kr

you've tried clicking the left mouse button, right mouse button, double clicked them both at the same time, and still no response. you took out the batteries and rubbed them around a little bit before putting them back in, 'maybe they need to be cleaned', you thought.

moving the mouse around a little bit and still no cursor popping up on your monitor, you almost punched the screen in. today was really not your day. you've already had to deal with euijoo twice and you were NOT about to talk to him a third time.

nothing was wrong with euijoo, just that he was absolutely the most stuck up, shameless, cocky man you've ever met. he loved looking down on others and pointing out non-existent "mistakes". he'd always pass by your office cubicle, coffee in hand, laptop in the other, giving you that stupid smug grin of his.

you prayed every time that coffee would spill all over him and his laptop.

he was a graduate of the same year as you and nicholas, your mutual friend whom you've known since university. nicholas was cool and playful; he would spend time with you and your friend group, but most of his time was spent with euijoo.

it didn't help that euijoo was always top of the class and you were right under him in second place, all the professors and TAs knew you and him well.

both of you would get paired up for conferences and meetings. he was always so punctual and direct, barely caring about how someone else feels, at least that's how he was with you. you remember the day you asked him for his notes on the presentation and instead gave you nicholas's. just how stingy could he be?

the memory made you scowl as you quickly stood up.

you looked around you, hoping you'd find someone else, as long as it wasn't that guy, who was here for overtime as well. you saw 2 cubicles with their lamps lit up, immediately recognizing one of them to be one of your close friends'.

"hey, nicholas," you called out over your office area. you were praying he was a computer genius even though, deep down, you highly doubted that.

no response came from him, so you called out for him again and still no reply.

you let out a grumble and stomped over to his cubicle, "nicholas, I've been calling you-"

the sight shut you right up.

his shoes were off, and a blanket was draped over his body as he lay almost completely reclined in his office chair. the fucker was asleep.

you stared at him for a good 5 seconds, contemplating whether you should kick his ass off the chair and make a run for it or play some heavy metal at max volume to scare the shit out of him.

but you decided against either, holding onto the last bit of sanity you had.

then it hit you. you were gonna have to talk to euijoo to get your work done.

'but it's not like overtime money makes that much of a difference' you thought to yourself, trying to convince yourself that you could just live off of canned food if you finished your leftover tasks during normal work hours. it wouldn't be that bad, right? it'd only be a month of canned food and water.

…then you actually thought about it.

letting out a long exhale, you couldn't believe you were about to walk over to mr. im-better-than-all-of-you's cubicle for a third time to ask for his help. every step of the way there, you prayed silently and earnestly that the ground would crack open and swallow you whole.

a soft knock on the thin wall and clear of your throat, you peeked inside the cubicle. he seemed to be working on his own tasks with papers scattered around and empty paper cups of coffee. his glasses were on the tip of his nose, and the top button of his shirt was undone, silver necklace peeking out.

he had earphones in, and he took one out as he turned to face you. his appearance had surprised you considering you've never seen him so disheveled.

euijoo looked at you from over his glasses, "is there something you need?" he questioned, voice sounding tired from how long he's been sitting down working.

today was especially tough on all of you because it was the end of the month, meaning reports and documents had to be perfect and revised multiple times before getting sent to your managers.

"uh, yeah, sorry, I just-" you stumbled over your words, flustered all of a sudden. "my mouse isn't working, and im not sure why."

you shifted on your feet as you watched his reaction. he just raised an eyebrow at you, scoffing as he pointed to the cubicle on the other side of the room with his thumb, “check with nicholas on that. he'll do it for you. i don't know why you're here right now when you're much closer to him anyway-"

“i did, but he was sleeping. do you really think i'd come here out of my own free will?” you interrupted him. you expected this response from him, which is why you dreaded coming here at all.

you massaged the area between your eyebrows. the lack of sleep, the constant looking at your monitor, hunching your back so you could see the numbers clearly, and the amount of work you had left was starting to get to you, and you were not about to entertain euijoo's love for arguing.

“listen, just help me with this, and i'll be out of your hair forever,” you pleaded, voice coming out softer this time. you close your eyes for a second, ready to get rejected and get this over with. you never should've come here in the first place.

euijoo stared at you for a moment, expression unreadable and let out a sigh. he stood up, “nicholas is sleeping, you said?” he asked, then took off towards nicho's cubicle.

you were stunned that it took you a moment to figure out what was going on. you were then met with the sound of a yelp and a thud followed by a string of curses along the lines of ‘i'll kill you, EJ! you fucking asshole-!’

hearing soft footsteps, you saw euijoo pointing at your cubicle, gesturing for you to come over. you jogged over to him, still a little surprised.

you began showing him your mouse not appearing on your monitor and how it suddenly stopped working. he glanced at the taskbar and clicked on some keys on the keyboard to get it to open. he worked his way to the bluetooth menu only to find out that you hadn't even turned on Bluetooth to connect to the mouse.

now would be a great time for the ground to actually split open and eat you and euijoo up. the heat of embarrassment washed all over you, you were sure your face was burning up red hot.

euijoo glanced at you, styled hair falling into his tired eyes as he saw your face morph into a mortified expression. probably at how dumb and quick the fix was, but all he could think about was how adorable you looked with the redness of your ears slowly creeping on your cheeks.

he couldn't hold himself back, he was too tired to care. he bit his lower lip to at least hide back his smile and chuckled. this made you freeze.

this was the second time he'd surprised you in the span of five minutes, and it was the first time you've heard him laugh. doesn't matter if he was laughing at you or not, his laugh was deep and soft, coming straight from his chest.

you slid your hands down your face, only your eyes showing. “sorry…” you murmured, suddenly shy under his gaze.

he shook his head as a response, “don't worry about it. we're all too tired to even think straight right now,” he pointed with his head towards the other side of the room, “except for that asshole over there. he's already back in dreamland.”

you cracked a small smile, cheeks lifting up at him. was euijoo actually cracking jokes with you? you? the one person he'd look up and down in front of everyone as he barely greeted you or even met your eyes? that euijoo?

‘lack of sleep makes you do weird things, i guess’ you thought, eyes scanning his hunched frame. was he always this toned? he looked pretty good in a button-up.

“anyway,” he stood upright, “you should probably… go home for now. you look worn-out.”

you were about to object, but he put his hand up, “i'm not taking anything from someone who couldn't even realize she didn't have her Bluetooth on.” he said with a raised eyebrow, glasses now up on his head.

damn, you couldn't argue with that.

“fine, let me log out.” you move to sit on your chair as you begin collecting your belongings. euijoo hummed in agreement and turned around to make his way to his own office area, but he stopped after a step.

“hey,” he started again, his voice low but still loud enough for only you to hear. “i didn't mean what i said before. uh, the ‘i don't know why you're here’. i didn't mean it like that. i just, you know, know you're more fond of nicho, so i thought you should've asked him first.”

your tired, sleepy eyes suddenly weren't droopy anymore, growing as big as saucers.

“you think i like nicholas?” you exclaimed, voice loud enough that it echoed in the almost empty office.

euijoo was taken aback by your reaction, asking his own question, “you don't?”

you almost facepalmed, god, if euijoo was thinking this, just what were other people thinking about the both of you? you shook your head so hard in a very obvious ‘no’, you were sure you gave yourself whiplash.

euijoo almost flew to heaven and back.

his smile fought to grow wide on his face, his hand covering the bottom half of his face, “ah, so that's how it is.”

“anyway, uh,” he cleared his throat, “take care on your way back home.” he gave a small nod, lips pursed. giving a small wave, he turned around and quickly left. he really didn't want you to see how red his ears were right now, how uncool would that be.

euijoo slightly spun in his chair, glancing at your cubicle which was still empty. he looked at the clock on the wall: 9:15.

you were an hour late, which is very unusual. usually, you're at most 20 minutes late, and even then, you'd make sure to notify your boss that you'd be late due to traffic or some other excuse. you weren't exactly the type to slack off.

as euijoo got lost in his own thoughts, he didn't feel the menacing presence creeping behind him. he was startled out of his thoughts when two hands tightly grabbed his shoulders. with a whip of his head, he saw nicholas, who glared at him with his eyes narrowed.

“what the fuck was that yesterday?” nicholas half-shouted, not wanting to grab the attention of the entire office.

“what was what?” euijoo threw back, brushing off nicho's hands, clearly not interested in what he had to say.

nicholas pulled another chair to sit down and put his legs between euijoo's, “tripping me off my chair was a bitch move, euijoo. I almost broke my back.”

“and no one told you to sleep in the office during overtime,” euijoo leaned in close, “do that shit at home.” he whispered.

nicholas had to hold himself back from smacking him right then and there.

nicholas sighed, leaning back in the chair as he stretched his legs, “all that just to impress your crush of five years, huh?” he looked at euijoo with a tilt of his head, smirk playing on his face.

euijoo maintained composure even though it was hard to hide how his heart started racing at the mention of you.

“i don't have a crush on anyone, shut up and be professional. this isn't lunch break.”

“damn, love really makes you do wild things,” nicho ignored euijoo's words, glancing at your still empty office area.

“speaking of, do you know where she-”

the entrance burst open, a disheveled you entering the office, covered in sweat as you rushed to your cubicle. after putting your things down, you quickly made your way over to your boss's office, briefly greeting the other people you passed by.

euijoo watched you, absentmindedly admiring how beautiful you still looked even when you were rushing; how you dove straight into business, not wasting any time; how you carried yourself so professionally and confidently; how your blouse stuck to your sweat-flushed skin, heels clacking loud and clear in the halls; how you—

a hand waving in front of his face broke his string of thoughts. euijoo's eyes snapped back to nicholas, who wore a knowing look, a smirk stretched across his face.

"you know, i think i agree with you. you don't like her all that much."

"what?"

"you looove her," nicholas sang, hands intertwined, blinking fast and fluttering his eyelashes.

heat creeped up euijoo's neck, who tried his absolute best to keep his composure from faltering.

just as he was about to snap back at nicholas, he goes on, “anyway, i'm gonna have a get-together at my house this friday for our uni friends.” he points at euijoo.

“you're coming.”

“no, i'm not. i'm too busy to entertain that-”

“your lover's coming, lover boy.”

euijoo stilled, only thing on his mind was that he was gonna see you in a non-official setting. before it was college, and even then he was too shy to talk to you or make eye contact with you, and now at work, it's all suits and ties.

“i don't know, nicho. i’ll confirm it with you later,” he dismissed him, telling him that needs to get back to work, or he'll actually get in trouble.

nicho didn't miss how his tall friend didn't refute ‘your lover’ nor the pink flush of his neck.

euijoo regretted ever knowing nicholas. truly, he's been at this party for almost an hour, and all he's gotten from it was a headache from the loud music and having to deal with insufferable people.

he looked around for his old friend, ready to tell him that he was leaving. or maybe he should just Irish goodbye?

while contemplating his decision, he saw you pass by him. he hadn't seen you since he got here. you looked stunning. hair half pinned back and half flowing down, outfit hugging you in the right places, beautiful.

he took extra care of the way he looked today, making sure to put on that one expensive cologne for no particular reason, but he wasn't sure if he should greet you.

you were chatting with one of your guy friends, focused on whatever it was you're talking about, and he didn't miss the way your friend looked you up and down. a bite of his lip, that friend put his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

blood boiled in euijoo's veins as he looked the other way. he needed to leave. now.

just as he was about to stand up, nicholas appeared with a drink in his hand, yelling about 'let's play spin the bottle'. he was dragged down to the floor, included in the big circle that formed around an empty alcohol bottle.

right in front of him was you.

people took turns playing dares with each other. a kiss here, a touch there, someone almost took their clothes off.

then the bottle neck spun and landed on euijoo. he raised an eyebrow, looking at nicholas, who quickly grabbed the bottle and spun it one more time. this time landing on you.

"aaalright, lover birds," nicholas shouted drunkenly, "you get 7 minutes in heaven in my room's closet, go!"

both of you didn't try to budge. you peeked at him with your head down, deciding whether you should get this over with or just reject the idea all together, till euijoo said:

"she won't do it. she's too shy for that."

this made you freeze. 'she' won't do it? not 'i' won't do it? is he making decisions for you right now? and who says you're shy?

"no, it's great idea. let's do it," you quickly said, already getting up off the floor, "unless you're too shy to."

"i don't think you know what 7 minutes in heaven-"

"i know plenty, euijoo. but if you don't want to, I'll take him-" you went to grab the same friend you'd been talking to all night, a smirk stretched across his face as he extended a hand out to you.

euijoo jumped over to you, grabbing your hand out of his, "let's go."

euijoo shot your friend a silent glare, silently telling him not to do that shit again.

you began walking towards nicho's room, hand still held in euijoo's as practically dragged you behind him with his long strides.

now that you were close proximity, you took a good look at him. he had a brown jacket, black top and black jeans on. the same silver necklace was peeking through his neckline. his hair was soft and unstyled, falling down his forehead, wearing that same pair of glasses with a snapback on.

so good-looking and all for naught.

opening up the cramped, messy closet, you both stood in the darkness, a light barely illuminating the space, just enough that you could clearly see euijoo's pressed lips.

both of you tried to be as far as you could from each other, pressing into unorganized clothes, but your bodies were still close to each other.

you could feel euijoo's breathing on the top of your head as he tried to steady himself straight. your chest was brushing his torso every breath you took. the poor man had to look away from you, knowing that even though you can't see anything in the darkness, he still felt self-conscious.

the entire time as euijoo's thoughts were racing a million times an hour, you were fuming. you hated how he treated you and how he constantly would put himself in your own opinions.

you looked up at him, telling him, "do you like being an asshole?"

euijoo flinched away, arms still raised as they held onto the beam on top.

"what?"

"i'm asking you if you like being an asshole only with me because you clearly like being one every single time you see me."

"w-wha- no, i dont," he whispered, voice barely heard if it weren't for the fact that you were inches away.

euijoo sighed hands running over his hair, forgetting he was wearing a snapback which fell to the ground. you picked it back up for him, giving it to him, but he held onto your wrist.

"i didn't mean to," he softly said your name, hand rubbing small inconsistent circles on your wrist now.

"you don't mean a lot of things euijoo, it's fine."

"no, listen to me. i don't mean to sound like an asshole around you, or especially to you. actually, that's the last thing i'd be hoping you'd think of me."

you were confused, trying to read his facial expressions, but the light shining through the slits of the closet doors wasn't enough.

"you make me nervous whenever i'm around you. i can't talk normally whenever i see you, so i just shut up. it's not that i want to be mean, but when i like someone so much that they're all that i'm thinking about, my brain short-circuits and i say the first thing that comes to mind.

"i know i can be an asshole sometimes, and i'm sorry. you don't deserve that kind of treatment from anyone, especially not from someone you can barely stand-"

your other free hand softly touched his face, thumb caressing his cheek. you looked straight into his eyes as you took a step closer to him, body now flush against his. his snapback dropped to the floor again, long forgotten. you pulled him down to match your height, hands on his shoulders. you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"you like me, euijoo?" you whispered on his lips, eyes flicking between his lips and his eyes.

euijoo was about to faint, he didn't know what to do. if he admits to this, then he's admitting to the fact that he's had a crush on you for almost five years straight. he's admitting all the times he was jealous when he convinced himself he wasn't.

a moment of silence from him, only your heightened breathing can be heard, and then, "yes, i like you."

your lips crashed onto his, taking in the confession straight from his mouth. his lips were soft and tender, mouth hesitant to move till you felt his hands snake their way around your waist.

he was gentle, holding onto you like you were going to break, mouth moving in sync with yours as his hands couldn't settle on one place of your body, moving from you waist to your hips down to your thighs. your arms wrapped around his wide shoulders, pulling him down to you even more.

his tongue licked your bottom lip, asking for permission. you parted your lips, and euijoo didn't waste any time. the only thing holding his sanity in place was the fact that you were in the cramped closet of his friend.

his tongue brushed yours hesitantly. he was still shy, so you cupped his face and bit his lower lip, a moan escaping euijoo as he let you do anything you wanted to him. a smirk played on your face, lips going back to their place on euijoo's. you wanted him to make out with you.

euijoo felt that, so his hand held onto your hips tighter, pulling you closer to him. his other hand flicked your chin up, opening your lips and crashing his mouth into yours again. this time with more intensity and passion.

you tasted divine, so addicting he worried he wouldn't be able to let you leave. your tongues played with each other, holding each other in place as the only sound that filled the confined space was your kissing.

with your mouths open and breaths ragged, you pulled away. euijoo's hands rested back at your hips, still flush against his as your arms made their way back to his shoulders.

he leaned his forehead to yours as he cracked a small smile. he looked so pretty when he smiled.

"i think it's been more than 7 minutes now," euijoo said, eyes closing as he kept his forehead to yours. you giggled, agreeing that they were either all knocked out or left the house at some point.

"sorry," he said your name in that same soft tone he used earlier. you were going to have to get used to it. "i shouldn't have treated you that way all these years."

"yeah?" you qeustioned, pressing your chest into his teasingly. "then make it up to me, lover boy."

euijoo bit back a smile, holding your face with one hand as he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips. and another. then one on the corners of your mouth, "i promise."

the buzz of your wedding was only just starting to fade within you, the beautiful, soft white dress you wore still hung up on the bedroom door; you’d admire it each night before bed, sleepy mind flicking back to the special day. the ceremony was small, more intimate, only close family and friends attending. your honeymoon was just as peaceful, a fortnight spent on korea’s jeju island; slow, lazy days consisting of delicious delicacies and naps on the beach. it was the perfect mix of laid-back and special - just how you had dreamed of since you were a child, playing with your dolls.

life for you and jo was simple, peaceful. and that’s how you liked it.

---

the sky was clear of any clouds this sunday morning, and you took the opportunity to go out to the garden. you had surprisingly woken up before jo, so you tip-toed out to the patio, trying your best as to not wake him up. gloves on, you were kneeled down in front of the flower bed, lost in your own world as you tended to your plants.

unbeknownst to you, jo had woken up not so long after you, trudging into the conservatory in his pajamas. he carefully set up his easel and canvas, grabbing his new pencils and watercolours you had bought him as a wedding gift. his eye flickered to his sweet wife outside, beginning to trace guidelines onto the canvas, the shape of your body as you were knelt down. he had drawn you before, but this felt different. it was more candid, more real. he was capturing you in your most natural form, hair messy, sleep shirt hanging loosely off your shoulder, soil scattered on your lap as you focused on your most prized possession - your array of floral shrubbery.

---

once jo was finished with the pencil sketch, he began adding colour to the piece, getting the soft pink flush of your cheeks, the colours of your hair in the sunlight. he thought you looked so beautiful in that exact moment. how could his wife be so effortlessly gorgeous?

he was pulled from his trance when you called to him, walking down the patio towards the conservatory, a happy grin on your face.

“jojo!”

jo blinked a few times before he processed what was happening. he smiled at you as you stepped inside, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“morning, honey. are your flowers all good?” jo asked, putting his thin paint brush down and resting his hand on your back. you leant your head against his chest, nodding.

“yeah, they’re all good.” you answered, your eyes catching sight of the painting. “is that me, jojo?”

you lift your gaze to his face, noticing how his ears turned a dark shade of red. he nodded.

“oh… this? um, yes, it’s you.” he admitted, a small chuckle escaping. “i thought you looked really peaceful when you were outside. i wanted to capture your beauty.”

you smiled from ear-to-ear at his words, at how sheepish he was. you pressed a kiss to the base of his neck.

“thank you, handsome. you’re so talented, you know that right?”

his hand that rested on your back slid around your waist, pulling you closer into him. he smiled down at you, whispering a ‘thank you’ before catching your lips in a soft kiss.

when jo didn’t know how to respond with words (which was often), he’d resort to using actions instead. jo loved these quiet mornings with you, no one else around, just the two of you in the comfortable privacy of your small home. that’s the message he wanted to convey through his affection.

life for you and jo was simple, peaceful. and that’s how jo liked it.

“You’re awake at this hour?” the glass almost slips your fingers as you hear the silky, smooth voice behind you. You turn around and see Yudai leaning against the opposing counter, looking illegally good for the time. You catch yourself before you shamelessly stare at him but Yudai doesn’t miss your look.

“Got thirsty,” you croak out a reply, not meeting his eyes at all. Yudai hums lightly in acknowledgement as his eyes fix on the sweatshirt loosely fit on your body. You can feel his eyes as you turn around quickly, too interested in cleaning the glass.

Something snaps in the air and before you can name it a low chuckle leaves his throat. You don’t look up at him but his voice reaches you clearly when he says, “You know I am trying so hard, so fucking hard to not see you like that- but you come into my kitchen wearing my sweatshirt and you cannot expect me to act fucking sane”

He runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated at the situation and at you who is not making it any better.

“I thought it was Taki’s,” the sentence slips past your tongue before you can stop yourself and you can physically feel how his eyes shoot up and stare at yours.

It is a lie. You knew very well it was Yudai’s the moment Taki threw it at you. You did not think you would get caught at any moment though.

Yudai shifts on his feet and in three long strides is beside you making you stiffen up. He tilts his head, hair falling messily over his eyes and says lazily, “Lying is a trait that doesn’t suit you at all sweetheart.”

You feel sick at how you find his sweet voice so attractive as you look up and lock eyes with him. This is probably the first time you have looked at him in the eye apart from the fleeting glances. He hovers over your figure and you can see the restraint in his eyes as they quietly scan your face.

“Well, you don’t care either way,” you whisper willing to push his buttons further than you intended. You would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him and him being older made it even sweeter for you to chase.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he replies, gritting his teeth as he shifts closer to you. His restlessness screams from within as you feel his breath fanning your face.

“What if I don’t want it to?” you challenge, praying internally your voice is as stable as it sounds to you. You have no idea where this courage is coming from but maybe it is the hour and maybe you are tired from all the restraint he is still showing.

Something flickers through Yudai’s eyes and before you can act, he steps back replying, “No, this is wrong, you are younger by a lot and Taki’s friend.”

There it is again, the meaningless boundary he always sets, the one you pray to break for every night.

You finally get pissed as you whisper-shout, “Would you treat me the same if I was Fuma’s friend?” Yudai’s eyes shoot back at yours and he holds up a hand motioning you to stop talking. You, however, have different plans.

You continue saying, “No, why should I stop? Tell me would you stop me? Or is the age thing only an act? Maybe all you had was some infatuation for me that you don’t have anymore and the age is just a cover up? Or are you that much of a coward? Tell me, because. I deserve the truth.”

“Shut up,” he finally replies, eyes glazing as he stares at you and you scoff, heavy breathes leaving your lips.

You smirk and tilt your head saying, “Make me.”

Whatever restraint Yudai had built up in all these months, snaps in a bare second as he roughly pulls you by your waist and presses his lips to yours. The kiss is rough and messy as you clutch his t-shirt for some sanity. Yudai, however, has no means of letting you ground yourself as he angles your chin with his fingers and pushes his tongue inside your mouth.

A groan leaves your throat, but you are too far ridden by pleasure to care as you feel his fingers burn into the cool skin of your waist. Your fingers knot in his hair as you kiss him back with fervour and he smirks a little in the kiss. You two only part when you are in need of air and his forehead rests against yours, heavy pants echoing in the empty night air.

You lick your lips, that now taste like Yudai’s chapstick and gulp before saying, “I don’t care about others.”

His eyes meet yours and he replies, “I need to start doing that too,” before his lips are on yours again, kissing you like he means it and you happily kiss him back, smiling.

ARCHV ⠀ ✦ ⠀ i swear this man has taken over my head god, just to imagine a tension with him is >>> beta @sxmmerberries

´ ᵕ ` ⠀⠀ &team shelf ⠀navi ⠀,⠀taglist . fill this / comment / ask

@hursheys @yeosayang @aaa-sia @slytherinshua

your boyfriend sucked. you often times questioned why you were with him. it started out fine, just like every other relationship, but along the way, something just went wrong. it was now argument after argument. headache after headache.

you two had been arguing over the same thing for the past week. he wanted something that you didn't, and so him being him, he's holding that over your head, refusing to do anything you want until you do this for him. you haven't let up, and you weren't going to, leaving you dreading what your next conversation with him was going to be.

you step out of your car, slamming the door as you walk up to the familiar apartment complex of your best friend. you had the place memorized at this point. you didn't even tell him you were coming, but he knew it was you as you slammed the door shut. you were the only one who had a key to his place.

nicholas looked up when you rounded the corner, pausing the tv when you throw your bag to the ground.

"trouble in paradise?" he asked as you sat down on the couch next to him. you get comfortable, throwing your feet on the table next to his as you lay your head against the back of the couch.

"when am i not?" you snort.

"why are you still with him?"

you shrug. "i don't know anymore. he was nothing like this when we first started dating. and now he's..."

nicholas looks over when you stop talking. you're biting your lip as tears threaten to fall. as many times as you and your boyfriend argued, you've never cried over it. you may have been angry but never upset like this.

he moves, shifting to get closer to you. "what did he do?"

"well, you know our first anniversary is coming up, so i asked him what he wanted. he told me that he wanted to take things to the next level in the bedroom. i didn't know what he was talking about, and he told me he wanted to stop wearing a condom since i'm on birth control. i told him no- that i wasn't comfortable with it. he blew up on me, saying that he won't have sex with me if he has to keep wearing one."

nicholas didn't say anything for a moment causing you to look over. and you could tell that he was hiding his anger. or least he was trying to, but knowing him for so long, you could tell how angry his was. he had a deep frown on his face with a clenched jaw.

"please tell me that you aren't thinking about appeasing the asshole."

you let out a scoff at him. "what the hell do you think? i told him that until he gets his head out of his ass, he can stay celibate for all i care."

"good girl." you roll your eyes at his response. "why don't you just end things? you said yourself you don't know why you were with him. plus, i don't like him."

you let out a laugh. "so i should end things with him just because you don't like him."

"yes." you chuckle at his blunt answer. "he's clearly not treating you right. and let's not forget the piece of shit threatened you just to try to get what he wants despite you saying no."

"i know he's not. i've been thinking about ending things with him. you know this. but according to you, none of my boyfriends have ever treated me right."

"that's because you have a shit taste in men." you kick his foot at the insult.

"you're a dick."

"you still like me though." you roll your eyes at his response.

"unfortunately." you mumble. "i feel like at this point, i don't even know how i should be treated."

"like how i treat you." you look over at him to see him already staring at you.

"yes because constant insults really shows a girl you treat them right." to prove your point, nicholas scoffed and shoved your shoulder. "i'm kidding, nicho."

"you better be."

"i just feel like i need to calm down." you tell him. "like i need to clear my head before dealing with him. i just don't know how."

"i could help, you know. get your mind off of things." you look over at nicholas' offer.

"how would you do that?" you look over when nicholas turns towards you. his hand finds your chin, thumb running over your bottom lip. you look up to see his dark gaze locked onto your face. you were used to him being touchy at times, but this was different. you should've pulled away, but you didn't want to, letting him lean in close enough to feel his breath brush over your skin.

"by making you forget about everything except me." your eyes widened at his answer. your legs twitched at the thought. it had been a while since you were able any sort of action due to your boyfriend throwing his tantrum, and you would be lying if you said you weren't sexually frustrated.

"what about-"

"don't say his name." nicholas stopped you. "you are a grown woman with needs, something he wouldn't help you with until you agreed to his stupid terms. he said it himself. besides, you know i can keep a secret."

your face flushes as you think back to last year. it was before you and your boyfriend had gotten together. you and nicholas went to a party. the both of you drank a little to much and ended up making out in the back of his car. it didn't go any further than that, but the two of you agreed to keep it a secret. you thought he forgot about it because he never brought it up again.

"you didn't forget, did you?" nicholas questions with a teasing tone, smirking when you shake your head. "you in my lap, claiming me with these sinful lips. begging me to keep going."

"don't." you beg, trying to get him to stop talking about that night that neither one of you can seem to forget.

"i'm not doing anything. just reliving a memory." nicholas pulls away from you, resting back on the couch. "i'm just trying to fulfill my duties as your best friend by helping you relax. don't you want to end thinks with a clear head?"

nicholas watches you as you sink back into the couch, seemingly disappointed that he pulled away. he could tell you were deep in thought, thinking about what he said.

"what would you helping me relax entail?" you asked.

"whatever you want it to." he answered. "tell me something he wouldn't do that you wanted."

"oh so you want a list." nicholas groaned at your answer.

"how the fuck are you with someone that clearly doesn't care about you or your pleasure?"

"like you said, i have shitty taste in men." you answer, shifting in your seat. "there is one thing that he never do when i asked for it."

"what is it?"

"he, um... i would go down on him, but he never returned the favor. he always said that women weren't clean enough for that." you watch as nicholas' jaw drops in shock, looking at you with an unreadable expression. "what? do you agree with him or something?"

"fuck no." he responds, his disgusted expression making you laugh. "i'm just trying to understand. what guy says no to that?"

you shrugged, not having an answer. nicholas leaned forward again, putting his arm on the other side of you, caging you against the couch. "is that what you want? for me to eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming my name?"

"nicho!" you exclaim, face turning red at his question.

"what?" he shrugged. "you wouldn't have said that if you weren't thinking it. all you have to do is say one little word."

"and what is that?"

"please." he answered with a smirk.

you thought about it for a moment. you would be lying if you said you never thought of your best friend in his way. especially since last year. you would also be lying if you said that you weren't turned on from his words. your boyfriend never talked to you like this. none of them have. but just those few words from nicholas have turned you on more than anyone else has.

"we'll keep this between us, right?" you asked, making nicholas smirk.

"it'll be our dirty little secret."

you nod your head at his words. "okay."

"that's not the word i want." nicholas tells you, leaning closer to you. his lips just barely brush yours as he speaks. "you know what i want."

"please." you mumble against his lips.

"please what, baby?" nicholas teases, smiling when you huff. "i'll do anything you want. just tell me."

you shift, feeling your underwear uncomfortably stick to your thighs. "please put your mouth on me. make me only think of you."

as soon as those words were out of your mouth, nicholas' lips attached to yours in a hungry kiss. all thoughts of how wrong this was slipped away when his tongue slid into your mouth with that same heat from last year. if anything, it was more. like he wasn't going to let you slip away from him this time.

his frame towered over you, hands gripping your thighs as your back hits the couch. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you by his shirt. you felt him smirk against your lips before pulling away from you. his lips found your jaw, trailing down until he was pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. you gasped as his teeth slowly scraping against your smooth skin with every kiss before dragging his tongue back up towards your ear.

"you okay, baby?" you nod your head, your eyes meeting his. "do you want more?"

"please."

your world was tilted when his arms wrapped around you, picking you up with ease. you cling onto him as he brings you to his room, a place you had been in many times but never like this.

your back hit the mattress, nicholas' arms caging your head as he lands on top of you. his lips were back on yours, stealing your breath away as his hands traced your body, wanting to memorizing every curve of your body.

you gasped into his mouth when his hands covered your breasts, squeezing them in his palms. "nicho."

"if i remember correctly, you loved when i did this." he repeated the action, lips finding the part of your breasts that were falling out of your shirt. you moaned when you felt his teeth bite down, leaving a red mark that he tried to sooth with his tongue. "you said i could use my mouth. can i use it on these pretty tits baby?"

you nod your head. "god yes."

you sat up, allowing him to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in a light pink lace bra. nicho let out a groan as his tongue traced along the edge of your bra. "you knew what you were doing when you came here, didn't you? my favorite girl wearing my favorite color."

"i take it you like it then? i just got it."

"you look so pretty for me." he answered, his hand reaching around to unclasp your bra. "too bad i'm about to ruin that."

he slid your bra down your arms, admiring as your nipples hardened as the air hit them. you barely had any time to react before his lips were attaching to your sensitive bud. you gasp, back arching when his teeth graze your nipple before being replaced by his tongue.

"does my girl like me playing with these perfect fucking tits?" you groan, hands found his arms, digging your nails into his skin as he sucked on your nipple. he released it with a pop before switching over to the other side, biting and bruising your skin. you could feel him chuckle at the sounds you were making.

he moved back up your body, smirking at the sight of you panting even though he's felt like he hasn't even started yet. his lips find yours in a heated kiss, teeth biting in your lower lips making you gasp into his mouth. his hand slides down your body, slipping underneath your skirt. his fingers dragged over the front of your panties, letting out a hum when he felt just how wet you were.

"tell me, baby." you gasped when his fingers pushed down firmly, the lace rubbing against your clit. "does that asshole make you this wet?"

your face flushes at his question, but you shake your head. "no. never."

"oh?" he questions as his hand slips past your panties, feeling you jerk as his fingers found your clit. he circles it with a firm touch, watching as you arched into his touch. "so i make you feel better than he ever has, and i haven't even started yet?"

you blink at him, slightly dazed for a moment before his words actually made sense. you whimper against his lips when he presses harder against your clit. "mhmm... nicho."

"that didn't sound like an answer." his hand left your clit making you whine as he pulls away from you. he sits back on his heals as he brings his glistening hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers as his eyes stay locked on yours. "if you want me to keep going, answer my question."

"yes."

"yes what?"

"you've made me feel better than he ever has." nicholas smirks at your words, especially when he sees the flush against your cheeks.

"that's my girl." his hands grip your waist, finding the zipper on your skirt before tugging it down your legs. "you look so pretty in pink. like a fucking dream."

he bends down, settling between your legs. without warning, his tongue ran over the lace of your panties. you jerk, legs trying to close on instant when his hands gripped your thighs. his hands dig into them before he slides them up, hooking his fingers around your panties before sliding them down your legs. his dark eyes scan every inch of your body before he shakes his head.

"idiot doesn't even know that he's lost the best thing to happen to him." he mumbles, pressing teasing kisses to your inner thigh. "his loss."

he dove into you, tongue licking a thick strip up your slit before his lips latch onto your clit. you jerk, crying out his name when his hand presses down on your stomach, holding you down. "i can't believe he never went down on this pretty pussy. you taste like heaven."

he was loud, groaning into you as he messily devoured you. your face heated up as heard the sounds of him licking and slurping. your heels dig into the bed, getting lost in pleasure, not even noticing his hand moving until he eased a finger inside of you.

"nicho!"

"that's what i want to hear, baby." he said as he slipped a second finger into you, listening as you moan as you adjust to him. he pushed his fingers in deep, dragging every single sound out of your mouth he could. your hand tangled in his pink hair, pulling at the strands as you push him closer to you. "good girl. telling me exactly what she wants."

his lips latch onto your clit, tongue flicking it as his fingers curl, hitting the spot that had your eyes squeezing shut. "oh my god, nicho."

his fingers continue to pump into you, now making sure to hit that spot every time. it left you trembling in his hold, thighs tightening around his head. sounds you've never made before were slipping uncontrollably from your lips, each one pushing nicholas on.

you could feel your orgasm coming fast. "nicho- i'm... i'm close."

"good." he pulled back just long enough to speak. "come on my tongue. do to me what you could never do with him."

with one last curl of his fingers, your orgasm slammed into you hard. you threw your head back, eyes squeezing shut as every muscle in your body clenched. nicholas groaned against you at the sigh, having watched all of it as he stayed attached to you. his fingers slid from you as his tongue keep tasting you, cleaning up every drop of your slick.

you barely had time to blink before nicholas' lips were on yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth, making you taste yourself. you groan against his lips, pulling his body closer to yours as he pulled away from you. "did that feel good, baby?"

"so good." you nodded, still recovering from your orgasm. "but i want more. please."

"one wasn't enough for you?" you shake your head at his question. "greedy little thing, huh? guess i'll have to stayed buried in this thighs a little while longer."

he went to move back down your body, but you stopped him. "you said to tell you what i want, and what i want is you."

he looked down when he felt your hands tug at his shirt. he looked back up at you, looking for any signs of wanting to stop, but all he saw was want. he moved close to you, resting his head against yours.

"are you sure? you're not going to regret this?"

"i'm sure." you tell him. "please. just make me feel good. i want to do what you said. forget everything but you."

"fuck baby." nicholas groaned as he rolled his hips against yours, no longer trying to hide his erection. you moan at the feeling. "is this what you want?"

you nod. "please, nicho. please fuck me."

he pulled away from you, yanking off his shirt. you'd seen him shirtless before, but this time felt different. he watched with a smirk as your eyes ran over him. "does my girl like what she sees?"

you nod, watching as his hands travel to his pants, pushing them down far enough to slide himself out. your mouth went dry at the sight of him, not expecting him to be that big. his hand wraps around himself, smearing precum over his length.

"eyes on me." you immediately lock eyes with him. he leans forward, hand gripping your jaw. "tell me one last time that this is really what you want."

"i want it. want you."

once the words were out of your mouth, his hands were on your waist, flipping you over. you landed on your stomach, letting nicholas freely position you the way you wanted to. your chest was pressed into the mattress while your ass was in the air. nicholas took his time letting his eyes rake over you, hands feeling and grabbing at your exposed skin.

he leaned over you, bare chest pressing into your back as he whispered into your ear. "are you going to be my good girl and take what ever i decide to give you?"

"yes." you whimper as his lips find your shoulder. "i'll take whatever you give me."

nicholas let out a hum before he pulled away from you completely. you looked behind you, watching him as he reaches over to his bedside table. he pulls out a condom, ripping the wrapper with his teeth before sliding it onto him. "you look so good like this, baby."

he gripped himself before lining up with your entrance, dragging slowly through your dripping folds as he coated himself with you. you whimpered, silently begging him to give you more. his hand gripped your waist as his tip nudged your entrance. "ready?"

"yes." he pushed into you, making sure to go slow as he stretches you. "god- fuck nicho!"

"shit, baby. so fucking tight." he groaned, feeling as you clenched around him. the stretch almost felt too much as he continued to push in inch by inch. you let out a moan when his hips met yours, never having felt so full before. he stilled, leaning over your body and waiting for you to look at him. once you did, his lips pressed against yours. "you doing okay?"

"mhmm." you nod.

he moved back, hands gripping your hips as he pulled out of you before thrusting back into you. his set his rhythm, deep and brutal as he sped up to where you were crying out his name with each thrust. "this is what you needed, isn't it? a good fuck. something he could never do."

you whimper at his words, hands clutching the sheets as he dragged your hips to meet his every thrust. one of his hands found your breast, grabbing your nipple before pinching it beneath his fingers. "nicho!"

"he never knew how to handle all of this." you jolt as his hand lands against your ass. he rubs the red skin before doing it again. "he doesn't know how to take care of you, does he baby?"

"no. not like you." you hear him groan as you squeeze around him as his trusts hit even deeper inside of you. "nicho... please."

"do you still want more?" you nod your head at his question. his hand left your breast, ghosting down your stomach before slipping between your folds. his fingers pressed down on your clit before rubbing harshly, making you cry out. "how's that?"

you answered him by clenching around him. "so- so good."

he kept thrusting into you mercilessly, feeling him in your stomach as he showed no sign of stopping. you felt tears prick your eyes before they ran down your cheeks. "god, if you could see yourself right now, looking like a fucking wet dream. almost wants to make me take a picture to send to you lousy boyfriend, but he doesn't deserve to see this sight anymore."

"nicho." you cry, feeling your stomach clench. it felt like too much but not enough. "nicho, please."

"come on, baby. let me feel you come around me. something he'll never experience again."

your vision turned white as your orgasm hit you, nearly knocking the breath out of you. he groaned as you clenched around him, but he didn't stop, continuing to hit deep inside of you even through your orgasm. "my good fucking girl."

his fingers dug into your hips, bruising the skin as his thrusts turned messy. he collapsed onto you, chest pressing into your back as he groaned into your ear. he still inside of you, spilling into the condom. your orgasms left the both of you trying to catch your breaths. nicholas rested his head against your spine as he recovered.

you whimper as he slides out of you, helping you to lay on your back. his lips found yours as he rolled the condom off, throwing it away. he rested his head against yours, sleepy eyes finding yours. "did i do exactly what i said i would? did i clear this pretty little head?"

"you did that and so much more." you answered, words slightly slurred. "now i'm jealous of every woman that's been with you."

nicholas chuckled slightly at your words. "you don't have to be jealous. just break up with your boyfriend, and this could be yours."

"stop fucking with me." you shove at his chest, trying to push him away. he doesn't move though, staying close to you.

"i'm not." he argues. "i should've never agreed to forget last year."

your eyes widened at the confession. "why did you then?"

"because i thought you wanted to."

"i didn't." you told him, shocking him. "i did it because you pulled away that night, so i thought you didn't feel the same. that's why i started talking to him, so i could try to get over you."

"fuck baby." his lips found yours, kissing you with a newfound passion. "break up with him. please."

you nod your head, feeling as he sighs in relief. "come be my back up?"

"i was going to go with you whether you wanted me to or not." nicholas told you. "because you're mine now, isn't that right baby?."

you smile as he kisses you. "i guess so."

---

The ceiling fan is starting to irritate you. 

As it usually does, which Shotaro would say if he was here. It’s this dull, humming sound in the midst of the cars beeping down on the street floor. Your apartment is only two floors up and you can hear the occasional yell of a pedestrian and the pounding of feet on the pavement below.

Your husband has gone to get vegetables for tonight’s dinner because you had forgotten to get them after your grueling shift today. Shotaro said that you were too excited about bringing home those chocolates he liked so much.

God forbid you get enthusiastic to surprise your husband with something he likes.

Of course, despite you saying the vegetables could be forgotten tonight, Taro insisted because you hardly ate a vegetable ever. A bit dramatic, you thought.

What you estimated would be an hour trip has stretched into fifteen minutes late, though. Then thirty, forty and fifty minutes. Two whole hours.

“What is he, buying the whole store?” You groan to yourself, grabbing the end of the kitchen counter to twist and stretch your back.

As if on cue, the front door’s lock is being jingled around, and you smirk, hearing Shotaro struggle to jam the house key in. You hear him swear in Japanese under his breath through the thin wood, laughing to yourself before hopping off the counter to unlock the door.

Cocking a sarcastic brow, you swing it open with a smile. “The key is upside down.” 

Taro looks up, mouth slightly agape in surprise before breaking into a grin. “How did you know?”

You don’t respond, instead sparing your husband’s feelings by taking two bags off his hands. 

“Because all the scratches on the doorknob are from you. Who else? A robber trying to break in?” 

“You think you’re so hilarious, huh?” He giggles, toeing his boots off as you shuffle into the kitchen to place down the groceries.

“Why did you take so long, by the way? I almost started our show without you.” 

You’re completely joking but it riles Taro up anyway, who lands a soft kick to your ass at the teasing. 

“You wouldn’t! Besides, I got sidetracked. I ran into Jerry with his street cart and bought the usual watermelon off him, of course. Then we started chatting about how his wife and kids are doing, so… there was that.”

“What, for an hour?” You say incredulously, swinging behind Taro to take a bite of his upper forearm, firm with muscle from dancing. 

Your hands tug at his shirt, skimming the skin on his smooth stomach but Shotaro doesn’t complain, eyes laser-focused on unloading vegetables from plastic bags. 

“You know how I am. I could listen to that old man talk forever. I think he made about five sales in the time I was dawdling around him.” 

“And you…” Your eyes scan the large amount of groceries stretched on your countertop. “Managed to spend about 50 dollars more than you said you would…” 

Taro knocks his hip into yours. “Hey! I bought you mangoes! You said they were in season!” 

“And what about the vegetables, darling? There’s enough to feel like I’m about to partake in Veggie Tales right now.” 

“Babe, c’mon,” He says with a giggle, planting a kiss onto your cheek. “We both know you need this. I refuse to be married to someone that has a diet of a picky toddler.” 

“Why do you have to be right?” You groan to the ceiling, dramatically collapsing into Taro’s back, who easily turns to catch you with an amused sigh. 

“You’re acting like I’m torturing you by feeding you actual fiber.”

You make a complaining noise just for the fun of it, tucking your face into his neck. His strong arms circle around your entire torso, happily smiling as he noses your cheek to see your face.

“Taro, just shush… I missed you. Can't you see you were basically torturing me by taking forever?”

“I was only gone for two hours!”

“That’s far too long for me!"

"your cheeks are so red, it's kind of adorable." euijoo's jaw tightens at that, eyes narrowing, and you smile, because it’s working. piece of cake. every twitch and barely-there hitch of breath makes you want to provoke further.

to put it very simply, you love ragebaiting your boyfriend. it's not your fault that his reactions are to DIE for. and if it somehow leads to him giving you the best orgasm of your life, who are you to complain?

you bite your lip and trail your nails along his broad chest, tracing patterns over his t-shirt like the insufferable tease you are, “is everything okay? you look like you could snap any second.” when his body shudders and his cheeks heat up, you feel ignited. your hand slides lower, brushing the waistband of his pants, watching him try to stay collected, like he isn't unraveling under your touch. you can’t help but giggle, pressing just enough to make him grunt, just enough to see that flustered tension in his posture.

but then the bedroom door clicks shut, and suddenly the teasing doesn’t feel safe anymore. you hesitate, your confidence wavers, and the brat in you, the one who thought she could get on euijoo's nerves forever, stumbles. he moves; slow at first, deliberate, because he knows how much it takes to make you melt. 

he swiftly grabs your wrists and traps them above your head, gaze dark and full of intent. “you’re so damn needy. can't behave for five fucking minutes,” he mutters, low and dangerous. you grin, pleased, chest heaving, “what? is my sweet boyfriend gonna punish me?” and the way he curses makes a shiver run straight through your leaking cunt.

wordlessly, he turns you around to face the wall, and bends you over, "you gonna be a good girl now? hm?” you do your best to scoff. however, you falter, too caught up in the grip of him tugging at your hair, pressing his hips into your ass as he grinds languidly. he’s not yelling, not angry — he has never and would never treat his precious angel like that. he’s… in control. and, god, you feel it everywhere. 

“fuck… s-shit, juju… so big—” you automatically arch your back when his cock nudges inside your gummy walls. every delicious thrust and every low groan from him makes you forget what your agenda was in the first place. your moans escape before your mouth can form the words, cunt clenching around him pathetically.

euijoo hums, teeth sinking into your sensitive neck as he fucks you fast and rough, “yeah, that’s right… i like you better when—mfmgh—your pussy's choking on my dick, baby.” you whimper as he pants against your skin because you know you can’t fight him on this.

and even when you try—oh, you do—twisting your hips, attempting to run away to hint at some semblance of retaliation, it’s useless. his hips snaps against yours with a rhythm you can’t outsmart, and gradually, whatever fire you had left disappears. your act crumbles piece by piece, swallowed by how completely you’re euijoo's. 

it’s thrilling, humiliating and electric at once. 

because the guy who looked cute and gullible in the living room? he’s gone, replaced by someone devilishly filthy, and all you can do is surrender bit by bit, screaming his name while your brattiness fades into desperate need.

✸ byun eui-joo ⋆∗⁑ caramel apples

the kitchen smelled like sugar and cinnamon, the air thick with the sweet scent of bubbling caramel. freshly washed apples gleamed in the bowl on the counter, at least until things started to go wrong.

“okay,” you say, dipping the apple carefully into the pot. “you just have to twist it and let it drip like this—”

the apple slipped off the stick and vanished into the caramel with a plop.

eui-joo tried, really tried, not to laugh. “wow; very professional.”

you gave him a mock glare. “okay, like you could do any better?”

“absolutely.” he grabbed another apple with confidence and dipped it in, swirling it like a pro. “see? smooth. controlled. perfect—”

the apple slid right out of his hands, splattering caramel across the counter— and his hoodie

your laughter came in delighted bursts. “smooth, huh?”

he looked down at himself, sticky and mortified. “okay, that was… part of the process.”

“sure it was,” you teased, reaching over to swipe a glob of caramel off his sleeve. “chef of the year.”

“oh. now you’re asking for it.”

before you could react, he flicked a drop of caramel on your check.

you gasped, laughing. “did you just throw caramel at me?”

eui-joo grinned. “call it payback.”

you dipped a finger into the caramel pot and smudged it onto his jaw. “now we’re even.”

“not quite,” he murmured, stepping closer. the laughter lingered between you two, soft and electric. he reached up, brushing your cheek where the caramel had landed; his thumb gentle on your skin.

your breath caught. “you missed a spot,” you whispered.

“where?” he asked, smiling.

you tilted your chin up just enough to close the gap between you. the kiss was warm, sweet, and a little clumsy, like everything else you’d done that afternoon. the taste of caramel lingered, soft and sweet-flavored.

when you finally pulled apart, you were grinning. “we’re a mess.”

he laughed, sticky fingers still resting on your waist. “yeah,” he said, “but it’s the most fun of a mess that i’ve ever made.”

the apples were uneven, the counter was a disaster, and caramel clung to everything in reach, but the kitchen had never felt so perfectly golden.

✸ koga yudai ⋆∗⁑ apple orchard

the orchard was drenched in the rich smell of cider— sun-warmed apples and cinnamon. rows of apple trees stretched out in perfect lines, their branches heavy with red fruit that glowed in the afternoon sun like tiny lanterns.

“okay,” you said, brushing the hair the wind blew into your face. “whoever finds the biggest apple wins.”

yudai tilted his head. “and what exactly does the winner get?”

you grinned. “i don’t know— bragging rights? maybe… a kiss?”

that got his attention. “then i am definitely winning.”

you laugh and dart ahead between the rows, scanning the trees for the perfect one. “we’ll see about that,” you throw over your shoulder playfully. 

yudai follows close behind you, his hands shoved into his pant pockets, watching you reach up toward a gleaming apple high above your head. you stretched onto your toes, your fingers barely grazing it.

“you’re too short,” he teased.

“am not!”

he smirked. “here— let me help.”

before you could protest, he stepped up behind you, hands settling at your waist. you gasped softly as he lifted you, steady and effortless, until you could pluck the apple from the branch. when he sets you back down again, your laughter bubbled out like sunlight through the leaves. 

“got it!” you said, holding it up proudly. “teamwork.”

“pretty sure that i did most of the work,” he said, still close enough for his breath to brush your ear.

you turned, apple still in hand, your smile softening. “then maybe you deserve a little credit.”

he leaned in before you could say anything else— slowly, giving you time to stop him, though you didn’t. the kiss was gentle, sweet, tasting faintly of apples and warmth and something new.

when they finally pulled back, you giggle quietly, brushing your thumb over his sleeve. “guess that means you win.”

he grinned, eyes still on you. “funny,” he said, “feels like we did.”

somewhere nearby, the trees swayed in the soft breeze, and the world smelled of sugar and sunlight and the promise of something beginning.

✸ wang yixiang ⋆∗⁑ renaissance fair

your bedroom looked like a medieval dressing room exploded. corsets, velvet skirts, belts, and capes were strewn across the bed, and he was in the middle of it all— grinning like a kid on christmas.

“i can’t believe you went this all out,” you said, laughing as he adjusted the chain around his tunic. “you’ve been planning this for weeks, haven’t you?”

nicholas didn’t even try to deny it. “of course! the renaissance fair only comes once a year. this is the event.”

you leaned against the door frame, your arms crossed. “you’re really into this, huh?”

he turned toward you, eyes bright. “into it? I was born for this. i’m talking turkey legs, lute music, sword fights— everything.”

your laugh softened as he picked something up from the bed and held it out with a flourish. “and,” he said dramatically, “your outfit, my lady.”

you blinked. “you picked one for me?”

“obviously.” he looked almost bashful for a second. “i wanted it to match mine.”

it was a gown— a soft, flowing thing of midnight blue with golden embroidery at the sleeves. when you held it up, the fabric caught the light and shimmered faintly.

“wow,” you whispered. “this is… beautiful.”

“i thought so,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “i, uh, might’ve done some research to make sure it was historically accurate.”

“you researched?” you teased. “that’s dedication.”

“hey, if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.” he grinned, trying to sound casual but clearly proud of himself. “now go on—try it on.”

a few minutes later, when you stepped out from behind the door, he froze mid-sentence. the teasing grin faded, replaced by something softer, quieter.

“you… wow,” he said, blinking. “you look—”

“like someone who got roped into your nerdy fantasy fair?” you joked, but your voice was warm.

he shook his head slowly. “no. like royalty.”

the way he said it wasn’t playful—it was earnest. His gaze swept over you, taking in the way the dress curved and shimmered, the faint flush in your cheeks. “you look perfect,” he murmured, almost to himself.

your heart fluttered. “you really think so?”

“i know so.” he stepped closer, adjusting the golden circlet he’d set in your hair. “if anyone asks, i’ll just tell them i’m your loyal knight. or maybe your hopelessly devoted peasant.”

you laughed, reaching up to straighten the laces on his tunic. “you’d make a pretty good knight, actually.”

“oh?” nicho said, grinning again. “does that mean i get to defend your honor?”

“if it involves sword fighting and turkey legs? sure.”

he leaned down, brushing a quick kiss to your forehead. “then my quest begins.”

you smiled, lacing your fingers with his as you grabbed your cloaks and headed for the door.

as you stepped out into the crisp morning, he looked you over one last time and murmured, “still can’t believe you said yes to dressing up with me.”

you bumped his shoulder. “well,” you said, “when my knight insists i look like a queen, how could i refuse?”

he grinned, cheeks pink. “then let’s go, your majesty.”

✸ nakakita yuma ⋆∗⁑ haunted house

the line outside the haunted house twisted around the foggy courtyard, filled with laughter, shrieks, and the smell of kettle corn. you clutched your boyfriend’s arm, watching a group of people run out of the exit screaming, and one of them actually dropped their phone mid-sprint.

“okay,” you said slowly. “maybe this was a bad idea.”

yuma laughed, though there was a nervous edge to it. “bad idea? nah. totally fine. we’ve got this.”

“you sure?” you asked, arching a brow. “you just flinched when that plastic skeleton rattled.”

“that was— deliberate flinching,” he said, straightening his hoodie. “i was… assessing the threat.”

you grinned, nudging him. “you’re adorable when you pretend to be brave.”

before he could respond, the attendant waved you both inside. the moment you crossed the threshold, the light dimmed, and the air turned cold and stale. the door slammed shut behind you.

he jumped. “okay, that was loud,” he muttered.

you squeezed his hand tighter. “you sure you don’t want to turn back?”

his jaw set in mock determination. “no way; we’re in this together.”

a whisper echoed from the dark hallway ahead, soft and eerie. come closer, it whispered.

you both froze.

“…did that come from the speaker or an actual person?” yuma asked, voice cracking just slightly.

“let’s not find out,” you whispered, tugging him along.

you crept down the corridor, past flickering lanterns and fake cobwebs. something brushed your shoulder— probably a decoration, but you yelped anyway.

yuma jumped, too, gripping your hand so tight you almost laughed. “you scared me!” he said, like you were the problem.

“me?!” you whisper-yelled. “you’re the one who’s shaking!”

“i’m not shaking,” he said defensively. “i’m just… moving methodically in response to stimuli.”

“right,” you said, grinning despite your pounding heart.

a sudden bang made you both scream—like, full-on scream,  and you instinctively threw yourself into his chest. he wrapped his arms around you so fast that you ended up half hiding in his hoodie, both of you trembling and laughing at the same time.

“okay, that one was not fair,” he gasped, glancing around. “they need a warning system or something.”

“yeah,” you said into his chest, muffled. “like a little sign that says, “prepare to die now.”

you inched forward again, clinging to each other the whole way, jumping at every shadow, every creak, every fake ghoul that lunged out of nowhere. by the time you reached the final hallway, you were both giggling uncontrollably from sheer adrenaline.

when the exit finally came into view, yuma groaned in relief. “we made it. we survived.”

the second you stepped outside, you both burst into laughter, doubling over.

“i can’t believe how scared you were,” you teased, wiping your eyes.

“me? you were hiding behind me the entire time!” he said, mock-offended.

“yeah, and you were hiding behind your own hoodie.”

he gave you a look, then pulled you close with a grin. “fine. we were both terrified.”

“tragically,” you agreed, smiling up at him.

“guess there’s only one way to calm down after all that,” he said, tilting his head.

you raised an eyebrow. “and that is?”

he leaned in, whispering against your ear, “a victory kiss. for surviving the horrors of… budget animatronics.”

you laughed, but before you could reply, he kissed you— soft and a little breathless, both of you still laughing into it. when he pulled back, his eyes were bright and warm.

“see?” he said. “told you we could handle it.”

you smirked. “barely.”

he grinned, looping an arm around your shoulders as you walked away. “next year, let’s just do the corn maze.”

“deal,” you said. “way fewer ghosts.”

✸ asakura jo ⋆∗⁑ pumpkin patch

the pumpkin patch stretched out beneath the high noon sun— rows of orange and yellows scattered across the field, just waiting to be chosen. the air was crisp and smelled faintly of hay and something earthy. the chatters of families mingling drifted in from the nearby hay rides.

you walked ahead, your boots crunching against the dry grass. “come on,” you called over your shoulder, grinning. “we need to find the right pumpkin. the perfect one.”

jo followed a few paces behind, hands stuffed in the pockets of his flannel jacket, trying not to trip over the vines. “they all look the same to me,” he mumbled, but there was a small, shy smile tugging at his lips.

“they do not,” you insist, crouching to examine one. “this one’s too small. this one’s lopsided. ooh, this one’s cute—”

he laughed quietly, kneeling beside you. “you’re judging pumpkins by their cuteness?”

“obviously. what else would i judge them by?”

he shrugged, glancing at you rather than the pumpkins. “you’re kind of cute when you get all serious about this.”

that earned him a look— half amused, half surprised. “did you just call me cute, mr. shy guy?”

his ears turned a little pink. “i, um. maybe.”

you grinned, standing and brushing dirt off your jeans. “you should say it more often. it looks good on you.”

he ducked his head, smiling sheepishly. “noted.”

you wandered a bit longer, weaving through the patch. the light softened into amber, catching in your hair. every so often you’d hold up another pumpkin for inspection, and every time he’d nod earnestly, as if it were the most important decision in the world.

finally, you spotted one half-hidden under a tangle of vines. “hey! what about this one?”

he bent down beside you, brushing off the dirt. it was perfectly round, deep orange, and a little too heavy for you to lift on your own. “looks like the one,” he said softly. “want me to carry it?”

you smiled. “you don’t have to—”

jo was already lifting it, muscles straining just a little as he cradled it in his arms. “it’s fine. got it.”

you laughed, reaching up to steady it. your fingers brushed his, and he froze for a second— warmth blooming up his neck.

“thanks,” you said softly. “you’re kind of sweet, you know that?”

he looked at you, flustered but smiling. “you make it easy to be.”

for a moment, the patch went quiet around you, just the rustle of leaves and the distant sound of kids laughing near the tractor. you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, quick but warm.

When you pulled back, his cheeks matched the pumpkins, bright.

“so,” you say, grinning, “think we found the perfect one?”

he cleared his throat, still smiling shyly. “yeah,” he said, glancing at you rather than the pumpkin. “i think we did.”

✸ shigeta harua ⋆∗⁑ hay ride

the sun was sinking low, painting the sky in soft shades of amber and rose as you climbed onto the hay wagon. the air smelled like apples and wood smoke, and the distant hum of laughter drifted from the nearby bonfire. the bales of hay were scratchy but warm, the kind of cozy that made you want to lean into someone.

harua helped you up, his hand firm around yours. “careful,” he said with that teasing smile of his. “wouldn’t want my favorite person to take a tumble before the ride even starts.”

you rolled your eyes, but you didn’t let go of his hand right away. “favorite person? how many do you have?”

he laughed, shaking his head. “just the one who steals all the cider samples when i’m not looking.”

“yay,” you said, pretending to pout, “they were free.”

the wagon jolted forward, pulled by two slow, gentle horses, and the rest of the world seemed to fall away. the sound of the wheels crunching over dirt, the rustle of cornstalks, the faint creak of wood— it was all soft and steady. he draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in until your head fit perfectly against his chest.

“see?” he murmured. “worth it.”

you smiled, tracing lazy circles on his sleeve. “what is?”

“this,” he said simply. “the stars, the hay, you here with me.” he hesitated for a second, then added in a quieter voice, “i’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

your heart melted a little. you tilted your head up to look at him, catching the faint blush that colored his cheeks in the fading light. “you’re kind of a softie, you know that?”

he chuckled. “don’t tell anyone. i have my reputation to protect,” he teased.

the ride wound through the fields, the golden stalks towering on either side. you could see the barn in the distance glowing with string lights, but you weren’t in any hurry to get there. you shifted a little closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand.

he glanced down, his voice low. “you’re freezing,” he murmured, tugging his flannel loose and wrapping it around your shoulders.

you smiled into the fabric. “now you’re going to be cold.”

“doesn’t matter,” he said. “you look too cute all bundled up.”

for a moment, neither of you said anything. the air was crisp, full of the scent of hay and earth. when you looked up again, his gaze had softened— steady and full of that quiet affection that didn’t need words.

you leaned in just enough for your noses to brush, the world narrowing to the warmth between you.

“is this where i’m supposed to kiss you?” he whispered.

“only if you want to,” you teased.

he smiled—and kissed you anyway.

it was slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that made everything else fade out— the creaking wagon, the cool wind, even the stars above. when you finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, smiling like a fool.

“best hay ride ever,” he said softly.

you laughed, tucking yourself back into his side as the wagon rolled on. “told you fall dates were magic.”

he kissed the top of your head. “only when it’s with you.”

✸ takayama riki ⋆∗⁑ apple dunking

the barn was strung with warm lights, music thumping softly over the hum of chatter and laughter. the smell of cider, hay, and pumpkin pie mingled in the air. near the center of it all sat the big galvanized tub filled with cold water and shiny red apples bobbing on the surface.

“alright,” you said, grinning at taki as you pushed your sleeves up, “time to prove your skills.”

he eyed the tub warily. “skills? you mean humiliating myself in front of everyone?”

“exactly,” you reply sweetly. “don’t worry, i’ll go easy on you.”

taki smirked. “oh, i am not losing to you.”

you knelt beside the tub first, hair slipping over your shoulder as you leaned in. the crowd cheered softly as you tried, lips brushing the water’s surface. after a few swipes, you came up triumphant, apple clamped tight between her teeth.

you held it up proudly. “see? easy.”

he stared. “how— how did you even do that?”

“talent.” you winked, taking a dramatic bite. “your turn, champ.”

he rolled his eyes, bending down as you crossed your arms, clearly enjoying yourself. the instant his face hit the water, you started to laugh. His hair stuck to his forehead, water dripping down his cheeks as he came up empty-handed the first time.

“wow,” you teased. “so graceful.”

“just warming up,” he clarified, shaking his hair like a wet dog.

“sure, sure.”

on his next try, he managed to grab one, emerging with the apple clenched triumphantly between his teeth. the crowd whooped.

he took it out, grinning at you. “see? perfect form.”

you snorted. “you splashed half the tub on me!”

he glanced at your damp sweater and smirked. “guess i got you back for that teasing.”

you nudged him with your shoulder. “you’re impossible.”

he leaned a little closer, voice dropping just enough to be heard over the music. “you love it.”

you opened your mouth to fire back, but he brushed his thumb across your cheek, wiping away a stray droplet of water. your breath caught.

“see?” he murmured. “didn’t even need to bob for this apple.”

“cheesy,” you whispered, but you were smiling when he bent down and kissed you, the faint taste of cider and laughter between them.

when they finally pulled apart, you laughed quietly. “you still lost, you know.”

he grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “maybe. but i think i got the better prize.”

✸ hirota riki ⋆∗⁑ watching a horror movie

the room was dim, the only light flickering from the tv as the movie’s eerie soundtrack filled the space. a bowl of popcorn sat forgotten between them on the couch.

“i’m just saying,” maki claimed, trying to sound causal, “this stuff doesn’t scare me. it’s all jump cuts and cheap sound effects.”

you arched a brow. “uh-huh. you sure about that?”

he gave you a confident grin, leaning back and stretching one arm over the back of the couch in what was clearly a move. “totally. i’ve seen way worse.”

on-screen, the music swelled— low and tense. the camera panned slowly toward a dark doorway.

you could feel him stiffen beside you.

“don’t tell me you’re actually scared,” you teased, glancing sideways at him.

“what? no,” he replied quickly, reaching for a handful of popcorn he didn’t eat. “i’m just… anticipating.”

the ghost appeared out of nowhere with a shriek.

he jumped; actually jumped— hand flying to his chest, eyes wide before he tried to play it off. “okay, that one was, uh, louder than i expected.”

you bit your lip to keep from laughing. “louder, huh?”

“yeah,” maki said, clearing his throat, “just bad sound mixing. that’s all.”

the next scene grew quieter, full of slow, creeping dread. you noticed his hand resting near yours— tense, fingers twitching every time something rustled on screen.

“do you want me to—?” you started, teasing.

he shot you a look. “don’t you dare say, turn it off.”

“i was going to say hold your hand,” you said innocently.

that earned you a sheepish grin. “oh. well. in that case…”

he reached out, your fingers brushing, then tangling together. his palm was a little warm, a little shaky.

another jump scare hit— a sudden scream, and he instinctively tightened his grip, pulling you closer.

you burst out laughing. “You’re definitely scared.”

he groaned, hiding his face in your shoulder. “i hate this movie.”

“no,” you teased, running a thumb over his hand, “you just hate being caught.”

he peeked up at you, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “fine. maybe a tiny bit scared. but only because you keep laughing at me.”

“mm-hm. sure.”

when the movie finally ended and the credits rolled, he refused to admit he’d spent half of it clinging to your arm. but as the lights came back on, you smiled at him, warm and teasing.

“next time,” you said, “we’re watching a rom-com.”

maki smirked, pretending to recover his composure. “deal. as long as i still get to hold your hand.”

NOTE:

( a.k.a. the unfortunate man who willingly signed up to live with you through all versions of yourself—including Period You, which is arguably the most terrifying edition. )

He peeks his head in from the kitchen, wide-eyed like a kid sneaking cookies.

“Baby…?” His voice is soft, tentative. He’s holding a steaming mug.

“What,” you grumble, though you don’t even look at him. Your forehead stays pressed against your knees.

“I made you ginger tea. Google said it helps.” He pads over, sets the mug on the coffee table, and crouches down to eye level. His hair falls into his eyes, and he blows at the strand instead of tucking it away, which for some reason makes you want to both kiss and strangle him.

You mutter, “Google should mind its own business.”

Euijoo doesn’t flinch. He’s learned—your moods are like thunderstorms. The trick is not to run from the rain but to hold an umbrella over you until the skies clear.

“Okay,” he says simply. Then, in the most exaggerated whisper, “Do you… want me to go away, scary tiger wife?”

That pulls a reluctant snort out of you. “Don’t call me that.”

“But you’re fierce. Roar at me once?” His eyes twinkle with mischief.

You glare, lips twitching against your will. “Roar.”

He gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like you’ve mortally wounded him. “Too powerful. I’ve been slain.” He flops onto the carpet, arms sprawled like some Shakespearean tragedy.

“Idiot,” you mumble, but your mouth curves into a smile anyway.

That’s the thing about Euijoo—he doesn’t try to “fix” you when you’re moody. He just stays, offering small comforts and silly antics like a kid performing magic tricks. You sip the tea despite yourself. It’s sweet, just like him.

A beat of silence passes. Then he perks up again

“Want me to sing to you?”

“No.”

“Want me to do aegyo?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Want me to walk to the graveyard instead?” He tilts his head, faux-serious.

You laugh, a small, shaky burst. “Yeah. Go dig your grave.”

“But then who’s gonna warm your rice sock for your tummy? Who’s gonna rub your back? Who’s gonna brave the monster?” He leans closer, his grin boyish, almost smug. “You can’t get rid of me, beloved. Either I follow you around, or I walk to the graveyard. No in-between.”

That’s when the lump forms in your throat. Because he’s saying it like a joke, but he means it too. He’s here. Always here. Even when you’re sharp-tongued, messy-haired, snapping at the world.

And suddenly, you’re crying.

Euijoo’s eyes widen, alarmed. “Wait—no—why—did I actually offend you?!” He scoots closer, frantic hands hovering like he doesn’t know whether to hold your face or fetch tissues. “I swear I didn’t mean the monster thing, you’re my prettiest tiger, you’re—”

You shake your head, tears spilling faster. “You’re just—so sweet, and I’m so mean, and I don’t deserve you, and—”

“Stop.” His voice softens instantly. He cups your cheeks, thumbs brushing away tears even as they keep coming. “Hey. Don’t you dare say that.”

You hiccup, clinging to his sleeves like a lifeline.

He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’m here because I want to be. Not because you’re perfect every second, but because you’re you. Even when you’re moody. Even when you roar.”

You laugh through the sobs, watery and small. “You’re insane.”

“I’m in love,” he corrects gently. Then, like he’s offering a treaty, “So. Will you let me live? Or should I prepare my headstone now?”

You swat at his chest weakly, still crying but now giggling too. “Shut up.”

“Mm, that sounded like ‘live.’ I’ll take it.” He tucks you against him, wrapping you in his arms so tight it’s almost smothering—but exactly what you need. His chin rests on your hair as he murmurs, “Follow your wife or walk to your graveyard, right? Easy choice.”

And despite the cramps, despite the mood swings, despite the tears—you believe him. Because with Byun Euijoo, love feels less like surviving storms and more like learning to dance in the rain.

TAGLIST: @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @teddywonss @taerae-verse @bbangbies @voucearse @ruurooozz @wensurr

NETWORKS: @lune-net @k-films @k-labels @k-records

Anton Lee had a way of filling a hallway without trying.

Broad shoulders, easy stride, head slightly bowed like he wanted less attention when his body demanded more of it. He never said much, his voice quiet whenever someone tried to drag him into conversation. But his silence was never awkward. It was steady. Watchful.

Nayeon noticed him before she realized she was noticing.

The first time was at the campus gym pool— her friends had dragged her to cheer for the swim team. She didn’t care for sports, not really, but she carried her camera anyway, out of habit. It gave her hands something to do. Through the lens she caught flashes of him: slicing through water, chest and arms flexing as he pulled himself out of the pool, wet hair dripping into dark eyes.

Too handsome. Too untouchable.

She pretended not to look. She told herself she wasn’t interested. She had no business being interested.

But then came the small crossings.

Passing him in the library stairwell. Seeing him sit outside the lecture hall she was leaving. Once, standing in line at the café and catching him glance at her camera strap dangling at her wrist. Their eyes brushed for half a second before she looked away so fast she nearly bumped into the person ahead of her.

She was always the one to turn away first. Always.

What she didn’t know was that Anton remembered her.

Not in the obvious way— no, he didn’t stare, didn’t smile like the other guys on the team who threw winks at any girl in sight.

He only… took note. Observed.

The quiet girl from the photography club, always dragged into places by her friends. Always polite, always nodding along, but her eyes told a different story.

Reserved. Careful.

And maybe, just maybe, she lingered on him a little longer than she meant to.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

The party wasn’t Nayeon’s idea. It never was.

Her friends thrived in crowded houses where music pulsed through the floorboards, where drinks sloshed in red cups and laughter spilled too loud. She, on the other hand, clung to the edges, cup half-full, smiling when she had to.

She spotted Anton almost instantly.

He leaned against the far wall, beer in hand, looking completely out of place yet somehow magnetic in the chaos. He wasn’t talking much, just listening to his teammates banter, nodding occasionally.

But she caught it again— that moment when his gaze swept across the room and landed on her.

Brief. Steady.

Enough to make her heart stumble.

And then someone shouted.

“Truth or Dare!”

Of course.

Nayeon was pulled into the circle before she could protest, knees pressed awkwardly against the carpet, her friends giggling beside her. Anton, to her horror and thrill, was dragged in too.

The dares started harmless.

Chug your drink. Text your ex. Dance on the table.

The crowd loved it, the room echoing with cheers.

Then it was Anton’s turn.

“Truth or dare, Anton?” one of his teammates grinned, clearly eager to put him on the spot.

Anton’s lips curved faintly. “Truth.”

Booing followed, but the question came quick.

“How many girls on campus have you kissed?”

Nayeon nearly choked on her drink.

Anton didn’t flinch. “None.”

The circle erupted. “Bullshit!” “Liar!”

He only shrugged, calm as ever. “Why would I lie?”

Nayeon’s cheeks burned. She kept her eyes on the floor, but something in her chest throbbed at the thought. None.

The game rolled on. More dares, more laughter. Until someone’s grin turned sharp and the words landed like a bomb.

“Nayeon. Truth or dare?”

Her throat tightened. “...Dare.”

“Easy. Kiss Anton.”

The room exploded into cheers, stomping feet, whistles. Nayeon froze, wide-eyed, heat climbing her face. She looked at him without meaning to. Anton sat across from her, relaxed, gaze steady. Waiting.

Her friends nudged her. “Go on!”

Her pulse roared in her ears. People-pleaser that she was, she leaned forward, intending to make it quick, just a brush to silence the crowd. Her lips grazed his, feather-light—

And then his hand caught her wrist.

Her breath snagged as Anton tugged her back, not rough but sure. His mouth pressed to hers again, slower this time, deliberate.

A real kiss, deep enough for silence to fall before the circle erupted louder than ever.

When he pulled back, Nayeon’s face was on fire. Anton’s expression hadn’t changed much— calm, unreadable, but his eyes on her were heavy.

The game rolled on, but she barely heard it. Her lips still tingled.

And then the bottle spun.

It clattered to a stop, the neck pointing straight between them.

The crowd howled. “Seven minutes in heaven!”

Before she could protest, hands pushed them both toward the nearest closet.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

The closet door slammed, and the lock clicked shut.

Darkness pressed in, hot and heavy, with only the muffled bass of the party seeping through the walls.

Nayeon leaned back against the wall, trying to sound casual even as her pulse pounded in her throat.

“This is stupid. We can just… wait it out.”

Anton’s voice was low, steady, far too close in the dark. “You don’t actually want to wait.”

Her chest tightened. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because you kissed me back.”

She opened her mouth, but before she could answer, Anton closed the distance.

His lips crashed against hers, firm and hungry, swallowing whatever excuse she might have had. He kissed her like he’d been holding back for years, tongue slipping between her lips, hand cupping her jaw to tilt her head just right.

Her body reacted before her brain caught up, knees weak, fingers clawing at his shirt. He pressed her against the wall, his solid chest pinning her in place. She gasped into his mouth when his thigh nudged between hers, the hard muscle rubbing against the ache building between her legs.

“Anton—” she breathed, but it came out more like a moan.

He groaned at the sound, kissing down her jaw, biting lightly at her throat until she whimpered.

“Fuck, you sound good.” His hands skimmed down her body, over the swell of her breasts, squeezing until her back arched into him.

Then lower.

His fingers slid up her skirt, brushing against the heat of her panties. He felt the dampness immediately and chuckled, low and rough.

“Already soaked,” he murmured against her ear. “You’ve been wanting this too, haven’t you?”

She shook her head instinctively, but the whimper that escaped her lips betrayed her. “I—I don’t—”

“Don’t lie to me, Nayeon.” His fingers pushed her panties aside, stroking her folds with slow, deliberate pressure. She gasped, clutching at his shoulders. “Say it.”

Her chest heaved, shame and need twisting together.

“Yes,” she whispered. “For you.”

That was all he needed. He shoved two fingers inside her, filling her tight heat in one smooth thrust. Her cry echoed in the small space, hips bucking against his hand.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled, pumping his fingers deep, curling them until she trembled. “Clenching around me already. You gonna cum just from this?”

Her head dropped back against the wall, thighs shaking, the wet slap of his fingers working her filling the air. Her moans tumbled out helplessly, each one swallowed by his mouth as he kissed her again, rough and messy.

“Anton—oh god, don’t stop—”

“That’s it, good girl.” His thumb found her clit, circling fast, relentless. Her whole body jerked, pleasure tearing through her as she came hard around his fingers, crying out his name.

He didn’t give her a chance to breathe.

The sound of his zipper filled the dark, and then he grabbed her hand, guiding it down to wrap around his cock.

Thick. Heavy.

Her breath hitched as her fingers curled around him, stroking clumsily.

“Stroke me,” he ordered, his forehead pressed against hers, eyes burning even in the shadows.

“Or I’ll fuck you against this wall so hard they’ll all hear.”

Her thighs squeezed together, her pussy still pulsing from her orgasm. She pumped him faster, feeling the hot slickness at his tip. He groaned, low and guttural, gripping her hips like he was holding back with effort.

Then he snapped.

In one motion, he lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist. His cock pressed against her entrance, sliding through the wetness before pushing inside. Her scream tore out, muffled by his mouth as he swallowed it with a kiss.

“Fuck—” Anton hissed, slamming into her until he was buried to the hilt. “You’re so tight—taking me so fucking well—”

Nayeon clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, the stretch burning and perfect. Every thrust drove her higher up the wall, his hips snapping into her with raw, desperate force.

The closet filled with filthy sounds, the slap of skin against skin, the wet squelch of her pussy gripping him, their gasps and moans tangled together.

“Anton— f-fuck— so deep—” she sobbed, her head rolling back against the wall.

He growled against her neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. “You feel that? That’s me inside you. All of me.”

His pace was brutal, fucking her into the wall, every thrust hitting that spot that made her scream. Her moans grew louder, shameless, until she was shaking in his arms.

“I’m—oh god—I’m gonna—”

“Cum for me,” he demanded, driving into her harder. “Cum on my cock, Nayeon. Let me feel you.”

Her whole body seized, walls clenching around him as she shattered with a scream, wetness gushing down her thighs. He groaned, fucking her through it, his thrusts growing ragged.

“Shit— I'm gonna cum—” he snarled, hips pounding into her until he finally buried himself deep, spilling hot inside her with a guttural moan. His whole body trembled against hers, forehead pressed to hers, both of them gasping for air.

They stayed like that, tangled and ruined, sweat dripping, cum leaking down her thighs. The music outside roared on, muffled but distant.

And the door never opened.

Their friends knew.

They knew the seven minutes had long passed, but no one interrupted. They left them in their own dark heaven, moaning and shaking until neither could move.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

The party felt like a blur the next morning. At least, that’s what Nayeon told herself.

She told herself that as she sat through lectures, eyes fixed on her notes. She told herself that as her friends whispered and giggled about the “legendary” closet session, their eyes flicking knowingly in her direction.

And she told herself that every time she caught sight of Anton.

Because he was everywhere now.

In the cafeteria line. On the quad, sitting with his teammates. Passing her in the library, his dark eyes locking on her for just a second too long before she ducked her head and pretended to be busy.

She hadn’t forgotten.

How could she? Her body still remembered the ache of him, the bruises his mouth had left, the way his voice had growled her name like it belonged to him.

But she had to forget. Or at least pretend. Because facing it meant… what, exactly? That she’d fucked Anton Lee in a closet while half the party laughed outside? That she’d begged him to make her cum, and he had?

No. Better to smile politely, to keep her head down, to let it fade into the fog of alcohol and dares.

For a while, Anton let her.

He didn’t push. He didn’t speak up in public. He only watched, his expression calm, unreadable, the way it always was.

But beneath it, frustration simmered.

He remembered everything— the way she’d moaned against his mouth, how tightly she’d clung to him, the way her body had come undone for him. And now she walked past him like he was just another face on campus.

Like nothing happened.

By the end of the week, he’d had enough.

The photography lab was nearly empty when Nayeon slipped inside, camera bag slung over her shoulder. She liked it that way— the quiet hum of the enlarger, the faint chemical tang of developer trays.

Safe. Familiar.

Until the door shut behind her.

She froze. Slowly turned.

Anton stood there, broad shoulders filling the doorway, eyes locked on her with a calm intensity that made her stomach flip.

“...What are you doing here?” she asked, voice too light, too forced.

His expression didn’t change. “Looking for you.”

Her heart thudded. “Why?”

“You know why.”

She swallowed, forcing a laugh. “If this is about the party—”

“It is.” He stepped closer, the darkroom light catching the sharp lines of his face. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t—”

“Yes, you have.” His tone stayed quiet, but the edge in it cut deep. “You won’t even look at me.”

She turned away, fiddling with her camera strap. “There’s nothing to look at. We were drunk. Things got… messy. That’s all.”

Silence. Heavy.

Then his footsteps crossed the room, steady and slow until he was right behind her.

“Nayeon.” His voice was lower now, softer but dangerous. “Don’t lie to me.”

Her hands trembled against the camera. “I don’t remember, Anton. Whatever you think happened, it was just—”

He caught her wrist, gentle but unyielding, spinning her to face him. His eyes burned into hers, dark and furious and aching all at once.

“You don’t remember screaming my name while you came around my cock?” he asked, voice harsh in the quiet.

Her breath caught, her face going scarlet. “Anton—”

“You don’t remember begging me not to stop?” He stepped closer, his chest brushing hers now. “Don’t stand here and tell me it was just the alcohol. You were sober enough to feel every second of it.”

Her knees went weak, back pressing against the edge of the counter as he crowded her space.

She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t breathe.

Because he was right. And he knew it.

The silence between them stretched, thick and choking.

Anton’s hand still circled Nayeon’s wrist, his grip firm but never cruel. He could feel the quick flutter of her pulse beneath his fingers.

She yanked lightly, testing, but he didn’t let go.

“Anton,” she whispered, flustered, “you’re… you’re remembering it wrong.”

His eyes narrowed. “Am I?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. If she admitted it, if she let the words spill, then there would be no going back. Pretending would no longer be an option. And wasn’t pretending safer? Cleaner?

“You’re making it sound like—”

“Like what?” he cut in, voice low. “Like it mattered?”

Her breath caught. His eyes searched hers, sharp and searching, as if he could drag the truth out of her throat by sheer will.

And maybe he could, if he pushed harder.

But then, slowly, he exhaled. Released her wrist. Stepped back.

Nayeon nearly stumbled at the sudden freedom, the absence of his heat.

He raked a hand through his damp hair, jaw tight, expression hard to read. “Fine. Pretend it didn’t happen. If that’s what you need.”

Her chest squeezed. His voice wasn’t angry, not exactly— it was worse. Controlled. Clipped.

Like he was holding back an entire storm.

She tried to gather herself, forcing the words out. “It didn’t.”

His eyes flicked back to hers, pinning her in place. “You really believe that?”

Nayeon faltered, her throat dry. She looked away, fumbling with the strap of her bag like it could anchor her. “I have to go. I’m late.”

And just like that, she brushed past him, heart hammering against her ribs.

Anton didn’t stop her. He only watched, silent, his expression unreadable as the door shut behind her.

But after that, avoiding him wasn’t so easy.

He was everywhere. Passing her in the halls. Standing in line at the café. Leaning against the railing outside the library when she left late at night. Always calm, always composed— but his eyes never left her.

Not accusing, not demanding. Just waiting.

It made her skin prickle, her stomach knot. Because every time she told herself it had been the alcohol, every time she forced herself to believe the excuse, his steady gaze seemed to strip the lie bare.

And deep down, she hated how much a part of her wanted him to call her bluff.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

The annual campus festival was noisy, colorful, crowded— the exact kind of place Nayeon usually hated. But as part of the photography club, she had no choice but to be there, camera in hand, weaving through throngs of students to capture snapshots for the club’s display.

She’d told herself it would be fine. Big crowd, plenty of distraction. Easy to avoid him.

Until she spotted the swimming team’s booth across the courtyard.

Anton.

Tall, broad-shouldered, unmistakable even among his teammates. He wore the club’s team shirt, sleeves stretched tight over his arms, posture easy as he leaned against the table. He wasn’t doing anything extraordinary, just existing— but even from a distance, her lens lingered on him longer than it should.

Her chest tightened. She quickly turned her camera elsewhere, snapping photos of balloons and food stalls, anything but him.

But her eyes betrayed her, flicking back again and again.

And then she saw it.

One of the swimmers— tall, pretty, with glossy hair pulled into a high ponytail, drifted close to him. Too close.

She touched his arm as she laughed, fingers curling lightly against the curve of his bicep. Anton tilted his head, listening, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

Something ugly twisted in Nayeon’s chest.

She froze, her camera half-lifted, lens still pointed at them.

Jealousy.

The realization hit like a stone in her stomach.

Hot, bitter, irrational.

She had no right, none at all, and yet the sight of someone else leaning into him, touching him, made her blood run hot.

Her hands tightened around the camera.

Stupid. This was stupid. They weren’t anything. What happened in that closet didn’t mean anything. She’d decided that. She needed it to mean nothing.

So why did she want to march over there and rip the girl’s hand off him?

She sucked in a shaky breath, spun on her heel, and disappeared into the crowd.

For the rest of the day, she threw herself into work, snapping photos with ruthless focus, refusing to glance toward the swimmers’ booth again. When one of her friends called her to join for snacks, she made excuses. When another tried to drag her to watch the stage performance, she slipped away.

Anything to keep distance.

Anything to bury the jealousy clawing at her throat.

But later, when she ducked behind the library building to catch her breath, she felt it again— that heavy, piercing weight.

She didn’t have to look to know.

Anton was watching her.

Across the courtyard, leaning casually against a lamppost, his eyes fixed on her like she was the only person there. No accusation, no anger. Just steady, quiet focus.

Nayeon’s stomach knotted, heat flooding her chest. She tore her gaze away, shoving her camera into her bag, and walked off quickly.

This time, she didn’t just avoid him. She ran.

Avoidance became Nayeon’s full-time job.

If Anton entered a room, she left. If he lingered in the hallway, she ducked into the nearest classroom. If their paths crossed by accident, she kept her gaze fixed firmly on the ground, pretending she didn’t feel the weight of his eyes on her.

It was exhausting.

Worse, it didn’t work.

Because no matter how far she ran, he was there. Quiet. Unshakable. Watching.

Not chasing, not cornering her again. Just existing where she could see him— like a shadow she couldn’t shake.

And that made it worse.

At night, lying in bed, she replayed the image of that girl’s hand sliding over his arm. The way he’d tilted his head, the faint smile tugging at his lips. The picture looped in her head until her chest ached.

He can smile like that at her, but not at me.

Her fists clenched in the sheets. Good. That’s good. I don’t want him to. I don’t care.

But her body betrayed her, warmth pooling low in her stomach as memories of the closet bled through— his mouth on her throat, his hand between her thighs, the way he’d whispered her name like he owned it.

Nayeon buried her face in the pillow and groaned.

Her friends didn’t make it easier.

“Seven minutes in heaven, huh?” one of them teased over lunch, waggling her eyebrows. “More like thirty. What were you even doing in there?”

“Nothing!” Nayeon snapped too quickly, cheeks burning. She fumbled with her chopsticks, almost dropping them. “It was just… the dare. Nothing happened.”

Her friends exchanged knowing looks. “Mmhm. Sure. Totally nothing.”

She wanted to disappear.

By the end of the week, she was unraveling.

Her photos turned sloppy, her sleep was wrecked. Every time she thought she’d found her footing, she’d feel it— that heavy gaze on her back. She’d look up and find him across the library, across the courtyard, across the cafeteria, calm as ever.

Waiting.

It made her furious. It made her restless. It made her want him.

And the more that want festered, the harder she avoided him.

Because if she stopped running, even for a second, she knew the truth would catch her.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

It happened again.

The courtyard was buzzing with festival prep, students hauling boxes and stringing banners. Nayeon had her camera raised, framing shots of the chaos, pretending her pulse wasn’t already climbing just from knowing Anton’s team was stationed nearby.

She told herself she wouldn’t look. Not today. Not again.

But she did.

And there she was— the same girl, ponytail swinging, leaning into him with a laugh that seemed too rehearsed, too sweet. Her hand lingered on his shoulder this time, casual but possessive, fingers curling against the fabric of his shirt like she belonged there.

Anton didn’t push her away.

He didn’t encourage her either, not in any obvious way. Just that faint, polite smile, his usual calm. But it didn’t matter. To Nayeon, it felt like a blade twisting in her gut.

Her throat tightened. Heat flared sharp and ugly in her chest, burning through every excuse she’d clung to.

She spun on her heel, camera clutched too tight in her hand, and fled before she could humiliate herself with the expression on her face.

By the time she stumbled into the empty stairwell of the arts building, her breath was ragged.

This is stupid. This is so stupid.

She pressed her forehead against the cool wall, eyes shut tight. But shutting them only made it worse. Because the moment darkness filled her vision, the memories came rushing back— not hazy, not blurred by alcohol, but sharp and vivid.

Anton’s mouth dragging down her throat. The rasp of his voice in her ear. The heat of his hand shoving her skirt up, fingers sinking into her until she was gasping against his lips.

The way he’d pushed into her, filling her so deep she thought she might break, his grip on her hips bruising and desperate as she clung to him.

Her body shivered, betraying her, the ache of those moments still alive beneath her skin.

She remembered everything. Every second.

And no matter how hard she tried to scrub him from her mind, Anton was there— in her thoughts, in her dreams, in the restless heat that never quite faded no matter how many times she tossed and turned in her sheets at night.

The alcohol hadn’t made her want him.

It had only stripped away the walls she kept building around herself.

Walls that were crumbling now, faster and faster, no matter how she tried to patch them up.

She hated it. She hated him.

And most of all, she hated how badly she wanted him still.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Nayeon thought she was safe.

The library was quiet at night, nearly empty, the air heavy with the smell of old books. She’d stayed late, burying herself in editing photos, determined to drown out the restless thoughts Anton had left festering in her.

But when she left, slipping into the shadowed corridor, she froze.

Anton leaned against the wall by the exit, as if he’d been waiting all along.

Her stomach dropped. “You—”

“Yeah.” His voice was calm, steady, but his eyes glinted in the dim light. “You’ve been running long enough, Nayeon.”

She tightened her grip on her bag. “I told you. I don’t—”

“You don’t remember?” He pushed off the wall, stepping closer. His sheer height and breadth made the hallway feel smaller. “Funny. Because I do. Every fucking second.”

Her throat went dry.

His mouth curled faintly. “Do you know how many nights I’ve woken up because of you? How many times I’ve come in my sleep, hearing you beg me not to stop?”

Her knees nearly buckled, heat slamming through her body like a punch.

Anton’s voice dropped lower, rougher. “I’ve been dreaming about you, Nayeon. About the way you sound when I’m inside you. About how tight you feel around me. You think you can erase that with silence?”

Her breath hitched, shame and want tangling violently in her chest.

Then he held up his phone. “Give me your number.”

She blinked, startled. “What? No—”

“Or I’ll ask one of your friends,” he said simply, tone maddeningly even. “But you’ll give it to me. You want to.”

Her pulse thundered in her ears. Against every shred of reason, she rattled it off. He tapped it in, eyes never leaving hers, the weight of his smirk unbearable.

Later that night, her phone buzzed.

1 New Message.

[Anton]: don’t ignore me again

Her hands shook.

The next buzz came before she could breathe.

2 New Messages.

[Anton]: been hard ever since i saw you at the festival [Anton]: want to see?

Her chest locked tight.

Another buzz. A photo.

She gasped, heat flooding her face as she fumbled the phone. Anton, sprawled on his bed, shirt rucked up, sweatpants shoved low enough to see his cock straining against the fabric. Hard. Thick. Undeniable.

The caption burned into her vision.

[Anton]: thinking about your mouth on me

Her legs pressed together instinctively, her body betraying her with a sharp, aching throb.

She should delete it. Block him. Anything.

Instead, she stared.

Another buzz.

[Anton]: you’re wet right now, aren’t you?

Her breath shuddered out, guilt and hunger tangling until she could barely think.

And somewhere down the hall, Anton’s low chuckle echoed— because he already knew the answer.

The worst part wasn’t the picture.

It was the waiting after.

Nayeon lay on her bed, phone face-down beside her, chest tight. Every buzz made her jump. Every second she didn’t check it felt like torture.

When she caved and turned it over, the screen lit up.

[Anton]: still thinking about you in that closet [Anton]: the way you clenched around me when you came. fuck

Her throat worked, dry.

Another buzz.

[Anton]: you ever touch yourself thinking about it? [Anton]: bet you have

Her fingers curled tight around the phone, heat spiking through her veins. She typed a reply— Stop. Don’t text me. Then deleted it. Typed again— You’re disgusting. Then deleted that too.

She tossed the phone aside, burying her face in the pillow.

It buzzed again.

[Anton]: you’re quiet. that means yes [Anton]: good girl

Her body jolted, shame and want twisting deep.

By midnight, she was trembling. Her thighs pressed tight, her sheets tangled, the ache between her legs unbearable. She picked up the phone with shaking hands.

One message blinked, unread.

[Anton]: want me to stop? say it.

Her breath shuddered. Her thumbs hovered.

She typed slowly, against every nerve screaming at her to resist.

[Nayeon]: yes

Send.

The reply came instantly.

[Anton]: liar.

Her chest seized.

Another buzz. Another photo.

This time, his cock in his fist, glistening at the tip, veins thick under his grip.

[Anton]: i’m stroking it for you right now [Anton]: thinking about how you tasted

Her stomach dropped, her pulse hammering between her thighs. Her phone slipped from her hand onto the mattress.

She stared.

Her breath came ragged, shallow, as heat clawed through her chest. Before she could stop herself, she lifted the phone again, flipped the camera to front-facing. Her reflection stared back: flushed cheeks, mussed hair, lips bitten red.

Her thumb trembled. One photo. Send.

The message blinked away, leaving her stomach plummeting.

It wasn’t much— just her face, the look of her flushed and undone. But it was enough. Too much.

The three dots appeared immediately.

[Anton]: pretty [Anton]: bet you’re soaked right now

Her hand shook. She almost dropped the phone again.

Another buzz.

[Anton]: show me.

Her whole body burned, shame and desire pulling her in opposite directions until she thought she might break.

And yet, the phone stayed in her hand.

Waiting.

The phone burned hot in Nayeon’s palm. The last message sat there, mocking her.

Her body ached. Her panties were already damp, her thighs slick where they pressed together. She shouldn’t. She couldn’t. This was the line, the one she swore she’d never cross.

And yet…

Her breath shuddered as she slid her hand down, tugging the waistband of her shorts low. The cold air hit her skin, sharp against the feverish heat between her thighs.

She switched the camera. Lifted it.

For a second, shame stopped her. Her finger hovered.

Then she pressed record.

Just ten seconds. Her fingers spreading herself, glistening. A muffled whimper spilling past her lips.

She hit send before she could stop herself.

The second it left her screen, her stomach dropped.

What did I just do?

She threw the phone down, burying her face in her hands.

But when it buzzed again, she couldn’t resist. She looked.

No text. Just dots. He was typing. Then it stopped.

Another buzz.

Incoming call: Anton.

Her chest seized. She froze, trembling.

The screen glowed. Ringing. Ringing.

Her thumb slid across before she even realized it.

“...Hello?”

His voice hit her like a blow, low and rough, heavy with need. “Fuck, Nayeon.”

Her breath caught.

“You’re killing me,” he rasped. “Do you have any idea what that did to me? Seeing your pretty pussy spread open for me like that?”

Her knees curled up against her chest, her whole body trembling. “Anton—”

“You’re soaked, aren’t you?” His breath hitched, sharp in her ear. “I can hear it in your voice. I bet your fingers are still wet.”

Heat pulsed between her thighs, unbearable. She whimpered.

He groaned low, like he could see her even now. “Touch yourself for me. Right now.”

Her hand slipped between her legs before she could think, slick fingers circling her clit. She bit back a moan, the sound strangled.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice cracking faintly. “Let me hear you.”

Her eyes squeezed shut. Her hips jerked helplessly. The sound of his breath on the line— heavy, ragged, only pushed her higher.

“You think I haven’t been jerking off to the memory of you every night since that closet?” His voice dropped, raw and feverish. “You think I haven’t dreamed about fucking you on my knees, filling you up until you scream for me again?”

Her moan ripped free, loud and broken, her fingers working faster.

He groaned in response, the sound so guttural she swore she could feel it in her bones.

“Good girl,” he growled, breathless. “Cum for me, Nayeon. Cum while I’m listening.”

And with his voice dragging her over the edge, she shattered, gasping his name into the phone as her body clenched and broke around her own fingers.

For a long moment, all Nayeon could hear was her own ragged breathing— quick, shaky, broken by little whimpers as the aftershocks rippled through her.

Then she heard him.

A low, guttural sound. His breath uneven, almost a snarl. “Fuck— Nayeon—”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She curled tighter on her bed, phone pressed against her ear, every nerve in her body raw.

“Do you— do you even know,” Anton choked, voice breaking, “how hard my cock is right now?”

Her throat worked, dry. She couldn’t speak.

“You drove me insane the second you sent that video,” he went on, voice hoarse, every word jagged with restraint. “I almost— almost came just watching it. You spreading yourself open for me, whimpering like that— fuck, I can’t—”

A wet, rhythmic sound reached her ear. Her body jolted.

Her lips parted, breath catching. He was stroking himself.

Fast. Hard.

Her thighs pressed together again, the oversensitivity sparking into new heat.

“Anton…” Her whisper cracked, pleading without meaning to.

He groaned, sharp and broken, like her voice alone pushed him further. “Don’t— don’t say my name like that— I’ll fucking lose it.”

The pace quickened on the other end of the line, slick and desperate. She could almost see it — his fist pumping up and down his cock, veins standing out, tip flushed and dripping.

Her body burned all over again.

“Tell me—” His voice was ragged, almost desperate. “Tell me you’re still wet for me.”

She swallowed hard, eyes squeezing shut. “I am.”

He cursed low, almost vicious, before sucking in a sharp breath. “Fuck. Do you know what I’d do if you were here right now? I’d bend you over that bed and sink into you raw, make you scream into the pillow so no one else could hear. Fill you up till you couldn’t take anymore.”

Her moan cracked out of her, uncontained.

“That’s it,” he growled, breath tearing out of him. “Don’t stop— let me hear it— let me hear you fall apart for me again.”

The slick sound grew faster, rougher, his breath wild. “God, Nayeon— I’m so close— I’m gonna cum— fuck—”

She clutched the sheets, nails digging deep, her body trembling as if she could feel every snap of his hips against her.

“Say my name,” he demanded, voice raw, breaking.

“Anton—”

That was it.

He groaned so loud she had to bite her lip not to cry out with him. The sound of it— wet, messy, uncontrollable, filled her ear, echoing in her chest. She could hear it, the release, the low curses spilling between his gasps as he stroked himself through his climax.

Finally, silence. Only the two of them breathing, ragged and uneven, connected through the faint crackle of the line.

Then his voice came again, low and wrecked, but with a dangerous edge of a smile.

“Next time,” he murmured, still panting, “you won’t get to hide behind a phone.”

Nayeon shivered, unable to answer, the weight of what just happened crashing down.

And yet… she didn’t hang up.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Nayeon woke up to the sound of her alarm and the weight of dread pressed down harder than the sunlight streaming across her sheets.

Her phone lay on the pillow beside her, screen black, but she swore she could still hear him in her ear. His groans, his curses, the way he said her name like it belonged to him.

Heat prickled up her neck. She shoved the phone under the pillow like that would erase everything.

But nothing erased it. Not the shower she took— twice. Not the coffee she forced down. Not even the chatter of her friends in class. The memory clung to her like sweat: the way she came with her own fingers while he listened, the slick sound of his fist on his cock, his voice breaking when he finished because of her.

She could still feel it. The way her body tightened just hearing him lose control.

And worse— she wanted it again.

She wanted him again.

Her stomach twisted, a knot of shame and hunger. She avoided her friends’ curious glances, laughed when she had to, nodded at jokes she didn’t hear. Every time her phone buzzed in her bag, she froze.

But she never deleted the messages.

By evening, she gave in and checked.

A single unread text blinked back.

[Anton]: can’t stop thinking about your moans last night

Her breath hitched.

Another followed before she could put the phone down.

[Anton]: you sound even prettier when you’re about to cum

Her pulse hammered so hard it hurt. She set the phone face down on her desk, covering her face with both hands.

“No,” she whispered to herself. “No, no, no.”

But the problem was she remembered.

Every second in the closet. Every word over the phone. Every dirty thing she swore she’d forget, replaying on loop whenever she closed her eyes.

And no matter how much she told herself it was a mistake, her body betrayed her. The ache came back. The heat. The way her thighs pressed together under the desk as if seeking relief.

She hated herself for it.

She hated him more for making it impossible to stop.

And yet, when her phone buzzed again, she reached for it like she’d been waiting all day.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Days had passed since the phone call.

For Nayeon, time seemed simultaneously endless and impossibly short. Every class, every corridor, every moment between school bells felt suffocating, like the world had shrunk around her own inability to forget Anton’s voice— raw, commanding, shattering.

Even now, she could replay the phone sex perfectly in her mind: the way he’d groaned her name, ragged and needy; the way his voice had tightened when she moaned into the phone; the way he’d come, his gasps vibrating through the line like they were tangible.

Her fingers itched, her thighs burned, but she refused to give in again.

She told herself she was done. That she was in control.

And then she saw her.

The same girl from before— standing by the poolside, leaning close to Anton, laughing too loudly, brushing her fingers against his arm in that casual, intimate way that made Nayeon’s stomach drop.

Time seemed to stop. Her chest tightened, her jaw locked. The ache she had been suppressing for days suddenly burned like fire through her veins.

She wanted to turn away. She wanted to vanish. And so she did.

For the next few days, Nayeon became a ghost around him.

She skipped the photography club meetings where he might appear. She took alternate routes across campus to avoid the pool where his team trained. She ignored texts he sent— some playful, some teasing, some impossible to ignore.

Every avoidance came at a cost. Her thoughts would wander, betraying her:

Do you think he’s thinking about me now?

Does he remember the way I came for him on the phone?

What if he’s touching himself while she’s there?

Her skin flushed with heat and guilt at the mere thought.

Even in class, her attention wandered. She found herself staring at empty seats, imagining him leaning there, voice low, brushing words across her mind as he did over the phone.

When her friends tried to tease her, she snapped. When they asked if she’d texted him back, she evaded.

And every time her phone buzzed, her chest clenched, a mixture of hope and dread tearing her apart.

By the end of the week, her focus on schoolwork had deteriorated.

Photos she once took with careful framing and attention to detail now came out sloppy, haphazard, mirroring the chaos in her mind.

Every time she glimpsed Anton in the hall— tall, broad-shouldered, calm as ever, her stomach knotted. She clenched her bag tighter, blinked rapidly, and turned away.

Even as she tried to convince herself that avoiding him was the answer, a part of her knew it wasn’t. The memory of him— of that night, of the phone call, was embedded in her body, a pulse she couldn’t suppress.

And yet, she ran.

She ran from him, from the jealousy, from the truth that she could no longer deny: she wanted him, needed him, and nothing else mattered.

Across campus, Anton noticed. Always. Patient. Observant. Waiting.

The library was nearly empty, the late afternoon sunlight slanting across the stacks in golden shafts.

Nayeon had tried to convince herself that she could hide here, that she could immerse herself in her photography notes and pretend the world, and Anton didn’t exist.

She failed almost immediately.

He was there, leaning against the doorway, tall and calm, eyes locking on hers the instant he saw her.

Her chest tightened. Her stomach dropped.

She tried to slip between the shelves, to disappear into the shadows, but he moved faster, cutting off her path effortlessly.

“Really?” His voice was quiet, steady, but layered with frustration. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Days, Nayeon. Care to tell me why?”

She froze, words catching in her throat. “I—”

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” His tone softened slightly, teasing, but his eyes didn’t leave hers. “I saw the way you looked when she was with me last week. Don’t even try to lie to me.”

Her throat tightened, her fingers curling around her bag strap. “I— it’s nothing. I don’t care.”

He shook his head, stepping closer, a predator calm and sure. “Bullshit. You’re jealous. And the way you’ve been avoiding me proves it.”

Her breath hitched. “I… I don’t know why I—”

“You do,” he cut in, voice low and teasing, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear without touching her face. “You remember every second of what happened. The closet. The call. Every time I made you come. You can deny it all you want, but your body won’t lie. And neither will mine.”

Her pulse thundered. Her legs trembled. Heat pooled low in her stomach. She wanted to run. She wanted to deny. She wanted to scream.

And yet, she stayed.

Anton smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I’m not letting you run anymore, Nayeon. Not now. Not ever. I want you to stop pretending you don’t feel the way you do. I want to hear it from you.”

She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… I’m jealous. I… I don’t want anyone else… I want you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a satisfied smirk. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’ve only ever wanted you.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. “And now, I think it’s time you stop running and let me show you exactly how much I want you.”

Her knees nearly buckled. She could feel the tension in the air, the pull of him, and for the first time in days, she didn’t try to escape.

The library was empty except for the two of them, the quiet hum of fluorescent lights the only witness to the storm building between Nayeon and Anton.

She tried to focus on her notes, but her hands shook slightly, the paper slipping under her fingers. Every memory of the phone call— every moan, every desperate whimper into the line, burned in her chest.

Anton leaned closer, his shoulder brushing hers, his presence sharp and overwhelming.

“Stop pretending,” he murmured, low and dangerous, voice vibrating straight through her. “You’ve wanted me from the moment I got on the phone with you. Admit it.”

Her throat went dry. She couldn’t speak.

He smirked, one hand sliding to her wrist, holding it gently but firmly. “Look at me, Nayeon.”

She obeyed, heart hammering, pulse spiking as his dark eyes held hers like they owned her.

Without another word, he tilted her chin, brushing his lips over hers. Soft at first. Testing.

Nayeon froze, then shivered, lips parting instinctively.

His hand slid to her waist, pressing her gently against him. She could feel the heat of his body, the hard line of his chest, the strength in his arms.

Her hands went to his shoulders, clutching him as the kiss deepened. Tongues brushed, mouths moved together with a hunger that had been building since the closet, since the phone call, since the very first moment she realized she couldn’t ignore him.

Anton’s lips trailed down her jaw, her neck, whispering her name in rough, breathless murmurs. “So beautiful… so needy for me…”

Nayeon’s back arched against him, thighs pressing together under the table, trembling as his hand slid under the hem of her skirt. She gasped, breath hitching, body betraying her every attempt to stay composed.

His fingers found her slick folds, sliding inside her carefully, teasing, drawing soft moans from her lips. “God, you’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his mouth pressing against her ear.

She could only shiver, unable to speak, unable to stop the flood of sensation crashing through her. His thumb circled her clit, fingers thrusting inside her, and she moaned freely, loud, messy, entirely unashamed.

Anton’s other hand gripped her waist, steadying her, his own arousal pressing against her thigh. “You feel so good, Nayeon. I’ve waited too long to have you like this again.”

She gasped as his mouth returned to hers, tongue tangling with hers, every kiss a mixture of hunger and control. Her body shuddered, thighs trembling uncontrollably.

“Cum for me,” he whispered harshly, hand working her faster, lips nipping at her jaw and neck. “Let me hear you.”

She cried out his name, her body clenching and breaking around his fingers, waves of pleasure shaking her from head to toe.

Anton groaned against her, lips brushing her ear. “Fuck… yes. So perfect…” His own hips pressed harder, and the sound of him losing himself, close, restrained, made her gasp again.

The table, the empty library, the quiet stacks— none of it mattered. There was only them.

The ache, the heat, the need, and the first messy, perfect reunion of bodies finally giving in to everything they’d been holding back.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝