Untitled

bully!niki who’s secretly in love with you, but keeps messing with you because he’s scared. he’s never felt anything like this before, never had someone get under his skin the way you do. so instead of facing it, he pushes it away the only way he knows how—by hurting you, over and over again, convincing himself it doesn’t mean anything.

bully!niki who realizes just how much he misses you when you don’t show up to uni for a week. how empty his days suddenly are without someone to look for, to bother, to be around. and when he finally sees you again in the hallway on monday, it hits him all at once. for the first time, he has nothing to say. he stands in front of you with wide eyes, swallowing hard, before walking past you quickly like he’s running from something. and you’re left there, confused, heart beating fast.

bully!niki who’s completely caught off guard when you finally snap at him in the hallway after he calls you useless. eyes glossy with tears but filled with anger as you hit his chest, shoving him back “just shut up! what did i ever do to you?!” and for a second he’s stunned, before something in him snaps, grabbing you and pushing you back against the wall, trapping you as he kisses you hard. you try to push him away, struggling against him, but he catches your wrists and pins them beside your head, not letting you go until your resistance slowly fades, your body melting despite yourself. “you’re so cute when you yell at me.”

bully!niki who keeps pulling you into the empty library every day, hands on you the second you’re alone, kissing you breathless between the shelves. one hand slips around your throat, holding you in place while the other drifts under your shirt, until you’re both a mess,“you drive me fucking crazy, do you know that?”

bully!niki who didn’t really stop bothering you, he just stopped calling you names. now he’s always around instead, annoying you and teasing you, finding any excuse to get your attention. his hands are always on you in some way and he sometimes pulls you into a quiet corner to give you a quick kiss before letting you go.

bully!niki whose hard bulge presses against you as you make out in the the library. soft, shaky sounds slip past your lips, and you can feel yourself growing more needy, and he is too. your hand drifts down without thinking, pressing against him through his jeans, rubbing and squeezing gently, and he lets out a low, strained groan against your mouth, grip tightening on you “you dirty fucking girl…”

bully!niki whose fingers are tangled tightly in your hair as he pulls you down on his cock, your knees pressed against the cold floor, eyes wet as you struggle to keep up, softly gagging and moaning. “thaaat’s it baby girl. what a good little pet you are.” your dainty finger wrapped around what you can’t fit into your mouth, trying your best to please him, but just when it starts getting too much, he pulls you up suddenly, crashing his lips against yours.

bully!niki who has you bent over the bookshelves, your panties pushed aside as his fingers pump slowly into your drenched cunt. his hand comes up to cover your mouth, muffling the moans and whimpers that keep slipping out of you. his breath is warm against your ear as he leans in “are you always this wet when i’m around?” and all you can do is nod, eyes squeezing shut from the overwhelming feeling, completely at his mercy.

bully!niki whose big cock has you crying from how good it feels inside you. tears fall down your cheeks, some of them landing on the hand he still has pressed over your mouth to keep you quiet. he moves slowly, draaagging it out just to make you feel every inch, every vein. it’s too much and not enough all at once, your body trembling, thighs slick with your juices as you struggle to hold on while he keeps going, deeper, harder, spanking and squeezing your ass “please please please lemme cum—please—nghh!”

bully!niki who pulls out at the last second, right when he feels your pussy tighten around him, your body shaking from your orgasm, and finishes on your swollen pussy and ass cheeks, completely mesmerized by the sight. he takes a second just to look, breathing heavy, taking in everything—red marks left on your ass, glistening from his cum, your hair a mess and your neck covered in hichkies. you look completely undone beneath him, exactly how he dreams of you every night with his cock in his hands.

Brought the heat back- Jay x reader

Summary: Jay can’t help feeling jealous when his friends flirt with you.

Like a Fever – Sunoo x reader

Summary: Sunoo’s friends can’t believe he gives it to you properly; the constant teasing of how they could “treat you better” has Sunoo losing his mind.

I need your hands on me-  Sunghoon x reader

Summary: Sunghoon has never been a fan of PDA, but when he sees the boys touching you a little too comfortably; he has to remind you, you are only his.

Just like candy- Niki x reader

You can hit while they watch, boy - Niki x reader

Summary: Niki loves that you are a sweet girl. What he can't stand is the way his friends take advantage of how sweet you are.

Summary: When his friends say they’ll "teach him how to please his girlfriend” Niki loses it and uses you to show his friend he knows exactly how to please you.

Igual que un ángel- Jungwon x reader

Summary: Jungwon may seem like an angel, but his jealousy for you knows no bounds.

The universe must have divined this- Jake x reader

Summary: Jake has had his eye on you for a while, but you were talking to a fucking idiot instead of paying attention to him. He finds you all alone at the party and he can’t help but take his chance.

Nasty, but she fancy- Jake x reader

Summary: You are hot, there is no way to deny that. Everything you use looks sinful on you. While Jake’s friends make comments on the way you dress; Jake doesn’t care he knows how to fight.

Torn between two worlds and I just can’t decide – Sunghoon x reader x Jay

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who mutters curses under his breath every time you push his buttons, every time you ignore his orders like you ever would listen. “Y/n… don’t make this harder than it already is.” The way he says your name, low, strained—makes your breath hitch, and rub your thighs together under the skirt. You can’t help but think… the audacity of this man.

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who watches you flirt with other men just to get a reaction out of him, jaw clenched, fists tightening at his sides. ‘You did this to yourself. She’s not yours anymore. You don’t get to want her’ But the next second, he snaps. His hand wraps around your wrist, grip rough, dragging you somewhere no one can see. Your back hits the wall, his body crowding yours, eyes dark and burning. “Keep testing me,” he mutters, voice dangerously low, “and I swear I’ll forget why I’m supposed to stay away from you.”

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who finally snaps, professionalism slipping the moment you push him too far. His hands close around your wrists, pinning them above your head in one swift motion. His free hand tilting your chin, forcing your head to the side, exposing your neck like a goddamn offering. His voice drops, “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who’d whisper “You're such a fucking slut for my cock." his deep growl fills your ear. "You're desperate to be my good girl aren't you, love? To sit at my feet like a good little bonded mate and worship at my cock. Mmm... I would have you suck it so good. Your pussy would be dripping.” You glare, “I would NEVER. Keep dreaming asshole.”

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who notices the slight tremble in your knees and smirks, pressing his knee between them just enough to steady you—or maybe to make it worse. The tightened fabric of his pants meet with your soaked ones as you let out a low breath. His eyes flicker with amusement, “Look at you,” Sunghoon murmured. "Shaking for the monster you swore you didn't want anymore.”

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who finally has you beneath him now, the scent of you flooding his senses. A low groan claws his way from his throat at the sight of your dripping cunt. He leans down, "You're going to be the death of me." Sunghoon’s stubble scraped across your skin as his mouth trailed a line of fire down your neck, parting your perfect legs without breaking eye contact.

Bodyguard!Sunghoon whose jaw tightens the second another man’s hand lingers too long on your bare back—eyes going dark, almost feral as he watches from a distance. It eats at him. The way they look at you. The way they think they even have a chance. Because in his mind, there was never a “before” or “after.” You were always his. Always meant to be his. His gaze doesn’t leave you, tracking every movement, every reaction—waiting. Watching and when your eyes flicker, when your body betrays even the slightest hesitation, his lips twitch, Sunghoon knows, he’s been waiting five years just to prove it.

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who groans at the first taste, so fucking sweet, exactly like he remembers. He lets out a sigh and presses his tongue flat on the fabric, inciting a low whine from you. “So fucking greedy.” He mumbles as he slides your panties down with his teeth, driving into your heat. You feel his fingers make its way up to your entrance, pressing it there first before slamming them in. You gasp, nails digging into his hair as you pull at them. Sunghoon moans into your heat, “Fucking—fuck. Missed this—you.” His fingers work you open and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head when his lips find your pulsating clit.

Bodyguard!Sunghoon whose breath hitches every time you walk past him, cock hardening at the mere sight of you. And there you were. Sprawled across your bed in the softest shirt he has ever hated with his entire soul—because it made you look like something worth worshipping. One leg out of the covers, hair an absolute disaster, breathing slow and even. He stood there for a second longer than he meant to. God, You looked peaceful. And Sunghoon was about to ruin it.

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who drags you away, "You don't get to drag me away from conversations." You try to yank your wrists but he presses you against the hallway wall, palm braced beside your head "Then stop letting men look at you like you're available." You scoff, “I AM available." His jaw tightens at that. “Not to them."

Bodyguard!Sunghoon whose stubble grazes your inner thighs when you feel his nose bump against your clit, completely soaked. Your back arches off the bed but he pins you down with his strength. “Fucking take it. I’ll take my time ruining you.” He rasps under you, “I’m close—honnie—” Sunghoon goes completely still at the nickname. Been so long, so fucking long since he’s heard you say it. Fuck, he loves you so much. “Yeah? gonna come all over my tongue, hmm?” He circles his tip around your sensitive bud, you shake your head, eyes closing. "You will watch me make you come, or you don't come at all." You snap your eyes to him, your need overwhelming any lingering embarrassment. With your gazes locked, Sunghoon bends more to take a lazy lick of you, running his tongue between your lips to your clit and circling. your eyes roll back in your head. "Eyes, Y/n," He demands. "Give me those eyes.”

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who couldn’t get enough of you the moment he had tasted you again. After the first time, he’d always find a quiet corner somewhere in the house, jerking off at the thought of you between his legs. His cock in your mouth as you’d bob your head up and down, adjusting to his size. This became regular. He was always pulling you into dark corners, empty hallways, places no one would see. You kept telling yourself it meant nothing—that you didn’t love him. But Sunghoon? He stopped lying to himself a long time ago.

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who never really moved on—not even for a second in those five years. You were always there, stuck in the back of his mind, every sleepless night. And now? Now he has you again. Except this time… it wasn’t coincidence. Every step that led you back to him, every place you ended up, it was all too perfect. Too calculated. You thought you found him again, prob fate dragging you back. But Sunghoon knows better. Because he made sure you would.

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who keeps his voice calm in public, calling you “ma’am” like hes obviously meant to—but the second you’re alone, it drops, rough and possessive. “Don’t test me like that again.” Even after five years away, you still hit him the same way you did back in college. And it’s the same for you. Every time you see him—his face, his body, that fucking tattoo—smth inside you curls. You watch him from the corner of your eye as he pulls out that stupid pencil he’s always carried around. His back faces you, broad, inked—your name still carved into his skin like a sin he never tried to wash away. Fuck, he looks good. The pencil moves, scratching against your open notebook. You don’t even notice him getting that close until the words appear in his slanted handwriting. “I want to taste you again.” Your breath catches. Was he actually insane?

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who’d growl "Shut your mouth." when you disobey him in bed, He does it for you instead, his lips devouring yours and he kisses you with unbound lust, his hips jerking as he fucks your hole, “Fuck you..." You gasp out loud. He bites the corner of your lip and stretches the skin. "Fuck you..Sunghoon—Why the fuck did you come into my life... Fuck..." He smirks and slams forward, hips jolting against yours. A vigorous speed breaking out, hammering his cock in deep. Sunghoon grunts, keeping the back of your knees hooked over his biceps for leverage as he fucks into you without abandon. “I'm in your life because you're fucking up mine, baby."

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who’d spank you for your insolent tone, Spank! "From now on, when I tell you to do something, you do it." Spank! “If I warn you, you don't ignore me." Spank! “You'll listen to fucking orders." Spank! “You will obey me." Spank! The redness of his slaps spreads across your skin blooming in pink. "Cry louder. Let everyone know who owns you."

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who wants to look into your eyes as he takes you, slow and deep, so you feel every inch of him and know you're his. He wants to see the way you break, the way your body surrenders, the way you whisper ‘don't stop’ like it's the only thing you know how to say.

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who ties both of your wrists with his necktie, and steps back, admiring the sight of you. Hands behind your back, leather belt knotted across your skin. You glance behind your shoulders. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You say teasingly. The tone of yours has his eyes darkening and he reaches for his phone, snapping a few pictures before throwing it back on the bed. “Bend for me, let me see that pretty cunt dripping.” You do as he says, face dipping into the mattress, ass up in air, back arched, pussy all bare and wet for him. Sunghoon kisses your throat hard enough to bruise, and when you flinch, he laughs, not cruelly, but softly, like it's proof of how real you are. Then his fingers trail down the soft skin of your ass before giving it a smack. Your body jerks forward, you feel the collar attached to your neck—leash being pulled back by your ex. Your breath becoming foggy and ragged as u feel his lips next to your ears, "Godamn, you're wet for me. Do you like it when i play with you?"

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who’s gone past obsessed—You call it obsession, he calls it devotion. “Run, baby.” He leans against the doorway, broad shoulders blocking the exit, presence suffocating. His voice is calm but edged with steel. “Go on,” he murmurs. “Walk out if you want to test me.” He pushes off the frame, step perfect, silent power in every move. “You won’t find softness anywhere else,” Sunghoon says, eyes locked on you. “Only me.” Your heart pounds as you take a step back. Then another. “And if you turn your back…” his lips curve, something dangerous flashing in his eyes, “…you’ll find out just how far I’ll go to keep what’s mine.” You gulp. So this is what he likes. Predator play. Got it. “And if i catch you, i fuck you, baby.” So you run. For a moment, you let yourself believe you’d won. Then—A hand. Your breath hitched as he found you, His grip was rough as he pulled you up by yanking your hair. “You really thought I wouldn’t find you?” he whispered, voice low against your ear. "You are so fucking wet," Sunghoon growled. "Does this turn you on, hmm?

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who falls in love even more. Thinks the safest place for you is right next to him and nowhere else even comes close. He realizes he doesn’t just want you around, he needs to know where you are, if you’re okay, if you’re safe… all the time. He spins, kicking a chair out of his way so he can plant you on the kitchen table. He steps between your open thighs and grabs a handful of your hair, forcing your eyes to his. "You run to me. When shit goes sideways, you run to me, not from me, okay?" You think you nod but your not sure when you feel his lips near your ears, "I wanna be everything," he said, his mouth against your ear. "Wanna be the reason you light up. I wanna make you laugh, make you moan, make you safe." He kept stroking you as you quivered helplessly. "I want to be the thought that lulls you to sleep. The memory that gets you off. I wanna be where all your paths end." He nipped your earlobe. "I wanna do everything you do to me."

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who would close his teeth around the strap of your dress and gently tug it down while he raised your hips so he could push your soaked thong to the side. You didn't have time to do more than gasp before he was inside you, filling you to the hilt with only one thrust. You only had a few seconds to adjust before he gripped your hips and slammed you down again on his cock, hard, while he drove up inside you. You clung to him, head thrown back, body nothing more than a mass of sensation as you matched his rhythm. You bounced up and down, grinding your clit against him on every down stroke. "Just like that," Sunghoon growled. He grazed his teeth across your nipple, his breath raising goosebumps all over your skin. "Ride my cock like a good slut.” An embarrassingly loud moan climbed up your throat when he closed his mouth around the pebbled peak and sucked. Wetness gushed down your thighs, over his leg, and onto the car seat. “You're making a mess, sweetheart." He turned his attention to the other nipple and tugged on it with his teeth. "Should I make you clean it up, hmm? Have you lick your own cum off the seat while I fuck you from behind?"

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who fucking loves your moans. The moans you let out only drive him to fuck into you more violently, filling you with each inch of his thick long cock. His moves his hand which was on your neck, slight fingerprints of his palms visible from how hard he was chocking you, "Every bruise I leave is a reminder you belong to me." You couldn’t respond with anything but a scream as sunghoon reached around and slapped your pussy. The sudden spike of pleasure yanked you back to the present and made your back bow from the intensity. Only half your resulting scream made it out before a hand clamped over your mouth. "Shh," Sunghoon murmured. "You don't want people to hear how much you love being fucked like this, do you? On all fours in the backseat of a car, taking every inch of my cock like you're fucking born for it." He gave your clit another long, lazy stroke with his other hand. "Good girl, you can take it, you’ve taken worse.” The gentleness of his voice, contrasted with the filthiness of his words and the brutal slam of his cock inside you, tipped you over the edge.

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who starts doing things he was never supposed to, tucking you in at night, making sure you’ve eaten, even doing your makeup sometimes with a quiet focus that feels too intimate to be just “his job.” you both started acting like nothing ever happened. Like he hadn’t been the one to break your heart. But the worst part? He still hasn’t given you a reason. "You said you loved me," You whispered. "I hate that we lost that." Nothing was lost. He lifted you up, guided your legs around himself and walked you both to the bed, feeling the heat of your center on his stomach. "We never lost that." He means it. Sunghoon never fucking stopped loving you. You were always the one he’d think about.

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who just loves making you feel good, everytime you try to shy away, he’d say , “Don’t act shy, you started this.” Then continue to wreck you for hours. "Stubborn fucking girl," Sunghoon growl, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you closer. "You don't get it, do you? I always see you" His thumb presses into your clit, rubbing ruthless circles as his fingers slam into your warmth, unrelenting. "I'm always fucking seeing you, Y/n. In every room, no matter how much I want to ignore you, you burn too fucking bright. You're the goddamn sun, and I hate that I can't stop looking at you." White-hot pleasure crashes over you and you bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying out. Your orgasm ebbs and flows, seemingly going on forever before it finally fades out.

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who edges you for hours. Not letting you come. He would pull out his fingers each time you neared your release and you’d whimper loudly at the loss to which he’d just chuckle darkly. "So pretty when you're soaking wet like this I can't wait to see how perfect you look around my bare cock" he whispered, watching you close your eyes and part your lips at his words. You were lost in it. Lost in him, wanting nothing more than for him to use you for his own pleasure. The next thing you knew, he was shoving his own pants down just far enough to free his pulsing length. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him giving himself a few long pumps, eyes dark, burning into yours. A shaky sigh escapes your lips as he uses the head of his cock to spread your own slickness along the length of his member.

He didn’t give you any time to adjust before slamming into you with a ferocity that makes your knees shake, cock thrusting in and out of you harder and harder, faster and faster till you felt him poking your stomach. Sunghoon notices and glances down, eyes going feral when he sees his dick outlining your perfectly sinister waist—He presses down on the belly bulge, hard. Causing u to moan because of the pressure. “Look at how fucking full you are. Shit—so perfect. Gonna fucking breed you.”

His hands squeezed your waist almost painfully. "You were always fucking mine. You're gonna come to me from now on. Every time this pussy gets wet, got it?" Your legs squeezed around him tighter, feeling his pelvis grind against your clit, the poor, overstimulated nub practically screaming from the pain. "Oh my god—please.” he pulls back just an inch before driving home again, harder this time. “Gonna breed you—yeah? gonna stuff you with my cum till its fucking leaking. Doesn’t matter i’ll shove it back in.”

Bodyguard!Sunghoon who never really left your mind—and you never left his either. He seals the promise against your lips, voice low, almost breathless—“I’ll give you the world… the moon, the stars. Anything you want—it’s yours. I’m yours.” The confession hits you out of nowhere, You weren’t ready for it but God, you felt it just the same. Your gaze drops, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed, undone. “Y/n… my love, look at me.” His fingers curl gently under your chin, lifting your face back up to him. “Give me those beautiful eyes.” And holy cow, he loves yours eyes. Those same eyes he fell for years ago, the ones he could never forget, never escape.

You knew one thing with terrifying clarity that you’d follow this man to the fiery gates of hell even if he just held your hand. “I love you.” He says, pecking your lips. “The world isn’t ready to see who i become if this—” his thumb presses on your pounding pulse and he gestures between you both. “—ever stops.” Because you're so sweet you fucking glow and Sunghoon knows he’ll kill anyone who tries to take that light from you. If he'd been ready to burn the world for you before, it was nothing compared to the destruction he would cause now.

Please send an ask or just comment if you wanna be tagged for the official post when it comes out!!

THE LAST THING YOU REMEMBERED WAS THE BLARING HORN, the sound of screeching tires, and a truck’s grille filling your entire world. Then—

—nothing…?

You woke up to the pleasant smell of expensive linen and the feeling of your face pressed into a pillow softer than any cloud you’d ever imagined. Your head throbbed dully, and you groaned, pushing yourself up on elbows that felt strangely delicate, blinking against the morning light filtering through gigantic windows that showcased a city skyline you didn’t recognize at all.

What the hell?

The room looked like something from a spread from a luxury magazine. A chaise lounge in dove grey sat in the corner, next to a vanity table littered with crystal perfume bottles and jewelry boxes spilling over with gold chains and diamonds that glittered even in the soft light. You swung your legs out of the bed, your feet sinking into a plush, cream-colored rug. You were wearing silk pajamas—silk fucking pajamas!—a matching set in a blush pink that felt alien against your skin.

A full-length mirror stood opposite the bed. You stumbled toward it.

The reflection staring back was yours, and yet—it wasn’t. Your face, but perfected, hair that you usually kept in a hurriedly-brushed ponytail fell in artful, salon-fresh waves. Even your skin was flawless, glowing with the kind of health that only comes from expensive facials and a complete lack of real-world stress.

“Okay,” you whispered to the stranger in the mirror. “Okay, breathe. This is a dream. It has to me. A very, very detailed dream brought on by that last glass of soju and that novel you stayed up way too late finishing.”

The novel. Melting the Cold CEO’S Heart. It was a trashy, addictive romance you’d read on a whim, and the male lead, Park Sunghoon, was cold, ruthless, and unfairly handsome, trapped in a business arrangement—an engagement with a shallow, gold-digging socialite named… your blood ran cold as you remembered.

Y/N.

Your namesake, and the villainess of the novel. The one who was pathologically obsessed with Sunghoon’s money and status, who made the female lead’s life miserable, and who was unceremoniously dumped when Sunghoon finally broke free of his family’s shackles to be with his one true love, the sweet and humble wedding planner, Soojin.

You looked at the room around you. You looked at your perfect, manicured hands. You remembered the truck.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” you said, your voice echoing in the cavernous room.

The plot, as you remembered it, was straightforward. The real Cha Y/N would play the devoted fiancée, clinging to Sunghoon’s arm at every event, while secretly making the life of the female lead, Lee Soojin, a living hell. Sunghoon, cold to his fiancée, would find himself drawn to Soojin’s genuine warmth and resilience, and after a series of public scandals orchestrated by Cha Y/N, Sunghoon would finally snap, publicly denounce her, and run into the rain to confess his love to Soojin. Roll credits.

Your old life, by comparison, had been pleasantly predictable. You worked a mid-level office job at a small logistics firm, a job you were competent at but which offered no real passion. Your days were a blur of spreadsheets, lukewarm coffee from the breakroom machine, and polite, surface-level conversations with colleagues you’d never see outside of work hours. Your apartment was a snug, lightly cluttered one-bedroom. Your social life was limited to your best friend, Abby, who you only got to see about once a month for dinner when she wasn’t busy with her boyfriend, Heeseung. Weekends were for laundry, grocery shopping, and maybe a movie if you could muster the energy. It was fine, by all means. Safe. And, if you were being brutally honest with yourself in your most vulnerable moments, a little bit boring.

The thrill, the color, the feeling in your life came from elsewhere:

Webnovels.

They were your escape. During your lunch break, hunched over your phone at your desk. On the subway ride home, packed between strangers. Late at night, curled under your blankets with the screen’s glow the only light in the room. You devoured them. Regency romances, fantasy epics, modern-day dramas. You loved them all, but you had a particular, guilty fondness for the tropiest of the tropey: the cold, domineering male lead and the plucky heroine who thawed his heart.

You knew the formulas by heart. The accidental touch that sent sparks flying. The possessive glare across a crowded room. The misunderstanding that drove them apart for three agonizing chapters before the grand reconciliation. It was comfort food for your soul. In those pages, you could experience earth-shattering love without the risk of a broken heart.

Now, standing in this silent, opulent bedroom, the irony almost made you laugh. You’d fantasized about being in a story like this a thousand times, but—you’d always imagined yourself as the heroine, not the villainess slated for a spectacular downfall.

A soft knock at the door made you jump nearly a foot in the air.

“Miss Cha?” a polite, older woman’s voice called through the wood. “Your breakfast is ready. The car will be here in one hour to take you to Mr. Park’s office for the wedding planning consultation.”

Wedding planning. You felt, suddenly, very awake. That was today. Chapter Four, if you recalled correctly. The first official meeting between Cha Y/N, Sunghoon, and the wedding planner, Lee Soojin. The scene where the villainess would size up her rival with thinly-veiled contempt, make snide remarks about her choice of clothing, and generally establish herself as the obstacle to Sunghoon and Soojin’s true love.

Your stomach churned. You couldn’t do that. You physically couldn’t. The thought of being cruel to some innocent woman just trying to do her job made you feel ill.

But what was the alternative? If you weren’t the evil Cha Y/N, then who were you? A random office worker from another world, trapped in a fictional character’s body. If you started acting completely out of character, what would happen? Would the universe correct itself? Would you be thrown into a mental institution? Would Sunghoon’s powerful family have you quietly disposed of for being an unpredictable variable in their business merger masquerading as a marriage?

Panic, sharp and acrid, rose in your throat. You gripped the edge of the vanity table, your knuckles turning white. Think, Y/N. You have to think.

The original Cha Y/N’s fate was bankruptcy and social ruin after Sunghoon cut her off. She’d tried to fight it, to cling, to scheme, and it had only made her fall harder and more publicly.

So you had to survive. You couldn’t be that person. You wouldn’t. It was simple: do no harm, collect the checks, and get the hell out. Let Sunghoon and Soojin have their epic romance. You’d take the alimony and live quietly on a beach somewhere, far from this world of cutthroat socialites and emotionally constipated CEOs.

It was a coward’s plan, sure, but it was the only one that seemed to offer a path through this nightmare that didn’t end with you being publicly eviscerated.

You took a deep, shuddering breath and looked at the reflection again. “Okay, Cha Y/N,” you said to her. “Let’s do this.”

An hour later, you were in the back of a sleek, silent sedan, watching the city blur past. You’d chosen an outfit from the walk-in closet that felt the least like a costume and foregone most of the jewelry, wearing only small studs in your ears.

The driver held the door open for you in front of a towering glass skyscraper that seemed to pierce the clouds. The logo was etched into the side.

The lobby was cold and elegant, people in sharp suits moving with purpose across the vast marble floor, footsteps echoing everywhere. The receptionist, a woman with a smile as polished as the granite desk, took one look at you and nodded.

“Miss Cha. Mr. Park is expecting you. 67th floor, please.” She gestured to a private elevator whose doors were already sliding open.

The ride up was smooth and swift, and you watched the numbers climb, your heart doing a nervous tap-dance. The doors opened directly into a corner office.

The view was breathtaking, a panoramic sweep of the city and the river beyond. But the room itself was as cold as the man standing before the window, his back to you. He was tall, with broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, silhouetted against the bright sky. He wore a charcoal grey suit that looked like it had been tailored directly onto him.

Then he turned.

Park Sunghoon.

The description from the novel didn’t do him justice. He was handsome in a way that felt almost aggressive. Sharp jawline, dark, intense eyes under thick, perfectly shaped brows, hair styled in a way that looked effortless and expensive. But it was his expression that really hit you. There was no warmth in his gaze, no flicker of recognition or welcome for his fiancée. And how could you fault him? Cha Y/N had been a piece of work.

“You’re early,” he intoned.

“Looks like I am.” you managed, your own voice sounding too small.

He said nothing, just looked at you for a beat longer than was comfortable. Then he gestured with a faint tilt of his head toward a large meeting table off to the side. “Sit. The planner will be here shortly.”

You walked to the table, hyper-aware of the click of your heels on the polished concrete floor. You sat in the chair he’d indicated, folding your hands in your lap to keep them from trembling. He didn’t sit. He remained standing by the window, the picture of impatience and disinterest.

The silence stretched, and you studied the grain of the table, the way the sunlight caught the edge of a glass water pitcher. Anything to avoid looking at him.

You’d read about his coldness, of course you had. You’d found it thrilling in the abstract, a challenge for the heroine to overcome, but experiencing it firsthand was different. It was isolating. It made you feel invisible, inconsequential. You understood, with sudden, painful clarity, why the original Cha Y/N had become so obsessed with his wealth and status. If you couldn’t have his warmth, you’d settle for the things his name could buy. It was a pathetic, hollow consolation prize, but it must have been something to hold onto.

Another soft knock at the door.

“Enter,” Sunghoon said, not moving from his post.

The door opened, and a woman stepped in. She was around your age, maybe a year or two younger. She wore a simple, professional cream-colored blouse and a black skirt. Her hair was pulled back in a neat, low ponytail. She carried a large portfolio and an iPad.

Lee Soojin.

Your pulse quickened. The female lead. The woman who, according to the plot, you were supposed to torment.

She bowed slightly. “Mr. Park. Miss Cha. Thank you for having me. I’m Lee Soojin, from Ever After Planning.”

She was exactly as described, warm and beautiful. She had a kind, fresh face, warm brown eyes, and a smile that seemed genuine, though right now, it was tinged with nervousness as her gaze darted between you and the imposing figure of Sunghoon. She clutched a large portfolio to her chest like a shield.

“Please, come in,” Sunghoon said, and his voice was different, softer.

The meeting was awkward, to say the least. Soojin presented floral arrangements and color palettes, her voice occasionally trembling. You, desperate not to play the villain, said nothing except, “That looks lovely,” or “Whatever you think is best, Miss Lee.” You kept your eyes on the swatches, avoiding Sunghoon’s probing stare. You could feel it on you, a laser of suspicion. The real Y/N would have been picky and dismissive, finding fault with everything to assert dominance.

Sunghoon, surprisingly, engaged. He asked practical questions about logistics, timelines, vendor reliability. His questions were sharp and intelligent. Soojin, after a few stumbling starts, began to answer with growing confidence, her passion for her work shining through. You saw the exact moment he noticed it: a slight tilt of his head, a fraction of a second where his gaze lingered on her animated face instead of the brochure.

There it is, you thought, a strange pang hitting you square in the chest. The beginning. The plan was working.

But then he turned that gaze on you. “You’re not yourself today.” His tone was neutral, but the question in it was clear: What’s your deal?

You met his eyes for the first time that day. “Well,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. “Ms. Lee seems very competent. I just trust her expertise.”

He stared at you again, then gave a curt nod, turning back to Soojin, and the rest of the meeting passed in a blur.

THE MONTHS THAT FOLLOWED WERE A BIZARRE SORT OF DANCE. You attended obligatory social events on Sunghoon’s arm, fit the role of a silent, smiling accessory perfectly. You learned the rules of this world: who to nod to, who to ignore, which fork and knife to use where and why. And through it all, you were forced into proximity with Park Sunghoon.

At first, it was nothing but ice. Silent car rides, silent meals. You didn’t think there was ever a way to hold a conversation with Park Sunghoon. But survival instinct was a powerful thing when it kicked in, and the more nervous you got, the more your immediate instinct to be yourself began to show, especially once you moved in together.

The incident that started the thaw was, of all things, congee.

It was three weeks in. A late-night business dinner had left Sunghoon looking paler than usual, the sharp lines of his face drawn tight. You’d heard him return, the quiet click of the door, then nothing. An hour later, a faint, pained sound from the kitchen. You found him leaning against the island, one hand pressed to his stomach, staring into the empty fridge with blank eyes.

“Stomach ache?” you’d asked, hovering in the doorway.

He’d just grunted in response.

The real Y/N would have called for a maid, despite the ungodly hour. You, on the other hand, having grown up middle-class, were a veteran of questionable street food and late-night stress-eating, so you simply nudged him aside with your hip and rummaged through the pantry. “Sit,” you said, your tone brooking no argument. “You’re blocking the rice.”

He’d watched, silent and wary, as you boiled the rice into a soft mush, shredding the leftover roast chicken from yesterday’s dinner and adding slivers of ginger. The kitchen filled with a warm savory scent, and when you slid the bowl across the island to him, he looked at it like it was a foreign artefact.

“It’s just congee,” you said, suddenly self-conscious. “My mom used to make it when I was sick.”

He took a cautious spoonful. Then another. You had never cooked for someone before, but seeing the almost imperceptible relaxation of his shoulders, the way the tension drained out of his body, made you realize why your mother had loved it so much. When he was done, he placed the spoon neatly in the empty bowl and met your eyes. “It was nice. Thank you.”

You’d snorted. “High praise, coming from you.”

A brief flicker of a smile touched his lips. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

That was the crack in the ice, and after that, indifference became harder to maintain. The silent car rides began to fill with your commentary on the city passing by, or his dry observations about the people you’d just met at some function. Once, you found him one evening in the library, staring blankly at a contract, his tie loose. You’d placed a cup of tea next to his elbow without a word. He’d looked up, surprised, then nodded in thanks. Another time, you’d gotten locked out on the massive balcony during a sudden rain shower. He’d found you, drenched and laughing, and instead of chastising you, he’d handed you a towel with a shake of his head, a genuine, if exasperated, smile on his face. “Only you,” he’d muttered.

Then came the charity gala for the Seoul Arts Foundation. It was a stuffy, black-tie affair, and the champagne was flowing too freely. You, nervous under the scrutiny of a hundred socialites who knew the real Cha Y/N, drank more than you should have. Sunghoon, for reasons unknown, matched you glass for glass.

It was no surprise that the car ride home, inevitably, was filled with giddiness. You were slumped in the backseat, giggling at nothing, the city lights streaking past the window like liquid silver. He was beside you, his posture less rigid, a soft, unfocused smile on his face as he watched you.

“You’re different,” he said suddenly, his voice a low rumble in the dark car.

“Am I?” you hiccupped, turning to him. His face was so close. The sharp angles were softened in the shadows.

“Mm. Before. You were so… loud. Demanding. Everything was—all about money for you.” He reached out, his finger hovering near your temple, not touching. “But now…”

“Maybe I just grew up,” you offered, the lie tasting bitter.

He shook his head slowly, his eyes searching yours with an unnerving intensity. “No. It’s not that. It’s like you’re a completely different person.” He leaned closer, his breath warm and faintly sweet with champagne. “Who are you?”

Your heart hammered in your chest. The truth was a wild, desperate thing clawing at your throat. In your tipsy state, it slipped out, covered up in a joke. “Maybe I’m from a different universe,” you whispered, a playful, dizzy smile on your lips. “One where I’m not a horrible person.”

He stared at you. Then, to your utter astonishment, his lower lip pushed out in the faintest, most fleeting pout. You had never seen an expression so disarmingly childish and vulnerable on his face, but it was gone in a second, replaced by a slight scowl. “Stop messing with me,” he murmured, but there was no heat in it. He leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes, a small sigh escaping him.

The hangover the next morning was brutal, but at least it was a shared misery. You found him in the kitchen, grimacing over a glass of water, still in his rumpled dress shirt from the night before. You wordlessly made tea, and when you handed him a mug, your fingers brushed. He didn’t pull away.

Then you got sick.

It was a brutal flu, a personal betrayal from your own immune system. One day you were fine, the next, you were a shivering, aching heap buried under the duvet in your room. The maids fluttered in and out with tea and towels, but the apartment felt cold.

You drifted in a feverish haze, only semi-aware of the passage of time. But then—

You heard the firm, quiet tread of leather soles on parquet. The room darkened as a tall silhouette blocked the light from the hallway.

Sunghoon stood there, still in his work suit, his tie slightly loosened.

“The staff said you haven’t eaten,” he stated, his voice softer than usual.

“Can’t,” you croaked, turning your head into the pillow. “Everything hurts.”

You heard him set something down on the bedside table—a small tray. Then, to your shock, you felt the bed dip near your hip as he sat on the very edge of the mattress. You kept your eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm that had nothing to do with fever.

For a long, long while, all you could hear was your congested breathing. Then, a touch. Light, hesitant. Fingertips, surprisingly cool, brushing the sweat-dampened hair back from your forehead. The gesture was so tender, so utterly at odds with the Park Sunghoon you knew, that your breath hitched. His fingers stilled for a second, thinking he’d woken you. When you didn’t move, they continued, tucking the hair gently behind your ear.

He didn’t say a word. He just sat there,  his hand eventually coming to rest, palm down, on the duvet beside your shoulder. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he stood up. You heard the faint clink of a spoon against ceramic. “There’s broth here when you can manage it,” he murmured.

He worked from the armchair next to your bed that day, the quiet tap of his laptop keys a strangely comforting sound. He’d glance over every so often, refilling your water glass without being asked. It was the most mundane kind of care, but it made your heart squeeze. No one in this glittering, fake world had taken care of you like that. It felt more intimate than any kiss the novel had described between him and Soojin.

Life settled into a strange, peaceful rhythm that was nothing like the plot you remembered. You weren’t friends, not exactly. But you were… something. Allies due to the nature of your situation, perhaps. Your conversations became longer. You discovered he had a dry, wicked sense of humor that only emerged when he was truly relaxed. You learned he hated mint chocolate and loved coffee-flavored ice-cream. And then, one evening, you were in his study, looking for a book he’d said was in there. Your fingers trailed over the spines on a high shelf when you knocked a small, ornate wooden box to the floor. It sprung open, spilling its contents: not jewelry or documents, but a handful of old, laminated badges and a single, well-worn ice skate blade guard.

Curious, you picked up a badge. Seoul Junior Figure Skating Championship, 1st Place, Park Sunghoon, Age 12. Another: National Youth Competition, Finalist. There were photos, too. A young boy with solemn eyes and a shock of dark hair, poised on the ice, his arms outstretched. The resemblance was unmistakable.

You were staring at a photo of him, gap-toothed, holding a trophy with a rare, bright, unguarded smile, when his voice came from the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

You jumped, the photo fluttering from your hand. He was leaning against the doorframe, his expression closed off, but you saw the flicker of something—embarrassment? pain?—in his eyes before the shutters came down.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, gathering the items with clumsy hands. “I knocked the box over. I didn’t mean to pry.” You held up one of the badges. “You were a figure skater?”

He walked in, taking the badge from your fingers. He looked at it for a long moment, his thumb tracing the raised lettering. “It was a long time ago.”

“Why did you stop?” The question was out before you could stop it.

He didn’t answer immediately. He carefully placed the badge back in the box, his movements precise. “My father,” he said finally, his voice flat. “He decided it was a frivolous pursuit for the heir of Park Holdings. That it wouldn’t build the ruthlessness required for business.” A humorless twist of his lips. “I suppose he was right, in a way.”

The sadness in his tone made you inexplicably upset. You thought of the cold, ruthless CEO you’d read about, the one who only melted for one person. You were seeing the fossil of the boy who had been melted down and reforged into that man.

On an impulse you didn’t fully understand, you spoke. “When was the last time you were on the ice?”

He looked at you, startled. “I don’t know. Over ten years?”

“We should go.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Ice skating. We should go. There’s that new private rink at your country club. We could rent it out. No one would have to know.”

He stared at you as if you’d suggested flying to the moon. “That’s absurd.”

“Is it?” You pressed, a sudden boldness rising in you. “You loved it once. Don’t you ever… you know, miss it? Just the feeling of it?”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. He looked from your face to the open box, to the photo of his younger, smiling self. The conflict in his eyes was a war you could almost see play out in front of you. Finally, he let out a slow breath. “That’s a pointless thing to do.”

But he didn’t say no.

Two days later, his assistant quietly booked the rink for a private two-hour session at midnight. He didn’t mention it to you. You only found out when a note, written in his sharp, elegant script, was left on the kitchen island next to your keys: 8 PM. Dress warm.

An hour later, you were in the empty rink, feeling utterly ridiculous in brand-new thermals. Sunghoon was already laced up, moving with a natural grace as he carved a slow circle on the pristine ice. He made it look effortless. You, on the other hand, sat on the bench, fumbling with the laces. Your fingers felt thick and clumsy. After a minute of struggle, you felt the bench dip beside you. He didn’t ask. He just took the skate from your hands, his fingers brushing yours.

“You have to tie them tightly. Ankle support is everything.”

He bent his head, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead as he began to lace the boot for you, his movements sure and careful. You watched, mesmerized by the sight of Park Sunghoon’s elegant, powerful hands, the ones that signed countless deals, meticulously tying a double knot for you. It felt impossibly tender. Then he did the same with the other foot, his knuckles accidentally brushing the sensitive skin of your ankle. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold raced up your spine.

“There,” he said, looking up and meeting your eyes. “Now, stand up. Slowly.”

You did, taking one wobbly step onto the surface, and immediately felt your legs betray you. You windmilled your arms, a squeak escaping your throat.

“Careful, careful,” A strong hand closed around your elbow, steadying you. “Bend your knees. Not at the waist.”

“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled, but you bent your knees. His hand stayed on your arm, a firm, warm anchor.

“Now, glide. Don’t step.”

You pushed off, lurching forward. He moved with you, a silent, steady presence at your side. For the first ten minutes, it was a comedy of errors. You wobbled, you slipped, you clutched at his forearm with a grip that probably cut off his circulation. And through it all, he was patient. Surprisingly, infuriatingly patient.

“You’re thinking too much,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice as you stared at your feet in concentration.

“I’m thinking about not concussing myself on this ice!”

“Look at me. Not at your feet.”

You dragged your gaze up to his face. In the cool, bright light of the rink, he looked younger. The usual severity in his expression was softened.

“Better,” he said. “Now, just move with me.”

He took your hands in his, skating backwards and pulling you along. It was terrifying and thrilling. The world narrowed to the sound of blades on ice, the puff of your breath in the cold air, and the solid, reliable grip of his hands. You started to find a shaky rhythm.

“See?” he said, and you realized he was smiling. A real, proper smile that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. It transformed his face completely. Your heart did a funny little stutter that had nothing to do with skating.

“Don’t let me fall,” you said, the words coming out in a soft, breathless rush.

His grip tightened almost imperceptibly. He never looked away from your eyes. “I won’t.”

He guided you around the rink until your legs burned and your cheeks were numb with cold and laughter. Then, he demonstrated a simple spin, a blur of controlled motion that left you gaping. When he stopped, perfectly centered, he was breathing slightly harder, his face flushed.

He looked alive.

“Show-off,” you called, pushing off the wall to glide clumsily toward him.

He caught you easily when you overbalanced, his hands coming to rest on your hips to steady you. You were suddenly, acutely aware of the closeness. The heat of his body through the layers of clothing. The way his thumbs were pressing just above the waistband of your leggings. His face was inches from yours, his breath warm against your cold skin. His eyes were dark and searching.

You looked up at him, your own laughter dying in your throat. The rink was silent except for the hum of the chillers. For a heartbeat that felt like forever, neither of you moved. You could see the faint scar on his brow, the dark fringe of his lashes, the part of his lips as he breathed.

Then, a distant door clanged. The spell broke. He released your hips, his hands falling back to his sides as he took a small half-step back. “You’re getting the hang of it,” he said, his voice returning to its usual register, though it was a shade rougher and, if you listened hard enough, breathier.

All the way home, you replayed the moment at the rink over and over, the feel of his hands on you. It sparked a low, restless heat in your belly that was becoming frustratingly familiar.

That very heat continued to follow you, and it was driving you crazy. In the mornings, when he’d emerge from his bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips, his hair damp, his torso a landscape of lean muscle and faint scars you itched to trace. You’d mutter a good morning and flee to the kitchen, your face hot. Once, you came out of your room in just a thin camisole and pajamas to get water, forgetting he was working late at the dining table. The look he gave you—a slow, sweeping gaze that felt like a physical touch—had you scurrying back to your room, your skin prickling with awareness. You’d lie in your bed, in the dark, and imagine him in his room just down the hall. Was he asleep? Reading? Thinking about the company? Thinking about… you? Your mind would wander, unbidden, to the feel of his hands on your waist at the rink. To the solid heat of him when you’d stumbled against his chest. To the way his sweatpants hung on his hips. And then a slow, aching warmth would pool low in your belly, and you’d press your thighs together, frustrated and aroused in equal measure.

This was not part of the plan. Getting horny for your emotionally unavailable contract-fiancé was the fastest way to get your heart pulverized.

A WEEK LATER, SUNGHOON INFORMED YOU, OVER A BREAKFAST OF PERFECTLY POACHED EGGS, THAT YOU WOULD BE MEETING HIS FRIENDS.

“Friends?” you’d echoed, nearly choking on your toast. The novel’s Sunghoon had only business associates, rivals, and sycophants. Friends were never part of it.

“Yes,” he said, not looking up from his tablet. “Park Jongseong and Shim Jaeyun. They’re very insistent. They want to meet you badly.” He said it dryly, but you caught the slightest tension in his shoulders. “It’s a dinner on Friday, at Jay’s.”

Friday arrived, and with it, a low-cut dress that felt both too much and not enough. Sunghoon was silent in the elevator ride up, his profile sharp in the dim light. But when the doors opened into a sprawling, modern loft filled with the smell of gourmet food and the sound of jazz, his posture shifted. He placed a light, guiding hand on the small of your back.

“Sunghoon! You made it!” A man with a charming, lopsided grin and artfully messy hair bounded over, pulling Sunghoon into a brief, back-slapping hug. Jake, you guessed. His eyes, warm and curious, immediately landed on you. “And you must be the infamous Y/N.” He winked.

Another man approached, slightly taller, with a more composed elegance but a friendly glint in his eye. Jay, of course. He shook your hand firmly. “A pleasure. Come in, make yourself at home.”

The evening was nothing like the functions you’d gotten used to over the last few months, and you found that your initial nervousness bled away easily. Jay was dry and witty, Jake was sweet and genuinely funny. They teased Sunghoon mercilessly about anything and everything, and to your astonishment, he took it. He even smiled a real, relaxed smile that made your heart do that stupid little flip again.

And the best part was, they talked to you. Not to Cha Y/N, the socialite fiancée, but to you. Jay asked about your opinion on the new exhibition at the National Museum, and you found yourself in a debate about Norman Rockwell. Jake, hearing you hum along to the jazz track, pulled you into a conversation about it. You were in your element, laughing, arguing. You forgot, for a moment, the character you were supposed to be playing.

You also forgot to watch Sunghoon.

He had turned quiet, observing from his seat on the plush sofa, a glass of whiskey cradled in his hand. At first, you thought he was just back to being his usual reserved self. But as the night wore on and your laughter grew more frequent, you began to feel it—a tension emanating from him. When Jake leaned in to refill your wine glass, his hand brushing yours as he pointed to a particular album cover on the shelf, you felt Sunghoon’s gaze on you like a hand.

A few minutes later, when you got up to admire the view of the rolling countryside from the windows, Jake followed, standing close beside you to point things out. “There,” he said, his shoulder almost touching yours, “that’s where Sunghoon and I got hopelessly lost on a school trip. He was too stubborn to ask for directions. We nearly froze to death.”

You laughed, turning to him. “I can picture that.”

“Picture what?”

Sunghoon’s voice was quiet, right behind you. You hadn’t heard him approach. He slid between you and Jake with a smooth, deliberate movement. His arm came around your waist, his hand settling on your hip, pulling you back against him.

“Just reminiscing about your navigational failures,” Jake said, his grin not fading, but his eyes flicking between Sunghoon’s face and the hand on your waist.

“Mm,” Sunghoon murmured, his breath stirring the hair near your ear. His thumb moved, a slow, unconscious stroke against your dress. “Don’t believe a word he says. He was the one who dropped our map in the mud and got us lost in the first place.”

Despite the conversation not dying out, Sunghoon kept you anchored to his side, his fingers splayed on your hip, the warmth of his chest against your shoulder. Sunghoon’s interjections became more frequent in your interactions with Jay and Jake, his dry remarks steering the conversation away from anything that involved you and his friends directly interacting.

You couldn't say you didn’t expect that the journey back would be shrouded in a heavy silence. Sunghoon stared out the window, his jaw tight.

“Did you have a good time?” he finally asked, his voice devoid of inflection.

“I did,” you said carefully. “They’re lovely.”

“They seemed to think the same of you.” The words were clipped.

You turned to look at his profile. “Is that a problem?”

He didn’t answer. He just kept looking out at the passing lights, the muscle in his jaw working. The possessiveness he’d shown at the penthouse was gone, replaced by this cold, withdrawn sulk. It was so childish, and so utterly at odds with the man in the novel, who wouldn’t have batted an eye if the original Y/N had flirted with an entire football team. He’d found her disgusting, but he hadn’t cared. He’d been indifferent.

This wasn’t indifference.

The realization sent a dangerous thrill through you, followed immediately by a wave of guilt. You were messing with the script, and you had no idea what the new plot was.

Back at home, he headed straight for his study without a word. You stood in the grand living room, feeling unmoored. The heat from his touch still lingered on your skin, but the silent treatment felt worse than any cold remark. You took a deep breath and followed him.

He was standing by the window, a dark silhouette against the city’s glitter.

“Sunghoon.”

He didn’t turn.

You walked closer, your heels silent on the rug. “Are you angry with me?”

“No.” The word was short, final.

“You seem like it.”

He finally turned. In the dim light from the window, his expression was unreadable. “I’m not angry. I just don’t appreciate your…” he pretended to think. “Acting.”

“Acting?”

“The laughing. The leaning in. The wide-eyed interest in everything they said.” His tone was low, edged with something you couldn’t understand. “It was a bit much, don’t you think?”

A flash of irritation burst through you. “I was being polite. And for your information, I was genuinely interested. They’re good people, it was a normal conversation.”

“It didn’t look normal from where I was sitting.” He took a step closer. The air between you crackled. “Looked like you were enjoying their attention a little too much.”

You closed the remaining distance between you, stopping just an arm’s length away. You looked up at him, at the storm in his gray eyes. “Sunghoon,” you said, your voice tender. “They’re your friends. I was nice to them because they’re important to you. That’s all.”

But if anything, your softness seemed to make it worse.

A low, frustrated sound escaped him. He finally turned, but not to look at you. His gaze swept over his desk, the neat stacks of papers, as if searching for an escape. “That’s not the point,” he said, his voice clipped and cold.

The aching in your chest curdled into a sharp spike of annoyance. You’d spent the entire evening navigating his unpredictable moods, from his possessive display at Jay’s to this petulant silence. You’d offered an olive branch, and he was swatting it away.

“Then what is the point, Sunghoon?” you asked, the calm in your voice beginning to fray. “Because from where I’m standing, you invited me to meet the only people in your life who seem to actually like you, I had a genuinely pleasant conversation with them, and now you’re treating me like I’ve committed some kind of crime. So, please, enlighten me. What exactly did I do wrong? Was my laugh too loud? Were my interests too provocative?”

He flinched, just a tiny tightening around his eyes, but it was enough. He looked at you then, and the storm in his brown eyes was now a cold front. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” he said, the accusation falling like a blade. “You have this—” he ran his hands through his hair. “This way. You turn it on and off. For the press, for my employees, for my friends. That wide-eyed fascination. That laugh that makes men feel like they’re the wittiest person in the world. It’s an act. And a very convincing one, apparently.”

The accusation was so absurd, so wildly off-base, that for a second you were speechless. He was describing the original Y/N. Not you. You’d forgotten to act tonight.

That was the whole problem.

Your own frustration boiled over. “You are impossible, Sunghoon,” you stated, the words leaving your lips before you could temper them. “And you’re not even making sense. You’re jealous of your own friends for having a regular conversation with me. Do you hear yourself?”

You didn’t wait for an answer. The conversation was going in circles, spiraling into a void where his logic couldn’t follow. The warmth of the evening, the feeling of connection with Jake and Jay, the heat of his hand on your hip—it was all being poisoned by this stubborn, childish sulk. You were tired. The emotional whiplash was exhausting.

“You know what? Forget it,” you said, turning on your heel. The silk of your dress whispered against your legs as you strode toward the study door. “I’m going to bed. You can stand here and brood at the skyline all night for all I care.”

You reached for the polished brass handle, your fingers closing around the cool metal. You pulled.

The door didn’t budge.

A large, warm hand was splayed flat against the dark wood, just above your head, holding it shut. You hadn’t heard him move, but he was right there behind you, his body warm. The scent of his cologne enveloped you. You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

“Wait.”

His voice was close, right by your ear. It had lost its icy edge. Now it was just rough, scraped raw.

You didn’t turn. You stared at the grain of the wood, at his long fingers pressed white-knuckled against it. “Let me go, Sunghoon.”

“I said wait.” The hand on the door slid down, his arm now caging you in, his chest not quite touching your back but you could feel the heat of him through the thin layers of your dress and his shirt. “Just—please. Wait a moment.”

The fight drained out of you, replaced by a shaky, breathless awareness. You leaned your forehead lightly against the door, closing your eyes. “Why?”

A long pause. You could hear his breathing, slightly uneven. “Because you’re right,” he said, the words so quiet you almost didn’t hear them. “I’m being impossible.”

You blinked, your eyes still closed.

Huh?

He continued, the words coming out in a reluctant, stilted rush, as if being forced past a great internal resistance. “It wasn’t an act. I could see that. Tonight. With them.” He took a deep breath, his chest expanding behind you. “You were—yourself. And they liked you. Jake was practically hanging on your every word about that absurd painting with the floating clocks.”

“Dali,” you murmured automatically.

“Yes, Dali.” he echoed. He shifted, his arm brushing against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “The point is…” he cleared his throat. “I’m not used to it.”

“To what? To people liking your fiancée?”

“To caring if they do,” he admitted. “To watching it happen and feeling like I…” He trailed off. “It’s unfamiliar. And I handled it poorly. I apologize.”

The formal, stiff apology was so like him, yet the vulnerability laced through it was entirely new. The annoyance melted away, leaving that strange, aching tenderness in its place.

You finally turned, slowly, under the arch of his arm. You had to tilt your head back to look at him. In the dim light, his handsome face was all sharp angles and shadow, but his eyes… they held a turmoil you’d never seen before.

“You were jealous,” you said, not as an accusation, but as a simple, gentle observation.

He held your gaze for a long moment, then looked away, his jaw working. A faint, almost imperceptible flush touched the high points of his cheeks. “I was. It was… illogical.”

“A little,” you agreed, a small smile touching your lips. “They’re your best friends. Jake looks at you like you hung the moon. Jay clearly adores you. They were just being kind to me because I’m with you.”

He looked back at you, searching your face. “You’re not upset?”

“I was annoyed,” you said honestly. “Because you were being a grumpy, silent statue and it was confusing. But I’m not upset.” You reached up, tentatively, and placed a hand lightly on his chest, over his sternum. You could feel the steady, strong beat of his heart beneath your palm. “It’s okay to feel things, Sunghoon. Even if they’re messy and confusing and don’t make sense.”

He stared down at your hand on his chest, then his gaze lifted to yours. His brows were knitted upwards. “I don’t know how to do this,” he said, the words so quiet they were almost swallowed by the room.

“Do what?”

“Any of it.” The admission seemed to unlock something. The words started to tumble out, low and rushed. “This. Having someone here. Someone who—who argues with me and really listens to me and doesn’t look at my friends as potential social climbing opportunities. Someone who gets annoyed when I’m being an ass instead of just simpering. And then seeing you with them, so natural, so easy… it felt like you fit. You fit into a part of my life that has nothing to do with mergers or board meetings. And I didn’t know what to do with that. I still don’t. It’s—well, it’s kind of unsettling. It’s ridiculous. I know it’s ridiculous. Jay would laugh himself sick if he knew. He’s probably already guessed. He’s annoyingly perceptive about these things. Which is another problem, because now I’ll have to hear about it for weeks, and he’ll make some comment about me being emotionally stunted, which is technically accurate but still rude to point out, especially when I’m the one usually paying for his overpriced whiskey—”

He was rambling. Park Sunghoon, the master of terse, cutting remarks, was rambling.

You let out a breathy, incredulous little giggle.

He stopped mid-sentence, his brows drawing together again. “What?”

You shook your head, your smile widening. “Nothing. It’s just… you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He blinked. Cute. You were certain no one had ever used that word to describe Park Sunghoon in his entire life. A series of emotions flickered across his face: disbelief, offense, and then a dawning, bewildered wonder. The faint blush on his cheeks deepened.

“I am not,” he stated, but the protest sounded almost petulant.

“You are a little,” you insisted, your thumb making a small, unconscious circle on his shirt. “All this big, brooding energy because your friends and your fake fiancée got along too well. It’s adorable.”

He stared at you, utterly disarmed. The hand that wasn’t braced against the door came up, hesitated, then gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. His touch was feather-light, tentative. “You’re the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met,” he murmured.

“I know,” you whispered back.

Your eyes dropped to his lips, then flicked back up to his. His gaze was locked on your mouth. For one heart-stopping second, you thought he might kiss you. The air grew thick, your breath coming shorter. His head dipped slightly, his eyes darkening—

—but then he stopped. He closed his eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath, and straightened. The moment shattered.

His hand fell from your face, and he took a small, deliberate step back.

He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at you. “Go to bed,” he said, his voice rough, scraping over the words. “We have the drive to my parents’ estate tomorrow.”

THE PARK FAMILY ESTATE WAS LESS A HOUSE AND MORE A DISPLAY OF WEALTH. It was all severe lines, imported stone, and meticulously manicured gardens that looked like no one was allowed to walk in them. The air itself felt several degrees cooler when you stepped out of the car.

Sunghoon’s father, Chairman Park, was exactly as the novel had foretold: a man carved from glacier ice, a crueller, harsher version of Sunghoon. His greeting was a curt nod, his eyes assessing you. His mother, on the other hand, was far more complex. She was elegant, with a smile that reached her eyes but didn't quite warm them, and she welcomed you gracefully, complimenting your dress, asking after the wedding plans with a tone of mild interest.

Dinner was a silent, formal affair. The clink of silverware against fine china was deafening. Chairman Park grilled Sunghoon on work, dismissing his answers with grunts. He ignored you completely. Mrs. Park attempted lighter conversation, asking you about your family, your interests. You answered as blandly as possible, sticking to the script you imagined the original Y/N would have used: mentions of charitable boards, designer names.

“You must be so excited for the wedding, dear,” Mrs. Park said as dessert was served, a fragile porcelain cup of tea placed before her. “It’s such a wonderful opportunity to solidify your future.”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yes, of course.”

“Sunghoon tells me you’ve been spending a lot of time together since you’ve started living together. Getting to know each other.” Her smile remained, but her eyes were sharp and beady. “That’s good. A strong foundation of… understanding is so important in these arrangements.”

At the word ‘arrangement’, Sunghoon, beside you, went very still.

After dinner, Mrs. Park suggested a walk in the garden. “The roses are in bloom, Y/N. Come, let’s get some air.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. You followed her out into the twilight, the scent of roses indeed thick and almost cloying. She walked in silence for a while along a gravel path that wound past sculpted hedges and a large koi pond.

“You are a very different girl from the reports I received,” she began, her voice conversational. “The Y/N we researched was rather more acquisitive. I thought that before, you knew what this marriage was.” She turned to you. “A strategic alliance for your family’s benefit and for the stability of ours.”

You kept your eyes on the path, your stomach knotting.

“But it seems this new version of you,” she continued, stopping by the pond to watch the orange and white shapes glide beneath the water’s surface. “Is quite confusing for my son, I think. He is a man who values clarity. He understands transactions.” She turned to you, her smile still perfectly in place. “Your job, my dear, is to be a compliant partner and an asset to him. Not to… confuse him by making him question the nature of the transaction.”

The gentleness in her tone made the words cut deeper. “I’m not trying to confuse him,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Aren’t you?” she asked, tilting her head. She let out a soft, pitying sigh. “You’re forgetting your place. This is a business arrangement. When the time is right, and his position is unassailable, you will both go your separate ways with the agreed-upon compensation. Any emotional complication is a breach of contract.” She placed a cold, delicate hand on your arm. “Do not make the mistake of believing this is a love story, Y/N. Remember who you are. And more importantly, remember who he is.”

Your head was spinning.

She gave your arm a faint pat. “I’ll leave you to enjoy the pond. Do find your way back before it gets too dark.”

She walked away, her footsteps silent on the gravel, leaving you alone by the darkening water.

The dam broke.

Tears, hot and shameful, welled up and spilled over. She was right. Of course she was right. You were an imposter in every sense. An imposter in this body, in this life, and now, an imposter in your own feelings. You were muddying the waters of a simple deal, risking everything for a man who was made to love someone else. The sobs came then, quiet and wrenching, your shoulders shaking as you stared blindly at the koi, your tears making small splashes in the pond.

You didn’t hear his approach. You only sensed a presence, and you quickly wiped your cheeks with the backs of your hands, turning your face away.

“Y/N?”

Sunghoon’s voice, close. Panic spiked inside you.

You couldn’t let him see.

“I’m fine,” you choked out, your voice thick. “Just—um. Admiring the pond. Give me a minute.”

“Look at me.”

“No, really, I’m—”

“Y/N.” His voice was low, but it was a command nonetheless. “Look at me.”

Slowly, you turned. The last of the twilight caught the tracks of your tears, glistening on your skin. His expression, which had been carefully neutral when he found you, shattered. His eyes widened, then darkened with fury.

“What did she say to you?” The question was a soft, deadly thing.

You shook your head, fresh tears falling. “Nothing. She didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Tell me.” He took a step closer.

“She just—just reminded me of my place,” you whispered, the words tasting like ash. “That this is just an arrangement. That I shouldn’t… forget what it is. That I’m—I’m confusing you. And she’s right, Sunghoon, I am. I’m messing it all up, and I’m—” you sniffed. “I’m so sorry—”

“Stop.” The word was a whip-crack. He closed the final distance, his hands coming up to frame your face. His thumbs brushed the tears from your cheeks. “She has no right. No right to speak to you like that.”

“She does,” you cried, the frustration and heartbreak pouring out. “This is her world! These are her rules! I’m just a temporary fixture, and I’m acting like—like I’m something else. I’m sorry for being confusing. I’m sorry for the skating and the congee and for talking to your friends and for just… for just being here all wrong!”

You were babbling, tears streaming freely now. You tried to pull away, but he didn’t let you. Instead, he pulled you into his chest.

One arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, the other hand cradled the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair. He held you firmly, securely, as you cried into the crisp cotton of his shirt. He didn’t shush you. He didn’t tell you it would be okay. He just held you, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“Y/N,” he murmured into your hair. “You are the only thing that has made any sense in a very, very long time.”

You clung to him, your fists bunching in the fabric of his shirt. His hand moved from your head to stroke your hair, slow, calming strokes. You could feel the steady, strong beat of his heart against your cheek, and the last of your resistance melted away, and you sank into the embrace, letting him hold the pieces of you together.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped in the silence of the garden and the sanctuary of his arms. The tears eventually subsided, leaving you hollowed out and shaky. He didn’t let go until finally, you took a ragged, shuddering breath. He leaned back just enough to look down at you, his hands moving to cup your face again. His thumbs wiped away the last of the moisture on your cheeks. His eyes searched yours.

“We’re leaving,” he said.

He kept one arm around you, guiding you firmly back toward the monstrous house, not to say goodbye to his parents, but straight to the car. He opened the passenger door for you, got in the driver’s side, started the engine, and pulled away from the estate without a backward glance.

You looked out the window, watching the dark countryside blur past, feeling the ghost of his arms around you, the sensation of his fingers in your hair. Your skin still tingled where he’d touched you. Then you snuck a glance at his profile, lit by the dashboard lights. His jaw was set, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but the cold fury had settled into a deep, simmering resolve. He had chosen a side. And for tonight, at least, he had chosen yours.

Though, of course, life humbled you. Confusion had to come from the other side of the equation: Lee Soojin.

The wedding planning continued as normal. You made a point of being pleasant, supportive even. You praised her ideas, deferred to her taste. You were the dream client, and her initial nervousness around you melted into a warm, professional respect. You liked her. She was kind, hardworking, genuinely talented.

And Sunghoon always noticed her. It was natural that he did—that was how it was meant to go. In meetings, he was engaged, asking questions, offering solutions. You’d catch him watching her as she meticulously arranged sample centerpieces, a considering look on his face. Once, when she dropped a binder, he was out of his chair in an instant to help her gather the scattered papers. Their hands brushed. You saw the faint pink that tinged Soojin’s cheeks, the way she couldn’t quite meet his eyes afterward, and the jealousy brewing in the pit of your stomach almost became acidic.

It was exactly as the novel said. The cold CEO, melted by the genuine warmth of the commoner. You’d see them talking quietly in a corner of his office after a meeting had officially ended, and that strange pang would hit your chest again.

THE WORST WAS THE DAY OF THE FINAL VENUE WALKTHROUGH. You’d arrived separately from Sunghoon, caught in a snarl of downtown traffic.

The location was a stunning, glass-walled conservatory overlooking the river. By the time you rushed through the arched entrance, the late afternoon sun was casting long shadows across the polished floor.

You saw them before they saw you.

They were at the far end of the conservatory, standing on a temporary wooden platform that marked where the altar would be. Lee Soojin was pointing towards the ceiling, explaining something about hanging floral installations, her face animated with passion. And Sunghoon…

Sunghoon was listening. Not just listening, but absorbing it all. He stood beside her, his hands in the pockets of his trousers, his head tilted slightly toward her. The sunlight streamed through the glass panes, catching the dust motes in the air and painting them both in a soft, golden glow.

It was a perfect picture. The ambitious, brilliant CEO and the creative, warm-hearted wedding planner. He was asking a question, his expression serious but open, and Soojin smiled, gesturing with her hands as she answered.

You could see it, the rows of chairs filled with Seoul’s elite. The live music swelling. Soojin, in a simple, beautiful dress that wasn’t the one you’d picked, walking down this very aisle. And Sunghoon, waiting for her right there, on that platform, his brown eyes fixed only on her. The image was so vivid that it stole the breath from your lungs. Your chest constricted, a sharp ache that had nothing to do with the hurried walk from the car.

This was it. The real beginning of the end for Cha Y/N.

Sunghoon’s gaze finally flickered away from Soojin and landed on you, standing frozen in the doorway. The open, engaged expression on his face closed down, smoothed into the more familiar, neutral mask. He straightened up.

“You’re late.”

“Traffic,” you said, your voice sounding brittle and thin to your own ears. You forced a smile, directing it at Soojin, who had turned and was now offering you a polite, slightly nervous bow. “Sorry, Miss Lee. Please, show me what you’ve finalized.”

You walked forward, your heels clicking a sharp, lonely rhythm on the stone. As you passed Sunghoon to join Soojin by the platform, he did something unexpected. He reached out and briefly, almost absently, tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers were cool against your heated skin. “You look flushed,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Did you run?”

The gesture was so intimate. A week ago, it might have sent a thrill through you. Now, it just felt like salt in the wound. He’s just playing his part, a vicious voice in your head whispered. The attentive fiancé in front of the help. It doesn’t mean anything. He was just looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Just the heat,” you lied, pulling away slightly, your smile feeling more like a grimace.

The rest of the walkthrough was agony. You nodded and agreed to everything Soojin proposed: the arch of white orchids, the string quartet placement, the timing for the sunset ceremony. But you felt like a spectator haunting your own life. Your responses were automatic. “Lovely.” “Perfect.” “Whatever you think is best.”

You watched Sunghoon and Soojin discuss the practicalities. Lighting cues for the photographer, the route for the caterers, backup plans for rain. Their rapport was seamless. He’d ask a sharp, logistical question, and she’d have a thoughtful, prepared answer. He’d nod, a flicker of approval in his eyes, and suggest a minor refinement. She’d consider it, then agree with a bright, “Yes, that’s much more efficient!” Every shared titter over a hiccup, every moment of unspoken understanding as they examined a floor plan, felt like a tiny paper cut on your heart. A hundred small, insignificant slices that left you feeling quietly, profoundly bloody.

As she got to her binder, Soojin tripped slightly on a loose cable snaking across the floor. Sunghoon’s hand shot out, steadying her by the elbow. “Careful,” he said, his voice soft.

“Oh! Thank you, Mr. Park,” Soojin stammered, her cheeks flushing a pretty, delicate pink again. She quickly righted herself, but her gaze lingered on his face for a second too long before she busied herself with her clipboard.

You looked away, your throat tight.

A little while later, as you were examining sample table linens, Sunghoon stood close behind you, leaning over your shoulder to point at a fabric swatch in Soojin’s hand. His chest brushed against your back. “I like the ivory better, not the stark white,” he said, his voice a soft rumble near your ear. “It’ll be less harsh under the lights.”

You stiffened, every nerve ending hyper-aware.

“Yes,” you managed to whisper. “Okay. The ivory is better.”

He stayed there for a moment longer than necessary, and then he straightened up, the warmth leaving your back.

The walkthrough concluded with polite bows and assurances. Soojin promised to have the revised layouts emailed by the morning. Sunghoon gave a curt nod. “Your work is impressive, Miss Lee. Thank you.”

The praise, so directly given, made Soojin beam. “Thank you, Mr. Park! I won’t let you down.”

No, you thought, the ache in your chest deepening. You certainly won’t.

That night, back in the penthouse, you were curled on the vast living room sofa, a book (decidedly not a romance) open but unread on your lap. You were replaying the image of them by the window, trying to quash the hollow feeling it left behind. This was the plan. This was what you wanted. For them to fall in love, for the story to proceed, so you could leave.

So why did it feel like this?

You heard his footsteps first, then the subtle shift in the air as he entered the room. He didn’t sit. He came to stand behind the sofa, looking down at you. You kept your eyes on your book, but you could feel his gaze like a physical touch, tracing the line of your shoulder, the curve of your neck where your hair had fallen away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice dropping into that lower register that seemed reserved for these late-night moments.

You swallowed. “Nothing. Just tired.”

The lie hung in the air. He was quiet for a long moment. You could almost hear him weighing his next move. Then, you felt the cushion dip slightly as he leaned forward, his hands coming to rest on the back of the sofa, one on either side of you.

“You’ve been quiet since the venue,” he stated, his voice a soft rumble near your ear. “Was it something Miss Lee said?”

The mention of her name was like a splash of cold water. You closed your book with a soft snap. “No. She was perfect. Everything is perfect.” You made to get up, to escape to the safety of your room.

A hand, firm and warm, landed on your shoulder, gently pressing you back down. “Y/N.”

You froze. He almost never used your name. It was always “you,” or “Miss Cha” in formal settings. The sound of it in his voice, so close, did something dangerous to your insides.

“Look at me.”

Slowly, you turned your head to look up at him. He was leaning over the back of the sofa, his face serious, his storm-cloud eyes searching yours. The distance between your faces was less than a foot. You could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the slight pulse at the base of his throat. Your breath caught.

“I don’t believe you,” he said softly

Fine, you wanted to say. Something did happen. The entire plot of a trashy romance novel happened. And I saw you smiling at her, and it’s supposed to happen, but it feels all wrong now.

“I mean it,” you said instead. “It’s nothing. Really.” You offered him a weak smile. “Just pre-wedding jitters, I guess.”

He studied your face for a long moment, his own unreadable. Then he nodded slowly, not looking convinced. He reached out, and for a heart-stopping second, you thought he might touch your face. But his hand just brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead, the contact brief.

“Okay. Get some rest,” he said, his voice quiet. He stood and left the room, leaving you alone with the echo of his touch and the churning confusion in your gut.

Here lay the entire problem: the more you saw of the real Park Sunghoon, the more the fictional version paled in comparison. The attraction you’d felt for a character became a terrifyingly real pull towards the living, breathing man. You’d catch yourself watching him, a hollow ache blooming in your chest, before violently shoving the feeling down. He’s not for you. This story isn’t yours. His happiness is with Soojin

The pang in your chest was no longer alien, it was a constant, dull companion. And it was your cue to exit, stage left.

Enough. You had played your part. You had been harmless. You had, against all odds, built something resembling a civil friendship with the male lead. Now it was time to give him his freedom, take your cushy payout, and vanish. You had your lawyer draw up a simple, clean, no-fault dissolution of the engagement agreement, and then you requested a meeting in his office. The same office where you’d first met Soojin.

HE WAS AT HIS DESK, BUT HE WASN’T WORKING. He was waiting for you, leaning back in his chair, watching you as you entered. The afternoon light slanted across the room, splashing everything in gold and shadow.

“You wanted to see me,” he said. His voice was deceptively casual, but his posture was alert.

You managed a nod, your throat suddenly dry. The leather folder in your hand felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

He pushed off the desk and closed the distance between you in a few unhurried strides. Before you could step back or offer a handshake—any kind of businesslike gesture—his arm slid around your waist, pulling you gently against him. He dipped his head, his nose brushing the hair at your temple as he inhaled softly. “It’s nice to have you here,” he murmured, the words a warm puff against your skin.

You forced yourself to relax into the half-embrace, your mind screaming at the contradiction. This was the man who’d taken care of you when you were sick, who taught you to skate. This was also the man whose destiny was written in ink, intertwined with another woman’s name. The hollow ache in your chest expanded, threatening to swallow your resolve.

“I just needed to talk to you about something,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. You extricated yourself from his hold.

He frowned, returning back to his desk. “Is that right?”

“Yes.” You placed the sleek leather folder on the desk between you. “I need you to sign these.”

He didn’t look at it. His eyes stayed on your face. “What is it?”

“The termination of our engagement.” The words came out steady, practiced. “My lawyers have already reviewed it. It’s very straightforward. The settlement terms are there, and I think you’ll find them reasonable.”

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence from him. The gold light glinted off the edges of the folder, off the sharp line of his cheekbone.

He didn’t move. He didn’t blink.

Slowly, so slowly, he leaned forward. He didn’t reach for the folder. He placed his palms flat on the desk, his knuckles white. When he spoke, his voice was a low, controlled vibration.

“What?”

“I’m calling off the arrangement,” you repeated, your own voice sounding thin in comparison. “It’s for the best. We both know this was never a real—”

“For the best,” he echoed, cutting you off. The control was cracking. You could see it at the edges—a muscle jumping in his jaw, a storm gathering in those dark eyes. He pushed back from the desk and stood up, the movement fluid and predatory. He loomed over the desk, over you. “For the best? Are you serious? You come into my life, you—you change everything, you act like a completely different person for months, and now you just… you just drop this on my desk and say it’s for the best?”

“Sunghoon,” you startled at the emotion in his voice, taking an involuntary step back. “We both don’t want this. It’s a business deal that’s run its course. You can be with—”

“With who?” he snapped, his voice rising. He came around the desk, stopping a few feet from you. The space between you crackled with his fury. “Who is it that you think I want to be with? Tell me.”

“Soojin!” you blurted out. “Lee Soojin! It’s obvious, Sunghoon. You’re good together. She’s sweet, she’s genuine, she’s everything that—that this arrangement isn’t. You should be with her. You’re meant to be with her.”

He stared at you as if you’d started speaking in tongues. The anger seemed to freeze, then shatter into pure, unadulterated disbelief. “Soojin,” he scoffed, the name a flat, incredulous syllable. “Our wedding planner.”

“Yes! You talk to her, you laugh with her, you look at her like…” You trailed off, the memory of those looks twisting inside you.

“Like a competent professional whose work I respect?” he fired back, taking another step closer. You could see the faint flecks of gold in his irises, the rapid pulse at the base of his throat. “Is that the crime? Is that what this is about? You’ve decided, based on God-knows-what, that I have feelings for our wedding planner, and so you’re, what? Nobly stepping aside? Is that it?”

It was too close to the truth. You floundered. “It’s logical. This engagement is a farce. We should both be free.”

“Free?” he laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “Are you fucking with me?” He was right in front of you now, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the subtle, clean scent of his cologne. His gaze bored into yours, searching for something you were desperately trying to hide. “For months, I’ve been trying to understand you. I thought—I actually thought…” He broke off, shaking his head, a hand raking through his perfect hair in a gesture of utter frustration. “And now you hand me this. Did I do something? Did I upset you? Is this some new, elaborate game? Because if it is, I need you to tell me the rules right now, because I can’t keep up.”

The pain in his voice, the sheer, bewildered hurt mixed in with the anger, was your undoing. This wasn’t in the novel. The Sunghoon in the novel would have taken the papers with relief, maybe a cutting remark. He wouldn’t be standing here, looking at you like you’d just reached into his chest and pulled out his entire heart.

“It’s not a game,” you whispered, your own resolve crumbling. “And you didn’t do anything wrong. You’ve been—you’ve been lovely. That’s the whole problem.”

“That’s the whole problem,” he repeated, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “I’ve been lovely, so you’re leaving.” He ran his hands through his hair. “That makes no sense. None of this makes any sense, Y/N, I don’t accept this.”

“You have to sign the papers,” you said weakly.

“I don’t have to do a damn thing,” he said, and the final shred of his control vanished. His eyes blazed with conviction. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to walk in here, change every single thing, and then just walk away because you’ve decided what’s for the best. You don’t know what’s best for me.” He leaned in, his face inches from yours. His breath was warm against your skin. “The only thing I know for certain right now,” he said, each word deliberate, hammering, and emphasised, “is that I am not signing those papers.”

“You have to,” you insisted, your voice trembling despite your resolve. “Sunghoon, this isn’t real. What we have is a contract. You’ll get over this. In a month, you’ll look back and be grateful I let you go to be with someone you actually—someone who actually means something to you. Soojin is—”

“Enough.” The word was a guttural snarl that vibrated in the marrow of your bones. His hand, still hovering near your arm, finally closed around your wrist firmly. “Enough about Lee Soojin! You think this is about her?”

He pulled you closer, the motion so sudden you stumbled a half-step forward. The storm in his eyes had broken.

“You want to know what I’ve been thinking about?” he demanded, his voice a ragged scrape of sound. “When I’m in a meeting so boring I want to put my head through the glass, I think about coming home. Not just to this place. To wherever you are. That’s home. I imagine walking in and finding you asleep on the sofa with a book on your chest. I think about picking it up, reading the page you dog-eared, just to know what was in your head before you drifted off. If you’re in the kitchen, I think about you humming to yourself, that off-key little tune you do when you’re making tea, and I wonder what would happen if I came up behind you and put my hands around your waist.”

Your breath hitched, trapped in your throat. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. This was a deviation, a crack in the universe.

“And you think I’ve been—been thinking about her?” He let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “Before you, this place was just a building. I’d work until I couldn’t see straight just to have an excuse not to come back.” His eyebrows were drawn together. “You’ve fucked me up, Y/N. Now I find myself watching the clock like some pathetic highschooler, inventing reasons to wrap things up early. Because you’re here.”

He leaned in, his forehead almost touching yours. “You want to know when I think about Lee Soojin? I think about her when she’s emailing me timelines and invoices. That’s it. She’s a good planner, and she’s doing an excellent job planning a wedding that I don’t want with anyone but you.”

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, a last-ditch defense. “It’s just… the arrangement, Sunghoon. It’s confusing your feelings—”

“Y/N,” He released your wrist, but only to bring both hands up to frame your face, his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones. The touch was devastating in its tenderness. “You think I don’t know what I feel? You think this is confusion? This is the only thing that has ever been clear to me.”

“Sunghoon, please—”

“No.” The word was soft, final. “It’s you. It’s only you. It has only ever been you.” His voice broke on the last word, the raw vulnerability of it slicing through you. “Do you understand? There is no one else, there will never be anyone else for me.”

The world tilted. The solid ground of the plot, of your predetermined escape, crumbled into dust beneath your feet. He was looking at you like you were the sun, but you were just a thief standing in its light.

“You’re wrong,” you choked out, tears spilling over now, matching his. “You have to be wrong. This is a trick. I tricked you. I didn’t mean to, but I did. I’m not her, Sunghoon. The person you think you—the person you feel this for, it’s not me. It’s a lie.”

His brow furrowed, bewildered concern overtaking his features. He wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “What are you talking about? Of course it’s you. Who else would it be?”

“The real Cha Y/N!” you cried, the words tearing free from some deep, secret place of panic. “The one who was supposed to be here! The person I was a year ago! That’s who you were supposed to be engaged to. That’s who you were supposed to hate. And I—I came in and I messed it all up. I was nice to Soojin. I made you congee. I laughed with your friends. I’ve been pretending to be someone,” you sniffled. “Someone better, and you fell for the act. You fell for this—this character.” You were sobbing in earnest now, the guilt and fear and desperate, unwanted hope pouring out of you. “You’re a good man, Sunghoon. You’re just—you feel responsible because I’ve been kind. That’s all this is.”

For a long, suspended moment, he just stared at you, his hands still cradling your face. The anger had drained from his expression, and, to your surprise, he wasn’t looking at you like you were crazy. He was looking at you like he was finally, finally putting the pieces together.

“A character,” he repeated slowly. His thumbs stilled on your skin. “You think you’ve been playing a part.”

“Yes.”

“And the real Cha Y/N… you believe she was someone else. Someone I was meant to despise.”

“Yes.”

He took a deep, slow breath, his gaze searching every inch of your face as if seeing it for the first time. “The night in the car. After the gala. You said you were from a different universe.” he said slowly. “I thought you were joking.”

You couldn’t speak. You just looked at him, your eyes wide with terror.

His voice dropped to a whisper, filled with awe and a terrible, heartbreaking softness. “You weren’t joking, were you?”

The last of your resistance collapsed. You shook your head, a tiny, helpless movement.

“Oh, Y/N,” he breathed. The sound was full of wonder. His grip on your face gentled even further. “My impossible, ridiculous girl. Do you really think it matters to me?” A faint, incredulous smile touched his lips, though his eyes were still wet. “Do you think I’m some honorable hero from one of your books?”

You flinched at the accuracy of it.

His smile faded, replaced by that same conviction. “I told you. I’m not a hero. I’m a selfish man. I want what I want. And I have never, not for one second since you woke up in this world, wanted anyone but you.” He leaned closer, his gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes, dark with a hunger that stole the air from your lungs. “I have spent the last few months in a special kind of hell, Y/N. Do you have any idea what that’s been like? To have the woman I’m contractually bound to be the only woman I can’t fucking have? To watch you walk around in those little sleep shorts, with your hair messy in the morning, and have to pretend I don’t see it? To sit across from you at breakfast and want to clear the entire table with my arm just to get my hands on you?” He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. His voice dropped to a vicious whisper that scraped over every nerve ending. “I’ve thought about bending you over this very desk. I’ve thought about pinning you against that glass and watching the whole city see who you belong to. I’ve thought about your mouth, your thighs, the sounds you’d make if I finally stopped being a gentleman. I’ve fucked my own hand more times these past few months than in my entire life before you, and every single time, it was your name I bit into my pillow to keep from shouting.”

A dizzying wave of heat crashed through you.

“Sunghoon,” you started, but you had no words.

“No,” he growled, pulling back to look at you, his gaze scouring your face. “Listen to me.” He released your wrist only to bring both hands up to frame your face, his touch searing. “You are not leaving me. This engagement is not ending. The only thing that’s ending is this pathetic charade where we pretend this isn’t real.”

He released you so suddenly you swayed. In one fluid, violent motion, he snatched the leather folder from the desk. You watched, hypnotized, as his hands searched for the papers. He tore them in half, then quarters, then let the pieces flutter to the floor.

“The only paper you’ll sign next,” he said, his voice low and final, “is our marriage certificate. Do you understand me?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. His attention was already on his tie. With a sharp tug, he loosened the knot of his silk tie, the dark fabric slithering free. His eyes never left yours as he began to stalk toward you, a predator with its prey finally cornered.

You took a step back. Then another. Your heart was a wild drum against your ribs. The heat between your legs was a throbbing, insistent ache. Your back hit something cool and unyielding—the massive floor-to-ceiling window. The panoramic view of the city sprawled behind you, a dizzying drop of steel and glass. You were trapped between the cold glass and the furnace of his body.

He closed the final distance and planted his hands on the glass on either side of your head, caging you in.

“Now,” he breathed out. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you haven’t thought about it. Lie to me.”

You couldn’t. Your breath hitched, your lips parted. A small, desperate whimper escaped you.

That was all the answer he needed.

He kissed you like he was starving, and you were the first thing he’d had in a lifetime. He kissed you like he was trying to erase every word about leaving, every mention of another person’s name. His teeth grazed your lower lip, a sharp sting of pleasure-pain that made you cry out against his mouth. Your hands flew up to clutch at the crisp fabric of his shirt. A low groan rumbled from his chest into yours.

He swallowed the sound, his tongue tangling with yours, deep and filthy. When he finally broke for air, it was only to drag his lips along your jaw, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

“You think I could look at anyone else,” he growled, his voice a scrape against your ear as he bit your earlobe. “When you’re in my house? In my bed? Fuck.” His hands left the glass and gripped your hips, fingers digging in through the thin fabric of your dress. “Every night. Every goddamn night, Y/N.”

“Sunghoon—” you whimpered, the explicit confession flooding your system with heat.

“Y/N,” he breathed out. He spun you around, your front pressing against the cool, unyielding glass. The city sprawled below, and your breath fogged the window. His body covered yours from behind, his erection a hard, insistent line against the curve of your ass. He pushed your hair aside and buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “I couldn’t stand it,” he whispered, the words a dark, delicious sin directly into your ear. One hand slid around your waist, splaying possessively over your lower belly. The other hand yanked at the hem of your dress, gathering it up around your waist. The cool air kissed your bare thighs, and you shuddered. “Tell me you thought about it, too. Tell me you touched yourself, thinking about my hands on you.”

“Yes,” you breathed, the admission torn from you.

“Good.” The word was a satisfied rumble. His fingers hooked into the lace of your panties. With a sharp tug, the delicate fabric tore, and he palmed your bare ass, then slid his hand between your thighs.

You were soaked. Achingly, shamelessly wet for him.

He groaned, a deep, pained sound. “Look at this.” He dragged two fingers through your slickness, circling your clit with a pressure that made you cry out and press your forehead to the cold glass. “All that talk of leaving,” he breathed out, his voice thick with lust, “but your body knows the truth. It knows who it belongs to.”

He pushed a finger inside you, then a second, curling them expertly. Your inner muscles clenched around him, a pulse of pure need. You moaned.

His other hand slid up your torso, roughly palming your tits through the silk of your dress before finding the zipper at the side. With a sharp tug, he pulled it down, the fabric gaping open. He shoved the material off your shoulders, baring you to the waist. The cool glass met your feverish skin, your nipples pebbling into tight, sensitive points against the smooth, unyielding surface.

“See?” he whispered hotly against your ear, his fingers still working inside you, stretching you, preparing you. “See how pretty you look? Pressed against my window. My view.” He bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulder, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to brand you. “I want the whole city to see. I want every man in every building to look up and see my pretty little wife getting fucked by her husband. To know you’re taken. That you’re mine.”

A shudder of pure, wanton heat racked your body. “We’re—we’re not married yet,” you gasped out, a feeble defense as you ground your hips back against his hand. “We’re just—hngh!—business partners.”

His fingers stilled. Then, slowly, he pulled them out. You whimpered at the loss, the emptiness. You heard the rustle of clothing, the clink of his belt buckle, the slide of a zipper. Then the replacement of the hot, heavy weight of his erection pressed against the cleft of your ass with the velvety head of his cock nudging against your soaked folds.

“Is that so?”

His voice was a low, dangerous purr against the shell of your ear. He held his cock there, just brushing your pussy, his hips making tiny, maddening circles that smeared his pre-cum against your sensitive folds.

“If we’re not married,” he continued, his tone deceptively light, almost conversational, as his hands gripped your hips, “then I suppose this would be improper. A breach of our purely business arrangement.” He pulled back slightly, the loss of his heat a physical pain. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should stop.”

“No,” you gasped, the word torn from you. You tried to push back against him, but his grip was iron, holding you still. “Sunghoon—”

“No?” he echoed, mock-thoughtful. One hand smoothed over your bare hip, his thumb digging into the sensitive dip. “But you were so clear about the terms just now. About it being just business.” He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “Business partners don’t do this, do they, Y/N?”

You were trembling. Your muscles clenched around nothing, aching. “Sunghoon, please.”

“Please what?” he purred, his other hand coming up to circle your throat. “Use your words. Tell me what you need.”

You were beyond pride, beyond the script of the novel, beyond everything but the pounding of your blood and the empty, throbbing want between your legs. “I need you,” you gasped, your forehead grinding against the cool glass. “I need your cock. Please. Please, just… fuck me. I need it. I need you inside me.”

“Where inside you?” he demanded, his voice dropping to a filthy whisper. One hand slid from your hip, around to your lower belly, pressing down. “Here?” He rocked his hips, the blunt head catching on your entrance, pushing in just a single, devastating inch before retreating. A broken cry of agreement left your lips. “You feel that? That’s where I belong. That’s where I’m going to fill you up.”

“Please,” you sobbed, shameless now. “Please, Sunghoon, I need it so bad—”

He sheathed himself to the hilt.

The world dissolved into a white-hot shock of sensation. The stretch was immense, breathtaking, a burning fullness that stole the air from your lungs completely. You screamed, the sound muffled against the glass. He was so deep, you could practically feel him in your womb.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his body going rigid against yours, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “God, you’re tight. You’re taking me so well, baby. So perfect for me.”

He didn’t move for a long moment, letting you feel every inch, letting your body adjust to the overwhelming intrusion. You could feel the heavy throb of him inside you, the way your own muscles fluttered and clenched around him, trying to pull him deeper.

Then he moved.

He pulled out slowly, almost completely, dragging it out before slamming back in. A choked cry was punched from you with each relentless thrust thrust that jolted you forward into the window, your palms squeaking against the glass. The sound of skin slapping against skin, of his ragged breaths and your desperate moans, filled the silent office.

“You thought you could leave?” he panted, his pace increasing, becoming less controlled, more frantic. He wrapped one arm around your waist, hauling you back onto him with every drive of his hips. “You thought you could walk away from me?” He slammed into you, and a sharp cry was punched from your chest. “I’d have found you. I’d have torn the world apart to bring you back. You’re mine.”

“Big words,” you managed to taunt, your voice shaking. “For a man who—ah!—needed a contract to get a wife.”

“You have a smart mouth for someone getting split open on my cock,” he snarled. The arm around your waist tightened, and his other hand came down in a sharp, stinging slap on your ass.

The shock of it made you clench around him harder.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic. “You like that?” He spanked you again, on the other side, and you moaned, pushing your ass back into the contact, into his thrusts. “This perfect cunt,” he hammered into you, “this perfect body. All mine. In a month, you’ll be my wife. Then it’s forever.” His breaths were shaking too, now. “You’ll carry my children. You’ll wear my ring and my marks and my cum every single day until you forget there was ever a time you weren’t mine.”

Your nails scrabbled against the smooth glass. “You’re—you’re insane,” you gasped out.

“For you,” he growled, nipping at your shoulder. “It’s all for you.” His pace became brutal, a piston-like drive that had you seeing stars with each impact. The tightness in your belly wound faster, faster, a spring of sensation ready to snap. You could feel the sweat slick between your bodies.

“That’s it,” he whispered, watching your desperate, pleasure-twisted expression in the darkening reflection of the glass. “See how beautiful you are? Taking all of me. Made for me. My perfect girl.” He slid a hand around your hip, his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing tight little circles. “You want me to put a baby in you, don’t you?” he breathed. “You want to be so full of me you can’t forget for a second who you belong to.”

Your hips rocked back, meeting his thrusts, seeking more, deeper. “Yes,” you whimpered. “Yes, Sunghoon, please.”

In one brutal, fluid motion, he spun you around. Your back hit the glass with a soft thud, the city lights a dizzying backdrop behind him. Before you could process the new position, his mouth was on yours, swallowing your gasp. His tongue mapped the interior of your mouth as his hands gripped your bare thighs, hiking them up around his hips. He entered you again in this new, face-to-face angle, and it was somehow deeper. You could see his face—the dark flush on his cheekbones, the sweat beading at his temples, the madness in his eyes.

His cock sank back into your soaked pussy with a slick thrust, stretching you wide in this new angle that let him grind right against that spot deep inside. Sunghoon groaned low in his throat, his forehead pressing to yours as he started moving again, slow at first, savoring the way your walls clenched around him, pulling him in like you were made to milk every inch. "Fuck, you’re incredible," he rasped, voice rough with awe. "So tight, so wet for me. ‘S like your body's begging to keep me forever."

You clung to his shoulders, nails digging into the taut muscles of his back through his shirt as he picked up the pace, hips snapping forward. Each plunge drove him deeper, the head of his cock dragging along your inner walls, hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves that made stars burst behind your eyelids. The cool glass bit into your spine, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every thrust. All you could focus on was Sunghoon: his breath hot on your neck, his hands bruising your thighs as he held you open, fucking you so hard you were sure you’d forget your own name by the time he was done.

"That's my girl," he murmured, lips brushing your ear, his rhythm turning relentless. He loved it, the way your pussy fluttered around his thick length, the obscene wet sounds of him sliding in and out, the way your tits bounced with each thrust. He shifted his grip, hiking you up higher so that one hand could slide up to cup your breast, thumb flicking your hardened nipple while he lowered his mouth to the other.

Your head fell back against the window, a series of punched-out moan and whimpers tearing from your throat. His thrusts grew harder, faster again. You could feel him everywhere—his cock throbbing inside you, his hands on your body, his mouth on your tits, and the tightness climbed further and further, your clit pulsing under the friction of his body—until it snapped. You cried out his name as you rode the waves of your orgasm, legs trembling in his hold.

Sunghoon followed seconds later, burying himself to the hilt with your name on his lips. His cock pulsed, hot spurts of cum flooding your depths, marking you from the inside out. He held you there, grinding deep as he emptied himself. Then slowly, carefully, he pulled out. A hot trickle slid down your inner thigh. He released you from his grip gently, his expression utterly shattered. He looked at you—your flushed face, your kiss-swollen lips, your dress rumpled around your waist—as if you were a miracle.

He leaned down and kissed you softly. “I’m in love with you, you impossible woman,” he whispered against your lips. “I think I have been since you shoved me out of the way to make congee.”

A watery laugh-sob escaped you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on.

He kissed your forehead, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. Then his expression grew serious again, though the tenderness remained, and he reached for his discarded suit jacket, draped over his desk chair, and wrapped it around your shoulders. Then looked at the scattered shreds of the termination agreement on the floor, then back at you, a dark gleam in his eye. “And just in case you get any more noble, self-sacrificing ideas…” He placed his large hand over your lower belly again, thumb stroking the skin. “We’re not done here. We’re going home, and you can forget about work tomorrow.”

THREE YEARS LATER, THE SOUND OF GLEEFUL SHRIEKS WAS BETTER THAN ANY ALARM CLOCK.

You stirred, a soft smile already on your face before you even opened your eyes. The early morning sun filtered through the gauzy curtains of the bedroom in the penthouse—your penthouse, your bedroom—covering everything in warm, honeyed light. The space beside you in the vast bed was empty, but still warm. You could hear the distant, deep complaints of Sunghoon’s voice mixing with the high, piping laughter of your daughter, Via.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, one hand automatically cradling the gentle, firm swell of your belly. Twenty weeks along with your second. A little brother for Via, the ultrasound had confirmed.

Padding out to the open-plan living area, you leaned against the doorframe, watching. Sunghoon, dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a worn t-shirt, was on his hands and knees, being conquered by a two-year-old warlord in ugly green dinosaur pajamas. Via was perched triumphantly on his back, tiny hands fisted in his shirt, shouting “Daddy, horsey! Faster!”

“I am a CEO,” Sunghoon grumbled, but his voice was full of laughter as he obediently crawled a few more feet across the rug. “I negotiate several deals before you even eat breakfast. I am not a horse.”

“Horsey!” Via insisted, shrieking.

“You heard the boss,” you called out, grinning.

Sunghoon’s head snapped up. His face, which still took your breath away, softened instantly when he saw you. Even with sleep-tousled hair, he still made your heart do that stupid flip with a smile that reached his crinkled eyes. “Look, Via, Mama’s awake,” he said, carefully rolling so he could scoop your giggling daughter into his arms as he stood.

“Mama!” Via reached for you, and Sunghoon carried her over, depositing a wriggling, warm bundle into your arms before leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet.

“Good morning, baby.” he murmured against your lips. “How did you sleep?”

“Perfectly,” you said, meaning it. You kissed Via’s dark hair. “Unlike someone who was apparently running a rodeo at 7 AM.”

“She has her mother’s energy,” Sunghoon said, his hand coming to rest on your belly, his thumb stroking the curve. “And her mother’s terrible sense of timing.” he mock-frowned. “Why’d you have to get up now? I was just about to bring you breakfast in bed.”

“Mm, no,” you leaned into him. “This is much better.”

my first long-ish fic...thats why i used dividers but wow its lowkey too many sweats anyway she is my baby this took me so long (literally over a month lol) but i hope u like her....... to be honest with u guys,,, i dont like it 😭 i was super excited abt this idea but i dont like at all how it came out and i honestly think i could have done so much better but i just wanted to get this done even if it was shit i cant lie im sorry 😞 it felt so weird to finish off after everything,, im still pretty torn up about it so if anything at all came off a little weird thats my bad 🥲🥲🥲 anyway i hope u liked it tho, and i hope ur all doing good and keeping healthy (and boycotting belift !!) <3 much love from ur mona heedimples 💝

The Witch's Council chambers was an old place outside town that smelled like wood, incense and power. You could easily sense the magic and power like it was engraved in the air, strong and ancient. But the old-fashioned look was interrupted by modern touches: new chairs, a wall projector and council members with iPads, some others playing with their phones. Not the entire council was present; only the president, Na Seorin, and the vice president, Kim Junseo, Minju's father. Off to one side stood the council secretary, Lee Sunjae, who seemed more engrossed in his phone than in what was happening around him, wearing a deep, concentrated frown. He was very, very focused on his phone and at some point he even leaned towards Seorin, asking her if she could send him lives on Candy Crush. She silenced him with an unimpressed look.

There was a small jury of witches and warlocks that you obviously knew, uncles and aunts and even parents of some friends, people who you grew up around. You were sitting with Minju on a wooden bench at the front, being judged in a very dramatic fashion in your opinion. Your back was straight and your knees touching and Minju wore the same position, you could feel the nervousness radiating from her. You didn’t quite know why you'd been summoned there with her, but hell, you wouldn't open your mouth to incriminate yourself until someone else started the whole thing. What was worse, you and Minju didn't have time to talk and organize a lie together.

‘’We are here to clarify the events of last Friday that have caught our attention,’’ Minju’s dad started, voice calm. He turned to face the jury. ‘’We have sufficient reasons to believe that both witches are involved.’’

You raised both eyebrows and tilted your head, wondering what on earth was going on. You weren’t involved in shit. Beside you, Minju whimpered under her breath, probably knowing where this whole thing was heading. Junseo turned his attention towards you and it took everything in you not to shrink under his steel gaze. He looked like a very offended father. 

‘’You are a well-known associate of Kim Minju. You grew up together and are very close, as we all know. Responsible, respectful, talented with magic, and disciplined.’’

‘’Thank you, sir,’’ you muttered, lowering your head humbly and nodding. You heard one juror behind you cooing and telling another how polite you were. 

‘’Did Minju attend a fraternity party Friday night?’’ He asked.

Oh, so that's what this was all about. You lied without even thinking, in a steady voice, even frowning slightly as if you were confused that he even asked you that. ‘’Um, of course not. She spent the night with me; we were catching up on some reading. It was a quiet night, and we went to bed early.’’

You knew perfectly well that was a damn lie. The last thing Minju would do is spend a Friday cooped up inside studying instead of following Jungwon, her campus crush, to parties. You knew Minju was pretty easygoing and a lightweight, so alcohol wasn't exactly the wisest thing to give her, since chaos usually followed her wherever she went. When you asked her the next day how the party was, Minju only remembered maybe a quarter of it, not even a half. You weren't entirely sure what Minju had done to warrant a damn jury of witches, but you were going to defend your best friend no matter what anyway. Minju was... prone to getting into strange situations. You were used to it. 

You turned your face and smiled innocently at the jury trying to sell your act; some thoughtful murmurs reached you while others simply nodded in agreement. You looked at Junseo as if nothing was wrong, with an open and friendly expression, nothing challenging or mocking. His eyes studied your expression and Minju's in a very familiar way, like when you were little and he wanted to find out which of you had eaten the whole drawer of chocolates.

‘’I don't know exactly what this is about, but I guess the only thing I can assure Minju did was snore very loudly,’’ you joked with a chuckle. ‘’We had a super quiet Friday, sir.’’

Minju gave you a playful nudge and you both giggled adorably, the very picture of good, innocent girls that the jury was totally buying into. For a beautiful moment you believed it had worked and that would be all, except that Mr. Kim had an ace up his sleeve.

He just nodded thoughtfully and, without saying a word, simply raised his hand holding a small remote control. The projector sprang to life and displayed a slightly blurry image filmed from a porch security camera. The room filled with sound: loud, silly laughter, someone yelling "aim well!" and "do it again!" A group of clearly drunk college kids came into view, eggs in their hands. Someone threw one and completely missed the house; another projectile did hit the door and splattered a little on the camera. 

Minju gasped next to you. ‘’Oh my God. No way.’’

Then Minju's face appeared, her eyes wide and dilated, her mascara slightly smudged, and smiling as if she had just summoned a vortex of pure chaos. You frowned, believing your sight was deceiving you, but no, Minju was throwing or at least trying to throw eggs. She looked absolutely ridiculous, drunk as a sailor and staggering, unable to contain her drunk giggles, hands full of eggs, some failing into the floor. You covered your mouth, trying to control your laugh from spilling. 

‘’Oh no,’’ Minju blurted with worry. ‘’My hair looked like that?!’’

You closed your eyes with a sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose. The video continued playing, showing Minju teetering on the sidewalk and trying to aim the eggs, some landing on her shoes while others cheered on her failed attempts. No eggs actually hit the house. Now you understood why the two of them were there. The house that Minju and her friends had vandalized was one of the oldest in town, now a museum, and what not many people knew was that it had actually been a house belonging to the witch settlers. In fact, nobody knew, except for those of their kind. Minju egged a historic house to your community, a very important one. 

The screen went dark and a heavy silence fell over the room. The president spoke for the first time, clearing her voice. ‘’Girls, this is not exemplary behavior for witches.’’

‘’I know and I’m sorry,’’ Minju panicked, moving her hands desperately. ‘’I’ve grown since then! I swear!’’

‘’This happened three days ago,’’ her father said flatly. 

The president moved her attention to you and you shrank a little in your seat under her stare. ‘’And you have lied to this council and the jury, covering up for the accused.’’

You deflated like a balloon, looking at the floor. ‘’Yes,’’ you admitted with a sigh, there was no point in denying it. ‘’I did. I’m sorry.’’

Seorin sighed loudly. ‘’You’re two young witches still forging their path, but at your age you should already understand certain rules. This room isn't a place for lies, girls. Magic doesn't just respond to power, but to truth,’’ she scolded you two gently but firmly; her eyes were not unkind. ‘’I'm a little disappointed in both of you. I was expecting better.’’

Being scolded by an older, more experienced witch felt just as embarrassing as when you were a little girl. Thank goodness your familiar, Soomin, had taken a short vacation, otherwise you would have been doubly scolded, though you suspected she probably already knew. Some jurors nodded, others agreed, and some looked at you two more suspiciously, as if they thought Minju had more eggs in her pockets and was about to attack them. Perhaps with better aim.

‘’This is obviously not a criminal matter, but every action has its consequences,’’ the president continued. ‘’And this is no exception.’’

Minju held your sleeve while looking at you alarmed. ‘’They're going to burn us at the stake!’’ she whispered urgently.

You rolled your eyes and pushed her softly, scoffing. ‘’Of course not!’’

‘’For you,’’ the president said, looking directly into your eyes, ‘’one lunar cycle without lies. No falsehood or trickery, your tongue will always speak the truth. May sincerity teach you an important lesson, young witch.’’

Your stomach dropped, but you maintained your neutral expression, even as you could feel the faint presence of a spell reaching your body and settling there. Your tongue felt heavy for a second and you touched your lips with a frown, noticing that the sensation appeared as quickly as it vanished, as if something had been tied up and then melted on your tongue like candy. Well, fuck.

‘’And for you,’’ she turned to Minju, ‘’you will be in charge of three hens. You will feed them, care for them, clean their coop and collect their eggs. It goes without saying that not a single one should be broken in the entire month.’’

Minju blinked. ‘’Uh, excuse me, Madam President… three?’’

‘’Exactly.’’

‘’Oh. These hens,’’ Minju continued, ‘’are they… alive?’’ 

‘’They’re chickens, Minju,’’ her father sighed tiredly. ‘’That is usually how they work.’’ 

Seorin struck the gavel once. ‘’With this, we conclude the council meeting. Thank you all for your presence today.’’

Minju fell dramatically to your side, staring at the ceiling with a pout. ‘’Next time I’ll tell the truth.’’

You looked at her sideways. ‘’You don't say.’’

She pouted even more, regretting filling her cute features. ’‘I'm sorry I dragged you into this! But it was kind of worth it, if we think about the grand scheme of things. Like, I kissed Jungwon at the party and I got his number!’’

You looked at her in disbelief and wondered if they would increase the punishment if you hanged her right there. ‘’Minju, we're under a spell for a whole month! I can't lie, and you've become the babysitter for three chickens. Aren't you forgetting something?’’

She stared at you blankly, head empty, just waiting for you to say more after she shook his head no.

‘’You're afraid of chickens.’’

By morning you had already begun to encourage yourself. Honesty was easy, wasn't it? You could do this. It's not like you're constantly lying, you weren't a pathological liar. One month. One lunar cycle. Thirty days. It would be easy. You could do this. People liked honest people, after all. 

It's not like the most powerful witch of the coven casted a spell on your tongue forever. There was no chance that a careless word could send you back to the Council chambers with judgmental candles and Minju’s chickens clucking in the distance… right? Right. You could do this. Being honest was a good thing! Maybe this whole mess could turn into something positive. 

But one thought wouldn't leave your mind. How did this spell exactly work? Did silence count as an answer? Perhaps it was a good idea to fake pharyngitis and take a few days off. If you could keep your mouth shut and stay quiet, maybe take a lower profile… Huh. That could maybe do the trick. 

You were so caught up in mental damage control and possible ways to cheat (or maybe not cheating as such, you would call it... walking the spell's edge), that you barely noticed someone started walking beside you.

Too close, close enough that you could smell his cologne. You glanced sideways and there was Park Jongseong in all his glory and blinding smile, gracing you with his presence. Jay was one of those guys who had a high place among campus royalty, definitely a party prince. Everybody knew him. Everybody wanted him. Always smiling like he knew something most people didn't, confident with a track record to back it up: friendly, athletic, way too good with the girls, as you’ve heard the rumors. Trouble.

Your alarm bells were starting to quietly go off because Jay was smiling at you as if you two were lifelong friends (you weren’t), looking at you as if he didn't notice your expression, which was somewhere between disinterest and slight concern (like saying please think twice what you’re about to say).

Jay wasn't a conceited idiot per se, but hey, you weren't going to give all your trust to one of the campus's favorite heartthrob just like that. You knew his kind (frat, attractive boy) and well, his group of friends had a certain reputation on campus. You weren't particularly interested in getting involved in their games like Minju, who had her sights set on Jungwon and apparently it was working well, without any illegal love potion included. You hoped. 

“Hey,” he said easily. “You’re in Professor Park class, right?”

You looked at him and then at the empty halls.

“I am,” you replied flatly.

He chuckled, unbothered by your tone. “Cool, cool. Listen— quick favor. I’ve been kinda… busy lately,’’ Jay made a vague gesture that probably meant parties, games, existing attractively, fucking around, more parties. “Missed a few lectures. You take good notes, right?”

You felt a strange sensation in your chest, like a tickling inside. Your eye twitched a little, too early to deal with whatever that was. ‘’My notes are good, yes,’’ you said.

“Perfect,” Jay said enthusiastically, as if you had come up with the idea and not him. “Think you could send them to me? Or maybe help me catch up sometime? Maybe you could tutor me from time to time.”

You inhaled slowly, ready to say that you hadn't been taking notes lately, or that maybe he wouldn't understand your handwriting, that you didn’t have the time to tutor someone or even just a clear yes so he would leave you alone.

None of that came out of your mouth. 

‘’No,’’ you said instead. Your eyes widened, realizing you couldn't have lied. It wasn't what you meant to say, it was just automatically spat it out.

Jay blinked at you. ‘’Oh. Okay.’’

‘’You should be more responsible, Jay,’’ you said, the words spilling out before you could stop it or control it. ‘’This isn't such a difficult class. If you came regularly, you'd definitely do better and be able to keep up instead of relying on people who actually are responsible, instead of being so unprepared, you know.’’

An awkward, confusing silence fell between you, and you quickly covered your mouth, wishing the floor would swallow you whole. If that wasn't guaranteed social death... some passing girls turned their heads, intrigued by the exchange. 

Jay continued to stare at you for a few seconds and then let out a small laugh, more surprised than angry. ‘’Wow,’’ he said. ‘’Okay. Fair. Harsh, but fair,’’ he chuckled. ‘’I get it.’’

You shrugged mortified and helpless and bit your tongue hard, trying to hold back the words, but the spell was stronger. ‘’Also, I’m not interested in tutoring someone who prioritizes parties over academic responsibility. You'll just waste my time.’’

Jesus Christ.

Jay raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘’Damn. Alright. Message received.’’

He stopped in the hallway, still smiling, but there was something more thoughtful in his expression, his gaze lingering on you, as if he had miscalculated what he expected from you. Jay was placing you in some drawer of his mind with a new label.

‘’I didn’t know you thought like that,’’ he added. ‘’You don’t take shit from anyone, do you? I respect that.’’

Before you could make things worse by replying, thankfully Jay just gave you one of his boyish smiles and walked away. As you watched him go, your heart calmed and you sank into the nearest wall. Well, that turned out just fine. So much for walking on the edge of the spell, huh?

Not very far, someone was watching you and Jay intently, observing the entire conversation without moving with a growing interest. 

Fortunately, you didn't scare away anyone else for the rest of the morning with your big mouth. Perhaps honesty wasn't as simple as you thought if it wasn't filtered, you could only hope that no one else asked you something as direct as Jay did. The spell definitely was out of control. So that was a damn problem. Not only could you not stay quiet, but your tongue was moving uncontrollably with thoughts that hadn't even formed yet. It was as if the truth was being ripped from your soul before your brain was even aware of it.

Minju was halfway through describing chicken’s politics when she realized you weren’t really paying attention to her. Your brows were furrowed, your mind racing, analyzing the damned spell. It was both strong and subtle, binding your tongue to the truth in a way that made it impossible to shut your damn mouth once you started speaking. There had to be some way to stop it. Of course, you weren't crazy enough to cast a counter-spell and actually end up in the Witches’ Council basement. But the chances of getting through the month without any trouble weren't looking so high anymore.

“I swear,” Minju said, poking at her salad, “at first they screamed every time they saw me, but now they only scream a little. And one of them lets me hold her for, like, five seconds. Her name is Buttercup. I don’t know why I was scared of them, they’re kinda cute. It’s not so bad.’’

‘’That’s good,’’ you murmured, barely nodding, eyes unfocused. ‘’Chickens are nice.’’

‘’It really is,’’ Minju agreed proudly. ‘’Also, I don’t scream as much anymore either. I think we’re warming up to each other, you know?’’

You hummed softly, taking a sip of your soda. ‘’It's great that you're building a relationship with your chickens. Bonding is important.’’

Of course Minju noticed your thoughtful and cloudy mood and stroked your shoulder with a frown. She also noticed the faint whisper of magic. ‘’How was your day? Is it the spell? Is your soda not fizzy enou— oh my God. Oh. My. God— okay, don’t look.’’

‘’What?’’ You asked, blinking out of your haze and looking all around. ‘’What’s going on?’’

‘’I said don’t look! Listen carefully,’’ she whispered urgently, going back to her salad and keeping her eyes down. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. ‘’Niki is looking at you.’’

You frowned at her, not quite understanding the urgency of the situation, but you assumed Minju would have some reason. You snorted, keeping your eyes down anyway and trying not to laugh. ‘’Okay, I won’t. So?’’

Minju looked at you in the most offended way possible, pointing her fork at you, eyes full of incredulity. ‘’You must be kidding. Seriously? Niki? Basketball player, very cute, very tall, friend of Jungwon.’’

A face flashed into your mind and you nodded, remembering him too well. The boy with the perpetual look of disinterest. ‘’I wouldn't call him cute but okay. What about it?’’

Your best friend is practically vibrating with happiness. ‘’What do you mean, what about it? He’s looking at you! This is so good! This mean we could have a double date!’’

‘’Okay,’’ you murmured under your breath, ‘’I don’t wanna know how that occurred to you. Besides, I don't think he's looking at me for that reason. He’s probably planning my social death right now. Don’t mind him, Min.’’

Minju fell from his cloud of excitement. ‘’What? Why? Why would he?’’

‘’I refused to help Jay this morning; the stupid spell made me say a bunch of crap. Basically that he was a party animal with little interest in academics and something about not wasting my time in him.’’

Minju made a face, measuring the damage in her head. The bond between the boys was no joke. Jungwon, Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Niki were like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse if they were five of them and in a frat— incredibly attractive, magnetic, with the kind of presence that simply drew attention. Whether it was their looks, their grades, the trophies they won with the basketball team, the gossip or their fraternity parties, someone was always talking about them. Loyal as hell, crossing one of them meant crossing the whole group of friends. And it wasn't a good idea to do that with the guys who basically controlled the narrative on campus.

Minju tried to smile again. ‘’Oh. Uhm, it doesn't sound very polite but he doesn't look murderous to me. He looks… in love,’’ she sighed cutely. 

You looked at her, not entirely convinced and then subtly moved your head, until your eyes did find Riki Nishimura not far away, staring at you as if he could burn you with his mind. Or trying to.

He looked murderous. 

Or maybe that was his everyday face. To you, he looked as always, as if he were bored and at the same time thinking about how he could start some chaos and blame others for it. Niki was leaning back in his chair across the courtyard, one arm lazily slung over the backrest, long fingers slowly swirling his ice americano coffee cup in circles. His posture screamed indifference, but his eyes betrayed him completely. They were fixed on you— not in passing, not accidentally. Intentionally. Burning. There was nothing shy about it, but you guessed that someone like Niki didn't know what shyness was in the first place.

It was a little creepy how his eyes had an almost predatory gleam in broad daylight. They weren't flirtatious as such, more like... analytical. Observant. Curious. As if he'd seen something and wanted to figure out exactly how it worked before getting close. He had a sharp, intense gaze, a feline spark that felt more like a panther than a cat. You couldn't deny it, he was one of the most attractive men you had ever seen, no truth spell needed to admit that. His cheekbones alone deserved a separate analysis for sure.

Niki didn’t look away when you caught him. Instead, he held your gaze for too long as if he was challenging you to not look away. His chin tilted and a hint of mockery appeared in his dark eyes, or perhaps it was an effect of the sun, as if he was saying Yes. I am looking. Problem?

You lose on the spot because your stomach did a strange flip under his piercing stare and you looked away, refusing to let him make you blush like a schoolgirl. You turned to Minju again. ‘’Right. I mean, it could be, who knows? That guy only has one expression for everything,’’ you shrugged. 

She gasped. ‘’Of course not! He’s actually nice.’’

You arched a brow. ‘’Have you ever saw him smile?’’

‘’Maybe he’s one of those people who has a neutral face. You’re not the smiling type either,’’ she reminded you, mimicking your expression. 

‘’You’re trying to say resting bitch face,’’ you offered, taking another sip of your soda. ‘’Or maybe he's just constantly constipated.’’

It was impossible for Minju not to laugh a little at that, and the two of them shared a few giggles that quickly died away when a shadow appeared over the two of you. 

‘’What’s so funny?’’ 

A deep, definitely masculine voice sounded behind you. Minju jolted, eyes wide, while you turned far too slowly in your seat— straight into Niki standing there like he belonged in your space. Relaxed. Unbothered. Looking down at you from his full height, and fuck he was actually tall. Jungwon was at his side, smiling like it was a completely normal social interaction and not a potential social nightmare to you. You bit your tongue in advance. 

Before anyone could speak, Jungwon's gaze flicked to Minju and he gently reached out, removing something of her shiny hair with a hint of hesitation, as if reality were playing a trick on him. It was a white feather. 

Minju froze as Jungwon studied her and then the feather held in his fingers, his lips trembling as if he wanted to laugh but he was a little confused anyway. 

‘’What’s this?’’ He asked her, amused.

You and Minju looked at each other speechlessly as the silence stretched long enough into awkwardness, not knowing what to say or how to explain. But of course, the spell didn't hesitate.

‘’It is from one of the chickens Minju is currently responsible for caring as a disciplinary punishment from the Witches' Council,’’ you quickly said.

Minju let out a strangled noise, horrified at your outburst. A second later you realized what you said and covered your mouth, frowning and looking panicked at Minju, shaking your head in a way best friends communicate meaning help me the fuck out.

Jungwon blinked between you both. ‘’Oh.’’

Niki’s eyebrows lifted slightly. ‘’Is that so?’’

‘’Yes,’’ you continued helplessly, ‘’Minju was actually telling me how her relationship with them is progressing and she's not so afraid of them anymore.’’

Minju buried her face in her hands and took a calming deep breath instead of screaming before looking at Jungwon, trying to smile and pretend that everything was normal. 

‘’She’s right! I got some new pets,’’ she laughed with forced enthusiasm. ‘’Three chickens!’’

“That explains the feather,” Jungwon said, nodding solemnly as if this makes perfect sense. He placed it on the table. “Chickens are cute. Good luck with… that.”

‘’Thank you,’’ she mumbled, smiling too wide. 

You wished with all your heart that no one else would speak to you, that perhaps the boys would just keep walking and think you were a couple of weird girls. But fate couldn't be that kind to you. Instead, Niki's attention never left you, searching for your eyes even while you were picking up your things, ready to bolt. You weren’t about to spill all your secrets and actually earn a worse punishment. 

‘’Where are you going? Class?’’

You froze, feeling the spell regain its power and refusing to let you lie. ‘’I do not have class right now,’’ you explained, defeated.

Niki let out a quiet laugh, eyes gleaming. “Ah. Then why are you leaving?”

‘’I really don't want to continue this conversation in case I say something terrible or incriminating,’’ you admitted and made a face, grabbing your purse ready to bolt from there. God, just shut up! 

Niki smiled slowly. Dangerous. Too handsome. The way something malignant finds out a new soul to torment. “Relax,” he taunted you. “We’re just talking. Do I make you so nervous that you want to run away?’’

You stood up abruptly, almost colliding with him. ‘’Yes. That is precisely the issue.’’

Niki stepped aside without argument, gesturing with exaggerated courtesy. “After you, princess.”

With what little dignity you had left and afraid of revealing some witch secret that would end with you being burned at the town bonfire (or having to move to another town), you left almost running. Niki's eyes watched as you disappeared among students coming and going, a slight smile raising the corners of his mouth. 

Minju, bless her soul, tried to fill the heavy silence in your favor. ‘’Uh… she’s been pretty tired these days, you know, exams and stuff. She's usually more... quiet. But she’s super nice!’’

Jungwon nodded buying the explanation but Niki simply saw the bottle of soda you left; it was his favorite flavor. ‘’Is she?’’

The last thing you expected when you entered your home was a very, very angry owl staring at you from the stairs. You groaned under your breath as you approached, knowing you were about to get the scolding of a lifetime. You forced a smile onto your face and circled the scowling bird, slowly beginning to climb the stairs under her stare. 

‘’Oh, Soomin, hi! You’re back already? How was your vacation? God, how the time flies. Anyway, I have so much work to do so—’’

‘’Don’t,’’ she warned, staring at you with huge, unblinking eyes. You gulped. ‘’Don’t even think to leave this conversation.’’

‘’But Soomin—’’

The owl hissed at you, feathers puffing. ‘’How is it possible that I'm only gone for a week and you've been punished with a spell?! And I'm only finding out about this today?’’

You froze mid-step and slowly turned to face her. Her small, feathered face was somehow the same one your mother used when you broke something expensive as a child. Pure maternal disappointment that could be read as: how have I ever had to put up with you.

‘’A week,’’ she repeated, flipping her wings in stress, ‘’just a week! I left you here trusting you’re a functional adult now and you got yourself in a trial and a punishment?!’’

‘’It wasn’t kinda an official trial—’’ 

‘’Of course it was official! There was a jury! The president and— I think I’m about to faint,’’ the owl wheezed, wobbling a little enough to worry you.

You quickly approached the bird trying to hold it, but as soon as you got close, Soomin began hitting you with its wing while hissing with renewed strength.

You yelped, cornered to the wall. ‘’Ow! Stop!’’

‘’You lied to the Council! You didn’t call me!’’ She growled, flapping at you with tiny, furious little hits. ‘’You lied in front of the entire Witches’ Council! Do you have any idea of how serious this is?’’

‘’Soomin, please, you’re being so dramatic,’’ you said, running a few steps up. ‘’It wasn't that deep! It's just for one lunar cycle.’’ 

The owl tilted its head and, of course, followed you, still giving you short, scandalized taps with its wings that weren't painful but ridiculously humiliating. You wondered how many people in the world could be scolded by a bird.

‘’Just a lunar cycle? This is a disaster,’’ Soomin continued, pacing back and forth on the stairs like a furious professor or a stressed lawyer. Probably both. ‘’A complete catastrophe. One week. I leave for one week and you ruin your life. You’re gonna tell me exactly what happened and oh, look at that, you can’t lie to me,’’ she mocked you. ‘’Because you’re cursed!’’

You scoffed and lifted your hands up in a calming gesture, staring down at her tiny form. ‘’Listen. It was just... a very confusing chain of events that somehow ended with me under a spell. I clearly didn’t expect that. How could I have known that was going to happen?’’

‘’Why did you lie in the first place while being interrogated?’’

You hesitated for a second, enough to make Soomin narrow her eyes. ‘’Oh, no. No, no, no, no. That face means it was a stupid reason.’’

You sighed, leaning against the wall, the spell working too well. ‘’I was trying to cover up for Minju. She got drunk and egged the histori—’’ you noticed how Soomin’s feathers started puffing again and you made a face, taking a step up. ‘’Historical house— she went to a party and I told the jury she was with me the entire night.’’

Soomin narrowed her eyes. If owls could facepalm… ‘’So it was a stupid reason.’’ 

You rubbed your temples. ‘’Hey, I’m actually struggling here. Today was my first day and already made some fucks ups,’’ you groaned, covering your face. ‘’I don’t think I’m surviving three full weeks. This is hard!’’

‘’You’ll find the way to do it because it’s what you deserve,’’ Soomin scolded you. ‘’That’s what you get for lying.’’

‘’It was just a small lie! All of this is so dramatic! You have any idea what this means to my social life?’’

‘’You don’t have one,’’ the owl responded, blinking at you. 

‘’That’s not the point,’’ you replied, crossing your arms defensively with a frown. ‘’Now I definitely won’t.’’

Soomin perched on the railing and gave you another motherly look of pure disappointment. ‘’From now on, you won’t be unsupervised anymore,’’ she said firmly. ‘’I’m not leaving you for extended periods of time ever again.’’

You pouted and leaned your head on the wall. ‘’A month,’’ you muttered in pure misery and sadness. ‘’Twenty nine days to go.’’

Soomin shook her head. ‘’Unbelievable,’’ she scoffed. ‘’I raise you for years and this is what happens the moment I take a break.’’

You blinked. ‘’You’re appeared like three years ago, you didn’t raise me.’’

‘’Emotionally, I did.’’

You and Minju looked incredible. There was no other way to describe it, to be honest and full objective. Shorts that showed off your legs, zip-up jackets that clung to all the right places and accentuated your waist, your hair in a high ponytail that could have been in a sports-themed fashion editorial. 

You had both made a deal, before the whole punishment mess happened, that both would enter their athletic era; meaning no more sedentary life and naps. It was time to get healthier, enjoy the nice weather and all that shit that was supposed to be good to your body.

You were dying. 

Literally. Lungs gone. 

You didn't know when you thought it was a good idea to suggest to Minju that you both take an open hockey class as a form of exercise, but it was definitely you trusting too much that your back would hold up. And your knees. And practically your entire body. It wasn’t the case. Who knew running while holding a stick could be so difficult? 

By the end of the class you had moved parts of your body that you weren't sure you could coordinate at the same time in the first place, bent over your knees and gasping for air. Sweat trickled down your back as if you'd run a marathon from continent to continent, not just an hour-long class. Minju wasn't in the best shape either, dragging her hockey stick towards the benches while groaning, like she was leaving a battlefield. 

‘’I think I saw angels,’’ Minju panted beside you, ‘’when they made us sprint the second time.’’

‘’I saw God,’’ you wheezed. ‘’She suggest me to sit down.’’ 

On the other side of the field, the men's team was finishing their practice too. From afar you could hear their shouts, grunts, and jeers. These classes were supposed to be the Student Council's idea to provide free, open sports spaces for everyone, but the men definitely treated it like the National Championship. Fast, competitive, sticks and shoulders clashing. You recognized some of the guys and wondered who in their right mind would do two different sports in the same week and survive. Apparently, Niki was one of them.

The way he moved was ruthless, efficient, controlled. You couldn't help but watch him from afar while you drank water because, well, why not? A girl could enjoy the view. His hair was slightly damp, pushed back from his forehead. His t-shirt clung a little to his torso, and it was impossible not to notice the trace of his abs and the muscle in his arms. His body moved with force and speed. And although he seemed incredibly focused, his eyes still occasionally wandered. Towards you. Searching.

Again. Again. One more time, until Jungwon noticed and it made him snort with a knowing smile. 

After practice, while your lungs were slowly coming back to life and Minju was showing you videos of her chickens, on the other side of the field a group of boys were making a straight line towards you. It was too late to run when you looked up and Jungwon was approaching with an easy smile, Jay by his side and Niki just a step behind, hands in their pockets and a serious expression.

‘’Hey,’’ Jungwon greeted warmly, eyes drifting to Minju. ‘’How’d it go?’’

‘’We survived,’’ she smiled at him, proud. ‘’Barely. But it was fun. I can’t still feel my legs.’’

Jay arched a brow, chucking. ‘’That intense?’’

‘’You have no idea,’’ you whispered to no one, positioning yourself behind Minju as naturally as possible while you put away your water bottle and grabbed your bag. So, a new game plan was set. If no one specifically spoke to you, you couldn't say anything catastrophic, right? 

All you needed to do was make yourself a little invisible.

For a moment you thought you were actually succeeding. Jungwon was clearly only interested in Minju, with whom he was animatedly discussing hockey (or so you thought, because you had no idea about the terminology they were using). That was the moment: back away slowly, as if you'd decided in the moment and hadn't overanalyzed it for several minutes. Slowly, imperceptibly, so no one would smell your fear. Just a few steps toward freedom, just a bye under your shoulder and no one would get hurt. 

Jay noticed right away, calling your name.

‘’Hey,’’ he said casually, glancing at you and your outfit, taking in your legs. ‘’You look good today.’’ 

You froze. Oh no. No. Please, no. The spell didn’t wasted a fucking second. 

‘’I know,’’ you said confidently. ‘’These shorts gave me an incredible ass.’’ 

Silence. Minju choked, eyes huge. Jungwon’s brows shoot up. Jay bursted out laughing, full delight, not at all bothered. 

‘’You’re so sincere,’’ he said with a grin. ‘’Confidence. I like that.’’

Niki didn't laugh or say anything. He was simply watching you, studying the way you spoke without hesitation and the subsequent panic that followed, as if you had no filter.

Jay playfully nudged Niki with his elbow and kept the conversation going. ‘’You guys watched us play?’’

You prayed that no one else would say anything to you directly, taking another step back. 

Of course, Niki’s voice interrupted your attempts. He looked straight at you. Calm, low, direct. ‘’Did you?’’

You swallowed, as if that could stop the truth from rising like bile up your throat. ‘’Uh, y-yes.’’

‘’And?’’

“You looked very attractive,” you admitted helplessly, eyes flicking to him for half a second before staring at the grass, accepting your destiny. “With your hair all sweaty and pushed back.”

Minju made a tiny distress sound, Jungwon tried to look neutral watching the exchange and failed, and Jay grinned knowing he found free entertainment and material to taunt his maknae. But Niki didn't mock you, or smiled, nor did he seem embarrassed or smug. He tilted his head and continued looking at you with heavy, but not cold, eyes. Just… attentive. Listening. Like he never heard that sort of answer before. 

‘’Did I?’’ He asked, mildly. 

‘’Yes,’’ you said immediately, planning your own death. ‘’It was distracting.’’ 

Jay looked at Niki, considering your words. He was enjoying it too much. ‘’Distracting, huh?’’

Niki ignored him and moved a little closer to you, just enough to make the air shift. ‘’Then maybe,’’ he said quietly, eyes steady on you, ‘’you should stop watching.’’

‘’I would, but you’re hard to ignore,’’ you murmured automatically, slamming your eyes shut. ‘’Okay. I’m leaving now.’’

‘’We need water!’’ Minju intervened, taking your arm and leading you away with an apologetic smile. ‘’Bye, guys!’’

Jungwon was smiling and waving, Jay was saying something about Niki's sweaty hair being gross and Niki... his eyes followed you the whole way. Smiling a little.

Already deciding. 

Avoidance is power, you told yourself. 

Clearly you couldn't control the spell. Okay. Nor could you control who spoke to you. Obviously. But you could control the exposure. Limited interactions, minimal risks, avoid potential red flags that could lead to humiliation. You were going to finally walk the line of the spell or die trying.

It didn't matter that Minju was officially dating Jungwon and that somehow included his friends who orbited him and, due to their proximity, your best friend, like damn satellites. You wouldn't be rude. Just... brief and efficient. Simply as that. In the middle of a night where you were staring at the ceiling wondering how you ended up in this problem while you were in a chocolate ice cream coma, that's when it occurred to you.

You couldn't lie, but you could control how you told the truth. You wouldn't be lying per se... you'd simply be revealing the answers in long, technical sentences. Careful words, a controlled tone, crafted and directed honesty. That wasn't lying. You were simply adapting to the rules of the game. Expanding your vocabulary. Making things complicated wasn't lying. The spell didn't imply that people had to understand you.

In the dating world, some friends canceled plans because of their boyfriends. Minju did it for her chickens. She bailed on hockey practice before it even started when her security app sent a notification.

“One of the girls laid an egg and she looks emotionally overwhelmed,” she had said seriously, already packing her bag. “I need to supervise.”

‘’She’s just a chicken,’’ you stared at her. 

‘’She’s sensitive.’’ 

That's how you ended up alone, suffering, exhausted but not as dramatically as last time. Or maybe you just didn't have anyone to complain to. Either way, once practice was over, you actually enjoyed it a little. Other girls were stretching and chatting, laughing and drinking water, while you sat on the benches. You breathed a sigh of relief when you took down your ponytail and let your hair fall, enjoying the fresh air.

Perhaps doing outdoor sports wasn't so bad, you supposed. The sunset and the breeze caressed your damp skin, and for a second you relaxed, enjoying the silence. You tilted your head slightly toward the sky, toward the last rays of the sun, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. You even smiled a little, not ruining your social interactions for a whole day felt like a huge victory.

You weren’t aware of it, but at the other side of the field the boy’s team were finishing warm-up drills. Niki’s focus shifted, as he had done all week, to you. Finally alone. Illuminated by a halo of sunlight, looking so pretty and relaxed, not like the times he had approached you and you looked ready to flee.

By the time you sensed someone’s presence it was too late, opening your eyes to Niki standing close enough that you had to tilt your chin up slightly to meet his gaze. You got startled with a small yelp and your heart rate went crazy while Niki was completely and clearly unashamed of staring at you like that in the open. 

He broke the silence first. ‘’Minju abandoned you?’’

You were ready for this. You cleared your throat and sat straighter. ‘’She had a chicken-related emergency.’’

Niki blinked once, nodding like that made all the sense in the world. ‘’I thought you were avoiding us,’’ he said plainly. ‘’Avoiding me.’’

You inhaled, choosing the words carefully in your head. ‘’I’m being selective with my interactions at this particular moment.’’ 

His mouth twitched slightly. ‘’Selective? And I didn't make the cut?’’

Panic spread across your brain, that was dangerous territory! 

‘’I'm trying to minimize situations where I have to interact verbally because… because I'm avoiding saying things that can amplify the exposure of my personal, reserved thoughts and put me in complicated circumstances.’’ 

Niki’s eyes sharpened. ‘’So I complicate your life?’’

This fucker. You froze for a second, feeling the spell around your tongue, ready to pounce head first into the truth. ‘’I believe you increase the odds a little,’’ you admitted, maintaining your calm tone. 

He took a step closer, his knees almost touching you. ‘’And why is that?’’

Because I can't decipher the way you look at me.

Because you don't react like everyone else.

You didn’t say any of it. ‘’You ask direct questions,’’ you said instead, finding the right words. ‘’And I struggle with filtering in those interactions.’’

His eyes fell on the curve of your shoulders, the way your hair waved in the breeze, your cheeks a little pink from exercise. ‘’You look better like this,’’ Niki said casually. 

You frowned. ‘’Like what?’’

‘’Less guarded.’’

Your brain short-circuited, and thankfully, not even a powerful witch's spell could fix that. But before you could die crushed by Niki's dark eyes, he was the first to look away towards the other side of the field, where his team resumed training.

‘’We’re not done,’’ he started, and you suspected he wasn’t just talking about hockey. ‘’Stay.’’ 

You blinked. ‘’Stay? Why?’’

He gestured subtly with his head towards the bleachers and you followed his line of sight. Oh. A few girls were there, watching the boy’s practice. Some talking, others taking photos. Waiting for boyfriends. Watching situationships or prospects. 

You looked at Niki again, not fully understanding the situation. Actually, more in denial. The implication was too obvious to ignore, but it still confused you a little. Why the hell Riki Nishimura wanted you there of all people?

‘’You can sit there,’’ he said, like it was the most normal outcome. ‘’Watch.’’

You kept staring at him, blinking slowly. ‘’You’re recruiting spectators, Nishimura?’’

His mouth twitched again, trying not to crack a smile. ‘’I’m inviting you.’’ 

Your stomach lurched catastrophically. ‘’You want me… to sit there and openly watch you?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’No.’’

He didn't react badly to your refusal, he simply studied you. ‘’Why not?’’

You swallowed and searched your brain for an answer that made sense. ‘’Because that could create some assumptions.’’ 

He tilted his head, a spark of mischief in his eyes. ‘’What kind of assumptions?’’

You narrowed your eyes a little, knowing that now he was playing with you. He knew what kind of assumptions, the cocky bastard.  

‘’I would prefer not to fuel potential situations that could lead to rumors that are not substantiated… based on our interactions. Misinterpretations could arise.’’

He searched your eyes while lowering his voice a little. ‘’What if I want them substantiated?”

Fuck this frat boy. You let out a loud sigh and thought about your next move. There was no chance you would let Niki throw you into the stands full of girlfriends, when the possibility of the spell going out of control due to the pressure and the crowd was so high. You were barely taking baby steps into the edge of the spell, not doing fucking somersaults on it.

So you took the next best route: evade. ‘’You’re very confident,’’ you managed to say, trying to smile. 

‘’Yes.’’

‘’That's very... threatening to my… filtering,’’ you groaned, feeling the spell tightening. 

He kept his eyes on you, pleased by it. ‘’Then stay,’’ he muttered, almost soft. ‘’Face the danger.’’ 

‘’That’d end with me saying something incriminating,” you warned him with a sigh. 

“I’m counting on it.”

Alright.

You stood abruptly, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “This is exactly the kind of scenario I am strategically eliminating.”

He didn’t move out of your space immediately. “You’re running again.”

“I am exercising discernment.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Same thing.”

You looked at him once more, trying to appear composed and with a serene face, even though your heart was beating strangely inside your chest. ‘’I'm not equipped to deal with you right now. Bye.’’

That made him stop for a second. And then: ‘’Good.’’

‘’What? Why’s that’s good?’’ 

‘’Because when you are, I'll be here. I want to see it.’’

Niki walked back onto the playing field, leaving you behind as if he hadn't desestabilized your nervous system.

From that day on, things got progressively worse, little by little, as if the loose ends were starting to tie themselves up. And by loose ends, you meant Niki's friends. The strangest part was the stares you got from other girls. Some were curious and interested, others hateful. The campus had eyes everywhere, that was obvious to anyone. The five horsemen and their lost bachelorhood were the talk of the town. First Jungwon, then Jake, who would be next?

The initial plan to avoid social interactions wasn't working too well. Maybe it was because you were just one soldier, and well, Niki's army was bigger, not to mention the whole campus. Little things started happening. Like Jay sitting next to you in class, much to your alarm, and you even considered pretending not to know him. But if there was one thing impossible in the world, it was getting Jay to shut up. He talked about everything. Your head was completely empty by the time he launched into his anecdote about the basketball team's mascot falling into the pool last week. 

The party invitations came in a more personal way. It wasn't like fraternity parties required it, but maybe it was something about the social hierarchy you weren’t aware of…? You had no idea and weren’t about to ask Minju about it. You assumed people just showed up, like you had done a few times before. But then Lee Heeseung basically blocked the library entry and asked you (more or less threatening you) if you would like to come to one of their parties. It took you too much by surprise to put together a coherent sentence, so you basically scuttled out the side with a yelp and a hurried ‘’no!’’. 

That’s how you ended like this. Looking insane. 

A scarf wrapped around your head as if you were a Hollywood actress from the 40s hiding from the paparazzi (you weren't), oversized black glasses that definitely weren't your style and didn't serve much purpose on a cloudy day, shoulders hunched as you slid along the edges of buildings like a cartoon thief, trying to blend into the shadows. Head down, quick steps, incognito mode activated.

The problem was that the Silverveil’s campus was a curse in itself, starting with its architecture: lots of open spaces, glass walls, and lots of people who liked to talk. And of course, him.

Nishimura Riki.

You had acquired a new knack for finding Niki in a crowd, though it wasn't too difficult. Tall, existing effortlessly, hands in his pockets with a semi-bored expression. You saw him at the other end of the courtyard, laughing at something Jake said, his laugh short and sharp, and just that sound made your stomach clench. 

Abort. Abort. Abort.

You spun around instantly, nearly colliding with a group of students, muttering a quick apology before making a beeline run towards the nearest column. You leaned your back against it and took a breath, waiting a few seconds before poking your head out and inspecting the area.

No five horsemen of the apocalypse. No teachers. No curious girls asking if you can introduce them to Jay or Heeseung— or asking if it's true they're in a polyamorous relationship. No hockey coach asking why you didn't go to the last class and you not answering that you'd rather sleep for ten hours than drag your ass through that torture again. 

Good.

You adjusted your scarf, lowered your glasses further, and leaned again— only to freeze. Niki was definitely close. Too close. So close you could see the lazy way he walked, unhurried, making his way along without even asking, as if he weren't chasing after anything. As if he knew exactly where he was going.

You pulled back fast, heart slamming against your ribs. Shit. 

‘’Who are you spying on?’’

His voice came from behind you, low and amused, close enough that you felt it more than hear it. Slowly, too slowly, you turned around and there he was, devastating so. Niki’s eyes scanned you from head to toe, taking in the handkerchief, the glasses, and your expression somewhere between guilt and panic, as if you were assessing your chances of running away.

For a second he just looked at you, until one corner of his mouth lifted. 

‘’No one in particular. I’m just… examining the perimeter and human elements near me.’’

Niki arched a brow, somewhat amused and slightly judgmental. ‘’Is this a disguise or a styling choice?’’

Panic surged through your mind, flooding your entire brain, barely remembering the plan and survival mode before the spell revived. ‘’I’m avoiding being recognized to prevent unnecessary social interactions that could result in irreversible harm to me.’’

Niki let out a short laugh, surprised and real, eyes bright with something dangerously close to interest. “Wow,” he said. “That’s… specific.’’

You squeezed your eyes shut for half a second, heart trembling. “I would appreciate it if you did not interpret my current behavior as an invitation for conversation.”

“And yet,” he replied lightly, stepping closer instead of away, “you’re still talking to me. You are hard to go unnoticed, too.”

You swallowed. “This is an unfortunate consequence of your proximity.”

He studied you like you were a puzzle he didn’t know how he wanted to solve, which piece picked up first, gaze lingering just a beat too long. “You know,” he started, voice dropping a little, “I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

Your heart stuttered. “Did you? That information is… distressing.”

Niki smiled fully now, slow and unreadable. “Good,” he responded. 

And suddenly, hiding felt impossible and dumb. You were pressed against the column when Niki moved closer, cornering you enough so that you couldn't leave without brushing against his body. Niki lifted a hand, slow enough that you saw it coming but not slow enough to stop it. His fingers brushed your cheek for half a second before hooking under the arm of your sunglasses.

‘’Hey!—’’

He slid them off your face with infuriating ease. The world suddenly felt too bright. Too exposed. His gaze settled on your eyes immediately, intent and unreadable, like he was cataloguing something important. Up close, you noticed details you really shouldn’t be noticing: the curve of his lashes, the way his expression softened when you weren’t hiding behind dark lenses, a faded scar on one of his eyebrows. The smell of his cologne. 

“Hm,” he hummed, studying you. “So that’s what you were hiding.”

You stopped yourself, jaw tightening. “…That statement is inaccurate since you don’t know my intentions and motives.”

Without breaking eye contact, Niki casually slipped the sunglasses onto his own face. They looked ridiculous on him. He also looked unfairly good as well. 

‘’There’s a party tonight,’’ he said, like it was the most normal conversation he ever had. ‘’Our frat. You coming?’’

There’s no way in hell I’m going, you thought. Instead, you said: ‘’Attending an event of that magnitude is not in my immediate plans.’’

He stepped back, finally giving you air. “That’s a shame,’’ he smirked, then tilted his head, lowering his voice just enough to feel intimate. “If you want these back,” he added, tapping the edge of the sunglasses, “you should come.”

You opened your mouth to renegotiate the deal or tell him it was ridiculous, but Niki turned around and left without looking back, just like that. Hands in his pockets, wearing YOUR big glasses, carefree, as if he hadn't left you there with the words on your lips and your heart racing, or with people nearby pretending not to have seen everything.

By the end of the day, it was everywhere.

People saw Niki. 

People definitely saw the sunglasses. 

People definitely saw Nishimura Riki wearing your sunglasses like they were his in the first place and didn't steal it from you in plain sight. The bastard had the audacity to actually wear them throughout the day, even with his friends, completely unbothered by the small chaos he caused. 

You even heard some whispers throughout the day that made you stare at nothing while some people gossiped about your life in real time. You sat in class, notebook opened, half-hearing your professor, doing doodles and making an effort to write something even if you barely care. That’s when you heard the whispers. 

‘’...Is that her?

‘’Mmmh. I think so.’’

‘’Ya, she’s pretty. No wonder Niki’s dating her.’’

You stopped doodling and paid more attention, your eyes were on your professor as you grip tightening around your pen. Waiting for more gossip to spill. 

‘’They look like an idols couple or something.’’

‘’My friend saw them flirting in front of everybody. Is that serious.’’

‘’Really?’’

‘’I know, right? He’s wearing her glasses. She’s friends with Jay too, I think.’’ 

By the end of the day, it was everywhere, and Minju was proof of that, because at some point during the day your best friend dragged you to the nearest cafe and interrogated you in a very similar way to the Witches' Council. With two lattes and two muffins and Minju unsuccessfully trying to contain her excitement, you sighed in defeat.

‘’Okay,’’ she started, resting her hands on the table, trying to calm down as if that would make her hear better. ‘’I’m ready. Tell me everything! What’s is going on with you and Niki?’’

You shrugged. ‘’There’s nothing going on,’’ you murmured, taking a sip of the latte. ‘’I think? I can categorize it for sure. Try be more specific.’’

Minju narrowed her eyes. ‘’Someone from my Economics class saw you and Niki earlier,’’ she paused. ‘’She said he took your glasses, like, he took them.’’

‘’That’s true. I was robbed in broad daylight and slightly criticized by my fashion choices, I think,’’ you frowned. 

Minju blinked and deflated a little. ‘’That’s not… how she described it.’’

You stared at your best friend, unimpressed. ‘’I’m literally incapable of lying, remember?’’ 

‘’So? What you’re gonna do?’’

‘’Honestly, I don’t know,’’ you sighed, massaging your temples. ‘’He told me I can get them back if I go to their party. He can keep them, I guess.’’

Minju gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. ‘’Oh my God. You’re being courted!’’

‘’More like terrorized. He stole from me!’’

‘’He’s flirting, you dumbass!’’

‘’He committed a crime,’’ you stated. 

‘’You’re brushing!’’

You groaned and covered your face with a whine. ‘’Leave me alone.’’

‘’Listen,’’ Minju said, in a softer tone. ‘’I’ve never seen Niki doing something like that, he’s very reserved. He’s always looking at you like… like he wants to eat you alive. And to be honest, you don’t look at him very differently.’’

You pressed your lips together and watched your coffee as it had the answers of the world. Somewhere on campus Niki was probably smiling to himself, that you were sure of, perfectly aware that he did exactly what he wanted. 

Stressed you out, checked.

Provoked you, checked.

Left you with an invitation you could’t stop thinking about, checked.

The worst part? You didn’t care about getting your sunglasses back.

The sky has been gray and cloudy lately, but you hardly care. It was another hockey practice and only half your body was there, your functional neurons checking out a long time ago. Physically you existed there, but your mind? That was a thing with a life of its own. Your body moved when it should, your stick hit the ball when it was your turn, even your legs seemed more coordinated than before. The reality was that your mind was deep in a daydream about the thing you wanted most: your warm bed.

You were planning it in detail, too distracted and entertained. 

Hot shower, giant pajamas, a greasy double hamburger— eating cross-legged under your blankets while something mindless played on your laptop. The beginning of your weekend. No campus. No accidental honesty. No dodging dangerously perceptive boys. Just a pause in time to exist without stress.

You jogged half-heartedly across the grass, barely registering the shouts of your teammates playing. The cloudy weather made everything feel slower, heavier. Your eyelids even drooped for a second. And then— a memory flashing too fast, your brain betraying you.

Niki. Uninvited. 

How close he stood the other day, the way he said face the danger. His low, deep voice, the way he looked at you like— no. You shook your head slightly, refusing to let yourself do that. But the images, his face, it kept flickering in your head. His smile, his smirk, his intense eyes. Him watching you like— 

‘’Watch out!’’

Too late.

A body collided with you, hard, from the side. One of the girls tripped mid run to hit the ball, and suddenly the world turned upside down without warning. Grass. The grey sky. Impact. Your head hitting the ground hard enough to make you stay still with a low groan. There were some black points in your vision and for a second everything sounded muffed, until a sharp whistle pierced the air. 

The girl approached immediately, kneeling beside you in alarm. ‘’Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn't see you— are you okay? Don’t move.’’

You blinked a few times, staring at the sky. ‘’I’m fine,’’ you mumbled, pressing your hand on your head, making sure it was still there. ‘’It’s my fault. I was… geographically misplaced.’’

She looked confused but relieved. ‘’Oh…? Okay. Don’t stand up anyway, just take your time.’’

The coach jogged over, calling your name. ‘’Are you okay?’’ 

‘’Yeah,’’ you muttered, sitting slowly. ‘’It was just grass, it’s okay. Nature softened the hit, I guess.’’

And then, a shadow fell over you, but it wasn’t your coach or a teammate. You didn’t need to look up to know, a sense in your body recognizing the presence before your mind did. But you did look anyway and you suck a breath, cursing in your mind. 

Niki dropped beside you, crouching immediately, his expression serious. Shifting into something you never saw before, sharp and alert in a way that made your stomach flip for entirely different reasons than falling into the ground. 

Before you could process what was happening or even talk, his hands found you— sliding under your head, cradling carefully like you were struck with a metal baseball bat and not softly bonked by grass.

Your brain short-circuited and you let out a startled squeak, trying to push his hands. 

‘’I’m fine!’’ you blurted, trying to push yourself up. 

His hands didn’t move, still holding your skull. ‘’Don’t,’’ Niki said gently. 

Your heart was beating too fast for someone who just wanted a nap and a burger. 

‘’I literally fell on grass,’’ you insisted, noticing more people staring. ‘’This is not a serious injury, really.’’

Niki ignored you completely and looked up at your coach. ‘’She should go to the infirmary,’’ he suggested, voice steady and persuasive. ‘’Just in case.’’ 

Your head snapped towards him, confused. ‘’Just in case of what?’’

‘’Concussion.’’

You blinked, then laughed. ‘’No way. It was a gentle meeting between my head and nature. I’m perfectly fine.’’ 

Niki looked down at you. ‘’Do you know how concussions work?’’

The spell was faster than you. ‘’More or less.’’ 

‘’More or less,’’ he repeated, a small glint of amusement in his eyes. ‘’So you don’t actually know.’’

You clenched your teeth. ‘’I’m clearly conscious. I’m not dizzy. I can form intelligent sentences.’’

‘’Barely,’’ he said under his breath.

You gasped in outrage.

Your coach softened visibly by his tone. ‘’It’s very sweet that you’re worried about your girlfriend.’’

There was a split second of silence. And then:

‘’I am not his girlfriend,’’ you yelped at the same time Niki said smoothly, ‘’Thank you. I’ll take her.’’ 

You stared at him with both betrayal and alarm. ‘’Excuse me?’’

But Niki was already moving, and before you could react or scream his arm slided under your knees, other behind your back and the ground suddenly disappeared. 

You grabbed onto him reflexively, noticing that you were quite far from the ground. ‘’What are you doing?!’’

Carrying you apparently cost him zero effort, holding you like it was nothing. A small part of your brain noticed his arms flexing and his hard chest, but you pushed those thoughts down. 

‘’You might faint,’’ he replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘’I’m not taking risks.’’

You covered your face while Niki carried you bridal-style out of the field, leaving behind teammates whispering, gasping, other laughing, definitely rumours taking a new shape. You swore you saw Jay snapping a pic, but for your mental health you told yourself that was a hallucination induced by mortification.

You squirmed in his arms, refusing to give up. ‘’Right, I will faint from humiliation!’’

‘’You’re so dramatic,’’ he chuckled. ‘’Just stay still.’’

‘’This is completely unnecessary,’’ you hissed, kicking the air. ‘’I can walk. Put me down!’’

‘’No. Stop overreacting.’’

You gasped in pure incredulity at his nerve. ‘’Me? I’m the one overreacting? You engineered this!’’ 

He glanced down, amused. ‘’How? You were the one so distracted in the middle of a game that you hit your head. What were you thinking of, anyway?’’

The spell enveloped your tongue. ‘’I was thinking about my plans for tonight when I fell. On. Grass.’’

‘’You. Hit. Your. Head.’’

‘’On grass,’’ you groaned, resuming your kicks in the air. ‘’It’s not serious!’’

‘’You don’t know how hard you hit yourself,’’ Niki tried to reason with you. He adjusted his grip on you, too comfortable to care about your protests. 

‘’I do? I was literally there?’’

‘’So was I. Saw the whole thing.’’

‘’Put me down, Nishimura.’’ 

‘’No.’’

‘’I don’t particularly enjoy being paraded like this. People are looking!’’

‘’You’re being cared for.’’

‘’Against my wishes!’’

His expression, despite the teasing and the smirk, is sharp. Watchul. With something deeper, until you realize what it was. Protective. You hated the way your pulse reacted to it, and at some point along the way you relaxed enough to rest your cheek against his chest. You were giving him the silent treatment anyway, all pouty and clinging to what little dignity you had left.

The infirmary smelled like lemon scented cleaner. It was bright and quiet, a small place with a desk and a few simple beds to lay. Niki set you down on one of them, his hands lingering on your body enough for your heart to do a backflip before he stepped back in a very professional way and not suspicious at all. 

‘’Sit,’’ he said, unnecessary. You did. 

The nurse came up with a clipboard under her arm, looking between you and Niki. ‘’What happened?’’

Before you could open your mouth, Niki started speaking. ‘’She fell, hit her head hard. Black spots, disorientation. She tried to stand up immediately,’’ he accused you. 

Your eyes widened. ‘’That’s not—’’

‘’I feared she might have a concussion,’’ Niki continued, crossing his arms and looking at you like you were a very bad behaving kid, ‘’she insisted she was fine and that’s a sign that someone is not fine.’’

You stared at him in disbelief. ‘’I fell on grass.’’

‘’She collapsed after the hit,’’ Niki told the nurse. 

The nurse hummed, clearly entertained and nodding to the story, writing something on the clipboard. ‘’Mmm-mm, I see. And you carried her all the way here?’’

‘’Yes,’’ Niki replied like it was the most obvious thing to do. ‘’For her safety. She needs a check-up.’’

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. 

‘’Well,’’ the nurse smiled, turning to you, ‘’you seem pretty alert and you didn’t lose consciousness. Let’s have you rest here for a bit just to be safe,’’ she handed you a small box of juice from her desk. ‘’Drink this, sugar helps.’’ 

You took it obediently, giving Niki a bitter side eye.

The nurse stepped back to her desk and then paused, taking the paper from the clipboard. ‘’I’ll be back with some paperwork,’’ she sent you a knowing look. ‘’Behave, you two.’’

The door closed behind her and then silence followed. 

You snorted softly. ‘’Don’t worry,’’ you said while stabbing with too much force the straw into the juice box, ‘’we’re not having a making-out session here.’’ 

The words hit your ears a second later and you froze, remembering the fucking spell. You immediately shoved the straw in your mouth like it might save you. 

Niki tilted his head, looking at you. ‘’We won’t?’’

You choked when the juice went the wrong way and you coughed until your eyes watered. ‘’—What!?’’

Niki patted your back softly, too entertained for someone who was playing hero. ‘’You heard me. That was a question.’’

You glared at him over the juice box, cheeks burning, spell threatening you. ‘’I'm not going to do anything that doesn't involve the nurse's medical advice, Nishimura.’’ 

Niki stepped close and you felt it— his fingers brushing the hem of your shorts, idly tracing the edge like it was the most natural thing to do.

‘’I like it when you call me that,’’ he muttered in that deep voice of his.

Your suspicions and alarms went off at the same time and you gave him another warning look, moving your thigh away from his fingers.

His touch followed you, but now it was his giant palm covering your thigh and gently squeezing it. 

‘’Don't,’’ you scolded him. 

He stooped, mostly. His hand still hovered there, but didn’t move further. 

‘’You got me worried out there,’’ he said, quietly. 

You studied his face— the crease between his brows, the lack of amusement or teasing. ‘’You didn’t have to carry me all the way here,’’ you mumbled.

‘’I wanted to and I’d do it again.’’

That landed harder than it should, straighter to your chest and even lower. A pause fell but it was soft, quiet, not quite awkward. It felt more like something seeking place and settling down. 

‘’Why do you run away all the time?’’ He asked, curious, searching your eyes. 

You swallowed and put the empty juice box to the side with a sigh. Your shoulder slumped a little, tiredness waving in your voice. ‘’Sometimes I feel…’’ you explained quietly. ‘’Like… there’s something in me that doesn’t let me lie, even if I wanted to,’’ you chuckled softly. 

Niki leaned in, eyes sharpening with interest. 

‘’And I don’t know how people would take that,’’ you continued, staring at the floor. ‘’What if I said too much and I hurt somebody? Or I show too much of myself? I don’t like that exposure. I don’t have any… shield or control. So I just wanna avoid those things from happening.’’

Niki didn’t interrupt you, listening attentively. He was silent for a long moment. ‘’You want to protect yourself,’’ he explained easily, making you tense a little. ‘’I know you think running makes you invisible, but it doesn't. It just makes people look harder.’’

You looked up and glanced at Niki, noticing that his face had gotten too close to yours, his eyes focussed on your lips. But before you could respond, the infirmary door opened and the nurse came back. Niki straightened up immediately as if nothing had happened and ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, the other still resting warmly on your thigh.

You didn’t scold him again or move away. 

Growing up as a witch was a series of completely out-of-context situations thrown right in your face for you to deal with. Like the time everything inside your house floated constantly for a month before you could get that power under control. Or the time you saw a rabbit, thought it was cute, and overnight your yard was overrun with rabbits from all sizes and colors until the town newspaper reported a rabbit overpopulation in your neighborhood. You hadn't realized you were controlling their energies and, unintentionally, summoning them.

So yes, you were somewhat used to surprising situations, but you still almost had a heart attack when you opened your backpack in the middle of class and two huge, deep, yellow eyes stared back at you from the darkness inside the bag. 

You nearly screamed. But the sound somehow got muffled in your throat as you quickly zipped up your backpack and cradled it against your chest like a contained bomb. Slowly, very, very slowly, you leaned forward over your desk and opened the zipper again, enough for Soomin to hear you. 

‘’What are you doing here!?’’ You whispered.

‘’I’m doing a surprise check in,’’ the owl whispered back. Inside the backpack, Soomin shifted with the quiet rustle of feathers. ‘’Supervising.’’

You squeezed your eyes shut and slowly pulled up the zipper again. You spent the entire class sitting stiffly in your chair, your backpack resting on your lap like the most suspicious object in the world while you pretended to take notes and that everything was normal and you didn’t had a fucking talking owl with you. Every small movement from inside the bag made your spine lock up and discreetly observe your surroundings, in case anyone noticed anything.

You felt the presence of the spell like a fucking dagger waiting to pierce your heart. Your mind kept cycling through every possible disaster scenario: the owl popping her head out, someone hearing her talk, someone asking you what was inside the bag. You had never been so aware of every single person in the room. When class finally ended you were one of the firsts to get the hell out of there, relief hitting you like oxygen after drowning. 

You fled the lecture hall still holding onto your backpack. 

‘’Don’t run! I’m getting dizzy,’’ Soomin whispered from inside the bag. 

‘’You snuck there! Now enjoy the ride,’’ you hissed quietly. ‘’What are you even doing here!?’’

‘’I’m monitoring and supervising, I told you I wasn't leaving you out of my sight and you been acting weird lately.’’

You pushed through the hallway doors, scanning the corridor for a quiet corner where you could finally unzip the bag and properly scold the feathered menace inside. Unfortunately, fate had other plans, of course it did, because you walked straight into Nishimura Riki.

You stopped in your tracks.

He had one hand in the pocket of his jacket, leaning lazily against the wall like he had nowhere urgent to be. When he noticed you approaching at suspicious speed with your backpack clutched like a hostage, his brows lifted slightly. Then his gaze drifted downward and slowly pointed. You followed the direction of his fingers, to the round owl head sticking out of your backpack. 

Soomin blinked at him. You froze. Soomin froze as well. For a long moment the three of you just stared at each other in a very tense and confusing silence. Niki muttered your name, a little doubtful.

‘’... Is that an owl?’’ 

Your brain ran through every possible lie in the world that you could think of, but obviously they all ran into the magic brick wall of the spell. ‘’Uh… uh… this is an animal that can be found in the forest.’’ 

You stopped talking immediately after that. Niki stared at you, then at the owl, and again at you. He didn't seem alarmed or confused, more like he wanted to understand why you would have an owl with you in the middle of the day instead of questioning how strange it was.

‘’Right,’’ he said slowly. Niki leaned a little closer, examining the bird with curiosity. ‘’And what is it doing in your backpack?’’

The truth tightened in your throat. ‘’It just… climbed in there.’’

Silence fell again, looks were exchanged and Soomin even tilted her head, taking in the boy in front of her, examining him in the same way Niki was doing. Then, he glanced at you and let out a quiet, amused breath through his nose, like he just decided not to question the situation too deeply. Niki was late to class, anyway.  

‘’You’re kind of weird,’’ he said, the corners of his mouth twitching. He looked at the owl again. ‘’What are you going to do with an owl?’’

You tightened your hold on the backpack, feeling Soomin shifting inside. You sighed. ‘’I’m… going to have a talk with her.’’ 

Ni-ki glanced down at the owl head still poking out of the zipper. The owl stared back with wide, unrepentant eyes. He nodded slowly, like that explanation made complete sense. Then he reached out without warning and casually pinched your chin in a gesture too gentle and familiar that made your brain short-circuit for a second. 

‘’Okay. We’ll talk later, yeah?’’

You just blinked at him, eyes huge and nodded. ‘’Uh-uh. Sure.’’

‘’Good luck with your…’’ he frowned and gestured vaguely at Soomin. ‘’Your forest animal.’’ 

And with that, he pushed away from the wall and walked down the hallway, disappearing into the flow of students like the entire interaction had been perfectly normal.

You stood there for exactly two seconds. Then you spun around into a more hidden corner and put the backpack down with a groan. 

“Soomin—!”

The owl immediately hopped out of the bag. ‘’Oh my God, who was that?’’

‘’What?’’

‘’That tall, intense dude. The handsome one with dark eyes,’’ she commented conspiratorially. 

‘’You snuck into my backpack, infiltrated in the university, caused me the most stressful class of my life, and you want to talk about a boy?’’

‘’Yes. Spill.’’ 

You rubbed your face, asking for patience from above. ‘’That’s Niki.’’

The owl studied the hallway where Niki had disappeared with a thoughtful expression. ‘’He’s very attractive.’’

‘’He is,’’ you conceded.

‘’He touched you very confidently,’’ she observed. 

‘’Uh— I mean— he kinda does that—’’ 

‘’And it didn’t bother you,’’ Soomin furthered her observations, blinking slowly. ‘’Are you dating him?’’

‘’No!’’

‘’You’re secretly seeing him? This is some of prohibited romance?’’

‘’What? Of course not.’’

‘’He’s your boyfriend and didn’t tell me?’’ Soomin asked with a squeak, entertained by the gossip. 

‘’I already told you no,’’ you tried to reason with her. 

‘’... Why are you blushing?’’

‘’Because... because... it's hot and I feel strange, now shut up,’’ you groaned, picking up the bird and putting her into the backpack again like you could trap the conversation inside it. 

She gasped. ‘’You like that tall boy!’’

The spell crackled throughout your body, your mind and tongue couldn't agree on what to say, but the truth did its job. ‘’I— I— I think— yes— but—’’

‘’I like that boy too. He didn’t scream when he saw me.’’

‘’You’re a bird, not a monster.’’

‘’That’s not the point,’’ Soomin scoffed. ‘’He was very gentle with you. I approve that.’’

Soomin watched you very carefully and you felt a little nudge in the heart of your magic. Her eyes softened.

‘’Oh,’’ she said. ‘’You’re so doomed.’’

You grabbed the zipper and slammed the backpack closed.

Later that day, after you took Soomin home and she promised you there would be no more surprise inspections, the library greeted you with silence and concentration. The setting sun reached some tables, the soft sound of pens writing relaxed you somehow, and the distant hum from the air conditioner in the distance served as white noise.

You were exactly where you liked to be, seated by the window, notes spread neatly. Pretty and colorful highlighters. Life under control, for once. 

That didn’t last long. 

You were finishing a paragraph about an idea you had written when a chair scraped against the floor across from you. You didn’t look up immediately, which was a big mistake.

‘’Okay,’’ a low, masculine voice said. ‘’Serious question.’’

Your pen froze mid word and you lifted your gaze, finding Niki sitting across from you like he belonged there. Elbows resting on the table, dark eyes locked on you with immovable focus.

You stared at him, putting down your pen slowly. ‘’Oh, no,’’ you doubted, straightening up as if a bomb were about to drop on you at any second. 

‘’Would you date me?’’

You stared at him completely blanky, certain you mishearded. There was no question in his tone. No hesitation. Just calm certainty, like he had already considered the options and selected the obvious one. You blinked again and looked around you, wondering if that was in fact a daydream and not reality. Maybe you casted a spell of illusion without realizing it? 

The spell stirred to life. ‘’I don't know,’’ you finally muttered. ‘’You just can’t ask me that out of nowhere!’’

His eyes sharpened, resting his chin on his hand. ‘’I just did. Let’s date.’’

‘’Niki,’’ you sighed, sending him a warning glance when he smirked at your tone. ‘’I don’t think that’s a good idea.’’ 

‘’Why not?’’

The spell tugged your tongue begging for honesty, warm and insistent, and the silence prolonged until you found how to stretch the truth. You inhaled softly, trying to collect the right words. 

‘’You look like the kind of problem I'm not really qualified for or sure I will be able to manage. Like… advanced detached emotional skills I don’t possess or want to entertain.’’

He didn’t flinch, or left, or smirked anymore. He considered your words leaning back into the chair, arms crossed, studying you like he was deciding how to make sense of what you said. 

Niki leaned forward then, forearms on the table like he was about to touch you in any second. The distance between you and him was slowly shrinking, but you felt like the walls were falling down onto your head. 

‘’How can you know that? We don’t know each other that well,’’ he explained patiently.

That was fair and he had a point. You hated that. You nodded and exhaled, unable to lie.  ‘’That’s true.’’

He waited, sensing how you were trying to expand your answer into something that made sense but it wasn't sharp and cruel. Niki’s focus didn’t waver. 

‘’I don’t know you that well,’’ you recognized, ‘’I am simply overlaying the information I have based on observational data in social interactions to form an opinion of you.’’

One corner of his mouth twitched. ‘’Observational data. Meaning you’ve been observing me.’’

‘’I mean, not on purpose or significance,’’ you explained further. ‘’And that’s not the main takeaway.’’

‘’Tell me,’’ he encouraged you, leaning even closer. ‘’What kind of problem do I look like to you? Use your data to enlighten me.’’

“You look,” you said carefully, stretching the sentence as far as it would go, “like someone who is used to getting attention without asking for it. And who doesn’t have to work very hard to keep it.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “And?”

“And,” you continued, because the spell would not let you escape halfway, “I don’t enjoy competing with other females. Especially not recreationally and emotionally. I like stable sentimental involvements.”

Niki snorted, entertained by you, clearly. ‘’I’d be an excellent boyfriend.’’

You laughed, between surprise and incredulity, it slipped so naturally out of you that you couldn't stop it. ‘’How would you know? You’ve never had a girlfriend.’’

He arched his brow. ‘’How would you know that?’’

You narrowed your eyes, taking in his challenging tone. ‘’There’s usually a different girl every weekend,” you said, far too matter-of-factly. “Statistically speaking, long-term attachment does not appear to be your preferred pattern. It’s very notable that you’re rarely alone and there's no fixed tendency on your type either.’’

But Niki didn’t look offended or insulted, or even caught, he was intrigued. ‘’Have you been keeping track?’’

Your spine straightened. ‘’Not actively. It’s more a knowledge from a passive environmental awareness situation, like… occasionally overhearing comments in the women's restroom from time to time.’’

“Environmental awareness,” he repeated. ‘’So, gossip in the women’s bathroom. That formed your opinion of me?’’

“Well, it's like noticing changes in the weather or bird migration patterns, I guess. I’m just exposing the data I gathered.’’

Niki slowly reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. ‘’You’re comparing me to migratory bird patterns? That’s your angle here?’’

“I compare your social habits to recurring seasonal behavior,” you corrected quickly. ‘’Don’t spin this on me.’’

‘’So you think I’d be a bad boyfriend.’’ 

“I think,” you corrected, choosing each word with painful care, “that you give the impression of someone who enjoys options,’’ you said, honestly falling with surprising weight. And maybe a touch of vulnerability. ‘’Not the type of male to do stable emotional interactions.’’

For a moment, he didn’t deny it. “And that bothers you?”

“It doesn’t bother me in a personal capacity right now,” you responded, then sighed when the curse nudged you again. “But it would complicate things if we get hypothetically involved together.’’

The corner of Niki’s mouth curved upward, slower this time. “So you’re considering being hypothetically involved with me.”

“I am considering the hypothetical scenario in which I evaluate the feasibility of such involvement,” you clarified, aware of how ridiculous you sounded. 

His knee brushed yours under the table and neither of you moved. ‘’Mmm, I see. But you didn’t say you won’t date me, you say you didn’t know. Explain that, then.’’

You stared at him, blinking slowly, pretending you didn’t move your fingers away from his.

‘’I said exactly that I wouldn't know how to handle the problem you represent, theoretically.’’

‘’I’d let you,’’ he simply answered. ‘’Just say yes.’’

The tension between you shifted—less teasing now, more charged. 

‘’Let’s test your theory.’’ 

‘’My theory?’’

Niki played with one of your rings. ‘’Date me,’’ he proposed, ‘’find out if I’m actually a problem. Get to know me, do your research with your own data. What do you think?’’

Your heart flipped, lost connection with your brain and poured with automatic honesty. “I am… not opposed to gathering additional data under controlled circumstances to reassess my preliminary assumptions.”

‘’I like you,’’ Niki simplified, caressing your knuckles. ‘’And I wanna know you more.’’

That simple declaration sent your heart into failure, and your cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “I find you objectively unfair,” you said, forcing steadiness into your tone. “Your face structure combined with your confidence level creates unnecessary distractions.’’

His eyes darkened slightly at that, satisfaction flickering across his features. “So that’s a yes.”

‘’It’s not a no,’’ you sighed, a little lost in the conversation. Keeping track of the truth was already hard, but doing it under Niki’s eyes and intentions was too hard. 

‘’Saturday at the frat,’’ he straightened, victory settling over him like a final move in a game only he knew they were playing. ‘’Come to the party. We’ll be alone and nobody will bother us.’’ 

‘’But—’’

But before you could say anything else, Niki stood up and walked around the table until she was standing in front of you, leaning in until your breaths mingled and you closed your mouth. He stroked your cheek and lifted your face, holding your chin, studying you closely with a knowing look.

‘’I know you're going to try to run away,’’ he said, eyes flickering to your lips. ‘’I know you talk the way you do because you're trying to prolong the truth. I know you want this because you're not really pushing me away,’’ he murmured, his thumb rubbing your lower lip absently. ‘’You look at me the way I look at you, and it's driving me crazy, baby.’’ 

You were out of words. Niki’s gaze returned to your eyes, satisfied at the effect he had on you. He stood up, full of triumph and smiled at you, he actually fully smiled, and you just stared at Niki like you were seeing the sun for the first time.

‘’We’re dating now,’’ he mumbled, giving you one last look. ‘’And if I don't see you there, I'll come looking for you. Choose wisely,’’ he advised, already stepping back.

And that's how Niki left, leaving you stunned and recalculating in a corner of the library, your heart pounding and your cheeks flushed. 

And somehow, in a way you didn't quite understand, the day ended with you officially dating Nishimura Riki.

The fraternity house was already shaking by the time you went through the door. It wasn't surprising, because everyone wanted to be there. Nobody in their right mind would miss the chance to get close to one of the guys, to mingle with them, to get their attention. The chances of fun and craziness were too high; everyone knew about the reputation of that frat's parties. 

The air was thick with the sweet and sour aroma of alcohol, juice mixed with vodka and beer, bottles and glasses piling up everywhere. The music was so loud it pounded in your chest, the flashing lights made your footsteps blurry, and people were everywhere talking, laughing, kissing, dancing. It was the kind of party everyone would tear apart piece by piece the next day and gossip about everything that happened, because it was the kind of party where something was always happening.

You knew that your best friend was probably entangled with Jungwon in some corner of the party. You avoided touching any drop of alcohol, because adding that to a spell powered by truth was the worst idea in the world, even though that what you wanted most at that moment was a drink. 

You felt as if you had willingly walked into the lion's den, and well, you had. There didn't seem to be any safe zone; your eyes were constantly scanning for Niki to appear. This was because of the collection of accurate data, you lied to yourself. That's why you dressed so daringly. A short skirt that showed off your legs, loose hair, overly glossy lips, a long-sleeved top with a neckline that dropped just enough to show your collarbones.

It was absolutely not because of him. And then, you felt it.

It was a shift in the air, a tiny recognition of something about to happen. The weight of somebody’s attention, the feeling of being watched. You turned your face over your shoulder and locked eyes with Niki across the room, near the stairs, where he was watching you intently. 

He was surrounded by friends and other people you didn't know. When his eyes noticed you, it was as if his expression changed completely, fading into something focused and determined, satisfied. His eyes traveled over you slowly, unhurriedly, like a caress; taking in your skirt, your legs, your bare shoulders, the soft, exposed skin. You breath caught under his intense gaze, instinct kicking in from feeling like a prey. 

You turned around and blended into the crowd with ease, trying to control the mild panic and excitement coursing through your veins. You knew he was still there, keeping a close eye on you, and that running was a terrible idea. Because Niki loved a chase. You knew you were delaying the inevitable, buying more time than you had, testing limits just because you could.

You wondered if he was still following you. Wouldn't he get distracted? Wouldn't he get bored and rather pick another girl? Would he get annoyed? 

At some point you gave up and your fingers circled a plastic cup with something sweet and strong that warmed your throat and made you immediately regret it because of how good it tasted, how easy it was to drink it. You didn't know exactly where in the house you were, but it wasn't the heart of the party, it wasn't packed with people, and the music wasn't as loud.

A hand wrapped around your wrist, and you didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His thumb caressed the spot where your pulse quickened, his chest pressed against your back just enough for his breath to brush against your hair.

His mouth brushed against your ear, sending hundreds of shivers down your neck. ‘’Still running from me?’’ 

You barely turned your face, as his grip loosened from your wrist to your waist, where both hands squeezed it tightly, as if he feared you might escape. ‘’I was strategically relocating.’’

Niki laughed shortly, the sound against your ear. ‘’You saw me and tried to escape.’’

The spell cursed through your mouth before you could register it. ‘’Yes.’’

His body pressed closer to yours, making you hold your breath. ‘’Why?’’

You swallowed, searching for the right words, absentmindedly licking your lips. ‘’I wanted to know if you would follow me,’’ you admitted.

He shifted, turning your body carefully so you could face him fully. Niki’s hands were still on your waist, his touch more relaxed, but not less possessive. Up close, his eyes seemed darker, wilder, dilated under the flickering lights.

“You wore this on purpose,” he said, gaze dipping briefly to your collarbones before returning to her face. ‘’For me.’’

‘’I wore it because it's socially required to wear clothes at public events.’’

His thumbs caressed and pressed the skin of your hip, shaking his head. ‘’Not good enough. Try again and be honest.’’

The spell pushed you, taking control. ‘’I wore it because I knew you’d be here,’’ you responded before you could wrap the thought into something safer and confusing. ‘’And I wanted you to look.’’

His jaw tightened, not in anger but in restraint. ‘’You’re starting a dangerous game,’’ he warned you, voice warm and husky. ‘’Careful.’’

You shook your head, staring at him. ‘’I’m not playing,’’ you frowned, spilling truthfully. 

One of Niki’s hands slid from your waist to your back, pulling you flush against him, deliberated. The air shifted around you, your hands resting on his chest and not moving him away, too blinded by his eyes to care if anyone in the crowd saw you.

“You’re driving me insane,” he admitted, barely audible.

“You like it,” you replied, and the tremor beneath the honesty was too evident. 

His gaze flicked to your mouth. “For the record,” Niki said, “I’m about to kiss you.”

Your heart bounced, melted, reformed, and continued bouncing against your ribs. Maybe it was the spell, the drink you had, or maybe you just didn't want to fight against honesty anymore, but you smiled a little. 

‘’If you don't I might, Nishimura,’’ you lightly threaten him.

The small distance that existed vanished like a whisper, slowly, the tension that had been built up for a long time slowly letting go, something bigger entered. He kissed you as if he had waited too long to do so and didn't want to waste another second.

It wasn't desperate or clumsy, but decisive, as if he knew exactly where and how to strike. You melted into a kiss almost immediately, letting him do as he pleased with you. He made his way into your mouth and explored it slowly, savoring the strawberry and vodka from before and your own taste. Both of your breaths caught in your throats as neither of you let go, too immersed in the kiss for breathing to be a priority. 

Your hands tangled in the honey-blonde hair at the nape of his neck, your nails slowly sliding down his skin to his neck, making him hiss into the kiss, his hands touching you more freely, exploring, daring to slip inside your skirt.

You had no idea how, but between a kiss and a breath, more kisses and muffled moans against each other's mouths, at some point your back hit a door. Niki opened it, pulled you both into a room, and cornered you against the door again, closing it with a click you barely registered. His mouth went down to yours again, one hand on your throat and the other on your jaw, as if that way he could hold you down to devour your soul in peace.

When both had to separate again because their lungs couldn't take any more, you two were a bit of a mess. Niki's full lips were swollen from kisses, barely colored by your gloss, his hair a little disheveled, eyes shining with barely contained desire. You weren't looking much better either, your skirt twisted and wrinkled from how many times Niki had grabbed and crumpled it, your cheeks flushed, and your lip marked by Niki's bite.

Niki kissed you again, but this time more gently, first your lips, then the corner of your mouth, your throat, the line of your exposed collarbones. He turned you both gently, walking into the room while continuing to kiss and gently suck on your skin, making you sigh and hold onto him, until you laid on a bed and a little bit of sense got to your fuzzy brain. 

Only then you fully looked at your surroundings. 

The light was dim, with a lamp in the corner casting a warm glow. Sneakers were arranged against the wall, some everyday shoes and some basketball shoes. Hanging from a hook near the closet was a jacket with a number and Niki's last name embroidered on the back.

You tilted your neck to get a better look and Niki interpreted it as you were giving him more space, smiling against your neck and continuing the trail of slow, wet kisses, making himself room between your legs. 

You blinked, still finding details to look at. ‘’This is your room,’’ you said.

Niki stopped briefly, looked at you and then placed a kiss on your lips. ‘’Welcome.’’

‘’This feels like important information,’’ you arched a brow, curious. 

‘’We’re busy,’’ he replied simply, leaning again to press another kiss to your mouth. Your pulse quickened, and you let him distract you with his mouth, wrapping your legs not so timidly around his waist. His lips trailed down the spine of your throat, biting the sensitive spots that made you dig your fingers into his shoulders, breathless.

Your eyes opened for a second, but it was enough to notice something at the other end of the room. It was a medium-sized cabinet hanging against the wall, made of wood and glass, a display case. Inside, carefully arranged under warm strip lighting were small collectible figures— you knew them too well. Cute, round-headed, soft features, expressive.

Hirono.

Not one. Not two. Several. Arranged too neatly to be random, they were all different, but aligned according to the collection they belonged to. It was a curated exhibition. 

The stunned gasp you let out was too loud and made Niki froze for a second, looking up from your neck. ‘’What?’’

You couldn't control the little laugh that bubbled up from you, a mixture of disbelief, excitement, and delight. ‘’You have Hirono figures!’’

Something too interesting happened. Niki blinked, as if that was the last thing he expected to hear from you. For the first time he seemed hesitant, as if he had been caught up in a confusing crime, but at the same time, something else flashed across his face... a touch of shyness. 

He cleared his throat. ‘’What?’’

You twisted slightly in his hold to point at the display case, smiling. ‘’They’re in a diorama, aren’t they? You arranged them by series. The right ones are from the Mime set and the middle ones are,’’ you squinting your eyes, leaning in, ‘’Little Mischief. Right?’’

Niki stared at you, eyes glowing. ‘’You know them?’’ He asked slowly.

‘’Of course,’’ you looked at him incredulously. ‘’I collect them too.’’

He stepped back a little to get a better look at you, holding himself above you. ‘’You’re lying.’’

‘’I can’t lie,’’ you replied automatically, too focused on the figures to notice the slip. ‘’They even look like you, Nishimura.’’

His eyebrows shot up and he snorted. ‘’They do not.’’

‘’They do,’’ you insisted with a laugh. ‘’Look at them! Their eyes and little nose. Moody, slightly frowning, probably judging everyone internally.’’

He stared at you for a moment, as if debating whether he should be offended or not. ‘’I do not look like a Hirono figure.’’

‘’The resemblance it’s very accurate,’’ you defended your theory. 

He looked back at the figures and then at you, something unreadable flickering across his expression. No one noticed those figures when they entered his room. Not the guys on the team or his friends; maybe Jungwon took a picture of them once but didn't ask any further questions about it. Definitely not the girls who came and went and whose names he didn't bother to remember afterward. 

But you did, without a second thought, without trying to impress him. “You’re the first person who’s ever said anything about them,” he blurted, before he could stop himself.

The confession floated between the two of you, as soft as the muffled music that could be heard from below. You felt your face slowly lose its smile, your expression becoming gentler. 

‘’They're arranged as if you cared about them, as if you'd thought it carefully. Of course I noticed.’’ 

He closed the small space and kissed you once again, while his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face. ‘’What am I gonna do with you?’’

‘’You’re the one who dragged me here.’’

‘’You talking about my collection distracted me more than necessary.’’

You smiled a little. ‘’They’re cute.’’

He shook his head, stealing another kiss. ‘’You’re cuter.’’

The spell sparkled but this time you didn’t feel it like a threat or a trap, just letting it take its course. ‘’You look unfairly attractive when you’re flustered,” you observed. 

‘’I’m not flustered.’’

‘’Liar,’’ you scoffed. 

Niki huffed a quiet laugh and kissed you again, slowly. His hands slipped back under your skirt, and you didn't stop him, letting his palms cover and caress your thighs as he devoured your mouth like someone who had all the time in the world. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let each kiss melt you more and more, until the migratory patterns of birds no longer mattered to you, nor did the spell, letting Niki convince you with every touch that he wasn't a problem you could easily run away from.

Maybe it was because your lungs had their daily dose of suffering when they made you run ten laps around the field, or maybe the concussion from days ago was a delayed effect, but you were just too dizzy.

Niki's body pushed you further against the wall, as if the way you were pressed together wasn't enough and he needed more. It wasn't a soft kiss, but the kind of kisses Niki gave where you were convinced he wanted to steal the air from your lungs and replace it with him. 

The bastard knew exactly which buttons to push, his warm hand cradling your jaw while the other one was inside your shorts, long fingers buried deeply in your dripping cunt. His thumb gently stroked your cheek, in that way he knew it would melt you too quickly. It did.

When he pulled back you were too disoriented to remember where you were; hidden from stares under the stands in broad daylight, feeling like two highschoolers furiously making out before getting caught. Your heart was pounding as if you had made ten more laps, moans stuck in your throat trying to keep them at bay, but the way Niki was fingering you was merciless.

‘’Come watch my training,’’ he murmured against your ear, lips kissing the sport under it. His fingers found the spot inside you that made you whimper, stroking it over and over. ‘’I want to see you there, sitting all pretty and mine. Where I can look at you.’’

He had tried to convince you for several days, and you had to admit the man had a certain charm that made you hesitate. Maybe it was the amazing orgasms. Once you had almost agreed, but when a girl you didn't know greeted you and asked what you did to get Niki and if it was true that he had a huge cock like his friends, you panicked a little and abandoned the idea. The spell was coming to an end and you weren't going to give in.

‘’If you don’t,’’ he added, voice dripping into something dangerous and playful at the same time, ‘’I won’t kiss you again. Or worse.’’

You blinked at him, cunt clenching around his fingers, cheeks flushed. ‘’O-or worse?’’ 

Niki hummed and nodded, fucking you faster until you gasped against his lips and he swallowed every moan of yours while you cum, holding you as your thighs trembled and crushed his hand between your legs. 

He deliberately brushed his fingers against your clit one last time as he withdrew his hand and brought them to his mouth, sucking your juices while continuing to look at you. Niki didn’t say anything else, just kissed you, so fondly and threatening at the same time, and walked away towards the field like nothing had happened. Wearing an eating-shit smirk, whistling softly to himself. 

You stared at him, recalculating your entire existence, just as you had from the moment Niki decided to be a part of your life weeks ago. 

You told yourself that maybe it was the afterglow of a good orgasm, or maybe you just had nothing better to do, or perhaps a part of you really wanted to watch Niki training, all sweaty and focused. The day felt like it was about to explode into a storm at any moment, the sky gray and covered with thick, threatening clouds waiting for the perfect opportunity. There was hardly anyone watching the boys, just a few girls a few steps up in the stands— Minju was there.

Buttercup as well.

Minju had grown fond of her chickens and had bought accessories to take them everywhere. Her most recent purchase was a backpack with a hard, clear plastic cover that was actually for walking cats, but the label didn't specify that it couldn't be used for chickens.

She was leaning forward, with lovestruck eyes and a silly, dreamy expression, watching Jungwon run. Inside the plaster carrier Buttercup was dozing off, relaxed and round. Your best friend noticed your hesitation and smiled at you, tapping the spot next to her with an expression that said, "you better sit down or I'm capable of tackling you to the ground if you take one step back."

You sat. 

The world didn’t combust instantly. Minju beamed and turned her attention back to the field. You gradually relaxed and leaned forward as well, resting your chin on your hand as you openly watched Niki. He had just finished a drill and was talking to Heeseung (who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but running there, clearly struggling) (he was the last victim to be convinced to join the open class), when his eyes flickered up to the stands and landed on you. 

You swore you saw his pupils dilating. Something in his expression changed and his smile was slow. Darker, satisfied, making your stomach flip and your pussy throb. But it didn't stop there. Niki was focused on training, of course, but every now and then he'd glance at you, as if making sure you were still there. You met his gaze each time, even smiling slightly and enjoying the way it seemed to affect him. 

You'd discovered that this was a two-way street, and that Niki, the unattainable and serious Niki, was capable of getting flustered. Like when he asked you which Hironos you collected and if he could see them, and which one was your favorite. Or the time you just kissed his neck and brushed his hair back without thinking about it too much, and Niki blinked and then melted against you.

The training session ended and the boys scattered everywhere, some going for water, others lying on the ground to stretch, but not Niki. He walked straight to you, determined eyes that held you still in your place, your pulse spiking with anticipation. 

He kissed you in front of everybody, hands cradling your face.

Minju gasped, you swore Buttercup made a similar sound, other peoples gasps reached your ears as well, but honestly it could have been a trick of your mind. Nothing existed around you but you and Niki.

He pulled back enough to grin at you, eyes soft and bright with a touch of mischief. ‘’Hi, baby.’’

You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts. ‘’Uh… Hi.’’

‘’Ready to go?’’

You nodded, still a little hazy and flustered. He took your hand, pulled you up, grabbed his bag, threw it over his shoulder, and got you out of there in less than two minutes. He also ignored Jay throwing kisses at him while leaving. 

Niki decided to break the silence first, your hand in his gently swaying, intertwined. ‘’There’s a party tonight at Jake’s,’’ he started, stealing a glance at you. ‘’Jay’s pretending we don't notice, but he wants to get a girl's attention.’’

You arched a brow, interested. ‘’Is he trying to set a trap there or what?’’

‘’That’s what I thought,’’ he huffed a laugh, drawing you closer to him. ‘’He’s been weird lately. Restless. Anyway, Jake wants us to keep an eye on the party. He know how things can get.’’ 

You gently bumped your shoulder against his, trying not to smile and failing. ‘’Is this your way of asking me to come with you?’’

‘’This is an opportunity for you to continue collecting new data to establish your patterns. Or have I already convinced you that I'm not a problem?’’

‘’Hmm. You are... doing an acceptable job in proving your case considering my prior judgment based on social environmental observation. Maybe you'll give me back my sunglasses too, Nishimura?’’

‘’They will remain my hostage until you accept that I was right and that I can be a good boyfriend.’’

You didn't correct him and Niki noticed.

Jake's house was exactly the chaos you imagined it to be, maybe a little smaller and more contained than the frat parties, but no less alive and vibrant for it. Before you could go inside and find Niki, something small and black, furry, jumped out from the side and meowed at you. The cat blinked slowly at you, and you tilted your head, studying it, feeling an energy emanating from it that stopped you before you could pet its head. You chuckled softly in disbelief, glancing at the cat and then back at Jake's house as if you were mentally running through the odds.

‘’I can’t believe it,’’ you mumbled, staring at the knowing eyes of the cat. 

‘’Welcome, dear,’’ the cat purred. ‘’I’m Minhyung and you're the one with the truth spell, aren't you?’’

‘’Unfortunately.’’

The cat meowed and laughed, shaking his head. You had to admit, it was too cute and fluffy to even care that it was probably an ancient soul, so of course you petted his ears softly. 

‘’Aish, that punishment was too much. Anyway, your boy’s inside. It’s a house full of witches tonight,’’ Minhyung observed, tilting his head so he could get more pets to his ears and neck.

You entered the house, greeted by loud pulsing music and drunken laughter. You recognized some faces among the dancing crowd, the dim light and the smell of liquor, like Jake taking a girl upstairs and Jungwon and Minju huddled in a corner devouring each other's faces. You slowly made your way through the party, not quite knowing where you were going or where to find Niki, your body trembling with anticipation. It was impossible not to.

In the short time you and he had spent together, Niki had done an incredibly good job training your body. Maybe it was the slow making out sessions in bed, or the way he buried his face between your legs like an starved man, or the intense way he looked at you sometimes, as if he were thinking about throwing you to the ground and fucking you until you couldn't take any more.

You just wanted to find him, sit him down on the nearest surface you could find, and ride him while you kissed him. And maybe then watch something while spooning.

Your steps led you to the almost deserted backyard and you pursed your lips, examining your surroundings without much success, when a hand encircled your wrist and you were cornered against the wall.

Niki placed one hand beside your head and the other settled comfortably on your waist. His eyes drifted to your lips, slowly and deliberately, as if he were thinking about how to kiss you.

‘’You took your sweet time,’’ he said, tilting your chin up. ‘’I was wondering if maybe you backed out.’’

You rolled your eyes. ‘’I said I would come. Why, Nishimura? Would you have missed me?’’

‘’Yes.’’

His thumb brushed your hip and you felt it everywhere, staring at his full lips while he was closing the distance and—

Your phone started ringing with the most annoying alarm ever. 

‘’Wait—wait— let me turn it off—’’

Niki exhaled though his nose, amused. ‘’Seriously?’’

You frowned a little. ‘’I don't even remember setting an ala—’’

You glanced at the screen, blinking completely shocked like you quite didn’t understand what was written on it. 

FULL LUNAR CYCLE COMPLETED!!!

You gasped loud, dramatic, so loud that startled Niki.

He looked at you urgently. ‘’What?’’

You stared at the words like it was some divine intervention. You let out a shriek and jumped on your place, laughing. 

‘’Oh my God!— OH MY GOD!’’

You threw your arms around Niki’s neck so suddenly that he catched you firmly to stop both of you from falling over. You were screaming and laughing and Niki laughed too, more startled and confused than anything, automatically wrapping his arms around your waist to steady you. 

‘’It’s over! I can't believe it! I did it!’’ You laughed again, a little hysterical. ‘’It’s over, it’s over!’’

He blinked down at you, the pure face of confusion. ‘’What is?’’

‘’I survived the whole lunar cycle! It’s over! I’m free!’’

You were practically bouncing in his arms, pulling back only to grab his face and grin at him like you just won millions. 

‘’A month,’’ you started, smiling too wide. ‘’An entire lunar cycle! made it!’’

Niki stared at you, arching a brow. ‘’Lunar cycle?’’ He repeated slowly. ‘’...Is this about your period or something?’’

You didn’t even hear him, skipping away from him and spinning around the yard with your arms in the air. ‘’I can shut up! I can lie! I have options!’’

He watched you like you officially lost your mind.

You approached him again and took his hands, jumping with a smile. ‘’Do you have any idea how hard is to live without lying even once?’’

Niki’s eyebrow shoots up. ‘’You haven’t been lying this whole time?’’

You beamed at him. ‘’I haven’t!’’

He squinted at you, nodding. ‘’That… explains a lot.’’ 

‘’I’m free,’’ you whispered dramatically. ‘’It’s over.’’

Niki stared at you for a whole moment and then, very slowly, he smiled. Not a smug smirk or his teasing grin. A soft, pretty, full smile. Warm and completely smitten by you. 

You were still dancing in tiny, excited circles close to him when Niki reached out, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you flush against his body in one smooth motion.

‘’I have no idea what’s happening,’’ he admitted quietly, brushing his nose with yours. ‘’But you look too adorable to care.’’

He kissed you, deeply, sighing into the kiss like he just found the place where he belonged. Niki held you against him, hands firm and possessive, like he was anchoring you to him. The party noises blurred into something in the back of your mind and you melted against him, fingers curling into his shirt. 

When he finally separated from your lips, a thread of saliva joined them both, which he slowly licked from your mouth. He rested his forehead against yours, his hands wandering further down until he grabbed your ass.

‘’So,’’ he murmured, staring at your eyes, ‘’does this mean you’re going to start lying to me now?’’

You smiled, slow and seductive, stealing a short kiss from him. ‘’That,’’ you whispered sweetly, ‘’depends.’’

His eyes darkened. ‘’On what?’’

You tilted your head, pretending to think about it while biting your lip. Niki’s gaze followed the movement. 

‘’On how good you’re gonna fuck me tonight.’’ 

Niki promised himself that Jake would never find out, despite all their years of friendship, that he used his parents' empty room to have sex with you in the middle of a party. But it was so fucking worth it. 

Maybe you had bitten off more than you could swallow because Niki took your challenge too seriously and you were paying for it with orgasms that didn't let you string a single thought together, your body simply reacting to his will. His mouth was closed over your nipples, alternating between sucking one and then the other until they were red and tender as you moaned and your vision blurred with a second orgasm incoming, his fingers pushed inside your soaked wet pussy. 

‘’That’s it,’’ he mumbled quietly around your nipple, sucking it again while you arched and moaned. ‘’Just take it, baby. Cum again for me, let me stretch this pretty pussy for my cock.’’ 

You gasped from overstimulation, listening to the wet noises your pussy made each time Niki thrusted his fingers inside fast and hard, clinging to his hair and pushing it towards your tits, Niki growled and sucked your nipples roughly, swirling his tongue. You came with a muffled scream and whimpered when Niki didn’t stop, your pussy tightening around his fingers as if you didn't want to let them go.

He chuckled darkly, staring at you completely fascinated at the state you were. Panting, teary, marked everywhere by his mouth; red hickeys blooming all over your neck down your chest, to the pretty and soft skin of your breasts, nipples swollen from having sucked them for so long. So prettily destroyed by him, and it was just the beginning.

‘’Fuck,’’ you whispered, a trembling mess, tears failing from pleasure. You sobbed a short laugh. ‘’You’re such a menace, Nishimura.’’

Niki straightened with a proud smirk and began working his belt, your eyes immediately fixed on the tent in his pants. You licked your lips and replaced his hands, opening his pants and pulling down his boxers until his hard cock sprang out, hard and veiny. Too big. 

‘’No way.’’

‘’What?’’

‘’It’s… so big,’’ you breathed in short gasps, encircling his cock with both hands and pumping it slowly, making him moan. You looked at it from under your eyelashes, rubbing the tip with your thumb, spreading the precum leaking. You were a girl open to accepting challenges, but this worried you a little. ‘’I don’t think it’ll fit, Niki.’’

Niki simply smiled smugly, his dark eyes filled with desire. He flipped you onto the bed, making you yelp because of how sudden and abrupt it was. Your pussy fluttered and a new gush of wetness soaked you, feeling his hands wandering through your body, gripping and squeezing your waist, your thighs, the curve of your ass. 

‘’It won’t fit,’’ you repeated shakily, even as you let Niki position you however he wanted. Face pushed down, ass up, your back arched so prettily that made him grunt and spank you. You whimpered and you turned your head, trying to look at him. ‘’Are you listening to me?’’

‘’Of course I’m listening,’’ he said, positioning himself behind you and caressing your ass with his cock, gently rubbing against your skin. He slipped his cock between your folds and began to rub it lazily back and forth making you feel how hard it was, how big it was. You dripped all over him with a moan each time the head of his cock grazed your throbbing clit. ‘’Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make it fit just fine. You’re ready for me, you trust me, right?’’

‘’Y-yeah,’’ you moaned, feeling the tip of his cock lining up to your hole, barely pushing. Niki grabbed your hips, held you down onto the bed and slowly guided his cock inside you. ‘’I do.’’

The head of his cock pushed against your entrance, forcing its way in little by little and stretching you completely. You gasped and opened your legs wider as he pushed his cock inch by inch, making you whimper at its thickness. Fuck. You had never felt so full, so stretched out and open, a loud moan leaving without you could control yourself. 

‘’Relax for me, pretty girl,’’ he said quietly, still keeping the slow but unforgiving pace. You tried not to tense up, but everything was both too much and too little, gently sniffing against the bed as your pussy tightened around Niki's cock. ‘’Just like that, taking me so well.’’

Niki hissed softly, feeling your cunt wrapping so tight his cock was the hottest thing he ever saw; how your pretty, wet hole creamed his length. 

‘’You’re doing so well, baby,’’ he whispered, hands holding you in place, big hands caressing your waist, your ass. ‘’Opening your pretty pussy for me, letting me fill you. You can feel it, don’t you? How deep it goes?’’

You nodded, drool dripping into the pillow as coherent thoughts left your head and all you could feel was his cock inside you, making you clench so hard around him it made him moan. Niki's thrusts were slow and deep, and you swore it made you feel him all the way to your stomach. He was buried too deep inside you, each push of his thick cock stretching you further until the pleasure was too much. 

His pace quickened, his cock sliding in more easily because of how wet you were and how he had opened you up. ‘’Look at you,’’ he sneered, giving your ass a firm squeeze. ‘’Taking my cock so well, greedy pussy’s sucking me in,’’ he moaned, low and dirty. ‘’Fucking take it like a good girl.’’

Your moans grew louder and your eyes rolled back in your head as he began to fuck you faster, pounding you hard from behind. You cried from pleasure into the mattress, your pussy tightened and dripped around him, milking him with each thrust that went so far you were sure his tip was grazing your cervix. Niki was fucking you so hard that the bed moved, hitting the wall softly and you could’t do anything but to take it, a moaning mess. 

‘’Not so mouthy now, right?’’ He scoffed, giving you another spank, making you whimper and squeeze his cock harder. ‘’That’s what I fucking thought,’’ he chuckled, burying himself into your cunt faster, with a low groan. 

‘’Niki,’’ you moaned, barely able to form a sentence, not feeling anything but his thick cock and his ruthless pace, the way he was filling you. ‘’Please— I’m gonn—’’

‘’Ah, ah, not until I say so,’’ he warned you, laughing when you whined and sobbed when another spank landed on your ass. ‘’Not until you fucking say this pussy is mine. C’mon, baby, don’t keep me waiting. Say it.’’ 

‘’I-it’s—,’’ you moaned again, cunt stretched out and throbbing around him, every thrust sending you over the edge. He hit your g-spot over and over, making you tremble. ‘’It’s yours—’’ 

‘’That’s right,’’ he mumbled, slamming into your harder, deeper and desesperate; sweat dripping from his temple. ‘’Say I’m not a fucking problem.’’

‘’Niki!’’ You sobbed softly, hardly holding back from shattering. He just hummed darkly, almost amused. You shook your head quickly and moaned again, too gone to even care to lie, your pussy throbbing around his cock, needy and desperate. ‘’You’re not a problem—’’

‘’Cum for me, baby, milk my fucking cock,’’ he ordered, voice rough and husky going straight to your core. The pleasure was so intense that once you reached the peak, it simply destroyed you, leaving you trembling and broken. You were too full, overstimulated, squeezing his cock as your climax coursed through you, leaving you a whimpering mess. ‘’I’m filling this pretty hole until it overflows,’’ he promised, voice used and hoarse. ‘’Beg for it.’’

You looked at Niki from the pillow, eyelashes with unshed tears and a completely spaced out expression from being fucked too good, cheeks flushed and makeup smudged. You blinked slowly and licked your lips, milking his cock with the spasms of your cunt.

‘’Don’t pull out,’’ you gasped softly, reaching for him. Niki didn’t doubt it for a second, holding your hand while slamming into your pussy almost brutally. ‘’I want it inside—please—fill me up,’’ you begged with a broken moan. ‘’Mark my pussy with you cum—’’

Niki cursed under his breath, railing you almost at a punishing pace, using your hole until you were both moaning with raw desperation. You never felt anything so intense before and your body couldn't handle it, making you come for the fourth time with a scream as Niki buried himself deep inside you, coming with a hoarse moan. 

You collapse onto the bed, your knees giving away, your whole body trembling and sensitive. Every part of you was throbbing, used and spent. Niki spilled his load inside your cunt and you moaned softly at the feeling, flooding your womb with hot ropes of cum, making you feel so full. His body covered yours and you could feel his racing heart in your back, staying inside you as you both tried to catch your breath. 

You laid there, enjoying his weight against you, the sensation of his cock filling you, and his hot cum slowly escaping from your hole. Niki moved a little and you moaned, tensing up a little, but he gently silenced you, slowly kissing your neck until you relaxed again. 

‘’Shhh, it’s fine,’’ he said quietly, coaxing you with more soft kisses. ‘’You’re okay?’’

You nodded and sobbed a little, still holding onto his hand. Your mind felt… flying somewhere. A wave of need filling you that you didn't understand, only knowing that you wanted his warmth surrounding you. ‘’Don’t leave.’’

‘’I won’t,’’ he reassured you, slipping out of your cunt carefully. You hissed because of the sensitivity and Niki kissed your shoulder, silently apologizing. ‘’C’mere.’’

Niki settled on his side and pulled you close to his chest, studying your face while drying the wetness from your cheeks with his thumb unhurriedly, fondly. You snuggled into his chest and sighed, too drunk on orgasms to even think, just needing him closer. Niki kissed your forehead, lips lingering there, arms wrapping securely around you, making you completely content and warm. Heart fluttering happily, but that was another thing. 

‘’So? You’re gonna start lying to me?’’

You chuckled tiredly, smiling to yourself with your eyes closed. ‘’No if you keep the good work, Nishimura.’’

‘’I told you I’d be an excellent boyfriend.’’ 

his tongue swipes across your bottom lip, begging for permission to enter your mouth. when you grant it, he deepens the kiss, hands holding your face in a way that makes you think that you're more than a hookup to him. jake sucks on your tongue, moans leaving him as he does so.

"fuck, you're so gorgeous. tell me what you want, angel."

"need you so bad, please. just.. i need you to put it in already," you whine, face heating up when you see the amusement dancing across the brunet's face.

"so needy," he kisses your forehead, "gonna give you what you want; don't worry your pretty little head about it, 'kay?"

the butterflies in your stomach make it hard to think logically—all you can think about is the feeling of him inside of you. you watch as he lines himself up with your entrance, slapping his tip against your clit a few times. lifting your hips in impatience, he smiles again, moving his free hand up to cup your cheek. you whine loudly when he finally pushes in, turning your head to cover your mouth with his hand.

he coos at you, turning your head back towards him. "look at me, yeah? need to see your face."

he doesn't pause to make sure that you listen to him—he knows you will—and immediately starts thrusting, not bothering to let you get used to his size. once he finds that sweet spot inside of you, he abuses it, angling his hips so that he's able to hit it over and over again. all the while he's stroking your face, absentmindedly wiping away the tears of pleasure that fall from your eyes.

your body is trying its best to get away from him, to get away from the overstimulation of having already orgasmed three times prior to this, but jake's not having it. he takes his hand away from your cheek, using it to grip at your hips, using you like a pocket pussy.

both of your moans are loud, and you have zero doubt that his frat brothers can hear the two of you. not that it's something they haven't heard before.

"fuck—you're so fucking tight, holy shit," he grunts out, burying his face in your neck. "gonna ruin this pussy; make sure you're only able to come undone on my cock."

you moan in response, babbling out incoherent nonsense. all you can focus on right now is the way he's somehow hitting the spot that makes you dizzy at exactly the right angle, quickly undoing the knot in your stomach. jake notices that you're close, grunting when he feels your walls squeeze around him. his hand falls where the two of you connect, lithe fingers expertly rubbing against your clit to help you reach your climax quicker.

"jake—jake, i'm gonna cum. please, i'm so close, oh my god," you cry out, clueless as to what you're begging for. he's giving you everything you need and more, talking you through your orgasm.

“so good for me,” he moans, “everything i ever wanted, holy shit, you’re so beautiful.”

jake’s moans are louder than yours, quickly losing himself in the way your cunt tightens around him with every rock of his hips. his thrusts become sloppier, quicker, as he chases both of your highs.

“fuck, fuck—love you so fucking much. nobody else feels as good as you do.” 

your orgasms rip through the two of you at the same time, both of your bodies spasming. he stays inside you for a moment to catch his breath before he pulls out, a guttural groan leaving him as he watches his cum spill from your cunt. 

neither of you mention his confession, knowing that he’ll never fully commit to you.

you're sitting at your vanity doing your makeup when your phone buzzes against the counter. there's a text from jake on the screen telling you that he's fallen ill and has to cancel on your date night in, followed by a sad face emoji that you found so cute. you were a bit sad to see that he had to cancel, however, you couldn't fault him in any way possible— he was sick after all.

you responded and told him it's alright and that you hope he recovers soon, followed with a sad face emoji of your own. jake hearts your text and sends a photo of himself bundled up in blankets in bed, redness in his cheeks and slightly sunken eyes with a pout on his lips.

it makes your heart ache seeing your sweet boyfriend suffering all alone so you ask him if he'd like company— telling him that you'll take care of him, cook food for him, make sure he takes his medicine, etc; you were completely okay with playing nurse for your boyfriend because you loved him that much.

but as much as jake would've loved that— he didn't want to risk you also getting sick.

you tried to convince him but he just kept denying and told you that he'll feel even worse if you get sick because of him. you ended up agreeing and saying that you're there if he needs, to which he appreciates— but you chose to defy him anyway. once you had finished getting ready, makeup and hair done just simply, you began to prepare for everything your boyfriend could need. you ran to the store to pick up ingredients for a weeks worth of healthy and recovery meals, medicine and supplements to boost and promote his immune system to heal, and some things he'd appreciate like gifts in the form of legos and a plush of a dog that looked like his— even getting him flowers because boys deserve flowers too!

cooking everything took a few hours and during that time you were sure to check up on jake— at some point he stopped responding to your check ups so you figured that he must've fell asleep after taking some of his medicine. you finished cooking, packed everything up carefully, and made your way to jake's apartment— you sent him a text to say if he's awake and set your phone aside for the drive over.

━━━━⊱ you carried several bags up the stairs to jake's apartment before carefully setting them down on floor so you could knock on the door, but jake doesn't answer. you check your phone to see if he's responded but nothing— the time has gotten much later and you didn't realize how late it was getting; the sun was already starting to slowly dip past the horizon and the warm colors of the sky reminded you that there would be a blood moon lunar eclipse tonight— something that you don't get to see so often and it made you want to spend time with your boyfriend even more.

experiencing a sensation like that with the one you love would be such a cool memory to share with one another.

you tried to knock again and when jake doesn't answer the door you decide to use the spare key he's given you. you pushed the key into the slot and pushed the door with a twist of the knob. you didn't announce yourself because you figured that jake must've been sleeping and you didn't want to disturb his sleep.

after you set everything into the kitchen and put away some of the stuff that needs to be in the fridge— you make your war across his apartment to find jake. when you slowly push his door open to peek into his bedroom, you're surprised to find his bed empty. jake was no where to be found— bathroom and living room empty as well.

you were starting to get worried when you suddenly remembered that jake had an extra room at the end of the hallway— one that he's told you to avoid without reason. that was a while ago and although he never gave you a reason as to why that room was off limits, you figured that prying into something so early into your relationship wouldn't be the best idea; eventually you naturally forgot about the room because not only was it none of your business but also because jake never gave you any reason to think he was hiding something.

it was a private part of his space and you weren't going to intrude— he wouldn't do that with you either.

but as the silence persisted you found yourself walking over to the very room you told yourself you would never intrude in.

you stopped right in front of the door, gently pressing your ear to the wooden surface to try and hear something on the inside but it was just as quiet save for the thumping in your chest that pounds into your ears. you don't know why you felt so nervous and the silence wasn't helping— you expected the door to be locked since jake has told you that room was private but when you grab the doorknob and turned it, it opened with ease. you blinked at it in disbelief but pushed through anyway.

the room was dark but the light from outside stretched far enough that you could see just a few feet in front of you.

you carefully padded through the room to avoid knocking into anything, feeling against the wall for a light switch, flipping it on when your fingers graze the switch. the light emerges from the ceiling and instead of the usual cool white or warm yellow, it was a deep red shade that painted the whole room like it was drenched in blood. it felt like the blood moon had washed through the room much earlier and when you looked at your phone, the moon wasn't in the sky for another few minutes.

a chill runs down your spine when you finally give the room a good look— there were tables with restraints; chains, ropes, cuffs. there's scratch marks that break the surface of the walls and as you walk deeper into the room, you can hear heavy breathing and the sound of metal lightly tapping against each other. you slowly peered around the corner of the room and there you found someone hunched over, arms hovering above and behind them as they're bound by chains.

you can hear the person sniffle— then sniff and sniff again.

the person began to sniff harder and harder until he eventually raised his head.

"jake?" you said— panic in your voice after realizing it was your boyfriend who was chained up in his own home.

"oh my god! baby.." you run over to him, cupping his face to get a good look on his face. he had a layer of sweat on top of skin, his hair was a mess and slightly damp, his body was insanely warm, and you couldn't even get past the fact that he looked way worse than just someone who had a common cold.

"who did this to you— let me get you out." you huffed, reaching for the chains around his wrists.

"no!" he shouts, causing you to jump back. you looked at him with a confused look and before you could even ask him why or what was happening, he was telling you to leave. "you shouldn't be here— go! please!" his voice was hoarse, like he had been tortured in his own home. you couldn't simply just leave your boyfriend in this state, so you ignored him. you reached for the chains once more but he shoved you away, making you land on your bottom with a soft thud.

you met his gaze and his eyes were sunken— his usual warm brown eyes were now replaced with a dark crimson and you weren't sure if it was the lighting in the room that was playing games with you or if his eyes were actually that color but his gaze was enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck rise like a warning.

but you didn't listen— it's your boyfriend after all and if he looks like he's in need of help, what kind of girlfriend would that make you if you just left? "jake… please let me help. what's going on?" you pleaded, cupping his face again and swiping the loose hairs that have stuck to his forehead with sweat away. he barely had enough strength to keep his head up like his whole body was too heavy for his own good.

"please—" you muttered but are cut off when jake's back curves with an eerie cracking sound and a roar escapes his lips so loud that you find yourself covering your ears and flinching away.

"you— you need to leave." jake manages to breathe out, voice much deeper and threatening than the usual soft tone he'd speak to you with.

"i can't just leave you!" you tried reasoning with him, reaching out to him once again to grab his face and look into his eyes despite them being a terrifying and inhuman color but it doesn't work. his body has gotten warmer— stronger. he easily shoves you away again without much effort and in any other circumstance you would've already left, but it's your sweet boyfriend, jake. you needed to be there for him.

"just tell me what's going on—" you plead with him again but the atmosphere in room suddenly shifts.

the air becomes thick, the red that paints the walls gets deeper, and jake's breathing only gets heavier— rougher like he's having trouble breathing but breathing clearer at the same time. like his body is changing in some way that you couldn't quite comprehend. it isn't until he looks up at you again and you see the changes in his face.

his hair has gotten thicker and has grown across the sides of his face in places where you usually placed soft kisses.

his eyes have gotten much darker and more intense.

the shape of his nose has taken the form of a snout.

and when he opened his mouth to speak, sharp rows of teeth flashed under the red light.

your lips trembled in fear as he stared at you like you were his prey. a smile spread across his face at the fear coming off of you.

"you should've left when i told you to.." jake's voice is low and guttural.

like a growl.

"i– jake.. i—" you stuttered over your words in fear and jake just laughs.

a low, deep, laugh that comes from the depths of his chest. it doesn't even sound like him but as the laugh continues it becomes more manic and crazed. all you can do is blink at him as your body freezes at the sight of your boyfriend that doesn't feel like your boyfriend anymore. he still looks like jake in some ways but the man— if that's what he even is— in front of you wasn't your sweet boyfriend anymore.

"i've hid this part of my life from you for long enough— i guess you would've found out sooner or later." jake says, tongue darting out of his mouth to swipe across his bottom lip and you can't help but notice the way his tongue looks thicker and longer— even a whole completely different shade from it's usual fleshy pink.

"this is who i am, darling. come give your boyfriend a kiss why don't you? i think it'll make me feel a lot better, wouldn't you agree?"

he's taunting you.

jake's got a chilling grin on his face and despite your brain telling you not to get closer and to run— your body reacts on it's own. you crawl forward, knees and hands pressed against the floor of the room as you move on all fours towards him. he's nodding at you encouragingly and it sends vibrations through your body. "that's it, come to me sweet girl." he says when you're just a foot away and before you could fully reach him, he lunges at you.

you call back once again and because of the chains wrapped around his arms he's just shy of reaching you. you look up at him with wide eyes and he's snarling at you with his sharp canine teeth biting and snapping towards you— spit drooling out of the sides of his mouth.

"you smell so fucking good— come here. let me get just one bite. just one!" his voice gets hysterical towards the end as he gets more and more feral and when you try to crawl backwards when you finally listen to your brain and try to leave, you see the way the walls begin to crack under the pressure of jake's pure strength pulling himself away from his confinement.

he was about to break loose of his restraints and just when you're scrambling to your feet, he breaks off the chains and is instantly on top of you. a shriek leaves your lips as jake presses his body against yours, his hips already rubbing against yours like a wild beast. "jake! please—" you gasp in fear, trying to find the sweet boy you knew that was deep down still inside of him.

"sshhh— quiet now, my sweet girl." he hushes, bringing one of his fingers to your lips and the way his nails have grown into claws sends shivers across your spine. "it's me— jakey, remember?" his voice is soft like what you're used to. he still looks terrifying but his voice alone was enough to pluck the fear out of your chest and replace it with tenderness. your body instantly relaxes at his voice like you're melting beneath him as he continues to hump you through your clothes.

jake pushes your legs open with his knee and keeps them apart.

"yeah— there we go. see, it's me. don't be scared…" he says, moving towards your neck and taking one long huff of your scent.

"mmm… so fuckin' sweet." he says, eyes closed in pleasure.

"you'll be good for me right? you wouldn't wanna disappoint me or let me down?" he raises his brows at you like he already knew the answer, just waiting for you to say what he wants to hear.

"ye— yes, jakey. i'll be good…" your voice comes out like a squeak.

he smiles at you, flashing his sharp teeth once again as a sense of pride wells inside of him at how you're being so good and obedient.

jake works quickly.

he flips you over onto your stomach and uses his claws to tear through your clothes— fabric thrown around haphazardly as he races to remove all of the things in the way of you and his body. "so perfect— fuck." he growls, biting down on his lip when he sees the plumpness of your ass.

"jake—" you whimper when he grabs hold of your waist with a tight grip— nails lightly digging into your skin. you wriggle in his grip but it only makes him grab onto you even tighter— "uh uh… don't try to run away now. you're gonna take it like you always do. right, baby?" he asks, pressing his chest against your back as he whispers into your ear, licking and nibbling on your lobe.

you nod in response and he's back to working quickly, he swipes easily at his own clothes, unleashing his cock that— unbeknownst to you— has grown bigger than it usually is. it points upwards with a shiny tip as precum drips off of it and trails down the veins of his member. it's raging and throbbing and jake wastes no time and plunges into your cunt without warning. your body naturally arches against him and a gasp breaks through your lips as he pumps his cock into you.

"fuck—" you moan out, fingers scratching against the hardwood floor of the room.

"that's it, baby— take that fuckin' dick. take all of it like a good girl, c'mon." jake says, slapping your ass.

his pace is ruthless, each thrusts leaves you breathless and dripping for more— the slickness between your legs coats everything it touches and it makes jake's cock slide in and out of you with ease even when you clench and tighten around him.

"pussy was made for me, wasn't she. bet you never thought your boyfriend was a wolf, did you dumb girl?" he pushes in deep with a heavy thrust that pushes the both of you forward and flat against the ground. one of jake's hands finds itself around your neck as the other continues gripping your waist so that you're just where he wants— pumping into you from behind and beneath him with no where to run.

"doing so good for me, baby. see, nothing to be scared of, just your lovely— fuck! —your lovely boyfriend who needs his sweet girl." he growls into your ear before he parts his mouth and begins to nibble and bite at the crook of your neck. his sharp teeth doesn't plunge deep into your flesh but enough that it breaks the skin and small beads of blood get lapped up by jake's large tongue. he moans against your skin at the taste of you on his tongue— making his pace even faster and harder than it already was.

"you're all mine— all mine. all mine. just mine– fuck!" he grunts as he pounds into your cunt even more that you feel a large stretch of your cunt as he pushes further inside of you. "there it is— so fucking perfect and all mine." jake says as he pulls himself up right and grabs your hips with both hands to get a steadier pace.

his thighs slap against the flesh of your ass with wetness coating the both of you— his balls slap your clit with each thrust, and his despite him trying to steady his pace his thrusts only get more and more sloppy and feral like he's falling apart being so far inside of your pussy.

jake falls forward again as he continues to fuck into you from behind. he begins lapping at your neck once more even though the blood has stopped dripping from where he's bitten and marked you. he didn't care— your sweat and the natural taste of your skin was delicious enough that he could come just from smelling you.

"shit— you feel so fucking good, baby. so good for me— my perfect perfect girl." he says as he wraps his arms around your waist causing you to arch your back even further. jake places his full weight on top of you, breathing in every part of your body as he sniffs and licks at you— "jake– fuck! m'gonna cu– cum..!" you whimper beneath him as your face is pressed against the floor.

"yeah? you wanna come for me baby? cum all over this cock and maybe i'll fill you up, hmm? you'd like that wouldn't you? be full of my cum so that everyone knows you're mine and only mine. you'll smell just like me and anyone who looks at you will see the way you glow with my kids inside you— fuck! cum for me right now, baby. do it."

jake bites down on your neck again and you cum at the same time— heat rushing through your body as his hips snap against your body, tip pushing against your gummy and velvet walls, clenching around jake that drives him closer and closer to the edge as you continue to soak him in your sweet juices.

"gonna fuckin' fill you up with my pups— so many wolf babies running 'round here. make us a big and happy family— fuck!" jake shuts his eyes to hold out a little bit longer so he can continue to savor the overwhelming amount of pleasure that is the oasis of your pussy walls fluttering against his cock with each thrust but it's too good to not let go. "imma fill you up, baby. breed you so fuckin' full of me— then i wanna see it drip out of you. fuck im cumming— shit!" his thrusts become sloppy again as he loses control, hands remaining tightly gripping your hips as he presses further into your arch, jake's cock wedged so far into your cunt that it knocks the air out of your lungs.

"fuck. fuck. fuck." he says with a few last heavy thrusts. you can feel the way his cock throbs with each thrust as jake pumps more of his hot cum inside of you like it's his sole purpose— and to him, it is.

the two of you are left breathless, jake collapsing on top of you with a huff, mouth finding your neck again as he licks at the same spot he's been working on since he got his hands you— surely leaving a mark that you'll have to work about covering after.

"i love you— so much." he says in a dazed like state.

you whimper beneath, wiggling against his body and the sensations sends a shockwave through both of your bodies.

"love you too, jakey.." you whisper as he continues to lick your neck and place soft kisses on where he's marked you.

"you're the only girl i've ever loved— and the only girl who could ever take all of me." he confesses with a soft smile that earns him a smile of your own. "i wouldn't want it any other way." you say as your eyes flutter shut.

━━━━⊱ " so… you're a werewolf?" you ask as you accept the hot bowl of soup that jake hands over to you from the care package of goods and food you had brought over.

"no, baby. i'm part wolf— like a hybrid." he explains, taking a seat next to you with a bowl of his own.

"okay— okay… i think i get it." you say while nodding.

"it's okay if you don't— all that matters to me is that you're with me anyway. you'll get it eventually." he says while reaching over and blowing onto your soup to cool it down.

"no— i get it. trust me. i just… it's all so new to me." you respond and there's a beat of silence between the two of you when your eyes lock onto one another. it's several hours after the blood moon lunar eclipse and the red that washed over the city from the sky has now faded away into a soft darkness. jake has returned to his usual 'human' self and the two of you have come down from your highs from earlier— after a few more rounds of course.

"i'm not gonna lie i thought when you were hiding that room and i had walked into it that it was going to be some kind of bdsm torture room like in 50 shades of grey.. turns out my boyfriend's just part… wolf. go figure." you say with a chuckle as you scoop a spoonful of soup into your mouth. jake laughs along with you as he mirrors your actions, as he eats a spoon of soup as well.

"you'd like that wouldn't you." he taunts, raising his brows at you as he laughs now that he knows how much you like being at his disposal, vulnerable and spread out for him while your body lays beneath his under his control.

"maybe—" you say before setting down your bowl of soup, jake's eyes watching as you crawl closer to him across the couch.

"or maybe i wanna get a collar for my little puppy— you'd like that. wouldn't you?" you say as you tilt your head with a smirk, causing jake to swallow the lump in your throat at the sudden shift in your demeanor.

"i asked you a question, jakey— you'd like that, wouldn't you?" you ask once more, grabbing his chin with your fingers and nodding his head for him as he swallows down the lump in his throat.

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ❤︎ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @firstclassjaylee @kristynaaah @17ericas @heeseung64 @s1rawb3rry @ddeonuswife @orxngebloods @xylatox @saccharinezennie @yooonjnng @lookingforsnacks @smollbean42905 @intromortal @taesnumber1 @noirxraa @ikeu05 @delma-x @ardlolic @softblaqn @seungsoftly @vatterie @ilovhoonie @parkedsunghoon1009 @l4nnisworld

beyond the latticed screen, the priest listens, his fingers loosely intertwined over his lap.

“it has been… um, nine years since my last confession.”

a pause. followed with an exhale of breath. there’s an unspoken weight presses against the confessional wood. “...i have done something atrocious.”

the priest shifts slightly on his chair, his cassock brushes against the seat. the rain patters against the window of the church outside—incense lingers in the air, curling in the candlelight inside. 

“go on, my son.”

the silence that follows is thick which is to be expected—he remains still, accustomed to the hesitant silence that often accompanies the words. the act of confessing is not easy. sometimes, sins cling too tightly to the tongue.

a distance echo of footsteps and doors creaking in the nave can be heard from inside the confessional. the weight of sinning is like having a wet cloth covering the face and the breathing passage—waterboarding. it’s torture, heavy, clinging, suffocating. if one is not strong enough, they might as well face death. 

some hesitate out of shame, others out of fear. and some… out of something else entirely. it is a moment where one wrestles between shame and salvation, between judgement and absolution. 

the priest does not rush him.

whatever it is, what happens between the penitent and the priest—stays between the penitent and the priest. no matter how awful the sins are.

“i took something that was not mine,” the voice from the other side of the screen continues. slightly wavering, quieter, contrition. the priest only exhales, nodding slightly to himself. he has heard a lot throughout his 39 years of being a priest—all seven deadly sins, theft, dishonesty, murder. 

“i took her life.”

the words fall like a stone into deep water. sinking, then disappearing into nothing. the priest’s breath catches for the slightest briefest second, but he remains still on his chair. he nods, brushing his thumb against his crucifix. 

he is merely a servant of god. it is not his place to react—only to listen. he’s bound by the seal of confession. 

but something feels wrong. something in the way the confessioner talks and about the way the words settle in the quiet. 

something about the confession itself. 

something familiar. 

——

“yn! what did i say about coming home before it rains?” 

you stood by the doorstep, fingers hooked on your skirt, lifting it up slightly as the ends were dipped in mud and dirt. the drizzle outside had turned the dirt roads slick, your shoes coated in earth. 

“sorry… i lost track of time,” you mumbled, lips pursed out of guilt, shifting your weight between your feet. 

your father only exhaled through his nose, shaking his head in disappointment—somewhere between exasperation and amusement. he wasn’t strict, not particularly, but there was always a softness in his scolding. like he didn’t have it in him to be harsh with you. not his only daughter and child.

“come in before you catch a cold.” he stepped aside, letting you pass as he glanced toward the darkening sky. you nodded with a smile, kicking off your filthy shoes by the entrance. the scent of rain clung to you like a perfume. “you didn’t bring an umbrella either?”

you grinned sheepishly, shrugging as you took off your cardigan and socks. “it wasn’t raining when i left.”

he sighed again, but there was a hint of a smile as he closed the door behind him. “obviously not. rain doesn’t come announced.” 

you only hummed in response—biting your tongue back from saying something like, ‘but it’ll be colder and the clouds will look darker and heavy and and—’, only stepping onto the wooden floors barefoot. 

the house was quiet—just as it always was ever since the passing of your mother five years ago. it wasn’t as lonely anymore, not exactly at least. not on the days where it hits close to the bones. 

your father disappeared into the kitchen to put the kettle on. you heard him humming something from his nose. most likely to brew warm tea to increase your body temperature. 

you turned slightly, peeking out the small window near the door. the street outside was empty, the rain falling against the cobblestone path. “dad?” you called out, shutting the curtains. 

he hummed in response, not looking your way. you unlatched your watch, along with your mother’s bracelet, and your crucifix before placing them neatly on the console table. you made your way towards the dining table where it oversees the kitchen. from here, you could see him stirring the sugar in the tea, his back facing you.  “um, did…” you spoke out, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. 

“did jaeyun come by?” 

for a moment, there was only silence before he turned his head, looking at you over his shoulder. his eyebrows raised slightly in curiosity and confusion. “no, why?” he asked. you were quick to shake your head, a smile formed on your lips. “nothing,” you replied, turning around to head upstairs.

“i’m going to shower!” 

——

jake stood outside of your house. it’s a friday morning, school day. school day and you hadn’t shown up.

he knew because he had waited for you. jake sat in his usual spot—by the bike racks—waiting for the familiar sound of your tires against the pavement. initially he told himself you were just running late and if he waited a couple of minutes more, he’d see you parking half-heartedly and sprinting to class. then the first period passed. and jake too, was running late.

by the third period, an uneasy curl creeped in his stomach. 

and so, here he was, standing just outside the little gate of your house, hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. 

through the window, he could see the faint flicker of movement as he called your name out. then, he saw from the very corner of the curtain, your eye peeking—then the curtain fell back into place. 

his brows furrowed together in confusion and annoyance. why weren’t you answering him? he knew you were inside of the house because he just saw you! his fingers curled around the wooden gate. “yn!” 

no answer. 

“yn!”

still nothing. 

his eyebrows furrowed, a gust of betrayal and hurt splashed across his face. 

——

your father placed the rotisserie chicken in the middle of the dining table, the scent of garlic and rosemary thick in the warm air. the chicken skin was golden and crisp—your grandma’s recipe—it was a meal meant to comfort.

but you weren’t really hungry.

you sat stiffly, hands folded in your lap as you stared at the flickering candlelight. your father’s eyebrow raised as he took off the oven mitts and set it aside, pulling back his chair and taking a seat across you. 

“what’s wrong?” he asked, nodding toward your untouched plate. “i made your favourite today, sweetheart.” he continued as he scooped a spoonful of buttered peas onto your plate. 

you purse your lips, hunching your shoulders slightly. “i’m… just not hungry…” you murmured, shaking your head. your father’s brows knitted, concern flickering behind his eyes. he set the spoon down gently, soft clink of metal against the ceramic plate. 

he sighed, watching you for a long moment before turning back to his plate. “...alright,” he relented. there’s no use in forcing a daughter to speak out if she doesn’t feel like it, he thought. he knew you, if something was bothering, he’d be the first to know. “you know you can tell me, right?” 

he poked at the cooling rice, appetite drifting. five years—and the chair across from his still felt too empty some nights. he knew he’d never be her—never have her soft voice or the way she could scare monsters under the bed—but he’d been trying. 

god, he’d been trying.

so your father learned to braid your hair on school mornings even though his thick fingers fumbled the strands and the parts came out crooked. he kept purchasing and using the same laundry smelling like his wife’s favourite fabric softener because you once said it made the house feel less scary.

he asked about cramps when you got that sour look, left chocolate and marshmallows and a heating pad on your bed without a word, pretended it was stuff all houses had—even though he bought it just for you.

there’s nothing that could ever replace your mother. he wasn’t trying to. your father just wanted to be the one who didn’t let the house turn cold just because she was gone.

you nodded automatically, flashing him a smile. “of course.” 

but you didn’t say anything else. 

you kept your gaze lowered and fork pushing the peas around your plate. you couldn’t bring yourself to tell your father anything about jaeyun. even the thought of the boy who you used to be comfortable with, now not so anymore made your throat tight, and stomach twist. 

it’s these moments that you missed your mother a little bit more than the rest of the days.

“...i’ll wrap up your plate,” your father said, breaking the silence and your thoughts. “you can eat later when you feel like it.” he continued, standing up to pick your plate up to put it in the fridge. 

you’re met with the sight of the windows, half-concealed by the sheer curtains. outside, you could see the streetlamps flickering and people walking home from their jobs. 

“make sure to eat, okay?” 

you nodded. but you didn’t say anything else.

——

“you need to stop it! leave me alone!” 

your voice came out sharper than intended, but you couldn’t care less anymore. the evening air was cold against your skin, but the fear curling in your stomach burned hotter. 

jake stood just a few steps away from you, his hands in his jacket pockets. his expression was unreadable. “you don’t mean that,” he said quietly. 

your heart pounded against your ribs; you took a step back, gripping the strap of your bag tighter. the street stretched empty and dark. there was no passing car nor people around, not even the squirrels or the rabbits.

“i do,” you shot back, eyebrows pulled closer in annoyance and anger. “i don’t want you waiting for me. i don’t want you outside of my house. i don’t want—” 

“you don’t want me?”

what? you were taken aback slightly. that was what he got? your breath hitched slightly as your steps came to a stop. 

“i—”

jake took a step forward, and instinctively, you moved back. his lips twitched—not quite a frown, nor a smile. “but you used to like me,” he murmured, cocking his head to the side slightly.

you clenched your jaw, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i never—”

he cuts you off. “i used to walk you home.” he replied, shifting on his weight. “you never told me to stop then.”

“...that was different,”

“how?”

his voice was almost soft, like he was genuinely curious. like he really didn’t understand—or grasp it—why everything had changed. 

you shook your head, turning away. “just—just stay away from me.” you murmured quickly, your breathing uneven, 

you barely took two steps before jake’s hand shot out, fingers closing around your wrist. just enough to make you freeze on your tracks. “jake—”

“why did you stop talking to me?” he asked, grip tightening ever so slightly. “why did you hide from me? i saw you peeking through your curtains the other day, but you never opened the door.” 

your pulse hammered against your skin. “i—i just need some space,” you forced out, voice started shaking. jake was quiet for a moment, but his grip didn’t loosen around the curve of your wrist. the two of you simply stared at each other. 

the sun was slowly setting behind him, casting golden streaks against the ground as his shadow stretched—that you could barely see him.

“space?” jake repeated, his voice so soft you thought it’d get carried away with the wind. you parted your lips to say something, but no words came out. his fingers remained firm around your wrist, still. 

above, the dark clouds rolled in, swallowing the remaining little light left behind. you felt the temperature drop, if you could pay attention, you’d smell petrichor—but no, you were too occupied trying to calm your breathing and your heart beat hammering against your ribcage.

it’s going to rain and you need to get back home.

it’s going to rain and you don’t have an umbrella with you—

it’s going to rain and dad is going to get really really mad—and he’ll say something like, didn’t i tell you to bring an umbrella before going out?

you need to go home but jake wasn’t letting go. 

“i don’t like it when you avoid me,”

you need to go home.

——

“yn?” 

your father had just woken from his nap.

the house was too quiet for his liking. he didn’t hear the soft murmur of the television or the plates clanking in the kitchen—in fact, the dinner he had prepared for you was still left untouched and covered on the dining table. only the soft ticking of the clock accompanied the heavy patter of rain against the window. downstairs was only lit up by the dim candlelight he left ignited. 

he rubbed a hand over his tired face. he hadn’t meant to doze off. glancing up on the second floor, he thought you had fallen asleep as well but when called you down, there was no response. so you weren’t upstairs either.

you weren’t in the bathroom, nor in the laundry room folding clothes. matter of fact, you weren’t anywhere in the house. 

his brows furrowed. he glanced at the clock—21:48.

stepping towards the doorway, your father glanced at the console table by the entrance. your watch, his wife’s bracelet that she had given to you, and your crucifix—none of them were there. 

call it a father’s instinct, but an uneasy feeling settled in his chest.

he walked towards the window, parting the curtains slightly in hopes that he’d see you napping or taking cover on the porch—maybe you’d left your keys before going out. 

but no, you weren’t outside either.

the trees swayed with the wind and the rain had picked up. he noticed your umbrella resting against the rocking chair outside. his finger gripped the voile. you should’ve been home by now. 

hours ago. 

a sigh left his lips as he turned towards the telephone, dialing your number. the first ring echoed through the house. then came the second, followed by the third. each tone stretched longer than it should’ve been for you to pick up. he closed his eyes as his grip on the receiver tightened. please pick up, sweetheart, the fourth and the fifth ring passed before the call was disconnected. 

with each unanswered tone, his breath grew a little bit tighter, his pulse just a little bit heavier. 

he tried again for the second and the third time, but it was all the same. voicemail, voicemail, voicemail. 

it was unlike his daughter to do so—you had always been good about checking in and letting him know your whereabouts. maybe you lost track of time again, and decided to stay at your friend’s house while waiting for the rain to subside. 

your father clicked his tongue before shaking his head as he dialed in your friend’s house number. just checking in—making sure. just to ease his heart. it took about four rings before the call was picked up. 

“hello?”

your father let out a sigh of relief—not yet, but at least… “hi, uh this is giselle, right?” 

“oh, yn’s dad! yeah, what’s wrong?” she answered, her voice light and slightly confused.

“sorry to call so late. yn said she was at your house earlier, and i just wanted to check if she’s still there.” 

a pause. then, a short almost imperceptible silence. 

“oh uhm,” giselle filled, pausing. “she left a while ago.. like…at 5, i think…? she said she was heading straight home when she noticed the skies were getting dark.” her voice slowly went quieter and softer. there was hesitation and uncertainty in her voice.

something cold crawled up in his spine. he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall—21:57

that was almost five hours ago. five hours ago since you should’ve been home.

there was a slight rustling on the other end, like giselle was shifting the phone against her ear. “did… did she not make it home yet?” she asked.

he didn’t answer right away, glancing at the door instinctively like he’d find you swinging open the door, drenched in rain and immediately running to him to apologise for not bringing your umbrella and that you’ll never do it again.

but the house was still empty. 

“she’s… not home yet,” he admitted, his voice coming out softer than he’d intended. he didn’t want to make your poor friend concerned. “oh… do you want me to try calling her?” 

your father had to force a small chuckle out of him that didn’t reach his chest. “that’s alright. i’ll try again. maybe she stopped somewhere to wait out the rain.” he rubbed the back of his neck uneasily, trying to ignore the feeling stirring in his stomach.

“that’s okay, father. i’ll try calling her—maybe she’s afraid you’ll scold her.” giselle let out a small laugh in hopes it’d ease the tension. the corner of his mouth twitching in something that might’ve been a smile on a better day. just not today. not now. maybe when you’re home; he’ll tell you what giselle said earlier and the two of you will share a laugh together. 

but not now.

now you were unreachable and weren’t home.

“...thank you, giselle.” he said, though the unease in his chest remained. the call ended shortly after that. your father let the receiver rest against his palm for a second too long, his thumb absentmindedly tracing the spiral cord. 

he blinked before dialing your number one last time—please pick up, yn.

it went straight to voicemail again. 

without a second thought, he grabbed his coat and his umbrella before stepping outside, the rain was coming down in heavy sheets. he brought your umbrella along too—just incase he found you sheltering under the bus stop or something. 

your father prayed you’re fine.

——

“is it yn’s birthday today?” 

a voice, soft and cautious, spoke from behind. 

your father exhaled, letting his fingers tighten briefly around the rosary between his hands. “yes,” he murmured, eyes still shut. he was kneeling at the front pew, fingers interlaced together in silent prayer. his lips moved in quiet reverence meant only for god to listen.

he had prayed like this every year.

seven years now.

seven birthdays without you. 

“would she have been twenty-six now?”

“twenty-five,” he fluttered his eyes open, his gaze fixed on the altar. his voice held distant—the numbers being your age felt foreign on his tongue. it belonged to a life that never came to be. 

there was no grave to visit. no headstones to kneel before and cry on. no place to leave flowers except here, at the feet of the cross, where your father found himself more often than not. no body buried six-feet underneath. 

your father wasn’t sure which would he prefer—a body, although lifeless and cold, but yours nonetheless. something he could hold, bury, and grieve over properly. if there was a body, there was at least you. there was at least a place for him to visit and pray over. a grave would mean an ending. a painful one sure, one where he knows he would never get over—but an ending, still.

or—nothing. an absence that stretched across the years and gnawing at his faith and sanity. no body meant no closure. nothing to hold, no confirmation. it meant waking up every morning to the same unanswered question, the same torment of thoughts. but it also meant a possibility. however faint and irrational—what if you were still out there? just a little bit older and mature, maybe taller and wiser too. but still your father’s little girl. 

what if you were still alive? somewhere, walking this earth, watching the same stars? 

would things be different if he hadn’t dozed off that night? or had it always been written that you would go through it?

“you’re a strong man, father. she will be very proud of you.” 

there were rumours circulating after your disappearance was made public—your father has heard it himself. although no one was ever bold enough to come up and ask him for corroboration. stories floated around the small town that you had left with a lover—one that your father didn’t approve of—. that you had grown tired of the life of being a priest’s daughter where your freedom was restricted. 

some even whispered that you had followed your mother to heaven—not by chance, but by choice.

a softer, kinder way to call it a suicide.

he never once entertained or acknowledged the silent murmurs slithering. your father had made sure that you were always happy being his daughter—he always kept his ears open to hear your rants and gossips despite it being a sin and destructive. 

as for the lover—no, the rumour was ridiculous, laughable almost. you would never. secrecy could only go so far, and he believed you would never hide something as crucial as a secret lover.

but when he heard that his own daughter had gone over his wife. that—he couldn’t help but to wonder if it was true. before your disappearance, he noticed your gaze lingering a few minutes too long on your mother’s portrait. sometimes you’d tell him that you missed mom, and that if she was here, things would’ve been different. he shrugged it off thinking it was just grief visiting on a random tuesday, but now, he wished he had paid more attention to it.

“yeah,” he murmured, shoulders relaxing, thumb absentmindedly brushing over the rosary. “i have to be strong for her.” 

faith did not erase grief. it only softened its edges and made it bearable for him to live another day for you. slowly, he started praying not only for answers, but peace. 

——

“i really didn’t mean to kill her,”

the priest says nothing. a silence gesture for continuation. 

“it just… happened. we were young, i was angry, she was… stubborn,” the penitent continues. there’s something about the way it’s said that it’s almost thoughtful and regretful. but not quite. the priest wonders who—and what happened—and when…?

“i was angry,” he admits. “she—” he then pauses. “she shouldn’t have done that to me.” 

the priest exhales through his nose. the topic of death, murder, youngsters—they don’t sit right on his chest for what he was put through. but he was ordained—and so, here he is. like it or not, he’s doing this for god. this has nothing to do with himself.

“i just wanted to teach her a little bit but she got—,” the penitent’s breath hitched, and the priest hears him shifting against the wooden bench. “she started gasping—like she couldn’t breathe. she started clawing at her throat, searching for something—her inhaler, i believe, but she couldn’t find it. and then i saw—”

the priest’s fingers curl over the stole in his lap. couldn’t breathe—? inhaler? the victim had asthma or some sort? if it was asthma then you too—

“—a light. a torch or something. someone was coming.” 

the priest’s heart begins to pound. so loud he hopes it doesn’t echo in the small room. he wills to stay quiet, stay still, and listens.

“she was making too much noise, she cried for her dad and then her mom, and then god, and then her dad again,” the voice on the other side of the screen continues, lower now, as if he’s speaking to himself. “if they saw us… if they saw me…” a ragged exhale. 

the priest’s adam’s apple bob with a swallow, but he says nothing. he’s a dad too. 

a silence stretches between them. 

dad. she cried for her dad.

he was a father before he was a priest. 

before he was a shepherd, before he was communicated, he had cradled the precious gift from god—you, kissed your scraped knees and combed through your tangled hair. before anything, he was your father before anyone else’s. 

this girl—the victim—had called for her dad too.

in one of his sleepless nights, he wonders—what happened to you that rainy night. were you afraid? called his name like this girl did to her dad? 

he prayed for your safety throughout these seven years of your disappearance—yet, sitting just infront of him, divided by a screen…

“i covered her mouth, just for a second. just until they passed and then i was going to let her go,” 

the weight of the past sits heavy on his chest. the priest has to swallow the ache rising in his throat. the grief swelling is beginning to enter his lungs—and turn it into tears. 

“but she was already gasping and struggling,” the penitent murmurs. “i thought she’d calm down because she stopped moving. i really thought—” a shaky inhale. “when i removed my hands, she just stopped. like entirely. stopped.” 

the candle in the priest’s side of the room flickers and casts shifting shadows through the lattice screen. “...and what is it that you seek, child?” he steadies his voice as hard as he can. in the seal of confession, he cannot ask the penitent to turn himself in. 

“absolution,”

the priest closes his eyes for a moment. the word feels like it’s directed more to himself rather than god—but he might be overthinking it. how many times had trembling voices sought the mercy of god through him?

he’s not a god, he’s merely a servant. a representative. he absolves sins—god forgives.

“god’s mercy is endless. so long you restitute.” 

..

“even if i rape?” 

not the first he had ever heard, but still.

“...the lord welcomes all who truly repent,” he answers carefully. “if you are willing to make amends and to seek justice.” his thumb shakily brushes over his rosary on his lap. he does not know this man. he does not know the suffering he has caused and to whom. he does not know the name of the unfortunate girl who fell to his crime. 

he is not one to judge.

“yes. there’s always restitution if you believe that that's what's best for you.” the priest exhales slowly. he has reassured, guided, and believed in redemption. glancing at the small window in his room, the sky has transitioned to orange and red hues as the sun dips below the horizon—what time is it now?

“even if i murder?” 

there is a pause and a heavy weight lingers in the air between them as the penitent remains silent. the priest hears a shuffling, shifting of weight coming from the sinner. by the seal of the confessional he isn’t allowed to snitch, or anonymously tips the police about the identity of a murderer (not like he knows), but if he can get this man to turn himself in—he’d be doing a favour for the victim’s family.

“i’m sorry, father,” the penitent murmurs. so soft and so apologetic that it doesn’t sound like he’s seeking forgiveness or repentance from god. it sounds more like a farewell. 

personal.

the priest’s breath falters, his thumb stops brushing over his rosary. something cold curls around his ribs and it’s squeezing him tight. 

he’s not allowed to do this— “wait.” the word barely left his lips before he allows himself to. he hears the creak of shifting weight as the penitent moves to leave. the candle flickers wildly beside him as it casts the man’s shadow getting up on the other side of the latticed screen. 

“who are—” he reaches forward instinctively, not knowing why but hopes to grasp onto something. like a name of the victim that was murdered, when, a presence—is it his child? 

the priest’s fingers tightens around the wooden partition as he pushes the door to his side of the confessional, stepping into the dim chapel. the penitent’s door was already ajar and empty. gone. nothing that could even give the slightest hint for the priest to identify who was sitting across him just a few seconds ago.

everything’s empty, aside from a bracelet and white crucifix laying on the bench. 

one that belongs to you.

——

“jaeyun? where are you bringing me?” you asked, breath hitching as your shoes skidded over the damp forest floor. 

you tried to pull your hand back, but his grip around your wrist unwavered—if not only tightened— his nails digging into your skin like a warning. jake didn’t answer you as he just kept walking, dragging you deeper into the trees, where the light barely touched and the air grew colder. above, the sky darkened. 

your voice cracked, you felt your heartbeat picking up its pace. “jaeyun, please,”

then, he stopped.

he stopped abruptly that the sudden halt made you stumble slightly on your feet, your shoulder knocking against his back. for a second, there was only the sound of wind through the branches, and the distant rumble of thunder rolling in.

“somewhere no one will find us,” he said, his voice soft as silk, soft as the gathering mist. “just for a little while, i need to tell you somethin’,” he murmured like a secret before turning to face you slowly. his eyes dark—much like the sky, heavy, waiting—under his locks. you blinked, not breaking eye contact despite your heart hammering in growing fear. “i—i need to go home. my dad—he’s going to be—”

he cuts you off, yanking you towards him. “don’t use your dad as an excuse, yn.” his voice was still low, but the softness was gone—replaced with something fraying at the edges. “you said you wanted space, i gave you space. i didn’t bother you and where did that get me? where did that get us?” he said through clenched teeth and tightened grip.

you opened your mouth but nothing came out. your throat tightened, tongue thickened and heavy.

the rain came heavier down, warm against your skin. you blinked once, twice—the water trailed down your rosy cheeks, catched on your chin. 

only when your breath stuttered that you realised it’s not the rain.

“i… i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you whispered, words barely audible over the thumping in your ears and the rustle of the wind and leaves, but jake heard them. for a second, his expression flickered into something uncertain. then it’s gone again.

“over and over. every time you ignored me like i was nothing,” he murmured, his grip unyielded, enough to make your pulse leap. “you’re going to have to repay me, yn.” jake’s eyes glinted under the gloomy sky. darker stirred behind them, colder than the wind and the damp air.

“doesn’t your dad teach you about replaying what’s owed?” he continued. his thumb brushed your wrist, almost tender, but nothing gentle at all. “do you think god’s mercy is just for you? because you’re a priest’s daughter?” 

his breath was shallow like he was talking to himself now, the words slipping out of his mouth without him realising how they were creeping into the air between the two of you, 

“you’ve got a debt to pay, yn. and if you won’t pay it willingly,” he paused, tilting his head to the side. “i guess i’ll just have to force the price out of you.”

despite your loud cries and waterworks, the thunder only rumbled louder and the rain kept falling. dread pooling at your feet. the chill had nothing to do with the weather.

god truly didn’t give you any mercy that night.

you find yourself staring off somewhere, maybe at the floor or the wall or your own hands, because how are you supposed to explain something that feels so soft and so loud at the same time? how do you put into words the way sunoo is always there to cheer you up, the way jungwon looks at you like you're someone he trusts with his whole heart, the way ni-ki acts like he doesn't care but somehow always ends up right by your side?

as crazy as they can be, just like their hyungs, you're proud to say they're your babies. your boys. and nothing in this world could ever make you love them any less than you how love the older members. if anything, being their noona makes your heart stretch in a different way making it ache and warm all at once.

to you, you are their one and only favourite and only noona in the group, and you say that with your whole chest. they might tease you, they might drive you insane, but they're so openly affectionate and caring that anyone who says otherwise is lying. sunoo clings to you like it's second nature, jungwon listens to you like every word you say matters, and ni-ki, despite all his nonchalantness, always finds a way to show that he cares.

so eventually, when people keep pressing for an answer, you smile and tell them the truth.

you tell them they're your babies. little boys who love towering over you just to make a point, who give you migraines with their endless energy, who whine into your ears every five seconds about something ridiculous or dramatic or both. little boys who poke at you, tease you, and look at you with mischievous grins like they know exactly how much power they have over you. because according to them, who else are they supposed to lovingly tease?

you may have your ups and downs with them, but at the end of the day you always know how much you mean to each other in ways that don't need to be said out loud. it's in the way they look for you in a room, in the way they call your name when something goes wrong, in the way they still come running to you even when they're pretending they don't need you.

nothing is worth more than your friendships with them.

not the fame, not the noise, not the hecticness that comes with being who you all are. because when everything else falls away, it's still you and them, still your laughter echoing through the dorm, still their voices whining and teasing and yelling "noona!" like it's the most important word they know. and you wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

you were tucked into one of the corners of the practice room, the cool wooden floor pressing against your palms as you stretched your legs out wide in front of you. you leaned forward slowly, reaching for your toes, feeling the familiar pull along your thighs as you tried to warm your body up for the intense dance practice that was about to begin. the mirrors reflected everything back at you, the bright lights overhead, the scuffed floor, and all of the boys scattered across the room.

some of them were still stretching, quietly focused, while others were already goofing around, laughing and nudging each other like they always did before practice officially started. their voices filled the space in a way that was comforting but also a little overwhelming, especially with the way your thoughts were spiralling today.

you were nervous.

yesterday's practice had been rough, at least in your head. the choreography had been tricky, full of sharp transitions and fast footwork, and even though everyone had made mistakes, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were the only one really struggling. you remembered the way your feet hesitated, the way your mind blanked out on certain counts, and how you had fallen just a little out of sync more than once. the choreography teacher had reassured you, telling you it was fine, that everyone was learning and messing up, but insecurities have a way of ignoring logic.

you reached a little farther toward your toes, a small frown on your face as you held the stretch. you didn't want to be the reason practice slowed down today, nor did you want to be the one holding everyone back, and the idea of it made your chest feel heavy, like there was something pressing down on you from the inside.

you glanced around the room, watching the others move so easily, so confidently, and that familiar thought crept in again, quiet but cruel.

you let out a small breath, trying to shake it off, but it clung to you anyway, settling somewhere deep in your mind.

curse your insecurities, you thought bitterly.

as you were leaning up from your stretching position still distracted by your own thoughts, you suddenly felt something lightly flick your forehead. you blinked in surprise at the sharp little sensation and looked up, only to find ni-ki standing right in front of you. his hands were tucked lazily into the pockets of his loose sweatpants, his hoodie pulled over his head in that way that always made him look a little too comfortable, a little too mischievous. he tilted his head as he looked down at you, eyes curious in that relaxed, observant way of his.

"what's with that ugly frown?" he asked, voice casual but teasing.

you scoffed, immediately looking away as you brought a hand up to rub your forehead, more to hide yourself than anything else as you continued stretching. "i'm not frowning." you muttered under your breath, stubborn and quiet.

ni-ki didn't move. he just stayed there, standing over you watching. after a moment he pulled one hand out of his pocket and gently tugged at your hair, not enough to hurt, just enough to get your attention. "you were frowning. don't lie."

you swatted his hand away, choosing to ignore him even though now the frown on your face was obvious. you were too worried, too lost in your own head to even try hiding it anymore.

ni-ki studied you for a few more seconds, his gaze lingering on your face before he moved. you watched him step around and come to stand directly in front of you, nudging your legs a wider apart with his foot and then lowering himself down onto the floor, sitting right in front of you and opening his legs to mirror your stretching position.

he held his hands out toward you, palms open and waiting.

you looked at him warily before letting out a small reserved sigh. you reached forward and took his hands, letting him pull you gently closer so you could continue stretching, even though what he was really doing was pulling you back out of your own head, just a little.

for a few minutes the two of you stayed like that, quietly helping each other stretch. you took turns leaning back and pulling each other forward by the hands, the slow rhythm of it almost calming, like a small routine that existed just between you. the sounds of the rest of the room faded into the background, the laughter and footsteps and music tests becoming distant, replaced by the steady feeling of ni-ki's grip and the gentle pull in your muscles.

the maknae's eyes never left your face. he watched you carefully, the way your brows stayed knit together, the way your lips were pressed into a thin line, and the way you didn't look up even once. meanwhile, you kept your gaze fixed on the ground in front of you, staring at the floor like it held all the answers, trying not to think too hard about everything weighing on your mind.

it was quiet between you, but it wasn't empty. it was full of all the things you weren't saying.

after a few more silent stretches, ni-ki finally spoke up, his tone light but pointed. "are you gonna let that frown pay rent on your face or what?"

you immediately let go of his hands and shot him a glare, your eyes finally lifting to meet his. "i'm not in the mood right now." you muttered lowly, irritation slipping into your voice.

he only smiled at you, wide and a little smug, clearly pleased that he'd finally gotten you to look at him. he nudged one of his stretched-out feet against yours and leaned forward, crossing his arms loosely over his knees. his voice dropped, softer now, more serious as he called out to you. "noona, what's wrong?"

your furrowed brows slowly relaxed, the tension in your face easing just a little as you looked away from him. your eyes drifted to where sunghoon had sunoo trapped in a loose chokehold a few feet away, sunoo loudly yelling curses and struggling while jungwon laughed nearby, a dramatic and familiar scene.

you finally let your shoulders slump. "i'm just… nervous about messing up today's practice."

he glanced back at the others before returning his attention to you, his eyes sharp and observant like they always were, and sometimes you really couldn't tell if that was a blessing or a curse. "what do you mean?"

you shrugged, looking down at the space between the two of you again, fiddling with your fingers. "i dunno. i just… really sucked at practice yesterday. 'm scared today's gonna be the same and we're gonna fall behind 'cause of me…"

you looked up briefly and saw the confused look on his face. "noona, we all were messing up yesterday."

"yeah," you replied quietly, "but, i was a bit more…"

ni-ki shook his head as you trailed off, leaning forward just to flick your forehead again. you yelped, instantly bringing a hand up. "stop that."

"listen," he cut in, his tone firm but not unkind. "it's practice. it's okay if you mess up. that's literally why we have it in the first place. and honestly i'm kind of relieved you forgot, but you seem to be forgetting that i literally tripped and fell on my ass yesterday. totally uncool, i know."

his lips twitched with a small grin before he continued, eyes steady on yours. "but you gotta stop thinking about yourself like that. none of us think you did worse than us or anything. i mean, look at me. i'm a dancing machine, but i didn't just become that in one day, right?"

you didn't answer him. instead, you just kept frowning at the floor, staring down at the wooden panels like they were somehow responsible for how you were feeling. ni-ki noticed and a soft laugh slipped out of him at the sight.

"sigh, so stubborn." he tutted.

he was already moving before you had any ideas of deepening your frown, stepping around to stand behind you and suddenly feeling his hands slide underneath your arms, and with an effortless lift, he pulled you up off the floor. "hey—" you started surprised, but he was already setting you back down on your feet.

he moved to stand beside you and slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer to him, a familiar action. you could feel the warmth of him there, solid and grounding, and it made it harder to stay curled up inside your own worries.

"come onnnnn noona." he said, poking at your cheek, then your side, then your arm, clearly determined. "smile. you look scary like this."

you tried to stay serious, but he kept prodding and nudging you, teasing you in that annoying affectionate way that only he could get away with. you finally caved when he nudged his hips against yours, the unexpected contact making you stumble just a little. "hey." but he was already grinning.

"if you're really that worried," he said, voice lighter now, "i'll help you with the moves today."

you turned your head to give him a slow side-eye, suspicion written all over your face. "hmm? no ulterior motive behind your oh-so-generous offer?"

ni-ki snorted, stepping in front of you and throwing his arms wide like he was presenting himself on a stage. "i'm always this nice." he declares.

you rolled your eyes and bumped your shoulder into his, shoving him playfully. "alright... thanks." the heaviness in your chest slowly making its way for something that relaxes your nerves.

not long after, the dance instructor finally walked in, clapping their hands together to get everyone's attention, and the room quickly shifted from playful chaos to focused energy. you and ni-ki still found little moments to poke and tease each other in between, quiet whispers and small nudges that made it easier to breathe through the nerves.

whenever you came across a move that felt just a little too fast or a little too complicated, ni-ki would immediately step in. he'd move beside you, mirroring your steps, gently correcting the angle of your arm or the timing of your foot with soft words and quick demonstrations. he never made you feel stupid for asking, never made a big deal out of it, just guided you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

slowly, without you even really realising it, your confidence started to grow. the more you practiced, the less your body hesitated, and the more the choreography began to flow. by the time the session was coming to an end, you found yourself hitting the moves cleanly, your muscles remembering what your mind had been so afraid to forget. when the instructor nodded in approval, something warm bloomed in your chest.

later, as everyone packed up their bags and headed back toward the van, you found yourself walking alongside ni-ki. the air was cooler now, the day winding down, and the nerves you’d started with felt so far away.

you glanced at him shyly before looking back at your feet. "hey… thanks again for helping me today."

he smirked at you in response, not even slowing down as he suddenly pulled you into a loose headlock. you yelped, hands immediately flying up to try and pry him off, while his laughter rang out loud and clear, mixing with your whining.

"don't mention it noona."

you and sunoo lay side by side on his bed, shoulders barely brushing, the soft hum of the dorm settling into the background around you. the lights were dimmed, his lamp casting a gentle glow across the ceiling, and both of you had fresh face masks carefully smoothed onto your skin — ones he had proudly announced he bought just for the two of you.

"limited edition." he had said earlier, dramatically waving the packet in your face. "only for people with elite visuals."

now you both lay flat on your backs above the covers, hands resting on your stomachs, staring up at the ceiling like you were contemplating the universe instead of waiting for skincare to soak in. the air smelled faintly of whatever floral essence the masks were infused with.

"okay." sunoo suddenly said, voice echoing slightly in the quiet room. "who's most likely to survive a zombie apocalypse?"

you didn't even hesitate. "ni-ki."

sunoo turned his head slightly toward you. "what? why?"

"he's fast. and scary. and he wouldn't hesitate to trip one of you to save himself."

sunoo gasped. "he would not."

you turned your head to look at him, laughing. "he absolutely would."

he burst into laughter, the sound muffled slightly by the mask. "okay, fine. but who's most likely to get caught first?"

you hummed thoughtfully. "jake."

"i totally agree."

"he'd try to make friends with the zombies."

sunoo laughed so hard the bed shook slightly beneath you. "he would. he'd be like, 'guys maybe they're misunderstood.'"

you giggled quietly, the sound softer now as the late hour began wrapping around you.

"who's most likely to cry during a horror movie?" he asked next.

you both answered at the same time.

"you." "you."

sunoo turned to scoff at you. "how dare you noona."

you smiled innocently at the ceiling. "you literally scream when someone knocks on the door too loudly."

"no i don't." he grumbled. "anyways... who's most likely to get married first?"

"jay." you answer confidentally.

sunoo hummed in agreement. "he gives stable husband energy."

"he does." you said solemnly.

the 'who's most likely to' slowly dissolves into completely random made-up scenarios, both of you staring at the ceiling like you're scripting a whole alternate universe for the group.

"okay." sunoo says suddenly, voice soft but dramatic as always, "imagine we're stranded on a deserted island. who becomes leader?"

"jungwon." you answer instantly. "he'd pretend he doesn't want it but then start assigning tasks."

sunoo snorts. "jay would argue about it."

"jay would absolutely argue about it." you agree. "he'd start building something out of bamboo just to prove he's capable."

"jake would try to comfort everyone." sunoo adds. "like 'guys it's okay, we'll make the best of it.'"

you grin. "sunghoon would just sit on a rock looking annoyed."

"he'd say the sand is ruining his shoes."

you both giggle.

"heeseng," sunoo continues, "would quietly collect coconuts and somehow be the most productive."

you hum. "and ni-ki would climb the tallest tree for no reason. and then refuse to come down and then complain that no one appreciates his survival skills."

sunoo laughs so hard he has to press a hand to his stomach.

there's a pause before he speaks again.

"okay, imagine we're in high school."

you groan lightly. "we are not doing this."

"we are absolutely doing this."

you sigh dramatically but comply anyway. "fine. jungwon is class president."

"obviously."

"jay would be in the debate club and would take it too seriously. heeseung is that quiet top student who doesn't even try but gets full marks."

sunoo nods enthusiastically. "sunghoon is the popular senior everyone's intimidated by. but actually he's just awkward."

"jake is on the soccer team and befriends literally everyone."

"ni-ki," sunoo says thoughtfully, "is the tall underclassman everyone's scared of at first. but he's actually just loud."

you both laugh again, your voices softer now, sleepier.

"what about us?" sunoo asks after a moment.

you giggle. "we'd be the ones gossiping in the back of class. sharing snacks and judging everyone."

the laughter fades slowly, like it doesn't want to leave.

for a while, neither of you say anything.

the ceiling suddenly feels… bigger.

"sunoo." you murmur softly.

"hmm?"

you keep your eyes on the blank white above you. "what do you think you'd be doing right now… if you weren't in enhypen?"

there's no teasing in your voice this time. no game. just quiet curiosity.

there's a long pause and you can almost hear him thinking.

"i think…" he starts slowly, "…i'd probably still try to do something creative. maybe theatre, or maybe i'd be one of those university students who joins every club possible."

you smile faintly. that sounds like him.

"you'd be popular." you say without hesitation.

he scoffs. "no."

"yes you would." you insist softly. "you'd be the student everyone likes but is slightly intimidated by."

"intimidated?" he gasps quietly. "me?"

"you know you have that aura."

he hums at that, not denying it.

"i think…" he continues, voice softer now, "maybe i would've even liked to own my own bakery or cafe. that sounds like fun. but... i don't think i'd have been as confident."

that makes you fully turn your head toward him. "what do you mean?"

he takes a breath. "being here. being in this group. performing, struggling together, it made me to grow in one of the best ways." he laughs lightly. "i don't think old me would recognize me now."

your chest tightens just a little. "i think he'd be proud." you say quietly.

the corners of sunoo's lips lift up slightly.

the room is quiet again.

"what about you?" he asks gently. "what would you be doing?"

you think about it.

"maybe something boring." you joke. "office job. nine to five."

"no way." he says immediately. "you'd never survive that."

you snort softly.

"you'd probably still find your way back to us somehow." he adds.

you glance at him. "that's not how life works."

"i don't care." he says simply. "i think some people are meant to meet."

your chest tightens at that.

you slowly turn your gaze back up to the ceiling, blinking at the faint shadow from the lamp outside filtering through the curtains. your throat suddenly feels dry.

"…sometimes." you begin, your voice quieter now, almost careful, "i wonder if there's a world out there where i'm not with you guys. like… a world where i never debuted with you, where we never crossed paths, where i don'’t know jungwon, or heeseung, or jay, or jake… or ni-ki.”'t know any of you boys."

your fingers curl slightly against the sheets.

"where would i be?" you whisper. "and where would you all be?"

you keep talking, almost like if you stop, the thought will get stuck inside you."

"maybe i'd be a fan,” you wonder. "saving up money for concerts. screaming in the crowd."

you try to smile a little. it doesn't quite reach.

"or maybe i'd just be some regular university student. too busy studying. too stressed about exams. not even paying attention."

sunoo's fingers twitch slightly against the blanket.

"maybe i'd walk past you guys one day." you continue softly, voice almost distant now. "on the street. or at a cafe. and you wouldn't even know who i am."

there's a lump in your throat.

"i wouldn't know anything about you, and you guys wouldn't knwo anything about me... and we'd just walk by."

you swallow.

"…that makes me sad."

sunoo shifts beside you.

"…i don't like this." he says quietly.

you swallow. "i'm just thinking."

"don't noona." he replies almost immediately.

you glance at him, surprised by the firmness in his tone.

his eyes are still on the ceiling, but his jaw has tightened slightly.

"why not?" you ask gently.

he exhales through his nose.

"because it sounds like you're imagining leaving."

your heart drops. "that's not what i—"

"it is." he interrupts softly, not harsh, just… vulnerable. "even if you don't mean it like that."

you didn't expect that.

you turn fully onto your side now, looking at him. his face mask has started peeling slightly near his chin, but he doesn't bother fixing it.

"sunoo," you murmur, "i'm not planning on disappearing."

he finally turns his head to look at you.

"then why think about it?"

there's something fragile in his eyes.

you hesitate. "because it scares me," you admit. "how much you all mean to me."

he goes quiet.

"if i never met you," you continue softly, "i wouldn't know what i was missing. but now that i do… imagining a world without you guys feels wrong. empty almost."

your voice cracks just a little at the end.

"it's not that i want it," you add quickly. "i just… sometimes i wonder how fragile everything is. how one decision could've changed it all."

sunoo stares at you for a long moment. then he sighs.

"i don't like fragile." he says.

you almost smile.

"me neither."

he shifts closer under the blanket without really thinking about it. your shoulders press more firmly together now.

"there isn't a world," he says quietly, "that i care about where you're not here."

your breath catches. "sunoo…"

"i mean it." he says, eyes steady on yours now as he peels off his mask now, you doing the same. "before debut, after debut, in another universe, whatever. if there's a version of me somewhere… i hope you're there too."

the firmness in his voice makes your chest ache.

"that's a big thing to wish for." you whisper weakly.

"maybe." he shrugs lightly. "but i don't like imagining us as strangers."

he hooks your pinky into his as he speaks, voice low and steady now.

"i'm sure i'd feel it," he says quietly. "the silence. like… even if we didn't know what was missing, we'd still feel something was off."

his thumb rubs gently over your knuckles.

"all of us probably would."

the room feels still around you, the distant hum of the dorm faint beyond the door.

"there's a reason we keep circling around the word 'fate' noona," he continues. "we don't say it lightly."

you know that. you've heard it in interviews, in late-night conversations, in the way the members look at each other when they talk about their journey.

it's not just a word to them, not something they use for aesthetics.

it's something they believe in.

sunoo glances at you again, softer now.

"we worked hard, we chose this. but it also feels like… we were guided here."

"like threads pulling us together." you murmur.

he nods. "yeah. and you're part of that thread."

the words settle deep in your chest.

"who's most likely to never leave each other alone?" he softly whispers this time, facing his ceiling.

you turned your head back to the ceiling, eyes watery as you squeeze your pinky with his.

"us."

sunoo smiled without even looking at you. "yeah." he says, squeezing your pinky back."

"us."

the dormitory air feels wrong.

it's not loud, nor is it warm like it usually is. instead it's heavy, thick with tension that settles into everyone's shoulders and makes even the smallest movement feel deliberate. no one is sitting close. no one is laughing. the space between each member feels wider than it actually is, like the room itself is trying to keep people apart.

and in the middle of it all, you and jungwon are standing in the living room, facing each other with raised voices.

you don't even remember how it started anymore.

it had begun on the way back from practice, maybe with a comment that was misunderstood, maybe with exhaustion making everything sharper than it needed to be. but by now, after minutes of back-and-forth, neither of you can trace the original spark. it feels like it dissolved into something bigger, something fueled by frustration and pride and the kind of stubbornness that only comes out when both of you care too much.

your voice echoes off the walls as you speak, hands gesturing without meaning to, your tone sharper than you intend. jungwon stands across from you, equally heated, his brows drawn tightly together, eyes focused on you in a way that feels intense and unyielding. neither of you backing down.

the others linger at the edges of the room, frozen in uncertainty. heeseung stands a little apart, jaw tense but expression carefully controlled, watching without interrupting. jay and jake exchange quick glances, clearly trying to figure out whether stepping in would help or make it worse. sunghoon's arms are crossed, eyes shifting between you and jungwon with quiet concern. ni-ki stands slightly behind him, unusually still, his usual energy replaced by a guarded silence. and sunoo's not sure his heart can handle all the yelling.

no one knows what to say.

the argument keeps building, your words overlapping with jungwon's, neither of you fully listening anymore. it's not just about the topic at this point, whatever it was. it's about being heard, being understood. about the frustration of feeling like something important slipped through the cracks.

your breathing is uneven. jungwon's is too.

and as the seconds stretch on, the rest of enhypen throw each other worried looks, silently asking what they should do, silently hoping this doesn't spiral further because they've seen disagreements before. they've seen stress and exhaustion and arguments born from pressure.

but this feels different. this feels close to something fragile. and right now, the only thing filling the dorm is the tension hanging in the air between you and jungwon, both of you standing your ground, neither willing to step back just yet.

jungwon's jaw is clenched so tightly the muscle ticks near his ear. his hands are rigid at his sides, fingers flexing like he's physically holding himself back. you can feel the tension in your own body too—your fists curled by your thighs, nails pressing crescents into your palms.

you've disagreed before. of course you have. practice corrections, scheduling conflicts, small misunderstandings that dissolve with a sigh and an apology.

but never like this.

"don't act like you're the only one exhausted." you snap, the frustration that's been simmering for weeks finally spilling over. "we're all tired. we're all stressed. i don't understand why you're so wound up."

jungwon's eyes flash.

"because i'm the leader!" he fires back, the words coming out harsher than he probably intends. "i have responsibilities you don't even see. i have to answer for everything. the last thing i need is you all acting like children and getting us into trouble with the managers."

from the corner of your eye, you see jay shift uncomfortably. jake inhales like he's about to step in, then hesitates.

you scoff, the sound sharp and incredulous.

"children?" you repeat. "i'm not a child. and i'm certainly not acting like one."

jungwon's shoulders rise and fall with a controlled breath that isn't very controlled at all.

"you don't understand the pressure." he says, voice lower now but edged with something raw. "every mistake reflects on me. every small thing becomes my fault!"

"and you think it doesn't affect us either?" you shoot back. "you think we don't feel that pressure too??"

"that's not what i—"

"no, you just assume we're reckless." you interrupt, your voice climbing again. "like we're burdens you have to babysit."

his jaw tightens further.

"that's not what " said."

"it's what you implied."

the room feels smaller. hotter.

you shake your head, anger mixing with something more personal now.

“I’m not a child," you repeat no less firmly. "but you wouldn't know what that feels like anymore."

his brows knit together. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"it means," you say, the words spilling out before you can soften them, "you've gotten so bossy lately that you don't even listen. you just command. you decide. you assume."

there's a beat of stunned silence after that as your words hang in the air.

jungwon's nostrils flare, his composure cracking in a way you've almost never seen before. he takes a step closer, not aggressively, but close enough that the space between you shrinks into something tight and suffocating.

"say that again noona." he says, voice low, daring.

you don't hesitate.

"bossy." you repeat, staring straight at him. "that's all you are nowadays. commands. orders. schedules. corrections. it's like talking to a robot."

a muscle in his jaw jumps. "a robot?" he echoes, incredulous.

"yeah." you fire back. "like you forgot how to just be with us. everything has to be efficient. everything has to be perfect. everything has to go your way."

"because someone has to be serious when it matters." he snaps, his voice finally rising to match yours. "someone has to think ahead. someone has to care about consequences!"

"we care!" you shout back.

"do you?" he challenges immediately. "because from where i'm standing, you think everything is fine as long as it doesn't directly involve you."

that hits.

your eyes widen, anger flashing.

"that's NOT true!"

"isn't it?" he presses. "you brush things off. you joke. you say we'll deal with it later. but later becomes my problem."

"your problem?" you repeat sharply. "we're a group, jungwon. not some little group project!"

"i know we're a group!" he shoots back. "but when something goes wrong, who do you think gets called first? who do you think has to sit in those meetings? who has to answer when the managers are upset?!"

"so now we're burdens?" you demand. "is that it? we're just things you have to manage?"

"that's not what i said." he fights back.

"yeah? well that's exactly how you sound."

you both are breathing hard now, standing too close, words coming out faster than either of you can filter them.

"you don't listen anymore," you accuse. "you just decide what's right and expect us to follow."

"and you don't think before you act." he counters immediately. "you think passion fixes everything."

"at least i have passion." you snap.

his eyes flash.

"and at least i'm thinking about the future instead of just the moment."

"wow." you laugh bitterly. "so now i'm irresponsible?"

"if the shoe fits—"

"don't." you warn.

"then stop acting like i'm the villain for trying to keep this together." he fires back.

"no one asked you to carry it alone!" you shout. "you chose to act like that!"

"because if i don't, things fall apart!" he yells, louder than he has all night. "someone has to hold the line."

"we're not your soldiers." you grit out. "we're your members. your friends."

the word hangs heavy.

he looks at you, chest rising and falling, eyes bright with frustration.

"then start acting like it," he says, quieter but sharper. "instead of making things harder."

"harder?" your voice trembles, more from anger than hurt. "you think i make things harder?"

"sometimes." he admits, jaw tight.

that's when it spirals.

you throw back every time he corrected your tone. every time he pulled you aside to 'talk'. every time he dismissed your opinion because it wasn't practical enough.

he throws back every time you brushed off a warning. every time you rolled your eyes at a reminder. every time you undermined him in front of the others without meaning to.

accusations pile up.

you say he doesn't trust you.

he says you don't respect him as leader.

you say he's changed.

he says you refuse to be the older and responsible one between them.

neither of you notice the way the others have gone completely silent now, tension crackling through the dorm like static.

this isn't about practice anymore. it's not about managers.

it's about pride, about pressure, and about two people who care too much and are too exhausted to say it properly.

and neither of you is willing to be the first to step back.

"guys—"

"hey, let's just—"

noona, hyung, calm down please—"

but neither of you hear the other boys. or maybe you do, and you just don't care.

your arms cross tightly over your chest, your breath uneven, and you snap your head toward the others, frustration spilling over.

"you all agree with me, right?" you demand, eyes searching their faces desperately. "tell him i'm not crazy."

they freeze.

that's all it takes for jungwon to step in again.

"don't drag them into this." he cuts in sharply, moving closer. so close that suddenly there's barely any space between you. almost chest to chest. the proximity catches you off guard for half a second, and you have to crane your neck up to meet his eyes.

but you don't shy away. you match his glare.

"you always think you're right." he snaps suddenly.

the words hit you like a slap.

"excuse me??" you yell.

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "you do this every time. you get emotional, you dig your heels in, and you refuse to see another perspective."

"oh my god." you laugh bitterly. "that's rich coming from you."

heeseung finally steps forward, unable to stay back any longer. his voice is firm but careful.

"guys, please. this is too much."

jake moves in too, gently reaching to place a hand on jungwon's shoulder.

“won, come on. just breathe for a second—"

jungwon shrugs him off almost instantly.

"no." he says, not even looking at him. his eyes are locked on you. "nnot until noona gets it in her brain that this shit is serious. i'm not backing down."

the word noona lands heavy.

it's not affectionate right now.

it's frustrated. sharp.

you feel your throat tighten but you refuse to let it show.

"i know it's serious!" you shout back. "you think i don't? you think i haven't been trying?"

"trying?" jungwon repeats, incredulous.

"yes, trying!" you step forward this time, closing whatever little space was left between you. "i've been doing my best to support you. i've been helping with practices, with schedules, with keeping the mood up when everyone's tired. i've tried to take things off your plate when i can!"

your voice wavers, just slightly.

"but you clearly haven't noticed. because you're too wound up in your own head."

that one lands.

for a split second, his expression flickers.

"don't." he warns.

"don't what jungwon." you press. "don't tell the truth?"

"don't act like you understand what it's like." he growls. "you don't sit in those meetings. you don't hear what i hear."

"then let me!" you fire back immediately. "let me in instead of shutting everyone out!"

your voice cracks at the edges, but it's strong, desperate, pleading beneath the anger.

jungwon's face hardens instead of softening.

"let you in?" he shoots back, his laugh sharp and humorless. "what, you think you'll actually be of any help?"

the room freezes.

it's subtle at first, the way everyone stills, but it's there. like the air has been vacuumed out all at once.

ni-ki's head snaps up, eyes narrowing.

"hyung—" he starts, a low warning in his voice, but you cut him off before he can continue.

you lift your chin, nose tilting up in wounded pride, eyes burning.

"what?" you challenge, stepping even closer despite the way your heart is starting to pound unevenly. "you don't think my help would do you any good?"

jungwon doesn't answer immediately.

the silence feels dangerous.

"you looking down on me now?" you press, your voice trembling not with fear, but fury.

and something in him finally breaks.

you see it happen. the moment where the frustration overrides the restraint. where the hurt turns into something reckless. his breathing is uneven, chest rising and falling too quickly, eyes dark and blazing with emotion he can't seem to regulate anymore.

he doesn't think.

he just speaks.

"yeah," he spits out. "kinda hard not to when you're such a hinderance."

the word lands like a physical blow.

your brain barely has time to process it before he keeps going, mouth moving faster than his mind can catch up.

"maybe the managers should've thought twice before allowing you into the group."

it's as if time splits open.

everything stops.

the dorm goes so quiet you can hear the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

you don't move. you don't blink. it feels like all the air has been sucked from your lungs at once, like something cold and sharp has driven straight through your chest. the word hinderance echoes in your head, over and over, overlapping with the rest of it.

maybe they should've thought twice.

maybe you shouldn't be here.

your body goes rigid, frozen in place. a cold chill creeps down your spine and settles deep into your bones.

around you, the others look like they've been punched in the gut.

heeseung's mouth parts in shock, eyes wide. jake's hand drops limply to his side, jay mutters a stunned "what the fuck." under his breath, sunghoon stands up from the chair he was sitting on. sunoo's face drains of color, and ni-ki's jaw tightens so hard it looks painful, anger flaring in his eyes.

jungwon is still breathing hard, chest heaving in and out, eyes locked on you with a storm of emotion that hasn't caught up to the damage he's just done.

you don't think you've ever seen him look like that.

not at you.

never at you.

it doesn't even feel real. like maybe you misheard.

but you didn't.

the silence stretches, suffocating.

your vision blurs slightly, and you realize too late that your eyes are filling. you try to swallow, to steady yourself, to say something back, something cutting and sharp enough to match what he just threw at you.

nothing comes out.

instead, a shaky, stuttered breath leaves your lips.

it's small, fragile. but in the dead silence of the room, it sounds deafening.

a single tear slips free before you can stop it, warm against your skin as it trails slowly down your cheek.

that's when it hits him.

you see it in real time. the anger drains from his face, replaced by something horrified. his breathing stutters, like he's just realized what he's done. his eyes flicker from your tear to your expression, and the weight of his words crashes down on him all at once.

"i—" he starts, but the word dies in his throat.

the damage is already done.

your voice feels like it's been stolen straight from your throat, replaced by something hollow and ringing. tears fall freely now, no longer held back by pride or anger, slipping down your cheeks one after another as you stare at jungwon like you don't quite recognize the person standing in front of you.

your arms have fallen to your sides. your fists are no longer clenched.

you just look… defeated.

sunghoon is the first one to move.

he had been rooted in place before, stunned like the rest of them, but something in your expression—something in the way your shoulders tremble—snaps him out of it. he strides forward without hesitation, jaw tight, eyes blazing in a way they rarely do.

he grabs jungwon by the shoulder and shoves him back, not violently, but firmly enough to create space.

"what the fuck do you think you’re saying?!" sunghoon growls, his voice low and shaking with anger.

jungwon stumbles a few steps back, caught off guard. his balance falters and he barely catches himself, eyes wide, mouth parted uselessly as he tries to find words that won't come.

"i— i didn't—" he stutters, but the sentence collapses before it can form.

he looks frozen. he's not angry anymore. just stunned, like he's only now hearing his own voice echo back at him.

the others move all at once after that, as if the spell finally breaks.

jay is at sunghoon's side in seconds, putting a hand on his chest to hold him back from advancing further. "enough." he mutters, though his glare is still locked on jungwon. "just— enough."

ni-ki steps forward too, placing himself halfway between jungwon and you, his expression darker than you've ever seen it. he doesn't say anything this time. he just stands there, protective and rigid.

heeseung moves toward jungwon, gripping his arm tightly, steadying him as he sways slightly.

"won," he says sharply, his voice carrying both authority and disbelief. "what was that?"

jungwon shakes his head faintly, like he's trying to wake up from something. "i didn't mean— i wasn't thinking—"

jake is the first to reach you, hands hovering awkwardly before he gently rests them on your shoulders. "hey." he says softly, voice completely different from the tension just moments ago. "hey, look at me y/n."

but you can't. your eyes are unfocused, staring at nothing.

sunoo steps in front of you, his own eyes glossy. he reaches up carefully and wipes at your cheek with his sleeve, his hand trembling. "noona…" he whispers, and there's something broken in his voice.

the living room feels split in half now.

half of them around you, trying to ground you, to steady you. half around jungwon, who looks like the floor has disappeared beneath him.

"this has gone too far." jay mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"we don't do that." sunghoon snaps, still seething. "we don't say things like that to each other."

jungwon's breathing is uneven, but not from anger anymore. it's panic now. regret crashing into him in waves.

"i didn't mean it," he says, voice cracking. "i swear i didn't mean it."

but the words feel weak in the heavy air.

because even if he didn't mean it—

he said it.

and you're still standing there, silent, tears falling freely, looking like something inside you just shattered.

the sound that leaves you is just a small, choked sob that you try and fail to swallow back down. but in the suffocating quiet of the dorm, it might as well be a scream.

jungwon's head snaps towards you immediately.

whatever shock had frozen him in place shatters at that sound. he breaks free from heeseung's grip without thinking, pushing past jay's arm, ignoring the way sunghoon steps forward again like he's ready to block him.

"noona—" his voice cracks as he rushes toward you.

but the second he gets close—

you flinch.

it's small, barely noticeable. your shoulders jerk and your body shifts back half a step like you're bracing yourself.

and that tiny movement breaks something in him completely.

he stops dead in his tracks as the look on his face crumples.

"no, no—" he breathes, shaking his head rapidly. "noona, i'm not— i wouldn't—"

sunoo is still beside you, one hand on your arm. jake stands slightly in front of you like a barrier, but he doesn't stop jungwon from speaking.

his voice is frantic now, stripped of all pride, all anger.

"i— im sorry." he rushes out, stepping closer again but slower this time, cautious. "i'm so sorry. i didn't mean it! i wasn't thinking. i swear to you i didn't mean a single word of that!"

you can hear him.

you know he's talking, you know he's apologizing. but it feels like you're underwater.

his voice sounds distant, muffled, like it has to travel through something thick before it reaches you. your heart is pounding so hard in your chest it almost hurts, each beat loud in your ears. your hands are cold. your fingers tingle.

you can't think straight.

you can't process.

all you can feel is the echo of his words looping cruelly in your head.

hinderance.

should have thought twice.

you nod.

it's small, almost mechanical. your chin dipping once like your body is responding out of habit rather than understanding.

you don't look at him. you can't.

a hiccuped sob tears out of you, embarrassing and shaky, and you lift a trembling hand to wipe your face but it only smears the tears further.

"i—" your voice cracks badly. you swallow and try again. "i want to leave."

everyone goes still again.

"what?" jake's voice is immediate, panicked.

"i want to leave." you repeat, barely holding it together. "i just— i need some space. i need to breathe."

panic ripples through the room.

jake reaches for you instinctively, fingers wrapping around your arm. "what do you mean leave? you can't just—"

you gently pry his hand off, not harshly, just firm enough to break contact.

"please." you sob softly. "i just need space."

"noona, wait—" jungwon steps forward again, desperation flooding back into his voice.

but you don't let him finish.

you slip past them before anyone can react fast enough, your vision blurry with tears as you rush toward the front door. your hands shake as you shove your feet into your sneakers, not even bothering to tie them properly, heels barely pressed in.

someone calls out for you again, you're not even sure who.

the door swings open as the cool air of the building hallway hits your face.

and then you're gone.

the door closes behind you with a heavy click. the sound echoes and the living room feels enormous in your absence. the silence left behind is suffocating.

jungwon stands frozen where you left him, staring at the door like it might open again if he wills it hard enough. he feels like the air has been sucked out of the room entirely.

he can't breathe.

sunoo presses a hand to his mouth, eyes glossy. ni-ki runs a hand through his hair in frustration, pacing once before stopping. heeseung closes his eyes briefly, trying to steady himself. sunghoon looks toward the door, jaw tight, worry etched across his features. jake is still standing near where you pulled away from him, hand half-raised like he's replaying the moment.

jungwon swallows hard.

"i—" his voice breaks. he tries again. "i didn't— i didn't mean—"

"we know." heeseung says quietly, but it's strained.

jungwon's shoulders slump slightly.

he feels sick.

jay exhales sharply, running both hands over his face before looking around at everyone.

"okay." he says, voice firm despite the tension. "we all need to talk."

no one argues. because this isn't something that can be brushed off. this isn't a small fight that ends with takeaway food and awkward laughter.

you had walked out.

and jungwon stands there in the middle of the living room, staring at the closed door, feeling like he's just watched something precious slip through his fingers because he wanted to win an argument that suddenly doesn't matter at all.

.....

outside, the air hits you like a shock.

it's cold enough to bite, sharp against your damp cheeks, turning the trails of your tears icy as they keep falling. your lungs burn when you inhale too quickly, but you don't slow down. you just keep moving, sneakers slapping unevenly against the pavement, laces loose and heels barely secured.

you don't even know where you're going.

left. right. straight ahead. anywhere that isn't there.

the city is quieter at this hour, the hum of distant traffic blending into a low, constant murmur. your breaths come out in shaky puffs of white, dissolving into the night as fast as they form.

you don't stop running until your legs begin to ache and your chest feels tight for reasons that have nothing to do with the cold.

you turn a corner without thinking and find yourself near a small park you vaguely recognize. it's mostly empty, swings swaying faintly in the wind, leaves rustling along the pavement. a single streetlamp casts a pale yellow glow over a secluded stretch of footpath. you just walk toward it and your knees give out.

you slump down onto the curb beneath the streetlamp, the concrete unforgiving beneath you. you hug your arms around yourself automatically, shoulders shaking, and press the heels of your hands against your eyes as if you can physically force the tears to stop.

they don't.

each breath is uneven, hitching, breaking apart in your chest before you can steady it. your head feels heavy, thoughts muddled and tangled together.

hinderance.

maybe they should have thought twice.

you squeeze your eyes shut harder.

"stop." you whisper to yourself, voice trembling.

you know he didn't mean it. you know he was angry. you know he was hurting too.

but knowing doesn't erase the way it felt.

those words didn't just sting—they cut deep, right into the place you keep your quiet fears. the insecurities you rarely voice out loud. the small voice that sometimes wonders if you're enough, if you're pulling your weight, if you truly deserve to stand beside them.

another sob escapes you before you can swallow it down. you wipe at your face again, but your skin is already cold and sensitive from the constant tears.

you tilt your head back against the metal pole of the streetlamp, staring up at the pale halo of light above you. moths flutter lazily around it, unaware of the storm raging beneath.

your phone buzzes again in your trembling hands.

for a second, you almost ignore it.

but the screen lights up against the dim glow of the streetlamp, and through blurry vision you see the notifications stacked on top of each other. missed call after missed calls and messages after messages.

your throat tightens again.

before you can process it, another call comes in.

its jay.

you stare at his name for two full rings.

three.

four.

you inhale shakily and swipe to answer.

"h-hello…" the word barely makes it out, fragile and cracked.

on the other end, you immediately hear him exhale in relief.

"she answered." jay says quickly, voice turning away from the phone for a second. you can hear muffled movement in the background.

voices overlap faintly.

"is she okay?"

"give it to me—"

"where is she?"

jay comes back, and when he speaks again his tone is steady. but you can hear it—the worry tucked into every syllable.

"hey… you okay?"

you open your mouth and nothing comes out. your lips tremble instead. the wind rustles through the trees above you and your silence stretches too long.

jay exhales lowly.

"i'm sorry." he says quietly. "we should've stepped in earlier when it was getting heated. we shouldn't have let it escalate like that."

you don't have the energy to respond properly. you just hum faintly into the phone so he knows you're litening.

in the background, you hear ni-ki's voice—tense, a little sharp with anxiety.

"ask her where she is. did she say where she'd she go?"

jay clears his throat. "where are you right now?"

you press your sleeve to your nose and sniff, looking around as if the surroundings might answer for you. empty swings, leafless trees, and the lonely streetlamp buzzing faintly above you.

"in some park." you murmur, voice cracks in the end.

"okay." jay replies immediately. "that's okay. just stay there, alright? don't move. jungwon's already out looking for you."

you don't say anything.

jay sighs softly on the other end. "i talked to him. we all did."

you squeeze your eyes shut.

"you know he didn't mean that, right?" jay continues carefully. "it's not an excuse. he was upset and he didn't think before he spoke. but you know he would never actually believe those words."

your breathing wavers.

you sniff again and wipe at your cheeks again, though they're already dry from the cold air.

"…i know." you breathe.

there's a pause. and then jay's voice softens even more.

"we love you. all of us do. we're so proud to have you with us. none of us would ever wish for anything different."

your chest aches in a different way now.

"jungwon especially." he adds quietly.

you blink.

that catches you off guard.

"what…?"

jay lets out a small breath, almost like a half-laugh. "you don't see it because he's not obvious about it. but he cares about you the most when it comes to the group. he worries about you constantly. about whether you're okay, whether you're overworking, whether people treat you fairly. i mean, we all do, but no one does it more than that guy."

your heart twists. you didn't know that.

"he's probably panicking the hardest right now." he continues. "he's been blaming himself since you left."

you swallow.

the image of jungwon walking through the cold streets alone, eyes scanning every corner—

it hurts.

"let him know where you are." jay says gently. "okay? please. just text him the location. he'll come to you."

you nod faintly even though he can't see it.

"…okay."

there's another small pause.

"we love you." jay says again, firm this time.

your lips tremble.

"i love you guys too."

you mean it with your whole chest.

you hang up slowly, staring at your reflection in the dark screen for a second before lowering the phone to your lap.

the park is still quiet.

after a moment, you unlock your phone again. your thumb hovers over his contact for a second before you press send.

location shared.

no message. no explanation. just a blinking pin on a map that says here.

you lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket, the screen's faint glow disappearing, leaving you alone again under the streetlamp's pale halo.

the night feels quieter now.

fifteen minutes. that's what you probably have before he finds you. fifteen minutes to sit with everything.

you draw a slow breath, though it trembles on the way out. the cold doesn't feel as sharp anymore, or maybe your skin is just numb from crying. your mind starts replaying the past few days—the exhaustion, the tension, the tight schedules, the small misunderstandings that kept stacking on top of each other until they became too heavy.

it wasn't just tonight. it was everything.

you think about jungwon. the way he'd been quieter than usual these past few days. how he stayed back after practice to talk to staff. how he was the one fielding the harder questions. how he always made sure everyone else ate first before grabbing his own plate.

you weren't the leader... he was. jungwon had that title for a reason. he carries it like it's stitched into his skin.

he's strong. everyone says it, the fans say it, the members say it, even you say it.

but strong doesn't mean unbreakable.

and tonight, you hadn't helped.

you squeeze your hands together, remembering your own words—sharp, defensive, thrown out in hurt without filtering them. accusing him of not understanding you, of not caring enough.

you swallow, guilt slowly replacing the ache in your chest. you know that wasn't fair.

if anything, he prioritizes too much.

you think about the way he looks at everyone during interviews, subtly checking if they're okay. the way he steps in during awkward moments and when he absorbs stress so the rest of you don't have to feel it as heavily.

maybe it had just been too much lately.

maybe your words had been the final push when he was already teetering on the edge.

your chest tightens at the thought. you hadn’t meant to hurt him either.

but you did.

and he hurt you.

and now both of you are out in the same cold night, thinking about the same fight from opposite ends.

you tilt your head up, staring at the dark sky beyond the streetlamp's glow.

you both care for each other, and that's what made it hurt so much.

you inhale slowly, steadying yourself. he wasn't just a leader tonight. he was a boy who'd reached his limit. and you had reached yours.

maybe neither of you were villains in this story, maybe you were just tired.

you close your eyes. when he gets here, you won't yell. you'll listen.

and maybe… maybe you'll apologize first.

......

not too long after you sent your location, you're still sitting beneath the streetlamp, staring at nothing in particular, lost in your thoughts when you notice movement at the far edge of the park.

at first it's just a shadow shifting between trees. you blink, unsure if i'’s your imagination. but then the figure steps closer into the light spilling from the nearby street.

jungwon.

his pace is quick at first, almost frantic, head turning sharply from side to side as he scans the area. even from this distance, you can see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders are slightly raised, the way his steps are uneven, unsure but determined all at once. he looks like he's been running on adrenaline since leaving the dorm.

your heart reacts before your mind does.

he spins around once, searching further, and then suddenly freezes in place when his eyes land on you.

for a moment, neither of you moves. the distance between you feels both small and enormous at the same time, as though the park has stretched itself just to make this moment longer. his expression shifts when he confirms it's really you sitting there.

you take a slow breath, reaching up and gently wipe away the last traces of moisture clinging to your waterline. then after a second of hesitation, you lift your hand. small and uncertain. just a quiet wave in his direction.

that simple gesture seems to break whatever remaining stillness was holding him back.

jungwon exhales sharply, almost like he's been holding his breath the entire time he was searching. his shoulders drop, and something in his expression softens so visibly it makes your own throat tighten again.

he doesn't run. instead, he starts walking toward you slowly.

each step is deliberate and careful, like he's afraid that if he moves too fast you might disappear. his eyes stay locked on you the entire time, never leaving your face.

the space between you shrinks with every step he takes.

when jungwon is only a few feet away, his steps slow, uncertainty creeping back into his movements. the determination that carried him across the park gives way to something softer, more fragile, as though now that he's close enough to touch you, he's afraid of what that contact might mean.

he stops directly in front of you where you're still sitting on the curb beneath the streetlamp.

for a moment, neither of you speaks.

the silence isn't heavy anymore, but it's charged. there's a pulling sensation in your chest, the instinct to look away first, to break the intensity of it all. you can see it in him too, the same urge flickering behind his eyes.

but neither of you does.

and for the first time since the fight began, there's no anger left in the space between you. only exhaustion. only regret. only the quiet realization of how badly things spiraled.

after a few seconds that feel much longer, both of you inhale at the same time.

your mouths open simultaneously.

"i'm sorry." "i'm sorry"

the words fall out together, overlapping in the cold air.

you both stop and look at each other stunned.

then something shifts in jungwon's face, where the last remnants of restraint break entirely.

he surges forward suddenly, driven by emotion rather than thought. you barely have time to register the movement before you're pushing yourself up from the curb, standing just as he reaches you. and then he's firmly and desperately wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you flush against his chest and closing every inch of space between you.

apologies spill out rapidly, words tumbling over each other in a rush of regret. he buries his face into the side of your neck, his breath shaky against your skin as he holds you like he's afraid you might vanish if he loosens his grip.

you stand there for only a couple of seconds before something inside of you eases and then your lifting your arms lift slowly, hesitantly at first, before wrapping around his neck just as tightly. your fingers press into the fabric of his hoodie, anchoring yourself to him. you turn your face slightly and rest it against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of him. and you realize he's shaking slightly, whether from the cold or emotion you can't tell.

his grip tightens when he feels you hug him back, as if that reassurance gives him permission to hold on.

the apologies don't stop. they're muffled against your skin, quieter, breaking apart with every breath.

the streetlamp above you hums softly.

tiny drops wetting your neck where jungwon's face is buried, warm against your cold skin. he lets out a small, broken whine, the sound muffled by your shoulder as his grip tightens instinctively, like he's trying to hold himself together through you.

his breathing is uneven.

and then the words come, tumbling out in a rush, no pride left to protect.

"i didn't mean what i said back there." he says, voice shaking, each sentence pressed into your neck. "it was fucked up of me. i would never—ever—tell you that you don’t belong with us."

his arms squeeze you closer.

"i let my frustrations get the best of me. i spoke without thinking. i'm a big, dumb idiot.”

there's no trace of the sharpness from earlier. only raw and unfiltered regret.

"but if you forgive me," he continues desperately, his fingers clutching the fabric at your back, "i swear i'll do better. not just as your leader, as your friend. please, noona. please. please forgive me."

the repetition breaks something in your chest.

you tighten your grip around him in response, one hand sliding higher along his back, the other pressing firmly into his shoulder. you shake your head where it rests against him, your voice coming out muffled but sincere.

"i'm sorry too."

he stills slightly, listening.

you swallow, throat aching. "you do so much for all of us. and in the end i called you bossy. i accused you of being like a robot. that wasn't fair."

your fingers curl into his hoodie.

"you have feelings too. you're not just our leader. i should've seen things from your perspective before speaking. i was hurt and i lashed out just as much."

your voice trembles, but you force yourself to keep going.

"what you said did hurt." you admit softly. "but i understand you were overwhelmed. and i'm sorry i didn't try harder to understand that sooner."

jungwon pulls back just enough to look at you, hands still firmly on your waist, like he needs to see your face to believe you're really here, really talking to him. his eyes are red from guilt.

"you're not a burden." he says quietly, almost urgently. "not to me, not to anyone."

you nod faintly.

"and you're not bossy." you add gently. "you're just trying to protect us."

he leans his forehead against yours.

the cold air surrounds you both, but where you're touching, everything feels warm.

"i was scared," he confesses in a whisper. "that if i don't hold everything together, it'll fall apart."

your thumbs move slowly against his back, grounding him.

"it won't." you murmur. "we're not that fragile, you don't have to carry things alone."

he closes his eyes briefly, breathing you in like it steadies him.

after a while, the tightness in the hug eases naturally, not because either of you wants to let go, but because you both understand that you're staying.

you sit back down on the curb together, shoulders brushing, close enough that your warmth seeps into each other through layers of fabric. the streetlamp above casts a soft golden glow over the two of you, turning the moment quieter and intimate. the night doesn't feel as cold anymore.

for a few seconds, you just breathe.

jungwon drags a hand over his face, wiping the last of his tears away, then lets out a shaky exhale that almost sounds like a tired laugh. you can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips in response. it feels strange how quickly things can shift—from shouting to silence, from hurt to understanding.

you both know each other well enough to understand that what was said tonight wasn't spoken from the heart. it was exhaustion, pressure and fear that were talking.

you pull your knees up slightly, wrapping your arms around them as you stare out at the empty park. "it's just been… a lot lately." you admit.

jungwon nods immediately, like he's been waiting for someone to say it out loud.

he tells you about the meetings that have been weighing on him. about the constant balancing act of being strong for everyone else while feeling like he's running low himself. about how he's been scared to admit he's struggling because he thinks a leader isn't supposed to.

you listen carefully, really listen without interrupting.

then you tell him your side.

how the schedule has been draining you more than you let on. how you've been overthinking small mistakes. how sometimes you feel like you have to prove yourself over and over again, even when no one is asking you to. how when he would correct you, it hit nerves you didn't realize were already raw.

"i thought you were disappointed in me." you confess quietly.

his head snaps toward you. "never."

"hmm. i know that now."

you both sit with that.

the realization that you had been misreading each other for days because neither of you slowed down enough to talk. small misunderstandings piling up silently until they exploded tonight.

"i think we were both just tired." he says after a moment, voice softer.

"yeah." you agree. "tired and stubborn."

he nudges your shoulder lightly with his.

you nudge back.

you talk about how things have been affecting everyone—the subtle irritability, the way jokes haven't landed as easily, the quietness at dinner. how all of you have been carrying your own pieces of stress but trying not to burden the others with them.

"we can't keep doing that." you say gently. "pretending we're fine until we snap."

jungwon nods slowly. "i don't want to either."

there's a pause. then he adds more quietly, "i don't want to hurt you like that again."

your chest warms at that. "you won't." you say with certainty. "and if you do by accident, we'll talk before it turns into this."

he smiles faintly at that, the kind of small, tired smile that feels more honest than anything flashy.

you lean your head lightly against his shoulder, and after a second, he lets his rest against yours.

the night feels calmer now.

just as the last of the tension melts into something lighter between you, your phone begins to ring again, the sudden vibration in your pocket breaking the quiet calm of the park.

you pull it out, glancing at the screen.

heeseung.

you and jungwon share a small look before you answer, putting the call on speaker. your voice is steadier now. "hello?"

there's immediate noise on the other end—familiar voices overlapping in the background before heeseung's cuts through clearly. he asks how the two of you are, if jungwon found you and if everything's okay now,.

you glance at jungwon, who's watching you carefully, almost nervously, as if he's waiting for confirmation from your side too.

you can't help the small smile that spreads across your face.

"we're fine." you say softly. "we talked it out. we're alright now."

you can practically hear the collective sigh of relief from the other end of the line. someone—probably sunoo—murmurs something about finally being able to breathe again. there's light teasing mixed with genuine concern, and it makes your chest feel warm.

heeseung tells you it's getting late and that he hopes you both come home soon.

"we will." you promise. "we're heading back now."

after a few more reassurances and a quiet "love you guys", you hang up.

you look up to see jungwon already looking at you.

there's a softness in his expression that wasn't there earlier. not the leader. not the one carrying the world on his shoulders.

just him.

he pushes himself up from the curb first, brushing his hands against his pants. then he turns to you and holds his hand out.

his fingers are slightly pink from the cold.

"come on noona." he says gently. "let's go home."

noona.

the word settles warmly in your chest.

you take his hand without hesitation this time.

his grip closes around yours firmly, steady and grounding as he helps you up from the curb. for a brief second, you're closer than necessary, and neither of you pulls away immediately.

hand in hand, you begin walking back together, steps falling naturally into sync.

the path home feels a little warmer than before.

you and sunoo were standing side by side, arms loosely crossed, staring down at the absolute disaster happening on the living room floor. a full-on dogpile of limbs and voices and chaos had taken over the space, with the rest of the members tangled together in a mess of kicking legs and flailing arms. you both wore identical frowns as you watched, like two exhausted observers witnessing something deeply unnecessary.

you didn't even remember how it had started, but you were pretty sure ni-ki had been bothering jake like usual, which somehow spiraled into jake retaliating, and then sunghoon and jay getting dragged in, and jungwon trying to be responsible for about three seconds before he too disappeared into the pile. now the floor was just a storm of hoodies and sneakers and loud arguing.

jungwon and jay had both tried to grab you and sunoo at least a few times, hands reaching out to pull you into the mess but the two of you had worked together seamlessly, dodging and weaving and pulling the other out of the way at just the right moments. now you both stood safely at the edge of the dogpile, untouched and unimpressed.

you saw someone get elbowed in the ribs and winced instinctively, your eyes flicking to sunoo. he met your gaze, his own face mirroring your concern and annoyance, and in that silent exchange you both came to the same decision.

"you wanna get out of here?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

you didn't even hesitate, already turning around and heading for the door. "god yes."

a few loud yells followed behind you, someone shouting your name, another one demanding you come back, but you and sunoo were already scrambling to pull on your shoes, hands clumsy with urgency as you tried to escape before anyone could drag you back into the pile. you laughed under your breath as you slipped them on, adrenaline buzzing in your veins, and then the two of you were rushing out of the dorm, free from the madness.

the two of you walked down the road side by side, the dorm building slowly shrinking behind you with every step. the air felt lighter out here, quieter, like you could finally breathe again without someone tackling you or yelling your name. the sky above was painted in soft shades of orange and pink as the sun began to set, casting everything in a warm, gentle glow that made the streets feel almost dreamy.

you and sunoo wandered without any real destination, stopping to peer into shop windows, pointing out cute clothes, weird displays, and anything that caught your eye. at one point, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and when you checked it, sunghoon's name lit up the screen.

"how dare you leave the dorm without telling me." he complained the second you picked up.

you didn't even blink before hanging up, slipping your phone back into your pocket like nothing happened. sunoo burst into laughter beside you, nearly doubling over as he covered his mouth.

not long after, the two of you stumbled upon a small, adorable shop filled with tiny trinkets and pastel-coloured decorations. it was impossible not to go in. inside, you found shelves lined with the cutest little things, and eventually you both ended up standing in front of a display of tiny kitty figures.

"we should get these." sunoo said immediately.

you ended up choosing one for him, a little cat with a mischievous smile that reminded you a little too much of him, while he picked one out for you, carefully comparing them like it was the most serious decision in the world. you both paid and left with your tiny treasures tucked safely away, smiling the whole time.

by the time the sun had dipped lower in the sky, your stomachs both began to growl in unison, making you look at each other and laugh.

"dinner?" sunoo suggested.

"dinner." you agreed.

the two of you made your way over to one of the restaurants you frequented together, pushing open the familiar doors and stepping inside. the warm smells of food immediately wrapped around you, making your hunger even worse.

both you and sunoo headed straight for your usual table, the one tucked away comfortably in the corner of the restaurant. it was far enough from prying eyes to feel private, but it still sat right by the window, giving you a clear view of the street outside where the last of the sunlight was fading into soft evening colors. it always felt like your little spot, a place that belonged just to the two of you.

you slid into the booth, sinking back against the cushioned seat with a small sigh of relief, while sunoo made himself comfortable across from you, already looking way too happy to be there. the waiter came by with a warm smile and handed you both your menus, and you thanked him before immediately starting to flip through the pages.

you and sunoo leaned in toward the table, quietly discussing what to get, pointing at different dishes and debating which ones would be the best to share. sunoo, as always, happily chose anything that looked especially delicious, eyes lighting up every time he spotted something new. you laughed at his enthusiasm, circling a few of your own picks as well.

you leaned back into your seat with a long, content sigh, letting yourself slouch comfortably into the booth like all the tension from the day had finally drained out of you. across from you, sunoo mirrored your posture almost perfectly, sinking down and stretching his legs out under the table.

he shot you a small, knowing smile. "tired already?"

you nodded lazily. "yeah, a little." you admitted, but your tone was happy. "but i had fun. we should definitely go back to that cute shop next time."

sunoo's eyes lit up immediately. "we should. and we have to get more matching things."

"anddd." you continued, leaning forward slightly as excitement crept back into your tone, "we should try that ice cream shop next door before heading home."

sunoo gasped lightly like you'd just suggested the best idea in the world. "oh my god yesss."

the two of you spent the next few minutes debating flavors and whether you should share or get separate cups, completely immersed in your little planning session. you were just about to lift your hand to call the waitress over when—

bang.

the loud noise against the window right beside your table made both you and sunoo jump in your seats. your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as your heads snapped toward the sound, eyes wide.

pressed dramatically against the glass were two very familiar faces.

jungwon and ni-ki stood outside, wrapped in their jackets, grinning like absolute menaces. ni-ki had his hand cupped around his face as if trying to peer in better, while jungwon waved enthusiastically.

"yoooo!" jungwon enthusiastically yelled through the glass.

you and sunoo both stared at them in disbelief, your expressions slowly shifting from shock to pure what the hell energy.

before you could even process how they'd found you, the two younger boys stepped away from the window and started heading toward the restaurant's front doors. just before moving fully out of sight, ni-ki leaned back toward the glass and tapped on it again loudly, clearly trying to scare you one more time.

this time, you didn't jump. you just slowly raised an eyebrow at him through the window, unimpressed.

sunoo sighed. "so much for a peaceful dinner."

the front door of the restaurant chimed loudly as jungwon and ni-ki stepped inside, bringing a small gust of cold evening air in with them. you could already hear them before you saw them properly, their voices carrying easily through the cozy hum of the restaurant as they made their way toward the back where you and sunoo were seated.

they were loud when they reached your table.

"found you!" ni-ki announced, like he had just completed some grand mission.

jungwon slid into the empty booth space smoothly next to you without hesitationbefore settling down like he belonged there all along. he shrugged off his jacket, clearly grateful for the warmth of the restaurant heaters, and draped it over his lap.

before you could even comment, he threw an arm around your shoulders and leaned into you comfortably, his side pressing against yours in an easy, familiar way.

"so." he said brightly, glancing between you and sunoo, "what are we ordering?"

you snorted at his audacity, instinctively leaning into him as well, your shoulder resting against his. "me and sunoo were just thinking of getting some hot pot." you replied.

"ahhh." jungwon hummed dramatically, nodding like he was deeply impressed. "what a wonderful choice for the four of us."

you burst out laughing at that, already knowing you weren't going to get rid of them.. across the table, sunoo narrowed his eyes at ni-ki, who had unceremoniously dumped himself into the booth beside sunoo, sliding in with zero regard for personal space, much to sunoo's immediate and visible dismay. his long legs stretched out under the table, his shoulders deliberately widening as he leaned back like he was trying to occupy every inch of the seat.

sunoo gasped in offense. "ya! the audacity— move over, riki!!

ni-ki only sank further into the booth, sprawling dramatically and pretending to get even more comfortable. "nawww, lemme be comfortable man." he replied lazily, throwing an arm across the backrest behind sunoo like he owned the place.

sunoo immediately started pushing at him, trying to shove his lanky body away. "you're literally on top of me!"

"i'm not." ni-ki argued, even though he very clearly was.

jungwon snickered beside you, his arm still around your shoulders as he watched the chaos unfold across the table. you sighed, already sensing where this was heading if you didn't intervene soon. sunoo's whining was steadily increasing in pitch, and ni-ki was absolutely not helping.

before sunoo could decide that the only solution was to drag the rest of the members here and turn this into a full seven-member dinner, you quickly lifted your hand to call the waitress over.

she approached with a polite smile, though her eyes flickered briefly to the bickering boys across from you.

"we're ready to order." you said, trying to sound composed while sunoo hissed at the youngest to move.

the four of you settled down properly after that, the chaos slowly simmering into something more manageable as the kind waitress took your order. one by one, you all listed the drinks you wanted, occasionally talking over each other until you shushed them lightly. in the end, you decided to share a moderately sized hotpot among the four of you, something warm and comforting to chase away the slow creeping winter outside.

the waitress nodded kindly, scribbling everything down with practiced ease. "i'll bring it out as fast as i can." she assured you.

you all thanked her in unison, voices overlapping in a messy but polite chorus as she disappeared back toward the kitchen.

once she was gone, you leaned back into the booth and turned toward the two newcomers, narrowing your eyes slightly. "what even are you two doing here?" you asked out loud, directing the question mostly at jungwon as you shifted to face him better. "and even better question, how'd you know we were here?"

jungwon didn’t answer immediately. instead, he gave you a knowing smile that made you instantly suspicious. he reached up and started playing with your hair, twirling a strand around his fingers before giving it the gentlest tug, just enough to tease but not enough to hurt.

"c'monnnn noona." he said, tilting his head with that soft, mischievous smile of his. he placed his elbow on the table and rested his cheek against his palm, eyes never leaving yours. "i'll always know where ya wander off to~."

you sighed at his words, shaking your head even though a smile had already found its way onto your lips. it was such a typically weird, oddly endearing jungwon thing to say, half joking, half serious in a way you could never quite decipher.

across the table, ni-ki made a gagging noise while sunoo rolled his eyes dramatically, but you just nudged jungwon lightly with your shoulder.

"you're so weird." you muttered fondly.

he only smiled wider.

sunoo let out a long, dramatic sigh before finally giving up, his resistance visibly dissolving as he allowed ni-ki to do whatever he wanted. he settled back against the arm ni-ki had thrown around him, looking mildly inconvenienced but no longer fighting it.

"when'd you guys leave that dogpile you were making at home anyways?" sunoo asked, glancing lazily at the two younger boys.

"not that long after you and noona left." ni-ki replied easily. "the other hyungs brought up dare or dare, and then we decided that we value our lives and don't plan on embarrassing ourselves any sooner."

you physically cringed at that, shoulders scrunching up. honestly, it was your fault for suggesting dare or dare in the first place. a dumb, manic version of truth or dare where there was no safe option, only increasingly ridiculous dares that the older boys had immediately taken an insane liking to.

your fans wouldn't even begin to imagine the wildest things their biases could come up with under that game.

"don't remind me." you muttered, covering your face briefly with your hands. "i created a bunch of monsters for ever suggesting such a game."

right then, the restaurant waitress returned, carefully placing your drinks and the hotpot setup down on the table. steam curled up into the air almost immediately, carrying the rich, mouthwatering scent of broth and spices with it.

all four of you thanked her eagerly, practically leaning forward as she finished arranging everything. the moment she stepped away, you all dug in without hesitation, your mouths already watering at the sight of the amazing food.

the warmth of the steam hit your face as you reached for your chopsticks, and just like that the air between you four was replaced by laughter, teasing, and the comforting clatter of dishes shared between you all.

as you all eat, conversation flows as easily as the steam rising from the hotpot between you. the clatter of chopsticks against bowls mixes with laughter, overlapping voices, and the occasional dramatic complaint about someone stealing the last piece of meat.

ni-ki keeps reaching across the pot without warning, nearly knocking jungwon's drink over at one point, and sunoo immediately slaps his hand away with a sharp "yah". only for ni-ki to grin and do it again two seconds later. jungwon, ever the instigator in disguise, quietly slides a piece of tofu from sunoo's bowl to yours when sunoo isn't looking, then pretends to be innocent when sunoo notices.

"who took it?" sunoo demands, eyes narrowing.

you try to keep a straight face but fail miserably, your laughter giving everything away.

"betrayal." sunoo mutters dramatically, pointing his chopsticks at you like you've committed the greatest crime.

you lean back in your seat, laughing openly now, warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the bubbling broth in front of you. jungwon's shoulder brushes against yours again as he reaches forward for more vegetables, and ni-ki nudges your foot under the table just to annoy you.

"eat more noona." ni-ki says suddenly, pushing a slice of meat into your bowl without looking at you directly. "you're not eating as much nowadays."

you blink at him for a second before rolling your eyes, though you don't push it back.

"you acting like my parent now? i thought that was my role over you." you tease.

"i'm not." he replies. "i'm just your favorite."

sunoo gasps in mock offense. "excuse me?"

jungwon hums thoughtfully. "that title is clearly mine."

you watch them argue over something so ridiculous, your laughter softening into a quiet smile as you take another bite. the conversation never stops, jumping from practice stories to dorm mayhem to plans for dessert next door.

and somewhere between the teasing and the stolen bites and the way jungwon absentmindedly refills your drink before his own, you realize that this is what you love most.

just this.

just them.

just the four of you squeezed into a corner booth, sharing food and warmth while winter settles quietly outside the window.

at one point, you grow quiet.

your chopsticks slow, your chewing softer as your eyes drift from your bowl to the three of them. you watch jungwon animatedly explaining something with his hands, ni-ki interrupting him halfway through just to argue about a detail that doesn't even matter, and sunoo reacting to both of them like he's the only sane one at the table.

they nudge each other. they laugh too loudly. ni-ki steals from sunoo's bowl again. jungwon steals it back. and you just sit there for a moment, taking it in. the way they look so comfortable, so safe.

you can't help the small smile that forms on your lips.

you don't even realize you've been staring until jungwon glances at you. "why are you looking at us like that?" he asks suspiciously.

you blink, caught, and look down at your bowl for half a second before looking back up. "i'm just… glad you guys are in my life."

the words slip out naturally, softer than the noise around you.

and just like that, the table goes quiet.

sunoo pauses mid-bite. ni-ki freezes with his chopsticks hovering in the air. jungwon's expression shifts into something unreadable for a split second.

then, almost immediately—

"wow." ni-ki says, leaning back dramatically. "why are you being so sentimental?"

"did you hit your head earlier?" sunoo adds, narrowing his eyes playfully.

jungwon nudges your shoulder lightly. "so i am noona's favourite huh?"

you roll your eyes, cheeks warming despite yourself. "forget i said anything."

but even as they tease you, you feel it. under the table, ni-ki's foot bumps gently against yours, not playful this time but grounding. sunoo nudges your knee with his own, subtle and warm, and jungwon's hand squeezes your shoulder briefly before dropping back to the table.

"we're glad you're in our lives too." jungwon says casually, like it's nothing, but his tone is honest.

"yeah." sunoo adds, looking at you with a small, shy smile he tries to hide by reaching for his drink.

ni-ki shrugs like it's clear. "obviously."

they don't make a big show of it. they don't get overly emotional. but you can feel it in the way they look at you, in the way they sit just a little closer.

your smile widens, heart feeling impossibly full as the noise and teasing slowly resume around you.

and you think, maybe being their noona isn't just about appreciating them.

maybe it's about being appreciated too.

after an amazing and unexpectedly heartfelt meal together, the four of you bundled back into your jackets and stepped outside into the cool city air. the warmth from the restaurant clung to you for only a few seconds before the winter chill wrapped around your noses and fingertips, making all of you instinctively huddle a little closer together.

despite the cold, each of the boys were happily holding a cup of ice cream, courtesy of you. and it was absolutely not because ni-ki had dramatically threatened to scream his lungs out like a neglected child in the middle of the street if you didn't treat them. absolutely not.

"best noona ever." he had declared smugly the second he got his cup.

"manipulative." you had muttered under your breath, though you were smiling anyway.

now you stood under a glowing street lamp, its warm light casting a golden halo over the four of you as you gathered close together for warmth. you had come up a few coins short for your own cup, but the boys had immediately insisted you just share theirs. so there you were, leaning in every now and then to steal a bite from jungwon's spoon, or sunoo's, or even ni-ki's when he wasn't looking.

the air puffed out in little clouds when you laughed, your shoulders brushing, your arms occasionally bumping as you all tried to fit into the small circle of warmth you created yourselves.

you watched them quietly for a moment.

sunoo's cheeks were puffed slightly as he took a big bite. jungwon was blinking slowly, savoring his like he was at some five-star dessert place instead of on the side of the road. and ni-ki pretended to be cool about it but was very clearly enjoying every single spoonful.

their cheeks were slightly pink from the cold, hair tousled by the wind, eyes bright under the streetlight.

they looked so cute it physically hurt.

you felt that fondness rise in your chest again, filling you up until you thought you might actually burst. you wished, fleetingly, that you could freeze this exact moment forever. you wished you could take a picture of them right now, just like this.

ni-ki was standing on your right, lazily eating his ice cream, when he suddenly blinked in surprise.

because you had reached up and gently cupped his cheek.

his skin was cold from the air, but warm beneath your palm, and you stroked your thumb softly over the roundness of it, unable to stop yourself.

"look at you." you cooed, voice syrupy and fond. "my baby's grown so much. you look so cute eating your ice cream."

ni-ki froze and his ears turned red and then his cheeks. he coughed awkwardly, nearly choking on his ice cream. "i'm a grown-ass man." he muttered, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as he avoided your eyes.

you shook your head immediately. "nope. you're my baby."

jungwon and sunoo both gasped dramatically.

"nonnaaa," sunoo whined, leaning into your other side. "what about ussss?"

"yeah," jungwon added, pretending to pout. "are we not your babies too?"

you burst out laughing at the sight of all three of them suddenly competing for your affection, their tall frames bending slightly toward you as if trying to fit under your attention.

"come here~" you laughed, voice overflowing with happiness.

you stretched your arms out and pulled them into as tight of a hug as your smaller frame could manage. it was messy and unbalanced and half of ni-ki's ice cream almost tipped over, but none of you cared. their arms came around you almost immediately, warm and solid and protective in a way that made your heart ache.

their laughter mixed together, blending into one sound that felt like home. you kept cooing at them shamelessly, calling them your precious angels, your babies, your boys, ignoring their embarrassed protests.

"this is nice." jungwon laughed softly into your hair.

"this is so cringe." ni-ki mumbled, though he didn't pull away.

sunoo tightened his arms around you just a little more.

standing there under the street lamp, surrounded by cold air and warm bodies and melting ice cream, you realized something.

being their noona was a rollercoaster.

it was loud and exhausting and chaotic. it meant dogpiles and teasing and migraines and being bullied out of your own peaceful dinners. it meant worrying about them and scolding them and sometimes feeling like you had three oversized children attached to your hip.

but it also meant this.

it meant warm shoulders and shared desserts. it meant quiet reassurance in practice rooms and loud laughter in restaurants. it meant being looked at like you mattered, like you were theirs just as much as they were yours.

and honestly?

you think you won at life by being so.

author's note: ya this took way too long to come out OOP. sigh i love the maknae line sm. i had different plots but i couldnt do them cuz of the writing limit (no thanks to tumblr haish) so i'll save them for another time. kinda wish i wrote this better but i was limited with time. thank you all for being so patient with me. also ngl when i wrote in the last author note that i would write about some 'big fight' i may or may not have half hearted just thrown that out without thinking much and then a lot of u guys became excited for it and then i was like omg how and where am i gonna fit that in XD so i just threw it in here with wonnie hope that's alright TT also this i am going to be on an hiatus from writing until further notice, just until im done with exams, but i'll still be lingering on tumblr and my ask box is always open :)

thank you for reading! reblog, like and comment if you liked this!

(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

The only thing that made Mondays bearable was your boyfriend, Jay.

Mondays were a little better because it meant seeing Jay after his shift in a cozy restaurant just around the corner where he worked as an apprentice chef.

Mondays meant him coming home and fixing you a delicious welcome home meal.

Jay was younger than you, but much more responsible and reliable, and you hated him for it. Lovingly.

He always made you forget that he was younger with how well he took care of you, how observant he was, and how patient he was with you.

When you walked in your apartment, which might as well be a shared apartment with how much Jay comes over, you noticed that the lights were on, which meant that Jay had let himself in.

As you approached the kitchen, the delicious aroma of roasted peanuts and sizzling vegetables started to wrap around you, and you could feel your stomach growl instantly.

You stepped in, and saw Jay’s back facing you, pink apron tied neatly around his waist, the bow well done.

You couldn’t help but snicker at the sight, the contrast in his all-black attire and the hot pink apron incredibly comical to you.

Jay turned his head at the sound of your laugh, an easy smile on his face, as if already expecting you, “Home already?” he asked anyway.

You nodded and slowly walked towards him, wrapping your arms around his back.

You peered at the dish he was preparing, it looked like simple ingredients, mushrooms, vegetables, but somehow Jay always made it taste and smell like something extraordinary.

He continued to stir while his other hand rested on yours as he gently brushed his thumb across your skin.

“Smells good,” you hum and he chuckles, “Of course, you have the boyfriend exclusive,” Jay says proudly and you let out an amused scoff.

“Should I set the table?” You ask and Jay shakes his head, “No my love, you go wash up, I’ll handle it,” he gives reassuring taps to your hand and you hum.

Your boyfriend was perfect in every way.

After being given the green light, you hesitantly release your hold on him and decide to wash up.

By the time you walked out of the shower fresh and no longer like cheap perfume, the table was already set tidily.

Two plates of dishes were placed uniformly on the table, and your eager boyfriend was already holding out a chair for you.

You smiled and Jay mirrored it.

You then took your seat and Jay took his.

Jay observes as he lets you take the first bite, as he always does, because according to him, your eyes melting and your soft hum of satisfaction as you take in the first bite of what he prepares for you is the highlight of his Mondays.

“It’s really good Jay,” you said, mouth full and still chewing, “That’s a relief,” he said, ever so humbly, as if he wasn’t a literal apprentice chef, “Eat up,” he smiled and took his own bite.

After dinner was done, Jay and you had moved from the dinner table to the couch, wine glasses in hand. You were seated at the side, back resting against the arm of the couch, your legs resting on his lap as he grazed his fingertips up and down along your legs, humming along to the report of how your day went.

“Then I said ‘Sorry but we don’t have it in this colour, perhaps you would like to try this’, but then she said to keep looking for it…” you took a sip of the wine before continuing, “Then she decided to blame me Jay. For not having it in store, like- that’s not what I do, I’m just trying to make better sales,” you shook your head, still bitter about the interaction between you and one of many rude customers at your job.

“That sounds tiring,” Jay hummed, nodding along, now softly massaging your legs.

You hummed and looked at him…he looked good like this.

Jay always looks good. He has a defined face, sharp and intelligent eyes, a handsome smile to go with it. He dressed and took care of himself well, and the way he carried himself, perfectly comfortable in his own skin, was like the cherry on top.

But like this, when he’s showing you a side he doesn’t show anyone else, when he’s looking at you with nothing but utter admiration and hearts practically shooting from his eyes, slightly tipsy, is when you think Jay looks his best.

“You’re being unfair,” you pouted, and Jay simply smiled, hands still softly kneading on your legs.

“Don’t just smile,” you furrow your eyebrows and put your glass aside, “And how exactly am I being unfair?” he raises his brow, his eyes boring into you lazily.

“You’re supposed to be younger than me, you know that right?” you said, almost sounding like a complaint, and Jay found it absolutely endearing.

“I am younger.”

“Yet you take care of me, you pamper me,” you replied, “I’ve never heard someone complain over something like that,” he chuckled.

He was completely right.

You yourself weren’t even sure why you were complaining about the fact that your boyfriend did too much of a great job in taking care of you.

“Not only me…” Jay reached for your jaw with one hand, caressing it with his thumb reassuringly, and you leaned into his touch, “You also take good care of yourself, you always look like a dream, while I look like a complete mess,” you frowned and Jay breathed out a laugh.

“I take care of you because I want to,” he said with ease, his hand sliding up further along your thighs now, “You’re really annoying,” you scoffed unimpressed, and he laughed softly.

“I take care of you because I want to, not cause I have to, and you’re doing a perfect job by yourself love,” Jay reassured you.

“Also,” he said, his gaze suddenly intensifying as he brought your hand to his face, pressing the palm onto his cheek, “I would love to really take care of you now too…noona,” he kissed your palm, eyes still locked into yours.

“Jay!” you pull your hands away again, completely flustered, maybe it was the alcohol, but you definitely started to feel like you were burning up.

“What? Can’t I?” he hummed in question, his hand sliding under your shorts.

Yup, you were definitely blaming the alcohol because now you felt hot all over, and you’re pretty sure that Jay had already noticed your flushed state.

“Don’t you want me to?” he asked as he leaned in, his hand now travelling further up to cup your ass, the touch of his hand warm against your skin.

When you don’t respond, Jay frowns momentarily, “I’ll ask it again,” he says, leaning even closer, “Do you want me to take care of you?..noona?”

That was it. That’s when you forgot how exhausted you were, how horrible Mondays were, how rude your customers were, because now, all you wanted to do was pounce on this man.

“I…I do…” your voice comes out barely in a whisper and Jay takes it as a sign to get up and pick you up bridal style effortlessly, like you weighed nothing.

“hey- what are you doing-”

Jay shot at you a sharp gaze, immediately shutting you up, “You really think the couch is big enough for me to fuck you until you go crazy? Not me Love, because I plan to go all out,” he grinned, and you start to feel your cheeks burn up and sink down into his hold, too flustered to respond.

Jay took wide and confident strides towards the bedroom and once he had you on the bed, all his patience and constraint was thrown out the window.

He pulled off his shirt and immediately got on top of you, propping himself with his elbow on your side and gripping your jaw with his other hand. Jay then crashes his lips against yours, welcoming you into a warm, wet, messy make out session.

When Jay pulled back, he began to kiss along your jaw, his hand slid down to your shorts and hooked his fingers at the waistband. You lift your hips and let him pull it off of you effortlessly.

Jay then pressed the pads of his fingers against your lips, and you open them, he inserts two fingers into your mouth.

“Suck on them baby, make it wet for me,” he said, low and primal.

You obliged, sucking on his fingers, lathering them with your spit, “So warm,” he hummed, “Wish I could slide my cock in your pretty mouth,” he sighed, pushing his fingers deeper.

He pushed again, and you choke when his digits reach the back of your throat.

“Fuck…I wish I could have you choke around my cock noona,” he said, maintaining a searing eye contact with you, and you feel your panties start to dampen with every word that leaves his mouth.

“You'd like that won’t you?” he asks, tilting his head slightly.

You nod, tears starting to prickle at the corner of your eyes as you squeezed them shut, all while Jay kept pushing his fingers deep in your mouth.

“But that’s for another day,” he said, pulling out his saliva coated fingers. You gasp, catching your breath and he chuckles, “Tonight…” Jay let out a shuddered sigh, his cock growing harder at the sight of you, underneath him, already so wrecked for him.

“I just want to take care of you,” he continued.

“Spread your legs for me love,” he whispered, and you did as he said.

You spread your legs wide and let Jay slither his hand under your panties

He didn’t give a warning, instead he pushed his wet fingers inside you as deep as he could, “Jay!” you gasped, fingers clawing into his arm. Jay hums knowingly, “That’s it, I know love,” he said, curling his fingers inside you so deliciously it had you writhing.

Your jaw hung law and your eyes squeezed shut as Jay’s fingers moved and squelched inside your weeping hole.

You remove your hands from his arm to bury your face in your palms, cheeks and ears getting red at the filthy words Jay kept feeding into your ear.

“No no no baby,” he clicked his tongue, “You don’t get to shy away from me. Put your hands away,” he commanded, and you slowly removed your hands away, gripping a handful of the bedsheet instead.

“Don’t hide from me, please,” he kissed your forehead, a contrast to what his fingers were doing to your body.

“You’re so fucking hot noona,” he said and started to slam his digits in and out, “You take what I give you so well.”

“Jay….hah- ngh shit…” you were barely able to form coherent words, and stopped trying altogether, your moans leaving your mouth with no more hesitation, no more constraint. Just shamelessly moaning for him.

“That’s it noona, lemme know how good I make you feel,” he groaned, “You like my fingers in you?”

You nodded, each word that left his mouth making a new wave of wetness gush out of you, “You like it when I- curl my fingers like that?” Jay’s fingers dug deeper in you and curled just enough to reach your g-spot, pulling out a choked gasp out of you.

“Yeah…that’s it. Clench around my fingers,” His voice was guttural and predatory, his eyes boring into you like he could lose his cool at any time.

“Wanna cum baby?” He asked, almost taunting.

You nodded, eyes squeezed shut and face contorted in pleasure as Jay started to rub on your swollen clit with his thumb, his fingers still moving about between your velvety walls. Fingers coated in an obscure amount of wetness.

“Beg for it.”

You opened your eyes, eyebrows furrowed, cheeks turning red, “I…i- ah!” You screamed as Jay added another finger without warning.

“I’m not repeating myself noona, beg. If you want to cum,” his voice is low, serious, demanding.

Jay stops moving his fingers, just buried three of his digits in you. You feel so full, so much, yet nothing, it wasn’t enough.

“Please…” your voice comes out barely a whisper.

Jay sighed, pulling back his fingers. You whine at his teasing, “Please what?” he taunts.

“Please make me cum jay please please!” You arched your back as he tapped his thumb against your clit.

Jay dives his fingers into you, the pace frantic. Your hole sucks his fingers back in every time he pulls them back.

Your climax builds up, so dangerously close to roaring through your whole body.

Jay slams in his fingers one last time, curling them in you, and your body jolts, back arched, your orgasm making your walls flutter around his fingers, clenching around them so tightly.

“Fuck noona, ride it out for me like a good girl, that's it,” he moaned breathily.

Jay kissed along your jaw as he pulled out.

You let out a soft sigh and automatically clench around nothing at the lack of fullness.

“My pretty baby,” he muttered, then got up.

You don’t even have time to process,

Jay suddenly flips you around.

You gasp, legs still weak and trembling from your climax.

“On your knees for me baby,” he whispers in your ear.

You move weakly, propping yourself up by your knees, hands placed on the top rail of the headboard to hold yourself up.

Jay leaned in, your back flush against his chest, sweat sticking onto his skin as your body chased after his out of instinct.

You could feel his hardness poking at your rear. Jay hissed, humping your plump cheeks, “Fuck…” he sighed and snaked his hands down to hold your waist while he left trails of kisses along your shoulders.

“Want to be in you so bad noona,” he whispered in a low and shaky voice, and goosebumps spread throughout your whole body.

You wanted him in you, wanted him to fill you up to the brim, make you dizzy just from his cock, just as he always has.

You dipped your head low at the thought, moving your hips to grind your ass along his length.

Jay hummed as his fingers dug deeper into your skin, grinding his cock harder against you.

He continues to leave kisses along your skin as he pulls down his pants and briefs down to his knees clumsily.

His breath shudders once he’s flush against you again, his cock, erect and eager, prodding at your entrance, already clenching for him.

His bulbous tip starts to nudge your entrance, and you grip the top rail of the headboard harder. Jay starts to push his length in, the thickness of his cock slowly but surely stretching you open.

He kissed your ear, not concealing his sounds. His moans are low and hollow, becoming louder each time he hears your own moans.

Jay finally pushes his whole length inside you, filling your aching pussy so perfectly you’re convinced that he was made just for you.

“Shit…” he cursed and started to move his hips slowly, not giving you time to first adjust to the luscious stretch, “Jay…” you moaned.

He kissed your ear again, “I know baby…I know,” he cooed, pulling out and dragging his length back in again, his grip on your waist tight and bruising.

“Harder…please,” you say softly, shyly.

Jay chuckles softly at your meek request. You sounded so sweet, so pathetic as

You were begging for more of him, more of his cock.

“Yeah? Want me to ram my fucking cock into you noona?” He purrs in your ear and you respond enthusiastically with a soft whine.

Jay pulls away and your back grows cold from his absence, he lazily drags his cock along your dripping walls, hissing and groaning each time he enters back into you.

He delivers a spank to your cheek, and your body jolts at the impact, and you clench around him.

“Hey- you can’t clench like that,” he huffs out a laugh, “Or else I’m gonna cum in you noona.”

You clench again.

His hip twitches, “Christ…you want that? Want me to fill you up?”

You moan softly in response, and Jay delivers another spank to your skin.

“You’re fucking hot,” he groans and throws his head back, thrusting into you harder, faster, deeper.

Your body jolts forward with each thrust of his cock, the headboard hitting the wall each time. He’s no longer soft and gentle with you. Instead, he’s pistoning his cock desperately and roughly into your cunt, trying to get even deeper into you with each thrust.

You moan, whine, whimper, and Jay just keeps abusing your hole by slamming in his hard cock.

You feel weak, trembling underneath him, body quivering, barely holding yourself up. Jay’s strength and drive makes up for it, holding you in place, holding you up by your waist with a bruising grip as he relentlessly drills his length along the rims of your slippery walls.

You start to feel your walls flutter, fire pooling inside your stomach, a telltale sign of yet another rippling climax arriving.

“Jay- ah-” his hard thrusts makes your words incoherent, “Fuck yes baby, take it all in, your pussy’s practically sucking in my cock,” he smacks your ass again, the sound bouncing off the bedroom walls along with the wet filthy squelching sounds.

You move your hips back against him, desperate to reach your climax, “Fuuuck,” Jay drawled, letting you fuck him back, slamming his hips against yours at the same time, “That’s it, fucking make yourself cream on my cock, make yourself feel good, that’s it baby.”

Your arms let go of the headboard, falling down into the sheets and gripping them

You bury your head into the sheets, your loud moans muffled by it.

You come undone around him, wetness gushing out of you as your overwhelming orgasm takes over your body.

Jay’s thrusts turn into frantic ones, no rhythm, no tempo, just pure desperation. His hip twitches against yours with one last deep thrust and he empties in you, his release coating your walls as he lets out a gravelly moan.

Jay fucks you through it, deep and slow, making sure he empties himself completely inside you, not allowing one drop to leave your cum filled pussy.

He pulls out and releases you from his hold, your legs give up immediately and you plop down on the bed, catching your breath.

Jay plops down next to you, his chest rising and falling, beads of sweat sticking to his honey dew skin.

You face him, completely out of it and breathless. You look carefully at Jay’s perfectly structured face, hair ruffled, that same handsome smile tugging his lips, and it makes you even more breathless.

He brings up a hand to push away loose strands of hair, his hand moves down and along to your back, pulling you close to him.

“Thank you…” you inhaled, your breath getting steady and calm.

Jay chuckles, “Why are you suddenly thanking me?” he asks, giving small pats to your back.

“You’re always taking care of me,” you answered, lazy yet sincere.

Jay kisses the top of your head, taking in your scent, “Of course love, I will always take care of you.”

©archivojjong 2026. All Rights Reserved.

𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ𓂃۶ৎ