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The morning air in the classroom was thick with the scent of sugar and fresh paper. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, catching the glitter on a cascade of streamers that you had spent an hour meticulously taping to the ceiling. Today was a birthday, and for a six-year-old, that was an event of seismic proportions. You were in the thick of it, a whirlwind of vibrant chaos, your hands sticky with frosting from the small nibble you'd taken from a rogue cupcake and your cheeks aching from the smile you’d already been wearing for forty-five minutes. This was your domain, the place where you were in total control, a universe of construction paper and crayon portraits, where the biggest problem of the day was a spilled juice box.

You hummed a little tune, your focus on the stack of bright yellow paper plates you were fanning out like a deck of cards. You had a system, a carefully choreographed dance of preparation that allowed you to handle the twenty tiny humans about to burst through your door, each one buzzing with pre-party energy. The quiet moments before they arrived were precious, a brief interlude of calm before the storm. You adjusted a few balloons, a soft hum of contentment in your chest. This was why you did this. This feeling of creating a small, joyful haven for little hearts and big imaginations.

A sudden, sharp sound jolted you from your rhythm. The classroom door didn’t just open, it was shoved inward with a panicked, uncoordinated haste. Before you could even register the motion, something collided with you. A mountain of brightly colored bags and boxes, topped by a large, flat box of chocolates, suddenly became airborne, raining down around you and scattering across the linoleum floor. The collision itself wasn't forceful, just a clumsy, unexpected meeting of two people who were both clearly in a hurry.

You stumbled back a step, a soft "Oh!" escaping your lips as you found yourself face to face with a wall of dark, tailored fabric. The man in front of you was a study in controlled chaos. He stood frozen, his eyes wide with apology, his arms now comically empty. He was tall, with broad shoulders that seemed to be fighting against the constraints of a crisp, button-down shirt. His hair was a light, dusty blonde, slightly tousled as if he’d been running his hands through it in frustration. But it was his eyes that held your attention—a deep, intelligent brown, currently filled with a mix of exhaustion and genuine alarm.

A small, shy voice from behind him broke the momentary silence. "Papa, look!"

You saw her then, clinging to his hand, a little girl with big, curious eyes, dressed in a party dress that shimmered with confetti. She was peering around his legs, her excitement palpable despite her shyness. Jina Bahng.

The man immediately knelt, his composure returning in an instant. "I am so, so sorry," he said again, his voice a low, gravelly baritone that felt entirely too calm for the situation. "I wasn't looking where I was going. My hands were a little… full."

You knelt too, the two of you now on your knees in a sea of presents. You reached for a silver-wrapped box, your fingers just grazing his as he reached for the same one. The contact was brief, barely a touch, but it sent a small jolt through your system, a tiny spark of awareness that you immediately suppressed. His hand was warm, his skin a pleasant contrast to the cool plastic of the gift box. You pulled your hand back with a polite smile, your professional veneer snapping back into place.

"It's no problem at all," you said, your voice light and reassuring. "No harm done. We've just started the party early." You picked up a few more scattered items and placed them in a growing pile.

He followed suit, his movements quick and efficient, but you noticed the subtle slump of his shoulders, the tired lines etched around his eyes. He wasn't just in a hurry; he was exhausted. You saw it in the way his jaw was just slightly too tight, in the small, almost imperceptible tremor of his hand as he stacked the gifts. He was composed, yes, but it was the kind of composure that came from years of practice, a calm urgency that felt like a permanent state of being.

"Dad," his daughter said again, her voice a little louder this time, filled with a sudden, bursting pride. Jina pointed at you with a small, pudgy finger. "That's my favorite teacher."

The words acted like a switch. The lines of tension around his eyes softened. The tight jaw relaxed. He turned to his daughter, and a smile finally reached his face, a genuine, warm thing that transformed his features. It was like watching the sun come out from behind a cloud.

"I know, sweetie," he said to her, his voice a different texture now, softer, full of a gentle adoration that was a stark contrast to his earlier formality. "That's why we brought all these nice things for her class." He then looked back at you, the warmth from his daughter's affection still lingering in his expression. "She talks about you constantly. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," you said, your smile feeling more genuine now. You greeted the little girl warmly, crouching down so you were at her eye level. "Happy birthday, sweetie. Thank you so much for bringing all the presents. Your dad must be a great helper."

The little girl beamed, and her dad’s smile softened even further. It was a heartwarming interaction, a small, quiet moment of connection in the midst of the morning chaos. It felt familiar, this warmth you shared with your students, but with him, it was a brand new, unexpected feeling. He was so completely focused on her, his eyes full of a protective love that was almost breathtaking.

He stood up, gathering the last of the gifts, his hands now full and steady. "Thank you for the extra effort with all this," he said, his tone polite, but a hint of that earlier distance was back. "It means a lot to us." It was a practiced phrase, courteous and correct, but it held him at arm's length.

You watched him as he settled his daughter in with her friends, a quiet intensity in his movements. You knew the whispers about him. They weren't mean, just curious. Parents in the pick-up line would murmur about "the young single dad who keeps to himself" and "the one who's always in a rush." You had heard it all, but you never paid much mind. You had your own life, your own work, and you knew better than to speculate on the lives of others. But watching him now, with his quiet intensity and his carefully controlled exhaustion, you found yourself feeling a flicker of that curiosity, a tiny seed of a question about the life he was rushing back to.

As the morning continued, the classroom was soon filled with the happy, cacophonous sound of six-year-olds celebrating. You were busy handing out plates of cake when you noticed a small, folded piece of paper lying next to the stack of birthday cards. It was a simple, hand-drawn card, obviously made by his daughter. You opened it, and your heart did a small, quiet flip. Inside was a crayon drawing of a stick figure with a huge smile and a caption in wobbly letters: “Dad working hard.”

You filed the card away, placing it in a folder for keepsakes, but you couldn't shake the image from your mind. It was a small, innocent glimpse into his world, a world of responsibility and quiet struggle that was hidden behind his formal politeness. You wondered what "working hard" meant for him. Was it a job? Was it the work of being a single parent? Was it the work of simply getting through the day?

Later, as the party wound down and the children were absorbed in a game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, he came back to the door, a quick, polite farewell on his lips. "Thanks again," he said, his eyes meeting yours briefly across the room. The look was fleeting, but it was enough. It was a hint of unspoken warmth, a shared understanding of the small, messy chaos of the morning. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that cool, unreadable politeness.

You found yourself analyzing the encounter for the rest of the day, a tiny, insistent voice in your mind picking apart every moment. You noted his formality, the way he seemed to be actively trying to maintain a professional distance. You wondered why he felt so guarded. You were just a teacher, a stranger he met at the door. Why did you feel like you had to earn a moment of his vulnerability?

You internally scolded yourself for noticing his voice, the way it had changed when he spoke to his daughter. You told yourself to stop noticing the quiet strength in his posture, the weary lines around his eyes. This was not a person to be analyzed, to be wondered about. He was a parent. He was Christopher Bahng, and he was polite, protective, and utterly unreadable.

Later that evening, long after the last child had been picked up and the last streamer had been taken down, you sat at your desk, the events of the morning replaying in your mind. You pulled out a small notebook where you jotted down notes about your students. You found an empty page and wrote his name.

Mr. Bahng

Below it, you wrote three words, a small, professional summary of your morning.

polite, protective, unreadable.

His name lingered in your mind longer than you’d like. It felt weighty, more significant than it should. You sighed, the sound echoing in the quiet classroom, and reminded yourself: he was a parent, nothing more. And you were a teacher. That was all there was. That was all it could ever be.

A week and a half passed in the predictable rhythm of the school year, but a new, almost imperceptible hum had entered your routine. It was an anticipation, a quiet, low thrum that started every morning and ended every afternoon with the last parent leaving the parking lot. You told yourself it was just the excitement of a new season, the crisp air and the gold light of autumn, but you knew, with a certainty that both thrilled and unsettled you, that it was because of him. The parent-teacher meetings were scheduled for this week, and you had his name circled on your calendar.

The day arrived, and with it, the quiet hum in your chest became a full-blown vibration. The door opened and in walked Mr. Bahng, dressed not in his usual casual, but still-hurried, button-down, but in a sharp, dark suit that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. The change was stark, almost intimidating. It was a uniform of professionalism, a clear signal that he was here for one purpose and one purpose only. He looked both younger and older, the formal clothes highlighting the lean, powerful lines of his body, but also the deep exhaustion in his eyes. He was a study in contradictions, and you found yourself completely transfixed for a moment. He seemed more reserved than ever, a fortress of calm professionalism, with a posture that screamed, “Do not approach.”

He sat down in the small chair across from your desk, a small, formal smile on his face. He held a simple black notebook in his hands, his fingers tapping the cover lightly, a nervous tell that gave you a fleeting glimpse behind the carefully constructed wall.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Miss [L/n],” he said, his voice a low, steady rumble that instantly soothed the frantic beat of your heart.

“Please, call me Miss. [Your Name],” you said, your own voice feeling a little too light in the quiet room. You immediately chided yourself for it. Too familiar. Too soon. You straightened your posture and pulled a folder of papers toward you, the crinkle of the manila a reassuring sound of professional normalcy.

The discussion began, and as you spoke about his daughter’s progress, you noticed he was a surprisingly good listener. He didn’t just nod politely; he was truly engaged. His gaze never left your face, and he would occasionally interject with a thoughtful question.

“Her reading is coming along wonderfully. Her vocabulary is really expanding,” you said, your voice full of genuine pride for the little girl.

He smiled, a quiet, almost imperceptible turn of his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s good. She’s been spending a lot of time in the library lately. She wants to read books to her stuffed animals.” He paused, his gaze dropping to the notebook in his lap. “Is she… is she making friends okay? She’s a little bit quiet sometimes, and I just worry she might be… lonely.”

The subtle shift in his tone, from engaged parent to a worried father, was almost heartbreaking. You saw the familiar anxiety return to his eyes, the deep-seated concern that was a part of his very being. You immediately softened, your own professional boundaries blurring just a little.

“She’s doing so well, Mr. Bahng,” you said, your voice gentle and reassuring. “She’s not lonely at all. She has a few close friends, and she’s incredibly loved by her classmates. She has a very kind, gentle spirit, and the other children gravitate toward her. Sometimes, being shy is just a part of who you are, and that’s perfectly okay. It doesn’t mean she’s not happy.”

He looked up, a quiet relief washing over his features. “Thank you,” he said, the words heavy with a sincerity that hadn’t been there before. “That’s really good to hear.”

You continued to talk about her work, and as you went through her folder, you casually mentioned her family projects. You saw a piece of her art that depicted a sunny garden with a mother, father, and daughter, the drawing clearly from last year’s Mother’s Day activity. You had forgotten about it. The word “Mom” was in the title. As soon as your eyes fell upon it, his expression shifted. The polite, engaged mask he’d been wearing slammed shut. His jaw tightened, and his eyes became curt and closed off, a curtain drawing over a scene you weren’t meant to see.

You immediately noticed the change and respected it. You smoothly redirected the conversation, turning the page and moving on to another art project. You didn’t need to ask. The abruptness of his reaction told you everything you needed to know. It was a sensitive topic. It was a boundary you were not meant to cross. You silently chided yourself for the misstep.

The meeting ended with his quiet thanks, a sincerity buried deep underneath the professional reserve. As he stood to leave, he lingered for a moment. “Thank you again, for everything you do. She’s a lucky girl to have you as her teacher.” His words were simple, but they felt like a quiet confession of gratitude.

You watched him leave, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you. You were happy the meeting had gone well, but also sad to see him go. You found yourself wishing for more time, for a glimpse behind the carefully constructed wall he’d built around himself.

Later that evening, after a long day and a quiet dinner, you were scrolling through your phone when a text notification came through. It was from an unfamiliar number. “Thank you again for our meeting today. It’s comforting to know she’s in such good hands.” The tone was formal, courteous, and polite. It was a carefully worded message from a man who chose every word with great care. You responded briefly, a simple, "You're welcome. It was my pleasure," but you couldn’t help the soft, goofy smile that spread across your face as you read his message again. It felt like a small, private secret between the two of you.

The next morning, jina came up to your desk, her small hands holding a meticulously folded piece of paper. “This is for you,” she said, her voice a little shy but her eyes bright.

You unfolded it carefully. It was a drawing of a stick figure version of you, and another taller stick figure, wearing a tie, labeled "Dad." They were standing together, with a small stick figure girl holding their hands. The drawing was innocent and sweet, but a powerful, secret wave of emotion washed over you. The warmth in your chest was undeniable. You tucked it away in your desk, secretly charmed and a little overwhelmed by the profound innocence of her drawing. It was a simple piece of art, but it said everything.

In the staffroom, the whispers continued. You heard the hushed conversations about “the young single dad who keeps to himself” and the strange, formal way he always conducted himself. You pushed the talk away, a silent wave of annoyance washing over you. They didn’t know him. They didn’t know the subtle weariness in his eyes, the quiet love he had for his daughter. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity. It was a part of him that was visible to everyone, this quiet privacy, but it only made you wonder more about what he was hiding, what he was protecting.

Drop-offs and pick-ups were brief and polite, a quick smile, a brief wave, and a polite nod from him as he rushed away. But you started to notice the small things. The deeper circles under his eyes, the small flinch of his shoulders when a car horn blared. He looked tired lately, even more so than he had on the day you met.

One morning, you were standing at the door, handing out permission slips for a field trip. He walked up, his eyes a little unfocused, a tired sigh escaping his lips. You reached out to hand him the form, and as he reached to take it, your fingers brushed again. The contact was brief, but it sent a small jolt, a surprising electrical current that traveled up your arm and made your breath catch in your throat. He pulled his hand back immediately, a polite apology on his lips, but his eyes held yours for a fraction of a second too long.

You internally berated yourself for the rest of the day. He was a parent. This was inappropriate. This was just a small, insignificant part of your job. But every time you thought about it, that small, electric jolt returned, a physical reminder of the unspoken connection.

That night, lying in bed, your mind refused to calm. You found yourself thinking of his quiet smile, the way his voice had softened when he spoke to his daughter, the tired lines around his eyes. You had to stop. This was a professional relationship. Nothing more. But the name “Christopher” kept whispering in the back of your mind. What would he sound like if he said your name? What would his voice be like without the professional veneer, without the walls he’d built around himself? You caught yourself thinking of it, of him, and you felt a small, secret flush of shame.

You got up and went to your desk, pulling out the small notebook you kept for professional notes. You turned to the page you had dedicated to him and added another line.

Professional. Maintain distance.

The words were a reminder, a warning, a line you drew in the sand, but you knew, even as you wrote them, that your heart was already trying to cross it.

The weeks following the parent-teacher meeting settled into a new, more intimate rhythm. The polite, hurried exchanges at the door began to linger a few moments longer. Mr. Bahng no longer just dropped his daughter off with a quick, formal wave and rushed away. Now, he would stand just inside the doorway, his hand resting on her small head, a quiet anchor in her bright, busy morning. His eyes would watch as she navigated the familiar sea of backpacks and cubbies, his gaze following her until she had found her place with her friends or settled into a morning activity. He seemed to be trying to find a reason to stay, a small, subtle shift in his usual protective haste that felt both incredibly vulnerable and deeply telling. The tension in his shoulders, a constant companion in the first two chapters, now seemed to ebb just a little as he watched his daughter settle into the comfort of her classroom. The careful, rigid posture of the professional was slowly, quietly giving way to the gentle, weary posture of a father just trying to find a moment of peace.

One crisp, October morning, the air sharp and cool, she ran off to play with her friends, her small backpack bouncing with her steps. He remained in the doorway, a thoughtful expression on his face, his gaze on the small, smiling figure in the back of the classroom. You walked up to him, a casual, friendly smile on your face, your own internal rules of distance quietly crumbling with every passing day.

“Everything okay, Mr. Bahng?” you asked, your voice soft and low, a question that was part professional courtesy and part something else, something softer and more personal.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting to the worn leather shoes he was wearing, and then back up to your face. He was clearly debating whether to answer with his usual, curt politeness or with something a little more honest. You held your breath, the air between you thick with a quiet anticipation. He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar, weary gesture a sign that he was truly, deeply tired.

“Work’s heavy,” he said finally, the words a quiet sigh rather than a statement. “It’s been a lot of late nights. I feel like I haven’t had a proper conversation with her in days.” He didn't elaborate, but he didn't have to. You could see it in the deeper circles under his eyes, in the way his shoulders slumped just a little, in the tired set of his mouth. His guardedness didn’t feel cold anymore; it felt like a fragile shield, a wall that was on the verge of cracking under the weight of his exhaustion.

You nodded, a quiet understanding passing between you. You didn’t press him for more, didn’t pry into the details of his work. You just let the silence settle, a shared space of empathy that was more powerful than any conversation.

As if on cue, his daughter, in her world of crayon and glitter, walked up to you, a new drawing clutched in her hand. "Look, Dad!" she said, her voice a cheerful, bright sound that cut through the tired hum of the adults. She held up the paper, a masterpiece of bright green grass and a vivid blue sky. There were two stick figures, a man and a woman, sitting on a red blanket, a basket of food between them. A small stick figure girl stood beside them, a huge smile on her face. "It's a picture of us, having a picnic," she said, her smile wide and proud.

He chuckled softly, a low, warm sound that made your heart flutter. He knelt down, his gaze full of a tender love for his daughter. “You’ve been busy,” he said, ruffling her hair. He then looked up at you, his eyes filled with a quiet amusement. “She really likes you,” he murmured, the compliment a sweet, unexpected thing that felt both professional and deeply personal.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a pleasant flush of happiness that you tried to hide behind a polite, professional smile. “I like her too,” you said, your voice a little softer than you intended. “She’s a wonderful little girl.”

A few days later, a small class mishap occurred. It was nothing serious—a tumble during a game of tag, a scraped knee, and a few tears. But the moment his daughter fell, and the moment he saw it from the doorway, his entire demeanor changed. The calm, composed facade he wore every day shattered. His protective panic was raw, a visceral, instant reaction that you hadn’t seen before. He rushed to his daughter, his face a mask of fear, his hands hovering over her as if he wanted to scoop her up and shield her from the entire world.

You were there first, a steady, calming presence. You knelt beside her, a gentle hand on her back, your voice a soft, soothing hum as you checked her knee and reassured her she was fine. He watched you, the fear in his eyes slowly receding as he saw your quiet authority, your practiced steadiness. He saw you weren’t just a teacher; you were a constant, a rock in the middle of a world that felt, to him, so out of control.

Later, after you had bandaged her knee with a bright purple bandage and sent her back to her friends, he came to you, a quiet apology on his lips. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and a little shaky. “I just… I just don’t handle things well sometimes. She’s my whole world. Sometimes it feels like if I blink, something bad will happen.”

That afternoon, as you were leaving, you saw him. He was sitting in his car in the parking lot, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with a quiet, exhausted sigh. It was the first time you had ever seen him break. He wasn't just tired; he was overwhelmed. The perfect facade had a crack, and you couldn't look away.

You hesitated, your professional instincts screaming at you to keep walking. But the sight of him, so vulnerable and alone, was too much. You walked over and gently tapped on his window. He flinched, startled, and looked up at you, his eyes red-rimmed and full of a quiet shame.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, your voice a gentle hum, the kind of voice you reserved for a child who had a bad day.

He took a deep breath, and then another. "I'm sorry," he said again, his voice strained. "Sometimes… sometimes it just gets to be a lot. The work, the worry… it all just sort of piles up." It was the most honest thing he had ever said to you. It was a crack in the wall, a window into the lonely world he lived in.

You reassured him gently, your tone professional but warm, a fine line you were now expertly walking. “It’s okay,” you said. “It’s normal to feel overwhelmed sometimes. Being a parent is a lot of work. You’re doing a great job.”

As you spoke, his phone rang. He looked at the screen, a look of tired dread on his face. He answered, and the conversation was short and tense. You could only hear his side of it, but the tone of his voice was sharp, and his jaw was clenched. He hung up and let out a long, shuddering breath. "I'm so sorry," he said, turning to you, his face a mix of shame and frustration. "My apologies for all of this. I didn't mean to…" he trailed off.

“It’s okay,” you said, your voice full of genuine empathy. He wasn't just a parent. He was Christopher Bahng, a man who was fighting a lonely, exhausting battle, and for a fleeting moment, he had let you in.

He left with a faint, "Thank you, Miss [Reader]," the words still formal, but laced with a new kind of sincerity, a quiet gratitude for your patience and your understanding.

That night, a short message arrived on your phone. It was from the same number as before. “Appreciate your patience today. I hope she didn’t worry you too much.” The message was still polite, still formal, but there was a new undertone, a friendly current beneath the surface of the words.

You felt something shift inside you. It was no longer just a professional obligation. His presence, his quiet vulnerability, his exhausted honesty… it was all lingering in your mind. You told yourself not to overthink it, but you knew it was too late. His name was no longer just a name; it was a feeling.

His daughter, in her innocent way, became more attached. She would linger by your desk in the mornings, a small conspirator. "Dad likes my teacher," she said to you once, her eyes wide and serious. You laughed it off, your heart skipping a beat, but the words echoed in your mind for the rest of the day.

A week later, a simple, polite text arrived about an upcoming school supplies list. It was a mundane message, but it felt strangely personal now. The name “Mr. Bahng” was no longer a distant, formal title. It was something else entirely. It was a quiet hum, a small jolt, and a word that now held a new, fragile meaning in your heart.

The simple, polite text about school supplies had been the thin end of the wedge. It had opened a door, and in the quiet, late-night hours, a new kind of rhythm began to emerge between the two of you. The texts were no longer just about school-related updates. The brief, formal exchanges about field trips and permission slips now included small talk, an easy, gentle hum of conversation that felt both exhilarating and deeply dangerous. You would type out a quick question about a missing form, and his response would come back with an observation about the weather, a brief thought on his day, or a casual, quiet inquiry about yours.

“Looks like rain tomorrow. Hope the kids have a good indoor recess,” he might text. And you’d find yourself smiling at the simple, mundane kindness of it all.

“Hope your long day ends soon,” you’d type in return, a warmth spreading through your chest as you hit send.

The boundaries you had so carefully drawn around yourself, the professional distance you had worked so hard to maintain, were slowly and irrevocably blurring. It wasn’t a dramatic collapse, but a subtle erosion, a slow, gentle wearing away of the walls. It was in the way his name would flash on your screen and your heart would do a small, happy flip. It was in the small, shared jokes about the chaos of the classroom or the struggles of putting together a complicated toy. It was in the unspoken language of tired sighs and knowing glances that passed between you in the school hallway.

One brisk morning, a shipment of new art supplies arrived at the school, a small mountain of boxes filled with new easels and vibrant buckets of paint. You were struggling to get them from the delivery bay to your classroom, your arms full and your back protesting with every step. You were about to make a second trip when you heard a low, warm voice behind you.

“Looks like you could use a hand with that,” Christopher said, a polite smile on his face as he effortlessly scooped two of the heaviest boxes into his arms. He didn't wait for your answer. He just started walking, a quiet, efficient helper who seemed to anticipate your needs without being asked.

You were so surprised by his unexpected offer that you could only stammer out a quick, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he said, the words light and easy, a stark contrast to his usual guardedness. He was in his usual work clothes, a tailored suit that seemed to have no trouble with the heavy lifting, but the sleeves were pushed up to his forearms, a casual, appealing gesture that made your breath catch in your throat. He didn’t seem to notice your fluster. He just walked, his movements easy and confident, a silent, comforting presence beside you.

When you reached the classroom, you placed your boxes down with a grateful sigh. He set his down with a soft thud. “There you go,” he said, his voice a low, pleasing rumble.

“Thank you so much, you didn’t have to do that,” you said, your cheeks a little flushed. “I would have managed.”

“I know you would have,” he said, his smile softening just a little. “But it was a lot. And I’ve seen you manage enough on your own.” The words were so quiet, so sincere, that they felt like a private, intimate confession.

It was in that moment that one of your colleagues walked by, a quick, teasing grin on their face. “Wow, you two already look like a team! It’s like you’ve been doing this forever.” The comment was a lighthearted joke, but it hit a little too close to home.

Your cheeks flushed a deeper red. You could feel your composure cracking. You opened your mouth to stammer a denial, to brush it off as a simple, good deed, but the words wouldn’t come. You felt a wave of professional shame wash over you. This was not okay. This was too much.

Christopher, on the other hand, just gave a quiet, polite chuckle. He seemed amused by your fluster, a fleeting, almost imperceptible gleam in his eyes. He said nothing, but his silence was a form of complicity, an unspoken acknowledgment of the small, awkward bubble of intimacy that had formed around the two of you. He simply gave a polite nod to your colleague and then turned back to you, his expression once again unreadable.

You were grateful for his quick, professional pivot, but the moment lingered. The thought of the two of you as a "team," a unit, was a dangerous, heady thing. You tried to brush it off, but the image stayed with you.

That day, during the art lesson, you watched him as he picked up his daughter. She had a streak of bright blue paint on her cheek, and she was laughing, a pure, uninhibited sound that made his face soften in a way you had never seen before. His eyes, usually so guarded and weary, were filled with a pure, unadulterated joy. He reached out and gently wiped the paint from her cheek, his movements tender and full of a quiet adoration that was breathtaking. You watched the entire exchange, and you felt a warmth spread through you, a feeling of deep, quiet fondness for a man who seemed to have so little light in his life, and so much love in his heart.

A few days later, a situation arose that shattered his composure in a way you hadn’t seen before. He was waiting at the school entrance, his daughter running around with her friends, when his phone rang. He answered it, and his face instantly turned to stone. The cheerful, morning light seemed to drain from his features, leaving him pale and strained. His eyes were wide with a kind of quiet panic, and his hand, holding the phone, was shaking. You couldn't hear his conversation, but you could see the stress radiating from him in waves. He was frozen, a statue of quiet, controlled panic.

You instinctively walked over to him, your hands clasped behind your back to keep from reaching out. Your voice was a calm, steady anchor in the sudden, silent storm around him. “Are you okay?” you asked, your tone soft and low, a secret message just for him.

He looked at you, his eyes wide and a little unfocused. He let out a long, shaky breath, and you noticed the faint tremor of his hands. You saw him try to regain control, to pull his mask of composure back on, but it was too late. The crack was already there. You could see the fear in his eyes.

"I’m sorry, I just…” he trailed off.

You knew what he needed. He needed to breathe. You calmly guided him to a quiet corner of the hallway. “Just breathe,” you said, your voice a soft, reassuring hum. “Take a deep breath in. Hold it. Now let it out. Just like that.” You repeated the instructions, your voice a gentle, constant presence.

He followed your lead, his eyes still wide, but the panic in them slowly receded. He took another breath, and another, and the shaking in his hands lessened. He was surprised at your patience, at your quiet strength. He was a man who was used to being in control, and now he had someone who was taking care of him, even for just a moment.

When he was finally calm, he looked at you, his eyes full of a quiet, profound gratitude. He let out a long, shuddering breath. He felt humiliated, you could see it in the slight flush on his neck, in the way he wouldn’t meet your gaze. He was a man who was used to carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he hated showing weakness.

He leaned against the wall, his head bowed. "I hate that you saw that," he said, his voice a quiet, raw whisper. "I’m not… I’m not usually like that. It just gets to be a lot sometimes. I feel like I'm failing."

You shook your head. “Christopher,” you said, your own voice a little shaky from the intimacy of using his first name, “everyone needs a breather sometimes. You’re not failing. You’re human. You’re doing your best, and that’s more than enough. You're a wonderful father."

The words were simple, but they felt like a lifeline. He looked up at you, his eyes a little red-rimmed, and he gave you a small, quiet, sincere smile. "Thank you,” he said. The words were heavy with emotion, and they hung in the air between you like a sacred promise.

That night, a longer message arrived on your phone. It was from him.

Thank you for today. It meant more to me than you could possibly know. You have a quiet strength about you, a calmness I haven’t seen in a long time.

You typed a response, a professional, polite, "You're welcome. It was my pleasure," but it felt wrong. You deleted it. You typed out another response, a more personal one, and then deleted that too. Finally, you settled on something that was a little of both, a tentative step across the line.

Anytime, Mr. Bahng.

The response came back almost instantly.

You can call me Christopher, if that’s easier.

The words were so simple, so quiet, so much a mirror of the intimacy you had shared just hours before. You stared at the screen, your heart hammering in your chest. The name “Christopher” felt strange on your fingers, strange and intimate and dangerous.

You typed it out, a small, quiet acknowledgment. You didn’t use it in a full sentence. You just typed the name and hit send, a quiet, almost shy acceptance of his invitation.

The next day, you tried it. He was at drop-off, and he had a question about a school project. “Oh, Christopher,” you said, and the name, on your lips, felt both strange and familiar, as if it had always been there, waiting to be said. He smiled, a genuine, easy smile that reached his eyes, and your heart did a small, quiet flip.

You mostly stuck to “Mr. Bahng” after that. It felt safer, more professional. But the name “Christopher” lingered in your mind. It was a word that now held a new, private meaning, a secret between the two of you.

You started sharing more jokes, your brief exchanges now laced with a tension that was more friendly than romantic, a shared, comfortable space of easy conversation. The daughter, in her innocent way, became a quiet, little conspirator. “Dad smiles more now,” she said to you once, her eyes wide and serious. You pretended not to care, brushing her off with a laugh, but your cheeks warmed, and you couldn’t help but feel a quiet, secret pride.

It was during a school fundraiser, a bake sale, that another parent mistook you for a couple. You were standing next to Christopher, laughing at a joke he had just made, when a mother you recognized from the class came up to you, her eyes wide with a conspiratorial grin. “You two make such a cute couple,” she said, her voice a loud whisper. “It’s so nice to see him so happy.”

An awkward silence descended upon the two of you. You felt a wave of professional dread. You could feel Christopher tense beside you, his entire body going rigid. The mother, realizing her mistake, quickly apologized and hurried away, but the thought stayed. The air between you felt thick with a quiet, unspoken question.

You laughed it off, a strained, nervous sound that didn't quite reach your eyes. He did too, a polite, forced chuckle. But the awkward silence lingered.

That night, alone in your respective homes, you both thought the same thing.

Professional, remember?

But the thought was a quiet, desperate whisper against the loud, insistent hum of a new, more intimate reality. You knew, with a sinking feeling, that the lines had been so thoroughly blurred that you could no longer find the difference between them.

The next significant event on the school calendar was a fundraiser, a fancy evening gala for parents and community members, designed to raise money for new library books and playground equipment. You knew it was a night you had to attend, a professional obligation that felt more like a social trial. The last thing you wanted was to run into Christopher in a setting so far removed from the safe confines of the school hallway.

He was there, of course. He was a major donor, a quiet, powerful presence in his world. He was in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, a stark contrast to the comfortable, worn-out sweats you had grown to associate with him. He was a little more distant than usual, his demeanor a controlled, composed façade that reminded you of the man you had met so many months ago. You tried to stay on the other side of the room, to make polite small talk with other parents, but you could feel his gaze on you.

He arrived late, and for a moment, you thought you were safe. But he didn’t leave early, as was his custom. He stayed, and as the night wound down and the crowd began to thin, you saw him. He was helping the event staff pack up, his sleeves once again pushed up, the expensive tuxedo jacket a little rumpled, his demeanor a little less guarded.

He caught your eye across the room, and a small, genuine smile touched his lips. He started walking toward you, and you felt a familiar jolt, a nervous flutter in your stomach.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, your voice a little breathy.

“I had to come,” he said, his voice a low, pleasing rumble. “The company is a major sponsor. Besides, I wanted to make sure the school got the most for their money. And it looks like they did.”

The banter was light, easy, and it felt so natural now. You found yourself talking to him about the chaos of the evening, the overly enthusiastic auctioneer, and the questionable choice of food. He was a little less guarded, a little more relaxed, and it felt like a small, precious victory.

His daughter, who had been dropped off at her grandmother’s for the night, had a habit of calling him at a certain time every night. The phone rang, and he excused himself, a small, genuine smile on his face. You saw him walk away, and you saw the way he softened, the way his shoulders relaxed, the moment his daughter’s voice came through the phone. You watched the entire exchange, and you felt a pang in your chest, a feeling of deep, quiet longing. He was a wonderful father, a kind man, and it felt odd, almost like family, to be a part of his world.

A few days later, a business function for his company was approaching, and you received an unexpected text from him. He was inviting you to be his guest. The invitation was casual, almost a throwaway line.

A lot of the company's initiatives are in education. It would mean a lot to have the support of a teacher. You should come. You'd be my guest.

You were hesitant. It felt like a massive step over a line that you had been trying so hard to pretend still existed. But he had made it about the school, about his company’s “education project,” and it was the perfect excuse. You told yourself you were doing it for the kids, for the school. You told yourself you were just a professional, showing your support. You agreed.

You saw him in his world, a world of power and influence and hushed, important conversations. He was a completely different man here. Confident. Respected. He commanded a room with a quiet authority that was both intimidating and deeply attractive. But you also saw the subtle loneliness in his eyes, the way he would lean against a wall, a polite smile on his face, but his eyes scanning the room, as if looking for an escape.

You found him in a quiet corner of the room, away from the loud hum of the crowd. He smiled when he saw you, a genuine, easy smile that was just for you. The conversation was quiet, easy, and warm. You felt a comfortable intimacy settle between you, a silent understanding that was more potent than any words. You were both in a world that felt alien, and you were a quiet, shared anchor in the middle of it.

That’s when it happened. She appeared, a vision of polished, cruel beauty in a designer dress. His ex-wife. She had a sharp smile on her face, but her eyes were cold, and her words were cutting. She started with a polite, but pointed, greeting to him, and then she turned her attention to you, her gaze sweeping over your more simple, less expensive dress with a cold, condescending sneer.

“Chan,” she said, her voice dripping with venom, “I see you’ve found another one of your… stress relievers. My therapist said that was a habit of yours. You pick up these little projects, these people who are so impressed by your money, and then you use them until you’re tired of them.” She laughed, a cold, brittle sound that made your skin crawl. “Don’t believe him. He doesn’t know how to love. He’s too soft for the real world.”

The words were like a physical blow, and you could feel Christopher tense beside you, his entire body going rigid. The rage was a palpable force around him, but he kept his composure, his face a mask of quiet, icy fury.

But you, you weren’t so composed. You stepped forward, a protective anger thrumming through your veins. You were so furious on his behalf, so angry at the cruelty of her words, that your professional instincts were gone.

“You’re wrong about him,” you said, your voice firm, your gaze proud. You met her sneer with a steady, unwavering gaze. “He’s a good man. He’s a wonderful father. He’s not what you say he is.”

She laughed, a sharp, cold sound that held no amusement. "You have no idea who he is," she said, her eyes a cold, glittering challenge.

He gently pulled you away, a furious look on his face, but he kept his voice low and calm. “Let’s go,” he said, his jaw clenched, his hand on your arm. He was clearly furious, but he was controlling it, a quiet, dangerous rage that you had never seen before.

The night ended with a polite goodbye, but the words stuck to you like thorns. You couldn't shake the insecurity. You knew who you were. You were a teacher. You were a kind, gentle person who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But her words, her sneer… they had created a small, subtle crack in your confidence.

You went home and you stared at your phone. You knew he would text you. You knew he would apologize. But you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You needed to find the professional lines you had so carelessly crossed. You avoided his texts the next day, a sudden, cold silence that you knew he would sense. He gave you space, sensing the sudden chill, but he was confused, and you knew it.

Your heart ached, a deep, painful thrumming in your chest. You believed that leaving, that putting a professional distance between the two of you, was the right choice. It was the only choice. You even drafted a resignation letter, but you didn’t send it. It was a physical manifestation of the choice you felt you had to make.

You sat there, staring at your phone, the words in your mind a constant, painful refrain:

He doesn’t know how to love.

You knew it was a lie, a cruel, vicious fabrication. But the words had done their job. They had planted a seed of doubt, and now, you were left alone with it, staring at your phone, hurting silently.

The words she had spoken, the venom in her tone, replayed in your mind like a cruel, broken record. He doesn’t know how to love. He’s too soft for the real world. He just uses people. You knew it was a lie. You knew it was a bitter, hateful fabrication born of her own insecurities. But the words had done their job. They had planted a tiny, insidious seed of fear in your heart, and it was growing, twisting, and turning into a thorny, painful truth.

You started noticing things you hadn't before. The other parents’ eyes lingered a little too long. A quiet whisper here, a quick, sidelong glance there. You knew, in your heart, that most of it was imagined, a manifestation of your own growing paranoia. But some of it felt real, a quiet, unspoken judgment that you couldn't shake. The guilt built in your chest, a heavy, suffocating weight. You were crossing invisible lines, treading on sacred ground, and you were afraid. Afraid for your job, afraid for him, and most of all, afraid for the quiet, fragile connection that had formed between you.

One morning, his daughter ran to you, her small arms wrapping around your legs in a tight, uninhibited hug. “I love you, Miss [y/n],” she whispered, her voice a soft, innocent hum. You hugged her back, your heart aching with a deep, profound sadness. You had to let them go. You had to protect them. You were no longer just a professional; you were a threat to their peace. You held her, and for a moment, you felt the sting of tears.

That afternoon, you finalized your resignation. You wrote it quietly, a simple, professional note with no explanation, no farewell. You didn’t want to be talked out of it. You knew, with a certainty that was both heartbreaking and resolute, that this was the only way. You packed your few belongings, the pictures on your desk, the books on your shelf, and you left. You moved to another city, a quiet, simple place where no one knew your name, where no one had any preconceived notions of who you were. You left no forwarding address, no trace, no way for him to find you.

The first day, your phone was full of messages. From him. He was confused. He was hurt. He was trying to figure out what had happened. “What did I do? Please, just tell me. I’m so confused.” The messages were short at first, then longer, then more desperate. You didn't answer. You couldn’t. Every word you typed felt like a lie, a cruel joke. He called, and you stared at the screen, your heart aching with every unanswered ring. His concern turned to hurt, a quiet, heartbroken fury that was palpable in his final texts.

At school, his daughter asked for her teacher every day. He would come to you with a gentle, patient smile, his eyes filled with a quiet, genuine love. You would try to explain, to give him a reason, but the words would get stuck in your throat. He would leave, his shoulders a little more slumped, his face a little more tired. The rumors swirled, of course. No one knew why you had left. They whispered about a scandal, about a problem with a parent, but he stayed silent, his quiet grief a testament to the pain you had caused him.

Weeks passed, and his messages grew rarer, but they were heavier, laced with a quiet, desperate plea. “Why? Just… why? Did I do something wrong? Please, just talk to me.” You read them all, a cruel, self-inflicted punishment, and you would lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, trying to justify your decision.

You found work elsewhere, a simple, quiet job that paid the bills. You were lonely, but you were firm in your decision. You convinced yourself that you were protecting him, protecting her, from the talk, from the judgment, from the world that was so ready to tear them apart. You were protecting them from yourself.

But every time you passed a school, every time you saw a little girl with a backpack, your heart would ache with a deep, profound sadness. You missed her laughter. You missed her bright, sunny personality. You missed the way she would tell you, with a serious, grown-up voice, that her dad was a good man.

Her birthday passed, and you cried, a quiet, heartbroken sound that no one heard. You missed her. You missed him. You missed the quiet, easy rhythm of your lives. You had a choice, and you had chosen loneliness.

Meanwhile, Christopher was fighting his own battle. The silence had been a blow, a cruel and unexpected betrayal. But the hurt slowly, quietly turned into anger, and the anger turned into a quiet, determined fury. He started searching. It was not a casual search, but a thorough, methodical one. He used his contacts, his resources, his power. He hired a private investigator, a former colleague from his old firm, a man who owed him a favor. He was fueled by anger, by hurt, and by a deep, unwavering determination.

Months passed. Still no lead. No one knew where you had gone. You had left no trace. The private investigator was ready to give up, but Christopher wouldn't let him. He was a man who didn't give up easily, and he wasn't about to start now.

Then, a chance hint. A colleague from your old school, a woman who had been a quiet supporter of yours, mentioned something in passing. She had been talking to a friend, a teacher in a different city, who had mentioned a new hire, a quiet, kind woman who had just moved to the area. The name, of course, was yours.

He finally had a location. His heart pounded, a heavy, thunderous drum against his ribs. He had spent four months hurting, and now he was ready to confront everything. The words he had memorized, the speeches he had prepared… they all came rushing back to him. He was furious, but he was also relieved. He had found you.

He booked a flight without hesitation. He was a man on a mission, a man who had been hurt and was now ready to confront the woman who had caused him so much pain. He was ready to find out the truth, to ask the questions that had been haunting him for months, to finally get the answers he deserved.

The morning he arrived was cold and gray, a perfect reflection of the turmoil in his heart. The sky hung low and heavy over the new city you now called home, threatening a downpour that never quite came. You were in the school lobby, the unfamiliar smell of new books and freshly waxed floors a stark contrast to the comforting scent of your old classroom, making a quick photocopy of a lesson plan before your class started. The low hum of the machine was the only sound you were aware of. Your life had become an exercise in avoiding noise, in moving through the world as quietly and unobtrusively as possible.

And then, you saw him.

He was a world away from the tired, vulnerable man you had known, the man who had looked at you with quiet gratitude in the school hallway, the man who had struggled with boxes of art supplies and worried about his daughter’s day. He was in a perfectly tailored suit, a dark charcoal gray that made his broad shoulders seem even wider. His hair was neatly combed, every strand in place, and his face was a mask of quiet, controlled power. He looked as though he had just stepped out of a high-stakes meeting, not a long flight fueled by desperation.

He looked at you, and the world around you seemed to fall away. The students chattering, the teachers hurrying by with coffee cups, the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of the photocopy machine—it all faded into a silent, blurry hum. He was here. He had found you. The realization was a physical blow, a sharp, cold jolt that left you breathless.

His presence was calm, almost unnervingly so, but his eyes were a storm. They burned with a mixture of anger and hurt, a quiet, furious fire that you had never seen before. The cool composure of his face was a thin veneer over a raw, barely contained rage. He walked towards you, every step deliberate and measured, and you felt a cold dread settle in your stomach. It was the same icy fear that had propelled you to leave, now standing right in front of you.

He didn't stop until he was only a few feet away, the air between you crackling with unspoken tension. The silence was unbearable. He just looked at you, his jaw clenched, his gaze a silent question that screamed of betrayal. You knew, in that moment, that there was no running, no hiding, no polite escape.

You walked outside, your legs feeling weak and heavy, and he followed. The cool, damp air was a relief against your flushed cheeks. The parking lot was mostly empty, a silent, concrete canvas for the confrontation you had so desperately tried to avoid. The tension between you was so thick, you felt you could have reached out and cut it with a knife. He stopped, and you braced yourself for the storm. You had expected him to yell, to scream, to ask you how you could have done this. But his first words were a quiet, low whisper, more devastating than any shout.

“How could you leave her? Not just me—her.”

The words were a blow, a direct hit to the heart of your guilt. You had run to protect him, to protect them, but in doing so, you had broken her heart. His voice, usually so calm and low, was ragged with emotion. He wasn't yelling, he was heartbroken. The accusation hung in the air, a heavy, suffocating weight. You stammered, the guilt rising in a wave that threatened to drown you. You tried to explain, to give him a reason, but the words were a clumsy, inadequate mess, a futile attempt to explain a decision born of fear and paranoia.

“I was… I was scared,” you said, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes fixed on the ground. “The things she said… the way people looked at me. I was afraid people would judge you. I was afraid they would hurt your daughter. I just… I couldn’t stand it. The whispers, the looks. I thought I was protecting you both from the gossip.”

He stared at you, his eyes still burning, but a flicker of a different emotion, a deep, weary sadness, flashed through them. "You think I care what they think?” he said, his voice rising a little, the fury finally breaking through. “You think I care about their whispers, their rumors, their judgment?” He shook his head, a frustrated, angry movement that seemed to carry the weight of the last four months. "I don’t care. Not about any of it. The only thing I care about is my family.”

His voice broke, a small, painful sound that made your own heart crack. He was a man who was used to being in control, and now he was losing it. "She cried for you,” he said, the words a quiet, heartbroken sob. “Every night. She asked for her teacher. She asked for you. She couldn’t understand why you were gone. She just… she misses you.” The last words were a whisper, a raw confession of his own pain.

Your own tears finally fell, a hot, painful stream down your cheeks. You had thought you were doing the right thing. You had thought you were being a hero, a quiet protector, but you had only caused them pain. You had thought you were doing the right thing, but you had only made everything worse. You had been a fool, and now the consequences of your folly were standing right in front of you, a living, breathing testament to your mistake.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, the words a raw, broken plea that he would understand, that he would forgive you. "I thought I was helping. I thought I was protecting you."

He stepped closer, a step that closed the distance between you and made your breath catch in your throat. "You broke our hearts trying to protect us,” he said, his voice a quiet, pained whisper, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear. "You took away the only light we had, and you left us in the dark." The words were a quiet accusation, a simple, painful truth that you couldn't deny.

You tried to step back, to create a professional, safe distance between you, to put your walls back up, but he didn't let you. His hands, gentle but firm, cupped your face, holding you in place. You had been running for four months, and now, finally, you were still.

His tone softened, a quiet, desperate plea in his voice. "I don’t care about anything but my family,” he said again, his voice a low, soothing rumble. “And you are a part of it. I want you to be a part of it."

You froze at the word “family,” the sound a beautiful, terrifying thing that echoed in your heart. You had never belonged anywhere. You had been a solitary figure for so long. And now, this man, this wonderful, broken man, was offering you a place. The word, on his lips, felt like a sacred promise, a lifeline you never knew you needed.

"I wanted you to call me Chan,” he continued, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I wanted you in our lives. I wanted you to stay.”

Your hand trembled as you raised it, hesitantly cupping his face. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment, and you felt a new kind of peace settle in your heart. You were here. You had run, but he had found you. And in his touch, you found all the things you had been searching for: solace, comfort, and, most of all, home.

The first kiss was raw, heavy, and desperate. It was a kiss that had been four months overdue, a kiss that held all the pain, the loneliness, and the fear of a long separation. It was a kiss that held all the hope and the promise of a future, a silent vow that the pain was over, that the running was done. It was the taste of forgiveness, the touch of a future you had never dared to dream of.

He pulled back just a little, his forehead resting against yours, his voice a low, shaky whisper. "No more running,” he murmured against your lips.

You nodded, sobbing, your tears a mix of pain and relief. “I’m sorry,” you said, the words a broken plea that he would forgive you, a promise that you would never leave again.

He held you close, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, protective embrace. All the walls you had so carefully built, all the professional distance you had worked so hard to maintain, crumbled.

In the distance, you saw a car pull up, a small, bright smile peeking out from the backseat. His daughter. She had spotted you. She had spotted her teacher, and she was smiling wide, her joy a quiet, beautiful light in the gray, broken world you had created. You were home.

The flight back to the city was filled with a quiet, fragile tension that was a world away from the furious, heartbroken energy of his departure months ago. You sat beside him, your hand in his, and the silence was no longer suffocating, but comforting. You were both so exhausted, so emotionally drained, that the simple act of being together, of not having to pretend or run, was enough. The little girl, his daughter, sat in the row behind you, a quiet, happy hum of a child who was finally reunited with the two people she loved most. She would reach forward and gently tug on your sleeve, a small, reassuring gesture that you were real, that you were here, that you hadn’t vanished again.

Rebuilding trust was a slow, delicate process, like mending a shattered piece of pottery. There were no grand gestures, no sudden, dramatic declarations. It was in the small things. The way you would spend more time with them, the quiet evenings spent at their home, the way his daughter would cling to you happily, a constant, joyful presence that reminded you of the reason you had come back.

He, Chan, was letting his guard down, more than you had ever seen. The mask of quiet, controlled power had been shed, revealing a man who was still hurting, still raw, but also so incredibly kind and gentle. You would stay up late, long after his daughter was asleep, and talk. You would sit on the sofa, a warm blanket draped over your knees, and he would finally admit it all. The divorce had been brutal, a messy, ugly battle that had left scars you were only now beginning to see. He had been so lost, so alone, so broken. You listened, your heart aching with a profound, deep love for this broken, beautiful man, and you realized you had been wrong. So wrong. He wasn't soft. He was the strongest man you had ever met.

And in turn, you admitted your own insecurities, your fears of ruining his image, of bringing drama into their quiet, peaceful lives. You told him everything, every whispered rumor, every frightened glance, every word his ex-wife had so cruelly spoken. He listened, his eyes a soft, comforting gaze, and he simply shook his head. “You’re the one thing that makes sense,” he said, his voice a low, reassuring rumble. “Everything else is a blur. But you… you are my anchor. The one thing I’m sure of.”

One night, the quiet dinner was punctuated by gentle teasing. You were making fun of his terrible cooking skills, and he was laughing, a warm, genuine sound that you hadn’t heard in months. The teasing turned into deep confessions, the quiet honesty of people who had been apart for so long and now had to catch up on all the things they hadn't said. You talked about your past, your fears, your hopes for the future, and for a moment, the world felt still.

He reached across the table and took your hand, his touch a warm, gentle comfort. The first slow kiss without panic, without the desperation of a long-overdue reunion. It was just warmth, a quiet, gentle intimacy that was a thousand times more powerful than any passion. It was a promise, a soft, unspoken vow that this was real, that this was forever.

The next day, his daughter accidentally called you “Mommy.” There was a heart-stopping silence, a moment of utter stillness where you both froze, but then you both burst out laughing. It was an honest, uninhibited sound that filled the room with a deep, happy joy. The bond you had was unshakable now, a quiet, beautiful thing that was growing stronger with every passing day.

You still kept things low-profile. No one at school knew. The other parents were still just quiet, distant faces in the hallway, but it no longer mattered. You were closer than ever, a quiet, happy family that was slowly, carefully, rebuilding itself. He started calling you “love” when no one was around, a simple, beautiful word that made your heart skip a beat every time. You, in turn, slowly switched from “Christopher” to “Chris,” and sometimes, when you were emotional, you would whisper “Chan” against his lips, the name a sacred secret between you.

The first sleepover was a family movie night. You were all curled up on the sofa, a big bowl of popcorn between you, and the world felt cozy and perfect. He would tease you, and you would fluster, a new, playful dynamic that made your heart sing. The little girl would giggle, her joy a quiet, happy soundtrack to your lives.

One day, a panic moment resurfaced for him. A client had been particularly difficult, and he had been forced to relive some of the old, painful memories of his divorce. He was sitting in a chair, his face in his hands, and you simply sat beside him, your hand on his shoulder. You didn't say a word, you simply let him be, your presence a quiet, unwavering anchor. He took your hand, and in that moment, he realized how much he depended on your calm, on your quiet strength, on the simple fact that you were there.

And you, in turn, realized something too. You had been trying to protect them, to keep them safe from a world you thought was cruel and judgmental, but you had been wrong. You hadn't been protecting them. You had been protecting yourself. You had been running from a feeling that you had fallen in love with them long before you had ever admitted it.

You started making small plans for the future. A weekend trip to the beach. A quiet vacation to the mountains. Little things, but they were promises, a quiet, beautiful vow that this was real, that this was forever. The chapter ended with him whispering the words you had been longing to hear, the words that would finally, truly, bring you home. “Stay. Always.”

The journey back was not just a physical return but a homecoming for your soul. The city, once a place of pain and hurried escape, now felt like a warm, welcoming embrace. The rebuilding of your lives was not an act of construction, but a delicate, painstaking art. It wasn't about grand gestures or dramatic declarations. It was in the small, quiet routines you worked out together, a gentle rhythm that settled over your days. The morning school run became a shared responsibility, a chaotic but joyful start to the day. Dinners were a collaborative effort, a dance of gentle teasing and comfortable silence. Weekends were an open canvas, filled with quiet trips to the park, lazy movie afternoons, and the simple joy of being together.

You were no longer the quiet, anonymous teacher. You were proudly beside him at every parent event, a quiet, reassuring presence at his side. The other parents, the ones who had once seemed so judgmental, now simply saw the warmth between you, the way his hand would find yours, the way he would look at you with a quiet, genuine love. He didn't hide it anymore. The whispers and rumors had long since faded, replaced by a quiet, unspoken respect for the family he was so clearly building.

The panic attacks, which had once been a constant, terrifying companion, grew fewer. Your presence was a quiet, unwavering anchor that healed the deep, old wounds. He would sit beside you, his hands in yours, and you would simply breathe, a slow, calming rhythm that quieted his heart. His daughter, meanwhile, was thriving. She was happier than you had ever seen her, her smile brighter, her laugh louder, her love a constant, beautiful thing that wrapped around you both.

Playdates with her friends became family outings, a new, joyful tradition that filled your lives with a happy noise. You kept your romantic side private, a sacred secret between you, but it was unmissable in the stolen glances, the gentle touches, the quiet, loving looks you would share when you thought no one was watching.

He started to teach you a family recipe, a secret passed down from his mother, and the kitchen would be filled with laughter. He would scold you playfully for adding too much salt, and you would retaliate with a flour-covered swipe on his cheek. You began spending holidays together, a new tradition that replaced the lonely, quiet holidays you had both known. You started decorating their home with small touches, a vase of fresh flowers here, a new painting there, each a quiet, loving sign of your presence.

The gifts you exchanged were personal, meaningful, a quiet testament to the depth of your bond. He gifted you a pen with your name engraved, a simple but profound gesture that said, 'I want you to stay.' You, in turn, gifted him a framed drawing his daughter had made of the three of you as a family, a crayon masterpiece that showed a simple, beautiful truth you were all just beginning to live.

The late-night talks deepened, the conversations becoming more raw, more honest, more real. The trauma of the past, his brutal divorce, your lonely past, all of it surfaced, but you faced it together, your hands in his, a united front against the world. He admitted, in a quiet, pained whisper, “Sometimes I still panic. Sometimes I feel like it’s all going to fall apart, and I’m going to be alone again. But you… you make it bearable.” You whispered back, your voice thick with emotion, “I’m not going anywhere,” a simple, profound promise that you would never break.

Your bond now felt unshakable, a quiet, beautiful thing that was strong enough to withstand any storm. More nicknames, Chris, Chan, started slipping naturally, a quiet, secret language between you that held all the love, all the trust, all the hope of a future you were building together.

His daughter would often run to you, her arms wrapped around your legs, and she would whisper, “Teacher is my favorite person,” a sweet, innocent confession that made your heart swell. He would agree softly, a gentle, loving smile on his face, “Mine too.”

It ended with you tucked on the sofa, a quiet, cozy afternoon, the afternoon sun streaming through the window, your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you. You were home, not in a house, but in a feeling. You were building a family, one slow, quiet, beautiful moment at a time.

-

Three years had a way of smoothing the sharp edges of the past, of blurring the outlines of old hurts until they were nothing but a faint, hazy memory. The days of whispered rumors and panicked escapes felt like another lifetime entirely, a story belonging to two different people who had yet to find their way home. Now, their lives were a tapestry woven with the steady threads of routine, comfort, and an unwavering love.

His daughter, once a small, quiet hum of a child, was now a bright, confident ten-year-old. Her laughter was no longer a shy, happy sound but a loud, uninhibited symphony that filled the house. She was a reflection of the love and stability that now defined her world, thriving in the warmth of a complete family.

The two of you were a settled, quiet unit. You were no longer just a beloved teacher or a welcomed guest; you were an integral, non-negotiable part of the family. You were at every parent-teacher conference, every school play, every soccer game. There was no more hiding, no more quiet professionalism. The warmth between you was a quiet, unmissable thing that settled in the space around you like a comfortable blanket. You had learned to balance the demands of your own work with the easy rhythm of your new life, and together, you simply thrived.

The evening began with the chaotic, joyful ritual of dropping her off at a sleepover. She was bouncing in the back seat, her backpack stuffed with essentials for a night away. Chan was in the driver's seat, his hand resting on your knee, a silent, comforting presence.

"Don't stay up too late, monkey," he said, his voice a low, teasing rumble.

"Dad! We're going to watch movies and eat pizza all night! Staying up late is the point!" she protested, her voice a theatrical whine that made you both chuckle.

"Don't worry," you said, turning to look at her, a gentle smile on your face. "I'll make sure he doesn't stay up and worry about you. We'll be fine."

She hugged you both in a quick, enthusiastic whirlwind before bounding up the driveway to her friend's front door. As she disappeared inside, you both sat in the quiet of the car, a comfortable, shared silence settling between you.

The drive back was filled with the kind of easy, gentle teasing that had become the hallmark of your relationship. You were talking about a new movie, and you accidentally referred to him as "Mr. Bahng," the old, formal nickname slipping from your lips without warning. The car filled with a quiet, shocked silence, and you felt a blush rise up your neck.

He pulled over, turning to face you, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. "Stop calling me Mr. Bahng, love," he said, the word "love" a soft, intimate secret between you.

You looked down at your hands, your heart thumping a little faster. "It just… slipped out."

"Did it?" he teased, his grin widening. "I liked it when you called me Chris. Or… you know.”

You looked at him, a playful scold in your eyes. "I'm still getting used to it."

"No," he said, his voice dropping an octave, his hand reaching out and gently tracing the line of your jaw. "Say my name. Say it for me."

"Chris," you whispered, your voice a little shaky.

"No," he said again, his voice now a low, commanding whisper. "Say my name. The one you want to say."

You swallowed, your heart beating a desperate rhythm against your ribs. "Chan."

"Mine," he murmured, his face coming closer, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. He kissed you, a slow, deep kiss that was full of the kind of warmth and intimacy that only three years could build.

At home, the quiet dinner turned into a playful, flirtatious banter. He was shamelessly flirty, his eyes never leaving yours, a constant, loving presence that made your heart swell. "I like your hair like that," he said, his voice a low, sensual hum. "It makes your eyes stand out."

You blushed, a soft, warm feeling spreading through your cheeks. "Stop," you said, your voice a quiet protest.

He grinned, leaning closer, his eyes a warm, beautiful brown. "What? Can't a lady be complimented by her man?"

"You can," you said, a soft, fond look in your eyes. "But it's getting ridiculous."

He laughed, a warm, genuine sound that you loved. "You're the most beautiful person I know. It's a fact."

Later, during movie night, you were both curled up on the couch, the lights low, the only sound the quiet hum of the television. He rested his head in your lap, his eyes closed, his breathing a slow, even rhythm. Your fingers instinctively threaded through his hair, a soft, loving gesture, and he hummed contentedly, a quiet, happy sound that was a world away from the silent, broken man you had once known.

He leaned up, his eyes meeting yours, and he kissed your jaw, then your neck, his lips a playful, tender presence against your skin. A warm hug turned into slow, lingering kisses, his lips tracing the line of your shoulders, the curve of your collarbone, each a quiet, loving promise that you were here, and that you were staying.

You talked about the future, about the small, quiet plans that had once seemed so far away. The whispers of a marriage, a future together, were no longer just a dream, but a beautiful, tangible reality. He kissed you again, a slow, deep kiss that was full of all the love, all the hope, all the promise that you had so desperately searched for.

You were home, not in a house, but in a feeling. You were building a family, one slow, quiet, beautiful moment at a time. The home was no longer a place, but each other.

Three years had a way of turning the extraordinary into the ordinary, of transforming a desperate, cinematic reunion into the quiet, beautiful rhythm of everyday life. The days of whispered rumors and panicked escapes felt like another lifetime entirely, a story belonging to two different people who had yet to find their way home. Now, their lives were a tapestry woven with the steady threads of routine, comfort, and an unwavering love.

The mornings were a symphony of organized chaos. The frantic scramble for a lost shoe, the quiet debate over which fruit to pack, the low hum of the coffee maker—each was a brushstroke in the masterpiece of their domestic bliss. You stood by the kitchen counter, meticulously packing a lunchbox, a quiet smile on your face. Chan would lean against the doorframe, a mug of coffee in his hand, a look of profound contentment in his eyes as he watched you.

"You're a natural at this, you know," he'd say, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "The queen of packed lunches."

You'd roll your eyes playfully, a soft blush rising on your cheeks. "Someone has to make sure she doesn't survive on just sugary snacks."

"And that someone is my favorite person in the world," he'd murmur, crossing the room to wrap his arms around you in a warm hug, his chin resting on your shoulder. You would simply lean into his embrace, a quiet, happy sigh escaping your lips. These quiet mornings, filled with the simple tasks of parenting, were your favorite moments. They were a testament to the life you had built, a silent, powerful promise that you were here, and you were staying.

Their family weekends were a collection of small joys. A trip to the farmer's market, her hand in yours and his, the three of you a united front against the world. A spontaneous picnic in the park, the laughter of a little girl as she chased a butterfly, the quiet, loving glances you would share. He spoiled them both, guiltlessly, showering you and his daughter with small, thoughtful gifts. A new book you had been eyeing, a beautiful piece of jewelry, a rare record he knew you would love. You'd scold him, of course, a quiet, playful protest that he was spoiling you too much, but the smile on your face would betray your true feelings.

His music production, a long-dormant passion, had started again, and you had become his calm anchor. He would sit in his home studio for hours, a quiet, focused energy in the room, and you would simply sit beside him, your hand in his, a quiet, loving presence. The music he created now was different. It was no longer filled with the frantic, restless energy of a man who was searching for something. It was filled with a quiet, peaceful love, a deep, beautiful sound that was a reflection of the life you had built.

You attended parent events as a team now, a united front that was respected and admired by the other parents. The whispers had long since faded, replaced by a quiet, unspoken admiration for the way he had found his way home, for the way you had healed a broken family. You were no longer the quiet, anonymous teacher, but his partner, his safe space. The panic attacks, which had once been a constant, terrifying companion, were almost gone, a faint, distant memory. He would look at you, his eyes filled with a deep, profound love, and he would simply say, "You're my safe place. You always have been."

He loved hearing you laugh. It was his favorite sound in the world, a bright, uninhibited symphony that filled the house with joy. He would do little things just to hear it, a terrible pun, a silly dance, a perfectly timed piece of gentle teasing. You, in turn, loved seeing him relaxed, the quiet, controlled power of the office replaced by the soft, comfortable presence of the man you loved. It didn't matter if he was in a perfectly tailored suit or a worn-out hoodie. He was always yours.

His daughter, now a budding artist, would draw family pictures, crayon masterpieces that captured the quiet love that filled your home. A stick figure of you with a heart-shaped backpack, a stick figure of her dad with a perfectly coiffed head of hair, and a stick figure of you, all holding hands, your love a bright, colorful thing that filled the page. You would display them proudly on the refrigerator, a constant, beautiful reminder of the home you had built.

Your own self-doubt had long since faded, replaced by a quiet, unwavering confidence. This was home. You belonged here. You were loved. You were no longer a lonely, broken girl, but a woman who was loved, cherished, and treasured.

Chan's protective side still showed, but it was softer now, a gentle, quiet presence that was no longer a sign of his brokenness, but of his love. He would hold your hand in a crowd, a quiet, reassuring gesture that said, 'I'm here. I'll always be here.'

You celebrated every milestone, every birthday, every achievement, with a quiet, happy joy. The three of you would sit together, a united front against the world, and every look, every touch, every shared smile, said a quiet, beautiful truth: "I choose you."

The old, formal nickname "Chris" was no longer a symbol of your professional distance, but a quiet, intimate name that you would use when you were alone, a gentle reminder of the man you had first fallen in love with. But "Chan," that was a sacred name, a whisper you would use when you were emotional, when you were feeling a deep, profound love, a name that was entirely yours.

He would playfully scold you, a quiet, loving protest that you still weren't using the name he had given you. “Still not calling me Chan enough,” he’d say, a soft, teasing tone in his voice.

You would tease back, a playful gleam in your eyes. "You have to earn it."

Their daughter would join the teasing, a mischievous grin on her face. "Dad's whipped," she would declare, a truth that was both hilarious and completely, beautifully true.

He would laugh, a warm, genuine sound that you loved more than anything in the world. "I am," he would agree shamelessly, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent, loving vow.

It ended with a quiet family hug, the three of you wrapped up in a warm, loving embrace, the laughter of a little girl echoing through the house, a perfect, beautiful symphony that was a testament to the home you had built.

The morning of the school’s annual Parent Appreciation Day dawned with a soft, gentle light, a perfect reflection of the quiet contentment that filled your lives. It was another birthday morning, a poignant echo of the day you had first met. But this time, everything was different. There was no desperate, hurried flight, no quiet, professional distance. There was only the happy, chaotic noise of a family waking up together, the bright, joyful sound of a little girl’s voice, the quiet, loving presence of a man who was now your home.

Gifts and chocolates were exchanged, not as a desperate, quiet plea for connection, but as a joyful, loving celebration of the people you were now. The little girl, now ten, a head of wild, beautiful hair and a smile that lit up the room, was bouncing with excitement, a pure, uninhibited joy that was a testament to the love that filled her world.

You walked into the classroom hand-in-hand, laughing, the sound a beautiful, uninhibited symphony that filled the quiet space. The parents, the ones who had once seemed so distant and judgmental, now greeted you warmly, their whispers replaced by smiles, their distant glances replaced by a quiet, unspoken respect for the family you had built. His daughter beamed, her face a bright, beautiful canvas of pure pride as she showed you off to her friends, her "family."

You knelt to hug her, your heart so full of love that it felt as though it might burst. You had been so afraid of this, of a world that would judge, of a love that would be impossible. And yet, here you were, a quiet, happy family, a beautiful, unexpected reality that you had never dared to dream of.

Chan watched the scene, a soft, loving awe softening his eyes. He had found his way home, not just to a person, but to a life he had never thought possible. After class, you took a quiet walk, your hands in his, the silence between you a warm, comforting presence. He stopped you under a tree, a gentle, loving smile on his face.

"Never running again?" he asked, his voice a quiet, gentle whisper.

You looked at him, your eyes filled with a deep, profound love, and you shook your head. "Never again."

You kissed, a soft, sure, whole kiss that was a quiet, loving promise that you would never be apart again. It was a kiss that held all the love, all the hope, all the future that you had so desperately longed for. A teacher passed by, her eyes twinkling with a quiet, knowing look. "Mr. Bahng?" she teased playfully, the old, formal nickname now a funny, distant memory.

"It's Chan," you said, your voice a playful, loving whisper, a bright, happy grin on your face.

Their daughter, who had been running ahead, came bounding back, her arms wrapped around your legs, her laughter a bright, joyful sound. He held you both close, a perfect, loving embrace that was a silent, powerful testament to the home you had built. There were no more walls, no more professional distance, no more quiet, desperate fear. There was only love, a quiet, unwavering force that was all you would ever need.

You thought about the journey, about the quiet, professional nods that had started it all. The quiet, unspoken glances that had followed. The desperate, terrifying escape that had almost ended it all. The tearful, honest reunion that had brought you back together. The quiet, beautiful rhythm of domestic bliss that had followed. And now, here you were, a complete, whole, and beautiful family.

He whispered the words you had been waiting to hear your whole life, the words that would finally, truly, bring you home. “All that’s left of us is everything.”

You whispered back, your voice thick with emotion, the words a quiet, loving promise that you would never break. “Everything.”

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Since that night in the green room, Hyunjin seemed to have slightly reeled in his behavior. Emphasis on slightly. He remained the flirt he was but less… opportunistic in his advances physically, less pressing you into walls & corners, opting to redirect the energy to his flirty advances. Jeongin noticed his hyung had become more affectionate with him, doting on him like a child or making suggestive remarks. But, no one spoke of that night. 

Jeongin had purposely left that door unlocked. While the target in mind had been Hyunjin, he was willing to expose any poor soul's eyes to the lewd state he had you in that night. Jeongin had lucked out on seeing the look of shock, and terror, mixed with pleasure that painted his face. Finally, he had shown Hyunjin that his attempts would remain futile as long as Jeongin had you wrapped around his finger… Or in this case his cock. 

Tonight was a big night for the band, Minho had made some calls and was able to arrange for a talent scout to watch them play. He happened to be an old friend of Minho’s but the timing never worked out until now. It was a sold-out show in the city, it had left them antsy and anxious for days leading up to the show. Pressure to be perfect, to show this label what they were and could be. You had never seen Jeongin as stressed as he was, it was to the point that sex had been put on pause until after the show. It didn’t offend you but it was hurting to see Jeongin this way without being able just to take the weight off his shoulder for a moment. In consequence, it leaves you starved. You still cuddled every night and his kisses were endless but you missed him inside you. Needed him in you like you needed air to breathe. 

You arrive at the venue, making your way toward the hall that leads backstage, you show your credentials to security before making your way to the green room. The door was closed, Minho leaning against the frame with his head pressed to the wall.

“Everything alright?” You ask, his head finally peaks up to look at you.

“What do you think?” He asks sheepishly, half laughing and shaking his head.

“That bad?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this quiet, not even when they’re sleeping” You sigh knowing exactly what he meant.

“Is it alright to go in?”

“Yeah, go for it. The talent scout is here so I’m gonna fetch him” Minho gently grabs your shoulder in passing “Do. Not… Tell them that I’m bringing the scout in. They’ll all just jump up to their feet and mob him like puppies to kibble.”

“Yes, sir” You laugh knowing he’s probably right.

You knock on the door before walking in. Chan is twirling a drumstick in his hand anxiously, Jisung is hunched over in a ball on the floor fidgeting with the scratch in the wood coffee table, and Jeongin is sat back on the couch with a shaky knee biting back his lip. He only ever bites his lip like this when he’s too lost in thought. Matter of fact, they’re all too consumed with their thoughts to have even noticed you’ve walked in. You sit next to Jeongin causing him to snap out of his dazed state. 

“What if I suck?” he asks without looking at you

“You won’t” He’s fixated on something across from him.

“But what if i do?”

“You won’t”

“But-”

“No head. Ever.”

“... that’s a bit cruel don’t you think?”

“Jeongin, look at me” He finally tears his eyes to look at you. His posture softens a bit. You lean forward to kiss his cheek, bringing your lips to his ears.

“You will do amazing like you have always, and I will be there watching, screaming, and cheering you on like I’m the only person in that room tonight.”

His face turns to lean into the hand that caresses his face.

“And when it’s all over, you can have me anyway, anywhere, and however you want, okay?”

There’s a flush across the top of his cheeks with that last comment.

“You know I love you right?” He whispers just low enough for you to hear

“I know” 

He looks gorgeous, the black smokey eyeshadow makes his eyes even more striking against the ginger color of his hair. A decision that was made on impulse this past week but has somehow made him look even hotter. You survey the room once more noticing someone was missing.

“Where’s Hyunjin?” You ask which now has Jisung looking up from the coffee table and has Chan dropping his drumstick.

“He’s in the bathroom probably trying to yank one out, he ran through his speed dial fucks, none could be at his beck and call this week so he’s been particularly moody” Chan says so casually it's almost typical. There’s a slam against the wall coming from the bathroom and a loud shout. “See.”

The door to the bathroom is suddenly yanked open and a very frustrated-looking Hyunjin is standing in the doorway. His chest heaving as he puffs out a breath shooting Chan a glare. He’s wearing a black jacket with a velvet finish, a white tank top that scoops a little too low, and black jeans with docs to finish the look. He doesn’t spare you a glance before walking over to the vanity to put his rings on. You look at Jisung who has also zoned out. You slip off the couch to kneel next to him, he looks at you now at eye level with him.

“ I don’t think I need to tell you that they all wouldn’t be here tonight without you Ji, right?” He silently nods. “Good then lets put on a show none of them will forget.”

You kiss the crown of his head before standing up and turning to Chan.

“And you… just be hot and play those drums”

“The ever-encouraging words of our lovely, Y/N, ladies and gentlemen,” Chan applauds you as you curtsey. Hyunjin is sitting on the vanity looking at you, there’s something about his eyes that sends a shiver straight down to where you’ve been aching all week. It’s the same look he had in his eyes that night he grabbed your hand to feel up his tattoos. 

“You on the other hand,” You point a wavering finger to Hyunjin “You’ll find something to stick your dick in tonight, so for the love of god, try to be less pissy until it’s all over.” 

“I’ll hold out hope, maybe if I’m lucky enough, it'll be you,” He rolls his eyes and lets the comment slip past his lips before he’s able to catch it. It leaves your face flushed and the rest of them shooting a look of bewilderment at him.

The tension is cut by Minho walking back into the room, indicating its almost time for them to go on. On cue, you blow Jeongin a kiss to which he obnoxiously catches and presses to his lips. Hyunjin’s comment rolls around in your head until you get to the bar to grab a drink. You know him enough to know when he’s joking but this didn’t sound like it. The look of shock on everyone's face was just confirmation. You see a seat and ask the guy sitting left of it if it’s taken, he sheepishly says it's all yours. You shed the coat you've been wearing, lined and trimmed in faux fur with intricate embroidery, revealing your long-sleeved mini-black dress. You took note of the way his eyes drank everything in, you smiled looking at him again. 

“Are you a big fan of the band?” You ask trying to make small talk, intrigued by his presence. He wasn’t dressed like anyone else here, he wore a grey hoodie and jeans, and a mop of soft brown hair sat on his head matching the softness of his eyes. 

“Can’t say that I am just yet. This is my first show, and you?”

“You’re in for a real treat. I’m a huge fan you could say. Been to almost every show.” His eyes widen a bit at this. “Oh really? Just here for the music?” He asks with raised brows. 

Without another word, you wink as the lights dim and the crowd screams.

This had to be one of their best shows, the energy from the crowd only amplifying their stage presence. You had never seen them performing as passionately as they had tonight. They all moved and played so perfectly in sync, on top of nailing every drum solo, guitar solo, and long vocal note. The lights had come on and your drink was empty once again. The guy who had been next to you had stood up lingering inside taking a phone call. Minho was the first to come out, he walked to security first to let them know to usher the remainder people out as quickly as possible. 

“They’ll be out soon, the talent scout wants to see them to discuss a deal. The venue said we could have it in the attached restaurant so can you please take these orders and grab us a booth?” Minho asks while frantically looking around.

“Boo if this is my reward for being Jeongins girlfriend, I’m expecting a cut of this deal too” You pout at Minho who is waving you off. 

You give the waiter the order for the 7 of you before sitting in the booth. It's a rounded booth with an extra chair at the open part of the table. You had given the coat to the host at the entrance but your legs felt cold with the mini dress riding up your thighs in this booth. It isn’t long before you see Chan and Jisung, dressed more casually and strutting to the table. You step out the booth to hug them both and congratulate them on the show. Minho is making his way down soon with Jeongin and Hyunjin in toe. Jeongin is grabbing you by the face to give you a kiss leaving you giggling at his enthusiasm. He tries to kiss all over your face before Jisungs groans and interrupts. You end up sandwiched between Jeongin and Hyunjin, which unfortunately does nothing for the ache between your thighs, the smell of their cologne is all you can breathe in, and the roughness of their jeans brushing against your exposed legs. They were both notorious for manspreading, so any thought or notion you had about legroom was out the window. 

Hyunjin seems to either not notice or care about the way your legs try to scoot further from his, you opt to cross your legs over each other, causing your boyfriend to notice and slide a hand onto the thigh that was buried under the other leg, his hand smushed between your thighs and so close to where your panties are dripping for him. Jeongin carries on with his convo with Chan who sits next to him. You take a shallow breath trying to focus on anything else, this piques Hyunjin’s interest.

“What’s got you so worked up?” He asks lowly into your ear while throwing an arm around the back of the booth seating that cages you in. 

“I could ask you the same” You scoff when he reaches to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’ll share if you do? Here I’ll make it easy for you,” He riches for his drink tossing back the last of his drink, you watch a droplet slip down the side of his mouth just missing his lips. As he sets the drink down he’s leaning incredibly and his lips are practically pressed against the shell of your ear. “I would love nothing more than to rip that dress off your body, lay you out on this table, and fuck you while your boyfriend watches. And I know you haven't been fucked for days with how tense our Innie has been.”

You cough trying to suppress the moan you let slip, luckily it only has Jeongin turning to check on you with concern. You tell him you choked on air before he gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze and a kiss to your temple. He promised to make it up to you tonight for the dry spell he left you in this week. Hyunjin has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, his gaze fixed on the guy now walking to your table and waving to Minho. It’s the same guy from the bar.

“Ah finally. Everyone this is Seungmin, he works for Capitol Records.” Seungmin waves coyly until his eyes meet yours. Min goes around introducing you all.

 “This is Jisung, our singer, Chan, our drummer, Jeongin, our lead guitarist, and Hyunjin, our bass player. This is Y/N, our unofficial assistant and resident groupie.” Minho laughs at that comment but earns him a shin kick from Hyunjin. You roll your eyes extending a handshake.

“I’m Jeongin’s girlfriend. I think it's fair to say that Assistants and Groupies have better benefits than I do but it’s nice to meet you. Formally, that is.” You smile coquettishly. You always knew better to play into the flirt act when it would benefit them.

“It’s nice to have a name to put to such a pretty face.” You blush but it's sincere. The rest are side-eyeing you suspiciously Jeongin only has a questionable look on his face, you mouth ‘tell you later’ to him which melts the furrowed brow expression on his face.

“Great news,” Seungmin says as he sits in the seat between “The company wants to sign you a two-record deal. Some terms are negotiable but I’ll need an answer tonight.”

“What are the terms?” Chan is the first to speak.

“55k sign-on bonus, 15% cut on ticket sales, 10% on album sales, and we keep the royalties.”

“No.” Jeongin says firmly. Seungmin has a shocked look on his face.

“We want our royalties, we write everything ourselves. We’ve produced everything ourselves up until now. Our royalties and right to the music is non-negotiable.” Jisung speaks up but there’s not a single thought of consideration for the offer on his face.

Seungmin looks to Minho for help, “I told you they weren’t gonna crack on that,” he says with a shrug. 

“We’d be willing to give a portion of the royalties, but not all.” Hyunjin jumps in.

“20% for you and 80% for us” Chan says.

“You’re twisting my arm on this guys.” Seungmin looks at you all with pleading eyes, it’s so cute it almost works on you. You see why he’s the scout now. He stands up to pull his phone out “Let me make a call.”

He walks away leaving the 6 of you at the table quite, a bit jittery and anxious. Your mind brings you back to what Hyunjin said a few moments ago when you feel fingers brushing the side of your thigh where the hem of your dress rides up. You don’t have a chance to say something to him before Jeongin has a look of distress on his face, his grip on your thigh is getting a little tighter.

“I hate this. Everything about this makes me so anxious.’ He leans his head on your shoulder slumping back. You caress his face making him look at you.

“I can call Yasu, he might be a little helpful. Besides, unless he has some paperwork on him for you to sign at this very moment, which I highly doubt, nothing is final until you put pen to paper.” Yasu was a lawyer your friend of yours, very intimidating to look at with his dark sunglasses always on, the height, the piercings, and his bald head. He was a sweetheart but he had a cold look that always helped when you were going out. 

“Please, could you?” He looks at you with his puppy eyes, you kiss his forehead before pulling your phone out to call him.

“Let me out, I gotta make a call.” You say to Hyunjin as your pulling up Yasu’s contact information. He doesn’t budge, “Hyun.”

“Gotta crawl across, baby, I don’t really feel like moving.” You wait a moment.

He can’t be serious. While you’d normally argue with him, you needed to call Yasu before Seungmin came back.

Fuck it. 

Without a second thought, you put your legs over his lap before scooting yourself across his lap. That’s when you feel it, he’s hard. You're pulling your dress down again.

“You know you’re a real pain in my ass?” You huff

“I was hoping it would be a pleasure”

You look past him at Jeongin who’s still processing what he saw once again, he needs another moment.

You scurry off to a secluded corner to call Yasu.

It’s a brief conversation, he warns you of what to look out for and to call him first before signing anything.

“Hey, can I ask you something unrelated?”

“Of course.”

“If my boyfriend's band member who is also my long time friend, won’t stop flirting with me despite walking in on me and my very loving boyfriend having sex… what do i do to make him stop?”

He says nothing, you can hear him sigh deeply on the other end.

“Hyunjin.” It’s more of a statement then question, you hum in response. “Throw him a bone.”

“In what way?”

“That’s up to you. Goodnight.” 

Your head spinning with ideas. You store it in the back of your mind for a moment before walking back seeing Minho waiving the waiter over to collect the bill.

“What happened?” You ask Jeongin who stands beside Jisung out of the booth.

“We’re renegotiating tomorrow afternoon, let Yasu know we’ll need him if they want to sign,” Jeongin says while wrapping an arm around you. You're texting your friend once more, giving him the details of when and where before he confirms he’ll be there first thing.

Jisung, Chan, and Minho had departed with their goodnights by the time you refocus on your surroundings. Hyunjin is still lingering, standing next to the both of you.

Throw him a bone.

“Hyun, you want to come out with us for a few drinks?” Jeongin asks. It seems someone has already beaten you to the question. Hyunjin is glancing at you once more before that stupid grin is back on his face.

“Sure. I got no one better to do. Sorry, I meant nothing better to do.”

You’re walking down to the speakeasy bar down the street a few blocks over, it was pretty hipster. Dark velvet walls, gold lighting fixtures, and indie shoegaze music. It looked like a burlesque hall but hipster men and women sprinkled everywhere. You often came here for a fun time after a show, it seemed as good of a time as any.

Hyunjin grabbed your drinks while you grabbed a table in the corner tucked from everyone else, your back to being sandwiched between the two of them. You take what was probably your third drink of the night, it’s liquid courage. Every time you felt a buzz like this, your actions were a bit unpredictable. You're swaying a bit, Hyunjin is staring at your lips. The entire time you’ve been sitting here, they were two chatterboxes not sparing an ounce of attention. 

“Truth or dare?” You ask. Jeongin is leaning into your back with his head pressed to your shoulder. 

“Truth,” Hyunjin answers without sparing a glance at Jeongin, he’s intrigued by the mischief in your eyes.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” Hyunjin’s brow raises.

“Yeah. I do. How does that make you feel?”

“Gotta play the game right, Hyunjinnie,” You say taunting a finger at him. 

“Fine, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Jeongin is pressing his lips into your shoulder.

“Take your panties off.” Your chest is fluttering, your boyfriend groans a bit.

“How do you know I’m wearing any?”

“Prove it, then.” You shake your head while you lift off the seat to pull them down a bit before shimming them off. You pick them up tossing the black thong into Hyunjins lap.

“Good girl.” Jeogin nips at your ear, and you let a moan slip while his hands start to paw at the flesh of your thighs. “Truth or dare, Hyunjin?” 

‘“Dare,” Hyunjin’s head tilts like a confused puppy as he speaks.

“Kiss me.” Your pussy is drolling with the way Hyunjin is looking at you. You feel yourself getting hotter under his gaze.

Without another second passing, Hyunjin’s lips are attacking your own. It was everything you imagined, his lips were soft and full against yours. His kisses are wet from the way his tongue is dancing with yours. He has a hand in your hair pulling ever so softly, yours tangling in his hair while your other grips at Jeongin who sits behind you. He pulls away to bring his free hand up to your boyfriend's face, he grabs him by the hair pulling him in for a kiss. There, smushed between the two of them, you have the perfect view of their lips and tongues fighting for dominance. The wet smacking and saliva connecting their mouths have you whimpering. It was so lewd to be pressed between the two of them while they moaned and gasped into each other's mouths. They both pull back looking at the flush across your face while panting for air. Jeongin is the first to attack your neck on the side closest to him, and Hyunjin follows suit. You let out a whiny gasp, rubbing their thighs up and down before moving to their crotches feeling the strained hard cock’s beneath their pants. Jeongin’s hand makes its way to your exposed cunt, this pulls you out of your lust-filled haze. You remember you're in public again. You’re pulling Jeongin off once more too.

“Hotel. Now. Not here.” His lips are tinted pink and glossy from hickeys he's just sucked into your skin.

He groans but silently agrees grabbing your purse, Hyunjin pulls away from your neck reluctantly. Pulling you with him out of the booth. Jeongin is leading you out of the now crowded bar, holding your hand while Hyunjin keeps a hand on your waist right beside you. Your heart is racing, pounding against your chest. The walk back to your hotel feels like an eternity, Jeongin is repeatedly slamming down the elevator button with impatience. Hyun is pressed firmly against your back, his arm wrapped around your waist and his hand splayed on your tummy. Never been more thankful to have him holding you so firmly in fear your legs would give out any moment. Hyunjin nips at your ear teasingly while you feel his growing erection poke into your back.  The elevator dings, Jeongin dragging the two of you inside. Once the doors shut on you three, Jeongin kisses you once more, his hand rests on your throat holding you in place. Hyunjin is groaning at the sight feeling himself harden even more at the sight of his friend dominating you, his hands are feeling your chest. Hyunjin slips a hand underneath your dress from behind, feeling the way the lack of panties has only made your pussy droll with excitement for him.

You're pulled off the elevator in a swift motion by the two of them, being straight into the room and onto the bed. You're ripping your clothes off while the other two ogle at the scene in front of them, you fully naked in front of them.

"Who's first?" You ask smirking, trail hand between your thighs, turned on by the sight of the two of them staring at you with hunger in their eyes. They turn to look at each other but Jeongin does the unexpected. He's grabbing a fistful of Hyunjin's hair leaning into his ear.

"I want to watch you eat her out first. You can manage that can't you?" Hyunjin is wincing in pain and pleasure before muttering out a yes. "Good, strip your clothes then."

Hyunjin is throwing his clothes off haphazardly around the room, Jeongin sheds the last of his clothes before he settles down on the bed sitting behind you. Hyunjin is down to his boxers, staring at the both of you before sliding them down revealing his cock. He's big like Jeongin, he's not as long but he's just as girthy if not more. You haven't stopped playing with the slick between your thighs, having enjoyed every moment of the strip show, you glance back to see Jeongin, stroking himself looking between you two. Hyunjin is pulling your hands away from yourself pining them above your head. He's laid atop of you, the feeling of his tip so close to your entrance has you whimpering and wiggling under to get some friction.

"Not so fast. I've waited so long for this." He mumbles with his lips just brushing your own, he goes in for a kiss. It's short but filthy with the way his tongue slips. He pulls away, he holds your wrists in one hand to bring his hand down to your face and squeeze your cheeks.

"Open." You open your mouth only for him to spit right onto your tongue. "Swallow."

You do as he says.

"Fuck, I'm gonna ruin you, such a good girl." He glances at Jeongin while moving his way down your body with teasing kisses. Jeongin gets the hint and leans forward to take hold of your wrists. 

When he finally gets to your thighs, you're already whining for him to do anything. He takes his time watching you through lidded eyes, kissing the inside of your thighs until he's faced with your cunt. He licks a strong stripe up flicking your clit leaving you gasping for more, pushing a thigh up and over his shoulder, he starts with slow but firm licks your clit. One arm stretched across your hips to hold you in place while his free hand repeatedly slaps to the outside of your thigh. After enough teasing, his mouth is fully latched to your cunt, messily slurping up every drop of you. You’re screaming out at his torment, looking up at Jeongin who has let up on his grip on your wrist. He's enticed by the way Hyunjin's face is buried in between your legs. He uses his free hand to grope your tit, massaging the boob in his hand and leaning down to kiss you. You're moaning into his mouth when you feel Hyunjin's finger now brushing your g spot. You feel your eyes rolling back and the knot in your stomach about to burst, the feeling of his lips sucking at your clit, and your back arching off the bed begging to feel relief. You can feel Hyunjin’s fingers pick up pace and his tongue flicking repeatedly as you feel your orgasm approaching, and then the rubber band inside you snaps. Legs shaking, body twitching, and cries pouring from your throat as your release drips down Hyunjin’s face. 

With every touch, your skin feels like fire as you lay there trying to come back to the present. You almost missed the way Jeongin pulled Hyunjin from between your thighs, attacking his face with hot, sloppy kisses, desperate to know what he tasted like with your release coating his lips. When you regain consciousness, Hyunjin is flipping you over onto your stomach, lifting your hips in the air.

“Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?” Jeongin is leaned down by your face. You nod and whisper yes, throat tired from the screams you let out moments ago. He kisses your forehead before maneuvering to sit in front of you, his legs spread while his cock leaks with precum. His tip is angry red, begging to be touched. You’re reminded that Hyunjin is behind you when you feel a harsh smack on your ass, fingers playing between your folds. He gripped his cock with one hand, stroking himself a few while aligning your hips into place. You feel the way he rubs his tip against your dripping cunt, you wiggle your hips begging him to just put in.

“Please... Hyun please just fuck me please,” You plead while gripping the bed, nails digging into the comforter.

“Anything for you, my angel. Such a dirty girl crying out for my cock arent you?”

He’s slamming his hips into you giving you little time to adjust to feeling, his cock brushes against your cervix. He’s thicker then Jeongin, you can feel every ridge of him inside you. You yelp clenching down on him which causes Hyunjin to groan loudly, digging his fingertips into your hips. He moves slowly pulling himself out before bottoming out inside you again. Your whimpers only egg him on, Jeongin is fisting himself, all thoughts consumed by your moans and the way Hyunjin is slamming himself in and out. 

“Gonna fill you up so good. Watch me empty my load into your angel girlfriend, Jeongin.”

Hyunjin picks his pace up, the sound of skin slapping echoes in the room while he pounds into you from behind. You attempt to bury your face in the blanket you lay on top but Hyunjin is drunk on the way you cry out in pleasure, he wants you crying out his name while Jeongin watches. He pulls you up by your hair, lifting you to hold yourself up on your hands, he wraps an arm around your throat, leaning over your body to chokehold you. He continues his merciless thrusting and looks up to Jeongin while he grunts burying himself inside you to the hilt. He has a catlike smirk on his face while you cry out again feeling his tip brushing that spot inside you again. Jeongin is rapidly unfolding at the sight, but he can’t bring himself to release yet. Hyunjin lets you go before pulling out of you leaving you crying out at the empty feeling. He flips you onto your back, you roll over like a ragdoll now that every muscle in your body is worn. He settles on his lifting your hips into his lap before beginning to pound into your cunt. He holds your hips in the air while your back is arching once again, he’s so close and this new angel is bring him close to his own climax. Your whole body shakes and pussy clenches down on him, trying to milk every last drop of cum out of him. With a few sloppy thrusts, he climaxes inside you, painting your insides white with his cum. Your 2nd orgasm falters off as you aren’t as close, when you feel him pull out, your legs shake, needing him to finish what he started. You pant in place aching to feel your release. You look up at Jeongin, your boyfriend who watched his best friend just dump his load into you.

“Sit on my face.” It’s all he says, it's all Jeongin needs to say. He couldn’t cum, not when your pussy was dripping with Hyunjin’s cum. He needed to taste. When he finally scoots down the bed low enough for you to straddle his face and hold the headboard for support. He gives your ass a hard slap, gripping your hips down to smother his face, he was going to eat you out like you were his last meal. Without another second to spare, his tongue is dipping in and out between your folds, Hyunjin’s cum pouring onto his tongue. Lapping every drop into his mouth like you were spring water in the desert. 

Hyunjin had been watching this play out. Trying to catch his breath but he’s hard again, he can’t ignore the burning desire in his stomach to suck Jeongin off right now, when would he ever get another opportunity like this again? He makes his way back onto the bed push Jeongins legs apart, before settling down right between them just like he had done to you earlier. You look over your shoulder catching a glance before Hyunjin is spitting on your boyfriend’s cock to start stroking him. You had a burning feeling in your stomach recalling back to that night Innie fucked you on the couch remembering the fever flush that came over you seeing the way Hyunjin drank the image up. You brought back to reality when Jeongin groans into your pussy, overwhelmed by the feeling of Hyunjin taking him all the way down his throat. Jeongin snaps his hips up causing Hyunjin to gag and tighten his throat around him, you grind your hips into his mouth looking down at him while leaving another harsh smack across your ass.

You’re close to cumming again, your hand fisted in Innie’s hair while he moans into your pussy. He picks up the speed rapidly flicking his tongue on your clit, your thighs hurting from both the approaching orgasm and keeping yourself up from suffocating your boyfriend. Hyunjin is sloppily sucking your boyfriend off, pulling off for a moment to lick at his balls before flattening his tongue, and licking a long stripe from his balls to his tip. You once again feel your orgasm washing over you and cum shakily down on Jeongins face, he gleefully takes your hips in his hand helping you ride out his orgasm. You pull yourself shortly after to keep yourself from falling into full overstimulation, Hyunjin still lies between your boyfriend's legs, bringing Jeongin close to his own orgasm. Jeongin lifts his head up just enough to watch him shove Hyunjin’s head further down on his cock once more, holding him in place while he empties himself into his mouth. Out of breath, Innie lays there while Hyunjin slowly pulls his mouth off, letting Jeongins cum drip down out of his mouth back into his cock.

Panting, out of breath laying next to Jeongin, you hug his arm leaning your head on his shoulder. He smooths your hair down kissing your forehead muttering an ‘I love you’. The bed shifts when you feel Hyunjin lie next to you, you're all worn out, tired, and sore. Jeongin is the first to move with shaky legs, he makes his way to the bathroom to run a bath for you. Hyunjin is holding you in his arms, his head is pressed into your shoulder.

“I love you… I love you both so much… this won’t ruin us right?”

You roll over in his arms to look at him, Hyunjin had tears welling in his eyes. You knew him better than anyone else, his efforts to find a home in someone else’s body were all efforts made in a vain mindset, that sex could somehow fix the hole he had in his heart. He was always going to be in love with you, in love with you both. His heart held as much love for you as it did for Jeongin, someone he was never quite sure would ever reciprocate the love in the same way. 

“No, this changes some things but it’ll never ruin us. Come on, let's shower, we can talk things over in the morning. For now, we can hold on to this moment.”

A tear slips past, you wipe the tear away from his cheek rubbing a soothing thumb over his face. Hyunjin walks to the bathroom first, Jeongin comes back out for a moment. 

“Baby, I think you’re gonna have to help me to the bathroom. My legs feel like jello.” You tell Jeongin as laughs, he’s still hard so his erection still stands tall when he stands in front of you.

“I got you,” He picks you up bridal style, you wrap your arms around his neck. He stops for a moment with you like this. You cup his face and kiss him, a sweet one, a reassurance that you love him. He presses his forehead to yours, “I have so many mixed emotions right now… but I know… I need you both… more then ever.”

“I’m right there with you. Now, let's shower please, I’m begging you.”

After having both of them hold you up in the shower to wash, a cooperative effort to clean up the mess you left behind in the bed, you finally settle under the new sheets and comforter after having to ask the hotel housekeeping for shamefully. You wore one of the many band t-shirts Jeongin had, it was just the right amount of worn to feel soft against hot skin. Hyunjin grabbed spare clothes from his room before returning to the shared room for some much-needed cuddling and aftercare. You’d fall asleep sandwiched between the two of them, Hyunjin pressed to your back and your head on Jeongins chest.

You wake up the next morning to your phone blowing up, Hyunjin and Jeongin both passed out in a comatose sleep. You scramble across the bed to reach the dresser.

"Hello?" You ask groggily.

"Where are you and where is the other half of this band? I'm with the rest at the record companies office and the meeting is in 20 minutes." Yasu's voice is like a splash cold water to your face.

"Oh FUCk-" Your shoving the other two awake, shouting something about meeting and company. They both drop to the floor scrambling to find clothes.

"They'll be there soon maybe 10 minutes, 15 at most." You say as you watch the flee out the door.

"I'll try to stall till they get here... you said "they"... did you?..."

You can hear a deep soothing voice calling to you from the distance but you cannot understand it; all you know is that it sounds beautiful and you have to find the source of it.

You don't even blink as you practically glide through the forest, the leaves crunching beneath your feet and twigs snapping under the pressure of your hurried steps.

Before you can find the source of the alluring voice, a strong wind picks up seemingly out of nowhere.

The coldness of it snaps you out of your daze and you can no longer hear the dark voice calling to you.

The wind brings forth black clouds, preparing a thunderstorm and as you look around after finally blinking and somewhat coming to your senses, you realize that you have no idea where you are.

You've never been in this part of the forest, and you also quickly realize that you don't have your phone on you or even your jacket, you've walked out of your house in your nightwear, somehow having the thought of at least putting your sneakers on.

Panic quickly seeps in as you tremble from the cold wind howling through the branches, swirling the leaves all around you.

Fear settles in your bones as your eyes water, the sound of thunder rumbling in the sky and shaking the earth has you hugging yourself in comfort as you stand in one place, unable to move.

Harsh rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs on your right have you turning your head fast in that direction and you squint your eyes in the darkness, trying to make out a shape.

What once was nothing suddenly becomes a flurry of iridescent lights, your eyes can barely stand to look at it and the only shape you could make out is a pair of big transluscent wings.

"Don't be afraid."- you hear a sweet voice before you slip into the darkness, expecting to hit the earth beneath you as you sway but you don't feel anything.

-

You're slowly waking up, the scent of flowers fills up the space around you as you lay on the most comfortable bed you've ever been in.

There's a weird sound flooding your ears, equally soothing as it is unnerving, coupled with a sweet voice singing a beautiful melody, unlike something you've ever heard before.

As you finally manage to open your eyes, you have to shield them from so much bright light and sparkling that attack them.

"W-where am I?"- your voice is groggy as you sit up and almost slip off of the weird bed suspended in the air as it hangs from the tall ceiling, the material of the sheets feels like pure silk, but even more smooth than any silk you've touched before.

The smell of flowers becomes more intense.

"You're in my house."- a creature appears on your right and you shriek, jolting and almost slipping again.

Even though fear has you trembling, the ethereal beauty of the being somehow calms you down.

The creature lifts it's hand up and the swinging of the "bed" stops.

"Wh-what are you?!"- your eyes are fixed on the creature's transluscent wings, the colors changing as it slowly moves them and you realize that the creature is levitating next to you.

They start laughing as you keep looking at them with a confused expression on your face.

"I'm a syplh."- the creature says like you should absolutely know what that is.

"A what?"- you chuckle incredulously, you must've really hit your head hard when you fainted earlier.

The creature rolls their eyes before side-eyeing you.

"Of course you don't know! Humans don't know anything! You've heard of fae folk, right?"- the creature asks and you nod.

"Like faeries?"- you ask.

"They're just part of fae folk. Like sylphs."

"I'm hallucinating though, right? I'm somewhere in a hospital, probably in a freaking coma."- you shake your head and the sylph reaches their hand towards you and pinches your arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?"- you ask as you rub your skin.

"See, you're awake. I saved you, by the way. You should be thankful."- the sylph squints at you.

"Saved me from what? The storm?"- you ask and the sylph sighs in annoyance.

"I created the storm to save you."- the creature says like it's the most normal thing ever.

"From who?"- you ask, it's like someone has deleted your memory leading up to the storm, you don't remember walking out of your house, you don't remember going into the forest, you only remember the wind, the storm and you fainting.

It's the last memories you have, after the one of you going to bed safely in your house.

"Him."- the sylph shivers, the jewels on his hands and around his neck glinting in the light, making you realize that the weird buzzing sound comes directly from the shiny gems.

"Him?"- you raise you eyebrow.

"I will not say his name. He can hear it."- the creature whispers the last part.

"Alright."- you decide to play along. "What is your name then or do they just call you sylph?"

"Of course they don't. My name is Hyunjin."- he says, crossing his arms.

"Alright Hyunjin, I think I want to go home now."- you emphasize his name.

"Ha!"- he scoffs. "The human says it like it's that easy."

"Don't call me 'the human'. I have a name too. It's y/n."- you cross your arms on your chest too.

"Okay, y/n. You should be a little more grateful that I saved your life. You're acting like it's no big deal but I risked my own life to save you."- Hyunjin looks annoyed.

"Okay, thank you? What do you want me to do?"

"You still don't believe me, I see."- he purses his lips in thought. "Give me your hand."

Your eyebrows raise in question but you still reach your hand out to him.

"Close your eyes."- his hands are soft as they clasp around yours and shivers run down your spine.

"Come on."- Hyunjin nudges you as you keep staring at him.

With a huff, you close your eyes and Hyunjin starts speaking what you would only describe as nonsense words but you guess it must mean something to him.

As he keeps chanting, it's like you're being put into some kind of trance and you feel something building up inside you, making it's way to your lungs and stealing your breath.

You quickly retract your hand as you feel like you're being suffocated and the feeling disappears just as quickly as it came over you.

"What the hell did you do to me?!"- you panic as you hold your hand to your chest.

"Just wanted to show you the smallest sliver of how you would feel if he took you."- the sylph looks serious and something inside you flickers with recognition.

"Okay, let's say I believe you. And you saved my life and I am thankful for that, what do you want in return?"- you ask.

"Hmm. I haven't thought of it yet."- the sylph smirks a little.

"What? So your plan is to keep me here until you think of something that makes me useful to you?"- you look at him incredulously.

"Maybeeeee."

"Hey, you can't do that!"- you yell out as he levitates away from you.

"And you can't get down from my little swing so you better get used to it."- he says and levitates away as you stare down at him.

"Get back here sylph!"- you yell but he just chuckles and leaves you alone.

You can't believe this is happening to you. This must be some kind of fever dream or you're really in a coma and the doctors gave you some meds that have you dreaming up all sorts of things.

You scan your surroundings, you're too high up to jump down and not break your legs, unless you can somehow fall exactly onto the regular bed under you but you don't trust your aiming skills.

The room beneath you is full of art, plants and sparkly gems that emit different colored light, making everything look shiny and pretty.

You don't necessarily think that the sylph is evil, but he is keeping you here against your will with no way to get down.

Whatever the case is, you've no other choice but to lay back down.

Your heart feels heavy as you wonder what's gonna happen to you, your eyes fill with tears and you hug yourself in an attempt to comfort your worried mind.

It's been at least two weeks since the sylph practically started holding you hostage.

He has levitated you down where he usually hangs out, after you lied that you're afraid of heights. He gave you food and a place to shower and sleep, he tries to make you feel comfortable every day you spend with him, you really have it all but you still want to go home.

The problem is, the more time you spend in Hyunjin's house, surrounded by all the shiny magical gems that hum and buzz, the sweet flowers he grows and his carefully crafted art, you start forgetting more and more details of your actual life.

But, at the same time as you keep forgetting yourself, you also keep learning more about Hyunjin.

About his love of art and music, his hauntingly beautiful singing voice, about the properties of his magical gems, about his ability to randomly become invisible just to get on your nerves and tease you a little bit.

And still, his beauty keeps pulling you in, hypnotizing you and making a part of you long to stay with him.

"I have to go do something. Don't even think about running away, I put protection on all exits. He'll never find you here. You're safe, I promise."- the sylph speaks as he caresses your face.

"Please... I just want to go home."- your eyes water. "I-I can't remember where I live."- you add as tears spill down your cheeks.

"Shh, I'll help you remember. Don't worry, I won't harm you."- he promises as he wipes your tears but you don't know if you can trust him.

You've no other choice but to nod at him and watch him turn his back and disappear out the door, leaving you alone with the buzzing and humming.

The days drone on and on before he comes back, stumbling into the house, messy and full of cuts and bruises.

"Hyunjin! What happened to you?"- you ask.

"Doesn't matter."- he shakes his head quickly.

"You're hurt!"- you hurry towards him, about to touch him and he flinches away.

"Don't touch me. I need to heal myself."- he says as you stare at him in shock and wonder.

He turns his back to you, his hands working around the table quickly that you can't even see what exactly he's doing.

The color of his wings seems darkened and he seems upset, gusts of wind running through his hair and hitting your face as you slowly approach him.

"Don't come closer!"- Hyunjin says as if he can sense your presence.

"I'm sorry."- you back away with tears in your eyes and his shoulders hunch up before he turns to look at you.

"It's dangerous for you right now, okay? Don't cry, I'm just thinking about your safety."- he says and you nod quickly, believing him as you blink away your tears and try not to freak out.

He makes some kind of circle with his gems, chanting something that sounds like gibberish to you, and the humming of the crystals becomes louder.

They shine brighter and brighter until you have to shield your eyes, the sound of sparkling becomes louder until it explodes into complete silence.

You slowly blink your eyes open, and Hyunjin is almost back to his normal state, his wings showing all the iridescent colors again.

"I will need to sleep for a few days. Don't worry."- he says, exhaustion written all over his pretty face, his plump lips pouty.

"For a few days?!"- you shriek.

"Yes, you have enough food. Don't try to wake me up, it's cardinal that I get my rest."

"You're not gonna tell me what happened?"- you ask, chewing on your lip nervously as Hyunjin levitates towards his bed.

"It doesn't matter, it's over now. You better not worry your pretty little head about anything. Good night, then."- he says, falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Your lips are parted as you were about to protest but the only sound that comes out is an annoyed huff.

You're angry at him for not telling you anything and keeping you in the dark and you're scared about your memories slipping away from you, the more the days go by, the more things you forget.

You don't remember where you lived or worked, or even what your favorite songs was.

Panic overtakes you as you try to open every door inside Hyunjin's house only to be pushed away by a gust of wind every time you try.

There's really no way to escape.

-

Hyunjin actually sleeps for five whole days.

You take care of his plants while he recharges, you look at the pictures in books he owns since you can't read his language, you observe his sleeping form, laying your body next to his every night, careful not to wake him up.

Every day that passed by, the scent of flowers became stronger, almost suffocating you in it's sweetness and making you realize that it's Hyunjin who smells so intoxicating, not just the plants around him.

When he finally wakes up one evening, you're quick to run to his side.

"Y/n."- he looks almost surprised to see you and you realize that you had almost forgotten your name.

"Hyunjin, are you sick?"- you gasp when you notice that he's covered in sweat, his pupils are blown and his cheeks look red, the redness spreading to his neck, down to his collarbone, down where your eyes keep falling until you see the bulge under his flimsy robe.

"Oh."- your eyes are wide.

"I need your help."- he squirms a little.

"W-with what?"- you act dumb as your heart starts beating hard against your chest.

"I need you to let me fuck you."- he says it without blinking and you start laughing incredulously.

"What is wrong with you?"- you frown as you step back a little.

Hyunjin grips the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning white.

"This could be your favor for me saving your life. I- ugh- have to mate with someone but I don't want to. The problem is that I get like this and well I can't mate with you since you're human but you could at least help me get through this and-"

"Shut up for a moment."- you say, feeling annoyed.

"How do I know that you'll let me go home after that?"

"I promised I will help you. A sylph never breaks their promise!"- Hyunjin practically whines, beads of sweat rolling down his face, the scent of flowers is so intense that you have to take a deep breath in.

"Says a sylph."- you narrow your eyes at him. "This isn't your first time that you feel like this. What do you usually do when it happens?"

"What do you think I do?"- he scoffs at you, motioning with his hands.

"Oh. Right."- you bite on your lip.

You think about it, maybe this is the only ticket to go back home, the only way out, and Hyunjin's scent is kind of messing with your head, making you feel floaty and turned on, arousal already gathering between your legs.

Do you really even have a choice?

"Okay, but only if you first tell me what the hell is going on here. Who attacked you? What did you go out for in the first place? Who are you keeping me hidden from?"- you demand as you cross your arms.

"It's hard to answer all these questions right now."- Hyunjin whines again, you can see his hard member twitching.

"Answer or suffer, sylph."- you smirk and he growls as he looks at you, clenching his fists as his fingers are still wrapped around the silky sheets.

"Goblins attacked me. I was out gathering some plants for healing and spells. And I told you I can't say his name, all I can tell you is that he's really evil. There, are you happy?"- the sylph breathes heavily.

"For now. I can see you're really struggling."- you feel like you have the upper hand suddenly as you slowly approach him.

"Yes I am. Now come here and help me."- he says and you chuckle as you hover over him.

"Say please."- you tease and his teeth clench as he looks at you.

"Please."

You grab his face and slowly lean down, your lips pressing on his and Hyunjin kisses you back passionately, the flowery scent enveloping your senses as he grips your arms and pulls you into his lap.

You gasp as your core lands directly on his hard bulge, and he starts pushing his hips up into you instantly, making you moan as his tongue prods at your lips.

You let him explore your mouth as your fingers tangle in his hair and his hands grab at your body desperately while you grind on him and meet his hips as you move together in a steady rhythm.

"Fuck this."- he mumbles against your lips and swiftly turns you around, your back hitting the bed as you whimper and look at him with wide eyes.

Whatever upper hand you thought you had was gone in that moment.

He's impatient as he strips quickly, his body on display for you, lean, toned, shiny from the sweat that smells of the sweetest flowers, his cock big and heavy, desperate to be buried inside your heat.

"Oh."- you gasp as you look at it. You've never seen a cock so big and so pretty as his, you even want to taste it.

"Like what you see?"- he smirks and you nod quickly, your pussy dripping with so much arousal.

"You get to use it for your pleasure."- he keeps smirking as he nods at you to get undressed.

You undress just as quickly as he did, letting him see everything.

"Fuck, you're beautiful."- he gasps almost as if he wasn't expecting it, his hands automatically grabbing at your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples.

"H-Hyunjin."- you moan, your arousal is leaking down onto the sheets beneath you and Hyunjin can smell it, and it makes him feel even more entraced by you.

"I've never fucked a human actually."- he says as his hand slides down towards your core.

"Yeah? Should I feel honored?"- your eyes are hazy as you smirk lazily, his fingertips on your clit.

"You should."- he looks at you with a cocky smile, his fingers moving in a circle.

"Fine, I'm honored."- you say and he chuckles as he slides his fingertips down between your folds.

"Wow, so wet."- Hyunjin's eyes roll back as his cock twitches. "Can't wait to sink into you."- he adds.

"Hyunjin!"- you whimper as he starts flicking your clit fast, the wetness making you feel even more turned on.

"You think you can take all of me?"- he smirks.

"Yes, yes!"- you moan, leaning into his touch as he abuses your swollen nub.

"I'm still gonna prep you. I don't wanna hurt you."- he says it sweetly, his fingers prodding at your entrance.

You whimper as he pushes them in and starts fucking you gently.

"Ah, please, faster!"- you beg, everything is overwhelming and it's like your pleasure is hitting you harder than it usually would.

Hyunjin obliges, fucking into you harder and faster, attacking your sweet spot, his lips are parted and his eyes are dark and full of lust as he keeps you locked under his intense gaze.

His wings sparkle behind him, creating light around his beautiful body, making him look even more ethereal.

You moan loudly as your orgasm hits you hard, making you spill your juices on his fingers and soak the bed under you as he slowly pulls them out.

"Mm."- Hyunjin whines as he tastes you on his fingertips. "You taste so sweet. I like it."

"H-Hyunjin."- you whimper, feeling delirious as your eyes fall down to his throbbing cock.

"You want this?"- he smirks as he wraps his nimble fingers around his length and starts pumping it slowly, giving you a little show.

"P-please."- you whine, feeling so desperate to be filled up to the hilt.

"I'll give it to you, darling."- the nickname makes you twitch as he presses the tip of his cock against you, running it on your folds and gathering your wetness before he slowly pushes in.

"Ah!"- you whimper at the big stretch, bigger than you've ever had before and he keeps pushing in making you wonder just how long he is.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well. Didn't think a little human pussy like yours would be so greedy."- Hyunjin smirks, feeling powerful as you look at him almost cross-eyed and he hasn't even started thrusting yet.

"H-Hyunjin."- you grip at his arm, your fingers almost slipping agains this sweaty skin.

"You feel that?"- he presses on your stomach and you jolt as you whimper and look down. "I'm in your womb. Wish I could breed you."- he groans.

"Wish so too."- you mumble, feeling like you're in some kind of trance or under some kind of spell, and maybe you are but at this point you don't even care, not when he starts slowly thrusting, his cock sliding deliciously against your wet walls.

He smirks as your eyes flutter and roll back in your head, his length is touching spots inside you that no one else has touched before, making you see stars as the sounds of squelching fill the room up.

"Ah, so warm."- Hyunjin moans, taking out half his length and pushing it back in, faster with every thrust, the tip pressing against your cervix.

You open your eyes and look at him, teary as you wrap your arms around his wet body and pull him in closer, your legs wrapping around him, trapping him inside your warmth and inside your embrace.

A flicker of something soft sparkles in his eyes and it seems to even surprise him as he grips at your breasts and speeds up, making you take it deeper and faster, his cock splitting you open only for him.

"Ah- Hyunjin!"- you cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.

"Y/n."- he moans into your ear as he bends your legs and they end up on his shoulders, making him hit even deeper inside you, his balls smacking against your ass.

A string of curses and unrecognizable words keep spilling out of your mouth as he abuses your hole, bringing his weight down on you, gripping your wrists and pinning them down next to your head.

"I will make you mine."- he growls, losing control over himself as he fucks you fervently, all coherent thoughts and sentences have left your brain.

"Yours!"- you moan and he smirks, one of his hands pressing on your tummy to feel how deep he is inside you.

"Only mine."- Hyunjin growls as you cream around his cock, driving him crazy as he twitches inside you, releasing his load deep into you, the warm liquid filling you up, drops of it sliding out even though he still has you plugged up with his cock.

The scent of sweet and fresh flowers is overwhelming and your pussy clenches around his cock that's still semi-hard.

"Sylphs can fuck for days without stopping, did you know that?"- he smirks at you, caressing your face and moving a hair that was stuck to your forehead.

Your lips open in wonder but still you can't form a sentence.

"Don't worry, I know you humans are fragile. But, I'm still gonna push your limits, darling. You have to let me know when it's too much, is that okay?"- Hyunjin asks with a gentle smile, his cock becoming harder inside you again.

"Yes."- you say breathlessly.

"Good girl. Let's see how much you can take."

-

As you open your eyes the next morning, last night becomes a blur of pleasure and passion.

Your body is sore and you can barely move, your eyes instantly search for Hyunjin.

"Good morning."- he appears next to you with a cup in his hand. "I know you're in pain so I mixed this up for you, it'll make you feel better."- he adds with a gentle smile on his face, reaching the cup towards you.

"What is it?"- your voice is hoarse, almost unrecognizable to you as you take the cup into your hand and look at the shiny liquid.

"Just a healing potion."- he nudges you to drink. "Finish all of it."

"Okay."- you nod and start drinking, it tastes sweet and refreshing like you were drinking the nectar directly out of a flower.

"There you go."- Hyunjin tilts the cup so you have no choice but to swallow all of the content in it.

"I-is your heat over?"- you ask timidly, wrapping yourself tighter with the sheets.

"No, but it's better now. Yesterday was the peak, so I was quite desperate. Sorry you had to see me like that."- the sylph's cheeks become rosy.

"It's okay."- you say and try to get up, only for your legs to give up immediately, making you fall back down onto the bed.

"Woah, be careful. You need to rest, y/n. Don't try to get up."- Hyunjin is quick to put his arms around you and pull you into a more comfortable position.

Suddenly, your eyes water as you look at him.

"Y-you said you'd take me h-home after y-yesterday."- you hiccup as hot tears start sliding down your cheeks.

"I will, as soon as you finish resting. We have a long way to walk to the portal, and it's very dangerous. That's why I have this for you."- Hyunjin levitates up towards his cabinets and pulls out a necklace with a shiny amethyst pendant, the gem hums and buzzes as he comes closer to you.

"What is that?"

"Amethyst. It's for protection. I won't let anyone harm you."- Hyunjin smiles.

"By anyone you mean him?"- you sniffle.

"Yes, him, and any other evil creature. I will get you home safely, that is, if you even want to go home."

"W-what is that supposed to mean?"- you swallow as Hyunjin clasps the necklace around your neck, the shiny pendant soothingly humming against your skin.

"Well, you probably don't remember much by now. Human minds can't really endure being in this realm for too long."- Hyunjin explains.

"But, I haven't been here for that long, have I? Maybe like a month or two?"- you ask and Hyunjin chuckles.

"Darling, it's been almost 6 years since you've been here. Well, in human time. You're correct about it being around two months in here."

"Six years?!"- you shriek. "I've been gone for six years to everyone that knows me in real life?"

"Yes, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before that time works differently here. I didn't want to upset you like you are now."- the sylph bites on his lip nervously.

"Oh my god."- you start crying again, your breathing becoming shallower as you start shivering.

"Hey, hey calm down."- Hyunjin quickly wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body, his fingers soothing on your skin. "It's okay."

"No, it is not!"- you try to push him away. "It's your fault, you kidnapped me!"

"I didn't kidnap you y/n, that's nonsense! I saved your life and I'm keeping you safe from him."

"Who? Who are you keeping me safe from?"- you demand, still trying to push Hyunjin away but his arms are strong around you and he doesn't budge.

"Fine, I'll tell you more information if it will get you to calm down but I cannot say his name or he may find us and then everything will be in vain."- Hyunjin starts and you just stare at him, waiting for him to start explaining.

He sighs, still holding you close.

"He's a powerful dark fairy. He used to be on the light side but he started using dark magic and became tainted. He practiced a lot of it so it made him very strong, so strong that he can snap your neck in a matter of miliseconds without even touching you. Everyone here fears him, there's a whole part in the woods that none of us go near to because we think he lives there."

"Okay, that is scary but what do I have to do with him? I'm just an insignificant human."- you wipe your tears as Hyunjin hands you a handkerchief so you can blow your nose.

"He lured you in here. He brought you to this realm by hypnotizing you with his voice, I've no idea what he wants to do with you but obviously you're not just an insignificant human if he has tried to take you."- the sylph reveals.

"I- I don't know what to say."- you try to process all the information Hyunjin just gave to you.

"Maybe you should go back to sleep. I'll make some food for you when you wake up and then we can leave if you want. But you're welcome to stay here with me, if that's okay with you. I actually kinda like having you here."- Hyunjin admits, his face becoming red and the scent of flowers floods your nostrils.

"I don't know what I want. I'm confused and scared."- you admit.

"Don't be scared, I'll take care of you."- the sylph leans in and kisses your forehead before he lays you down. "Shh, go to sleep."- he adds as you try to talk, only for his hands to move above your face and make you fall asleep instantly.

Deeper in the forest, where darkness resides at all times, not even the moonlight illuminates the path between the thick bushes and big branches that lean menacingly towards the ground, a dark creature's anger builds.

He can't find the object of his affection, the only thing he knows is that the sylph took you and probably protected you from the influence of his dark magic.

Even the most powerful spells didn't work in his favor, resulting in rage coursing through the creature's veins like poison. His power grows and feeds on his hatred, his hands lifting up to levitate any object in front of his eyes, smashing them into the wall as he growls loudly, his screams of anger echoing inside his lair.

He even lifts his bed and table, easily snapping them in half with just one movement of his hand as if they were mere twigs.

He has to find the sylph and show the sparkly creature exactly what happens when you mess with the darkness itself.

You're still half asleep when you feel Hyunjin's hard member pressed into your ass as he ruts against you.

"H-hey!"- you gasp, about to turn around but his arms wrap around you.

"I'm sorry, I'm just feeling so hot again. I need you."- he whimpers into your ear before his lips travel down to your neck, he leaves sweet kisses on your skin as he slides the sheet off of you.

"Hyunjin."- you whine as he adjusts your leg and the tip of his cock presses against your wet pussy.

"Please let me put it in."- he whimpers as he bites down on your neck, sliding his cock against your entrance.

"F-fine."- you whimper when he squeezes your breast.

Hyunjin inhales sharply as he slowly pushes in, the angle doesn't let him to completely bury himself inside you but he's satisified to be holding you flush against his body as he slowly rocks into you.

You moan quietly as he plays with your breasts and keeps kissing you everywhere his lips can reach, trying to push his cock into your heat as much as he could.

"Y/n?"- he noses your cheek and you turn to look at him.

"W-would you consider staying here with me?"- he asks, his eyes big and hopeful.

"W-what? You really want me to stay here?"- you're taken aback as his arms wrap around you more tightly.

"Yeah. I can teach you my language and traditions. I can show you how to make art like mine. I can teach you simple spells and how to work with gems."- Hyunjin looks excited suddenly, forgetting to push his hips into you as you involuntarily clench around him.

"That- Why do you want to do all that?"- you swallow.

"I never thought I'd say this to a human or anyone for that matter, but I'm falling in love with you."- he says and the sweet scent of flowers is almost unbearable.

"You don't mean that. You're in heat and you're not thinking straight, it's your physical need to mate and when that passes, you will feel how you felt about me before."- your lips tremble.

"That is not true! I knew I liked you even before, I just didn't want to get myself into anything with a human. But now, I can't hold back anymore and I don't want to, not after I've had you like this."- he holds you tight.

"Yes, that's it. I'm just a human. We can't mate or anything. We don't even belong to the same realm. I need to- I need to go back home..."

"I don't want to mate, or have actual offspring. If I wanted a mate, don't you think I'd have one by now? I only want to spend my time with you. I'd give you anything you need, you would never be unhappy. And he could never harm you if you just stayed here. This could be your home, darling. You don't even remember where home is, don't you? You don't remember anything but being here with me."

"D-did you do that on purpose?"- your eyes water. "Did you make me forget on purpose just so you can keep me here?"

"That is not in the range of my powers and I would never do that. You fulfilled your purpose, so to say. I can take you home any time you want. It's your choice. I'm just telling you that I would be very happy if you stayed here with me."- he leaves kisses on your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you as you keep becoming wetter around him.

"I- I don't know anymore. I don't know anything."

"Let me help you decide."- Hyunjin smirks as he grips your hips and pushes you down on your stomach, his length slipping back inside you but this time he pushes in further, determined to fill you up completely and make you drunk on his cock.

"Ah!"- you whimper as you take it, your pussy sucking him in perfectly.

"Fuck, you were made to take me!"- Hyunjin groans as he grips the soft flesh on your ass and starts thrusting into you.

"Ah, ah, ah!"- you keep moaning, your mind cloudy as he fills you up so perfectly, your nails digging into his bed, your aroused nipples constantly rubbing on the soft fabric beneath you.

One of Hyunjin's hands sneaks around you and between your legs to play with your clit, the other hand still on your ass lifts up and he spanks you harshly.

You jolt and whimper loudly, your pussy clenching so tight around his pulsating cock that it almost hurts him.

"You like that?"- he smirks and spanks you hard again, the sound echoing in the room.

You moan and try to look at Hyunjin, he's all sweaty, sparkly and perfect, smelling so nice, loving you so good, his pretty wings framing his hot body.

He's like a dream and you're afraid to wake up.

Maybe you don't wanna go home.

Maybe this is your home, right next to him.

With that thought as he keeps fucking his length into you, his hand stinging your flesh, his fingers quick on your clit, you explode, cumming and squirting around him, making him even more wet and slippery inside you.

"Ah, fuck darling! Gonna breed you so good."- he whines, gripping your hips and fucking into you with erratic thrusts.

You keep moaning loudly, holding onto the sheets like it's your lifeline as he pistons into you harshly.

"Fuck! Y/n!"- Hyunjin groans as he cums hard, filling you up with so much hot liquid that in that moment you think he might actually get you pregnant even though you know it's impossible.

Hyunjin rides out his high before leaning down to kiss your shoulder and cheek.

He slowly pulls out of you, and you feel his cum gushing out of your fucked out pussy. Hyunjin can't help himself as he leans down and licks at you, making you whimper.

"What are you-"

"Wanted to taste you."- he kisses your supple flesh before lifting up. "I'll be right back."

Your mind is swirling as you're still coming down from your high, thinking about everything Hyunjin had said earlier.

You don't even register him coming back and cleaning you up.

"Are you okay?"- he asks as he carefully turns you around.

"I don't know what I am. I don't remember anything anymore, just feelings and fleeting moments. I barely remember my name, if you didn't keep repeating it maybe I'd forget that too."

Hyunjin's heart squeezes.

"Alright. I understand. You want to go back home, remember your life."- his jaw tenses. "I will make you some food now. And then we can get ready to leave."

"O-okay."- you nod, not even sure what you want anymore, tears pricking at your eyes as Hyunjin swiftly turns around and disappears from your eyesight.

-

Preparing for your journey back to the portal that will take you home took a longer time than you thought it would.

Hyunjin packed a lot of different potions and protective gems, food and water, and even some blankets to sleep in.

It took a few days to actually even step out of his house, the desire and passion that built up between the two of you was making it hard to part.

A big part of you wanted to stay by Hyunjin's side, but something inside you was nagging you to go home.

"Oh, wow."- you gasp as Hyunjin and you start making your way through the forest, the part where he lives is unlike anything you've ever seen, it looks like it came straight out of fairytales you used to read when you were little.

There are other houses like his around, so many gardens and magical flowers that emit some kind of light, making everything seem even more alive and bright than it already is.

Other sylphs are levitating around, greeting the two of you as you pass them by.

"Do they know who I am?"- you ask quietly.

"Yes, they know I've been keeping you safe."- Hyunjin nods.

"It's not the first time that we help out humans. It's my first time though."- he adds as he smiles at you.

"Another first. I should feel honored again, right?"- you chuckle.

"Of course."- he smirks at you as he leads you down the beaten path.

The first part of the journey is calm, the sights around you are beautiful and inspirational, making you feel somewhat nostalgic that you're leaving it all behind.

But as the sun keeps falling lower and the night draws in closer, you leave the safest part of the forest where only the sylphs, pixies and faeries reside.

It's getting darker and colder with every step you take, and in his lair, the dark creature can smell you.

A loud cackle escapes his lips, before it turns into a mad sinister laugh. It worked. His spell finally worked and managed to lure you out.

Unfortunately, he could also smell the sylph's flowery scent that makes the creature gag, but he doesn't worry because he knows; as soon as you step into the darkest part of the forest, he will easily get rid of the helpless little sylph and finally have you all to himself.

"This is a good resting point."- Hyunjin points to a spot between two trees that seem to be shielding it with the way they lean towards each other, their branches entagled together.

"Yeah."- you nod, exhaustion is taking over you as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness.

Hyunjin's wings give enough light to see where you're stepping and he leads you to the spot, levitating around while he creates a makeshift bed out of the blankets he brought.

"Lay down, my darling."- he gently tucks you in, a fond smile on his face.

"W-what about you?"- you ask sleepily.

"Sylphs can be awake for days, so don't worry. I will be on guard while you rest."- he gently caresses your face.

"Okay."- you nod, falling asleep in an instant.

-

Commotion wakes you up with a jolt, your eyes wide as you sit up abruptly.

You hear sounds of a struggle before your eyes can even make sense of anything, a flurry of lights moving quickly in front of you, creating wind that picks leaves and branches up off the ground, messes up your hair and makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

"Hyunjin?!"- you panic, trying to understand what it is you're looking at.

You hear creepy grunts on your left and you quickly turn towards the source of the sounds and see a little creature so ugly, with big dark eyes, huge pointy nose, sharp and menacing teeth.

For it being so small, it's hands are big, ending with huge claws at the end of it's fingers.

At first, you can't even move or utter a sound as it comes closer to you, lifting it's hands up threateningly with a sinister smile. Fear traps you in place and all you can do is look at the danger that's about to rip your flesh to pieces.

Finally, you let out a shriek as it comes near you, the stench of it making it's way to your nostrils and making you gag.

You shield your face with your arms, leaning away from the monster as you await to feel it's sharp nails digging into your skin.

But, all you can hear is a quick zap and a squeak, and you feel the smell of something burning before gentle hands are placed on your shoulders.

You flinch in fear, tears streaming down your cheeks, but it's Hyunjin's soothing voice that brings you out of the state of utter terror.

"Hey, hey, it's okay y/n. It's just me."- he caresses you gently.

You slowly open your eyes and gasp when you see the cuts and bruises on his skin.

"W-what happened?"- you ask.

"We were attacked by goblins. Don't worry, I managed to fight them off. For now, at least. We're coming up to the most dangerous part of the forest. Where he lives. But I won't let anything hurt you, okay?"- Hyunjin promises.

"You're hurt."- you say, tears still making their way down your cheeks.

"It's okay, I brought a lot of healing potions."

"I'm scared."- you sniffle and Hyunjin wraps his arms around you, bringing you into his embrace.

"Me too. But I will do everything that's in my power to get you back home safely."- he says, his soft lips kissing your skin and catching your falling tears.

You look at him and he melts, leaning in to kiss you as he can't help himself.

"Please don't."- you move away after a moment. "It's going to be harder to leave."

"I know."- Hyunjin smiles sadly. "You know we can still turn around and go back to my home where it's safe."

"I-I can't, Hyunjin. I don't know why but I need to get to that portal."

He suspects that your need to leave is actually the dark fairy's spell, and he knew from the beginning that the dark creature would get what he wanted, because there was no way Hyunjin could fight him.

But he had hope that you would be strong enough to resist the spell and stay with him, that he could somehow keep you safe and make his home yours too.

The sylph knows that the dark fairy is much more powerful than he is and there's no way he won't try to take you as soon as you enter the deepest part of the forest, but Hyunjin feels okay with inevitably dying by the bloodied hands of the monster if he manages to somehow keep you safe.

As you fall asleep again, Hyunjin holds you in his arms the whole night, his hands gently caressing your face as he looks at you fondly, wishing you would just come back home with him, but he knows it wouldn't be right to make you do anything against your will.

-

Even with the arrival of morning, the sun never manages to shine the path you're walking on.

The forest is too thick, enveloped in perpetual darkness, danger lurking around every corner.

You can hear all sorts of creatures scurrying around in the shadows, red eyes hidden in the bushes following your movements as you clutch onto Hyunjin's arm.

You don't speak, there's a lump in your throat as your wide eyes survey the place, your fingers digging into the sylph's smooth skin any time something frightens you.

"Shh, it's okay."- he tries to convince you but he knows he's leading you straight to the danger and himself right into a death trap.

As you near the almost complete darkness, everything becomes eerily still and quiet, so much so that you hear your heart beating inside your ears.

"We need to be extra careful."- Hyunjin whispers into your ear as you shiver and keep holding onto him.

You've never seen a place so dead, so silent, and the fear inside you creeps up your spine, to the back of your neck, lifting the hairs on your skin.

A heavy feeling weighs on your chest as it becomes harder to breathe, and you look up at Hyunjin's face to see that he looks frightened too.

"He's here."- Hyunjin swallows, the color draining from his face as the two of you hear a chuckle echo between the trees.

"At last, we meet. Sylph. You've something that belongs to me."- a deep voice talks calmly, a smirk evident in it and you keep turning to try and see where the creature is but you can't see anything except darkness.

"She doesn't belong to you! You can't take her!"- Hyunjin raises his voice but you can hear how it trembles.

The dark creature can smell the fear and it makes him excited as he laughs loudly, the deep laughter making your heart beat even faster.

"I can take whoever I want."- the creature says and a dark mist starts swirling in front of you, almost blowing you back from the speed of the swirling before he finally appears in front of you.

You gasp as you look at him, you were expecting an ugly monster, somewhat similar to the goblins but even bigger and scarier.

But what stands before you is a beautiful man with raven dark hair, his facial features are perfect, his lips look plump and soft, his physique is elegant but strong, the black suit emphasizing the grace he moves with, gliding as his big black wings move slowly.

What scares you the most are his eyes, completely black, like an abyss of nothingness, devoid of any emotions as he stares at you and smirks.

"Come here, little one."- he says and you quickly shake your head in fear, but your legs feel the need to move.

It's like something has gotten a hold on you and is pulling you directly towards him.

"Fight it, y/n!"- Hyunjin begs as he rummages through his stuff and tries to find a protective potion he has made.

You try your hardest to fight it but your legs keep moving towards the dark creature.

"Take this, you monster!"- Hyunjin finally finds the potion and throws the little bottle at the dark fairy's feet.

It explodes, the smoke lifting up but ultimately it did nothing as the creature starts cackling.

"It's funny to see you trying to kill me, little sylph. Try harder."- the creature says as you still struggle, falling down to your knees and trying to hold onto the ground, tears gathering in your eyes.

Hyunjin knows there's no way he can kill the creature but he tries again, chanting the strongest protection spell that exists, holding a black obsidian stone in his hand.

The dark fairy laughs again, the stone breaking into thousand little pieces and Hyunjin gasps as he looks at his open palm.

"I've had enough of these games."- the creature growls and waves his hand in Hyunjin's direction, lifting his body into the air and smashing him into one of the trees.

You scream as Hyunjin's body hits the floor with a thud and he groans in pain, clutching at his stomach.

"Hyunjin!"- you want to run to him but you can't move. "P-please, don't hurt him! Please!"- you look back at the creature who levitates closer to you, the fear inside you growing, threatening to swallow you whole.

His face breaks into an evil smile, sharp teeth showing as he lifts his hand and suddenly you hear Hyunjin gasping for air as the creature chokes him without even laying a hand on him.

"Stop it! Stop! Don't kill him!"- you beg on your knees, trying to grab at the creature but he levitates up, bringing Hyunjin up with him, sliding his back up the tree, his wings shredding to pieces as his eyes widen in pain and he keeps trying to breathe in but he can't.

"Please!"- you cry out.

The creature laughs, releasing Hyunjin and letting his body hit the ground harshly, the sound of bones cracking makes your skin crawl as your head snaps in the direction he fell.

Hyunjin's limp body lays under the tree, thick blood pooling around him like a dark sea that's drowning him and taking him away from you.

"H-Hyunjin..."- you whisper, your chest constricted as you heave for air.

"Forget about the sylph. You don't need him. You only need me, little one."- the dark creature smirks wickedly.

You want to scream at him, cry, hit him, run to Hyunjin but it's like you have an invisible leash around you that pulls you towards the dark fairy as he starts leading you towards his lair.

You try to fight it but you can't, your legs tripping over branches as they take you further away from Hyunjin's lifeless body, as if they have a mind of their own.

When you finally enter the lair, huge wooden doors close with a loud bang, making the entire room shake as you fall down to your knees.

The creature looks at you with a wide smile on his face.

"Finally."- he exhales. "Finally, you're exactly where you belong, my little sweetheart."

"D-don't come near me!"- you shriek, falling backwards on your butt as your back hits the wall.

The creature floats towards you, his hand lifting up, and you flinch, waiting to feel some kind of pain he'd inflict on you.

"I won't hurt you."- he says and you can feel a soft caress on your cheek even though he's not directly touching you.

"You killed Hyunjin, you monster!"- you scream out and the creature growls angrily, his hand lifting up a chair that was on your right, smashing it into the wall.

You shield yourself with your arms, a whimper coming out of your mouth.

"Don't say that sylph's name anymore! He got what he deserved, though I think I should've made him suffer more. I should've ripped him up to pieces before killing him. I held back only because of you, my sweet."- he says.

"Wow, thank you."- you say sarcastically. "What the fuck do you want from me? If you want to kill me, just do it already. I'm just a human anyways, I can't possibly fight back. Just end it now."- fresh tears start falling out of your eyes.

"Don't say that! You're supposed to want to stay with me!"- the dark fairy clenches his fists in anger. "We will get there. As soon as I get you all under my spell."

"Why me?"- you ask desperately.

"Because I've been in love with you my whole life. Even when I was just a fairy. But you didn't notice me. I tried everything, I sang to you and called to you, I was the river, the tree, the sunlight. But you ignored every call of mine and I knew that white magic would never help me get to you so that is why I became like this. I have no soul now but still I crave you. So, you owe me in a way, I made myself evil just to get to you. You owe me."- the creature repeats lowly.

"I don't owe you anything! That was your choice to go to the dark side."- you protest.

"I did it because of you!"- he gets angry again, lifting his hand up in your direction.

You jolt but he doesn't touch you, he lifts up the necklace Hyunjin clasped around your neck for protection and smashes it into pieces.

"You don't need this anymore. I'll make you forget him. I'll make you forget everything."- he smirks as you cry quietly. "You should only remember one thing."

"W-what?"- you whimper.

"My name. Felix. It's the only thing you'll come to know."- the dark fairy cackles deeply as he turns around and closes you into the little room.

All the fear and pain clutching onto your being turn into exhaustion and you fall asleep on the floor, feeling abandoned and terrified.

-

You wake up on the bed, with Felix hovering near you and when you realize you're not with Hyunjin anymore and that he's probably dead, your eyes water instantly.

"Shh, don't cry."- the dark creature appears before you, holding something in his hands.

"P-please."- you scoot as far away as you can from him.

"It's okay. I have something for you."- he shows you a cup full of some weird black liquid.

"What is that?"- you hiccup.

"You have to drink it."- he says.

"No."- you shake your head quickly. "I'm not taking anything from you. I want to die."

"Don't talk like that!"- Felix almost gets angry again, trying to calm down so he can have better control over his powers. "You're going to drink it."

"No, I won't!"- you cross your arms over your chest.

Felix is swift as he corners you, his hand gripping your chin and you gasp as your eyes widen in fear.

"Don't make me break your jaw."- he threatens lowly and as you stare into his completely black eyes, you know he's not joking around and you have no choice but to do as he says.

You let him bring the cup to your lips and you drink, almost throwing up at the disgusting taste but Felix makes you drink it all.

You cough when he moves his hand away, grabbing at your throat as you feel a slight burn.

"W-what did you give me?"- you whimper.

"It's a concoction to protect you from good magic. No one will take you away from me, not even yourself."- he says, before his hand grabs yours.

Before you can pull away, he starts chanting, his voice getting deeper and deeper the more he speaks, shivers run through your body but you can't move away from him.

You feel something building up inside you, something dark and heavy, akin to when the sylph held your hand and chanted too.

The sylph. What was his name again?

You couldn't remember. You remember his shiny wings, his pretty face, his touches and kisses but suddenly you can't remember his name.

Hot tears slide down your cheeks as the darkness keeps growing inside you, swallowing your insides, poisoning you with thoughts only of Felix.

"There, there."- your eyelids feel droopy as Felix lays you down. "You'll be okay, little one. Sleep now and we will continue tomorrow."

Day by day, the creature keeps pouring darkness into you, and you cannot fight it, your soul keeps becoming more and more tainted, shrinking and leaving a gaping hole inside you.

Your mind is slowly becoming blank, like a clean slate that he can mould however he wants.

You can't remember anything anymore, not even your name, only snippets of the forest, some kind of fighting, some kind of humming and glinting.

But it's all meaningless, the only thing that's clear in your mind is Felix.

-

"Come here, little one."- Felix beckons you, his hands patting his thighs and you follow mindlessly, sitting down in his lap.

"Tell me, do you like the dress I made for you?"- he asks, his hands on your waist, caressing the black lace that adorns you.

"Yes, Felix. I love it."- you nod and he gives you a smirk.

"I knew you'd like it, but I feel like you would look even better without the dress, what do you say?"

"Whatever you want, Felix."- you look at him, your reflection seemingly small in his big black eyes.

"I want you to let me kiss you."- his lips are closer to yours now, his breath hitting your face.

"Okay."- your eyes close as you wait for him to claim you.

His plump lips press on yours and move gently, contrast to all the anger you witnessed from the creature and you surrender into the kiss as he wraps one arm around your waist and the other tangles in your hair.

Felix nibbles on your lip as his hand slides down to grip your ass and massage it, your lips part as you whimper and he takes that chance to slide his tongue inside, dominating yours as he tastes you.

A little part inside you wants to pull away because deep inside you know he's a monster, he's pure evil, he influenced your mind to obey him with magic but the darkness he fed to you overpowers anything else inside you and you comply when he pulls your head back and starts kissing your neck.

"I've waited so long to have you."- he mumbles against your skin, his wet lips dragging on your sensitive skin, biting into the soft flesh to mark you.

"You'll give yourself to me, won't you sweetheart?"- he whispers sweetly and you can't say no.

"Yes, Felix."- you moan as he grips your thighs.

His hands slide up as he smirks and grabs your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples, making you squirm in his lap as you get more aroused with every touch.

You feel his bulge under you growing and you gasp as he presses against you, the hotness between your bodies pulling you in closer to him as you grab onto his shoulders and grind your wet cunt against him.

"My little sweetheart is so eager, hm?"- Felix chuckles, pushing up into you.

"Mm, yes."- you moan as he licks at your collarbone.

"I need you to do something for me before I give you what you need the most."- his deep voice rings in your ear.

"Anything."- you say, like you're hypnotized.

"Get on your knees for me, my sweet."- he commands and you obey without questions, kneeling between his spread legs.

The way you look up at him patiently and innocently, waiting for him to give you his next command almost makes him crumble.

He chuckles lowly as he slides his pants down, his huge cock almost smacking you in the face.

You gasp as you look at it, you don't think you can even take all of it and a pout forms on your face.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"- his hand cups your cheek, thumb rubbing your skin gently.

"It's so b-big."- your lips tremble.

"I know."- he smirks. "It's gonna feel good when I put it inside you, don't worry. Just taste it a little bit, okay?"

"Okay."- you nod, leaning in to give his swollen head a few kitten licks.

"Good sweetheart. Come on, put your pretty lips around it."

You obey, lips wrapping around him as you suck lightly, his pre-cum sliding down on your tongue, spurring you on to take more.

Felix groans at the way your lips stretch around him and the way you keep trying to take more in, even though you physically can't.

"It's okay."- he says as he pats your head, hearing you whine in frustration around him.

"That's enough."- he says and you slide off of him with a pop, a string of saliva connecting you to his member.

"Lay on the bed for me."- he says and you walk towards the bed, stripping out of your dress and laying down naked.

Felix follows you, stripping teasingly as you stare up at him and salivate at the sight of his body.

"Spread your legs."- he smirks as he kneels on the bed and you do as he says.

He scoots closer to you, gripping your legs and moving them up so your knees press onto your shoulders.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good, my sweet."

"I-is it gonna hurt?"- you swallow the saliva that gathered in your mouth.

"Just a little bit. But, I already prepared you with my potions and spells. You'll feel satisified like you've never felt in your life."- he chuckles, grabbing his heavy cock and sliding the head on your wet folds.

You almost missed how wet you got, and you moan when you feel him pressing against your little entrance, making it stretch around the head.

"F-Felix!"- you whimper as the tip breaches in, and your hand looks for his.

He grabs your hand, holding it tightly, his other hand playing with your breast as he slowly pushes his thick, long, veiny cock inside you, making you almost black out from the pleasure the big stretch is giving you.

"Mm, so big! S-so full."- you whimper as he keeps filling you up so much that you have no clue how you're even fitting him inside you and you don't care because he feels so good, so perfect and hot inside your little hole that you feel hypnotized.

Felix can smell the sylph inside you, he knows that he fucked you and anger builds inside him at the thought of that weak whiny sparkly creature having you before he ever did.

His hands grip your thighs as he presses you harder into the bed, pushing the rest of his cock inside you harshly, his heavy balls resting on your ass.

"Ah!"- you whimper, pleasure coursing through your veins and overtaking you as you completely give into the creature, the feeling of being powerless under him makes you equally scared and aroused.

Felix doesn't waste any more time as he start dragging his heavy cock inside you, slamming down onto you and you moan loudly, holding onto the sheets as he fucks you like he's feral.

It's supposed to hurt, in your logical mind you know that, but it's the exact opposite.

The faster and harder he splits your cunt open, the wetter you get, feeling more and more pleasure building up inside you, feeling your body becoming pliant to him, ready to take all of him any time he wants that.

"Finally, my sweet. You're doing so good for me, such a warm and tight hole for my cock."- the dark fairy smirks at you, his black eyes boring into your soul as your breath gets taken away.

You gasp for air as he fucks you with such strength that the bed breaks beneath you, your eyes water and your nails dig into the skin of his biceps right as you cum, harder than ever in your life, squirting around his pulsating cock.

"Mm, so beautiful when you cum for me."- he smirks, fucking you even harder and you can't speak, you can only whimper and moan as he keeps fucking you tirelessly, changing positions a few times, taking out orgasm after orgasm out of you.

"P-please."- you can't take any more, your pussy throbs with sensitivity as he fucks you from behind, the angle making him bury his big cock even deeper inside you, the bulge in your tummy evident.

"Shh."- Felix shushes you as he grabs the supple flesh of your ass, his hips fucking into you three more times before he finally cums, ropes of it keep filling you up endlessly as he groans lowly behind you, leaning down to bite on your shoulder while he rides his high.

"You did so good for me. Took me so well. Feels good?"- he asks, gently caressing your hair.

"Y-yes."- you whimper meekly.

"See, I told you that you'd feel satisfied."- he slowly pulls out, his cum gushing out of you and as he turns you to lay on your back, his spent cock twitches at the sight of your fucked out pussy oozing out his cum.

Felix can't help himself as he leans in, his hands on your inner thighs and he buries his face inside you and starts eating you out hungrily, tasting his cum mixed with yours.

There is no trace of the flowery taste of the sylph and he smirks to himself as you tremble from overstimulation.

"P-please, a break."- you beg and he lifts up.

"I'll give you a break. But, you should get used to this from now on."- Felix smirks as he tucks you in, you're already half asleep as you look up at him.

Your lips part to speak but he shushes you.

"Sleep, my sweet."

After the blood had almost drowned Hyunjin, miraculously his eyes opened, he took a deep breath in and then coughed out more blood.

His whole body throbbed in pain like he never felt before and he knew in that moment that he couldn't fly or walk.

His wings were torn to shreds, skin and flesh ripped on his back, his legs were broken but somehow he survived.

Before he could even assess the extent of the damage, you appeared in his mind.

Your absolutely terrified expression, your tears flowing like a river, your whole body trembling as you fought not to follow the dark fairy but you had no choice as his spells were strong and his influence on you had you in his grip.

The usually peaceful sylph, only fighting when it'a out of self-defense, felt rage unlike ever before bubble up inside him.

Despite the horrible pain burning him on the inside and out, the amount of blood he lost, Hyunjin crawled into the nearest cave, the rage helping him kill a goblin with his bare hands, snapping the neck of the creature and tearing its limbs apart.

He spent days, weeks, months healing and getting stronger, as he found solace in the darkness, his once pure soul turning more and more tainted as he practiced the darkest forbidden magic he could find, conjuring up all sorts of apparitions to teach him their black magic, in turn telling them all the secret places his sylph, pixie and fairy friends lived.

The apparitions would smile from ear to ear, big sharp teeth happy to devour all the unsuspecting light beings, tear them to shreds, destroy their homes and spread their darkness in every corner they could find, their bellies full of hunger for chaos and death.

Hyunjin knew what he was doing was pure evil, and he knew there was no going back from that, as he woke up one morning with horrible pain in his back that had him screaming in the cave, his shrieks echoing off the walls and into the forest, scaring even the goblins and other evil critters away.

Big black wings covered in thick blood sprouted violently from his back, tearing through his skin as he wailed.

His eyes filled with darkness, becoming completely black like a void of nothingness.

His anger made him lift up his hands, as the whole cave started shaking, the stones started cracking, the loud rumble almost causing an earthquake as the cave finally turned into dust.

Hyunjin emerged from it, his big wings lifting him up as a wicked smile danced on his lips.

There is only one thing in his mind now.

Saving you from the clutch of Felix and killing the dark fairy with his bare hands, making him suffer like he did to him and you.

-

Your days became a blur, you didn't even feel like a person anymore, you had no idea who you were, what your name was, how you came to be.

All you knew is that your purpose was to serve Felix so that is what you did.

Whatever he ordered, you would obey, becoming a shell of a human being, just existing to please the dark creature who had underestimated one thing.

He underestimated the very thing that brought him to the state he's in now, the pure infatuation he had with you, the love that turned completely dark.

He had forgotten what love is, forgotten that that's what Hyunjin felt for you and what made him strong, stronger than Felix in his intention to seek revenge.

So, that day as Felix was working on some potions and you patiently sat beside him, waiting for him to tell you what to do, the front door was flung open from the hinges, smashing into the wall in front of it, the pieces of wood exploding all over the place.

Both of you jolted, looking towards the door and in the dust of the explosion, Hyunjin glided in with rage that was almost palpable as he breathed deeply.

You gasped, recognizing him instantly, even with the darkness around him, even with his eyes black as the abyss, black as your captor's eyes.

"Hyu- Hyunjin?"- something broke inside you, tears bursting out of your eyes immediately.

Felix growled as he stood up, shielding you with his wings.

"I thought I killed you, sylph."- he said angrily.

"You thought wrong. You're the one that's going to die."- Hyunjin's voice was unrecognizable, it wasn't the sweet voice that used to sing beatiful melodies to you or the cute giggle that would leave his lips whenever you said something silly.

No, this voice was deep and dark, almost scratchy, the complete opposite of the Hyunjin you knew.

"Hah!"- Felix scoffs. "I'd like to see you try, sylph. I've been doing this a lot longer than you."

"Goodbye, Felix."- Hyunjin smirks and before Felix can even react, Hyunjin lifts his hands up, lifting Felix together with them.

Felix growls, trying to fight back but as soon as he tries to send anything towards Hyunjin, the sylph catches it and throws it back into him, a gust of strong icy wind cutting at Felix's skin and smacking his body into the wall.

You sob on the side, scared and confused as everything slowly comes back to you and there is nothing you can do as you watch your once harmless and sweet Hyunjin waving Felix's body around and smashing him into any surface he comes across like he was a mere ragdoll.

You scoot into the corner of the wall, hugging your knees to your chest as Hyunjin glows red with rage, maiming Felix's already broken body and you close your eyes, your hands pressed on your ears.

Felix chokes on the blood that's bubbling up in his throat and he takes a few last breaths, his black eyes trained on you as he smiles, he at least had you for some time and he can die happy now.

And with that thought, Hyunjin flungs him into the wall one last time, cracking his skull and Felix's lifeless body slides down onto the floor with a loud thud.

In the deafening silence, your sobs are the only thing that fill it up with sound.

Hyunjin knows he's done a horrible thing but he also knows that there is a part of his soul that hasn't died yet, and before that happens, he needs to get you far away from everything that causes you harm.

"Y/n?"- he comes closer to you and you finally look up at him.

"What did you do to yourself, Hyunjin?"- you cry, your heart breaking at the sight of him.

His hair was now completely black like his eyes, his skin pale, black veins painted all around on his face, neck and arms, dark bloodied wings behind him.

"I'm sorry."- he cries, a thick black tear slides down his cheek. "I'm sorry."- he repeats as he comes closer to you, gently grabbing your face.

"I thought you died."- you say, your hands coming up to cover his.

"I thought I was dead too. But, somehow I survived. I had to save you. This was the only way. I can't go back though, I'm sorry y/n but I've done so many evil things. I killed with my bare hands and my teeth. I sent evil beings after all my friends, I got them all slaughtered violently, they're all dead because of me. I- I betrayed my own kind. I have so much blood on my hands now, I'm surprised I even have a little part of my soul left. That's probably only because of you. But, it's just a question of time before I lose that too and hurt you. And I can't bear to think about that so now I will take you to the portal and you will go home and forget about all this."- Hyunjin explains and you start crying again.

"B-but I don't want to forget you."- you grab at him and Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, the embrace that was once warm, now became cold.

"I know. But I'm not the same person anymore. Don't worry, when you go through the portal, you will remember your life and forget about me and that..."- Hyunjin looks at Felix's limp body on the floor. "Everything he did to you or made you do. You'll be okay."

"Hyunjin... I love you."- you cry and he clutches onto you.

"I love you too, darling."- he holds you tighter. "But we must leave now."- he lifts you up in his arms, flying you both out of your prison and towards the portal.

You hold onto him the whole way there, crying and soaking up his clothes with your tears.

What's left of his heart breaks when the portal comes into view.

"What's gonna happen to you?"- you look at the portal then back to Hyunjin.

"I will probably dissipate into the darkness at one point."- he says and you cry harder as you grab at him.

"It's okay. I'm okay with it as long as you're safe."- he smiles, sharp teeth revealed as he looks at you with those eyes full of blankness, making you shiver.

"I'm sorry, Hyunjin. I should've listened to you and stayed at your home. None of this would've happened. It's my fault that you're like this now."

"No."- Hyunjin quickly shakes his head. "I chose to do this to myself so I can save you. Don't worry about it anymore. It's not your fault, okay?"

He pulls you into his chest before you can answer as he gently caresses your head. His hands clasp something around your neck and you gasp leaning back and looking down.

"It's black obisidian. I hope you'll wear it on the other side so I'm always with you even though you won't remember."- Hyunjin smiles sadly and your eyes water again.

He leans in and kisses you one last time before he pulls away and pushes your body through the portal.

You gasp as he disappears out of your sight, together with the forest and everything that happened for the last ten years you've been gone in the real world.

Your back hits the concrete and you hear someone yell out, asking if you're okay but you're too exhausted, your head lolling to the side as your eyes close.

-

Nobody could understand how you could be gone for ten years and still be the same age you were when you disappeared.

You didn't understand it either. You had no idea where you were for the last ten years.

It drove you insane as you thought about it every single day, wondering if aliens abducted you or something of that sort since you couldn't remember even a small fraction of a memory.

All you knew is that you had a black obsidian necklace around your neck, never taking it off, it felt warm and familiar and reminded you of someone but you had no clue who that someone was.

Your wandering thoughts made you go back to the forest, where you always found comfort ever since you were a kid.

Each time you'd walk on the familiar path, in the darkest corners of the thick bushes, you'd feel a presence lurking, but it never scared you as the leaves seemed to whisper and say;

"Hello darling."

“Are you seriously going to be pissed off at me over this?” Changbins orotund voice boomed through the car. Chan glanced over at him as he drove down the empty highway, Minho, Jeongin, and Hyunjin were silent in the back seat. “You’re the one that gave me the advice to tell her how I was feeling. So yes, I’m very pissed off at you.”

Sulky Changbin pouted as he looked out the passenger side window. “Well I didn’t tell you to scare the girl off. That’s all on you.” Jeongin was annoyed by their petty bickering. “Can you two stop for once? We are here to do a job. So can you kindly shut the fuck up. Deal with your women problems later.”

“Yeah I’m kind of sick of it too.” Hyunjin chimed in. Chan looked in the rearview mirror, “Your one to talk.” A muscle twitched in Hyunjins jaw and he sat back staying silent the rest of the ride.

It didn’t take long for the men to arrive at their destination. Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Minho got out of the back and rushed to three different cars all parked on the street. They had been in the business of jacking cars for a while now. Selling the entire vehicle or for parts at the auto shop that Felix and Jisung ran. They also sold some high end drugs on the side to Chan’s father’s acquaintances.

Chan and Changbin waited to make sure the guys got into the cars safely without any trouble or cops showing up before they left. Jeongin and Minho were the first to leave, following Chan then Hyunjin finally came along. They drove fast, cutting down back ally’s and side streets to avoid people and potential cops.

They all finally made it back to the shop where Felix, Jisung, and Seungmin greeted them. Once the cars were pulled in to the garage and the doors closed Jisung noticed someone was missing, “Where the hell is Hyunjin?”

You sat crossed legged at a bar, a dirty martini in hand. Your black dress fit every curve just right, your hair fell in waives over your shoulders, tattoos on full display. You looked great and you thought if you went out instead of being cooped up in Hyunjins barely lived in apartment that you would also begin to feel great, but all you kept thinking about was Chan.

Why.. why him? I hate him..right? You thought to yourself as you sipped on your drink. While your thoughts had you consumed a man came and sat next to you. “Hello, mind if I sit here?” The man asked. It startled you out of your thoughts and your eyes glanced over at him. He was handsome, tall and thin, dark short hair fell over his forehead a little.

“Why ask when you sat down anyway?” You turned your attention back to your drink, hoping if you didn’t act interested he would go away. The man turned towards you a little more and stuck out his hand, “I’m Jin and you are?” You huffed in annoyance, just wanting to be left alone.

You looked at his out stretched hand then his face, he had a pleasant enough smile, but you were not interested. “Listen, you seem like a nice guy, but I’m not interested in anything you have to offer. So just stop.” As you turned back towards your drink you heard the man begin to laugh softly. “I was just offering my name and someone to talk to. You seem…troubled.”

His gentle words and the fact that someone (even a stranger) was willing to listen to you made you soften just a bit. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe you were just feeling vulnerable, but you began to talk and he listened to it all.

Jin seemed to be a really nice person and he wasn’t over doing it with his flirting. You were actually having a decent time and the best part…. Your mind was not on Chan. Jin raised his hand for the bartenders attention and asked for another beer for him and another dirty martini for you.

The bartender placed your drink in front of you, but as he was placing Jin’s beer on the bar a very familiar looking hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. Your eyes widened then you slowly turned your head to see Chan standing behind you. His dark hair falling across his forehead and his full lips wrapped around the opening of the beer bottle. “What are you doing, man? That wasn’t your drink.”

Chan continued to kill the beer until it was empty and only then did he put the bottle down and aknowledge Jin’s presence. “Well this is my girl, man.” He put an emphasis on the last word then turned his attention to you. “Get up, y/n. Let’s go.” He demanded, but you weren’t having any of it.

You took your time lifting your glass and sipping from it. “Y/n” you heard him growl under his breath. This made you stand up and turn to him, your face inches from his. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Being this close to him made your heart beat faster and your skin prickle.

God.. he was so gorgeous.. especially this close. Those deep brown eyes of his stared angrily into yours, never moving even when you chuckled softly knowing you were pushing every button he had. “You heard her, now leave.” Jin said trying to sound confident and confrontational, but had yet to actually stand up and face Chan.

Chan rolled his eyes in annoyance, “For fucks sake.” He muttered under his breath just before he lifted you up over his shoulder like he had done before. You gasped and struggled just a bit in his hold but, that quickly died down once you two were outside.

Chan shifted you into his arms, cradling you. You looked up at him, the alcohol you had consumed made your head a little dizzy, but you still had your senses. “Where are you taking me? Didn’t I make it clear I don’t want to go with you!” You raised your voice a bit and tried to wiggle out of his grip.

Chan effortlessly held onto you until he reached his car. “Stop!” He harshly said and put you back on your feet, but he still had a grip on one of your arms. “Get in the car, y/n. You don’t have a choice.” Chans voice was low and harsh. His eyes were darker than before and his cheeks were a little red. You got in the car with a pout on your lips, you felt like a child being scolded for being out too late.

You watched as Chan got into the drivers side snd leaned over to buckle your seat belt. His eyes met yours for a moment and they seemed to soften a tiny bit. “I hate you.” The words passed your lips before you could really even think about what you were saying.

Did you truly hate him? You loved the way he fucked you, but you hated him. right? The words ran through your mind the instant you said them.

With those words Chans eyes hardened once again and he settled back in his seat. He started the car and headed in the direction of his house. “Taking me to daddy’s house?” You scoffed and looked out the window. “When are you ever going to grow up, Chan?! Why can’t you just leave me alone!” You let the anger bubble up inside of you.

You wanted to hit him.. to scream at him for making you feel all of these things that you didn’t want to feel.. that you didn’t know how to process. You kept bar-rating him and asking him why he wouldn’t just go away. Chan kept quiet and allowed you to rip into him the entire way back to his home.

You could tell all the while he was growing angrier and angrier, but you didn’t care. You wanted him mad.. maybe then he would leave you be. As Chan pulled up into the driveway you were yelling, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! It’s clear I don’t want you! Why do you keep coming back?! Why, Chan?! Why-“

“Because I’m in love with you!!” Chan yelled over you, turning his eyes to meet yours. They were no longer rage filled, but sad…soft… vulnerable. Silence fell over you both.. it was thick and suffocating. At first you didn’t know what to say. How to response or even react to that. You couldn’t run away this time. So you said the one thing you could think of that would hurt him.

“I don’t love you.. I can’t love anyone, Chan.” You said so calmly, but you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. A muscle twitched in Chan’s jaw as he looked down at his lap for a moment and then he was getting out of the car.

He never once uttered a word as he walked around and opened your door. “What are you doing?” You asked softly. You were calming down from the screaming match you two just had. Chan still said nothing as he reached in and grabbed one of your wrists, pulling you out of the car and lead you into his home.

The moment he shut the large wooden door Chan had you pushed hard up against it. You hit it with a soft grunt as his hands gripped your wrists and held them pressed to the door by your side. His hard body was pressed against yours as well and Chans lips were on you.

Kissing your skin, leaving teeth marks on your exposed neck. Your skin was hot but had chill bumps all over it as he did whatever he pleased and you let him. You were putty in his hands the moment he began to touch you. “You’re so soft..” Chan mumbled as his lips found their way up to your ear, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

You let out a low hum, your body instantly responding to him. Chan let go of your hands and began to tug at your clothes, yanking them off you, piece by piece. Soon you stood in nothing, but your bra and panties. He stepped back and eyed you, “You’re such a bitch.” His words were harsh, but you couldn’t deny them either.

“Take the rest of that off.” He commanded. You hesitated at first, “Are you sure or will you tell me you love me again.” You stepped forward, inches away from him, “Do I make you that weak, Chan?” He cocked his head to the side, his stare making you a bit nervous as the silence seemed to fill the room.

A beautiful smile fell across his full lips as if he were laughing at what you had just said, “That’s cute you call me weak when you’re the one that falls to your knees every time I touch you.” His words pissed you off not because it was a lie, but because you knew just how true they were. “You asshole.” You raised your hand to slap him, but Chan caught your wrist. His eyes boring holes into you.

Suddenly his lips were smashed into yours, hot and urgent. He kissed you as if he could devour you right then and there and you were pressed against that damn door again. You kissed back, your tongue sliding against his. Tangling deliciously together as you kissed. He picked you up and you wrapped your thighs around his waist.

All the while your lips never leaving his. You weren’t sure how he was able to carry you into the kitchen, but you ended up on the cold counter top. He grabbed a fist full of your hair and yanked your head back, you yelped out in shocking pain. “Don’t worry, I’ll never say those fucking words ever again.” Chans words were breathy but very clear.

He pulled you off the counter and ripped your panties off you, leaving you in just your bra. Grabbing your shoulder he spun you around so your bare ass was exposed to him. Pushing you down with his large hand splayed out on your back you felt his lips on your round cheek. He was gently kissing your skin there, licking over his soft bites.

After he had his fill of tasting your skin he slapped the plump mound hard causing you to screach out. You turned your head to look at him, but he grabbed your jaw and made you look ahead of you. “You stay just like that.” His deep voice was raspy.. strained.

You couldn’t see what he was doing, but at some point he had pushed his pants down. You felt Chans cock press against your wet little hole. Instantly he was pressed all the way in. Stretching your walls deliciously. You let out a surprised gasp, not expecting him to enter you so quickly.

Chan wasted no time, he didn’t allow you to adjust to him. He was angry at you and you could tell by the way he was fucking you. Fast and hard thrusts, pushing himself so deep you felt like he was in your lower stomach. He kept fucking you this way, his hands on your shoulders for leverage at first. Pushing deep inside every time. His balls slapping loudly against you along with the smack of his hips hitting your plump ass.

Your pussy was dripping at this point, wet and slick, allowing him to fuck you as rough as he wanted. Chans low moans only turned you on even more. In this moment he could use you as he pleased and you would be happy with it. “Fuck, y/n.. so god damn tight.” You whispered through grunts of pleasure. There was no way you could talk with how fucked out you were right now.

Chan grabbed a fist full of your hair again, yanking hard enough to pull your head back and his other hand was slapping and kneading your ass. “Fucking take my cock” he groaned out. While you were crying out with every hard buck of his hips. Your knees were buckling under you as your orgasm took over unexpectedly.

Chan let go of your hair to wrap his arm around your waist so he could hold you up. He was fucking you dumb, not a single thought going through your mind, his sex was so good. Your muscles trembled as you tightened your smooth, warm walls around his throbbing cock causing Chan to let out a deep unrestrained groan as his body stiffened around you and his hot cum squirted deep inside you.

It took a while for you two to finally come back to your senses. You both spent and panting loudly. You both were covered in sweat, but his heavy body leaning onto yours was oddly comforting. Chan finally pulled out of you leaving you feeling suddenly empty. You managed to turn around using the counter for stability.

You watched as Chan pulled his boxers and pants back up while you stood there shamelessly naked. “This right here.. it will never be anything more than this.” You said as you ran your fingers through your tangled and sweaty hair. Chans eyes dragged up your body until they reached your face, “Never say never, babe.” That soft smile creeping back onto his lips.

You couldn’t help the next sentence that tumbled from your mouth, “I’ll never be your baby.” It took a second and Chans strong hand was gripping your lower jaw, making you look up at him. He leaned in real close and growled, “You’re whatever the fuck I call you, baby.”

Taglist open:

For hundreds of years people have roamed the oceans. From sailors on ships to the deadliest pirates of the seven seas, the treacherous waters have taken many lives, not only to the water itself, but the unknown dangers of what lies beneath its surface.    

Stories of many kinds have stumbled their way out of survivors and drunken deadbeats. What they saw at sea or what they heard from someone else, anything was plausible in this kind of world. If it came from someone’s mouth, it was bound to be true in one or another. No one can ever be careful enough, so it was better to take everything as truth. Even the most ridiculous sounding claims shouldn’t have been taken lightly. 

You were the captain of a large pirate ship named The Corruption. You weren’t the most feared pirate known to man, but you were certainly amongst them. You were the only pirate willing to tread where others never came back from. You had faced the Kraken, not killing it, for your adventure only called to find where it rested to avoid crossing near the area at all costs. You faced several other sea monsters, whether they were larger than three ships or nearly as small as a minnow. In this place, the unknown were considered monsters until proven friendly. You and your crew were one of the reasons the unknown creatures were given names in the first place. 

People often wondered about the name of your ship, The Corruption. As far as anyone knew, you weren’t one looking for a good or quick fuck like anyone else when drunk, stressed, or just plain horny. Anyone who would have ever heard your name knew you were one of the bravest captains in the known lands, but they also knew you weren’t one to hurt. 

You were known for finding creatures but never hurting them. You never forced your crew to walk the plank or make a sacrifice. You were feared for confidence and bravery, not unjust corruption like other pirates. The name of the ship didn’t make sense. How could you, a captain so understanding, sail a ship with an unfit name? Everyone wondered. But you knew. Only you. Only you had the actual mindset to understand why it would be given such a name, and it was simple: Those who sail on it are corrupted by the wonders, those who sail on it live to tell the tales, and thus are corrupted by the truthfulness filled in the sea. They were not killed, they survived intentionally, as long as the captain had any say in it. 

Though there was no reason to fear you, people were still terrified because you were willing to explore what others wouldn’t dare go near. You didn’t take shit from anyone. Your very presence, the kind that was filled with confidence, your willingness to look anyone in the eye, and you could get anyone to tell the truth. You could read a lie from nautical miles away. 

This next voyage of yours was not the most dangerous, but somehow it scared the crew and anyone new willing to sign up. You were on the search for something that was only legend. Nothing proven, no one alive to tell the tale, and it was strictly based on sightings, no real interactions. For years there had been narratives of half fish, half humans swimming by ships quickly, like they were doing their best to not be seen. Oftentimes the quick glimpses made were described as beautiful women, long hair flowing down their backs and breasts out with no cover. The Englishmen called them “mermaids.” 

You wanted to see them for yourself. It was what you did: searched for the tales, or in this case tails, to prove they were real, and if they’re dangerous and how to avoid them. But you questioned why they were so afraid of beautiful maidens that swam along beside them. 

Annoyed by everyone’s lack of commitment, you rounded up your crew and anyone else interested in the voyage. 

“What the hell is wrong with this lily-livered crew? You wanna sail, especially on my ship, you’re gonna get the hell on and go. What happened to me swashbucklers?! You have faced the kraken and you’re all scared to go hunt for half fish half humans? Now, all hands hoay!” 

Your crew didn’t move, barely budged actually, they just blinked at you. Until one man stepped forward and spoke up. 

“Captain, we don’t mean to seem like landlubbers, but rumor has it these mermaids ain’t that friendly. Says they sing with perfect pitch and harmony to lure anyone to their deaths, then snack on them like we’re a hearty meal. We ain’t wanna die to the hands of lust, ya hear?”

In disbelief by such words and rumors you had to understand it was important to be cautious. This wasn’t the type of journey you could just set sail for, it seemed there were more obstacles. You had to come up with more of a plan than a simple aboard ship and sail off. 

“If these ‘maids are so dangerous then why is it they swim by our ships without going in for a snack, aye?”

Another mate spoke up to answer your question. 

“Captain, it’s been said that they could be related but they ain’t the same creature, savvy? Rumors been calling the ones who sing ‘Sirens’ instead of mermaids. They look the same, but they await on shores singing to lure them whereas mermaids are friendly, helpful fellows.”

“Ya sound like you’re three sheets to the wind. Where’d you hear this scuttlebutt?”

“Came from an old seadog, Captain Rattles, Captain.” 

You thought for a moment. Captain Rattles was one hell of a source, to be honest. He sailed the seas for decades, every warning he ever came about ended up to be true. Never once had he lied to crews and captains. He was a pirate to behold, really. 

“Fine. I’m gonna have a meeting with Rattles to figure out a plan. Then all of you are boarding my ship, or else you’re gonna find yourselves lovers with the hempen halter. Savvy?” 

“Aye aye, Captain!”

And the mates scurried off while you made your way to the old tavern where Rattles always seemed to be. It was time to figure out what you were gonna do with the ole hearties. It was annoying to you though. They were willing to die by a giant octopus and not a pretty girl. Typical pirates looking down on women. 

Later that night you found yourself seated next to Rattles with a notebook to take notes on anything he had to say. 

“I remember encountering them for the first time. We heard a beloved voice and heard it coming from a distance. We saw a mermaid. She turned on her back and swam while her mouth opened. The song came from her. We were all entranced. We followed through a fog until her song became a screech. Her face contorted, and her teeth became sharp fangs. The fog dissipated. Then there was a colony of them. They looked so peaceful in the water, until they all did the same thing. They began to attack. It didn’t help that the ship was smaller. I barely escaped. Only me and two others got out. Everyone else was ripped apart in front of us or dragged into the water where the carnage was hidden. We aren’t sure if there were survivors. We aren’t sure if sirens and mermaids are different or if one makes the other. There are so many things we don’t know, but no one should trust a half fish, half human. It’s not safe. We need someone to figure it out. We need you to figure it out.” 

“I know. I want to. My crew is scared.”

“Come on, Captain. Let’s figure this out.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

That night over drinks the both of you came up with a plan. You and the crew needed to wear cloth in your ears to prevent the sound of songs from working. You needed to stack on weapons, ready to attack back. You all needed to pretend that the song was working. The plan was to sail east off the island. That’s where they accidentally found the cove they named “Libido’s Lounge.” It was noted that there weren’t just women, there were men as well. Even those who didn’t fancy men still fell under the spell, and vice versa.  

A few weeks passed by while you gathered the supplies you all needed for the voyage. It was dangerous, and those who began to board knew that. Even you, the bravest of adventurers, were slightly trembling as you boarded last. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you had a gut feeling this was not going to end well. You wanted to cancel it because you’ve never had a gut feeling like this before, but it was too late. You had to go through with it. 

“Anchors aweigh! Better get your sea legs in quick because we’re in for a ride!”

“Aye aye, Captain!”

The escapade took a few weeks. The bad feeling in your stomach grew worse. Some days you could barely walk, the anxiety crumbling you. Your head had shooting pains that grew worse the closer The Corruption got to Libido’s Lounge. The crew noticed, but they refused to say anything. It's never good to doubt the captain, especially when they’re in this position of danger with no one else to lead them out. 

Dark grew over the horizon as the sun hid itself. The ship continued to sail onwards until a crew member looked over the deck and saw a beautiful face emerge from the water. She smiled at him, and he smiled at her fondly. The way her face was beautifully carved made him feel butterflies, and it wasn’t just the fact that he’d been living off of rum for a while. A crew member next to him noticed his gaze followed towards the girl. He quickly ran towards you to alert you that you’d reached the cove. 

“Alert the crew to get the cloth in their ears, now. Get Barbins over there out of that trance or he’s gonna be feeding the fishes.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Without a second to lose he began to round up the crew one by one to let them know the plan needed to go into full effect now. They plugged their ears with cloth. 

“Hey, Barbins.” The man whispered. 

Irritated, he turned to face him. 

“What is it?”

“Cloth, now. Captain said so. Or you’re gonna be dinner for them.” 

“Gyah, whatever!”

He stuffed his ears quickly before facing the pretty girl again. She smiled, and he smiled back. You noticed this. She began to swim away, and you quickly alerted the crew to follow her. You grabbed a hold of the wheel and spun it to change direction. Through the mist you blindly followed the girl. 

“Oi! Be ready for anything. The second her face turns ugly, start attacking!”

The mist cleared and water grew shallower. There was a clearing filled with the most beautiful faces ever seen. You glared at them as they opened their mouths and began to sing. Through the cloth, all of you could hear the song, but you were hoping it stopped the hypnotic way it enchanted the ears. They all stared at the ship while they harmonized their song. But you couldn’t see any men. Your father had told you there would be men, but there were none here. They were all beautiful girls, you could admit to that. You saw the attraction, and you understood the danger of their beauty. 

You looked to see Barbins jumping off the ship. You were stunned. What was he doing? 

“Man overboard! Start the attack, now!” 

WIth a yell the men began to shoot at the water, and the creatures became angry. Soon they lunged at the ship, managing to grab hold of the crew and dragging them down to the depths. There were way more of them than you had crew, and you knew there’d be more to come. 

Honestly, you lost your depth. Your stomach grew more knots as you watched the bloodshed. There was going to be no survivors by the look of it. Your head felt full and heavy. Your vision became blurry. Your legs felt weak. The epitome of this dreadful feeling somehow worsened when you got to the clearing, and it hurts even more now, like the source of it is getting closer. 

You began to back away from the wheel when you felt yourself hit the back of someone’s chest. You wanted to turn around, but you couldn’t move. Two arms arose to your ears on both sides of your head and pulled the cloth out of them. Then one arm wrapped around your throat and put you in a chokehold while lips quietly sung in your ear. 

“Dead men tell no tales.

Ugly men raid our seas

So we tear their sails

And hear their begging pleas.” 

A mate saw you in danger, so he began to run towards you. The figure who grasped you hissed at him while his eyes shriveled, veins protruded, and fangs threatened. The mate didn’t back down, so the stranger put you down and lunged at him. He quickly sank his fangs into his shoulder and tore a bite right through him. The mate cried before he was pushed overboard. 

You tried to flee in the distraction, but you weren’t fast enough. Furious at your attempt to escape he continued to sing as he stalked towards you. 

“Dead men tell no tales,

But you my sweet 

Are beautiful as my scales

You’ll stick around as my treat.”

He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you toward the ship’s main deck. You were confused by the man’s ability to walk if he seemed to be the same creature as the ones in the water. Your head hurt too much to fully wrap the idea in your brain. Another mate tried to go for the enemy, but he was knocked to the ground. 

“W-what is g-g-going on?” You tried to speak, but you only stuttered the words. 

“My name is Hyunjin, and you attacked my kind. That does not go without punishment.”

He pushed you overboard into the water before diving in right behind you. You swam to the surface as best as you could until you were pulled underwater by Hyunjin. His legs were gone, and they were replaced with an abstract tail. It was a warm brown color with hints of crimson red and golden yellow. Though he was a being that belonged to the sea, his tale resembled fire with its colors and extension fins like that of a betta fish. The colors felt inviting. 

He placed a kiss on your lips which then gave you the ability to breathe without worry. You tried to fight against him, but once he began to sing with his beautiful voice you were lost again. You stared blankly at him as he took your hand and swam away with you, leaving the war to finish itself without guidance. 

Hyunjin swam towards a vacant grotto where he laid your body on a rocky surface. The grotto was his secret hideaway. The only life around it were the fishes and the plants that danced in the water. Hyunjin kept his tail in the water while he laid his arms on the rock staring at your unconscious body. He couldn’t help himself. There was something about you that captivated his attention. Your breathing was calm, you felt lost. You couldn’t think proper thoughts, and you were lost in a void where there was everything and nothing at the same time. 

He wasn’t sure what it was. There was something about the way you lead your ship through the mist, thinking you were being strategic, but he stalked behind the ship the entire time. He grabbed onto the side of the ship, beginning to climb his way onto it and watching the scenes unfold. He noticed you were teetering while you ordered your crew around. He could tell you weren’t entirely there. There was a feeling in his stomach that made him want to help. He felt compelled to aid you. He wasn’t sure if it was your bravery for willingly going where every man fears or if it was because you were the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Even though he was and lived amongst a species that matched the beauty of gods on earth, no one looked as beautiful as you. 

He was supposed to be the one who lured people into his trap. That was what being a siren was about. He wouldn’t sing so beautifully if it wasn’t for that. Even before he was trapped in this cursed body, women would swoon over his artwork. Every woman would look at him lustfully, some of them were quite attractive, but no one was ever able to catch his eye. So, why are you, some pirate trying to kill off his kind, making him feel ways he has never felt before? That wasn’t fair. That defeated the point of all of this! 

He found himself caressing your head softly, staring at the way the water soaked clothes clung to your body accentuating every nook and cranny of it. His body tingled in ways it hadn’t in awhile. Excitement filled his face while he watched you breathe steadily. There was something about the way you were under his spell, under his control, that turned his brain to goo. His mouth began to water, his face felt hot, and his head started to ache at the uncontrollable feeling of wanting to touch you and make you scream his name, but instead of begging for mercy to live you’re begging to have him touch you more and more. The thought alone made him groan. 

You began to wake up from your hypnotic state, stirring slightly, eyes blurry, blinking back to reality only to be met with the high ceilings of a cave and an uncomfortable pain in your back from lying on dirt. Human nature made you want to bolt upright and run, but your pirate nature wanted you to remain calm, find a plan, and escape danger without causing a disaster. You laid there, eyes open, trying to avoid the small sounds of splashing water and the glaring gaze of your captor’s eyes digging into the side of your head attempting to read your thoughts. 

“I know you’re awake, Captain.” He taunts you with your title. “For the Captain of a ship, you’re certainly pretty inferior and weak right now.”

You grunt at his comment, starting to haul yourself up to find a way out of this mess. As you stand, you’re immediately stopped when a blissful tone reaches your ears, and once again, you don’t have control over your own body. You can feel it. You can feel yourself wanting to resist but being unable. Hyunjin speaks.

“Ah ah ah, darling. Lay back down. We are not finished here. I told you that you’d be punished.”

His words made chills sprint across your spine. Your cold, goosebumped covered body felt warm from nothing, and you felt yourself melt back to the ground. You turned your head towards his, and he lifted himself out of the water and hovered over you when his tail became two long, clothed legs. He looked at you too, and you daringly stared into his eyes. Within them you saw lust and desire, nothing more and nothing less. Well, there was something more, but you couldn’t decipher it. 

Hyunjin bent down and crouched next to you, cupping your cheek and gently caressing his thumb over reddening skin. He stared into your eyes, reading them, finding your scrambled thoughts. 

“You need to be good and listen to me. I can’t keep making you listen to me by using my voice, but if you make me, then I will. Am I understood, Captain? Nod your head if you understand, pretty girl.” 

You nodded your head. You did understand, but the nodding of your head was not on your own free will. His touch made you burn more. There was something about his over looming presence that made you feel small. One thing you always hated was the belittling you dealt with when it came to being a woman in a pirate’s life. Always trying to act above you when you know damn well it’s for their own ego. However, Hyunjin was alluring to you, equally as much as you were to him. There was something about his confidence and dominance that made you horny instead of angry. Maybe it was because it wasn’t his ego talking, it was just who he was. He knew he was in control here, and that’s why he didn’t feel nervous around you. The other men who made comments towards you always ended up being the weakest. Not Hyunjin though, nothing about him seemed submissive. 

The horrible feeling in your stomach never subsided. It grew even more in the position you laid in, and you started to wonder if the wetness in your panties is more than the wetted undergarments from being dragged through the sea like a monster’s prey. Maybe the horrible feeling in your stomach was just your gut feeling telling you to get dicked, and there was something about the nearing presence that made the feeling grow. 

Sirens, you think to yourself, are lust filled devils that overwhelm one’s desires when they approach them. Their songs do not force falsified love into someone, but overpowers their primal desires more than they can bear, weakening them, and taking them as food. But why do they want to hurt us, and the sighted mermaids want to help us?

Hyunjin sang another tune, but it made the hypnotic effect wear off, almost like an anecdote. You didn’t move, too afraid for your body to not be your own anymore. 

“Tell me, Captain, do you want me?” He asked boldly. 

You looked him deep in his eyes. You wanted to deny it, you really did, but just as they claimed, he was as beautiful as they came, more than likely the most perfect one, even beating the gods’ beauty. You wanted him in many ways, and he wanted you all the same. Like the bold pirate you were, you spoke up. 

“Yes, I do. Do you want me?”

“Yes, surprisingly I do.” He wasn’t lying. You knew it, you could read lies, and even if it was in his powers to be able to lie without getting caught, this seemed too desiring to him. His breathing was barely steady at the start. He was struggling to hold back. 

He moved to plant himself between your legs and then moved his hand to your neck and applied pressure to the sides of it carefully, taking away some air, but not a lot. You gasped, trying to take back all the air he cut off but failed. 

“It actually pisses me off how much I want you. Do you know what I’m supposed to do with invasive pests like you?” He leans in closer. 

“I’m supposed to rip you apart, limb from limb, and drag you down in the deep to eat you…”

He comes closer, grip tightening, his mouth right to yours, hovering above it just barely. 

“But something in me, something about you, makes me want to rip you apart for my own sake, and I want to hear you cry my name while I do.”

He releases your neck and puts his lips to yours. As he makes contact, you kiss back. He isn’t sweet with it, you aren’t either. His kiss is rough, teeth hooking onto your bottom lip and tongue prodding its way into your mouth while he uses one hand to hold himself up and the other to roughly massage your breast while he rolls his hips between your legs to give your clit the smallest bit of tension. He rolls over with a rhythm, enough to make you let out small, pleading whimpers. He smiled, hearing you fall apart on nothing when he’s just begun. 

He moves, and he begins to peel off the damp clothes from your body. You want to shiver, you want to be cold when your entire naked body is exposed to the elements, but it only burns. You can barely think, and it’s no longer the lack of air’s fault or Hyunjin’s songs. It’s just how horny you are for this angelically handsome devil. He takes off the rags that hide him as well. The sight of his slightly toned chest and thin stomach fills you with more desire than before. Then he removes his pants, and that makes your pussy throb the most. 

He leans back down to you, except he faces your core, and leans in for a meal. The spit from his tongue meeting your untouched folds makes you shudder, and you grab his hair and pull him closer on instinct. His tongue licks in and out of your vagina and messily makes his way to your clit where he sucks on it and nips on it slightly. Your sensitivity is so intense that you feel yourself leak a bit more over his face. He continues his assault on your clit while his hand makes his way to tease around your hole before entering one finger, and a few thrusts later adding a second. 

“Hyunjin, fuck-” You moan while he continues his actions. He takes his mouth off of your clit for a moment to say, “Good girl.” You gush at the nickname and turn your head to the side to hide from how excitedly the praise made you feel. 

The knot in your stomach was ready to be untied. Your quiet whimpers and moans got louder and increased, which signaled him to pick up the pace a little faster. 

“Whenever you’re ready. Just sail with the wind, Captain.” 

As soon as he said that, you released onto him and rode out your high as he calmed his movements before pulling away. Your eyes felt heavy, your body felt relaxed, but you didn’t want to stop there. Hyunjin didn’t either. You fell limply onto your back when Hyunjin moved himself from you. 

“Hey, there, pirate, we aren’t done with this voyage of ours yet.”

Looking down at you, he bent down and picked you up by your hips, moving you to sit in front of a rock on your knees. The rock was at your eye level. Hyunjin sat on top of the rock. He slightly flinched at the coolness of the rock against his ass, but he warmed up to it quickly. He spread his legs, leaving his dick out, and the perfect space for you to crawl in and suck him off. You stared at his long, hard dick while it waited for attention. 

“Hey, princess,” Hyunjin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Get to it.”

You crawled to him on your knees, head bowing down in embarrassment, but Hyunjin grabbed the roots of your head and pulled you close to his dick. “Open.” And you did. You opened your mouth wide and took him in while he kept his hold on your roots for physical control. You bobbed your head up and down, moving your hand up to grab what you couldn’t reach, but Hyunjin stopped you. 

“You’re a Captain, aren’t you? Using your mouth to bark orders all day? Not to mention how much you unhinged your jaw to take me. If your pretty mouth can do those things, then you can suck my whole cock without taking a shortcut with your hands.” He pushed your head all the way on his cock, making you gag, but he ignored it. He kept this up, barely letting you breathe. All he did was assault your throat with each thrust making him groan at your warm, wet walls that felt like heaven’s touch. You could feel your throat become sore, but you honestly didn’t want to stop him. There was something about the way he sounded and his control over you that made you want to please him forever. 

Not long later, his groaning increased and became louder. He was going to cum soon, and you could tell when he pushed your head into cock faster. 

“Fuck!” He moaned when he felt cum spurt from his tip. He calmed his pushing, but he made you keep your mouth around his cock until he was fully finished, then he withdrew himself and forced you to swallow all of it. 

Drool was falling down your chin, your jaw and throat hurt, your scalp was slightly burning, but your eyes were glazed over, wanting even more of him. You felt like you were floating, the pain in your body making your pussy wetter. Even though you felt like Hyunjin was controlling your body with the way he used you like a toy, a new melody filled in your ears making the ache in your body reside. Each tune he sang seemed to do a different thing, but each of them were helpful in the situation you found yourself in. This tune didn’t put you in his control, but it rather settled you to be comfortable for what he was going to do next. 

Hyunjin stood up and looked down at you while you remained on your knees. He brought his hand underneath your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. 

“Tell me your name.” He spoke. His tone was stern. It wasn’t like the way he spoke before, this was a hard command. You weren’t sure why he was so stern about your name and not the intense oral sex you performed on him moments ago.  

“It’s Syrena.” You lie. 

Hyunjin grips your chin tighter and glares daggers at you. 

“You’re lying. Tell me your name.” 

“Ariel.” 

Hyunjin pushed your head to the side harshly before bending down and grabbing you by the base of your neck and forcing you to look at him again. This time he’s much closer. He’s more intimidating this way, and you feel your stomach jump. 

“Lie to me again, and see what happens. Tell me your name or I will leave you here to die.”

“My name is Y/N. Captain Y/N.” 

“Now was that so hard, Y/N?” You glared at him, tempted to rip out of his grasp and kill him on the spot, but you didn't. You stayed put because your sinful temptations were getting the best of you. 

“Captain, Y/N.” You corrected him. Even though he’s been calling you pet names since you got there, now you were starting to grow tired of his taunting and teasing. You let him have his fun, but now you wanted your respect back. However, you were basically willing to do anything for him to fuck you at this point, but you didn’t want to admit that. 

“No, no, no,” He paused, lifting you by your hips again and sitting himself back on the rock. “You are no captain to me.” He sat you slightly on his lap, grabbing his dick and teasing your clit. Your arms were wrapped around his neck to keep you up. The feeling made you whine loudly. He smirked, slowly pushing his head into your soaked cunt until his long length was fully inside you. Your head fell back, and your mouth opened without control as you let out of the loudest moan you could muster. He used his hand to bring you back to face him and look into his piercing gaze again. Your mouth stayed open, moaning with each small thrust he gave as he pushed himself into you, but keeping most of his dick inside you. 

“You are just a pathetic, cock-hungry, submissive, girl.” He said between his small thrusts. 

“H-h-hyunjin, please.” You plead. He gives an evil smile and lets go of your neck making it fall back again. He stood up, holding onto you, bringing you off of his cock almost entirely before harshly thrusting himself back inside. You couldn’t control your reaction, even if you tried. You screamed in pleasure, the noises echoing off the grotto’s walls. He continued to plow into you, but it was enough to ensure it was pleasurable for the both of you and not just his own selfishness. 

“Hyunjin! I can’t- Fuck!” You moaned. 

“Yes, you can. Fucking take it.” He growled, fucking into you harder. 

“Ah- I can’t, please!” The pleasure was insane, impossible to describe. Then, again, there was another new melody that rang through your brain, and you felt like you were floating. You were able to take whatever he gave you without worry, but the pleasure somehow doubled. Your eyes were oceans with the way the tears spilled from them each moment he didn’t stop. But everything was bliss. Everything was perfect. You felt more relaxed and calm than you ever had before. 

Hyunjin switched the positions you were in, lying your stomach against the rock, and your ass in the hair where he entered you from behind and held onto you by your head fucking into you even deeper. 

“My little pirate taking the cock of her enemy.” You wanted to correct him, tell him that your intention was to learn about them, not to hurt them, but that thought left your mind as soon as you had it. You couldn’t think. You were almost brain dead, only being able to feel everything he was giving you and more. 

“I’m gonna cum soon!” You managed to choke out. 

“Fuck, baby, me too.” He groaned back. 

“Ah, Hyunjin, please, I can’t hold it.” 

“Just a little bit. I’ll tell you when you can cum.” His stern voice was back, there was no choice whether you did or didn’t on your own terms. 

He moved out of you for a brief moment and turned you around to face him. Quickly and carefully he picked you up and thrusted his cock into you. You shoved your face into his neck, kissing and sucking and biting him to bare the orgasm building inside you. 

“Can I please-”

“Yes.”

As soon as you released, Hyunjin did too, fucking his cum into you while you moaned. He found your lips and kissed you while slowly walking towards the moonpool of water and allowed himself to fall in with you while you kissed him lustfully and passionately, and he did the same. 

In the water, you were lost, eyes open, but not having control. Hyunjin’s presence was not absent from you, but you still felt sexual pleasure. You weren’t sure how. 

Hyunjin was in front of you, facing you, and smirking. You looked at him, confused as to how you weren’t sinking without him holding you and without swimming. Then you realized you couldn’t feel your legs. You looked down, and your legs were replaced with a shining mermaid’s tale and extensions of a betta fish, just like Hyunjin’s, right in front of you. You noticed one betta fin of yours and his were connected. That was where the pleasure was located. 

You wanted to scream and cry. Hyunjin could tell, so he came closer to you. He held your face in his hands again, stroked your cheeks gently, and leaned in to kiss you. You happily kissed back. Within the midst of your kiss, your tails intertwined with the other, and you felt like you were floating again, but this time it wasn’t Hyunjin’s range of melodies, it was a tone that felt like love. You felt whole and safe. You didn’t freak out about the mermaid tale that now lined your body. 

Hyunjin moved away from your lips, grabbed your hand, and swam you towards the surface of the water. After breaking the surface, you began to speak, but he stopped you. “Don’t freak out. You will be fine.” 

The second his tail was entirely out of the water, he had legs again, and he helped you out of the water where the same thing happened to you. Hyunjin grabbed you again, and held you into his lap bridal style while leaning against a rock. He looked at you, and you looked at him. 

“Humans can’t have sex with mermaids or sirens without turning into one of us. It was a curse put on both humans and merfolk such as ourselves years ago when a human and a mermaid fell in love. However, a jealous sea witch grew envious of their relationship, and put a curse on mermaids that they’d become lust filled demons that killed humans that came near, and anytime a human had sex with one, their curse was to become them too.”

You looked at him dumbfounded. 

“What the fuck?” is the only thing you can muster. 

Hyunjin laughed and explained more in depth. 

“I wasn’t always like this. I was a human too. In fact I was a painter whom all the ladies fell in love over. I adored it. I adored their attention. One day, while I painted by the seaside, I heard a beautiful noise come from the water. I discovered a boy peeking out of the water. He extended his arm to me, I gave him my hand, and he pulled me in. Then, things escalated, and now I’m like this.”

“But I still don’t understand the mermaids and sirens thing. And why’d you have to do this to me? What the hell.” You felt a lot of emotions, but you weren’t as mad at being a siren than you thought you’d be. Depending on the conditions, being part fish could help yourself as a pirate captain.

“I barely understand myself, but I’ll try to explain more. It used to only be mermaids. That was it. Mermaids are beautiful creatures that swim in the sea and have beautiful voices that can do all sorts of things like lure people in and make them feel better. However, mermaids were never inherently evil. Their songs were meant to lure people in for good things, like steering life away from dangerous areas. However, the sea witch’s jealousy got the best of her. She wanted to be the one the human fell in love with, but instead it was someone else. Blinded by rage, she cursed any mermaid who dared fall into the lust trap. Oftentimes mermaids are used to resemble purity because of this, and they distract themselves from carelessly falling into anything that can change that. The sirens curse, it wasn’t just motivated sex, it was killing anyone who tried because the lust was so strong. When the mermaid was first turned into this monster, she kissed his neck, but began to rip it apart. The sexual desires began to settle after the fact, like killing someone brought down the hunger. No one has been able to find an alternative. As for me turning you… I couldn’t help myself. Ever since I saw you there was something about you I needed. It ached, in ways I couldn’t explain, and I knew you felt it too.”

You stared blankly at him in disbelief. Then you spoke up. 

“We weren’t coming to hurt you. My pirate ship is more of a learning experience. We discover things in the sea and tell others about it. We don’t harm anything, we just teach ourselves. Granted we know how to defend ourselves in an attack, but we came to study the mermaids, and we ended up in a killing trap. Now all of my men are dead.” Your voice turned cold by the end, just remembering the bloodshed of the battle you were ripped from for no reason. 

“But you began to attack, don’t deny that.” 

“It was self defense. We knew you were going to do something.” 

“I don’t doubt that. Even though I haven’t always been a siren, I can’t sit back and watch my newkind get slaughtered. I will defend them, and now you will too. You’ll learn to.” 

“Hyunjin, I didn’t want any of this.”

“But you were so beautiful, I had to have you. You’re mine; you belong to me. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be so off balance when I’m around, just like a bit ago when you lost everything the second I was completely near you. I hadn’t even started singing.”

He was right. You knew it too. He was the reason you felt off. He was the reason you were off balance and off guard and off everything. Now he’s the reason you’re part fish. 

“You can go back to being a pirate captain, if you so please, but I am so deeply infatuated with you, I couldn’t bear you to go. I don’t ever want you to leave me, Y/N.”

It was the way he stared deeply into your eyes that made you melt. There was no convincing melody of his to convince you to stay, though you must’ve had that too now if you were one of them. But his eyes, his pleading, and the slight fear you had of him kept you put on his lap. 

“Come, my treasure, explore the ocean with me.” He said, standing you up, and bringing you to the water, jumping in with you, grabbing your hand, and swimming off. 

Your tail made you swim as a pace that was hard to comprehend. You were out of the grotto and near the island you sailed off of in minutes rather than the days of voyage you spent. Hyunjin showed you all about the water, pointing out friends and foe, things to eat, ways to improve your life as a merfolk. 

Down in the water, the two of you faced the other where your betta fins touched, bringing you closer into a kiss. The two of you chased each other around, creating tiny waves in the water as you playfully messed around. 

Resurfacing from the water and staring at Hyunjin, he sang, 

“My heart is pierced by Cupid.

I disdain all glittering gold.

There is nothing can console me,

But my jolly sailor bold.” 

You smiled, happy to hear this song that he sang often. He sang it about you.

But little did you know, that song is the only reason you stayed with him.

Hyunjin found you perfect, so beautiful that he couldn’t let you go. He knew you would've left the second you had the chance, but he can’t let someone he’s besotted by go, so he’ll do what he can to keep you around a little longer. I mean, he did tell you that bullshit story about sirens and mermaids. Had he been turned into a siren by a boy with a freckled covered face? Yes. Was that witchy nonsense true? Of course not. But if you believed him, who cared? He turned you into a siren on his own, so he could keep you around forever. He was going to have you no matter what.

Bang C.

→ not safe for work [S] [A] (05/31)

→ untitled #1 [S] (06/05)

→ wreak havoc [S] [A] + lee m. (06/23)

→ untitled #2 [S] (07/12)

→ betrayal [S] [A] + hwang h. (08/06)

→ untitled #3 [S] (08/09)

→ in control [S] (10/10)

→ [18:45 p.m.] [S] (12/29)

Lee M.

→ wreak havoc [S] [A] + bang c. (06/23)

→ highway to heaven [S] (07/29)

→ [17:49 p.m.] [S] + han j. (08/01)

→ inexperienced [S] (08/03)

→ [1:10 a.m.] [S] (09/06)

→ temptation [S] (09/17)

→ after hours [S] (11/22)

Seo C.

→ selfish [S] [A] (04/25)

→ untitled #4 [S] (10/22)

Hwang H.

→ burning sensations [S] [A] (07/10)

→ betrayal [S] [A] + bang c. (08/06)

→ through the blinds [S] (10/17)

→ gallery hyundai [S] (12/20)

Han J.

→ reverse corruption [S] (06/06)

→ [17:49 p.m.] [S] + lee m. (08/01)

→ and your bestfriend too [S] [A] (09/13)

→ untitled #5 [S] (12/16)

Lee F.

→ voice [S] [F] (05/05)

Kim S.

→ truth or dare [S] (08/25)

Yang J.

Nothing yet...

© matryosika. reposting my work in any form or platform is not allowed.

Perv!hyunjin who begs you model, and over time slowly convincing you to wear more and more revealing and tight clothing. 

“It’s easier for anatomy, please.”

“Here. I have a shirt for you to wear, please? I know, I know, it’s not your style, but it’ll be perfect for the painting!” 

Perv!hyunjin who worked an agreement on household chores, ensuring he got laundry just to steal your underwear’s and ensure an excuse to walk into your room. 

 Perv!hyunjin who has taken your favourite plushie claiming to wash it. He did.. only after it was covered in his cum.

Perv!hyunjin who has barged into your room claiming he hear whimpers and groans and thought you were hurt…he also hear the vibrations of your vibratior…but you’ll never know.

Perv!hyunjin who leaves his door open when he’d jerk off, knowing you had seen a few times. 

Perv!hyunjin who has openly complained to not being able to get off easily recently and knew you would agree.

“Well…we can help eachother out. As friends.”

the smell of vanilla is overpowering here. strong and almost spicy in a way that reminds you of christmas cookies or maybe incense sticks.

your cuffs are fastened to the pipe of the washbasin next to the shower, forcing you to tilt your body slightly, but not enough to be truly uncomfortable in the warm bath. chan is sitting across from you in the tub, still in his underwear and shirt, scrubbing sweat and tears from your skin with a loofah.

you had another screaming fit while the two men were gone, then another when chan came to get you and now the rest of the energy you had held onto somewhere deep within you is completely drained down to the last drop.

you close your eyes and lean back as much as the cuffs allow you, trying let yourself enjoy the soft touches, this twisted aftercare, letting the water running over you cleanse you somehow - even if chan is the one who did all of this to you. you never thought of yourself as someone who’d be so accepting of such a situation, but right now you’re too tired to fight.

“you’ve been good,” chan says, gently running the sudsy material over your chest and up your arms. “really good. hyunjin likes you.”

despite only kneeling in the tub, chan’s top and hair is completely soaked, courtesy of hyunjin. whatever they did in here to leave the room a steamy, flooded mess. you shouldn’t have been surprised that the two of them went to clean up together, but it only adds to the weirdness. if these guys live up each others asses this much, why don’t they just chain each other to that bed?, you think to yourself bitterly, surprising yourself with the fierceness of your anger that’s still lingering in your veins despite you feeling so burnt out.

you’re upset in a way you probably can’t quite comprehend yourself yet. you’re mad at yourself for not fighting more, for not giving them a harder time. but you’re angrier at hyunjin, for what he did, and chan for letting it happen.

“so what’s hyunjin’s deal?” you ask, voice sounding cross and childish. “that dude can’t even shower by himself?”

you can tell your question doesn’t sit right with chan by the sigh he lets out. “we have to have bath time before we go to sleep,” he explains like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“seems like you already had your bath time,” you point out, eyeing chan’s curly hair and the way his wet t-shirt clings to him.

chan shakes his head, not deterred in how he’s thoroughly running the loofah over every inch of your skin he can reach from his position. “that was hyunjin’s bath time. this is yours.” he’s speaking slowly now, putting emphasis on the important words like it’s difficult for you to follow a conversation, like the most obvious things are not making any sense to you. his voice and touch still so careful despite you obviously pushing his buttons just now.

chan looks tired in the low light of the small bathroom, like he’s the one who went through hell. his gentle eyes and soft touches piss you off all of a sudden and you freeze up under his ministrations.

chan catches your eyes and his concentrated expression softens into something more personal.

“are you hurt?”

“am i-?!” the chuckle you cut yourself off with has no humor in it at all. “were you mentally present at all today? of course i’m hurt. i obviously am.”

chan tightens his jaw, then relaxes it again. his tone doesn’t change when he talks to you again. “you’ll have to rest all day tomorrow.”

“and then you’ll let me go home?”

you’ve brought up leaving several times - screaming when you first woke up this morning, pleading everytime he prepped you, demanding when he took you to the bath. as always chan ignores you, this time in favor of draining the tub and rinsing the suds off with medium temperature spray of the shower head. he is careful to turn it down in intensity when he gets between your legs and you silently appreciate it, but you don’t let it show.

you decide to give it up for the day. you let chan dry you off and cuff you back to bed without a fight. your eyes fall shut from exhaustion seconds after you hear chan leave the room and lock the door behind him.

at the end of the hall, several walls away from where you’re sleeping, there’s another bedroom: one big bed, two separate mattresses. a firm one for chan, specifically tailored to aid his worsening back pains and a soft one for hyunjin where he’s happily wriggling and shuffling around under his weighted blanket. still up and alert enough to whisper his excitement to chan, despite laying down over thirty minutes ago. he smells homey and familiar - like nutmeg, anise and sweet vanilla - but the waves of anxiety that usually radiate off him are entirely replaced with a different kind of restlessness.

“you know, i really expected you to just pass out after you came like that. not… this…,” chan says. after weeks and months of tucking a sulky and paranoid hyunjin into bed, this new kind of manic energy is unsettling.

“they’re so good, so exciting. felt so, so, so, so good. wanna see them crying aaaall the time. they cried so good for me.”

“okay, that’s enough now, hyunjinnie,” chan whispers. the exasperation in his tone can’t mask the fondness he feels. “if you keep talking like that you’re gonna make yourself ache again.”

there was a time where chan could have just slipped his fingers into hyunjin’s pajamas, taking the edge off and making him settle with the drag of his hand against hot skin until he could catch hyunjin’s sticky cum in his cupped palm. a time where a sleepy, satisfied hyunjin would let him grind his own erection against hyunjin’s clothed thigh until chan met his release too. chan doesn’t blame his boy for becoming so difficult - never ever and especially not now when things are finally looking up - but he’s been feeling the effects of his frustration of not being able to take care of him as easily anymore.

aside from his head, hyunjin only let’s chan touch him during bath time, so chan runs his fingers through hyunjin’s freshly washed hair briefly, relishing the way he only squirms instead of flinching. they’ve already come a long way. and if hyunjin really takes a liking to you, they might get to be okay again.

“take it easy, okay?” chan whispers. “we can’t fix it if you start aching now, you know that.”

“hmmm but i can just go back over there, right? now i can just go back and they make it go away,” hyunjin says dreamily.

“they have to rest.” hyunjin can’t see the way chan’s furrowing his brow, how he tries to find the words to explain. “i told you, their body’s not used to you yet. you’ve been so patient these past months, you can wait a day or two to play with them again, yeah?”

“yeah,” hyunjin sighs reluctantly, still fidgety under his sheets, rustling as he adjusts himself several times before finally curling up to sleep, his relaxed face turned towards chan’s somber one.

you really do get to rest the next day. chan brings you food and takes you to the bathroom. he doesn’t touch you except for his steadying hand on your back when he helps you up from the bed and his fleeting fingers on your thighs when he adjusts your legs while putting you back in the cuffs. the position is humiliating every time, but you’re thankful for the little bit of privacy you have without chan’s invasive fingers. you ask chan to let you go home, but his continuous lack of reaction only makes you feel hopeless, so you drop it after the second time he checks on you. you can make out chan whispering to hyunjin in front of your door several times, but to your relief he doesn’t let him in.

chan brings you more food than usual around what feels like noon, he tells you to eat it all because there won’t be dinner. he waits for you to finish, then he takes you to the bathroom. you must have fallen asleep immediately after - you suspect one of the vitamin supplements chan offers you with every meal besides breakfast aren’t vitamins at all. you‘re constantly weaving in and out of slumber, sometimes scared of what’s to come, sometimes bored by your room, mostly dejected. your glad when you immediately feel your eyes getting heavy after your meal and you let sleep take you.

you startle awake when you feel the mattress dip under you. you expect chan waiting for you to wake up to take you to the bathtub - but you’re surprised to see hyunjin, naked again, kneeling at your feet at the end the bed. you don’t know how long he’s been sitting there - maybe he just climbed on the mattress and woke you - but his heavy erection is already curling up against his stomach, his eyes fixed between your legs while his hands nervously move around the sheets and his own body. he doesn’t seem as wildly desperate as the last time you saw him, but even his excitement can’t rid hyunjin’s obvious nerves. he honestly looks ridiculous sitting there naked with the way he’s clearly uncomfortable in his own skin, fidgety and insecure.

you would find it funny if you weren’t so scared.

“do you ache too?”

you almost jump out of your skin. it’s the first time hyunjin properly addressed you and you’re unsure how to deal with it. he’s not looking at you when he speaks. you contemplate your answer.

of course you ache. despite almost 24 hours of resting you’re still very aware of the soreness between your legs. a constant reminder of what hyunjin can do with his cock that he’s awkwardly hovering his hands over. you doubt that hyunjin’s curious about your recovery process though. wide-eyed you slowly shake your head, hoping hyunjin will just leave it at that and back off, leave you alone in this room again.

“you know sometimes chan is gone until late at night and then i have to do everything by myself,” hyunjin muses, more to himself than to you.

he scuffles forward on the bed until settles between your thighs, lifting you up as much as your shackles allow it, so your hips are tilted towards him and you’re perfectly open for his taking. it’s just like the first time. but this time chan didn’t spend hours after hours on making sure you’re ready.

like an afterthought hyunjin leans over to the drawer on the right hand of the bedframe, hastily searching for a condom and letting a dozen plastic wrapped rubbers scatter on the floor as he rips one from the box. he’s just as quick and careless as he rolls the condom over his length, barely giving you time to blink before he lines himself up.

“no, hyunjin, wait! you can’t-” you yell, panicking at the prospect of what he’s about to do.

hyunjin entire body recoils likes he’s been shocked, then he immediately snaps back and hastily smacks his hand over your mouth, making you wince at the feeling of his large palm smashing your lips against your teeth. “i don’t like that,” hyunjin presses out, voice shrill and pleading. “you have to be good. you have to.”

with one hand still pressed to your face, hyunjin lines himself back up, his eyes watching you with sinister distrust. you never thought you’d ever long for chan’s presence, but here you are desperately wishing he would rush in. he wouldn’t let hyunjin do this, you’re sure of it. you’re crying now and hyunjin moans when he notices, letting his fingers run over your face to feel the wetness running down.

this seems to be what makes hyunjin snap, his desperation to be inside of you again more overwhelming than everything else. but when he pushes against you slightly, he miscalculates the resistance that would meet his thick cock. rather than forcing himself inside of you, hyunjin doesn’t breach your hole at all, but his erection slips over your clit onto your abdomen, leaving a bit of wetness from the condom behind on your skin.

you open your eyes you had clenched shut to see hyunjin sadly looking down at where his cock is resting against the length of your lower stomach, making a sad distraught sound in the back of his throat. his lower lip is trembling and you wonder if he is going to cry now - if maybe he’s accepted his defeat of not getting an orgasm inside of you. hyunjin’s hips move in little circles against your skin, messily dragging his cock over your abdomen as he subconsciously ruts forward again despite himself, letting out displeased, strangled groans as the friction does nothing but tease him.

he grinds the length of himself against you three or four more times, then suddenly hyunjin snaps himself out of it and pulls back, looking down at where his cock rests over your pussy. you brace yourself for him another attempt of him to forcefully push inside of you, but hyunjin only tilts his head in thought.

“i don’t know how chan always makes it so easy,” he finally complains, voice whiney and strung out. you’re still too scared to speak to him - and even if you would, you’re not sure what you would tell him.

you don’t have to say anything, though. seemingly remembering something, hyunjin’s face suddenly lights up and seconds later you feel a hot string of saliva dribbling onto your cunt as hyunjin spits down on you; just like the first time he fucked you, but this time he’s using two of his fingers to messily rub the liquid around your hole.

you can tell he’s holding himself back from just trying to fuck you again with just a bit of wetness added, but you can see the determination of getting it right in the furrow of hyunjin’s brow when he gets eye level with your cunt and messily starts licking over your clit. his big hands are clumsily rubbing at your thighs in an attempt to mimic chan’s soothing a stretch and you feel yourself automatically getting wet at the stimulation, a natural reaction you wouldn’t be able to stop if you tried. the anger at your body for betraying you gets overpowered by the feeling of the relief that hyunjin won’t try to tear you apart anymore, despite the fact that he doesn’t have lube. hynjin lets spit pool on his tongue, then drags it through your folds, pushing his hot muscle inside of you and making you squirm and push up against him as he hums at your taste. even when you know he must feel your humiliating wetness on his tongue, hyunjin keeps eating you out like he enjoys it, fucking his tongue inside of your hole before pulling back to lave over your clit again.

“you’re even wetter here than on your face,” he pants and you feel your entire body flushing with a feeling that is mostly embarrassment, but also an overwhelming sense of arousal.

hyunjin pushes two of his fingers inside of you, the digits barely meeting any resistance anymore as he scissors them open and spits between them from time to time. you can feel his saliva dripping from your hole and wetting the sheets beneath you when hyunjin ducks down to go back to licking over your clit again, his tongue wide and quick like a dog lapping at water. you feel your high creeping up on you, approaching unbelievably quick as he keeps up his messy licks while prodding you from inside, sensitive nerve endings going haywire until you’re creaming around hyunjin’s fingers, shaking against your restraints.

seemingly satisfied with his preparations now that you’ve orgasmed, hyunjin pulls his fingers out and hastily wipes them on yor thigh. he positions himself again quickly, guiding his cock that’s still just as hard inside of his condom against your sloppy hole. when you peer up at him from beneath your eyelids, still heavy from the pleasure, you notice that hyunjin is just as nervous as you that he still won’t be able to get his thick cock in - at least without hurting you. when he breaches you, you hold back a scream at the inevitable stretch. hyunjin’s expression changes from nervous anticipation to giddy relief when your wet walls give in to his girth, slowly letting him push in until he’s finally buried to the hilt.

hyunjin immediately starts bucking into you desperately, only pulling out slightly before shakily humping forward again as he’s chasing his orgasm sheathed inside of your velvety walls.

while the first time was pure desperation and fear of not getting to finish, hyunjin is more excited now, probably from imagining what having you again would feel like. but despite him seeming a bit less animalistic, this newfound optimism does nothing for hyunjin’s coordination. he’s messily rutting his hips into yours, the tip of his cock pushing too deep too soon and making you feel the stretch of him as if he was claiming his space inside of your helpless body.

“good boy,” hyunjin whispers under his breath. “good, good boy, taking good care.” he’s getting closer now, you can tell from the way he’s babbling to himself again. “… m’good, clean boy for you, please, please just let me, please tell me…”

you’re exhausted. you just want it to be over. the way hyunjin is looking at you, wild and desperate, makes you give in - you’d give him anything he wanted as this point just so he could finish and be done with you. you purposely tighten your muscles around his throbbing cock as if to mimic your orgasm that brought him over the edge the first time, seeing hyunjin’s immediate reaction as his mouth falls open, whining nasally with every pulse of your hot cunt. a bead of sweat drips from hyunjin’s brow down onto your face, but he’s still pleading for his release, nails digging into your thighs as he tries to get in deeper.

“good boy,” you whisper despite yourself.

something inside hyunjin snaps. his face scrunches up in an expression of pure bliss as he cums with a sob, hips bucking into you wildly with every spurt of his cum that he releases inside the condom. he lets himself fall over you, shudders still wracking his body every now and then as he grinds out the aftershocks of his orgasm inside of you, huffing and panting with exhaustion and overstimulation.

“okay, hyunjin. let’s get you in the bathtub now.”

both you and hyunjin freeze at the sound of chan’s voice. you don’t know when he came back and entered the room, how long he’s been watching, doing nothing as you were at hyunjin’s disposal. you wonder if chan’s angry at him - seeing how adamant he was on letting you rest and how well he prepared you last time. you wonder if chan’s angry at you for not convincing hyunjin to wait.

if chan is mad, he doesn’t express it in any way, his voice still soft as he repeats: “bath time, hyunjin. let’s go.”

despite not having caught his breath yet, hyunjin seems less distraught at the prospect of letting you go than last time. he quickly clambers off of you and trails out of the room.

Profiles (Y/N's Friends)

Profiles (Hyunjin's Friends)

Profiles (Notable Cast)

One - Cheating Again.

Two - New Girl.

Three - I hate Her.

Four - The Beast Is Out.

Five - Early Birdies.

Six - What’s Your Problem?

Seven - Talking In Circles.

Eight - Just One Meow (TW).

Nine - Give Us A Chance.

Ten - Operation : Hwang's Pet.

Eleven - Why Is It Always Her? (TW) (W)

Twelve - Lock Me Up.

Thirteen - The Bet.

Fourteen - A little Too Silly.

Fifteen - I'm A Fuck Up

Sixteen - Wrapped In Regret (W)

Seventeen - On Some Me Shit.

Eighteen - Pink Flowers.

》 7. a little death

》 8. not an idol, just a visual

》 9. all I need to say

》 10.taste you, cherry

》 11.opening sequence

》 12.where are we now?

》 13.a change of heart

》 14.behind the light

》 15.not the same anymore

》 16.devil in the mirror

》 17.make a promise

》 18.my flower (epilogue)

●●● more to come

list : @seungly @staykkk @starlostseungmin @bluechans @starshine-moon @comet-falls @lix-ables @asters-abditory @l3visbby @chrispychans @hyunverse @cherry-0420 @minhosify @strayluvr @t4ste @skzgallll @onlyweknowleeknow @strayingawayy @sherryblossom @typagirl97 @straystaychan @day6andetcetera @layerhsl @bbujiikseu @hyunjinswifeee @linoboop @mal-lunar-28 @cxentrxcks @intomysoul-555 @zonked-times @adorehwang @luvrhyune @hyunsungbased @fangirlnation @hxked @moranastray @levantea @badmaeda @staytinymoagenezen @minholvr @svintsandghosts @wokstarleo @loviehan @thirstybchanstan @army-stay-noel @notastraykid @beautifulgashinaxxxi @alaniberri @hash2013 (minors are removed)

— chapter one: honeyed milk — chapter two, part one: if honey is pure, it will burn — chapter two, part two: if honey is pure, it will burn — chapter three: whiskeyed darlings — chapter four: title tba (tbr)

Hyunjin kicked his trousers and undergarments off his ankles. If Changbin hadn’t been there he would have left them on the floor, but today he picked them up and put them on the chair in the corner of the room just so his Head Steward wouldn't berate him for that in particular.

“Look at me,” Changbin repeated, his voice a little louder. And Hyunjin knew his voice could get a whole lot louder, so he, reluctantly, turned to his friend.

“There’s nothing to say.” Hyunjin’s voice was low and dark, as dark as the room was—only one oil lamp was shining in the darkness, but it was more than enough to see the criticism on Changbin’s face. “I know. I’m getting married in two months.” 

“You don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to.” Hyunjin unbuttoned his white cotton shirt, unbothered by Changbin’s presence as he undressed. “It will happen regardless, so there is nothing to talk about. Can I bathe, now?”

Changbin looked behind him to check on the water levels in the tub. “Not quite.” He sighed, busying himself with adding more lighting with a few candles, as well as the wall lantern in and outside of the washroom. “Hyunjin, you’ll make the poor girl miserable if you keep sinking into your own dark sentiments.” 

“I’ll make her miserable anyway.” Hyunjin went into the washroom and decided the tub was filled enough to his taste. “She’ll be my wife, that’s the beginning of her curse.” 

When Changbin came back, he was holding the gift you had sent for him for his birthday. There had been no event—Hyunjin cared very little for his own birthday, after all, and hadn’t celebrated it since losing his mother. But despite all that, year after year, you wrote him a letter for his birthday, and he one for yours. 

At first glance, the gift was modest—a jar made of clay with a simple but elegant ornate design around it. The handle on the lid was shaped like a bee and painted accurately, too. The true gift, however, was inside the jar. Honey from the south, honey that yourbees had made and that you had harvested. Your bees, as in, you were in charge of your home’s apiary, despite your mother’s strict disapproval of it. 

‘She says it isn’t very ladylike of me,’ you had written that year in your letter. ‘But I like them, their buzzing soothes me, and the honey is sweet, sweet, sweet.

You were sweet too, too sweet for him—he was bitter, and sweet didn’t cancel out bitter, didn’t make it any more palatable. It just made it worse. 

Moments like those, the ones you spent in silence, in a comfortable one that only established itself between good friends and over time, it seemed, felt the most sinful, though disguising as the most innocent. When you weren’t meeting each other physically, and when you barely talked – when in fact, it seemed like you shared the least amount of contact it felt utterly shameful. Because it was intimate. Because it was more than any physical connection could ever build, you thought. Because in moments like those you could be vulnerable, existing in each other’s presence, if only in thought. Allowing yourself for them to wander, allowing sole silence to settle between you. It felt worse than any physical cheating could ever feel.

But then again, it was platonic. You argued it was, internally. You have met once or twice in the store, unintentionally – you had both needed groceries, and had stayed a bit to chat. It had evoked nostalgia, when you’d remembered it was the first place of your meeting. You had talked like friends would when crossing paths without planning to, had laughed and paid at the register together before making your ways home. And yet you had a feeling within that didn’t mimic friendship, that felt somewhat foreign yet strangely and wholly familiar. It was comforting, rather than butterflies that swarmed in the lower pit of your stomach it felt like waves of soft waters, ones you’d lay atop on when visiting a beach. Every conversation with Hyunjin – the physical ones more than the ones when you called, or merely texted – felt like water carrying your body weightlessly; utterly calming, silent, longing. You often tried to ignore it to your best abilities whenever it evoked, but it was not deniable eventually that whatever was developing between the two of you was maybe, just maybe, more than what you’d call a sheer friendship. Because you truly shouldn’t feel as excited, as happy and curious about another man you claimed to be simply acquainted with.

Speaking of, you were everything but keeping Hyunjin a secret from Chan. Despite your situation, dilemma – however you wished to call it, certainly not an easy turn of events, surely – you didn’t have the heart to give up on Chan, not that easily. You had promised to try, and he had too – which all but meant a sudden careless relationship. Arguments occurred, still, ones you didn’t seem to grow out of. Over little things, over bigger things both of you deemed important – Hyunjin was a subject of said disputes, more often than not. You felt guilty, surely, for feeling as content with him as you did. Though you had often argued that you wouldn’t tolerate jealousy from Chan in that matter. You said there wasn’t a reason for Chan to grow protective if you were the very person to admit you and Hyunjin being friends; which in no way was forbidden, Seungmin and you were too, after all; you found it childish thinking of every member of the opposite sex as a potential threat to a relationship, which Chan reluctantly agreed on. You were aware that you weren’t fully honest, not truly, that you were sinning in one way or another – you weren’t cheating, were far from it, and you’d never stoop so low – before anything possibly developed, you’d be the first to break it off with Chan. Yet you weren’t lying when you had promised to try again, to not give up the year long relationship you had been building, had honest intentions in that matter – if anything, you were thoroughly conflicted. Staying with Chan to observe, to see if your bond would reconnect, yet befriending Hyunjin to yet grasp if he was a good match, a better than Chan maybe, altogether; it drained you, internally.

And faster than you could look, four weeks had passed since you had been in the library, since you had lent out the book you were supposed to bring in sooner or later. You had enjoyed reading, had remembered Hyunjin all the while – recalling he had read the book as well, wondering his thoughts on an impactful passage or a nice message you’d read. You enjoyed that you had similar taste – momentarily drawing the comparison that you and Chan could never bond over factors like these, your taste in literature and similar arts fundamentally different. It had never been an obstacle in your relationship, though having another person to enjoy the same things as you did was comforting, you couldn’t lie.

One o’clock on a Monday, and you were excited when you stood before the library, approaching the familiar wooden door. It looked heavy, was heavier when you pulled on it; it opened with a thick creaking, one that dared to disturb the entire quiet of such a silent space. The smell of books filled your senses momentarily, and though the place was utterly clean small particles of dust reflected in the rays of the sun and danced a dance you disturbed by walking right through. Hyunjin was sitting on his assigned desk, as promised working from twelve to six from Monday to Thursday – you had missed his face. You had missed seeing him, had missed observing him during work – not that you have done it often enough to truly miss it, yet excitement filled your body when he caught your eyes and smiled back at you. You’ve seen each other occasionally the last weeks so his smile seemed familiar, warm in nature and showing pearly teeth, and you had missed it. You had missed him. Deeply so – it didn’t scare you.

Eager steps carried you to the man, your shoes clacking softly against the wooden floor and echoed through the tall room of the library. Hyunjin fit into this place like a glove, you though – you could see the appeal it drew to him, could see how someone like him – someone quiet, someone sensitive and life-loving – would enjoy a beauteous, nearly sacred place like this. That he enjoyed typing away on his working computer and listening to the keyboard’s melody as he did, undisturbed and silent room around him, or that he liked grabbing a book or a pencil to kill time while work was slow – it fit him, in the best way it could fit.

“Hey.”

His voice like honey, and you have missed that, too. His voice, you have noticed the first time around, bore soothing fruits that melted on your tongue and got you hooked when you as far as tasted it. Anything about him had such effect, you couldn’t lie, but it was his voice that you learned to enjoy so much over the past weeks. You had missed it, deeply so.

You responded, watched as Hyunjin’s eyes softened at your word, took out the book you had not forget to pack and return. A bit of small talk around it, mutual asking about certain passages, about the ending or the characters and warmth coursed its way through your limbs – it certainly was nice to have someone with similar taste, someone who thought and felt close to the way you did. Chan rarely did, not about literature or arts, anyways.

“Oh, I’d love to see your stuff at some point…”, the conversation had shifted to Hyunjin’s very own art – ever since the party you had wondered what kind of paintings he created, ever since the party Hyunjin had told you you’d be welcome to stop by any time. “…do you like, have studio?”. A shy approach to invite yourself without actually doing so, without seeming pushy, interested instead. Yet you hoped Hyunjin would get the hint.

“Oh, no- not really, I mean. I’ve always wanted an atelier, but I can’t afford it right now…”, a glance up to you, reading your face, wondering if inviting you would be too much at this stage. Risking it anyways. “…I do have a home studio, though. You know, if you want… I’m free in an hour here.”

An exchanged smile, relief from both sides after you agreed and said you’d grab a book to read while waiting for his shift to end. Mutual giddiness bubbling in your chests and you all but could concentrate on whatever novel you picked from the various shelves – in thought already at Hyunjin’s place. You hadn’t expected, hadn’t particularly planned to be invited home to him. Your intentions had been pure, you hadn’t lie when you said you were interested in his art – though you couldn’t lie over the face that being within his own four walls rope a sort of anticipation inside you. Ones home was utterly intimate, felt like a new step to your friendship – a step you should probably be wary to take, one you maybe shouldn’t take altogether. Though you weren’t able to mind it, in all honesty.

Minute by minute went by and an hour felt like an infinity. You’d read barely twenty pages, having to go over paragraphs more often than not in your lack of absorption, until Hyunjin stood before you, finally. Bag thrown over one shoulder, single strands of hair fallen out his ponytail framing his face, soft smile dancing across his lips – he was a sight comforting to look at, and if there’d been any guilt left – about waiting an hour for the man your boyfriend was most jealous of, about visiting said man in his very own home, about taking more interest in his life, his art, his passions than in your boyfriends’ – then it was all gone by now. You didn’t mind anymore, didn’t care. Had decided maybe in that particular moment, with Hyunjin standing before you in all glory, so cautious since aware of your unavailability, yet a promising look in his eyes, one telling to simply choose him, leave your gone love behind and find happiness in a new one, that whatever was left with Chan was long over. Was barely worth fighting for, if not for sheer comfort and habit. That you in fact would stop fighting, for you’d been the only one doing so, after all. That though Hyunjin was yet a land foreign to you, yet to be discovered and explored he was a land of most promising and ripe fruits, of most beauteous nature and sight, of most comfort and secureness.

“You ready?”

___ . ꫂ

Hyunjin had played down the state of his home studio severely — it was as good as an actual atelier would be, to your knowledge anyways. The apartment he shared with his roommates — all gone now, stuck in classes or blowing raspberries at work — bore an extra room too small to be a bedroom and too spacey to work as a simple storage room, and Hyunjin had quickly taken the chance to claim ownership over the space. It’s walls and floor were littered in various combinations of cold and warm colours, stains Hyunjin was likely unable to remove for the overall state of the room was a clean one, despite being the one of an artist – you didn’t know any artists personally, yet had always imagined them to be on the chaotic side. Hyunjin’s studio, stains aside, brought nothing of such – brushes and paint kits stood under a rough system, seemed clean and neat in their position. Yet the studio carried the aura of pure artistry nevertheless — canvases piled up on each other or against the walls, unfinished and breath-taking sketches revealing themselves the longer you laid eyes upon the room, new mystery revealing itself with every closer look you took. There was art everywhere you looked, warm and comforting art you didn’t think you’d ever grow tired upon seeing. Art that made you blush, naked bodies piling upon each other, wondering if Hyunjin ever took live references, art that made you think, canvases filled with so much abstractness, so much variation in colour and texture that it needed you a minute to understand what you were looking at altogether.

You wanted to never leave this place again.

“You made all that?”

Stupid question expectant of stupider answer, though Hyunjin merely chuckled, his cheeks darkening, his fingers fiddling suddenly.

“Yeah... I mean, some of it is like super rough and not really good but... you know, inspiration comes and goes.”

The man gave you a look shy, one you wanted embedded behind a lock within your heart for an eternity – it was pureness, it was innocence that laid in his eyes when he looked at you like this. It was salvation, spoken with a pair of orbs, freedom offered with a single gaze.

And it was art that revealed itself to be a person, laying eyes on Hyunjin, art prettier than pencils and colours could ever create. Looking at him as though your entire world, looking at him as though he was the answer to everything you’d been looking for.

“Oh, shut up, nothing in here is ‘not really good’, I love every single piece…”, exchanged shy look, reddened faces the both of you, and you continued quickly, “I mean, I’m no artist but looking at your paintings makes me, like… feel something. I guess that’s a compliment for an artist, no?”

You chuckled, made your way into the depths of his atelier – it wasn’t anything but, as modest as Hyunjin chose to be about it – and let yourself flood with emotions he had converted onto paper and canvas, allowed yourself to discover colours and shapes, to give them a meaning only guessable – you truly weren’t an artist nor in any right of a good critique, though for Hyunjin you felt ready to learn it all. To understand theory and technique and profession, to dive into a world so unknown to you before, so beauteous you found yourself unable to resist.

A chuckle from him, then; “Yeah, you’re right… thank you.”

Hyunjin wasn’t following you through your journey across his works, stood by his most current piece near the window of the room – he had explained before that natural light was the best to paint with, so grateful the room happened to face the west side. He stood and watched you, enchanted by your interest in him, in his most vulnerable thing, nervous if you’d end up liking it altogether – art was insanely subjective, and while Hyunjin never took it personally nor illy if people and critiques reacted negatively, he needed you to be of an opinion positive. He needed you to like whatever you saw, to maybe understand even, inspiration and emotion, thought-process behind pieces and paintings. Though maybe that was too much to ask for, maybe to greedy of a wish to make. So Hyunjin stood watching you by the open window, hoping for simple contentment with his works from your side. Simple liking, nothing more. Because your validation was all he viewed necessary, from person least knowing of the subject yet of most important value.

Eyes meeting his, and you chuckled out, catching Hyunjin by surprise.

“You don’t talk much, huh?”

Catching Hyunjin by surprise anew – you were impossible to figure out. Admittedly, he had been silent from the moment you started making your way through his works. While he could have explained his inspiration behind certain ones he decided to refrain from it, letting you – hopefully – enjoy the silent satisfaction art brought. He was merely watching you – if maybe because in awe, though you were right, surely. He didn’t talk much, ever, truly.

“Yeah. I don’t really have much to say, I guess.”

Surprised look from your side now, and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know. Your paintings say otherwise.”

And with that you kept looking, and left Hyunjin utterly perplexed. It was a statement so base yet so determined in its character, and Hyunjin nothing but blushed at it.

He kept watching your eyes widen at certain works, when you liked the colours or when you did, after all, reciprocate thoughts and feelings, watched as you walked carefully, cautious not to nudge or bump against still wet canvasses and drying paint. Watched and shied when your gaze met his, when you decided to explore him instead of the art all around – and Hyunjin wondered if you felt the same. Ever wondered if the tension he still felt when around had dissipated for you already, if you had gotten used to the pulling and urging and longing your bodies fell into whenever near each other. No doubt that you had felt the same yet wondering if it was still the case, or if he was the one needing to hold a grip of himself – his body plucked by yours in the smallness of the room was unbearable, nearly, made him lose himself if he wasn’t careful enough. Needed constant reminding to not lose himself in the sight of you fully, converting his eyes for a second or two, collecting composition, regaining control. Control you so loved to take away from him, were so eager to steal right through the holes in his heart.

He damned your boyfriend — if it wasn’t for him, Hyunjin would have long made a move, despite his shy, his careful character, would have long spilled out his hearts’ desires for it took his body every last nerve to resist you, the whole of you. As you made your way through his paintings, through his emotions, through the soul of his Hyunjin’s body urged to be with yours, his heart desired your very own.

“You’d be beautiful to paint.”

Words past Hyunjin’s lips, gushing out too fast as to catch them from being heard. Far louder in the small room that he had intended them to be, for he hadn’t intended them at all. Hyunjin hadn’t even finished the thought before the words had materialized into the room – they simply appeared, as much to your surprise as his, and they bathed the both of you with a shower of fluster, of speechlessness. Exchanging looks, though faces burned hot converting eyes wasn’t in neither of your strengths to do – you simply looked at each other, purified disbelief dripping from within your eyes and onto your faces, standing like two idiots caught red-handed; because that was the first time thoughts had been spoken out aloud. Thoughts too secret, too forbidden to share, thoughts nearly sinful, bashful to even think, really. And they occupied your minds entirely – and Hyunjin was the first to admit to them. Though not wanted yet he did, and you’d been scared of the consequences. Scared to move because that would mean realness, scared to shift gaze because that would mean shyness, similar-mindedness; sin.

“I’m – oh my god, I’m sorry. I just mean --- you’d be a good reference, that’s all. I-”

Words a waterfall, and you shook your head, back in the studio after having felt lost, floating somewhere above the room, brought back the voice of his. And roughly, so.

“No, no… don’t apologize… uh- thank you…? I’m sorry, uh, thank you, really.”

Voice as trembling as you felt, and you shook your head all the while speaking, huffing out in attempted amusement, though it came out as a snort and ended up awkward; which made your heart beat faster and your face paint darker, and you cursed Hyunjin for saying those five words, so short a sentence, so small a promise and yet enough to shake your word. Walls you built so carefully before stepping into his home crumbling in their place, any sort of shield around your heart, regardless of its material, shattering into pieces to let free the feeling you had been trying to suffocate beneath layers of pretend. Allowing your body to be pulled by his, allowing the string that connected your hearts to tighten, to bring you closer, to connect you. To truly connect you, because now his word was spoken, now his promise was made. As small a promise as it was, and there was way to go, but it was irreversible.

And he knew it, too. Felt the threads, felt the needle in his arteries poking deeper, felt the fine fibre pulling him towards you and you towards him, felt your heart sink altogether, felt your crumbling composure. Knew even, maybe, entirely what you’ve been thinking – though not a master to mind reading he swore he knew what was going on in yours, felt your thoughts as though they were his own.

“I… actually… I haven’t really painted you, per se, but…”, though shy, resistant, Hyunjin let his mouth speak, as though a stranger to his own words, with no control over his mouth, his body. But the moment called for honesty, and he was ready to grant it to you. Ready to cross boundaries if he needed to – he hated your damned boyfriend, and if the last thing he did was being the reason for your end then so be it. He’d be ready to die on that hill, he’d be ready to die on any hill, if it was for you. Pathetic, because unsure if you felt the same, though not embarrassed, never ashamed. Hyunjin decided maybe in that very moment that he’d fight, as long as you let him. That, as long as you visited him, the library, his studio, or merely your voice at night over the hushed speaker of his phone, when your boyfriend worked his life away, unapologetic of your own, that he would fight for you. For your love. For your heart.

“I made this. And you… were the inspiration, I guess. More like, the feeling I have… when I’m around you. The feeling we both had, I think… when we first touched at that party… God that sounds so stupid.”

He mumbled; you nearly asked him to repeat himself. Though the very moment you laid eyes upon the canvas every thought ceased to exist within you – you had never seen a painting, a work of art as delicate as the one he showed you, brought up from behind a pile of abstract looking pieces. It were hues upon hues, oranges and blues, light and dark composition, moulded together in a way you wondered how was humanly possible. Where one colour ended the next began, mixing where they met each other, connecting in strokes articulate, almost. As though the painting bore the ability to speak, telling you of its thoughts, of its longings and desires, of its love. Of Hyunjin’s love, ultimately – for he was the one who brought the painting to life. With you in thought, with you behind the lids of his eyes, with you before his very being.

And you knew from maybe that moment that it was him. That it had always been him, the empty space within you, the wishing part of you, the one asking for contentment, for delicateness, for love within your life. That it had been him before you ever grew to know him, that it had been him before you’d been placed on this earth, before you had walked the planet, altogether.

___ . ꫂ

“You have no right to be angry at me, and you know that.”

Not screaming though you weren’t too far from it at that point, trying to collect voice because volume surely wouldn’t help.

You had come home, step light and head high, Hyunjin and the past hour occupying your mind entirely – until you had reached your entrance door, made your way into it, and had met Chan on the sofa, angry, upset.

“You have forgotten our date.”

Words as simple as that, and they had made you furious. Furious because he was unbelievable – missed chances from his point and it was fine, the moment you gave him a taste of his own medicine, bitter and unpleasant he reacted. It was unfair on you, and he was crazy not to be seeing it. His hypocrisy, his idiocy.

And you had been impatient. Had nearly not wanted to fight or argue because you saw no point within, knowing your boyfriend well enough to predict no outcome would leave the both of you satisfied. That compromising throughout your relationship, throughout the time you’ve spent together could only do so much, could only work for as long as it has. That you have reached a breaking point, surely, finally.

“You have no right to be angry with me. I can’t even count on fingers how many you have missed and I won’t let you ride my dick for the one that skipped my mind today!!”

You and Chan stood opposite, so far away from each other, and it didn’t feel like enough. You wanted to get away, needed to, because he was suffocating. Suffocating and impossible, loved so dearly once and now hated all the more. You didn’t want to; hate was a word so strong it nearly scared you, though love was as well. The flame with Chan, if there’s ever been one, had burned out, had used out every last match it could find, every last piece of rotten wood it could burn. Left was a cold bundle of ash, asked to be taken out, to be thrown away, to be abandoned. To be finally left alone, because it was tired, exhausted of the constant tries of starting a fire, of getting it to burn again. Pained from the constant nagging, from the fruitless effort, from the overripe dejection.

“I am angry though!? We’ve promised to start to make an effort, and I’m really fucking trying here, I’ve cleared my fucking schedule for you, I’ve cancelled important meetings and appointments I needed to attend and I did for fucking you!? Fucking hell.”

Words intended to make you feel bad though you failed to. Couldn’t, not with a right mind. Though Chan wasn’t wrong in theory, you couldn’t bear the heart to truly feel bad for him; you long stopped to, should have long stopped pretending to. You looked at him, through eyes cold, senseless. You’ve lost all hope with him, all hope for him. There was nothing left within you to feed the love you’ve so carefully tended, nothing that would make you regret your thoughts, doubt them, demonize them. You looked at him and he was furious, shouting words meaningless to you. Telling you to speak, to explain to him, to make him understand. If this was the moment where it was over, where you’d part ways. Where you’d give up. It was nothing but meaningless to you. Didn’t feel bad for Chan even when you saw tears daring to stain his cheeks, his shirt. When his fingers ran through his hair, noticing how thin they’ve grown. Couldn’t feel bad for him when his body sank to the ground, missing the sofa by inches, making contact with cold hardness beneath him instead, letting head fall into hands, chocked sobs emerging from within him.

You couldn’t feel bad for him. Couldn’t because it had been you on that same spot by the sofa countless of times, the reason him, always. You who would choke sobs past your throat, embarrassed of how they sounded through the echo of the apartment, an apartment so lonely you had wondered if it was shared, in the first place. Apartment so lonely you had doubted you had a partner altogether, maybe only a fraction of your imagination, a fabrication of your deepest wishes. To be loved, and to love – you had been missing that even though committed, and you had decided now, watching, listening to your lost love cry, that it was the last time you would miss it. That this point, the breaking one, should have enrolled far longer – though now you’d make the best of it, with what you had.

“It’s over.”

Words so disturbingly loud you jumped at your own voice, jumped at Chan’s reaction to them – his head shot up momentarily, glistening eyes boring into yours, brows furrowed and lips quivering impossibly. He was furious, confused. Started begging, screaming. Seated in his space, not moving an inch from the spot by the sofa. Stayed screaming at you, begging right after, apologizing frantically, crying fat tears that rolled heavy down his cheeks. You couldn’t feel bad for him.

He stayed crying at the spot by the sofa when you started moving, finally, letting your body get used to the sensation, feeling heavy, feeling as though you stood a statue of stone by the kitchen counter, not as much as blinking. You moved towards your shoes, grabbing a jacket as you went, slipping into the right, then the left. Motions automatic, robotic. You couldn’t care about him. Grabbing keys, listening to his pleading, to his cries of your name, to his apologies. Words you’ve heard so very often you feared to grow null towards them, emotionless, careless. Words worth gold though Chan reduced them to mere dirt, nothing more than. Words you now heard behind you, hand on the handle, opening the door to welcome the cool from outside, before it engulfed you whole, before it consumed you fully and never bound to let you go, not for tonight.

___ . ꫂ

He was in love with you. When you had left his apartment, Hyunjin feeling a useless fool, corners of his mouth from eye to eye, the pounding in his heart had never seemed to stop. He had prepared himself dinner, had put on a show he didn’t pay the least attention to, he washed the dishes with a carelessness he never laid upon chores – and then his phone’d chimed up, ringing in a tone familiar, and his heart had nearly made its way out of its confines, snugly laid within the ribcage beneath his skin when he saw your name, a text from you. Maybe she felt me thinking about her, he thought, naively, and cringed at his very own theorization.

00: 18 >> hey, are you free? right now?

Questioning look on Hyunjin’s visage, and he’d responded he was, yet asking whether there was a problem – it was a bit after midnight, and though Hyunjin would welcome you with open arms regardless how late, regardless the reason, he worried. He knew you shared a place with your boyfriend – scoffing at the thought right as he had thought it, body flooding with dislike the very moment – and there was seemingly no reason for your search for Hyunjin, not after having spent half the day in company.

And then hope filled his being, occupied his lungs with so much weight it felt heavy to breathe, made his soul bloom in flowers most delicate, most spacious he was at risk to lose sight of all else – you had texted him in the middle of the night, though it was your supposed boyfriend you ought to be with at such hour. Him who you had come home to, in all likeliness – him, or the traces of him, the loneliness he left the thing you fled from. To Hyunjin, instead. To the guy you surely walked on eggshells around, the very guy your boyfriend must be hating insatiably. And yet you had texted him a little after midnight, and had rang his doorbell.

“I’m so sorry, I know how late it is, I just- I’m so sorry, oh my god.“

You stumbled into his apartment after Hyunjin had opened the door for you, apologies gushing past your lips like mantras. Reassuring you, offering you a seat by his sofa – the apartment was yet empty, roommates having texted they would stay over at their friends’ or partners’, and Hyunjin had been giddy about having the place for himself for a night, not remembering the last time he had had the chance to – yet he was giddier now that you joined his lonesome, though worry overshadowed any excitement Hyunjin could have bared.

You weren’t crying, though the puffiness of your eyes, the red around them, your bruised up lips revealed that you had been before reaching Hyunjin’s place. He knew the reason was the boyfriend, though he didn’t allow his jealousy, his messed-up mind to start a conversation – you would explain if you needed to, wouldn’t if you didn’t have the strength to. Hyunjin would wait it out either way, would grant a listening ear or a simple companion – he’d be whatever you needed him to be.

“God, I should have called Seungmin… I would have called him, I just- I felt like I needed to see you.”

Your voice frantic, though less now than before. Hyunjin sat beside you on the soft cushions, keeping a fair distance though it wasn’t possibly enough – your distraught heart pulling him forward, and he shifted to create more space – he would touch you if he didn’t, would lay a comforting hand on your shoulder, would embrace you in a hug. Figuring it was the last thing you needed he regained control against the waves of pressure your body shot his way, waited simply for your words to take on form, to start making sense.

“No… it’s okay, don’t worry about it… are you okay? Are you hurt, did something happen?”

Soothing words and far more soothing voice, and it nearly shot another heat of tears right past your eyes and onto the wetness of your cheeks. You felt bad, guilty for disturbing Hyunjin’s night, guiltier to come crying by his doorstep. Though there wasn’t an ounce of reluctance within him, it seemed, welcoming you as though it was a normality, as though it was a given for him to take you in. And maybe that made it all the worse, his kind-heartedness, his demeanour, his readiness for you. His drastic difference to you boyfriend – your ex –, his wholly different character, kinder, calmer, softer.

“No, I’m fine, I’m fine. I just… I ended it. With Chan. I couldn’t take it anymore, Hyunjin.”

Silent tears down your eyes, glistening against your skin like flooded rain in pavement cracks, tears as you materialized what had happened prior, as you made real a tragedy so relieving. Hyunjin shouldn’t be happy, oh did he feel bad for wanting to flip over the world in feeling of newly gained strength and energy, of satisfaction so grand he never thought possible. Felt so very bad for not feeling bad for you, not in ways one would think – it hurt his heart that you were pained, understood that despite his despise it was a relationship your own heart had been invested in, so all the more painful now that it was over. And yet he was relieved. For your very own sake, because he was aware of the hardships a one-sided love must have brought, undoubtedly. Screws in his brain rutting, and Hyunjin realized he must offer a place of comfort, despite his flawed thoughts, despite his evil mind. He only hoped you couldn’t read the relief in his eyes as you locked in his gaze with your teary one.

“Fuck, I’m… I’m so sorry. God, you must feel horrible, wait… let me give you a water, are you thirsty? If you have no place to stay you can sleep here, by the way, all the others are gone… you can have my bed and some clothes, just… feel at home… wait, let me give you that water—”

And you started sobbing. Tears gushing out as fast as Hyunjin’s words were, words of utter comfort, of compassion, of kindness. You damned him for it. Damned him for your fragile heart, for the way he was so easy to shake it. Damned him for making his way into your life so unknowingly, so quietly you hadn’t noticed the point where it’s been too late. Damned him for loving him as much as you did, for seeing him when thinking of deepest desires, of love in its very being. Looking at him, eyes milked up yet looking at him. He stared back, perplexed, halfway to the kitchen though stopped in his tracks at the sound of your cries, at the sight of your eyes, your face – he stood looking at your pain, unsure gaze meeting untempt one, seconds feeling like days, entirely too long while anticipating an answer or an explanation altogether, for sudden outburst, for sudden tears at act so kind.

“Stop… just stop being so nice to me.”

Standing up from your seat, legs feeling weak as they moved around the room. Heavy steps towards Hyunjin, careful not to get too close, not to meet his tide, a tide so strong you’d be pulled into wholly if movements grew too risked.

“Please stop being so nice to me, I- I’ll fall in love with you even more.”

Words cutting into every layer of tension that had laid itself upon the room, breaking every damn either of you had built tediously, shooting right through every wall, through every measure of safety you had kept around your hearts. You had taken the knife and stabbed times a million where it was most sensitive, had cut out oxygen from where it was more necessary. And you were close. Too close to him to feel at ease, too close to Hyunjin for his blood to pump in speed it would be healthy – mind and body racing, part of his brain encoding the meaning of your very confession, of your impossible words. Words so powerful it knocked him off his feet, words he never believed to be lucky enough to hear. You were wholly insane, and he was utterly in love.

Stepping closer to you, space between you buzzing, hissing, lighting up as though bodies were electrified, as though highest volts were coursing your veins, your skin. Stepped closer to watch your face paint in agony, so close he was tempted to wipe off the tears grazing your eyes. His hand raised, inches away from your cheek. You shifted, tilted your head to escape his touch. He stayed in position, arm raised, eyes boring into you.

“I can’t.”

Your voice so quiet he had to lip read, his hand ever in position, ready to soothe if you only gave the word. More and thicker tears rolled down the curve of your face, the perky bone, down the plush and onto the dip by your collarbone. He watched it, wished to kiss it away.

“I can’t get into a relationship right away. I know there’s… something… here…”, you let your hands sway through the space between your bodies, your hand breaking through resistance so strong you didn’t believe there was nothing than mere air between your bodies. Had to be something more, something deeper, “but me and Chan, it was so exhausting.”

A choked sob and you regained control, eyes losing his for only a moment before holding gaze anew – his own didn’t wander, every of his senses glued onto you as though you’d break apart if he only as though looked a different direction. He stood listening to you, aching heart and far more aching soul – he was willing to gift you anything, to morph into the very person you needed most this very moment, to become whatever you now desired. Understanding you and waiting to take him as he was, because he was willing to get hurt if it was for you. Tears wettening your shirt, apology staining the room – and Hyunjin’s hands engulfed your face, one big hand on either of your side, palms dampened in tears. The feeling that shot through your bodies was one neither of you could ignore, eyes softening, limbs stiffening, minds short circuiting – it needed Hyunjin a moment to find his words, though sure of them the sensation of touch, your skin against his had knocked out remaining rationality.

“I need you however you’ll let me have you.”

Blinking, his words like sweetest venom in your ear. His eyes expectant, his palms providing warmth, soothing touch to disrupted skin, to torn up heart. You tended to it, tended to him.

“Will you let me hurt you, then?”

And then your lips met. Hyunjin’s answer his mouth on your own, his hands in your hair. Your own finally brave enough to reciprocate touch – you had never sensed him before, not really. Had never sought out to find his touch directly, never actively, so. It was a sensation like no other, a million light bulbs, uncountable fireworks popping in colour underneath your skin, just where yours met his. Fingertips on his neck, by the back of his hair, by the perk of his shoulder. A million fireworks in blue and red and purple and green, sounding through your ears as though going off in this very room, in this very apartment, place so lonely, filled with two lost souls that had found each other finally, though maybe in the wrong moment. Two souls connected the way two snap hooks were, sealed within each other.

Hyunjin lead you through it. His mouth opened to a kiss of teeth and clatter, and you allowed him to, sunk into the feeling of him, his lips on yours, his hands on the vastness of your body. He wasn’t greedy with his moves, needy though as he stopped before his tongue protruded into mouth of yours, asking for permission silently until you granted allowance – only then he continued forward, wet muscles enchanting in a dance addicting, warmth spreading through the entireties of your bodies. You stood in place and kissed each other, a kiss so long awaited it might have been a dream, altogether. A kiss so surreal Hyunjin had to pull away or a moment quick, looking at you, looking at the whole of you – your blown out eyes, pleading, scared. Your lips red, your hands on his chest, his own by the curve of your waist. He had dreamed of this very moment throughout countless nights, when it was only him and his thoughts, and you within them. Had dreamed to kiss you under different circumstances, yet kiss you altogether; and it was sweeter, softer, better than any dream could fabricate.

Staggered breath from both of you as you took the other in, locking blown out eyes and holding trembling bodies, tending running minds, with as much as a look, a touch. And then lips found lips again. As though instinctively, as though it was the very thing, the only thing you’d been born to do. To wrap mouth around mouth, to allow tongues within, to graze upon teeth, to bite down on lips. Softly, experimentally, and then again, when wanted reaction followed.

Hyunjin started backing against the soft of the sofa as your hands made their way through his hair, messing up the softened locks to your liking. He let you, gratefully, toy at him as you wished. Let you explore his body as he explored yours, bunching up clothes in fists, so impatient, so eager. Because this has been all you’d ever wanted, the both of you, everything and more of what you’d desired, since the very moment you’d seen each other in the small of the convenience store, entirely unfamiliar then yet strangely connected. The embrace of the other, lips dancing in sync as though meant to be, hands dancing across body as though born to serve that very purpose.

Hyunjin crouched down, motioning your body softly, swiftly, so you sat on the edge of the couch, his body hovering above yours, darkening your view against the dim light of the living room. His lips never tore apart from your own – the sounds of wet against wet filled the small of the room, joined by softest sighs and gasps for air; you were left speechless, thoughtless with every additional touch, with every further exploring, the both of you. Hyunjin crouched down further, face to face with you and he went lower, yet, pulling your head with him, leaving you to be the one above him after he settled on his knees between your own. Hands on either of your thighs, caressing the plush, groping at the flesh when your fingers pulled against his darkened roots – you quickly discovered him to like it when you did.

Hyunjin broke the kiss, reluctant to let you go, meeting equally reluctant eyes, your lips chasing his for a moment until he connected them to the curve of your neck, minimally dampened in sweat – you must have walked to his place, only now he figured, feeling even deeper discontentment with your ex; until he remembered he was the one kissing you this very moment, his mouth the one attached to the softness of your neck, to the bit behind your ear, to the hollow part of your collarbone. He was the one whose hands steadied themselves on your waist, squeezing to his liking, kissing down to meet your chest. He was the reason you squirmed in his hold, in between his hands, on his couch, in his home – it was him, and Hyunjin would be a fool to grow salty, to let you go. To miss the opportunity, the way your ex did – Hyunjin wouldn’t possibly be so dumb, would give his heart to treat you the way you had deserved to be treated, the years passed. Would show you what love could be like, if it was him you were with.

You grew desperate. Loved the way Hyunjin’s mouth lapped at your body, loved his hands exploring it – but you needed more. Needed the very thing his whole demeanour pointed towards – his body caged between your legs, his hands on your thighs, moving closer to your sex, his face inching nearer towards it. Though he was taking his time. Sweet time to dote on you, to tend you, to love you. Hands only going as far as pulling your shirt high enough to litter your lower stomach in kisses most sweet, and you couldn’t take any more.

“Hyunjin... please.”

Your words as though brought him back to reality, if he had forgotten his surroundings before, merely focusing on you and your body, on the way you sounded, smelled and felt to the touch he now was grounded again, finding himself on his knees before you, finding your eyes looking at him with so much plead, so much desire he might just implode. He understood, your words of impatience, and he mumbled a quick apology, wasting no time now to jumble up the hem of your shirt, to busy his hands with the button of your jeans, hook his fingers into the waistband of your attires. Sliding off pants and underwear in one go after an approving look, and Hyunjin feared that truly, his heart would simply shoot up in a million tiny pieces and out of his body. The sight of you, hovering on the edge of the sofa, body leaned against the back of it, arms working as a prop behind you — lower half exposed, sinfully so; you were glistening in soft wetness, excitement lacing your features, the entirety of you body. It was better than Hyunjin could have ever dare to dream of. This very image having haunted his nightly fantasies ever so often, guilt in the pit of his stomach as his hand had lowered to ease himself every single time — and now he lived it, would no longer have to rely on his mind to fabricate most eager sceneries, wouldn’t need to rely on solely his hand to grand him sweetest release. You lay before him and in flesh, and his eyes glazed over with a sheen of adoration, with a hint of disbelief, maybe.

“So pretty. So, so pretty.”

Words leaving mouth quietly as his lips connected to the plush of your thighs, your body jumping at both the compliment and the sudden contact of warm lips to warmer skin. It felt foreign yet all too much familiar, too known a feeling to be strange, and your lids fluttered close, neck giving in, head lulling to the side. Hyunjin didn’t keep his eyes off you for a moment – watching you intently through deep lashed as he bit and sucked on the flesh of inner thighs, learning most sensitive zones, most erogenous spots. Mouth moving closer to your heat and your legs opened wider at his antics, feeling his lips on the bone connecting leg and pelvis, and your hips rolled forward – minimally yet enough to drive Hyunjin insane, seeing, sensing your need a matter unbelievable to him – you wanted him as much as he wanted you, and he everything but stayed calm at the mere thought alone. A feeling of increased ego, or simple relief – the both of you had walked on eggshells around the other, ever since the day at the store. Had felt feelings reciprocated yet had never been entirely sure, because too cowardly to ever ask – knowing surely now, the desire was of mutual nature – Hyunjin felt utterly helpless.

Mouth attaching to your slit, wetness covering him whole momentarily, hum leaving his throat and sending vibrations right through you, making your back arch into him this much more, your neck throwing back now, eyes shut and hand entangled in coloured hair. Pulling on it slightly to get soft sounds to leave his lips, to feel them against the sensitivity of your clit, to hear his satisfaction in satisfying you. His tongue lapping up your every bit, humming at the taste of you, at your smell. At the sight of you basking in his ministrations on you, focused and determined, wanting nothing more than to please you, the way he’s been dreaming of, imagining too many times to count. It was working, seemingly – shy whimpers leaving your mouth, self-conscious of being too loud, yet unable to deny the feeling Hyunjin provided you, gifted you with. Tongue dancing in kitten licks and sucks against your clit, or prodding at your entrance, and you’ve lost yourself further and further into him, both waiting for release, anticipating it yet dreading it, because the moment would be over, then. Wanted to bask in the impossible feeling of satisfaction that would never be enough only to not let the moment end, altogether – yet Hyunjin didn’t stop, kept driving you to said release, with licks against your slit, with kisses against your sensitivity, detaching only to litter wettened kisses against the vastness of your thighs. Your following whines of protest in loss of touch made Hyunjin chuckle and he went back to bask you in sweetest pleasure, fingers toying at your entrance, sliding into you when your hips bucked to allow him in, when impatient hands grabbed for his wrist, pleads rolling past your tongue in sheer holiest mantras.

Hyunjin was driven, wrist sore from curling up against the spot he had found after moments of searching, knowing he had when your back had arched so violently it had nearly scared him, jaw clacking in overuse though he was the last to care about any of it. Driven to drive you to where you needed him to, until you’d see white, until his very name would be the last thing on your mind, the feeling of him on you the very last feeling you’d die to feel. He watched you as your hands pulled him closer to your middle, as your hips rolled against his face, until you started clenching around the girth of his fingers, relentless pleasure in the way they never missed the softest spot so deep within you, until you started seeing stars. Only mumbling nonsense, utterly lost in the feeling of him, thighs contracting beside his head, your mind free from the frustrations of previous moments – wholly focused on your release that came in waves heavy, stormy, washing over you as Hyunjin sat careful to ride it out, not stopping movements until you told him to, until you squirmed in his hold in overstimulation. Your breath staggered, your chest heaving, your legs tired. Your eyes finding his in a moment of realisation, hearts skipping a beat as you fell back to reality – Hyunjin’s pupils were impossibly blown out, outlined erection visible even through the fabric of his worn-out sweatpants, breath as staggered as yours was. You ought to scream at the top of your lungs at the lust, the desire he watched you with – knowing he wanted you as much as you did, knowing he had felt the same about you the previous weeks where worry’d been all that’s been on your mind, worry about lost love, worry about the risks of finding a new one – he had been there and he had been feeling the very same you had, and you urged to kiss him at mere thought alone.

Pulled him up by his chin so your lips could meet in a kiss passionate, wet and laced with your release, drowned in your contentment, teeth clashing and hands groping wherever they could reach. Sneaking beneath shirts to pull them off seconds later, leaving you wholly naked, Hyunjin in only his sweats. And the kiss was never enough. The moment you wanted to pull away for air, or to ask Hyunjin for more, for his pants and underwear to be gone you simultaneously felt reluctant to, seemingly unable to break the kiss, to detach your lips from his. Having waited to have him like this for far too long it now seemed impossible to let him go for even a moment, if it meant burning with emptiness and desire a little while longer.

Though your bodies could only take so much. Hips longing for friction, yours as much as his, the confines of his pants only paining him, his impatience. And you didn’t let him hurt for too long. Started reaching down his body, tracing lines of abs and soft muscles to hook your fingers into the waistband of his undergarments, pleading for him to take them off, eyes anticipating, hands wanting. He complied gratefully, pulled off sweats and boxers in one go, adding them to the pile of carelessly tossed cloths before his eyes were back on your own – only looking, exchanged gaze as you waited for someone to do the crucial move, the one that would bound you as one for the remaining of time. Both of you too cowardly, hot breath hitting faces, sweat forming to dance on flushed skin.

“I can’t- I can only give you this much. I can’t give you want you want, not right now. I want you to know that, this is- this is the only thing I can give you.”

Voice on the verge of breaking, quiet in your throat, eyes filling with agony. You didn’t want to hurt him, wished to be able to love him the way he wanted you to, the way he deserved it. Wished that Chan wouldn’t have settled into your very being as persistent as he did, making him the only reason for your heart to be reluctant, scared to open up as wide anew.

Hyunjin’s thumb caressed the high of your cheek, head leaning closer, giving a peck to bruised up lips to lean his forehead against yours a moment later. Intimacy dizzying the both of you, closeness and proximity making it heart to reach for air.

“Then it’s enough for the time being. I’ll wait for you, I promise.”

A sigh out of your lungs and a nod, and Hyunjin started lining up with your entrance, precum and your wetness enough for his sinking into you to be utterly painless, for the stretch to be one of unbelievable pleasure. Fireworks setting off in your bodies anew, and only now the relentless pulling seemed to have faded, had turned into a feeling of passion, of pleasure in measures unknown to you times previous. You whimpered out momentarily, reciprocating Hyunjin’s deep groan against your ear, his stuttering hips as he bottomed out within you, so deep your body felt as helpless as they came. All five senses entirely focused on him, on the way he filled you – though for the very first time, you yet felt nostalgia rushing through you, as though this very moment had happened in a past life, as though your bodies, your souls had loved each other the very same way long before you had known it yourselves.

Setting a slow rhythm, embracing each other, holding your bodies close. Chests flushed, heartbeats in sync, hips meeting somewhere in the middle, where your cores connected. Sweat a sheet across your fleshes, breaths hitching in your throats, confessions spilling past kiss-bitten lips – it was connection you had craved for years on end, connection so deep it dared to scratch your heart. And in this very moment, one you’ve anticipated behind closed doors, in most private fantasies, you weren’t man and woman having sex, you were two people, two souls loving the other. Because it were your souls that loved, not your bodies. When you kissed, when you touched, when you let lips and hands dance across bodies where it was most desired your bodies expressed the love your very souls felt, because your souls themselves couldn’t possibly reveal such feelings. So, you took your bodies as a vessel, as a messenger for your love, your desire, your longing. Materialized what souls were feeling – and you grunted against the other, bodies growing more frantic, more feverous, reaching closer the point you so badly wanted to reach, together, in unison.

It didn’t take you much longer – one thrust, a second and a third until you whined out, letting Hyunjin know how close you were, through gritted tears and teary eyes, until he nodded and agreed, telling you, begging you to let go, for you were with him. And you did at the sound of his voice, waves of pleasure gushing over you before they took over Hyunjin, whines filling the stuffiness of the room, confessions following right after. Collapsing on top of you and staying within the hold of your arms – another dream he’s had, so all the more unbelievable, impossible now that he was living it. Shifting on the sofa so you lay comfortably, never letting go of bodies, holding close to warmth. Careless about your stickiness, your sweat covering the whole of you – careless because this moment, you were everything that mattered, Hyunjin was.

“I don’t wanna sleep yet. Because then this moment will pass.”

Chuckling in his hold, and you felt no different. Basking in the feeling of him, laying on his sofa, heartbreak and suffering so far away now you wondered if the last hour had even occurred, or if it was a fabricated memory for your mind to play with you, to hurt you. It was all gone in Hyunjin’s arms, with his body so close to yours. The pulling, the string that had seemed to be connecting your hearts, your bodies wherever you went, from the moment in the store had tightened the two of you together for eternity, finally, eventually. At it was a feeling good, of utter contentment. One of relief, because the matter had been sitting on your shoulders for far too long, for your own good, for your own health. Your hearts had finally found each other, rightfully so, like they were intended to before your bodies walked this earth – and you fell asleep to Hyunjin’s soft snoring, you in his heart and him in your own, ought to be bound with nothing to tear you apart.