive on the people closest to you: your immediate family, close friends, and stupid fucking boyfriend.

Heeseung knew the moment he laid eyes on Jongseong that he was no good for you, and was clearly putting up a facade when the two of you were together. Heeseung saw right through it, how quickly he’d pull out his phone to snap a text when you were looking, how he’d roll his eyes whenever you got too excited about something, how he almost never responded to your PDA — he was the fucking worst, and you deserved so much better. You deserved Lee Heeseung.

Days leading up to Jongseong’s disappearance, Heeseung had been watching him like a hawk; cyber-stalking him as closely as possible without being caught, until, finally, Jongseong decided to go clubbing one night.

Heeseung’s original plan was to wait until Jongseong was slightly drunk and knock him out, but Jongseong getting blackout drunk on his own accord made things way easier for Heeseung — all he had to do was pretend to be a friend to Jongseong and convince everyone else he’d be getting him home safely.

Dumbasses, all of them.

Jongseong stands, scratching the back of his neck as he walks over to the pass-through.

“Anyways, it’s Valentine’s day,” Heeseung says after biting into his own sandwich, “you have any plans? Oh wait.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes again, mumbling “Fuck you” under his breath as he retrieves his food and drink. He inspects the sandwich thoroughly before taking a bite, chewing slowly as if trying to taste each and every spice and flavor.

“Wait,” Heeseung speaks, suddenly realizing something, “if you just woke up, that means you missed the show.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes a third time, already knowing what Heeseung was getting at. “I’m sure I didn't miss much.”

Heeseung swivels around in his office chair to face the three monitors, each one surveilling different areas in your apartment. You were blissfully unaware of the hidden cameras he’d set up in your home that have been recording your every move for months on end. He’s doing it for your own safety, really; keeping an eye on you at all times.

You’re in the kitchen now, loading up the dishwasher with music playing from your phone, stopping every few seconds to belt out the lyrics or make an attempt at doing the choreography. Heeseung enjoys watching you like this, when you truly get to be yourself because you think no one is around.

He grins, switching over to the center monitor and hitting the rewind button until he sees himself entering your bedroom, “There we go.” Heeseung monitors himself closely, watching as he sets the tray of food down on your desk before walking over to your mattress.

He moves out of the way so Jongseong has a better view of the screen, a smug expression on his face as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. The monitors were on at all hours, meaning the only entertainment Jongseong had was watching you stroll around your house. Weirdly enough, it pleases him to keep an eye on you like this, making sure you’re still okay after all this time.

He can do without watching you and Heeseung have sex, though.

Jongseong turns his head away the moment Heeseung removes the blanket from your body, groaning in disgust as he takes another bite from his sandwich. “I don’t need to see this.”

Heeseung shrugs, mumbling, “Your loss” as he speeds up the replay. He prefers to focus on the key moments anyway, like the face you make right before you come on his, or how your entire body tensed when he leaned down to bite on the nape of your neck.

As arousing as it was to play back all those moments, he primarily used it as a personal study guide on what you liked the most, so he’d be better at pleasing you going forward. This behavior had started before the two of you even got together, if he’s being completely honest. One simple, playful retweet from you about preferring to receive oral rather than give it had him ordering a pocket pussy the very next day to practice on.

The first time the two of you hooked up, Heeseung had spent approximately twenty-four minutes going down on you, only stopping when you expressed concerns about his jaw locking up — not that he cared.

“Wait a second,” Jongseong pauses, crumbling the empty food wrapper into a ball before tossing it to the floor, “what happened to that big breakfast feast you kept talking about, huh? With the, uh, the pancakes and cinnamon rolls?”

When Heeseung doesn’t respond, Jongseong continues taunting, “What, realized you couldn’t do it? That you can do something as simple as prepare a meal? Wow, are you—”

“Shut up, dumbass.” Heeseung interrupts him with a shake of his head, swiveling around in his office chair until he’s facing Jongseong, “You think you’re better than me because you know how to cook? Go on then, cook something. Go to the stove and prove you’re better at me than cooking.”

Silence falls between the two, with Jongseong glaring daggers at Heeseung as he tightens his fists.

“Oh, wait,” Heeseung continues, tapping his chin, “you can’t cook; you’re trapped in my basement while I fuck your girlfriend.“

“Whatever.”

“Oh, now it’s whatever, but just a second ago you were so much better than me for knowing how to cook — you also know how to lie and cheat.”

“Whatever, Heeseung, just drop it.”

“How do you think Y/N would feel if she found out you were cheating on her with her own sister? How old do you think Jihan will be before Jake realizes why they look nothing alike?” Heeseung questions, tilting his chin at Jongseong, as if expecting a legitimate answer.

The mere thought of Jongseong and your own sister getting together behind your back is enough to make Heeseung gag; he couldn’t fucking believe two of the closest people in your life would deceive you like that. It was beyond disgusting, and he had a strong distaste for Yeji the moment he found out.

Ashamed, Jongseong turn away from Heeseung’s gaze. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, turning around in his seat until he’s facing the monitors, “Anything involving Y/N is my business, fuck-face, including you and anyone else that bothers her.”

He navigates the surveillance controls until he’s back to watching you in real time, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile when he sees you facetiming someone. He shushes Jongseong, who hadn’t even been speaking, as he turns the volume up in order to hear you better.

“…and I think he looks just like you, seriously…Jake?…I mean, I don’t know…I’m not really seeing the resemblance yet…”

Realizing who you were talking to and what the topic of conversation was, Heeseung clicks his tongue, “They may even find out sooner than you think.”

The sound of Yeji’s voice through the speaker has him rolling his eyes as he turns down the volume, not that it mattered, considering you disappeared into the bathroom a few moments later.

“Hey,” Jongseong taps on the glass, “let me ask you something.”

“No.”

“Why do you have a camera in every room except the bathroom?”

It’s a genuine question, but it comes out more perverted than Jongseong had intended it to.

“I promise, I will not leave this room,” she assures him and he kisses her gently on the forehead. He leaves her side, reluctant as ever, pushing his way past the curtain.

His feet take him down from his tower, to the ground of the palace, all but running for the front hall. He can hear the echo of his brothers’ feet, all of them quickly converging on the courtyard at the front of the palace, the gates that are usually closed. He knows that when he gets there, they will not be. He knows that by the time he reaches the courtyard, it will be far, far too late for any of them. 

When they all reach the courtyard, the gates are hanging open, sparking golden and creaking in the wind. Jungwon can feel his heart in his throat, the ominous sound of them and the darkening sky causing goosebumps to arise across his flesh. 

“Heeseung’s home,” Sunoo whispers at his side. 

Regrettably, they know they have to find him and face him. And find him they do, in the grand hall, surrounded by the opulence they’ve all come to know. He’s sitting on the edge of the fountain, watching it fall from the tall spout, rolling over the edges into the pool below. Jungwon takes the lead, approaching him in front of all of them, knowing well exactly who he’s come to see. Heeseung smirks as soon as Jungwon is close, slowly lifting his gaze from the sparkling pool of water. 

His brother hasn’t changed at all, Jungwon can’t help but think, from the knowing glint in his dark eyes to the sheen of his silver hair, constantly draped in black. For all that Jungwon is the one who sent him there, he hoped that one day Heeseung would understand his decision, but he never has. Instead he sits opposite him, all of them, as though they are his enemies. Jungwon never wanted that, but it’s far too late. 

“What brings you home?” Jungwon asks. 

“You know very well what brings me home,” Heeseung says, getting off the edge of the fountain to face them, straightening himself out. He stands toe to toe with his younger brother, but Jungwon won’t back down. Not this time. “After all this time, I thought we had an understanding,” Heeseung says, faux sympathy coating his tone as he tilts his head. “I took your punishment very well, all things considered. The least you could do is continue to uphold the agreement we made. I am in charge of the balance of this world and yet you act without thought. I thought better of you, brother.” 

“It was never without thought. You can’t honest think⁠—” 

“What I honestly think of you is irrelevant,” Heeseung cuts him off. He rolls his eyes as he walks around Jungwon. Jungwon sighs heavily, turning around to keep his brother in his line of sight. He wouldn’t dare to not. “What I honestly think of any of you is irrelevant when you’ve all been acting so rashly. Impulsivity doesn’t suit any of you,” he says, his eyes running over his other brothers. Sunghoon clenches his hands while Jongseong’s jaw sets. “Well, except maybe you, Jaeyun,” he adds. Jaeyun’s eyes blaze and Heeseung laughs softly, turning around to face Jungwon again. “You know why I’m here.” 

“I know. And I’m prepared to make a deal,” Jungwon informs him. Heeseung laughs again, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“A deal? A bunch of mortals is enough for the King of the Gods to make a deal with me? What have they been putting in your offerings?” Heeseung mocks him. Jungwon glares back at him. “If you think I’m willing to make a deal based solely on the lives of six mortals, you’d be wrong.” A confused crease appears in Jungwon’s brow and Heeseung scoffs, throwing his head back. “Oh, you’ve no idea the things our brothers have done for their goddesses.” He lowers his head with a pitying gaze. “This is what you get for letting them run so wild.” He steps closer. “If I had been king, this never would’ve happened.” 

“Mother didn’t want you king,” Jongseong spits and Heeseung leans away from Jungwon, pursing his lips. “You think we’re uncontrollable? Nothing would’ve stopped you, and you know it.” 

“Because this is what we all wanted, is it?” Heeseung says, whipping around to glare at him. “The chance to throw our entire existence into question because you couldn’t control yourself?” He steps towards Jongseong. “A whole village, promised to me, and instead you promised it to her! You swore their safety, and for what?!” His eyes glow with black flames as he glares at Jongseong. “There are souls rotting in my library that should be on the river and are not. The balance of our lives is completely thrown. Her life is hardly the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what I deserve!” 

“Well, you won’t be getting it,” Jungwon says, his voice calm. Heeseung sighs, closing his eyes. “Any of them.” 

“If you’d like, we could always fight you again,” Sunghoon says and Heeseung’s eyes open, sliding to him. “You know you won’t win.” 

“I didn’t come here to be thrown into the abyss. Again,” he deadpans. “I came for what I’m owed. And if I will not have it,” he turns back to Jungwon, “an equal exchange is required.” 

“And what, pray tell, is equal in exchange?” Jungwon asks. 

“Well, that’s hardly up to me,” Heeseung replies. “After all, I’m sure to the six of you, your goddesses are priceless and perfect. I can place whatever price I want on them and it still would not equal in your eyes. And you know so well how much I value an equal exchange,” he drawls, causing Jungwon’s eyes to narrow. “So, you decide.” He closes the distance between himself and his brother who calls himself King once more. “I’ll give you… 24 hours to make a deal with me? At the end of the next 24 hours, if you all are still incapable of coming to a decision, I guess I’ll just have to take what I am owed.” Jungwon clenches his jaw and Heeseung smirks. “Think on it, brother. You’re smart, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” 

Heeseung leaves the grand hall, pushing through his other brothers, in a flutter of black and silver. Jungwon stumbles back against the fountain, gripping the edge of it as soon as Heeseung has gone. As with every interaction with his brother, he could feel the power that came off of him in waves, draining him. Were it not for all six of them working together in tandem, they never would’ve chained him to the underworld.

“What will you do?” Jongseong asks immediately, stepping forward. “You cannot give into him.” 

“It’s hardly about giving in,” Sunoo points out, causing Jongseong to turn his attention to him, though reluctant as he is. “He’s right.” Jongseong huffs, looking away from the Sun God though Sunoo looks at Jungwon imploringly. “There are mortal lives that he is owed due to the deals we made. We changed the course of history by not handing them to him. If we wish to keep the balance, we have to give him something.” 

“Would you like to give him your goddess first?” Jaeyun quips, his tone clipped. Sunoo turns to him with glowing, white eyes, barely restraining himself. Jungwon walks forward, gently touching Sunoo’s chest and his brother’s eyes slowly die back down to their amber warmth but his expression doesn’t change, nor falter from Jaeyun. 

“We cannot fight amongst each other if we want to come up with a solution,” Jungwon points out, his gaze swinging from Sunoo to Jaeyun, who looks away from Jungwon’s pointed gaze.

“What solution do we have?” Riki speaks and they all turn to their softest spoken brother. “Sunoo and I both saved our loves from death, Sunghoon and Jongseong entire villages for theirs. You and Jaeyun might be the only ones who’s goddesses didn’t cost a soul to save. What could possibly match the weight of that? You know how Heeseung is,” Riki says. He walks forward towards Jungwon, staring at him with wide, worried eyes. Jungwon’s hand falls from Sunoo’s chest with a heavy sigh. “He will weigh them, he will not just take our word. Just any deal will not appease him.” Riki shifts uncomfortably. “Heeseung will want something of value.” 

“Of all the things, we’ve indebted ourselves to our eldest brother,” Sunghoon mutters, shaking his head. “A fate worse than death.” 

To say that Heeseung didn’t know this would be a lie. He knows very well that there are very few things in this world, godly or otherwise, that will carry enough weight for what he asks for. He knows it and is quite glad to play such a game with his brothers. He knows they will flounder for a solution that does not exist, they will look for a way to weasel their way out of this exchange, this deal he’s so graciously bestowed upon them, only to come up short. He knows it and he will take great pleasure in every moment that they struggle with their own hubris. They are too prideful to admit it and he will make them watch as he takes every single one of their goddesses from them. 

In the meantime, he has no other choice but to bide his time in the palace. He could return home, the shackle of it weighs on him, reminding him that he’s not welcome here, but he refuses to let this chance pass him by. He will be a constant reminder to his brothers for the next 24 hours that their options are slim to none to save the lives of their loved ones. 

Its opulence chokes him. He can barely stand it, the way they live in such luxury while he spends his days surrounded by the gray, rushing waters of the river, forced to sit on the other side of it, watching souls come close but hardly ever do they make landing. He’s been forced to watch from afar for too long, though maybe it truly is better this way. Now he’s unsuited to this, the thin air, the sparkling white and gold of the place, everything. It’s enough to make him sick. 

When he retreats to the gardens it’s simply because he can’t stand to look at the wide expanse of white and gold before him anymore. It’s blinding and horrible, truly he does not understand how they all manage to be surrounded by such eyesores as these.. The gardens extend before him, lush and warm, almost enough to give him joy. Still, when he touches the hedges, they shrink from his fingertips, wilting and turning brown. Somehow he can’t find it in himself to be surprised, instead taking his hand away, folding them behind his back to wander around blindly. 

It’s while he’s in the garden that he hears it. The sound of singing, coming from deep within the gardens. There is something about the call of the voice from inside that draws him in. While the gardens, trees and bushes and flowers, grow thicker around him he’s forced to try and push his way through to see what is hiding inside. Despite the way the flora scrapes against his hands, retreating from his deathly touch, he does not stop. It is like he can’t stop himself as the trees encroach on him, when he sees it. Sees you. 

The river that falls down to earth from these heights lies beside you, rushing with clear water, the sound of which accompanies your voice. Heeseung thinks briefly of how sad you sound, like agony, like tragedy. He leans against the tree beside him, once he has passed the threshold of cloying flowers and shrubs, hardly giving the wilt of the bark any mind as he watches you sing, your fingers dipping into the water beside you. You’re wearing clothes of cream, a crown of flowers on your head. If he didn’t know any better, he would think you one of the goddesses his brothers have fallen so desperately for but you cannot be. Surely, none of them would’ve let you out of their sight, much less a place where he can find you so alone. 

You stop singing slowly, sighing to yourself once your voice trickles to a stop. Heeseung pushes off from the tree to approach you, knowing he walks silently, like the death that he embodies. There is something about you, the way the light hits your profile, lashing casting shadows down your cheeks from your forlorn expression. You don’t see him coming, your eyes focused on the water below you, until he’s crouched beside you. Almost as if sensing you’re no longer alone, you turn towards him. Finding him right beside you, your breath catches, jerking away from him.

“Heeseung,” you gasp. You lean away from him, trying to put space between yourself and the God of Death but Heeseung is faster, wrapping an arm around your middle. 

“Leaving so soon. When I don’t even know your name,” he teases you, a sharp smile pulling at his lips. You swallow, gripping his shoulders to try and push him off of you. “You have such a lovely voice, my dear,” he insists, holding you tightly, his other hand landing on the edge of the riverbed, keeping you imprisoned in his touch. “What could I do but come to you? What a beautiful Muse you are,” he whispers salaciously. With all your strength, you push him off of you, throwing yourself backwards. 

You land in the grass, rolling over to try and get away. Amused by your actions, Heeseung isn’t so easily deterred, dragging you back by your ankle. You yelp, pulling all the way back to him until you’re pinned beneath his body. He forces you onto your back, staring down at you. 

“How rude,” he admonishes you softly. You whimper, trapped beneath the elder god. You are hardly a goddess, just a Muse. Though you might be godly, imbued with immortality and powers, It means nothing in the face of the God of Death. He knows you cannot fight him off, forcing you to relent to him, fingers fisted in the front of his shirts as you squirm beneath him. “I know I hardly come off as approachable but to run off so quickly,” he mocks you, brushing the backs of his fingers over your cheek.

“Let me go. Jaeyun will⁠—” 

“My brother is spineless and childish, he’ll do nothing,” Heeseung hisses to you, knowingly. “Tell me your name and I’ll let you go, my dear. It is the least I deserve after such a rude display.” 

“Y-Y/N,” you stutter out and Heeseung smiles. He gets off of you, allowing you the ability to slip out from beneath him. You crawl away from him, curling into yourself once there is a bit of space between the two of you. Heeseung rolls onto his back, propped up on his elbows, looking at you. You catch your breath, avoiding his piercing gaze. 

“Well, what’re you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be running?” Heeseung goads you, making his eyes flash black and menacing. You swallow roughly around the lump in your throat. “Unless you aren’t really that scared of me,” he teases you, reaching out towards you. His fingertips brush your ankle, causing you to flinch away. “Muses, all the same. Jaeyun has always adored you, hasn’t he?” Heeseung comments. His fingertips still just barely graze your skin though you daren’t meet his gaze. You don’t see the softness in his expression. “Before his goddess, that is. Perhaps he’s grown tired of you?” He questions, bringing his gaze up from your ankle. Though you still don’t meet his gaze, he sees the way your expression drops, despondent once more like how he found you. “Is that why you’re alone? You poor, neglected thing…” he coos with faux sympathy, crawling towards you. You shuffle back, away from him, trying to curl up tighter, away from his reaching fingers. 

“Stop!” You bark, “you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Heeseung stops, falling back. “What’re you even doing here?” You finally lift your gaze to look at him. “Shouldn’t you be away, beneath the Earth, handling the dead? Isn’t that where you belong?” You remark, tone acidic. Heeseung sighs, collapsing back into the grass. You don’t miss the way it wilts beneath him, turning yellow. You watch with a sort of morbid curiosity as the God before you doesn’t even seem to notice. 

“Such a sweet, pretty thing and yet you speak with such sharp words.” He turns his head towards you, his silver hair falling into his dark eyes. You swallow, struck by how handsome he is. All your life, yours and the other Muses, you’ve heard Jaeyun spin tales of his eldest brother, how ugly he is. Perhaps it was just in personality, because you see nothing but beauty in his face. His gaze meets yours steadily behind the curtain of his hair. “Where I belong is such a harsh thing to say to me, don’t you think?” 

“It’s where you were sent,” you remind him, though your tone isn’t as hard as it was previously. “Where your brothers imprisoned you.” 

“A great many eons ago,” he confirms. “But I’m more powerful than them. Their gates are not indestructible, I am more than capable of coming to see them. Not forever,” he lets his head fall back against the ground once more, staring back up towards the sky, “but for short whiles. I’m sorry that my brother managed to leave that out.” 

“What brings you here now?” You can’t help but wonders, your own curiosities getting the better of you.

“I am owed something,” Heeseung admits to you. You tilt your head, not understanding. Heeseung smiles and then turns to you again, but his smile is hardly kind. “Not that it’s any of your concern, Muse. The tragedy of my life is hardly something for you to worry your pretty self with.” He rolls over to climb to his feet and you flinch away from him as he stands, brushing himself off. “I meant what I said,” he tells you, looking down at you. “Your voice is very beautiful.” You can’t help but be struck by the way he says it, almost kindly.

“Thank you,” you whisper. He departs shortly, leaving you alone. You curl your legs even closer to yourself, wrapping your arms around them. You can’t help the way your eyes follow him as he walks out, slipping between the trees until he disappears from view. 

On the other side of the garden, Heeseung pauses. He leans back against the trees, listening out for your voice. It doesn’t return though it echoes through his mind. When he lets his head drop back against the tree, he smiles softly to himself. Perhaps, just maybe, he was a bit hasty in his convictions. 

24 hours is hardly any time at all, they all know this, and by the time Sunoo is forced to raise the sun in the morning again, they’ve all talked themselves to death. The knowledge of what comes weighs heavily on their minds, as they know Heeseung will make the decision for them. They won’t simply allow it, they’ll sooner throw Heeseung back to his abyss than let him simply think he can take whatever he wants, but they all knew that this price might come. Even if they deny him, he will demand something of great value if not the souls he’s unable to attain. 

The sun has risen above the horizon when Heeseung lets himself back into the grand hall, a grin upon his face. Never has Jongseong felt such a strong urge to throw his brother back into the abyss from whence he came than by that look of utter satisfaction that is written across his expression. He stands before Heeseung can get too close, blocking him from getting closer to Jungwon. 

“Oh, are we fighting already, Jongseong? I knew you might grow tired of me but so soon?” Heeseung mocks him. 

“Your greed will be your downfall,” Jongseong warns him. Heeseung laughs in amusement. 

“Greed? I have greed because you are the one who made an agreement without giving it thought. I’m greedy because I am fulfilling the role that which you so graciously bestowed upon me, by the way,” he points out, causing Jongseong’s expression to tighten, “all those eons ago. If you would like me to step down from weighing the souls of mortals so that someone else may do it, I would gladly, but they must be weighed.” Heeseung leans towards him, his expression turning dark. “Everything must be in balance. I believe you were the one who insisted upon it.” 

“Tell us what you want,” Jungwon says, hopeful to avoid bloodshed. Heeseung leans away from Jongseong, stepping around his seething brother to approach where Jungwon remains seated. “Surely you know that we have nothing to offer you.” Heeseung smirks, clearly having expected such an admission. His other brothers won’t even look at him. “So name your price. Just know that it will not be their souls.” 

“That is what I asked for,” Heeseung reminds him and Jungwon glares up at him. “Theirs and all the mortals that you made the mistake of letting live. Those souls are crowding my shelves, I haven’t the room for the mistakes you have allowed to happen,” he insists, leaning menacingly towards his brother. “Prepared to make a deal with me, little brother? You are hardly meant to be king.” 

“Would you like to be thrown back into the river once more?” Sunghoon says, jumping to his feet. Heeseung looks to him, lifting a brow. “We may have made our mistakes, but you are hardly the God Jungwon is. Mother insisted upon your disposal, you should thank him for your life.” 

“Thank him, for an eternity of solitude?” He says, straightening up to face Sunghoon. “Well, let me drop to my knees!” Heeseung snarls. “How dare I expect to be treated as equal with you, at the very least? Without me, this world would’ve destroyed itself already. You should be thanking me!” He demands, eyes blazing. 

“Make your choice,” Jungwon demands, getting to his feet. Heeseung turns back to him and Jungwon’s eyes crackle with lightning. “But know that it will not be them. You may take the souls you so desire if that is really what you want. Let it consume you, your need for balance, but you will not have the goddesses.”

The blazing fire in Heeseung’s eyes extinguishes and he smirks. 

“You will do anything. Truly, it is almost admirable. Almost… romantic,” he comments, and Jungwon’s eyes become brown once more, surprised by his eldest brother’s tone, his consideration. “Let me offer you a deal then, brother,” Heeseung says, smirking. Jungwon’s brow creases in confusion, shifting slightly away, concerned for what Heeseung might propose. “The weight of a few mortals is far from that of a goddesses’ soul and we all know it. Especially six of them. However, I might be amenable to an exchange of another goddess.” 

“Whom do you ask for?” Jungwon asks. 

“Y/N,” Heeseung says, a smile on his lips. “Tragedy.” 

“You are shameless!” Jaeyun insists, getting to his feet. Jungwon glances away though and Heeseung knows Jungwon is considering it. “To take a goddess for another is low, even for you, brother. What makes you think⁠—” 

“I think,” Heeseung cuts him off, cutting him a look, “that the price of a lesser goddess is well worth it to you. After all, how much attention do those Muses even get with your adoration of yours?” He mocks him and Jaeyun clenches his fists at his sides. “Offer me thanks, Jaeyun, I am taking one off of your hands. You will have so much more time to waste in the arms of your lover.” 

“Why you⁠—” Jaeyun says, stepping towards him. Sunoo pulls on his wrist to stop him from advancing further on Heeseung.

“I cannot give her to you outright,” Jungwon says and Heeseung’s gaze swings to him. “She is a goddess, her soul has never been bound to the Earth. She must give it to you of her own volition. You must get her to agree,” Jungwon warns him and Heeseung nods, accepting the terms. He knows very well, after all. “However, if you manage it, she will be yours. You may have her as recompense.” 

“Jungwon,” Riki hisses but Jungwon won’t meet any of their eyes. 

“I knew you could be reasonable, Jungwon,” Heeseung says with a grin. “After all, you’re saving so many souls this way,” he mocks him, Jungwon closing his eyes against the guilt that eats at him. Heeseung then turns to Jaeyun, who is still burning with rage. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” He turns on his heel, leaving them. Only once he’s left the room does Sunoo finally let go of Jaeyun, who turns to Jungwon. 

“Do you know the things he might do to her?!” Jaeyun points out. “Heeseung will manipulate her, she will agree. Once she gives him her word, she’ll be trapped down there, his to own. How could you⁠—” 

“I did what I had to,” Jungwon finally says, voice soft. “I am hardly proud of it. So you best remember the choices we’ve been forced to make when you lie with your lovers tonight.” 

“It’s like you’ve not even left,” Heeseung says, startling you. You thought for sure that he would’ve left by now, but he edges through the trees and bushes to approach you, your eyes darting between him and the way the nature seems to shrink away from his touch, turning yellow and brown when he brushes against it only to turn green and lush once he passes it. It saddens you, though not for the reasons one might expect. Your eyes land on him when he gets to you, kneeling beside you on the ground. “Perhaps I’m just lucky.” 

“Why’re you still here?” You ask and he laughs softly. 

“Blunt, aren’t you?” Heeseung asks and you shrug, looking away from him, your fingertips dipped into the river. He leans towards you, almost touching you as he watches the river rush past your fingertips. “So strange,” he whispers and you resist the urge to jump at how close his voice is, “seeing water such as this. I’m not particularly familiar with water so clear you can see the bottom.” 

“The Sanzu must be very different to this,” you whisper and Heeseung’s eyes focus on you instead of the river. 

“It is,” he whispers. His hand touches your waist gently. He watches you shiver but you don’t look at him. “The waters are so deep and fast, nearly uncrossable in most places. I watch souls attempt to cross through its snake infested waters all the time. Watch as they’re dragged beneath the waves.” A chill creeps over your body. “But most are afforded the bridge. The ones that are allowed the ford, they are few and far between.” 

“Can a river like that truly have a ford?” You ask, turning to look at him. You jerk back, surprised to see him so close. 

“The Sanzu is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Trust me, you’d be amazed by it,” Heeseung tells you, lifting his free hand to your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I think it’s rather unfortunate you’ve never seen it. Given that you are tragedy after all.” You hold your breath, trying to remain unaffected but he can see the surprise in your eyes. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? There are so few who understand sadness and agony like me, after all. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to your voice,” his fingers brush over the roundness of your cheek. 

“What do you want?” You ask, trying to swallow down your fear. You know the whispers, what people say about Heeseung, that he is more than just a God of Death. He knows very well what he is, what kind of powers he possesses. It cannot be a coincidence that he might come back to you, speaking to you with such kindness. Not after he trapped you beneath him, forcing your compliance. 

“I should’ve figured you would see right through me,” Heeseung sighs. “I have a proposition for you, pretty. A deal that you might… be willing to take, if you’re as kind as I believe you to be.” You watch him and his eyes meet yours slowly. “You see, I was owed something, something that brought me here. That something was a few very precious souls that my brothers… well, they’d do just about anything to avoid giving them to me.” 

“Who do they belong to?” You whisper. 

“Their goddesses,” Heeseung tells you and your eyes widen in surprise. “Before they were brought here, they were just mortals. Simple, and unknowing. And I’m sure you’re well aware that souls of mortals belong to me. All of them.” You nod, hesitantly. “Well, I simply came to collect. Everyone dies, it’s my job to make sure of it.” 

“What does this have to do with me?” You ask. He smiles softly, cupping your cheek in hand. 

“My brothers and I came to an understanding regarding these souls, but you have to understand, everything comes with a price,” he tells you. “And this price, is you.” 

“Me?” You gasp. “Why me?” 

“Are you not tragedy, my dear?” Heeseung asks you, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Are you not the one thing in this whole wretched world that might understand me?” He pulls you closer, pressing your chest against his, taking your breath with it. “Death is my life, and it’s such a terribly lonely existence. You understand, don’t you?” You look into his eyes, shrouded slightly by his silver hair, dark brown and staring so intently you feel as though you can feel it in your soul. “Surely you do. While the rest of the muses experience the joy of things like poetry and prose and song you continue to be cursed by the agony of it all. Happiness is but a fleeting dream when the only call you are allowed to answer is that of death and disaster.” 

Unfortunately, he’s right. You’ve never minded too much, but even you know that you’re far from Jaeyun’s favorite, from anyone’s favorite. You’ve always known you’re barely departed from the God of Death, drawn here to the heavens but brought down to earth to see the saddest parts of humanity. You’ve never been to the river but you’ve seen the souls that depart for it, never to be seen again. It haunts you, and you’re all the more lonely for it. 

Could Heeseung truly be just as so?

“Do you see?” He asks, words whispered to you. “The only thing I ask is you, in exchange for all the rest of them. You would be saving them, and me,” he coos. You look into his eyes, expression softened, almost pained. Your heart aches in sympathy and you touch his cheek gently. His eyes flutter softly when you touch him, leaning his head into your palm. Despite his godliness, he does not emanate warmth like the others, as human as the ones you’ve seen below. Truly he is othered by his brothers, he must be. 

“What would I have to do?” You ask and Heeseung smiles. He knew you wouldn’t refuse. 

“Give me your word,” he tells you. “And become mine.” 

“I will,” you agree. 

“I was so hoping you would understand,” he coos, bringing his hand down from your face to your chest. His fingers move aside the v of your neckline, revealing the center of your chest to him. You go to flinch back but he holds fast to your waist, not letting you move an inch. “Oh, no, pretty, you misunderstand,” he whispers. “You gave me your word. You belong to me.” His eyes blaze with black flames as his fingers touch your bare skin and you gasp through the pain that rips through you. 

It’s like you’ve been engulfed by flames, licking at your skin, melting you down to the bones. Your hand falls from his face to grip at his arms desperately as he smirks, watching your wide eyes stare into his. 

“Hurts,” you whisper, the only word you can get out through the unbearable pain and he coos again, but this time he mocks you with it. You feel as though you have never been more foolish in your immortal life. 

“I’m sure it does,” he hisses, staring intently into your eyes.

Your eyes roll back into your head, gasping through the pain that rocks through your body, agony like you’ve never felt it before. Your fingers dig into his forearms, your head thrown back as you try not to scream. Darkness starts to take over your vision as you succumb to the horrendous pain, collapsing in Heeseung’s arms. 

When you wake, you wake alone. You throw yourself upright in bed, the blankets of pitch black gathering around your waist as you gasp for air. The air is thick and heavy in your lungs, an ache in the middle of your chest making it hard for you to get a full breath in. You reach down for the front of your dress, pulling the folds of the fabric open to see what he’s done. With a trembling hand you touch the scarred words into your skin, his name burned into your flesh. 

Lee Heeseung is written across your skin, and you resist the urge to sob. You press your fingers against the smarting wounds, knowing there’s nothing else you can do. It’s too late. He’s taken you. 

When you finally drag yourself from the blankets, you stagger across the cold stone beneath your feet, trying to find your way out of the bedroom that you’re in. The furnishings are all made of wood and stone and decorated in black and silver. It’s dim, lit only by a few sconces on the walls, kerosene lamps lighting your way. You try to get out as quickly as you can, pushing your way out the sliding wood door, stumbling into the hallway. 

Wherever you are, it’s freezing cold, the thin dress you wear far from enough to keep you warm. You have to wrap your arms around yourself as you walk down the cavernous halls, high ceilings of gray stone above your head, the walls all lined with kerosene lamps. It’s dim, the air heavy as you try to make your way towards something. Towards anything at all, just to figure out where you are. 

Every door you try to open is locked, refusing to budge even when you pull on their flimsy, wooden frames. You try every door along the long hallway, hopeful to find someone, anyone who might be able to help you. You know you belong to Heeseung but you can’t stand the idea of it, being left alone in his room, helpless. You just keep trying doors, desperately hoping someone might be inside one of them or, at the very least, one of them will be open so that you can hide from him in peace. 

You get to the end of the hall, only to realize that you’re at the end of the line. The walls of the hallway fall away and you’re standing at the edge of a river, a great rushing river of gray water, running past you never-endingly. In both directions, the river stretches out so far it eventually turns into nothing but fog, extending out for what must be an eternity. You don’t need to be told what it is, you know what river you’re looking at. Before you, in the middle of the path, there is a bridge, arching upwards, a steep climb from where you stand. You try to catch your breath but the roaring water is too much, the air humid. You’re standing on unsteady legs, unfamiliar with the stone beneath your feet, which causes you to sway dangerously towards the edge of the river as you try to get a full breath in. 

A hand around your arm pulls you back, throwing you into the chest of the person that tugs you from the edge. You let go of yourself to touch the person that grabbed you, using them to stay upright. They let go of you as soon as you do though and you fall heavily to the stone flooring, right on your backside. When you lift your gaze, Heeseung is staring down at you. 

“Do you know what would’ve happened to you if you had fallen in?” He tells you, glaring down at you. “I never would’ve been able to get you out. Souls that fall into the river's waters don’t come out. Don’t get so close, even I can’t save you.” 

“Well, considering I woke up lost and alone, I don’t know what you expected!” You retort, getting back to your feet. Heeseung surveys you critically, watching you struggle to your feet. “Where have you even been? After all that nonsense you gave me at the palace⁠—” 

“I had to get you to agree somehow,” he interrupts you and you scoff, shaking your head. 

“I am a fool. I thought you had a heart, but clearly you’re as empty and hollow as Jaeyun has always said you are,” you accuse him, making Heeseung’s eyes blaze. “If the only thing you ever wanted in exchange for the others was my soul, then go on! Take it! It’s clearly the only thing you care about!” You insist, leaning towards him.

Heeseung’s fingers are suddenly pressing painfully into your chest, right above where his name has been written into your skin. He presses them in hard enough to ache, and it feels like something is stealing your breath right from you. Heeseung watches you with dark eyes full of black fire as you gasp for air, his fingers moving slowly up your chest, towards your throat. It’s choking you, something wet and thick rising up within you. Not your throat, not your windpipe, something deeper, intangible, as his index and middle fingers trace their way up your skin. 

It rises up your neck, until it’s in the back of your throat, your mouth, hot and wet and pulsing. Your hands wrap around your throat, still you can’t breathe until you’re forced to open your mouth as Heeseung’s fingers trace up underneath your jaw and chin. When it pours out of you, you’re shocked to see a glowing ball of liquid, silver like mercury floating between you above his fingers. 

“Silver. I expected gold,” Heeseung says. You still cannot breath, choking on nothing, like all the air has been sucked right out of your lungs. A bottle materializes out of thin air, which Heeseung pours the liquid into and then magicks a chain around. With a snap of his fingers, the bottle is hung around your throat and you can breathe again. You look down at the small bottle that hangs from your throat, lifting it gently in your fingertips. “You should be more careful with what you say,” he advises.

“What is this?” You ask, turning the bottle over in your fingertips. 

“Your soul,” Heeseung says and your eyes dart up to him. Your hand lets go of it, the bottle bouncing off your collarbones. “Did you forget who I am in such a short, short time period.” He leans towards you menacingly. “If you’d really like me to take it, I can. Oh, I can and I’ll pour it right into the river where it will never be seen again.” You stare at him through wide eyes, Heeseung smirking at you. “I’m showing you kindness by keeping you alive. Perhaps you should think about that.” 

“What about the others?” You ask. “You said my soul⁠—” 

“It will suffice,” Heeseung says boredly, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “For the souls that I desire, even one made of silver is worth plenty. Come with me, I’ll show you what you’re worth.” He tells you, turning to walk away. You hesitate, glancing back at the river. You stare at its gray, rushing waters, swallowing through the fear that threatens to rise through you like your soul previously did. You still ache, but you have no one else to be with other than him. When you look back over Heeseung is standing at the mouth of the hall, leaning against it with a raised brow. You walk over to follow him, Heeseung pushing off to lead you back into the cavern of the underworld. 

You discover you ran the wrong way when Heeseung leads you so far inside, past all the previous doors you tried to force open, until you pass the door of the bedroom you ran out of.  Strangely, it doesn’t look any different from the other doors that line the walls, small and unassuming. Not far past it the two of you end up at a pair of great, double doors. Heeseung pushes them open, stepping inside with confidence. You follow him, only to stop in the doorway. 

Before you is a great room of shelves, all of them lined with bottle upon bottle of liquids. Some of them shine with bright colors, glittery and beckoning, some of them dark, dull and swirling, but many are just gray. They look as though they carry the water of the river inside of them, swishing and churning inside of their bottles. The shelves go on for what feels like forever, rising up towards the high ceiling, wrapping around the massive room. Heeseung pays you no mind, moving to a table that sits in the middle of the massive room. Most of the flooring is draped with carpets and seating, couches and chairs, tables and sitting areas. But in the middle of it, there is a table, covered with a cloth of black that is trimmed in silver, a pewter scale sitting on it. 

“Don’t just stand in the doorway all day,” Heeseung says, moving around the bottles that are on the table already. You look over to him, noticing the way he separates them all into pairs. You walk over to him to watch him move, his brow creasing as though he’s working on a particularly difficult puzzle. You stand beside him, tilting your head as he finally picks two of them up. 

“What’re you doing?” You ask and Heeseung lifts one into your line of sight. It is gray, as most of them are, swirling inside of its bottle. 

“Mortal souls have weight,” Heeseung informs you and you nod in understanding. “Pay attention.” You nod again and he places one on one side of the scale. The scale drops and then he carefully places the second one, darker and duller than the other, onto the other side. The scale struggles to balance them, the darker of the two clearly heavier than the first. It weighs it down, leaving it uneven. “All things in balance,” Heeseung says, plucking the gray bottle from the scale and replacing it with another.

You watch as he readjusts, putting a different, equally as gray liquid filled bottle onto the scale. This time, the scale readjusts, and the two sides sit evenly with each other. Heeseung smiles to himself, picking them both up. You watch as he carelessly throws the both of them, your heart jumping into your throat. They shatter in midair, but nothing spills to the floor. It all seems to disappear from existence, both bottles gone before your very eyes. 

“What did you do that for?” You ask and Heeseung turns to you. 

“It was their time,” Heeseung tells you. “All the bottles that you see on this table, are well due for their death.” He nods to it and you look over to the way the table is absolutely littered with bottles. Every single one of them must represent a mortal soul. Which means…

“All of these bottles…” You begin, slowly turning to look at him, “are souls?” Heeseung nods in agreement. “So… the souls I’m worth…?” 

“They’re… still on their shelves,” Heeseung sighs, rolling his eyes. “Without indication of their time, I haven’t been able to take them down, but you see now, don’t you?” He asks and you tilt your head. He huffs at you. “Your worth, Muse. Your soul is well worth at least 20 or 30 of these simple mortals.” He gestures to the table as whole, which looks as though it’s holding at least that many. “Your soul would tip the scale. Everything in balance,” Heeseung reiterates. “That is what I do. That is my purpose.” 

“That is why you⁠…” you trail off but something occurs to you. “But I couldn’t possibly weigh the same as a full fledged goddess.” 

“No, you are inconsequential to the weight of a goddess. You will never measure up,” Heeseung sighs. “Unfortunately, I have no grasp of them anymore.” He turns around and you follow his gaze towards the back of the room. He walks towards it and you follow close behind, the case before you becoming clear as you get close enough. 

Inside of a glass case, there are bottles, sealed with golden wax on their stoppers, swirling, glittering and effervescent. You watch the colors of them swirl inside of their bottles. Gold, and navy, and red, and white, and blue and purple. Your breath catches when you realize what you are looking at. You turn to Heeseung but he is already looking at you. 

“I know not how it happened, but now every single one of my brothers is accompanied by a bottle.” A pair of gold bottles sits at the front but the rest of them are aligned with a bottle of the exact same matching color and shade. You watch them swirl and dance inside of their glass prisons, like the embodiment of joy. “I couldn’t have taken them if I tried,” he turns to look into the glass case with you. “It would’ve ruined everything. There is nothing in this world, in the entire cosmos, that would match the weight of their goddesses except for them.” 

“So you would’ve⁠—” 

“My brothers hate me,” Heeseung says, “but I still love them. I couldn’t take their lives even if I wanted to.” 

“Then why threaten them?” You ask. “Clearly, you couldn’t have them. Those goddesses aren’t yours to take. Why did you⁠—” 

“Why do they get to be happy?” Heeseung cuts you off, turning to you with a tense expression, his tone exploding out of him like he can barely hold it in. You jerk back, surprised. “Why do they get lovers while I’m left down here, alone? I may not have been able to kill them, but I have many empty rooms. Would I have taken them prisoner? Perhaps. Would I have found a way to keep them away from my brothers? Found a way to force my brothers to their knees just for what they crave most in the entire universe?” He shrugs. “Perhaps. After all they’ve done to me, would it have really been so bad?” 

“You’re… diabolical. Evil. And self centered and greedy and⁠—” 

“If you think you’re going to hurt my feelings, think again,” Heeseung tells you.  “There is not a thing under Sunoo’s shining rays that I have not been called by my very family.” He leans towards you. “I am not afraid of you, Muse. But don’t forget,” he tucks his finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards his. “When I could’ve taken them, I took you. I’m not truly as horrible as you think I am.” 

“Then why take me?” 

“Not everything I told you was a lie.” He leans back, letting his hand drop away from your face. “Now you’re more than welcome to stay, but there’s not much else to be seen,” Heeseung tells you. He walks back to his table, still strewn with bottles, carefully organizing them with gentle hands. “Also, every room is yours to choose from.” He waves a hand carelessly but you’re sure all the rooms in his large home have been unlocked. “Unless you can’t stand to depart from my bed,” he comments, looking at you from over his shoulder. You scoff, walking past him and out the doors. Heeseung waves a hand and you startle as the doors are suddenly slammed shut behind you. 

For all that Heeseung took you, you spend an inordinate amount of time alone. It’s almost as if you never left the heavens, the only difference being that instead of lush green gardens and sparkling marble towers, it’s nothing but desolate gray stone and cavernous rooms and ceilings. You may have your pick of rooms, but none of them are truly that welcoming. Nothing in this place seems to be much other than a means to an end, a resting place for Heeseung to lay his head and do his work. Everything else is far, far from what one might consider homey. 

You spend days wandering the halls, of which you discovered there are many, this lair seeming to be a gigantic labyrinthian maze the longer you walk around it. The doors you tried before are all unlocked, some of which belong to rooms while others lead deeper and deeper into this rockface you seem to be living on the edge of. You’re shocked when you can find your way back to the places you started, though you’re starting to think that’s the way of this place. What would Heeseung get by letting you get lost down here anyway? 

The main hall is the only place where you see him though, but hardly does he seem to be doing anything other than what he apparently busies himself with at all hours. If he’s not in his library of souls he’s in his bedroom, presumably resting, and vice versa. He hardly pays you any mind, even when he walks right past you, the drape of his black cloak fluttering around him as he walks around, always his mind on something it appears. 

You can understand what a lonely existence this must be, always being forced to do what is necessary of you, hardly ever having the time for anyone else. Not that it seems that anyone else seems to care about Heeseung, with the way he regards the world and its other Gods with such coldness. Even if you wanted to, you don’t know that you would know how to break through that icy exterior. 

But you find yourself lonely too, retreating to your bedroom most days, or sometimes the edge of the river. You can’t help but be curious about it, watching the gray waters rush past. You don’t see souls approach the stone landing you sit on, legs pulled up into your body, your knees against your chest. Even though you thought for sure that you must, at least one or two of them, none of them seem to be able to make it over the top of the bridge and to you. Strange, isn’t that the meaning of the bridge?

“What’re you doing?” Heeseung asks, finding you on one such day you find yourself thinking about it. You don’t look at him though you know he looks at you with thinly veiled disdain. He always does. 

“Aren’t souls supposed to cross the bridge?” You ask him. Heeseung sighs, looking over at where you’re staring at the wooden bridge before the two of you. “Why don’t they?” 

“Souls are on the bridge, but hardly ever do they actually cross it,” Heeseung informs you. You lift your gaze from the bridge to look at him. “The Sanzu is not a destination, it is a journey. Souls are supposed to make their way across it, it’s what they’re meant to do.” He looks down at you, into your wondering eyes. He tsks softly. “So little you understand. Are all gods like this?” He questions and you look away from him, embarrassed. “If my brothers are going to fill your heads with stories, the least they could do is get them right. Honestly…” 

“I know you don’t care for kindness, but would it really bring you so much harm to speak with any sort of understanding,” you admonish him, getting to your feet. Heeseung sighs at you yet again. “It’s no wonder your brothers can’t stand you when all you do is belittle them and act as though everyone is so beneath you. You may be powerful, but what use is the power you have when you’re forced to live a life of loneliness and solitude as a result of it?” Heeseung’s eyes don’t stray from yours and you scoff. You go to walk past him, but Heeseung grabs you by the wrist. 

“Do you want to see the bridge?” He asks and you stop in your tracks. “I can show it to you. But you must not let go of me. It’s the only thing I require.” 

“What would be the point?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at him. Heeseung moves to your side, letting his hand slide down from your wrist to thread his fingers through yours instead.

“You want to know why souls don’t make it to the other side,” he says, standing at your side. Slowly you turn to face him, Heeseung lifting a brow at you. “Don’t you?” 

Rather reluctantly, you agree, and Heeseung pulls you over towards the bridge. The wooden bridge is hooked onto the stone landing, surrounded by the rushing of gray water. Heeseung steps onto it, guiding you along behind him. You hesitate at the edge though, staying on the stone. Heeseung is stopped when you remain immobile and looks back at you, expectantly. You look back at him, apprehensively. Heeseung huffs and stands at the end of the bridge, still holding onto your hand. 

“Don’t let go,” he tells you and you nod. You step onto the bridge behind him. 

The feeling of being on the bridge is immediate, reminding you that you’re stepping onto a literal liminal space. The boundary between the earth and the afterlife surrounds you and you grip even tighter to Heeseung’s hand, though he doesn’t seem as perturbed by it. Perhaps he’s just used to it, he’s not bothered by the crushing feeling of being somewhere he shouldn’t be. Then again, maybe this is where he was always supposed to be. After all, he is shackled to this afterlife, his brothers once threw him into the abyss beyond the river, forcing him to guard it. Maybe this is just who he is now. 

You walk alongside him for a long time, longer than you think is fathomable, the wooden planks and high railings of the bridge on either side of you your only company other than the god you cling to. You daren’t let go of him, not when that was the only thing he required of you. You clutch his hand like a child to their mothers, resisting the urge to lean into him. 

Eventually, you start to see them. Your eyes widen when you see people, half formed and beginning to fade out of existence. Heeseung glances at you and then walks right down the middle of the bridge, the souls surrounding you moving around the two of you. They don’t seem to be seeing you, however, walking forward almost trance-like, like it’s the only thing they know how to do. 

“These are the souls you wanted to see, aren’t they?” Heeseung says. He stops and turns to you, forcing you to do the same. “This is the middle of the bridge. We’ve already made it there. Once we cross this line, the souls will start to take on a more solid appearance. Some may even know their names or their families or some of their memories. The further we get from where we began, the more these souls will know of themselves.” 

“Is that why they never make it to the end?” You ask. 

“They’re not meant to,” Heeseung tells you. You stare at him in surprise. “Souls that make it across are souls that have expired. They’ll never be reborn again. Souls that don’t will be reborn. They’ll reincarnate, into another. Usually another person, if they’re on the bridge, but not always. Souls of exceptional depth and weight will be reborn as animals or insects, a way for them to lighten their load and try to become human again.” 

“So… almost all souls are reborn?” 

“Of course,” Heeseung tells you as though it’s obvious. “Why do you think it is so important that I maintain the balance?” 

It all starts to come together in your mind. Balanced souls are reborn, they are brought back around to the next life, and if they are not taken at their time, they cannot be reborn. Every soul must be weighed, they are taken in pairs. If they are not equal, they cannot be taken. His brothers… by making those deals… they completely threw the order of the world. So many souls that should’ve been taken, they are still walking. So many lives that should’ve been weighed and reborn, following the proper cycle of all things. You are the exchange, you cannot be killed, or reborn, you can be equal to souls that are both alive and dead. Everything must be in balance. 

“I could either have taken those lives, or I could’ve taken something that is the same. Do you see?” Heeseung asks and you look at him in wonder. “I’m not so cruel.” 

“Is death not cruel?” You ask. Heeseung’s expression softens. It’s both unimaginably sad and understanding. He touches your cheek gently. 

“Death might seem cruel, that is the state of things, but it is necessary,” he tells you. You blink up at him. “I didn’t understand either when my brothers forced me to do this, but I see now. As lonely as this existence is, I know that none of them could’ve been able to do this. I know that none of them would’ve been able to shoulder the weight of so much tragedy. Do I resent them for forcing it upon me? Of course I do. That does not mean I don’t see why it is necessary I do such a thing.” 

“Do you…” Heeseung tilts his head at you. “Your soul? What does it weigh?” 

“Nothing,” he tells you. “I can show you.” 

The world melts away around you, only for it to rebuild itself into the shape of the room you found yourself in when you first arrived. You’re shocked by the feeling of stone instead of wood beneath your feet. You look around in shock when you can feel the heat of his kerosene lamps, fending off the chill of the stone. Heeseung’s hand drops away from your face and his hand leaves yours as he steps away from you. 

He goes to a shelf along the wall, picking up a bottle. He brings it to you, holding it out to you. You look at it, shocked by what is inside. Or rather, what is not. 

Something gaseous and black swirls around inside, like it’s fighting to get out. You watch for a moment, then reach a hand out to touch it. Before you can, Heeseung lets go of it and you watch in horror as it falls, smashing to the floor. 

The glass shatters and then dissolves into nothing. Your eyes dart up to Heeseung’s face, watching a shiver rush through him, Heeseung trembling like a swift chill just ran down his spine. He meets your eyes again and smirks. 

“Neat trick, isn’t it?” He says and you stare at him in shock. He looks at the shelf once more and there it sits, like he never picked it up, black gas moving restlessly around inside of it. “I’ve tried to break it a great many times, but you see, it’s useless. I’m chained to his plane, this damned world. It doesn’t matter what I do, I can’t die. I’m not allowed.” 

“But what does it weigh?” 

“Nothing,” Heeseung sighs. He looks at you. “It weighs nothing at all. I assure you.” 

“Have you tried?” You ask and Heeseung’s brow creases. “Against something. Anything? Surely it has to weigh something. Surely⁠—” 

“Did you listen to a thing I’ve told you since you arrived here?” Heeseung asks, his tone going tight and angry. “All souls are to be taken in balance. Every one of them. If my soul was meant to be taken, that would mean it would have to weigh the same as another. I can’t die so it can’t be weighed against anything else. There is nothing that will match its weight.” 

“How can you be so sure?” You retort and Heeseung huffs, smirking at your naivety, rolling his eyes. “Have you tried everything? What about…” your eyes dart around in thought while Heeseung stares at you in thinly veiled amusement. You are dumber than he thought, he’s sure. He waits, watching as your eyes alight, meeting his eyes. “What about mine?” 

“Yours?” He laughs. “Your soul? You think a godly soul could ever align in weight with mine?” He goes back and picks his bottle up off the shelf again, smirking at you. “Let’s see then, shall we?” he asks, pushing past you and out into the hall. 

You follow after him, Heeseung leading you back to the library. He doesn’t pay any attention to the bottles on the table, standing behind the scale yet again. You move to his side, waiting to see but he doesn’t place his bottle down first. Instead, he reaches out and closes his fingers around the bottle tied around your neck, breaking the silver chain it hangs from. You gasp, but in his hands, your breath doesn’t stop. Heeseung smirks at you as the silver chain around it dissolves, leaving just the stoppered bottle. 

“Let’s see your weight, Muse,” he comments, extending his hand to drop it on the scale. It tips dramatically, the plate your soul is sitting on almost touching the table top. “As I suspected,” Heeseung says, still looking at you, not even having glanced at the scale. “The value of your soul is unimaginable. Mine, however,” he says, lifting his own, nearly empty and lighter than air, “is nothing at all.” 

He places it on the opposite plate and turns to look, fully expecting it to not move at all. He knows what he weighs, he’s weighed his soul more than he can even say, watching as the scale tips up and up and up, forcing his soul to rise above all else. There’s no way he could ever⁠—

“They’re even,” you say and Heeseung’s eyes widen in shock as the two plates come together, sitting at an even keel. His soul sinks down to sit evenly with yours, despite the impossibility of it all. His heart feels like it’s being squeezed in his chest, his breath tight, watching with bated breath as they finally stop bobbing up and down, beside one another. 

“No,” Heeseung whispers. “That’s impossible.” 

“Clearly not,” you speak and his head turns slowly to look at you. Surely you still don’t understand what this means because you look at him without shock, clearly thinking you have bested him. His heart is racing in his chest, his mind is spiraling, he can’t imagine it. He can’t, not after everything, all this time. This is a mistake, it has to be, but still he moves towards you. You let him even when his fingers curl around your cheek.

“What are you?” He whispers softly, vehemently, looking you up and down as though he’s seeing you for the first time. Apprehension begins to paint your expression as you see the wild look in his eyes as he tries to figure you out. “What, in the cosmos, could you possibly be?” His words come out almost reverent, his other hand coming up to touch you, but instead it hovers over the curves of your body, like he can’t fathom your very existence.

“I don’t… know what you mean,” you finally speak again and Heeseung’s gaze finally focuses on your face again. 

“You are so much more than a Muse,” he says, bringing his other hand up so that he may cradle your face between his hands. “You must be. You have to be.” You stare up at him, trying to read the wild look in his eyes, but it all disappears when they’re suddenly flaring to live with black flames. “Impossible,” he breathes. 

His mouth descends upon yours like a storm, like a wildfire, his mouth taking yours in a kiss so world stopping, mind numbing you’re forced to clutch his wrists to keep upright. Your legs feel like they’re going to give out underneath you. Heeseung kisses you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, letting go of your face just to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you up against him. You’re forced to let go of his wrists, instead finding the sides of his neck, digging your fingers in when he forces his tongue further into your mouth, hands bunching up the fabric of your dress. 

You’re surprised when you’re suddenly being forced up against the edge of the table, Heeseung’s hands grabbing at your body, lifting you onto the edge of it. The entire table shakes, bottles clatter against one another as you’re perched on the edge of it. His hands run over your body as he kisses you breathless, tongue running over the insides of your mouth like he hopes to memorize it. His hands move from your waist to your back and back down, to your hips and your thighs. You gasp into his mouth, which he swallows, tongue pressing into the softness of your palate as he digs his fingers into your exposed thighs, parting your legs so he can step between them. He brings your legs around his waist so he can lift you from the table, into his arms. You flail against him, wrapping your arms around him lest you fall. From this angle, you can gain an upper hand, forcing his head back with your hands on his jaw, kissing down into his mouth. 

“Muse,” he moans into your mouth. It’s the most gorgeous sound, you don’t even mind the way he’s carrying you from the room, nearly stumbling into the wall when he’s moaning into your mouth. His hands are under your dress, feeling over your thighs and ass, blindly making his way to his bedroom with you clinging to him. You move your attention from his mouth to his neck, letting the blinding feeling of desire and need fill you. Heeseung moans fill your head as you mouth over his neck and jaw, burying your face into the crook of his neck. 

He all but throws you onto the bed when he finally makes it to the room, still staring at you with flaming, blackened eyes. You feel helplessly pinned beneath his gaze, watching as he looks at you with flushed skin, chest heaving, lifting a hand to rip his cloak from his shoulders. A burning feeling starts to begin in your chest as he climbs onto the bed, crawling towards you. You lift a hand to it, spread out on the bed beneath him, trying to find the origins of it but Heeseung already knows it. He gets on top of you, all but tearing your dress open so he can look, finding where his name has been written into your skin. You look down to see it burning and glowing black, Heeseung staring down at it with dilated pupils. 

“You can’t be,” he whispers but still his gaze lifts back to your face, open and surprised, eyes hazy with arousal. “You’re not mortal. You’ve never been mortal.” The words leave him like he can’t understand it.

“No, of course not,” you tell him but it doesn’t quell anything within him. If anything it makes him shake, unrestrained lust and desire surging through him. He pushes you down into the bed, hovering over the top of your body. You stare up at him, entranced by the look in his eyes. Somehow, you’re not scared, instead watching as his blackened eyes run over your form with something like adoration. 

“How have you been hiding from me this whole time?” He whispers. Heeseung’s hands run over your body with adoration. He struggles with the tie of your dress, all but tearing it the rest of the way open so you can finally be revealed to him. You flinch back from his rough movements but once your dress has been opening, revealing your body, his touch becomes soft. Scorching and burning and flaming over every inch of skin he touches, hot enough to hurt, fanning a flame inside of you you didn’t know was there. You throw your head back, overwhelmed by it all as Heeseung leans down to kiss your chest, mouthing over the words he put on your skin. “It could’ve been you. I could’ve been first,” he moans brokenly into your skin, bringing his hands to your waist to slide them beneath you, gathering you in his arms.

You don’t know what he means, but it doesn’t matter. Your thoughts all disappear as you arch your back into his touch, his mouth moving over your skin with a desperation, tongue and teeth and lips. His kisses travel over your collarbones and your chest, licking over your nipples, making you clench the bedding beneath you. Further down, Heeseung showers you with affection, over your breasts to your ribs and stomach and waist. You look down to see him caress you with his mouth like he can’t get enough of your body, like he never wants to stop touching you. 

Lying you out again, he moves further down, to your undergarments, which he hastily pulls down, your hips lifting to help him. You couldn’t imagine pushing him away. Heat melts through you, centering deep within your hips. Your undergarments are damp with your slick, dripping from you onto the bedding once he’s taken them from you. Heeseung doesn’t waste any time, parting your legs with gentle hands so he can get between them, letting his mouth run over your body once again. 

“I needed you so badly,” he moans into your skin, lips kissing your lower stomach, over your hips, down towards where you need him. You still can’t find it in yourself to touch him, worried that it might break whatever desperate lust filled spell is filling his head. He keeps going, skipping where you need him most so he can kiss over your thighs, mouthing and sucking and licking and biting at the skin inside. You whimper, hips kicking when he avoids you, your cunt clenching and unclenching around nothing. You look down at him, watching as Heeseung finally lifts his gaze from your body once he’s finished biting a dark mark into your thigh. He rests his cheek against the inside of your thigh, panting heavily as he looks up at you with nothing less than adoration in his eyes.

“You have no idea what you are, do you?” He asks and you shake your head. “You’re what I need. You’re my other half.” He interrupts himself just to needily kiss your skin. “And all this time, you’ve been hidden from me.” Barely can he say a single sentence without kissing your skin with a desperation that bleeds from him. “Another great punishment from the cosmos, from my very mother who swore that I was never meant to be born. You were kept from me.” He crawls up your body, hands all over you, mouth trailing all across your skin, only to take your face in his hands once he’s knelt between your legs. “But no longer.” He swears, kissing across your chest, your collarbones, like devotion, like worship. “I’ll have you as I was always meant to.” 

“Why do I not know?” You ask, tears building in your eyes with frustration. “I feel like I know nothing. I feel like I’ve never known anything at all.” You grab at him, fisting his shirts in your fingers. He lets you, looking at you with such softness you can’t stand it. “All this time, and I know nothing.” Heeseung brushes your tears away when they fall from your eyes. “Tell me you’re not lying,” you demand, pulling on him, forcing him closer. Your tone is tight, but it threatens to shatter like glass and Heeseung’s heart aches, listening to you beg for the truth. “Tell me you’re not lying to me. I couldn’t take it, after everything⁠—” You cut yourself off with a sob.

“I am not lying,” Heeseung assures you. “Of all the things in these cosmos, I would not lie about this. Please, you have to believe me.” His own eyes have softened, dark brown and pleading with you. “Every soul is weighed because every soul is only half of what they are. Every soul is forever seeking their other half, even us.” He sounds breathless as he says it, stroking your cheeks like you’re made of glass. The most precious thing he could ever touch. “Even Gods. You are mine.” He presses kisses to your tear streaked cheeks. “You are my other half, my beautiful Muse.” He kisses your lips again, sweet and deep and desperate. You pull him closer, trying to get him against you, but his clothes rub uncomfortably against your skin. When he parts, he speaks into your lips, “And now I will have you, as I have always meant to.” 

When he slips away from you, it’s to disrobe, his clothes peeling away from his gorgeous body. You watch from the bed as he strips them away, layers between your skin, until he’s able to move back to you, laying himself over you. His golden skin slides over yours, warm and sweet, his mouth making its way from your stomach to your chest as he drops down between your spread legs. His hands slide over your thighs to your hips and waist, gathering you in his arms once more. You wrap yours around him, finally allowing yourself to touch him, his lips caressing the burn of his name as he presses himself against your body. 

He brings you into his lap, your legs parted around his hips. Heeseung departs from your skin just so he can look down, taking a hand from your back so that he might spread you open from him. You moan as his fingers run over your slick folds, gathering the wetness that drips from you to spread it over himself. Already his cock is hard and leaking, but still he needs more. Heeseung moans, teasing himself with the slick of you, pressing forward to align himself with your entrance. You’re more than he could ever hope for, he wants to savor this. He wants to have you for the first time as long as possible. 

Your body aches for him as he carefully pushes himself inside of you. You lean forward to clutch him against you as you’re filled with him. You shift over his lap, all but straddling him, his hand leaving his cock to instead take you by the hip, dragging you down over him. Heeseung’s gasps and whimpers filter through your consciousness but it’s hard to focus on it when it feels like you’re being torn apart from the inside, fire and flames washing through you, a bone deep ache. 

“You feel so good,” Heeseung moans into your cheek, his hands gripping you so tightly it hurts. “Like you were made for me.” 

“I was,” you whisper into his ear, a shiver ripping through him.

His hands slide over your body, his lips pressing kisses to your shoulder and neck as he grips your ass, guiding you on top of him. Every stroke of him against your walls sends new, mind numbing, earth shattering waves of pleasure through you. You have to dig your fingers into his shoulders to keep yourself grounded to the reality of him, his body against yours, his hands on your body, to keep from floating away. Your eyes are constantly rolling, your body following his guidance so mindlessly, eating up every last ounce of pleasure he gives to you. 

“So good,” you whisper into his ear. “Heeseung, please,” you whimper, choking a moan from his lips. 

“Oh please,” he cries out. He forces you to move faster, building to a frantic pace, your hips meeting his with loud, wet slaps, your slick dripping out of you to stain his skin, dripping down between your bodies to the bedding. “Oh please, please,” he moans, head thrown back. You press your lips to his skin, kissing over the golden skin beneath you, watching as he trembles underneath you, wracked with pleasure like he’s never known before. “I need more,” he whimpers into your throat. “I need you.” 

You pull him with you, down towards the bed. He falls with you, your back hitting the bed. You’re trapped beneath his body, your legs parted around his hips, Heeseung leaning over the top of you. His cock slips deeper inside, forcing you to take him at a different angle. You choke out a strangled moan as Heeseung adjusts for you. He takes your thighs in hand, pressing them back against your stomach, leaning over the top of you, making you cry out for him. Your hands find his wrists, digging into them as he starts to fuck you slowly, rolling his hips down into the tight press of your body, your knees over his shoulders. He looks down at you through flaming irises, watching your expression grow hazy, your mouth open, your eyes staring into his, unfocused and hazy. 

“Like this?” He asks, going faster and faster. You throw your head back into the pillow as he takes you apart. His hands leave your thighs so he can take your hands in his, bringing them up beside your head, pinning you down with his hands on either side of your head. From this close, he can practically bend you in half watching from up close as you take him, over and over again, forced to experience every last mind breaking wave of pleasure that rushes through you. 

Your eyes are transfixed on his eyes, the way they’re turning pitch black, soaking up all the light in the room, spreading out to fill even sclera, turning deep and endless. You can’t tear your eyes away from him as it happens, heat rising up from deep within your pleasure, aching through you, licking out at your every nerve ending. The heavy pressure of him inside of you, the feeling of him filling you over and over again, you can feel it building inside of you, closer and closer to the precipice. 

“Heeseung,” you whimper, squeezing his hands in yours, your hips trying to buck up against his but unable to with the way he’s pressed you down into the bedding. “I- I-” 

“Give it to me,” he whispers. “Let me feel you. Like I was always meant to.” He watches you as something dark and all consuming builds inside of you, flaring through the words on your chest, rising up into your eyes. Black and flaming, reaching out through your pupils, swallowing your irises, into your sclera. “Yes, yes, yes,” Heeseung moans. “Yes, beautiful. Become mine.”

You cry out, head thrown back as it tears through you, your cunt spasming around his cock. Cum gushes out of you, dripping and adding to the mess between your bodies. Heeseung grips your hands, chasing the way you tighten around him, over and over and over until it breaks over him too. His eyes close, mouth falling open as he comes apart inside of you, filling you up. 

In the library, left alone on the scale, Heeseung’s bottle glitters. The gaseous form inside turns silver, sinking down to the bottom. The liquid inside swirls against the side of the glass, splashing and lashing and churning until it settles down, idling at the bottom of the bottle. A perfect match to your own. 

“Do you really think I could’ve been first?” You ask, lying in bed beside him once you’ve both cleaned up. You’re cradled against his chest, like he can’t imagine letting go of you. You rest your head on his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist, a hand rubbing up and down your side. Heeseung hums from above you, as though truly still thinking it over. 

“If things had been different, perhaps you would’ve,” Heeseung says. 

He knows well how different things could’ve been. He knows that his mother always resented him, feared him perhaps, for all the power he possessed. He was the one who killed their father, he was the one who helped form the Earth, he was the one who made the very first human. Heeseung’s always had power unlike anything else, and for that their mother feared that he might one day turn on all of them. It was with great fear and resentment for her eldest child that she turned to her other sons, begging them to stop him. He knows that, had their mother had her way, they would’ve killed him, but they didn’t. Instead Heeseung was thrown to the abyss beyond the river, chained to an eternity of doing what they feared he would’ve destroyed. Maintaining a careful balance. 

Their mother did everything in her power to destroy what Heeseung created, including humans. It killed her, what she did, trying to undo what her son had done. She unthreaded human souls, forcing them into two, doing what she thought was necessary to be sure that her son’s creations could never fulfill what she feared most. Dethrone the sons she loved so desperately. She tore herself apart to do it, hiding the truth from her six sons in the hope that they would never discover it. 

Truly, Heeseung knew this might happen. His brothers were built in his image, he knew they would never be whole on their own. He, though, he thought maybe he would be. His mother was more devious than he thought. She must’ve known otherwise for how else would you be a God if she had not purposefully hidden you from him?

“If things had been different, I wouldn’t have had to go to such lengths to find you. I would’ve… maybe I would’ve had you a long time ago.” He looks down at you and smiles gently. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, making you smile as well. “I would’ve torn the world apart for you if I knew they were hiding you from me,” he whispers into your skin. “You know this, don’t you?” 

“I know it,” you agree.

a/n: *the unprotected sex depicted is both purposeful and symbolic, engage in safe sex practices like condoms and contraceptives in real life. safe sex saves lives; i'm not crying, you're crying. honestly, i'm crying though, this was such an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime story to get to write and i'm so, so unbelievably happy with how it turned out and how it's ending. i hope you guys love as much as i do and thank you will never be enough to thank all of you for being so wonderful and kind and invested in this story as much as i was. i think it's so amazing, the pantheon is truly a one of a kind story. thank you so much for doing it with me. and so ends the pantheon.

perma. taglist: @ducksstolemybread @dr0wnme0ut @pockettwinzz @emi-en @lilyuwon @deobitifull @oddracha @skzenhalove @nyfwyeonjun @bunhoons @ministrawberrywithchocolate @heeshlove @nshmrarki @avaleyshin @zeeloveshee @nyxtwixx @enha-bie @manifestobackshot @onlyuyu @in-somnias-world @hoonmine

"Not really. Caught a session with Dr. Bahng, I'm sorry about dinner." He loosens his tie, trying to ignore the way your eyes follow his fingers. He takes his wedding ring off for work – insisting it snags on the gloves when gathering evidence, that he never wants to sully it with such grime. "How was your night?" Your sigh may be inward, but his eyes catch everything. Every frustrated twitch of your brows, the way your nose crinkles at the half-assed apology. Your eyes linger on the linoleum floor, and he fights the urge to pull you into his arms. He fights the urge to show any weakness to your feelings, he can't let go of work. He has to be strong, he has to be coarse, he has to be cold.

"It was…fine." You wave him off, moving to take the full plates off the table. Only then does Heeseung notice that you're still in your jeans, your white top neatly tucked into them. Your feet are clad in fresh socks, almost as if you were about to go out when he arrived. His eyes scan you as you move around, pulling his tie completely off and bunching it into his pocket. "Are you going out with your friends?" You don't reply as you scrape the cold food into the trash can, and he focuses on the sound of your bracelet lightly clinking with the handle of the fork. Your shoulders sag, soft curls of your hair sweeping over your face as you move to place the dishes in the sink. He sighs, before his legs move him behind you. "Why are you upset, honey?" "I'm not, I'm not upset." You scoff, turning the tap to hot when you feel Heeseung's hands ghost over your waist. You knew better than to attempt to hide anything from him, especially with the way his brain was literally trained to analyze your every movement. His lips press softly to your cheek as his fingers untuck your top, "I know you better than that." You're silent as his fingertips trace the soft skin of your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder. He's going to wait until you decide you want to talk, despite knowing it will be the same argument you have every single week.

The same argument that always ends up unresolved as you kiss in your bed, sheets tangled between your bodies. It's enough to hold off on actually talking about it, it's enough to semi-satisfy the lack of attention you got from him during the week. It wasn't enough to feed his unvoiced, almost insatiable hunger for you, and how he wished he could just douse you in his love and affection until the sun rose. It wasn't nearly enough, because he'd still have to pry himself from the comfort of your warm embrace to step foot in the precinct and inhale the stench of evil in the world.

He felt awful, really. That he could never truly show you how much he loved you, how emotionally constipated his job made him…how his sessions with Dr. Bahng were no longer of much help. "Leave work at work, Lieutenant. You have the love of your life waiting for you at home." He had it memorized at this point.

"It's always the same thing, don't worry about it." You turn the tap off, feeling the guilt about wasting water seeping into your stomach. You weren't going to wash the dishes, you knew you weren't. You just wanted to lay down in bed with your husband, basking in the few minutes of attention he'd be able to give you before falling asleep. 

"Baby." You wince at the pet name, one so foreign on his lips. One you so rarely heard, long lost in your college memories. You grimace as you turn in his hold, his hands now resting on your hips. "Don't baby me, Heeseung." "Don't Heeseung me, Y/N. I know something is bothering you, and whether it's tonight, tomorrow, or next week – I'm not letting you go to bed like this." He looks at you through tousled locks, his eyes speaking for him. Just talk to me.

You shake your head in subtle disbelief, attempting to push past him when he pins you against the counter gently. "Let me go, Heeseung." "Not until you tell me what's going on." His voice is harsh, one he also rarely uses with you. Heeseung was always gentle, soft-spoken. "I've been at work all day, dealing with shit I can barely stomach. I just want to come home and spend time with you, what's wrong?" He's starting to whine, and it does nothing but make your eyes sting with tears.

"I just want to spend time with you, without having to beg you for it." You breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his gaze. "You remember everything, Hee. I know you had to remember that tonight is date night." Sighing, you peel your eyes open to a guilty husband watching you with his own tired ones.

"I'm sorry, honey. It really did slip my mind. Let me…let me just take a shower and we can go have a night on the town, okay?" He starts to walk away, fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt when you clear your throat. "It's fine, Heeseung. Let's just go to bed."

"No, let me fix this. We haven't had dinner, and we haven't spent time together in weeks." He slips his dress shirt off as he leaves your line of vision, and you just slump against the counter. He was right, and you hated that you knew he was. Heeseung was always this way, though, shouldn't you be used to it by now?

Yes, he was gentle and soft-spoken, with a touch of dirty humor and thoughtfulness that always made your heart race a little faster. Your relationship was built on a lot of comfort and deep talks, ones that usually involved you unraveling yourself entirely just to get a taste of his own secrets. The two of you had met in college, about three days after the disappearance of his childhood best friend, Cha Soyoung.

Heeseung was even more cold and stoic, and wasn't interested in so much as even befriending you. He didn't really speak, which according to his friends, was unnatural. They wound up being close friends of yours as well, thanks to Park Sunghoon, and the seven of them all also ended up working at the same precinct. "Heeseung talks…a lot. Not as much as Jay, but he's just going through a hard time right now." Sunghoon said as he sipped his drink, carefully chewing the tapioca pearls as the two of you walked. "It's not everyday your best friend of twenty years goes missing, you know?"You had shrugged, not really understanding what it was like. Your parents had moved you around a lot as a kid, and it was hard to make friends until they finally settled when you got into your last year of high school. You had met Sunghoon there, but only met the rest of your friends through him that following summer – except Heeseung. He'd gone home with Soyoung for the summer, returning to Seoul for the fall semester at Decelis University with her and your other friends. You still never spoke, until now.

You and Sunghoon were swinging by his dorm to help pass out flyers.

"Hey, Hoon. Y/N." Heeseung spoke quietly as he opened the door, his eyes nearly swollen shut from crying for the past three days. Your jaw dropped as you looked at his face, not at all recognizing the boy in front of you. Sure, you'd only ever seen pictures of Heeseung but you knew enough to know that this…wasn't him. Neither you nor Sunghoon spoke as Heeseung moved for the two of you to follow him, shutting the door behind you.

"How are you feeling?" Sunghoon asked as he trashed his drink, your own now sweating on a coaster on Heeseung's coffee table as the man gathered things around his dorm. You stood awkwardly as you swung your backpack onto the couch, opening it for Heeseung to slide the flyers in when you saw him shake his head. 

"I don't feel much, actually." 

Sunghoon glanced at you, but your legs moved before you could think. You rounded the table to Heeseung, who looked at your extended arms and empathetic eyes with cold ones. He'd set down the papers in his hands, fingers splayed across them momentarily before turning back to you and awkwardly entering your embrace. Your fingers easily found the nape of his neck, and his rigid form quickly softened as he breathed shakily into your shoulder. "M'Sorry." He mumbled as you felt a few tears soak through your shirt, and you just shook your head. 

Sunghoon also wound up wrapping his arms around the two of you. Something about the way that Heeseung's fingers clawed at your sides, and the way he sobbed into your shirt made you wonder how long he'd needed someone. Someone to ease the knot in his stomach, someone to help him see that this was something that would be solved and everything would be okay again. Someone to help him hop along until Soyoung was found, and someone to leave when she inevitably took her place again.

That was nine years ago. You and Heeseung began dating a year after that happened, a couple of months after the anniversary of Soyoung's disappearance. The police stopped looking, ruling her case as a runaway. You and Heeseung never stopped searching – you frequently asked cafe owners if you could pin missing posters on their corkboards, and even went door to door every few evenings asking if anyone had seen Soyoung. 

Heeseung had made it to the side of the law, and frequently reviewed the case to see if he had missed anything. He never had – you had all hit a dead end. Everyone's hope began to dwindle, but Heeseung never let that sway him. He even asked the forensics department to make age-progression posters, and they did. You'd pinned those up, too.

He was strong willed, he was diligent, he was determined. You love Heeseung, you love the person he is…

…But you hate that he can't leave his work at work. You hate that you get a crumb of his affection every few nights, whether it's his lips pressed against your cheek after dinner or his teeth nipping at your clavicle while hovering above you in bed. You hate that you find yourself longing for him even more than you did in college, despite now having him in the deepest way – as your husband, the person who loves you. 

The man who shed a singular tear as he watched you walk down the aisle, the man who supported you when your career wasn't what you expected. The man who endlessly told you he loved you in ways that weren't so evident to the naked eye – like leaving the warm water for you and showering in the ice cold, leaving the last slice of cake for you, rubbing your feet while watching Law and Order with you on days he didn't work (read: on days you pried him out of the home office.)

Heeseung loves you, you know that. You just can't shake the feeling that it won't be for much longer.

"Tuck in your shirt."

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look up to see your husband now unrolling a pair of clean socks, speaking around a wide toothed comb between his teeth. He drapes the socks over the back of a chair, eyes glued to his reflection in the hallway mirror as he combs through his hair quickly. 

Rolling your eyes, you tuck in your shirt haphazardly as he parts his hair down the middle. "You can't go out with your hair wet, you'll get sick." You call as you make your way down to the bathroom, pulling open one of the cabinets to fish out your hair dryer. "I don't have time to dry my hair. In sickness and health, anyway." Heeseung yells down the hall, and you bite back your chuckle.

"But why make yourself sick? Sit, I'll dry it while you put on your socks." You untangle the cord, plugging it into the wall as Heeseung pouts. "The sound makes me sleepy! If I'm sleepy, we can't go out." He shakes his head, and you put a hand on your hip as you give him a pointed look. He sighs, tugging a chair towards you and plopping down.

"You're throwing a tantrum like a child. Mom, I don't want to wear my coat! Mom, I don't want my peas touching my mashed potato!" You mock his behavior, making him sulk further into the chair and creasing his shirt. "Sit up!"

He does, and watches you through the mirror as you carefully comb your fingers through his hair. He wonders why you forgive him so easily, why you do these things for him when he doesn't feel like he deserves it. The wasted dinner, the way you roll his socks after doing his laundry (that he insists he can do himself.) He wonders what he's done to make you love him so dearly.

"Where d'you wanna go? Olive You More? Thyme for Love?" His voice leaves the sulky attitude behind, as your fingers card through his damp hair, and you grimace. "Why are all our favorite restaurants so cheesy? It's disgusting." "Well, we could try that new one down by the river. Pasta La Vista, I think it's called." He taps his lips with his fingers, and you catch the glint of his gold wedding band snuggled around his left ring finger. You ignore the way your heart flutters, as you lightly smack his shoulder. "No more pun restaurants! We're not in college anymore." "Ah, but I love going to those places with you. I.." The words get caught in Heeseung's throat, as they always do. He always feels like he's saying it for the very first time, just like he did all those years ago in the middle of the woods. You got stuck in a blackberry bush, and it just slipped out.

"You..?" You ask, looking at him through the mirror. Your eyes are full of concern, a look he never stops seeing. It bothers him. "I love you." He mumbles shyly, looking away to pick at his cuticles. He doesn't see the gentle smile on your glossed lips, and feels your soft hair brush his neck as you lean to kiss his cheek. 

"Mmh, I would hope so." "Yah, say it back." He pouts as he turns to face you, and you can only smile wider before you place a chaste kiss on his lips. "I don't need to, you know who my heart calls home. Now, get up. We've got a delicious pasta dinner to inhale, and breadsticks to steal." He doesn't ask you to say it back again, only watching as you walk away with a skip in your step. He knows, he does. He knows you love him, he knows your heart calls him home. He knows you love him.

He's just worried it won't be for much longer.

Saturday, 10:32am.

"Good morning." Your voice is raspy with sleep, eyes still slightly shut as you whisper into his skin. It's a God-given miracle that he's still in bed next to you, instead of slipping out early like a college hookup. 

Unfortunately, that happened more often than not. "Have we always had such shitty curtains? I can't sleep with so much light." He groans, tugging your arm over his head as he moves to snuggle into your chest. His breathing softens as you pull him slightly closer, wrapping your arms fully around his head and shoulders. "Mmh, if you were still in bed by the time I woke up for the day, you'd know." "You know I can't be." He sighs, and you feel the ticklish sensation of his lips feathering over your clavicle. His teeth tug lightly at your necklace, one he gave you for your second anniversary, months after the wedding. He loves that you never take it off. 

"It's not a matter of if you can, it's a matter of if you want to." "Don't pull that, you know I do." He kisses your skin before burying his face into your neck. "I'd never leave this bed if it were up to me." His teeth are once more doing their oh-so routine nipping at the exposed skin of your shoulder, before you shift out of his reach. "We should get breakfast."

You turn onto your back, stretching your arms above your head with a soft yawn. Though blurred with fatigue, your eyes see Heeseung perfectly, his head resting lightly on your stomach. His fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear, thumb slightly slipping beneath to rub at the skin of your hip. Your tattoo peeks through, one Heeseung never lets you forget you have. His faded initials mock the both of you. "Or, counter offer: you can be my breakfast." 

You snort, propping yourself up your elbows to get a good look at the man now in your lap. He's pressing soft kisses around your navel, eyelashes fluttering slowly as his lips pepper around your warm skin. "Hee, you barely ate dinner."

"I've barely eaten you. I'm a man deprived, please?" His eyes finally peer up at you, and you scoff out a laugh, running a hand through your mussed curls. You shake your head as you tongue your cheek, allowing him to pull at the hem of your panties once more. "I'm not above begging, if that's what it takes. You know I'll do it." "Just take them off, you big baby. You're cheesy as shit, too." You roll your eyes as he grins, a playful bite to your outer thigh as he begins to move you around as he pleases. 

"Open." He kneels on the bed, knuckles rapping on your knees to part them. You can't help but roll your eyes again, but comply as he tugs down your underwear. It flies somewhere across the room, forgotten in a corner to gather dust, Heeseung completely unaware as he lies on his stomach.

"I've missed this." He sighs, before placing a chaste kiss on your inner thigh. "I miss you, most of all. I promise I'll be home earlier this week, baby." He doesn't give you a chance to respond as his tongue quickly finds home between your legs, softly licking at every inch he can reach. Your lip is tucked beneath your teeth, fingers grabbing at anything you can…

When his phone starts ringing. He groans into your skin, the vibrations making you shiver as disappointment takes over. He ignores the sound, choosing to pull you closer onto his face when you push his shoulder with your foot. "Just answer it, Hee." "I don't want to." His voice is muffled as his tongue collects your forming arousal, a soft moan from his throat as you squirm in his hold. "H-Hee, what if it's important?" "What if it's not? What could possibly be more important than you and I at this very moment?" His eyes are filled with a mix of annoyance and desire as he rests his cheek against your thigh. You hate the pitiful groan that escapes your lips as you reach for his phone, answering it for him. "Work." 

Sighing, he moves off the bed as he takes the call, motioning for you to stay as he speaks. "Go for Lee."

Complying, you simply become a jellyfish of a human, sprawled across your bed. You wonder why you answered the phone for him, why you pushed him to take the call. It bothers you that even now, you have begun prioritizing his work over your relationship, when you both promised each other that your love, affections and time for each other would never dwindle.

You can't say it has, though, at least for you. You love Heeseung, one could even say that distance has made your heart grow fonder. Not seeing him often has made you a bit more independent, and every time you find yourself eating dinner at the table alone, you're reminded of your mother. 

How she berated you for marrying for love and not stability, how she shamed you for abandoning the career that drained you of everything you had. You dislike how easy it was for her to get into your head, so much so that you'd spent all of yesterday applying for new jobs in your field, while waiting for Heeseung to get home – and hopefully have your regular date night.

Not that he was even around to have said date. Sure, he made it up to you…but at what cost?

As you begin to sink into your spiraling thoughts, Heeseung reappears in the doorway of your bedroom. He doesn't speak loud enough for you to hear as he beelines for the closet – a mumble of frustrations spilling from his lips as he rips a shirt off its hanger. Turning on your side, you cover your lower half with the blanket that's no longer warm before speaking to him. "Duty calls, huh?" "Yes." 

In silence, you watch as he buttons his shirt, the muted teal making his skin glow softly. He doesn't look you in the eyes as he revisits the closet, tugging on his favorite pair of brown slacks. A pair you made for him a few years ago, right after leaving your job – and you remember the way his eyes lit up as you presented them. You remember the way he kissed each of your fingertips that night, covered with bandaids from pin pricks. You remember returning home the next day from a girls' day with Chaewon, to find a packet of colorful silicone thimbles, and a few more pieces of glittery, cream-colored fabric laid out on your bed.

Fabric he'd used to make you a dress, with flutter sleeves and a deep v-neckline. Fabric he'd used to sit and carefully hand-stitch the flowy sarong skirt. When did he find the time? He hadn't given you much of a chance to ask questions, before he insisted you put it on and let him take you out for a nice dinner.

It was the last time the two of you truly connected on something deeper than his work or your convenient unemployment. It was the last time that the two of you genuinely laughed together and did things from your younger years, like dancing in the twilight to no music and kissing in every corner possible on the walk home. The last time you wore his favorite perfume, because after that, months passed without a second thought about you.

The silence between you has grown neutral – not entirely comfortable, because who wants to spend their days without hearing the love of their life speak to them? Laugh with them, maybe even get into a bit of a spat with them that shows your relationship is becoming more than just the bare minimum? Certainly not you, and by the way Heeseung robotically loops his tie while staring you down in the mirror, a look of longing in his eyes before turning to you.

"I won't be long, I promise." 

He notes the way your head tilts, the way an understanding smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes takes over your face. "Don't worry, take your time." The way your hair is effortlessly splayed around your head, life's odd attempt at recreating the halo to represent the absolute angel you are. One Heeseung doesn't deserve.

You get up, swinging your bare legs over the side of the bed before grabbing for your bath towel. "I'll get ready for my day, and maybe…" You trail off as your toes touch his shoes – he wore them in the house sometimes, a habit of his you despised. 

"And maybe we can catch lunch together?" He finishes, a shy smile crossing his lips as you place a gentle kiss on his cheek. His arm snakes across your naked waist, fingers lightly pinching your hip as you smile into his skin.

"Maybe. Drive safe."

Heeseung knows that Dr. Bahng told him to leave work at work. However, Dr. Bahng said nothing about bringing home to work. He said nothing about thinking about you at work, or missing you, or daydreaming about you instead of analyzing the reports that a pair of rookies messed up. He also said nothing about reading articles by some sketchy romance columnist on how to keep your relationship alive, which is exactly what Heeseung was scrolling through right now. 

There are things in a relationship that must always be shared in order to avoid, or resolve conflict. How the other person is making you feel, how you are making them feel, and how to tackle both negative checklists properly. It is key to always remember that it must be you and your partner against the problem, not you and your partner against each other.

You make Heeseung feel…alive. You make him feel loved, cherished, and even at some bizarre times, worshiped. You make him appreciate waking up at the ass crack of dawn, your sleeping face relaxed as he peppers kisses across your warm skin – something he's thankful never manages to wake you up, but it adds to all the adoration he holds in his heart for you.

How does he make you feel? Dejected, neglected, rejected. Pushed aside for the true love of his life – work. You never bring it up unless he asks. You never brought it up until last July, when he was slumped in his office chair after drinking half a bottle of sherry whiskey, listening to music and thinking about yet another dead end that deterred him from finding Soyoung. You had approached him with a gentle gaze, a soft touch to his shoulder and asking about taking a shower together. You never questioned him, you never pressured him, you never tried to make him something you assumed he just wasn't – an attentive, doting husband.

And he remembers how he asked you, too. He remembers spinning around in his chair, stoically asking you if he was everything you'd ever wanted. Asking you if he was living up to your expectations, as a husband, as a life partner, as a friend, even.

And he remembers the way you sighed carefully before perching on his desk. "You're everything I've ever wanted, and I'm sure you'll continue to grow and be even more deserving of the love I hold for you." You had smiled, your hand coming to rest on his cheek. "Nothing we can't work through, you know? If I was given a choice in another life, another world – I'd still choose you."

He will never forget it, and he can still feel the warmth of your lips against his as you led him to the bathroom. He can still feel the ache of your love on his skin from the way you held him under the running water, quietly basking in his presence as the mint of your shampoo filled his nose. Nothing is as special to him as you are. 

There are things that should routinely be shared in order to maintain a homeostasis of the calendar. Asking how their day was, if you have any ideas for dinner tonight, or if you'd like to do something this weekend to celebrate the mundane. It shouldn't be difficult to establish a routine with your partner, if you are in tune with them. A kiss goodbye in the morning, a warm embrace in the evenings. A shared meal, a shared bath, a shared bed. 

Heeseung can't remember the last time he fully checked in with you – you always have something to do. You always attempt new creative projects, and his fingers toy with the fabric of his slacks as he remembers that you hand stitched them. He thinks about how you waited for him all night yesterday, and the disappointment you must have felt when he arrived late. He thinks about how he just doesn't make time to tackle the problem that you two are constantly glossing over by being intimate – he knows you don't feel loved. 

He didn't ask you about your day yesterday, or the day before, or last week. He didn't ask you if you were sewing anything new, learning any new pieces on the piano collecting dust in the living room. He hasn't asked about your mother, but at least he knows you don't like to talk about her. 

Heeseung hasn't asked you a single thing about yourself, or your life in a while – and he doesn't know how long it's been. Even last night, your eyes were focused entirely on him – the way his lips twitched when you said you liked the wine he chose, the way he pulled your leg over his in the booth you were sharing. You asked him about work, and he just shook his head as he pointed out the new menu items. 

You love him so selflessly.

Something that works for my partner and I is parallel play. We aren't necessarily doing something together, but we are present in the same room and doing our own thing. Knowing that he is there, and that if I need him, I can reach for him, adds a comfort to our relationship. Aside from this, we also come together every two weeks and address any issues we may be experiencing – both in our relationship and our individual lives. We resolve the issues about us together, and advise the other on our personal issues. Balance!

You do this a lot. If Heeseung is home, you'll wander to wherever he is and sit down where you can, and quietly go about your business. Sometimes it's a new cross-stitch, sometimes it's just putting a headphone in and listening to music. Sometimes you're giving yourself a pedicure, sometimes you're just sitting there staring at his corkboard of paraphernalia while matching your breathing to his. It was subtle, something you thought he'd never notice.

He sighs, exiting out of the tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. Tugging it on, he uses one hand to log out of his computer when he hears three knocks on the door. A lightness of the rapping knuckles similar to yours…and your smiling face appears as you crack open the door. "Surprise?" He hates that he can't bite back his smile, a few of his fellow officers wide-eyed at his expression. He nods silently, and you extend your hand for him when you hear his coworkers whispering about you. With a dejected look, you tuck your hand back into the pocket of your jeans, "Guess we don't want them gossiping, right?" "Right." He mumbles, his own hand twitching around the doorknob as he pulls it shut behind him. He wants to reach for you, embrace the warmth you bring, show you off to the people he often calls his friends. Sunghoon catches his eye, a quizzical look on his face before shaking his head. 

Heeseung reaches for you, but you've already made your way towards the door. Your smile has lessened as you open the door, holding it for him. "How was work?" You ask as he joins you in the cool air, and he wastes no time wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in close, his nose buried in your hair. You hesitate to wrap your arms around him, instead leaning back to try and meet his eyes. "Hee?" "Don't ask me about work." He mutters, before pressing his lips to yours softly. You let out a noise of surprise, but you can't melt into his touch before he pulls away. "I hate talking about work, let's talk about you. Over lunch." He takes your hand in his, gently pulling you to his side as he makes his way to the car. He doesn't see yours in the parking lot, so he only assumes you got a rideshare before you clear your throat.

"Are you okay?" The words are slightly jumbled as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you, helping you step in. "Hm? Why do you ask?" "Well…you're actually out of the office. And you want to go to lunch…and you don't want to talk about work?" Your voice is meek, and it makes his chest ache as he reaches to buckle your seatbelt in for you. "I just want to spend time with you. Shall we?" His smile is a little forced, until he sees the soft gloss of embarrassment over your eyes.  "Okay."

Tuesday, 6:23pm.

You don't really know what snapped inside of Heeseung over the weekend. He even took Monday off, turning off his phone after calling in sick and snuggling back into your embrace. He spent all of Sunday asking you random questions throughout the day, wandering around the house as you tried to pick up to start the week off fresh. He would hold the laundry basket so you could separate the clothing, he would hold the step stool so you could dust the corners of the living room – he even re-caulked the window in your bedroom because you were sitting at your vanity doing your makeup. He seemed restless to get all of these answers out of you, and while you didn't mind, you knew this attention was only temporary.

Duty called, after all.

However…he was home earlier than usual. He typically had his session with Dr. Bahng right after dinner time, but it seems your habit of making two portions is deemed fruitful tonight. He's sitting in front of you, having arrived home thirty minutes prior – showered and ready to share a meal with you. Just like he did this weekend, just like he did when your relationship first started out.

You remember sharing meals with him in your dorm room. Your roommate was almost never there, always spending time with her girlfriend – so you had free range of the entire place. Heeseung slept over almost every night, and the two of you would stay up at all hours of the night – whether it was discussing 80s cold cases or your major.

Your major…it wasn't necessarily hard. It was one of those things that was only difficult if you didn't really like it, if you didn't have a passion for it. It was one of those things that took someone strong, both mind and body. You wanted to help better the world, see how things could change at your fingertips. You wanted to eat the world in one bite, and it simply wasn't possible – no matter your hard-earned master's degree or your passion for helping people. It was a time of realization – and it was funny, that you had the same qualifications as Dr. Bahng, but your career would never bear fruit like his.

You never really made a difference, like Dr. Bahng did. You didn't even get through to your husband like he did.

So when you came home one night a few years ago and saw Heeseung sitting at the table, waiting for you, you wondered if any of the people you helped that day would ever get to live content. You quit the very next day, your mind tortured over people you didn't know and things you couldn't control. It took a while before you got out of your head again – and even longer before you finally left your bed. It was this time when your relationship with Heeseung really tried to prove itself worthy of your time and effort – because though he wasn't home with you, to soothe your swirling anxieties and racing mind throughout the day, he was there.

He was there, with plates of fruit and warm tea. He was there, with a hairbrush gently forking through your matted hair. He was there, letting you cry yourself to sleep in his embrace and leaving early the next morning, with bags under his eyes. He understood, somehow, that you needed him more than ever before in those moments, and it seemed like that version of Heeseung was starting to reemerge – this time, without need.

"Are you hiding something from me?" You blurt, and Heeseung nearly chokes on his bite of food. Coughing, he reaches for his glass of water as you pat his back, offering him a napkin to wipe his lip. Taking a sip of water, he looks at you. "We haven't spoken all day and that's how you start a conversation?" He seems amused, a look you don't see on him often anymore. You can feel the heat of embarrassment crawling up your throat, and he pushes his plate forward, choosing to fold his hands on the table before he clears his throat. "I realize…I haven't been the best husband." You can feel your eyes begin to roll, when he taps the table. "I have never been very good to you, and yet, you've stood by me. Through ups, downs…you helped me out of a very dark place when Soyoung went missing." He clears his throat again, and your eyes catch the way he blinks back a few tears. "And I've given you near nothing in return." "Marriage is not transactional." You say gently, and he shakes his head. "Isn't it, though? In the eight years we've been together, you've given me so much. You take care of me, of our home. You…You can just do it all, and I admire it. I really, really do." He runs a hand through his hair, before reaching for your hand. You allow him to take it, and you hate to admit that a bit of skepticism is beginning to settle in your stomach. 

"Why are you saying all of this? It's never mattered before, you know." Heeseung can sense something in your tone that you don't seem to catch. A hint of…frustration, anger, maybe even resentment. He knows you probably have more to say, and that whatever it was would most likely hurt his feelings.

He kind of wants you to, though, and you do – letting go of his hand. He folds them, his plate abandoned in order to take you in fully.

"Do you not want to talk about this? I can drop it, but it'll just come back up, honey." He asks gently, his head tilted to the side as he scans your face. You suck on your teeth, your fork pushing your food around before you sigh. "Maybe you're right." "About?" He straightens, his hands still folded on the table. You give him a guilty look, though he doesn't know what you could possibly have to feel guilty about. 

"You're right, you haven't been the best husband. Hell, I don't think you've ever even really been a good husband, if we're being honest about it." 

Heeseung doesn't react, and doesn't allow his face to move as you speak. He's finally broken the dam, because now you're rambling and you can't seem to stop.

"Was it ever going to be me, I mean, really? They say that being good to the people you love really takes no effort, that it's not hard to be doting and attentive to the person you love. You have such a hard time being here for me, you have the worst time detaching yourself from work and the cases you see everyday. You come home at whatever time is convenient for you, while I wait for you like an idiot." You blurt, and Heeseung breathes in carefully, so as to not startle you. He nods, closing his eyes.

He can sense the impending lump in your throat. He's never really seen you get angry – frustrated, irritated, even annoyed have all been emotions he's both seen and enticed. You've never been angry, you've never exploded on anybody.

"Do you ever think what your life would be like if Soyoung were still around?" 

His eyes snap open at this, brow furrowing slightly but either you don't notice or don't seem to care, because you keep going.

"Do you think you'd even care about me if she was here? I get it, she's your best friend, maybe even the love of your life. I wouldn't blame you at all if I was just a placeholder until she was found." 

He's watching your face as you speak, the way your lower lip trembles slightly and your chest rises and falls in shallow breathing. Your hands shake as you reach for the plate in front of him, shoving it under your own before standing up.

His chest aches at the idea of you thinking that anyone but you could ever be the love of his life, but can't bring himself to open his mouth and tell you.

"As shitty as it sounds, the more the years pass, the more I hope she's found. Maybe then you will truly have someone to love, someone who will fulfill your needs just as you like. Maybe then I won't have to pretend that I don't know I'm second to someone who isn't around." You murmur, and Heeseung feels his stomach churn a bit as you stand, taking the plates to the kitchen. You place them in the sink, holding the cool metal of the basin before turning back to him.

"I love you, Heeseung. I loved you then, I love you now, and I may love you for the rest of my life." You speak softly, stepping back to the table. You lean on the back of a chair, the necklace hanging around your neck mocking him in the dim light. "But me loving you, will never make you truly happy. I don't need you to tell me, you know? Knowing I can keep you company, knowing that you won't be alone, is fine with me. You don't need to love me."

You smile gently, the gloss on your lips sparkling. It's one of his favorites, it tastes like vanilla.

"You don't need to love me the way I love you, for me to know you care. So, don't worry about it. You don't need to check in with me, you don't need to…reciprocate." You shrug, taking the cups off the table, and turning back to the kitchen. You stop, looking over your shoulder. "And, Heeseung?" He can't bring himself to speak. He tries to clear his throat, but you proceed anyway.  "Don't forget date night this Friday."

Thursday, 12:46pm.

You'd dropped by the precinct randomly, seeing Heeseung hunched over his computer from the entrance. The new receptionist asked you who you were here to see, and you gave his name, holding up the bag of food you brought with you. 

"Lieutenant Lee doesn't take visitors." The receptionist rolls her eyes, and you hear Sunghoon before you see him. "Minseo, this is the Lieutenant's wife."

You whirl around to see your long-time friend, who smiles down at you. "Good to see you again. Dr. Lee." He speaks politely, making Minseo blush furiously as she prints a pass for you. She apologizes profusely, but you just shake your head and give her a warm smile, adjusting your purse on your shoulder.

"How're you, Hoon?" You ask as you paste the sticker onto your jacket, and he shrugs as he drapes his arm over your shoulders. "Could be better, could be worse. However, I did hear from a little bird that you and Heeseung got into a fight." Rolling your eyes, you know that Sunghoon is just stirring the pot. He seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to your relationship with Heeseung – seeing as he was the one who got the two of you together in the first place. 

"We didn't…ugh, we didn't fight. We just…had a conversation. I'll tell you about it, when are you off? We can get dinner." You say as the two of you reach Heeseung's office. He shakes his head.

"Don't put me in the middle. I'll text you though, we do need to catch up." He says, knocking on Heeseung's door for you. You hear your husband's tired voice, and Sunghoon opens the door. "You've got a special visitor." 

You don't miss the way Heeseung's exhausted eyes look up at you, lighting up the moment they land on your face. You almost crack a smile at this, before Sunghoon shoves you in lightly. "Enjoy your lunch, Lieutenant." Heeseung doesn't say anything. The two of you hadn't really spoken since Tuesday night, and he certainly didn't expect you to come by today. Or any day, really…he remembered the first time you ever dropped by the precinct. He'd welcomed you with a tight smile, before asking you to let him know beforehand next time. You didn't do it again, for years.

"Mind if I close these?" You ask, gesturing to the blinds, and he shrugs. He doesn't close out any of his tabs as you set the food down, kneeling on the couch lining the wall to close his blinds. He takes this moment to take you in. You were wearing his favorite dress on you, the pink one with the white-lined circle seams. You're shrugging off your jacket now that the blinds are closed, draping it over the chair in front of his desk. "I brought you lunch, I hope that's okay. I probably should have called ahead." You gesture to the bag on the table, but his eyes just peer over the monitor, his brow twitching up as you sit gingerly on the edge of the couch. He hadn't cleared up or refuted any of your points on Tuesday, but the guilt he felt that night was enough to make him sleep in the guest room. He didn't know that didn't make you feel any better, in your mind it just cemented your opinions as you let your pillow soak up a few stray tears. 

"You look gorgeous." He murmurs as you unpack quietly, uncapping containers and sniffing them to figure out what is what. You stop, holding a bowl of broth to your face when you register what he said. "What?" "I said, you look gorgeous." He repeats himself, quickly typing up a rather unprofessional email to the rest of the precinct and letting them know he'd be leaving after lunch. He shoots it off, exiting the tab before standing up and stretching. His shirt is messily untucked, and he can feel your eyes on him as he twists to relax his back muscles. "Thank you…I think." He shrugs, ignoring the pang in his chest at your uncertainty before glancing over the array of food you'd brought with you. You seem a bit unsure about it all, but they're all his favorite dishes. He doesn't see any of yours – no soft tofu stew, no cold noodles, not even the tea you like. He keeps scanning your face as you prepare everything silently.

"Have you eaten already? I know you don't like any of these dishes." He asks, squatting next to you. You smile down at him, shrugging. "I'll eat at home. You left breakfast on the table this morning, so I figured you'd be hungry."

He had left breakfast on the table, but not for the reason you think. His morning routine consisted of showering, brushing his teeth and washing his face, putting his clothes on and, as creepy as it sounds, staring at you as you slept. He didn't kiss you this morning, like he usually did, but he desperately wanted to. So much so that he lost track of time just watching you sleep so peacefully, and had to run out of the house without it.

"I'm sorry, baby. I was in a rush." He pouts, and you just shake your head. "Don't worry about it. What's one day?"

It's everything. He thinks he feels your cold demeanor seep into his bones a bit, but your eyes are still warm as ever. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes, but your hand ruffles his hair lightly. He lifts slightly to sit next to you, and you press your lips to his cheek, your lipstick stamping on his skin. "You smell nice." He doesn't respond, his cheeks and ears tinging pink as you hand him utensils. Leaning back, you rest your head against the window sill, not noticing he's made no effort to even touch the food you've brought. Still, better now than never.

"I have something to tell you." You murmur, and he hums in response. 

"I figured about as much." He leans back with you, holding a rice cake between his teeth before shoving into his mouth. "Do tell, Dr. Lee." You stare at your manicured nails, the french tip suddenly bothersome to your eyes. "I had an interview this morning, at the fifth precinct. In the next town over. " 

He sits up, turning to face you completely. "Okay. How'd it go? I did hear that Dr. Park was retiring." Not a hint of malice in his voice, just pure curiosity. Encouragement, support.

"They said I can start next week. Three patients a day for two weeks, and then I will take over Dr. Park's patients as well. Well, those who want to transfer over." You don't know why you're nervous telling him this. His eyes scan your face, and you groan. "Why are you staring at me?" "You don't seem very happy about it." He says, tilting his head to the side as he bites into another rice cake. "I am happy about it. I just…it's a little far and I won't be home before you are on nights you're not set to see Dr. Bahng. I won't get to make dinner and I'll be out of the house before you are most days." 

You stop yourself from rambling, watching as Heeseung looks at you intently. He glances at the food spread out on the table, before shoving the other half of the rice cake he bit into his cheek. "C'mon."

He gets up, yanking his coat off the hanger by the door, before opening it. "Where are we going? Heeseung, the food-" "Sunghoon, lunch on me." He calls out the door, before grabbing your jacket off the chair and your purse. Looking at you, he watches as you sit still, confusion on your face before he walks over, draping your jacket over your shoulders. "C'mon, we've got to celebrate. We can go to that French place you love." 

Amused, you shove your arms through the sleeves of your jacket before standing. "Heeseung, you hate that place." Rolling your eyes, you reach for your purse, only for him to grab your hand and pull you in. His lips are on yours, a chaste kiss shared before he leans his forehead against yours.

"But I love you, and I'm proud of you. So let me show you, yeah?" 

You blink up at him, before hearing Sunghoon's grunt of feigned disgust. "C'mon, guys, not in the office!"

"Shut up, man." Heeseung rolls his eyes, lacing his fingers in yours, and you hear the soft clink of metal. Ignoring the bickering between the two men, you look down, you see his engraved wedding band gleaming up at you, having knocked with an old silver ring of his that you'd taken after it stopped fitting him. "You're wearing your ring." "Hm?" He glances down at you, before smiling. "Oh, yeah. I figured…I don't know. I like seeing it, it was silly of me to think the way I did about it."

Sunghoon scoffs at the sudden mushiness, and you look up to see half the precinct staring you down. Heeseung has your lipstick stamped on his cheek, and you feel embarrassed as the two of you get walked out by Sunghoon. Jungwon passes by, doing a double take when he sees the lipstick on your husband's face.

He smiles at you, a knowing look in his eyes as the two of you skirt past. Heeseung stops at the receptionist's desk, her smile disappearing the moment she sees your lipstick on his cheek. He asks her to cancel all his appointments for the day, and to let Captain Choi know that he would be taking the weekend off. She just nods, and Heeseung bids everyone goodbye with a whistle.

"She hates me, you know." You mumble, and he gives your hand a squeeze. “She can hate you all she wants, doesn’t change anything. Waste of her own energy.”

You don’t know what to make of this. In a way, you think you’ve forgotten your husband’s demeanor. Heeseung squeezes your hand again, "Where's your car? Did you take a rideshare?"

His brow is furrowed as he scours the parking lot for your sedan, and you shake your head. "Saving gas, I have quite the commute." He scrunches his nose, before shrugging as the two of you make your way to his car.

He opens the door for you quietly, helping you up and going as far as taking your purse to hang behind his headrest. You always complained about the feeling of the straps against your neck when you leaned your head back.

"So." He starts, his fingers carefully turning the volume dial down as the soft jazz station he plays on his commute bleeds through the speakers. "So…what?" "Why didn't you tell me you were thinking of going back to work? I thought we told each other everything." He says pointedly, as he makes a turn into the street. The light at the end is still green, if he speeds up a bit, he should make it. He sees you shrug out of the corner of his eye.

"Didn't think it'd be important. If I'm honest, I didn't think you'd notice." He doesn't like the twinge of sadness in your voice, but you clear your throat before he can mention it. "Should we take a walk later, as well? The weather feels great." "Yeah, honey. Whatever you want." He nods, his turn signal flicked by his ring finger, and he doesn't miss your eyes on his hands as he makes the turn. "Hee?" "Yes?" "I'm sorry." You murmur, making him glance at you quickly before you turn your head back to look out the window. Before you know it, he's pulling into an empty parking lot behind an apartment complex, ignoring the onlooking eyes of a woman taking her trash out. He parks carefully, turning the car off before turning in his seat to look at you.

"Sorry?" He echoes, and you peer over your shoulder at him. Your eyes are glossed over, and he huffs out a humorless laugh. "Oh, my baby. Come here." His arms wrap around you carefully, your hands coming to cover your face as he tucks you into his shoulder. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N." "I do. I do, Heeseung. I was such a jerk on Tuesday–" Your muffled words stop as he pulls away, his warm fingers circling your shoulders and giving a soft squeeze. "No. You weren't a jerk, you were trying to communicate with me." "Still, I–" "No, Y/N. If anything, I've been a jerk." He huffs, letting go of your shoulders as his back hits the window lightly. "I've never been a good partner to you, and it's so incredibly unfair of me to think that you will just wait and wait until I just feel like being better to you." You blink at him owlishly, adjusting to tuck your legs under you. Your heels now sit on the car floor.

"I have never been good to you. No matter what it is, no matter where I am, I push you aside time and time again. It's like…" He stops, picking at his cuticles before sighing. "I love you so much. It's so hard for me to say and I still feel like some stupid teenager trying to figure out his feelings, but I know. I know I love you and I know you deserve to be loved far more than I can express." You rest your temple against the headrest, "Not everyone goes through what you did, though. I'd be foolish to think loving you would be an ordinary path." "And then you go and do that. God, you're so understanding and it kills me inside." He smiles pitifully, running a hand through his hair. "I want to deserve it. I want to come home and deserve the warm meals you make, I want to lay in bed with you and deserve your touch and your warmth and I want to deserve you."

His eyes sting with tears, and he hears a soft sigh from your lips. Lips he yearns for every second of the day, lips he loves to feel trail along his neck after a long day at work. Lips he pulls whines and moans out of, lips he kisses shimmery vanilla lip gloss off of.

You don't say anything, your fingers reaching for him in his lap. You interlock your hands, bringing his up to your lips and placing a soft kiss on his knuckles.

"I've thought about divorce, you know." You say quietly, his head snapping up to look at you. "What?" "Yeah." You breathe out, your fingers tightening around him. "I thought about leaving, I thought about taking one of the offers I've received in the last seven years for a job in the middle of a new city. I thought about packing up all my clothes, and phoning my mother for help. I figured, if she's my attorney, I can leave everything to you in lieu of me." Heeseung can feel his chest ache as you turn to look at him, your pearl drop earrings swinging with your hair as you do so. He feels like he's in a movie.

"But, I thought about being nineteen with you." "Nineteen?" "Nineteen." You laugh softly, your thumb now rubbing small circles into his skin. You place your other hand atop the pair, enveloping him in your warmth. "I thought about nineteen-year-old me, who saw nineteen-year-old you and felt the world come to a slow, slow stop."

You're staring up into the sky now, the odd sighting of the moon high in the sky at this hour was a good distraction. "I thought, what can I do to deserve him? What can I do to ease his pain, and help him hop through life until his answers are found, until he no longer needs me?" 

"I'll always need you." He blurts, and you nod. "You're selfish like that." He silently nods in agreement, and you speak again. "You're a selfish lover." "I know." He mumbles, not able to look you in the eyes as you sigh. "But, I like it."

"I like that you're selfish." You repeat, and he gives you a quick look. "I like that even when I don't feel loved by you, you wouldn't survive without me. In lieu of me, who?" Your voice is sweet, but he knows your words hold a bit of bitterness. You like the idea of him being nothing without you, and he can't blame you for that. If you'd treated him the way he did you, he'd wish ill upon you until he no longer could. He'd hate you.

"Shall we go?" You ask gingerly, and he nods as he turns in his seat, letting go of your hand. You allow it, buckling in your seatbelt as he readies himself, turning the key in the slot before you clear your throat. "Heeseung?" "Yes?" He hates the eagerness in his voice. He hates how he's like a dog the moment you offer a crumb of your attention, but it's what he deserves. He wants to be a lovesick fool for you, he wants your every word to burn and weigh on him like the heat of a thousand fires.

Your gentle smile kills him as you look into his eyes, a shrug to your shoulders as you let the words slip.

"I love you."

Saturday, 6:43pm.

Thursday afternoon and all of Friday had been rather odd in your house.

Heeseung spent the days trailing behind you, even offering to take you out to shop for outfits for your new job in lieu of date night. You weren't surprised, though – he was always a fan of the way you styled yourself for work. Classy dresses, skirts that fell just below the knee. Long sleeved blouses with jeweled buttons, he felt like a Victorian man going nuts over the sight of your pantyhose-covered ankles.

Tonight, he'd made it a point to get slightly tipsy. You'd gone to a luncheon with your new boss earlier, so you'd arrived just as he was finishing up vacuuming the living room with a half-empty glass of bourbon and Stardust by Ben Webster played throughout the house. He wanted a bit of liquid courage for the conversation he knew the two of you had to have – that is, if he wanted things to start changing for the better.

"Hee?" You called from the foyer, watching as he spun to look at you, face slightly flushed from the alcohol. You let out a laugh, shrugging your coat off as he trekked the living room to greet you. "Babe! How was lunch? I figured I'd clean up here a bit, I know you hate when it gets messy…" Heeseung rambled on about the housework as you gingerly stepped out of your heels, nodding along to his tipsy conversation. You left your shoes in the tiled foyer, walking towards the kitchen for a drink of your own. Heeseung had bought you your favorite sherry whiskey as a congratulatory gift on your new job.

"Wait, let me pour. You must be tired." He stops you from grabbing the bottle off the bar in the kitchen, choosing to skirt around you and open the fridge for a nice cube of ice. You liked two, he remembers. "How was the lunch? Did you eat?" You shrug, "I nibbled. It wasn't very good, it was at that Italian place we don't like." You scrunch your nose as Heeseung hands you your drink, making his lips curve slightly. "Funny, I was going to say we should give it another try." "No way, they fucked up my tiramisu. Remind me to never recommend that place to Sunghoon." You scoff, missing the way your husband's eyes trail your relaxed form as you lean against the counter. "And one of the other doctors was asking me so many questions about myself, it was so annoying. Like, we're not going to be best friends, man." "Like what?" He asks, listening to My Foolish Heart by Bill Evans Trio echo through the house. It was one of the songs played at your wedding, one of the first songs you and Heeseung ever danced to in college. "Oh, Dr. Lee, are you married? Oh, Dr. Lee, do you have kids? Oh, Dr. Lee, what does your husband do? Like shut up! Why does it matter, you're my husband, not his." You roll your eyes, not noticing the way Heeseung's cheeks flush at your words. Downing your drink in one go, you wince slightly, likely from the ice clinking against your teeth but you shake it off. "So, what do we want for dinner?" You poke at his side, and his arm reaches for you. You willingly bring yourself into his embrace, his arms looping around you gently as your fingers hold his t-shirt. "You look so pretty in your little outfit." "Dinner, Heeseung. Use your noggin." You roll your eyes, and he just peers down at you with an odd look in his eyes. Full of…admiration? "You're so beautiful." You feel your cheeks warm as you try to play off his effect on you, clicking your tongue. "I need you to focus here, Lieutenant. Me, your wife, would like dinner." "I heard you, baby." He nods, pulling you closer. You huff, but allow yourself to rest your head against his chest. The two of you had not been…close in this manner in a very long time – you couldn't possibly date the last time he held you like this, it was that long ago. You hate how easily you're melting into him, the warmth of his body, the gentle caressing of his hands to the rhythm of the jazz song playing in the living room.

"Should we get take out? We can watch that movie you like, the one with Al Pacino." He murmurs, carefully tugging the elastic out of your hair, releasing the curls from the ponytail you'd tied back earlier. You nod against him quickly, "And Keanu Reeves?" The two of you look at each other, and he can feel a laugh bubble in his throat at how excited you look as he nods. "Yeah." "Okay! Okay, I'm…gonna go change, and then we can get settled and stuff. Okay?" You blink up at him, your fingers already making quick work of the buttons on your shirt. His lip is tucked between his teeth as his eyes rake your skin, and you scoff, tugging your shirt to cover your chest. "Heeseung! Pay attention!" "I am, baby! I am paying attention!" He laughs, throwing his hands up in defense. "God forbid I want to look at you!" "You're such a man, ugh!" You stick your tongue out at him, turning on your heel when you hear him call after you. "Yeah, well, I'm your man. Deal with it!" You hate how his words make you feel like a teenager as you scamper to your bedroom, quickly discarding your work clothes into the hamper by the door. You can hear Heeseung speaking on the phone in the kitchen, soft thank yous from his lips as you unclasp your bra, sighing in relief as you dig through your husband's drawer when you hear him start walking down the hall. 

"Jesus, warn a guy." He gasps dramatically from the doorway, and you roll your eyes as you tug one of his old band tees over your head. "Heeseung, you've literally eaten my ass." "You said you liked it!" He protests, and you snort. "It was okay. You act like you're so amazed by my boobs, you've seen them hundreds of times." You flip your hair out of the shirt, opening your own drawer to fish out a pair of bottoms. 

"Doesn't make me love them any less." He shrugs, checking his watch. "We have twenty minutes until the food gets here." You look up at him, your fingers rooting through the drawer as you take in his avoidant look. He's nibbling on his lower lip as he stares up at the ceiling fan, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. You scoff, "Honey, we've been together for eight years. If you want to have sex, you can say that." "You make me nervous!" He groans, and you laugh out loud. "What has gotten into you, Lee Heeseung? One week you're begging to eat me out and the next you can't even look at me in my underwear! Are you alright?" You snort as you pull out a pair of his old basketball shorts, and he sighs. "Uhm…Okay, fine. I want to talk about our…sex life? The…uhm, the way we kind of just skirt around all our issues with it." You blink, and you want to tell your heart not to get its hopes up at his words. This will all change in a week, your relationship is beyond fixing.

Right? "Okay. What about it? You don't like that we have sex when we can't communicate?" You nod, pulling the shorts over your legs and letting the waistband snap around your hips. He nods, fiddling with his watch when you put your hand on his wrist. "I need you to talk to me, Heeseung. You wanted to talk about this." "It's…" He breathes, running a hand through his hair as you pull him to the bed, sitting down as he slots himself between your knees. His fingers toy with the hem of the shorts you're wearing, clearing his throat. "I don't want you to think I don't…enjoy it. I love…being with you, in any way you'll have me." "Uh huh?" You interlace your fingers with his, his eyes avoiding yours. "I…want to stop doing that. I know that it's a big part of how we stay connected, uhm, intimately. I know I haven't been making much time for you outside of the bedroom and that's something I want to work on." You can feel your heart pick up a bit.

"So…you want to stop having sex altogether? Or you'd like to…fight and make up?" You tilt your head, feeling a wave of nervousness begin to seep into your stomach. He shakes his head quickly, "I don't think I could ever…I'd like to fight. A lot. As much as we need to." He blinks rapidly, eyes still avoiding yours when you nod slowly. "And…you want to have sex spontaneously? Do you want to schedule it? Do you want to–" "I'm good with whenever. You can have me anytime you want, even if you don't want to have sex for the next year. I'm all yours, whenever." He interrupts, his cheeks burning pink as he clears his throat. You narrow your eyes, "Oookay. You know that goes both ways, right?" "I don't think you understand the willpower it takes not to be all over you every single second of my waking hours." His eyes are now squeezed shut, and you can feel your own cheeks warm as you feel his fingers flex around yours. You let out a soft ha, before nodding. "O-Okay, sure." "So…we're okay? Can we start taking things a little slower?" He asks with a wince, and you nod. "Absolutely." He nods, "Cool, cool. Uhm…I'll wait in the living room for you, okay? I'll set up the movie." He pulls away with a gentle squeeze to your hands, a soft smile playing on his lips as he ducks out of the bedroom. You feel your stomach sink a bit, but out of relief. You feel…lighter.

You didn't mind the once-a-week sessions with Heeseung. He'd come home, the two of you would be particularly agitated – you because you felt pushed aside, Heeseung because of work, because he didn't have enough time for you, because he just wanted to feel some sort of peace. You'd try and start a conversation, only for him to push you back on the couch or the bed, or even the carpet in your living room and kiss you breathless. His tongue would slip into your mouth with practiced precision, his hand pinning your wrists above your head as he begged you to just let him take care of you.

You didn't mind because every touch from him was just right. His lips dragging against your jaw, his fingers shoved down your pants while he whispered sweet nothings. You don't know if Heeseung remembers any of the things he says during sex – how much he loves you, something he can't openly say when he's fully in his five senses. Despite feeling the way you did about your relationship with Heeseung, sex was never something you had to feel worried about – he would get just as drunk off you as he did his favorite bourbon. Sex with Heeseung was like a rollercoaster, even the very first time. He knew every button to push, every spot to caress, to kiss, to bite. He made you feel like you were swimming in a pool of lust and love and you couldn't help but cry during the middle of it all sometimes, only to feel his tongue carefully collecting your tears. "You're so pretty."

Shivering, you fan at yourself before sliding off your bed, making a beeline to your bathroom. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him softly swaying to yet another jazz song as he drapes one of your favorite blankets across the couch. You can't help but smile inwardly, shutting the door behind you as you look at yourself in the mirror. Sighing, you grab for your face wash, not able to stop thinking.

Heeseung does love you. He does, even if he's not good at saying it. He does, even if it means he bruises the stupid tattoo you got of his initials with how tight he holds your hips. He does, because he lets you claw at his tattoo of your initials on his shoulder. You still remember being drunk out of your mind when you stumbled into the studio to get them done.

And you remember that being the first sign that being with Heeseung was not temporary. You hadn't even had sex at that point in your relationship – choosing to cement your relationship with a permanent reminder. One that you knew was under his shirt even when his ring wasn't on his finger, one he knew was just under your panties even when you were mad at him for not spending time with you.

"Baby! Food's here!"  You hear Heeseung call as you reach for your moisturizer.

Baby. A silly pet name you'd missed dearly, a silly pet name he'd used three times just today. "Coming!" You call, quickly wiping the sink of water and opening the bathroom door, scurrying out. He's sprawled across the couch, the containers of takeout spread out on the coffee table in front of him. His hand is messing with the remote, typing The Devil's Advocate into your Amazon Prime account. 

"Hey." He murmurs, feeling you press a kiss to the crown of his head. He doesn't know why he's so nervous – he's literally seen you naked. You ruffle his hair, before rounding the couch and sitting gingerly on the floor. You didn't like to eat on the couch, Heeseung knew that. You slid in front of him, your shoulders pushing his knees apart as you rested your head on the left one. He says nothing, only leaning back as he presses play on the film.

The silence between you is comfortable. You're chewing carefully, soft gasps from your lips as if you hadn't watched this movie hundreds of times. He can't help but think if this was what he was missing out on while he was at work. You, dressed down in his clothing, holding your mouth open around a particularly overstuffed pork bun as Al Pacino dips his fingers into Holy Water.

"You're cute." He murmurs to himself, and you lean your head back slightly, a bit of hoisin sauce on the corner of your lip as you chew. "Hm?" "You're cute, babe." He shakes his head, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You blink at him, before twisting to look at him properly. Your brows furrow as you swallow, and you click your tongue. You give him a suspicious glance before turning back to the television, shrugging your shoulders as you lean back again.

He likes this. He could get used to it.

Heeseung cleaned up after you finished eating. He even ran the water for your shower, opting to go in after you. You'd pouted, asking him to go in with you – but he insisted he still had things to finish up before he could even think about winding down.

However, when you arrive in the bedroom with your hair wrapped in a towel and a baggy shirt over your shoulders, he can't help but take a peek. He sees the lavender trim of your underwear from his stance in the closet as you bend slightly to fish out a pair of sweatpants, his fingers tightening around the hanger in his hand. It breaks, the crack making you suddenly look up.

"What was that?" Your eyes are wide, scanning him as you pull out a random pair of shorts. He sheepishly hides his hand behind his back, shaking his head quickly. "Nothing, honey. Oh, I saw that you were running out of your serum…thing. The one for your hair, it's in the drawer." He pressed his lips together as he nodded, and you squint at him before opening the top drawer. Sure enough, the Biosilk bottle sits pretty, wrapped in the bag you knew was from the beauty supply store. You take it out, but see Heeseung grimace in the mirror. You peer at him, before seeing the broken hanger in his hand. Rolling your eyes, 

"Maybe if you weren't so busy trying to get a peek at my underwear, you wouldn't have broken that." "Shut up." He scoffs, cheeks heating as he skirts out of the closet, throwing the hanger away in the trashcan by the door. You just shake your head, unwrapping the bottle as he appears next to you. "It's that one, right?" "Yeah, Hee. Thank you." You nod, placing it closer to the mirror. You look up at him through the mirror, noting the way he's gazing at you lovingly. "You're staring." "So?" He shrugs, and you scoff. "Get in the shower, Heeseung. I'm sleepy." "Don't fall asleep without me!" He presses his lips to your temple suddenly, and you don't get a chance to react before he's gone. You hear the door shut behind him, and you quickly grab your phone from its spot on the nightstand, abandoning the shorts you had in your hand on the dresser.

Msg To: Park Sunghoon [9:32pm] please please tell me you won't call hee in to work tmrw

You nibble on your lips, watching as Sunghoon reads the message. His chat bubble pops up, then goes back down. 

Msg From: Park Sunghoon [9:33pm] i'll run it by the guys here in a bit, and i'll let you know. cool?

You don't reply, only giving him a thumbs up reaction. Setting your phone down, you move around for your night routine. Moisturizer, curl cream…before the large bed behind you calls your name as a siren does to shipwrecked pirates.

Flopping face down, you sigh into the pillow. You weren't ready to start working on Monday – you weren't ready to leave the comfort of your home, to talk to people all day about their problems again. You weren't ready for your mother to find out through her connections that you're practicing again.

You weren't ready to stop making two portions of dinner for your husband who wouldn't get home on time, you weren't ready to not be kissed all over in the morning even though he thought you were asleep. You'd never sleep through something so tender.

"Babe, I said don't fall asleep!" You hear Heeseung whine, and you groan into your pillow before flipping onto your back with your eyes closed. "I'm not sleeping! I'm just…resting my eyes." "That's sleeping." He's closer now, and you feel his lips press on your forehead. "It's fine, we have all day tomorrow." "If they don't call you into work." You grumble, and he pinches your cheek, before you feel your husband's lips brush the shell of your ear. "You should never trust Sunghoon to relay a message." "Fuck off!" You whine, shoving him away as you open your eyes. His hair has been dried, his bottom half tucked into a pair of flannel pajama pants. He's holding an old tshirt in his hand as he rounds the bed, "You're not planning on sleeping on top of the duvet, are you?" "Some of us get hot at night." You scowl, but a yelp gets caught in your throat as you feel him yank you to the edge of the bed by your ankle. You narrow your eyes as you look up at him, seeing your husband smiling down at you with a tilt to his head.

"Why the attitude, princess? Something wrong?" 

He's talking down to you, something that makes your cheeks heat. You furrow your brows, scoffing as you prop yourself up on your elbows. His hand leaves your ankle, splaying on the skin of your thigh. "Why would anything be wrong?" He shrugs, his smile still digging into your very bones. "I figured I'd ask, since you begged Sunghoon not to call me this weekend." "Sunghoon is a rat, you know this. Remember when you pushed Jay's head into his birthday cake and Sunghoon immediately dogged you? Why would you believe him?" You try to rationalize your way out of answering his questions, but Heeseung nods as if he's understanding. "You're right, baby. I shouldn't believe him, someone who snitches everyone out because he believes there aren't enough honest people in this world." You scoff at his pointed look, knowing that Heeseung likes the little game you play. He likes cornering you, he likes giving you no way out. He likes the way your skin gets a little warmer under his touch.

"Okay, fine. I admit it!" You groan, falling back onto the bed. "God forbid I want to spend some time with my husband before I'm sent away." You drape your arm dramatically over your eyes, hearing Heeseung laugh above you. You hadn't had a night like this in so long, you can nearly feel the stupid butterflies from your college days floating back around you.

"You're going to work, you're not being shipped off to another country." He removes your arm from over your face, revealing your scrunched nose. He kisses the tip of it, seeing your cheeks bloom pink. "Yeah…" You sigh, before gently placing your hands on Heeseung's cheeks. He smiles down at you, "Yeah?" "I'll miss you." You admit, and his eyes soften as he captures your lips softly. His hands move to your hips, squeezing softly as he pulls back. "I'll miss you too, baby. It'll just take some getting used to." "Will you drive me on Monday?" You blurt, seeing his eyes widen as he nods quickly. "Absolutely. How early? Six? Seven?" You did not expect him to agree so fast. "Uhm, I have to be out of here by six-thirty to get there before the clinic opens." Your husband nods, and you watch the way his eyes move around as he does calculations in his head. "So…we'd be up by five?" He nods to himself, and you shrug. "You don't have to, I'm sorry I brought it up." "Kindly shut the hell up." He rolls his eyes, and you mimic his actions, pulling him back down to your lips. You don't say anything, only kissing him gently as his fingers toy with the hem of your underwear. You can tell he's holding back, not wanting to have this moment go like your usual nights together. He can't stop kissing you back though, and you can feel him slightly rutting against your leg.

"You're humping my leg." You whisper into his lips, and he shrugs, his fingers tugging down your underwear in one swift motion. "Don't care. Lie down." He pushes you back, quickly pushing your shirt up your chest until you get the hint and slip it off.

"What happened to taking it slow?" You tease as he kisses down your stomach, hissing as he nips just above your belly button. "This is slow, but if you want me to stop, I will." He looks up at you, eyes dark. You shake your head, earning another nip from his teeth.

"Words, princess." You flush deeper, nibbling on your lip as you speak. "Keep going." He raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. "Please." "You're such a brat." He rolls his eyes, before sinking to his knees on the carpet. He pulls you closer to the edge of the bed by your knees, one of your legs over his shoulder as he kisses down your thighs. You're squirming, earning a quick slap to your leg. "Stop." "S-Sorry." You mumble, feeling him nose at your pussy. He inhales deeply, a groan from his lips as he places a soft kiss on your clit, a sharp breath caving your stomach in. "Pretty, always so pretty for me." 

You don't get a chance to respond to his muttering, feeling his tongue drag purposefully through your folds. You sigh shakily, your fingers finding his hand that rested on your stomach. He laces your fingers together as he licks at you with an agonizingly slow place.

"F-faster." You whine, feeling him smile into your wet heat. "I said I'd take it slow, princess. You can wait, right? Be a good girl f'me." You suck in yet another sharp breath as his pouty lips wrap around your clit, his hand squeezing yours gently as you whimper. Your hips grind carefully against his tongue, taking all your willpower to not beg him to touch you more. "Missed you. Missed this." He murmurs, letting go of your hand to pull you impossibly closer, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he fucks his tongue into your aching center.

"M-Missed you." You whine, your hand finding home in his hair. "Pull it." He mutters into your pussy, and you tug harshly as he groans into you. The vibrations are torture, your whimpers filling the room. He takes his time, and you can feel your thighs threatening to close around his head.

"Want m-more. P-Please?" You gasp out, and you almost feel angry at the way your husband chuckles. "What happened to taking it slow? You're that needy? Can't cum like this?" You huff, yanking on his hair – earning a low moan. He obliges anyway, slipping his pants down as he stands. He towers over you, your eyes wide at his glistening lips as his hand snakes down between your legs. You shake your head, pulling it away as he laughs breathily. "Baby, I can't–" "I can take it. Please? I can, I promise." You beg, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He watches as you lick them clean, your tongue snaking around his wedding band. You're really and truly his for the taking, loving, fucking.

He shudders, leaning to kiss you softly. Your lips only taste of sin, your tongue sliding into his mouth with practiced ease. He groans quietly, his hard cock sliding against your soaked cunt as you whimper into his mouth. “Please, please—”

“I know baby, I know.” He murmurs, sinking into you slowly with a choked moan. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, feeling your shaky breathing against his neck. He gives an experimental roll of his hips, relishing in the burn of your nails dragging down his back with a groan. Pushing your hands off him, he pins them above your head, interlocking your fingers.

"I love you." His lips are pressed to yours before you can respond, hips snapping at a menacing pace. Your breath gets caught in your throat, pressing your bare chest to his as he trails his mouth down your jaw. "Can never get enough of you." His soft whispers receive nothing but your whines, your hand squeezing his as he mouthed at whatever skin he could reach. "Could never ask for a better woman." He whispers into your ear, his teeth nipping tirelessly in efforts to burn himself into you forever.

"Can never get you off my mind. Think about you all day, baby." He lets go of your hands, circling his fingers around your thighs and spreading them further. You clench around him, your hands covering your face as a whine slips from his throat, fucking into you harder.

"W-Wanna live in this pussy, fuck." He groans, feeling your gummy walls tighten around him, his hand snaking down to play with your clit. Your moan is sharp, thighs threatening to close around his hips but he forces them apart as your eyes gloss over. "Need you to cum f'me, pretty. N-Need you to cream all over this dick." You open your mouth to speak, only to have it covered by his lips as he leans down to kiss you. He sucks on your tongue messily, feeling your fingers rake through his hair as you pull him back, mouthing at his neck. "W-Want you to cum inside m-me." You mumble, feeling his hips stutter against the swell of your ass, but he quickly falls back into rhythm.

"Y-Yeah? Fuck, want me to fill you up? I'll give you everything, baby. Anything you want, shit–" He whines into your neck, spurred on by your soft whimpers of yeah, yeah – your nails dragging across his back once more, your fingers digging into his tattoo of your initials almost angrily. Your release rips through you with a loud whine, coating his thighs and soaking into the sheets, clenching like a vice around him as he straightens himself.

"Shit, honey–" His eyes are low as he tucks his lip between his teeth, pushing your knees to your chest as he pounds into you, pulling sobs from your throat as he fucks you through your orgasm. His head falls forward as he cums inside you, his fingers finding yours and squeezing like his life depends on it. 

"Fuck." He mutters, pressing his forehead to your chest, the room filling with sounds of your panting and his lips trailing wetly along your shoulders and neck. "When did you…have you ever done that before?" "I don't think so." You breathe out, and his skin feels sticky but he doesn't care. "What…" He straightens, bearing his weight on his elbows as he peers down at you. You're glowing softly, your eyes slightly lower than when you'd started, lips swollen from his teeth pulling at them. "What changed? How can I be better?" Your cheeks flush deeper, shaking your head gently. "I don't–" "C'mon. What was it? You've never had complaints before." He says pointedly, and you smile. "Nothing to complain about, you always do well." "But?" He probes, his eyes locked on yours, and you sigh, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead. "I don't know, Hee. I guess…I just like when you talk to me." Communication.

His eyes narrow as he thinks, thinking back to all the times you've had sex. He's sure he's spoken to you then, likely incoherent, pussydrunk babbles–

"When you said…" Your voice fades, closing your eyes as you shake your head. "Nevermind." "I could never ask for a better woman." 

It dawns on him, looking back down at you. Your eyes avoid his as you gently thumb at a red line down his shoulder, cause of your fingernails, but he tilts your face with his hand. His fingers squish the fat of your cheeks, a tear slipping from your eyes as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. "I could never ask for a better woman, my love." Your eyes flutter closed as he peppers kisses across your face, tears continuing to fall as he kisses your cheeks. "I love you, okay? I'm so fucking sorry for making you feel like you're not the most important thing to me in this world. I'd die for you, I'd kill for you, okay?" You nod silently, but your lip curls into a smile as he buries his face into your neck. "I'm not a thing, Hee." "Shut up." He whines, and you laugh. "I love you, too. I could never ask for a better man, ever." "God, don't. We won't leave this bed." He groans, and you nip at his earlobe, sucking it gently. "You promise?"

Monday, 5:32am.

He did promise.

You and Heeseung did not leave your bedroom once on Sunday. Well, he did – when he grabbed the food delivery you ordered, and to get you water on multiple occasions. You changed your sheets twice only to ruin them again, the sex messier and wetter the longer you and Heeseung went at it. He took everything you gave him in any position he could fold you into – but nothing beat seeing you laid out on your back, his fingers bruised into your hips and love bites blooming all over your body. He liked admiring you from above, sure – but he loved nothing more than his face shoved between your legs, suffocated by your warm, wet heat.

Your whimpers were burned into his mind, so much so he could hardly leave you alone when night approached. You practically had to beg him to get in the shower, his only request being that you join him. 

By join him, he meant pressing you against the tiles and sinking his teeth into your neck and shoulders as he slid himself through your thighs over and over again. He bit down your back mercilessly, sinking to his knees behind you and lapping his tongue against your cum-coated cunt like a man starved.

Needless to say, the water ran cold and you had shampoo in your hair for an hour.

He didn't care, though. He kissed you deeply, wanting to feel every inch of you all over him before bidding you goodnight. He wanted to wake up early and make you breakfast, he wanted to pick out your pretty blouse and your heels. He wanted to be involved in your life.

"Rise and shine, baby." He whispered into your hair, holding a plate in his left hand as he pinched the fat of your cheek in the other. You groan, pushing his hand away as you roll onto your back. The duvet slips down, revealing your bitten skin. He caresses it gently, his eyes glued to your face as he goes lower. Your hand catches his wrist before he can cup your breast, peeling your eyes open reluctantly.

"I can't let you near me, you'll fuck me into the mattress." You mutter, making him smile. "Maybe don't beg me to cum inside you, and I'll leave you alone." He holds up the plate in his hand, his chest swelling at your blushing cheeks. "I made breakfast, can you get up now? I want to pick your clothes!" Your eyes widen slightly as you sit up, letting the duvet pool around your belly button as you wipe at your inner corners. "Really? You want to?" "I love seeing you dressed up for work, babe. Can I? I'll make it pretty, I promise." He draws an x over his chest, and he notices how you can't bite back a smile as you take the plate from him. He turns away as you reach for the bedside lamp, clicking it on as he practically skips into your shared closet.

"You're really chipper…" You trail off, shoveling a peach slice into your mouth. He shrugs, holding up two shirts before putting them back. "It's your first day, and I read something a few years ago about marital ambiance. If I'm in a crappy mood, it'll rub off on you. We can't have that, can we?" He smiles widely as he pulls out a black dress you hadn't worn in ages – the sleeves were long and slightly flared, and the flowy skirt ended just above your knee. The neck was high, so you wouldn't be exposing any of your weekend shenanigans. "This one? Haven't seen this in, what, two years?" "We can try that one, yeah." You speak around a mouthful of oatmeal, and he nods as he turns to your shoes. "Are you walking a lot? Or can we go for the Hot Chicks?" He holds up the black leather heels, and you just smile and shake your head. "I'll take my slippers anyway, so we can go with the Hot Chicks." 

"I checked the temperature outside, it'll be a little chilly until lunch time. Do you want pantyhose? Stockings?" He drapes the dress over his arm as he worms out of the closet, placing your shoes on the dresser as he opens a drawer. You like the sight of your husband like this. Excited for you, eager to see you take a step forward after being (willingly) stagnant for so long. You were afraid that maybe he'd discourage it – you'd overheard him talking to Sunghoon once about how your last job nearly made you lose your mind, and how worried he'd been about you.

He wasn't wrong, either – the fact that your impact felt so minuscule just made you feel like you were at home away from home. It felt like your marriage at the time, it felt like you were sixteen again talking to your mother about your dreams and being shut down. It felt bad, ugly.

You finish your breakfast and get dressed as your husband gets ready, his suit jacket the exact same shade of black as your dress, his button-up that cherry red that makes you ache with want. His slacks are pressed, his hair carefully styled as he appears behind you moments later, holding a flat iron to your head.

"No curls today, babe?" He leans against the doorway, and you smile shyly. "No, I think I want something sleek. The curls are not looking too good this morning." "Yeah?" He's not listening, running his eyes down your backside. "Hee. Stop." "I'm just looking, baby." He smiles, and you ignore the way his eyes raking across you make you feel warm. "Well, stop looking. I can't be late, not today." "So, tomorrow?" He asks, and you scoff as you pull the iron down the last strand of hair, running over the ends twice before tossing it over your shoulder. You roll your eyes, unplugging the tool as your husband's hands run over your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Swatting his hands away, you leave the iron to cool as you turn around. 

"Heeseung, I'm serious." You're nose to nose with your husband, who only smiles down at you. "One kiss." "In the car, after my lipstick, when you drop me off." You propose, and he shakes his head. "Right here, right now, before your lipstick and you let me go down on you." "You're insane!" You laugh, pushing him out of the way – but not before he lands a soft smack to the swell of your ass. "Stop! Let me get ready!" "Fine, fine! I'll make coffee." He scoffs, turning on his heel and going down the hallway. 

You shake your head to yourself, wandering back into your bedroom and slipping your jewelry on. Small gold hoops, the same necklace you wore every single day. Your wedding rings, one silver ring with the letter H on your middle left, and one on your right pinky with Heeseung's and your birthstones. A watch that was a gift from your father on your graduation day, the leather band slightly worn and molded to your wrist.

You hear a soft whistle from the doorway, and look up to see your husband biting his lip. "Are you sure you can't be a little late?" "Dude." You roll your eyes, watching Heeseung set down your silver tumbler on the dresser. He slides behind you as you check your earrings carefully, pressing his hips into your ass. “Did you call me dude yesterday? Could’ve sworn it was another word that started with—”

“Heeseung, you’re on thin ice.” You glare at him through the mirror, feeling him grind against you. “It’s almost like I can still hear you.” He hums against your shoulder, pressing a quick kiss before moving your hair out of the way, trailing gently up your neck and nipping at your ear.

“Please, daddy. Want you so bad.” He mocks you, watching your expression change in the mirror. You huff, your cheeks burning as you look away. “Don’t be shy, it was cute. You’re cute, baby.”

“Stop.” You murmur, before feeling his hand gently tilt your face towards his. He kisses you deeply, moving his hand lower slowly. Squeezing your neck softly, you whimper into his mouth before he pulls away, biting your lower lip and watching it spring back. “We’ll run this back later, yeah?”

You nod, earning a smile and a chaste kiss. “C’mon. It’s almost six-fifteen.”

He pushes off of you, his hand lingering on your hip before he leaves the bedroom. You sigh shakily, your fingers fumbling for your lipstick as you hear him jingle his car keys. You shove it into your dress pocket, grabbing your shoes and coffee cup off the dresser and exiting the bedroom.

You shove your shoes on as you reach the foyer, watching Heeseung pull your coat out of the hall closet. “I prepped your bag before I made breakfast, can you check it?”

Everything is there. You let him slip your coat on, pressing a kiss to your cheek and carefully fixing your hair. “What time are you off?”

“I’ll call you?” You say, and he nods. “Ten minutes before?”

“You got it.”

Neither of you say much else as you take a deep breath, opening your front door and stepping out together. You hold Heeseung’s sleeve as he locks the door, your other hand gripping the tumbler he prepared for you.

He turns, interlocking your fingers with his and bringing your knuckles to his lips. “You ready?”

You smile nervously, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Heeseung dropped you off a minute to seven, and even walked you to the doors of your clinic. He waited patiently as you applied your lipstick, puckering his lips cutely for his kiss goodbye. You pressed another to his cheek for good luck.

The day went smoothly. Your first two patients were two young men, both in their early twenties. One with dyed blond hair, the other with a dark brown perm. Both had tired eyes and chapped lips, bitten fingernails. The blond had a tattoo of a girl’s name on his forearm, the brunet two rings through his eyebrow.

Heeseung’s habit of jotting down small details has rubbed off on you.

Your last patient was set to arrive any minute, and you found yourself feeling uneasy. You kept changing the music you played, settling on Paradise by Sade. You smoothed the felt on the patient couch several times, even drawing a pattern in the fabric before hearing the soft knock on the door.

“Come in!”

A woman opens the door a crack, dark brown eyes peering in. Thickly lashed and lined with kohl, she presses her lips into a thin line before opening the door wider. You stand, smoothing your dress before offering your hand.

“I’m Dr. Lee. You must be—”

“I’m Jeon Chaeyoung. It’s on my file.” She mutters, bypassing your extended hand. She sits on the edge of the couch, and you brush it off. A lot of patients were standoffish at first — getting comfortable with someone you were going to share your problems with was always something difficult, you understood that.

“Yes, I know. I’m glad to meet you, I—”

“Can we just get into it? I don’t want all the formalities.” She cuts you off, and you try not to look discouraged as you settle into your chair. “Of course. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

She sighs, picking at her maroon polish. Something about her is off, something is oddly familiar, but you don’t know what. You notice her widow’s peak has been shaved off, and her teeth are a little too well shaped not to be veneers. 

“Well, I’m twenty-eight. I dropped out of university when I was nineteen, and I left my hometown at the same time. Haven’t spoken to anyone since, and I moved to this town last year with my husband.”

You nod slowly, tapping your pen against your notepad. You glance at her file, seeing that she had a few name changes in the last three years. Twice — Jeon Chaeyoung, before that she was Cha Chaeyoung.

Before that, Cha Soyoung.

You choke on your saliva, coughing harshly into your fist. She looks startled, her hands out as you reach for the pitcher of water on the coffee table. You pour shakily, coughing off the side before picking the glass up and taking a sip.

“S-Sorry, sorry. Had a little something. You moved here last year?”

Her eyes are suspicious as you pour another glass for her, sliding it across the table. She takes it tentatively, taking a small sip before holding it in her hands.

“Yeah. I…ran away, I guess. I felt so much pressure from everyone around me. My mother wanted me to be a bigshot lawyer, my father wanted me to take over his company on top of that. My best friend…” She trails off, and you hope she can’t sense how nervous you are. 

“He…ugh. He was so patient and understanding, and he tried so hard to understand me. He was there for me through every bad moment of my life — my mother pressing me to be successful, my father wanting me to take over his company. I couldn’t handle it.”

“So you left. You left everything behind and you started anew.” You say slowly, and she nods, her eyes teary. “I even changed my name. I knew he would look for me, I just disappeared without telling anyone. I think he gave up, but I still…”

She wipes at her nose, and you quickly offer tissues from the table. She takes a few, dabbing at her eyes before the kohl can run. She has the same look in her eyes as your first two patients — tired, scared. Even a bit…remorseful.

“I got surgeries to change the way I look, you know. I have a nose job, can you tell?” She turns to the side, and you can. You can tell, the way her nose no longer has the soft button look, but the straight bridge with pointed tip. But she doesn’t know you know that.

“Not that you’d know, sorry.” She laughs nervously, balling the tissues in her hands. You smile warmly at her. “I got my teeth done. And I even got half a syringe of filler in my lips.”

She puckers them, the clear gloss still shiny against the pink skin. You nod, “They look good, though. How do you feel about the changes? Do you feel more confident?”

She shakes her head, “No. I did it…to hide, I guess. I didn’t want my best friend to find me, I didn’t want anyone to find me. I went into hiding as long as I could, hoping my parents would just forget about me.”

“Mmh. I saw your file, and you said you’ve…changed your name. Why, exactly? Did you want to leave behind the person that was…Soyoung?” You tap the file, trying not to show the way her name makes your tongue taste sour, and she sighs. “They opened a Missing Persons case for me. It made everything a lot harder, you know? I just wanted to disappear and start a new life doing something menial. I know it sounds stupid—”

“Stupid?” You scoff, crossing your legs. “Nothing you feel is stupid, Chaeyoung. Everything and anything you’ve ever felt is valid. The need to run when things get too stressful, wanting to hide away from societal pressures. Everything, it’s valid.”

She lets out a shaky sob, covering her mouth as she breathes in. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry! You’re just a human being. No one can get upset at you for not knowing how to navigate everything, this is your first time on Earth.” You shrug, and she peers up at you through teary eyes. “Can you tell me about yourself? M-Maybe it’ll be easier to get comfortable.”

“Sure!” You smile, eager to give her an update on Heeseung, despite her not knowing. “I’ve been married for seven years. I met my husband when we were nineteen, and we started dating a little after that. I was a stay-at-home wife for the last few years, because my job…”

She stares at you intently, and you rub your neck. “I didn’t feel fulfilled. My mother, quite like yours, had a lot of pressure on me. I was her only daughter, and she wanted so much. She wanted me to marry for money, and she wanted me to pursue a law degree.”

You smile sadly, and she nods. “Did you marry for money?”

“Not at all. I made more than my husband did in my first year as a therapist.” You laugh, remembering how you and Heeseung cheered as the two of you finally had enough saved for a new mattress. It was a silly stepping stone but the two of you were ecstatic.

“What does your mom think of you now? Do you keep in contact with her?” She tilts her head at you, and you shrug. “I don’t care what she thinks, and she doesn’t speak to me. She works distantly with my husband, so he sees her more often than I do. She’s an attorney for the city we live in.”

Chaeyoung nods, slowly. She pulls her phone out, typing quickly and scrolling before turning her screen towards you. It’s a picture of her and Heeseung smiling as kids. They’re dressed as Team Rocket from Pokémon, posing with V-signs next to their winked eyes.

“This is him. He’s my best friend. I haven’t spoken to him since I left.” She sniffles, and you can’t hide the way your smile falters. You feel your stomach sink a bit, realizing that she would always know Heeseung far more than you ever would. She grew up with him, she matched Halloween costumes with him. She held his hand trick-or-treating, she dyed his hair for the first time in grade nine. 

She kissed him when they were seventeen, for the first time ever.

“Are you okay?” She asks, pulling her phone away. You nod quickly, “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just had some memories. I was super into Pokémon as a kid, but I moved around a lot and could never make friends over it.”

It’s not a lie. You collected the cards, played the video games, and watched the Indigo League.

“Do you and your husband have kids? My husband wants to have kids soon.” She mentions, and you shake your head. “No, not yet. We talked about it yesterday, actually.”

You had, in depth. While you were eating the shitty takeout from the diner down the road, he’d asked you. You admitted that you were open to having kids, but wanted to fix your marriage first. He agreed, but mentioned that getting off your birth control would take time to get used to. You nodded in response, saying you’d make an appointment with your doctor and the two of you could go from there.

“But us, first. Okay?” He’d said, holding his pinky out to you. You’d smiled and linked your fingers, “Us first.”

“This is my husband. His name is Jungkook.” She pulls up a photo of a particularly tattooed man, pressing his lips to her temple. He has a lip ring, and several rings through his ears. “He’s cute! Do you feel loved? Fulfilled?”

“Funnily enough, I do. I don’t feel any of the stress or pressure to be…perfect. He…gets me. He engages me, he makes me laugh. We dance together a lot, he sings me to sleep.” She nods, smiling at the photo. “Can I see your husband? Or is that too far?”

You try not to show your hesitation, but the words tumble out before you can stop them.

"Maybe next time, yeah?" She nods quickly, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable–" "Not at all! My husband is just particular, you know. His job stops him from really being a prolific person." You smile, shaking your head as you tap your notepad. It's true, you and Heeseung hardly posted things about yourselves or your relationship on social media. Your friends were all very private due to the nature of their jobs, and it'd do you well to follow that.

The rest of the session goes on without many more slip-ups. She focuses on telling you about her relationship with her husband, how he proposed. Their intimate elopement in his hometown, with just his friends and their girlfriends. You can't count how many times you heard her mention a couple named Jimin and Jeongyeon.

You can't focus on anything but the color of her eyes. How deep they are, how much of her story they hold. You're certain Heeseung would be able to figure her out in a split second, just by looking into them.

"You're very good at this, you know." She says as she tugs her jacket on, and you don't remember her ever taking it off. The hour she booked is almost up, and she looks a lot lighter than when she came in. You can feel the weight of her confessions, the weight of knowing she was alive and well after years of searching for her on your own shoulders.

You don't know if, or when, you should, or could – tell your husband.

"Good at what?" You tilt your head, and she gives you a quizzical look. "At creating a nice environment to share my struggles. I know I mostly talked about my husband, but…it felt nice. To tell someone about him and not have them tell me they already know that about him." You smile inwardly, knowing exactly what she means. "Yeah. My husband…his best friends are also mine. Can't really talk about all his weird little habits without them knowing exactly what I'm talking about." "Oh? You don't have friends of your own?" She tilts her head, and you laugh. "I mean, yeah. But I tend to spend most of my time with my husband. It's like…a really good amusement park. I wanna go on all the rides with him, you know?" She smiles, but you see a slight flash of judgment in her eyes. Feeling your cheeks burn, you clear your throat, closing her file and putting it on the table. "Should I expect to see you here next week, Chaeyoung?" "I'd like that, Dr. Lee. My husband said he'd wait for me, so I'm going to go ahead and relieve him." She nods, before standing. You do as well, walking her to the entrance. She turns on the steps, "Thank you for listening to me." "Any time, Chaeyoung." You bid her a goodbye, watching as she walks out of the clinic with her hands in her pockets to a black station wagon. Leaning on your doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest, you see her husband get out, seeing the way he towers over her. He smiles down at her, tucking her hair behind her ear before pressing a kiss to her forehead. You can make out his lips asking How was it? 

And her own saying I'm coming back next week. I really like this one, honey.

You feel your chest ache as he opens her door, pressing another kiss to her cheek as she pulls her seatbelt on. He shuts the door, and circles back to the driver's side. He looks up, catching your eye. He tilts his head, before smiling and opening his door. He gives you a quick wave, and you put your fingers up as he reverses out of his parking spot.

It looked so easy for them.

She looked so easy to love, he looked so eager to love her. Did people look at you and Heeseung that way, too? Did they think that about you? Sighing, you turn into your office, stretching your arms over your head. You moved around, tidying up as the music you played switched to something that reminded you more of your husband – specifically, No Song Without You by HONNE.

He'd played this song almost every day when the two of you began dating. You remember this song playing in the restaurant you had your third date at. You remember this song playing in the car when he picked you up for your twentieth birthday. You remember this song playing when he asked you to be his girlfriend, and ending just moments before he kissed you for the first time. You remember this song playing when he took you out to the flower field he proposed in. You remember his teary eyes as he knelt down before you, one of the biggest displays of emotion you'd ever seen in him. Most of all, you remember him saying there is no him without you.

You don't realize you've been standing in the same spot for the last two minutes until you hear your phone ring on the desk. You rush to it, picking up the call before even looking at the caller ID.

"This is Dr. Lee." You say, fumbling with Chaeyoung's file and the cabinet. You open it before hearing your husband snort on the other end. "Hello, Dr. Lee. This is Lieutenant Lee, I'm calling on behalf of your taxi service." "Yah! You're not my taxi." You scoff, shoving the file into the J section. He laughs, "I'm outside, baby. You didn't call, so I got worried. I picked up something light, are you almost done?" "Shit, I'm sorry. D'you want to come inside? I still have things to wrap up." You screw your eyes shut, your fingers rubbing at your temples. "Yeah, sure. I'll be right there."

It doesn't take long for your husband to appear at your door, holding his badge in his hand as you type on your computer. You give him a quizzical look, before turning back to the screen. "Did the janitor give you a hard time?"

"You could say that." He shakes head, setting his keys and phone down on your coffee table. He's holding the bag of food in his hand, and you gesture to the room. "It's nice, isn't it?" He looks around, putting the bag on your desk before opening it. "It's a lot bigger than your old office. I like the green…is that Take Me by Miso?" His ears perk at the new song playing through the speakers, and you sigh, nodding your head as you slump in your chair. He nods along to the song before rounding the desk, and pressing a kiss to your hairline. "You don't look very happy, honey. Did something happen?" His hands find your shoulders as he stands behind you, and you move your mouse all over the screen. "Nothing, I'm just rebooking a patient. She…something about her. I don't know." You know your conscience won't let you hide this from Heeseung very long. Granted, you're protected by the law if you do tell him, and it's the right thing to do.

Something in your heart doesn't feel right.

"Jeon Chaeyoung." He reads, and you nod. "Jeon Chaeyoung." "What's her deal?" He asks, making you pout up at him. "If I tell you, I'm violating our patient-provider contract." He gives you a confused look, before leaning down, brushing a kiss to your cheek. "I'm sensing a but, here." You sigh, exiting the schedule and turning the monitor off. "Let me make a scenario for you, yeah?" You stand, kicking your heels off as you walk onto the carpet under the coffee table. He nods slowly, before moving to the patient couch, taking a seat as you pace.

"Let's say, you're looking at someone in a line-up, yes?" You turn to him, and he nods. "Okay. What am I looking for?" "Something familiar. You know the perpetrator and you've known them for ages. I mean, damn near your entire life." 

Heeseung's eyes scan your face, before humming. He leans back, resting his elbows against the back of the couch. "We have a saying about eyes, I guess. That they never lie, you know. Eyes are the windows to the soul and what not." 

"So if I show you a picture of me and a bunch of other people, and cover everything but our eyes, you'd know which one I am?" You feel like you're starting to sound a bit like a maniac, but your husband nods. "Of course I would. I love your eyes. I look at them all the time."

You nod quickly, before breathing out shakily. "When you were nine, what did you dress up as for Halloween?" "What?" He scoffs out a laugh, "What does that have anything to do with what we were just talking about?"

You kneel in front of him, and he sits up quickly, taking in your serious expression. "Babe, what is going on?" "Did you match with Soyoung?" You murmur, picking at his slacks. "Were you Jesse from Team Rocket?"

Heeseung's brow furrows as he takes your hands, the clink of your rings grabbing your attention. "Y/N?" "It's her. She changed her name and she changed her face but it's her, Hee. I know it is, I can tell by her eyes and she showed me the two of you dressed up for Halloween as kids. That picture your mom has framed in her office." You squeeze your eyes shut, sinking back from him. His fingers squeeze yours gently before he scoffs. "Y/N…Honey, I really, really need you to think about what you're telling me right now." "I am, Heeseung! This is just as important to me, you know that! Countless sleepless nights, thousands of posters put up every single weekend just for her to waltz into my office today and tell me about her life!" You rip your hands from his, standing and walking to the file cabinet. You fish her file out, opening it and thrusting it into his hands.

He takes it reluctantly, his eyes scanning the file with a frown on his lips. 

Emergency Contact: Jeon Jungkook –  Cell: 010-1997-090 Work: 010-2013-0613 Relationship to Patient: Spouse

"She's married." He mumbles, flipping to the next page to her insurance information. He sees her name changes, before and after her marriage. His tongue pokes his cheek gently as you sit next to him, your ankles crossed as you sigh.

"This is rather anticlimactic." You mumble, leaning your head against his shoulder. He hums in response, thumbing the print of her electronic signature. "She never used to write her C's like this." He flicks the file, before closing it. "What happens now?" Your voice is no higher than a whisper, and you feel him sigh before leaning his head on yours. "Nothing. Legally, she doesn't have to report her reappearance. She's an adult." You look up at your husband, who has a surprisingly underwhelmed look on his face. He's nibbling on his lip as he gently tosses the file onto the coffee table. You rest your chin on his shoulder, scanning his face before he looks down at you.

"You seem tired." You say softly, and he closes his eyes. "I am. I'm so tired, honey." "You don't feel any sort of way about this? I can refer her to another clinic. I can–" "I just want to go home, Y/N." He shakes his head, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You allow it, moving to sit in his lap and feeling his hands drop to your waist. "I don't have…I can't…" You look down at him, seeing the way he angrily blinks back tears as he tries to find the words he needs. Your hands gently cup his cheeks as he sighs frustratedly, burying his face in your chest. You can feel your stomach flip as he tries to breathe deeply, his shoulders tight as you wrap your arms around them. He sniffles, resting his forehead on your clavicle, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Is it wrong to be angry at her?" He mumbles shakily, and you quickly shake your head. "No. She left, and she told me it was willingly. She came back, just a thirty-minute drive from home and she didn't tell you. You're allowed to be upset." "Then why do I feel shitty about it?" His voice trembles as he looks up at you, teary eyes full of resentment and bitterness, but behind it all is a 19-year-old boy who lost his best friend from night to the morning. You coo softly, your thumb moving to swipe under his eye as he pouts.

"Because you wanted things to be different. Finding out she's okay through me…probably wasn't the way you imagined it'd happen. Maybe you had an idea of her showing up to the precinct, or to your parents' house looking for you. Maybe you saw that she's married to someone else and it hurts you, maybe you have some underlying feelings." You shrug, not noticing the way your husband's eyes narrow at your words.

"Y/N, are you hearing yourself right now?" He scoffs, gently pushing you away from him. His hands rest on your thighs, nibbling on the corner of his lip as you give him a confused look. "What?" "Did you just seriously try and equate my feelings about this entire situation to me having some sort of weird fantasy about being with her?"

You blink twice, only for Heeseung to huff out a humorless laugh before gently removing you off his lap. He stands, grabbing his keys and wallet off the table before tapping the file. "Let's go home." "Hee–" "Let's go." He sighs, fingers grabbing the bag of dinner that you're sure had gone cold by now. He waits by the door as you gather your things, holding your coat in his hand as you slide your heels back on. "Heeseung–" "Turn around. It's cold outside." His voice isn't harsh or mean, but you can tell he doesn't want to speak unless it's absolutely necessary. You reluctantly let him slide your coat on for you, feeling his lips pressed to your temple quickly. He opens the office door, carefully pushing you out first and turning the lights off behind him.

"Can I drive?" You hold your hand out for the keys, and he sighs before dropping them in your hand. You walk quickly towards the exit, not bothering to bid the janitor a good night as you nearly threw the door open. You could feel your stomach turn as you reached the car, Heeseung still trailing behind you when his voice cut through the air.

"Walking that quickly won't get you away from this conversation, babe." You tongue your cheek, waiting for your husband to appear next to you in front of the SUV you shared. His hand squeezed your hip gently, before pulling you close. "What are you running from, hm?" The conversation where you tell me that our marriage is over and you want out because your best friend is back in the picture, you think. You shrug, shaking your head as he pulls open the driver's side door. He sighs as you skirt around him, pulling yourself into the seat without his help. He doesn't let you close the door, wedging himself in to buckle in your seatbelt for you.

"You say some really fucked up shit sometimes, you know." He murmurs, and you feel your cheeks hot as you reach around him to stick the keys in the ignition. His hand on your cheek stops you, forcing you to look at him. "I thought we said we'd work on this. On us." "I don't want to do this here." You reply shortly, not recognizing your own tone of voice as your husband's eyes widen before he tongues his cheek. "Fine." The drive is silent, the radio turned off by your fingers the moment you managed to get the car started. Heeseung sits in the passenger side, staring out the window with a tick in his jaw you'd only ever really seen a few times, but you remember most during your first fight. It'd been two days before your first anniversary, and it'd been over the dumbest thing ever – his phone dying and you freaking out when he showed up late to your early celebration. He'd apologized profusely but you didn't want to talk about it then, just like you don't want to talk now.

Heeseung is out of the car before you even manage to park fully, careful not to slam the door as he rounds the car, opening your door and taking your bag. You reluctantly let him help you down, and he takes the keys to open the door without a word. Your home is still warm and inviting, but something about the cold demeanors floating around the two of you makes it feel like you're not even there.

"Are you hungry?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head. "No." "You had lunch at noon, why are you lying?" He scoffed, pulling his jacket off as you tongued your cheek, "I'm not. You're just assuming things." "What is the problem, Y/N? Suddenly Soyoung…Chaeyoung reappears and you want to act like this? Did we not just have several lengthy conversations about fixing our relationship?" He grabs your elbow gently as you move to walk away, and you can't help but look at him with a frown on your face. "That was then, and this is now." "Why are you being like this? Babe." Heeseung pulls you toward him, and you huff in frustration as you try to weasel from his gasp. "You're acting like I'm some insecure housewife who needs you to coddle her. I'm not insecure, and even if I was, there's nothing you can do about it. Who cares? Why do you even care?" Heeseung gapes at you, before his hands circle your wrists so you can't move away from him. "Hello? Because I love you? Do I need another reason to want to understand why the woman I've been with for almost a decade is suddenly acting like she hates me?" 

"Me? Hate you? Be fucking serious." You scoff, and Heeseung's eyes narrow. "Then tell me what the hell is going on in your mind, because I'm not a mind reader. I cannot fix a problem if you don't tell me what it is." "Oh, but if I were Soyoung–" You start, but stop the moment his eyes meet yours. They're full of hurt and a hint of anger, a singular tear spilling from them before he drops your wrists with a click of his tongue. "Don't."

His voice is soft, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as he turns away from you, before shrugging his suit jacket off. He sighs shakily, and you feel your throat burn as you step out of your heels, placing them quietly on the shoe rack by the door. You purse your lips, taking a deep breath before turning on your heel, moving towards your bedroom before the tears spill from your eyes.

You didn't know what to do to stop the feeling of despair from clawing at you. And you felt stupid, thinking that you needed to even allow that feeling into your chest. You and Heeseung had spoken in depth on Sunday about your relationship – when you weren't pinned under him or vice versa. You talked about having kids, you talked about your parents, you talked about each other. He admitted to you that Dr. Bahng had told him to take some time off for the two of you before the year ended, and that he'd talk to his Captain about submitting the paperwork for a vacation sometime this week.

He admitted that he wholly believes marrying you was one of the best decisions he's ever made, and profusely apologized for his inability to cherish you the way you deserved. He held you closely as his promises to do better rained over you, and you promised the same.

He admitted to feeling his heart racing in his chest the day he met you, but was too consumed with guilt about Chaeyoung to ever bring it up, and his crush on you started developing soon after. He admitted that you made him overthink every step he took, every word he said – so much so that he figured it was just better to push you away than tell you about his feelings. The two of you recounted how Sunghoon made the two of you meet him at the campus cafe with the premise that he needed help on an assignment – only to ditch you with a frown, and figure your shit out falling from his lips as he left with Jake.

You brought up how he'd gaped at Sunghoon, and the way you awkwardly picked at your nails before confessing that you had a little crush on him. The way you rambled about knowing that his circumstances were really shitty, that you completely understood if he didn't feel the same, and that you were sorry Sunghoon put the two of you in this situation. Heeseung had only smiled as he nodded along to your words, before abruptly interrupting you to ask if you were free that following Friday. You had been, and he picked you up at seven for a date – an arcade, where the two of you jokingly did a Love Test-O-Meter and got the highest level. The two of you had scrunched your noses, but you both had deep blushes across your cheeks as the other patrons woo'd you. After, you went back to his dorm and ordered takeout, before promptly getting intoxicated on a bottle of gin stolen from Jay and watched horror films for hours before you passed out on his bed holding hands.

The rest? History.

You're struggling to pull your dress zipper down when Heeseung enters the room, his fingers gently tugging the zipper down your back without a word. You hear the gentle jazz music playing in your living room as he shuffles towards the closet, unbuttoning his shirt before hanging it back up. His hand reaches for one of the towels on the shelves, before taking another out and placing it on the bed.

A silent invitation to join him in the shower, if you so felt like it.

You hesitated, watching the way he gathered his pajamas and tucks them under his arm, the urge to follow after him far too strong as you stepped out of your dress, letting it pool on the floor. You kicked it away with a huff, before stripping entirely and grabbing the towel and your robe off the back of your bedroom door. You linger at the bathroom door, hearing the water start to pour and the sound of the shower curtain being pulled open. You walk in silently, setting your things down on the counter as Heeseung undid his belt, hanging it up on the hook by the door. You make a mental note to take it out when you leave, he'll forget it and not wear it for weeks until he sees it again. He tilts his head towards the shower as he peels off his undershirt, signaling for you to get in while he gets undressed.

The water is hot against your skin, and you close your eyes with an inward sigh. He steps in moments after, before tilting your head back just slightly so the water can cascade through your hair. Your hands instinctively move to touch him, but you retract back to your sides. He gently takes them, wrapping them around his waist like you usually do.

He doesn't say anything as he washes your hair gently, your eyes closed so as to not take in the image of your husband's slightly swollen eyes. His fingers card through your hair smoothly, before you feel his lips on your forehead. 

"I love you. Don't say it back. Don't say anything." You don't, but you're sure he sees the tear that slips from your eye as you nod silently. It comes so easily to him now. So, so easily to let you know how he feels about you. It makes you weak in the knees.

The rest of your shower is like that, his lips brushing chaste kisses all over your face as he repeats himself over and over, I love you, I love you, I love you. Your tears are hot as they continue to spill, and you finally slip out of the shower when he asks you to take the extra pillows off the bed – his final kiss to your lips after carefully washing your face for you.

You do as he asks, taking your decorative pillows and piling them in the closet like you usually do. You silently get dressed for bed, not bothering with your skincare – you'll just cry it off. Your hair is still damp when you lie down in one of your husband's old shirts and a pair of Spiderman briefs you stole from him years ago. He quietly turns all the lights off but leaves the music playing in the living room, before walking into the bedroom as he pulls his shirt over his head.

Your vision is blurry as you look up at him, his face illuminated by the evening moonlight. He sighs as he sits on your side of the bed, his hand sliding under the duvet to rest on your thigh. "Come dance with me." You blink a few times, staring at him before closing your eyes, shoving the duvet to the side and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. He stands, taking your hand in his and making you follow him to the living room.

You hear the opening notes of Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers – yet another song from your wedding – as Heeseung pulls you into him, planting a soft kiss to your hairline as his hands find home on your lower back. You exhale into his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken as you slide your hands under his shirt, resting them high on his back. 

"I love you, I'm sorry." You mumble as he sways the two of you gently, and he hums in response.

"I need you to know that I've never had feelings for Chaeyoung." He says clearly, and you close your eyes. "I've never had feelings for her, in any way that wasn't platonic. There are plenty of reasons she and I never got together after she kissed me when we were teenagers. Not that they matter, because all that matters is that I didn't feel the same, I never have and I never will." You don't respond, feeling your eyes sting with tears.

"It's only ever been you for me. I've never once thought back to when we started dating and thought that I'd would’ve been better off with anyone else. I've never wanted anyone that isn't you, and I think that is equally as beautiful as it is terrifying. In lieu of you, who? I'd have no first love without you, you’re the only love I want." "I'm sorry." You whisper as your tears soak into his shirt, and he pinches your hip lightly. 

"I'd genuinely be nothing without you. You are the most patient, loving person I've ever met. No one makes me want to be a better man like you do. I feel sick every time I have to get out of bed and go to work, but I remind myself that you only deserve the best. This house, our things, what I hope I can provide for our future kids…it can only be the best. So, I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry for giving so much importance to the future, which isn't a bad thing in itself. But, I've ignored my present. You're a gift from life, I've ignored you and it pains me to know I've caused you so much distress. So much so that you resort to feeling like this, like I'd ever leave the love of my life, the love for my life, for someone else."

His hands find your face, cooing at the pout on your lips as he gently wipes your tears. "I meant everything I said this weekend, too. I could never ask for a better woman, not when I have you." You only let out a sob in response, your husband cuddling you into his chest as he turns the music off when the song changes. He rubs your back as he moves the two of you back to the bedroom. He only separates from you to slide under the covers, but pulls you flush to his chest and envelopes you tightly in his arms.

"I love you so, so endlessly. Please don't ever doubt that again." He sighs shakily, pressing his lips to your temple as you bury your face in his neck. "I love you, Hee."

Friday, 3:40pm.

It'd been three weeks since you told Heeseung about Chaeyoung's return, and she'd become a regular patient at your clinic. She told you more about her husband, her friends, and how she missed Heeseung. She asked you about your life, and you did everything to avoid mentioning names, even going as far as avoiding certain questions. You kept Heeseung updated with everything, and the more you told him…

…The more disinterested he became. It was odd to you, but you said nothing as he changed the subject, as he rolled his eyes, as he kissed you in the middle of your sentences. 

Heeseung also made it a point to drop you off and pick you up from work every day, insisting he enjoyed it. He made your breakfast and picked your clothes, and it was like every morning was a challenge to see if he could convince you to take a trip to the bedroom in your work clothes. He'd succeeded twice, and you were late to work both times. He hadn't been successful since, earning soft swats of your hand and gentle shoves.

However, this morning – you did it all on your own. Heeseung had recently taken on a new case and it was cutting into his sleep. He came home not even an hour before you woke up, several apologetic calls and texts throughout the night before you fell asleep at midnight without him.

You tucked him in, planting kisses across his face as you shrugged your coat on. He didn't stir, and you packed his breakfast and lunch and left it on the table. You took the long way, playing the same soft jazz station he did every morning.

One of your patients had called to reschedule, so you'd have an early afternoon home. You got a text from Heeseung moments after arriving at the clinic, complaining about why you didn't wake him up to take you – only for him to call you at noon and say he'd barely gotten up for work. You'd laughed and teased him about thinking he'd be able to take you to work when he clearly needed the rest, only to hear Sunghoon tell your lovebird of a husband to get off the phone and focus.

It'd been nearly four hours since then, and you were about to wrap up with Chaeyoung.

"I found him on social media, you know. His mom posted a congratulatory post, he works in the same town. He's a lieutenant at the Seventh Precinct." She picked at her nails, a frown on her lips as you try not to show your shock at her words. "Who, your best friend?" "Yes. He's married now, too. I couldn't find anything about her, though. His parents didn't post anything about the wedding but a backshot of him and the bride." She sighs, and you think back. You'd both asked his parents to keep it private, and they both chose that photo to post across their social media to boast to their friends. You'd appreciated it so deeply that you bought them a rice cooker for Christmas that year.

"Do you plan on going to see him at some point?" You ask smoothly, refilling her glass of water as she shrugs. "I planned on going today, actually. I'm just…nervous. I had a friend drop me off today, and I'd be going alone. I feel like I'd need a support system." "I can go with you, if you'd like. I'm headed that way anyway." The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and her eyes widened with surprise before she smiled. "You'd do that?" "Of course. This is a big step for you, you know? I'd just have to make some calls, I know that precinct happens to be rather finicky with visitors." You shrug, feeling the pit in your stomach grow deeper as you wonder how you're going to tell Heeseung. She nods excitedly, and you excuse yourself, walking down the hall so nothing can be heard through the door.

The line rings three times before Heeseung picks up.

"Hey, baby. What's up?" "You can't be mad at me. Promise you won't get mad." You rush out, and he laughs. "I won't be mad. At least, I don't think I'll be. Are you okay?" "She wants to meet you. She said she's going over there today, and my stupid ass offered to drive her over because I'm going home early, anyway." You're wincing as the line goes silent, before your husband sighs. "Oh, babygirl." You can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, the particular pet name only really slipping when he's stressed. "I'm sorry, honey." "No, no. It's fine, just..let me get some stuff settled, I'll let Minseo know to let you through without issues." He trails off, before another sigh is heard. "Does she know we're married?" "She found that back shot from our wedding. She doesn't know it's me." You sigh shakily, and your husband only echoes it back. "Alright, I'll let the guys know. Will you be in the room? I don't think I can do this alone." "Yes, of course. I won't be there as your wife, though, if that's…fine. Just think of it as that one time we roleplayed."

Your husband snorts, "Babe, that was the most awkward thing ever." "Because you can't hold character! But don't worry, we'll spin that one back someday." You hum affirmatively, earning a soft laugh. "I love you, baby. I'll see you in what, thirty?" "I'd run red lights for you if it wasn't illegal and dangerous." You shrug, despite him not being able to see you. He's probably rolling his eyes, a click of his tongue coming through the phone. "Be good, honey. I'll see you. Love you." "I will. Love you." You shoot a few texts off to the other detectives as the line hangs up, before sliding back into your office and seeing Chaeyoung sprawled across the couch with her arm over her eyes. "You alright in here?" Your soft chuckle startles her, and she straightens quickly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Sorry, I'm nervous." "Not to worry. They know me well, so don't be startled if anyone says anything." You smile as you grab your coat, before floating over to your computer and clicking around. "Ready to go? We can even stop and get a little drink for the drive." "You're such a girl, I love it." She giggles, and you feel your stomach sink as you shake your head with fake amusement. You feel awful lying to her – she'd been so open and honest, warming up to you incredibly fast. She eagerly bounces alongside you as you walk to your car after gathering your belongings and locking your office, slipping into your passenger seat as you quickly buckle yourself in.

The ride is full of nervous chatter from her and you drop your guard a bit, opting to talk to her about Heeseung through memories. You tell her about your first date, and she's amused, telling you about her first date with her husband – talking about how the two of them wound up getting lost in Busan because he'd forgotten his way around a smaller part of town. You only smiled throughout.

You arrived at the precinct with an iced coffee from a shop a block away, Chaeyoung holding an Americano as she nervously chewed her lip. You spoke to Minseo softly, your eyes pointed as she nodded – it seemed Heeseung had vetted everyone before your arrival. "Go ahead, Dr. Lee. Lieutenant Lee should be in his office, his schedule is clear for the afternoon." "Thank you, Minseo. Take a break soon, okay?" You give her a warm smile and this time, she returns it, before printing your visitor stickers and giving one to Chaeyoung. Her fingers tremble as she sticks it on her denim jacket, and you see Sunghoon staring intently in your direction before you give him a dirty look.

"Dr. Lee! Good to see you, it's been a while." He wanders over, draping his arm over your shoulders as you try not to groan in annoyance. "Detective Park, always a pleasure." "Sunghoon?" You hear Chaeyoung whisper, and he glances over at her with a mock look of surprise. "Yes? Do I know you?" She opens her mouth, but you quickly shake your head, reaching for her hand. "Later. I promise you'll have time."

"Sorry." She mumbles, but she looks over her shoulder at Sunghoon for a bit as you walk through the precinct. You note the way her eyes widen at the sight of Jake and Jay, their serious faces contorting to ones of confusion at her longing glances. They all pretend like their hearts aren't racing out of their chests as you knock on Heeseung's door, hearing an affirmative sound to come in.

"Lieutenant Lee." You poke your head in, squeezing Chaeyoung's hand in yours as your husband looks up. You fight the urge to say he looks handsome in his white button down and blue suit jacket, but he stands before you can say anything else.

"Dr. Lee, always a pleasure to see you. How can I help you?" He opens the door further, and you can almost hear the way he thanks his years of training for the stoicism on his face as he sees Chaeyoung. You pull her into the office as he steps out of the way, her eyes wide as you sit her down and quickly close the blinds, sticking your tongue out at Sunghoon for good measure.

You almost forget Heeseung has a few photos of you on his desk, and you look over your shoulder to see them all facing the wall behind his chair. You nearly sigh in relief, but clear your throat instead as you sit next to Chaeyoung. Heeseung smiles softly, checking his watch.

"How can I help you, ladies? Oh, I'm Lieutenant Lee Heeseung. At your service." He extends his hand, noting the way hers trembles as she takes it. He gives it a firm shake, before glancing at her again. "You look…kind of familiar. Have we met before?" "I can't." She whispers, her hand gripping onto the sleeve of your coat as you nod, before clearing your throat. "It's okay. You want me to talk?" She nods without a word, and you give Heeseung a pleading look. "So, we have a bit of a…predicament." "Right, as one would assume." He nods slowly, and you note the way he nervously chews his lip before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. "Are you in danger, or some sort of trouble?" He clicks a pen from his pocket, opening a drawer from the side table to take out a notepad.

"More like we have some answers to a case that went cold a few years back." You hear him hum, the pen not touching the paper as he looks up. "Alright, should I pull up some records?" "If you'd like, but it was a Missing Persons case you were involved with. Do you remember when we talked about it when we first met? The Cha Soyoung case?" "Ah…right. Right." He clears his throat, and you can see the tears beginning to well in his eyes as he blinks them back. "That case has long been dry, with lots of dead ends. Everyone in the precinct is familiar with it. Last update was, what, three years ago? Some sightings a few miles away." "Lieutenant, this is Jeon Chaeyoung." You introduce her properly, her eyes peering at him over your shoulder. He blinks, nodding slowly. "Formerly known as Cha Soyoung." He tilts his head at your words, as if he didn't already know. He stares blatantly, and you make her scoot up a bit so he can get a better look at her face. His eyes scan her repeatedly, before he stands up and moves to his desk, opening a drawer and taking out one of the many missing posters you used to put up every week. He looks at it for a moment, and sighs shakily. "You know, I appreciate you coming by–" "Hee, it's me." She blurts, a few tears rolling down her face as you see a pained look on your husband's face. He nibbles on his lip, his eyes full of stress as he looks at you. She stands up, and Heeseung tongues his cheek as he shakes his head. "Soyoung had a widow's peak, and a birthmark on her neck." "Heeseung, please. I know you're upset, and I…I'm sorry. I've missed you..." She trails off, and you note the way he's near tears, looking away from her, the paper crumpling in his hand as he clears his throat. "Dr. Lee, can I see you outside?"

Chaeyoung gives you a look of despair, and you just pat her shoulder with an apologetic look as you watch Heeseung storm out. "I'll talk to him, don't worry." She opens her mouth to speak, but she just sighs. Nodding, she takes a seat, and you tighten your coat around you as you follow your husband out. He's in the break room a few feet away, and he nearly shuts the door with a slam as you slip inside. His arm reaches for you, pulling him into you roughly and squeezing you so hard you can't breathe for a moment. "I can't do this. I'm not strong enough, Y/N." His voice is unsteady, but you snake your arms around his waist with a hum. "You know, I was worried. I was beginning to think you were going to let this all just…go. You are strong enough, and you can do this.. I know this is scary, it's so overwhelming. I know you, though. You're Lee Heeseung, you don't give up on anything. It's been almost a decade and you've worked so hard to get here. Don't you want to see the fruit of your hard work?" Your voice is soft but stern, and your husband only whimpers pitifully into your shoulder. You coo, running your hand down the nape of his neck as you sway the two of you gently. "I love you, baby. I believe you can get through this. You deserve a happy ending to it all. So many years of stress won't be good for your hairline." He actually snorts at your joke, but the tears continue nonetheless as he moves away, pouting as he sits in one of the chairs. You wipe your hands on his cheeks gently, offering him a tissue from your pocket as you squat in front of him. "It's gonna be okay. I promise." "I don't want to make amends. I don't think I can forgive her for this." He sniffles, and you nod in understanding. "That's okay, too. You don't need to be her friend again, even if that's what she wants. You owe her nothing, and vice versa." "I love you." He whines, covering his face with his hands as you laugh softly. "I know, I love you too, Hee."

"No, seriously, I'd ask you to marry me again if we weren't already married." He grabs your hands quickly, and you nearly lose your balance as he jerks you forward, enveloping you in a crushing embrace. "Submit your vacation paperwork and we can renew our vows instead." "I love you so much!" He cries into your coat. You can't help but laugh out loud, a bit of shock running through you as you take in his very big emotional outburst. "I know, I know! Now please, get it together. We've got to get back, and you need to talk to her. The poor girl is vibrating out of her skin."

"Kiss me." He pouts, looking up at you as you stand. You roll your eyes. "After. Promise." "I need it for encouragement. Be the wind beneath my wings, babe." He begs, making you sigh. "One kiss, and keep your tongue in your mouth." "Two kisses to make up for the lack of tongue." He counters, and you smack his arm before pressing your lips to his. His hands instinctively hold your waist, your own moving to hold his cheeks gently. It's slow and sweet, and you pull away as his teeth nip at your lower lip.

“Stop that." You brush two more chaste kisses on his lips, a pout appearing as you squeeze his hand. "Come on, we have to." "I love you." He repeats for the umpteenth time, and you know he's finding comfort in knowing that you both feel the same and are there for moral support. "I love you, Hee. Now, let's go." The other detectives pretend they don't notice the way you hold his hand tightly as you both exit the break room, Heeseung ducking his head to hide his teary eyes as you open the door to his office. You pop your head in, seeing a rather disheveled Chaeyoung on the couch.

"How're we feeling?" You call gently, squeezing Heeseung's hand behind you before you let go. She gives you a thumbs down as she wipes her eyes, and Heeseung clears his throat behind you as he carefully slips past. She shifts as he does so, and you shut the door behind you. He sits across from her carefully, her eyes shimmering with tears as she peers up at you.

Heeseung does the same, before glancing at your wedding rings. They're snug on your finger, and you carefully thumb at them as you gingerly take a seat on the couch next to Chaeyoung. You give him a pointed look, and he sighs, running his hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, Hee." She whispers, and he nods. "I'm sure." "I really am. You would've talked me out of it, I know you."

Heeseung's hands flex on his knees, "You could've talked to me, at least. You could've said literally anything. You just up and left and expected no one would care." "You don't get it, Hee. I felt so much pressure from everyone around me, I was so tired of pretending like I wanted any of that for myself. I didn't want to take over the company, you knew that." She tries to reason, but you can tell he's fighting himself from saying anything out of line as he takes a deep breath.

"It's always what I knew and what you knew, but you clearly forgot the fact that you were my best friend. Since we were kids, and the most painful part of this all is confirming that you didn't trust me that entire time. There's no coming back from this." 

She's silent as he picks at his nails, before she speaks softly. "Don't you at least want to know how I'm doing?" He scoffs quietly, folding his hands in his lap. "Sure. Tell me everything you've built for yourself while I've spent a decade agonizing about whether or not you're alive." His tone is harsh and you find yourself giving him a hard look, your jaw tight as she looks down. He doesn't apologize, and you find yourself speaking softly.

"A lot of big feelings here, hm? There's a lot of pain to get through, so…let's not take anything to heart right now." You nod, and Chaeyoung nods next to you as she clears her throat. Heeseung doesn't acknowledge it, opting to bounce his leg.

"I got married. I know you did too, right? During college?" She nods, and he clicks his tongue. 

"Heeseung, be nice." You say his name out of habit, his eyes snapping to you as you wince at your mistake. "Didn't know we were on a first-name basis, Dr. Lee." "You know what I mean." You roll your eyes, and Heeseung sighs. "Yeah, I got married in college right after I turned twenty-one. Seven years ago."

"You're awfully young to be a Lieutenant." She says softly, and he struggles not to roll his eyes. "Doesn't take much to get promoted when you're constantly mulling over cases and neglecting other things for someone who didn't want to be found. You could've called, you know."

"Could I have? Because it seems like you hate me for doing what's best for me." Her eyes are narrowed now, and he scoffs. "I think I'm allowed to hate you for all its fucking worth at this point. You abandoned me nine years ago, you just up and left without a word! Do you know how many birthdays I had to spend answering questions about you instead of celebrating with my loved ones? You know how many date nights I shoved aside with my wife because I was here, hoping I'd get a crumb of knowing that you're at least alive? Do you understand how much of my life has gone into this?!" Heeseung is starting to lose his patience, but it seems Chaeyoung had been ready to blow her top for years.

"What about me, Heeseung?! You think I liked always being on the fucking sidelines, waiting for you to notice me? I had to fucking disappear for you to care about me? For you to look my way even once, I had to uproot my entire life? Is that what it had to fucking come to?!" 

Your lips part at her words, Heeseung's eyes widening before they narrow. "Are you serious? That's what you want to attribute this to? I didn't reciprocate your feelings so now I'm the bad guy? You fucking left, instead of communicating with anyone. You made that decision, no one forced you to take that road." "I did what I had to, and the fact that you never wanted to be with me despite us literally being the perfect love story was just the cherry on top. It was my catalyst and I hope you know that I resent you for making me feel so undesirable." She huffs, and you clear your throat as Heeseung glowers. 

"I think…we've lost our way a bit. This was more about reconnecting, I assumed it'd be a bit more peaceful. The blame game gets us nowhere." You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Chaeyoung takes a deep breath, struggling not to roll her eyes before pulling her phone out. "This is my husband. You'd like him, he plays bass and he produces music for an entertainment company. His name is Jungkook, we got married two years ago." Heeseung gives you a glance, your eyes nervous as you breathe out.

"Everything alright?" He asks gently, and you know it's his way of asking if he can talk about you. Your eyes are nervous, but you nod anyway, playing with the hem of your dress. Chaeyoung gives you a once over, patting your knee with a smile. 

"I'm sorry, I know this must be stressful. I should've never taken your offer, Dr. Lee." "No, I think this was necessary, really. For the three of us." You shrug, attempting to appear nonchalant. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes as Heeseung clears his throat, standing up to grab the photo of you off his desk. It's you on your honeymoon – the two of you took it the summer after you graduated from college. You were wearing a white dress and it was one of the most picturesque candids in your collection. He gives you a waywards glance, but you only nod as he sits down.

"This is my wife. You'd like her, she plays piano and crochets and does cross-stitch. She's a therapist. Her name is Y/N, we got married seven years ago." He flips the picture, and you watch her eyes widen out of your peripheral vision. She takes it gently, her manicured thumb stroking your smiling face. She looks pale as she turns to you, her jaw tight.

"Chaeyoung, I'm sorry." You whisper, and she gives you a glare. "Are you? You knew this entire time and you let me open up to you about everything? Did you tell him, too? Did you tell everyone here?" Her voice only raises as she scoots away from you, and you feel your cheeks heat as you run a hand through your hair. "We spent years looking for you, Chaeyoung. There were so many sleepless nights, so many tears, so much stress over you. This is hard for me too, you know." "What, loving a man who is nothing but a shell of a person? Yeah, I'm sure you loved filling his fucking cup until it overflowed while he casted you aside." She sneers, and you feel your chest tighten. "I'm sure it felt great being stuck in your house, wondering when the fuck he'd be home because he was here. Looking at case files, talking to forensics, doing anything instead of being home with you." Your throat burns as you clear it, but Heeseung interrupts as he takes the photo of you back. "Chaeyoung, you're obviously angry. I can't blame you for that, but I also won't allow you to speak to Y/N like this. She's here to help both of us." "Yeah, well you can take your help and fucking shove it, Y/N." She huffs, gathering her coat from the couch cushion. You stand quickly, holding your hands out to deter her from leaving. "Chaeyoung, please let me explain–" "Explain what? How you're a lying bitch?" She spits, and Heeseung's eyes narrow as he opens his mouth to say something, only for you to wave him off. Your gaze is unreadable as she continues to berate you. "You want to explain why you let me agonize over Heeseung for three weeks, and how you listened to me tell you how I felt about him and said nothing? What kind of fucking therapist are you?" "A dumb one." You say softly, "I didn't tell you I was married to Heeseung because that's none of your business. Getting you involved in my personal life could be incredibly damaging to my career, but I did it because I've known about you since before I met Heeseung." Her eyes are aflame as she stares you down, but you don't budge.

"I don't fight over men. I never have, I never will. What I will do, though, is tell you that though I knew mixing my personal life and my career could be a disaster, I did it because I love Heeseung. You suffered, you left because of all the pressure you felt. I understand that pressure, too. I know what it's like for your family to expect something from you that you simply don't want to provide, or feel like you can't."

Her eyes well with tears as she looks away.

"Just as you suffered, though, we did, too." You gesture at the space between you and Heeseung, and he steps slightly closer. "I cannot tell you the nights we spent walking all over town and putting posters anywhere they'd allow us to. I cannot even begin to explain the stress everyone felt, all of your friends, all of your family members because you just disappeared. I wasn't your friend, and I didn't know you personally…but it affected me, too." A tear falls down her face, and you reach to wipe it with the sleeve of your coat.

"There were so many nights that I'd be in Heeseung's dorm just talking about you. He'd tell me so many stories, he's shown me so many photos of you together. He's told me every piece of your life that he knows, and you've sat in my office for three weeks and done the same for him. Things I already knew, and things I didn't." She silently sits back down, letting the tears drip down her face.

"I know it's painful, to want something or someone so bad and have it be just out of your reach. I know it sounds like I'm bragging, or maybe like I'm trying to rub it in your face but I promise I'm not. Loving Heeseung has not been easy, there were many times I wanted to give up. There were nights he'd be locked in the home office, overthinking himself into a bottle of bourbon." You laugh softly, taking Heeseung's seat across from her. He stands behind you, his hand running up and down your back.

"There were times I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to hurt his feelings because he made me feel neglected. He'd come home late, he'd miss dinner, he wouldn't be around to just hang out. You told me during our first session that you and Jungkook dance together all the time, that he sings you to sleep. I cannot tell you how envious I would have been, had I met you just a week earlier." 

Her gaze meets yours, surprised. "What?"

"I mean what I say and I say what I mean." Heeseung speaks up, his voice a lot softer. "I was not a good husband. I'm still not, but it's not your fault. It's my fault, I wanted so badly to know that you were at least okay that I completely neglected Y/N. I wasn't present, emotionally or physically." "I knew it wouldn't be easy, loving someone like Heeseung." You interrupt him, "I knew loving someone who had gone through something so gut wrenching would be one of the most difficult things I'd ever have to do. I wanted it so bad, Chaeyoung. I wanted to love him, and be the glue that held him together. I wanted to be the person he woke up with in the mornings and the person he kissed goodnight. I wanted to be there, no matter what it took." "So you allowed all of it." She murmurs, and you sigh. 

"I fought it. I didn't want to brave the storm that was Lee Heeseung in college. But like a moth to a flame, I stayed. I got hurt time and time again, but the good outweighed the bad so much. I saw so much potential, I saw so much kindness and I knew in my heart I could help it flourish. And now, we're here." "Don't you feel jealous?" She asks, making you smile sadly before nodding. "Of course I felt jealous. I knew there was a girl that knew my husband more than I ever would, and I envied that. I wanted to know everything there was to know, but I had to come to terms with the fact that it simply couldn't be. We're ever-evolving, and while you may have known each other for so many years…you've both changed so much." She closes her eyes, her chipped nails digging into the fabric of her peacoat. Heeseung's hand rubs circles into your back, before you feel him squeeze your shoulder. "I don't hate you." She says suddenly, her eyes on Heeseung. He clicks his tongue, "I don't expect you to. I haven't done anything to you to make myself worthy of hating."

"Why not me?" She mumbles, and Heeseung's eyes close as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Just tell me that." "I can't do that to you, Chaeyoung." He shakes his head, and you hear her scoff. "Just do it, it'll make getting over you a lot easier. I already know you're married, I'm not going to make a fucking move." "I wouldn't allow it, either." He says through gritted teeth, making you shift in your chair, clearing your throat. "Would you like for me to step out?" "No." They say in unison, and Heeseung holds onto your shoulders as he looks at Chaeyoung. "Don't you think your family wants to know you're okay? It's been nine years." "What, do you keep up with them? Do they care about anything else besides that stupid company now?" She rolls her eyes, her jaw tight as she stares at her boots. "Your father sold it." Heeseung speaks softly, "He sold it not even a week after you left. Your sister bought it from him and funded half of the search party that looked for you for a year." Her eyes stay narrowed as her lips purse. "Doesn't mean they care. It was always the company this, the company that. Just like you, Hee." She glares up at him, "Focus on school, Soya. Let's study, Soya. We got into college and you just stopped wanting to hang out like we used to." "I'm 'just like them' because I prioritized my studies? Because I was on scholarship while mommy and daddy paid your way? My fucking bad, Soya." He scoffs, making her scowl. "See? You're just like them." "You're ungrateful! You've always been so blind at how things were just handed to you, you were always so fucking out of touch with everything! Your father had an entire company, a collection of businesses that he sold because you just wanted to up and leave! I don't think you will ever understand how privileged your life has been, even in the years you've been gone." His laugh is humorless as he shakes his head, and you clear your throat. 

"I think maybe this has been enough for one day." "You don't get to decide that, Y/N. I still want an answer. Why. Not. Me." She's standing now, her face tear-stained but her eyes…they're full of fury. Towards who, you're not entirely sure anymore.

You look up at Heeseung, his jaw clenched as he runs a hand through his hair. "You just don't have what I need. I won't be with someone who can't make me feel fulfilled in all aspects of life, or someone who doesn't share the same goals as me. You don't see the world the way I do, and you never have." "And she does?" She gestures at you, her voice thick as her eyes gloss over once more. "Yes. She does. She is everything I could ever ask for and so much more than I will ever deserve." He folds his hands in front of him, "There is always going to be something in this life you cannot have, whether it be an object, a person, even a stick of gum. You can't hold onto that resentment forever, it will make you miserable. You shouldn't live your life that way, not when you have a husband who loves you and a life people would kill for. Not when someone you said was your best friend over and over has someone who loves him." She glares at him, her chest rising with shallow breaths. She shakes her coat off, pulling it over her arms and walking towards the door. Her hand wraps around the doorknob as she looks at the two of you, the tick in her jaw growing tighter as she sees you stand.

"You don't have to act like this, Chaeyoung. You don't have to keep running away, you'll never solve anything this way." "You're married to the man I've been in love with since I was six years old. You lied to me, knowing I was in pain about this entire situation, and you stand here and try to act innocent. You're just as guilty as I am, so you don't get to tell me how I get to act, Y/N." She whispers, a singular tear rolling down her face as she turns to Heeseung. 

"You can tell my parents, and whoever else you please. Y/N can give them my information. I won't be coming back to Seoul, and I won't be visiting your practice again. Do not contact me further, and I won't make a scene."

She throws the door open, revealing the gaggle of detectives bunched around the door. Sunghoon nearly falls into the office as they disperse like bugs, catching himself on the doorframe. Chaeyoung stares up at him, his own eyes flickering to you. "You okay in here?"

"Fine." Heeseung replies curtly, and Chaeyoung scoffs, pushing past Sunghoon with a scowl on her face. She stalks through the precinct, and Minseo stares wide eyed as she shoves Jay and Jake out of the way to the double doors. Your eyes never leave her, continuing to stare after her as the doors shut.

You hear a disappointed sigh from your husband, and you peer up at him as Sunghoon shuts the door with his lips pressed into a thin line. He looks a mess, and you move to comfort him as Jay opens the door. He strides in confidently, a quirk in his brow as he pulls his hand out of his pocket, a new pack of cigarettes in his hand.

"Shall we?" It doesn't take much convincing to get you and Heeseung out the backway of the precinct, and you find yourself resting your forehead against the rough brick of the building. Jay lights your cigarette, sliding it between your fingers as Heeseung lights his own. You mumble a thanks, before holding it between your lips.

"Long day, huh?" He starts, his words muffled as he holds his own between his lips, the flicker of the lighter catching your attention. You nod, pushing off the brick wall to face the two men. Jay gives you a once over, "New dress?" "Storage." You shake your head, blowing smoke from your lips as Heeseung paces back and forth. "How's your girlfriend?" "Not my girlfriend, just a fling. Cut her off a bit ago. Feeling good, though." He nods, and Heeseung walks by you, your hand reaching for him. He takes it, leaning against the wall as he pulls you to him. He spins you around, making you face Jay as he wraps his arm in front of you. "PDA? From Lee Heeseung?" Jay acts shocked as you snort, closing your eyes as you lean your head back onto his shoulder. "You'd be surprised what Lee Heeseung has been up to these days." "Mmh, do tell." He shrugs, flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Did you know sharing details of your sex life to your friends is considered inappropriate social behavior?" You smirk, and he raises his brow.

"Oh, don't tell me the people who have been married for seven years are fucking. Oh man, holy shit." Jay sarcastically rolls his eyes, holding his hand to his chest as if he were clutching pearls. "Like animals." Heeseung speaks for the first time since you stepped outside, making your eyes widen as Jay's do the same. You glance up at him, watching the way he throws the cigarette butt onto the floor and stomps it out with his foot. He plucks yours from your fingers, slotting it between his lips for a slow drag before giving it back. His lips have a layer of glitter on them from your lipgloss.

"Hee, you cannot say that." "Who cares? It's Jay. It's not like he's going to ask to watch us fuck." He shrugs, making your cheeks grow hot as you turn to Jay to apologize, who is looking away with red ears. Heeseung looks over, blowing smoke out of his lips as he speaks. "Dude." "You fucking brought it up, dickwad." Jay scoffs, before stomping out his own cigarette butt. You don't speak, opting to run a hand through your hair as Heeseung sighs.

"Did you guys hear anything through the door?" "Every word. Walls are thin, you know." Jay nods, offering another cigarette. Heeseung takes it, sighing as Jay hands him the lighter. "I cannot believe she's been in love with you since you were kids." "She's not in love with me, she's infatuated with the idea of me." He rolls his eyes, fiddling with the lighter. "Her parents used to fight in front of us all the time, and when we were seventeen she told me that she wanted something better than that. Admirable, truly, but she was never going to find that with me." He holds the blue flame to the cigarette, before handing it back to Jay. "Wasn't she your first kiss?" "Ugh, yeah. I only said yes because she kept talking about how Mina, you remember her sister Mina? Mina had her first kiss at sixteen." He rolls his eyes again, his arm around you tightening slightly as he leans his head back onto the building. "I think a part of me hates her." "That's valid." You and Jay say in unison, before Jay tilts his head for you to continue. You shake yours, shrugging as Heeseung continues to talk. "She always pushed for us to become more and I just didn't want that. She lacks so much compassion, and that's why her father wanted her to take over the company. She's cold and calculated and that's why I befriended her in the first place, because no one wanted to be her friend. She was mean to everyone, but I guess she learned how to fake it well." You'd never heard Heeseung speak of her this way, but he clicks his tongue before you can ask anything. "I don't want to keep talking about her. I still have to call her parents, fuck." He runs his hand over his face. The three of you sigh in unison, a snort from Jay as he notices it, "Well…I can say that I'm glad to know she's alive, even if we don't let her back into our lives."

"Yeah." Heeseung nods, taking a final drag from the cigarette in his mouth before dropping it and putting it out. "I guess that's the silver lining in this all. Nine years…man." You nod silently, before patting his arm. "We can call on Monday when I get home from work. I have to get all her information, anyway, and remove her from my patient registry so her insurance stops getting processed." "Shit, I forgot about that." Heeseung groans, slumping slightly as Jay laughs. "You guys head on home, we can get paperwork processed to actually close the case. We'll see you on Tuesday, Lieu." "Tuesday?" He echoes absently, and Jay scoffs. "Fine, Wednesday. Is that too much time away for you, workaholic?"

Your laugh makes Heeseung look up, watching you as you put out your cigarette. The two of you only indulged every once in a while, and Heeseung never fully took the habit up after you refused to kiss him one night after a smoke. Jay bids the two of you goodnight as you all walk back into the building, his box of cigarettes now broken in and Heeseung beelining for his office to grab his coat. "Hungry?" You ask as he shrugs it on, and he shakes his head. "Wanna go home and shower, go to bed. Wanna cuddle?"

He never asks. You can’t bring yourself to say no, not that you’d want to anyway.

It's easy with you. You end up leaving your car in the precinct parking lot, dropping the keys on Jake's desk with the promise of dinner if he dropped it off at your house before morning. He rolled his eyes but agreed. The entire precinct watched as you left, Heeseung's arm holding you close – a sight they'd never seen.

"Can I be the little spoon tonight?" He asks as he buckles you in, and you press a kiss to his temple. "Yeah, Hee."

Monday, 6:32pm

The two of you spent the weekend processing everything that happened. You reluctantly left your husband's side for work this morning, driving yourself as he slept soundly. Your day felt incredibly slow, your hands aching to feel his warm skin under yours.

You'd felt the need to coddle him all weekend – you made his favorite meals, you massaged his back, you even made him a new pair of slacks. A navy blue this time, his smile shy as he modeled them for you on Sunday night. The two of you cuddled for hours, Heeseung burrowing his face in any crevice you'd allow. He kissed your skin all over, mumbles of I love you and hold me tighter falling from his lips as you spent the passing hours in your bed.

Your last patient of the day was a young girl in her twenties, her eyes constantly glossed over with tears as she tried to get comfortable with you. She wound up sobbing, your chest aching as you tried to comfort her. By the time she left, she looked much better – and she told you, thank you for your help. You have no idea how long I've been holding that in. It was enough to make your chest swell with pride as you drove home, a smile on your lips as you picked up dinner and played soft jazz on the radio. You felt the weight of the world slip onto your shoulders as you pulled into your driveway, killing the engine as you fished your house key out of your bag.

You'd contacted Chaeyoung's insurance the moment you got to the clinic, and pulled her from your patient registry without a second thought. You shoved her file into your bag and pushed the thought of it all out of your mind, choosing to focus all your energy on your patients and the way your shoes hurt your feet.

"Baby?" You called into the house as you opened the door, kicking your heels off with a sigh of relief. The cold tile of the foyer against your hot skin felt like Heaven, a shiver running down your spine as you set the bag of takeout down on the dinner table. You stop to listen, but hear nothing. "Baby, are you home?" You walk down the hall, reaching to take your earrings out as you cross the threshold to the bedroom. You see your husband laying on his back with his headphones on, the light off and curtains drawn. He wouldn't be able to see you if his eyes were open, but you can see him thanks to the light in the hallway behind you. His arms are crossed over his face, but you hear the familiar quiet sob fall from his lips. You feel your chest ache at the sight, but you don't interrupt him. You merely move your hands from your ears, leaving the earrings he gifted you a few years ago on as you fold your hands behind your back.

You watch him cry for a few minutes, before he groans in disgust. He wipes at his face angrily, sitting up abruptly with his eyes wide. He jumps as he sees you, his hand flying to his chest as you smile. "Hi." "Holy shit, babe. Don't do that." He takes his headphones off, carding his fingers through his hair as you shrug. "Maybe don't lay on our bed in the dark when I call for you twice." He rolls his eyes as you near the bed, your palms cool against his skin. "Anything you want to talk about?" Your thumbs wipe his cheeks as he shakes his head.

"Same old, just angry at the entire ordeal." He mumbles, his hands finding your hips. You hum, pressing a kiss to his hairline. "Well, I brought dinner. Come eat with me." "What did you get?" His voice is muffled as he buries his face in your stomach, the buttons of your vest annoying him as he huffs. You card your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails along his scalp, "I stopped at Pasta La Vista." "What happened to no more cheesy pun restaurants?" He snorts, and you pinch his cheek. "Ah, but I love going to those places with you. I love you, you know." 

He sighs, reaching up to turn the light on. His fingers tug gently on the pull cord, the soft yellow light illuminating the room suddenly. You both wince as your eyes adjust, blinking rapidly before looking at each other. His mouth drops, making your head tilt. "Something wrong?" "Babe. Are you serious?"

His voice is whiny, paired with the splotchy cheeks and swollen lips from his crying. You furrow your brow in confusion, feeling his hands tighten on your hips. "What? Did I do something wrong?" "Be so fucking serious with me right now. Look at what you're wearing." He huffs, pulling at one of your belt loops. You glance down at your outfit, a form-fitting black pinstripe suit you hadn't worn in a few years. It had a matching vest, one you paired with a white button down underneath. You'd worn your white Hot Chicks, much to the dismay of your poor feet. "Do I look bad?" You ask softly, glancing at yourself in the mirror when he gets your attention by pulling at your belt buckle. "Are you kidding me? You look fucking amazing! You haven't worn this in ages, where the hell did you find it?" "You could've started with that! You had me thinking I did something wrong!" You huff, swatting at his shoulder as his fingers fiddle with the buttons of your vest. "I'm sorry, but you really caught me off guard. Fuck, have these always fit like this?" He runs his hands down the back of your thighs, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly as you shove his hands off you.

"Stop feeling me up and come eat dinner. We have things to do before we can turn in for the night." You remind him as you turn around to walk out of the bedroom when you feel his fingers pinch the swell of your ass. You reach behind you and smack his hand away, "Stop it!" "Fine, fine. Let me…get cleaned up I guess. I feel gross." He groans, rolling his eyes as he slides off the bed. You make your way to the kitchen without any more of Heeseung's touching, and you carefully plate everything up. You know he'd be content just eating on the couch with a show on, but you need something to busy yourself as your mind whirls with the idea of calling Chaeyoung's parents.

What would you even say? "Nice to meet you, now let me tell you all about how I betrayed your daughter when she came to me for therapy!" You groan, running your hands through your hair as you overwhelm yourself with thoughts. You thought you'd be fine, but you sort of thank your stars that you managed to make it through work without thinking about it. You'd rather be home and agonizing over it than anywhere else.

In all your thinking, you don't hear Heeseung walk into the kitchen. Your head is low between your shoulders as you hold onto the sink, taking deep breaths. You jolt when you feel his hand on your back, a concerned look in his eyes. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, fine. Sorry, just…thinking." You sigh, before pushing off the sink. He gives you a stern look, his hands moving to your waist to pull you into him. “Talk to me.”

You gently bang your forehead against his chest, “What are we even going to tell them?”

A low whistle comes from your husband’s lips, “I have no idea. Promise to still think I’m sexy if I break down?”

You snort, slapping his chest lightly as he smiles down at you. “Emotional vulnerability is sexy, Hee.”

“You want me so bad.” He chides, making you roll your eyes. You try not to let your eyes linger on the muscle of his arms, now showcased by a sleeveless white shirt he must've changed into. “Let’s eat dinner and I’ll take care of whatever hornball issue you have later.”

“Will you keep the suit on?” He asks, brow raised as he scans your face. You rub your temples, before feigning an annoyed sigh. “Yes, Heeseung, I’ll keep the suit on.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He smiles as you try to weasel your way out of his arms, but he holds you tightly. He pins you against the sink, his hand moving to hold your face gently. The tip of his nose touches yours slightly, the same electricity that skin-to-skin contact with your husband causes runs down your spine. “Have I?”

“You’re going to wax poetic after I said I’d keep the suit on to get you off?” You snort, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m going to wax poetic after my wife agrees to some weird shit I ask of her simply because she loves me as I love her.”

You struggle not to roll your eyes, but your warming cheeks give you away. "Please focus on the order of events, will you? Dinner, dreaded call, then whatever freak shit you have in your head. Move it." He grins as he presses a kiss to your forehead, before letting you worm out of his grasp. Dinner is quiet, with neither of you wanting to talk too much in detail about your days. Heeseung would know you were so stressed that you skipped lunch, and you'd know that he'd had to change his pillowcase twice because of how long he'd been crying. It wasn't something either of you wanted to share, but simultaneously, you both knew. "Do you think they'll be happy?" You murmur around a breadstick, a pout on your husband's lips as he chews. "I mean…I would hope so. Mrs. Cha lost her mind when she disappeared." "Define lost her mind." 

He sighs, taking a sip of his water. "I guess the same way I did, but worse. The first year had to have been the worst. No sleep, she barely ate and was having constant breakdowns…but it's different. A mother's love is nothing compared to what I may have felt then." He shrugs, and you find yourself humming in response.

Your eyes are downcast, pushing the remaining pasta around on your plate as he gazes at you. "I'm sorry to have put you through that." "Do you remember our vows? I'd promised I'd be there, always." You say pointedly, and he shakes his head. "I mean, through what happened on Friday. I will never stop apologizing for any of it, I know that in my heart. That day was just too much for you, I saw it in the way you looked at her. She hurt your feelings." "Calling me a bitch is hardly hurting my feelings, I've heard far worse." You snort, but Heeseung leans slightly across the table. "You know that's not what I'm talking about, honey. You're great at your job, you have to know that."

You sigh, "I know, I even had a patient today tell me I helped her a lot and it made me feel really nice. But, I will admit it was a dumb move to keep Chaeyoung as a patient. I should have told her from the get-go who I was and what I knew, and then maybe Friday would've gone differently. If at all, you know." "It's too late to think about what we should have done. We can only look forward, and unfortunately that means we have to make that call to her parents." He slumps in his chair, closing his eyes. "What if I cry?" "Then you cry, honey." You shrug, "I'll be here anyway. We're doing this together." Nothing more is said as the two of you clean up, opting to brush your teeth to remove the taste of the garlic from your tongues. You find yourself reapplying your lipstick, wiping the corners of your lips as you cap the wine red wax. Heeseung sits on the couch with his phone in his hand as you retrieve the file from your purse. He sighs as you walk over, your thigh brushing his as you sit next to him. "Ready?" You ask softly, your fingers flicking the file open. Heeseung sighs inwardly as he dials the number he's known by heart since he was a kid. You drape your leg over his to feel him closer, his hand sliding around your upper thigh as the line rings.

"Cha Residence, Seonmi speaking." 

The woman's voice is tired, and Heeseung squeezes his eyes shut as he speaks. "Hi, Mrs. Cha. It's uhm…it's Heeseung." The line is quiet for a moment, before a gentle sigh is heard. "Hi, sweetheart. Long time." "I know, I'm sorry." He mumbles, earning a soft laugh from her. "Nothing to be sorry for. Are you alright? How's your wife?"

"She's good. She's here, actually. Would you like to say hello?" He holds the phone towards you, and you clear your throat as you say a soft hello. "Oh, hello! Wow, I've never heard you speak, I've only seen photos of you. How are you? Heeseung treating you well, I hope?" You feel your cheeks heat as you respond, "Yeah, yes ma'am. I'm okay, how are you?" "Oh, you know. Same old, struggling. Did you guys need something from me? Maybe something of Soyoung's?" She sounds so tired, it makes your heart ache.

"Actually, we called with an update. If you're in the headspace to hear it." Heeseung says shakily, and you find yourself pressing a kiss to his cheek, stamping your lipstick on his skin. He leans into your lips, and you brush another in the same place before leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Oh, boy. Another sighting, I assume?" Mrs. Cha sounds defeated, and you can hear the clicking of a keyboard in the distance. You clear your throat, and Heeseung holds the phone to you. "I think it's better if my wife tells you." "Sweetheart, please get on with it."

You take the phone gingerly, clearing your throat. "For starters, I'm a therapist in the next town over. I started that job a few weeks back, and I've been taking new patients. Your daughter was one of them." Nothing is heard on the other end, and Heeseung gives you a nod to keep talking. His hand squeezes around your thigh, and you speak again. "She's changed her name, and she's married. I…she talked about everything that led to her disappearance as well as everything going on in her life currently. She's well, and she's established."

"So…you found her?" You hear a soft sob from the other end, your own eyes stinging. "We did. She talked a lot about Heeseung, so I didn't tell her we were married. I drove her to the precinct on Friday to see him again for the first time since she disappeared, and it did not go well, to say the least. However, she did give us permission to share her information with you, and I've got everything in front of me if you've got a pen or something to jot it down." You hear the rustling of paper and pens knocking against each other as someone talks in the background. Mrs. Cha sniffles into the phone, "Go ahead. I'm ready." You read everything out to her, spelling street names and offering to send photos over as well. "And you're sure it's her? You know it?" Mrs. Cha's voice is shaky as you hear a chair get pushed back, and Heeseung replies, "Positive. We wouldn't have called if we weren't sure, I was in denial when Y/N told me." "Do you…should I call her? I know she's angry with me, she must be." Mrs. Cha sounds distant, like she's walking somewhere. "She may be angry, but I'm sure she wouldn't have allowed us to give you her information if she didn't want you to contact her or know of her reappearance." You say gently, and hear Mrs. Cha laugh through her presumed tears.

"You chose the right profession, Y/N. I can see how easily this comes to you." 

Heeseung's eyes widen as he looks down at you, your own lips spread in a shy smile. His eyes speak for themselves – See? Told you.

"Thank you." You murmur, and Heeseung squeezes your leg as he clears his throat. "Well, that's all we really called for. Feel free to keep us updated, we'll get all the paperwork for the case figured out. We can handle our end privately, but you can choose how to go about things on your end." "Thank you, sincerely. I know the last nine years have been grueling for you as well, Heeseung. I hope you know you'll always have a place in our family and our hearts, and you're welcome in our home any time. You as well, Y/N. We'd love to have you over for dinner."

You gape as Heeseung answers gently, saying he'll figure out some dates and get back to her. She agrees, and a soft take care is whispered from your husband before he hangs up.

He leans forward to put his phone and Chaeyoung's file on the coffee table, before sighing. You rest your arm against the back of the couch, smushing your cheek with the heel of your palm. He slumps against the cushions silently, his hand slinking up and down your thigh.

"Feel better? This was somehow under and overwhelming." "Weight off my fucking shoulders, I'll tell you that much." He huffs, rubbing his face in frustration. You hum, reaching to run your fingers through his hair as he turns his head to face you, a pout on his lips. "Why does everything have to suck?" "Does everything suck?" You repeat thoughtfully, looking around your living room. "I mean, consider the good things. We've got this wonderful home, we have our health and your family. We have our jobs. Job market is garbage, you know." He sighs, looking around the room. "Now I just sound ungrateful." You snort, before pushing yourself up and straddling his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You settle high on his thighs, his hands instinctively coming to rest on your hips. "You're not ungrateful, you're just going through the motions. I honestly thought you'd be worse. That's why this all seems so underwhelming to me, I thought it would be a much bigger ordeal, that you'd be excited to see her." "I would have been, if it weren't for the fact that she left at her own will. A part of me just wishes she would have fucking said something, I could've talked to her. Or her parents, or something, you know?" He's frustrated as you nod, thumbing the lobe of his ear. "Oh, but you can't save everyone. You're only human. I know that's one of the first fates you face when you do the kind of work you do." He huffs, "I just have questions that I won't ever get answers to. It bothers me because no matter what she does or says, it just feels like betrayal over and over again. If we pile the fact that she said all those shitty things to you, it just makes me hate her more."

"Hating people is so taxing, baby." You shrug, "It's not good for the spirit, or your hairline." "Keep making jokes about my hairline, see how that works out for you." He scoffs, making you scrunch your nose at him. "I've been making jokes about your hairline since we met, I think it's worked out just fine. I have this house, I have this couch…" You trail off as you lean closer, brushing your nose with his, his eyes wide as he looks up at you. "I have you, on this couch, in this house and your signature on a paper that says you're my husband. What does that say about you?" "That I like gorgeous women in suits who make fun of me, I guess." He shrugs, his hands squeezing your hips as you brush your lips against his. You move away as he tries to connect your lips, making him roll his eyes. "Just kiss me, will you?" "Is that how we get the things we want?" You pull back, your brow raised as he sighs. This was a game you liked to play every once in a while, knowing that Heeseung easily flustered when you took charge. He reveled in it, sure, but it definitely took him a bit to accept that you called the shots.

"Babe, come on." "Hm, I don't like that answer." Shrugging, you start moving off his lap, earning a groan as he uses his strength to hold your hips flush to his. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please kiss me, I need it." "You need it?" You scoff, your hands on his shoulders as he blushes, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. "I need you."

"Yeah? Need me where?" Your eyes look at him expectantly, feeling him shift under you with nerves, looking down. Your gaze doesn't waver as you tilt his chin back up, his eyes full of lust and adoration. "Where?" "Here." His cheeks flushed impossibly deeper as he pouted up at you, moving your fingertips to his lips. He kisses the pads of your fingers, making you coo as you press your lips to the tip of his nose. He chases your lips as you plant kisses around his entire face, stamping your lipstick on his skin carefully. "Baby, please." 

"I love you." You murmur against his lips, making his eyes flutter shut as you finally kiss him. His hands move to your waist, pulling your chest flush to his as you shrug off your suit jacket, tossing it to the side as you gently lick into his mouth. He groans into your mouth, his fingers flexing against your body as you suck on the tip of his tongue. His hips rut up against you slowly, a whine from your throat making you pull away, dragging your lips down his jaw. 

"Can I take care of you, baby?" You murmur against the shell of his ear, making him shiver as you nip at the lobe, a quiet please from his throat. His hands twitch at your sides, soft whines from his lips as you trail your tongue down the slope of his neck. You feel his fingers move to fumble with the buttons of your vest, before he untucks your shirt, sliding his hands slightly under it to feel the heat of your skin against his. 

"I love you so much." He mumbles as you kiss his swollen lips again chastely, your fingers undoing your shirt buttons as he watches your face with low eyes. His hands snake higher on your stomach, before the tips of fingers brush your bare breasts. His eyes widen as he pulls away, jaw falling slack as he sees your lack of undergarments. "Baby." "Just enjoy it." You roll your eyes, shivering as he runs his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. He leans forward slightly, before your hand cards through his hair. "This is not about me." "You said enjoy it. How can I, if you don't let me?" He scoffs, moving your hand from its spot on the nape of his neck, pulling you forward into his mouth. His tongue swirls expertly around the hardened nub, your hand finding and digging into the back of the couch. Heeseung feels his head spinning as he breathes you in, the soft scent of his favorite perfume on your skin. You groan quietly as your hips roll against his, a soft fuck from your lips as he carefully drags his teeth on the sensitive bud. He moves to the other side, your hand tangling in his hair again as he plants wet kisses across your chest. "So perfect for me." He murmurs, flattening his tongue against your nipple as his hands move to undo your belt. He pulls it through the loops within seconds, tossing it aside and palming your ass over your pants, moving you over his bulge slowly. He relishes in the sounds you make, whimpers from your throat making his cock twitch in his pants as he continues to lap at your chest. "Always so fucking beautiful. You make me insane."

You whine in response, pulling his head away from your chest and reconnecting your lips. He feels your hand snake down between your bodies, palming at his hardened cock through his sweatpants. He groans into your mouth, his hips rutting into your hand involuntarily. You slip your tongue in his mouth, letting him messily kiss you back as he tangles a hand in your hair – your own beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging at them gently. He obliges, lifting his hips for you to pull them down to his knees. You pull away from his lips as much as the hand in your hair will allow, your hand wrapping around his leaking cock gently. He shudders as you stroke him, whining against your lips when you pull his hand out of your hair, sliding off his lap and settling between his knees. He lets out a breath as you glance up at him through thick lashes, before pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. His hands move back to your hair, gathering it into a messy ponytail as you continue to drag your lips around his skin, faint lipstick stains marking your path. He feels his stomach cave the moment you swirl your tongue around his tip, a broken moan cutting through the air.

"S'fucking pretty like this…" He groans, watching as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks slightly. Your tongue laps at the underside of his cock, following the thick vein as his tip hits the back of your throat. Gagging around him, you feel his hips jerk up involuntarily, a murmured apology as you pull off, shaking your head. "Want it, want you to do that." 

Your ears are watery as you look up at him, your hand wrapped around his shaft as his lips parted in a soft grunt. He wipes his thumb across your lower lip before he takes his cock in his hand, "Beautiful."

You feel your cheeks flush, not responding to the compliment as he opens your mouth for you. You stick out your tongue, making him smirk as he slides the heavy head of his cock on it. You blink up at him before you sink down on him, hearing a soft sigh fall from his lips. He rocks his hips up slowly, throwing his head back with a whimper as you gag around him.

"Feel s'fucking good, baby. Love you so much, fuck…" You feel your skin prickle at the praise, your eyes brimming with tears as the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat, a groan making him shiver. "Always so good to me…"

You hum as best as you can, feeling his hand tighten in your hair as the tell-tale whimper falls from your husband's lips. He pulls you off almost reluctantly, staring up at the ceiling and biting down on his lip as you look up at him, seeing his chest move in shallow breaths. "Hee–" "Need to feel you." He pulls you off your knees by your wrists, making you slide your knee between his for balance. His lips feel frantic as he kisses you messily, groaning at the slight taste of himself inside your mouth as you try to keep up. "Need to cum inside you, baby." His lips ghost over yours as he unbuttons your slacks, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip as he hooks his thumbs into the belt loops. You let him tug them down, stepping out of them when he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your skin. "Take it off." "What, do you want me to strip for you?" You roll your eyes, and he smirks lightly. "We can spin that back another time. Take it off." You oblige, feeling your husband's hands wrap around your thighs as you kick your underwear off to the side. He pulls you forward, instinctively making you straddle him slightly before he looks up, his hand snaking between your thighs. "Do you need–"

You shake your head quickly as he glides his fingers through your wet folds, his eyes widening as you shiver. He holds his hand up to the light, your arousal stringy between his fingers, gathering around his wedding band. He peers up at you, "Really?" "Shut up." Your cheeks burn as he scoffs out a laugh, before running his tongue over his fingers. "All fours, please." He tilts his head towards the free space on the couch, your eyes narrowing as you do as he says, hearing the thwip of his shirt being pulled over his head. 

"You know," You mumble as you settle on your elbows, "This is not-ah!" The warm feeling of Heeseung's tongue on your clit makes you jolt, and you feel him smile into your skin as his hands rest on your hips. He groans as you push your hips against his face, your fingers digging into the couch cushion as you whine into the brown suede. "So fucking wet, for what? A little kissing?" He's talking down to you, amused at the way your pussy clenches around his tongue, your whimper muffled by your shirt sleeve, "I love you." "Yeah? My messy girl loves me?" His voice is clearer now, and you feel his hand grip your hip as he drags the tip of his cock through your folds with a hiss. You push back against him with a whine, earning a firm smack to the back of your thigh. "Behave. You can wait."

You can hear him mutter under his breath as he ruts against you, his breathing shaky as he holds you steady. You feel him sink inside you slowly, the wet squelch making your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you whimper at the stretch. "I know honey, I know." Heeseung's voice is almost goading as he rocks into you slowly, biting down on his lip as you clench around him. "You take me so well, baby. Just love this dick, huh?" He holds your hips tight as you nod, your voice lost on you as he brushes that spongy spot inside you. You're pliant in his hands, your eyes rolling back when you feel his hand come down on your ass sharply, a moan falling from your lips into the cushion.

"Filthy little thing." He mutters, running his hand over the reddened skin. "Love being treated like a slut, don't you?" His fingers move to hold onto your waist, hearing you mumble something before leaning down slightly. "Don't you?" "Yours. Your slut." You mumble as you nod shyly, the duality making his chest ache as he coos. "All mine, yeah? Get this wet for me only, right?" The sound of your soft moans is almost drowned out by the smack of his hips against your ass. 

"Always feel so good around me, baby, shit.." His hand tangles in your hair, pulling you up carefully. You whimper as your back hits his chest, your hand holding onto the back of the couch as he bullies his cock into you. He feels you clamp down around him, your skin hot to the touch as he slides his hand down, circling your clit with his fingers.

"Always take such good care of me, my gorgeous girl. My wife, fuck, I love you." He mutters into your neck, his eyes catching your earrings swinging as he nips at your skin. You whine inwardly, looking away from him as you clench around him, your orgasm on the tip of your tongue as he thrusts into you. 

His hand moves from your hair to cradle your face, turning you just slightly to see the fucked out glaze in your eyes, your lips swollen and slick with spit. He smiles softly, brushing his lips over yours, "I love you."

You close your eyes as he kisses you messily, nothing but teeth and tongue as your orgasm washes over you, a whiny moan into your husband's mouth. He carefully tugs off your vest and shirt, "Just a little more baby, almost there. Gonna fill you up, yeah?" "Y-Yeah." You whimper as he lets you fall forward slowly, your trembling thighs only egging him on as he runs his hands over your bare back. "So fucking perfect. S-Such a perfect woman, could never ask for anyone better. M-My angel, my everything." He's rambling, forcing himself to focus as he overstimulates you chasing his orgasm. You mewl into the cushion relentlessly, pushing against him when he notices you holding your hand out behind your back. He interlocks your fingers, before spilling inside you with a whimper. He shudders above you, your hand squeezing his gently before you let go. He digs his fingers into your hips deeply, earning a groan as you shakily try to sit up on your elbows. You only manage to push back on him, a choked moan ringing through the air as he grabs at your hips. He winces as he pulls out carefully, his eyes glued to the way you clench around nothing with soft breaths. His fingers ghost over your hole as you push his release out, not realizing how sensitive you are as he smears it all over your glistening folds. "H-Heeseung!" You reach back to swat at him, making his eyes snap up to look at you. He smiles sheepishly, apologizing under his breath as he wipes his fingers on his shirt. 

"You okay?" He murmurs, his cheeks aflame as he realizes how spent you are, your hips almost giving out as he holds you up. You give him a tired nod, "We cannot fuck on my precious couch again. People sit here." He scoffs, and you feel the soft cotton of his shirt wiping down your legs. You feel him shift behind you, flinching when you feel his shirt wiping between your thighs. "Can't we just shower?" "We can, but I can't lie…I kind of like watching it drip out." He admits quietly, and you roll your eyes. "I feed so many of your guilty pleasures, but this is one I'm going to cut short. I'm all sticky." "I can make you stickier, if you want." He runs his hands up your thighs, and you scoff as you use your remaining strength to flip yourself onto your back. He's red in the face, and not just from your lipstick, his eyes glued to your center. "Hee, stop. You fucking freak." "This fucking freak is your husband, I'd be nicer to me if I were you. I suggest you tell me you love me, that's a pretty good start." He shrugs, acting nonchalant as he leans down. You give him an amused look as you run your fingers through his hair, "And I married you, why?" "Because I'm tall, tan, young, lovely." He shrugs, making you snort. "Girl from Ipanema, is that you?" "I love you." He wrinkles his nose as you press a soft kiss to it, his hands carefully moving your hair out of your eyes. "Thank you. I didn't realize how much I needed this. How much I…need you. I'm sorry it's taken me this long, baby." Your cheeks warm at his confession, your thumbs gently stroking his cheeks. "I love you. I'm always here when you need a little TLC." "And when I don't?" "And when I do, and when I don't. Whenever, you know I'm here." You assure softly, his eyes slightly glazed over as you press a chaste kiss to his lips. "However, I will admit…my TLC of preference right now is a hot shower. Care to join me?" "You and your hot showers. Can you even stand up?"

"If I can't, it just means you can eat me out in the shower." You shrug, seeing the wheels turn in your husband's head as he locks your legs around his waist. A shriek falls from your lips as he picks you up, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he moves towards the bathroom with a kiss to your lips. "And suddenly, I too, love hot showers. Shall we?"

Tuesday, 12:33pm.

It'd been a few weeks since you and Heeseung reached out to the Cha family, and the case had been officially declared closed by the Seventh Precinct. However, such a reappearance after so many years for such a prolific family meant many, many interviews and involvement with the press. It meant seeing Chaeyoung and her husband, as well as her family over and over again, even when it came to things that weren't about her.

Your relationship was still not perfect – with you and Heeseung slowly working through your issues, things got easier. He managed to submit the paperwork for his vacation to start on Friday, and had some final things to settle at the Seoul Central District Court with a few attorneys involved in a case he and Jay were attempting to break into. He'd called you to meet him and Sunoo for lunch and a meeting to bring you on as an expert witness, as you had a short day in the office.

Short day in the office does not warrant a short day outside of it, though – and you found your husband crowded by reporters and flashing cameras as you tried to quietly make your way into the courthouse. You hoped they wouldn't see you – Heeseung had been pissed enough already when a few reporters dragged your name through the mud when Chaeyoung gave her side of the story, pictures of you that he loved now torn to shreds by internet trolls and what little social media you did have had been flooded with hateful comments. You wound up deleting everything, and staying away from your phone as much as possible. Heeseung arranged private security, and even had Sunghoon assigned to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity around you. 

Nothing had happened, and you were sure nothing would – but you couldn't lie, you felt safer when you and Heeseung were behind the locked doors of your home, hidden away in your bedroom.

You could hear the reporters shouting questions at Heeseung, the tick in his jaw evident as he answered one question at a time. You watch from afar a bit, your facemask protecting you from being discovered as you inch closer. You can see his patience begin to thin and you're about to barrel down the steps to him when you hear a reporter shout over all the others.

"Lieutenant, your wife has been dragged by the media in all forms. What are your thoughts on that, considering that Jeon Chaeyoung was once your life-long friend?" Heeseung's face hardens, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as he speaks.

"I have nothing to say on Mrs. Jeon, I cannot understand why she'd speak about Dr. Lee that way. Please write that down, put that into the world. She's not just my wife, she's her own person and she had a huge role in this case. I would have lost my mind if it weren't for her, and her impact should not be reduced simply because we're married." You feel your chest fill with warmth as you take a few more steps down, a reporter spotting you and you press a finger to your facemask, your wedding ring making her eyes widen. She says nothing as you listen to Heeseung speak.

"Dr. Lee was a pertinent witness to the entire case, and had she not been involved, had she not said something, Mrs. Jeon's case would've remained open and no one would know of her whereabouts. Her family had been in absolute shambles for the last nine years, and frankly, as harsh as it sounds, I'm glad that it's finally over. Dr. Lee is not to blame for whatever upset feelings Mrs. Jeon may have, or whatever resentment she may have towards myself. If she wants to drag anyone through the dirt, she might as well drag me. Dr. Lee is entirely innocent in this, she was a huge stepping stone in bridging crucial pieces of information together and restoring the Cha family. In other words, keep my wife's name out of your mouth unless you're praising her. I'm tired of hearing this, so I have nothing more to say on the matter."

Your eyes are wide as he shrugs, before the reporter who spotted you makes a few moves up the steps, trying not to alert anyone else. You tilt your head at her, and she quietly steps up to you. She holds her recorder up slightly, and you nod, beckoning her closer with your hand.

"Dr. Lee, how do you feel about Lieutenant Lee coming to your defense amongst the influx of hate from netizens?" You lean down to her to speak into the small microphone, clearing your throat. "I think Lieutenant Lee is one of the most kind-hearted, driven, loving people in my life. There's a reason he's my husband, you know. I couldn't ask for a better man." The reporter's eyes soften as Heeseung turns around, bidding the reporters a goodbye as he buttons his coat up, trekking back up the stairs. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours as you give him a little wave. He walks up to you, giving the reporter a curt nod before slipping his fingers in yours. 

The reporter gives you a soft thank you, before walking down the steps. You let Heeseung guide you up the steps, and glance over your shoulder to see reporters taking photos of the two of you from behind. You nudge him with your elbow, and he looks down at you. "Yes?" "Kiss me." You tilt your head towards the reporters, and he snorts as the two of you reach the doors. "You sure?" "Positive." You nod as you pull your mask off, the camera flashes almost blinding as they watch you press your lips to Heeseung's, his arm wrapping around your waist as his hand cradles your cheek. Your lipstick stains his mouth as you pull away, and you give the reporters a cheeky thumbs up as he pulls you into the courthouse.

Sunoo's eyes are wide as you walk into his quarters with Heeseung, your lipstick now also stamped on his cheek from a kiss you gave him in the hallway. He smiles warmly as you offer a hug, embracing you tightly. "God, it's so nice to see you in love." He murmurs into your hair, patting your back before you all take a seat at his desk. The three of you are going over the options for lunch when you hear a knock at the door, your head whipping around to see your mother entering the office. Your eyes widen, and Heeseung is up before you know it. He's greeting her warmly, her face remaining stoic as he takes her coat. She looks tired, and you stand on shaky legs.

"Hello, Mother." You say softly, your eyes flickering to Heeseung and Sunoo as they stand to the side. She steps in front of you, her eyes scanning you carefully. You wince as she steps slightly closer, only for her to breathe out softly.

"I wanted to speak to you earlier this week, amidst everything in the media. However, I'm too prolific and I worried I'd be followed to your home, so I left a few messages on your answering machine. I assume you didn't receive them, so is now a good time?" She's still professional, your mother had no idea how to be comforting or warm. You nod slowly, shoving your trembling hands into your coat. "S-Sure. Yeah, we can talk." Your mother had never cared who was around when she spoke to you about anything. It was one of the more mortifying things about her, but she made up for it by keeping her voice quiet enough that only you could hear her.

"May I touch you?" She asks with a twinge in her voice you'd never heard, and you nod slowly. "Okay." She doesn't wait for another second, throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a tight embrace. Your eyes are wide as you look at Heeseung and Sunoo, their own the size of saucers as you awkwardly wrap your arms around her. "Are you…alright?" "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I read everything that you said in your interviews, about Chaeyoung and her reasons behind leaving, and how deeply you understood her dilemma. I never realized I was pushing you away, and I'm incredibly sorry if I ever made you feel like I wasn't supportive of your dreams or career choices. I know that this may be a too little, too late sort of situation, but I couldn't let more time go by without letting you know how proud I am of you and everything you've accomplished, not just as a professional but as a woman, as my daughter, as a wife."

Your eyes are stinging with tears as Heeseung's jaw drops, your mother pulling back to cup your face in her hands. "And I'll sue that little bitch for all she has for dragging you through the mud. I'll do it, I'll wring her dry of every asset she's ever acquired."

Her eyes are full of tears as you gape at her, before she presses a kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much, darling. I'm so, so sorry."

"Mom-" "I'm so glad to have you, darling. Please don't disappear on me, I promise you I cannot handle it." You let her pull you back into her embrace, the tears streaming down your cheeks before she pulls away quickly. "Alright, I've got a meeting I'm running late to. I just saw you in the window and I needed to pop in and talk to you. As you were, I'll give you a call later." She gives the three of you a curt nod, before taking her coat and skirting back out of Sunoo's office.

The three of you are silent, your arms wrapped around yourself as you cover your mouth with your hand. You don't wipe your tears as they stream down, and you look up at the men staring at you in shock. "She said she's proud of me." You whine suddenly, and Heeseung lets out a soft laugh as you walk into his embrace, Sunoo smiling to himself as Heeseung strokes your hair, sharing a glance with his long-time friend as you sob into his shirt. "Oh, my baby. You deserve all that and more."

"Should we push the meeting? I think we've got a lot of big feelings to work out, Dr. Lee." Sunoo speaks up gently, and you pout as Heeseung agrees before you can say anything. You mumble out an apology, but Sunoo shakes his head, waving you off. "Let me lead you out the backway, those reporters would have a ball with your crying face."

"Shut up, Sunoo." You scoff, making him snicker as he leads you both out of his office, your head bowed as you let Heeseung hide you from onlookers. You both quietly thanked Sunoo as he opened the door for you and bid you farewell, saying he'd try and get everything done before Heeseung's allotted vacation time. They agreed to meet again on Thursday, with Sunoo giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

"Give yourself some more credit, Y/N. You deserve it."

Saturday, 4:44pm.

"You found it? You look so beautiful, holy shit." Heeseung was laid on the bed, held up by his elbows as you stood in front of the mirror, a quizzical look on your face as you clipped in your earrings. You purse your lips, turning to face him, the sarong skirt of the dress he'd made you swinging slightly.

"You sure? It's not too…showy?" You pout, running your hands over the soft white fabric. You'd dug this dress back out specifically for this occasion, renewing your vows with your husband on a simple vacation in the middle of nowhere. By middle of nowhere, you mean the same field he proposed to you in, two hours out of Seoul and likely full of flowers this time of year.

"Baby, it's just you and me. You can be as showy as you want in your dress, as bummy as you want in your sweatpants. You're fucking angelic." He pulls you to him by your hips, "I did great on this hem, you can't lie." "Wonderful, yes." You roll your eyes, feeling his hands snake under the skirt. You allow it, feeling your cheeks warm as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your hip. "Let me go down on you." You sigh, rubbing your temples as your husband presses a kiss to your cleavage. "Heeseung, the sun is going to set and we're going to be doing this in the dark." "Can I go down on you after?" He questions, not really paying attention as he stands, his hands low on your back as he pulls you to him. "Heeseung." "Two orgasms, right after we're done, on the hood of my car." He offers, making you snort. "One orgasm, after we're done, in the backseat." "I'll take it!" He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, making you giggle as he lands a soft smack to your ass. "Stop it!" "You love me! Now get your cute ass in the car, we've got shit to do."

And it feels easy. It feels light, sitting next to Heeseung as he pulls out of the driveway with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding your fingers tightly. It feels good, listening to your husband sing along softly to soft jazz songs on the radio before you plug in your phone, and then hearing him sing along to your playlists. It feels like getting a breath of fresh air when you see the afternoon sunlight beaming on his skin, his white shirt reflecting the light painfully into your eyes. It feels like the way your heart starts beating a little faster when you catch a whiff of his spicy cologne, your eyes falling on him with a soft smile. It feels like an emotional orgasm when he times playing No Song Without You by HONNE perfectly to when you arrive, your pout being kissed off frantically by your attentive, doting husband. It feels like falling in love when he holds you close, pressing his lips anywhere you'd allow him to as you both reach into your pockets for the thick packets of words you've written. It feels like falling in love when he goes off script, holding the papers in his hand as he looks into your eyes. It feels like falling in love when he kisses your tears off your face as you tell him how much you appreciate his changes, it feels like falling in love when he says you should never thank him for doing what's right. It feels like falling in love, when he pulls a box out of his pocket and presents yet another gold ring to add to your set, with your initials engraved on the outside.

It feels like falling in love with he suggests you both pick flowers from the field to press when you get home. It feels like falling in love when he holds your hand and pulls you close when you've wandered too far, it feels like falling in love when he's kissing you against the hood of his car. It feels like falling in love when he carries you into the backseat and you wind up naked in his lap, a whining and writhing mess as he tells you how pretty you are, how much he loves you, how bad he wants to get you pregnant so everyone knows you're his. It feels like falling in love, when on the ride home, he can't keep his hands off you.

It feels like falling in love, when he wastes no time getting you in the bedroom, your dress on the floor with his shirt and pants. It feels like falling in love when he draws a bath for the two of you, it feels like falling in love when he tells you I love you as he washes your hair, your body, your face.

It feels like falling in love again, but this time? You don't feel like you're falling alone.

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

smut warnings. y/n does OF, sex on live stream, thats.. a big joystick you’ve got there, size difference/kink, daddy kink, begging, crying, subspace, praise, degradation, choking, hair pulling, squirting, fingering, biting, anal plug use, anal, rough sex, breeding, wet & messy, etc

———————————- ‘You like D&D, Audrey Hepburn, Fangoria, Harry Houdini, and Croquet. You can’t swim, you can’t dance, and you don’t know karate. Face it, you’re never gonna make it.’

‘I don’t wanna make it, I just wanna—‘(Refer to: ‘I’m Not Okay(I Promise) by My Chemical Romance music video)

Jungwon frowns at the TV screen, sighing as he alternates between watching some old corny emo video play and his manager bops along, occasionally tapping his foot to the beat.

“Never liked this video.” He says annoyed, pushing a cart full of shipment out. “Did these losers ever consider that they got bullied because they suck?”

“Did you just say you don’t like My Chem?!?” Heeseung stammers, clutching his chest. “Get the hell out of my store!”

“Now this,” Jungwon grins, forwarding to the next video. “This is music.”

“Ugh. This guy sounds like someone’s gripping the life out of his sack.” Heeseung grumbles. “Take that mask off and let's see if girls would still be losing their shit over their band.”

Jungwon shrugs, leaning against the cart. “Speaking of masks, I wore one last night while streaming. The tips went crazy.”

“How much did you make?”

“Easy $2000 in less than a couple of hours. Couldn’t even focus on my game because the chat was going wild. Maybe the crop top helped.” Jungwon nudges an elbow into his friend's side. “You should try it, look.” Whipping out his phone from his work vest, he taps open a recording from the night prior filling the screen with half of his face covered by a cat mask. The pink and white ears matching well with his cropped ‘baby girl’ top.

“Oh dude..” Heeseung makes a disgusted face, shoving his hand onto the screen to hide it from his sight. “I don’t wanna watch you wiggle and giggle around like a whore for cash.”

“Least I have more money in my account than you, Mister GameStop manager.” Jungwon whistles sarcastically. “Wouldn’t hurt you to try a little. You’re always complaining about the lack of viewers you pull.”

“GameStop partner, don’t forget that I own this place and cover the rent just because we’re friends.” Heeseung corrects, folding his arms on top of the shelf he’s been stocking. “I shouldn’t even be out here right now. Where the hell is Jake?”

“You’re the one who made the executive decision to hire your friends instead of some loner teenagers willing to work for minimum wage.” Jungwon shrugs, patting the olders back. “I’ll call him. That assholes probably jerking off or still asleep.”

“As long as he gets here before my lunch.” Heeseung groans to himself, rubbing his stomach that makes a sound of agreement before returning to complete his morning tasks. It’s been a solid year since he signed contracts and made the decision to commit to owning a business. A year of struggling, pulling at his hair, counting and recounting cash each time he ends up short by the end of another month and has to dig into his savings. 

Surely this was not the dream his parents had in mind when paying off his tuition and allowing him to move out to complete university without distraction. At least they could sleep peacefully at night knowing he’d never have parties raided at the apartment they helped pay for each month.

No. He’d have to have more than a handful of friends and off-handed acquaintances to throw an actual rager of a party. Unless evenings filled with screaming at Jake and Jungwon about Dungeons and Dragons rules counted.. they did get pretty rowdy at times.

“What up limp dicks!” The miscreant himself also known as his best friend hollers, kicking the doors open to the store. Vest half strewn off his upper-half, hair a mess still plastered to his skull as if he hadn’t bothered to run a comb through it. Likely that he couldn’t even find one in his bathroom, let alone remember owning one.

“See Hee,” Jungwon claps. “Your elite employee has arrived!”

“Elite my ass.” Heeseung grunts, glaring at his friend as he makes his way to clock in.

“Tskkk, read the sign!” He points at the wall behind the register where a large print of his glowing smile has been framed and hung up.

“Elite employee of the month.” Jungwon reads, wagging a finger at their manager. “He’s got you there.”

“Fine fine, oh so elite one. Listen, I had to change your schedule this weekend. Gyu hit me up about going out to Eagle Stone with his group for larping and—“

“Larping?!?” Jake spits, grabbing his hair and screaming out obnoxiously. “God man! How are you possibly getting even worse! You’re never going to get laid again!”

“What’s wrong with larping?!” Heeseung squeaks suddenly, grabbing his throat as he coughs. “I mean.. keep it down would you?”

“Dude, you’re going to have to cancel, already have plans this weekend.” Jake says, holding out a hand toward his friend. “You should be thanking me. I am saving you from decades of humiliation that you’ll never be able to live down.”

“Don’t be so lame.” Heeseung glares at him, nervously tugging on the lanyard around his neck. “Was hoping we could take our D&D crew out there and—“

“No way, I refuse.” Jake grimaces, waving his arms in dismay as the bell chimes above the door sing from the other side of the store. “Hee, man, straight up dude. I am telling you this as not only your elite employee but also as your best friend. Your dick has cobwebs at this point dude, you haven’t gotten laid in months.”

“Guys.” Jungwon whispers, patting Jake’s arm.

“That’s not true!” Heeseung hisses quietly, eyes widening from embarrassment.

“Oh yeah? Prove it because last time I can recall was Sunghoon’s Birthday, and you’re lucky I don’t tell him that you fucked his cousin because—“

“Guys.” Jungwon repeats, breathily, now wrapped around Jake’s arm.

“That’s none of his business! And we had a really lovely evening!” 

“Guys!!”

“What?!” Jake and Heeseung both snap at once, finding Jungwon’s eyes wide as saucers as he stares out into the store. Following his gaze leads them to sporting the same expression when they spot you.

“Who the fuck is that.” Jake mumbles. Throat going dry where he stands and eyes from your ankles to your butt perked out as you bend down lower to add another game into your basket.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say—“ Jungwon’s cut off by Heeseung frowning at the both of them.

“A customer.” He states, straightening up and clearing his throat. “Who clearly could use some assistance!”

Rushing over to do just that, he leaves the two behind the register shaking their heads. 

“He’s hopeless.” Jake bemoans, slapping his forehead.

Jungwon nods, sad that he can only agree as he watches the older tiptoe around the section you search through without approaching. “Tell me about it.”

To say that Heeseung Lee is hopeless would be an understatement. He’s what some may consider a reject of society, socially awkward, introverted, but one thing he knows how to do is his job. With a happy smile he comes over to stand next to you, sneaking a look at the games you’ve started to choose. “Ah, a fellow role player.”

Startled by his deep and chipper voice, you jump to stand straight. Setting the gift card in your hand back onto the display. “Excuse me?”

“Oh.” He clears his throat, looking away when you meet his gaze. “I’m sorry Miss, you must be shopping for gifts—“

“Yeah.” You snort, nodding to the pink cat ear headset in your basket. “Gifts for me.”

“Oh!” He brightens up. Motioning to your basket. “Great choices! Do you perhaps have a membership with us yet? I don’t believe I have seen you in here before.”

“I actually do.” Turning around to look at him, you squint at his name badge. “You’re the manager?”

“Owner, actually!” He says proudly. Lifting up his lanyard to tap the title on his work ID. “I’m here all of the time.”

“Oh wow, that’s great. I actually just moved into town a couple of weeks ago, still getting settled in.” 

Heeseung lights up even more, smiling from ear to ear. “Seriously? No wonder I haven’t seen you here before. What brings you to town?”

“Well,” appearing in thought, you shrug. “Work.”

“What do you do?” He asks curiously, shaking his head. “Sorry sorry, you don't have to answer. I get caught up in conversation sometimes—“

“I’m a streamer.” You nod, showing him the basket in your hold. “Gaming.”

Heeseung’s throat bobs, letting out a small ‘ah.’ As if everything makes sense now. Really kicking himself in the ass for prioritizing this managerial job over his dreams of gaming online for thousands of viewers and admirers. He could have been as world renowned as Faker if he had committed to working hard on building a platform. “That’s such a cool job.” He forces himself to say. Beginning to feel awkward for not responding immediately, he counts the items in your basket. “You know what, since you’re buying so much I’d love to offer you a discount!”

“Oh what? No, I don’t need one. Seriously, thank you though.” You’re fast to reject his offer. Shyly flushing and looking away. Pretending to be distracted by the wall of plushies.

“No no, please! Think of it as a moving gift. I’m sure as an online gamer you’ll be frequenting this area quite often.”

“Well,” shifting from side to side for a minute, you nod and grab one more gift card. “I’m doing a few giveaways for my viewers.” You inform, following him to the register.

“Wow that’s really cool, you must have quite the following.” 

Jungwon and Jake watch from the side with their jaws on the floor. Heeseung could possibly be the most oblivious dense clueless idiot they've ever known. Speaking to a pretty girl he could easily engage in flirtatious conversation with as if she’s just another customer, neither of them can believe it.

“Mm.. I guess I do.” Brushing off the topic, you throw a few keychains into your basket. “Might as well make the most of this discount.” You shrug, smiling at the other employees. Jake clears his throat, diverting his gaze as if he wasn’t just gawking at you as Jungwon moves away quickly to hide in the break room.

“How’s 15 percent sound?” Heeseung smiles, the same customer service smile he’s dawned for years now. The type of smile you have to force after months of dealing with scammer returns, thievery, and fraudulent coupons. 

“I’ll take it!” You eagerly express, bouncing up and down. He gulps, eyes going wide as he focuses on ringing up your items. 

“You’re already a member, you said?”

“Oh yeah, my emails thedruidessnymph at gmail.” 

Heeseung’s fingers hover over the register keyboard, repeating your email in his head. He slowly lifts his head to meet your gaze. “D-do you play D&D too?”

Lighting up at the mention of the game, you nod. “I used to! In high school, I’ve been too busy to really involve myself anymore. Do you play?”

He nods, turning around to fiddle with different advertisement flyers and free gaming magazines to add to your bag. “I’m a wizard.” 

Putting your items away, he states your total. Not once confused by the black card you retrieve from your wallet to pay with. “What’s your specialty?”

Heeseung scratches his Adam's apple, eyeing the vent above his head. Why’s it so hot in here all of a sudden? “Illusionists.”

“That’s really cool, I know wizards aren’t really utilized in battle but I can definitely see how throwing out some spells could really assist your side.”

Wiping the trickles of sweat forming at his nape, he dry swallows. “Uh huh,” handing you your bag of items, he waves to end this conversation. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me about my specialty?” You playfully ask, taking your purchase.

Heeseung forces himself to smile, tight-lipped. “You’re a druid.”

“I prefer druidess, but yes.” You say proudly, moving to stand at the side of the register. “I’ve thought about changing my character a few times, a sorcerer or a warlock sounds much cooler. But I’m kind of attached to the lore I’ve built.”

“Do you transform at all?” Pretending to be busy with organizing the mess that Jungwon’s left at the register, he keeps his head low. He’s never been great at maintaining eye contact for too long, most especially with the opposite gender.

“That’s the thing, I turn into a wolf.” Lifting your hand up to form a paw, you let out a soft growl. “Real scary, huh?”

Heeseung’s lips twitch with a real smile, clearing his throat and shaking it off. “There isn’t much of a D&D community around here, but if you ever want to do some live action gaming, in the next town over; I’ve gone a few times. It’s nothing really crazy, just a bunch of people dressed up as their characters out in the woods.”

“You mean, like, larping?”

The sound of Jake groaning from behind a shelf he’s been pretending to stock tickles at his ears. Ignoring that, he turns to look at you, blinking in disbelief. “D-do you larp?”

“I’ve always wanted to! I have such good costume ideas. I’ll bring them next time to show you! Oh my God that’d be so fun!” 

Heeseung should correct himself, because he wasn’t inviting you. No, only making a recommendation, but now you’re smiling at him as if this is the most exciting news you’ve heard all day and he can’t deny you. “Next time you come into the store?”

“Yeah, told you, I’ll be here a lot. Better get used to this face.” You sound even more bubbly now. A real pep in your step and he wonders if he just unintentionally initiated a friendship. Softly laughing to make himself do something, he shoots you a thumbs up.

“Yeah, I’ll..” really looking at your face, he licks at his lips. Taking in your eyes, nose, and teeth that are aligned in a nearly perfect way. Fresh glowy skin and hair framing your face. “I’ll remember.”

“Great!” Leaning onto the register counter, you squint at his name badge. “Heeseung! Thanks again for the discount!” 

“No problem.” He waves goodbye, looking away before you exit the store. Only when the bell above the door chimes does he take a deep breath, fanning his face. “Need to check on that A/C.”

“Dude what the fuck was that.” Jake exclaims, jogging over to the register. “What were you talking about for so long?”

Heeseung shrugs, picking up a box of damaged returns to take to the back. “Nothing really. New customer is all.”

Jungwon exits the bathroom as they enter the small break room, excitedly hopping over to where Heeseung begins to cut up empty game boxes. “Did you get her number?”

“What?!” 

Jake sighs, shoving Jungwon back. “Dude not to sound crazy because even I’m confused, but she was totally flirting with you!”

“Oh, you’re definitely crazy.” He nervously laughs, throwing out the rest of the damaged merchandise. “She’s new in town, I was just giving her some recommendations on what to do around here.”

“Larping?!” Jake shouts, cupping his forehead and groaning. “Listen to me, Heeseung, as your best employee and best friend.”

“Please stop self-titling yourself.”

“As your best employee and best friend!” Jake repeats, following him to the little janitor’s closet he uses as an office. “That girl was most definitely into you, I don’t know why but—“

“Thanks man.”

Jungwon huddles behind Jake in the doorway of the closet. “She looked so familiar.” He ponders, pinching his chin. “But I mean, if Jake’s right then you should totally go for it! You need to get laid, man.”

“I’d really love it if you guys would go work the register and actually stock some of the new shipment.” Heeseung looks at his friends pitifully. “I haven’t had breakfast today, and my stomachs starting to rumble.”

The two watch as he pulls out a snack pack of cheese and nuts, stuffing his cheeks in front of the computer screen showing visuals of the store. Moving on from the subject as he opens up his emails and lets out a tired sigh.

“Fine Heeseung.” Jake grinds his teeth, glaring at Jungwon. “Enjoy your lunch.”

———————————-

“Ddongy, I’m home.”

Heeseung’s baby bombay cat scampers down the corridor to where he’s still removing his shoes by the door. “Woah woah!” Laughing as he moves around to shut the door behind him, he picks up his 8 month old baby, immediately burying his face into Ddongy’s soft fury stomach. “Ahh, I missed you.”

Making his way to the kitchen, he rubs his cheeks against Ddongy’s, enjoying the purrs his kitten lets out before setting him down on the floor to grab him treats. “I know I know, I’m home late.” 

A few of Ddongy’s favorite treats appeases him enough to forgive and forget, at least until dinner time when he’ll be screaming and clawing up Heeseung’s leg to be immediately fed. “Today was a lot.”

Setting his palms against the kitchen counter, he hangs his head. It’s already 6pm, already dark outside, and he’s been up since 5am. Going in to open the store and do most of the work before his friends clock in at 10am for opening, he needs a minute to refresh himself before he can enjoy a hot meal. 

Making his way to the bathroom, he begins to strip off his clothes. Tossing his shirt uniform onto a hanger before he turns on the shower. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, something he typically tries to avoid. 

It’s been awhile since Heeseung really took the time to look at himself. His eye bags have gotten bigger, cheeks more sunken, skin more pale and sallow, and his hairs nearly half way down his neck. God, he needs to schedule a haircut.

He needs to sleep more. He needs to eat better and stop stuffing his face with instant ramen. He needs to drink water instead of soda. He needs to start washing his face, maybe throw on some skincare every now and then. 

He needs to do so much, and yet he can’t find the motivation to.

He needs to get laid.

According to his friends, that should be his first priority. And as much as he hates to agree with them about something so superficial, he can’t say they’re wrong.

“She definitely was not flirting with me.” He says to his reflection, taking in how exhausted he looks one more time before stepping into the shower.

It has been months since he last had sex. Not because he’s not horny and desperate for it, his calloused palms would highly dispute that argument. 

Sex can be hard. It shouldn’t be hard to enjoy sex. At least he doesn’t think it should be, and he’s not quite comfortable enough with his sex obsessed friends to admit that. They don’t need to know that he feels more empty mentally than he does physically after he has sex. That he prefers to get off to romantic fanfiction about Genshin Impact characters instead of watching hardcore porn. 

They berate him enough for not wanting to hit up clubs or college parties they get invited to. Heeseung’s convinced somethings wrong with him, he hasn’t had a real girlfriend since his freshman year of high school, and that could hardly qualify as a real relationship.

As he scrubs his skin with a washcloth and soap, he really tries to think about what happened today. Namely, he thinks about you. Were you flirting with him? And why couldn’t he pick up on it if you were? Why did he start to feel nauseous and clammy while having a very normal conversation with you? Why does the thought of your smile make his stomach turn, even now, hours later.

He dries off and feeds Ddongy, right on time as his cat paws at the sweats he pulls on and his feet pad over to the kitchen. “Good boy,” he hums, squatting down to scratch down his back. “You’re eating so well Ddongy.”

It’s 8pm now, and Heeseung has to wake up early to open the store again. He sighs and plops into his computer chair. Rubbing the desire to sleep away from his face as he logs onto discord and finds his friends are all active. 

MysticWizardFate1015: ‘Going to keep it easy and play Stardew tonight guys.’

Opening up a stream and setting up for his screen to be shared with any viewers that enter, he slouches and turns on the game. Nothing he has to think too deeply about. Simple enough to entice his brain without wanting to keep him up for hours with the need to play.

PrettyKittyBoy9669: ‘Heeseung, we’ve been talking. After telling Jay about your potential new girlfriend, we agree, she was into you.’

IKEUDICKEU: ‘Yeah dude, fuck this game. We finally have something interesting to talk about on here.’

FingeringMyGuitar02: ‘I hear she’s way out of your league though.’

Heeseung groans, pausing the game to read what his immature friends are going on about. “Guys, come on. This isn’t what I logged on for.”

PrettyKittyBoy9669: ‘Yes it is. We need to figure out how to get you a girlfriend.’

FingeringMyGuitar02: ‘She sounds like your type though! And Jake looked up the last email you typed in, said she does a lot of online shopping. If she keeps coming back into the store then she definitely wants you.’

“Jake, you did what?! That’s—that’s against policy!” Heeseung throws off his headset, grabbing his phone to text Jake separately.

IKEUDICKEU: ‘It was an accident! I was gonna search myself up to see when I last bought something and her email came up as a recommendation!’

Heeseung grumbles, half buying that lie. Knowing that the ancient POS system they use does for some reason prompt the last thing he typed to pop up whenever he even grazes the keyboard. “Jake, my office, tomorrow.”

IKEUDICKEU: ‘Dude, you know we both can’t fit in there.’

PrettyKittyBoy9669: ‘Anyway, she lives only a few blocks away from the store. I’ll try to find more information, but she might use a pseudonym online because the name she registered with isn’t coming up with shit.’

“This is stalking!” Heeseung shouts, startling Ddongy and quickly apologizing. “Please, let’s be normal here! She probably has a boyfriend.”

IKEUDICKEU: ‘Does that mean you’re interested in finding out?’

PrettyKittyBoy9669: ‘Yeah, fuck all of this for a second Hee. Are you attracted to her? Would you be interested in a girl like that if she is into you?’

“I..” leaning back into his gaming chair, he rubs at his temples. Closing his eyes shut to really think about what he’s going to say. The same smile that’s been plaguing the back of his mind all day reappears. Biting down on his lip to stop himself from reacting, he slips down into his seat. Rolling his eyes up to look at the ceiling. “I find her very attractive.”

IKEUDICKEU: ‘Great! That’s all we needed to hear.’

———————————-

To say that today has started off terribly would be an understatement. 

Ddongy decided that 3am was a perfect time to catch a case of the zoomies. Racing around the living room bouncing off the walls and waking Heeseung up.

Of course he fell asleep at the computer after arguing with his friends about his nonexistent love life for another hour until they all logged off and decided to meet up to get burgers. He passed, knowing that he’d have to wake up at the crack of dawn to drive himself to work.

Making Ddongy give him kisses despite how he writhed in his hands, he laughed, and stumbled right into his kitchen table stubbing his toe. Clasping a hand across his mouth to stop himself from shouting out a pained howl. He hopped around on one foot, his other throbbing as he reached the kitchen counter and Ddongy tilted his small kitten head in confusion watching his owner hunch over and whimper into his hand.

On top of his back cracking a hundred different ways from sleeping in the most foul of positions, he limped to his car after getting an hour of sleep in his actual bed. Deciding to leave a little early to grab himself a hot coffee before heading into work. That would definitely set his day straight, some strong hot caffeine.

Or at least it would have, if he hadn’t misplaced his store keys and hadn’t fumbled the paper cup in his hold as he reached into the bottom of his backpack in search of the keys.

This time he let out an anguished frustrated cry, echoing out into the empty parking lot as hot coffee drenched his pants.

“Fuck!! FUCK!!” He shouted, jumping up and down in place to shake the liquid off. 

There’s just no way he can make today any better. Not with rent due at the end of the month, not with the electricity bill being higher than it ever is, not with the $8 he wasted on coffee only to paint his pants with.

Now he’s sulking over a small cup of instant brew, failing to convince himself that it doesn’t taste like pure dirt water. This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

And he should know better than to speak too soon.

“Riwoo, how many times do I have to tell you that you cannot open up a trading card set until you pay!” Heeseung hates raising his voice, especially at work. He tries to keep it at a whispered tone, peering over the shelves at Jake who’s been playing a game on his phone behind the register ever since he clocked in an hour ago.

Don’t ever hire your friends.

“Shut up Lee,” this damn snarky kid has the audacity to scoff at him. “You know I have the money.”

“That doesn’t matter Riwoo!” The entrance chimes again, but he doesn’t look. Too flustered as he follows after one of the many teenagers that insists on making his life a living hell. “You cannot open that set until you pay!”

“Here!” Riwoo shouts, hurling a twenty dollar bill at him. “Damn.”

“At the register!” Heeseung gripes, reminding himself to breathe.

“Holy shit!” Riwoo jumps onto the tips of his feet, victoriously raising up a Charizard GX card. One that immediately draws Heeseung’s eye and gathers drool around his tongue. “And this my friends! Is why I continue to put up with this fucking nerd!” He turns around, holding the card up like a trophy with spread open lifted arms. 

“T-that’s a rare Charizard.” He says more to himself. Slowly reaching for the card only for Riwoo to snatch it away, furrowing his eyebrows angrily. 

“I know that idiot, don’t touch!”

“No no!” Heeseung stammers, digging into his back pocket for his wallet. “Here, take your money back, you cannot leave this store with that Pokémon set.”

“The hell I can’t!” Riwoo runs away down the aisle, making Heeseung chase after him. He moves to the next row to stop him, only to be met with a foot slamming into his shin. The same one leading down to his stubbed toe, he cries out. Dragging down a bunch of games lined up on a shelf nearby as he falls down to his knees and the stupid kid runs past him flipping him off. “Fucking loser!”

The door's bells chime a few times, probably all of his friends running out after him to cheer him on. Heeseung catches his breath, sitting on his ass and rubbing his shin. 

God, that was embarrassing..

“Dude.” Jake frowns at him, coming to stand in front of him. “That was embarrassing.”

“I’m aware.” Heeseung mumbles, glaring at his best friend for not even offering to help him stand up.

“Yeah, mostly because that girl came in.” Jake continues, fussing with his hair. “Something about a thank you card for yesterday.” He motions toward the register. “And she saw you chasing around that 15 year old..”

“What?!” Heeseung jumps to stand, hissing and cradling his shin. Large eyes darting around the store in search of your face. 

“I dunno, she uh, left after Riwoo ran out.” Frowning at the older, he pats his shoulder. “Was nice to dream. For what it’s worth, I really do think she was into you before she saw you bullying a kid.”

“I was not bullying him!” Stomping over to the register with his one good leg, mostly hobbling, he grabs his keys. Pausing when he spots a hot pink envelope with the nicest cursive writing he’s seen spelling out ‘Thank You’.

“Is this from her?” Picking up the envelope to inspect it, he sniffs. Catching a trace of sweetness, something sugary and clean. Is that perfume?..

“Yeah, told you, she had some excuse about wanting to thank the manager for the discount yesterday.” Jake waves it off like no big deal. Informing Heeseung that he’ll be taking his 15 minute break(that will inevitably be 30 minutes) even though he just clocked in an hour ago.

“A thank you note?” Wrinkling his eyebrows together, he leans against the register counter. The pain going up his shin slowly fading as he does his best to gently tear open the pink folded paper. 

Pulling out two papers folded together inside, he opens them to find your writing.

‘Great wizard, I’ve scoured the lands in search of assistance for centuries now. My breed has been on the decline, and I, without a mate, cannot reproduce to assist my dying population.

I ask for your help now wizard of mystic and illusions to guide me and direct my way to a successful future.

(btw included a sketch I made of my costume a few years ago! pls don’t laugh!! I’m way better at drawing now!! ;~;)’

Heeseung quickly pulls out the next page, jaw dropping at the drawing. It’s clearly you, with a wolf skull on your head, more strings and straps on your figure than actual clothing, and a deadly looking bow and arrow across your back. His fingers drag down the drawing to the boots you’ve drawn, decorated with sharp canine teeth along the sides. He can picture you wearing this, and once again he purses his lips annoyed, arching his neck back to glare at the ceiling vent.

“Electricity bill so high for what—“

Cool air hits his face silencing him. Licking at his lips, he drags a sweaty palm down his pants still carrying the smell of coffee. Rubbing his stomach that feels more like wings fluttering and beating against his insides than actual nausea.

Now why would butterflies be erupting in his stomach?

“Oh fuck.” 

Heeseung wipes at the back of his neck, fanning his shirt off of his chest. He’s being ridiculous, he’s too old to have a crush! What even is a crush? Reddit might know.

There’s no way he’s about to hop onto Reddit to fucking seek advice on this. 

Why is my throat tightening up? Am I getting sick? Or did I just fall in love?

God, he’s screwed. And his shin really hurts. Enough to make him want to permanently ban Riwoo from ever entering this store again. Not that he will, unfortunately he’s all too familiar with Riwoo’s family situation. He and his mother have been squatting at a hotel a few blocks away for over a month now, only barely finding a room to share with his brother. That damn Pokémon card could be the highlight of his year, whereas it's a mere blow to Heeseung’s ego. 

“Whatever.” Tossing his phone down after searching through different threads, he’s positive he’s not developing feelings. Maybe all the shitty convenience food that makes up 95% of his diet has finally caught up to him. Yeah, that’s probably it.

“Alright, I’m out of here.” Jake announces after taking his lunch. Once again reiterating that Heeseung really needs to post a ‘help wanted’ sign, or online advertisements. 

“Have a hot date tonight.” He says proudly. Licking two of his fingers before he drags them across his eyebrows to smooth them down. “Girl with these tig ‘ole bitties.” He cups around his chest, squishing his eyebrows together. “Moved into my building, and fuck man, I need to get some of that.”

Jake’s probably one of his horniest friends, ever since they entered high school he’s been on a mission to shove his dick inside of any hole that will host him. When he’s not thinking about sex, he’s thinking about the last time he had sex, or looking up new positions he hasn’t tried yet. His mind screams for sex sex sex, directing most of the conversations they have to talk about sex.

Heeseung sighs, shrugging, he waves off his friend. “Hey dude,” Jake pauses before heading out. Tugging a red velvet beret onto his head. “Sorry I won’t be able to catch your stream tonight, but you should skip it and get some rest. You look like shit..”

Reaching past the register, he squeezes Heeseung’s shoulder and makes his way out of the store, bouncing on balls of his feet before jumping into the air and clicking his ankles together. All that Heeseung can think while watching his friend leave is what a shame it is that he refuses to get into D&D.

He’d make a great gnome.

The rest of the night goes pretty easy, allowing him ample time to clean up the mess he created earlier while chasing Riwoo around. He finishes stocking the shipment that came in yesterday. Eyeing the time before deciding he can shut off the register and outdoor lights to start working on a new display. This might be one of his favorite parts of the job. 

Unraveling his headphones that are hanging on for dear life, he slots them into his ears and plugs in his phone. The best part about working a double shift from open to close is definitely how quiet and peaceful the store feels. It’s the one time Heeseung really gets to enjoy one of the many playlists he creates only to ignore 5 days out of the week and leave playing as low volume tunes while he games. 

Tonight’s playlist of 2000s club hits really titillates him, working through cleaning and wiping down the area he’s going to set out the latest Mario Kart game. He’s been dealing with the layout and design through emails all week with Nintendo corporate. They’re more particular and demanding than they should be given the revenue they pull in and how effortlessly their games fly off the shelves. 

He pauses to look over the display photos they’ve sent over before diving into cutting boxes open. He’ll have to get this done pretty fast if he wants to get home on time to feed Ddongy before it’s too late and his baby ignores him for the rest of the night.

“Oh, this is my song!” He mumbles to himself. Pulling out different cut outs of Mario and Princess Peach to set up. His hips shimmy along to the music blasting from his headphones, moving with a mind of their own as he sings along.

‘She’s nothing like the girl you’ve ever seen before! Nothing you can compare to your neighborhood whore!’ Picking up the box cutter he’s been using, he slides it shut. Raising the tool closer to his lips to sing into it like a mic. ‘I’m trying to find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful!’

He slides down the aisle and back again, eyes shut, lifting one of his arms up and rolling his hips into a circle. ‘The way that booty moving I can’t take no more! Have to stop what I’m doing so I can pull her close!’

Spinning on his foot, he wraps around the air in front of him. Shoving his hips forward to mimic himself grinding against another body on the dance floor. ‘I’m trying to find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful!!’

Right as the beat drops, he stomps and breaks into a dance through the aisle. Squeezing his eyes shut while throwing his hips from side to side. ‘Damn girl!’ Heeseung throws his head back, tossing his head around. His messy unstyled hair flops with him. ‘Damn you’s a sexy b—‘ lifting a hand to his mouth, he covers it before getting the curse word out. ‘Damn you’s a sexy—ahh!!’

Straightening his neck, his eyes flicker open, landing on your amused smile at the end of the aisle. His feet cross, ankles twisting together and before Heeseung can even process what’s just happened, his phone flies from his pocket into the air. The wires of his headphones latched onto a part of the display sticking out, ripping the buds from his ears. Pain shoots through his shin once again as he lands fully onto his knees inside of one of the boxes he’s opened. Crushing Wario’s face as the cardboard digs into the front of his shin and knee and he lets out an anguished cry.

“Oh my God!”

Oh this day. This day could not get worse.

Heeseung’s shin is officially down 2 points now, when he was never even aware of the scoreboard to begin with. He slumps back into the display set up, clutching his leg up to his chest and hissing. “I’m so sorry—I thought maybe you’d heard me come in! The door was unlocked!”

Blinking up, he can’t believe it’s you again. Especially since you came by earlier unbeknownst to him and got to witness a 15 year old handing him his own ass on a platter. “Huh?!”

Too tired and beyond mortified to process what the hell you’re rambling about. He rolls up his jeans and curses under his breath. Of course he scrapped the first layer of skin right off of his knee, that would explain the throbbing. “Oh my God that looks terrible, where’s your first aid kit?!” You ask frantically.

Shoving his pants back down, he nods toward the break room entrance. Grabbing onto the shelf of games nearby to pull himself up. Your hands hover near his torso, reaching for his free arm while insisting to help him stand. “Please please I’m really sorry about this! I really thought you heard the door chime.”

Ah shit. He didn’t lock the doors. “I should have, I don’t know—I should have!” You continue to ramble. Dragging your fingers through your hair in a rather anxious and crazed manner. Wide eyes bouncing around the store for an escape or something to hide under. 

“It’s okay.” He says quietly, gently taking your wrists and moving your hands away from pulling at your hair. “I had my headphones on—“

Pausing mid-sentence, he slowly blinks. Picturing the smile on your face when he spotted you leaning against one of the shelfs watching him dance like a complete fool to Sexy Bitch. Oh God.

“How long have you been here?” He wearily asks, not really wanting to hear an answer. 

“Five?.. Seven minutes?” You shrug nervously. Picking up his phone for him to make sure he didn’t crack the screen.

“I don’t always do that.” He mumbles, internally convulsing. He nods as a thank you as he accepts his phone. “We’re supposed to be closed..”

“I know, I’m sorry, I should have known that—honestly though, you dance really good!”

Ugh.

Heeseung grimaces, looking away and scratching at his Adams apple. His knee throbs harder, imploring him to grab ice from the fridge. The walk up the stairs to his apartment is gonna blow harder than usual tonight. 

“You said the first aid is back here?” Moving around him, you point toward the door leading to the break room. Shooting his eyes open he follows behind you, hobbling on one foot. 

“You can’t go back there!”

“Why?..”

“You don’t work here!” He says adamantly, swallowing when you begin to squint at him. “Company policy..”

“Don’t you like.. own this place?” You ask, continuing to question him with your gaze. Heeseung nods, pushing the break room door open. 

“You’re right, I guess it doesn’t matter..” 

Moments like this really set in how right his friends are about him. He’s an uptight hardass nerd that could benefit from a night out, dancing with real women instead of the ones he only imagines. “I mean, if you really aren’t okay with me being here right now, I can leave.” You murmur, anxiously fiddling with your fingers. “I just feel really bad about your leg.”

“It’s okay, you can come back here. I’ll allow it.” Turning his back toward you, he squeezes his eyes mouthing ‘what the fuck’ to himself. Why is he such a dweeb?!

“I really am sorry Heeseung, about startling you like that. I should have came by earlier but I got busy with some last minute errands.” You wave off, looking around the small break room. 

Limping to the bathroom, he comes back to the table where the guys usually eat their meals. Dumping the first aid kit open with a look of confusion. “We close at 8.”

“I know—I—I know that.” You stammer a little, picking up a few of the alcohol swab packets. “Can I?”

Heeseung eyes you apprehensively, chewing his bottom lip for a few seconds before nodding and perching his bottom against the table. Setting his leg onto one of the chairs, he hisses as he rolls his jeans back up and winces at the sight of his scuffed knee, already beginning to swell with a bruise. Great.

“Here I thought I was going to make you feel better.” Muttering under your breath, you grab a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Moving down onto your knees for a better view of his leg. He hisses as you start to clean off his wound, apologizing with each swipe.

“Wh-what are you doing here this late? I thought you came in today already?” Taking this chance to get a good look at your face while you focus, he really starts to study your features. Much like the other day you have on some makeup, eyeliner and mascara. A little of that glowly stuff on your cheeks and nose bridge. And your lips, they’re cutely shaped, almost like a heart. More pronounced by whatever tint and sparkly gloss you have on. His mouth tweaks to one side, the only thought running through his mind is how pretty you are. Even as you dab the deeper part of his cut with an alcohol swab that burns and makes him shiver.

You’re pretty. You’re really pretty.

Too pretty for him.

“So yeah, I tried talking to that kid. Riwoo?”

Wait what? Snapping himself out of his thoughts he focuses on your voice, looking away when you look up at him. “When he ran out, I went after him to see if he’d cut me a deal.”

“What??” He sits up straight. Hissing as he shoves his jeans back down and moves away from the table. “You talked to Riwoo? Why?”

“Well, for the Charizard card—

There is absolutely no way this day could get worse. It’s almost laughable, except it’s way too embarrassing, and if he ever had a chance with you he undoubtedly ruined that after this day.

“The Charizard card.” He repeats monotonously. Eyes darting to your hands diving into your bag. 

“Riwoo wouldn’t sell me his.. I really tried to bargain with him but, I did some digging around online and actually found a guy in town with the exact same card.”

“T-that’s a secret rare Charizard GX card.” He thinks his lips move to say, maybe that’s his voice speaking. But all that he can focus on is the colors beaming back at him under the break room's fluorescent lights, blurring the wishful look on your face from behind the piece of expensive paper you’re holding up for him.

“Yeah, I really hope it’s legit cause,” you laugh awkwardly, stretching your arm out toward him. “It’s yours.”

“What?!” He stumbles back, raising his hands away from the card. Huffing a mildly terrified laugh at the idea of accepting such an outrageous offer. “For h-how much??”

“Oh, I wasn’t—I’m not charging you anything! You seemed like you really wanted this.” You shrug, capturing your bottom lip to bite on. “Here, please, take it.”

Shaking the card at him, his eyes go wide enough to fall out. Shaking his head rapidly, he waves his arms in dismay. “You’re crazy, I can’t accept that?!”

“Why?? Is it fake??”

“No!” Reaching to pull on his hair, he stares at the card in disbelief. Slowly dragging his gaze from the pretty manicured designs on your nails to the bracelets you have on, your slouchy sweater, and then to your pretty pretty face. So freaking pretty.

A pretty girl offering him a rare Charizard GX as if it’s a fucking piece of gum. This day could actually not get any crazier. 

“I really cannot accept that. Thank you though.”

The small amount of hope on your face crumbles, dragging the corners of your lips down as you nod and put the card back away inside of your wallet of all places. His teeth grind, holding himself back from saying anything about how you should be taking care of such a rare card. “I should uh, clean up the mess I made.” Motioning to exit the break room, he steps back for you to step out first. Turning the lights off and jingling the store keys in his pocket.

“It’s really late now..” you mention, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Can I at least drive you home? For all the trouble I’ve caused?”

Heeseung’s mouth opens to reply, ready to shake his head ‘no’ until he thinks about Ddongy meowing at him this morning. 

His baby!

“Ddongy!” He panics. Quickly shoving the boxes of the display aside to clear the path of the aisle.

“What?”

“My cat!” Tugging at his hair again, he jogs to the registers to make sure they’re turned off. “I have to go! He hasn’t ate since morning!

“Oh my God..” you say in awe, following him around as he runs from corner to corner of the store checking all the plugs. “You have a cat..”

Coming to a stop to look at you, he laughs to pretend like he didn’t just act like some crazy cat dad. “Uh, yeah I do.”

“Ddongy?” Hiding your smile, you pull out keys from your pocket. Dangling them with that same hopeful look on your face from before. “Can I please take you home to feed your cat?

Heeseung can feel his ears start to burn up, smoothing his hair down over them, he’s suddenly thankful that he’s been too lazy and busy to schedule a haircut. He can’t really turn you down again right? Then you’d really think that he has zero interest in getting to know you.

“Sure.” 

Sure this sounds like a good idea, until he walks outside with you and remembers to lock the store doors this time, turning around to see his lonesome car parked alone in the lot. He pretends to not notice and follows you, albeit still limping, he keeps up with your pace with a forced smile on his face. “You really don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.” You grin, jogging to open the passenger door for him. The smile on your face growing to a large one stretched from ear to ear. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll let me meet Ddongy.”

Heeseung lets his back melt into your cushy furry leopard seat covers. Darting his eyes all over, he counts the different Hello Kitty air fresheners you have. Takes a deep breath of how nice and floral your car smells. “So, where to?”

Rubbing his sweaty palms down the tops of his thighs, he starts listing out directions. Not living too far away from the store, you mention that he’s only a couple of streets away from you. “Guess we would have run into each other eventually.”

“Yeah, uhm, yeah maybe.” Trying to stay calm, he avoids eye contact when you park. “Well, thank you for driving me home.”

“Aw come on Heeseung! I wanna meet Ddongy!” You whine, making his chest shrivel from inside. 

“Right right, okay. He might be cranky because I’m late and he’s a little weird around strangers still..”

“Well I’m great with animals!” Skipping behind him, you follow him up the stairs to his apartment, each step shooting painful pangs up his leg. For once he feels grateful that he lives in such an old building and won’t have to take an awkward elevator ride with you. Humming and keeping his gaze focused on his feet to cover up his heavy breathing.

“Sorry if it’s a mess, I wasn’t expecting any guests.” Unlocking the front door, he can already hear Ddongy’s claws scratching down the wood floor as he runs akin to a bat out of hell down the hallway toward his owner. Releasing a cried meow, he paws at Heeseung’s legs before he can fully step out of his shoes. “I know buddy, I know. I’m late, again.” He sighs, reaching under Ddongy’s arms to scoop him up as he stands.

“Oh my Gosh! He’s precious!” You squeal, making grabby hands by your chin. Not wanting to startle his cat the way you got Heeseung earlier, you enter inside behind him, following his lead with removing your shoes. “He looks like Toothless!”

A smile pokes out his cheek dimples, rubbing one of his kittens ears flexing around on airplane mode when you speak. “Yeah, he kind of does.” Ddongy squirms in his arms, reminding him that he needs to eat, now. “Come on, I’ll let you give him a treat.”

Leading you to the kitchen, he sets Ddongy down to feed him. Taking out a few treats, he hands you 2 of them and nods for you to offer them to his cat. “He needs to get used to your scent.” Heeseung yawns, raising an eyebrow when Ddongy eats right out of your palm and rubs his cheeks against the back of your hand.

“Pffft…this cat.” 

“Aw he likes me.” The same smile you’ve had on the entire way home beams up at him. “Like father like son.”

Heeseung chokes on his spit, setting Ddongy’s food down before he lifts up to stretch his back, reaching for the cabinet above him for support. “You must be tired.” You say, scratching Ddongy’s back and tail before standing up. “It’s late, daddy needs to eat and sleep too.”

Again, he struggles to swallow his own spit, letting out an awkward laugh. He smooths his hair over his ears again. “Not trying to kick you out or anything, you’re welcome to stay.”

“Oh? Am I?” Tilting your head to one side, your smile turns more flirtatious with raised eyebrows. He has to look away, scratching at his chest. 

“God, I’m so rude, huh? Would you like anything to drink? Water? Soda?” He frets, rushing for the fridge to look inside of. Not that he has much to offer.

“That’s okay Heeseung. I’m pretty tired too.” As if on cue, you yawn, covering your mouth with a laugh. “Might stop by tomorrow for that new Mario Kart release.”

“Oh right right.” Shit. He’s going to have to wake up super early to get that display done before the store opens. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you wink, bending down to pet Ddongy rubbing his cheek against your leg. “He must really like me.”

Yeah. Heeseung thinks, fingers itching by his hips to stop you from leaving, unsure of what else he could even say if you were to stay. 

He must really like you.

“Night Heeseung, get some rest.” You wave, turning to leave his apartment. He follows after you, waving goodbye. Locking the door when you exit without watching you until you make it to the end of the hallway. That might be too weird, right? He doesn’t want to seem weird.

Then again, you showed up at his job after closing with a rare Charizard GX collector card.. which you likely spent hundreds of dollars on and then offered to him for free.

That’s not necessarily proof that you’re into him, but it definitely makes some convincing evidence if he really sits down to think about it. That and how you offered to patch up his bloody shin, getting down on your knees without a second thought before cleaning off his wound.

And then insisting on driving him home.. begging to meet his cat.. maybe he’s reading too into things.

A knock on his door pulls him from his delusions, peaking through the peephole before he unlocks it, fully expecting to see you again. His eyebrows raise as he opens the door and finds a bag of takeout waiting for him, the delivery guy already on his way back to his car.

‘Make sure you eat something else besides ramen sometimes boss.

-Jakey Jakey’

Heeseung smiles, shutting the door and making his way back to the kitchen. Other than thinking about sex, Jake does remember to be a caring friend sometimes.

———————————-

Nothing wakes you up quite like a ball of furry cat butt in your face. 

Heeseung groans, dragging his palms down Ddongy’s back. “Who needs an alarm when I have you, my son.”

And he’s thankful that Ddongy reminds him, whether he’s aware that he does or not, that he needs to head to the store earlier today. The pain shooting up his shin also reminds him that he needs to get going before the train leaves without him.

Making his way to work, he’s shocked to see Jake sitting out front with his face buried in a cup of coffee. “Hee, what took you so long man?”

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you off today?”

Jake jumps up, carrying an extra cup of hot coffee, now mostly lukewarm. “Why’s your car here?”

Heeseung thanks his friend for the coffee, appreciating the small amount of warmth running down his throat. Turning around to look at his car that’s been parked overnight, he smiles and presses the coffee to his lips. “I guess it’s a long story.”

Jake squints at him, raising a curious eyebrow. “We have time.”

It only takes an hour to fix up the display with his friend's help, much faster than he would have been able to alone with the way Jake bounces off the walls as he retells last night's events.

“Dude, she’s totally into you!!” He squeals, running up and down the aisle with his hands waving about. “I can’t believe this! Do you know how much she had to pay for that stupid Pokémon card?! Those things cost a fortune!”

Heeseung hasn’t really considered the fact that you spent money, your own money to get him a Charizard card that he fought a teenager for..

“You think she likes me?” 

“Dude, come on man!” Jake squeaks, grabbing onto his shoulders. “You cannot be this dense!” Snapping his fingers, he clutches onto the back of his neck, drawing the taller closer to himself. “I need you to listen to me, and I really mean listen to me.”

Heeseung nods, nervously gulping. “This girl, she’s hot. She’s really attractive man, like..” he bites down on his lip, shaking his head. “She’s so fucking sexy dude.”

Heeseung’s ears burn, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He’s listening, he is, he’s understanding everything his friend is saying, but accepting how attractive you are is only going to make all of this so much more difficult for him to believe. “Why would she like me?”

Jake sighs, dragging his hands down his shoulders to look him over. The greasy strands of hair hanging over his forehead, his dark eye bags, chapped lips, the same faded uniform shirt he’s worn everyday this week. “Give yourself credit, she likes something about you.”

She likes something about you.

That’s all Heeseung can think about for the rest of the day as he sorts through go backs, damages out returns, and responds to emails from different vendors and suppliers. You like something about him.

Maybe you like something about him..

He’s thankful that Jake decided to come in today, the extra help was more needed than he thought. And driving himself home felt like a huge relief after working all day. The extra long hot shower he took was even more necessary than he realized, making him question if he should really hire a couple of more employees.

Not that he can afford to.

After feeding Ddongy and making himself a proper meal(albeit with some of the leftovers from the food Jake got him) he sits down at his computer chair. Getting comfortable before logging on to find none of his friends online. “Oh.”

Shrugging, he cracks his knuckles and turns on a live stream anyway. Maybe they’ll show up eventually, or maybe they’re all busy, having actual lives to attend to..

League of Legends sounds like the perfect option to lose himself in tonight. His eyes burn as he stares at the screen and becomes engrossed in the game, not even noticing when a new user enters the stream. 

Lycanthropegoddess: ‘Hey!’

The sound of a new message startles him, glancing down, he squints as something peeking out from under his keyboard catches his attention and he pauses the game. 

Charizard beams back at him when he moves his keyboard aside and he can’t stop a smile from pushing the apples of his cheeks up. “Wow.”

Lycanthropegoddess: ‘Playing league tonight?’

The chat startles him again, glancing at the screen to see that a few of his online gaming friends have joined, along with a newcomer. “That’s a username I don’t recognize.”

He says out loud, reading it over quickly before leaning back to look at the card sliding between his fingers. 

Lycanthropegoddess: ‘What do you have there?’

Lifting the card up for his camera to focus on, he grins and chuckles. Shaking his head before throwing himself back into his gaming chair. “Chat, I can’t believe this.”

TheNextFaker420: ‘Is that a fucking Charizard GX?!’

“It is!” He laughs, setting the card down to stay up against his computer screen. “I—I met someone, I think.”

The few usernames he recognizes in the chat all type quickly, questioning what he’s stuttering about. “A girl.” He says, patting his cheeks that suddenly feel warm. “A girl came into work this week and—“

Hooning02: ‘Whatttt? You finally got some?’

“No no,” sinking into his chair, he plays with his bottom lip. Chewing on the plush skin as he thinks about your conversation from the previous night. “I don’t know what to do, she’s way out of my league..”

Hooning02: ‘Okay what’s new? Is she down to fuck or what?’

Lycanthropegoddess: ‘Do you like her?’

Heeseung reads the new messages that pop up, not fully focusing as he thinks about the way you blew on his cut and patched him up. “I like her. I really think I like her, a lot.” He finally admits, mostly to himself. Picking up the Charizard card, he gently traces at the character's photo, biting back a smile.

TheNextFaker420: ‘Well! Quit being a pussy dude! Ask her out.’

Lycanthropegoddess: ‘You should definitely ask her to hang out, maybe grab a coffee!! Girls love coffee.’

Hooning02: ‘Nah man, go straight for fucking. Dating is useless if she’s way too hot for you! She’ll just use you for a few good meals.’

Lycanthropegoddess: ‘No no! You’re cute, I am sure she would really love to get to know you better first!’

Heeseung drags his fingers through his freshly washed hair, stressed out by the differing amounts of advice popping up in the chat. “Worse that can happen is she says no?” He frowns, poking at the Charizard card.

You wouldn’t have just gifted him something like this for no reason? What are the chances that you’re actually just a really nice person? He has to ask him if people this nice still exist.

“Ask her out?” He questions, reading through the chat again.

Lycanthropegoddess: ‘What do the two of you have in common? Maybe you could invite her to do something you share an interest in! Does she play video games?’

“Actually, we have a few things in common..” he blinks slowly, as if realizing for the first time that you both enjoy cosplaying. At least to some extent. You definitely like video games, and you must have some type of knowledge about Pokémon. “She does play video games.”

Lycanthropegoddess: ‘That’s great! What about going to an arcade?’

Hooning02: ‘Don’t do it man, I’m telling you now that it’s going to be a waste of time.’

Heeseug checks the time, fighting back a yawn as he contemplates asking you to hang out, maybe for a date. Maybe as friends, friends go to an arcade..

“I’ll let you all know how it goes.” He nods, picking Ddongy up who has been pawing at his ankle for the last 5 minutes. “Have to work again tomorrow. I should really head to bed now.”

Lycanthropegoddess: ‘Take my advice mystic wiz! You’ll never know if you don’t give it a shot!’

———————————-

“Jungwon, I hate asking but I’m a bit short on rent this month.”

Heeseung doesn’t just hate asking his friend for money, he absolutely loathes it. He should be on top of all of the stores bills and finances, but here he is instead, asking a guy who meows on stream to lend him a thousand dollars.

“You still owe me from last month, Heeseungie.” He says, pinching one of the olders cheeks to add more humiliation to this situation. Jungwon’s dimples poke deep into his cheeks, making Heeseung wonder if he’d get more viewers with the help of such a cute and endearing feature. “Gonna have to start charging you with an interest rate.”

Heeseung grunts, sighing when the younger motions for him to do a little dance with some extra cuteness to convince him.

A humiliation ritual to earn his money. “Please, I wanna see some Geppetto moves here!” He giggles, propping his chin onto his palms as his superior dances like a fool for him. He’ll lend him the money of course, but getting to watch Heeseung jump around like a Leprechaun isn’t something he’s willing to pass up. “Alright alright, that was great. Now twerk a little.”

“Jungwon.” Heeseung says firmly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Alright alright hyung, I know. Times are tough, you know I’ll spot you.” He jeers, poking at the olders chest. “You’re just too cute when you get desperate. Oh and—“ glancing past Heeseung’s shoulder, he pats his chest, shoving him to turn around.

Really, your timing is impeccable. Always showing up when he’s at his lowest. At least the smile you’re forcing tells him that you feel somewhat bad for him, he hopes.

“Looks like we have a customer.” Jungwon chuckles from behind him, heading back to the register.

“You’re a pretty good dancer!” You obviously rush to say, trying to lessen the blow of embarrassment. Pursing his lips together, he clasps his hands and makes himself smile.

“What brings you in today?”

“The new Mario Kart, remember?”

Oh right, as if the scar forming on his leg wasn’t enough of a reminder. He walks with you over to the display, subtly checking out the sparkly gemstones on your bottoms that spell out ‘juicy’. Quickly darting his gaze away to not appear to be staring at your ass, he clears his throat. “You accidentally left the Charizard card at my desk by the way..”

“Wasn’t an accident.” You state confidently. Leaning against the new display with a copy of Mario Kart in hand. “By the way, did you read my thank you note?”

“Oh.” Clearing his throat, he tries to ignore the flush of heat rising up his cheeks. Leaning opposite of you on the display as well to see cool and calm. “Yeah, I did, uh.”

Think fast Heeseung. Don’t fuck this up.

“Actually, this weekend I am meeting up with one of my friends.” He informs, beginning to speak animatedly with his hands. “He needs help making a staff before we go back out to Eagle Stone next month.”

“What’s Eagle Stone?”

“Oh, it’s that place in the next town over I was telling you about before. Some of us who do live action roleplay meet out there once a month to update the game—“

“You mean larping, right?” You smirk, the sparkly lipgloss you have on really popping. Heeseung nervously licks his lips, reaching up to smooth his hair down onto his ears. 

“The drawing of your design, for your druid—“

“Druidess.” You correct, twirling your hair around one of your jewelry adorned fingers.

“Yes yes, uhm, your bow and arrow. If you want to come with us, I can help you with building it?” He suggests cautiously, preparing himself for your rejection.

“This weekend? You, me, and a friend of yours?” Tilting your head to one side curiously, your lips pout. “Where exactly are you going?”

“It’s this woodwork shop on the other side of town, not too far from here.” 

“Did you want to get coffee before?” Raising an eyebrow, you lean in closer. “Or like, after?”

Heeseung shrugs, shaking his head. “I don’t think so, I have to swing by to pick up Gyu first, and then I’m going to help him with his costume—“

“Oh okay,” you sigh, hiding the disappointment in your voice with a small smile. “Sounds cool, I’m free. Wanna text me the address?”

Holding your phone out for him, you motion for him to add his number to your contacts. Heeseung nods, smearing his palms down the front of his shirt before shakily typing in his number and shooting himself a text. The buzz in his pocket shivers up to his spine, switching on a lightbulb in his head.

He has your phone number now. This is progress.

“I’ll see you this weekend then, Heeseung. Maybe I’ll get lucky enough to see more of your moves.” You wink, standing up straight to head to the register and make a purchase. The reason you came in today, allegedly.

Breathily laughing, he imagines himself melting into a pool of goo for you to stomp through and splash around the walls. Using his mortification as paint for everyone to know how badly he could simply die right now. Not to be dramatic.

“I’ll text you the address.” He coughs, rubbing one of his cheeks on his shoulder in attempt to brush away his blush.

“I’ll be waiting.”

———————————-

“Why would you invite a girl?” Beomgyu huffs, arms crossed together tightly over his chest where he sits to Heeseung’s side.  

Reaching over to check his friend's seatbelt before he heads off, he groans, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. “She plays.”

“So what, you know I don’t do well with new people.”

Heeseung sighs, driving down to the freeway to get them across town to the craft store they frequent. He has some good coupons to put to use today to start working on a new cape and hat design. “She’s really easy to get along with, easy to talk to. I swear.”

“Whatever.” Beomgyu pouts, wrinkling between his eyebrows. Shifting his body away, he glares outside of the window and ices Heeseung out the entire drive over. Typical, he hates when plans change without at least a week’s notice. 

Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Heeseung wonders what the hell he’s doing. You really seemed so excited over text, and kept mentioning different places to eat in the area that you’ve been wanting to try. He knows Beomgyu wouldn’t want to waste their day at some restaurant, especially with all of his allergies. He’s super cautious of trying out new places. 

As much as he’d love to spend more of this day with you, he already had to cancel on Gyu last weekend because Jake wouldn’t cover his shift. He can’t stop himself from thinking that he’s dropping the ball, not that he’s even sure he has it in his hands yet.

“We’re here.” He announces, setting the car into park. “Come on dude, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Truce?”

Beomgyu grumbles, sticking his pinky out for them to settle this little spat with the secret handshake they’ve been doing since they were kids. “Fine fine. She better be cool.”

Heeseung wants to assure him that you are, you’re very cool. Licking over his lips nervously he gets out of the car and immediately hones in on you leaning against a sleek all black jeep. A different car than the one you drove him home in. Also shinier and newer than the piece of junk he’s been driving ever since his parents gifted him a car for his 16th Birthday.

“Hey!” He says much too excitedly, clearing his throat. “I mean, glad you made it.”

Beomgyu lightly shoves into his side, maintaining the stance of his arms crossed to express his annoyance. “This is Gyu.” Laughing nervously he introduces the two of you. Quickly suggesting you both head into the store when Beomgyu doesn’t reciprocate your greeting.

“This is really cool, I didn’t want to head inside without you but I was searching around online.” You share, sticking to his side that Beomgyu isn’t occupying. “Haven’t done any really thought out crafting projects in a while.”

Heeseung motions for you to follow him over to the part of the store used to host classes. He’s been to a few with his friends before to learn more when it comes to building and crafting. Only, he was less interested in utilizing this new skill for furniture assimilation and more for making tools from scratch that could be useful during battle. He did also build a cat tower for Ddongy.

“Did you bring any sketches?” He asks, setting down the backpack he brought along.

“Yeah I did!” Beomgyu scoffs under his breath as you dig into your bag for a small sketchbook. Forcing an unimpressed frown when you open up the designs you’ve come up with for a bow and arrow.

“These are great!” Heeseung drags his finger over the sketches. Nodding and smiling big before snapping his fingers. “You want it to be fully functional?”

“Well, ideally yes.”

“Alright.” He hums, pinching his chin as the wheels in his head begin to spin. “Green wood is pretty flexible, will make your bow harder to break. But for shooting, if you’re really looking for speed, it’s not the best. You’d want properly dried wood for a real fast shooting bow.” Searching for a pen in his bag, he scribbles down a few notes on a blank page in your sketchbook.

“Wow, you really know what you’re talking about..” you breathily laugh. Raising his eyebrows to look at you, he gulps. The same rush of heat he felt at the store returns when he stares at your teeth digging into your plump bottom lip. Pursing his lips together to smile, he hopes his cheeks aren’t reflecting how hot they feel.

Hiding his nerves with a cough, he softly laughs. “Hah yeah..”

“Ugh.” Beomgyu groans, rolling his eyes. “I need a dried down wood for my staff. I don’t want anything flexible.” He huffs, nose scrunched.

“Gyu’s a warlock.” Heeseung informs, rubbing at his nape. “We’re making him one with a dragon on top because he’s kind of like Lord of the Rings obsessed. 

“It’s not a dragon, Heeseung!” Beomgyu exclaims, whipping out his phone to enlarge a photo. “It’s Sauron’s helmet!”

“Yeah but it looks like a dragon.” Heeseung mumbles.

“That’s soo cool. Oh my God, I bet it’s going to turn out awesome!” You compliment, turning the pages in your sketchbook. “I’m a druidess, wolf hybrid.”

Beomgyu frowns, refusing to admit that your sketches are really good. Even if he wants to ask you for tips and advice. “You know, a female druid.” You continue, snapping his round eyes to look at you.

“I know what a druidess is!” He grouches. “I wasn’t born yesterday!” Turning away, he stomps down through the closest aisle. Pretending to look at the different nail sizes, as if he knows the differences between any of them.

“Sorry about him, he can be a little—“

“It’s okay, I get it.” You nod, setting your sketchbook down again. “So, green wood? Is that what you were saying?”

Heeseung tries to ignore how your gaze continues to focus on him as he explains that you’ll need to debark and smooth down the wood to avoid getting splinters. Offering to measure everything for you to ensure the bow and arrow are a good size for your frame, he regrets his decision when you move to stand in front of him and arch forward with your chest perked out. “Like this?”

Moving his gaze away at lightning speed, he nervously laughs. Digging around to find his measuring tape, he moves behind you. “Actually, you should be in your shooting stance for the best configurations..”

“Oh, like this?” Posing as if you actually have a bow and arrow in your hold, you slightly bend at your knees. Turning your face to the side to peer at him from over your shoulder. Heeseung wishes he could pretend that his cheeks aren’t on absolute fire right now, darting his eyes to look at the floor, he nods. 

“Good form.”

“Thanks, I’m probably rusty.” You wink, flicking your hair away from your shoulder as you twist your neck to watch him measure the length of your back. Being careful to not actually touch you, he hovers above your shoulders to check the width. 

“You’re a bit small.” He notes, jotting down your inches.

“Is that a problem?” You ask, pouting.

Heeseung steps around, eyes going wide as he looks at your face. Slowly dragging his gaze lower to inspect just how small you are, much smaller than him. He could probably easily pick you up..

“Why would that be a problem?” Maybe he’s too much of a nitwit to fully grasp the smirk playing at your lips. And maybe he should actually listen to his friends instead of tuning them out when they try to help him understand how he could flirt better. “Must be fun, you could get tossed around in battle. Your body is the weapon.”

Biting down a smile, you raise an eyebrow as he begins to measure your arms. “Well I know wizards aren’t really useful in battle, imagine what a team we could be? Especially because you’re so strong and big.”

Heeseung dry swallows, stilling his hand before he starts to fan himself. “Me? Strong? Hah. Hardly.”

“Oh come on,” poking at his bicep, you slowly drag your finger down to his forearm. “Who needs to lift weights when you game all day?”

“Uh. I really only game at night.” Following your touch trailing down to his hand, he feels a shiver roll up his spine. Clenching his teeth as you step in closer until your chest is brushing against his. 

“We could practice.”

“Practice?” His eyebrows furrow, worried gaze finding yours of amusement. “Practice what?”

“You tossing me around.” Breathily laughing, you wrap around his wrist, lifting your hands up. “You kind of have big hands, bet they’d look huge holding on to me.”

“W-what?” He stutters, licking his lips. Fingers flexing as you set his palm against the center of your stomach and push for him to press against you.

“Wow. You really are big.”

What the hell is happening right now?! Are you still talking about teaming up to battle on the field?! Heeseung’s mouth feels even more dry now, as if he’ll breath out dust if he opens it. Giving himself a minute to think, he repeats your question. “Is that a problem?”

The smirk on your face grows into a smile. Glancing at his palm still flat against your stomach. “I like when it hurts.”

“Battle?!”

“Heeseung, I haven’t got all day!” Beomgyu returns to find you both still fucking around. Grunting and dropping the basket of items he’s acquired to kill time, he grabs onto the tallers shoulders and successfully manages to yank him away from you, thanks to his extra wobbly knees. “You know that I have to get home to give Jarvis his medication!”

Right. Jarvis. Beomgyu’s pet gerbil with high anxiety that he drops a ridiculous amount of money on to keep him calm with overpriced prescription meds. “Right, sorry Gyu.”

Flickering his gaze back and forth between your look of disappointment and his friends angrily furrowed eyebrows, he sighs. “I can make the bow for you, with these measurements. Might take me a few days ‘cause of work.”

“You don’t have to, Heeseung.”

“No no, I want to.” He nods eagerly, grabbing your sketchbook. “Can I borrow this? Just for reference.”

“Of course.” Smiling at him, you squeeze his arm. “That’s really nice of you. Don’t worry about the cost, I can cover it.”

Remembering the coupons in his pocket, he tells himself to find the best deals for supplies to make you the best bow and arrow. It takes another hour of Beomgyu glaring at the two of you rambling about different video games you both play, explaining all the different charms on your purse, how you already hate your new apartment because your neighbors are sooo rude and loud. 

Heeseung squints a bit when you mention your complex's name, swearing to himself that that’s a really expensive area only really wealthy people can afford to live in. Jungwon did say you don’t live too far from the store.. but for some reason he hadn’t assumed that meant you lived next to the Equinox and absurdly inflated grocery store next door to it ripping people off and selling twenty dollar smoothies.

Judging by the frustrated and annoyed sounds his friend continuously mutters as you walk through the store, he’s sure Beomgyu wouldn’t agree that you’re easy to talk to. Not that he has spoken to you much, leaving the conversation for only the two of you. Whether or not Gyu agrees, Heeseung can’t deny how his cheeks ache from smiling so much. Even reaching up to rub at them after laughing when you grab a hot glue gun because you need to fix a drawer set that keeps coming apart.

“You can’t use a hot glue gun for that!” Setting it back down, he counts over everything that he’s grabbed for his wizard hat and your bow and arrow. “I can help you build it, if you want.”

“Really?” You smile, clasping your hands together. “You wanna come over?”

“Ah, I can’t today, but maybe later this week?”

Agreeing on setting up another day for him to bring his box of tools over to repair the different boxes of furniture you’ve yet to properly set up, he has no time to let it sink in that he’ll have to be inside of your home. Too distracted by Beomgyu’s little comments and bickering, he decides it’s best to wrap up this shopping venture. 

“I’ll text you with updates.” He walks with you back to your car, holding up the large bag of items you purchased. “Progress photos and stuff.” 

“Great! I’ll see you soon then?” You ask hopefully, waiting for his answer with your driver door open. 

“Definitely sooner than later.” He agrees with a nod, waving you off before packing away the things you both bought into his backseat.

“Didn’t tell me you were inviting your girlfriend.” Beomgyu grumbles as he starts the car.

“What??”

“Not telling me that you’re dating someone is probably more annoying than springing a last minute change of plans, you know.”

“I-I’m not dating her.” He chuckles, eyeing his blushed cheeks in the rearview mirror. Damnit.

“Oh yeah? Then what the hell was that? Because it looked like a date to me, and I was the third wheel!” Scoffing, he lightly shoves Heeseung’s shoulder. “Where did you even find her?”

“I’m not dating anyone Gyu, swear. I would tell you!”

“Does Jake know?” He squints questioningly. Hinting at their rivalry, the two most opposite people he could ever come to know, both being his best friends.

“She comes into the store, that’s how we met.” He clarifies, getting onto the freeway.

“Pft, so he does know.”

“Not technically, we aren’t dating.”

———————————-

Lord Farquaad: ‘Change of plans. We are dating. I think.’

Heeseung grimaces when he sees the username his best friend has him saved under pop up on the screen. Huffing and rolling his eyes.

‘And change that username!! I do not look like fucking Lord Farquaad!!’

DewtheGyu: ‘What the fuck do you mean that you’re dating?! Ugh!’ Quickly rushing to log off from his stream. He calls up Heeseung on discord, immediately met with panic on his face.

“Gyu, it’s—“

“You were lying to me!”

“I wasn’t!! Okay?! I got on live and was talking about everything that happened today and one thing led to another!” Heeseung grabs at chunks of his hair. Pulling tendrils between his fingers with wrinkles lining his forehead. “One of my viewers was really encouraging me to ask her out. So I texted her! And she actually said yes!”

“One of you viewers?!” Beomgyu scoffs. “Who?! Jake?!”

“No no, it’s a new viewer, they’ve been really nice.” Squinting at his closed stream chat, he reads off the username. “Lycanthrope goddess, something like that. I didn’t actually think she’d say yes..”

Beomgyu grunts, glaring at his webcam. “Well! What exactly happened!”

“I texted her, asking if she has plans tomorrow night.” Heeseung recounts, opening his phone to your messages. “And she said she doesn’t.. so I asked if she’d maybe wanna check out that Round One bowling arcade place at the mall after I’m off from work, of course.”

“Ugh, I love Round One.”

“Yeah, me too.” Heeseung nods, smoothing his messy hair. “She—she said yes, that she’d love to go with me.”

“That’s—that’s really good?” Beomgyu mutters, leaning forward with his chin resting on the backs of his hands. “And you really are telling me before Jake?”

“Yes!” Heeseung squeaks, rolling his eyes. “Dude I haven’t been on a date in so long. I don’t know what to do!”

Beomgyu nods, inspecting his friends hunched over defeated position on his computer screen. “I’m coming over, this calls for a makeover.”

“A what?!”

“I dunno, they do it in movies and it always works. As your best friend, I’m going to set you up for success Hee.”

———————————-

Whistles greet him as he arrives to work the next day. Feeling more confident than usual, he walks in with a cup of coffee, managing to keep this one intact and not spilled all over a sidewalk and his jeans.

“Who the hell killed Heeseung?” Jake jeers, stepping out from behind the register to get a good look at him. “And who is this?”  

Jungwon blinks over and over again, checking him out from head to toe. “What the hell? What’s that smell?”

Heeseung sniffs the air around himself, sipping his warm coffee. “Used an Amber body wash this morning, I don’t know..”

“You showered? Before work?” Jake raises an eyebrow, circling around him with his arms crossed over his chest. “And you cut your hair, those are new shoes, wore all of your ear piercings too.”

“Is that eyeliner?” Jungwon gets up close to his face, hiking up on his tiptoes. “What the—“

“I have a date.” He says with a small smile, furrowing his eyebrows. “I think.”

“You think?!” Jake dusts him off, whistling again. “You sly dog, please tell me it’s with that hottie that keeps coming in here to flirt with you.”

“She’s not flirting with me.” He rubs at his nape nervously, carrying around the Charizard card you haggled to get him in his pocket. Burning a hole through the material of his pants where it’s pressed to his thigh, in a sturdy card holder, of course. “But yes, I—I asked her out.”

“You asked her out first?” Jake guffaws, smirking. “Now I’m even more impressed.”

“And she said yes?” Jungwon squints, sliding the tip of his finger across the row of hoop earrings lining his earlobe. “You have to make the first move, alright?”

“That’s uhm, kind of what I was hoping we could talk about.” Clearing his throat, he straightens his back out. Rolling his shoulders to appear confident. “It’s been a good while since I’ve gone on a date and I don’t want to blow this.”

Jake hums, pointing at Jungwon and snapping his fingers. “Roleplaying, you’ll be the girl.”

“Ugh! Why do I always have to be the girl?!”

“Because you get on live and rub your nipples for horny fangirls who send you money.” Jake sneers, motioning for them to follow him over to the register. “Heeseung, think about it this way, you already roleplay all of the time. You just have to pretend you’re.. not yourself.”

“But, why would I do that?” He questions, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Am I not good enough?”

“Not really.” Jungwon adds, frowning. “I mean, she’s really hot, and you need to get laid dude.”

As expected, Beomgyu was great at fixing his hair, choosing a well put together outfit that wouldn’t take him too far out of his comfort zone. Helping him pick out what jewelry to adorn his ears with, and even encouraging him to wear a little makeup to cover his blemishes and enhance his most attractive feature.

‘Eyes, girls love eyes. Especially big giant simpy Bambi eyes like yours.’ That’s what he said when Heeseung complained and poked himself with a kohl pencil for the third time this morning while they facetimed and his best friend gave him the last approval on his look.

Jake and Jungwon would be the ones to cover everything else. From the way he greets you, how he walks, when to grab the door for you, what he should pay attention to and how he should ease into flirtation. They spent the rest of the day between assisting customers testing out different scenarios.

What if she wants to eat? What if she’s better at gaming than you? What if she compliments you? 

What to do when you start dropping hints, and maybe even invite him over to your place after.

“D-do you really think she’d do that? Isn’t it too soon for a nightcap?” He asks nervously, tugging at the collar of his oversized hoodie.

“Good God man,” Jake sighs, clasping his shoulders. “Whatever you do, don’t ever call a girl inviting you to her place a nightcap, please.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be the worst idea. Gyu said he’d come over to feed and watch Ddongy for a bit while I’m out..”

“I could have done that too.” Jake mumbles, brushing it off quickly when Heeseung reminds him that he’ll need to close the store today since he’s heading out a little earlier than usual. 

“Listen, you already made it this far, Heeseung.” Jungwon interrupts them, shooting him a thumbs up. “If she’s into you enough to do some loser shit like go to a mall arcade, then I think you’re solid. Just try to stay cool.”

He grumbles, checking his phone to reply to your texts letting him know you’re ready whenever he is. “Do I look okay?”

“You look great buddy,” Jake smiles, a proud gleam in his eye. “Better than ever. Remember that confidence is key!”

Right. Confidence. Because that’s something that just sprouts up overnight. Replaying all of the advice and tips his friends gave him today, he drives a few blocks down from the store toward your place. The nice rich side of town, making his anxiety rise higher as he enters your street and his jaw drops as he parks at your apartment building. 

A brand new complex with condominium’s starting at prices light years out of his range. You must really make a good amount from streaming, or maybe your parents are rich. Maybe that’s something you can discuss over a basket of fries and onion rings.

No. No onion rings, that could make his breath smell bad. Right right, Jake said to avoid smelly foods. Fries should be fine, even as his tummy rumbles and he slowly walks down the hallway on the first floor as you directed him through text messages, stopping at your front door with a cat shaped welcome mat, winking at him teasingly.

Wait. That’s not a Goddamn cat, that’s Hello Kitty winking at him. You have a Hello Kitty welcome mat, cute.

“You made it!” The door flies open without him even having to knock. He had texted you after parking to let you know that he’d arrived, but getting too distracted by Hello Kitty winking at him, he nervously chuckles, hoping the cologne Beomgyu let him borrow doesn’t make your nose turn up in disgust. “Oh..”

“What? What is it?” He asks in a rush of panic, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder. He subtly tries to steal a deep breath.

“You just..” taking a small step back, you grab onto the door handle. A smile slowly spreads across your face. “You look really good.”

“Oh, well.” Squeezing his eyes shut for a second too long, he snaps them back open to take in what you’ve decided to wear for this date he still isn’t 100% is an actual date. “Wow.”

“Wow?” Smiling larger, you shove at his chest. “Is that a compliment?”

“No no! I uh, you also look great! In fact, you look,” he swallows, gaze flickering back to your face. “Pretty.”

“You know,” locking the door behind you, you adjust the strap of your purse digging into your shoulder. “It’s nice to see you outside of your work uniform. I could get used to this.”

Heeseung can feel his cheeks heating up, now grateful for the cushion compact Beomgyu insisted he borrow. He motions to head down the hallway toward his car, digging his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie for something to do with them. “It’s a rare sight.”

“You work a lot, don’t you?” 

Before he can answer you, he nearly trips over his own feet to get ahead of you. Rushing to open the passenger seat door for you. Jungwon suggested that it’d be a nice touch to show off what a gentleman he is. “Nice car.” You playfully smile, getting inside and grabbing the seatbelt before he can. Not that he had planned to help you put it on, but he definitely thought about it..

Running over to the driver side, he hops in. Biting down on his lip as he revs up the engine and the sound of guitar emits from his speakers. Slamming the power off before vocals can come through, he laughs under his breath and starts to pull out.

“Oh come on! We’re not seriously about to sit in silence this whole drive? I don’t live that close to the mall.” You tease, thankfully sounding completely unserious as you reach to turn his music back on.

Why did he have to be blasting the nerdiest band of all time?! His fucking Lord of the Rings power metal music of all things? Couldn’t he have just found some basic top 40 crap to leave humming at a low volume? No, of course not, he had to keep himself calm with aggressive melodic guitar.

“Oh my God, is this Blind Guardian??” You ask, turning the dial up higher.

Heeseung’s eyes could pop out of their sockets, focusing on the road to prevent that from happening, he grips onto the steering wheel. “You listen to Blind Guardian?!”

“Gosh, I haven’t in years!” Leaning back, you start to sing along. “Valhalla! Deliverance! Why you’ve ever forgotten me? Woahhhhhh! Valhalla!”

There’s no way. No way in this fucking universe that the girl he’s taking out on a date, maybe a date, is seriously belting out one of his favorite songs while sitting in the passenger seat of his dingy car. To add onto it, you’re air drumming, tossing your hair from side to side as you shake your head along to the music. “Can’t believe you tried to turn off Guardian! We have to start it from the beginning, I missed my favorite part!”

Heeseung gulps as you hit rewind, taking a deep breath to look over at you drumming your fingers playing what can only be described as condemnable air guitar. His friend Jay would throw you in jail if he ever saw this.

“You listening to Guardian makes a lot of sense.” You laugh, smiling at him. “So many centuries! So many Gods! We were the prisoners of our own fantasies, but now we are marching against these Gods!” Pointing at him to take the next line, he hears Jake repeating confidence to him all day in the back of his mind.

“I’m the wizard! I will change it all!”

Heeseung can feel his cheeks burning from smiling before he realizes it, drumming on the steering wheel as he breaks into the chorus with you. “Ohhhhh-ohhh! Valhalla!”

The rest of the drive goes smoother than he could have ever expected as you reminisce about all of the bands you used to heavily listen to. “God I really do need to start digging up my old playlists again. Forgot how amazing Blind Guardian is.”

“They’re probably one of my favorite bands.” He admits, feeling much more comfortable after shouting along to Mirror Mirror with you for the last five minutes until his throat started to feel hoarse. 

“We need to go see them live together.” You state, continuing to bob your head along to the music.

That’d be amazing, perfect even. Not he’s ready to admit that. Opting to nod as he enters the mall’s parking lot and makes his way to the closests entrance that gets you to Round One. He would know, having spent many weekends here with his friends losing out on any of his extra coins from reselling his old games and memorabilia, and having to pay for rounds of pizza and beer.

“We’re here.” He announces, removing his seatbelt.

“Great! I’m so ready to kick your ass at Mortal Kombat!”

Heeseung laughs, not actually believing it when you wrap around his wrist and lead him straight to the Mortal Kombat arcade machine, shoving coins in to play before he can stop you. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“As a heart attack baby.”

Too busy blushing over the term of endearment you randomly just threw out, he misses how you grab onto his control stick and choose Scorpion for him to play as. “About to kick your sweet little ass worse than Riwoo did.”

“Hey!” He frowns, shooing your hand off. He would have at least chosen Liu Kang! Especially since you went with Sub-Zero!

“Oh come on, Liu Kang is so played out. Scorpion vs Sub-Zero is classic.” You point out, showing off a more aggressive side that shocks him for a moment before locking himself back in. Get your head in the game.

Not that it matters after three consecutive rounds of you(Sub-Zero) beating his ass to a pulp. His shoulders full on slump as another ‘Finish him!’ Sounds from the speakers and a group of high school boys playing air hockey nearby snicker and laugh. “Alright, I think I have to accept defeat. You are the true Mortal Kombat master.” 

“I know that’s right.” Proudly raising your arms in the air, you start to cheer for yourself. Gasping and going wide-eyed as you turn. “Oh my God!”

“What? What happened?” He looks around worriedly, following your line of sight to the brightly lit up claw machines.

“It’s a freaking labubu claw machine!!” You jump up and down, once again grabbing his wrist and tugging him to the other side of the arcade. Heeseung’s neck snaps, looking around in confusion. 

“What is a…la boo boo?”

“Labubu!” You shriek, bringing him over to a machine full of the ugliest little gremlins he’s ever seen. “They’re these monsters, I’m obsessed with them!” Running your fingers over the machine’s glass window, you let out cute little sounds the same way Heeseung does when Ddongy rolls over to show him his belly. “I love them so much! Ohmygod I’ve never seen one of these before! And they always sell out so fast! I never have time to buy any new drops! Ahh I need them all!”

He digs into his pocket, ready to pay however much it will take to grant you that wish. Looking down, he nearly swallows his tonsils. “Thirty bucks to play?!”

“That’s not that bad,” you mumble, already digging into your purse. “Labubu’s are really high in demand right now!”

He can’t say he’s the best at claw machines, but he definitely managed to win a Pickachu plushie once in the past. Mewling over his odds, he starts to strategize, counting all the different ugly little toys inside of the machine. “How many do you want?”

“As many as I can get.” You state, not even bothering to wait before shoving in three $10 bills and manning the claw. “Ideally all of them.”

Ah, he really needs to pay attention. Jake told him paying attention would be extra important. He should be the one trying to win you one of these booboo things right now. “All of them..” he trails off counting how many of them there are. At least 25 different plushies stare back at him with their buggy eyes and weird round teeth, shivering as they taunt him and your claw fails to grab any.

30 times 25.. that’s at least $800 and it’s nearing the end of the month. Rent’s due next week for the store and his apartment, his phone bill, garbage and water, electricity..

He can do one round, using the other $40 in his pocket to buy you some food and maybe rent bowling shoes so you can play and he can at least try to impress you with his athleticism. Not that he has any.

“Aw man!” Readying yourself to waste another $30, Heeseung taps your forearm, gently nudging you aside. 

“I’ll try.”

“You don’t have to!”

“I want to.” He nods, rolling his shoulders before paying. “That furry pink one in the middle that’s looking at me like it’s going to meet in my dreams and bite my head off, kind of matches your outfit.”

“It’s really cute.” You clap, cheering him on as he begins to maneuver the claw around and gets it to the middle. Pacing his breathing, he slowly draws it down right above the ugly pink thing, meticulously moving it open right as he gets close enough. The air goes still around him, hearing the sound of you taking one long deep breath to hold as the claw clamps around its head and fails to lift the plushie from the machine.

Heeseung can’t believe it, $60 between the two of you gone in less than 10 minutes. The claw retracts and sits back in its original spot. Dropping his forehead on the glass you’d just been tapping in shock, he tenses and glares at the toys continuing to smile and mock him. Loser.

“Ahh.. that was so close,” you lament, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s okay Hee, thank you for trying!”

Stupid little ugly toy. Why couldn’t you just stay put! He wishes he could shout, clenching his fists and pulling himself away from the machine, he apologizes. “I can try again..”

“No no, it’s okay! I’m kind of hungry.” You obviously lie, glancing at the machine sorrowfully. He sighs and waves for you to follow him over to the concession stand. 

Fries. Stick to fries. They don’t get caught in your teeth, hardly leave any smell behind, and you won’t look like a gross slob eating them. Jungwon’s advice.

And that seems simple enough until you ask for corn dogs, extra ketchup, two large sodas, and cotton candy. Heeseung’s more than happy to pay for everything, it’s not about that, but now he’s worried about each bite he takes, dabbing his lips constantly to make sure he hasn’t smeared ketchup and ranch around his mouth.

“This has been really fun.” You start to say after scarfing down a couple of bites of food. Adorably, puffing your cheeks out as you chew and ketchup stains your lips, he knows it wouldn’t reflect the same on him. “Most of my friends live kind of far away now, so I’ve been a little scared to explore around by myself.”

“Can I ask why you moved out here? Just because it’s a little boring..” he says shyly, cleaning off his hands and pushing the rest of his corn dog aside to nurse the straw of his drink between his lips. 

“Well,” you shrug, laughing. “Unironically, my last relationship ended sort of badly. It’s a long story but, I kind of wanted a fresh start, away from him and all the crap that came along with him.”

“Oh..”

“Yeah, I know. Boring, typical story. Girl running away from her past.” You sigh, picking at the bubblegum flavored cotton candy you chose.

“Nothing wrong with that.” He shrugs, chewing on his bottom lip. “Probably not looking to jump into anything too soon..”

Pressing the wet sugary specks of dissolved cotton candy between two of your fingers, you slowly lift your gaze to his. “I think that depends more on meeting the right person.”

“Yeah, no, definitely.” He agrees, stealing a chunk of fluffy cotton candy to stuff his mouth with and stop himself from uttering something stupid he won’t be able to backtrack from.

“You got a little—“ dragging your thumb from the corner of his mouth to the plushy middle of his wet bottom lip, you softly press down. “A little of it on your cheek.”

And yet somehow, you completely avoided touching his cheek as you sweep across his bottom lip to the other end. Drawing your thumb over to your mouth to lick clean.

Heeseung mentally curses, eyes fluttering shut. “Wanna bowl?”

“Love to!”

Luckily for him, he does manage to win a few rounds. Exhausting yourselves with laughter as you throw the bowling ball into other lanes and miss every pin one too many times. You fall down to sit next to him, wiping at the tears collecting at the corners of your eyes. “Ah, should probably head out soon. Work early in the morning.” He mutters, trying to mask his sadness with a tight-lipped smile.

“Nah, it’s getting pretty late. Totally understand, besides, I’m sure Ddongy is missing his daddy a lot right now.” You wink, racing him out to his car before he can grab the passenger door for you.

“Ddongy’s a big boy now, he can handle a few hours alone.” He assures you, lowering the volume of his music to make it easier to chat as he drives you home. Catching a glimpse of himself in the driver’s mirror, he cringes at the hint of blush spread on his cheeks. At least it’s dark enough outside now to hopefully diminish his flushed face.

“I’ll walk you.” He says, parking and rushing out to fully open your door before you manage to step out. Once again tucking his hands inside of the front pocket of his hoodie, he slowly follows the path down to your condo at the end of the hall. Noting that this place has a full luxury sized pool, and enormous well-equipped gym. He never did get around to asking you about how successful your online streams are.

“This is me.” You say, leaning against your front door. Smiling from ear to ear as you peer up at him. “Thank you again, for tonight. I really had a good time.”

“Was a lot of fun.” He beams, tugging at his fingers inside of his pocket. “Coming by the store any time soon?”

“Heeseung.”

Dragging his gaze from the platform sneakers you have on to the fuzzy cozy sweat hanging from your shoulders, he blinks a few times at the necklace pendant sitting nicely between your collarbone. Dry swallowing as he cracks his knuckles and his eyes meet yours. The same sensation of nausea he’s been battling since last week hits him, sweat trickling down his spine, and before he can inhale a deep breath, you push off the door and cover his lips with yours.

The instant feeling of floating off of his feet would make him believe that he’s dreaming. Melting against your soft mouth that perfectly slots between the seam of his lips. Lightly sucking at the soft fleshy meat that fills his bottom lip. You’re more controlling over the kiss than he can manage to be, drawing his hands free to hold them out by your sides, his fingers clench. Unsure if he should grab you, touch you, if he’s allowed to place his hands on your body.

It’s your figure that presses up against his first, smoothing your hands over his forearms, you wrap them around your waist. Pushing up onto your toes to deepen the kiss. He snaps out of his lucid state, eyelashes fluttering as his eyebrows furrow together and he lays his palms on your waist. Dropping his neck in closer to really press his lips against yours.

The first time he ever kissed a girl was during preschool, at the top of a slide. He sat down by her side and she planted a wet smooch on his cheek before giggling and gliding down to run away and tell her group of friends. He sat in shock for a few minutes touching over his face. He wouldn’t feel another kiss until middle school, spin the bottle, and then high school, at the skatepark. Parties he wasn’t invited to in the first place, meaningless lips that pressed against his and never held anything worth remembering.

But this kiss with you has his heart palpitating, fingers shaking where they rest on your waist. He wants to remember everything about this. How your lips eagerly continue to rub against his even as you gasp for air, and how the sweet scent of whatever body wash you used still wafts around him even after hours of wear. 

He wants to remember all of this. 

So much so that he’s retracing everything, your gaze, the taste of your lipgloss, how your lips slot against his so seamlessly.

“Night night.”

Snapping out of his daze, his eyes flutter open, going wide as he finds you backing up against the open door to head inside. He must look like a fish out of water, blubbering to speak with his shiny lips, glittering with the residue of your overpriced lip gloss.

“Goodnight..” he whispers, reaching up to graze his bottom lip. The disbelief of what just happened not moving fast enough for him to hide his shock.

“I’ll see you soon.” You whisper back with the most elated smile. Barely waving before stepping inside and shutting the door. Leaving him to slump against the nearest wall and let out the biggest sigh.

There’s no way that just happened.

But it did, you kissed him. You went on a date with him..

You like him.

———————————-

Cats must really have some type of telepathic power.

Ddongy gently presses a paw to Heeseung’s cheek, much later than he typically would. Allowing for his owner, cat daddy, to actually sleep until his alarm goes off. Squinting his eyes open, he can’t stop a huge smile from spreading across his face. Scooping Ddongy up in his arms to feed him, he buries his face into his shoulder, already feeling a rush of heat itch at his ears. 

All night he dreamt of the different dates he wants to take you on. How he really needs to crack down and finish your bow soon. The pictures you could get together at Eagle Stone. Maybe he could even take you to one of his favorite manga cafes.. although, it’d be so hard to not slurp a cup of ramen around you.

“Ddongy, you seem as happy as I am.” He laughs, squatting down to scratch the kitten's head. “Wait until the guys hear about this.”

Making himself a cup of coffee for work, he gets ready, taking extra time to smile and lightly bang his forehead against something every time he thinks about your kiss. 

The last time he felt this way.. was probably the first time he ever played League of Legends. Or maybe when he saw Faker from a distance one time at a convention.

No, no, this is even better.

This is what real magic must feel like. As lame as he knows that would be to say out loud, he can’t stop belting out and singing along to his Blind Guardian playlist. Imagining you failing at air guitar by his side as he heads to work.

He can’t wait to tell Jake and Jungwon everything! And Beomgyu, of course, he owes him for coming over to feed Ddongy last night.

“Guys!” He practically runs into the store, spinning around with his tumblr full of coffee held high above his head. “It was a date! An amazing date!”

Jake applauds, clapping his hands together dramatically loud. “Dude you have no idea how happy I am for you. Like I could not have manifested this harder for you!”

“Heeseung, this is great news.” Jungwon cheers, his dimpled cheeks on full display. “Because I have to show you something that is going to blow your mind.” Running to the front door, he turns the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Close’.

“Won, what the hell are you doing?!” Heeseung shouts, blocked by Jake’s frame before he can turn it back around.

“Trust us man, you’re going to need a while to process this.”

“What are you guys going on about?!”

“Your office,” Jungwon nods, snapping his fingers and heading to the back as Jake wraps around his arm and drags him along. “You see, it’s been bothering me for days. Your little girlfriend, I knew I’d seen her somewhere before.”

“You are not going to believe this dude.” Jake chuckles, following Jungwon to stand at the doorway of Heeseung’s shoebox excuse of an office as he logs onto the computer. 

“She’s not my girlfriend, yet..” he mumbles. Trying to keep in mind the awful relationship you mentioned just getting out of..

“After this, you’ll at least have to fuck her.” Jake pats his chest, flicking his chin for him to look at the screen.

“You see, I joined OF as a joke a couple of months ago because my viewers kept insisting.” Jungwon continues to explain, opening up a page with a listing of the top ranked models. “And one of the more popular accounts I noticed because of her strategy, she preys on needy loser gamer guys. Smart though, because she’s definitely making bank. She’s in the top 1%, not some easy shit either trust me.”

“What are you talking about, Won?” Heeseung huffs annoyed, glaring at the break room door as he plans how to escape and re-open the store.

“Look familiar?”

Jake grabs his chin, jerking his head back around to the newly opened page displaying various photos of you in different wigs and colored contacts, scantily clad costumes that hardly cover up any of your body. String micro bikinis, mini skirts that could pass more as belts, and crop tops that do a poor job of fully covering your chest. “Your girls an OF model, a fucking successful one too.” Jake adds, nodding to the screen. “Not only is she hot as fuck, but she’s rolling in money. Probably wiping her sweet little ass with hundred dollar bills.”

The two of his friends go on continuing to make vile comments, scrolling down the page to open up more previews meant to entice potential subscribers. Leaving Heeseung with his jaw on the floor, slowly beginning to shake his head. “T-that’s not her..”

“That’s not her?” Jungwon laughs, pointing out the cat ear headset you purchased at the store only a week ago. “Come on dude, these are modern times. Dating an OF baddie is like a badge of honor. You’re going to get so much pussy after this!”

“Unless,” Jake says mischievously, squeezing Heeseung’s arm much too excitedly. “The date was amazing because you already did!!”

“What?!”

Jungwon stands up, pointing at the screen. “I’m not subscribed but I’m thinking about it. Would give us an idea of what she’s really looking for in a guy.”

Heeseung shoves his chest, gripping onto his uniform vest to switch their positions and take his place inside of the office. “This is not her! And even if it is! She never told me! This is a violation of privacy!”

“Not really! You were bound to find out eventually!” Jake corrects, grabbing his shoulders. “Listen to me man! Please, for once! You really have nothing going for you!”

Jungwon sighs, nodding and agreeing. “This girl, she likes you! She really does! I don’t know, maybe you’re her type. But she’s successful and hot, soo fucking hot!” He whines, eyes full of despair. “Heeseung, this is your chance man! Even after she saw you have your ass handed to you by some kid, she still wants you!”

“That was pretty crazy, and she’s into your streams.” Jungwon adds.

“W-what?!” Pushing Jake off, he clicks out of the browser still flashing lewd images of your body. Gripping at his head and rubbing his temples. “She doesn’t know about my streams.”

“She does.” Jake says, tightly smiling. “Because I told her.”

“You what?!”

“It was when you were busy fighting that kid over a Pokémon card!! She really wanted to talk to you, so I mentioned that you stream!” Jake rambles, hands flailing. “She’s that lyncanthropegoddess or whatever. She’s hot but she’s just as much of a loser as you.”

Slumping back into his office chair, he stares at the ceiling in disbelief. Wracking his brain and trying to understand all of this information being thrown at him. “I can’t do this.”

“You can, you definitely can.” Jungwon squats down, grabbing onto his knees. “And we’re going to help you.”

“How?” He fears to ask, looking back and forth between his friends.

“Trust us, we know how to handle women with experience like this.”

“First, we have to subscribe to her onlyfans.” Reaching past him, Jungwon opens up the screen again. “Like I said, it’ll give us a better idea of what she’s into. Think of this almost like a dating profile. It’s rare for people to meet authentically anymore you know, if you had lurked around like any normal person you would have figured this out sooner!”

“This feels wrong.” He sighs, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the computer screen. “She told me she’s a streamer..”

“I mean, she’s definitely streaming something on here.” Jake whistles, shoving himself into the minuscule amount of space behind Heeseung’s chair. 

“I tell girls about my OF, but you know, I meet them online.” Jungwon shrugs, choosing the subscription that mentions 18+ adult content in the description. “Maybe I wouldn’t if it was someone I met here at the store.”

“I would hope not..” Heeseung mumbles, stopping Jungwon before he can enter his payment information and finalize the purchase.

“Don’t be a dick about it Hee, if I just found out the girl that’s been drooling over me does porn I’d be bouncing off of these fucking walls!” Jake shouts, pushing against the backs of his shoulders. “So ungrateful.”

“I’m not ungrateful, I just really like her.” He mutters, releasing Jungwon’s hand to complete buying the subscription.

“Love that for you dude, but she still does porn.” Rubbing his hands together, he opens up the rest of your profile. “Well, good news.”

“What?” Heeseung fears to ask, covering his eyes.

“She only posts solo work. Nothing with guys..” 

“Hey, this is some good shit though. Click that one with all the hentai girl body pillows.” 

“Jungwon, do not open that!” Heeseung moves forward to cover the screen. Headlocked in place against his chair by Jake’s arm circling around his neck.

“Too late.” Jungwon grins. Expanding the video to show you in a thin metallic pink two-piece. Again, not covering much at all. “Yeah, this is good stuff. I mean, she’s built like—“

“Jungwon.”

“I’m just saying! Happy for you, that’s all. You totally deserve to find a, uh, nice girl like this.”

“I really don’t want to watch anymore.” 

“Fine, we will and we’ll report back to you.” Jake squeezes his neck, fluffing his hair. “The fact that you didn’t get laid after your first date is all I need to know.”

“Did she even invite you to come inside? Jungwon raises an eyebrow, clicking out of your account.

“No, but..”

“Exactly. That’s why you need to listen to us.” Releasing him, Jake moves to get out of the office. Snapping his fingers at Jungwon. “Come on, we have work to do.”

———————————-

Friends are supposed to give each other advice, right?

That’s what friends are for, and whenever Heeseung has had unanswerable questions, he does turn to his friends for guidance.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been too quick to hear out Jake and Jungwon’s advice when they opened up a discord chat a few hours after dropping a bomb on him to discuss what they found while sleuthing through your.. adult entertainment account.

IKEUDICKEU: ‘Can’t believe you just said goodnight after all that. What are you, gay? I would have nailed her.’

PrettyKittyBoy9669: ‘Her entire schtick is about how horny she is. Like she masturbates a lot, has the girl goon nickname down. Says she desperately needs a nerdy gamer guy to fuck her until she goes blind.’

IKEUDICKEU: ‘And here your ass was, goodnight muah muah.’

Had they successfully made him feel like a stupid failure with their advice? Yes, 1000%

That’s where Beomgyu came in. He’s the more sensible and reliable friend. The only reason he doesn’t work at the store is because he actually went into a field that utilized his degree. 

Yeah, real sensible. Especially when he completely cosigns all of Jake and Jungwon’s advice.

Not necessarily that he should have tried to get in your pants on the very first date you had, but you did initiate the kiss. You did come onto him first, and you were tuning in to watch his lame ass streams..

Not to mention that fucking Charizard card?! 

‘Heeseung, don’t be an imbecile. She wants you.’

You really had listened to him yap on about Dungeons and fucking Dragons.. how could he be so oblivious?

Luckily, he remembered that you still needed help assembling a few pieces of furniture. So he suggested coming over after work the next day to start working on that, bring over a new game you could play, maybe watch the extended director's cut version of The Fellowship of The Ring. Suggesting everything before you could even respond, he nervously ran around his apartment when you texted back.

‘Yes! Yes! And YES!!’

He’s going to be inside of your place, where you film.. those videos. And he’s likely going to kiss you again, and.. more.

“Shit.” He sighs, rinsing his face over and over again. When’s the last time he shaved his nuts? Who cares, he’s doing it today. Maybe not the best idea after he replies and lets you know he’ll be over in an hour.

Cologne, some eyeliner, earrings, wash his hair. Right, everything Beomgyu told him to do before your date. Sure, he hadn’t mentioned spending an extra few minutes grooming his privates in the shower, but he’s sure you’d be more than appreciative that he did..

MysticWizardFate1015: ‘I really don’t know if I can do this guys.’

IKEUDICKEU: ‘Of course you can. You got this. Be the man.’

PrettyKittyBoy9669: ‘First off, act like you don’t like her, like she’s not that important to you.’

IKEUDICKEU: ‘Try to get her drunk too, that way the real nasty porn star comes out of her.’

PrettyKittyBoy9669: ‘Last and most important, always be touching her. That’s gonna let her know that you’re there to dick her down.’

IKEUDICKEU: ‘I swear to God dude, if you don’t fuck her, I’m going to hang myself!’

Heeseung clears his dry throat, looking at the bottle of Jim Beam in one hand and his precious copy of Lord of The Rings in his other. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on your door.

This is it, now or never.

“Hey! You got here so fast!” You answer, as gorgeous as ever. Dressed more comfortably with low-rise yoga pants that show off the smooth skin under your navel. A cropped sweater hanging from your shoulders, soft and glowy shoulders bathed in decadent lotion, he’s sure. 

“Oh yeah, traffic must have died down.” Or he rushed through side streets and skipped stop signs while panicking trying to imagine how this could go. Will he kiss you first this time? Will you invite him into your bedroom?..

“Is that bourbon?” You laugh, face scrunched. 

“Yeah, it’s uh, my favorite.” Not really, but Jake suggested he bring a high percentage of alcohol to speed this up. Not that he’s sure why he’d have to get you drunk at all.

“Oh, well, I don’t really drink.” Moving aside to invite him in, he takes a deep breath and gulps as he looks around your place. Everything is pristine, feminine, smells clean and floral. Makes his apartment seem so embarrassing in comparison, he can’t believe he let you see the shit hole he calls home now. “But I guess uhm, I can get you a glass?”

“Yeah sure whatever.” He shrugs, kicking his shoes off to leave by your door.

Act like she doesn’t matter.

The confusion dissipates as your face relaxes, squinting at him. You take the bottle of bourbon from him, looking him up and down. “Everything okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, everything’s fine. You want to uh, watch the movie first?” Rubbing the back of his head, he stretches his other arm out holding the DVD. “Or whatever.”

“Yeah, uhm,” you frown. Forcing a smile and nodding to the living room with an enormous TV screen and enviable console setup. “You can use the Wii, I don’t have a DVD player.” Oh wow, you don’t even have a DVD player? And yet you still agreed for him to come over to watch a movie. That’s a good sign, for sure means you’re down to fuck..

Even as he slides his fingers through some of the games you must have been playing he doesn’t feel right thinking that. But if he tells his friends that he came over and just watched a movie with you, they’ll chop his head off.

Not that that should matter. He should be more focused on you right now. How you’re feeling after your date, if you’re down to go out again and let him prove that he’s not an absolute failure at Mortal Kombat if he can choose his character.

“I got some Coke.” You announce, coming back to the living room with the bourbon in hand and a pitcher of dark liquid. “Not sure if you wanted a mixer but I might gag if I try to take a shot.”

“That’s good, thanks.” With twitching fingers he takes the pitcher from your hand, dragging them across yours. “You look really pretty, by the way.”

The same sparkle that had been in your eyes the other night returns, tucking your chin and batting your eyelashes. “Thank you.”

To keep touching you, he sets down the bottle you’re holding. Taking both of your hands and rubbing your knuckles. “What are you thinking about?”

“I haven’t watched Fellowship in a while honestly. I’m a little worried that you’ll judge me.” You chuckle, squeezing his hands.

“Never, I’d never do that.” Heart palpitations again. Pounding at his chest, he glances around, grabbing the bottle of bourbon to drink directly from, sealing his lips to not spit it out, he turns away from you and grimaces. Why the fuck would Jake suggest this?!

“Oh, you okay?”

“Yeah yeah! Start the movie! I need to use the bathroom real quick.”

“Okay..” fuck you sound so confused, maybe even turned off. How is he fucking up already?! “It’s just down the hall.”

“I won’t be long! Go ahead and start without me!” He rushes down the direction you point toward. Taking a deep breath once he makes it out of the living room and sees all of the art hanging on your walls. Really how could you possibly be into him after seeing how he lives. Meeting him at his job, Gamestop, of all places. Caught up in his thoughts, he opens the first door that he sees out of his peripheral vision. Very evidently not the bathroom, but a room he immediately recognizes and shouldn’t.

It’s the same room in the background of your photos, the video he saw of you humping against pillows. The same bed you were laid out on in nothing but a thong and pasties to cover your nipples. Fuck, this is really happening, he’s dating a porn star.

Shutting the door, he presses himself against it and takes a few more deep breaths. The nasty remnants of bourbon burns down his throat, sighing as he shuts his eyes. He thinks about everything once again, reiterating that you like him.

You. Like. Him.

Right. He has every reason to feel confident right now. Slowly heading back to the living room, he removes the hoodie he has on, hanging it by your front door. He’s seen this movie hundreds of times, purposely made sure to suggest something neither of you would be too distracted by. 

You’re already curled up on the couch when he comes back, feet up with your legs folded. Immersed by the shire being shown on your movie theater sized television screen. Heeseung nods to himself again, sitting down right by your side so that his leg can press against yours. “Found the bathroom?” You ask, leaning into him.

He smiles, lifting his arm to drape around your shoulders. Softly rubbing up and down where his hand lands on your upper arm. “Yeah. You sure you don’t want a drink?”

“You trying to get me drunk?” You ask jokingly, seeming more comfortable now as you nestle deeper into his side.

“No!” He heaves, making a strangled noise. The bob in his neck jumping up and down. Fuck, Frodo’s already on the move, and he still isn’t. He needs to work fast. Turning his neck, he grabs your chin, swiping his other hand through the back of your hair.

“A-ah, you’re caught in my necklace.” 

“Shit, I’m sorry..” he apologizes, unattaching the clasp from his bracelet. 

“It’s fine,” smiling softly, you fix the pieces of his bangs falling out of place. Forming more of a heart shape to frame his forehead. “Cute.”

Heat flames his cheeks, sliding to cup the back of your head properly, he leans in closer. Opening his lips up to shove his tongue inside of your mouth. The photos of your mouth hanging open, crossed eyed with drool falling down to your chest swarm through his mind. Pushing his tongue in deeper to reach your tonsils, he grabs one of your hands. Wrapping around your wrist to lead you to touch the bulge forming in his pants.

“Heeseung,” you swallow, coughing. Eyebrows pinched together as you cup around his groin. Struggling to breath or get a word out with his tongue slithering past your mouth, licking at every side. “S-slow down.”

Pulling back, he glares at you, gaze unintentionally hardened. Moreso confused that you’re suggesting he stop, maybe he’s not doing good. “Isn’t this what you want?”

The speed your expression changes at should have been enough of an answer. Your flushed appearance and heavy eyelids melting into a distant, disappointed look. “What I want?”

Sucking at the backs of his teeth, he leans in to kiss you again. Denied your lips as you turn away and he lands on your cheek. “W-what?”

“Oh yeah. This is what I want.” Shutting your eyes for a few seconds, you grab onto his shoulders. Prying him away to rest his back against the couch so that you can stand up. Lightly kick his feet apart to create space between his thighs. 

He gulps, following your hands sliding down from your chest to the hem of your top, clutching your digits over the material. Enlarged eyes shift away from your lower half, moving up to your face, skin worried between his eyebrows. “Uhm..”

“Wanna fuck me?” Rolling your top up, you throw it aside. Flipping your hair away and off of your shoulders to give him a full view of your lace black bra, cupping your breasts so nicely, rounded with full cleavage.

“Wh—huh??” This shouldn’t feel wrong anymore. Even with his dick twitching inside of the confines of his jeans he can’t help but to feel an ache in his chest. Pinching under the muscle protecting his heart. He gasps as you come down and sit on your knees, grabbing onto them and settling between his thighs.

“How do you want me?” You ask, sultry and seductively. Batting your eyelashes and nibbling at your bottom lip. Your hand returns between his legs, smoothing your palm over the pronounced bulge expanding there. “Inside my mouth?”

Digging his fingers into the sides of his thighs, he furiously blinks. Tilting his chin in to look at you sat on the floor. “Why are you doing this?”

“What?” You huff through your nose, releasing a whisper of a laugh.

“This.” He nods from your hand stroking his size over his jeans to your position. Licking over his lips nervously.

“..isn’t this what you want?” You smile, not reaching your eyes as you reach for his zipper. “To fuck a porn star, treat me like the whore you think I am?”

Heeseung sighs, eyes falling shut. “No, that’s not—“

“So, this is what you think of me?” You interrupt, watery voice hitting him hard. Slipping your hand away from his crotch, you shift back. Pushing yourself to stand back up

“No! It’s not! I swear, I just—“

“Let me guess, someone showed you my account and you thought what the hell? She does it for a living anyway, right?” 

He can’t even look at you, staring at his hands on his lap. He can hear you sniffle, each of your words coming out more broken than the last. This wasn’t how he had imagined this night to turn out. Not even close. “My friends told me to do it.”

“Oh—that’s, that’s rich.” You scoff, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “Get the hell out of here. God, here I thought I’d finally met a nice guy! A normal guy!”

He is normal, maybe. Maybe he’s nothing more than a failure, can’t even think for himself when something too good to be true shows up and slaps him across the face. Getting up when you pull at his shirt, he hangs his head, trudging to the door. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh you’re sorry?! Sorry that you didn’t get to fuck me and go brag about it to your friends?!”

“No, that..” trailing off, he clutches his chest where the pinching pain has gotten worse. Making it harder to breathe as his lungs tighten up under the weight of his failure. “That I—I just, why didn’t you tell me??”

“Because I didn’t want to! Okay?!” You say roughly, lips quivering. Big wet eyes shaking when you meet his gaze. 

“Why? I—“

“Because I loved the way you looked at me.” Tears break and slip down your cheeks. Shaking them off as you turn away and cross your arms over your chest to cover yourself, to hide. “Please, leave.”

“I’m sorry, I swear! I really don’t know what the hell I was thinking!” He knows he sounds more than pathetic, whiny even. Dragging his hands through his hair frustrated that he can’t think of the right thing to do or say.

“Do you even have any idea how—“ sighing, you shut your eyes. Throwing off whatever emotions are attacking you left and right. “Forget it, just get out!”

He nods, sensing the tears hanging on for life at the corners of his eyes. Slipping his shoes back on, he steps out. “Hold on, I—“

“Fuck you.”

The door slams shut in his face. Releasing the tears he tried to hold in, trickling out hot onto his flushed cheeks. He falls down to a deep squat, feels short of breath, burying his head between his knees. He’s an idiot, the biggest fucking idiot in the world. 

Who knows how long he cried in front of your door before finally dragging his sorry ass out to his car. You probably have some security camera and saw it all, his puffy eyes and red nose, not that he can feel any lower right now. And maybe you deserve to see his shame and humiliation. Not even Ddongy can lift his mood once he makes it home and falls face flat onto his bed, hoping that the world will self-destruct before he has to face another day. He falls asleep just like that, still in the same clothes he had on, carrying light traces of your perfume and whatever detergent you use to wash your belongings. 

For the first time ever since opening the store, he calls off. Knowing too well that he’s financially in no place to actually close the store for a day, he calls up Jake begging for him to at least work half of the day.

“Please don’t ask anything dude, I can’t talk about it right now.”

Jake’s half awake and groggy voice diminishes any fight he has in him to be nosey and probe about last night. Snickering and joking around that Heeseung probably had the best sex of his life last night and wants to ice his dick. He agrees to working, tells him to not worry and for once he’s thankful to have a best friend like Jake. Even if his advice on how to bag women is shit.

Not ready to break down about how badly he fucked everything up to Jake or Jungwon, he asks Beomgyu to meet up for coffee during his lunch break at their favorite cafe. Driving down the same highway he’d been on with you only a few nights ago to meet him, he curses the universe for taunting him. The company Beomgyu works for is by the mall, of course.

“You never take time off from working.” His best friend raises a judgmental eyebrow. “You also never look this fucking terrible.” He mutters, mixing packets of Splenda into his coffee.

“Thanks.” Heeseung grumbles, sinking into his seat. It’s probably true, he didn’t bother to shower or change before deciding he needed to talk to someone, the sensible friend in his life.

“Alright, enough moping. What the hell happened?”

Stirring his coffee, he watches the foam melt into the dark brown watery liquid. Setting his elbow on the table and perching his cheek on his palm. “I’m an idiot.”

“Heeseung, I’ve known you since preschool and I wasn’t born yesterday! That’s obvious! Now get to it, I only have 50 minutes left.” Beomgyu snaps snarkily. Always on edge from working in an office at a computer all day while more than half of his coworkers still think his name is Mingyu. He’s been working there for 3 years!!

Glaring at his friend, he curses under his breath. Mentally wishing bad luck on that giant foreigner that started working at his job a few months ago and taught him that damn ‘I wasn’t born yesterday!’ phrase.

Fine. Where should he start? The part where he probably grossed you out by sticking his tongue down your throat? Or when you started crying. Rehashing the entire evening for the next 30 minutes, he goes back and forth to explain the reasons he did what he did. Jake and Jungwon! And ultimately he’s a loser with no confidence despite how nice you have been to him. How there’s actually no legitimately logical reason why you’d be into him, and yet you are. Or were.

“I made her cry, I could kill myself.” He sulks, pressing his chin onto his arms flattened on the table. Hunched over and defeated.

“Ugh, don’t be so dramatic.” Beomgyu scolds, flicking his empty wadded up sugar packets at him. “I mean, that sucks. As much as I hate when you get all stupid like this over a girl—“

“When’s the last time I even had a crush?!” He splutters, sitting up.

“Sophomore year of high school, that Senior girl with blue hair that dressed like Jinx on Halloween. You never had a chance.” He retorts, wiggling a finger at him. “But this girl, she’s different. I had to watch her making googly eyes at you for over an hour while you yapped about D&D of all things.”

Beomgyu shrugs, finishing off his cup of coffee. “You like her a lot, right?”

“Well, yeah?” Why else would he be here watching his overpriced cup of $8 coffee waste away instead of at work, likely getting beat up by a child again. 

“Then don’t give up.” Beomgyu cringes, throwing a tip onto the table. “You want my advice? Be yourself, because she liked you for you. Not because of some black nail polish, or the cologne I let you borrow—and you better give it back! It sounds like,” making a face, he shakes his head. Letting out a quiet chuckle. “You’re similar! And she’s attracted to that. Just be yourself dude.”

Standing up, he adjusts his tie, clasping Heeseung on the shoulder. “You liked her before you found out about her.. career. Go back to that. Also, apologize profusely, until even your ass cheeks start sobbing.”

Heeseung reaches for his hand on his shoulder to give it a squeeze, offering a small smile. His good old trustworthy sensible friend, he really wasn’t born yesterday.

“And stop taking advice from those two idiots, please.” He grunts, messing up Heeseung’s hair. “Gotta get back to work.”

“Thanks Gyu, I really needed that.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it.” He winks before exiting the cafe. Leaving him to sit there alone and sip at his now cold coffee. Gazing out of the window at the giant mall parking lot across the street lost in thought. He’ll never be able to go back to Round One again without thinking about you. Everytime he hears ‘finish him!’ your laughter will follow. And when he sees those stupid little dolls you love, he’ll think about how he couldn’t even win you one.

Wait.

Abandoning his half full cup of coffee, he jogs out to his car to drive over to the mall. Apologizing profusely seems like the best advice he’s gotten overall, that, and he wants to. 

Stopping at the ATM outside before he enters he glares at the money sitting in his bank account that Jungwon loaned him to cover the store's rent. Rent that’s due in less than a week. Those little dolls were $30 a pop.. and his chances of actually winning one are slim to none. Regretfully he pulls out the few thousand meant to be used to keep his landlord and the bank off of his ass. He’ll figure out how to pay it somehow, he always does.. Hours and hours spent at the same claw machine end with failure after failure. It’s only after a few hundred dollars that he finally manages to capture one of these gremlin dolls. Even falling to his knees and clutching it his heart as the machine dispenses it and a group of people who have formed around him clap, cheering him on. 

Heeseung turns in a circle, awkwardly waving and smiling at them. “Hey! It’s that nerd from Gamestop!”

Riwoo. God damnit, this kid is his curse! 

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” One of his friends, Woonhak asks. Folding his arms and rolling his eyes. “Aren’t you too old to be collecting Labubu’s?”

Scoffing under his breath, he tucks the small plushie into his backpack. Pulling out another $100. “It’s not for me.”

“Are you reselling them? Pft, trying to invade my territory now?!” Riwoo gripes.

“No, this girl.. I was sort of dating..”

Riwoo’s eyes go wide behind his glasses, snapping his fingers. “The one that chased me out of the store and tried to buy my Charizard pull for $500?!”

Heeseung’s head snaps up, disbelief all over his face. “What?!”

Woonhak laughs, remembering the events. “We told her it’s a no go! Nothing less than $700.”

“That cards not worth that much! You little—“

“So what, she still bought it!” Riwoo grins, posing proudly with his shoulders pronounced. “I’m a real business man, unlike you.”

“Wait, what?? She paid you SEVEN hundred for that Charizard card?!”

Riwoo nods, poking Woonhak’s side with his elbow. “I should have gone for $800.”

Heeseung’s face drops, turning back to stare inside of the claw machine. But you said you had found someone else willing to sell theirs.. someone who happened to live nearby around town.. you lied?! And paid this little shit head more than double the amount this card's even worth?!

Pulling it out of his pocket, he presses it to his lips. More determined than ever to win you this entire case of Labubu’s! 

Five more hours fly by, and the machine full of ugly smiling dolls blurs in front of his eyes. Making the dolls appear to laugh as he blinks and rubs his exhaustion away, not removing his other hand off the joystick despite how hard it’s cramping. Determined or not, this claw machine is more unforgiving than what should be considered fair for a kids game. Finally unattaching himself from the machine, he lets out a pained sound. Unable to stretch his fingers out as he gathers the Labubu’s he managed to win…maybe something over $1000 later. He stopped counting after $600.

Counting the 9 dolls in his bag, he sighs, smiling at the pink one he had originally wanted to win for you. At least he managed that. 

Heading back out, he sits in his car for a few minutes mewling over what to do. What if you never want to see him again? Or do you need space? Maybe you’ve already moved on and forgotten about him. Unfortunately, he had looked at your Onlyfans account again, only to see your face, nothing more. The blaring number of over 4.5 million subscribers is what rushed him to click out before he could bother to save any photos or check out more. A girl like you had plenty of suitors, sending you tons of gifts.. and here he is with a backpack full of dolls trying to sweep you off of your feet.

“Idiot.” He mumbles, starting the car to drive to your place. Half hoping you won’t be home, maybe won’t even open the door when you see it’s him through the peephole. 

He is willing to beg for you to hear him out, even if it leads to nothing. Even if you ask for him to never contact you again and leave you alone. He needs to tell you how he feels.

Pacing out in front of your door for a few minutes, he goes over what to say. Definitely looking like a mad man if anyone was to walk by and see him murmuring while going back and forth. 

Knocking on your door, he waits, heart beating so loud that it feels like a mild earthquake has erupted. The sound of the latch opening stills his breath, finding your gaze as you step back and open up halfway. 

“Hi.” He breathes, hoisting the straps of his backpack onto his shoulders tighter. “I uh—I’m an idiot, okay?? I saw your account and I—I don’t know. I freaked out.” He rambles, squeezing at the straps to stop his hands from flailing about. “And I shouldn’t have listened to my friends! I should have thought about you first. All I care about is you, you know? All I want is for us to go back to normal again.”

“Can it be normal? Now that you know?” 

Opening and shutting his mouth, he nods for a while. Trying to really think about what you just said.

No. It can’t be normal, and that’s not your fault, only his for ever making you feel that way. 

“This is probably stupid.” Dropping to his knees, he takes off his backpack and unzips it open. Picking out the pink labubu first. “But I should have won this for you the other day..”

“Heeseung, are you crazy?! How did you?—“

“I played, a lot.” He nods, standing up to hand you his bag. “You can just keep that, I’ll buy a new one. I know it’s not much but I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry.”

Hugging his bag to your chest, you frown, bottom lip quivering. 

“I know who you really are.” He continues, rubbing at his nape nervously without anything to distract his hands with. “And you’re better than this, than what I was trying to pull. You’re better than me. You freaking bought me a Charizard card.” He sighs, head shaking still not believing it. “You’re like, not even in the same tax bracket as me. Hell, I’ll probably never even come close, so please, don’t let some loser like me ever make you feel bad about yourself.”

“Heeseung?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Wringing his hands, he stops, jaw falling open. “What?”

“For looking at me, and seeing me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. That’s what you deserve, you’re amazing.” Coughing to clear his throat. He shoves his hands inside of his pockets, looking from side to side. 

“And you’re not a loser.” You say, holding the pink labubu up to your face. “No loser could win me all of these.”

Little do you know that he can barely move his fingers right now. 

“You’re really sorry?” You smirk, leaning against the door frame. 

“Very.”

“How sorry?” You continue to question, sounding playful. “Willing to do anything sorry?”

“Yes?” He stutters, licking his lips. “Is there something you have in mind?”

Grinning from ear to ear, you nod. “I have an idea.”

———————————-

“It’s been a few weeks, did you miss me?” 

Heeseung’s chest thumps rapidly, having to rub over his heart to make sure he’s not imagining it. He’s standing stoically still at the corner of your bedroom, eyes darting from side to side, back to your figure sitting on the middle of your bed on your knees. Seductively leaning in closer to the camera set up in front of you. He gulps, forcing himself to not fuss with his hair, opting to bite at his nails instead. He watches you toy with the long ears on your soft fuzzy hoodie, winking as the sounds of coins rush in and your viewers grace your return with enough money to instantly raise the numbers in the chat over $1000 after only a few minutes since going live.

This is really happening. The last month has been such a rollercoaster leading up to this moment. After actually successfully getting through every Lord of the Rings movie(director’s cut and all), and building the boxes of unopened dressers and shelves you needed help with, despite the struggle, you ended up visiting a few new places. Cafes, bookstores, an 80s themed arcade, somehow even finessed a mall trip that ended up with him acquiring some new clothes that you insisted looked great on him. Much to his dismay when you also insisted on paying, exclaiming that it was your treat.

He can officially say that you are his girlfriend, and now as he stands here watching you announce to thousands of your subscribers that you found someone, he stops chewing at his cuticle for a second to really focus.

“You know I’m always complaining and whining about how hard it is to meet guys. How badly I just wish one of you lonely gamer boys would come fuck me instead and make this easier for me.” You laugh, looking off camera in his direction. “I know you’ve all been begging ever since I opened my Onlyfans to do content with guys.. I never really wanted to.”

Heeseung smooths his hands down the front of his shirt. A plain black t-shirt, nothing special, and joggers, his outfit didn’t matter much for this since it’d be coming off soon anyway. “But I met someone, and guys..I really like him.” You squeal, cupping your cheeks with the sweater paws covering your hands. “Anddd we’ve been getting to know each other so much these past few weeks!”

He looks at the computer screen where the chats going crazy, blowing up with messages from what he can only assume are your loyal subscribers who have followed you since the beginning based on their responses.

YourDaddy97: ‘Is our baby girl finally going to get fucked?’

-YourDaddy97 sent 200 coins

YourDaddy97: ‘Please say yes.’

G00nking: ‘Hey doll face, so happy for you. He better treat you right or we’ll fuck him up.’

Hungry4pus$y: ‘What’s the plans for tonight princess? Really hope you’ll finally use the dildo I sent.’

Rubbing at his neck, he has to remind himself that you do not actually know any of these people. He is the one currently standing in your bedroom for free watching you giggle as you continue on explaining. He’s the one that gets to touch you and wake up by your side tomorrow.

Milftittiez: ‘God please tell me you’ll take it up the ass baby. Need to see that little hole get fucked.’

-Hungry4pus$y sent 500 coins

Hungry4pus$y: ‘I second that.’

You never read the chat while you’re live anyway. Turning back to look at you, he gasps, finding your gaze on him. 

“He’s really amazing, and super nice to me.. he makes me laugh, I can’t stop thinking about him. Uhm..” slowly running your eyes down his frame, you pause and take a deep breath. Gazing at the bulge already pushing out against his sweats. His cheeks flame up, biting on his lip. 

As good as kissing had been, sex with you was even better. Everything he’d been missing out on before with others whenever he felt dissatisfied, lacked feelings and left feeling more miserable than before; with you everything felt right, comfortable, easy. Better than what he could have even tried to concoct in his wet dreams. 

When you had suggested inviting him to join you on a live show he had initially panicked, worried that he wouldn’t be impressive for your audience, but you had really drilled it in how much they’d love it. 

He’s relatable, he’s one of them. 

“Right uhh,” giggling to yourself, you start to fan your face. “Got distracted. I guess it’s time I introduce you all to my special guest, my boyfriend.” Looking back over at him, you reach out your covered palms. Opening and shutting them with a pout. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Taking a deep breath, he moves into the shot on the camera. The image of what your viewers see reflected on another screen next to your computer. Your face, his hips and prominent bulge, the eagerness your smile paints as you reach for his hands. “My baby.”

Biting your lip, you sit up more on your knees, eyes flicking up to look at him. Appearing so innocent and docile on the screen that he continues to look at from the corner of his eye. “And he’s going to listen to all of you. Make sure that I get fucked real good, aren’t you?”

He turns to look at you, reaching for your chin to stroke his fingers across. Eyes darkening as he leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. “Is that what you want?”

Fingers drag across your bottom lip, catching the tips of them a few times. You shut your eyes and nod, humming and sucking one of his fingers in deeper. “Want it, you know how I like it.”

“Yeah?” He sighs, wiping the saliva from his digits down your chin to your throat. Placing his palm across it to hold your neck back and keep your eyes on him. “Tell me, tell them.”

The chat continues to go wild, messages flooding in even faster. The endless sound of coins chiming. 

Milftittiez: ‘Fuck the hell out of her man. Do what I only wish I could. Lucky bastard.’

IKEUDICKEU: ‘That’s our boy!!’ 

-G00nking sent 800 coins

G00nking: ‘Breed her.’

“Want you to fuck me, fuck me so hard until I cry.” You plead shakily, pulling his hips to your chest. Chin perched on his stomach gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Make it hurt.”

Heeseung’s eyes glaze over for a moment, softly cupping your face and caressing your cheeks. Mouth twitching with the need to tell you how pretty you look, how much he likes you. How he’s sorry for what he’s about to do to you, even if you’re begging for it. “Don’t even know what you’re asking for, do you baby?”

Climbing onto your bed, he kneels onto the space behind your figure, his face coming into the shot. The chat explodes as he drapes a hand over your throat and presses his lips to your cheek. Whispering as his other hand slides onto the front of your stomach and steals your breath. “Safe word?”

“Video games.” You whisper, mostly mouth back at him. A lustful gaze letting him know how far gone you already are, grazing your lips down his jawline. 

‘I want it rough, nasty, be as mean as you want.’ You said much too excited while giving him a pep talk only an hour ago. 

He cups your chin, turning your head to look at him. Diving to connect your lips, hot tongue pushing its way inside. Moving from your neck to the back of your head, he grips onto your hair. Pulling your neck back to arch as he explores inside of your mouth, swallowing the excited moans you keep letting out. It’s more heated and sensual than rough, really taking the time to taste and massage his tongue against yours. Fisting at your hair, he sucks onto your bottom lip, beginning to feel woozy when you whisperly breathe out his name, quiet enough for only him to hear.

Judging by the way you twist around by your waist, and shaking hands find their way to his shoulders, he pulls back only to look at you. Lightly pecking the tip of your nose. “What’s my pretty girl have on under this?” He asks, loud enough for the mics around your bed to pick up on. Reaching for the zipper of your oversized bunny hoodie, toying with it. He smirks and turns you back to face the camera, lifting an eyebrow. “Should we find out?”

It’s clear the chat room cheers him on, dropping more coins in to encourage his hand to slide lower and finally reveal what you’ve been hiding. “Hee, please.” You gasp, head thrown back against his chest. Eyelashes flutter as you reach for his cheek and he moves to sit behind you. Legs bracketing your hips, hard cock pressed to your lower back.

“What? Use your words.”

“Touch me,” you whine. Attempting to roll back and lift your ass from the bed to press against his cock. “Please touch me.”

“Yeah? Want it that bad?” He sighs, fighting with himself to keep taking it slow. The longer this goes the more you’ll make, that’s what you said. Licking at your chin, he wraps around your waist again. Slowly pulling the zipper down to stop just where your breasts begin to round out. “So needy for it.”

“Uh huh,” you whine, shivering against him. 

“Think you should beg a little more baby, my sweet baby.” His nose drags down your cheek, softly inhaling your soft dreamy scent. “They want to hear you beg.”

“Please daddy.” You croon, falling deeper into a hedonistic head space. The lost look in your eye magnifying how far you’ve drifted. 

Heeseung sucks at the backs of his teeth, eyelashes fluttering against your cheekbone. His eyes open up with a heavy intense gaze on your flushed face. Chest rising and falling fast as you pant, breath straining the more you squirm against him. “Shh shh,” tugging your zipper lower, he leisurely inches down. Taking a deep breath as he reaches the bottom and peels the sweater off of your chest.

The sound of coins clink louder, pushing the material off of your shoulders to show off the lace pink bra you have on, contrasting beautifully against your skin. The matching thong panty and garter belt on your shapely waist. And the thigh highs squeezed enticingly on your upper thigh, spilling out enough flesh to make anyone watching want to desperately rut between them, ruining the sheer material with endless layers of cum.

He had helped you to choose this lingerie set out the day you went to the mall together. Some store called Agent Provocateur that he’s never heard of, and a total announced at the register that made his eyes nearly fall out of his skull. Someday he’d be the one to quickly whip out his card and swipe before you even have the chance to think about it.

As he drags his fingers down over your breast, pressing a kiss to your trembling throat, he almost feels sorry at the thought of stripping any of it off of your body. Almost.

“Gorgeous.” He whispers, dipping his hands against the curvature of your waist. Littering a few more chaste kisses along the column of your throat, he scoots back. Pulling at the hem of his shirt and tossing it off to the side. He leans against the tower of pillows decorating your headboard, stretching his legs open. “Come here baby,” he says smoothly, patting his thigh.

Slowly shifting to turn around, you drop the rest of the sweater off of your figure, bending down and arching for the camera behind you as you begin to crawl and make your way over to him. “Turn around.” He directs, spinning one of his fingers in a circle. Returning back to your original position with your back pressed to his chest, you let out a relieved sound. Eyes drifting half shut as his arms engulf you and squeeze you closer. “Doing such a good job, bet your fans wish they could be in my place right now.”

A soft hum passes between the two of you, sliding his hands down past the garterbelt on your waist, he traces across the top of your panties. Dragging his fingertips along the frilly material before he gathers it all together and pulls them to one side. Throwing his legs over yours when you let out a gasp, he pulls them further apart, fully manhandling your position. 

“Keep them open,” he says raspily. Voice turning hoarse the harder he breathes. Inhaling deeply through his nose as he fists them harder and yanks until the sound of seams snapping hits his ears. Exposing your wet core to the audience he’s sure is intently watching, finally getting to see someone else make use of your perfect body. 

“God.. shit,” you huff, burying your face against his neck. Suddenly feeling more exposed than you ever have when alone riding the various collection of sex toys you’ve acquired, more vulnerable with his body heat melding into yours. Igniting flames around the two of you, spreading tremors down to your toes. 

Heeseung’s chest beats wildly, using his other hand to smooth across your wet inner thigh, hissing when his palm gets coated with your arousal. “Baby wants to cum real bad, doesn’t she?” He asks against your ear, teasingly pushing the heel of his palm against your mound. Setting your hips off to jump against the touch. He grunts and pulls roughly at your panties, burning the skin along your groin where the fabric digs in.

Slowly walking two of his digits lower past your clit, he teases at your opening. Barely brushing the tips of his fingers between your slit just to feel the thick wetness that’s accumulated. Biting down to hiss between his teeth as he sluggishly circles over your entrance. “Making a real mess,” he says, flicking the wetness off of his fingers and splattering the bedding beneath your ass. “Insane how fucking wet you are.” 

“Unnghh..” reaching back to grip onto his shoulders, you try to squirm. Kept down by the weight of his legs on yours. Slick wetness drips down past the crevice of your ass, soaking through the backs of your thigh highs burying against the bed. 

“What was that?” He grins, nose pressing against your cheekbone. Teeth nipping at your jawline. “This what you want?” He says only to drive you crazy. Slowly rubbing and softly pressing his digits against your entrance. The sound of wetness emitting so loud, filling your chest with embarrassment. Only a few touches and he already has you kicking your feet, eyes rolled up looking at him full of desperation. 

Loudly moaning as he runs up between your slit to brush around your clit, you frantically nod. Tongue hanging out panting like a dog, making his grin widen and crinkle the skin at the corners of his eyes. 

The heat radiating between your thighs could burn his skin, biting down on his lip to hold back a hiss, he finally presses on your clit. Only to pull back and rip a cracked whine from your throat. Using the arm around your waist to pull you closer, he slides lower, digging his fully erect length into your lower back.

“Please, Hee—“ you say fast and frenetic, eyes bouncing around his face full of panic. “Please!” Clawing at his shoulders helplessly, you scratch at his skin. Digging your manicured nails in to leave marks behind.

Heeseung’s eyes thin for a minute, tapping your clit a few times.

Be as mean as you want.

“You want it?” He dares to ask again before you can completely fall apart in his arms. Digging his cock into your back for some type of relief. He grinds forward, pushing through the wetness drenching your cunt, pushing his fingertips past your throbbing entrance. He stills again, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Daddy!” You cry, head shaking from side to side. Legs trembling against his, tipping your neck back to fully look at him. “Please,” you slur out, tears rippling down your cheeks.

Bucking your hips up from the bed in desperate attempt to get him deeper inside, you sniffle, sucking at your wet bottom lip. “Want it so bad, wan—want you so bad.”

Heeseung’s head could spiral off of his body, chest caving as he licks the tears off of your cheek. Glancing up at the camera from his peripheral, he smirks. The never ending sound of coins coming in reminding him that he got the girl. He’s not the loser anymore.

Shoving two of his fingers inside of you with ease, his eyelids flutter for a minute. Groaning at the way your pussy easily sucks him in, gushing wet slick warmth around his digits. Thick fingers finally stretch between your walls, already so swollen with blood and restless rage of hunger to be filled. “Greedy pussy, sucking on my fingers.” He says between gritted teeth, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Crooking them deeper, he angles his wrist to get inside past his knuckles. Pushing his cock harder against your back, writhing against you creating sweet friction that runs through his balls. Suctioning heat grips around his digits, using more strength to penetrate and rub the tips of his fingers against a squishy part deep inside of you. He grunts as you let out a strangled cry, bouncing against his cock until you manage to fully sit on his lap and rub your ass on the tent pressing out of his sweats. 

“F-fuck.” Heeseung’s mind slips for a moment. Breaking his gaze away from your perky ass cheeks going up and down over his lap. He clenches the backs of his teeth, shoving his thick fingers in and out of you faster. Pushing them against your velvety wet walls, hitting each nerve that numbs through your core, rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

“Daddy, please, w-want your cock. Fuck m-me!” You stutter, mostly unintelligibly. Stumbling on your words between gasps and moans. 

“Wait.” He says firmly. Trying to keep himself calm and collected as his other hand sweeps down lower, tapping your clit while simultaneously working his digits in and out of your cunt. “You don’t tell me what to do.” Sucking your earlobe between his lips, he furiously pumps his fingers. Aiming them deep exactly where you need, tapping your clit with rapid speed that has you throwing your hips up again.

“Want..” you whisper, sounding dazed. Voice trailing off as you blink to look at him. Chest heaving up and down, coughing between your tears that keep spilling out. Writhing against him, your lips open and part over and over again. Losing your train of thought as Heeseung works his fingers to move at the same speed. Pinching your bundle of nerves between two digits, scissoring your cunt open to take his cock soon. The anticipation of what’s to come pinches through your limbs. Stilling as your orgasm approaches and the pace of his touch stirs you into a frenzy, rolling your clit between his fingers so roughly, you think that you could die from the stimulation.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Lost in the headspace you’ve fallen into, you can’t stop chanting out every wanton beg possible. Slewing nonsense as a wash of cold drenches down your body, sweating even with the cold brrr of air conditioning circulating around. You manage to kick out from under Heeseung’s legs, feet pointed out and eyes clenched. “A-aahh!” 

Relentless fingers curve inside of you, pulling all of your release out. Shooting slick past the two digits lodged deep inside of you as you scream out and reach to pull on his hair. Pussy dripping everywhere as the sound of coins chimes so loud throughout your bedroom. Cumming so hard that the clear liquid almost reaches the camera, landing in trickles at the ledge of your bed.

Popping his fingers free, he lifts his drenched hand to your face. Harshly breathing against your back as he stretches them open, playing with your sticky cum dripping down his palm. “Came from that alone? And still think that you deserve my cock?”

The loudest whimper you’ve let out breaks from your lips, twisting your neck back with wet eyes. “Please! Want your cock! I deserve it! I deserve it!” You say erratically, grabbing his hand and dragging his wet pruned fingertips down the middle of your tongue. 

He tsk, tugging them away and smearing the rest of your wet slick onto your cheek. “That all you got?”

God he hopes it is. His cock throbs, preparing to rip right through his sweats if he doesn’t fuck you already. Choking on a moan when he lifts his eyebrows up and down, you shake your head and get on your knees. Arching your back with your ass jutted out, dropping your chest to the bed. 

Shakily sitting up, he strokes up and down the backs of your thighs, cupping your ass to test the weight of it in his hands. He squeezes for a minute, pinching one side of your soaked through panties between his fingers before dragging the material together.

“Ah, fuck.” He curses, kissing the backs of his teeth. The pink jewel gleaming between your ass cheeks shoots painful pangs straight through his cock. Tapping on the end of the plug sitting nicely inside of your ass. He hisses again as it pulsates in and out, catching your gaze looking back at him with hope. “This for me?”

“Mmhmm,” swaying your hips side to side to entice him, you reach back and pull your buttcheeks apart. Gripping at the plug covered with a ton of lube and your slick that slipped down. Pulsing the gem to taunt him. “W-want you.”

Pushing himself away from your pillows, he rubs over his bulge, lips pulled back baring his teeth. “That’s how you want to get fucked, huh?” He softly chuckles, leaning over your bent posture. Palm finding the back of your neck to keep you held down in place. “Fucked up the ass like a whore before I ruin your pussy?” 

His rasped whispered words nearly force the plug out of your ass, nodding fast before you break into another round of pleads. You slowly blink at him, licking the tip of his nose. “Give it to me.”

God. It’s as if every single shitty thing that’s ever happened to him gets erased from his memory. Only leaving space to remember this moment, how perfect you are, how not even in his wildest fantasies would he have ever been able to come up with anything this good.

Sitting back up with his hand remaining heavy on your neck, he shoves his sweats down, enough to free his length and stroke the mess of precum that's coated his tip. Slapping the meaty girth down on your ass just to hear the loud clap of skin on skin swarm around him, dizzying him all the more. He gets behind you, letting go of your throat to scratch down the top of your spine and unhook your bra, shoving the straps away for the perfect view of the pretty sunken dip between your shoulder blades. 

Grabbing around the sparkling end of the plug, he pulls it out only an inch, shoving it back inside only to make you lose your mind. To hear the tongue-tied jarble you let out, crying and begging. “What was that?” He asks coldly, dark eyes trailing down your body. Squeezing your hips and slotting his cock between your ass.

“F-fuck my hole, fuck my ass.” You ask too sweetly, softly. Voice torn to shreds from all the tears that you wanted to rain down so badly. 

Heeseung has to take a deep breath when he pulls the plug free. Choking on his spit as our rim flutters, glistening with lube, gaped and empty. Made for his cock to fuck and fill.

For a minute he rubs his length up and down your rim, questioning how exactly he’s supposed to fit in there. You wanted it to hurt..

Cupping your core, he smears the wetness dribbling out on his palm. Painting the mess of it onto his size before pulling his hips back and slamming forward. Penetrating past the tip due to the prep you did earlier and the lubricant still coating your insides. He manages to get half of his length in with one thrust. Eyes squeezing shut at the immediate tight heat he’s met with. 

An obscene pleasured and pained moan echoes around him. Splitting you apart on his cock as he thrusts in deeper and meets obstruction, coming to a still to suck air in through his nose.

“Ah—ahh!” You scramble beneath him. Hands roaming for something to dig your nails into, clutching at the bedding. The toy had been useful to prep you for this, but not good enough to prepare for just how thick and big Heeseung is. Filling your ass so full, so fucking full that it’s blinding. Looking at the inside of your skull from the way your eyes roll back. Tasting his cock so deep, you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to accept another. 

It’s only a minute or less before he’s pulling back out to the tip. Groaning at the way your hole pulsates around him, trying to suck him back inside. Hooking his hands onto your garter, he thrusts back inside with more force. Ripping another long cry from your throat that could shatter glass. The sting of his punching thrusts claps against your ass, filling the room with your heavy breathing, the collision of wet skin, sounds of pleasure reaching new heights.

Heeseung aims at the same spot inside of you over and over again. His clothed thighs pressed against the back of yours as a reminder that he’s still dressed from the waist down, really painting the picture of what a whore you must look like right now. Getting fucked like this in front of thousands, subscribers who will never forget this judging from the sound of pings coming from the chat. 

Fat tears burn down your cheeks as he bends forward and really rides your ass. Burying his feet into the bed with his hips pressed against yours, hitting so deep that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. Running one of his hands back down to your neck, he grips it for a minute. Clutching your throat as be brutally pounds into your ass and drops his gaze down to watch your skin ripple and bounce against him. Pulling back and snapping his hips forward with enough force to shove your face deeper into the bed, muffling your pretty cries. “This is what you wanted.” He groans, licking at drool dripping down his chin.

“Y-yes!”

“Tell them,” fisting a wad of your hair, he pulls your head back. Bowing your back in and cracking your neck muscles in the process. You let out a shout, blinking large wet eyes right at the camera. “Tell them how good it feels.” 

Breath lodges in your throat, makeup ruined from the tears that have smeared across your face. The chat obviously loses it when you finally acknowledge them. “L-love getting my tight little ass fucked.”

Fuck. Heeseung has to drop his chin in order to hide his face. Cock twitching inside of your ass at the lewd way you talk, making so many jealous, making him lose all ties to his sanity. The sound of skin hitting skin grows louder, fist tightening in your hair. He rams down and fucks your ass with ferocity. The arch in your back looks impossibly deep now, undoubtedly painful. Showing off your pretty marked up throat for all of your horny viewers to envy. Fucking his thick cock as his hips jerk with each squeeze you give. He growls, suddenly throwing your head down to grip your hips. “Come on, fucking you this good. Where the fuck are your manners?”

The last thing your brain can process is what the hell manners even mean right now. “I-I—I dunno.” You whimper, repeating yourself a few more times. 

“Don’t act dumb.” He rolls his hips. Circling them and his cock deep inside of your ass. His fingers slide down your cheeks, dipping into your open mouth, and he pulls. Yanks you back by your mouth, drooling out onto the bed as you look at the camera in shock. “Tongue out like that, say thank you.”

The image on the screen makes his cock throb. Beating against the insides of your ass, tightening his balls up as drool drips out down your tongue. Covering his fingers with spit and your tears that flow like no tomorrow.

“T-thank you.” 

God you sound pathetic, groveling and struggling to move your mouth. Coughing out a wad of spit as he continues to fuck your ass open, jabbing out more trickles of drool to fly out.

Heeseung fully pulls you back, stretching your mouth all the way open as he sits you right on his cock and fucks into you with manic speed. Blinking sweat away from his eyes, he watches himself with the most deranged expression, pummeling deep inside of your ass. Tits bouncing on the screen with your bra discarded somewhere on the bed. Panties all strewn and ruined, thigh highs enhancing how sexy and fuckable you look. He feels crazed, mouth going slack, eyebrows pinched together.

“Hee—“ you seize up around him, gurgling his name. Dropping his fingers from your mouth he grips around your throat with both hands. Leveraging his strength with a chokehold, he uses extra force to bounce you up and down his length. Even as you lock up and make it near impossible for his cock to move. Tiny hole making it harder for him to fuck you, filling him with insatiable rage as he thrusts harder, knocking tearsdrop from your chin.

Slick glistens all over your parted open inner thighs. Darkening the material of your thigh highs. He can’t believe it, how much you want it, how much you’re enjoying it. Loving it and begging for more, such a.. “Slut.” He bites out, placing his lips by your ear. Your mouth never shuts even after he lets go, tongue hanging out akin to a thirst starved animal. Panting heavily with no strength left in your jaw or ability to form coherent words. Letting out choked whines and wheezes, jabbed out with each sharp thrust he gives you.

Fucked without a care, pure abandon because he knows he still has to fuck you. Giving it his all with each slam of his hips, he bites on your earlobe. Dropping one hand between your thighs to deliver a harsh skin burning slap. The wet sound emitting out loud, swelling your cunt even more upon impact. He slaps again and again until you’re writhing against him, coughing, head dropped back releasing the most desperate sounds. 

“This.” He huffs roughly, throwing his hips up with a powerful impact. “Is. What. You. Want?” 

The gruff tone vibrates through your skull, slaps against your core matching his thrusts. Grazing your engorged clit in the most mind crushing way. Fucked into oblivion and aching everywhere, from the stinging pain all over your scalp to the bruises forming on your hips and neck. Exactly how you like it. Heeseung licks up your damp cheek, lips returning to press to your ear. “Gonna cum just from my cock in your ass?”

A silent scream cuts like knives inside of your throat, jaw dropped, eyes rolled all the way back. The most obscene pornographic stream your viewers have seen from you. Blowing their minds where they jerk off behind their computer screens to another man bringing you to your highest peakest of pleasure. Entire body quivering, ass clamping down on his cock, squirting onto your ruined bedding again as you reach climax. Entire body going limp as clear wet jumps from your unused cunt, going slack in his arms.

He growls, setting you back down onto all fours. Cock screaming inside of your tight asshole as his body begs for release. He squats over you on the bed, feet digging into the sheets. Pressing down on your shoulders, he thrusts in with determination, growing sloppy as you let out a howled scream. And his teeth grind together, rolling his hips down as the first string of sticky white string pours out of his tip. Stilling to bury the rest of his cum deep inside of your ass. He trembles, hunching over your body. The weight of him too much in your weakened state, sending you both to topple over.

“Fuck.” 

Filthy. The smell of hot sex permeating around him. His cum trickling out of your gaped hole, the way his cock smacks against his stomach. He gasps for breath, rubbing over his face in disbelief. Even the chat quiets down for a minute, only a few chimes of coins drop. It’s possible that everyones too stunned to speak much of anything after that.

Catching his breath, he sits back up, turns to push your hair that’s now a complete mess out of your face. “Safe word?”

“Mm..” you try to smile, weak and dopey still coming down from your orgasm. “V-videos..” You slightly nod, pecking his lips as he leans in and rubs his nose against yours.

“Good girl.”

Heeseung blinks at the screens, crawling closer to the corner of your bed to read a few messages.

G00nking: ‘BREED HER PUSSY PLSS I’M FUCKING BEGGING DUDE!!’

-G00nking sent 1000 coins

YourDaddy97: ‘I second that, destroy her. Need to see that pussy filled with cum.’

-YourDaddy97 sent 1500 coins

MilkTitZSucker: ‘BREED HER BREED HER BREED HER!!’

Getting off of the bed, he shoves his sweats off, kicking his boxers aside. The chat continues to explode with requests to fist you, eat your ass, but the ones begging to breed you overpower all of them, spamming until they get their way. “We’re not done yet.” He says to the camera, reaching for your thighs to drag you closer. Legs hung off the bed with a perfect shot of your cunt for the camera, gaining a lot more earnings. He rubs up your calves to your knees, snapping the tops of your sticky thigh highs against your skin. Smoothing over your aching wet pussy, cupping it with his hand, heel of his palm digging against your clit. He teases for a few seconds, playing with your garter belt, massaging up to your breast to cup and squeeze. “One more baby? Can’t disappoint your fans.”

Slowly nodding your head, you reach for him, hands opening and closing needily. Pouting for them to be held. Linking his fingers between yours, he settles between your legs. Laying down with his chest pressed to yours, kissing your chin. 

The first time you had sex had been slow, soft, mostly exploring each other’s bodies with tons of foreplay. But right now he needs to be inside of you, to feel every inch of his cock trapped in your warmth. Angling his hips, he presses his forehead to your cheek. Looking down to aim the tip of his length at your wet opening, gently nudging until he can press in. “Ughh..” he sighs, loving how wet you stay, even after all the abuse your ass endured. You slick up around his cockhead, making the push easier to pop the rest of it inside.

He prods for less than a minute to let you get used to the stretch. Grabbing your hands to place them on your breast, grasping your shoulders and pushing himself up. Dropping his lower half to penetrate deeper, inch by inch disappearing as you croon; toying with your nipples between your digits. 

“Big—“ you say watery, shiny lips covered with drool. “S’too much, c-can’t.”

Heeseung can feel it, your cunt pulsing around his length. Pussy walls closing on him to push him out and pull him in deeper. Another gush of arousal pours down to his balls, cursing as he pulls out to the tip and gets a look at his glossy slick cock. “Don’t move,” he spits out, biting at his lip. “L-let me just—“

“Daddy—can’t fit you inside my pussy.” You say in a breathless exhausted voice. Heavy eyelids draped low, giving you the most sultry bedroom eyes.

Fuck.

His eyes slam shut to not cum too fast, balls clenched with the threat. A low groan tears from his throat, gripped even tighter as you wail again. “You’re so b-big, stretching me so good.”

“Yeah baby.” Heeseung can’t think of anything. Can’t think of what to do or say, only focused on how tight your pussy sucks his cock. His skin flushing and shining with sweat the longer he holds himself back from fucking you in earnest. “Like that?”

His hips buck on their own, burying himself to the hilt. Leaning forward, he really sinks your shoulders into the bed, somehow getting the very last inch of his cock inside of you. The pressure wide and firm, pressing his cockhead so deep. “The way you s-squeeze, fuck.”

Taking a hold of your neck, he reaches down to hook your thigh over his hip. Snaking his hand between your lower halves to rub your clit. He uses the new angle to grind his cock inside of you, matching the rhythm with the way his fingers circle around your clit. Fingers slipping lower between your folds from how wet you are. He pinches it between his digits and lets out a groan when you start to cum again. Pussy desperately contracting around his size, sliding in and out through your release. Continuing to work his cock through it, he kisses you again, licking your bee stung bitten lips. “Feel good?”

Mindlessly nodding and too delirious to answer, you let go of your breasts to hold on to his shoulders. His hips snap, thrusting in more ruthless with the extra glide of your slick. The hand on your throat loosens as he reaches down and grips your thighs. Pulling them both to press against his hips as he hammers in and out of your pussy. Clenching his teeth as he smooths to the backs to your knees and slowly rolls his hips trying to keep a fast pace. He pushes your knee pits forward, making them meet your shoulders as he bends you in half with his cock lodged inside of you. Strangled moans and whines mix with the grunts and groans he keeps letting out, shoving in again when he sees the skin under your navel protrude. “Fuck baby, that hurt?”

He does it again to hear you whimper, shaking your head. “Daddy please!”

Dragging his hands to your ankles, he moans and presses against the spot again. Rocking his hips forward faster with each thrust. “Please what, I said use your fucking words.”

“C-cum for me daddy,” you sound so pretty, moaning your words loudly. Cracking as they pass through your scratchy throat painfully. “Cum inside m-me!”

God. That does it. Heeseung’s arousal consumes him, gaze dropping from your angelically obscene face to your wrecked cunt. Staring at the way your the skin lining the rim of your entrance clings to his thick cock so pitifully. Snapping around him and luring him in deeper even if you can’t handle anymore. Selfishly wanting to be used and taken again and again.

“More!” You whine, weakly shoving your core against him to make him move faster. 

Pressing roughly at the backs of your knees, he’s in full control now. Fucking forward so hard that all you can do is take and take. Breath hitching and locking in your throat as he pounds into you. Finding the perfect angle to drag his cock in and out. 

Another wet splash of slick hits his groin, trickling down to his drenched balls. Making a mess between his thighs covered with your slick. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm, fucking through the stream of squirt reaching high enough to hit the middle of his chest. “That’s it.” He groans, thrusting even harder.

Thighs still shake against him as you come down and gasps loudly. Digging your nails into the skin under his pecs, scratching and staring up at him in disbelief. It’s too overwhelming, the heat of your bodies meeting like this, the sticky wet sounds growing louder with each thrust. “G-gonna fucking—fuck your pussy full of cum.” He says strained, raspy and out of breath. “That’s what you want? That’s what you want!” 

Blown out eyes stare down at you, forcing your legs open wider to find that spot deep inside of you that aches so good. He loses it, going crazy inside of your pussy. Thrusting so fast that it slides your back up the bed with him. Throwing all of his weight into each drop of his hips. “Fuck!” 

Dropping your legs, he lets them flop out to your sides. Resting one hand on your lower belly and the other against your heart, beating so hard he can feel it. Thrusting deep, hitting the skin under his palm. The feeling of both at the same time does something to his brain, blacking out as you start to cum again. But he doesn’t stop, wants to fill your pussy until its dripping with his seed. Chasing his orgasm, he lets out a string of curses, cutting to shuddering breaths. His thrusts get messy, slowing down the last few as his face scrunches up and he lets out the longest broken groan. Spilling load after load of creamy hot white cum inside of your clenched pussy. His toes curl, hips twitching forward with slow pumps to drag it out.

He has to tuck his lips in to stop himself from saying something that could potentially scare you away, especially in front of thousands of gawking eyes. “Ugh..”

Lightly falling on top of you, he starts to pull out. Hissing and gliding the rest of his length free from your hole still squeezing around him. Dropping his body fully onto your bed, he hears the pings from the chat room, leaning over to kiss your forehead before he gets up to turn it off. “Be right back.”

“Mmph..” you mumble, half asleep. Standing up, he wipes his dick clean with his shirt, stepping into his sweats as he makes his way over to the computer. 

‘Thanks for joining us, everyone. Have a goodnight.’

Turning everything off, he exits from the screens and makes his way to your bathroom to get a towel to clean you off with. Remembering to go back out to the hallway and grab his bag before he makes his way over to your limp figure curled up in bed. “You can’t sleep like this baby.” He smiles, wiping the dry cum and slick off of your thighs and stomach. Tenderly cleaning between your thighs when you hiss.

“Yes I can.” You say, muffled with your face half dug into a pillow.

“But I have something for you.”

Peeking open one eye, you look at him. Pushing up to sit up and groaning about your back. “More labubu’s?”

“Mmm no.. better, maybe.” He gets up, tossing the dirty towel into your hamper. Setting his bag down on your bed, he unzips it and holds it closed. “I didn’t only pack a huge bag to stay over for tonight, but because I finally finished your bow.”

“Oh my God!” You squeak, bouncing up and down in place. Heeseung coughs, digging his hoodie out from the bag for you before he gets distracted again.

“Hope you’ll like it..” he blushes, really worked hard on it for weeks. Longer than he had originally wanted to, but you deserved something to hold that could match up to your beauty. 

Carefully taking it out, he unwraps the cloth from it. Holding the bow out for you. Hands shaking as he does. “Heeseung, I can’t believe you did this for me..” eyes swollen from crying look over the details, the painting, how much craftsmanship went into this. Touching over the carvings with a huge smile on your face. “I almost forgot about this.. I love it!”

“It’s nothing.” He can’t stop smiling. Wanting to rub the heat away from his cheeks as you stand up, his hoodie hanging just below your hips. You arch back and stretch the bow, directing the arrow at his chest.

“Wizard, what do you have to say for yourself? Falling for a druid? Have you no shame?”

Wrapping his hand around the pointed tip of the arrow, he presses it to his chest. “I dunno, maybe I’m stupid.” He snorts, releasing the arrow to spread out his arms. “I’m your captive now, my druidess, to do with me whatever you please.”

“Anything left to say before I make you mine?” Stretching the bow, you raise an eyebrow. The playful glint in your eye still manages to radiate in your dim lit room. Even though he knows this is all for fun, joking around with your weapon aimed at his chest, he can’t help to think that he’d let you shoot him down without a fight. 

He’d let you win everytime, just to watch you light up and smile. To do whatever he can to make you happy, even if just for a minute.

“I love the way you look at me too.”

“Don’t fucking move,” a gravelly voice from behind him menacingly says in a low tone. Heeseung feels what he can only suspect is a gun aimed towards his head, the barrel pressing coolly against his skin. The sensation is chilling yet alarming, sending an icy shiver down his spine. His body reacts to the peril, heat surging through him as adrenaline courses through his veins. 

Heeseung's heart pounds erratically in his chest, each beat echoing like a drum in his ears. His breath quickens, the air feeling thick and oppressive, suffused with tension. He risks a glance at you, standing just a few feet away, your eyes wide with terror and confusion. The sight of your fear ignites a fierce protectiveness within him, but he is acutely aware of the danger you both are in.

The gunman's presence is oppressive, his grip on the weapon steady and unforgiving. Heeseung can sense the man's breath on the back of his neck, hot and acrid, mingling with the cold metal of the gun. Every instinct within Heeseung screams at him to act, to somehow disarm the assailant and ensure your safety, but he knows that any sudden movement could provoke a fatal reaction.

Instead, he slowly puts his hands up, surrendering to the threat. “I’m just moving to the side, okay?” he tries to barter with the man like he has any hand in this game. He’s not equipped for being held at gunpoint, knives sure, you come across boys wielding them all over London, but never a gun. His inexperience is hindering him greatly in all aspects of life.

With a grunt from the man behind him, Heeseung takes a small step to the left, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s trying to communicate with you to run, to get as far away from this sudden danger as possible, yet you don’t move, shaking your head due to your own fear-ridden mind.

You’re transfixed with a wave of fear, the man finally coming into your peripheral as Heeseung moves away from you. The last thing you want right now is to be away from the boy you’ve grown so attached to, so seeing him silently beg you to leave him doesn’t register, the thought of ditching him never crossing your mind.

The man pokes his gun harshly against Heeseung’s head once more. “Turn around. Slowly.” The demand is met as Heeseung takes small, slow steps to face the aggressor. What he expects to see is a policeman, finally catching up to you both, ruining the chase-turned-honeymoon and capturing you like rabbits in a trap.

Despite the open air of the abandoned theme park, you can’t help but feel claustrophobic, the wind suddenly turning into ropes as it ties around your throat, rendering you breathless and without words as you come face to face with the man.

Before you is none other than the Brixton killer, the man who brutally murdered an innocent shopkeeper and policeman. The scene was horrific, stabbing the worker 28 times all over his chest and abdomen, and somehow stealing the arriving police officer’s gun and shooting him in the eye. He was sentenced to prison for life without chance of parole, yet after an elaborate escape plan, here he stands in front of you.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” he asks, a grimace twisting his face as though you were ransacking his home of treasure.

Heeseung swallows hard, looking him dead in the eye. “Just…enjoying the sights,” he tries to joke, and you curse him with all the names under the sun for not reading the situation in front of him.

“Don’t get smart with me, who sent you?” the man waves the threatening pistol between Heeseung’s eyes, causing the boy to clamp shut. Sometimes he has a habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and unfortunately, this is one of those times.

He doesn’t think he has ever been this nervous or anxiety-induced in his entire life, he misses when his biggest problem was an intact V-card and handing in his dissertation.

“N-no one sent us, Sir, we swear! We just stumbled upon this place and I wanted to take a look, that’s all,” your voice is attempting to stay level but some cracks are seeping through as you fight your composure.

“Tell me the truth or I blow your boyfriend’s brains out,” he threatens, the gun pressed firmly against Heeseung’s forehead. The man is not playing around; his eyes radiate cold determination, underscoring the seriousness of his ultimatum.

You shake your head violently, eyes wide enough for the chilling wind to swoop in and create tears in your ducts. “No! No, no, no. I swear, I promise I’m telling the truth.” Full-blown panic fuels your words, your hands trembling as you hold them out in a desperate, prayer-like gesture.

It hits you that Heeseung’s life is in danger because of you. You detoured your plans all because you wanted to visit this rundown park, landing you both in the middle of a one-sided standoff. The responsibility for whatever happens now weighs heavily on your shoulders. This is just like the hotel all over again; you brought trouble to Heeseung’s door because you didn’t think. You are the reason Heeseung is running away.

You have to fix this, you have to save him.

“Please, we accidentally killed a man and now we’re on the run. I made the call to get off the bus to Troon, and that’s how we ended up here, because I wanted to see the park. Please, don’t kill him. Please, I will do anything you ask, just please don’t kill him.”

You lose track of how many times you say please, begging the man to hear your truthful side of the story. The instilled panic causes you to ramble, spewing any words that might convince the man to lower his gun and ensure Heeseung’s safety, even for a few minutes. You're so close to dropping to your knees and praying to the angels above to answer your cries.

Heeseung’s face is a mixture of shock and anguish as he listens to you. His eyes dart between you and the gunman, his mind racing to find a way out. The Brixton killer’s expression hardens, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. The grip on the gun remains steady, but there’s a momentary hesitation. He doesn’t lower the weapon, but the intensity in his eyes dims slightly.

The silence stretches, taut and suffocating. Heeseung’s hand twitches as if he wants to reach out to you, to pull you into safety. But he remains still, every muscle tensed, knowing that any rash action could end in disaster.

“You want me to believe that you and Ken over here killed someone?” He flicks his gun at you for only a moment, not believing you to be a threat. Why should he? You’re two 22-year-olds who got scared of a haunted house and almost had sex in a love tunnel while on the run from police; you’re hardly Bonnie and Clyde.

Heeseung nods slowly. “It’s true, It was an accident but now the police are after us-”

"The police? You brought the fucking police here?" The murderer tenses up again, any lapse in focus gone as he stands straight, staring at both of you with enmity and dread. “I’ve been hiding here for a week. I am not letting you little fuckers get me caught.”

His anger is palpable, his face growing redder by the second. You wish Heeseung would shut the fuck up for a moment. You cherish the boy so much and usually value anything he has to say, but he’s turning into a liability in the face of death.

You bring the man’s attention back to you, hoping to calm him again. “No, no one followed us. They have no idea where we are. We’ve been roaming the borders to keep ourselves on the down low.” Your explanation is feeble and lacks real substance, offering little reassurance of your anonymity with the police.

He assesses you, eyes narrowing as he scrutinises your features. With emotions swirling in your brain, you probably look deranged, eyes wild with threatening tears and jaw clenched tightly. Stepping closer, he moves the gun from Heeseung’s head – much to your relief – and taps his chin with it, as if trying to place where he’s seen you before. The expression of reminiscence on his face is unnerving. You’d think he could have been one of your customers, but that’s impossible. So, you meet his gaze with wary curiosity.

He sucks his teeth before nodding, as if reaching a conclusion. “You’re the motel murderer,” he smirks, his eyes losing some of their anger, replaced by something unsettling. Whatever is going through his mind, you’re thankful because he lowers his guard slightly. His grip on the gun loosens and he pouts in amusement. Both you and Heeseung let out shaky breaths, relieved as the man flicks the safety back on the pistol. Yet, you’re not out of the woods.

“You know,” he begins, tilting his head mockingly, “the news is calling you the Black Widow.” His comment stuns you, freezing the breath in your lungs. Heeseung glances at you with wide eyes, a mix of confusion and curiosity. You blink, trying to process the killer’s words. Black Widow. Why are they calling you that?

Sensing your bewilderment, the murderer continues. “They don’t believe angel face over here is still alive,” he mutters casually, pointing to Heeseung, whose expression mirrors your horror. “Papers are saying you must have forced him to kill for you and then you ate him right up.”

“That’s not true!” Heeseung exclaims, shaking his head vehemently.

“Well, clearly,” the man rolls his eyes in annoyance, looking Heeseung over. “You’ve got people defending you, saying you’re just an innocent lamb that got gobbled up by the big bad wolf.”

Goosebumps form on your skin as he drags out the second unappreciated nickname for you. You knew this would happen. A virgin with a clean track record gets involved with a sex worker and suddenly he’s part of a crime. The inevitability of being blamed for everything sinks your heart into your stomach, the acid churning with anxiety.

You couldn’t imagine hurting Heeseung now. The accusations that you coerced him into murder and then devoured him are preposterous. You’re just a girl trying to make some money and survive, not a conniving murderer.

But what you both don’t know is that back home, Heeseung’s family is defending his name, speaking praises and clearing his name quickly. Meanwhile, you have no one. Neither your brother nor your father has spoken up for you despite everything you’ve done for them. Sure, your brother is estranged and your dad would rather call you a whore to the neighbours than speak to you, but you’d hoped they knew you well enough to believe you wouldn’t murder a man and kidnap another.

The man snarls in amusement, looking back at you. “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if her plan was just that. Bring you here and kill you off on one of these rides.” He directs his gaze at Heeseung, but his sly grin is for you, indicating he’s playing a game you don’t know the rules for.

Tearing your eyes away from the man, your pupils widen with urgency and desperation. “Heeseung, I wouldn’t...”

“I know,” he replies instantly, not giving you a second to explain. He knows you better than anyone now. In the two weeks you’ve been tied to each other like handcuffs, learning everything there is to know about one another, Heeseung knows you wouldn’t hurt anyone unless you had to, let alone kill him for fun, which is what this man is suggesting.

The connection you two share is pure and real, and Heeseung will be damned if he ever thought otherwise.

Heeseung’s reassurance gives you a fleeting moment of comfort, but it is quickly shattered as the killer moves in closer. The distance between you evaporates, his presence suffocating. Heeseung’s eyes widen with fear as the man raises the gun, pressing it under your chin. The cold metal sends shivers down your spine, and you instinctively freeze, every nerve in your body on high alert.

“You know,” he drawls, his voice low and menacing, “there's a reward out for you. I wonder how much I could get off my sentence for bringing you in.” His breath is hot against your face, the smell of tobacco and stale beer nauseatingly close.

The proximity is unsettling, his eyes boring into yours with a predatory gleam. You can feel the tension in his grip, the gun pressing harder into your skin. Heeseung's face is a mixture of horror and helplessness, his hands twitching as if he wants to do something, anything, to get you out of this situation

“You must think you're something special,” the man continues, his voice dripping with contempt. “Running around, causing chaos, thinking you’re untouchable. But you're not. You're just a scared little girl who got in way over her head.”

Heeseung clenches his fists, the knuckles turning white. There's a fire igniting within him, a fierce determination to protect you no matter the cost. His mind races, evaluating the situation with the precision of someone fighting for survival. He watches the man closely, noting every detail: the way he sneers, the way his eyes flicker with malicious glee, and crucially, the fact that he hasn’t disengaged the safety on his gun.

The thought strikes Heeseung like a bolt of lightning. The man, in his arrogance, hasn’t realised the gun isn’t ready to fire. This oversight could be their only chance. Heeseung's eyes dart to you, his heart aching at the sight of you trembling, the gun pressing into your chin. He knows he has to act fast and decisively to get the brute away from you.

Gathering every ounce of courage, Heeseung shifts his weight subtly, preparing himself. His mind hones in on the plan, focusing on the back of the man’s leg. If he can just create enough of a distraction, enough of an opening, you might have a chance to escape. The killer’s attention is entirely on you, his grip on the gun tightening as he revels in his perceived power.

n one swift motion, Heeseung lunges forward and stomps down hard on the back of the man’s leg. The brute lets out a guttural shout of pain and surprise, his grip on the gun faltering. The force of Heeseung's attack sends the man stumbling backward. The sudden movement breaks his focus, and his eyes widen in shock.

You let out a breath, one you’ve been holding in since the gun was pointed at you. However, you don’t get the chance to enjoy the air as Heeseung pulls you into a tight embrace, pressing your head against his chest. His lips brush the top of your head in a tender kiss, a silent prayer of gratitude that your brain is intact and not splattered over the gravel.

The moment of relief is fleeting.

“You little shit!” the man exclaims, abruptly finding his feet and injecting a fresh wave of panic into you and Heeseung. The sheer venom in his voice sends shivers down your spine. You clutch Heeseung tighter, your fingers digging into his shirt as fear courses through you.

Before you can react, Heeseung pushes you behind him, positioning himself as a shield. The brute charges at you both, his face contorted with rage. Everything happens in a blur—there's a sickening thud, and you see the man’s gun raised high before coming down with brutal force. Heeseung tries to block the blow, but the gun's butt slams into his temple with a sickening crack.

“Heeseung!” you scream, the sound tearing from your throat as Heeseung crumples to the ground. The world narrows to the sight of him collapsing, blood trickling down the side of his face. Your heart pounds wildly, a mix of fear, anger, and helplessness overwhelming you.

“It’s Evan,” he replies, wincing as he struggles to hold up his head from the ground. The fact that Heeseung’s main concern is keeping his persona must either mean the gun rendered him dumb or he was already stupid to begin with. You hate to say it’s the latter.

You huff and stomp your feet. “Now is not the time, Hee!” you shout at him, frustration and fear mingling in your voice.

The man’s eyes narrow, his patience wearing thin. “Shut the fuck up!” he yells, waving the gun wildly between the two of you. His face is twisted in rage, eyes glinting with murderous intent.

Just as the tension reaches its peak, a distant sound pierces the air - a siren, faint but unmistakable, growing louder with each passing second. The sudden intrusion sends a shockwave of panic through all of you. The man’s eyes widen in fear and anger, the threat of capture looming over him.

The man’s face contorts with fury and desperation. He knows his time is running out. He points the gun erratically, his movements becoming more frantic. “I’ll get you cunts, I swear on it!” he snarls, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and fear.

He takes a step back, his eyes darting around as he tries to figure out his next move. The sirens grow louder, closer, the promise of prison mingling with the fear of what the man might do next. Your heart races, every second stretching into an eternity as you watch the man’s indecision.

The man takes another step back, his gaze flickering between you, Heeseung, and the approaching sirens. The conflict in his eyes is evident - he wants to finish what he started, but the looming threat of the police forces him to reconsider. With a final spit, he turns and runs, disappearing into the shadows of the park.

Heeseung groans, struggling to sit up, his face pale and bloodied. You kneel beside him, your hands trembling as you touch his face gently. “Heeseung, we need to get out of here,” you plead, your voice breaking. “Please, can you stand?”

Nodding, he holds onto your forearms, seeking comfort in your skin. You quickly wipe away some of the blood trickling into his eyes, the warm liquid smearing across your fingers and rendering your lungs useless as you forget to breathe for a moment. The sirens sound imminent now, a cacophony of urgent wails cutting through the air. Heeseung’s brain feels like it’s thumping against his skull, a sharp, persistent pain stinging behind his eyes from the blow.

“We have to go,” you whisper urgently, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. “Come on, Heeseung, we have to move.”

With a Herculean effort, Heeseung pushes himself to his feet, leaning heavily on you for support. You wrap an arm around his waist, feeling the tension in his muscles as he fights through the pain. Heeseung's steps are shaky, and his centre of gravity sways as he tries to centre himself. His eyes are unfocused, struggling to stay open, but he forces himself to move forward,

You clutch his hand tightly, your grip a lifeline as you guide him away from the scene. The abandoned theme park stretches out like a maze, shadows from the sunset twisting into sinister shapes. The fear gnaws at you, but you push it down, focusing on the need to get Heeseung to safety. Each step feels like an eternity, the weight of the moment pressing down on you both.

Glancing back, you see Heeseung wobble slightly. Your heart clenches with worry. “Are you okay?” you ask, your voice a whisper in the darkness. Heeseung nods weakly, trying to give you a reassuring smile, but the pain etched on his face betrays him.

You lead him through the overgrown paths, the weeds and debris crunching beneath your hurried footsteps. The flashing lights from the police cars cast eerie shadows across the dilapidated structures. You can’t afford to be seen. Not now, not when you’re so close to getting away. If this journey was all to end now, what would it be for?

Every few steps, you glance back, checking on Heeseung. His breaths come in ragged gasps, his face slick with sweat and blood. But he doesn’t complain. He just keeps moving, driven by the same determination that fuels you. You take a sharp turn, ducking behind a rusted old carousel. The horses’ faded eyes seem to watch you, silent witnesses to your desperate escape.

You pause for a moment, catching your breath and listening intently. The cars stop outside the main gate, but the park’s labyrinthine layout works in your favour, muffling the sounds and creating a confusing echo. You look at Heeseung, your heart aching at the sight of his battered face. “We’re almost there,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.

Luckily, there is an old gate that leads to the forest just behind Joyland, your one-way ticket out of here. Running up to it, you see it has a rusty lock that has seen better days, making it an easy break. There is no time to waste, so you quickly kick the lock, mustering up every ounce of force you have.

“Y/N, watch yourself,” the injured boy groans behind you, his hand holding onto the wound to compress it. He feels like he wants to vomit, the paleness of his skin and the shaking of his fingers evidencing this. He is trying so hard not to pass out, knowing that you both just have to find somewhere to hide, somewhere safe.

Despite being the one in immense pain, he is looking out for you once again and it only spurs you on further to get the door open. “I almost got it,” you inform him, giving the bent metal one final kick before it snaps in half and the door swings open.

You take Heeseung’s hand and pull him through the gate, the dense forest swallowing you both in an embrace of dim sunlight. The sounds of the sirens are muted now, the thick trees and underbrush acting as a natural sound barrier. You hold Heeseung’s hand tightly, your fingers interlaced, guiding him through the uneven terrain.

Every step is a struggle for him, his breathing ragged and laboured. You glance back frequently, your eyes filled with worry, watching for any sign that he might collapse. His face is a mask of pain, but he pushes on, driven by sheer willpower. The forest is a maze of twisted branches and overgrown paths, but you press forward, determined to find a place to hide; at this point you’ll take anything - a hollowed-out tree, a dip in the ground, even that evil witch’s gingerbread house from Hansel and Gretel. 

The sun is beginning its descent, casting long, eerie shadows through the trees. The forest is painted in hues of orange and gold, a beautiful but haunting backdrop to your desperate escape. Your heart pounds in your chest, the adrenaline keeping you moving. Each rustle of leaves, each crack of a twig underfoot sends a jolt of fear through you. You know the police are close, their searchlights sweeping the park behind you. The urgency of your situation drives you on, every muscle in your body aching with the effort.

After what feels like an eternity, you spot a faint object through the trees. Relief floods through you, and you squeeze Heeseung’s hand, urging him forward. “There,” you gasp, pointing towards a cottage house. “We can hide there.”

Heeseung nods weakly, his legs barely supporting him, causing him to let go of your hand and collapse to the ground. The sudden disappearance of his hand in yours sparks alarm bells, and you quickly turn around, eyes wide with panic as you see him on his knees, clutching at his injury. The pain is evident on his face, the vibrations from the blow shaking his entire skull.

“Fuck! Heeseung,” you exclaim, your voice trembling as you bend down to lift his head up, your fingers gently brushing the blood away from his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Heeseung’s eyes flutter open, unfocused and filled with pain. Slowly and unenthusiastically, he shakes his head. “Please, Y/N, go on without me,” he groans, his voice barely above a whisper. Each word seems to cost him immense effort, and you can see the desperation in his eyes but it’s also followed by a gleam of amusement, following the script of so many movies he has watched.

You roll your eyes at his dramatic performance, trying to inject a bit of lightness into the dire situation. “Baby, don’t be so dramatic,” you chide gently, your voice laced with both urgency and affection, the nickname slipping out by accident. “Move those long legs of yours, please.”

Heeseungs eyes widen for a slit second, a large, comical smile on his face. “Baby? I’m your baby?” he asks, the head injury obviously causing him some sort of disillusionment.  

Despite the fear gnawing at your insides, you muster a small smile, hoping to give him some strength. “You can be my baby if you move,” the tone of your voice is a warning sense of playfulness but seems to do the job, Heeseung moving his body with more chutzpah.

You crouch down beside him, slipping your arm around his waist to help him up. Heeseung leans heavily against you, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He can feel your warmth, and the concern in your eyes gives him a flicker of strength. Despite his pain and slightly concussed joking, he’s determined not to let you down.

The cottage is void of cars in the driveway, much to your relief, and you take it as a good sign that no one will be home. It’s an educated guess considering you’re in the middle of piss-pot nowhere and they certainly aren’t catching the bus to work; if there are no cars, it equates to no one being home.

You hope.

Reaching the entrance, you quickly glance in the windows, just to double-check the vacancy of the property. With all the lights off and no sight of a guard dog, you can begin your search for a way in. The oppressive silence and stillness of the house suggest it has been unoccupied for some time.

“Heeseung, just wait there,” you say softly before running up the front steps. The steps are lined with an array of flowerpots, leading you to the entrance door. If movies have taught you anything, it’s that people are often foolish enough to leave keys under pots for emergencies. Frankly, you have never understood this practice yourself; it’s so cliché that if they did do it, robbers had every right to exploit their naivety.

You begin searching under the pots of sunflowers and peonies, feeling the rough terracotta and cool soil on your fingertips. Suddenly, you stumble across a singular gold key. In this moment, it might as well be Blackbeard’s treasure. The key gleams in the fading sunlight as you pick it up, waving it in front of Heeseung triumphantly.

However, instead of relief, Heeseung looks concerned through all his pain. “Y/N, we can’t just go in,” he argues, his moral compass inconveniently emerging at the worst possible time. The boy is bleeding with the police hot on his tail, and he’s worried about trespassing on the property of some affluent vacationers.

“We have to, Heeseung. You’re in a bad way, and the police will be scouring the woods as we speak. Can you just set aside your good heart for a second?” Your words are both careful and harsh, attempting to convey the severity of the situation. There isn’t time to debate the ethics of breaking and entering.

He concedes, gesturing with his hand for you to open the door, his face contorted in pain. You slide the key into the lock and swing the door open, beckoning Heeseung inside.

The interior is cold despite the summer weather. A thin layer of dust covers everything, a good sign indicating that the house has been unoccupied for some time. The foyer is quintessentially British, with tiled floors in mossy green hues and a staircase to your right, featuring a vintage wooden bannister and carpeted steps. The walls are adorned with magnolia panelling, decorated with oak-framed pictures of flowers and their meanings. An un-vacuumed Turkish rug lies on the floor, its colours dulled over time.

Heeseung makes it up the stairs, leaning on your shoulder as you admire the space. If he wasn’t concussed, he might share in your awe of the place, but right now he just needs to sit down and take some painkillers.

You lead him down the hall into a sitting room. The room is inviting and comforting, resembling your gran’s house before she passed away. Heeseung follows your guidance and sits on the couch’s armrest, taking the much-needed weight off his legs and focusing all his energy on holding his head. The bleeding has stopped somewhat, but the battering of his brain against his cranium is the real danger.

“I’m going to find some painkillers and ice. Please don’t die while I’m gone,” you joke, but your eyes reveal your seriousness.

As you head to find the bathroom, your heart pounds with anxiety. You come across a door under the stairs and open it, revealing a tiny cubicle with a toilet, sink, and a mirrored cabinet. With a flicker of hope, you reach for the cabinet, praying it holds the answer to your problems.

Unfortunately, you catch a glimpse in the mirror which reflects a sight you wish you hadn’t seen: your bangs are askew, your eyes bloodshot from stress and holding back tears, and your lips cracked from dryness. You knew the disguise would change your appearance but somehow the experience is changing you from the inside. You have never been bright and chirpy but you have never looked so dull, as though the life is being vacuumed out of you. 

Ignoring your reflection to focus on the real cause of concern, you rummage through the cabinet, your hands trembling. Finally, you find a blister pack of co-codamol amidst the old perfume bottles and bandages. The sight of it brings a wave of relief, knowing that these tiny white pills can begin the mending process.

Clutching the co-codamol tightly, you rush to find the kitchen, your footsteps echoing in the empty house. Each step feels like an eternity, your mind racing with worry for Heeseung and the fear of being caught, after all there is still a chance the police or homeowners could walk through the door any second. 

Entering the kitchen, you are struck by its quaint, rustic charm, with wooden cabinets and a checkered floor. The warm, homey feel of the room is almost jarring given your frantic state.

You fling open the freezer, desperate for ice, but there’s none. A pang of frustration hits you, but you quickly grab a bag of frozen peas, feeling their coldness through the plastic. Wrapping the peas in a tea towel, you focus on the task at hand, trying to steady your breathing. The sense of urgency is overwhelming, your mind filled with images of Heeseung's pained expression and the ever-looming threat of the police.

You fill a glass with water from the tap, watching the clear liquid swirl and fill the glass to the brim. The simple act of filling a glass feels almost surreal amidst the chaos, a brief moment of calm as the water trickles in. It’s a small respite, the sound of the water soothing your frazzled nerves even if just for a moment.

Returning to the sitting room, you find Heeseung still clutching his head. Your heart aches to see him in such agony. You hand him the co-codamol and the glass of water, your eyes filled with concern. “Take these,” you say softly. “And here’s something cold for your head.” You gently place the makeshift ice pack on his forehead, watching as he relaxes slightly under the cool pressure.

Like a mother making sure her child eats vegetables, you watch Heeseung swallow the pills with ease, desperate for the relief they will provide. The cold, crisp taste of water glides down Heeseung’s throat as he downs the glass, thankful for the quench in his thirst. In another life, he might be physically able to run a marathon, but in this one, he’d much rather stick to playing video games and leave running to the professionals.

Slowly, you take the ice pack from his head, the tea towel now embellished with his dark red blood. The wound isn’t too deep despite the blood pouring out; you could easily patch it up with some gauze and plasters.

“I’m going to get the first aid kit. I think I saw one in the kitchen,” you explain while handing him back the makeshift ice pack.

As you return to the kitchen, your emotions surge. The stress of the day, the fear of getting caught, and the concern for Heeseung all swirl within you. The quaint charm of the kitchen feels oddly juxtaposed with the turmoil in your heart. You glance up at the open cupboards and see the dark green box with the white cross on the high shelf, allowing you to let out a small sigh of relief.

Reaching for it, you accidentally knock over a ceramic mug, the crash echoing through the empty house. Your heart skips a beat, your nerves on edge. You freeze, listening intently for any signs that the noise might have somehow alerted someone of you and Heeseung’s presence, as if the fact that they would magically appear. After a tense moment of silence, you grab the first aid kit and hurry back to Heeseung.

You find him where you left him, his eyes closed as he tries to manage the pain. Standing in front of him, you open the kit and lay out the supplies on a side table which holds home to a lamp and a forgotten ashtray. The sight of the sterile bandages and antiseptic wipes brings a sense of purpose, a clear task to focus on.

Ripping open the wipe, you reach to bring Heeseung’s hand, which holds the compress, away from his head and take it from him. “This might sting a little,” you warn him as you carefully clean the wound to stop infection. Heeseung winces but never complains, knowing the more he fights it, the longer it is prolonged.

You work quickly but gently, still focusing on not applying too much pressure in case you aggravate it further. Heeseung’s eyes are focused on your face, causing you to become slightly flustered. The idea of someone watching you do something suddenly makes the task ten times harder to achieve. Your heart races, a mix of concentration and self-consciousness, the weight of his gaze adding an unexpected layer of intensity to the moment.

Heeseung smiles softly as he trains himself on you, his hands settling on your waist and pulling you closer to him. It might be the pills or the fuzziness from the head injury, but he suddenly doesn’t feel anxious to initiate the first move; it could also be that his head was between your legs earlier today.

The touch of his large hands on your waist and the feeling of his thumb stroking your hips pauses your movements, the butterflies in your chest being the only thing you can focus on. The room is silent except for the faint ticking of an old clock on the wall, each second stretching into an eternity.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rumble that sends a cluster of goosebumps over your neck and arms. His gratitude is sincere, but it brings a pang of guilt to your heart.

“Don’t thank me,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “All of this is my fault.” The weight of your words hangs in the air, a heavy cloud of regret and self-reproach.

Heeseung’s grip on your waist tightens slightly as he pulls you even closer, his hands steadying you. He cradles your face with one hand, his thumb brushing away a tear that you hadn’t realised had fallen. “No, it’s not,” he says firmly, shaking his head. His touch is gentle, his eyes filled with an intensity that makes your breath catch. “None of this is your fault.”

The room around you fades away; the only thing that exists is the space between you and Heeseung. You apply a sterile gauze pad, securing it with medical tape. Your fingers brush against his skin, sending a jolt through both of you. Every touch, every movement, feels charged with electricity, the air between you vibrating with unspoken tension.

Although Heeseung’s words should inject some reassurance into your conscience, you can’t help but think about what the media is saying about you. The thought of being labelled the "Brixton Killer" adds a whole new layer to the guilt that sits at the forefront of your mind.

Heeseung can see your mind leaping over all his affirmations like a horse at the national, causing him to pout and grab your chin. “No.”

“No?” you ask quizzically.

“No. Your brain is telling you something that isn’t true. Whatever you think you should feel guilty for, just know that you shouldn’t.”

Sucking in your bottom lip and tensing your jaw, you try your hardest to clean the blood up, hands shaking as you place the gauze on his wound and seal it tightly with medical tape. It’s hard to believe him when you’re looking at an open wound, the butterfly effect of your client attacking you.

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice a perfect harmony of pain and something deeper. Taking the medical supplies from your hand, he discards them to the side before intertwining his fingers with yours. “You’re not to blame for any of this. I have told you this a million times, and I’ll tell you a million more. You and me are in this together.”

His words hang in the air, a solemn promise that cuts through your self-doubt. Before you can respond, Heeseung leans in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss is gentle, a delicate reassurance that punctuates his sentences. It’s a kiss that says more than words ever could, a tender moment that steals away your fears and replaces them with a warmth that spreads through your chest.

When he pulls back, your thoughts are momentarily silenced by the softness of his kiss. “You know, you’re a good kisser,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the gravity of the situation.

Heeseung chuckles, the sound light and comforting. “I had a good teacher,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. He has come a long way from first meeting you and he can’t thank you enough for never ridiculing him, showing him soft bouts of affection and lust that have helped him become stronger and more courageous to do what he wants.

You laugh, the tension easing from your shoulders. “You’re ridiculous.” His attempts to shift the mood from depressing to comfortable working instantly.

“Maybe,” he admits, squeezing your hand gently. “But if I can make you smile, it’s worth it.”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, the weight of your guilt and fear lifting slightly. The warmth of his touch, the softness of his kiss, and the sincerity in his eyes all work together to create a cocoon of safety.

Placing a final peck on your lips, Heeseung stands up and towers over you once again. “Do you think it’s safe to stay here? Just for tonight?” he asks with genuine curiosity, already hoping you’ll give him the much-desired answer of ‘yes’.

But the truth is, you don’t know. If you found this place easily, then the police could find it in an instant. There are so many traces of you that you’ve left behind: the bags on the bus, footprints in the mud and leaves, and also Heeseung’s blood at the park. If they really wanted to find you, they could.

Yet, as you look into Heeseung’s sparkling eyes, the ones that are thinking about a warm bed to spend the night in, you don’t have the heart to be honest. So you do what you think is best and fluff the question. “I think, yeah, we can, as long as we stay on alert.”

Agreeing, Heeseung smiles down at you, his joints already celebrating the prospect of a clean bed to lay on. “We’ll keep an ear out, but right now, all I want is to lie down.”

He takes your hand, pulling you gently upstairs, his steps cautious yet eager. The wooden stairs creak softly under your weight, each step resonating in the quiet house. As you reach the top, you find yourselves in a narrow hallway adorned with faded family photos and antique furniture. The atmosphere is homely and lived-in, the kind of place that feels like it has been loved and cared for over many years.

Heeseung pushes open the first door on the right, revealing a cosy bedroom. The room is small but inviting, with a large bed covered in a patchwork quilt, flanked by mismatched nightstands. The wallpaper, though slightly peeling in places, features delicate floral patterns that add to the room’s calm aesthetic. A well-worn armchair sits in one corner, next to a small bookshelf filled with old, dog-eared paperbacks.

“This will do,” Heeseung says with a contented sigh, letting go of your hand to sit on the edge of the bed. He bounces slightly, testing the mattress, and his face lights up with approval. “Oh, fuck yeah, this will definitely do.” He feels like Goldilocks when she finds the children’s bed, claiming it as her own.

“I’m going to shower,” you tell him, needing a moment to yourself. The events of the day have left you feeling grimy and in desperate need of some semblance of normalcy. Each time you’ve snuck into a motel the shower has been all but appealing with dirty water and rust; this is your chance to take a long, well-earned shower with hopefully some fancy soaps. 

You begin rummaging through the drawers of an old dresser in the corner, hoping to find something to wear for the night. To your surprise, among the neatly folded clothes, you find a set of lingerie, delicate and decidedly out of place in such a homely setting. The white silky fabric and intricate lace make it clear that this was a special purchase, perhaps a forgotten remnant of a romantic getaway. You search through the drawers again, but it seems to be the only sleepwear available.

You hold up the lingerie, raising an eyebrow at the unexpected find. Heeseung glances over, curiosity piqued by your hesitation. “What’s that?” he asks, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips when he sees the garment.

“Apparently, this is all they have for pyjamas,” you reply, your tone laced with amusement.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in actual pyjamas before, it’s like the world just wants you naked all the time.” The comment causes you both to laugh, each chuckle echoing along the patterned walls.

Turning to him, you cross your arms and arch a brow. “I think you are the only man to complain about it,” you snicker, jesting him with a slight punch of feigned hurt.

Your response makes Heeseung’s face drop, his eyelids expanding in horror. “No, no. Trust me, I’ll never complain about it. It’s just funny how it always happens like this.” His voice is earnest, and it’s cute how quickly he defends himself, scared to offend you in any way.

Waving him off, you turn back and shut the drawer, walking over to the ensuite toilet.

The bathroom is small but functional, with a clawfoot tub and a pedestal sink. The tiles are cool underfoot, and you quickly strip out of your dirty clothes, turning on the water and waiting for it to warm up. As you step under the stream, the hot water cascades over you, washing away the grime and stress of the day. You close your eyes, letting the soothing sensation calm your racing thoughts.

Back in the bedroom, Heeseung is changing into some boxers he has managed to find. They are the complete opposite of your sexy two-piece. Instead, his borrowed pyjamas are bright blue, adorned with Homer Simpson’s face and Duff beer cans. He wonders who on earth would ever purchase these never mind wear them. 

As he settles into the bed, the world outside seems distant, the immediate crisis giving way to a fragile peace. The relief from the co-codomol and the springy mattress help him alleviate some of his pain.

Heeseung reaches for the remote control on the nightstand and switches on the TV. The soft glow of the screen illuminates the room, casting flickering shadows on the walls. He flips through the channels aimlessly, searching for something to distract you both from the day's events. Just as he’s about to turn it off, a familiar face appears on the screen, stopping him cold.

It’s Jongseong, sitting in what looks like a studio set-up for a news interview. The lower third of the screen reads, "Friend of Fugitive Lee Heeseung, Park Jongseong, Speaks."

Heeseung’s breath catches in his throat, and he feels the tension ripple through his body. His eyes are glued to the screen, his expression a mix of surprise, fear, and a deep, aching sadness. 

“Jongseong?” he whispers, barely audible. He misses his best friend so much that even seeing him through the television is enough to have his soul shiver in sadness. It was one thing to think about him, it’s another to see him.

On the screen, Jongseong looks tired and worn, dark circles under his eyes betraying his sleepless nights. Heeseung can’t imagine the stress this whole situation has caused his best friend, everyone in the entire scheme knowing about their lifelong bond. Jongseong must have endured so much scrutiny once the news broke out. 

He takes a deep breath before speaking, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. “I’ve known Heeseung for all of my life,” Jongseong begins, his gaze unwavering as he faces the camera. “He’s not a criminal. He’s the most kind-hearted, loyal, and genuine person I’ve ever met. Anyone who truly knows him would say the same.”

Heeseung’s eyes well up with tears, the raw vulnerability in Jongseong’s words piercing through his defences. He swallows hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. This must be what the man that held him at gunpoint meant; his friends and family fighting to tell the world that he isn’t a murderer.

Jongseong continues, his voice cracking slightly. “I miss him. Every day that he’s gone, it feels like a part of me is missing too. If he’s out there, if he can hear this, I want him to know that he’s not alone. We’re all here, waiting for him to come home. And we know... we all know that Y/N is the cause of this.” The refusal to believe he is dead evident in his tone.

In that last sentence, Heeseung’s chest feels like a boulder is being pressed onto it, the air escaping his lungs despite just taking a deep breath. He can’t believe your beautiful name just fell from Jongseong’s lips with such disgust. He feels nauseous that it is his family who are tarnishing your name, giving the media their headlines and false accusations.

You have no one sticking up for you so you’re being painted as this venomous spider that prays on men without so much as a second glance. And yet, you couldn’t have a bigger heart if you tried.

The care you have given Heeseung, the cosmic connection between you is enough to solidify his thoughts. Just as it was back at the theme park, he doesn’t believe any bad word about you, and he’ll be damned if he starts now. You aren’t going to kill him, you aren’t going to betray him, and you certainly aren’t a criminal mastermind who plots murder.

“I don’t believe for a second that Heeseung is guilty of anything other than being dragged along in a scheme,” Jongseong says, his voice gaining strength. “Heeseung, if you’re listening, please come back. If you turn her in then all of this can be over. We miss you, and we need you. I need you.”

The news moves on swiftly to the next article but it isn’t so easy for Heeseung. He would never throw you to the wolves to save himself, not a chance in hell is he ever leaving you, not under any circumstances. When he told you that it was you and him together, he meant it with every crevice of his heart.

He hears the shower turn off and it jolts him to attention, suddenly flicks the channel as though he would get caught watching porn, or worse, Hollyoaks. The TV ends up on some gameshow where contestants try and get money by answering truth or false questions. 

Trying to act natural, Heeseung pats the area of his heart in an attempt to tame its brisk beats, not alerting you to anything he just saw. Considering you already believe that the entirety of this situation is your fault as if Heeseung also didn’t swing the finishing blow to the man’s head, the last thing he wants you to see is someone bashing your name to millions of viewers. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, you are wearing the lingerie you found and the sight of your frame prettily decorated in white causes Heeseung to swallow hard. It’s astonishing to Heeseung how you don’t even register how insanely beautiful you look right now, that look on your face puzzled as you walk towards the bed.

"What is it?" you question, slipping beneath the blankets and snuggling up next to the stupefied boy. “You’ve seen me like this lots of times.”

It’s true, he has, so he shouldn’t be so astonished that you look like Aphrodite’s spawn. Something about being able to appreciate you for every curve and stretch mark in a calm setting is enough to have him gawking like it’s the first time seeing you. 

“Yeah, you just look so…angelic in white,” he confesses, now regretting changing into the Simpson boxers; not quite as elegant.

You tuck into his side, lifting one leg over his to get comfortable, your head resting softly on his rising chest. It’s not uncommon for you to lie like this, the nights you’ve spent together often end up with you like this, trying to gain heat from one another's body as the midnight air sets in.

But now you have no excuse, this is purely for the reason to stick close to him, to feel him under you. His presence has turned into your security blanket, the one thing you need to fall asleep and forget about the problems you face.

Inhaling sharply, you watch the TV but never register its contents, your mind preoccupied. “We need a plan, Heeseung,” you murmur, your breath hitting his abs gently as he rubs your arm. “We’re going to be locked up if we’re not careful.”

Heeseung knows this, as much as Jongseong might think that coming home and handing both of you in will somehow get him off the hook, that’s not how the judicial system works. They’re still going to question him and discuss what happened that unfateful day and he would tell them the truth.

He went to an illegal prostitute, killed a man, and fled. Regardless of the fancy jargon or numerous stories about how it was self-defence, he is still guilty of murder. Plain and simple.

There is an unsettling realisation that he isn’t fit for jail. He can barely walk past a group of chavs without his asshole clenching, so in what world is he equipped to walk into prison, share a cell with a convict, and make it out alive? 

With a heaving chest, he begins to panic and his hand grips your upper arm a little tighter than normal. As you lift your head from his rising and falling chest, you see his eyes widening in realisation. “I can’t go to jail, Y/N.”

Sitting up, you begin to shake your head and refute his thoughts. “Hey, it’s okay, Hee,” you whisper, hand cradling his face with affection and assurance, “We will find a way out, I promise. After all, we’ve gotten this far.”

Your voice is unable to sound too convinced, not with the sirens haunting echoes still fresh in your mind. You know you got lucky today, escaping the law by the skin of your teeth and there are only so many chances you can have like this before the inevitable shackles of prison make their presence known around your wrists.

Heeseung isn’t listening to you, the shake of his head batting away any comforting words that spill from your mouth. “I can’t go, Y/N. They will smell the loser off me. I’m a virgin for fucks sake, they’ll notice it in a minute!” His voice is raised, eyes darting around as his brain conjures up worst-case scenarios, all of which terrify the man.

Shushing him, you try to draw his focus back to you, eyes searching into his for a chance to snag him. “Listen to me, you are not going to prison-”

“Oh course we fucking will, Y/N! You heard how many sirens were after us, not to mention they’ve probably brought extra men to help get that psycho with a gun. We are fucked.”

His interruption mixed with the change in vocabulary from ‘I’ to ‘we’ makes your own brain pulse in panic. You can sugarcoat it and tell yourself lies all you want but the fact of the matter is that there is a higher chance of getting caught than escaping. His outburst leaves you momentarily speechless, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The air feels thick with dread, every second ticking by amplifying the weight of your predicament. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm for both your sakes.

There isn’t anything you can do, Heeseung’s concerns are all valid and very much real. He isn’t meant for prison life and they will pick on him straight away. You would be okay, thinking about the years of building yourself a thick skin and strong backbone, but Heeseung is just finding his confidence, all of it will disappear as soon as he adorns the navy trousers and grey sweatshirt that bunch him with the other inmates. 

However, there is one thing you can do for him if not grant his freedom.

“Then…” you bite your lip and pinch the tips of your fingers in contemplation. “Let’s make sure you don’t go to prison a virgin.”

The words reach the panicked boy’s ears, rendering him speechless. He didn’t mean his earlier words literally, but the offer hangs in the air, a tangible and teasing proposition. He stares at you, processing the unexpected proposition, his mind momentarily distracted from the terror that gripped him.

“You don’t have to do that,” he finally whispers, his voice trembling but touched with a hint of gratitude. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just…” He trails off, his voice faltering.

Climbing onto his lap, you push the covers back and settle atop him, the thin lace and cotton of your underwear providing only a minimal barrier. Your legs trap his sides as you pull him to sit up slightly, his face now angled to meet your empathetic yet lust-filled gaze.

“If we are going to jail, whether it’s in the next week, month, or year, let’s at least spend one night that we’ll remember,” you suggest gently, your voice a mix of compassion and desire.

Heeseung’s eyes widen slightly, his breath catching as he processes your words. “But... are you sure?” he asks, his hands hesitantly resting on your hips. This, of course, isn’t your first time, but he doesn’t want you to feel obligated to do anything or force you into this because of a stupid fear he has.

You nod, your expression softening. “I’m sure. I want you so badly, Heeseung if you’ll let me?” The question comes off shy despite your hands rubbing his chest and shoulders in a subtle attempt to get him to say yes.

Heeseung's eyes soften, his reluctance giving way to a tentative smile. “I want you too,” he murmurs, his hands tightening slightly on your hips, his fingers creating indents in your skin.

When he first came to you, he just wanted to get fucked and have it over and done with, but now that he knows you and your heart, he doesn’t see it as a conquest he must defeat in honour to progress into adulthood. No, now he sees it as giving himself to the one person he worships, the journey you have both been on finally giving him the clarity to understand what he wants. You.

Although he made a point to express his concerns about being a virgin in prison, he didn’t really mean it the way you took it. Sure, it’s a worry for him, but prison is in general. Deep in his heart, he knows that the real cause of his worry is the fact that he could go his whole life without ever giving himself to you completely, never knowing what you feel like or how your bodies move with one another. You are the romance-induced first time he has been saving himself for and he can’t believe it’s about to happen.

You lean in, your lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss. It starts gentle, a soft melding of mouths that slowly deepens as Heeseung responds, his hesitation melting away. Your tongues meet, exploring each other with a mixture of curiosity and growing desire. The kiss intensifies, becoming more urgent, and more demanding, as the need for closeness overwhelms you both.

Heeseung's hands slide from your hips to your back, fingers dancing along your spine. He fumbles slightly, his nervousness evident as he tries to unhook your bra. You smile against his lips, reaching back to help him unclasp it and let it fall away, revealing your breasts. His eyes widen, a mixture of awe and uncertainty as he takes in the sight of you.

God, has he missed these tits. 

“Do what you want Heeseung. I’m yours for tonight,” you whisper into his mouth as you ghost your lips over his, the lack of contact only causing him to whimper out.

Heeseung swallows hard as he uses his hands to massage your breasts, littering them with gentle kisses. His touch tentative but growing bolder as you encourage him. Your fingers find the waistband of his selected underwear and you giggle as you finally take in the sight of them. Embarrassed but determined, Heeseung lifts his hips, allowing you to pull his comical boxers down in one swift motion, freeing his erection.

You shift slightly, positioning yourself to straddle him more comfortably. The thin barrier of your lace panties feels almost painfully teasing against his hardness. One of Heeseung’s hands moves to your waist, his touch both gentle and possessive as he helps you slide your panties down your legs, his other hand rubbing his thumb over your nipple like it was a button on his much beloved Sega Mega Drive. 

You kick them aside, fully naked now, and press yourself against him. Heeseung’s breath hitches as your bodies align, his erection pressing insistently against your wet folds. You kiss him again, more fervently this time, your tongues tangling as the intensity between you builds.

One of Heeseung’s hands slides between your legs, fingers parting your folds and finding your clit. He rubs slow, deliberate circles, drawing a moan from your lips. You break the kiss, resting your forehead against his as you pant softly, your hips rocking into his hand.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly with a hint od desperation as he seeks your approval.

“Just like that,” you murmur, guiding his hand to the right spot, helping the virgin out just slightly. “Keep going.”

His fingers trail lower with your guidance, teasing your entrance before one slips inside, eliciting a shuddering gasp from you. He moves with exquisite slowness, each thrust of his finger deliberate and careful, as if savouring the feeling of you around him. 

You can’t see it due to your eyes closing and losing yourself to his touch but he is holding in his breath, all the new feelings and sensation beginning to overwhelm his senses. It was one thing to see a vagina in the flesh, his mouth tasting you so deliciously only hours before, but for any of his body to be inside of you, even his fingers, might send him into overdrive. It’s warm and not what he was really expecting, though, he didn’t go in with much of a clue to begin with.

If there is one thing books and porn have taught him it’s to start slow and work his way up to thrusting his fingers into you with verocity. He feels around, exploring you and your walls to gage a reaction. In some cases you wince from a shot of uncomfort, other times you let out a low moan followed by an array of profantities. 

Once he finds his rhythm and is confident enough, he adds a second finger, curling them slightly to press against that sweet spot inside you, his palm pressing against your clit. Instinctively, you grip his shoulders and begin to ride his hand, using him to chase your release.

“Fuck,” your breath comes in ragged gasps as he works you closer to the edge. The pressure builds steadily, a coil of heat tightening in your belly with each stroke of his fingers. Your hips move of their own accord, seeking more of the delicious friction he provides. “Heeseung,” you moan, your voice trembling with need. “I’m close…”

He looks up at you, eyes filled with a mixture of concern and desire. “What should I do?” he asks, his voice shaking. 

“Faster,” you urge, guiding his hand with yours. “Just a little faster.”

Heeseung follows your instructions, increasing the pace of his fingers and pressing more firmly against your clit. The knot inside you tightens further, until it snaps, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You cry out, your body trembling as the orgasm washes over you, gripping his shoulders for support.

Heeseung watches you with a blend of awe and desire, his fingers slowing but not stopping as he helps you ride out the aftershocks. When you finally come down from the high, you collapse against him, your breath coming in shallow pants.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers, realising that you’ve come undone thanks to him for the second time that day, his inexperience never being the hinder that he once thought it was. This orgasm was a little more shattering to your body though, the desperation in your subtle grabs to his skin telling him that you were taken to heaven and back and desperately seeking more.

You kiss him again, softer this time, a tender meeting of lips as you both savour the intimacy of the moment. But the need for more still burns within you, and you can feel Heeseung’s erection pressing insistently against your thigh.

Without breaking the kiss, you lift your hips, reaching down to guide him to your entrance. “Let me take care of you,” you whisper, positioning him at your entrance. “Are you ready?”

Heeseung nods, his breath hitching in his throat as his Adam’s apple bobs with the swallow of dry air. This is it, he is finally losing his v-card, and to someone he cares so deeply about. You will never understand the rush of emotions coursing through him as you hover over his length, waiting for consent to take him. You are about to give him his dream, the one he harbors in his heart; not losing his virginity, but being in love.

He thought it before but now it’s so clear to him. All this time you’ve spent with one another, each late-night conversation, opening up to one another in ways only lovers do, and the constant tension of something more underneath the surface level partners in crime you often refer yourselves as. It was all a timeline to falling in love. He doesn’t know if you feel the same, perhaps it’s too fast for you and it’s just his innocent heart that is jumping the gun, but he is so sure of his feelings towards you.

There is no one else in the universe he would rather lose his virginity to.

“I’m ready,” he utters, the thumping in his ears caused by his ear creating a backing track to his confirmation. “I’m so ready, Y/N.” The gleam of pride in his eyes takes you aback for a moment, the words kissing your heart with trust. “Do you have a condom?” 

“No,” you pant out in regret and irritation, the conversation prolonging the feeling of his shaft plugging your pussy up so beautifully. “But I got the implant when I started doing this as an extra precaution, just in case the condom didn’t work.” 

The explanation puts the boy at ease, knowing that there is no need to worry about adding a baby to this madness of a predicament you’re in. Nodding, he silently tells you that he is okay to go once again, inhaling deeply as you line him up with purpose.

As you slowly sink down onto him, both of you gasp at the sensation. You move with deliberate slowness, allowing your bodies to adjust to the feeling of being so intimately joined. Heeseung has never felt something so incredible in his life. Your walls are stretching in real time around him, accommodating his thick size with ease, your juices from earlier acting as a natural lubricant.

Heeseung’s eyes flutter shut, a soft moan escaping his lips as he feels you envelop him inch by inch. Every nerve ending in his body is alight with sensation, the warmth and tightness of you overwhelming his senses. His hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he tries to steady himself against the flood of pleasure.

“Y/N,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper, filled with awe and disbelief.

You smile down at him, your own breaths coming in shallow pants. “You feel so good, Heeseung,” you murmur, your voice husky with desire. You feel honoured to be the first cunt wrapped around the boy’s cock, the feeling of him invading your tight hole and the way his prominent veins add another layer to the pleasure is outstanding causes your eyes to roll back.

It’s not like you haven’t had a cock like Heeseung’s before but for some inexplicable reason, his is erasing every feeling of the others. If this did happen on that fateful first meeting, you wouldn’t have charged him at all, the pleasure you are feeling right now would be enough of a payment.

Heeseung’s breath catches in his throat as you begin to move, a slow rhythm that sends shivers of pleasure up his spine. Each movement is deliberate, a dance of passion and trust as you guide him through this new experience. Your hips grind against his, making his cock rock inside you, each movement sending waves of sensation through both of you.

“How does it feel?” you ask, your voice a seductive purr as you continue to ride him.

Grunting at your movements, Heeseung quickly nods, his eyes wide with an overwhelmed sensation. “Fucking unreal,” he manages to choke out, his voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. He has to apologise to his teenage self for denying him this simple pleasure while his friends were getting their socks rocked.

Your lips curve into a satisfied smile at his response, your fingers splaying across his pecks as you bounce rhythmically on his cock. “I’m glad,” you murmur, your voice dripping with sensuality. “You feel amazing, Heeseung.”

Heeseung moans softly as he tries to keep up with your pace, bucking his hips sloppily, becoming erratic and lacking a consistent pace - not that you mind, you don’t expect him to be fucking you with the skill of a pornstar. The main thing is that he is enjoying it, and by the strangled whimpers and ‘fucking hell’ that leaves his lips every other second, you’re assured that he is.

But this is about teaching him and letting him learn the art of fucking. “Heeseung,” you whisper, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I want you to do something for me.”

Heeseung’s gaze is filled with trust and anticipation. “Anything,” he breathes.

“Let me guide you,” you say softly, your hands moving to cup his face. “Follow my lead, okay?”

Heeseung nods, his eyes wide with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. “Okay,” he agrees, his voice trembling slightly.

You start to move again, slower this time, your hips setting a steady rhythm. “Match my pace,” you instruct, your voice gentle but firm.

Heeseung tries to follow your movements, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. At first, his rhythm is clumsy, his thrusts too quick or too slow. You can feel his frustration building, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he struggles to find the right pace.

“Relax, Heeseung,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss him softly, instilling reassurance into him that taking his time to learn isn’t going to ruin the moment. “You’re doing great. Just feel it.”

Heeseung takes a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. He concentrates on your rhythm, his body gradually finding a better sync with yours. The clumsiness begins to fade, replaced by a more confident and deliberate movement.

“That’s it,” you encourage, your voice a breathy moan as you feel him moving more smoothly inside you. “Just like that, fuck.” You drop your head as the tip of his cock hits just the right spot, kissing your cervix tenderly.

Heeseung’s eyes light up with a mix of relief and pleasure as he hears your words. His hands move to your waist, guiding you as you ride him, his thrusts becoming more confident and sure. The sensation of him filling you with each thrust sends waves of pleasure through your body, your moans growing louder with each movement.

Every thrust brings a gasp or a moan from him, his body responding eagerly to your touch. He feels a mix of sensations - pleasure, awe, a hint of disbelief that he’s finally experiencing this with you. You lean down, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing together in sync with the rhythm of your bodies. Heeseung kisses you back with equal fervour, his need for you evident in every touch and every movement. 

“I never imagined it could feel like this,” he admits between kisses, his voice rough with desire. “Being with you, it’s everything.”

Your heart swells with affection as you feel him opening up, allowing himself to be vulnerable with you in this intimate moment. You continue to move, your hips rolling against his in a steady, hypnotic rhythm. The room is filled with the sounds of your combined breaths, the slick slide of your bodies, and the soft, wet noises of your connection.

“You feel so good,” you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him harder. “So, fucking perfect.”

Heeseung’s breath hitches, a whimper escaping his lips at your words. If he wasn’t lost in the feeling, he would ask if he was being a good boy. His eyes lock onto yours, a mixture of awe and desperation in his gaze. He can feel himself getting closer, the tight coil of pleasure in his belly winding tighter with each thrust. His hands roam over your body, one moving to your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple, sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you.

Feeling a surge of confidence and an overwhelming urge to please, Heeseung leans forward, his lips parting as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. The sensation is electrifying, a new layer of intimacy that sends shivers down your spine. His mouth is warm and eager, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before sucking gently. He hums around your nipple, the vibration adding to the pleasure that courses through your body.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, your head falling back as you give in to the sensation. Your fingers thread through his hair, holding him close as he continues his ministrations.

Heeseung’s thoughts are a whirl of sensation and desire. He’s hyper-aware of every reaction he elicits from you, the way your body responds to his touch, the sounds you make as he lavishes attention on your nipple. He’s never felt anything so intimate, so deeply connected, and it drives him to please you even more.

His tongue flicks over your nipple before he sucks it back into his mouth, his lips creating a tight seal. He alternates between gentle sucks and firmer pulls, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh just enough to make you gasp. The sensation is a perfect blend of pleasure and a hint of pain, heightening your arousal to an almost unbearable level.

Heeseung’s free hand moves to your clit, clumsily finding it after a few seconds to give it some well-deserved attention. The dual sensations make your hips move more urgently, grinding down onto him as your climax approaches.

“Y/N, I’m so close,” he moans against your breast, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He didn’t want to bust a nut quickly and has been holding back as long as he can, determined to make sure this was a good experience for you.

“Me too,” you whisper, your own climax building with every movement. “Don’t hold back, Heeseung. Let go with me.”

With a final, powerful thrust, Heeseung cries out, his body tensing beneath you as he finds his release. The sensation of him pulsing inside you triggers your own climax, and you cry out his name as waves of pleasure crash over you. You collapse against his chest, both of you trembling as you ride out the aftershocks together.

As the intensity of the moment fades, you lie there in each other’s arms, your breaths gradually slowing. Heeseung holds you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively as you both savour the aftermath of your passion. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and sex, but also with a newfound sense of closeness and adoration.

Looking up at him, you smile lazily, tiredness taking over your limbs from the excitement of today and the fucking. “Well, how does not being a virgin anymore feel?”

“It feels,” he pauses, gathering his thoughts as they fight through his post-orgasm haze, “fucking unbelievable.” Heeseung places a soft kiss on your sweaty forehead and inhales your scent, enveloping his senses with you. His gestures are so loving and tender that you feel a ping in your heart, the same kind that you get when you eat your favourite meal or hear the song that gives you butterflies when it comes on the radio.

It feels like home.

“Thank you for letting me be your first,” you pout, kissing his sticky chest. Your lips press against the salty sheen of sweat on his skin, the taste mingling with the lingering sweetness of the moment.

Heeseung’s heart swells at your words, his eyes softening as he looks down at you. “I should be thanking you, Y/N. I am so happy that it was you I had this experience with.” His admission is heartfelt and pure, his voice trembling slightly with emotion.

You can see the depth of his feelings in his eyes, the way they shine with awe and adoration. It’s a look that makes your own heart flutter, the connection between you feeling even more profound in the aftermath of your intimacy. 

Feeling safe and secure despite circumstances that loom on the horizon, you lay your head back on his chest, settling in for the night. You don’t want to move, your body is too spent to care about peeing or your dead weight is making Heeseung uncomfortable. None of it mattered as sleep pulls you in.

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah…”

“I love you.”

Your heavy breathing fills the room, indicating your lulled state. He doesn’t know if you heard his confession but Heeseung doesn’t mind, he just had to get it off his chest, never wishing to keep his feelings from you ever.

“Good night, baby,” the nickname escapes his lips but it feels so right, everything about this moment feels right. Heeseung’s fingers trace lazy patterns on your back as he closes his eyes with a smile on his face, his heart relaxed for the first time in weeks.

He wishes every day could be as good as this one.

_____

Startled awake by an incessant crowing outside the bedroom window, Heeseung jerks up, his body relaxed but his mind still on semi-high alert. The sun's early morning rays filter through the thin, floral curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the quaint cottage bedroom. Dust particles float lazily in the warm light, adding a touch of magic to the peaceful scene. This is the best night’s sleep he has had, not just since you two began this wild chase, but in the past few years. The bed is a cosy nest of crumpled sheets and soft blankets, the scent of last night's intimacy lingering in the air.

Heeseung stretches, feeling the pleasant ache of spent passion in his muscles - even his head feels a million times better after the beating it took yesterday. His heart swells with a mix of pride and joy as he recalls the events of the night before. Losing his virginity this way wasn’t what he expected, but it was everything he wanted. There was a raw, unspoken connection between you both, an intimacy that transcended mere physicality.

Your heart was in it; he could feel it in the way you whispered affection and clawed at his body. There's a pride swelling within him, knowing there’s a high probability that this is the first time you’ve had sex that wasn’t just for survival or a quick cash grab. Last night was different - there was love between you, plain and simple. You didn’t have to say it or even hear his confession to know what it was. The way you both kissed one another as if the world meant nothing when you had each other, the way your bodies connected in a manner some lovers could only dream of.

Heeseung wishes that all of this were under different circumstances, as he always has, but something tells him that, in some whacked-out way, the universe would have put you together no matter what. The room around him is a testament to simpler times, with its rustic wooden furniture, a small dresser topped with a chipped vase of wildflowers, and a single, worn armchair in the corner. 

Turning his upper body to look at you sleeping, the serenity in his chest quickly vanishes and panic arises from the pit of his stomach. You aren’t there lying peacefully, basking in the morning sun like you should be.

His heart bumps against his rib cage as his mind settles on the worst possible scenario. Frantic, Heeseung clambers around the room, searching for any clue as to where you could have gone. In motels you’ve previously visited, you always left a note to say you’d gone to grab some food or ice, but this time there is nothing but a few strands of your hair decorating the pillow where your head should still be resting.

Rolling off the bed, Heeseung quickly grabs his boxers and puts them on, making his way around the house in search of you. The cottage bedroom, once a sanctuary, now feels ominous and empty. He glances around, his eyes darting over the rustic wooden furniture and the small dresser topped with a chipped vase of wildflowers. The morning sun, which had moments ago seemed warm and inviting, now casts long, eerie shadows.

“Y/N?” he shouts loudly, enough to wake every bird and hibernating bats in the vicinity. His voice echoes through the small cottage, mingling with the distant crowing of the rooster.

His mind races with terrifying possibilities. He thinks about how you could have been snatched in the night, but that doesn’t make sense—he would have felt that or heard you scream. Maybe you went for some fresh air and got caught by the police; they might have snuck up on you and cuffed you right there and then. But wouldn’t they have raided the cottage for him too?

Then his face pales, and he stops in his tracks. What if that psycho got a hold of you? He ran in the opposite direction, but that doesn’t mean the psycho couldn’t have made his way in a circle right to this house. What if he had the same idea and wanted to camp out here, and you just happened to be in the kitchen making some tea when he found you? What if he…

Sickness forms in Heeseung’s throat as he dashes to the kitchen, trying to dispel the horrific final “what if” from his mind. The cosy cottage now feels like a labyrinth of dread, every creak of the floorboards amplifying his fear.

“Baby?” he yells again, terror ripping through his vocal cords. “Y/N, please answer me.”

The kitchen, with its quaint, mismatched dishes and the faint smell of musk and nostalgia offers no comfort. Heeseung's eyes frantically scan the room, hoping to find you safe and sound, but the emptiness only feeds his growing panic. His breath comes in short, desperate gasps as he clutches the edge of the wooden countertop, his knuckles white with tension.

Y/N!” His voice cracks with despair, echoing through the silent house. Heeseung’s mind is a whirlwind of fear and helplessness, each passing second feeling like an eternity as he waits for any sign of you. The world outside, with its serene sunlight and gentle breeze, seems cruelly indifferent to his agony.

Suddenly, he feels a hand on his arm, and he whips around instantly.

Your face looks up at him with wonder and concern. “Hey, hey. I’m here, Heeseung,” you say calmly, hoping the soft dulcet tone of your voice can reduce the evident panic coursing through his veins.

Instantly, he hugs you tight, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other wraps firmly around your waist. His nose digs into your scalp as his lips press softly against your cranium as if he needs all his senses to be alerted to your sudden appearance - the only way to calm his unsettled heart.

“Heeseung,” you murmur into his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart against your cheek. “What’s wrong, what happened?”

Heeseung doesn’t respond immediately, just holds you tighter, his breath ragged and heavy with relief. The warmth of your body against his, the familiar scent of your skin, and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat begin to soothe the storm inside him. Gradually, the tension in his muscles eases, and his grip loosens just enough to look down into your eyes.

“I thought… I thought something happened to you,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. The morning light highlights the tears glistening in his eyes, a stark contrast to the fear that had consumed him moments before.

You reach up and gently wipe away a tear that has escaped down his cheek. “I’m here. I’m safe,” you reassure him, your fingers lingering on his face. “Nothing bad can happen to me when I’ve got you, yeah?”

Balancing on your tiptoes, you place a tender kiss on his dry lips, trying to instill in him some comfort that you are fine and alive. To be honest, if it were he who had disappeared without a trace, you would probably be in an even worse panic than he is.

The kiss is charged with a cocktail of emotions, lips neatly brushing one another as you both fall into an equanimity that is desperately needed in this moment of uncertainty. The tension around his shoulders fades as he melts into your touch, the fear and anxiety dissipating with each passing second.

Heeseung’s arms tighten around you, pulling you closer as if grounding himself in your presence. The taste of salt from his tears mingles with the warmth of the kiss, creating a poignant mix of relief and love. You feel his breath hitch, then gradually steady, synchronizing with your own.

When you eventually draw back, your foreheads touch. The world outside continues its peaceful morning, the calm wind and soft natural light now serving as a soothing backdrop rather than a harsh contrast.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” you whisper, your breath mingling with his. “I should have left a note like usual but there is not a pen or paper in this house, can you believe it?.”

Heeseung shakes his head slightly, his eyes still closed, savouring the closeness. “No it’s okay, I’m just glad you’re here,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

You smile softly, cupping his face in your hands. “You won’t. We’re in this together, remember?”

Heeseung nods, finally opening his eyes to look into yours. There’s a depth of gratitude and love in his gaze that warms you to your core. “Yeah, together,” he echoes, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “Where did you go?”

Absentmindedly, you reach up to the gauze on his head and peel it off, inspecting the wound as you explain your absence. “I was looking for a route out of here. And to see if the place is still teeming with police.” 

You grab a clean washcloth from the sink and wet it, gently dabbing the dried-in blood away. The gash looks better, although still open, a protective layer of skin is forming over it. It’s fragile and one rough knock could re-open it, but for now, it’s okay. You tell him to wait there while you grab the first aid kit from the sitting area before returning, setting out to apply a new gauze.

Once you clean his wound with the antiseptic wipe, which hurts considerably less than last night, Heeseung speaks up. “And? Is there a way out of this or are the police everywhere?” He isn’t a fan of you going out there on your own but he won’t dwell on it since you’re back here in his arms. His hands settle on your hips as his thumbs stroke your skin, craving contact with you as much as possible.

He doesn’t know if it was the idea of losing you or the sex that makes him crave your skin on his, but he won’t complain either way, and neither will you.

“There are sirens, faint but they are there,” you begin to explain, your voice disheartened, “I think I found a way out though.”

Heeseung’s eyebrows raise and his hands grip your hips slightly, a mix of curiosity and relief. “Oh?”

“Yeah, there is a dock not far from here, maybe about an hour away. It carts goods from Ayr to Dublin around lunchtime, if what I saw was right. We could sneak on it and get the fuck out of the UK, at least until we come up with a solid plan.”

It’s not foolproof and there are more cons than pros, but any minute, the police could come banging on this door and you’re sure as hell going to get caught then.

Heeseung’s shoulders slump as he processes this new information. “It’s risky, but we don’t have many options,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of doubt. Finding none, he nods resolutely. “Alright, let’s do it. But we need to be careful. One slip and it’s over.”

You nod in agreement, your mind already running through the logistics. “We need to move fast and quietly, the only way to the dock is through the woods and that’s exactly where the police are still looking.”

Heeseung gives a small, determined smile, his hands still tracing soothing patterns on your hips. “I’ll follow your lead,” his voice is low and assured. He really does believe there is nothing he can’t do as long as you’re beside him.

As you finish dressing his wound, you can’t help but feel a surge of determination. The bond between you has only grown stronger through this ordeal, and you’re resolved to face whatever comes next side by side. You share a final look, a silent promise to protect each other at all costs, before you start making preparations to leave.

“Okay, let’s go.”

_____

The woods is much easier to navigate in the middle of the day, however, it does make it easier to be spotted.The woods are much easier to navigate in the middle of the day, but the bright sunlight filtering through the canopy also makes it easier for them to be spotted. Heeseung and you move cautiously, stepping over roots and ducking under low-hanging branches, every sense heightened by the urgency of the situation. The dense foliage provides some cover, but the occasional break in the trees sends your hearts racing as you dart across open patches of sunlight.

The forest floor is a mix of damp earth and fallen leaves, each step a muffled crunch that both reassures and unnerves you. Birds chirp overhead, their songs a stark contrast to the tension thrumming through your bodies. The scent of pine and fresh moss fills the air, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of Heeseung’s dried blood.

You take the lead, your eyes scanning the path ahead for any signs of danger. Heeseung follows closely, his hand occasionally brushing against your back, a silent reassurance that he’s right there with you. The two of you communicate through subtle gestures and quiet whispers, knowing that any loud noise could draw unwanted attention.

In the distance, the faint wail of sirens echoes through the trees, a chilling reminder of the police presence. You exchange a worried glance with Heeseung, both of you quickening your pace. The sirens grow louder, a relentless reminder of the danger closing in behind you.

“We need to move faster,” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the rustling leaves.

Heeseung nods, his expression determined. “Stay close.”

The woods stretch out before you like a labyrinth, each turn and twist another gamble. You rely on your instincts, hoping they guide you true. The sun is high now, casting dappled shadows that dance across the forest floor. Sweat beads on your forehead, both from the exertion and the stress of being pursued.

Every so often, you pause to listen, straining to hear any signs of movement behind you. The sirens are still there, but they seem to be moving parallel to your path, not directly toward you. It’s a small relief, but you know you can’t let your guard down.

As you navigate a particularly thick patch of underbrush, you catch sight of a flash of blue through the trees. You freeze, grabbing Heeseung’s arm to stop him. You both crouch low, peering through the foliage. In the distance, you can see police officers moving methodically through the woods, their uniforms stark against the green backdrop.

“Shit,” Heeseung breathes, his grip on your arm tightening.

You nod, your mind racing. “We need to divert. There’s a stream nearby, if we can reach it, we might be able to throw them off our scent.”

Heeseung agrees without hesitation, and you change direction, angling toward where you remember the stream to be. The terrain becomes more challenging, the ground uneven and littered with fallen branches. You navigate as quietly as possible, mindful of every step.

The sound of rushing water grows louder, a hopeful sign that you’re on the right track. The stream appears ahead, a narrow but fast-moving ribbon of water cutting through the forest. You approach it cautiously, checking the area for any signs of the police.

“We’ll follow it downstream for a bit, then cross over,” you suggest, eyeing the opposite bank.

Heeseung nods. “Good plan. Let’s go.”

ou move quickly along the stream’s edge, the cool air off the water a welcome relief against your heated skin. The babble of the stream helps mask the sound of your footsteps, providing a small sense of security. After a few minutes, you find a shallow spot and carefully wade across, the cold water biting at your ankles.

On the other side, you pause to catch your breath, listening intently. The sirens are faint now, almost drowned out by the sound of the stream. It seems the police have moved further away, at least for the moment.

Or so you think.

Unbeknownst to you, two police officers are intently studying the footsteps you’ve left behind, following the trail with determined precision. They move swiftly through the underbrush, their eyes scanning the ground and the surroundings with practised ease.

“Over there!” one officer whispers urgently to his partner. They pick up their pace, pursuing you with renewed determination.

From their vantage point, they catch a glimpse of you and Heeseung through the trees. They see you clasp hands and begin to run, your figures darting through the forest like shadows.

Heeseung and you run up the forest, hearts pounding in sync with your hurried footsteps. Every muscle in your body is screaming for you to stop, but fear propels you forward. The forest becomes a blur of green and brown, the terrain treacherous with roots and fallen branches. You focus on not tripping, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

The officers aren’t as nimble and light on their feet as you two are, and you take every opportunity to duck behind trees and try to lose them amongst the branches and foliage. It’s difficult but you create some distance for a minute, never letting up on your track race speed.

Your heart is beating, blood boiling, and head spinning as your legs move on their own. This is it. You think to yourself about how you made such a great deal last night about knowing you would be caught and how you could accept it. But now that the moment is actually here, you’re terrified.

There isn’t a part of you that is ready to be locked up. You’re so young and this was all a misunderstanding, if you just explained it to them, maybe you could get a light sentence. It’s not your fault that the man came in and tried to choke you to death, you had to set boundaries and that’s more than okay, isn’t it?

But the law won’t see it that way. Of course, they won’t, because to them, you’re lower-class trash. That man was highly respected by his family and peers, and you’re just a lowlife prostitute who ruins marriages. You have never seen yourself that way, but this is exactly how the media are painting you out to be. In their eyes, you’re a villain, a scourge. There is no saving yourself from this.

As you slow down, you see the ground before you vanish, patches of brown and green turning into nothing but air. You’ve hit a dead-end, stuck between the relentless pursuit of the police and a deep, yawning cliff that there is no way down from.

Heeseung, a few steps behind, sees you slow down and quickly catches up, his head shaking violently. “Come on, baby, we need to go,” he urges, his voice filled with panic and desperation. Your stuttering steps finally stop, causing his eyes to widen, wondering why on earth you are pausing in the middle of a high-paced chase.

“We’re trapped.” Your voice trembles, eyes distant as you stare into the abyss of the cliff.

Heeseung’s eyes follow yours, and his heart drops. The cliff before you is a sheer drop, the ground simply vanishing into a void of jagged rocks and certain doom. The wind howls up from the chasm, a stark reminder of the peril you face. Behind you, the sounds of the police grow louder, the shouts and rustling foliage a testament to how close they are.

Heeseung pulls you close, his grip on your hand tightening as if he can tether you to safety through sheer will. The forest around you seems to close in, the trees now silent witnesses to your desperate situation. The sky overhead is a bright blue, mocking you with its serenity while chaos reigns on the ground.

“Maybe…maybe we can climb down,” Heeseung suggests, his voice strained, but even as he says it, he knows how impossible it sounds. The cliff face is almost vertical, with only the slightest hint of a path that could easily crumble underfoot.

You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “There’s no way. We’ll fall.”

Heeseung looks back toward the forest, where the shadows of the police are closing in. Their voices are distinct now, every word a nail in the coffin of your dwindling hope. You can hear the commands faintly, the urgency in their tones as they coordinate their approach.

You move away from the cliff, looking up at your partner. “I’ll hand myself in.” 

Heeseung almost chokes on his shock as he hears your words. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He isn’t one to swear at you, not unless he is truly riddled with dread or panic, the curse words slipping easily into his vocabulary due to the cloud in his brain. Sometimes, it is truly the only way to express himself.

“It should give you some time to run. The dock is like 10 minutes away from here, and the boat leaves in 20 minutes. If you run now-”

The words hang heavy in the air, each syllable echoing with the weight of impending separation. You can see the conflict raging behind Heeseung's eyes, the turmoil of wanting to protect you conflicting with the reality of their dire situation. He hesitates, his hands trembling as they cup your face, the touch both gentle and desperate.

“If you think for a second I’m leaving you behind, you’re delusional, Y/N.” His voice cracks, betraying the raw emotion coursing through him. “After everything you’ve done for me? I am not letting you face this alone.”

Your heart clenches at his words, at the fierce determination in his gaze. Tears well up in both your eyes as you stare at one another, each of your souls clinging to the love that is passing through you. There is a commitment between you that most married couples don’t even have; it’s an honour to be loyal and devoted to one another the way you have been.

“Heeseung, please,” you plead, your voice breaking under the weight of your decision. “If they catch us both, it’s over. At least one of us has to make it. You need to live a free life, not one behind bars.”

Heeseung’s jaw tightens, his resolve hardening even as his heart breaks. “No. We’re in this together, no matter what. I promised you, didn’t I? I promised I’d never leave you.”

His words pierce through the chaos around you, anchoring you in the reality of your love. You reach up, covering his hands with yours, feeling the warmth and strength that has always been there for you.

“Heeseung,” you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and adoration. “You’ve been my everything since I’ve known you. You followed me through all of this and I couldn’t be more grateful. But I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me. Prison isn’t a place for you.”

“And I can’t bear the thought of living without you,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ve fought so hard to stay together, to protect each other. I won’t let it end like this. I don’t care what we have to do, I won’t let them take you away from me.”

He knows deep down that if you both get caught, there is a chance he can escape this if the news last night is anything to go by. Jongseong is painting him in a firmly good light, he could get away with this, possibly make them see his side. 

But what life could he live knowing that you’re rotting away in jail for a crime that was completely justified? He could fight your corner but people would just presume it was stockholm syndrome or something else ridiculous, never understanding that he chose this with you, even after you gave him a million chances to leave.

The sirens grow louder, the policemen’s voices are bellowing through the trees, and the urgency of the situation pressing down on you. But in this moment, it’s just the two of you, locked in a gaze that speaks of endless love and unbreakable bonds.

His mind races to find a way out of this for both of you, running isn’t exactly a viable option anymore, there is nowhere to run or even hide. 

Nuzzling his nose against yours, tears cascade freely from your eyes, the salty liquid mixing with the dampness on his cheeks. This intimate gesture makes Heeseung's heart soar, feeling as though he's falling even deeper for you, if that were even possible. Every atom of his being belongs to you, and the two of you are acutely aware of this truth. Your souls are intertwined, embracing each other as you confront this dire predicament together.

He looks around, the desperation in his eyes mirroring your own. His hands slip from your face but remain in contact, fingertips grazing your skin, as if he's terrified that losing touch will cause you to vanish entirely. Heeseung glances at the precipice once again, a lump forming in his throat, his eyes blinking rapidly as the gravity of their situation becomes undeniable.

"We can't stay here," he murmurs, his voice trembling. The sound of sirens grows louder, the authorities closing in. Heeseung's gaze locks onto yours, a mixture of fear and determination in his eyes. "They'll catch us, and everything we've fought for will be for nothing. I can’t fucking lose you, baby. Not when I just got you."

As his words sink in, a valve of emotions opens up inside of you. Fear, desperation, and an overwhelming love for Heeseung intertwine, making it hard to breathe. You realise in that moment that you can't possibly live without him. The thought of being separated, of living without his presence in prison, is unbearable. He is your anchor, your solace, and the love that sustains you. You’ll crumble from the inside out if you’re not together, the codependency and attachment between you all too real.

Heeseung's fingers tighten around yours, his grip both reassuring and urgent. "There's only one way out," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. He looks back at the cliff, the void below seeming both menacing and oddly inviting. "We jump."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, the enormity of the decision circling both of you. Your heart pounds in your chest, the fear of the unknown mingling with the trust you have in him. Heeseung's eyes search yours, seeking reassurance, hoping you'll understand.

“What? Are you crazy?” you ask nervously, looking at the large drop below you.

The wind howls around you, the cliff's edge crumbling slightly under the pressure of your feet. Heeseung cups your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that continue to fall. "Do you trust me?" he asks, his voice breaking with emotion.

"Yeah, I am, but it's the only way if we want to stay together," he repeats, his voice stronger this time. "If we jump, we have a chance. We'll be free, and no one will be able to separate us."

Of course, this is insantiy. You have known one another all but two weeks and suddenly you're both contemplating dying rather than being seperated by jail cells. So why is your heart beating in agreement?

Your breath shakes as you inhale, your head disagreeing. Not because you don’t trust him, but because you can't bear the thought of Heeseung not breathing at the end of this decision. You couldn’t care less about your own fate, but his life is too precious to waste.

"Heeseung," you whisper, your voice quivering. "I won't let you die. You're too important. The world needs people like you, soft and good." You hiccup a sob as your brain even contemplates the idea. "You’re so, so good, Heeseung."

Heeseung's eyes soften, pain and tenderness illuminating their depths. He presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own in a shared moment of intimacy. “This world isn’t worth living in without you. It doesn’t deserve good people after the cards it dealt us,” he whispers, his voice steady despite the fear that lingers in his eyes.

“I promise you, Y/N, I will find you in every lifetime.”

Those words shatter your heart into pieces. The sincerity in his gaze, the unwavering determination - it’s almost too much to bear. Tears ricochet down your cheeks faster now, mingling with the saltiness of his own.

"Heeseung," you choke out, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't want you to suffer. I can't stand the thought of losing you, even for a moment."

His hands move to cradle your head gently, petting your head, something you’ve come to love with each night spent with him. Often, he would do this to calm you down when you couldn’t sleep, even without asking.

"We won’t lose each other," he says firmly, his voice a lifeline in the storm of emotions. "Not now, not ever. We’ll find a way, no matter what. But right now, we have to take this chance. If not, we’ll never be together again.”

The love that has blossomed between you is so powerful that both of you would rather face death together than be separated. It’s a testament to your commitment, and though it may seem foolish to others, it’s the only choice that feels right. If the alternative is prison and a life without each other, then you would rather take your last breath in each other's arms.

“I never wanted this to happen to you,” you confess, sucking in your lip as you try to keep the last semblance of resolve strong inside of you.

Smiling sadly, Heeseung shakes his head. “Baby, I wouldn’t have this any other way. I found myself through all of this, I got to see the world and take chances, be someone who isn’t scared of literally living their life. You helped me with that, and I wouldn’t trade it for all the stars in the sky.”

You smile back at him, nodding. Your heart understands exactly what he means because watching Heeseung blossom into this confident and headstrong man, something he always wanted to be, is the highest reward both of you could take from this other than the love for each other. You have also grown in ways you never thought possible, letting your vulnerability shine through, and trusting someone with all your chest which would never have happened without him, without this experience.

If you’re going to die now, you’re happy with the person you have become.

Heeseung's grasp on your hands tightens, his eyes filled with ferocious purpose. "We'll jump," he adds, his tone firm and committed. "And whatever happens, I'll meet you on the other side."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the fear of the unknown mingling with the intense adoration you feel for him. Nodding, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the leap. Outstretching your pinky, you hold it to his chest. "Together?" you state, your voice a mixture of resolve and vulnerability.

Heeseung smiles a sad yet determined smile that speaks of a love too deep for words. He grasps your pinky with his, tears welling up in his eyes for the last time; tears of relief and happiness. “Together. Forever.”

He brings your joined fingers to his lips, kissing them gently, a gesture filled with all the love and tenderness he can muster. Stepping closer to the edge, he pulls you with him, his hand never leaving yours. The chasm below yawns wide and dark, dotted with trees and glistening lakes, but in this moment, the bottom holds no fear - only the promise of freedom.

“Heeseung?” your soft voice echoes into the vast horizon.

“Yeah?” he replies, his voice steady and calm.

“I love you, too.”

A tender smile graces his lips. You did hear him last night, his whispered confession reverberating through your dreams, his words and tender touches leaving an indelible mark on your heart.

Heeseung's eyes meet yours, the love and trust between you unbreakable. With a deep breath, you both move closer to the precipice, the ground beneath your feet seems to tremble with anticipation. The authoritative voices are louder now, the world behind you closing in, but none of that matters anymore.

"On three," he says softly, his voice a lifeline. "One... two..."

The final number hangs in the air, a heartbeat away. The world narrows to just the two of you, your hearts beating in unison. With a final, shared breath, you take the leap.

For a moment, everything is weightless. The wind roars past, the ground vanishes beneath your feet, and you are suspended between worlds. Heeseung's hand in yours is the only anchor, a touchstone in the freefall. You glance at him and he does the same, expressions mirroring one another as you face together the inevitable chilling bone crush. You’re happy, in love

And free.

You don’t think about your past with your brother or father, or the brothel, or the man you killed. And Heeseung doesn’t think about his family, or his exams, or the life he left behind. Both of you only think about the short-lived life you shared with one another.

As you plummet into the unknown, you hold onto the promise Heeseung made. No matter where this leap takes you, no matter what lies ahead, you will find each other. In this life, and in every lifetime to come. The vast expanse of the sky, the rush of the wind, and the unyielding grip of Heeseung's hand - this is your freedom, your eternity, your together.

Over the years, you both kept in touch by texting and FaceTiming every day, keeping your friendship as strong as it was the day she moved away.

However, though your bond was strong, you just couldn't get over the fact that you couldn't hug her, see her in person, and go out together like you used to. It killed you, but neither of you could do anything about it, so sadly, you just accepted it.

But now here you both are, just minutes from meeting again, and you couldn't wait. To say you were happy would be an understatement.

You were impatiently waiting outside the school, nearly shaking in excitement. You were nervous but so so happy at the same time.

You texted her the time you arrived, and minutes later, she was running towards you at the gates of your new school. "Y/n!" she shouted your name with the biggest smile on her face as she opened her arms far and wide to give you a big hug.

You giggled when you saw her excitedly running towards you, and you outstretched your arms, engulfing her in a bone-crushing hug while releasing a deep sigh. "It's been so long." As mentioned previously, you both kept in touch over the phone and on FaceTime, but it still didn't beat actually seeing each other in person after so many years apart.

"Too long" you said tightening your grip on her you missed the warmth of her hugs the most especially when you were going through tough times.

"I missed you. There's so much I have to show you," she cheered as she broke the hug. "I have to show you around and show you to classes. Oh, and of course, you have to finally meet all my friends," she clapped excitedly.

"Friends? I thought I was your only friend," you say playfully, nudging her shoulder with yours.

"You're my only best friend," she winked.

"That's more like it." you both linked your arms together, entering the school so she could show you all the ins and outs.

You were shocked, to say the least.

She gave you the full tour like a personal guide, and it was very much appreciated the school was so big that you're sure you would have gotten lost if it wasn't for her showing you around.

It was much nicer than the one you attended and cleaner, too, which wasn't a surprise cause the community was much nicer than your old neighborhood. Not to say your old neighborhood was bad. It just had significantly less income.

She showed you everything on the walk-through, like the bathrooms, the gym, the library, the cafeteria, literally everything.

As you both walk side by side, she suddenly halts and turns to you with a smile on her face after finishing the tour. "So what do you think?"

"It's great. I love it. So much better than my old school. Sorry, not sorry." you both share a laugh together, and you notice your friend suddenly looking behind you. You turn in the direction she's looking in, and you see a boy waving frantically. He looked to be your same age. He had a bright smile on his face. His hair was brown and bouncing up and down as he jogged over to you both.

"Hi, Jake!" Your best friend smiles, and you smile as well. You heard that name in many conversations that you had with her in the past over FaceTime.

"Hey, Yeji," he greets when he finally reaches both of you. He looks at you, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours. Yeji spoke about you, her best friend coming into town this week, so Jake could only surmise you were that best friend cause he hasn't seen you around till now.

You couldn't help but smile back cause his smile was literally so contagious. "Y/n, this is my friend. I talked to you about. Jake and I met as soon as I moved here, and he's been by my side protecting me and showing me the ropes ever since."

"Hi Jake, nice to meet you." you extend your hand for him to shake, and he does gladly.

"You too. I love seeing new faces and making new friends," he says excitedly. You usually weren't good at first meetings, but this went surprisingly smooth, and you could already see yourself growing close to him. He just had a very positive and comfortable vibe about him, and anyone who was a friend of Yeji was a friend of yours.

"Class is about to start soon, but I'll briefly introduce you to all my friends." You nod your head, smiling softly at the thought of meeting her friends finally, she talked so much about them, and they all sounded like great people.

"All the others are just outside. Shall we go see them? We have…" Jake trails off, looking at the timepiece on his wrist. "Just about fifteen minutes before class."

"Perfect." Yeji takes your hand in hers, leading you outside on the front bench where they all usually hang out before class. "Hi everyone," she greets, gathering the attention of the five other people sitting on the bench. "So I have someone I'd like you to meet." They all lift their heads from their phones and notebooks, offering you a kind smile as you look at the many different faces of her friend group. "This is y/n, my long-time bestie that I always talk about. You guys already know, but she's transferring here, and from now on, she's a part of our group," she announces while you three take a seat on the bench together with the rest of them. "So treat her well," she says sternly.

You hear a series of hi's and hellos. "H-hello," you say shyly. "I'm y/n. It's nice to finally meet my friends, friends." Chuckling softly, you lower your head, hiding your shyness or attempting to anyway.

"Likewise, names Jay," a male with silver hair replies with a cool smirk on his face.

"I'm Sunghoon. Nice to meet you," another male says, and you can't help but stare at him for a second longer, or maybe two, because he was absolutely breathtaking.

"I'm Karina." You looked to the left, making eye contact with one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen. Her smile was literally perfect. You nodded slightly, and you're sure you were blushing by now. How come yeji never told you all her friends looked like models.

"Yeonjun," a boy with bright blue hair sitting next to Karina, introduced himself briefly with a small wave, and you smiled politely.

"It's nice to meet all of y-" You were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You immediately got embarrassed because you didn't even notice him at first. To be fair, though, he was seated a little further on the back of the bench, so it wasn't that easy to notice him. Plus, you were still a bit nervous, and making eye contact wasn't a strong point for you at first-time meetings.

"I'm heeseung," he says dryly without bothering to offer you a smile or a wave cause the way you greeted everyone else but just completely ignored him.

"Nice to meet you, heese-" You try to acknowledge him, but he looked so uninterested, and if you're not mistaken, you could have sworn he rolled his eyes before he interrupted you for the second time in less than a minute.

"Class is starting now." He stands up, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, and walking to the entrance all by himself.

"U-uhh, nice meeting you all. I hope we can all get along and become good friends." You finally finished what you were going to say before that heeseung guy rudely interrupted you not once but twice. You don't understand. Everyone else greeted you perfectly fine, but it's almost as if he didn't even want to meet you, which is weird. You couldn't imagine Yeji being friends with someone like that, but you didn't say anything. He was probably just annoyed by something or tired cause, after all, it was still really early morning, plus no one had a reaction to his behavior, so you're sure you were just reading too much into the situation, that's all.

They all gave you a parting smile and packed up their things, following heeseung into the building while you and Yeji did the same. She dropped you off at your first class, wishing you luck and giving you a thumbs up before leaving you by yourself for the first time today.

-

Introducing yourself in class was something you always dreaded, but the way Yeji's friend Heeseung was almost glaring at you while doing it made it ten times worse. You wondered if you had possibly done something earlier to offend him, but there was nothing you could think of at the moment.

You finished your very short introduction speech and naturally walked to the seat next to Heeseungs. The other chairs were free, but you decided on that one since you were trying to get close to Yeji's friends. You figured this was the perfect way to do just that. "Sorry about earlier." You lean in a little and whisper to him you're not exactly sure what you're even apologizing for, but you did it just to clear the air.

He turns to you, an annoyed expression on his face as he holds his index finger to his mouth, indicating for you to shush.

You sat upright in your chair, a slight pout on your lips from how rude he was being. You were just trying to do the right thing and apologize, and he was being mean about it for no apparent reason.

You wondered how he could be a friend of Yejis. He was very handsome but a total jerk, and Yeji definitely didn't hang around rude people like him, at least not since you've known her.

You sigh, and you can't believe your first class was basically ruined all because of him. When it ended, you couldn't have been happier cause sitting next to him felt so suffocating, and after you left that class, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

"So, how was it?" Yeji pops up out of nowhere while you are wandering the halls alone.

"It was good." You forced a smile and lied because you didn't want to bad mouth Heeseung in front of her. He was literally her friend, and besides, you didn't want it to start any unnecessary drama on the first day. You're sure Heeseung probably just wasn't feeling well.

"Great!" She said enthusiastically everything was already going so well. She was happy your first class was good, and you were finally able to reunite and meet her friends. So far, it was perfect, just how she imagined it would be. "Sorry to leave you again, but" she points down the hall. "Next class," she whispered. You waved her off, telling her it was alright and that you'd be fine alone.

You went your separate ways and headed to your next classroom, and lo and behold, heeseung was in this one, too. This time, you decided to sit away from him, not wanting to annoy him any further than you already apparently had.

Once you sat down, heeseung peeked over his shoulder, looking back at you in the corner of the room. Sitting all by yourself, you felt someone's gaze on you, and as soon as you looked up, you could see him quickly turn away from you. He started tapping his pencil on his desk and bouncing his legs, pretending like he wasn't just staring in your exact direction.

You shook your head, wondering what was up with him, but you let it drift to the back of your mind, convincing yourself that he was just having a bad day and left it alone.

-

Classes went by in a breeze. Heeseung was like literally in all your classes, and it was just your luck, but as the day went on, you were able to focus and completely forget about what happened earlier in the morning.

Once you packed up all your stuff, you left class, texting Yeji that you had just finished. She caught up with you a few minutes later, and you chatted with her about how everything went as you walked the halls to catch up with the others in the cafeteria. She was happy to hear you shared the same classes as Heeseung, but you weren't. "He's really great and smart. If you need help with anything, he's your go-to guy. He's just like naturally good at everything, and he's so humble and nice about it." She goes on and on about how nice he is, but you just can't see it after the way he's been treating you on just the first day of knowing you, but whatever, you trusted Yeji and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

You both headed to the cafeteria, and you wonder if you and yeji are both talking about the same heeseung cause when you sat down next to him, he looked as if he'd tear your head clean off in the last class you had together.

The lunch table in the cafeteria was already full of Yejis's friends gathered around and eating while conversing with each other.

You and Yeji got your food together, and the both of you went to the table to join in the conversation they were having. Yeji easily joined, but it was harder for you because, of course, she had known these people way longer than you, so you stayed quiet for the most part, only laughing at a few jokes here and there.

"Hey, since y/n's new here, we should ask questions so we can learn more about each other," Jake suggested, noticing your silence, and everyone immediately agreed with his idea. "Y/n, you can start," Jake says and includes you into the conversation.

You picked at your food nervously, trying to think of a good conversation starter. "Umm, what's everyone's favorite food?" You ask, hoping that was a good question to start with, and with everyone's enthusiastic replies, you assumed it was, which helped you loosen up a bit.

Everyone told you their favorites, starting with Sunghoon and ending with heeseung. You heard him mutter something under his breath, but you didn't really pay attention to it because he was quite rude earlier, and you weren't entirely over it yet. After you all shared your favorites, you went on to talk about your favorite colors next, just learning the basics about each other on your first day.

Heeseung scoffed and removed himself from the conversation when you didn't reply to him like you did with everyone else. He decided to fill his mouth with food instead of talking. besides, he wasn't that interested in getting to know you anyways cause you were so rude from the moment you introduced yourself, and he wonders how such a sweet girl like yeji could surround herself with someone like you.

Despite your rudeness, heeseung still couldn't deny that when he first saw you, he thought you were absolutely beautiful. That was the only thing you did have on your side, but that wasn't enough to get him to befriend the likes of you.

Lunch went smoothly for the most part. You laughed and talked with everyone, getting to know each of them on a more personal level. It wasn't much, but you think you all covered a lot of bases just on the first day of knowing each other, and you hoped things would continue like this, minus Heeseung being a bit stand-off-ish.

-

Your first week went rather quickly, and everything was going great, just like it was on the first day you arrived. You got closer to everyone, especially Jake, and you weren't getting lost in the halls as often anymore or running around like a chicken with your head cut off in search of a bathroom, so that was a huge plus.

The only thing that still wasn't so great was heeseung.

Every time you'd come around, he'd find any excuse to remove himself from a conversation or roll his eyes at the mere sight of you, making it impossible for you not to notice that he didn't enjoy your presence at all.

At first, you convinced yourself it was just him being tired, but after three weeks of him being like that with you, you decided to say something to Yeji about her friend because things between you and him were uncomfortable, to say the least, especially when all you were trying to do was get along with everyone. "Is he always like that?" You ask, book bag in hand, as you and Yeji head home from school for the day.

"Is who always like what?" She questions while mindlessly kicking a pebble on the ground once you both exit the building.

"Heeseung," you blurt out, not holding back anymore. "He's quite," you hum in thought, trying to find a way not to offend her or depict Heeseung as a bad guy. "Rude," you add softly.

Her brows raised at the statement, and when you noticed her expression, you grew anxious about her answer because what if she didn't believe you? What if she thinks you're trying to bad mouth her friend for no reason? That wouldn't be a good look for you at all. "He's just shy, but once you get to know him, he's really nice, and lots of people mistake his quietness for rudeness, but he's the complete opposite."

Nodding your head, you pondered her words, but him being quiet wasn't the problem with the two of you, so you pressed a little further, hoping to get answers as to why Heeseung didn't like you. "But it's been nearly a month, and every time I come around, it's like he hates me or something," you pout.

"Hmm, well, I'm sure you two will get along well. Just give him some time." she shrugs it off, and you let it go once again, but you'd be keeping close tabs on his behavior towards you from now on.

-

You and Yeji's friend group were all currently on lunch break, eating in silence until. "Y/n, we're all going to the movies on Saturday. Would you like to come?" Yeonjun tilted his head curiously, awaiting your answer, and he looked so adorable.

"Hmm," you think if you have anything planned this Saturday, but you didn't. Your whole day was totally free. "Sure!"

"Great!" he smiles before returning to the bowl of soup that he had gotten from the school's cafeteria.

You nearly snapped when you heard Heeseung sighing right beside you. Any other time, you'd think you were being paranoid, but you could tell it was directed at you, and to be honest, you were getting fed up with him already.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably while glaring at him. He turned his head in your opposite direction, unmistakably annoyed by you, and you just couldn't understand why he didn't like you, nor would you ask him about it cause he looked like he'd rather keel over than utter a single word to you.

Unfortunately, you had to be seated next to him, but you scooted as far away from him as possible, and as soon as you did, he did the same thing, creating a noticeable distance between the two of you.

What a petty asshole, you thought. Here he is, making it seem like you were doing something wrong when you were just simply trying to enjoy your lunch with your new friends.

Anyway, you were done with him. He could be annoyed all by himself cause you didn't care what he thought of you anymore, and you didn't care about becoming his friend no matter how many good things Yeji said about him.

You couldn't wrack your brain with his antics.

-

The day of the movie night rolled around, and everyone was already there waiting for you outside the venue.