----------

Jaehyun’s fists clenched and unclenched as he walked off the training field, sweat still cooling on his skin. He could deal with drills, with barked orders, with sore muscles that screamed for rest. But what he couldn’t deal with—what pushed him right to the edge—was her.

Y/N was leaning casually against the mess hall wall, legs bare in shorts that were far too small to be decent, her smile lazy and teasing as she aimed it at two of the younger privates carrying trays inside. A tilt of her head, a brush of her hand against one of their arms, and suddenly she had an extra carton of juice tucked under her arm like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Jaehyun looked away sharply, irritation spiking. The commander’s daughter, getting whatever she wanted with a flutter of lashes. No discipline, no respect.

As he headed for the showers, he caught a murmur of voices behind him. Two soldiers leaned against the lockers, smirking.

“She’s hot as hell, though.” “Yeah, but don’t waste your time. She never sleeps with anyone on base. Just teases.” “Figures. Still—worth a shot, right?”

Jaehyun’s jaw locked so tight it hurt. He hated how casually they spoke about her, hated that part of him almost agreed with them.

By the time the evening bell rang and his duty officially ended, he was already in a foul mood. The commander’s words echoed in his head—you’ll stay in her room from nineteen hundred until zero six thirty. Teach her respect if you can.

Jaehyun sighed heavily as he reached the door. Babysitting duty. Of all punishments, he had to get this.

He pushed it open and found her exactly as he expected: sprawled on her bed, PJ shorts riding up her thighs, one of her father’s old military shirts hanging loose on her frame, a book balanced in her lap. She didn’t even glance up.

“Oh,” she drawled, flipping a page, “you must be the new babysitter.”

Jaehyun’s teeth ground together. Exactly what he expected.

“I’m not your babysitter,” he muttered, his voice low, controlled. “This is my punishment. I take my job very seriously.”

“Maybe if you took it seriously,” she replied without missing a beat, eyes still on her book, “you would’ve brought the right uniform to practice.”

Jaehyun’s eye twitched. She didn’t even look at him, too absorbed in her page, dismissing him as if he weren’t worth the space he stood in.

This was going to be a long summer.

Jaehyun set his duffel down by the spare cot and straightened his shoulders, the way he did before reciting orders on the training field.

“Ground rules,” he said flatly.

That finally got her to look up. Y/N cocked a brow, book sliding down onto her lap as if this might be entertaining.

“You’re in this room from nineteen hundred until zero six thirty. No sneaking out. No yelling down the hall. No harassing the soldiers. And you—” he jabbed a finger at her “—show me some basic respect.”

She blinked once, then slowly leaned back against her pillows. “Cute speech,” she said, a lazy roll of her eyes following the words. “But you can try all you want, Jaehyun. I’ll still do whatever I want.”

The groan that left him was heavy, dragged straight from his chest. She was stubborn to her bones, every word from her mouth a challenge. He tugged at the collar of his uniform, feeling the sticky heat of summer clinging to his skin. With an aggravated sigh, he shrugged off his military jacket and tossed it onto the cot.

The thin white tank top underneath clung to his torso, exposing his broad chest and the curve of his biceps as he reached up to run a hand through his hair. He didn’t notice her stare at first—not until he caught the subtle bite of her lip, her gaze tracking the muscles in his arms before lifting to meet his eyes.

And then—she smiled. Sweet. Innocent. Deceptive.

“Nice,” she murmured, winking as if she hadn’t just crossed ten lines at once.

Jaehyun stared at her, tongue pushing against his cheek, disbelief prickling hot under his skin. How could someone be so shameless?

“I’m going to shower,” he muttered, his voice low and sharp as he turned away, because if he kept standing there, she’d see exactly how much she was getting under his skin.

When Jaehyun came back, his hair was still damp, leaving faint droplets down his neck and the chain of his dog tags glinting under the room’s light. He looked calm, collected, already stripped down to a clean shirt and joggers, the picture of someone who didn’t intend to waste another second on her nonsense.

But Y/N wasn’t about to let him off easy. She sat upright in her bed, hugging her knees, eyes fixed on him as he sat on the edge of his cot and ran a towel over his hair.

“So… you have a girlfriend?” she asked, tone casual but her gaze sharp, watching for the smallest flicker in his expression.

Jaehyun ignored her.

“Oh,” she tried again, tilting her head like she was genuinely curious. “Boyfriend?”

For the first time all night, he cracked. Just a fraction, the corner of his mouth tugging upward in something that almost resembled a smirk.

Y/N gasped, pointing like she’d just spotted a rare animal. “Oh my God. He smiles?”

Jaehyun finally looked at her, his expression flat but his eyes carrying the faintest gleam of amusement. She leaned into the moment, lashes batting, voice softening with a practiced innocence.

“Listen, why don’t we just make this easy? I’ll leave you alone, you can leave me alone, and we can just live our lives in peace?”

For a moment, it looked like he was considering it. His brows pinched slightly, his jaw tight, as though he might actually let her talk her way out of this.

Then his voice came, low and steady. “That would make your life really easy, wouldn’t it? I bet any other guy would buy this little innocent act. But this is the military, and I’m a soldier. Which means I follow my orders.” His gaze locked on hers, unwavering. “And mine were to teach you discipline and ensure you follow your father’s rules. So no. We have no deal.”

With that, he clicked the light off, the room slipping into shadows. He stretched out on his cot like the conversation was finished, utterly unbothered.

Y/N’s jaw dropped in disbelief, her mouth parting as though she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had told her no—and meant it.

------------

At exactly 6:30 a.m., Jaehyun’s alarm went off. He was up on the dot, movements precise, as though his body was programmed for military time. Across the room, Y/N groaned, dragging a pillow over her head.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled.

Jaehyun considered yanking the blanket right off her, forcing her awake, but he stopped himself. He didn’t need the image of her bare legs first thing in the morning—he saw them enough every night before falling asleep. With a muttered curse under his breath, he grabbed his boots and left.

The day was brutal. The commander was in a foul mood, barking orders until Jaehyun’s throat burned and his muscles screamed. Extra drills, extra push-ups, running laps until his body felt like it would collapse. By the time evening rolled around, Jaehyun was wound tight, aching for a moment of peace.

He opened the door to the room, sighing in relief—only for the breath to catch in his chest.

Y/N was sprawled across his bed, a book open in her hands. Her hair was loose, her legs curled comfortably under her as though she belonged there.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, dropping his bag louder than necessary.

She blinked innocently, looking around as though genuinely confused. “Oh, is this not my bed? Summer heat must be getting to me,” she said sweetly, slipping out of his sheets with deliberate slowness before dropping onto her own bed. A little smile tugged at her lips, the kind that told him she knew exactly what she was doing.

Jaehyun walked closer, his nose wrinkling as he realized his bed now smelled like her—warm, feminine, distracting. It made his chest tighten.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he muttered, more to himself than to her, before leaving the room quickly.

Behind him, Y/N giggled into her book, smug. He was a man, after all.

But her smile faltered the moment he came back.

This time, Jaehyun hadn’t bothered dressing in the bathroom. His hair was still wet, dark strands dripping over his temples as water tracked down his chest. He was shirtless, only a towel slung around his neck, his joggers hanging low enough to reveal the sharp line of his v-cut. His dog tags swung lightly with each movement, catching the dim light.

He didn’t spare her a glance, just scrubbed the towel over his head like it was any other night. But Y/N found herself frozen, book forgotten in her lap, her throat suddenly dry.

For the first time, she didn’t have a witty comment ready.

Y/N told herself she didn’t care. There were plenty of soldiers on base who were just as hot as Jaehyun—hotter, even. At least that’s what she lied to herself. She didn’t need the man assigned to be her babysitter. And besides, she had rules: she never slept with anyone under her father’s command. No, she snuck out when she needed release. She’d find someone outside the walls, at a party, someone who wouldn’t end up tangled with her father’s shadow. Maybe tonight would be the night.

She waited for Jaehyun’s breathing to even out, but it never came. He shifted in his bed, restless, her scent clinging to his sheets, seeping into his skin. And she grew restless too.

Finally, Y/N slipped out of bed, pulling on a cardigan over her tank top and shorts. “I need some air,” she muttered, not caring if he heard. She padded outside and sat on the wooden steps, curling her legs to her chest, the night air cool against her skin. The crickets sang in the distance, and for the first time all day, she felt like she could breathe.

The wood creaked behind her. She turned quickly, heart stuttering, only to see Jaehyun leaning against the support beam, arms folded, gaze tipped upward toward the stars.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked casually.

“It’s hard to sleep when a stranger is in your room,” Y/N shot back, her tone sharp.

For once, Jaehyun smiled. “I think this is the first time you’ve been honest with me.”

She scoffed, looking back out at the dark horizon.

“You know,” he said as he pushed off the beam and sat beside her, his voice quieter now, “if you behaved, your father wouldn’t have assigned a babysitter in the first place.”

Y/N stiffened. He was too close, his warmth brushing her side, the faint musky scent of his body lotion threading through the night air.

“Yeah, I’m sure my dad would love that,” she snapped. “If I obeyed his every word, like one of his precious soldiers. Like you. But you wouldn’t get it.”

Jaehyun studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “You’re right. I never thought about it like that.” His voice had lost its edge. “He treats you like a soldier, not his daughter… that must be hard.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, caught off guard by the way his words slipped under her skin. She turned, looking at him properly, his profile sharp in the moonlight, eyes fixed on the sky. It unsettled her, how genuine he sounded.

She stood abruptly, brushing off her cardigan. “I’m going back to bed,” she muttered, refusing to let the softness linger.

And without waiting for him to answer, she disappeared inside, leaving him on the steps, still staring at the stars.

----------

For the next few days, Y/N avoided Jaehyun like the plague. She didn’t linger in the hallways, didn’t bother picking little fights with him, didn’t even look his way unless she absolutely had to. She’d slip into their shared room around nine each night, crawl straight into bed, and turn her back to him without so much as a word.

It bothered him more than he wanted to admit. The silence should’ve been a relief—she wasn’t sneaking out, she wasn’t running her mouth, she wasn’t making his punishment harder than it already was. But Jaehyun found himself listening for her voice, her snark, her laughter. And when it didn’t come, he told himself he didn’t care. As long as she was behaving, that’s all that mattered.

At least, that’s what he repeated like a mantra.

Until he saw her again.

She was back to her old tricks, leaning against the counter of the mess hall with that saccharine smile, flirting with whoever was on serving duty that day. Jaehyun watched her slip an extra pastry onto her tray with a triumphant grin, her laugh carrying over the din of the hall.

The tables were packed, the only open seats clustered around where Jaehyun and his bandmates sat. Y/N hesitated for half a second before sliding into a spot a couple of chairs away from him. Not next to him, never next to him.

She dove straight into conversation with the soldiers around her, teasing, bantering, her eyes bright with mischief. She had them hooked in minutes—Jaehyun couldn’t deny that. There was something magnetic about her, and it made his jaw clench.

But the strangest part? She wasn’t the only one pulling attention. He felt it too, the way the group’s energy kept circling back to him. His friends leaned in when he spoke, hung on to his words like every offhand joke was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. Jaehyun didn’t even have to try; the easy charm, the natural pull, it just happened.

Y/N noticed. Of course she did. She sat there, stabbing at the meat on her tray harder than necessary, sneaking glances she immediately regretted. Jaehyun had that boyish grin on, the kind of smile that softened all his sharp edges and made people want to keep looking. She could only imagine what he was like outside the base—probably popular with every woman in a ten-mile radius, soaking up attention without even asking for it.

She shook her head, stabbing again at the unyielding hunk of food. None of her business. She didn’t care.

No, what she needed was to get laid before this tension drove her insane.

Y/N had decided—if she wanted Jaehyun out of her room, if she wanted her freedom back, she’d have to drive him crazy. Make him so uncomfortable he’d be begging her father to put someone else on night duty. Someone who didn’t get under her skin the way he did.

That night, the room was quiet. She sat cross-legged on her bed with a book propped open, pretending to be absorbed in the lines, though she was very aware of Jaehyun stretched out on the single bed across from her, scrolling silently through his phone.

Her lips curved. Time to test him.

“It’s too hot,” she announced casually, slipping a finger under the hem of her shirt. “I need to change.”

Jaehyun didn’t even glance up, just hummed in acknowledgment, scrolling on. That only spurred her on.

She stood, turned deliberately away from him, and peeled the shirt over her head. No bra underneath.

She heard rather than saw his reaction—the sharp intake of breath, the faint rustle as he flinched back like he’d been struck.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice cracked with disbelief, the kind of tone he usually reserved for soldiers screwing up drills.

Y/N turned halfway, letting him catch the outline of her bare shoulders and breast, the subtle smirk on her face. “What? It’s hot. I told you I was changing.”

“You could’ve asked me to leave the room.” He’d whipped around by now, staring stubbornly at the wall, ears tinged red.

She bit her lip, suppressing a laugh. “Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen a girl without a shirt before.”

“That’s not the point,” Jaehyun growled, his knuckles white around his phone as if it were the only thing tethering him to control. “You don’t just—” He cut himself off, jaw tightening. “Just put another shirt on.”

Y/N slipped leisurely into a fresh tank top, enjoying every second of his discomfort. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“It’s my room,” Y/N announced with a little huff, standing in the doorway like she owned the place. “I shouldn’t need to ask you to do anything—you should just read my mind and do it.”

Jae turned his head slowly, blinking at her like she’d grown a second head. “You’ve lost it,” he muttered.

But she only smiled sweetly, taking her time crossing the room. She perched herself right on the edge of his bed, the mattress dipping under her weight.

“Y/N.” His voice dropped, firm, warning. “Off. Get off my bed and go to your own.”

She tilted her head, looking far too innocent. “I just have one question, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Jae exhaled, shoulders sinking. “Fine. What?”

Her lashes lowered, and her lips curved with mischief. “Am I your type?”

For a second, he just stared. His jaw actually dropped. “What—what normal person asks that?”

“I think we both know I’m far from normal,” she said lightly, her smile sharper now. “That’s what growing up on a base with limited human interaction does to a young woman. So…” She leaned in, eyes catching his. “Am I your type?”

He stuttered, words tangling. “Go—go to bed. Now, Y/N.”

Her laugh was soft, airy, sliding under his skin like a taunt. She placed one delicate hand on his chest, batting her lashes up at him. “But just so you know…” Her voice dipped, teasing. “…you’re exactly my type.”

Jae’s reaction was immediate. He shot to his feet, gripping her wrist, and tugged her off his bed with a force that made her stumble. He dragged her across the room, depositing her onto her own mattress. The blankets came down hard around her as he tucked them in roughly, trapping her beneath the weight so she couldn’t spring back up.

“Stop fucking with me and go to bed,” he bit out, voice rougher than he intended.

Y/N only giggled, wriggling under the cocoon he’d made. The sound was soft, knowing—she’d gotten under his skin, and she knew it.

-------------

Later that night, Y/N slipped out with the kind of practiced ease that only came from years of doing the exact same thing. Her movements were quiet, precise—door latch eased open, boots carried in one hand, tube top and skirt pulled from their hiding spot beneath her bed. She’d been sneaking off base since she was sixteen, meeting friends, sneaking into parties, kissing boys behind buildings. Jaehyun being in her room now didn’t change the fact that she knew every shadow and blind spot like the back of her hand.

Once outside, she ducked behind the barracks, pulling on her shoes and touching up with concealer, a hint of blush, mascara. The mirror on her phone was enough; she knew how to make herself look alive again after the monotony of base life.

Her best friend MJ was waiting by the old truck that always coughed before it started. “Finally,” MJ grinned, tugging her close in a quick hug. “Thought lover boy had you on lockdown.”

“Please,” Y/N scoffed, climbing in. “He was dead asleep before I even finished changing. Military robot through and through.”

They drove off into the night, music blasting low through the speakers, until they hit the little off-base dive where everyone their age seemed to end up eventually. Inside, the place was hazy, lit up by neon signs, a dance floor packed with bodies. Y/N and MJ moved together easily, laughing, their arms swinging as they lost themselves in the beat.

Halfway through, Y/N leaned close, her lips brushing MJ’s ear over the music. “The new soldier watching after me? He’s so hot. Like… unfairly hot. I swear, I need to get laid.”

MJ threw her head back with a laugh. “So do it. Screw that stupid rule of yours about not hooking up with base guys. If it’s just a one-time thing, who cares?”

Y/N wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. “Too messy. Last thing I need is him catching hell because of me. I don’t want him in trouble just for… y’know.”

“For rearranging your spine?” MJ teased, making Y/N smack her arm.

“Shut up,” she giggled, taking another sip of her drink.

Still, as the night wore on, her eyes wandered. She flirted with a couple guys at the bar, exchanged easy smiles on the dance floor, but none of them gave her that spark. None of them made her feel that magnetic pull she hated herself for associating with Jaehyun.

By the time MJ offered her a ride back, Y/N didn’t protest. She slipped back through the gates as dawn started to gray the horizon, the adrenaline of her secret night buzzing in her veins. She’d gotten away with it again.

Y/N slipped back into the room at six, thirty minutes before Jaehyun’s alarm usually went off. Her heart was racing as she shut the door softly, already peeling off her clothes and changing into her sleep shirt. The rush of the night was still in her veins—the music, the dancing, the flirting—but she moved with quiet precision, slipping beneath the blankets and exhaling when her head hit the pillow. She’d made it.

Or so she thought.

“Had fun?”

Her entire body jolted, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. She sat up instantly, eyes snapping toward the corner of the room where Jaehyun’s voice came from. He was standing by his bed, already awake, arms crossed loosely over his chest like he’d been waiting.

“I—” Y/N forced a laugh, waving her hand like he was ridiculous. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jaehyun’s tone was low, steady, and far too calm. He walked toward her slowly, every step deliberate, until he was towering over her. She was still half-tucked into the blankets, her head tilted back on the pillow to look up at him, and the way his shadow fell over her made her throat tighten.

He crouched slightly, his hand coming up before she could move. Warm, calloused fingers cupped her cheek, tilting her face toward him. His thumb dragged across her bottom lip—slow, unhurried, almost sensual. His eyes stayed locked on hers, sharp and unreadable.

“You wear lipstick to bed every night?” His grin curved, amused but edged with something darker.

Her breath caught. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she slapped his hand away, scowling. “You’re delusional.”

Jaehyun only leaned closer, his mouth brushing the shell of her ear. His voice dropped into a husky whisper that sent a shiver running straight down her spine.

“I hope you had fun, sweetheart. Because that’s the last time you’re ever sneaking out.”

When he pulled back, she was still frozen, the air around her charged, her body betraying her with a trembling she couldn’t stop.

----------

The soldiers’ boots pounded against the dirt, circling the lake in unison, morning air still damp and heavy with mist. Jaehyun’s chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, sweat already clinging to his skin, his muscles burning but his pace strong.

At the water’s edge sat Y/N, legs dangling in the cool lake, her toes breaking the glassy surface. She looked unbothered, content, her lips curved in a little smile as she watched him from afar. Jaehyun’s jaw tightened—she was too damn carefree.

“Dismissed!” the commander barked. The soldiers slowed, catching their breath as they began dispersing toward the mess hall.

“Except you, Jaehyun.”

He stopped mid-step, turning back to face the older man. His pulse picked up, not from exertion but from the sharp look the commander gave him.

“The entire point of you staying with Y/N,” the commander said lowly, “is so she doesn’t sneak out. And yet… seems like she managed to last night.”

Jaehyun’s stomach sank, though his face stayed neutral. “I already spoke to her about it. It won’t happen again.”

The commander studied him for a moment, then gave a curt nod. “Very well. Three extra laps around the lake for the slip-up. Don’t let it happen twice.”

“Yes, sir.” Jaehyun gritted his teeth and set off again, legs already heavy but determination carrying him forward. He kept his eyes on the path ahead, until movement by the shore pulled his focus.

Y/N.

He blinked, thrown off stride. Her top and shorts were folded in a heap at the edge of the bank, and there she was in the water—no straps, no fabric, just her bare shoulders breaking the surface as she treaded lazily.

Jaehyun froze for half a second, heart lurching into his throat. She was skinny dipping. In broad daylight.

He darted a glance around—mess hall was full, drills were over. It was just the two of them.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, forcing himself forward again. He needed to focus, to get through his punishment, not her antics. He pushed harder into his run, the steady rhythm of his breathing the only thing keeping his thoughts in check.

Then it came.

A sharp splash, followed by Y/N’s voice cutting across the lake.

“Jaehyun! Help!”

His head snapped to the water, blood running cold as he saw her struggling, her arms flailing before she disappeared under the surface.

The panic in her voice cut through Jaehyun like a blade. His body moved before thought—jacket stripped and tossed to the ground, boots kicking up dirt as he dove headfirst into the lake. The cold swallowed him whole, but he didn’t care.

His arms cut through the water in strong strokes until he reached her, catching her just as she went under again. Y/N gasped when he wrapped her securely in his arms, lifting her bridal style against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he muttered, his voice low but firm, steady even as his heart thundered.

She clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as he swam back, every motion powerful and controlled. When his feet finally touched the sandy bottom near the shore, he carried her through the shallows, water dripping off them both.

By the time he laid her down gently on the grass, Jaehyun was breathless—not from the swim, but from the rush of adrenaline still coursing through him. He grabbed his discarded jacket, thick and warm, and draped it firmly over her trembling body.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, crouching over her, sincerity etched in every line of his face.

Y/N winced, clutching her thigh. “I—I got a cramp in my leg. Couldn’t… couldn’t move.”

His gaze softened, jaw tight as he nodded. Without hesitation, his hands moved to her leg, sliding the jacket down just enough to press his palm against the tense muscle, beginning to knead.

“Point your toes toward you,” he instructed, voice calm, controlled, though his fingertips burned against her damp skin. “Breathe through it. I’ve got you.”

Y/N tried to obey, wincing again, the jacket slipping down her shoulder just slightly, exposing damp skin glistening in the sun. Jaehyun quickly looked away, focusing harder on massaging the cramp out, but the image seared into his mind.

Her breathing slowly steadied, the tightness in her leg easing under his touch. She blinked up at him, wet lashes sticking together, lips parted.

“You saved me,” she whispered.

Jaehyun’s throat bobbed. “You scared the shit out of me.”

The heavy thud of boots pounded against the earth, and within seconds, her father came rushing up the path, his voice sharp with panic.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

Before Jaehyun could answer, Y/N beat him to it, sitting half-wrapped in his jacket, damp hair clinging to her cheeks. “It’s fine, Dad. I just—I got a cramp while swimming. Jaehyun pulled me out.”

Jaehyun kept his arm firm around her shoulders, tugging his jacket tighter to keep her warm and unexposed. He didn’t miss the way her father’s chest lifted with relief before his expression hardened again.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” her father said, his tone brisk but thick with something gentler beneath. “And you should be thanking Jaehyun. You’re lucky he was here. Though you wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t been sneaking off and disobeying orders in the first place. You can’t just do whatever you want here, Y/N. This is a military base.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, her voice sharp, defensive. “I know, Dad. I’m a prisoner here, remember?”

Her father stilled, eyes softening at her words. The lines in his face deepened, and his voice dropped. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But this… this is my job. And I’m sorry if this is the only life I can give you.”

Y/N’s chest squeezed painfully. She tried to push herself up, the apology catching on her lips. “Dad, wait—I didn’t mean it like that—”

But her leg gave out, and Jaehyun was still holding her firmly in place, his jacket locked around her trembling frame.

“Shh, easy,” he murmured, steady as ever.

Her throat tightened, a tear slipping down her cheek before she could stop it. She turned toward Jaehyun, desperate, her voice breaking. “Jaehyun, I didn’t mean it like that. You know that, right?”

He caught her gaze, calm and unwavering, his hand squeezing her shoulder. His voice was low, soothing, like steel wrapped in velvet.

“Hey, hey. Just calm down for a second. He knows. I know. It’s alright. Just take it easy.”

Her lip wobbled, but the steadiness in his tone grounded her. She sank back against his jacket, letting herself breathe again, even as her father stood silently, the air thick with words none of them knew how to say.

Jaehyun carried her all the way back to her room, her arms looped around his shoulders, face pressed into the soaked fabric of his chest. The scent of lake water clung to both of them, mingling with the faint musk of his skin. He set her down gently on the edge of the bed, his voice low, practical, even though his pulse was still racing.

“You should shower first,” he murmured. “I’ll put the hot water on.”

But when he tried to ease her away, her arms only clung tighter, refusing to let go. The warmth of her pressed against him, her breath feathering his skin, made something in him tighten. His hand hesitated, then carefully moved her wet hair out of her face. For a heartbeat, their eyes met—faces closer than they had ever been.

Jaehyun’s throat worked as if he had something to say, but he swallowed it back, forcing himself to pull away. He turned sharply, walking into the bathroom to turn on the water.

A knock came at the door. Y/N’s father stood there, arms full of fresh clothes still warm from the dryer. He set them down on the bed with quiet efficiency.

“Dad,” Y/N blurted, her voice small, thick with guilt. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier.”

Her father softened, giving her the kind of smile only a parent could. “I know, sweetheart. But I do wish I could give you a better life than this.”

Tears pricked her eyes as she shook her head. “No, my life is perfect. I’m well fed, I have friends here, I have a lot of free time for my hobbies… I promise I’m happy. You’ve given me everything and more.”

His jaw tightened as if holding back more emotion than he wanted to show. He bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of her damp hair, then turned and quietly walked out, muttering how he's glad she's okay.

When Jaehyun came back in, he didn’t say a word about what he might have overheard. He just crouched down, steady hands helping her to her feet. He guided her to the bathroom door, then stopped, lingering only a second too long before forcing himself to let go.

“Shower. Get warm,” he said, voice a little rougher than usual.

She gave the faintest nod and slipped inside. The door clicked against the frame but didn’t close all the way, left slightly ajar. Jaehyun turned to leave, but his eyes flickered without meaning to.

Just for a moment, he caught a glimpse—her fingers sliding his heavy jacket off her shoulders, the fabric sliding down to reveal bare skin, delicate collarbones, the curve of her back. Heat slammed through him.

He spun his head away so fast it almost hurt, cursing himself under his breath. He was a soldier. She was the commander’s daughter. He needed to get a fucking grip.

-----------

Jaehyun woke up the next morning to find Y/N sitting on the side of his bed. He shot upright so fast his head nearly collided with hers.

“What are you doing? Why are you sitting on my bed?” he demanded, voice groggy but sharp with surprise.

“Why did you save me?” Y/N asked, tilting her head.

“What do you mean? Wouldn’t you if you saw someone drowning?”

“Okay, relax. I wasn’t drowning. I could’ve saved myself.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. That’s why you were screaming my name,” Jaehyun shot back, smirking.

Y/N let out a small smirk of her own. “Do not make a dirty joke right now.”

Before he could, she leaned in slowly and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Well… thanks for saving me then.”

Jaehyun knew she was being sincere—her eyes gave that away—but he also knew Y/N was deliberately trying to drive him crazy. And the worst part was… it was working.

“So…” Y/N started slowly, drawing the word out as she tilted her head, studying his face like she was looking for cracks in his armor. “You never answered my girlfriend question before.”

Jaehyun cracked one eye open, his voice still husky from sleep. “I don’t answer personal questions.”

She gasped dramatically, hand flying to her chest. “That’s not personal. That’s basic. Like—are you seeing anyone? Married with three secret kids? Engaged to the sea or something?”

He shut his eyes again, shifting to lie back down, his arm folding under his head. “Engaged to the sea sounds more realistic than me having kids.”

Y/N bit her lip to hide her grin. “Fine. If you won’t tell me that, when was the last time you had sex?”

Both of his eyes snapped open this time. He turned his head to stare at her like she’d grown another head. “There’s something wrong with you. You know that, right?”

“Oh, come on,” she teased, nudging his shoulder. “It’s just a question. People talk about this stuff all the time.”

“Not at six in the morning.” His voice was flat, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Fine, we’ll reschedule. I’ll ask again at lunch.”

He groaned, dragging his hand down his face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re avoiding.” She leaned closer, eyes glinting with mischief. “Was it months ago? Years? Are you secretly a monk?”

Jaehyun let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I know I’m funny.” She smirked. “And if you weren’t so busy pretending to be mysterious, you’d admit I’m right.”

He rolled onto his side to face her, one brow arched, his smirk mirroring hers. “What you really want to know is if I’m sleeping with anyone right now.”

Her throat tightened, but she forced her expression to stay cool. “Well, if you’re offering that information, I won’t stop you.”

“Nice try,” he said, amused.

Y/N tilted her chin. “Well, I could be sleeping with someone right now.”

Jaehyun’s smirk deepened, lazy and cutting. “You wouldn’t be so jumpy and high-strung if you were.”

Her mouth fell open. She smacked his chest, scandalized. “You’re such an ass.”

He chuckled, the sound low in his throat, and leaned back, folding his arm under his head again. “And you’re too easy to rile up.”

She wanted to argue, but his alarm went off, blaring through the room. Jaehyun sighed, reaching over to silence it, then swung his legs off the bed. On his way up, he placed a hand on her arm to ease her off the mattress, the gesture so casual it almost didn’t register.

Almost.

Because the moment his hand left her skin, Y/N felt the phantom of it lingering, her whole body humming from the simple touch. She tried to act unaffected, swinging her legs idly, but her pulse betrayed her.

Jaehyun stretched, running a hand through his messy hair like he hadn’t just driven her insane without even trying. “You’re trouble,” he muttered, mostly to himself, but she caught it.

And smiled.

------------

The commander called Jaehyun into his office early that morning, his expression as stiff as ever.

“Escort Y/N off base. She’s got an eye appointment in town,” he ordered, handing him the papers.

“Yes, sir,” Jaehyun replied, keeping his voice neutral even though he already knew what this meant—hours of wrangling her through distractions.

Sure enough, the second they left the base and Y/N saw the little coffee shop on the corner, her whole body lit up like a child in a toy store.

“Oh my god, look at that place! We have to stop—please?” she begged, tugging at his sleeve before he could even protest.

“We’re going to be late,” Jaehyun said flatly, already seeing her eyes glaze over at the display of pastries in the window.

“It’ll only take five minutes,” she promised, pressing her hands together in mock prayer.

Five minutes turned into fifteen, with Y/N sipping happily from an iced latte while Jaehyun stood by the door like a statue. By the time she started lingering over the shelves of coffee beans and trinkets, he’d had enough. With a sharp exhale, he caught her arm, steering her firmly out of the shop.

“Hey—!” she started, but the look he shot her had her snapping her mouth shut.

They made it to the doctor just in time, and Y/N breezed through her appointment, chatting away as though she hadn’t nearly made them late. On their way out, the sun hit hard overhead, and she immediately wilted with a dramatic sigh.

“It’s too hot. We’re getting ice cream,” she declared, as if it were an order.

“Y/N—” Jaehyun pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Pleaseee?” she pouted up at him, tugging his sleeve again.

He blew out a heavy sigh. “Fine.”

Moments later, they were inside a tiny ice cream parlor, the old fan in the corner doing little to fight the heat. Y/N all but skipped to the counter, her eyes sparkling as she chose a strawberry cone. Jaehyun ordered vanilla without a word.

When she reached into her purse to pay, his hand shot out faster, dropping the bills on the counter before she could.

“Hey!” she protested, glaring at him.

“The girl never pays,” Jaehyun said firmly, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “What do you take me as?”

Y/N blinked, then smirked slowly as she took her first lick of strawberry. “Pretty sure that only applies on a date.”

Jaehyun froze, cone halfway to his lips. His eyes flicked to hers, narrowing, but the tips of his ears gave him away.

“Who said this was a date?” he asked, voice steady but tight.

“You just did,” she shot back, smug as ever, tongue curling around her ice cream as if to taunt him.

“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered, finally taking a bite of his vanilla like it could cool his blood.

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Y/N’s grin was wicked, her eyes sparkling with triumph.

Behind the counter, the shop owner chuckled quietly to herself, wiping down the counter as she watched them bicker. To her, it looked exactly like a young couple in the middle of their first summer together—him stiff and flustered, her teasing and relentless.

Jaehyun caught the shop owner’s knowing smile and felt his jaw tighten. He turned back to Y/N, who was clearly enjoying every second of his discomfort, and muttered under his breath, “You’re impossible.”

“And you like it,” she replied sweetly, licking her cone.

Outside the shop, Y/N was practically skipping, strawberry cone in hand, while Jaehyun followed beside her, stiff as ever.

She took a playful bite, then tilted her head. “Want a lick?”

He shot her a look. “No.”

“C’mon,” she sing-songed, holding the cone closer to him. “You should at least try it—sharing is caring.”

Jaehyun leaned away like it was a weapon. “You’re ridiculous.”

Y/N only grinned, batting her lashes. “Fine. Then let me try yours.”

Before he could react, she leaned in, stealing a small lick from the top of his vanilla cone. She let her tongue linger a little too long before pulling back with a mischievous smile. “Mmm. Not bad.”

Jaehyun just stared at her, frozen, ears burning. She knew she’d gotten to him—the way he cleared his throat and refused to meet her eyes was enough proof.

By the time they reached the subway, rush hour had flooded the platform. The train car they stepped into was packed wall to wall, bodies pressed together.

Y/N stiffened instantly, her smile faltering as people jostled her shoulders and elbows. She pressed back against the wall of the car, her strawberry cone long gone, eyes darting everywhere like she was trying to pretend it didn’t bother her.

Jaehyun noticed right away. He frowned, shifting so he stood directly in front of her. Then, without a word, he lifted both arms and planted his hands firmly against the wall on either side of her head.

Boxing her in.

Creating a barrier no one else could breach.

Y/N blinked up at him, wide-eyed, her lips parting in surprise. The press of strangers didn’t feel so suffocating now—not with him shielding her. She slowly exhaled, her shoulders relaxing.

Her hands lifted almost without thought, fingers brushing against the hard lines of his forearms. The muscles tensed under her touch, and she felt her pulse race at the intimacy of it.

She tilted her chin, meeting his gaze. Their bodies were so close now, his chest just inches from hers.

“I can breathe a little easier like this,” she admitted softly.

Jaehyun swallowed, his jaw tight, his eyes flickering from her lips back up to her eyes. “Good,” he muttered, though his voice came out lower than he meant it to.

Y/N’s heart was pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. Being surrounded by people should’ve been overwhelming—but with his arms caging her in like that, the only thing she could feel was him.

-------------

They stood by the gate after their day out, the base lights throwing long shadows across the pavement. The air smelled faintly of dust and cut grass; somewhere behind them someone was laughing, the sound swallowed by the evening. Y/N stopped dead, shoulders sagging as she looked in at the place that had shaped her whole life. She sighed, a soft, private sound.

“You gonna go in?” Jaehyun asked, hands shoved into his pockets, trying to keep his voice even.

She didn’t turn. “I wish I could have more days like this,” she said, voice small. “Days that aren’t just…this.” She gestured, helpless, at the base—the rules, the routine, the life she’d never chosen.

“You’ll have plenty,” Jaehyun said, the words slipping out because they were the easiest, safest thing to offer.

“No.” Her answer was immediate, a hard little break in the softness. “I won’t. This is my life.” She let the words hang between them. “You’ve only got three months left. Then you’re discharged. You’ll go back to your career, meet a girl, fall in love… and I’ll still be here. Stuck. You’ll forget. You’ll—” Her voice caught. “You’ll forget all about me.”

The image hit him like a physical thing—her, small and fierce and terrified of being left behind—and it landed in him with a weight that had nothing to do with the uniform he still wore.

“I could never forget about you.” The words came out before he had time to think, raw and immediate, louder than he’d intended.

Y/N’s shoulders stilled. She turned finally, slow, as if moving through water, and looked at him. For once there was no flippant retort on her lips, no teasing deflection—only something raw and astonished in her gaze.

He hadn’t meant to say it. He did mean it. And then, beneath the rush and the heat of the moment, another thought unfurled through him so quietly it felt like it belonged to someone else: I might already be in love with you.

The thought shocked him more than the confession. It sat there, undeniable and terrible in its tenderness. He almost swallowed it back. He almost pretended it had never happened.

Instead, he let himself stand in that half-second of honesty. His mouth opened as if to take the thought back, then closed. The glow from the gate lights picked out the line of his jaw, the tension there.

Y/N’s lip trembled—was that a laugh or a sob?—and for a breathless moment they both just looked at each other, the summer heat and the late-hour quiet making everything feel more fragile.

“Jaehyun…” she breathed, the name a question, an accusation, a dare.

He should have lied and said something safe. He should have told her it was nonsense, a soldier’s obligation twisted into an accidental vow. But the truth had already slipped free, and he found he couldn’t pack it back in his chest.

“I—” He swallowed, the word losing its shape. “I don’t know what will happen after three months,” he said finally, steadier than he felt. “But I do know this: I don’t want to forget you. Not ever.”

Her eyes searched his face, trying to read the man who slept in the cot across from her every night, and maybe, too, the man who had just saved her life. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the hard line around her mouth softened.

They stood like that a long time—two people poised on the edge of something that had been building for weeks, held together by a thread as thin and stubborn as truth. In the end, neither of them moved to break it; neither of them offered the next step. Instead they turned and walked back through the gate together, shoulders almost touching, the silence between them fuller now, charged in a way that made every small sound – the scrape of their boots, the rustle of his uniform – feel like the beginning of a confession.

--------------

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sneak peak of the next part:

“You’re making me sound like I’m some lovesick, desperate girl who can’t find love and is throwing herself at the soldier babysitter who’s forced to stay in her room.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, her shoulders rigid. “I’m not saying it again, Jaehyun. Forget about it.”

The silence that followed was deafening. His chest tightened, the sting of her words hitting harder than he expected. Babysitter. Forced. She couldn’t really believe that, could she?

Slowly, Jaehyun rose from his cot. His bare feet pressed against the cool floor as he stood tall, staring at her across the dim room. His jaw clenched.

“Don’t ever say that again,” he said low, the weight in his voice leaving no room for argument.

Y/n froze, her lips parting, but no sound came out. The only light between them was the silver moon glow, and in it, she could see his eyes—hard, unwavering, but beneath it all, something burning.

Her chest heaved, her hands shaking at her sides. She couldn’t take it anymore. Every time she opened up to him, every time she let herself think maybe this time he’ll prove me wrong, he built another wall higher than the last.

“You don’t care about me,” she spat, though her voice wavered, betraying how much it hurt her to even say the words out loud. “So stop pretending like you do.”

You shook your head vehemently, fixing the tall boy with a dagger-like stare that he seemed completely unfazed by. “I demand a redraw.”

“Which is not going to happen,” was his gleeful response. “We all agreed — no take-backs before picking.” The hat that you had all drawn out of, now empty, was tossed on the coffee table as everyone else began to move their bags into their freshly chosen rooms. Somewhere down the hallway, Jongin tripped over the wheels of his suitcase, his pained groan and Kyungsoo’s laughter bouncing against the walls of the AirBnb.

“Besides,” Chanyeol continued, hand coming up to ruffle your hair, “if I had actually rigged it, you should be thanking me. I’d be doing you a favour.” He gestured towards Baekhyun, who was busying himself with packing his hoodie back into his duffle bag, hopefully oblivious to the fact that the two of you were conspiring about him less than three metres away. 

“Yeah, say it any louder, why don’t you. And no, that wasn’t an invitation,” you warned, catching the wicked glint in Chanyeol’s eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to make good on your request and let the whole house know, only to choke back a groan at the elbow you shoved into his side. Behave, said the glare that you shot at him. His replying smile was anything but reassuring, before he picked up his bag and headed upstairs.

That was what you got for getting a little too drunk at Jongdae’s housewarming get-together last month and accidentally slipping up about your big, fat, debilitating crush on Baekhyun after the third glass of pinot noir in one night. If it had been anyone else made aware of your juvenile secret, you would probably be feeling a little less uneasy — but it just had to be the one person who couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Not to mention Park Chanyeol was a terrible wingman, having heard about the ridiculous escapades he put Jongdae through before he finally cuffed his girlfriend. Lucky for you, you were now getting to experience it first-hand.

“I can ask Jongin to swap, if you really don’t want to room with me,” came a soft voice from your right. Baekhyun regarded you with an expectant, if somewhat hesitant expression. 

“No, it’s okay,” you replied, trying your best to mask the panic that was fighting its way into your voice. It would be just your luck, that he would think your reluctance to share a sleeping space with him was because you didn’t like him enough, and not that you liked him a little too much. The slight furrow in his brow seemed to melt away with your words. “I just wanted the big room with the queen bed, but somehow Chanyeol got it. I seriously think he did something to these,” you said, waving your slip of paper that matched the one he was holding.

Come to think of it, you and Baekhyun had also been the last ones to draw out of the hat, since Chanyeol had insisted on going counter-clockwise around the dining table. How he managed to game the room allocations was beyond you, but you were now almost certain that he did.

“It’s good that he’s by himself though. The snoring would drive anyone mad,” Baekhyun mused, and you had to chuckle in agreement. 

“That time he passed out at my place after Saturday drinks…I genuinely thought I’d end up with a murder charge that night.” you said, chest squeezing at the way his eyes crinkled into crescent moons at your words. You busied yourself with your own bag, hoping he wouldn’t see the dumb smile on your face, and be able to tell how pleased you were to have teased a laugh out of him. Laughter was not something he usually withheld — he gave it freely, if not a little too generously — but it always did a funny thing to your heart when you were the cause of it. 

“Definitely can’t have that. Pretty face like yours would not last a day in jail.” With one hand around his own duffle, he draped the free one around your shoulders, letting the warmth of his arm wrap around you as you headed down the corridor to the room you’d be sharing for the weekend.

Having a crush on Baekhyun was no big deal. Probably even normal, if his college days were anything to go by. But what made it so debilitating was things like this — the little comments he’d throw around that could easily be passed off as just friendly flirting if you were so inclined, though you sometimes let yourself imagine his intentions came more from the flirting than the friendly part. He was a generally touchy person too, never missing a chance to pat Kyungsoo’s ass when the opportunity arose, but sometimes the brush of his fingers against the inside of your wrist felt a little too affectionate for two people united solely through friendship, even if you were the only one who internally crossed that line a while ago. It was things like this that made you question, every once in a while, if your feelings were as one-sided as you believed. Most of the time though, you chalked it up to his disposition, his easy-going magnetism, and concluded that whatever signals you thought he was sending were merely due to your overactive imagination running wild with hopes that he felt the same way.

“Dibs left,” he said, plopping down on the twin bed closer to the window. His arms raised above his head in a long, yawning stretch, revealing a thin strip of skin at the waistband of his jeans. Just the sight of it was enough to control your blood, sending a rush of it to your face, and you internally cursed yourself for being so weak to such a small thing. It was obvious you had been alone for way too long. He was too comfortable to notice the flush on your cheeks, eyes shut and enjoying the tension leaving his body after the long drive up.

You sat yourself down carefully on the remaining bed, noting the gap between the two mattresses. Whether you wanted to push them together or against opposite walls of the room, you couldn’t be sure. It was hard to form coherent thoughts when he turned to you with a boyish playfulness that curled the corner of his mouth upwards.

“You’re not going to sleepwalk your way into my bed, are you?” he asked, chin in his hand, a teasing glint in his eyes. You tried hard to catch yourself from choking on your own saliva.

“I’ve been known to kick in my sleep,” was your reply, voice much more nonchalant than you thought you were capable of, given that he had just planted the seed of the two of you sharing a twin mattress that was definitely not big enough to lie down on without touching in at least three different places. The glint in his eyes faded immediately, giving way to thinly-veiled concern at the threat underlying your words.

“I was kidding,” you clarified when he sat up and started to back away from you. “At least, I haven’t done that for fifteen or so years. But you never know, it might come back again tonight, when you’ve finally fallen asleep, and then BAM! Foot to the face. You better sleep with your eyes open, Byun Baekhyun,” you warned, giggling at the realisation dawning over his face before his pretty features settled into mock annoyance.

“You just think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He was on all fours now, making his way towards you with a wolfish grin. In no time, he had crawled over the gap between your two beds and suddenly his fingers were prodding at your ribs. It was a well-planned tickle attack, and one you had no chance of escaping from, since his legs had caged you in and the rest of him was pinning you down. You were helpless against the ambush of his fingers, succumbing to them with gasping giggles, punctuated by desperate pleas for him to stop. He showed no intention of letting up, fingers digging even deeper into your waist.

If you were going to die like this, you thought, at least you’d be dying while lying under him.

“When you two are done canoodling, we’re going to go set up on the beach,” came a voice from the doorway. Baekhyun’s merciless fingers paused, and the two of you looked back to see Chanyeol’s amused face at the foot of your bed, smirking like he knew some big secret that neither of you were privy to. God, you were seriously regretting that third glass at Jongdae’s new apartment last month.

Baekhyun turned back to you, your noses almost touching, and you could feel the air from his exhales fanning against the skin of your cheek. There was a mole just above the corner of his mouth that you don’t think you had ever noticed before. Warmth from his jean-clad legs radiated into your hips and meandered up and down your spine, and suddenly the late summer air around you was becoming sticky and heavier than usual. 

As if just now noticing the proximity you were in, he slowly untangled himself from your limbs, making sure not to crush you in the process. You sat up, still breathless, having just calmed down enough for full inhales again, but so was he, you noted. Surely tickling wasn’t that exertive of an activity? Or maybe you’d put up a better fight than you had thought.

“Don’t forget your towels,” was the last thing Chanyeol said before he ducked out, yelling at Jongin to grab the beach umbrellas, not the rain ones. There were a few seconds just filled with the sounds of your slowing breathing.

“I’m going to go get changed,” Baekhyun said, turning around to dig through his bag for his swim shorts. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could hear the slight tremble in his voice that indicated he hadn’t quite recovered from whatever was afflicting him. “We’ll probably just be setting up the umbrellas, so no rush, just come down when you’re ready.” As he turned around to head towards the bathroom, he flashed you that familiar smile, the one that always resulted in one of your own to mirror his, and set you at ease again. 

“And make sure you bring your sunscreen,” he added, before disappearing down the hallway. You watched him go, throwing yourself back onto the bed with a frustrated groan once you were sure he was out of earshot. Two whole days and nights in this tiny room, in the languid death of summer, with his body just an arm’s length away from yours — you had no idea how much of this you could stomach and emerge with your sanity intact.

This was shaping up to be the longest weekend ever.

The afternoon sun was unforgiving when you emerged from the house. Though you had thrown on a cover up before leaving, you could feel the heat tingling on the surface of your skin through the thin cotton. From the top of the bushy path leading down to the beach, you could already hear the tell-tale signs of a competition brewing between the boys, even if you couldn’t quite see them yet. A few steps down and you could make out their figures, managing to catch the view of Chanyeol flipping backwards off the jetty before plunging into the water, where the rest of them were bobbing around. Baekhyun’s voice floated above the others the way it always did when he was teasing, liltingly distinguishable, though perhaps that was only because you were now so attuned to it that other voices naturally started to sound more foreign. 

It was hard to pinpoint exactly when he went from Baekhyun, your friend who tended to get a little too rowdy after half a can of beer, to Baekhyun, your friend who made your heart pick up a little faster when you thought of him. One day his hiccuping laugh was teetering on the edge of obnoxiousness, and then all of a sudden it became endearing to hear the raw joy in his voice. If you knew exactly when the switch flipped, maybe you’d be able to retrace your steps and stop yourself from ever setting off down this path to end up where you were now, watching the sunlight glisten against his wet face with an overwhelming affection, wondering what it would be like to be the private audience of his radiant smile everyday.

You set your things down on the sand next to the pile of clothes and towels that were already there, recognising Chanyeol’s hat somewhere in the mix. The beach umbrella that Jongin had set up was already beginning to lurch towards one side, the brim rather close to the ground. Fixing it back in place and digging it into the sand a little deeper, you let out a fond laugh — some things, like the way Jongin used his hands like they weren’t his own, would stand the test of time. 

You had hoped that your friendship with Baekhyun would be one of those things, but the more time you spent casting longing glances his way when he wasn’t looking, the more you weren’t sure if you could ever recover from his rejection if you ever did decide to be honest about your feelings towards him. So you did your best to bury them, content to enjoy his company in the way you were both familiar with, afraid that if they did surface, they’d taint your friendship with something unpleasant and irreversible. If you couldn’t own the sun, at least you could still revel in its warmth.

Satisfied with the position of your towel underneath the shade of the umbrella, you looked back at the water, returning Baekhyun’s sweeping wave with a small one of your own. It was just enough of a distraction for Chanyeol to turn around as well, and Baekhyun seized the opportunity to dunk him, gleefully howling as the taller boy’s head disappeared below the waves. Before Chanyeol could resurface and enact his retaliation, Baekhyun was already making his escape, swimming towards the shore with fearful determination. Chanyeol made to follow, but upon seeing you sitting on the beach with your eyes fixed on Baekhyun’s approaching figure, he thought better of it, turning back around to continue the diving evaluation as Jongin took his turn to leap off the jetty.

With an amused smile, you watched as Baekhyun hurried out of the ocean, wet hair flying in all directions and flicking droplets of seawater across the sand. The water trickled down the planes of his bare torso, and you tried to keep your eyes away from the firmness of his pec, or the flexing movements of his abdominals as he made his way over to you. One thing was for sure — the gym sessions with Chanyeol were paying off. 

When he finally reached you, Baekhyun slumped onto your towel, ignoring your protests for him to stay away, and proceeded to soak you in the remaining water that was still clinging to his body. The skin of his stomach was cool against your calf, and he giggled delightfully at your attempts to push him off to avoid getting more water onto your clothes.

“Stop trying to fight it, you’re going to get wet when you go in anyway,” he said, finally rolling off you.

“I wasn’t planning on going in. I’m scared you’ll try to drown me,” you huffed, lightly flicking some sand onto his shoulder with your toe. He turned back around, chin cradled in his left hand, and flashed you a boyish smile.

“I would never do that,” he said, though the glint in his eyes was anything but convincing. “Besides, what are you going to do at the beach if you’re not getting in the water?”

You picked up the book nestled in between your shoes and waved it at him. “Read, of course.” He regarded the worn paperback with amused disbelief, eyebrows slightly raised. It was only when you flipped the book open to the paperclip you’d been using as a bookmark that he realised you were serious, and let out a scoff that was laced with something akin to fondness.

“You are such a cliche. Pretty girl reading at the beach? Unbelievable, seriously,” he said, before wriggling his head into your stomach, relishing in your shocked squeals as your cover up began to dampen again. His mischief had left a few wet patches on the fabric that were beginning to stick to your body in the uncomfortable fashion of late summer. You reached for the hem, pulling it off not without some struggle, and immediately felt the sun kissing against your bare shoulders. Though you were mostly covered by the shade from the umbrella, the last thing you wanted was a blistering sunburn where the straps of your tote bag usually rested, so you grabbed the sunscreen you had so diligently packed and began applying it on the parts of your skin that were exposed.

Baekhyun had gone uncharacteristically quiet. If you had been paying attention to him instead of so attentively rubbing the cream into the underside of your knee, perhaps you would have noticed the way his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than would have been polite. They followed the path your hands took, from the expanse of skin below your neck, across your stomach, and down the length of your legs.

“Do you want me to do your back?” he blurted, his voice a little more strained than usual. He was wearing an odd expression on his face, something you couldn’t quite place, but it was different from the usual playful one you were most well acquainted with. Nevertheless, you agreed, passing him the tube and turning around so your back was facing him.

His fingers were still cold from the water, and you jumped when they first made contact with your skin. He only laughed, squeezing both hands around your shoulders to hold you still before he got back to work again.

The first graze of his hands across your shoulders was tentative. You could feel the heat of him behind your back, the smell of salt and sun clinging to the air around you. His breaths fanned the skin on the back of your neck, sending goosebumps down your arms and legs despite the thick heat of the afternoon. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Slowly, his hands made their way down to your lower back, and it was then that you realised you might be in trouble. His hands pressed against the grooves of your spine, curving ever so slightly around your waist, and if you shivered, he pretended not to feel you tremble in his grasp. 

It was when his fingers slipped underneath the ties of your bikini top that the alarm bells began to go off in your head. His movements were hesitant, fingers stuttering in their dance across your skin before they gingerly pulled the strings aside to spread the sunscreen between the top and bottom halves of your back. It was too much, feeling his warmth, knowing there was only an inch of space between your bare torsos, having his hands on you doing such a thorough job with the task he had assigned to himself. When the tips of his fingers brushed the side of your ribs, just under the edge of the fabric, you couldn’t help the breathy noise that escaped your lips. 

“Actually, I think I left something back at the house,” you said suddenly, words hurriedly running into each other as they tripped over your tongue on the way out of your mouth. Twisting away from his dangerous touch, you bolted to a stand and hoped he’d attribute the pinkness of your cheeks to being outside in the brightness of the afternoon. Your words came out staggered, the slight tremble in your voice betraying the composure you were fighting so hard to maintain. 

Baekhyun’s gaze was careful, if not a little confused. The more his eyes ran over you, the more you were sure that the depth of your feelings towards him were beginning to surface on your face. Another second and he’d be able to tell, he’d figure out the little secret you’d been trying to conceal for the last couple of months. And then you wouldn’t be able to deny its existence anymore. 

So you fled, tossing a rushed promise to be right back over your shoulder before scurrying up the bushy path again. Away from the scrutiny of his eyes, away from the truth you did not want revealed to the world. The ghost of his touch lingered between your shoulder blades and along the ridges of your spine, your body already committing to memory the caress of his skin against yours. You realised then, that it would not be possible to continue living on as usual, now that you knew the taste of his closeness, as fleeting as it may have been.

“I think you should just go for it.”

Your fingers tightened around the glass at his words. Chanyeol’s tone was light and pragmatic, speaking as if the act of unfurling your heart were nothing more than a decision about whether to have steak or pork belly for dinner. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoffed, bringing the bottle to your lips.

“I’m serious though,” he continued, nudging your arm with the lip of his own beer. “I think you should just tell him, and see what he says. And stop expecting the worst. You’ll never know how things could turn out if you never do anything.”

You let your head fall back to lean on the doorframe you were both standing against, gazing out at the patio that had begun to darken following the sunset. Baekhyun and Jongin were placed at opposite ends of the ping pong table that had been wheeled out of the living room after dinner, neither seeming to mind the soft prick of grass at the underside of their bare feet. Whether the game was proceeding well was difficult to deduce, since both were sporting wide grins and rosy cheeks, courtesy of the glasses in their hands — but judging by the cluster of orange balls around Baekhyun’s feet, you had an inkling that victory would not be his. He didn’t seem to mind yet, laughing gleefully as Jongin swung his racquet too hard and launched a ball over the fence. 

“Not everyone is as good as you when it comes to talking about their feelings, you know,” you said, fixing Chanyeol with a knowing look that was halfway between admiration and resentment. If you only had his courage of expression, perhaps you would’ve put an end to your suffering a while ago. Ripped the band-aid off cleanly instead of peeling away at it, day by day, bit by bit, until it was hanging on by the last of its adhesive. You weren’t sure how much longer your resolve could last, if it would even survive this weekend without snapping under the force of your attraction.

He only shrugged. “You can’t get good without actually doing it.” You pondered his words in the short silence that settled while you both took another sip. He was right, of course, you knew that, but it didn’t make hearing it any easier.

“I think… I’m just scared,” you began slowly. Realising you were about to put his advice into action, Chanyeol turned to you with reassuring and patient eyes, waiting. You took a deep breath, swinging the contents of your bottle back and forth, and continued, “I’m scared that if I do tell him, it’s going to change our relationship and then I’ll lose him completely. At least if I don’t say anything, he’s still my friend, and I get to keep being in his life.”

He regarded you for a moment, brows furrowed thoughtfully, as he decided on his next words. It was no easy feat to try on honesty the way you just did, having so carefully avoided it for your entire life, and he was well aware of it. The slight tremble in your hands was a dead giveaway.

“And I think that’s completely understandable,” he finally said. “There’s always going to be a trade-off, no matter what you choose to do. But I guess you have to weigh up which one means more to you, and if you’re willing to take that risk on the chance that it does work out between you two. I’m only telling you what I think you should do. You’re the one who knows your own feelings the best.”

Another silence fell over the two of you again. Your bottle was nearly empty now, the beer inside already lukewarm from being out of the cooler for too long. Jongin let out a cheer as the ball sailed over his head, landing far behind him on the grass and ignoring Baekhyun’s flagrant attempts at contesting the point. Even under the patio lights, he was still so pretty, cheeks pink and glowy, the shape of his mouth so endearing as it settled into a pout. By now, you were used to the longing, and paid it no mind as it filled your chest with a bittersweet warmth.

“Aren’t you two best friends though?” you asked, the thought suddenly occurring to you. “You’re telling me you don’t know anything about how he feels about… whatever is going on?” The look you gave Chanyeol was suspicious, but he stood strong, resisting your prying eyes.

“I wouldn’t be much of a best friend if I went around blabbing to you about his feelings, would I?” was his response, accompanied by an elusive smile. There was something in his words that lingered in your mind, some important detail you felt as if you had overlooked, but his amused expression gave you nothing to hold onto. “You’re both so clueless,” he chuckled after a beat of your thoughtful silence, downing the rest of his drink.

Baekhyun was skipping over now, having officially lost 18-21 to Jongin, who was heartily celebrating his victory with a series of hoots and giggles. He headed straight for you, hair all messed up from running his hands through it during the game, and a rosy flush to his face, though you weren’t sure if that was from the game or the glass that he had left at the ping pong table. When he wrapped his arms around you and buried his head in your shoulder, you knew that it was probably the latter.

“I lost the game,” he whined, petulant and firm against you. His hair tickled your chin, and you could smell the faint scent of his shampoo from his shower after the beach.

“Are you drunk already?” you asked, trying to mask your breathlessness at his proximity with a few giggles. Baekhyun’s affinity for physical contact was the worst — or best, depending on how you looked at it — when he had alcohol in his system, and it didn’t take much to push him past the borders of sobriety. His ache for touch and affection was most often relieved on you, and you always obliged, gladly and readily letting him take whatever it was he wanted.

The tip of his nose brushed back and forth against your skin as he shook his head. “Just a little, tiny bit,” he said, voice muffled, and you felt the warmth of his breath through your t-shirt.

“Where’s the love for your best friend?” Chanyeol teased, the only one amused at the way Baekhyun had dived straight into your arms without even sparing him a glance. 

The boy in your arms didn’t even falter, only snuggling further into you. “You know it’s because she’s my favourite,” he murmured, lips skimming your collarbone ever so softly as he spoke. The panic onset was instantaneous, and you prayed he was too drunk to pick up on the sudden rapid thundering of your heartbeat inside your chest. You tried to look at Chanyeol for help, but he was setting off across the patio, taking up Jongin on his invitation for a match with the promise that he would wipe the floor with the younger boy.

Baekhyun only hummed contentedly, oblivious to the havoc he was wreaking inside you, tightening his hold around you when you made a half-hearted attempt to wriggle out of his arms. His pink lips set into another rounded pout, brows slightly creased as he pulled back to look at you.

“You know you’re my favourite, right?” he asked, trying to be convincing despite the slight slur to his words. You could only nod, letting a small smile twist the corners of your mouth upwards. Whether he realised or meant what he was saying, you weren’t all that concerned, simply happy to bask in the warmth of his full attention knowing it was probably just nonsensical babble brought on by the drink in his belly. It was so much easier to be close to him when he was like this, hazier, and sure to forget most of what he had said the morning afterwards. It didn’t hurt that you were also starting to feel a little blurrier around the edges, the beer from earlier making its way through your system and leaving behind a pleasant fuzziness that made it all the more tempting to come clean about your feelings. But you weren’t quite there yet, and you had no plans to get to that point tonight.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he curled back up into you. With your hands around his back, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heart, the comfortingly even beat of it through his rib cage. It was so easy to imagine this was the way it had always been, and would always be, so easy to slip into the fairytale you often found yourself fabricating when your one-sided longing became too much to contain. It would be so nice if you could live in this moment forever, you thought. But was this small pocket of peace worth risking your entire friendship?

“I wish you’d stop running away from me,” he murmured, or at least that’s what you thought he said. It was a little difficult to concentrate when his lips were grazing your skin again, lightly feathering across your neck as the words shaped his mouth on their way out of it. 

And then you felt it, the unmistakable and deliberate press of his lips against your collarbone, the gentle pressure and the slight moisture on your skin from it searing through you like a lit trail of gasoline. This time, he had to have heard the stilted gasp that escaped your mouth.

He lifted his head slowly to look at you again, searching your face with glassy eyes — for what, you weren’t quite sure. The only things you were sure of right now were the fiery burn in your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your heart that echoed between your ears. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, though his expression was nowhere near as apologetic as his words would have you believe. If anything, his gaze on you was almost daring, waiting to see how you’d respond, if you’d shrink back into yourself like you always did when he got too close and crossed that invisible boundary you only danced around. If you’d run away from him the way he had just said he wished you wouldn’t. Or if you’d let him push you over too, just this once.

Seeing the hesitation in your face, he slowly extricated from you, retracting his limbs and warmth until they hung limply by his sides again. Scratched the back of his head. Let his eyes wander around the patio and settle on anything except for you. 

“I’m going to see if Kyungsoo needs any help with cleaning up,” he said quietly, not waiting for your response as he headed back into the house. The drink had made his gait unsteady, and you felt him sway against the doorframe as he brushed past you. A chilling unease began to settle in the pit of your stomach as you watched him go, the shape of his back getting smaller and smaller as he was swallowed by the light of the living room. 

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, and that there was a possibility it had not been in the direction you had hoped for.

Perhaps the second glass of wine had been a little overambitious, you realised, staring up at the ceiling of your shared bedroom. Kyungsoo had been so excited about the 2012 Shiraz he had brought from home, pouring you a full glass with an enthusiasm he didn’t often display. You couldn’t say no, and you didn’t protest when he refilled it a short while later. If he noticed the faster-than-usual speed with which you drained its contents, he did not show it. Whilst alcohol tended to put people to sleep, it had the opposite effect on you, dangling sleep in front of you like a carrot you could never get a hold of easily, or for long. That second glass of wine was the reason you were lying in bed, not soundly asleep like you wished, but keenly aware of every breath and every movement from the other occupant of the room, only an arm’s length away from you.

Baekhyun had spent most of the night with Chanyeol out on the patio, drinking and laughing under the generous light of the moon. Even if he wasn’t purposely avoiding you, you felt his absence from your side sorely. He didn’t say much during the wind down for bed either, only asking if you wanted the curtains fully shut, to which you gave an affirmative. Still, a sliver of moonlight speared through the gap between them, illuminating the room just enough that if you turned your head to the side, you could make out the outline of his body beneath the covers and acquaint yourself with the familiar curve of his nose.

It was only fair that the wine, having taken your sleep, offered something in return to mark an honourable trade. That something manifested itself in the restlessness of your mouth, which battled against the remaining rationality of your mind. Loose-lipped and anxious, you dug your nails into the palm of your hand, willing the war inside your head to approach a ceasefire. You did not want to make a fool of yourself in the intimacy of this small room. 

However, your resolve could not last for long, corroded by the hours spent without his presence, without the familiar warmth of his touch, without his little comments meant only for you as he pointed out something silly or poked fun at Jongin’s whining. Barely above a whisper, you called out his name, letting your voice permeate the darkness. It was loud enough that he’d hear it above the silence, but soft enough that he could ignore it if he so wished, and you’d attribute his ignorance to the deepness of sleep.

There was a second of silence, which he followed with an answering hum and a shuffle of his legs on the mattress. He was awake, and he was waiting for you to speak.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked the ceiling. 

“No, I’m not mad at you,” was his reply, accompanied by a quiet sigh. He was conversing with the ceiling too, just as reluctant to face you.

Your hands twisted the sheets in dissatisfaction. The even tone of his voice indicated truth, but his answer didn’t explain why he had spent the whole night outside without calling for you even once, when he usually couldn’t last half an hour without pressing into your side and tickling your shoulder to grab your attention. 

“Then what?” you probed, cringing at the whiny edge to your voice. 

He was quiet for a while, letting your words hang in the air, that for a moment you thought he wouldn’t speak, that your brief conversation had already come to an end, and you’d be left with unanswered questions as bedside companions for the night. There was another rustling from his side of the room as he settled himself under the covers.

“Sometimes, I think I want too much from you,” he finally said. He was quiet, but you heard every word with the clarity as if they had been projected through a stereo system. “And you can’t give me everything I want, but that’s not your fault. It’s an indication of my own greed and selfishness more than anything else.”

You kicked around at your sheets to signal your unrest at his words. “I don’t think you are greedy or selfish. At all. At least not with me.” If anything, you were the selfish one, wanting all his smiles and touches for yourself, wanting the entire spectrum of his existence to only ever be shown to you. Your generosity only ever came to light when it was in service of him, gladly letting him take your attention, your time, allocating space in your mind for him and him only. 

Baekhyun only laughed a soft and short laugh at your reply, the sound so different from the usual one filled with boisterous joy that you had grown the most used to. You heard him turn over in his bed to face you. In the quiet darkness of the room, the focus of his gaze flooded over you, and the intensity of it was so blinding you didn’t dare to look away from the smoothness of the ceiling, fearing you’d smoulder into ash the moment you locked eyes with him.

“You know that you are a really important person to me. You know that, right?” he asked, eyes searing into you with the force of a thousand suns. “I mean, everyone else is also important because they’re my friends, but you’re different — you are a special person to me. I don’t see you the way I see Chanyeol, or Jongin, or anyone else.” 

His words were still tinged with the slight slur of the beer from out on the patio, but you could feel the delicate care with which they were chosen and spoken. Something was different about tonight. You could taste it in the thick air between the two of you, feel it in the wire-taut tension stretching across the gap between your two twin beds. Your fingers dug into the comforter, willing the turbulence in your chest to subside.

He paused and took a deep breath, as if bracing himself against something devastating. “I don’t want the same things with them as I do with you.”

You held your breath until you felt the pain of deprivation in your chest.

“But I’ve made peace with the fact that what I want from you, and the way I feel about you, are things I’ll have to carry with me. They’re things I have to bear the weight of alone. I don’t — I would never want you to be uncomfortable, or see me differently.” There was a slight catch in his voice at the end.

You didn’t even know if your lungs were still working while you listened to him speak. There was a surrealness to the night, as if everything had been covered in a blanket of haze and everything that was transpiring was the product of a fever-induced dream, existing on an alternate timeline.

Baekhyun… it didn’t even feel right thinking it.

Baekhyun had feelings for you? And he had convinced himself it was one-sided?

“It’s pretty selfish, isn’t it? Asking you to act like things between us won’t change after everything I just said,” he laughed, but there was little humour in the sound. You finally turned your head to look at him, the wry curve of his mouth catching the moonlight as he gazed at you. He was smiling, the shape of it meant to comfort you, but he could not hide the sadness weaved into the downturn of his eyes. He had always been braver than you, perhaps not in the aspect of riding roller-coasters, but certainly in his ability to be honest and open about his emotions, regardless of whether they were good or bad. 

It was your turn to be brave now, and shed your own fear to meet him where he stood.

“I’ve been seeing you differently for a while now,” you admitted, turning under the sheets to fully face him. You were grateful for the darkness, hoping that it would conceal the heat creeping up your neck and face, painting your cheeks with a hot blush that accompanied the start of your confession. His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to process your words, confusion settling in the crease between them. You held yourself back from reaching out to smooth them over.

“What do you mean?”

“What makes you think you’re the only one who feels this way?” you asked instead, leaving his question unanswered. There was a tremble in your voice as you spoke, and you were sure he heard it above the quiet of your bedroom. It was the closest you could get to telling him without actually telling him about the silent battle that had been raging in your head for the last few months. 

This was it, you thought. He had to know now.

“Am I not?”

The weight of his stare pressed against you, drawing you to him with the tangible pull of gravity. The eyes that roamed your face had replaced their previous confusion with questioning, and a glimmer of something akin to hope. He had never looked more beautiful and devastating than he did right now. You felt the light of dawn breaking over your skin, a promise of something new and good sure to follow. Its warmth simmered within you, staving off the chill of the late summer night with a heat that had you pushing off your covers in a hurried frenzy and rising to sit on the edge of your bed, toes just grazing the floorboards beneath you. Would you still have had the same nerve to face him in the daylight, rough and exposed without the lulling comfort of darkness? Would he still look at you, unpolished and flawed in the clarity of the sun, the same way, with the reverence of man at the sight of an angel? 

Baekhyun mirrored you and sat up on his own bed, slowly, as if not wanting to spook you, fearing you’d run off and retreat back into the confined familiarity of your own head. His knees knocked against yours in the small space between your two mattresses. You jolted at the feeling of his skin on yours, having gone without it for so long that the mere touch was like the first drop of water after emerging from the desert. He made to move away, trying to shuffle across the length of the bed, but stilled at the hand you placed just over his knee, willing him to stay put. Surely, he could feel the beat of your heart thrumming through your fingertips.

It was your turn to be brave now.

Fueled by the second glass of Shiraz and the muted encouragement of darkness, before you could second guess yourself and overthink every possible negative outcome of what you were about to do, you closed your eyes and leant towards him. Slowly, inch by inch, until your journey ended with the soft, tentative press of your lips against his. It was short and chaste, nothing more than a gentle pressure, and you pulled back when you felt his lips part in surprise.

“Does that answer your question?” you whispered, heart in your throat. 

There it was. You had gone and done it. 

His eyes were closed, and in the dim moonlight peeking through the curtain, you could almost make out each of his eyelashes, fluttering dark and soft against the smooth skin of his cheek. For a few seconds, the room was filled only with the sounds of your breathing as you waited for his reaction, for the consequences of your actions and what that meant for your friendship with him. 

Then you heard it — his soft laugh, coloured with appreciative disbelief, and felt the air of it caress your face. The corners of his mouth curved upwards into a small, pleased smile. His eyes blinked open slowly, taking you in with a hunger that had desire curling in the pit of your stomach.

“You are just so…” he began, but you never found out just exactly what you were. He was already pulling you back into him, slotting his mouth against yours like they were always made to fit perfectly together. This time, the kiss was anything but chaste, the sheer force of it enough to scorch your insides down to your bones. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush towards him, and your knees parted around his thighs to adjust to the new position. Your own hands found purchase in the softness of the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate for something to anchor yourself to, in fear that the realisation of this moment would somehow make it slip away.

This was what it felt like to stand unafraid and bare in the light of unbridled wanting, to consume and be consumed by a ravenous appetite with no propensity for satiety. When his hands slipped past the hem of your sleep tank, fingertips grazing across the skin of your lower back, you were sure you could erupt into flames. He swallowed the breathy noise that escaped your lips, tongue brushing against yours as he claimed your mouth with his own. 

This was what it felt like to hold the sun in the palm of your hand.

When you broke apart to catch your breaths, his eyes were bright, lips plump and swollen, chest heaving beneath your hands. Somehow, you had ended up back on his bed, his head against the pillows, hands under your shirt and keeping you close to him with an unforgiving hold. He was gazing up at you with a devotion that made your heart swell even more than it did pulling oxygen back into your lungs.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” he admitted, hiding his head into the crook of your shoulder. You felt his abashed smile against your skin and wondered how it could be possible that you had contained all of this, the longing, the yearning, inside you for so long.

“How long?” you asked, hearing the smile in your own voice.

“Since Chanyeol’s birthday, when you wore that brown sweater with the little bow on the back.”

Last year, Chanyeol had gotten everyone together at his place for a nice dinner and wine followed by a binge watch of all the Iron Man movies in one sitting. It was all going according to plan until a quarter of the way into the third one, when he began snoring at his own birthday gathering. The bowl of popcorn was sliding out of his hands and sure to make a buttery mess all over the rug, and that’s when the rest of you decided to turn the television off and call it a night. Sehun and Jongin tasked themselves with getting the birthday boy into bed, and likely collapsed onto it with him immediately after, while Baekhyun had offered you the couch, assuring you he’d be fine with the blankets on the floor. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it. As chaotic as he could be, Baekhyun was nothing if not kind, and you had been grateful that his kindness had always extended to you over the three years you had known each other.

“But that was more than half a year ago. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

His fingers prodded into your sides, eliciting a few choked giggles from you. “I didn’t know how you’d react. You know you’re not the most expressive person on the planet,” he said dryly. “Or the most observant. I literally frenched your collarbone and you’re telling me you didn’t realise I liked you more than as a friend?”

“Okay, well when you put it like that,” you huffed, feeling the vibrations of his laugh through his chest. “But you really didn’t know I had feelings for you? Chanyeol never said anything?”

His movements stilled, leaning back into the pillows so he could lock eyes with you again. “You talk to Chanyeol about me?” he asked, to which you nodded sheepishly. “Since when?”

“Last month, Jongdae’s housewarming. He fished it out of me after dinner,” you sighed, picturing his smug grin under the lights of Jongdae’s fancy new kitchen when you realised that you had slipped up and let him in on your little secret. 

“But I talk to him about you.”

You looked at each other for another beat, realisation breaking over the both of you, before dissolving into another fit of disbelieving giggles. Maybe Park Chanyeol did know how to keep his mouth shut after all.

“So he’s a terrible wingman, is what I’m getting out of this whole thing,” Baekhyun chuckled, rolling you over so you were now lying on your side, face to face with him. He planted a slow, sweet kiss on your lips, taking his time to acquaint himself with the shape and taste of your mouth, and you felt the contentment of his smile against you. “I can’t believe we could have gotten together a month ago. Some best friend he is.”

“Gotten together?” you echoed, one eyebrow raised in feigned dispute, delighting in the way his sweet mouth settled into the pout that you adored.

“You mean to tell me that you don’t want to be with me after your tongue was all up in my mouth?”

You pushed his face away, groaning, “Gross, don’t say it like that.” He, however, had different plans, hooking a calf behind your knees and tugging you back into him, before weaving the other leg in between your own.

“You know you like it,” he murmured into your neck, squeezing his arms around you just in case you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. One hand traced absent-minded circles over the grooves of your spine as he breathed you in, warm and familiar against your chest. 

Yes, you thought, you’d risk any and everything for this exact moment. It was worth all the doubt and heartache, all the time spent replaying those moments in your head, unsure of the meaning behind his actions. You could be sure of it now.

“I do,” you agreed, threading your fingers through the softness of his hair. “I probably more than like you,” you added, tilting his face upwards to steal another kiss, giddy and chest swelling with affection. Perhaps you weren’t quite yet ready for that other four letter word, but you had no doubt you would be one day, and soon. He was all too willing to comply, letting his mouth mould against yours with the poise and patience of a saint. 

“I probably more than like you too,” he replied, punctuating his confession with one final kiss to the tip of your nose. It was enough for the serene smile on your face to persist, even past the arrival of sleep.

“I knew it.”

You cracked one eye open, trying to adjust to the light flooding in through the open door to your room. Chanyeol stood at the foot of your bed, grinning from ear to ear with what could only be described as a look of triumph as he took in the scene before him. The boy next to you stirred lightly, digging his face deeper into the pillow, reluctant to leave the realm of the sleeping. Chanyeol was not in the least sympathetic to his friend’s struggles, striding over to the window and pulling back the curtains with a clang. You winced as the full force of the morning sun barged in, and Baekhyun let out a soft noise of displeasure at the intrusion.

“I fucking knew it,” Chanyeol said again, quickly bringing you to your senses as you registered the weight of another body on top of your own. You made to remove yourself from him, fighting the flush creeping up your neck and face, but it was an effort which proved futile as he only tightened the arm around your waist, loath to let you go. 

“Can you be quiet? You’re going to wake the whole house,” you hushed, finally succeeding in untangling your legs from Baekhyun’s, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately.

“They’re already up. I came to call you for breakfast,” Chanyeol replied, the grin seemingly stuck to his face. “Which actually reminds me,” he began, before sticking his head out of the doorway to holler, “You better pay up, Jongin. And you too, Kyungsoo!”

“You bet on us?” came the groggy voice from the pillows behind you.

“What the hell, Chanyeol? I thought you said you didn’t go around blabbing about his feelings!” you exclaimed, indignant.

“To you. I never said anything about telling anyone else,” was his reply, smug and victorious at having outsmarted you.

Kyungsoo appeared in the doorway, donning a flour-covered apron, as if to confirm for himself that he was in fact a debtor to the taller boy. “Even if he didn’t say anything, it wasn’t all that hard to figure out,” he said lightly, surveying the room with curiosity and paying no mind to the shock painted on your face. How had everybody known about your now not-so-secret crush on Baekhyun except for the man himself? “Anyways, I only said that it would be unlikely to happen over this weekend, not that it was impossible. So Jongin is the only loser. Now come for pancakes.” And with that, he headed back towards his bowl of batter on the kitchen counter, chuckling at the sound of Jongin’s complaints against fulfilling his end of the wager.

Baekhyun, having somewhat freed himself from the clutches of sleep, rose to a sitting position and shot a drowsy scowl at his friend. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that right?”

But even the expletive could not put a damper on Chanyeol’s mood, his smile never slipping. “You two should honestly be thanking me,” he said, to which you also shot him a glare. “Also, I’m happy for you and everything, but can you please keep the PDA to a minimum in front of the rest of us? I will lock you out of the house if you don’t.”

Baekhyun turned to you, the creases of the frown on his face slowly but surely smoothing out as he took you in, cheeks puffy and hair a mess from having just woken up. He had seen you in worse states, and definitely in better states, but none of that seemed to matter as he regarded you with nothing but fondness in his eyes. You were sure that your expression mirrored his, affection spreading throughout your entire body, reaching even the tips of your fingers and toes, at the sight of his tousled bed head, the sleepy droop of his eyes, the sweet pinkness of his lips. 

The sun was yours. There was no feasible way to stop the smile from blooming across your entire face.

He couldn’t really complain if you were here with him now, right? You were in his bed, in his arms, laying on his chest. Everything was fine. A few days of no contact was normal and you both had a good enough relationship where it shouldn’t bother him, right? But it did…

The next time Jaehyun pissed you off was just a week later. He had proven to be a little extra clingy after his punishment of silence and that was good enough for you. It had been enough to hold you off with some of his, less than perfect behavior, until the next time he messed up. Sure, enough it was just 7 days later when he acted stupid again. And it was time for him to learn again. Sometimes he just had to learn to not do something by doing it and learning the consequences. Like a child… or a pet.

Jaehyun had had a stressful week. You knew that, he had told you about it the last time you saw him just yesterday, so you did feel kinda bad for deciding to pull this out of your sleeve now. How was he going to learn if you never tried to fix it though?

Jaehyun was pacing around his room, running a hand down his face and staring at the email that basically told him nothing from their partner sorority. He was social chair, so he was in charge of planning mixers. That’s exactly what he was trying to do! But the Kappa social chair was either knowingly being a pain in the ass or just naturally was a pain in the ass. How was it useful for Jaehyun to know when a handful of sisters all had an astronomy class?! Why did that matter when he was asking her to choose from a handful of dates he’d already chosen?!

Not only was this sorority social chair being annoying, Taeyong had been on his ass to plan some kind of sponsored philanthropic event, but everyone Nu Chi had worked with previously was being so difficult! No one was returning a single one of his emails, he spent his afternoons on hold or making calls, and just getting in contact with new companies and vendors just took so much effort. He currently had one sponsor, which was fine, whatever. But nothing Nu Chi Theta did while Jaehyun was social chair was ever just fine. Fine was acceptable for Alpha Sig’s but not for Nu Chi’s. He would need at least two more sponsors to reach the level of finery he was used to working with.

So that’s what Jaehyun was texting you about, his fingers tapping across the small screen of his phone while he put all his ranting and raving into words and sent off the text with a sigh of relief. You would talk him down, get him through his stress, and give him some advice for his problems. Then he’d feel like a new man, ready to tackle his problems with a clear head just like you always did for him. Just the thought of your advice had him smiling down at his phone while he added ‘sorry, about that. had to vent. how was your day sweets?’ and sent it your way.

On your end, you read through the long text ready to reply and give him some advice and offer your own help, but then you remembered… You remembered how just a few days ago you were venting to him about a small argument you and Ari, your roommate, had gotten into, and he showed no signs of actually listening. You went to him for a reason! He had at least 10 roommates, he never had complaints about any of them, so it wasn’t like you were talking just to talk! You wanted your boyfriend to give you some advice like you always gave him, but all you got was a “damn... Wanna order me some wings?” You had to physically keep jaw from dropping. God, he could be such a fucking guy sometimes! It was like talking to a fucking wall! Albeit a very good looking, handsome wall, but a wall nonetheless.

It was time for him to get yet another taste of his own medicine. Instead of taking the time to offer your advice or offer your help, you smirked, staring at your screen as you typed out, ‘that sucks’. Next text, ‘My day was chill, kinda hungry … send me door dash?’

On his end, Jaehyun stared at the screen with blatant confusion, watching as the minutes ticked by while he waited for some long paragraph with solutions and encouragement to be sent his way. After five minutes nothing came. The same after 10. No change after 20 and then he sets his phone aside feeling grumpy and pissy. Why wasn’t his girlfriend helping him? Did you even read his message?

And he couldn’t exactly call you out on it because it wasn’t an issue between the both of you. They were problems he had before you guys were together sure, but he liked having you to lean on now. He sighed tiredly, resting his chin atop his folded arms with a pout while staring at his dark screen and willing you to text him back again so all his issues would be just one step closer to being fixed.

His heart skipped a beat when the screen lit up and he saw the familiar combination of emojis used for your contact. He reached for his phone eagerly, feeling his heart soar at the anticipated text where you would help him solve his issues. But his face fell into a frown and he groaned out loudly at the words on his screen: ‘is my food on its way yet?’

The last reciprocation of his fuckboy energy was probably the worst. You honestly don’t know how you let Jaehyun get away with it practically unscathed, but karma was coming around now and she wasn’t merciful. It was your pièce de résistance, the cherry on top of your fuckboy sundae, your magnum opus, your masterpiece. 

To give Jaehyun some credit, it had been a while since he had dated a woman for a long period of time, or really, dated any woman at all. Maybe he had forgotten some very basic decorum and manners as far as ways to act and things to say or not say. Just yesterday you had been complaining about your professor being very vague in the instructions for your assignment, and even more vague when you emailed him to ask for clarity. “Like the instructions make it sound so simple, but it can’t be that simple if this project accounts for 30% of our grade! Like hello, is it hard to reply to an email with words that actually fucking mean something?” You groaned, running your fingers through your hair while you texted your project group chat what your professor had replied.

Jaehyun chuckled, running a calming hand down your back, focusing his relaxing touch on your lower back as his fingers kneaded at your muscles, “chill out sweetheart, I think you’re making this a bigger deal than it actually is.”

You sent him an unamused look from the corner of your eye, “chill out? Jae, I just said this project accounts for a third of my grade. I can’t be chill about this.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your neck, then your shoulder, “are you… you know?”

Your fingers froze over your keyboard, waiting for his next words, giving him a chance to backtrack. He stayed silent and waited patiently. You exhaled, speaking in a voice that was all too eerily calm, “Am I what, Jaehyun?”

“Are you on your period? You just seem extra worked up about something kind of pointless.” He replied casually, his fingers continuing to work at your lower back. The exact area you had once confessed hurt you so bad you could barely stand in the first couple days of your period. This- somewhat thoughtful- little shit!

You smacked his hands away while you closed your laptop and gathered your things in a hurry, mumbling, “you’re such an asshole sometimes.”

Jaehyun stared at you in shock, an asshole? He was being an asshole for caring about his girlfriend’s well-being? “Sweetheart, it’s just that you seem to be making a bigger deal out of this than it actually is,” he tried to explain.

You held a hand up, silencing him, ”every time you open your mouth, you dig yourself into a deeper hole. No, I’m not on my period. Yes, it is a big deal and yes, I’m actually leaving. Good night and goodbye.”

This very conversation had been playing on repeat in your mind while Jaehyun vented to you about Johnny being up his ass about new recruits being low as he paced around his room. “I mean, it shouldn’t be solely on my shoulders if recruits are low. There are plenty of brothers who don’t have as many responsibilities as I do. Like, I barely figured out the whole sponsored mess with Taeyong and now Johnny decided to stick his foot up my ass too. Can I get a fucking break or something?!” He ranted passionately.

You stared at him blankly from your seated position on his bed, forcing your smirk to stay hidden. “Is it… you know?” You began to ask.

“Is it stressful? Hell yeah it is, I mean shouldn't we have any and all brothers taking turns trying to recruit. I mean that’s why I take my time to throw mixers, parties, and sponsored events that kick ass so that people want to join,” Jaehyun replied with a tired sigh.

“No,” you laughed softly, “is it like your time of the month? You seem to be making a big deal out of nothing?”

When Jaehyun turned to you with his eyes wide in astonishment, he expected to see you laughing it off playfully. He expected for you to confess that you were just kidding and kiss him sweetly. But you cocked your head to the side and raised a brow as if to ask, ‘what’s the problem?’

After that, Jaehyun was quick to rise to his feet, pinning you with a heated stare. “What the hell has been up with you? You've been acting… grimy for like the last month.”

You laughed in astonishment, “I’ve been acting grimy? Huh, then imagine how I feel on a regular basis!”

“You?! Sweets, you’ve been acting like a douche! Like when you didn’t respond to me for days even though you were posting like normal and you lied about your phone being broken! Like, hello! You were on Instagram right in front of my face with the same crack on your screen since I’ve known you!”

You raised a brow, holding back an amused smirk, “that’s all? I don’t reply for a couple days and now I’m a douche? Babe, you’re being like really emotional right now, calm down.”

“And that too!” Jaehyun exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “why are you asking me if it’s my time of the month when I’m talking about something that’s bothering me? I want you to support me. You did the same thing when I texted you looking for advice when I was handling the whole mixers and sponsors thing.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “well, I don’t know what you want me to say right now.”

Jaehyun raised his brows and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what the hell he was hearing. Was he in some kind of alternate universe? Had aliens come down and planted worms in your brain? What happened to his sweet girlfriend?! “Well, an apology would be really nice,” he replies while cocking his head at you.

“And have you ever apologized to me for any of that same behavior?” You ask in a calm voice.

“Wha- me apologize?! This isn’t about me! It’s about you!”

“Oh, so it’s only a problem when I act like this and not you? Got it.”

“When?! When have I acted like you?” Jaehyun asks in exasperation, eyes wide with shocked confusion.

“Hmmm. Let me think!” You exclaim before dramatically placing the tip of your finger on your chin, “just like everyday we’ve been together, you dummy!”

“Give me examples. I can’t believe this.”

“Alright, how about how I’ve had to train you like some kind of pet to learn some very basic texting etiquette? I let you get away with being a shitty texter for months and the one time I do it, you go crazy. I got used to not getting a response from you after days on end and I act like you did one time and you almost call campus security to my dorm to see if I’m alive,” you state, counting out a single finger. 

With the next finger, “I come to you for advice regarding my single roommate considering you have like a hundred of them, and what do you do? You say, damn, buy me wings? Who the fuck does that?! So it didn’t feel very good when I did it to you, huh? Did you like looking for advice only to be hit with some bullshit response and then asked for food? Which I never got by the way!”

Third finger, “And just now. Oh no, did you not like being told your issue meant nothing? Awww, mmmm, are you sad?” You pull your face into a very sarcastic sad face, “now imagine how I feel when you asked me if I was on my fucking period?! Like, have you never been around someone with a vagina? Even Mark and Haechan who barely pull know better than to ask some shit like that! And these are just three of your douchebag behaviors! Shall I continue, Mr. so called I’m-perfect-and-can-never-make-mistakes-because-that-would-be-impossible!”

Jaehyun stood speechless. Was he really that bad? Well, clearly he was. He had to admit he didn’t think he was this bad. He had been really good about adapting to his new role as a boyfriend and thought everything else that came his way was just going to be easy to handle. Apparently, he hadn’t handled it all the right way.

“I didn’t realize I was this bad, I’m sorry. Wow,” Jaehyun sighed, sitting on the bed with his folded over his mouth, “sweetheart, I’m really sorry.”

But that was another way Jaehyun had adapted. He didn’t start arguments while being hard headed, he listened when the issue was serious, he accepted wrong doing, and made changes. 

You crawled across his bed, sitting beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have been petty. I should have told you these things bothered me in the moment instead of using them against you… but it was kinda fun.”

Jaehyun rested his head atop yours and chuckled softly, “I think I’m really glad you’re not one of the frat guys because we’d always have girls in here yelling about you gaslighting them. How did you handle me doing this for so long?”

“It helps that you listen when it matters. You’re sweet, you can be romantic, you care about me, you make an effort for me, I can tell you’re trying to be better for me even if it doesn’t all come easily for me,” you explain in a calm voice, “and you’re hot as hell, the abs don’t stop, and you keep that body nice and tight for mama, don't you baby boy?”

Your cackle rings out across his room while he jumps away from you with flushed cheeks. “Don’t… don’t talk like that. It’s totally freaking me out!”

“Come on, babe,” you tease while deepening your voice playfully, “bring me that ass.” 

You manage to grab him while he tries, and fails, to jump away. You playfully knead his (lack of) ass while grinning up at him. You pucker your lips, to which Jaehyun playfully rolls his eyes before kissing you sweetly. “I’m so glad you’re a girl because you would be an absolute terror as a guy,” he states while shaking his head and cupping your cheeks.

“I think I should rush, baby,” you respond playfully, “you could be my big, dude! Come on, bro!”

“Enough of this!” Jaehyun jokingly hisses, “I want my sweet girl back.”

“Fine,” you drawl out with pout, “let this be your lesson though, Jae. When you go low, I can go lower. And I will go lower.”

“Trust me, I’ve learned. I’ll be better at texting, I’ll be an active listener, I’ll give you advice when you need it, and I’ll never ask you if you’re on your period again,” Jaehyun nods.

“See, you’re such a great learner. Let’s go get you a treat, baby,” you smile sweetly, pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking his hand and leading him down the stairs toward the kitchen.

“I don’t know how I feel about you talking to me like I’m a dog…”

You smile at him, “you like it.”

Jaehyun raises a brow, “do I?”

You hum, grabbing the ice cream from the freezer, “yup, you have a praise kink.”

As the new social season approaches, your rising anxiety increases tenfold.

It has been four years since you were introduced to society, which is deemed far too long to be unwed for a lady like yourself. Your mother is nearly chewing her own arm off in anticipation of you finding a husband. She definitely would have married you off to the first gentleman caller by now, but luckily for you, your father refuses to tie you to another man unless you provide your stamp of approval. He possesses a soft spot for his only child that your mother never understood.

Unfortunately, the pool of suitors is extremely lacking, forcing you to pass by season after season with no husband in sight.

“Perhaps this year will be different,” Yerim coos. “They say Mrs. Kim’s son is particularly eye-catching.”

“He’s also a right bore,” you grumble, locking your arms together as you stroll into Mrs. Kim’s soirée. You’ve heard many tales of her son, Doyoung, and how he’s finally ready to settle down and take a wife. However, you also heard he is unwilling to sit for a conversation for more than an hour, and how his expectations for his wife are skyrocketing through the roof. “Maybe I shall just put him out of his misery and marry Lee Donghyuck.”

She struggles to conceal her laughter. “I would love to see that.”

The night carries on as expected, with you and Yerim spending your time near the wall while the other ladies dance around the floor. You deny multiple requests for your hand, conjuring up excuses of a strained ankle or an upset stomach.

It is not until the end of the night when you are confronted with your lie.

“A poor tummy, hm? Perhaps you should have stayed home in case you heave all over Mrs. Kim’s beautiful floor,” Jeong Jaehyun says as he approaches you.

You roll your eyes. “I imagine you find it quite hard to mind your own business, Lord Jeong. I would rather not be subject to hearing your grating voice if it is not deemed necessary.”

Out of all the gentlemen in the ton, Jeong Jaehyun is the one who has stooped low enough to classify himself as a proper rake. A man who preys on the hearts of women and lacks commitment — a rake is not a man that a lady would ever want to associate herself with. They do not take the concept of marriage seriously, and you shall likely find them in the bed of another woman before they grace your own.

Jaehyun smirks at you in the way he knows will dig underneath your skin. He has been out in society just as long as you have, and every year, he never fails to irritate you to no end.

“No luck for you tonight? Tell me, what could possibly be wrong with the wonderful men gracing this room? How have they wronged you so that you have denied every single one of them?”

You try to look for an escape, but Yerim has already made an early departure and the rest of the ladies refuse to mingle with you in fear of also being dubbed as a lonely spinster.

“I did not know you were paying attention to me so ardently,” you bite back, and this has Jaehyun’s ears blooming bright red. You smile in satisfaction.

“I-I was not doing anything of t-the sort,” he stutters. “It is simply hard not to notice when you are the only lady actively rejecting possible suitors. If you really want to drive them away, you should just open your mouth and talk to them. That shall have them running for the hills.”

You narrow your eyes and wonder how much of a scolding you shall receive from your mother if you threw your drink in his face. He guesses what you must be thinking, cupping his hand over your glass and handing it to a nearby staff member.

He continues, stepping closer into your personal space. “Soon enough, the only ones who will be left in this ballroom will be me and you.”

“I loathe the day,” you hiss. “It would personally be my worst nightmare.”

He winks at you. “Trust me, you shall not find a gentleman better than me.”

You hear someone clearing their throat and you both glance over to see Kim Doyoung standing in front of you. You immediately drop to a curtsy at his presence, and you hear Jaehyun scoff at the fact that you did not grant him the same etiquette.

“I hope I am not interrupting, Miss,” Doyoung says.

“Of course not, Lord Kim,” you reply. “Lord Jeong was just telling me how he plans to retire early for the night.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow at you and you return his bewildered expression with a heated glare. You would be very content if he made himself useful somewhere else, likely with his hands underneath another maiden’s dress.

“Yes, it seems I have another obligation to head to for the night,” Jaehyun says through gritted teeth, displeased by your dismissal of him. “I shall thank your mother for being a spectacular host before my leave, Lord Kim.”

Doyoung nods once. “It would be much appreciated. Thank you, Lord Jeong.”

Jaehyun departs with one more scathing look thrown your way. You grin to yourself, happy to be rid of his presence, until Doyoung starts speaking and ruins your night.

“I have heard from your mother that you are in search of a husband. I find myself in a similar boat, and I would much enjoy it if you were to accept my offer for tea tomorrow afternoon.”

You could say no. It would not be hard to make up another excuse, but your mother would be absolutely livid to discover you have turned down an offer from Doyoung, especially after she practically handed him to you on a silver platter.

One afternoon of tea shall not kill you.

“That sounds lovely. I look forward to our discussion.”

When you turn to beeline for the exit, you catch a pair of eyes peering over at you, and you swear you see a flash of Jaehyun’s hair before he disappears into the crowd.

Hm. You must be seeing things.

—

Your mother acts as if afternoon tea with Doyoung equates to an audience with the king.

She dresses you in a gown she brings out for special occasions and has your handmaidens spray perfume on you until you are drowning in the floral scent. When she accompanies you to the tea parlor, she lists out your annoying habits that you should try to avoid.

You were not made aware that you possessed so many.

“And the way you look at him, darling, it is extremely unflattering. He can tell you hate him by the way you desire to burn him alive with your gaze. Stare at him with conviction. Make his loins stir from one simple glance at you.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Mother, I shall say that I find this advice to be highly unhelpful.”

She growls at you. “You are nearly four and twenty without a single acceptance for a suitor’s hand in marriage. You shall adhere to any advice I am willing to offer you.”

Doyoung helps take out your chair like a gentleman, and you thank him while your mother sits one table behind you, eavesdropping on your conversation.

He cuts straight to the chase. “What traits do you envision for your future husband to possess?”

Your grip tightens around your teacup. You wonder what to say to ward him off, to get him to move onto the next lady.

“A man who will let me maintain my own hobbies and interests. I want to have children on my own time, not on the timeline my husband sets for me,” you answer, knowing that it is not the typical response a lady of your breeding is supposed to say. You are supposed to submit to your husband’s preferences instead of prioritizing your own. “I ask that he respects my wishes and swears his loyalty to me. I will not, in any circumstances, marry a rake.”

“This one is all bark and no bite, Doyoung. I would not take her threats to heart.”

You clench your jaw when Jaehyun approaches your table with a wide smirk on his face. He appears to be dressed for tea as well, but you see no partner by his side to accompany him. He must be here simply to intervene in your meeting with Doyoung.

“Lord Jeong,” you greet in clear distaste. “I was not aware you had been frequenting tea parlors as of late.”

“Ah, you must not be enlightened of my many passions then,” he replies with a cheeky smile. You resist the urge to slap it off of his face. “The madam who runs this shop has a fond affection for me. I always like to drop by and grab a free pastry.”

“How kind of you to take from the hard work of the common people at no charge,” you challenge with the tilt of your head.

Doyoung clears his throat when he senses the tension between you and Jaehyun rising with every scathing remark. You glance back to see your mother staring at you in abhorrence, and you quickly straighten your posture and adjust your tone.

“I apologize, Lord Jeong. I have been enjoying my time with Lord Kim. I am certain you have somewhere else you need to be.”

Jaehyun, to your chagrin, pulls up a chair. “Actually, my schedule is wide open for the day. I would love to join you.”

Doyoung stares at you, wordlessly asking if this is normal behavior, but you are too pissed off to respond. If Jaehyun wanted to cause a scene, he could have done so when you are not trying to prove to your mother that you still care about searching for a husband.

Your fingernails dig into the corner of the table and you lean forward to hiss at Jaehyun.

“Are you positive you have nowhere else to be?”

He smiles. “Absolutely. Now, catch me up on what you two were discussing. I would love to throw my hat into the conversation.”

Evidently, you and Doyoung have yet to be on the same wavelength for what you should and should not bring up in front of Jaehyun.

“I was asking her what she looks for in her future spouse.”

Jaehyun turns to you with a smirk. “Oh, is that so? Well, please, do not silence yourself on my behalf. I would love to hear the answer.”

“I already gave it to him,” you say in exasperation. “Maybe we should turn the tables on you. What does a rake like Jeong Jaehyun look for in a wife? Likely one that easily spreads her legs?”

You hear a gasp from behind you, and you know it is your mother’s shock at your candor. But you shall not allow Jaehyun to get the better of you and humiliate you in front of Doyoung. You hardly care if this statement will earn you a reputation for your crass nature.

The corner of Jaehyun’s lips twitches in amusement, only fueling fire to your flame.

“I would like for my wife to challenge me. It is not as fun when they comply with my every demand,” he says, and you fail to realize how the distance between you has closed in your heated spat. “I like a lady who knows how to speak up for herself, to voice her thoughts without concern for anyone else’s feelings.”

You scoff. Where in the world is Jaehyun going to find a lady like that?

“Good luck with your search, Lord Jeong. I have conviction that there is at least one lady out there who is meant to be with you.”

“I really should be going,” Doyoung says, standing and nearly toppling over the table.

You glance up at him in alarm. “Oh, I am sorry, Lord Kim. Let me just gather my things and-”

“No need, Miss. It must have slipped my mind that my mother asked for my presence back at home. I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

He scurries out of the tea parlor as if the place had been set to flames. You stare after him with your jaw dropped, offended by his poor excuse to leave you behind.

You growl at Jaehyun. “Oh, you have seriously done it now, Jeong.”

“Come on. Do not tell me you were actually considering that man to be your husband.”

Your mother’s figure looms over you and you shyly look up to meet her judgmental gaze head on.

“I believe it is time for us to return home. We hope you have a wonderful evening, Lord Jeong.”

You’re dragged away by the crook of your arm, glaring at Jaehyun while your mother dishes out the biggest scolding you have ever received in your life.

—

“Your mother has brought me a proposal that I think may be in your favor.”

Your father is hesitant when he enters your study, catching you reading books by the fire. It is often the pastime you favor when your mother is upset with you, which has become more frequent in the past year. Your father is the one who searches out for you to try and talk you down, amending your qualms with your mother for a harmonious household.

“I shall not marry Kim Doyoung, father,” you say with the shake of your head. “He embarrassed me in front of the entire ton today! I will not be able to stave away the mortification for days.”

He sits next to you on the chaise lounge and looks at you solemnly.

“I have not come to converse about Kim Doyoung. I am speaking about Jeong Jaehyun.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What does Lord Jeong have to do with this? He is the reason why Lord Kim fled from me in the first place.”

Your father wrings his hands around nervously, and you speculate on what has him so antsy. He is usually very candid with you about your behavior, which means you must have crossed a hard line if he’s withholding information from you.

“Lord Jeong’s mother came around this afternoon after your incident at the tea parlor. She thinks her son is acting far too reckless and wants him to settle down. She is considering sending him to his uncle’s house in the country if he does not start listening to her wishes.”

“That does not sound like a bad idea,” you reply with a giggle.

He offers you a strained smile. “Yes, your mother was thinking the same thing. Except she was imagining it for you.”

You leap out of your seat. He must be lying. Your mother cannot possibly be entertaining the idea of shipping you off to her brother’s house. He lives on acres and acres of land without a soul in sight except for the farm animals he cares for.

It would be your absolute nightmare.

“Father, please tell me you objected to this,” you plead, your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach.

“Of course I did, darling,” he sighs, assuring you. “But then your mother and Lord Jeong’s came to an agreement that I could not oppose. I saved you from being shipped off, but in a few months’ time, you shall find yourself married to Jeong Jaehyun.”

You gasp. “F-Father, you cannot! You promised that I would get the final approval!”

He takes your hands in his and pulls you back towards his side. You are trembling at the picture of you and Jaehyun living as husband and wife. You would fight everyday and drive yourselves into a haze of madness.

“Darling, there shall never ever be a man good enough for you. I knew it from the day you were born, but your mother’s insistence on this matter has forced my hand. I think Jaehyun is a fine young man. You may not grow to love him, but he shall never put you in harm’s way. It is the most important quality a father can ask of his son-in-law.”

You start to tear up. “Please, father. Do not do this. Do not make me marry him.”

He pities you. “We shall start slow, darling. He shall be your escort to Mrs. Park’s upcoming ball and we shall ease into announcing your engagement. If he does anything untoward or compromises your virtue, I swear to you I shall back out of this deal.”

“But why can you not back out now?” You whine, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. “Why can you not save me now?”

He winces as if your pain physically brings him harm. You understand your father has bailed you out of your mother’s many propositions before, but you honestly cannot let this one slip through. Jaehyun is the exact opposite of who you envision yourself marrying.

He has to be just as horrified by this proposal as you are. You have no doubt he’s sitting in a similar situation to you, arguing with his mother over her ultimate decision to alter the course of his life. This must be the first agreement you have landed on in history.

“You shall not realize it now, but I am saving you from a lifetime of heartache, trust me.”

You spend the rest of the night weeping in your bedchamber, burdened by Jaehyun’s constant overbearing presence in your life. You think back on all of the memories you have of him, and if this changes the way you feel about your inevitable coupling.

—

When you first met Jaehyun, it had been your first season out in society. You were optimistic back then, drinking in the fairytales of finding your one true love at your first ball.

You were not the only one jaded by love as many of the other ladies your age had fantasized about their first ball as an eligible lady for years. You would gossip to each other while promenading around the veranda, dreaming of the young bachelor who would swoop you up in his arms and make all your dreams come true.

You had known a few of the men from growing up with them as noble families. They were usually brothers of your closest friends, and your nose would twist in disgust at the thought of being courted by them. You were stubborn about your choice in a husband even back then.

Jaehyun had been the talk of the town that year. He already made an impression on the older ladies, winning them to his side with his dimples and classic charm. You heard of him through Yerim and how many of the other ladies were vying after the massive amount of wealth in his estate. He was one of the richest bachelors of the season, and any lady who was wed to him would automatically be elevated to a higher social status.

You assumed that because of his upbringing, he would act in a more gentleman-like fashion than the rest of his peers. You were proved wrong by his display of behavior at your first ball.

“Is he planning to dance with every lady in this room?” You asked Yerim, watching as Jaehyun once again swept through the floor with a different lady latched onto his arm. “I mean, every dance card in this place has his name written on it.”

She laughed at you. “Can you blame him? He has a lot of prospects. Everyone knows he’s the first pick of the season.”

“It is disrespectful. He is toying with their feelings for his own amusement. I do not like it.”

She poked you with a twinkle of mischief sparkling in her eyes. “No, you do not like that he has not asked you. You want a chance with him, do you not?”

You scoffed at the assumption. “Absolutely not. I have my sights set on a much higher man than Lord Jeong.”

You were so adamant on your superiority over him that when he approached you later that night for a dance, you swiftly rejected him.

“I think you have had enough dances for the night. Would you not agree, Lord Jeong?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, likely wondering what he had done to already get on your bad side.

“One more shall not bring me harm. Unless your dancing skills are not up to par, Miss?”

You grinned at him. “My dancing skills are meant for a man who shall actually appreciate my talents instead of using me to cross another name off his list.”

That was the first time you had drawn Jaehyun’s interest.

—

Your mother had not been so gracious with you by your second year.

You had fumbled through a shoddy proposal from Kim Jungwoo, who was far too nervous to actually place a ring on your finger. You unfortunately injured his ego way too far for him to recover, and he quickly withdrew his proposal with his tail tucked between his legs.

Your mother blamed you for the ordeal and ordered at least five new dresses for you to present yourself in your second season. Luckily, Yerim had not caught any gentleman callers either, and you two began flocking together at every event.

By then, Jaehyun’s infamous status as a rake had spread across the ton.

He had been spotted slipping out of brothels late at night, flirting with married women when their husbands were away, and escorting random ladies to balls just for the fun of it. You never possessed a single ounce of respect for him.

Despite this, Jaehyun would not seem to leave you alone.

Every time you turned a corner, he would be there, waiting to surprise you with an insult or tease you about your almost-marriage with Jungwoo.

“Must we keep meeting like this?” He said after the season was nearly halfway over and you had just turned down another suggestion to dance. He stalked you all the way to the bowl of lemonade while you tried to ignore his grating voice. “No one here is up to your caliber?”

“What do you want, Jeong?” You spat out, tired of his nonsense. “I thought you would be halfway down the street by now, searching for an open brothel.”

He chuckled at your jest. “They have put up warning signs about me to all the women. Apparently I caused a few too many internal fights over my rugged good looks.”

You rolled your eyes. “I find it more likely that they figured out you are sexually impotent.”

“There is only one way to find out for yourself, hm?”

“I would rather gauge my own eyes out.”

“What’s the matter? Am I not as pretty as Jungwoo?”

Johnny Suh had been the one to rescue you, asking you for a dance, which was the first offer you accepted that night. You would glance to the side from time to time to catch Jaehyun’s gaze following you around the floor, but you preoccupied yourself by staying near Johnny, preventing the loathsome creature from approaching you again.

—

Johnny had gotten married to Lady Joohyun by the next year, leaving you without a regular dance partner in your third season. Many believed he would propose to you, but you knew that he had only wanted to make Joohyun jealous after his confession to you one night.

Jaehyun, surprisingly, did not bother you whenever you were with Johnny. He had been noticeably absent from any ball where Johnny was your escort.

You believed your luck had taken a turn until your first appearance after Johnny’s marriage.

“Well well well,” you heard his drawl from a mile away. Yerim looked at you hesitantly after you tensed by her side. “Look who has decided to make an appearance on her own.”

At the time, you were giddy about your chances of a husband that season. Many noblemen had returned from vacation with friends and distant relatives accompanying them, nearly doubling the pool of gentlemen at your disposal.

You were absolutely not going to allow Jaehyun to ruin the year for you. You decided to play civil, to hopefully make amends and let bygones be bygones.

“Lord Jeong,” you greeted with a curtsy, which had Jaehyun stifling a chuckle. “How lovely to see you here.”

“Is it?” He replied with a raise of his eyebrow. “If I recall, you compared me to a horrid bug staining the bottom of your shoe just a few months ago.”

Yerim pursed her lips to prevent a cacophony of laughter from slipping out. You squeezed her arm with a scolding glance.

“That was the old me, Lord Jeong. I am a new woman, so you see. I am about to become a bride after all.”

“A bride? To whom have you been betrothed to? I have heard no news of your engagement,” he said in a flurry, his eyes flashing with a panic for reasons unbeknownst to you.

“You have not heard news of my engagement yet,” you emphasized. “The night is young and I am a very willing maiden. Therefore, if you’ll excuse us-”

“If you are so willing, then shall you entertain me with a dance?” He questioned as he held out one hand, challenging you.

You clenched your jaw in frustration. You were all in favor of extending an olive branch, but dancing with him at the first ball of the season was a tad too far. You did not want to be making a statement for yourself by befriending Jaehyun’s company.

The ladies would assume you held no dignity for yourself and the gentlemen would be appalled by your association with him.

“I have already promised my first dance with Lord Lee,” you lied through your teeth. You knew Donghyuck would not mind dancing with you just to save you from Jaehyun. “I shall see you around, Lord Jeong.”

If you had known better, you would have caught the dejected expression on Jaehyun’s face after you refused him. But all you could remember from that night was his teasing smirk and the playful lilt in his voice as he mocked you.

—

Your memories of Jaehyun do not assure you in the slightest that your parents have made the right decision.

Yerim comes over the next morning after the news of your forced marriage, soothing your cries with warm pastries and fresh tea. She rubs your back while you lay in bed, moaning for your misfortune.

“It is not that horrible,” she says in an attempt to pacify you. “At least he is good looking.”

You blink up at her. “Are you serious? I hardly care about his looks, Yerim! He is deplorable! He does not have a single redeeming quality. My mother wants to ruin my life, I am positive about that fact. How could any other suitor ever want me again once I have been tainted by Jeong Jaehyun?”

She chews on her lower lip. “I know you are not fond of him, but he may not say the same for you.”

Her statement has you peeking over your pillow, curious to hear more. She catches your gaze and exhales sharply.

“Have you ever noticed that he attends events when he knows you plan to be there? Or how he talks about you to everyone who will listen? He may have a reputation for being a rake, but you are the only lady he has asked to dance with since our first season.”

The information slowly dawns on you, but Yerim must be imagining things. Jaehyun has never felt any real romantic feelings towards you. You remain faithful that you share this conviction with him.

You shake your head. “He is deluding you as well. Trust me, Yerim, I know where Jaehyun’s true feelings lie.”

She eventually helps you get out of bed and you fail to exchange a single word with your mother while you break your fast. Yerim nudges for you to say the first word but you refuse.

Your mother only acknowledges your presence later in the night when you are due to be escorted to your first public appearance with Jaehyun.

“You are not dressed.”

You brush your hair in front of the mirror, humming softly to yourself. Yerim left to prepare herself in her own home, but you wish she had stayed to help you fight this battle with your mother.

“That is because I am not going.”

“Whatever game this is that you are playing, I do not find it amusing in the slightest. Lord Jeong will be here within the next hour and I expect you to welcome him downstairs with a proper gown and your best smile.”

As your handmaidens help you into your dress, they exchange knowing glances with each other until you grow tired of their mind games.

“May I inquire what has piqued your interest?” You ask in a bored tone.

Seulgi, your handmaiden of over five years, smiles gently at you. She has been dressing you since your first season, and is very aware how irritated you can get during times like these.

“The staff have just been discussing, Miss, since your mother announced your plans for engagement. We have been in communication with the staff employed at Lord Jeong’s household.”

You perk up slightly. “Is that so? And what have you discovered?”

Seulgi beams at you. “Lord Jeong is positively delighted by your coupling. The staff has never seen him more alert. He has been placing orders for brand new decor for your wing of the house and has requested for his staff to research your favorite delicacies to stock the cupboards. It is quite endearing.”

You frown. Jaehyun has wormed his way into the minds of your handmaidens too. His ability to manipulate others should honestly be lauded.

“How sweet of him,” you say through gritted teeth, holding back your true feelings. Although they spend more time with you, your handmaidens are employed by your mother, which means anything you say in front of them could be parroted back to her.

You devise a plan while they continue to adorn you in jewelry and work at pinning up your hair. If you could get Jaehyun to call off this marriage, you are certain his mother would relent. Your cries may go unanswered because you are simply a woman who was born into the right family, but Jaehyun will run his own household after he is married, which means he has superiority over his mother’s decisions.

You hear his voice filter from up the stairs when you walk out of your room.

“It is honestly my pleasure, madam. Your daughter is a gift that I promise to treasure.”

You huff. Where does he keep pulling these lines from?

As you walk down the steps, you take in the scene unfolding in your foyer. Your parents are speaking to Jaehyun with radiating smiles, laughing at every little thing he says. His mother stands closely behind him, joining in on the laughter with a chuckle here and there.

When your heel hits the last step, they turn to you. For the first time, you identify the twinkle in Jaehyun’s eye that tells you he’s excited to see you.

Could Yerim be right? Does Jeong Jaehyun like you?

“There she is,” your mother says, tugging you over and pretending she wasn’t upset with you an hour ago. “She is beautiful, is she not, Lord Jeong?”

“Stunning,” he whispers, and you desperately want to punch him in the face.

“Let us head out, shall we? We do not want to run late,” you say, itching to remove yourself from the spotlight. Jaehyun nods in agreement, outstretching his arm for you to take it, and you reluctantly wrap your fingers around his bicep. You lead the way to the carriage waiting outside, murmuring loudly under your breath so Jaehyun can hear you. “You are so dead to me, Jeong.”

He helps you into your carriage, and you don’t miss the pained look in his eyes as he forces a smile onto his face.

—

Jaehyun never wanted to fall in love.

He has witnessed enough of his friends losing their sanity over the matter, finding themselves on the receiving end of their mother’s meddling into their lives. Some of them have found happiness while the others have settled for what they were given.

Although Jaehyun is the only child and he knows he must marry to continue his lineage, he never imagined he would marry for love. He would likely find a well-bred lady, one who would simply finish her duty in childbearing and leave him alone otherwise.

Before tying himself to her, he desired a little recklessness in his life. He tugged on the heartstrings of the ladies in the ton and stopped by brothels when he was searching for something quick and fast. It earned him a reputation but he hardly cared about what other noble families thought of him. He knew at the end of the day, they prioritized the wealth of his estate far more than his outside trysts, which means he would have no issue in securing a wife when he wanted to.

He really was not intending on taking an interest in you.

His mother had educated him on the ladies of his season, so he knew a little of your background. You are also the only child in your family, but being born a daughter means you must get married to receive an ounce of your father’s wealth. Still, this fact never seems to spur you on in your quest for a husband. He has noticed other ladies approach him quite confidently yet you stay sidelined at every ball, waiting for the gentlemen to come to you, even though you refuse most of their offers to dance.

And he shall admit that your adamant refusal to dance with him has him intrigued.

Although the other ladies are appalled by his reputation, they remain courteous enough to accept a dance or two, mingling with him when they see fit. Since his first season, Jaehyun has made it his own personal mission to get you to join him on the floor, come hell or high water.

He just never expected forcing you to marry him as being the catalyst for you to adhere to his wishes.

“You shall tell your mother that you want to call this marriage off,” you say as soon as the swell of the music starts and you take to the floor.

He takes a step towards you with a raised eyebrow. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I am positively certain I will make your life a living hell if I become your wife. You may not favor me now, but you shall surely detest me once I am finished with you.”

But as you twirl around the floor, he fails to find his voice to tell you that he does not harbor any hatred for you at all. You may play those parts in public and it may be true for you, but Jaehyun has never thought of you as the chip on his shoulder.

The rest of the ton stares at you with wide eyes, whispering to one another about the sudden closeness between you.

“Is marrying me such a stain on your character? What, am I not on par with the likes of Kim Jungwoo and Johnny Suh?”

It infuriated him to no end when Jungwoo was courting you. The man did not even know a single thing about you! He was lured in by your pretty face, and Jaehyun snickered to himself when Jungwoo soon discovered that you have an independent mind, judging the man whenever he uttered the wrong thing. Jaehyun was over the moon when Jungwoo ended your courtship.

Johnny, however, was a player that Jaehyun was not expecting. The man was tall, handsome, and could definitely handle your sharp edges better than Jungwoo. Jaehyun worried that you two would actually marry so he shipped himself off for a vacation to avoid seeing you walk down the aisle. He was content when he returned home and learned you were still single.

“Marrying you would tarnish my reputation. I cannot imagine the other ladies respecting the woman who ties herself to the world’s most infamous rake.”

He falters at the insult from you. When his mother had approached him with the idea to marry you, she expected him to swiftly turn it down, so it came as a surprise that he accepted the deal fairly quickly. He honestly could not stand the thought of you marrying the boring Kim Doyoung. The man would not understand how to entertain you, how to keep you on your toes and humor you.

He would never say it out loud, but the prospect of you becoming his wife satisfied him. He could already picture you running his estate with an iron fist, organizing the awful ledgers he has to sort through and checking if each member of the staff is well taken care of.

He wants it. He wants to wake up next to you. He wants to dance with you when there is no one else around. He wants to bury himself into you, listen to your sweet little moans as he tangles a hand through your hair-

He shakes his head to ward away the lewd thoughts threatening to crawl forward. The music slowly comes to a lull, and before he can stop you, you are darting out of his grasp and heading towards the balcony.

He sees your mother attempt to follow you but he stops her with the raise of his hand. He shadows you, keeping his eyes trained on the floral pattern of your gown.

He stops when you saunter out, slamming the doors shut behind you as you lean over the railing to catch your breath. He observes you silently, watching as you sigh and run your fingers through your hair, taking it out of its neat updo.

He waits a little before joining you in the open space.

“I did not realize I would become such a burden for you,” he whispers as you stand side by side.

You scowl at him. “How did you think I would react? Did you think I would jump into your arms and you would carry me off into the sunset?”

“You hate all of the gentlemen in the ton. You have to concede to this fact. And I understand I am not better than the rest of them, but you know me. I would never bend your will or coerce you into submission. You will be free to do as you please, I will not prevent you from your happiness.”

“But you are preventing me! Does this not register with you? I do not want to marry you. You must feel the same way, do you not?”

He hesitates, and the brief second seems to confirm your answer. You exhale and your hands tighten their grip on the railing.

“How long?” You ask in a small voice.

He swallows. “I do not know.”

“I cannot marry you, Jaehyun.”

“I shall inform my mother of your decision tonight. I apologize for causing you grief.”

You spin and saunter back into the ballroom, leaving Jaehyun’s heart crumpled into a mess on the floor.

—

Jaehyun plans to escape his troubles by embarking on a year-long vacation.

Perhaps it is enough time to move on from you, to stop worrying about you all the time and wondering who you might be with. His announcement to the staff about ending your engagement before it has even come to life has his mother in tears. They were instructed to halt all preparations for your wing of the estate and to eat whatever stock of food they had purchased for you.

He’s barely holding himself together as he packs up his things, intent on leaving and not coming back until he is ready to face high society again.

“Lord Jeong, you have a visitor at the door.”

“I am fairly occupied,” he says without missing a beat, grabbing any article of clothing he can find and throwing it into his suitcase.

But then they tell him that you are the one waiting by the door, and that has his feet moving swiftly.

You are fidgeting in the foyer, squirming as members of his household staff walk around you, carrying pieces of the decor that was meant for your bedroom.

“Lord Jeong,” you say with a curtsy, and his eyebrows furrow from the contrast of your behavior last night to today.

“How may I help you?” He asks coldly, desperately wanting to distance himself from you. You never make any task easy for him.

“I wanted to continue our conversation.”

“I did not think there was much more to say. You made your feelings very clear.”

“May we speak in private?”

He guides you into his office, leaving the door open an inch in an effort not to compromise you. You clear your throat once you are alone.

“I have thought it over and have decided to accept your proposal.”

He narrows his eyes. “You have decided to accept? Forgive me, but the last time we spoke, you distinctly voiced your opposition to marrying me. What has changed?”

You look away, your mouth twisting in the way it does when you are particularly peeved by him.

“You are right,” you admit begrudgingly. “I do not like any of the gentlemen in the ton, and I fear I never will. At least with you, I shall still have my freedom and get my mother off my back. I cannot stand another season of this — the balls, the dresses, the constant dancing. I am tired and I just want to live.”

The tension in his shoulders starts to fade. It is not exactly what he wants to hear, but he will take your acceptance if it means he does not have to leave for a year just to forget you.

“So we are carrying through with this?”

You purse your lips. “I cannot fall in love with you. Not in the way you want me to.”

He nods. “T-That is perfectly fine. I was not expecting you to.”

“And we will forgo childbearing until it is absolutely necessary.”

“That sounds plausible.”

“And Yerim is allowed to come over whenever it suits her.”

“Of course.”

You chew on your bottom lip and he resists the urge to take it in between his teeth.

“Where is my ring?”

He blinks twice. “Forgive me?”

“My ring. You must have one picked out.”

He pats his pockets but blanches when he realizes he’s not carrying his mother’s ring with him.

“Can you wait here for a second?”

He sprints upstairs to his mother’s room, startling her handmaidens when he pounds on her door. She opens it with wide eyes.

“Jaehyun, what-”

“Where is your ring?” He asks breathlessly. “The one that father gave you?”

“In my jewelry box. Why?”

“May I have it? Now? Please?”

She fumbles around to look for it, and Jaehyun bounces on the balls of his feet while he waits, fearful that if he does not get that ring on your finger, you shall disappear through the front door and he will never see you again. As soon as his mother hands him the band, he runs back down to his office, relieved when he sees you still standing by the window.

He drops to one knee in front of you and you stare back at him, unamused. He decides to skip the speech in case you change your mind, slipping the ring on your finger as you admire the diamond sparkling in the light.

“It is beautiful,” you murmur, and he thanks the heavens for your approval. You lower your hand as you state, “I shall not attend another lousy ball just for show. We shall wed as soon as we can and negotiate the details after.”

Like a puppy chasing after its tail, he submits to your every request, dreaming of you and him under one roof.

—

The next week is chaos in the Jeong household.

Members of the staff rush left and right, preparing themselves for a wedding they thought had been called off. The favorite gossip of the ton have been surrounding your wedding, pertaining to why you were getting married this quickly, how you went from despising one another to falling in love, and if tying the knot would finally promote Jaehyun from being a rake to a proper lord.

Jaehyun is keen to sit back and watch it all unfold. He has barely seen you as you have been wrapped up in dress fittings and moving your belongings into his home.

It is only the night before your wedding that you rush to his office in a panicked state.

He is startled when the door swings open and you stand there in nothing but your nightgown. You hold a candle in your hand as you scurry to his side.

“What-” he starts, wondering what could be troubling you.

“My mother has divulged to me what a husband is meant to do to his wife on the night of their wedding. I shall inform you that I do not approve of such indiscretions, if that was not made clear before.”

His cheeks flush red when it dawns on him what you must be referring to. Yes, he has conjured up many fantasies late at night, but he never assumed you would willingly lie with him on your first night together as husband and wife.

“Y-Yes, that is understood.”

“Furthermore, I shall not become the wife who sits idly by while you run to a brothel to satisfy your needs. You shall only lie with me, when I feel I am prepared and ready to accept you.”

He leans back in his seat, one eyebrow raised. “Do you think so low of me that I would disrespect you in such a public fashion?”

You huff. “Jaehyun, I am astonished that you have not done so already.”

He narrows his eyes. Before he can retort, the door bursts wide open again and your handmaiden comes rushing in.

“I apologize profusely, Lord Jeong!” She cries. “We were not made aware of her destination. You are not meant to see her like this-”

“You do not need to apologize to him, Seulgi,” you interject with a sigh. “And he shall learn to see all sides of me soon enough.”

Your handmaiden stutters for a response but you poke your finger at Jaehyun with a stern gaze.

“Do not dare forget what I said.”

“How can I when you come traipsing through here in the middle of the night, disturbing me before the biggest day of our lives?”

You exit with a dramatic flair, slamming the doors behind you as your handmaiden follows after. He slumps in his chair, exhausted and wondering how far he has to go to earn your trust.

His mother wakes him the next morning bright and early, chirping happily for the marriage she has waited years for. He readies himself on his own, pulling on his stuffy suit and tie. He thinks about how you must be faring with the glitz and glamour.

His mother and yours had invited almost the entire population of the city to the wedding. People that Jaehyun has never met in his life greet him at the chapel, congratulating him for the momentous occasion. He thanks them with a nervous smile, worried if you will actually show up at the end of the aisle.

Thankfully, when the music plays and the doors open, you step out, dressed in a long, satin white gown. He loses his breath when he looks at you, the picture perfect beauty of a bride. You hesitate under the scrutiny of the ton’s gazes, tightening your grip around your father’s arm.

Jaehyun inhales and exhales slowly. His heart is beating so hard that he can hear the thumping echo in his ears. He can hardly believe this day has come, and even more so that you agreed to marry him.

You must be running through the same thought process, for when your father hands you over to Jaehyun, you stare at him wide eyed. He takes your hand in his, soothing you by running his thumb over the back of your wrist. It unwinds you a little when you stand in front of the priest.

The priest drones on and on about eternal love and the sacred vow between husband and wife. Jaehyun keeps his eyes trained on you, watching you from the corner of his eye to ensure you are faring well.

When you turn to him to seal your lips in a kiss, his heart stops beating.

“Breathe,” he whispers just before his mouth touches yours. He can feel you trembling in his hold.

“Why do they have to keep looking at us?” You murmur.

“Because you are too pretty for them to look away.”

“You are full of it, Lord Jeong.”

His tongue traces over your bottom lip before he can stop himself. A couple’s first kiss at their wedding should be a light peck, something God would approve of.

Jaehyun does not give a damn what God thinks.

There is a small gasp in the audience when his tongue slips into your mouth. You arch into him, calm for the first time in hours.

When you break away, you blink up at him, and his curiosity flares up. Did it feel good for you too?

The crowd erupts in applause and you step away from him, smiling shyly at them. Jaehyun kicks into autopilot, walking you back down the aisle as you laugh with the people surrounding you.

When you are escorted into the gardens for your reception, he swallows.

“Well, it is over.”

You purse your lips. “Y-Yes. That kiss was-”

Your mother comes around the corner, crying as she envelops you in a hug. You pat her back awkwardly as she sobs.

“Oh, darling, I am so happy for you! So, so happy!”

Then Jaehyun’s mother mobs him, cooing about how handsome he looks. You find yourselves on opposite ends of the large space, controlling the flock of people who demand to know the next steps of your marriage.

Jaehyun fields questions left and right that are clearly an invasion of his privacy.

“How many children do you two want to have?”

“I think the best time to start making babies is right after the wedding. It’s when your hormones are at their peak. Do you not agree, Lord Jeong?”

“My theory is that you should lock yourselves away for at least two months so the seed will sprout and grow. Does that not sound wonderful?”

By the time he finds his way back to you, you both are worse for wear.

“Lord Jeong, Lady Jeong!”

You grab Jaehyun’s hand and sprint into the hedge maze. He tries not to trip over your skirt as you weave through the walls of the garden, catching your breath once you find yourselves trapped in the middle.

“They are incessant vultures!” You hiss, ripping the veil from your hair and tossing it to the side. “I mean, honestly. Who granted them the authority to decide when and how I should have a child?”

“Lady Baek almost gave me advice on how her husband gets it up! As if I need to hear such disturbing counsel regarding a man about to turn seventy!” He grunts.

You shudder. “We shall camp out here until they have all grown too tired to stick around. What was my mother thinking when she invited that many people?”

You collapse on the ground together, paying no mind to the grass stains covering your dress or the dirt coating the bottom of his pants. You listen to the steady sound of each other’s breathing, grateful to be away from the incessant noise.

He clears his throat. “What were you saying earlier? About the kiss?”

You cough. “Oh, um, nothing. It was merely surprising, that is all.”

“Sorry if I did not live up to your expectations.”

“That was not what I meant,” you mumble, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. “I hardly expected you to kiss me so… passionately. In all of the weddings I have attended, the groom never devours his bride like that.”

“I did not devour you,” he corrects, flustered by your accusation.

A moment passes before you burst into a fit of laughter. He should be mad with you, but when he glances over to see you giggling into your palm, he finds the corners of his lips lifting upwards.

You settle into your harmonious laughter for a few minutes, riding on the blissful cloud of your new marriage. He did not think it had become such a huge burden on his shoulders, but he is relieved he no longer has to deal with mingling in crowded ballrooms, debating on whether he should ask you to dance or leave entirely.

The recollection has him springing to his feet. You stare up at him in confusion when he holds out his hand.

“Join me.”

“You cannot be serious, Jaehyun.”

He clicks his tongue. “I obliged to all of your rules. Come here and dance with me.”

You grumble as he helps pull you up. Once you are in his arms, he wraps a hand around your waist, holding you steady as you rest your hand on his shoulder.

The moonlight dances over your features and he swears he has never seen a sight more beautiful.

“Yerim was telling me something the other day that I found interesting,” you say.

He quirks up an eyebrow. “What did she say?”

“That you only attend balls when I am present. And that you will speak about me to anyone who will listen.”

“Do not let it go to your head,” he teases weakly.

You do not allow him to escape that easily because evidently, you love to embarrass him at any given chance.

“How long, Jaehyun?”

He thinks about the night out on the balcony when you were asking him this question with the intention to break his heart and never return.

“A long time,” he confesses. “Likely when we first met.”

You shake your head. “Why? Why me? Out of all the women in the ton-”

“The rest of the women in the ton could never hold a candle to you,” he swears, looking deep into your eyes, hoping you memorize every word. “I know you think of me as a reckless rake who will insert myself into any woman’s bed, but you must know how devoted I am to you. You are the only person I find myself laughing with, the only person who can keep up with me and drive me insane all at once. I dream of you. I understand this marriage is all a means to an end to you, but you are the only lady I have ever wanted.”

He nearly chokes when you pounce on him, smashing your lips together until he’s stumbling back into the hedges. His hands rest on your hips as you chase after him.

Your tongues fight for dominance and he realizes just how hungry he is. He has been holding himself back to preserve your dignity, but with God as his witness, you are now his wife and he gets to make you writhe in pleasure if it is his sole desire.

He bunches up your skirt, slipping his hand underneath the mountains of fabric. He growls when your corset gets in the way of the prize he really wants.

“Get this off,” he hisses, tugging at the tight strands that hug your bodice.

“Our mothers will come looking for us,” is all you can reply with.

“I do not care,” he says. “I need you.”

But a gasp interrupts your fervent entanglement. You jump apart to see his mother standing in front of you, appalled by the sight of you two.

“Jeong Jaehyun, I raised you to be a gentleman!” She scolds, approaching you and helping you look presentable again. You avoid her glare. “You both need a lesson in understanding what is acceptable for you to do in public. Just because you are married does not give you the right to behave like animals!”

She tugs you away with a huff, and Jaehyun’s head crashes against the hedge, his cock aching to be stuffed inside you.

—

You are avoiding your husband.

You do not know what has gotten into you. At first, you were loathing the creature you were forced to marry, hoping one day he would magically incinerate and you could avoid having to call him your husband. But then he was confessing to you, telling you everything a lady has always wanted to hear.

It is the first time you have ever experienced the spark of attraction to a gentleman. It is the first time you became content in getting married. It is the first time you felt… desire.

But you are not supposed to let Jeong Jaehyun get the best of you. You hide away in the daytime at Yerim’s home, brushing off her probing questions.

“It’s your honeymoon. Should you not be at home?”

You smile tightly at her. “And miss spending time with you? Of course not. Now, tell me all about Na Jaemin.”

You do not return back to the Jeong estate until supper, where you have a tense gathering with your husband across the dining table. True to his word, Jaehyun refuses to touch you until you initiate it first, which is driving you both mad with insatiable lust.

“How was your day with Yerim?” He asks stiffly, spooning soup into his mouth.

“G-Good. Sir Na has taken a liking to her. He lives in the countryside, however, and I selfishly do not want her to move away if they are to be betrothed.”

“Yes, it might be quite terrible if you were left alone in the presence of your husband with nowhere to flee.”

You narrow your eyes. “If you are insinuating something, Jaehyun, then please do not subject me to your mind games. I would rather you speak the truth.”

He smiles devilishly. “You first.”

You keep your mouth sealed shut for the rest of the meal. Even when you prepare yourselves to climb into bed together, your bedroom is filled with such unspeakable tension that you could cut with a knife.

You occupy yourself by opening a book, observing from the corner of your eye as Jaehyun turns on his side and blows his candle out. You tap your nails against the hardcover, blurting out your next statement before you can stop yourself.

“You never told me about your day.”

He muses over how to reply before he states, “I was lonely, craving a wife who wants nothing to do with me.”

You pout like a child. “I told you I am not going to fall in love with you.”

“I remember.”

It’s summer when Yerim and Jaemin get engaged. Yerim’s mother is so thrilled that she hosts a celebration party, where you and Jaehyun attend arm-in-arm, pretending to be civil with one another. You are bombarded with an onslaught of questions pertaining to how your marriage is faring, and if the ton can expect a new baby boy or girl to arrive any day now.

You stick with the excuse of, “We are trying,” to get them to go away.

Yerim pulls you aside to her bedchamber later that night, smiling widely. The joy in her expression has not left her face all night, and it comforts you to know she will be taken care of in the countryside, despite being so far from you.

“What a night!” She exclaims, falling on her mattress in glee. “I have never been this happy before, I swear it to you.”

“I can tell,” you laugh, patting her knee. “It satisfies me to know Jaemin has you this giddy.”

She chews her lip when she sits up, and she has the expression on her face that screams she has a secret.

“Can I tell you something? In the confidence of our friendship?”

“Of course,” you say, sitting next to her on the bed.

She twiddles her thumbs, clearly thrumming with nervousness. “The other day, Jaemin and I were alone.”

You gasp. “Yerim! You are not supposed to be with him unchaperoned until after you are wed!”

Her cheeks bloom a bright shade of red. “We did a lot of things we are supposed to do after we are wed.”

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and the prompt scolding you are about to give her dies down in your throat.

“W-What did he do?”

“Amazing things,” she exhales dreamily. “Do you know how good it feels when they put their mouth… down there?”

“Yerim!” You say, scandalized.

She giggles. “So you and Jaehyun still have not-”

“No,” you confirm with the shake of your head. “No, we have not. And we will not until we absolutely need to.”

She nudges your shoulder. “He is your husband now, you know. Not a rake who is looking to bed you just because he can.”

You clear your throat and rise from your spot on the bed. “We should head back downstairs. People might be searching for you.”

She’s slightly downcast by your quick dismissal but follows you without protest. You are warm from the brief discussion, imagining what Jaehyun would look like nestled in between your thighs, staring up at you with unadulterated hunger.

The vision abruptly leaves your mind once you land on the last step, spotting your husband being flanked by Sooyoung, a girl he used to be very friendly with. She is giggling at him, her hand caressing his bicep as she hangs off his every word.

You freeze, your throat growing dry at your husband openly flirting with another lady in front of you. In Jaehyun’s defense, he does not seem to be paying any attention to her, his eyes fluttering around the room.

When he finds you, you dart towards the exit, ignoring both Yerim and Jaehyun’s cries of your name. As you request for your carriage to be brought forward, a hand wraps around your wrist.

“You have made assumptions.”

You tear your hand away from Jaehyun with a glare. “I hardly care who you speak to. I am going home, the party’s over.”

He growls your name and the staff lingering nearby pretend to look disinterested.

“Do not behave like this.”

Once your carriage rolls up, you climb in, refusing Jaehyun’s help. You try to close the door behind you but your husband pushes his way inside, preventing you from making your dramatic escape.

“I do not possess any feelings for Sooyoung,” he sighs. “I never have.”

“I do not care! I am merely humiliated by the fact that you would display your affection for her in front of everyone! I know those people, Jaehyun, and I strictly told you before we were married that I would not become the wife who would stand idly by while her husband is wrapped up in an affair!”

“I am not in an affair!” You are both screaming too loud to hide your troubles from the outside. “I have never had an affair. I am devoted to you! I dream of you! How many times must I say this to you? Sooyoung approached me, asking me how I have been. I told her I was not interested in her folly and I was waiting for your return. What took you so long with Yerim anyways?”

You are riled up with anger and frustration. “She was educating me about how a proper husband takes care of his wife. Tell me, did you ever get on your knees for Sooyoung? Did you press your mouth in between her thighs?”

His eyebrows raise to his hairline, clearly not expecting you to quip back with that. You fold your arms across your chest, pouting and refusing to look at him.

You gasp when his hands suddenly pull up your dress and he sinks to his knees. You back yourself up against the wall of the carriage.

“Jaehyun, what are you doing?” You hiss.

“If you wanted to know what it feels like, you could have just asked.”

You glance around worriedly but the carriage still moves on, and the drapery covering the windows protects anyone from the outside to witness your husband wiggling his way underneath your dress.

You do not stop him, interested in how determined he is to prove himself to you. Your fingertips dart out to hold the sides of the carriage when his lips graze over your core.

You cup a hand over your mouth to keep your moans at bay. You have never dared to touch yourself in your most sensitive area. It’s unseemly for a lady of your status, and you feel as if you shall be damned to hell if you ever crossed that line.

But Jaehyun is your husband, so this must be allowed in heaven, right?

You lurch forward when his tongue runs over your folds. You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as he starts to lick at your dripping cunt. He laps at you as if you are his next meal and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You are entirely too sensitive that you could cry, your body shuddering as Jaehyun buries himself deeper into your pussy.

The carriage comes to a halt as you sob, your hands tangling into his hair as your peak washes over you. When he pops his head back up, he’s grinning with your slick covering his chin.

“How was it, my dear wife?”

“Get inside the house.”

The staff are flustered when you scramble past them. Jaehyun’s hands dig into the flesh of your waist as he leads you inside, dismissing the staff by hoisting you up on the singular table in the foyer, knocking down his mother’s favorite vase.

You bring his mouth to yours as the spark inside you bursts into flames. Months of tension finally unravel as he pushes your thighs apart, slotting himself in until he’s rolling down into your core.

“Jaehyun,” you whine. “Please.”

“Did Yerim tell you what men can do with their fingers?” He asks, his bottom lip dragging over your jawline.

“N-No.”

You squeak when he unlaces your corset, practically ripping it in half in his efforts to peel it off of you. His mouth is drawn to the swell of your breasts, taking your exposed nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the bud.

A maid comes from around the corner at the sound of the broken glass from the vase, but she chokes when she sees her employers dangling off a tiny table, enraptured in one another.

When he slips a finger inside you, you’re driven wild with lust. None of the noble lords and ladies would recognize you if they saw you now, encouraging your husband to use his teeth while sucking at your breasts and begging him to stuff more fingers inside your cunt.

“Dear God,” you sob when his thumb circles at your clit.

You have never felt pleasure like this in your entire life. Is this why women get married? Is this why they subject themselves to uncomfortable corsets and boring dances?

“You like it, do you not?” He questions in a mocking tone, hovering over you with a darkened gaze. “Imagine how we could have had this months ago if you had only swallowed your pride. Falling in love with me does not sound so horrifying anymore, does it?”

His teeth sink into the juncture of your neck as you chant his name. You cum when he inserts another digit inside your wet hole, curling his fingers forward, causing you to feel boneless in his grasp.

“I will not have our first time be like this,” he says, licking his fingers clean and carrying you in his arms.

“The bedroom is too far,” you reply, wanting to jump his bones immediately.

He chuckles. “You made me wait months. I think you can handle a few minutes.”

The room is spotless when you walk in, making you feel slightly guilty for ruining the staff’s hard work. But then Jaehyun drops you on the mattress and unlaces his breeches, and your focus hones in on his lower half. Your vision grows heavy when he reveals himself.

You never quite understood what gentlemen were packing down there, but you surely never would have guessed this. His member is long, thick, and veiny, startling you when he wraps a hand around his base.

“W-What are you planning to do with that?”

He laughs. “My wife, this is meant to go inside you.”

Your brain stops working for a second. He senses your hesitance, smiling playfully as he leans over you, kissing you gently.

“I shall take it slow. It shall feel good once you get used to the stretch.”

“Do you promise?” You say timidly.

He nods. “It helps that you are already so wet.” You scoff when he swipes his fingers over the wetness coating your thighs. He kisses every inch of exposed skin he can find, helping you loosen up to take his massive cock. “It is going to hurt the first time, but I swear it will get easier.”

“Who said we would be doing this again?” You inquire.

His chuckle vibrates against the shell of your ear. “Trust me. We shall definitely do this again.”

He lines himself up to your entrance, distracting you with a kiss. You never believed kissing could be worthwhile, but you find that you do not mind the act at all when it comes to your husband.

But Christ, is he trying to split you in half?

“Hurts,” you whimper as he gradually pushes in.

He stops immediately. “Do you want me to pull out?”

You shake your head. “No, no. Just… make it feel better.”

“You like it when I touch you here,” he says, returning his thumb to your clit, rubbing the nub in slow circles.

You close your eyes, powering through the overwhelming pain with the small windows of pleasure. Jaehyun does not appear to be experiencing the same issues, gritting his teeth when he bottoms out.

“You are squeezing me too tightly,” he groans. “Ease up a little, wife. I am going to finish before we have truly started.”

“I cannot! You are intent in destroying me!” You retort.

“Fuck,” he curses, dropping his head to rest between your neck and shoulder. “Tell me when I should start moving.”

“Moving?” You pale. “Is this not the entire thing?”

“I thought your mother explained this to you the night before our wedding?”

“She never discussed the specifics!”

His hands cup your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. You blink back the tears threatening to spill and he smiles at you, assuring you that everything is going to be okay.

“Do you trust me? You must trust me a little at this point.”

“A little,” you grumble. “Don’t push your luck.”

He moves to sit on his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders and holding them in place while he thrusts into you. Initially, he’s apologizing for the pain, but you slowly adjust to his size and your wetness begins to emit a thwacking sound against the flesh of his thighs.

Moans spill out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“That is it,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”

You would not think that Jaehyun’s praise would have such an effect upon you. You are whining for him as his cock batters into your pussy, staining the sheets with the mix of your wetness.

“I shall not last,” he says through bated breaths. “You are squeezing me too tightly.”

Moments later, he spills into you, filling you with the warmth of his cum. He withdraws himself to replace his length with his fingers, swirling them inside your cunt until you are falling over the edge of your third climax.

He collapses next to you, his chest rising up and down. You gaze at him shyly.

“So when shall the baby come?”

He smiles at you. “It normally does not take the first time. We have to keep trying until you feel the babe start to grow.”

You narrow your eyes. “You are surely making that up.”

He winks. “Trust me. We shall practice until you acquire a taste for it.”

—

You and Jaehyun apologize profusely to the staff the next day for your behavior, but they simply smile and tell you to work hard in your baby making efforts.

You are both startled when you approach the breakfast table to see his mother sitting there, sipping on her morning cup of tea.

“M-Mother?” Jaehyun stutters. “What are you doing here? I thought you were away handling matters of the estate.”

She smiles knowingly at you, and you slink behind your husband’s back, feeling like a child who has been scolded for eating too many treats.

“I wanted to check in on you. I arrived last night.”

“Last night?” You and Jaehyun both question in shock.

You recall his messy display of fingering you in the foyer for everyone to witness. Did his mother see her son ravaging you? Did she watch you fall apart under his touch?

Her grin seems to convey your answer. She gestures to the chairs beside her.

“Come and sit. I want to hear all about my future grandchild.”

You return to your bedchamber after breakfast feeling mortified. Jaehyun tries to soothe your worries with a gentle hand at your back.

“It is very normal for a husband and wife to be intimate.”

“Not for a lady to expose herself in front of her mother-in-law and the staff!”

He winces. “I am certain that they found the scene to be arousing, if anything.”

You dig your head into the pillows, pouting. “You fail at lifting up my spirits.”

You feel him peppering kisses over your shoulder, his hands wandering where they should not be. You try to swat them away but he whines in your ear.

“She already knows about us anyway. Let me have a little fun.”

You turn on your side to face him, grazing your fingers over his cheek. You hate that Yerim was right — your husband is very handsome.

“When I said I would never fall in love-”

“It is fine. I understand.”

“No, no,” you correct, tracing his jawline. “I was going to say that I think I could. If you give me enough time and if you do not act like an insufferable rake, I could see myself loving you.”

He smirks. “I am quite flattered.”

You roll your eyes. “Can you do that thing with your mouth again?”

“Happy to oblige, wife.”

you’re twenty-nine, and the number feels heavier than you thought it would. not because it’s old—not really—but because thirty is close. and thirty means expectations. by now, you were supposed to have it all figured out. at least, that’s what they say. your friends certainly make it seem that way with their photo-perfect marriages, toddlers learning to walk, houses in peaceful neighborhoods. meanwhile, you still live in a quiet apartment with plants you often forget to water and a fridge that holds more takeout containers than groceries.

you work at an architecture firm—clean lines, big ideas, and even bigger egos. the kind of place where late nights are common and recognition is rare. you’ve built a name for yourself, though. you lead your team well, your ideas consistently get approved, and your work ethic has never been in question. the other women whisper that you’re just trying to impress the boss, that your dedication is nothing but a strategic flirtation. they don't know that your passion isn’t about pleasing anyone but yourself. well, mostly. maybe part of you does want to be seen. to be acknowledged by him.

jeong jaehyun.

your department lead. two years younger than you, but somehow always carrying himself like he’s lived three lives already. he doesn’t talk much. doesn’t engage in the small talk that fills the office kitchen or the empty flattery some of your coworkers throw his way. he’s serious, focused, almost too calm. the kind of man who’s unreadable, and yet somehow always watching. you’re not close, not really, but there’s a quiet understanding between you. he trusts you. you can feel it in the way he gives you space to lead, the way he nods subtly in meetings when you speak, the way his eyes linger sometimes—not in a way that feels invasive, but like he’s... thinking.

you’ve never seen him flirt with anyone. never seen him talk about his personal life. no ring, no photos on his desk, not even vague mentions of a girlfriend or family. and while no one dares to say anything to his face, everyone wonders. he's a man, though—no one criticizes him for being single. no one asks him what he's waiting for.

you, on the other hand, can barely go a week without someone making a comment. still not married? you’re so pretty, what a shame. your mother means well, but every call ends with a variation of you’re not getting any younger, sweetheart.you smile through it. you tell them you're happy. you tell yourself that, too. but deep down, there's a quiet ache. because you’ve always wanted a family. always dreamed of being a mother, of coming home to someone who knows you—not just your schedule or your favorite takeout order, but the way you think, the way you feel things deeply and try to hide it. but love hasn’t knocked in years. not since your last relationship ended at twenty-two, before the world hardened your heart. since then, you’ve been too busy, too careful, too tired.

tonight, you're staying late again. the office is nearly empty, save for a few flickering lights and the buzz of a vending machine down the hall. you're finessing the last pieces of a major project, making sure every detail is just right. you're in the zone when you hear soft footsteps approaching, and then his voice—low, familiar, closer than expected.

“you’re still here, byun?”

you glance up to find jaehyun standing by your desk, hands in his pockets, that usual unreadable expression on his face. there’s no judgment in his voice, just quiet curiosity.

you offer a tired smile, leaning back in your chair. “oh, mr. jeong, i just wanted to polish a few things before the presentation. i figured if i leave anything messy, the senior managers will rip it apart. and then you’ll take the heat for it.”

he raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that almost looks like a smile. “you care that much about how i look to the execs?”

you shrug, turning back to your screen. “you’re my boss. if you look bad, i look bad.”

he lets out a soft exhale, a sound that's dangerously close to a chuckle. then he leans against your desk, his body relaxed but his eyes still sharp as ever. “you’re too committed.”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

he shakes his head. “not bad. just... rare.”

a brief silence settles between you, not awkward, but weighted. it feels like he’s about to say something else, and when he does, it’s not what you expect.

“doesn’t your family mind that you stay this late?” his gaze holds yours. “your husband? kids?”

you blink, the question catching you off guard. your smile falters just slightly, and you look down at your hands before answering.

“no husband. no kids. no one waiting at home.” you try to sound casual, even throw in a little laugh. “i guess i’m just married to the job.”

he doesn’t laugh. doesn’t look away. “i didn’t know.”

you nod, suddenly very aware of the silence around you. “most people assume. but... yeah. i live alone.”

another pause. then, gently, you ask, “what about you, mr. jeong? i mean, you’re always here late too. no one waiting on you?”

he looks away for the first time, his jaw tightening slightly before he answers. “no one yet.”

and there it is again—that silence between you. but this time, it’s different. it hums with something unspoken. curiosity. surprise. maybe even recognition.

you return your gaze to the screen, not really seeing it. he’s still standing there, close enough to feel but not close enough to touch. something in the air shifts, and for the first time in a long time, your chest feels... not heavy, but full.

the next morning, you arrived a few minutes early—just like always. being punctual wasn’t about impressing anyone; it was about control, about proving—at least to yourself—that you had your life together. it made you feel reliable. consistent. in a workplace full of half-assed excuses and people who couldn’t meet a deadline to save their lives, your discipline was something you wore like armor. something no one could take from you.

your outfit was soft, delicate even—rose-pink skirt brushing just above your knees, a crisp white button-up tucked in neatly, the blazer matching your skirt in a subtle pastel tone. your heels clicked softly against the tile floor as you made your way to your desk, and as you passed the reflection on one of the glass panels, you couldn’t help but think: i look good today.

you did. your hair was in place, makeup light but elegant, lips tinted a faint nude-pink. polished. pretty. professional. but beneath all that... you also looked a little alone. not that anyone would say it to your face—but you could see it sometimes, in the glances people gave you. admiration, maybe. pity, sometimes. curiosity always.

you sat down, smoothing your skirt and adjusting your chair, reaching for the little yellow post-it you’d stuck to the side of your monitor the day before. your handwriting was neat, methodical. a short list of pending tasks, each one already being mentally checked off as you booted up your computer. you didn’t waste time—your fingers flew across the keyboard, and within minutes the familiar sounds of productivity filled your small corner of the office: the rhythmic clack of keys, the soft hum and spit of the printer warming up to spit out proposals and reports.

you didn’t hear him come in.

you were too deep in the flow, too focused on aligning the final report with the visual standards the company demanded. your eyes scanned the document line by line, searching for typos, ensuring everything was clean, sharp, presentable. the sound of footsteps behind you didn’t register until you felt it—that subtle, electric awareness that comes when someone is watching.

“good morning, byun. please leave the project report on my desk once it’s ready.”

he didn’t look at you. just passed by, smooth and quick, his voice calm and firm, a cup of steaming coffee in one hand, the familiar scent of roast beans and expensive cologne trailing behind him like a silent presence. his stride didn’t falter, his gaze fixed ahead, like he’d already moved on to the next ten things in his mind. you barely had time to nod, mouth parted to respond, but he was already disappearing behind his office door.

you blinked.

right. the report.

you gathered the last printed pages, slid them into the presentation folder, double-checked the order, smoothed the cover with your palm before rising from your seat. your heels clicked softly against the floor as you made your way down the short corridor, your fingers lightly tapping the edge of the folder, nerves tightening with each step even if there was nothing to be nervous about. it was just work. just jaehyun. just another report.

you knocked once and entered when he answered. he was seated behind his desk, sleeves already rolled up to his elbows, the dark veins of his forearms visible as he typed something on his laptop. he glanced up, briefly, then reached for the report when you held it out.

“thank you,” he said, flipping it open with precision, already scanning the contents. “at two p.m. we have the meeting with upper management. you’ll be joining me at the table. along with choi and hwang.”

you nodded. “understood.”

“good. go over the numbers one more time before then. they’re likely to ask.”

“yes, mr. jeong.”

and that was it. no warm smile. no thank you. just professional, cold efficiency. you turned and left, closing the door gently behind you before returning to your desk, the weight of the upcoming meeting settling on your shoulders like a familiar cloak. you’d been through this before. plenty of times. but it never got easier. not when the room was full of men in suits who barely hid their condescension, who chewed through ideas like tasteless gum until someone—usually jaehyun—said something smart enough to catch their interest.

you spent the next few hours fine-tuning the financial section, making sure your data was clean, graphs properly labeled, estimates realistic but still ambitious. it was a delicate game—making things sound innovative without actually suggesting anything too risky. they didn’t want bold. they wanted impressive illusions of boldness packaged in safe wrapping.

the meeting room was as bland as ever. too much glass, too much beige. you sat at the long table beside jaehyun, your laptop open, presentation ready. the managers arrived first, already complaining about another team’s failed prototype. the director entered last, stone-faced as always, his tie perfect, his opinion impossible to read.

as expected, the meeting dragged. they picked apart the proposal, paragraph by paragraph, expressionless until one of them grimaced like the very concept of originality offended them. you watched them, these men who nodded at each other but rarely smiled, who offered feedback that wasn’t feedback, just empty phrases like “it needs more punch” or “is this trend even scalable?”

then jaehyun spoke.

his voice was calm, slow, measured. and yet he made every single line sound convincing. powerful. like there was no other way forward but the one he was laying out. the room shifted around him. the tension eased. eyes narrowed—not in skepticism now, but interest. he wasn’t just presenting; he was selling a vision, and you felt yourself straightening with pride even if the credit wasn’t yours.

until he said your name.

“y/n,” he said, still facing the director. “if you could present the budget projections.”

you froze for a half second. not out of fear—just... surprise. you hadn’t expected him to call on you so soon.

you stood, smoothed your skirt unconsciously, and took a breath before switching slides. your voice was steady, even if your palms were clammy.

“these are the projections for the next two quarters,” you began, pointing at the chart. “we’ve estimated a moderate increase in cost during the development phase, with a break-even point projected for the beginning of q3. depending on the approved budget, we’re looking at a return on investment of approximately—”

you kept going, explaining the graphs, walking them through the numbers with careful clarity. no embellishments, no guesswork. facts. you swallowed once, clearing your throat before the final slide, then ended with a nod.

when you sat back down, jaehyun glanced at you. just a moment. a flicker of something almost soft in his expression.

like you’d done well. like you couldn’t possibly disappoint him.

the rest of the meeting blurred. the managers began tossing in extra suggestions—small changes, tweaks they hoped would impress the director. the man nodded, offered vague praise, and you remained at your seat, listening to it all with a practiced, patient expression.

when the meeting finally ended, you stood beside jaehyun again. he didn’t say much—he never did—but as he packed his laptop, he looked at you.

“good work today,” he said. “you’re an essential part of the team. if you keep this up, i’ll make sure your name’s considered for the upcoming promotions.”

you stared at him, momentarily stunned. the words hit harder than you expected. you’d worked for five years, given everything to this company, and this—this was the first time someone above you had said something that felt... real.

“thank you,” you said softly, trying not to let your smile get too big. “really.”

he nodded. “you earned it.”

later, when the director extended the dinner invitation, you didn’t hesitate. it wasn’t optional. the team needed to show up, needed to mingle, to pretend everything was a celebration and not an endless cycle of office politics masked with clinking glasses.

the bar was upscale but casual enough to loosen people’s ties. smoke from grilled meats hung faintly in the air, the tang of sweet sauces and roasted garlic filling the space. you sat between your supervisor and jaehyun, trying not to feel too stiff in your work clothes. everyone was drinking, toasting, laughing louder than they had all day.

the supervisor leaned forward, voice slightly slurred. “you know,” he said to the director, “the whole prototype? the mockup? the execution timeline? all her. y/n practically carried the whole thing.”

the director turned to you, surprised. “really? how long have you been here?”

“five years,” you replied, sipping from your glass.

he raised a brow. “how is it possible i haven’t noticed you until now?”

jaehyun, still beside you, said nothing—but you felt the subtle tension in his posture.

“you’ve got a good employee,” the director told him. “it’s your job to shape her. teach her. sounds like she’s already on the right path. with the right guidance... she’ll move up in no time.”

he raised his glass. “to y/n.”

“to y/n,” echoed around the table.

you lifted your glass, cheeks warm—not just from the alcohol but from the unfamiliar sensation of being seen. you smiled, surrounded by coworkers and approval and good food, and for a moment, just one moment, everything felt like it was finally going somewhere.

you were finally going somewhere.

the dinner had blurred into noise.

conversations overlapping, laughter rising and falling like tides. glasses clinked, meat sizzled on the grill, the warm lighting softening everyone's expressions into something hazy and unguarded. you sat at the long table, just a bit to the side, the smoky scent of barbecued meat in your hair and the echo of compliments still lingering in your chest. across from you, your supervisor had long since slipped into a drunken retelling of his glory days. to your left, jaehyun sat quietly, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. his arms were strong, veins defined even in the low light, and on his left wrist, a sleek, expensive watch glinted every time he reached for his glass. he hadn’t touched his soju in a while, though. he just held the rim between his fingers and occasionally let his gaze wander across the room.

when your eyes met, it was casual, almost accidental. but you didn’t look away.

“you’re not drinking,” you said, quietly enough that only he could hear.

he offered the ghost of a smirk, the kind that barely pulled at one corner of his mouth. “someone has to remember what was actually said tonight.”

you laughed, a soft breathy sound, grateful for his clarity amidst the chaos.

a silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. rather, it felt like a small space carved out just for the two of you—unbothered, untouched, a bubble where you didn’t have to keep smiling or pretending. you let out a quiet sigh, swirling your untouched drink in your hand.

“do you ever feel like you're running out of time?” you asked, voice low, not even sure why you were asking him of all people.

jaehyun looked at you, brows drawn slightly, intrigued but still calm. “time for what?”

you hesitated, fingers tightening around your glass. the alcohol was warm in your chest, but not enough to numb this confession.

“for everything,” you admitted. “i mean, professionally… things are going great. i can’t complain. i’ve worked hard, and it’s starting to pay off. but…” you looked down, lips pressing together. “sometimes i feel like i’m trapped inside a giant hourglass, watching the sand fall, grain by grain. i’ll be thirty in a few months. and i know that shouldn't mean anything, but in a world where people expect you to have everything figured out by now—marriage, kids, some picture-perfect life—i feel like i’m falling behind. like my dreams are moving farther and farther away.”

you took a breath, not daring to look at him.

“it’s just… sad,” you continued. “when you achieve something big and there’s no one waiting at home to celebrate it with you. no partner, no family. no one to say, ‘i’m proud of you.’”

jaehyun was quiet for a moment. then his voice came, soft and even.

“i can celebrate with you.”

you looked up, surprised, blinking at him. “thank you, but… that’s not what i meant. it’s not the same.”

he held your gaze. then, calmly, like he was offering a solution to a logistics problem, he said it.

“then marry me.”

your brain stalled.

you didn’t understand at first. maybe you misheard him. maybe he was joking, or drunk—except his voice hadn’t changed. his tone hadn’t wavered. your stomach dropped.

“…what?” you whispered.

“you want a family. you want someone to come home to. marry me.”

the words hung between you like smoke. absurd. unreal. your mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. you glanced around—everyone else was too busy laughing or slurring their next toast to notice what had just happened.

you leaned in slightly, voice tense and hushed. “mr.—jeong—what are you talking about? we don’t even know each other like that.”

“we know enough,” he said without blinking.

“we’ve never even had a real conversation outside of work until now.”

“so let’s have more,” he replied, as steady as always.

you felt like your heart was beating too loudly. “are you… are you seriously suggesting we get married?”

“i’m not suggesting it. i’m telling you i’d do it. if you said yes.”

you stared at him, at the cool detachment on his face, the quiet certainty in his voice, and felt your world tip on its axis.

he shrugged. “how long until you turn thirty?”

“…my birthday’s in november,” you muttered, the words escaping before you could even process them. “it’s april now. that’s seven months.”

jaehyun nodded slowly. “then you have seven months to decide.”

he finished his beer in one slow, final gulp. then he stood up, reaching into his wallet and placing a few bills under his empty glass. you were still frozen when he stepped beside you.

“i’ll take you home,” he said.

you tried to protest, voice stumbling over half-formed refusals. “you don’t have to—i can call a cab, really—”

he looked down at you, expression unreadable.

“that wasn’t a request. it’s your boss giving you a ride.”

and with that, he turned, waiting for you to follow. your legs felt heavy as you stood, your mind racing, still reeling from what had just happened. marry him? seven months? he was serious. he was actually serious.

you had no answers. only questions. and one man who had just offered you everything you’d spent your life pretending you didn’t need.

you didn’t sleep.

not really. you tossed and turned, arms flung across the bed one minute and buried under the covers the next. jaehyun’s words echoed in your skull like an intrusive melody, looping over and over again.

then marry me.

you have seven months to decide.

like some sort of countdown had been triggered.

you must have stared at your ceiling for hours, trying to make sense of what he meant—what it meant for you—and whether he’d been serious. but the worst part wasn’t the proposal. the worst part was how calm he’d been, how effortlessly he’d said it, and how easily he’d walked away afterward like it hadn’t upended your entire sense of self.

your alarm went off at seven, and you hit snooze five times. by the time you dragged yourself out of bed, you felt like your bones had aged a decade overnight. you put on your makeup with the heaviness of someone trying to erase exhaustion from the inside out—concealer, color corrector, foundation. you went over your under-eyes twice, then a third time. you looked like yourself, but blurry. off.

you arrived to work twenty minutes later than usual, which was already enough to earn a few raised brows. no one said anything, but they noticed. you noticed them noticing.

you sat at your desk and stared at your drawers, forgetting which one you kept the monthly reports in. your fingers shook slightly as you shuffled through folders, trying to find the stupid paperwork you'd seen a million times. a stack of them slipped from your grasp and scattered onto the floor like a metaphor. you groaned and crouched down to collect them, muttering under your breath. your brain still felt like it was swimming through molasses.

then—

“good morning.”

his voice. that casual, bored tone he always used in the office. neutral, even, no trace of anything buried beneath it. no sign that he’d ever said something as life-altering as what he’d said last night.

you startled so hard you hit your head on the underside of your desk.

“good—ouch!” you winced, clutching your scalp with one hand and your pride with the other. “good morning, mr. jeong.”

he kept walking. didn’t glance down at you. didn’t smirk. didn’t check if you were okay. he passed your desk like any other morning, like he hadn’t proposed to you over beer and smoke and shared loneliness.

a few coworkers peeked over their partitions, concerned. you gave a shaky thumbs-up and a whispered, “i’m fine,” even though you felt anything but fine.

you weren’t like this. not at work. not ever. your name was synonymous with precision. discipline. control. and here you were, dropping papers and bumping into furniture like your brain had short-circuited.

you finally gathered the reports and brought them to his office.

he was seated at his desk, focused on his screen, the sleeves of his dress shirt still rolled to his elbows. your eyes caught briefly on the line of his forearm, the watch still there, still ticking.

“these are the reports from last month,” you said, setting the folder down.

“thanks,” he replied without looking at you.

you lingered.

“mr. jeong.”

he finally looked up.

his eyes were calm. cool. like nothing was wrong. like he hadn’t detonated a bomb and walked away from the wreckage.

you hesitated, your throat dry. “about what you said last night—”

his expression didn’t change.

“we’re at work,” he said simply. “i’m being professional.”

you blinked, almost offended. “so that’s it? you say something that insane and then just—go back to normal?”

“we’ll talk after work,” he said, returning to his screen. “if you want to.”

you stood there, gripping the folder even though it was already out of your hands, heart thudding with something sour and hot and unnamable. frustration? humiliation? confusion? all of it?

he was treating you like you were the one out of line. like you were being inappropriate for even bringing it up.

you turned around without saying anything else and walked out of his office, pulse hammering in your ears. the rest of the day dragged like wet cement. you couldn’t concentrate. you couldn’t remember what you were supposed to be doing half the time. you reread emails four times before hitting send. and every time someone walked past your desk, you wondered if it was him, if he’d say anything, if he’d look at you, if he even remembered what he said or if the memory of it belonged to you alone now.

you’d never felt so out of control.

you didn’t know what was worse—his silence or the fact that you wanted him to break it.

you tried to focus. god, you really did. you stared at spreadsheets until the numbers blurred into static. you answered emails with words you didn’t remember typing. every time the phone rang, your heart jumped, irrationally convinced it might be him—even though you were in the same building, separated by maybe thirty feet of glass, air, and unspoken tension. it felt like the longest day of your life. your temples throbbed with a slow, building ache, like your thoughts were pressing too hard against the inside of your skull.

you popped two painkillers around lunchtime, washed them down with lukewarm water from your reusable bottle, but they didn’t help. not really. because the pain wasn’t just physical—it was mental. emotional. a kind of pressure that wrapped around your ribs and squeezed.

your mind wouldn’t shut up.

you kept looping the same questions, over and over again, like your brain was stuck on a carousel with no exit.

why would he say that? why now? why you?

he already told you he'd wait. seven months. seven impossibly long, slow-burning months.

so why talk? why meet? it wasn’t for him. it didn’t serve him. he’d been clear. he had time, he had patience. this conversation—it was for you. you were the one desperate to make sense of it. to understand his motives. to justify the insanity of it all.

but how were you supposed to justify something that made no sense?

he’s twenty-seven. handsome. polished. wealthy. he could have anyone—literally anyone. girls younger than you, brighter than you, women who weren’t crawling toward their thirties with a fading list of half-achieved dreams and a fridge full of takeout leftovers. why you?

a mid-level employee in a department no one paid much attention to. someone who had to fight tooth and nail just to be noticed in board meetings. someone who had accomplishments but no one to toast with. someone who fell asleep most nights with their phone face-down and on silent because no one was texting anyway.

why you?

you didn’t have an answer.

you finished your tasks—barely—and the moment the clock hit the end of your shift, you shut your computer down with shaky fingers and grabbed your bag. your steps felt heavy, reluctant, as you made your way through the hall toward the entrance. part of you wanted to bolt, to pretend nothing had ever been said, to go home and crawl into bed and put on a show you wouldn’t really watch. to sleep off the confusion like a bad hangover.

but the doors opened before you could entertain the thought. those clean, automatic glass doors slid apart with a hiss, and there he was.

leaning casually against one of the white pillars just outside, his suit jacket draped neatly over his forearm, his other hand gripping his sleek black briefcase like it weighed nothing. he looked like something out of a commercial—well-dressed, composed, the perfect image of success. but when his eyes met yours, something flickered beneath the surface. maybe restraint. maybe tension. maybe nothing.

he walked toward you calmly, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the smooth tile.

“get in the car,” he said, voice even. “we’re going to talk. like you wanted.”

not a question. not a request.

he turned without waiting for your answer and made his way to a parked luxury sedan—shiny, deep black, windows tinted so dark you could barely see the interior. he opened the passenger door for you, as if the conversation that waited inside was just another part of his routine.

you hesitated, only for a second.

but then you followed.

because no matter how messy your thoughts were, no matter how terrified or confused or unworthy you felt, one truth cut through the noise:

you wanted to know.

you slid into the passenger seat, trying to calm the way your heart was sprinting inside your chest. the door closed beside you with a quiet thunk, sealing you into a space you weren’t sure you were ready for.

he walked around the front of the car and got in behind the wheel, smooth and unhurried.

you stared straight ahead.

ready—or not—to finally ask the questions that wouldn’t leave you alone.

the silence in the car wasn’t uncomfortable. not exactly. but it was dense—like fog inside your chest, heavy and silent and there to stay.

you stared out the window as the city drifted past, familiar buildings made foreign by the storm in your head. beside you, jaehyun drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift. there was music playing—low, jazzy, old—but he didn’t speak. not until you passed a traffic light and he tilted his head, casually.

“did you get enough sleep last night?” he asked, like he was commenting on the weather.

you didn’t look at him. “not really.”

“figured,” he said, turning smoothly into another avenue. “you looked like hell.”

you gave a humorless chuckle, resting your elbow against the door and propping your chin in your hand. “thanks for the compliment, sir.”

“anytime,” he said dryly.

and that was it. that was all the small talk he offered. nothing personal. nothing intimate. just an acknowledgment that he saw you. that he’d noticed.

the drive was short, and before you could make sense of anything, you were already parking in front of a modest little korean restaurant tucked between a laundromat and a bookstore. it smelled like steam, garlic, and simmered bone broth. a place where people went for real food and no-frills comfort.

“this place has the best gomguk in the city,” jaehyun said, grabbing his briefcase from the back. “been coming here since i was a teenager.”

you hesitated at the door. “you like bone soup?”

“love it.”

you wrinkled your nose. “i can’t stand that stuff. never could. not even as a kid.”

he paused mid-step and gave you a look, slightly amused. “well,” he said, “there’s our first disagreement as a couple.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “what?”

“now i know you don’t like gomguk. guess i’ll have to avoid cooking it for you.”

you said nothing.

because he wasn’t joking. not really. not entirely. and that was the part that made your mouth dry.

how could he say things like that so easily? so naturally? as if you hadn’t spent the entire day unraveling at the seams while he strutted through the office like nothing had happened?

he sat across from you at the table, unbothered, scanning the menu like it wasn’t even necessary. he already knew what he wanted. meanwhile, you still didn’t know why you were there.

you picked something else. kimchi jjigae, maybe—safe, familiar, strong enough to mask the taste of your confusion.

once the server took your orders and disappeared behind the curtain, you leaned forward, folding your hands together to stop them from trembling.

“why me?”

his eyes lifted slowly from the empty table to your face. “there’s no reason,” he said. “i just want to give you what you want.”

“do you say that to all women?”

he smirked. “if i did, i’d probably be married to half the city by now.”

you shook your head. “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“don’t treat this like a mission,” you snapped, trying not to raise your voice. “i don’t need your pity. i shared something vulnerable with you, yeah. but that doesn’t mean you have to swoop in and rescue me from a miserable life of solitude by offering a ring. this isn’t some fairytale. i don’t need a man to save me.”

“i never said you did.”

you exhaled slowly. “i want to love and be loved. to build something. something real. not this... whatever this is. a contract. a deal. a deadline to escape loneliness.”

his expression didn’t shift. not a single flicker. but his voice softened.

“then let’s say this. if in seven months, you still haven’t found someone—someone who makes you feel like you can build something... try it with me.”

you stared at him. hard. trying to read every intention in the lines of his face.

“just like that?”

“just like that.”

you couldn’t look away.

and then he said it. the words that settled into the cracks of your resolve like warm rain after a drought.

“we can love. i can love you. you can love me, if you want to. if you want to date, we can date. you don’t have to feel pressured. i just think... you’re worth the risk. and i don’t think you should torture yourself every day that passes just because you haven’t ‘settled down.’ opportunities don’t always come twice. sometimes you have to grab them while they’re here. or regret it forever.”

your lips parted, but nothing came out.

you looked at him then—not as the cold, polished man who walked the halls like a ghost in tailored suits. not as your boss. not as someone who confused and overwhelmed you.

you saw him as a man.

a man who knew what he wanted. who wasn’t afraid to take action. who looked you in the eye and offered you something you weren’t even sure you deserved.

his jawline. his eyes. the little wrinkle between his brows when he got serious. the calm way he listened. the confidence. the clarity.

you saw him differently.

you weren’t ready to give him an answer. not yet.

but something inside you had shifted.

you just didn’t know what to call it.

he didn’t rush you.

he didn’t push.

he just sat there across from you in that tiny booth, his sleeves rolled up and his tie slightly loosened, waiting with the kind of quiet confidence that only made your heart beat louder. he stirred his soup gently, letting it cool, occasionally taking a sip without ever looking away from you for too long.

and then he said it—casually, as if proposing something as simple as lunch next week.

“let’s do this. i’ll pick you up after work from now on. we’ll go out. have dinner. spend time together. see what happens. let it unfold naturally.”

just like that.

your breath caught. “i… i have doubts,” you admitted, almost in a whisper. “i don’t know what to say. i don’t know what to feel. this is all so sudden, so... fast.”

he nodded, unbothered. “that’s okay.”

you blinked. “that’s okay?”

“yes. it’s not a race. but you heard what i said—opportunities don’t always knock twice. you don’t have to say yes right now. just think about it.”

but you were thinking. too much.

his voice played on repeat in your mind: we can love. i can love you. you can love me. and god, wasn’t that the exact thing you’d been terrified of never having?

your fingers trembled under the table. your palms clammy, your mouth dry. you rubbed your hands together slowly, grounding yourself in that simple motion, trying to breathe.

he didn’t flinch. didn’t ask again. just kept sipping his soup, patient as stone, like he’d already accepted whatever answer you’d give him.

you stared at your food, at the steam rising, the way the aroma filled the space between you and him like something sacred. you still couldn’t stand bone soup. but somehow, being across from him made it smell less... offensive. less like something to run from.

and you remembered.

all those nights crying in silence.

all those mornings brushing your teeth with tears stuck in your throat because you didn’t know if ever would come.

ever finding someone.

ever being enough.

ever being loved without begging for it.

maybe he wasn’t what you imagined.

maybe he was better.

you looked up at him.

“okay,” you said, softly. then stronger. “okay. i’ll try. i’ll let you pick me up. we’ll go on these dates. maybe… maybe i can love you. maybe i can let myself be loved by you.”

he paused mid-sip, eyes lifting.

your voice cracked slightly when you added, “maybe i can stay with you.”

for a beat, the world went still.

he didn’t smile wide. didn’t gloat or tease.

he just gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod. his eyes warm, deep, but controlled—like someone who’d been expecting this moment and didn’t want to scare it off.

“good,” he said. “that’s all i needed.”

you swallowed hard.

and for the first time since that strange proposal, something in your chest loosened.

you weren’t sure if this was love.

but it was a beginning.

the next morning. everything is different.

you walk into the building like you own the damn place—heels sharp, suit immaculate, makeup clean and fierce, ponytail slicked high like a crown. the memory of yesterday—your stumble, your throbbing head, your wandering thoughts—now felt like a distant, irrelevant dream. that wasn’t you. this was.

a woman who knew what she wanted.

a woman who said yes.

you smiled to yourself in the elevator. not just any smile—that kind. the kind that curled at the corners, the kind that held secrets, the kind that felt like sin dressed in silk. the kind that belonged to someone with a man waiting outside a restaurant, ordering bone broth, and talking about love like it was something simple. doable. inevitable.

you were early. again. not by accident this time, but by choice.

you slid into your desk, organized, efficient, present. the hum of the office hadn’t started yet, and you took advantage of the calm, catching up on reports and scheduling the week like the good girl you were trained to be. but this time, it was different. you weren’t surviving the day. you were anticipating it.

and then—at exactly the hour—he walked in.

jung jaehyun.

same black suit. same silver watch. same air of cool detachment.

but today, when he passed by your desk and muttered his usual, “good morning,” you didn’t just nod like before.

you stood up—too fast.

too happy.

“good morning, mr. jeong!” you sang, voice lilting and almost musical, like you’d just won the lottery.

it was instinctual. not calculated. just... you.

the entire floor stopped.

heads turned.

some eyebrows shot up. a few eyes narrowed.

jaehyun himself halted in his tracks, looking back at you slowly, his brows drawn together in the tiniest frown. he cleared his throat.

“everyone, back to work,” he said, voice firm. and then, after one last look—eyes narrowed at you in something between confusion and amusement—he turned and walked away.

you bit your lip so hard it almost hurt, barely suppressing the giggle building in your throat.

the memory of last night echoed in your mind, maybe i can love you, maybe i can stay with you—and now here you were, trying not to beam like a teenager with a crush. you watched his back disappear into his office, and your lips curled up, despite yourself.

you could still feel his eyes on you. even if he wasn’t looking.

after work, you waited by the entrance as the glass doors slid open.

he was already there—like he promised. leaning casually against his car, black coat folded over one arm, briefcase in hand, gaze scanning the horizon like the perfect ceo out of a drama. but as soon as his eyes met yours, they softened—barely, subtly—but you noticed.

“get in,” he said, opening the passenger door for you.

you slipped in without protest, heart beating faster than it had any right to.

once the car pulled away from the curb, the silence settled—but it didn’t last long.

“you can’t do that,” he said, not harshly, just... firm.

“do what?” you asked, knowing damn well.

“greet me like that. like that.” he glanced at you sideways. “at work.”

you shrugged. “what? we’re dating now. aren’t we?”

“we’re seeing where this goes,” he corrected. “but we still have to be professional. people talk. your position can be affected. and mine—”

you cut in, not harshly but with a certain fire. “i’m not going to apologize for being happy.”

“i’m not asking you to apologize.”

“then don’t ask me to pretend. i’ll dial it down, sure. but i’m not going to act like you don’t mean something to me when we’re under the same roof eight hours a day.”

he stayed quiet for a beat, tapping the wheel with one hand, lips twitching like he was trying not to smile.

“is this how you are with all your boyfriends?”

you grinned. “i’m worse.”

he laughed. actually laughed. that deep, velvet sound you hadn’t heard much outside of formalities.

“well, i’ll brace myself,” he said. “i might enjoy it.”

you turned to the window, hiding your smile. this was really happening.

the drive back was quiet at first—a comfortable silence that didn’t demand immediate conversation. the kind of quiet that says: you don’t need to perform, just exist here with me.

the radio was on. a soft playlist of english ballads played in the background—songs about longing, beginnings, maybe even second chances. you doubted jaehyun picked them himself. it was probably just the algorithm. still, the timing felt so precise… so intentional, that you wondered if the universe was helping him out tonight.

you played with your fingers over your thighs, crossing and uncrossing your legs slowly, watching the night pass outside the window. city lights in the distance. trees swaying softly in the wind. you tried to guess where he was taking you next, but the truth was… you didn’t really care.

not knowing was part of the charm.

“where are we going?” you finally asked, unable to resist the curiosity.

he smiled without turning to look at you, eyes steady on the road ahead.

“it’s a secret,” he said. “you’ll have to wait and see.”

you squinted at him with mock suspicion, amused—and yet, inside, your heart started to thump a little faster with every mile.

there was something strangely beautiful about not being in control this time. about letting yourself be taken somewhere, not out of submission, but out of trust. you weren’t used to that. you weren’t used to letting anyone drive. but tonight, you wanted to believe you could lean back and just... be.

and then… the car turned down a dark, barely lit road, and you saw it.

a wide, open lot. a giant projector screen glowing at the far end. dozens of cars parked in neat rows, some with trunks open, fairy lights, blankets, snacks. couples curled together under the stars.

it was a drive-in movie. like something out of an old romance film.

you gasped, both hands flying to your mouth as you turned to him.

“oh my god. no way. are you serious?! i love the movies—but i've never done this. i’ve always wanted to, but… i don’t know. it just never happened.”

jaehyun glanced at you sideways. and this time, he smiled. really smiled. not the polite, composed smile he wore in the hallways or meetings—but something warm. something real.

“then it was a good idea,” he said simply.

he parked in the middle row. good view of the screen, but far enough for privacy. you were already melting—and then he popped the trunk.

a thick blanket. two small pillows. a tote bag with snacks—popcorn, a big soda bottle, even the exact chocolate bars you’d once said you liked during a random, probably drunk, late-night conversation. you didn’t even remember mentioning it.

he did.

“did you plan all of this?” you asked, curled slightly sideways in the passenger seat while he arranged everything with care between you.

“i just wanted you to be comfortable,” he said. “i wanted it to be... special.”

no posturing. no hidden motive. just sincerity. you felt it in the way he unfolded the blanket and draped it gently over your lap. in how he checked the window—cracked just enough to let in the breeze, not enough to let in the cold. In how he handed you the soda first, before even opening his own drink.

the movie started. some lighthearted rom-com with ridiculous dialogue and cheesy plot points, but it didn’t matter. it was perfect. low-stakes. no pressure. you curled your legs under you, blanket snug, the flickering light from the screen dancing across your skin.

every once in a while, you’d glance at jaehyun. and more than once, you caught him watching you instead of the film.

“are you bored?” you whispered.

“not even close.”

“you haven’t laughed once.”

he turned to you, that sarcastic little smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth, eyes narrowed just slightly.

“you’re already making enough noise for the both of us.”

you gave him a playful slap on the arm, pretending to be offended.

“that was a compliment,” he added, amused.

you rolled your eyes—but smiled. god, you smiled so much that night.

as the credits rolled, something shifted in the silence. the mood thickened—not heavy, just… deeper. weighted with something. a moment hanging on the edge of change. your head leaned against the window as the screen dimmed, your eyes distant but your heart so very full.

he still didn’t touch you.

he didn’t grab your hand. didn’t lean in.

but his presence wrapped around you all the same—solid, patient, waiting. not pushing, just there. learning how to be near you without demanding anything in return.

“thank you,” you said softly, voice almost too quiet to hear. “for this. for everything.”

“you don’t have to thank me.”

“yes, i do. it’s not every day someone goes out of their way like this.”

he paused before answering. his tone was steady, but low.

“i want this to work,” he said. “and if that means planning teenage-level dates with blankets and popcorn, then… yeah. i’ll do that.”

you laughed, eyes dropping to your lap.

“you’re doing well so far.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

and then you looked at each other. just looked. no words needed.

but inside… you felt it.

your shoulders, usually tense, were light. your heart, bruised and cautious for so long, was opening again. quietly, but surely. as if whispering, i’m still here. i still want to believe.

you weren’t sure where this would go. if it would last. if it would end in tears or something worse.

but right now, in his car, under the stars, with the last notes of the film still echoing through your skin…

you wanted to find out.

you wanted to try.

the next morning at the office felt different—less chaotic, more grounded. you greeted the receptionist with a small smile, your heels clicking softly against the marble floor as you made your way in, clutching your coffee cup like a security blanket. you weren't glowing, exactly, but something about you was… softer. less guarded. like a petal finally relaxing in the warmth of spring after a too-long winter.

jaehyun noticed immediately.

you caught him watching you from the glass-walled conference room as you entered the bullpen. he didn't stare, not in a way that would make it obvious to others—but his eyes followed you, just long enough to clock the change. your navy blue pencil skirt hugged your hips, the slit in the back offering just the right amount of grace as you walked. the cream blouse you wore was modest but elegant, the top button left undone, showing the delicate line of your collarbone. your hair was half-up, your makeup minimal, professional—but the gloss on your lips and the quiet shimmer on your eyelids betrayed a whisper of mischief. not overt. just enough for someone paying attention.

you met his gaze briefly through the glass and raised your brows in a silent hello before looking away, sipping your coffee with forced nonchalance.

by the time you crossed paths an hour later—both of you heading into a smaller briefing room—he gave you that look again. the one that asked, really? amused, but faintly disbelieving.

"good morning, mr. jeong," you greeted him politely, eyes straight ahead as if you hadn't spent the last night wrapped in his blanket, watching a movie with your legs tangled under it.

"miss y/l/n," he replied, his lips curving into a knowing smile as he held the door open for you. “very formal today.”

you didn’t rise to the bait. just gave him a brief, professional smile and walked past, heels clicking, not looking back. you were committed to the bit.

the meeting was brief, technical—a review of deliverables, some feedback loops, nothing out of the ordinary. you contributed where you needed to, kept your tone measured, avoided lingering glances. even when he made a rare joke and the room chuckled, you only allowed yourself a small, polite laugh, hands folded neatly on the table.

he didn’t push. but when you passed each other near the coffee station later, his voice dropped low, just enough for you to hear.

“you’re really leaning into the whole executive assistant with boundaries thing, huh?”

you smirked as you refilled your mug, still not looking at him. “just trying to keep things professional, mr. jeong.”

“of course.” he nodded once, pretending to adjust his tie. “wouldn’t want to cross any lines.”

you bit your lip to suppress your grin. the game was on.

at 3:47 PM, your phone lit up with a text from his office number: meeting with the department heads in fifteen. boardroom. don’t be late. signed J.J.

you rolled your eyes but your stomach did a little flip.

the 4 PM meeting dragged—there was a lot of back and forth over campaign numbers and rollout schedules, but you held your own, taking notes, speaking clearly when your insight was needed. you could feel jaehyun watching you when others weren’t—his gaze warm, grounding—but he didn’t speak to you directly unless it was related to the discussion. you appreciated that. It let you stay in control, let you breathe.

after everyone had trickled out and the room was quiet, you stayed behind a moment, closing your laptop and straightening the chairs without a word. he didn’t move from his seat at the head of the table, just watched you as you moved, his fingers idly spinning a pen.

“dinner?” he asked eventually, breaking the silence.

you didn’t look up right away. “are you asking as mr. jeong or...?”

he tilted his head, eyes playful. “just jaehyun.”

you looked up, meeting his eyes. something flickered between you—recognition. of the past few days, the softness in your chest, the way your shoulders had finally stopped bracing for disappointment.

“okay,” you said quietly. “dinner.”

he didn’t take you to a fancy restaurant or anywhere showy. just a quiet little rooftop place downtown, dim lights and mellow music, open air and the sound of the city below. you sat across from him at a small table, knees brushing under the surface. you shared dishes, laughed softly, talked about nothing and everything. he asked about your childhood; you asked about his first heartbreak. there was no rush to get anywhere. just being there—together—was enough.

at some point, after dessert and a second glass of wine, the conversation quieted. the city stretched around you, glittering and alive. jaehyun leaned back in his chair, watching you.

at some point, after dessert and a second glass of wine, the conversation quieted. the city stretched around you, glittering and alive. jaehyun leaned back in his chair, watching you with that open expression he reserved for moments like this—unguarded, gently curious.

“you said you grew up outside the city,” he said, casually swirling the remnants of his drink. “what about your parents?”

you set your fork down and rested your elbows lightly on the table, exhaling. “they still live in the same town. a couple hours from here.”

he nodded. “siblings?”

“one,” you replied. “older brother. married. two little boys.”

jaehyun smiled at that. “you’re the cool aunt.”

you laughed softly, the sound bittersweet. “i try. i send them stickers and weird snacks from the city. but i think i’m mostly the mysterious aunt who lives alone in seoul and doesn’t have a husband, which is a major point of concern for my parents.”

jaehyun raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “concern?”

“oh, huge.” you leaned back, crossing your arms with a mock-serious nod. “they think i’m one heartbreak away from crawling back into my childhood bedroom with a suitcase and giving up entirely. i get the same call every weekend—‘have you met someone yet?’ and ‘when are you coming home, sweetheart?’ like my single status is a national emergency.”

you smiled, tried to make it sound light. funny. but the knot in your chest tugged a little tighter with each word. because underneath the teasing tone, it hurt. the weight of expectation, of having let them down without really meaning to. you’d always thought, by now, you’d have that picture-perfect family. a husband. maybe a child. but life had taken its own sharp turns, and somewhere along the way, you'd lost the map.

before your thoughts could spiral too far inward, you turned your eyes toward him and asked, “what about you? any siblings?”

he shook his head. “only child.”

“wow. that explains the drama,” you teased.

he grinned, playing along. “what drama?”

you shrugged, playful. “the perfectly tousled hair. the quiet confidence. the whole mysterious boss with a tragic past vibe.”

jaehyun laughed, the sound low and warm. “nothing tragic, thankfully. my parents own a condo complex back in busan. they keep to themselves. ever since i moved out, they’ve stayed out of my decisions. no guilt trips. no blind dates.”

he smirked a little, taking another sip. “which is great for me.”

you smiled at that, but there was something about the way he said it—casual, yes, but laced with a kind of loneliness you recognized. the kind that came with being left alone a little too much. with being successful but still carrying a shadow no one quite asked about.

you watched him for a second longer than necessary. then nodded slowly. “that does sound kind of great.”

he looked at you then, really looked, and the silence between you shifted—deeper now. heavy with things not said.

the city hummed around you. glasses clinked from other tables. somewhere, a violinist was playing faintly near the street below. but you only heard the soft cadence of his breath, the way it matched your own.

and then he stood and offered you his hand.

you didn’t hesitate this time. you let him lead you to the edge of the rooftop, where the view was clearer, the air colder. your arms brushed as you looked out together, shoulder to shoulder, warm skin against cool wind.

he turned to you first, eyes darker now, thoughtful. “you don’t need to rush anything. marriage, or whatever they want from you. you’re… okay. just as you are.”

you looked at him slowly, your heart caught somewhere between gratitude and ache. “thanks,” you whispered. “sometimes i forget.”

he stepped closer—barely—but it was enough to make your breath hitch.

you met his gaze, and something shifted between you again. tighter. stronger. the kind of tension that doesn’t demand to be broken, only… felt.

he leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. you didn’t.

your lips met his softly, a single, tentative kiss that carried the full weight of everything left unspoken. sweet, searching, the kind of kiss that says i see you. that says stay.

and when you pulled back, your eyes didn’t dart away.

they lingered.

because something had begun. and neither of you was pretending anymore.

there was no big speech. no sudden declarations.

just the quiet gravity of this moment. the closeness. the way his eyes searched yours with a gentleness that made your breath catch.

april melted into may in soft, golden increments—like a candle burning slow at both ends. the weather grew gentler, the evenings warmer, and with each passing day, your relationship with jaehyun unraveled in small, tender pieces that neither of you rushed to name.

you had more dinners together. nothing extravagant—he wasn’t the kind to impress with grand gestures—but always thoughtful. ramen tucked away in a quiet corner shop with mismatched stools. a spontaneous detour after a work meeting that led to an art gallery’s closing hour. coffee at a tiny cafe with mismatched mugs and jazz playing softly from a dusty speaker. with every outing, something softened between you. the way you spoke to each other, the way you lingered a second longer when saying goodbye, the way your eyes found his in a crowded room and stayed there.

still, at work, everything remained perfectly composed. restrained. you never touched, never called him anything but mr. jeong. no one suspected a thing—and that secrecy gave it all the thrill of something sacred. childish almost. like passing notes under a desk. a shared joke disguised in a spreadsheet. your fingers grazing when you exchanged documents. a glance too long in the breakroom when he poured your coffee before you even asked. you could feel it in the air, that charged silence of two people pretending to be just colleagues, and failing quietly, deliciously.

the project itself was moving well—smooth timelines, promising data. it gave you an excuse to spend more time in his office, laptop open across from his, sometimes both of you too focused to speak for long stretches. sometimes one of you talking while the other typed, nodding with half-listening affection. sometimes, on the slow days, the lines between work and personal conversation blurred gently, like ink on damp paper.

today was one of those days.

you sat across from him, legs crossed under the conference table, scrolling through performance reports while he adjusted a chart on his screen. outside the windows, the afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting pale lines across the carpet and the sleeves of his shirt. he leaned back, stretching slightly, then caught your gaze with a small smile.

“so…” he said, voice lower than usual, “what are you doing this weekend?”

you glanced up, biting your lip to hide a smile. “why? do you need me to run more numbers?”

“maybe,” he said, teasing. “but i was thinking something less tragic. maybe the museum? or that poetry cafe you mentioned.”

you shrugged, trying to sound casual. “depends. are you asking as mr. jeong or as… jaehyun?”

he smirked, eyes playful. “i guess that depends on your answer.”

you were about to respond when the door opened without a knock. both of you sat up straighter instinctively, like students caught passing notes. the supervisor from the analytics division stepped in, scanning the room with barely concealed curiosity.

“mr. jeong,” he said, tone clipped, “the director wants to see you.”

jaehyun stood immediately, buttoning his jacket with an easy nod. “i’ll be there in a moment.”

the supervisor looked at you then. his eyes lingered—not long, but long enough. something unreadable passed over his face. “you’ve been spending a lot of time here,” he said, like it wasn’t a question.

you gave him your most neutral smile. “just supporting the project. we’re on a tight schedule.”

“mm.” he said nothing more, just nodded once and stepped out.

jaehyun glanced at you before leaving, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, maybe. or quiet warning. you went back to your laptop, fingers pretending to type while your heart tried to calm its sudden gallop.

the evening found you both in his car again. the sun had already begun its descent, turning the sky a soft shade of apricot. you slid into the passenger seat, closed the door behind you, and without thinking too much, leaned over to kiss his cheek.

his skin was warm under your lips.

he blinked, clearly caught off guard, and for a second, he forgot to hide it. the tips of his ears flushed red. he cleared his throat and reached for the ignition, like nothing happened, but his smile lingered, crooked and faint.

“you keep doing that,” he murmured, not looking at you.

“doing what?” you asked innocently.

he shook his head, eyes on the road. “making it hard to pretend we’re not dating.”

you grinned and didn’t answer.

he drove you to the han river, where the breeze was cool and kind, and the crowds were light enough to feel private. you sat cross-legged on the grass, sharing tteokbokki and fried dumplings from paper trays, watching cyclists blur past under the lamplights. a small speaker nearby played an old ballad, sweet and melancholic, and you leaned into his shoulder without needing permission.

“i like this,” you said softly.

“what part?” he asked.

“this part. where everything’s… quiet.”

he didn’t speak immediately. just reached over and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“me too.”

you looked at him, really looked—and it hit you in that moment how far you’d come. from formal greetings and polite distance to soft laughter and shared silence. from stolen glances to kisses on the cheek that left him blushing.

and somehow, without realizing it, you’d stopped keeping count of how many times you thought about him during the day. because now he was part of your days.

and you didn’t want to imagine them without him anymore.

june arrived with a subtle shift in rhythm—projects moved faster, deadlines drew closer, and the sun stayed longer in the sky. the office felt heavier in the afternoons, warm with late spring air and the quiet hum of new beginnings.

one of those beginnings came in the form of kim jungwoo.

he was transferred from the incheon branch—a bright-eyed analyst with quick wit and a laugh that filled corners. you were told he'd be supporting the data team, and since your department handled most of the projections, he was placed right in front of your desk, where your eyes met every time you looked up. your first impression of him was that he was disarmingly charming—too friendly, too easygoing for the stiff, quiet culture of the office—but undeniably efficient. he asked questions that made sense, learned fast, and had a way of easing tension with a joke delivered just under his breath.

you kept things professional, as always. showed him how you sorted the quarterly metrics, how to navigate the company’s outdated database system without crashing it, how to color-code your sheets for easier reading. he listened, smiled, nodded. and eventually, he joked. made you laugh when you’d been staring at the same budget chart for hours. brought you coffee with your name scribbled on the lid in dramatic calligraphy. sometimes too much, sometimes exactly what you needed.

you liked him. platonically. comfortably. it was easy to like jungwoo.

but jaehyun noticed. of course he did.

at first, it was subtle. he’d call you into his office more frequently, asking for reports he usually didn’t request until later in the week. you didn’t think much of it—until you realized he was keeping you in there for hours. even when the topic had already run dry, even when both of you were silently pretending to still be discussing something relevant. you’d glance at your watch, mumble about needing to check on jungwoo’s progress, and jaehyun would give you this look—tight-lipped, unreadable, almost irritated.

the third time it happened, you couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“are you seriously going to keep me hostage in your office every time jungwoo asks me a question?” you asked, laptop balanced on your knees, arms crossed.

jaehyun didn’t answer right away. he leaned back in his chair, one hand draped lazily over the armrest, watching you. but there was tension under his cool expression, the kind that coiled in his jaw.

“you’re my girlfriend” he said, voice low, measured. “even if we have to act like colleagues in this building, you’re not just anyone to me.”

your breath caught. not because of what he said—because of the way he said it. with that sharp, quiet certainty, like it wasn’t up for debate.

“you’re jealous,” you muttered, trying to smile, to turn it into something lighter.

“of course i’m jealous,” he said, leaning forward. “he’s new, he’s charming, and he’s looking at you like he already knows what you taste like.”

your face flushed.

you looked away, but only for a second.

because when you met his eyes again, he stood.

in two strides he was in front of you, taking the laptop gently from your knees and setting it on the coffee table without a word. then he cupped your face with both hands and kissed you—deep, slow, and hungry. there was nothing tentative about it. it wasn’t sweet or shy. it was possession, poured soft and molten through the shape of his mouth on yours. you sighed into it, hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulse thudding in your throat.

he pulled away just enough to speak, voice rough. “don’t tease me about this.”

you nodded, breathless. “okay.”

and then he kissed you again.

the kiss tasted like all the things you weren’t allowed to say out loud. frustration. longing. the ache of pretending, day after day, that you were only what the world let you be. his thumb stroked your jaw as his mouth opened against yours, deeper now, slower. you felt your knees weaken and your thoughts scatter, all logic melting into the heat of the moment.

that night, like every night since the start of your secret, you met him outside the office. his car waited at the edge of the lot, tinted windows and the soft thump of quiet music playing through the speakers. you slid into the passenger seat, your heart already dancing.

this time, he didn’t say hello.

he reached over and kissed you—harder than before, lips parting yours in a way that made your body sing. the car wasn’t moving. neither of you were thinking. you kissed like it was all you knew how to do. mouths hungry, breath shallow, his hand tracing the edge of your thigh just enough to make you gasp. every time you pulled away for air, he followed. every time he groaned into your kiss, you shivered.

he never rushed.

never crossed that line you hadn’t yet spoken about.

but you felt how close it hovered. just under the skin.

and as your lips brushed his one last time before pulling back, your forehead resting against his, you whispered, “i like it when you get jealous.”

his smile was crooked. dangerous.

“you better not like it too much,” he said, his thumb stroking the corner of your mouth, “because next time… i might not let you leave so easily.”

thursday crept in quietly, with no big plans or messages of anticipation. the city, usually loud and hungry for excitement, felt unusually tame that week—like it had spent itself on too many events, too many evenings out, too many people chasing novelty in crowded cafés and rooftop bars. maybe it was just you, though. maybe everything had started to feel dull because your world had shifted to revolve around something—someone—entirely new. and nothing outside of that circle could compare anymore.

you barely spent time in your apartment lately. always out. always in his car, in places that weren’t quite home but felt more real because he was there. so on that afternoon, with your head tilted against the cold surface of your desk and your brain spinning from spreadsheets, you blurted it out between quiet keyboard taps.

“don’t make any plans tomorrow night.”

jaehyun glanced at you from across his office, pen in hand, eyebrows drawn. “should i be worried?”

you smiled without looking up. “you’re staying over. the weekend. at my place.”

the pause was heavy. not uncomfortable, but... loaded. you didn’t dare lift your head until he spoke.

“wait—what?”

and there it was. you looked at him finally, biting your bottom lip to keep from smiling too wide. he looked stunned. genuinely caught off guard.

“you heard me. pack a bag. pajamas. toothbrush. snacks. i don’t know. whatever you need to survive two days with me.”

his face went red. a deep, rich pink that spread across his cheeks to the tips of his ears. you laughed. he was thinking things.

“ya, what were you imagining?” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him with a smirk.

“nothing!” he defended too fast. “i just... i didn’t expect we’d be spending the weekend... alone like that. it’s not a bad thing. i like it. i like the idea. i just—i mean, we’ve been doing great. this relationship. it feels good. real. and... if it keeps going like this, who knows—maybe one day we’ll get married.”

you froze.

he didn’t say it as a joke. it was quiet. casual. but he meant it.

married.

you hadn’t thought about that in weeks. you’d been so swept up in the rush of the new—new glances, new kisses, new secret dates and stolen evenings. but that word made your heart skip, stumble, leap. it opened a future you hadn’t dared imagine.

married to jeong jaehyun. walking down an aisle. your coworkers gasping. your parents trying to stay calm. him lifting your veil. kissing you like it was the beginning of forever. sunday mornings with kids and cartoons and coffee. vacations. shared bookshelves. him waiting at the door when you got home.

you shook the image out of your head.

“you can’t just say things like that,” you whispered, barely breathing.

“why not?” he asked softly, his eyes sincere. “it’s where we’re going, right?”

friday night came like a slow exhale.

he arrived with a small black duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a sheepish grin. you wore mismatched pajamas—striped pants and a faded hoodie from a school club you barely remembered joining. the sight of you like that made him laugh, and the sound was so unguarded it made your chest ache with affection.

you stayed in. ordered too much food. picked a cheesy rom-com that made you cry halfway through. he kept making sarcastic comments at first, trying to pretend he didn’t care, until somewhere in the middle he got quiet. his hand found yours under the blanket, warm and steady. when the credits rolled, your head was on his shoulder and your eyes were puffy.

“i hate that you made me cry,” you sniffled, wiping your face.

“i didn’t make you cry. blame julia roberts,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

the rest of the night blurred. an improvised dinner of instant noodles and wine, soft music from your phone speaker, him dancing stupidly in the kitchen with a wooden spoon, trying to make you laugh. and you did. hard. the kind of laugh that made you forget to be careful.

when it got late, and the lights dimmed, the kisses came back. slow. long. searching. his hands on your waist, your fingers in his hair, breathing each other in like you were afraid to stop. the heat built, like always, but neither of you pushed further. it wasn’t time. not yet. but god, it was close.

saturday was lazy and warm and beautiful.

you woke up tangled in the blankets, his arm draped over your stomach, his breath soft against your neck. the kind of morning you never thought you’d get to have—where nothing was urgent, and everything felt right.

you took turns in the shower, argued over who finished the milk, and spent an hour sitting on the floor flipping through old photo albums you’d forgotten you had. you didn’t plan to show him—but he insisted. and once he started looking, he didn’t stop.

“wait... this is you in high school?” he asked, pointing at a photo.

“yeah,” you said, embarrassed. “why?”

“you were so cute.”

you rolled your eyes. “i wasn’t popular or anything. i had one boyfriend. lasted a week.”

he stared. “a week?”

“he said i was too uptight and boring.”

jaehyun’s mouth dropped open. “that guy was an idiot.”

you laughed. “no, he was probably right. i’ve always been... structured. controlled. even back then. guess that’s why i’m like this now—such a workaholic.”

he didn’t laugh. instead, he kept looking at your photo—finger brushing over the glossy paper like it meant something.

“if i had met you back then,” he said quietly, “i would’ve fallen in love with you. no doubt.”

your breath caught.

he didn’t look away. “i wouldn’t have let you go. not for a second.”

“you don’t mean that,” you whispered, unsure what else to say.

“i do,” he said, firm. “you’re not boring. you’re brilliant. you’re thoughtful. you see things no one else sees. you work harder than anyone i know. and... you make me want to be better.”

tears pricked your eyes again. not from sadness. just—too much emotion. too much truth.

“you’re going to make me cry again,” you whispered.

“then cry,” he said, pulling you close. “but only if you let me hold you through it.”

the rest of the weekend passed like a dream.

grocery runs in sweatpants. a half-burnt attempt at making pancakes. arguments over which playlist was better for cleaning the kitchen. you wore ridiculous socks with cartoons on them. he made fun of you until you found his even worse ones.

you kissed between chores. kissed while brushing your teeth. kissed while folding laundry.

it wasn’t glamorous.

but it felt like home.

and when sunday night came, and he packed his bag again, you didn’t want him to go. not because of the sex, or the thrill, or the high of newness. but because somewhere between instant noodles and high school photos, you realized something terrifying and beautiful—

you were falling in love.

for real.

for the first time.

towards the end of the month, your phone rings. you’re in your apartment, folding laundry with the window cracked open to let in the soft breeze of early summer. the sunlight filters through sheer curtains, painting everything in golden hues. you glance at the caller id and feel a knot tighten in your stomach. mom.

you answer.

“it’s your father’s birthday this weekend,” she says, skipping greetings as always, her voice a mix of cheerful anticipation and subtle reprimand. “you should come visit. he’s been asking if we’ll see you.”

you agree, almost without thinking, but then comes the dreaded question.

“and? have you found a boyfriend yet or do i need to talk to mrs. lee again?”

you rub your temple. “mom—”

“her son is still single, you know. owns a good piece of land. sells vegetables to that big food corporation. you’d be set for life.”

you exhale deeply, eyes closing in frustration.

“i’m… i’m seeing someone.”

a pause. then her voice lights up like fireworks. “you are? oh, this is wonderful! finally, you’re not wasting away alone up there in that office job.”

“mom, we’ve just started seeing each other,” you say, hesitating. “it’s too soon to—”

“no,” she cuts in firmly. “you don’t have time to be unsure. the train is about to leave the station, sweetheart. you either get on or it’s gone. bring him. we want to meet him.”

before you can argue, the call ends with a clipped goodbye, and you’re left staring at your phone, pulse racing and chest tight.

the rest of the week, you feel like a ghost of yourself. distracted at work, distant on your dates with jaehyun, your mind spinning in loops. he notices immediately—of course he does—and it only takes one missed joke and a quiet dinner for him to call you out on it.

you’re sitting across from him, poking at your food. the restaurant is softly lit, cozy, but there’s a distance in your eyes.

“y/n,” he says, setting his chopsticks down. “what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you mutter, but he leans in.

“don’t give me that. we’re together now, remember? you can talk to me. or… if you’re second guessing this… if i’m moving too fast, just tell me. i can handle it.”

your heart aches at his words. you reach across the table, grabbing his hand.

“it’s not that. i’m not doubting us,” you say quietly. “it’s just… my mom called. she wants me to visit this weekend for my dad’s birthday. and she… kind of expects me to bring you.”

he blinks. then, without hesitation, he says, “okay. then i’ll come.”

you blink right back. “wait, seriously?”

“yes. if it means that much to them—and to you—I want to go. i want to meet your family, y/n. it feels right.”

your chest swells with something warm and terrifying. you nod, silently.

friday comes and your suitcase is zipped and ready by the door. you’re wearing a floral summer dress, light and breezy, with your favorite pair of nude heels that make your legs look longer than they are. your hair is pinned loosely, lip tint soft and rosy. there’s a nervous flutter in your chest when you step outside.

jaehyun is already waiting beside his car, leaning casually against it like he belongs in a photoshoot. he’s in cream linen pants and a sage green button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, collar open at the throat. his sunglasses reflect the afternoon sun, and he looks, frankly, too good to be standing in your quiet little street. you gulp.

“need help with those?” he says with a grin, reaching for your bags before you can answer.

the ride is filled with music, laughter, and long, thoughtful silences. the kind that don't feel awkward, but full. pregnant with meaning. he holds your hand on the highway, thumb stroking the back of it lazily, his warmth anchoring you through your nerves.

when you pull up to your parents' house—a modest home with stone finishings and a neat little front garden—your heart thunders. everything feels smaller, more fragile, like stepping back in time. your mom rushes out first, apron still tied around her waist, eyes wide and wet with excitement.

and when she sees jaehyun? she nearly cries. “you’re real,” she says, pressing her hands together like she’s witnessing a miracle. your dad comes out next, chuckling as he wipes his hands on a dish towel.

“so this is the young man,” he says with a knowing nod, clapping jaehyun on the back. “your mother hasn’t shut up about you since she found out.”

inside, the dining table is set with your dad’s favorite dishes. everything smells like memory. you sit in the living room afterward, your parents across from you, jaehyun beside you on the couch, close enough to feel his knee brushing yours.

he speaks up first, voice calm and clear.

“i just want to say that i’m very serious about your daughter,” he says. “i have genuine intentions. we’re still getting to know each other, but… if things keep going the way they are, i’d like to build a future with her.”

your mother gasps, reaching for a tissue. your father nods slowly, visibly moved.

“this… this is the best birthday gift i could ask for,” he says.

you shrink into the couch, cheeks burning, while jaehyun’s hand finds yours again and squeezes gently.

then comes the chaos.

your older brother, baekhyun, bursts through the door with his wife and two kids in tow. he takes one look at you and smirks.

“who’s the guy and what have you done with my perpetually single little sister?”

you groan. “shut up, baek.”

the two of you bicker like teenagers, tossing playful insults back and forth while your nephews cling to your legs, shouting your name with delight. you hand them the toys you brought and their eyes light up like it’s christmas.

jaehyun watches it all, amused, until one of the boys climbs into his lap and hands him a toy too.

he freezes.

and in that moment, something shifts in him. the sound of children’s laughter, the image of you with a soft smile, cradling one of your nephews in your arms. the warmth of this home, the love in every corner. he imagines it—having this with you. kids with your eyes. a house that’s yours. your framed wedding photo on the wall. vacations. birthdays. late-night talks in bed. wrinkles and silver hair, but still loving you with the same fire.

he blushes.

and you notice.

“what?” you whisper as you lean close.

he shakes his head, smiling to himself. “nothing. just… i really, really like this. all of it.”

the night unfolds gently. dinner turns into stories, stories into laughter, and soon the sun has long set and the house is lit with warm yellow lights. you and jaehyun sit outside for a moment, watching the stars.

he wraps an arm around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“you feel like home,” you whisper, not even realizing the words have slipped out.

he turns to look at you, eyes soft. “so do you.”

and in the quiet, with the cicadas singing and the echo of your family’s voices drifting from inside, you know.

this might just be the beginning of everything.

the month of july passed by with little to no complications. your parents were pleased with jaehyun, and you could tell that their approval meant the world to him. jungwoo, on the other hand, was playful and teasing, but with a newfound sense of respect, especially as jaehyun started to show more signs of being protective, making sure that jungwoo didn’t cross any boundaries. you were still professional with everyone at work, but the chemistry between you and jaehyun was undeniable. nights together were spent laughing, and weekends were filled with stolen moments of joy, where you both shared something more than just professional courtesy.

jaehyun had made a habit of calling you during the day, just to check on you, and you found yourself doing the same. the conversations were simple, but they felt important. visits to his office became more frequent, sometimes just for work, but other times, it was an excuse to sneak in a kiss or two. the passion between you two continued to build, a slow, steady fire that became increasingly hard to ignore.

one night, a wednesday, you both ignored the weather forecast and decided to take your date out in the city. the air was warm, and the lights of the city sparkled as you walked the streets together. the mood was light, but as midnight approached, the weather took a sharp turn. dark clouds rolled in, and soon, rain began to pour, turning into a violent storm. the wind howled, and the streets quickly flooded. jaehyun’s car struggled against the force of the water, and you couldn’t help but grip the seat, anxious.

jaehyun tried to keep calm, glancing at you with a reassuring smile. “it’s okay, nothing’s going to happen,” he said, though you could tell he was also feeling the weight of the storm.

the rain pounded against the windows, and the car barely moved as the currents began to grow stronger. after what felt like an eternity, you both agreed that waiting in the car wasn’t safe anymore. as you both discussed where to go, a motel appeared in front of you. it seemed like an odd choice, but the parking lot was dry, and there were few other options at that hour. both of you hesitated, unsure of what to do. it was a strange situation—neither of you wanted to suggest anything that could be misinterpreted.

jaehyun was the one to break the silence. “let’s just use the parking lot, at least we’ll have shelter from the rain,” he said. “and if it lasts all night, we’ll have a warm place to stay.”

you nodded, a little nervous. “yeah, i mean, we’re not going to do anything else, right? just sleep, then in the morning, we’ll head back to our places and go to work, right?”

jaehyun smiled at you, trying to ease your nerves. “of course, just a safe place to wait out the storm. no pressure.”

you both parked and got out of the car, a little stiff from the tension, but the moment you entered the motel, things started to feel different. jaehyun took the lead, making sure you were comfortable and settled in, giving you space to breathe. He didn’t rush you, always checking to see how you felt.

both of you were tired from the day, and the weather didn’t help the situation, so after some brief, awkward glances, you both decided to take separate showers to unwind. you both changed into something more comfortable, but since it was summer and it was warm, you decided to just sleep in your underwear. when you looked at jaehyun in his, the moment felt almost surreal. his gaze lingered for a moment before he quickly turned away, as if both of you were still trying to adjust to how close you had become.

“you know,” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence, “you don’t have to feel awkward. we’re taking things at our own pace.”

you smiled, feeling your heartbeat quicken at the sound of his voice. “what if i want to go faster?” you said, your words surprising even yourself.

jaehyun looks at you, eyes widening slightly before they darken with something deeper—something he’s clearly been holding back. “are you sure?” he asks, voice low, almost trembling with restraint.

you nod, stepping closer, your fingers brushing against his bare chest. “i’m sure.”

his hands find your waist gently at first, testing the waters, but when you lean into him, he pulls you in like he’s been waiting forever to hold you like this. his lips find yours in a kiss that starts soft, exploratory, but quickly deepens, hungry and needing. he walks you backwards slowly until the back of your knees hit the bed, and you fall onto it with a soft gasp, taking him with you.

his hands roam your body, reverent and slow, like he’s memorizing every inch of you. he whispers your name against your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, and lower still. your breath hitches when his mouth lingers between your thighs, his eyes meeting yours, waiting for any sign to stop—but you nod again, your fingers threading into his hair, guiding him closer.

what he gives you isn’t rushed. it’s worship. like he’s been dreaming of this moment for too long to waste it. you lose yourself in the rhythm of his mouth, the way he listens to your body, adjusting, teasing, giving. he doesn’t stop until your thighs are shaking and your voice is broken with moans you couldn’t hold back.

when he finally crawls back up your body, his lips kiss yours again, slower this time, tasting you. he whispers, “still okay?” and you nod, pulling him closer.

when he slides into you, it’s not hurried or careless. it’s deep, slow, and overwhelming in the best way. you cling to him, breathless, as your bodies move together like they were made to. he holds your gaze, foreheads pressed together, sweat-damp skin sticking in the summer heat, but neither of you care.

you whisper his name like a prayer, and he answers with yours, over and over, like he’s trying to brand it into the moment.

you fall apart in his arms, not once, but twice, and he follows soon after, burying his face in your neck as he trembles against you. 

his lips are still on yours when he pushes deeper inside you, and this time, there’s no hesitation. your body arches under him, the stretch of him delicious and overwhelming all at once. he fills you slowly, inch by inch, like he wants to feel every reaction he pulls from you.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he breathes out, forehead resting against yours. “been thinking about this for so long.”

you moan softly, nails dragging down his back as he starts to move, slow at first, rolling his hips into you with precision that makes your legs tremble. he kisses down your throat, biting softly at your skin as he picks up the pace, each thrust hitting deeper, harder. the headboard taps gently against the wall, a quiet rhythm that matches the sound of your breathy moans and his soft, low groans.

your fingers clutch the sheets, the pleasure building with every thrust. jaehyun’s hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider for him, and the new angle has you gasping his name, your voice breaking. he doesn’t stop—he can’t stop—lost in the feel of you, the sounds you make, the way your body clings to his like it’s the only place it belongs.

he pulls out just enough to see the way you take him, watching your slick coat his length before sliding back in with a filthy, wet sound that makes your toes curl. “look at you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing your lower lip, eyes locked on yours. “so fucking beautiful like this.”

when he shifts, propping one of your legs over his shoulder, the angle has you crying out, your whole body shuddering. “you’re so deep,” you whimper, and he groans, hips snapping faster, harder, chasing both your highs like a man starved.

your climax hits hard—white-hot and blinding—as your walls clamp down around him, dragging him over the edge with you. he cums with a strangled moan, burying himself to the hilt, his hips stuttering as he spills into you. he stays there, chest pressed to yours, breathing heavy, hearts pounding in sync.

after a few moments, he pulls out slowly, carefully, kissing your shoulder as he lies beside you and pulls you into his arms.

your body’s still trembling when he runs a hand down your spine, voice low and thick with affection. “think we’re still just sleeping?”

you laugh softly against his chest, lazy fingers tracing circles on his skin. “not a chance.”

he kisses the top of your head. “then let’s not sleep yet.”

and before you can even respond, he’s already kissing down your body again—because one round clearly wasn’t enough.

you barely have time to catch your breath before jaehyun’s mouth is back on your skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your chest, between your breasts, over your stomach. his hands roam your thighs with greedy fingers, and even though you’re still sensitive, your body responds instantly—needy, aching, already ready for him again.

“you’re still so wet,” he murmurs, spreading you open with his fingers, dragging two of them slowly through your folds. “fuck, baby… you’re dripping.”

your hips jerk when he circles your clit, light and teasing, and you whine, fingers gripping the sheets. “j-jaehyun…”

he smirks, dark eyes meeting yours as he sinks his fingers into you—slow, deep, curling just right. “you can take it, can’t you?” he says, voice thick with lust. “you want it again.”

you nod helplessly, mouth parted as your back arches off the bed. he fucks you with his fingers until you’re trembling again, begging for him, grinding down onto his hand like you can’t get enough—and you can’t.

when he pulls his fingers out and lines himself up again, there’s no patience this time. he pushes in all at once, rougher, deeper, making your breath catch in your throat. the stretch, the pressure, the heat—it’s almost too much, but you crave every second of it.

he fucks you like he owns you now, one hand on your hip, the other pressing down on your stomach so he can feel himself inside you. “you feel that?” he groans. “you’re taking all of me.”

your moans turn shameless, high-pitched and raw, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the room with every thrust. the bed creaks, the headboard pounds against the wall, and you don’t care who hears. he flips you onto your stomach without warning, pulling your hips up, and slides back into you from behind.

you cry out at the new angle, your hands clawing at the sheets as he drives into you, deeper than before. “god—jaehyun, i’m gonna—”

“cum for me,” he growls, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back to kiss the side of your neck. “cum all over my cock, baby.”

your orgasm hits like a shockwave, blinding and hot and overwhelming. your whole body shakes, legs giving out beneath you as he keeps fucking you through it. he follows moments later, groaning your name as he fills you again, hips jerking against your ass, the sound of it all so filthy and perfect.

this time, when you collapse together on the bed, everything is soaked in sweat and heat and the scent of sex. your body is limp, your mind dazed, and he just pulls you close, wrapping you in his arms like he’s never letting go.

“okay,” you whisper, laughing breathlessly. “now we might need to sleep.”

he chuckles against your hair, voice rough. “maybe. after round three.”

that night at the motel changed everything.

it wasn’t just the sex—though, god, it was incredible. it was the way his hands learned your body like a second language, the way he whispered your name like a secret, the way you both let yourselves fall without fear. that night was messy, breathless, and soaked in want. but more than anything, it was a turning point—a quiet, unspoken agreement that this was no longer just something casual. not for either of you.

after that, the line between love and lust blurred beautifully. sex became part of your rhythm, part of how you communicated. stolen glances in the office turned into stolen kisses in the elevator. late nights became sleepovers, and every morning-after was filled with lazy touches and knowing smiles. you memorized each other’s moans like favorite songs, found new ways to say i want you, even when the words themselves weren’t spoken.

but there was one night that stood out. the one you still think about more than any other.

it was the night you stayed over at his apartment—just the two of you, no distractions, no storms outside, only the slow burn between your bodies. dinner turned into kisses. kisses turned into the first round on his kitchen counter, then the second in the shower, steam fogging up the mirror as your bodies tangled and slipped together like water and flame.

by the third round, it was past midnight. you were already sore, breathless, but insatiable. he pulled you back into bed, whispering things in your ear that made your skin burn. he was rougher that time—hungrier—gripping your hips as he fucked you deep and slow, drawing out every moan until your voice was hoarse and your mind was gone.

you were on top, riding him with lazy, desperate rhythm, your head thrown back, your nails digging into his chest. he looked up at you like you were something divine, his hands guiding your pace, eyes locked on the place where your bodies met.

and just when your orgasm started to hit—when everything went hot and tight and unbearably good—the words slipped out of you.

“i love you.”

your voice cracked around it, high and trembling, your body still grinding against his, your climax crashing over you like a wave. for a split second, everything stopped. you felt him freeze beneath you, heard the sharp intake of breath, saw the shock in his eyes.

you hadn’t meant to say it like that. not in the middle of fucking. not when you were bare in every sense of the word.

it was reckless. vulnerable. raw.

but not wrong.

his hands gripped your waist tighter, and then he was sitting up, arms wrapping around you, thrusting up into you so hard and deep that you sobbed out his name.

“i love you too,” he groaned against your neck. “fuck, i love you so much—too much.”

and then he came—hard and fast, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

afterward, you just lay there on top of him, chest to chest, skin to skin, hearts pounding in unison. there was no awkwardness. no regret. only this strange, beautiful calm that settled over the room like dawn.

it was in that moment you realized just how deep your feelings for him ran.

what had started as a simple plan—just something to avoid growing old alone—had become the best part of your life. somewhere along the way, between the office visits and shared glances, motel rooms and quiet mornings, you had fallen hopelessly, madly in love with jaehyun.

and the craziest part?

you couldn’t imagine ever thinking of anything—or anyone—else but him.

august wrapped around you like a golden ribbon, thick with heat and filled with the kind of breathless anticipation that only comes after months of hard work. the project was done—finally—after weeks of stress, endless reports, last-minute corrections and late nights. but it was done. and not just done, but successful. glowing feedback, client satisfaction, numbers that sang. it was more than you had dared to hope for.

and then—the email.

subject line: promotion confirmation.

you stared at it for a full minute before opening it. and when you read the words “congratulations, supervisor,” your breath hitched. you covered your mouth. you gasped. and then you ran.

jaehyun wasn’t even at his desk anymore, he was just walking into the hallway when you caught him. “jaehyun!” you called, your voice trembling with a kind of joy that had nowhere to go.

he turned, concerned for half a second—until he saw your face. and then you said it.

“i got it.”

“you got what?” he blinked, confused.

“the promotion.”

his eyes widened. he froze for a second. and then—his arms were around you before you could even finish breathing. he lifted you, spinning you once, twice, both of you laughing as you clutched his shoulders and buried your face in his neck.

“oh my god, baby—you did it! i knew it, i knew you would!”

you were dizzy, and not just from the spinning. he kissed your cheek, your temple, your lips. everything was warm and golden and right.

he took you out that night.

you didn’t go anywhere fancy—jaehyun insisted that celebrations should be personal, not performative. so he drove you to that one little pizzeria you loved, the one that made the potato crust just the way you liked it. he ordered your usual without asking, and when the wine came, he raised his glass first.

“to you,” he said, his eyes soft and gleaming under the low light. “my brilliant, unstoppable, incredible woman.”

your heart swelled so fast it almost ached. the clink of your glasses felt like the sound of a new chapter opening.

“i’ve never had this before,” you confessed, fingers curling around the stem of your glass. “celebrating something this big. with someone i love. it feels…” you laughed, shy and overwhelmed. “it feels like everything’s different now.”

jaehyun reached for your hand, his thumb stroking the back of it slowly.

“it is different,” he said. “because now, every good thing that happens to you—we get to celebrate it. together.”

you stared at him, your chest tight with emotion, with the kind of love that had no bottom, no edge. just more.

you leaned across the table, kissing him slow, deep, grateful. pizza between you, wine in your veins, your laughter echoing off the walls of that tiny booth.

you didn’t need fireworks.

this was better.

this was yours.

mid-september arrived with a softness that clung to the air—warm enough to feel like summer still lingered, but mellowed by the early hints of fall. the leaves hadn’t turned yet, but something in the wind carried change. maybe that’s what had been stirring inside you all week—a restless certainty that had taken root in your chest and bloomed with every kiss, every sleepy morning wrapped around each other, every whispered i love you that escaped your lips without hesitation. it had been five months, five months of chaos and clarity, of fire and softness, and you knew now—you didn’t want to wait anymore.

you wanted jaehyun. not in a month. not after careful plans. now.

so you climbed the steps to his office, heart thudding like a war drum, nerves tangled with determination. you paused outside the door, breathed once, twice, and knocked.

“come in,” his voice called, muffled behind the heavy door.

you stepped in and found him at his desk, back slightly hunched, focused on the glow of his screen. he looked up, and the moment he saw you, he smiled—that slow, dazzling smile that always made your knees feel like melted wax—and stood immediately, walking toward you without hesitation. he cupped your face, leaned in, and kissed you like he’d been waiting to do it all day.

“jaehyun,” you said, voice almost trembling, more from the gravity of what you were about to say than nerves. he pulled back slightly, tilting his head.

“yeah?”

you met his eyes and, without giving yourself the chance to second-guess it, you let it fall from your lips.

“i want to marry you.”

his lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across his features. he blinked, as if trying to be sure he heard you right.

“i know, baby,” he said, a soft chuckle lacing his words. “that was the whole deal, right? but remember—we said after november. we’d have more time to plan, get everything ready—”

“no,” you interrupted, stepping forward, clutching his hands tightly. “i don’t want to wait till november. i mean it. i want to marry you now. today, tomorrow, next week—i don’t care when or how. i just want to be yours. forever.”

he stared at you, quiet. processing. his brows drew together, and then lifted again like the meaning had just landed fully. his hands gripped yours tighter.

“but—what about the wedding? your parents, mine—”

“we’ll figure it out,” you whispered. “but this... this love we have, i don’t want to keep treating it like something that needs to be scheduled. it’s real. it’s now.”

he took a breath, deep and full. and then, his expression softened into something vulnerable and glowing—his eyes shone with something deeper than just affection. he leaned his forehead against yours and whispered, “you want to be my wife.”

you nodded, lips brushing his as you breathed, “more than anything.”

his thumbs brushed over your cheeks, as if committing this moment to memory. “then we’ll do it. not because it’s rushed, but because we know. we’ve known. and if you want to be my wife now... then i’ll make it happen. we’ll get married. i promise.”

and he kissed you again, this time slower, as if sealing an oath between your mouths.

the proposal happened three days later.

he told you it was just a normal date—dinner, then a walk somewhere scenic. no pressure. he even played it off by wearing something casual: a white linen shirt, sleeves rolled, soft beige slacks, and the cleanest pair of loafers you’d ever seen. he looked devastatingly handsome without trying.

he picked you up and drove toward the edge of the city, toward the river trail where the summer festivals were usually held. the area was quiet now, early autumn having driven the crowds away. but fairy lights still dangled from the trees, twinkling faintly as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting a warm, honeyed hue over everything.

he walked with you along the wooden path, your fingers tangled. his hand was slightly clammy. you noticed, and your heart fluttered, thinking—he’s nervous. the realization made you giddy.

and then, just as you reached the little bridge that overlooked the water, he stopped.

“wait here,” he said softly, squeezing your hand. “don’t move.”

he jogged a few steps ahead, ducked behind a low fence near a cluster of trees, and returned with a bouquet of peonies—your favorite. you hadn’t told him that. he remembered.

your eyes began to water.

he handed them to you, smiling shyly, and then pulled something out of his pocket.

a velvet box.

he opened it without a speech, without fanfare. his voice was soft, his eyes locked on yours like the world outside didn’t exist.

“you already said yes,” he whispered. “but i want to do this right.”

he got down on one knee, the gravel crunching beneath him, and held the ring up.

“y/n, will you marry me—not next month, not in theory, not in some future we’re still trying to picture... but now. for real. because i’m yours. and you’re mine.”

you didn’t cry. you sobbed. like an idiot. like a girl who had waited her whole life for someone like him. you nodded so fast your vision blurred and fell into his arms, and he kissed you like he was promising you the rest of forever.

in that moment, september never felt sweeter.

telling the company was a whole thing.

it started with a scheduled meeting—a weekly operations check-in with the usual suspects: team leads, upper management, the supervisor, and a couple of sharp-eyed executives who never missed a detail. it was jaehyun’s idea to make it official at work, to do it clean and direct and proudly. no rumors. no hiding. just the truth, glowing and solid like the ring that now lived permanently on your finger.

you both walked into the meeting room together, which wasn’t unusual, but something in the way your hands brushed as you took your seat already had jungwoo giving you the side-eye.

the presentation started, charts and projections lighting up the screen behind jaehyun as he stood with calm confidence. it was business as usual—until the last slide.

"before we wrap up," he said, glancing back at the room, his eyes finding yours briefly before turning to the group again, "i have one personal announcement to make."

you swallowed. jungwoo leaned forward like a damn hawk. mr. choi narrowed his eyes suspiciously, as if he'd been waiting for this moment since spring.

jaehyun smiled—soft, boyish, unbothered. “as some of you may know… or have guessed," he said, and gave jungwoo a teasing look that made him gasp, "i knew it," he muttered dramatically—"y/n and i have been seeing each other for a while.”

the room exploded. a gasp from the secretary and the supervisor actually choked on his coffee. someone in the back whispered “what the fuck” under their breath.

jaehyun held up a hand, a little smug, a little amused.

“and, as of last weekend… we’re engaged.”

your cheeks were burning. your heart thundered. you expected chaos, maybe disapproval, but what followed was—

cheering. clapping. wide eyes and stunned smiles. even mr. choi looked like he was trying very hard not to grin.

“you’re marrying jaehyun? our jaehyun?” he blinked at her, then looked at jaehyun like he’d just discovered a double life. “okay, i knew something was going on. i’m not blind. but marriage? dude, that’s insane. like, insane in the good way, but—holy shit.”

you stood up, feeling brave. “we just didn’t want to hide it anymore,” you said. “we’re really happy. and we hope you’ll be happy for us too.”

the room burst into applause again. someone shouted, “wedding invites or we riot!”

the parents came next.

you visited your family first. your mom opened the door and immediately noticed the ring. she gasped, dropped the dish towel she was holding, and squealed in that way only mothers can. within seconds, your dad was there too, grinning, eyes glossy, holding jaehyun’s shoulder like he was already part of the family.

"are you kidding me," your mom kept saying. "you're engaged? oh my god, you're engaged!"

you nodded, trying not to cry as she hugged you so tight it hurt.

“he’s everything i ever wanted for you,” your dad told you quietly, before giving jaehyun a very serious handshake. “you take care of her.”

“always,” jaehyun promised, voice thick with sincerity.

then it was his parents' turn.

you were more nervous, but you shouldn’t have been. the moment jaehyun’s mom saw you, she pulled you into a hug, muttering in korean how beautiful you were, how she’d been praying her son would be smart enough to not let you go. his dad was more reserved, but the sparkle in his eye said everything. when jaehyun said, “we’re getting married,” his mother clapped her hands and screamed like she’d just won the lottery.

“we’re so happy,” she said, eyes shining. “you are already family.”

they brought out food, wine, photos from jaehyun’s childhood. his mom made you take home a tupperware of kimchi and a crocheted doily she claimed she made for whoever he married one day. she said she just had a feeling it was going to be you, and jaehyun turned red.

it turned out that weddings—real weddings—took a lot more time to plan than y/n had expected. even with jaehyun’s calming presence and the help of a surprisingly competent wedding planner, the months passed like petals falling from a tree: softly, quickly, too beautifully to hold onto.

they settled on march 28. it gave them just enough time to breathe, to build, to dream together.

from the moment they told everyone—first their friends, then their families, and finally, in a hilariously formal email, the entire company—the whirlwind began. the announcement caused a stir so loud in the office that y/n had to leave her desk just to get some peace.

the directivos were equally shocked, though mostly amused. her supervisor just nodded sagely, like he’d been betting on this since the beginning.

“you two were always ‘too in sync’,” he said, raising his coffee mug in mock toast. “i give it six months before one of you becomes the other's boss at home too.”

and then came the parents.

jaehyun’s mother cried when she met y/n, tears slipping down her cheeks as she hugged her tight and whispered in korean, “you’re even more beautiful than he said. and i knew he was in love the first time he said your name.”

her own parents, after recovering from the initial shock, became obsessively involved in the planning, sending flower samples, playlist suggestions, and opinions on wedding favors at all hours of the day. but none of it was overwhelming. not with jaehyun there, always pulling her back into calm. always making sure this was their wedding, not anyone else’s.

they chose a venue outside the city—a small vineyard with soft hills, blooming wisteria, and golden light that melted everything it touched. march 28 arrived with the scent of earth and lilac, a warm wind, and the sky so blue it almost hurt to look at.

y/n stood before a mirror in a white gown that made her feel like everything good in the world had been sewn together just for her. she could hear the quiet rustle of guests arriving, the soft music playing in the distance, the laughter of children running between the rows of flowers.

and then, jaehyun.

when she saw him waiting at the altar, dressed in a suit that fit like second skin, with his hair slightly tousled and a look in his eyes that could undo galaxies—she forgot how to breathe.

he mouthed “you’re perfect” as she walked down the aisle.

she mouthed “you’re mine.”

the ceremony was intimate, emotional, wrapped in vows that made everyone cry—even jungwoo, who tried to play it off by pretending he had allergies.

“i promise to protect your dreams as fiercely as my own,” jaehyun said, voice trembling slightly, “and to always make sure your pizza has the right amount of potato crust, even when we’re eighty.”

“i promise to choose you, even on the days we forget how lucky we are,” y/n replied, tears in her eyes. “and to never let the fire between us die, even when we’re old and gray.”

they kissed.

and the world felt new again.

their first dance was under strings of fairy lights, barefoot on the grass. the song was soft, a slow jazz tune that jaehyun had played for her once in the car when she’d been crying. now, with her head against his chest, they swayed like the wind had been made just for them.

“we did it,” she whispered.

“we did,” he said. “and i’d marry you again tomorrow if i could.”

the honeymoon came a few days later. they chose santorini, greece, not for the postcard beauty or luxury, but because y/n had once told him, offhandedly, that she always dreamed of watching the sun melt into the sea from a white rooftop. he remembered.

their suite was perched on a cliff, overlooking the caldera, with white walls and blue domes and windows that opened to eternity. the first night, they sat on the balcony with a bottle of wine, their feet touching, their hands always searching for each other.

they kissed under sunsets and made love under stars. they danced in narrow streets, shared kisses between sips of ouzo, fed each other olives and sweet baklava. they were ridiculous. and in love. and utterly themselves.

“this is the life i want,” y/n whispered one night, tangled in cotton sheets, her cheek against his chest.

“then it’s the life we’ll have,” jaehyun said. “forever.”

and this time, forever didn’t sound like a fairytale.

it sounded like a promise.

three years passed like chapters in a love letter—written slowly, lived fully.

you and jaehyun made a home out of a sleek little apartment tucked into the rhythm of the city. it was all black wood and soft gray, velvet cushions and open windows where sunlight poured in like gold. it wasn’t big, but it held your whole world. your toothbrushes leaned against each other. your shoes tangled by the door. your laughter lived in the walls.

mornings were sleepy and soft—coffee mugs clinking, your legs wrapped around his under the kitchen table, newspaper pages ignored in favor of each other’s eyes. nights were even softer—blankets twisted around you, movie soundtracks playing in the background while your fingers danced across his skin. the kind of love that didn’t need grand gestures—just the warmth of his palm on your thigh and the way he said “come here” like home itself.

but then, one evening, the quiet changed.

you were in the bathroom. pacing. heart in your throat. your phone timer ticked like thunder in the silence. the test rested on the sink, small and still—like it held the weight of the universe. you sat on the edge of the tub, knees pulled up, trying to breathe.

when the timer stopped, you moved like you were underwater. slow. hesitant. scared.

two pink lines.

you stared. blinked. stared again.

your lips parted, the shape of a whisper you couldn’t form. your hands trembled, and for a moment, the whole world tilted—just you and that tiny piece of plastic and everything it now meant.

you stepped out of the bathroom, barefoot, holding the test like it might shatter.

jaehyun was on the couch, lounging with his phone, one leg bent lazily, hair tousled from running his hand through it too many times. he looked up. paused. frowned softly. “baby… what is it?”

you didn’t answer right away. just walked toward him—slow, like the floor might disappear—and placed the test in his hand.

“we’re gonna be parents!!”

the silence cracked. and then—

jaehyun surged forward, arms wrapping around you so tight you gasped. he lifted you off the ground, spinning you around the living room like a kid on christmas morning, laughter bursting from his chest, from yours, from some place deep inside where all the hope had been hiding.

you were both crying. laughing. kissing. saying “we did it!” over and over again like a prayer you never thought you’d get to say out loud. he pressed his forehead to yours, voice shaking, “we’re having a baby.”

“we’re having our baby,” you whispered.

months passed like petals falling from a blooming tree.

you were glowing. exhausted, but glowing.

your blush-pink maternity dress clung gently to your growing belly, printed with tiny white florals that made jaehyun smile every time he saw you in it. your feet were bare, your ankles swollen, your back ached constantly—but he was always there, hands rubbing your spine, lips on your shoulder, whispering, “you’re magic, you know that?”

the nursery was nearly finished—lavender walls painted with care, gold stars twinkling on the ceiling, and a soft mobile that played lullabies like stardust. the crib waited, delicate and perfect, with a plush bunny nestled in the corner.

jaehyun was kneeling by the dresser, sweat on his brow, tongue between his teeth as he finished the final drawer. he looked up, eyes finding you immediately, and god—he looked at you like the whole sky lived inside your smile.

“she’s gonna love this room,” he said, standing to press a hand to your belly. his palm warm. grounding. full of quiet awe. “our little moon.”

you leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “i hope she gets your eyes,” you whispered.

he smiled, eyes soft with wonder. “and your heart,” he murmured. “especially your heart.”

the room went quiet again—except for the soft hum of the mobile spinning slowly above the crib. gold stars turned, catching the light.

and in that moment, just one suspended, breathless moment, everything was still.

you. him. her.

and the love that built it all.

finally. completely.

it has finally come. a dreaded time that both you and your boyfriend, baekhyun, were anxious to face.

his enlistment.

in an ideal world, you wouldn't have to distance yourself from your loved one for such a long amount of time... but as stated by law, he'd have to dedicate his next two years to the stern military of his home country. away from you.

baekhyun moped endlessly, and if he was already a clingy boyfriend, he'd get extreme by the time the unavoidable fate approached, which you'd find a bit too much if you didn't feel sad as well. he assured you that you just wouldn't see him for the first two months, when he'd receive the obligatory military training, and after that, he'd be assigned to public service, and you would at least be able to see him more often through visiting and on his off days.

for someone like baekhyun, the first days were the hardest. having to reshape his routine and manners to one that was arduous and demanding made him miss the comfort you brought him terribly, as he also felt really conscious about his buzz cut. he didn't send any pictures, to which you got slightly annoyed, but let him slide as the feeling of missing him accompanied you daily. he even had limited phone usage to a few hours, so he wasn't even be able to read your goodnight and good morning texts on time.

needless to say, baekhyun hated it. all of it. but got somewhat accustomed to the repetitive routine, adapting to what was needed from him while making some colleagues over the shared barrack.

it was only after two whole months that baekhyun was, finally, assigned to his public services, meaning he would be able to start having visiting times from relatives and friends. though he couldn't say he wasn't happily surprised when he was told that you were there since even before his break.

he strided over to the main building to find you with your summer dress, sat by the entrance with a plastic container on your hands. you seemed distracted by your own thoughts, taking a second to feel the loving presence of his gaze on you after long two months. when you noticed him, it finally took him out of his stun, with the both of you rushing towards each other with wide smiles, happy that the hardest part was over, and that you'd be able to be in each other's presence, even if for limited time.

"love..." baekhyun said as he engulfed you in strong arms. "god. I'm so glad you're here."

completing his military training was no simple feat, exerting baekhyun's muscles to the max. therefore, he gained weight in lean mass, and grew more than ever since you last saw him. it was a surprising feeling, to say the least, making you speechless.

"I missed you." he said before leaning back to see your surprised face and the warm container that you held between your bodies.

"I missed you too..." was all you could muster to speak, still somewhat baffled at the striking differences that complemented baekhyun. "I-I brought you food..." you said shyly, to which made him light up even more.

"oh my god, really? what did you bring?" he asked excitedly, already opening the container from your hands and smelling its contents with a satisfied look. it would always make you blush when he appreciated your attempts at cooking.

"i-it's just some usual meat with vegetables, I felt you could use more energy since they're making you work so hard..." you stuttered slightly, eyeing him in uniform, his already broad shoulders looked even wider, his biceps somewhat straining the fabric of the camouflaged jacket.

baekhyun smiled sweetly once again and closed the container, his face contrasting with the strong energy he exuded. "you're so thoughtful, my love. I missed your cooking the most, since the rations here are kind of bland..." he grimaced, "not to mention awful..." he whispered, but noticed your analyzing eyes.

you wanted to act normally and just indulge in his presence like usual, but you couldn't come up with any words as you took him in. he almost looked taller, if that could even be possible. your eyes found his cap, wondering how would his hair look in a buzz cut.

"what is it, love? you look so... surprised..." he said nervously, as if self-conscious with himself. he knew you were curious to see how he looked when he told you he was growing muscles by his phone, but your face still seemed taken aback.

"it's just... wow... you look so different..." you murmured, eyebrows raised. and even if you didn't mean to make him think he looked that different, he did. his skin, although still flawless, looked a bit tanned. "you're so much bigger and... sturdy... and..." you trailed off, eyes blinking as you raked his uniformed body.

"is it bad...?" baekhyun murmured as your hand found his shoulders.

instantly, your eyes went up to his, frowning in confusion when you met his worried, droopy gaze. his unconscious pout tugged your heartstrings.

"what do you mean bad...? you could never look bad, even if you tried." you said, wondering what were his thoughts as he breathed deeply.

you knew that it's been a while, but you didn't ever think you'd find him anything less than strikingly handsome.

"it's just that... I feel like a different person, and I wasn't really sure if you'd like me like..." he trailed off, signaling downwards to his body, "this." he looked downwards, but found your eyes as you pulled his chin back to face you, making your heart skip at the cuteness of his wish to appease you even in times where the only thing you cared about was seeing him healthy.

"oh, baekhyun," you hummed fondly, caressing his cheek, pulling his head closer to touch your foreheads, closing your eyes as you spoke, "I don't think there could ever be a world where I didn't think you look good, and even if so, I wouldn't care." you opened your eyes, meeting his with a smile, "besides, you'll always be my puppy boyfriend, no matter how you look."

that made him smile genuinely, closing his eyes as he chuckled while basking silently in the gracing presence of you, who made him so much more sure of himself.

but that wasn't enough for you.

you wanted him to know just how much you liked him like this. you cleared your throat mustering courage you didn't normally have, trying to keep your eyes locked with his. "and..." you started, swallowing dry. "do you realize just... how sexy you look like this...?"

that seemed to turn a switch on his head, his eyes opening wide to find your shy ones. his mouth opened and closed a few times, his eyebrows jumping, as multiple emotions passed through his head, making you nervous if your words were appropriate.

it took him a few seconds for him to register your words, but the closeness of you and the way you wanted to go out of your way to make him feel better made his eyes narrow with a newfound glint.

"is that so, love...?" he lowered his tone, looking at how you sheepishly eyed his bigger biceps, making him flex them unconsciously, as his hands started descending on your body innocently. this made him lower his gaze as well to your summer dress, thinking about how it conveniently fell above your knees.

baekhyun pulled your waist closer to indulge in your presence more properly, sniffing your neck in a way that sent you goosebumps all over. your eyes widened in search of anyone that could possibly be near.

"w-wait, baekhyun, what are you doing...?" you stuttered as he breathed in your neck, keeping you still with his large hands on your waist, your own holding out his torso. luckily, the weren't any people around except for a cadet on the front desk, who wasn't even paying close attention to your interaction.

"I just missed you so much, my angel... you smell so good..." he whispered on your ear, sending even more shivers through your whole body, awakening a familiar feeling that started stirring on your lower stomach, mostly due to how long you went without having him close that way.

"y-you should eat your food before it gets cold... how long is your break...? thirty minutes?" you murmured back, gulping at the way he looked at you.

the last time you saw that look in front of you was two months ago, when he had the brilliant idea of making mementos for when you separated. the making of such actually lasted three whole days, and when you looked at the folder again after he enlisted, you noticed he left even more 'gifts' as a surprise.

you used that folder a lot since then.

"as much as I love your cooking with all my heart... there's something else I'm craving to eat, love." baekhyun said close to your lips, which were somehow even more tantalizing than he remembered. the way you bit them when nervous was enough to make him grovel in want.

you blinked so many times, feeling your heart do somersaults in your ribcage. the words he said were so cheeky, you wanted to laugh at his face and roll your eyes, but you were just so... weak.

"are you crazy?! we're kind of in the open of your base!" you whisper-shouted, looking at the cadet who worked on the front desk, staring at his computer with a stressful look.

"do you trust me?" was what baekhyun said amdist your protests, making you nod despite feeling unsure of what he had on his mind.

he asked another question closer to your face, not caring if the other saw it. "do you miss me?" and you were sure he meant more than just missing his presence.

but yes.

yes, you did.

your conviction surpassed your hesitation by a mile. you missed your boyfriend so much that only you and him knew how much it took a toll on you emotionally, and god knows he feels guilty, despite having no control over your situation. despite you making the most effort to cherish every little thing he could give you.

he looked at the reception cadet with a determined look, approaching his desk confidently. "hey, daegu guy! captain said it's your turn to unclog the toilet. he's kind of in a bad mood today, so I think you should go right now if you don't want to do 300 push-ups."

"what the fuck? again? I already did that twice this week, holy shit." the cadet mumbled before standing up to hurry outward towards the camps with annoyance.

before you could ask what baekhyun was thinking, he pulled you swiftly past the visiting area, looking around for a specific section. your mouth parted in a gasp and your heartbeat sped up, but he soon found the small storage room that was by the end of a deserted hallway, pulling you inside.

"baekhyun, what are we—" you tried to speak, but he interrupted your question and crashed his lips against yours, which were successful at shutting you up.

he pushed you against the door, locking it blindly behind you while his body pinned you in place. "I found this place a few weeks ago. been using it to take a breather ever since. no one comes here."

he pecked you repeatedly, licking your lips desperately as he murmured hoarsely. "missed you... so fucking bad." it made you part your lips to breathe, something he was already expecting as he pushed his tongue inside while his hands already rushed under your dress skirt to squeeze your stockinged thighs. you heard him effectively growl when he felt your garterbelts, making you blush and your eyes flutter, it didn't help how his blunt nails tried scratched your hip.

"you're such a fucking vixen for me, aren't you, my angel?" his voice murmured on your ear as he started kissing your neck, alternating his wet kisses with nibbles that made your breath hitch. you have dealt with desperate baekhyun before a few times, but this was a whole different level.

it's not like you wanted something to happen at this visit, since you didn't even think you'd get alone time with him. maybe your subconscious just craved the feeling of dressing for him.

"I just wanted to... d-dress prettily to meet y-you...!" you strained to get your words out without whimpering, scared of being found out.

"that's okay, love. you're gonna look the prettiest coming all over my face. do you want that?" baekhyun hummed in your ear, making you widen your eyes in a short circuit of your thoughts.

he was being serious. you knew that tone quite well.

"h-here?!" you gasped with a blush, making him lean back to caress your face in a more contained expression. he sighed, cupping both your cheeks.

"if you don't want it, we can just hold each other. that's fine by me, you know that." his voice said lovingly, contrasting with the fire you still feel from feeling his rock hard chest on yours.

you know you would be lying if the thought of being made his with the risk of getting caught didn't excite you, it wouldn't even be the first time. you felt your lower body even more bothered, making you bite your lip as you thought about the consequences, finding his eyes after a few seconds.

his eyes watched you with his own amount of care, undoubtedly making your heart flutter with the way you could drown in them. you touched his cheeks with newfound comfort, taking his cap off to caress his buzz cut, catching him off guard. the short strands felt foreign on your fingertips. your nails easily grazing his scalp without his usual fluffy curls, making him hum lowly and close his eyes.

you knew you had him, which only made your want more prominent, knowing you could trust him with your life.

"I miss... feeling you, baekhyun." you murmur, watching the way his eyes easily darken from your gentle words, but not quite satisfied. "so yes... i... want this with you." you finished, seeing his soft grin on his face, knowing your next actions would be anything but.

"then stay quiet for me, love. can you do that for me?" he murmured, pushing his face onto your neck, venturing with nibbles under your ear that made your hairs stand. his hand slipped further under your summer dress, finally reaching your plush behind and squeezing your flesh tightly under your garments. his breathing grew ragged as his lips bit your pale skin with gentle love bites.

"god I missed your smell all over me. so damn sweet." you heard him say as he pulled your skirt over your hips, exposing your lower half as he kneeled in front of you, his eyes fixed on your face before finding your lace. one of many he's gifted you.

"so fucking pretty..." baekhyun groaned on your thighs as his hand pressed against your panties. "and incredibly wet, aren't you? does my girl miss me that bad, that just a few words can get her like this, hm?" he said, pressing against your clit without even looking.

he knew your body by heart, knowing how much you'd have to control yourself not to make any loud noise. you bit your lower lip, nodding your head pathetically as you looked down at him pressing his nose against the soaked fabric, sniffing it like a madman.

you gasped his name quietly, feeling him pull your garments aside to shove his tongue inside with a deep groan.

"god, you're so delectable. I was losing my mind with not being able to eat you out every couple of days..." baekhyun hummed between your folds, sending vibrations that obligated you to bite your hand, your eyes glassy as your mind registered the noises made by his mouth on you.

he lapped skillfully, eventually moving under your dress and breaking your line of sight, but the way he worked you made you sure you'd be unable to focus your thoughts on anything. you felt your panties moving further down, with him coaxing you to carefully lift your trembling legs over his shoulders, sustaining your weight with ease along the door behind you as he tossed the lace back.

"gonna make you come at least once before I enter you, love." he breathed raggedly, making you flinch at the insertion of his index that found your spot within seconds, curling repeatedly in a stinging, yet delicious stretch.

he shushed you softly, kissing your dripping inner thigh before he inserted another, making you swat the door behind you in a desperate attempt to ground yourself when his thumb found your clit.

"got so tight over just a few weeks... your fingers don't suffice, right baby? are you using the gifts I left you with?" baekhyun murmured devilishly, and you swore you'd cuss him if you could.

he eventually slapped your core before nibbling and suckling on your bundle, not ceasing his fingers that pushed in and out of your throbbing center with ease.

baekhyun drove you to tears every time he ate you out, and being without him was harder than you ever realized.

he was an artist with the way he touched you, loved you, devoured you. it was like he could reach the deepest parts of you only with his fingers, your own paling in comparison.

"so pretty. so, so damn pretty. fucking dreamed of you in those barracks." he cursed, raising your mind too high for comfort, and you were glad you could stop your voice as your tight coil snapped, flowing over his face and fingers.

you thighs trembled, your hands shook against the door behind you while you let out a silent scream over the hard bite he left on your inner thigh. his way of leaving a mark.

you panted silent, barely registering as baekhyun held you up, standing up between your legs as he took your lips, awakening you from your afterglow in a ravishing kiss.

your worries were now last priority as you cupped his head, meeting his lips and tongue with a bit of teeth, tugging his lower lip to earn a low groan of your name.

"I love you." he said softly, but the way he undid his camo pants was anything but contained, making you look down as your hand found his throbbing need with rapidness.

"I love you too." you hummed, stroking him as your foreheads met, seeing him struggle not to moan at the feeling of your soft, warm palm.

you were about to raise one leg around his waist, but he was quicker, raising your whole body against the door, prodding the tip of his cock over your entrance, surpising you.

"ready?" he murmured, hearing your instant response and entering your soaked walls with a moan that you were quick to stop with a kiss, tangling your tongues while he bottomed out within you in a brief strain, making you frown slightly.

"fuck... oh fuck, you're squeezing me–!" baekhyun hissed, his eyes closed as you gripped his uniform. "you okay? am i hurting you...?" he hummed, his eyes finding yours in soft concern amidst holding his grip against your tight one.

"n-no... i'm fine, just... been a bit." you breathed, your other hand finding his cheek as you shook your head. "just start slow, please..." you said, making him nod repeatedly as his hips started a gentle, torturous pace, that almost made you throw your head back against the storage room's door.

the way he felt inside was overwhelming for both, stretching you gently after two months apart. you could feel one hand finding your lower stomach to feel himself like always, his girth too much to be concealed within you.

pulsating and merciless, while at the same time, fulfilling and reassuring, like it's meant to stay there.

you kiss him, getting drunk at the feeling of just letting yourself feel him, smell him, touch him after so long. you can barely think of caring about the risk of potentially getting caught and ruining this day that was meant to be special when he starts moving his hips desperately on you. you feel his trimmed body hair tickling your hardened clit in a way that makes you pant and the corners of your eyes sting. it's too much. he's too much.

and you love it.

it's the way his strange, yet familiar grip could bruise you with way more ease, and it probably will. the way you let your tongues meet sloppily as you both pant. the way his brown eyes stare at you, nearly black with how much he's probably dreamed of having you again.

you gasp as he pulls out to turn you around and put you on your feet, pulling your hips back while pushing your dress up and entering you from behind, making you fall forward in a way that makes a considerable noise on the old door.

you bite your lip hard not to make any noise, feeling baekhyun's chest on your back, his hands wrapping around you to keep you up as he picks up his pace in deep, precise thrusts.

"god, angel... you walls are... fuckin—" he grunted, "throbbin' around me... so fucking good." he panted onto your neck, kissing your skin that gradually dampened from your exertion.

you could barely keep your eyes open trying to look behind your shoulder, but felt him pushing your shoulder blades forward making your ass stick up unto his cock, which entered you in a hard slapping sound.

"f-faster... baekhyun..." you hummed, your forehead onto the door as your arms struggled to keep from banging on it from his roughness.

"yeah...? you want it faster, doll? want my cock pumping onto you the way you love...? take it." baekhyun hissed, pushing your hips back to meet another deep thrust that initiated a new, relentless pace.

your mind blanked at this point, your wrist completely over your mouth as you tried to endure your utter need to scream in pleasure. you even felt him lift you again, not giving you any choice but to let gravity pull your dripping puss onto his cock, as both his arms locked your legs up in a standing position.

you were out of it. you didn't know he had such strength, but it made you crave more of that side of him.

his grunts kept you anchored as he praised you infinitely amidst the wet claps of him into you, claiming you his once again.

"I'm... fuck! I'm coming—!" baekhyun stuttered, bringing you over the edge for the second as he bit your shoulder roughly, effectively bruising your skin while you saw black spots, panting while he slowed his pace.

you could feel his warmth spilling back into his length, but you barely registered what happened and the way he grabbed a random toilet paper roll from one of the storage's shelves to clean both of you.

breathing deeply, baekhyun turned to you again, raising your chin, and consequently your glassy eyes, to face him. "you're perfect."

automatically, a weak grin appeared on your face as you mouthed your affection to him, letting him straighten your summer dress that, luckily, had sleeves and could cover the lovebite on your shoulder.

you smiled solemly, knowing it was probably the end of your physical, if not in general, interactions for the day. your hands caressed both of his cheeks in thought.

you'd do anything for him.

you'd wait as long as you needed to have him in your arms again.

your thoughts only dispersed at the sound of baekhyun's weak chuckle. "what's on your mind, hm?"

maybe the fact that you tried your hardest not to tear up in front of him, especially after sex. it was kind of a big deal to you, and he knew that, so accordingly, he hugged you closer, pushing your head onto his chest.

"I just miss you like crazy," you hum. silently tearing up as he caressed your back.

he didn't even have his usual cologne scent, just his natural musk, and somehow that affected you even more.

maybe this little encounter worsened the ache you felt from missing him.

"I miss you too, my angel," baekhyun kissed the top of your head, and you had an idea that he was probably feeling the same.

he always tried to be the strongest one on your relationship, as if to 'shield you'. you usually felt like you didn't need it, but today, you didn't mind the warmth in his arms.

there was only this.

"you ready? I'm probably needed out there again," he smiled sadly, squeezing your hand gently.

you didn't want to linger too much because you knew that he needed you to be strong for him, too. so you nodded, quietly following him into the hallway as your tears traveled. accepting ones, this time.

it was easier to help explain to the cadet why baekhyun vanished with his girlfriend when the younger guy saw you crying.

"I just... really needed a quiet spot. I'm so sorry I dragged baekhyun into it. please don't tell the general." you whispered, making baekhyun open his mouth to speak, but the young cadet had already softened his gaze in understanding, silencing your boyfriend.

"I know just how it feels like, don't worry. my girlfriend was very shaken too." he nodded, facing baekhyun with a salute, which made him smile weirdly in a chuckle. at least he wasn't in trouble.

he took you towards the entrance gate, still patting your lower back as you faced each other again.

"we'll have other times like this. more than you know, okay? I'll make sure." baekhyun spoke, cupping your cheeks before pecking your forehead.

"I know." your voice breathless as you sniffled, grinning with your eyes closed.

suddenly, an older, stern looking guy that was probably his general, appeared. he had a pronounced jaw, his uniform with different details.

"sargeant byun, there you are. your break is over by five minutes, come at once and I'll spare you a punishment. now." his voice deep with authority reflected his stance and sharp gaze.

"yes, sir." baekhyun straightened up before you could say anything else.

the general nodded to you in a silent request for you to leave as he turned to walk back into the base.

baekhyun smiled sadly one last time, mouthing 'I love you'.

.

in a cold night, baekhyun reorganized everything. the clock marked 4 am, yet he felt anything but tired. as he had a clear view of his bed on the barrack, the only thing left to pack was the picture frame he had of you two on your first day as an official couple, on the amusement park, where you cried because of his corny speech on the ferris wheel cabin.

he didn't even practice it, so he stuttered at least five times while looking at your welled up eyes, and even then, he was perfect in your eyes.

he got to your apartment in silence, it must have been 6 am when he signed all the papers of his discharge. you looked so cute, sleeping on the couch waiting for him. baekhyun made you promise to rest and not try and wake up to pick him up, yet he knew you had probably tried to wait up.

his hand gently caressed your cheek, prompting you to hum softly while asleep, then slowly picked you up making as little sound as possible, but since you were a heavy sleeper, it didn't even stir you. it just made your arms cling to him and your lips mutter his name, which made him grin in a tired fondness, like his body finally recognized it returned to the place of his peace.

baekhyun lovingly placed you on onto your bed, removing his boots, jacket and cap, pushing his now grown hair back before crawling next to you, finally stirring you, who woke up in wide, puffy eyes.

"baekhyun...?" you murmured with your sleepy, husky voice that he loved.

he smiled, pushing a strand off of your face before pecking your lips.

"I'm home."

it’s the way you tighten around him, the way your breath stutters in his ear, the way your nails sink into his back like you’re trying to mark him up, brand him, ruin him. he loses himself so fucking quickly, he doesn’t even realize he’s already fucking into you like he’s starved, like he needs you more than he needs air.

his moans are breathless, broken, completely wrecked—he sounds more desperate than he should, given that he’s the one in control. but is he really? when he’s like this? when his hips snap forward with reckless abandon, when he’s trembling, when his lips are everywhere, panting praises and curses against your skin like he’s praying?

his voice is shaky, already high-pitched, already pleading.

“f-fuck, baby, i can’t—” his breath hitches as he buries himself deep, forehead pressing against yours. “fuck, i can’t stop, y'feel too good, y'feel so fuckin' good, please—”

please? like he’s the one begging? like he’s the one at your mercy?

he doesn’t even realize how insane his stamina is. doesn’t think about how most men would’ve been tapping out by now, whining about needing a break. but baekhyun? oh, he doesn’t stop. he can’t stop. not even when his body is twitching, not even when his muscles are screaming at him.

not even when he’s already cum once. twice. thrice.

he lets out a choked sob when he spills inside you for the first time, hips stuttering, body shuddering from the force of it. but instead of slowing down—instead of doing the sane thing—he just keeps going, cock still throbbing, overstimulated to hell but refusing to leave your warmth.

his jaw is slack, moans turning into whimpers as he thrusts through the sensitivity, eyes squeezed shut like he’s suffering from how good it feels.

you gasp, feeling him still rock into you, still desperate, still needing. “b-baek, you— you already—”

his hand clamps around your throat before you can finish, not squeezing, just resting there, keeping you exactly where he wants you. his eyes crack open, dark and insatiable.

“ya think i care?” he breathes, voice hoarse. “fuck, baby, i’m not— ’m not stopping ‘til you’re fucking full. ‘til you can’t take anymore. ‘til i can’t move.”

your head spins. his body is trembling, jaw slack, breath coming in ragged gasps as he pushes through the pleasure—too much, too good, too overwhelming, but he doesn’t fucking care. he likes the way it burns, likes the way his overstimulated cock throbs inside you, likes the way his mind goes blank except for the feeling of you wrapped around him, taking everything he gives.

he moves faster. harder. rougher. his hand slips down to press against your lower belly, groaning loud when he feels himself inside you, feels the way he’s filling you.

“ya feel that, baby?” he gasps. “feel how deep i am? fuck, you’re gonna look so pretty when you’re full of me. so fuckin' pretty, aren't cha?”

he’s already close again, doesn’t even care if he’s supposed to last longer. what does it matter? he’ll just keep going until he physically can’t.

“gimme one more, pretty,” he begs, voice cracking on the plea. “just one more, baby, please—fuck, i need it, need to feel you cum around me again, please, i—i fucking can’t—”

his words cut off with a sob when you tighten around him, dragging him under, pulling him apart. his body seizes up, mouth falling open, a wrecked moan punching out of his chest as he cums again—shaking, ruined, unraveling completely inside you.

but even then, even as his body trembles, even as his cock throbs, still pulsing, still spilling inside you, he doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow. doesn’t even think about pulling out.

he shudders against you, forehead pressing to yours, breath hot and broken. still rocking his hips, still sinking deeper, still clinging to you like you’re the only thing tethering him to reality.

“one more, baby,” he whispers against your skin, voice so desperate, so utterly pathetic. “j-just… one more.”

A FUCKING LIE.

because one more doesn’t exist with baekhyun. one more would mean stopping. means catching his fucking breath. means giving his body time to recover, to ease out of the mind numbing, all consuming need for you.

but baekhyun doesn’t do stopping. doesn’t do restraint. doesn’t fucking know how to stop—doesn't fucking know to act—when it comes to you.

not when you’re still wrapped around him like this. not when you’re still warm and wet and so, so fucking perfect. not when he can still feel the way your perfect gummy, needy walls throb around him, overstimulated, aching, but still taking it—still loving it.

not when he’s still hard. still needy. still so fucking obsessed.

you barely have time to catch your breath before he’s on you again, mouth on your shoulder, lips pressing frantic, open-mouthed kisses to sweat-damp skin. he’s still inside you—still—cock twitching, still throbbing, still needing. his arms tighten around your waist like you’ll slip away if he lets up for even a second.

you shudder. overstimulated, sore, shaking from the way he’s already rolling his hips again, slow, lazy, but deep. your whole body jerks with every movement, the aftershocks of your last orgasm still crackling through your nerves like static. you’re so sensitive it hurts but fuck, it’s a good kind of hurt. the kind you never want to end.

your fingers tangle in his damp hair, tugging weakly. “b-baek, s'too much, baby. hah—i c-can't!”

he whimpers. actually whimpers. buries his face in the crook of your neck and groans so pitifully it makes you clench around him just from how fucking pathetic he sounds.

“yes, you can,” he pleads, voice wrecked, completely ruined. “baby, please. please, don’t make me stop, i can’t fucking s-stop—”

his body trembles. he sounds broken. like stopping would kill him, like it would physically hurt him more than his overstimulated cock already does, still hard, still buried inside you.

he moves again, pressing deeper, grinding against that spot that makes your vision blur, that makes your nails dig into his back, that makes you gasp because holy fuck, you can’t stop either.

you don’t want to stop either.

you tilt your head back, lips parted, moaning so pretty for him, letting him hear just how fucking gone you are. he loses it. groans your name like a prayer, a plea, a curse, hands grabbing at you like he’s trying to memorize your body with his fingers.

“oh my god, i love you,” he gasps against your skin, his breath hot and unsteady, his voice breaking like he’s about to cry. “i love you, i love you, i fucking love you—”

he’s not even fucking you at this point. just rutting into you, slow and deep, like he wants to crawl inside you, live inside you, make himself a part of you forever. he grips your face, forces you to look at him, his eyes blown wide and glossy, pupils swallowing every ounce of sanity he had left.

“you’re mine, pretty,” he whispers, voice shaking. his hips roll forward, slow, intentional, and you feel him everywhere. “mine. mine, my pretty baby, please, say it. please say it.”

your body aches. your nerves are fried. your mind is so blank, so foggy, so fucking completely consumed by him, by the way he’s looking at you, by the way he’s begging for you—like he needs this just as much as you do.

your fingers slide up to cup his cheeks, and you feel dampness there—tears. he’s crying.

and fuck, you love him. you love him so much it aches, so much it drowns you, so much it feels like there’s no end to it, no bottom to this fall. you didn’t think it was possible to love him more than you already did—but right now? right now, you swear you’re sinking deeper, past the point of return, past the point of ever wanting to be free.

you let out a shaky breath, pressing your forehead against his, whispering against his lips. “yours.”

“say it again,” he begs. “again, baby, again, please, i needa—”

“yours, baekhyun. ah, f-fuck!—yours. always. forever.”

he lets out the most pathetic whimper you’ve ever heard and breaks.

his hands slip under your thighs, dragging you impossibly close, pulling your legs around his waist. and then he moves—slow and deep and so fucking needy, so fucking desperate, rocking into you like he’s got nowhere else to be, like this moment is all that exists, like this is the only thing that matters.

your entire body burns. your skin, your muscles, your heart. the overstimulation makes your nerves spark, the pleasure tangled with something sharp, something aching, something too much and not enough at the same time.

and fuck, he smells so good.

his sweat, warm and heady, clings to his skin, mixing with the lingering traces of his cologne—dark, expensive, dangerous. the deep musk of it blends with the sinful scent of sex, thick and intoxicating, flooding your senses, making your head spin. every inhale is him, all-consuming, dizzying, addictive.

his forehead presses to yours, damp strands of hair sticking to his temples, and you swear you could drown in the heat of him, in the scent of him, in the weight of him pressing you down, holding you here, refusing to let you slip away.

he inhales sharply, breath shuddering, like he’s just as drunk on you as you are on him.

his lips brush against yours, barely a kiss, more of a claim. his voice is nothing more than a whisper, raw and ruined:

“how long d’ya think ya need 'til we can go again, pretty?”

"welcome to 'style n elan', how can i help you with?"

you sighed, learning that the costumer that came in on your turn requested baekhyun instead.

baekhyun. your nasty, annoying, completely insufferable coworker.

you still remember the first time you walked into this retail store. his handsome smile when you entered, hands cheerfully behind his back, eyes soft and attentive. a lie, you’d soon learn. you remember how much his face fell when you asked for his manager after spotting the sign for the vacant spot just outside the door, his grin morphing into a crooked, faux smirk, as if straining to keep up the act of sympathy when he called his manager over.

the store had simple, casual streetwear clothing. you knew your way around, and getting through the interview with the manager was easy enough, even if you felt the weight of a pair of eyes burning into your back. glancing over your shoulder, you waved shyly at baekhyun, expecting his usual gentle grin, but instead, you got an inquisitive glare.

but oh, that was just the beginning.

now, you knew how it worked. how he worked. his personality was carefully curated, crafted to be as friendly as possible to sell as much as he could. a salesman’s gimmick, one he’d probably trained to perfection. you honestly didn’t care about who sold more, or who’d make more by the end of the month. but for baekhyun, it seemed to be everything.

dealing with his jabs never got easier. his unserious, irritating, childish remarks still managed to get under your skin. just yours and no other employees. it almost made you want to actually compete with him. to sell more by the end of the month and finally see that smug grin fade from his handsome face.

so when you did, baekhyun got worse. he started advertising for the store online. fishing for costumers outside the store. sometimes, he was even stealing yours when you were busy on the back, rearranging the stock. you knew you had to do something, so when you confronted the manager about it, the only idea they had was to establish taking turns per order of arrival.

since you were used to waking up earlier, it was easier to balance the annoying, cheating-like efforts of your rival coworker with your own diligence.

you thought you had him beat.

but baekhyun? oh, he wasn’t having it. and that’s when the first bet started.

it began as a casual comment, like most things did with him.

"i bet you can’t sell more than me this month," baekhyun had said with a grin, the usual cocky glint in his eyes.

you rolled your eyes, but something in the challenge stung. even your quiet patience had its limits. and after yet another tense exchange with him, you made a mistake.

he was at it again, teasing you, claiming that even if your numbers were close, you’d never be able to surpass again at his own bet, ignoring the previous month like it'd never existed.

"i'm so sure i'd win, i could even bet a kiss from you that you're not getting more sales than i am." he boasted, watching your face get more and more sour.

in a reckless move, you broke. "fine. it's on." you grunted, staring straight into his brown orbs, suprising him for a moment. "i bet a kiss that i can sell more than you by the end of the the month."

baekhyun paused, his eyes widening for a moment before darkening.

"oh? you wanna kiss me, love?" he grinned, mischevious, interested. "good luck then. i won't sabotage you any longer. i don't need to do that." his voice sang when walking away, making you question yourself.

it's not like he didn't look kissable. he did. very much. you shook on it, feeling a small rush of adrenaline. the pressure made you work even harder after that. you could do it, even if you weren't the best communicator, you knew how to sell your shit.

until you realized baekhyun was getting seriously competitive. he pulled every trick in the book to outdo you, even if he said he wouldn't, flooding the store with new costumers, getting his social media posts shared by influencers, and even charming the regulars into buying more.

it was the last workday of the month, the last hour of your shift, and instead of being excited that it was friday, the both of you were desperately scrambling to meet your targets, both running around the store, throwing clothes at customers, hoping to land the last few sales.

you reach the digital register at the same time, both of you in a race to close your last transaction.

the numbers wouldn't lie. they were on your side, they had to be.

"five thousand, eight hundred and eight four dollars..." you murmured, chuckling breathlessly. it was your record ever since you started working on 'style and elan'.

yet the register didn't stop counting for baekhyun, not until it reached at a whopping number.

"six thousand, one hundred and fifty nine dollars." he smiled impressed. "i win," baekhyun said, looking at the screen. his grin was wide, almost taunting. "i guess you better get ready for that kiss." he bragged, leaving you rooted to the ground.

you couldn't answer him, still focused on the disparity of the numbers. for someone who didn't have as much ease with dealing with people, you did great. it wasn't the end of the world, just a small peck and then you'd go home to enjoy your baekhyunless weekend, happy that your check would be bigger than average next week.

maybe you could even sneak out and not do your part of the bet? he would probably be boasting around to the other employees anyway. they all loved him. he got the biggest check. good for him.

but as the store emptied with customers trickling out, you reached the backdoor just a second too late, about to end your shift, when baekhyun’s hand grabbed your arm before you could.

"i fear you won't be able to leave," he teased, stepping a little too close. "you have to pay up, love." you could feel his breath on your face, the heat radiating between you both. suddenly, there’s no space.

"fine," you mutter with gritted teeth, avoiding his eyes, already regretting the bet. you breathed in for a moment, throwing daggers at his charming face before closing your eyes.

you slowly crossed the small distance, pressing your lips to his innocently. his lips were warm, soft, almost a little sweet from most likely the snacks he'd always be eating. your stomach felt a little fuzzy before you pulled away, opening your eyes wide in embarrassment.

baekhyun was staring at you with a frown, evaluating you for a second before whispering huskily. "that wasn't a kiss." unsatisfied.

it made you annoyed, your fluster giving way to anger when you didn't give him a chance to continue nagging, pulling him again. "shut up." you growled, crashing into his mouth.

he hummed when your lips moved this time, his hands finding your waist when he tilted his head to follow your angry movements. your fury dissipated quickly when he licked your lip, coaxing your tongue out to lock with his. you felt dizzy, your hands roaming up his arms while he shared the remnants of the taste his strawberry gum with you, only parting after your breaths were ragged.

you looked at him, his flushed cheeks matching his dilated pupils. "there's your end of the bet." you said, grabbing your bag, ready to leave.

the next week felt different, and baekhyun's teasing felt... absent, in a way, but it wasn't like he was ignoring you. he was surprisingly warmer, his jabs landing softer, almost like he was recognizing your efforts to beating him, even after he had won the bet.

one afternoon, you were folding clothes in your section, trying to focus, but the noise of the store’s hustle made it difficult. the manager was out for three weeks leaving you and baekhyun, his best employees, in charge.

as you were folding a t-shirt, you caught baekhyun in the corner of your eye, walking by with a customer. normally, you’d expect some kind of remark, maybe a joke about how well he’s selling or a comment about how you’re just 'standing around' but today, it was different.

this time, when baekhyun passed by, his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than usual. not enough to be obvious, but enough that you feel the weight of it. he didn't stop, didn’t say anything. just a look. a soft, almost imperceptible nod of approval.

it’s almost like he was giving you space to work without any critique. you paused for a moment, unsure of how to interpret it, but when you looked up, he was already gone. his footsteps faded into the store, leaving a strange kind of silence in his wake.

the next time you saw him, he was a little closer, leaning over the counter as you finished up a transaction. you were expecting him to jab at you again, maybe mention something about how slow the store is or how 'someone' still wasn't hitting their target, but instead, he complimented you.

"you’re doing well," he said, his voice lighter than usual. he glanced at your latest sale figures, and for a split second, there was no teasing in his eyes, no competitive glint. just... a soft recognition.

you glanced up, caught off guard. "what?" that felt weird, making your heart do weird movements in your chest.

baekhyun just shrugged, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "you’re keeping up. didn’t think you’d last this long." his words were casual, but there was something about them that felt different, like he was proud of you, in a strange way.

you stared at him, trying to make sense of this sudden shift. was he seriously complimenting you? baekhyun? the guy who could never resist making you fume?

"thanks," you said, trying to keep your voice leveled, even though you’re slightly thrown by how genuine it sounded.

baekhyun met your gaze for a second, his eyes a little darker than usual. then, he was back to scheming, his grin returning, though it’s not as sharp as it used to be.

"you wanna hang out on our break?" he smiled lazily, eyeing you quietly. that felt extremely odd, and also made you feel extremely odd. your mind betrayed you, making you remember the kiss that occupied your thoughts more than you wanted it to.

"why?" you asked, stopping what you were doing to see his eyes shamelessly linger at your lips. you didn't know if baekhyun was doing it on purpose or not, if he really knew what he was doing or not.

"just because." his eyes returned to yours, meaning something you'd yet to find out if you liked.

and a part of you wanted to. very much.

"okay." you murmured back.

the tension hung heavy in the air for a moment before baekhyun’s grin stretched wider. his eyes flickered between your lips and your eyes, and then, without another word, he grabed your wrist lightly, pulling you toward the break room, then to its bathroom.

the door clicked behind you, and the space suddenly felt smaller, tighter. it was almost like the world outside didn’t exist anymore. you both stood there, silently, but it wasn't awkward. it was charged.

you barely registered the moment your back pressed against the door. everything moved so fast, but it felt like it was happening in slow motion. his lips were on yours before you could even think of a response, urgent, hungry. his hands found your shoulders, pulling you closer. the kiss was rough, needy, like there was something deeper simmering beneath all the tension between you, mimicking the one you gave him for the bet, yet hotter.

you couldn’t pull away, not that you wanted to. there was a heat building between you that made your hands move on their own accord, finding his shirt and pulling him closer. he groaned against your mouth, his fingers threading through your hair, tugging you closer until you could feel the press of his body against yours.

"fuck," baekhyun murmured, lips brushing against your skin as he pulled away just enough to catch his breath. "i really like the way you kiss, love."

his hands shifted lower, around your waist, pulling your body against his with an urgency that took you by surprise. he nuzzled against your neck, his breath ragged, lips brushing your skin in a way that made your heart race.

the weight of his words, the sound of his voice, the feel of his body against yours… it all mixed together in a way that made you forget everything else. your hands instinctively slided over his chest, feeling the quick pulse of his heart beneath his shirt.

the kiss shifted, deepened, and you couldn’t tell if you were still competing with him, or if this was just something else entirely. something new.

he pulled back for a moment, eyes dark and searching. "do you wanna do this?" he asked, voice hoarse, his face stunned, almost vulnerable in a way you didn’t expect when his hand lowered between your thighs, suprising you.

you two were the only ones on break. no one would come to the break room unless an emergency ocurred.

you felt yourself nodding, the words barely leaving your mouth before your lips were on his again. there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. it was just the heat between you two and the knowledge that this strange tension, this unspoken thing that has been building for weeks, was finally breaking.

baekhyun kneeled before you, instantly unzipping your uniform pants and tugging then down, groaning at the sight of your black panties. "god. i think seeing you like this is even better than seeing you mad. shit."

you scoffed at his audacity, but were unable to reply when his face was rubbing on your clothed heat, sniffing like an addict. you moaned, feeling his lips kiss the fabric that gradually grew wetter. your right mind hated you right now — your dignity jumped out the window — but it was all worth it to see the byun baekhyun looking up while pulling you undergarments down with his teeth.

"seeing you shut up from eating me out seems better, too." you quipped, making him growl, lunging onto your heat. it made you gasp, throwing your head back in lust.

"didn't know you had such a smart mouth, pretty." he huffed, licking into your heat with ragged breaths. "and a sweet cunt. holy shit—"

you twitched, your hand finding your mouth to stop you from gasping loudly. baekhyun was good. better than you would admit. he grabbed your thigh, lifting one of your legs to his shoulder in an effort to get his tongue past your folds, licking greedily.

"fuck—can you keep quiet for me baby? i can get you off before our break ends." he huffed, slobbering desperately before adding his digits, making you arch your back on the tiles, moaning against your hand.

his long fingers tentively pushed inside your tightness, making you twitch, leaking onto his tongue. you blinked, trying to keep focus. it was harder when he pushed another one in, making you question if there was anything he wasn't good at. the mirror was in front of you, ironically cutting just above your stomach, unable to reflect him eating you out.

you jolted back when he curled both digits, teeth and tongue assaulting your swollen clit, ready to trigger your orgasm. "can you cum for me, love? i want you to cum on my face." he whispered huskily, resuming his sucking on your folds when his request was granted.

your body didn't wait for your brain, releasing like a wave on his mouth and chin, sending you shockwaves that made your eyes blurry. baekhyun peppered kisses on your cunt before stripping a final lick, then rising to his feet, smiling boyishly.

he pecked your lips into a kiss after the impulsive intimacy, amused by your stunned gaze after your high. "i like you." his voice murmured.

you blinked at him, your mind scrambling to make sense of the situation. "what?" you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you had intended. you couldn’t quite wrap your head around it. his mouth, his fingers. the way everything had escalated so quickly. you hadn’t even expected it to go there.

"relax, love. just a little break-time fun," baekhyun had said with a wink, his hands still warm on your waist. he had leaned in closer, like he was perfectly calm, and it only made you feel more flustered. "you’re a lot more fun than i thought."

his words hit you like a slap. "what?" you asked again, trying to shake off the haze in your brain. was he serious right now? baekhyun, the guy who used to act like you were some competition, had actually just kissed you and ate you out.

"what?" he mimicked you, a little smile tugging at his lips. "i just wasn’t expecting you to be such a good..." he raked you, "kisser." he said it casually, trying to sound innocent, like it was no big deal, but you were still standing there, your mind in total disarray.

"you—" you started, unsure of how to respond. "you're really saying that after that?" you couldn’t help but glance down at his crotch, the heat rising in your cheeks as you still felt buzzed from the orgasm.

baekhyun smirked, clearly enjoying your flustered state. he leaned in just enough to make you feel his breath on your lips again. "yeah, love. you’re not bad. not bad at all."

your heart had skipped, and suddenly, you felt the weight of his gaze all over again. the whole thing had been a blur, but now, standing there with him, it all felt real. you still hadn’t processed it.

your mouth opened, then closed, trying to form a response, but your brain was still trying to catch up with your body. "seriously? like, you like like me, or—?"

he looked at you for a second, almost like he was considering whether or not to tease you further. but then his smile had softened, just enough that it made you pause. "i think i said like you, in case you didn’t catch that." he stepped back slightly, his tone playful again, but his eyes held a trace of something genuine. "i think you’re a little more interesting than i gave you credit for."

you stared at him for a long second, still unable to believe what was happening. "you’re... serious, huh?" you asked, your voice still unsure. but the way he had been looking at you then was enough to convince you that, yes, he was serious.

baekhyun smirked, stepping closer again, and with a wink, had said, "don’t look at me like that. you started it, remember? i’m just continuing it."

you swallowed hard, still a little breathless. the teasing, the flirting. it had all still been there, but something had shifted. it felt like this was no longer just about winning or losing. it felt different. deeper, and even more perverted.

the days that followed, baekhyun’s eyes lingered on you longer than usual, like he was studying every little detail. there were moments when you’d catch him watching you from across the room, a strange glint in his gaze that made your pulse quicken. it wasn’t the usual teasing or competitive spark anymore. this was something else.

at first, you tried to preted that your mind was playing tricks on you. maybe you were still rattled from what had happened in the break room bathroom, and now every look from him felt loaded. but no. you weren’t imagining it. he really was looking at you differently.

it wasn’t the kind of gaze that made you uncomfortable. no, it was the kind that made your gut twist with something unsettlingly good. something that made your skin feel a little too tight, your thoughts a little too scattered, your center a little too needy. it was as if he was looking straight through you now, like he could see past the walls you’d spent so long building.

and damn, it drove you wild.

you two started a new routine of hooking up, and each time baekhyun introduced you to something new, you kinda wanted to incorporate it into your mutual competitiveness. it started with playful bets about orgasmed first, eventually progressing when he brought something new into play.

you had barely gotten used to the new dynamic between you two when this afternoon, just as you were wrapping up with a customer, baekhyun appeared at your side, pulling you out of view in an empty aisle. he didn’t say anything at first. just stood there, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body, but not quite close enough to touch. you could feel the weight of his presence beside you, like the air had thickened with something unspoken.

"what?" you glanced up, catching him eyeing you again. this time, it was more intense. more predatory and devilish. his gaze swept over you slowly, deliberately, like he was trying to read your every move. it sent a shiver down your spine.

finally, he spoke. his voice was lower than usual, almost teasing, but with a hint of something daring. "you know, i’m starting to think you’re into everything i do to you."

you blinked at him, confused, but your heart was already racing, your thighs shutting together. baekhyun’s smile was more knowing than playful, like he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"what are you talking about?" you asked, trying to keep your voice harsh, but it was hard to ignore the way your body responded to his closeness.

"before we started hooking up, i thought you were just a goody two shoes trying to take my spot," he said, leaning in a little, his breath warm against your ear. "and now... well, i think i want to see just how far that goes."

you swallowed hard, not entirely sure what he meant, but knowing damn well it was about to get a lot more complicated.

baekhyun pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, and for a second, he let the silence hang between you two. the tension was thick, crackling in the air like static.

then, he rose his hand to your face and opened its palm, revealing a pink, dildo, paired with a controller. you eyes widened, your hand closing on top of his with an intense blush on your cheeks, making him giggle from your whisper-shout "are you crazy?!"

"let’s make a new bet, yeah?" he said with a smirk, the glint in his eye a challenge, but a challenge with a much more personal edge to it. "i thought this would be something that could interest you."

you raised an eyebrow, opening and closing your mouth, feeling a rush of nervous excitement at the way he was looking at you now. "w-why the fuck would that even interest me, baekhyun?!" you hissed, trying to keep your composure around another employee who stood a bit far from you two.

he stepped closer, his hand brushing against your hip in a casual, almost accidental way, but you knew better. everything about him was calculated, controlled. and now, it seemed, he was deliberately breaking down your defenses.

"how about this: the one who wears this while successfully striking a sale, wins." he murmured, his gaze flicking to your lips for just a moment then met your eyes again. you mouth already opened to protest before you paused.

baekhyun wanted both of you to wear a plug while on shift?

his eyebrows raised, waiting for your answer. "w-what do you mean? you're saying you'd—wear this while speaking to our costumers?"

baekhyun merelly shrugged, looking at the object in his hand again. "who cares? if it's for fun and for pleasure, why would i be afraid of trying something new?" he spoke, then smiled on your ear again "besides, i have been able to hide a hard-on for a whole shift from thinking about you. and i bet you haven't ever noticed."

you froze. that's why he was eyeing you so much. it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it, hell, your body still hummed with the memory of his touch. but hearing him say it out loud, so matter-of-factly, made everything feel even more real.

you opened your mouth again, but no words came out at first. this was a whole new level of game. a whole new type of bet. your pulse was hammering in your ears.

"and what—what does the winner get?" you finally asked, even though you knew the prize was going to be even more devious. you could feel it, a mix of curiosity and desire curling in your stomach.

"the winner?" baekhyun leaned in even closer, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, "the winner gets to use the loser at monday, when we'll be the only ones on the night shift because of the low activity. nothing shall be off-limits."

his words were a slow, intoxicating promise, and you felt the weight of them settle deep within you. this wasn’t just about proving who could sell more or who could tease the other more effectively. no, this was something different. something far more perverted.

use. there could have so many different meanings to such word. you tried to picture how you'd even be able to use baekhyun, should you win. would it even be that much fun for him, letting your shy self have that much control in a semi-public setting?

then came the thought of him using you. that made your hair stand on your whole form, your center dampening. you bit your lower lip since baekhyun was the dirtiest guy you got to know, and you didn't even know how far he'd go with such power over your body.

"what do you say?" baekhyun asked, pulling back to look at your eyes again, his eyes sparkling with both challenge and something darker.

and damn it if you didn't want to participate.

you swallowed again, your thoughts racing. you could feel your pulse pounding in your throat. every instinct told you to back off, to walk away, to keep things low-risk as they already were. but something deeper in you, something you hadn’t let yourself acknowledge, was eager to take the bait. eager to see where this would lead.

you met his gaze, the tension between you two almost palpable now.

"you’re on," you said, your voice low and steady despite the storm of nerves and excitement inside you.

baekhyun’s smirk widened as he reached out to trace the line of your jaw with his finger, just barely brushing against your skin. "good. you better hope you win, then," he murmured, his voice thick with something much more than flirtation.

you could feel the game shift. and now, it was so much more than just a bet. and a part of you didn't want to win at all.

at monday night, while you were lost in your thoughts from the slow movement, baekhyun had disappeared into the back for a moment, and when he returned, you couldn’t help but glance at him. there was a certain calmness to the way he walked, as if the looming challenge hadn’t fazed him in the slightest. but then, there was the glint in his eyes along the almost unnoticeable way he adjusted his posture. you guessed that he was already wearing the plug under his clothes.

it baffled you how casual he looked.

he sidled up next to you, leaning in with a playful grin. "you ready for this? let's do five sales each." he grinned, his tone deliberately teasing. you were still trying to figure out exactly how to play now that the tables had turned, but you didn’t let him see your confusion when he handed you the controller.

the pink controller had four settings. it looked simple, and the hint of power made you more interested than you would’ve admitted.

he set to work immediately, putting on his salesman charm, but as soon as he approached his first customer you pressed the first setting. the slightest shift in his body told you everything. you knew he was feeling it.

he paused for a second, running his hand through his hair, giving you a sidelong glance. for the customer, it looked like he was only gathering his thoughts, but knowing the true cause was enough to make your lips twitch into a smirk. baekhyun, the ever-confident one, was struggling, and it was honestly a little satisfying.

the plug buzzed in a way that was clearly affecting his concentration. you could see the subtle shift in his demeanor, his body stiffening slightly whenever you pressed the second setting. his hands lingered on a clothing item for just a moment too long as the vibrations ran through him, his smile not quite as steady as usual. you could tell he was trying to mask it, but it was obvious he wasn’t as in control as he liked to be.

he looked back at you again, his expression faltering for just a second. his jaw looked clenched, his smile strained while his cheeks blushed. you smiled to yourself, a sense of victory swirling within you. this was a whole new side of baekhyun. vulnerable, just a little off-balance, completely in your control.

the next few minutes were a mix of stolen glances, awkward adjustments of his pants, and constant sales pitches from both of you. baekhyun’s focus was shifting, no longer as sharp as it once was, while you couldn’t help but watch with a mix of amusement and perversion.

he approached his third customer, his usual smooth talk stammering just slightly as he tried to keep his cool when you pressed the third setting. the plug hummed again in his prostate, and this time, you saw him visibly wince. it was impossible not to laugh a little. this was the first time you’d seen baekhyun so off-guard, and it was honestly kind of adorable.

but you could tell he was struggling. his posture was starting to slacken a little more, the usually confident and sharp look in his eyes fading as the massager continued to do its work. he was visibly distracted, and it was clear that while he was still selling, it was no longer the clean, calculated charm he usually had. he took longer to speak, a slight choked tone whenever he tried to pitch another clothing article.

in the end, you swallowed your curiosity and pressed the fourth intensity setting, and by the second, baekhyun seemed to grow restless. his hands shook slightly as he fumbled with a customer’s clothes, his usual smooth grin faded into a more tense, focused expression. his cheeks were completely flushed as he sucked in a breath in front of the elder woman. he tried to swallow, clearing his throat as his white fist clenched around a hanger.

but by coughing repeatedly and maintaining his trembling smile, he followed through into finishing his fifth sale. the woman fawned over his blushing cheeks, essentially pinching him before leaving the store with her bag, making your jaw drop. he actually did it.

baekhyun strided to you, his strained smile fading with his jaw clenched when he huffed, rudely snatching the controller from your hand, his bulge now visible. "it's your fucking turn."

you swallowed, seeing him hand you another toy, a pink dildo. raising your chin confidently, you grabbed the vibrator and went to the bathroom. you pulled down you pants and panties, exhaling when you pushed it past your folds, biting your lip when you pulled your clothes back up. it didn't feel that bad. you could do this.

baekhyun’s brown eyes met yours when you went back to the front of the store. you made a beeline to a customer who was browsing something in the male section before your breathing hitched, feeling the buzz from the hidden dildo nestled discreetly within your heat.

you glared at baekhyun, then greeted the costumer with a smile, trying to put on your best sales pitch while the sensation intensified. so that's how he felt like.

it was a struggle to keep your composure, since each movement of your feet made the vibration hit just the right spot, sending waves of heat rushing through you. your body betrayed you, your mind fighting to stay calm, as you listened to the customer with a practiced friendly smile plastered on your face. you couldn’t let it show. you couldn’t let baekhyun know that his little challenge was getting under your skin. not when you knew you could win.

you caught him out of the corner of your eye, leaning against the wall near the register, watching with a knowing smirk. his eyes were trained on you, like a hawk, waiting for you to crack. you could see that he was enjoying the challenge just as much as you were earlier. you frowned at him, seeing him raise his browns innocently, shrugging even if the pink controller was on his hand.

the dildo pulsated again in your cunt, sending a wave of slick onto your panties, making you nearly stumble mid-sentence. you caught yourself, steadying your breath as you continued helping the customer. you tried to focus on their needs, trying to ignore the growing buzz under your clothes, the wetness between your legs, and the thought of baekhyun’s eyes on you.

you managed to land two sales, barely holding it together as you completed the transactions. the second customer left, and you breathed a sigh of relief. but just as you were about to turn around, there was that feeling again. the dildo suddenly intensified, reminding you that baekhyun was controlling it. it was enough to make your knees weak, and you had to grab onto the nearest display rack to steady yourself.

before you could recover, he stepped in front of you, leaning casually against the rack with that ever-present smirk. his voice was low and mocking. "looks like you’re struggling, love. thought that by your earlier teasing you'd be used to a little vibration. it's barely the third intensity."

you glared at him, but it was hard to muster up any real anger when your pussy was still buzzing from the feeling. from his knowledge and control. "shut up," you muttered, though the words were weak, and your voice betrayed you with the slightest hitch. you couldn’t help it. you were too frustratingly horny.

"didn’t expect this to get to you," he continued, his gaze flickering downward for just a moment before meeting your eyes again. "looks like i’ve got the upper hand." his voice was almost smug now, the challenge between you two taking on a different tone. "how’s it feel, knowing you’re not in control anymore?"

you gritted your teeth, willing the feeling to subside, but it didn’t. if anything, the dildo seemed to be teasing you more with each passing second. "i-i can still win this," you snapped, though the edge in your voice was much weaker than you’d like it to be.

baekhyun chuckled, stepping even closer. "we’ll see, won’t we? let’s see if you can close the next sale without needing an orgasm." he paused, "yet now that i'm thinking about it, it's just as hard for me to see you like that and not be able to make you cum." he whispered in your ear.

you were stunned for a second, being forced to regain you poker face through your blush when he left you alone, and the next costumer arrived.

the minutes dragged on, and the competition heated up. you found yourself locked in a battle with baekhyun, trying to outdo his control, battling the constant buzz within your cunt. it was maddening, the way the device kept pushing you close to the edge, yet not quite getting there. but you were determined to keep your composure.

you made a sale, he lowered the intensity. you got a customer’s approval, then he amped it back. it was neck-and-neck, and you could feel the tension building between you two.

but then, just as you felt like you were about land the fifth sale, you felt it. the one that put you this close over the edge. you rang up the last item, breathing heavily as you attempted to finish the transaction with a trembling grin. you gasped, almost letting a choked moan out. that had to be the fourth intensity, vibrating violently into your g-spot, making your legs buckle. there was no hiding from the woman in front of you.

"miss? are you okay?" she asked, worried. you tried to breathe in, feeling the corner of your eyes sting when you closed them.

before you could reply or even hear him approaching, baekhyun held you up with a gentle expression. "i'm sorry. she's not feeling her best today. i will finish the sale." he looked between you and the costumer before him, then finally turned off the toy. "sit by the register, okay?"

you covered your face in a mix of shame and fluster, unable to watch him cover up your near disastrous outcome. then, when the woman finally left, baekhyun looked at you again with a scary glint.

"i win." was all he said, raking your state with dark eyes.

you didn't have time to react when baekhyun kissed you then and there, pulling you by your arm and placing the 'be right back!' sign over the counter. he stormed past the break room door, not letting you breathe. your cheeks flushed even more, the feeling in your heat getting progressively worse.

"baekhy—" he swallowed your cry, making you jolt when his hands slipped past your waistband. you looked up at the ceiling, feeling him lower his kisses to your neck, pulling the hem of your shirt just above your chest to fondle your clothed breasts.

"don't speak. don't even think." baekhyun huffed, looking at you with a heated expression. "i own you now, love." his voice rasped huskily, hands wandering your body.

his other hand grabbed the pink controller, turning back on the dildo inside of you. you fell forward on his chest, already tearing up from the overstimulation. he shushed you, pecking your face repeatedly while sitting you down on a chair. he kneeled, taking off your uniform pants and your panties in one go, squeezing your thighs, then spreading them apart.

"god. you're so fucking broken, aren't you?" he breathed onto your pussy, seeing you tremble both from the dildo and his proximity. "i even brought more toys to test on you, but you're already like this. let me ease your ache."

his tongue on your clit made you cry out, looking up in search of something to anchor you back into the present. the light above blurred with each lick of his on your vibrating folds, your looming high finally within your grasp. you hadn't noticed earlier just how much your body needed to release.

you tugged his hair, arching from the chair into his face as you called out his name, relief finally finding you from the currents of his earlier torture. the buzzing from the pink bullet made you gush on his mouth, squirting violently with a loud cry before falling back when he turned it off again.

baekhyun peppered kisses on your throbbing cunt, murmuring gently. "hm, that's a shame. i suppose you won't be able to pay up today." he tilted his head, pouting mockingly as you lit up instantly, sitting straight to nod your head.

"n-no, i can—" you blurted, still trembling softly, making him smile. your breathing was still ragged, but your mind decided it already. you wanted him, regardless of what position he put you in. it made you feel reckless, impulsive, and hot all over.

"are you sure? i think you've had enough, love." he traced your slick inner thighs, watching you shiver and shake your head. you didn't care how desperate you looked, how slutted out he'd made you. which scared you.

"please, baekhyun. i w-wanna pay up now." you whimpered, then nodded to his ignored cock that remained bulging in his pants for quite some time already. that made him chuckle.

"fuck. how can i say no to those pretty, slutty eyes?" he tilted his head, then stood up to reach for his backpack in the corner of the break room, grabbing from a plastic bag two more items.

a purple, silicone plug and a bottle of lube.

"i have an idea for your payment, love." he stepped closer to you, breathing ragged. your own breath hitched when he kneeled before your chair and pushed your knees to your chest, widening your stunned eyes while he coated his fingers in lube.

"do you trust me?" he asked, spreading your asscheeks to view both your entrances. you flushed, but nodded surprisingly fast, making him smile.

"yes, baekhyun." you murmured, eyes blown out, completely out of it.

you gasped, the cold slick on his fingers slowly being pressed into your rim. the feeling was unknown, strange, and incredibly sensual. baekhyun's voice guided you into breathing while pressing a second digit, slowly stretching you in a scissoring motion before inserting the plug. the new intrusion paired with the dildo still lodged inside made you feel restless, your lower body tingling in the wake of a new desire.

"there. it's in." he hummed, kneading your ass and extending his hand. his eyes were uncharacteristically gentle. "do you think you can stand?"

the plug felt like every movement was restricted, the object rubbing on your walls along the other, reflecting through your wobbly legs. you grabbed his shoulders to try and stand triggering his lustful chuckle, guiding you to the front of the store with unusual calmness.

"baekhyun? w-what are you—!" you stumbled after him, still trembling from the pressure of two vibrators within you. before you could recover, you noticed a customer not that far. an elderly man, probably in his late sixties, standing with his back to you two. panic surged through you, and without thinking, you dropped to the floor, just next to baekhyun’s feet behind the counter, heart pounding in your chest. you hid yourself under its surface, trying to stay as still as possible, biting down hard to keep any sounds from escaping.

you dared a quick glance up towards baekhyun. his eyes flicked down to you for just a second, and there it was again, that glint of darkness, a knowing look tugging at the pupils of his eyes. but then he turned to the elderly man, shifting into his usual charming persona.

"sorry for my absence," baekhyun said smoothly, his voice calm and effortless as if everything was perfectly normal. "had to solve some stock issues. we’re closing soon, so i can’t really help you browse. is there anything else i can do for you from the counter?"

the elderly man nodded, his face calm. he adjusted his glasses and placed a few items onto the counter above your head with a soft grunt, a small stack of clothes. "actually, there’s a few other things i’d also like to buy," he said, his voice slow but pleasant. "could you help me with pricing these? i’d appreciate it."

that's when you noticed baekhyun's bulge in his pants, just a few inches from your reach. your heart raced as you tried to keep from making any noises that gave you away, but the temptation of just taking it from him was too much to resist.

your hands stopped baekhyun from replying instantly, making his breath hitch when you unzipped his trousers and freed his heavy length. god, it looked glorious, especially seeing it upclose. the veiny shaft was throbbing, topped with a gather of precum on its tip, most likely from being ignored for a long time.

you could feel baekhyun’s eyes flicker back to you again, but he kept his focus on the customer, recomposing quickly. "of course," he said with a smile, stepping still to not give anything away to the man. "just hand me all of them and i'll—" he gasped from the brush of your lips on his tip, "s-sort them."

the elder man blinked, but calmly set the stack of clothes on the counter and smiled, oblivious to the tension that was building in front of him. "if you don’t mind sorting these while i pick out a few more things," he added, shuffling slowly towards the male section.

“not at all,” baekhyun replied, his voice still able to sound smooth, even though you could sense the shift in the way he spoke now. his left hand instantly found your hair, roughly pushing his cock down your throat with a quiet hiss when the man wasn't in hearing distance.

"shit. you fucking slut." he whispered, looking for the customer a few aisles back, then started fucking his hard cock into your mouth. "just can't fucking wait for me to ruin you, can you?"

you were so bewitched by him while hidden beneath the counter, that every movement he made felt like tremors through the floor under you. each thrust of his felt amplified, as if he was purposefully reminding you of just how rough he was under the surface. the air around you felt thick, charged, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay quiet with you gagging.

baekhyun huffed, releasing your head when he began to fold the clothes in front of him, his hands moving slowly, deliberately. he worked with struggled routine, occasionally glancing down at you, though he made no attempt to look directly at your pleading eyes. you bobbed your head to take what you could, using your hand to cover the rest, with the vibrators still inside you. baekhyun kept his voice as casual as he could when he shouted to the elderly man.

"anything else i can help with?" he asked, strained, lifting another shirt and folding it with slight imprecision.

the elderly man was still picking out more clothes from the aisles, his movements slow but steady. he gave a small wave and looked over at baekhyun, who smiled crooked, now blushing. "just a few more, son," he said, his tone warm, but the pace of his shopping was clearly a little slower than he would have liked.

his eyes dropped again, catching the faintest glimpse of your lips around his cock. his teeth gritted into quiet groans and a barely perceptible tremble. then, as he shifted his weight, baekhyun deliberately pressed his foot against your cunt, the contact intentional, lingering, pushing the dildo further into you. you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that caught in your throat, vibrating on his dick.

a jolt abruptly hit you while you sucked him off, the plug and the bullet inside suddenly buzzing to life, making you mewl another time. your eyes once again stinged with tears, the only thing keeping you quiet being his hard, large length moving in your mouth.

he threw his head back for a moment, his face extremely serious now with his high fast approching, "you like that?" he leaned in a little closer to the counter gripping the edge to hold himself steady. his voice dropped just low enough so only you could hear it. "gonna fucking cum." he huffed roughly. "but don't you think— i'm gonna be even close to done with you."

your heart raced, but you stayed still when he pulled your hair again, shoving deep inside your throat. his thick, warm ropes of semen filling your mouth, triggering your second orgasm, the both of you suddenly unafraid of making a noise that might give you away. the elderly man was still a few feet away, thankfully distracted by his own shopping, and didn’t seem to notice the sinful act baekhyun was doing to you.

you swallowed what you could, letting some drops escape, feeling lightheaded with the buzzing of the two vibrators, even if the intensity of both were low. baekhyun wasn't that evil.

he didn’t move for a moment longer, keeping his cock in your mouth while giving himself just enough time to mask it away. you already knew he wasn’t letting you go easily, but you couldn't even regret it now. every second felt like an eternity, the space between you charged with the weight of unspoken words, but you didn't have in it you to care.

"i think that’ll be all," the customer finally said, returning to the counter with a few more clothes in his hands. "could you just price these for me, please?"

baekhyun nodded, a little too quickly. he took the clothes from the elderly man with that same nonchalant smile, blinking through his blush, though his eyes flicked down on you for just a moment longer. he reached to the side to tap the digital register, but his foot brushed against your cunt once more, the touch more evil this time. "sure," he said, his voice calm but still carrying that undercurrent of breathlessness. "i’ll put these in a bag for you."

you breathed through your nose, trying to keep still. your eyes remained tight shut while you weretrying not to make any noises, but the feeling was too good.

he chuckled animously, almost a little fake, smiling charmingly to word the customer said, words you couldn't even hear anymore. "yes, these pants will really fit you well, sir." he spoke, not letting even a hint of his composure crack.

it was almost infuriating, but it was what you betted on. you knew what you did. what you said. and he knew you wanted this, despite it all. that's why you were doing it, wasn't it?

you swallowed again, opening your crying eyes to see his eyebrow twitch through his curated face from your doing, nodding to the man who elaborated something about his daughter's wedding. it sounded fuzzy, like an incessant ringing on your ear. your lower body felt indescribable. almost numb, if not for a warmth pulsating through your numb center that accompanied the feeling of doing this. doing this to baekhyun. at the middle of your work.

"thank you for purchasing at style and elan. we hope to see you again soon!" baekhyun waved, waiting for the costumer to leave before looking down. his smile died instantly, jaw extending foward to grunt.

"fuck—look at you." he groaned, seeing your state, his hard cock still in your mouth. his previous cum trickled down your chin onto the ground, close to where the vibrators stayed in both your holes, stuffing you. "gonna amp up both of them now, love."

he took advantadge of the closing hour to fuck your face a little longer, matching the pace of his thrusts to the buzz of the sextoys. your jaw was slack, merely taking what he was giving you with sloppy gagging, bubbles forming from the mix of spit and cum. he cursed again and again, keeping your fringe from falling over your teary eyes.

"so fucking pretty. so fucking perfect for me—" he rasped, loving your trembling body. loving your fucked out eyes. loving your squirting pussy.

by then, you knew it wasn't about the competition, or the bet. not anymore. now, it was just about how much you could give yourself to that annoying coworker you thought hated you.

now, the only competition left wasn’t about who could win the bets, or who could outdo the other in sales. it was about just how much byun baekhyun could use you while still being the employee of the month. the irony of it wasn’t lost on you, yet it didn't feel bad. maybe your favorite position was, indeed, under him.

prompts chosen ❅.

𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐳𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ❆.ᐟ week one

hypnosis, body worship, messy sex

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 ❆.ᐟ week two

hot tub sex, service kink, choking

𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐦𝐞 ❆.ᐟ week three

double pen, multiple orgasms, hair pulling

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 ❆.ᐟ week four

mindbreak, mirror sex, sensory dep

𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ week ??? (unrelated to the holidays)

something bloody that's been long overdue that could be posted this month.

Your thighs are shaking, pinned wide open by Clark’s hands, his grip near desperate as he ruts into you with a punishing force. It’s not as hard as he could go, you know that he must be biting through his lip trying to control himself. You wish he could go harder, that he could really give it to you. 

He deserves it. He works so hard, he deserves a nice warm hole to pound into after saving the world for the hundredth time—or after turning in another perfect front page piece to Perry.

You’ve brought it up a few times, when Clark was too drunk off the feeling of your lips against his own and the taste of your tongue on his to shy away from the conversation.

You could take it, you’d take anything he gives you with open arms and spread legs and a smile on your face.

Clark’s far too sweet to ever pin you down and just take. He’s a gentleman through and through, he was taught to treat ladies with respect. Superman isn’t an exception to those good farm boy manners of course, no matter how many times you’ve daydreamed about him flying through your window and tossing you on the mattress and using you.

God, you really do love him like this though.

“Sorry,” he pants, forehead pressed to yours, dark curls mussed. “I’m sorry, I can’t—I can’t stop. You feel too good, baby, you’re so good.”

Clark’s voice breaks on the last word like he’s begging you to understand, but the thrust of his hips says otherwise. There's nothing apologetic about the way he’s fucking you—like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Like his survival depends on it. The bed’s screaming under the weight of his body, your body, his strength.

Your spine arches off the bed as his hips slap against yours hard enough to sting, wet and relentless. “Clark,” you gasp, nails raking down his back uselessly. “Don’t stop. Please—don’t stop.”

His cock splits you open again and again, thick and flushed and incessant, pistoning deep and hard and needy. It’s too much. It always is. Too thick, too long, the fat head of him kissing up against something so deep inside you it shouldn’t be physically possible.

The room smells like sex. Sweat and musk and Clark—rain, ozone, sunlight. The sound of your bodies coming together bounces off the walls, the wet slap of skin on skin. The filthy, slick noises of your pussy sucking his cock deeper makes your ears burn.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come. Clark hasn’t. Of course he hasn’t.

“Five,” he groans, burying his face in the sweaty expanse of your neck. “You’re so sensitive now, baby, I know—I can hear it, your heartbeat skips every time I do this—” he pulls out, just halfway, then slams forward and stays there, his cock so deep your stomach distends a little. “Gosh, look at that.”

You’re soaked, ruined, you know it. You’ve been trembling under him for five rounds, but you love it. Every ragged thrust, every strangled apology he can’t stop moaning, every load he pumps into you like his body has to. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, drag him even deeper, and Clark whines.

“I’m—fuck—I’m gonna come again—please, baby, let me—please—”

He’s come three times already. You can feel the wet, hot mess he’s made of you, dripping down your thighs, soaking the sheets. You’re already so full. You feel full.

The last time he came inside you he barely gave you a minute before he was hard again, aching and apologizing even as he buried himself back in your cunt. His come is still dripping out of you in thick, creamy ropes, and he still hasn’t stopped chasing it. He can’t.

"Yes." Your legs wrap tighter around his waist. You want it. You need it. “Give it to me, Clark.”

That's all it takes for him to lose it again.

His body locks up—hips jerking, mouth falling open with a loud, broken moan.

You cry out as you feel him twitch deep inside you, and then it happens again—hot, endless, thick spurts of come painting your insides, filling you up so full it hurts. Clark’s gasping, his mouth falling open against your shoulder, his whole body trembling. 

His cock doesn’t go soft, it never does. Not when he’s buried in you like this. Not when you keep fluttering around him, squeezing down like you want to milk every last drop from his body.

“Shit, I didn’t mean—‘m sorry—I keep—” His hips stutter and then roll again, like he’s addicted to how you feel around him, like stopping would kill him. “It’s too much—I know, baby—I just—you make me so messy—”

There’s even more come leaking down your thighs in thin streams of white, soaking the sheets, slicking his cock every time he pulls out just to slam back in. You can feel how slippery everything is now, how swollen you are, how stretched. And still—he doesn’t stop.

“You—shit, you take it so good,” he moans. “My good girl—my pretty girl—look at you, look at how much I gave you.”

Clark looks down, a soft groan rips out from somewhere deep in his chest at the sight of his cock punching up inside of you. His eyes go, glassy and unfocused for a moment. That’s the only warning you get before he tilts his hips ever so slightly, and you’re crying out when he hits that spot up inside you perfectly on the next thrust.

That’s a definite perk of dating a metahuman, x-ray vision. You know that even without any special powers he could take you apart until you were a crying, shaking mess. That being said, the MRI eyes help.

Clark has spent hours learning each and every part of your body, inside and out. He’s made a home between your legs and watched your nervous system light up more times than you can count. 

He’s watched the way your dopamine levels spike when he mouths at your clit just right, the way your pulse lights up when his fingers slide deep and curl at just the right angle. He’s studied you like scripture, like a blueprint.

You cry out, screwing your eyes shut as your hands slide down his back. You revel in the feel of him on top of you, the muscles of his back rolling and working under your greedy touch. You’re going to come again, you know you are. The spring inside of you starts coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“Please,” Clark gasps, nearly sobbing it. “Let me—one more time, I promise—please—I know you’re full, baby, I know—just one more.”

“You’re gonna break the bed again,” you gasp, too dumb and lost for words to say anything else.

Clark doesn’t respond—maybe he can’t. Maybe he’s already too far gone to hear anything but the desperate squelch of his own come leaking out of your ruined pussy and down the hard length of his cock.

“I love you—I love you so much," he mutters incoherently, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the meat of your hips as his cock carves a place for itself inside you. "You feel too good—god, you were made for me.”

The mattress jerks violently beneath you with every thrust—you can feel the wood frame groaning, splintering. Not the first time. Probably won’t be the last.

It’ll be worth it.

MINI NAT'S NOTE: anyway this movie changed my life. i started rewatching 70s superman the second i got home. james gunn thank you for making superhero movies with love and whimsy again.

thank you so much for reading, love you!