the chaos chapter

I cannot believe the last sec!Jay episode was posted literally IN MAY 2023!!! I am so sorry! I had it all planned out... I was going to celebrate this series' first anniversary and have it end in the same month... and I swear I already started writing part 12 even before I released the last two minisodes, but then I got stuck for the longest time, and also busy, but now I am back, so here is part 12.

if you check the lyrics to this song that I used as a title you'll see why I used it. as always, if you find any typos or grammatical errors please message me!!

taglist: @thots4hee @jayked @end-hyphen @nyanggk @yoursjaeyun @maggstar @bucketofhiros @dimplejaehyuncutie @excusememissiloveyou @shinkenprincess-oh @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy

(send an ask if you want to be added or removed)

It was dark and cold when you opened your eyes. You blinked a couple of times before your gaze shifted to your right, and sure enough, you found his side empty. There was a lump in your throat, and somehow you felt parched. You touched your face only to feel dried tears staining your cheek.

After a couple more seconds, you started to panic, yanking the blanket away from your body and frantically searching for the only source of comfort that you had. The bathroom was empty, so you walked out of your bedroom and scanned the huge living room. You only found unpacked boxes and your sofa still wrapped in plastic, and even the lights in the kitchen were off.

Your hands began to tremble as you made your way to the center of the room. Your head began to spin, and your heartbeat gradually became faster as you tried and failed to gain enough consciousness so early in the morning. Your eyes flickered and you whispered to yourself.

“Phone.”

You went back to your bedroom and immediately grabbed your phone that you had placed on the end table since the night before. You unlocked it and somehow managed to feel even more let down at the lack of notifications. Just as you were about to lose it, you heard the door unlocking and the familiar sound of footsteps entering the house.

Jay was trying his best to make as little noise as possible, but when he saw you walking out of the bedroom, his eyes lit up. Once he registered what was going on though, from the expression on your face, he became worried.

“Hey,” he said softly, just seconds before you threw yourself into his embrace.

You began sobbing on his chest, drenching his shirt in your tears. Your hands were grabbing on the back of his shirt, and with every breath you took your shoulders shook with you. Jay enveloped you in his arms and started making shushing noise.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, squeezing your shoulders. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Your cries did not seem to be stopping soon, and the sound of your wails created a huge lump in Jay’s throat too. His eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to pull you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. He did not stop rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you, and once he heard you quieting down, he started speaking softly.

“Was it a bad dream?” he asked in the lowest voice he could muster.

You merely nodded your head, still burying it in the crook of his neck as you sniffled the tears.

“Were you looking for me?” Jay asked again. You nodded softer this time, and Jay felt horrible. “I’m sorry. I should have left a note or texted you. I didn’t think you would wake up so early. I think I spent way too much time at the gym too.”

You responded only with a sniffle, and you began to loosen the grip on his shirt. Jay immediately took one of your hands off his back and grabbed it tight.

“Here, let me look at you,” he said, trying to pry you away from his body.

You shook your head and hid your face on his chest again, refusing to make eye contact. Jay calmly opened your fist and made you palm his face.

“I’m right here,” he said, placing a hand over yours so you would stay cupping his face. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head again, and Jay assumed that it meant he did not have to apologize. It was killing him the way you refused to look at him, though, but in reality, you were just embarrassed that you broke down over something so trivial.

Jay turned his face to kiss your palm, and the warmth surged through your whole body. You regained composure, and once you felt calmer, you tilted your face up, nudging your nose to his jawline. In an instant, Jay placed his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss.

You kissed him desperately, like you had not seen him in years, and to him it felt like you were trying to breathe in the air inside his mouth. His lips gently danced with yours, stopping in between to let you breathe. His hand never left the back of your head, nor did his arm around your waist, and at that moment you were willing to give anything to make the time stop.

“I love you,” you said as you broke the kiss. Your voice came out as barely a whisper.

Jay nodded, brushing his nose with yours before kissing the corner of your lips softly. He trailed soft kisses from there up to your cheek before stopping on your earlobe. His hand moved up to stroke your hair, making you close your eyes as you listened to his raspy voice right in your ear.

“I love you more.”

---

Jake and Heeseung’s screams of frustration accompanied with Sunghoon’s victorious cackle made the whole room shake. You almost let a clean mug slip out of your hands from the shock, and Jay chuckled at the way you ever so slightly flinched. You looked over your shoulder and saw that the three guys were hunched together, while Isa and Yoon were sitting on the lounge chair across them, eyes glued to the TV.

“I’ll tell them to keep it down,” Jay said, closing in on you and pecking your cheek before he made his way to the living room.

Isa and Yoon’s eyes lit up the moment they saw the tray filled with cold drinks in Jay’s hand, and Sunghoon had to shout at Jake for almost knocking everything down from being so jumpy and chaotic. Heeseung cleared the table to help Jay set the tray down, and then each of them started asking questions about the drinks.

You joined them only after you replied to a couple of messages on your phone, and as you slipped your phone into your pocket you noticed that everyone was already holding their own beverages.

“An informal toast!” Yoon said, raising her glass of iced latte. “To the new house.”

“To the new couple, Mr. and Mrs. Park,” Jake joined in.

“And to Heeseung, for being one of the awardees of our company’s scholarship program,” you ended with a smile.

Heeseung’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened. Jay was already chuckling, amused at the faces his friends were making.

“Are you serious?” Heeseung asked, looking at you. He then looked at Jay, then at you again.

“Congratulations, buddy,” Jay finally intercepted, nudging Heeseung’s arm with his elbow.

“Cheers!” Sunghoon shouted, surprisingly being the loudest of the group at that very moment.

Three people started talking at once, and you had to jump from one group to another to tend to all their questions.

“So, this housewarming is actually also like a mini wedding reception and like a congratulatory party too? Who is the main character of this party?” Isa asked you, genuinely confused.

“All of you guys, the invitees. And the house maybe,” you replied, smiling sweetly at Isa. “Thank you for coming, girls. I know that you don’t like it when I mix two different groups of friends.”

“That’s bulls, you always nail it when you intentionally introduce your friends to each other. Wasn’t that how we became a trio?” Yoon chimed in, not taking her eyes off her drink.

You continued to talk to the girls for a while until Jake interrupted, claiming that he needed to go to the bathroom, but Sunghoon was taking too long in the guest powder room. You calmly asked Jay to point out the bathroom in the main bedroom before you excused yourself to the kitchen to get a refill on the snacks and drinks.

Not long after, you heard the soft footsteps of Jake waddling towards you. You locked eyes with him, and he was making a concerned and rather uncomfortable face. You immediately started to frown before asking him.

“Is there a problem in the bathroom?” You asked, resting your hand on the counter.

Jake stood beside you and leaned in to be discreet. “You left your sex toy in the bathroom.”

“What?” You half-shouted, half-whispered. “What do you mean?”

“What’s going on here?”

Jay’s voice was calm, but he had it in that lower register that sort of just vibrated, and both you and Jake jumped a little in your places.

“Jake said there’s a sex toy in the bathroom,” you calmly reiterated.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Jay almost spat back in response. You snorted at his reply.

Jake looked at you apologetically before dragging Jay back into the bathroom. You made sure that the others were preoccupied before following the two of them. When you reached the bathroom, you heard Jay’s loud sigh.

“What?” Jake asked, holding up the ‘sex toy’ by its little handle.

Jay’s reaction immediately made sense. You started giggling softly, trying to suppress it from turning into a huge cackle.

“You think that’s a sex toy?” You asked. “That purple spiky-looking thing?”

“Yeah, what do you think we’re supposed to do with it?” Jay added.

Jake visibly cringed. “Ew? I don’t need to know what you two do behind closed doors. I’m just saying if you’re inviting people to your house maybe put away these types of stuff.”

You walked towards Jake, took the ‘sex toy’ from his hand and started pressing it onto his head.

“Noona!” Jake shrieked in horror.

“It’s a scalp massager, Jake! What, just because it’s made of silicone, you automatically assume it’s a sex toy?”

Jay was wheezing against the doorway, and you turned your head to him.

“Baby, don’t laugh like you didn’t think of the same thing when I first bought this.”

Jake’s initially embarrassed face was instantly replaced with relief. The two men then started laughing and yelling at each other while you shook your head and tidied up a little around the sink. When Jay brought up the idea of having a joint get-together of your friends and his, you did not expect it to be this chaotic, but you were glad that you agreed to it.

---

You walked out of your bedroom, one hand rubbing your eye as you tried to stifle back a yawn. The sound coming from the kitchen woke you up, since it was repetitive, and Jay did not seem like he was trying to be quiet. In his defense, he wanted you to know that he was there, so he made loud noises on purpose.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” Jay greeted you as soon as he caught you in his sight. He was doing the rest of last night’s dishes as he waited for breakfast to cook.

“Really?” You chuckled. “I have dried up drool on the corner of my mouth and my hair looks like a bird’s nest.”

“Signs of a good sleep then, that’s nice,” Jay replied nonchalantly. “That means last night I did tire you out, didn’t I?”

Holding back a smile would be useless as Jay was already looking at you with his signature smirk. A proud smirk, you thought. Last night was probably one of the best nights you had with Jay, if you could even list down your favorites.

You had been watching House of the Dragon for a while, and although Jay wasn’t the biggest fan of fantasy mixed with gore, he still sat with you through every episode. It melted your heart that every time a stomach-turning scene was about to come up, Jay would always lean into you and let you hide your face in the crook of his neck until the scene ends.

This time, though, the scene came on without warning and you both gasped loudly at the same time. Your mouth hung open and you knew Jay had the same face despite him rubbing his hand on your shoulder to console you. When the episode ended, you turned to look at him and he smiled apologetically.

“Sorry I wasn’t fast enough to catch that,” he said, pouting.

You quickly turned the TV off and moved to sit on his lap. You thanked him with your mouth, not with words but in a way that you were certain he would appreciate. After a hot minute of making out, you hopped off the sofa and kneeled in front of him, knowing how hard he had already become.

Jay grasped onto the throw pillows and blanket on the sofa as you gave him the suck of his life. He couldn’t stop moaning whenever his tip hit the back of your throat, and the view of him with his exposed and clenched jawline and his eyes rolled back just motivated you to go even harder. He thrusted his hips up and grabbed your arm, which you thought was a warning, so you calmly stroked his thigh until he came in your mouth.

You had to very carefully pull away to not let any of his cum drip to the floor. As you did so, a drop of it trickled down your chin and you swore Jay let out the shakiest breath ever. He sat up and wiped his thumb along your bottom lip, catching the remains and thrusting his thumb into your mouth, making you lick it dry. After that, he rested his hand behind your neck and pulled you into a deep kiss, tasting himself on your tongue.

“Bedroom?” He whispered after you pulled away to catch your breath.

You nodded enthusiastically and the next thing you remember was being naked with him on your new bed with brand new silk sheets. The feeling of the soft sheets contrasting with the way Jay was holding your hips made your heart beat a lot faster, and you desperately tried to slow things down as you took the lead, grinding your hips on his lap as he sat up with you, his cock twitching inside of you every time you clenched around him.

Your hands were touching him everywhere, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, and as you mustered all the energy you had left to keep the pace, Jay kissed your chin before lifting you up and instantly switching your position. You were now lying on your back, and Jay held your legs spread open as he started to thrust into you faster than before. Your breath hitched and you grasped the sheets behind you, while Jay chased his own high and squeezed your boobs as he released his seed inside of you.

Your heavy breaths were now in sync, and you saw Jay panting, which was something that rarely happens. Usually, you were the only one out of breath, so you couldn’t help but form a small triumphant smile.

“How are we feeling?” you asked as Jay managed to maneuver you both, lying sideways and facing each other without him having to pull out of you.

Jay chuckled softly before kissing the tip of your nose. “I’m so beat right now, fuck.”

You laughed softly and started peppering kisses all over his face, loving the way his arms automatically wrapped around your waist.

“Wasn’t I the one that tired you out?” you said, snapping back to the present and trying to dismiss the image of last night. You did not need to get wet so early in the morning, not when Jay was making breakfast for you both.

“Alright,” Jay replied, wiping his hands on the apron he was wearing. “Let’s say we both did.”

You nodded once and let Jay get back to his thing. He had told you several times that he did not mind being the only one busy in the kitchen, and having you eat whatever he had prepped was rewarding enough.

For you, though, seeing him in the kitchen was a reward in itself, for Jay often cooked or cleaned with sleeveless shirts, or shirtless, or in a unique combination like right now.

“Is that apron really necessary when you’re shirtless like that?” You asked as you sat on the stool facing the counter. You placed your elbows on the counter and rested your chin on the back of your hands.

“I feel like you’re trying to tell me something so why don’t you get to the point?” Jay asked back, smirking at you before diverting his attention back to the meal he was prepping.

“You look very fuckable, husband.”

Jay let out a breathy chuckle before turning around and serving you a plate of omelet with mushrooms and a small portion of salad. You looked at his plate and he had the exact same thing except with cherry tomatoes.

“As much as I’d like to have you for breakfast,” Jay began, “we have a very important meeting this morning and I need you to not skip a meal.”

“Fair,” you replied, smiling when Jay pecked your cheek. He took his apron off before sitting on the stool beside you. “This looks amazing. Thank you, baby.”

“Anything for my queen.”

---

The computer screen in front of you was already set to a dimmer light, but despite that it still hurt your eyes. You had already taken a power nap, finished a cup of iced latte, yet the drowsiness remained. You heard a knock on the door and waited for Jay to let himself in.

“The last meeting of the day is in fifteen, Boss,” Jay said as he walked to you, spinning a pen in his hand and having his iPad secured in his arms. “Still sleepy?”

“You know me best,” you answered, leaning back on your seat and stretching your arms as much as you could. You yawned and Jay had to look away to not catch it too. “I’ll just get cold water.”

Jay looked like he was contemplating something as he watched you walk to the mini bar. After a couple of seconds, he rushed out of the office and before you could even say a word, he returned less than a minute later, holding a small package in his hands.

“I was gonna wait until we got home, but…”

You eyed the box in his hand. He was already smiling at you.

“What do you have there?” you asked, almost too scared to find out the answer.

Jay peeped his head out your door, making sure none of your employees were around. He reckoned that Hwiyoung was on a coffee break, so he calmly closed your door before he made his way back to you.

“Don’t get mad at me, but I ordered this for funsies,” Jay said, giving the box to you.

“You open it.”

Jay sighed and shook his head, thinking that it had been years at this point of him taking orders from you, but he would still do it for another thousand years. He grabbed a pen from your desk and used the tip to break the seal, and within seconds you were looking at a sleek box with a vague image on top of it.

“Is it like a massager? That would make me even sleepier, Jay,” you complained before you could even see the actual item.

“Stay with me,” Jay replied calmly, completely unboxing the item.

It was a two-piece device, one remote and the other…

“It’s magnetic,” Jay explained. “You can clip this to the inside of your panties, and I’ll hold the remote. Wear it during the meeting so you can be alert at all times. When I catch you zoning out, be ready for it to vibrate.”

“You’re fucking joking,” you said, chuckling to yourself. “Right?”

“Baby, I’m very serious,” he replied in his actual serious voice. “When naps and caffeine don’t work, I had to get creative to find a solution.”

“This sounds like more fun for you,” you sighed, taking the device from his hands and examining it up close.

“Well, yes, but you’ll feel the pleasure.”

As you were holding the main device, Jay pressed the remote and it vibrated in your hand. You almost jolted from the shock and you both laughed out loud from your reaction. Jay quickly turned the device off and took it out of your hand.

“I understand if you don’t want to try it now. We can always do it some other time,” Jay said, turning his back to you and already packing the device back into its box.

You licked your lips before you made your decision. You took a step closer to Jay and held his wrist, stopping him.

“I’ll do it.”

---

During most meetings, your presence is usually needed to review your team’s ideas and give necessary feedback. This means that you rarely had to speak, and around eighty percent of the time you would always be listening to other people speak. When you’re sleepy and losing focus, this easy task could be particularly hard to follow.

You and Jay were sitting at the end of the table, the farthest from the whiteboard and the chairs where the speakers were gathered. The meeting room was large enough to have everyone sit with ample space between each other, making them have to lean in if they wanted to whisper a thought. You had both your hands clasped in front of your face, your lips touching your thumbs as you were listening to Keeho’s presentation.

Jay caught you slow blinking several times before you shut your eyes for more than two seconds. He reached into his pocket and pressed a button on the remote. Your body jolted awake, and to quickly hide the reaction you faked a sneeze.

“Bless you, Miss,” Keeho said without missing a beat before continuing to talk.

You side-eyed Jay and he immediately mouthed ‘sorry’ to you. He winked and took his hands out of his pocket, and you relaxed for a moment. The meeting carried on and you started making notes on your journal while waiting for the next speaker to set up. Jay then noticed that the movement of your pen paused, so he slid his hand into his pocket again and pressed the remote.

The shock you expressed this time was in the form of a slam on the table. Your team thought you were losing patience and they apologized to you in an instant, almost in unison. Jay had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from laughing, and once Beomgyu started his presentation, you lightly slapped Jay on his thigh.

You were now paying close attention to Beomgyu and you even commented on a few things, earning more comments from the rest of the team. While Yeji was telling you about her thoughts on one of your remarks, Jay pressed the button on the remote. You couldn’t hold back from letting out a moan this time, but you were quick to put a hand over your stomach.

“Sorry,” you quickly muttered. “That time of the month,” you continued, faking a smile.

“Oh, I can talk to you about this some other time, Miss,” Yeji replied, smiling back with concern. “Maybe Beomgyu could wrap up.”

As your team refocused their attention back to Beomgyu, you shot daggers at Jay with your eyes and a look that said, ‘what the fuck was that for?’. Jay only threw a smug smile as a response.

The meeting was eventually adjourned since it was getting late, and you had always been against your team working overtime unless it was absolutely necessary. That, and the fact that Jay could not stop pressing the remote and driving you crazy.

“You seem to be having way too much fun,” you said to him as you stared at the elevator waiting for it to arrive.

Jay stood proudly beside you, both his hands in his pocket and his head tilted up slightly. You had never seen him this cocky. The elevator then dinged and as you entered, you were relieved to find it empty. However, you heard several people talking and before you knew it, Yeji, Beomgyu, and Keeho joined in the elevator.

“Miss,” Keeho greeted you with a smile. “Going down?”

Beomgyu was about to press the lobby, but you shook your head and Jay cleared his throat.

“Back to the office, actually,” Jay clarified. “You guys can go home though.”

Beomgyu nodded and pressed the number to your floor. The three of them stood in front of you, talking to each other in whispers. The elevator ride down felt like it took so long, and it did not help that Jay pressed the remote in his pocket, again.

“Shit,” you muttered, leaning into Jay and grabbing his arm for support.

Jay’s cocky smile quickly shifted into fake concern once he noticed everyone looking at you.

“Are you okay, Miss?” Beomgyu asked.

“Miss, I have painkillers but they’re at my desk. I can go get it for you,” Yeji chimed in, reaching to touch your arm.

You merely grabbed onto Jay and squeezed his arm unnecessarily hard. Jay winced and chuckled to defuse the tension.

“I got it from here, guys. Thanks,” Jay smiled at them, putting his hand over yours and caressing you gently.

You arrived at your floor and as you exited the elevator with Jay, your employees waved at you still with concerned looks on their faces. As soon as the elevator door closed, you yanked your hands off Jay’s arm, and he cackled as he followed you back to the office.

You had dismissed Hwiyoung earlier, so you did not have to worry about any employees lingering around your office. You swung the door open and pulled the hair clip off your hair, throwing it haphazardly on your desk. Jay followed you and closed the door behind him before taking the remote out of his pocket.

“Mission accomplished?” Jay asked, dangling the remote in front of your face.

“Shut up.”

You threw your body towards him and he caught you in his arms, also catching your lips in his. The remote dropped from his hand and you continued to move closer to him, making him take several steps backwards until he hit a wall. Your hands were firmly cupping his face so you could dominate the kiss, but his hands were roaming freely all over your body.

“You made me all wet,” you whispered, kissing his cheek. “That wasn’t the goal.”

Jay smiled, pushing your skirt up your thighs and reaching for your panties to detach the device. “But what if it is?” he asked as he got rid of it. “What if the goal is exactly to make you wet?”

“Then you’re gonna have to clean up,” you muttered, pulling him by his tie and switching positions, making him cage you with his arms. “Be a good boy, will you?”

You placed both your hands on his shoulders and started pushing him down to his knees. The moment he realized what was going on, Jay chuckled and ran his hands down your sides as he went down. He even dragged your panties with the hook of his fingers and carefully took them off your feet.

He looked up at you with his gorgeous, gorgeous eyes and you took a deep breath before you witnessed his face disappearing under your skirt. You let out a soft whimper when you felt his plush lips kiss your folds, and it did not take long for him to completely devour you, making your lewd moans escape your lips. His hands were parked on your ass firmly, and you began slowly grinding your hips while you placed the back of your arm against your mouth to conceal the noises you were letting out.

Your other hand snaked down to the back of his head, and you tugged on his hair. Jay moaned into your cunt and kept his pace until he noticed your legs tensing up. The grip on his head became stronger as you reached your high, and he was moaning softly along with you, his voice muffled by your own heat.

Jay lifted his head up to look at you, and he was proud that the look of your fucked out face was the one to greet him. You looked at him and saw that his face was a mess, his drool mixed with your cum stained all over his mouth, so you calmly wiped his lips with your thumb.

“Stand up,” you whispered, licking your lips.

Jay did as you said and you greeted him with the softest kiss, feeling him melt into your touch.

“Do you think we can do that again?” Jay asked, brushing his nose against yours.

“Yes, but not in front of my employees,” you answered.

Jay chuckled and you smiled at him. “Out in public, maybe?”

“Sure,” you replied. “But only if you fuck my brains out afterwards.”

“Deal,” Jay said in a split second. “That’s an even bigger win for me.”

---

You were sitting on an outdoor lounge chair by the porch, legs up and facing the beach that was walking distance from the villa. On the coffee table was your laptop, showing several windows open as well as a pile of documents to its side with your sunglasses case acting as a paperweight. As you were reading a chat from your phone and crosschecking it with a document on your screen, you felt a soft tap on your arm.

“Auntie.”

You turned your head and smiled as soon as you saw Ayun.

“Can you brush my hair?” she asked politely, holding up a hairbrush with one hand.

“Of course, darling,” you replied, setting your phone on the table and patting your thighs. Ayun immediately climbed to sit on your lap.

From inside, Jay was prepping the ingredients for an early dinner, and he could see the porch from the huge window on the side of the kitchen. He paused cutting up the potatoes to watch your interaction with Ayun, and soon after, Seungho entered with a couple of snacks and drinks in his hands.

“In case you need refreshments,” your brother said, setting the snacks on the table and heading over to the fridge to store the drinks. “Whatchu got there?”

“Oh, uhm,” Jay stuttered at the sudden appearance of your brother. “Just Japanese-style curry, if that’s okay?”

Seungho chuckled. “What do you mean ‘if that’s okay’? You’re the chef here, we’re definitely just gonna eat what you make. Oh, by the way, Byunghee can’t handle spice.”

“Noted,” Jay replied. “I’ll have the chili flakes separated and served on the table later.”

“Awesome.” Seungho smiled and took a few steps closer to where Jay was standing. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can help you with? I mean, I did hear from my sister that you’re very much a lone chef…”

Jay nodded. “And she is right. I’ve got it covered. Thank you, though. And thanks for inviting us to stay for the weekend.”

Seungho smiled and waved his hand. “It’s nothing. I really wanted to spend more time with family, and I figured the only way to make my sister come down here to Jeju is to forcefully book her tickets and let her stay in this beach house—oh, my God that is adorable!”

Jay blinked and quickly joined Seungho looking out the window. You were holding up your phone, having it on selfie mode, while letting Ayun sing whatever song she was trying to belt out. Ayun was giggling because of the cat filter you had put on.

“For someone who says she doesn’t like children, she really is good with them,” Seungho said, sounding a little solemn.

“She is,” Jay responded, almost a whisper. He then cleared his voice and continued with the meal prep.

“I’m actually glad that we decided to adopt Ayun. I don’t know if my sister had told you, but initially we wanted to be child-free. Some time along the way I think our views both changed.”

Jay had to stop chopping a carrot to gather his thoughts and process Seungho’s words. “I think you both made a great decision. Ayun seems to be happy having two great dads.”

Seungho chuckled softly and smiled to himself. “Thanks for saying that. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

Just as Seungho reached the doorway, Byunghee appeared.

“Go get our daughter and play with her for a bit. I wanna talk to my sister,” Seungho said, placing a hand on Byunghee’s shoulder.

---

You were drying your hair in the bathroom when Jay entered after knocking on the door softly. He gave you the warmest smile and you noticed the hint of fatigue on his face.

“Ayun doesn’t seem to get tired easily, does she?” you asked knowingly.

Jay pouted and nodded, and his adorable expression made you laugh. He stood next to you, and you made room for him, scooting to the side so he could use the sink.

“I had a long talk with Seungho earlier,” you said as you watched him reach for the toothpaste. “He seems to be very proud of Ayun and is having a blast raising her with Byunghee.”

“I can see that,” Jay replied, his voice muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth. “And Ayun is such a nice little girl. I’m sure they’re doing something right.”

You nodded and fell silent as you put away the dryer and began organizing the skincare by the sink. Jay noticed your unusual behavior and quickly wrapped up brushing his teeth.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he said after rinsing his mouth one last time.

You tilted your head and hesitated for a second. “I know that we haven’t really talked about it before we got married, and that’s on me, but what are your thoughts about having children?”

Jay smiled at you softly and turned to face you. He began rubbing both your shoulders with his hands. “Is this what you talked about with your brother?”

“Answer the question, Jay.”

“Alright, Boss,” Jay chuckled, leaning in to peck your cheek. “It’s your body. If you want children, then I will be happy to have them with you. If you don’t, I respect that.”

“Are you being honest?” you retorted, furrowing your eyebrows.

“When have I ever lied to you, Y/N?”

You were about to list all the excuses he had given you before, but you realized all of it was to keep the proposal a surprise. Every little white lie he told you was a cover up that led to him proposing to you, so you couldn’t really count those.

“Really? Playing with Ayun all day didn’t make you feel some sort of spark?” you asked again, this time crossing your elbows in front of your chest.

“How about you?” Jay asked back. “You spent a lot of time with her today. Did it awaken something in you?”

“You always ask me back my questions without answering,” you pouted, shoving his hands away and turning away from him.

Jay smiled and looked at you through the reflection in the mirror. “If I don’t Uno-reverse you, how will I ever know what you really think? I can’t read minds, my love.”

You pouted even more and began leaning into Jay, throwing all your body weight on him. He responded by circling his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug. You continued to look at each other through the reflection.

“I don’t like kids in general, but maybe I’d like them if they were ours?” you asked, unsure.

“If we had a mini-me and mini-you that would literally be the most adorable thing,” Jay agreed. “But again, it’s your body. I know the thought of pregnancy isn’t that dreamy to you, so we can consider adopting if you really want us to raise a child? We can follow in your brother’s footsteps.”

Hearing Jay’s suggestion, a smile creeped up on your face. You closed your eyes and tightened your arms around his body, nuzzling your face to his neck.

“I married the right man,” you mumbled, taking in his scent.

Jay smiled and moved his head to kiss your temple. “Aren’t you glad?”

You pinched Jay’s waist as a response to his remark and he winced before letting out a hearty laugh. Your nose brushed against his chin as you attempted to kiss his jawline.

“So, ultimately I get to decide because it’s my body, right?”

Jay hummed as he squeezed you tighter, trailing his hands down from your hips to your ass.

“There’s a part of me that’s yours too, though,” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder and looking at him through his reflection again.

“Your heart?” Jay replied.

You let out a breathy chuckle as you shook your head. “God, you’re such a romantic.”

Confused, Jay pulled away from you to look you in the eyes. You grabbed his hand from behind your waist and guided his palm to touch you between your legs.

“Oooh,” Jay reacted, nodding his head. “I get it now.”

“Idiot,” you muttered, pulling his face in for a deep kiss.

Jay kissed you passionately, pressing his body onto yours until you had to arch your back, feeling his hands squeezing your ass. You held his face firmly, moving your lips in sync with his and letting your tongues dance together. He bit your lower lip gently and you chuckled softly.

“Minty,” you commented.

Jay smiled and pecked your cheek three times. “Better than morning breath, right?”

You grinned and shook your head as you took his hand in yours and led him to the bed. You sat down on the edge, and he watched as you began to undress, leaving nothing on your body. You then wondered why he was just standing there doing nothing.

“Baby?” you called. “What’s wrong?”

Jay shook his head, never taking his eyes off your body. “You’re just so beautiful.”

You scoffed. “You’ve seen me naked a million times…”

“Take the compliment, Y/N.”

The tone in the way he said your name made you visibly blush. You brought your hands up to cover your mouth because you did not want to let Jay see your stupid grin.

“And you’re a professional panty-dropper, Jay, so please just get naked with me.”

Jay laughed at your ridiculous remark, and you laughed with him, waiting patiently until he got rid of all his clothes. When he was finally naked, he lifted you up by your waist and you shrieked as he moved you to the center of the bed.

“Sssh!” Jay said in a hurry, bringing one hand to cover your mouth. “I think your brother is still awake.”

“Jay, we’re adults, they are adults, they know what we’re doing anyway.”

“Yeah,” Jay replied, his hand moving to caress your face. “But if I had a sister, I wouldn’t love it if I could hear her getting railed.”

You groaned in disgust and Jay just laughed, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Are we doing this or what?” you complained, lightly slapping his arm.

“Be quiet for me, okay?” Jay said as he began rubbing your waist.

“I thought you liked to hear me moan,” you complained, pouting.

Jay let out a moan of frustration and you chuckled before he silenced you by shutting your mouth with his. You both smiled into the kiss before you felt his hand squeezing your ass and moving down to spread your legs. The soft chuckles you let out turned into whimpers, and your body twitched whenever Jay put pressure on your folds with his fingers.

“Jay,” you called out breathlessly after minutes of him playing with your cunt. “I want you.”

He kissed your cheek and let his lips linger there for a moment before he whispered in your ear. “I know.”

Jay coated his fingers with your arousal and spread it all over his shaft. You licked your lips in anticipation as he aligned himself with you, and you took a deep breath as you felt him enter you. Your mouth hung open and your eyes closed, and as Jay began thrusting in and out of you, he intertwined his fingers with yours, placing your hand above your head.

He knew what he had to do to make you moan, he knew all the right buttons to push, so out of courtesy, tonight he took it agonizingly slow. Every deep and slow thrust he made only made your breath hitch, and the loudest sound you let out was a whimper. You felt his hand grab your thigh and you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist.

His chest was pressed onto yours, and the heat of his body was enveloping you and beginning to cloud your senses. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you whenever you clenched harder, and you were delighted to hear his soft little grunts by your ear when it happened. His arms flexed as he continued to hover on top of you, and you started to caress his shoulders to soothe him.

“I’m close, baby,” you whispered, grasping his shoulders.

“Cum for me first, love,” he replied, brushing your hair back.

Jay leaned into you and began sucking on your neck softly, knowing just the right thing to make you reach your high faster. He noticed your body tensing and he sucked harder, deciding not to worry about the mark that would be left on your skin. As you climaxed, you whined near his ear and he calmly shushed you, kissing your cheek.

“I love you,” he mumbled, lips brushing yours. “So much.”

You felt him release his seed inside of you and you hooked your feet together, pushing his body even closer to yours. His hips rutted and he groaned softly into your ear, so you brought your hands up and entangled your fingers in his hair. Jay licked his lips before he pushed himself up to get a look at your face.

“I love you,” you mouthed, smiling when he leaned in to kiss your lips.

Jay smiled and carefully pulled out of you. When he moved to the side, he placed one hand over your core, and as he felt his cum dripping out of you, he slid a finger over it and stuffed it back into your cunt. You almost hissed at the feeling, grabbing onto his shoulder again.

“Wouldn’t want to waste a single drop,” Jay whispered, kissing your chin. “Also, I don’t want to dirty these expensive looking sheets.”

You laughed but it came out as a snort, and Jay found it hilarious that his body began to shake with the silent laugh that he let out.

“Not too loud!” Jay half-whispered, half-shouted.

“At this point my brother is going to think we’re just watching Netflix in bed,” you whispered back.

“That might seem like a better option,” Jay replied, bringing his hand back to your waist and squeezing it softly. “Do you need another shower?”

You shook your head. “I kind of like the feeling of being sweaty after having sex with you.”

Jay smiled, proudly. “Good. Me too.”

---

The ride to the office was quiet since both you and Jay were busy with your own gadgets. Jay was reviewing a presentation that he had made, while you were checking unread messages on your phone. Your hand stopped scrolling once you read a status from an old friend, and you immediately set your phone gently on your lap and brought one hand to cover your mouth.

“Is something wrong?” Jay asked, noticing the shift in your gestures.

“An old friend from college passed away,” you muttered, moving your hand to massage your temple. “I knew that she was sick, but I haven’t checked on her over a month.”

Jay deemed that the situation was too delicate for him to even comment, so he set his iPad down and grabbed your hand. He held you tightly, intertwining your fingers and caressing your hand with his thumb. Once you adjusted your seat and took a deep breath, he looked at you carefully before he spoke.

“If you wish to visit her family, I can cover for you,” Jay said, looking at the road ahead.

“It’s all the way in Busan,” you replied, already sounding so defeated.

“I’ll book you a flight.” Jay squeezed your hand before letting go. “We’re here. I’ll ask Hwiyoung to sit in for the meeting while I handle the rest of it.”

“I’ll be on standby, Miss,” Mr. Lee chimed in, smiling at you through the rearview mirror.

You sat still in your seat as Jay grabbed his bag and opened the door. Mr. Lee even turned around slightly to look at you both.

“I got this, Y/N.” Jay leaned into you and kissed your cheek. “Mr. Lee, if you don’t mind would you kindly drive her back home so she can pack? I’ll text you the details of the flight later.”

Mr. Lee nodded and waited for Jay to close the door. He then rolled down the window for you and Jay bent over to look at you. You had tears welling up in your eyes and you could only mouth ‘thank you’ to him. He smiled at you and blew you a kiss before standing up straight and turning around.

---

The day went by in a flash. You arrived just in time for your friend’s funeral, and you were glad that you chose to wear all black when you were getting dressed earlier in the morning. After giving your condolences to the family, you had to stick around for a meal and ended up meeting other friends that you met back in college. The brief catch-up was quite pleasant, but you left with a heavy heart.

Jay decided to pick you up from the airport himself, since you insisted on flying back the same night instead of the next morning. You did not have to wait long until your car pulled up, and when you hopped in, Jay leaned over to place a soft kiss on your cheek. He let you both sit in silence, knowing that it wasn’t the right time to be asking you a bunch of questions. At almost every red light, when Jay’s hand was idle, you intertwined your fingers with his and he gave you a reassuring squeeze before the light turned green again.

When you arrived home, Jay quietly took your bag and your jacket and waited for you to walk ahead of him towards the house. He began tidying up a little as he let you unwind and do your own thing, and he turned on the jazz instrumental playlist that you had displayed on the TV. You checked on him once in a while as you took your make up off and undressed to get into the shower, and you saw him cozied up on the sofa with a book. You had no idea that the respectful silence he gave you would make you feel comforted and guilty at the same time.

You still had a towel wrapped around your head as you walked towards him in your new silk pajama set. He looked up from his book, and before he could say anything, you spoke first.

“Namjoon was there.”

You noticed the subtle shift of emotion in his eyes before he straightened his position and made room for you to sit.

“My friend,” you began, “may she rest in peace, was the one who introduced me to him, so it would be weird if he wasn’t there.”

Jay looked at you and found you staring blankly at the coffee table in front of you.

“Everyone else was there too. Some I haven’t seen in years, and they thought that Namjoon and I were still a thing.”

You could hear rustling beside you and you noticed that Jay was quietly putting his book away.

“We talked a lot, all of us. And just the two of us too. It was nothing important…”

You began to realize that Jay had been quiet for longer than usual, and it had never happened before, so you stopped mid-sentence.

“Please say something,” you whispered, almost to yourself.

Without a word, Jay moved closer to you and pulled you into his embrace. You cried, staining his shirt with your tears, and as you were shaking in his arms, he tried his best to console you with his warmth. He rubbed his hands along your arms and your back while he repeatedly whispered ‘it’s okay’ into your ear.

“You’ve had a long day,” he finally said, pulling away from you. “You need to get some rest.”

“You’re not mad?” You asked, eyes still teary yet beaming at him.

“Why would I be?” Jay replied, wiping his thumb along your cheek. “Go to bed, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

You nodded and let Jay help you stand up before you turned and headed towards the bedroom. After getting rid of your towel and sliding underneath the blanket, you realized that Jay was probably going to take some time to wash up, so you decided to go on your phone and backtrack the chats and interactions that you had with your friend.

First, you went to your phone’s gallery, but you could barely find any pictures of the two of you, so you went to your cloud storage to dig for pictures dating back to more than a decade ago. You found screenshots of your chats with her, and you made yourself laugh as you reread the chaotic conversations you used to have. Your weak smile was instantly replaced with faint sobs as you let the thought sink in—that you were never going to have a chat with your friend again.

You almost jumped from the bed when you felt Jay’s arms sneak around your waist. With one hand, he gently took your phone away from you, setting it on the end table. He then pulled you into his arms, caging you completely. You could not muster a word out of your mouth, so you brought one of his hands to your lips and kissed it, leaving a tear-stained mark on the back of his hand.

---

You woke up to complete silence. The sun was already shining brightly, and you did not have to squint since the curtains in your bedroom were left closed. It took you a couple of seconds to register the faint noise in the background, seemingly coming from the kitchen. As you turned to look at Jay’s side of the bed, you found it empty, and you saw a note sitting on top of his pillow.

“Be ready for breakfast once you wake up,” it said.

Smiling to yourself, you shoved your blanket away and went straight to the bathroom to wash up. All you did was brush your teeth and wash your face and put on the quick version of your morning skincare routine. You changed into a new crop tee but left your pajama pants on, thinking that you look pretty enough from your torso and up.

Your slippers made a muffled sound and as you reached the kitchen, Jay turned around to face you. He gave you a big smile before plating the pancakes he just made on a plate for the both of you. You chuckled when you saw your plate with perfectly stacked pancakes and garnish that was obviously carefully put, while Jay’s plate had three stacks of pancakes that almost looked like the leaning tower of Pisa with the fruits haphazardly spread around the edges.

“Perfect timing,” Jay said, wiping his hands with a tea towel before taking his apron off. “Good morning, my love.”

You walked towards the counter but completely ignored the breakfast. Instead, you took a couple more steps to reach your husband and threw yourself into his arms.

“It’s always a good morning if I wake up to the sound of you,” you murmured, lips touching his neck. You could hear him chuckle softly.

“I’ve trained myself to be only slightly noisy if I wake up before you,” Jay replied. “Now let’s dig in.”

You shook your head, bumping it with his shoulder. Jay had to take a step back to look at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” You asked, tilting your head.

Jay smiled before pecking your lips. “Even if you don’t tell me, I already know.”

You hummed as you let him pepper soft kisses all over your face. “So can I still show you even if I don’t tell you?”

Now it was Jay who was tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

You sighed and shook your head gently. Then you placed a hand to cup Jay’s face and kissed him on the chin. “Take the hint, Jay.”

“Uhm,” Jay gulped. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt your lips trailing wet kisses along his jawline. “Okay.”

You both laughed at his awkward response but then Jay quickly silenced you with his lips. The way he kissed you with force made you arch your back, almost losing balance, but his arm was firmly wrapped around your waist. With every aggressive kiss that landed on your face, he took a step forward until he cornered you to the counter.

“Thank God our kitchen is huge,” Jay whispered, picking you up by your waist and making you sit on the counter.

You giggled and nodded, resting your arms on his shoulders. He stood between your legs and stared at you for a while, eventually making you blush and look away.

“My gorgeous, gorgeous wife,” he said, cupping your face and turning your head to face him again. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I could ask myself the same thing,” you replied. You did not blink as you grazed your lips along his.

When Jay latched his mouth onto yours, your hands immediately slid down his biceps and made their way to his abs, lingering for a second before you slipped one hand into his pants. He gasped slightly against your lips as he felt your fingers wrap around his hardened length.

“Good morning to you, Sir.”

Jay almost snorted at your remark, but he quickly set the mood again by resting the palms of his hands on your ass and squeezing them. You yelped at the gesture and buried your face in his neck to laugh wholeheartedly. Jay managed to find his way back to your lips, kissing you endlessly, passionately, like you were the only thing he needed to breathe in.

Everything else went by so fast but so slow at the same time, you felt. In mere seconds, Jay got rid of his pants and yours too, and the next thing you remember was him thrusting into you at a frustratingly slow pace. You wanted him to go fast, but you also wanted to savor every moment. You wanted him to go hard, but you also wanted to feel every part of your skin light up whenever he touched you, or whenever he twitched inside of you.

Jay kept the slow pace as he rested his forehead against yours. He was breathing through his mouth, and you could feel the air around you turn into his scent. His sweat trickled down his face, and you caressed his cheek and rested your hand there, closing your eyes while you bask in the feeling of being completely enveloped in his warmth.

Your moans were repetitive in his ear, but there was no sound that he wanted to hear more. The way you grabbed on his shirt and bunched the fabric in your fist just made him want to thrust into you more, to be deep inside you even more. He placed a hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you more towards him, and you wrapped your legs around his waist and latched your feet together, locking him in.

“Jay,” you whimpered, slowly losing your breath.

“I got you, baby,” Jay replied, kissing the back of your ear.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and felt him rut his hips into yours, and seconds later you felt the warmth of his cum coat your insides. Jay tilted his head to kiss your neck and suck your soft skin a little more intensely, sending you to your own high too.

You both stayed in the same position, panting almost in unison. When you felt him starting to pull away, you placed a hand on his back.

“Stay,” you whispered. “For a bit.”

Jay adjusted his position and placed his palms on the counter, lifting his head to look at you. His smile looked tired, so you gently caressed his face and brushed his hair back.

“Jay,” you began speaking in the softest voice you could muster. You saw his eyes lock with yours. “I need you to know that I’m yours. Heart, body, mind, and soul.”

Your statement was merely met with a blink of his eyes, so you decided to elaborate.

“I know I might not say it as much as you do, but I truly love you. And I might not show it in the same way as you do, and I don’t know why, but I try to, and…”

Your sentence was put to a halt because of your sealed lips. Jay pulled back from your lips with a smack.

“I know,” he said. “Believe me, I do. So don’t you worry.”

You had to fight back tears from streaming down your face again, so you pulled him into another hug. He took in your scent and breathed against your shoulder.

“I’m yours too,” he mumbled. “Completely.”

---

The next months, you swore, went by in the blink of an eye. The last quarter of the year was always the busiest period for almost any company, and it included yours. You were having back-to-back meetings, flights to cities you had never been before, and you also had to supervise a new group of interns that your staff had hired.

Jay was surely the most valuable person through it all. He always made sure you were taken care of, both at the office and at home. He also kept a close monitor of his own health, claiming that he could not take care of you if he was not in his best condition. He would forget small things occasionally, but you never gave him hell for it.

You found yourself more accommodating as well, saying yes to almost everything he suggests related to your best interest. You had been having fewer arguments, but more comfortable silences. All in all, the hustle and bustle of your daily lives somehow made your relationship even better.

Until that one fateful day, where you had to attend an important meeting that clashed with another scheduled meeting in your office. After a slight panic in rearranging things, you decided to delegate Jay to the meeting outside so you can handle the one in your building. Luckily, Yeji was right by your side to take over Jay’s usual position.

You were feeling off from the minute you woke up, but you tried your best to hide it because it was an important day. Jay had even more things to worry about too, so he wasn’t exactly as attentive as other days. In fact, you managed to breathe a sigh of relief the moment he told you he was leaving for the meeting.

The sharp stabbing feeling on top of your left eye did not wear off as you tried your best to focus on the presentation. Yeji glanced at you whenever you brought a hand to touch your forehead, and eventually you did it so many times that she just had to ask.

“Are you alright, Miss?” She leaned into you, trying to keep her voice low.

You nodded gently. “I think I need to use the restroom.”

The large meeting room was on the floor above your office, so it would take too long if you used your private bathroom. You turned your heels towards the women’s restroom, gently letting the door go and close behind you.

It took a while for Yeji to notice that you were taking a bit too long. She only noticed after the other attendees started getting restless because they expected to hear direct feedback from you. Yeji then quickly stood up and excused herself to go fetch you from the bathroom.

“Miss?” She called, pushing the door open.

You had your head down facing the sink, and your hands were grasping the edge of the counter so hard that your knuckles were turning white.

“Miss?” Yeji started to sound worried. “Miss, are you—”

Your hand slipped and you almost hit your head on the floor as you slowly slumped, but you could hear Yeji’s breath hitch as she desperately tried to reach you before you could hurt yourself.

“Miss!”

You were losing your vision, but you felt your head resting on Yeji’s lap. You heard Yeji saying that your lips were so pale and your hands were cold as ice. In the midst of her panic, and feeling her body rustle under you as she reached for her phone in her pocket, you could feel your consciousness slipping away.

“Park, please,” Yeji said into the phone, almost breaking into a sob. “She’s about to faint.”

You could hear Jay’s faint sound through the phone, asking about your location, and the next thing you knew everything was black for a short moment. When you opened your eyes again, Yeji’s lap was replaced by Jay’s, and before you could register anything else, you threw up all over his chest.

“It’s okay,” Jay muttered despite being worried sick himself. “I’m here, just let it out.”

You blinked several times and saw Yeji holding her phone and furiously typing on it as she stood by the entrance, also holding the restroom door open with her body. You looked up at Jay and you had never seen the type of expression he was wearing on his face.

He brought up one hand to your face to wipe the vomit off your chin, but he was clearly trembling. “Yeji,” he said before clearing his throat. “Medic?”

“On their way,” Yeji replied in an instant. “Should I—”

“I’ll carry her down,” Jay said, carelessly wiping his shirt with a paper towel that Yeji gave him.

“I’ll come with you,” she said after she was done typing on her phone.

Jay was now rushing, seeing that you had closed your eyes again. “Stay back and notify the people at the meeting,” he said, grunting as he picked you up in his arms. “In both meetings, actually. I had to leave mine too. I’ll meet you in the hospital.”

Yeji nodded and held the door open as wide as possible to let Jay pass with you in his arms.

---

The consistent sound of the repetitive beep on your left was what made you wake up. You blinked and looked to your side, only to find Yeji’s eyes widening as she slowly stood up.

“Miss,” she said softly. “Stay here, I’ll go get a doctor and find Park, okay?”

You gave her a faint smile and then chuckled to yourself. It wasn’t like you could move anyway. You had an IV drip inserted into your hand and your body still felt heavy. You stared at the ceiling for a while and then noticed that the walls were painted a nice shade of ivory, and a moment later you heard the sound of footsteps rushing towards the door.

Jay entered first, locking eyes with you instantly as he made his way to your side. He took your free hand and made you cup his face. He still looked worried, and you couldn’t tell if the sparkle in his eyes were tears that he was holding back or the reflection of the lights.

You were so focused on Jay that you didn’t notice the doctor speaking to Yeji on the other side of the bed. Their muffled voices slowly became clearer to you, and you were able to make out the last part of her sentence.

“…at least until the baby comes,” you heard her say, clutching the stethoscope around her neck.

You turned to look at Yeji’s direction and you felt Jay’s hand squeeze yours gently. “What?” You asked, the only word you managed to let out.

Yeji covered her wide smile with both her hands and looked at both you and Jay. There was a brief exchange of glances before Yeji and the doctor excused themselves, leaving you and Jay alone.

“You knew?” You asked Jay, watching him get comfortable as he leaned on the bed closer to you.

“I did have a short conversation with the doctor before you woke up. Before that, I didn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t notice the signs, my love.”

Your eyebrows began to furrow, and the grip you had on Jay’s hand began to loosen. Jay quickly reached for your hand with both of his, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“It’ll be okay,” Jay said. “We’ve got this.”

“It’s not what we planned,” you croaked. You could already feel the tears welling up again. In all honesty, you were not sure how to feel.

“We can adapt,” Jay replied. “It’s what we do best.”

You watched as Jay lifted your hand and gently brought it to his lips, kissing your hand and lingering for a while as he closed his eyes. You felt his breath on your skin, the warmth of his hands, and as he opened his eyes you knew he was happy, and that was why his eyes sparkled.

Trying your best, you reached out both arms towards him and he immediately scooted closer, helping you sit up to properly embrace you. You sobbed softly as you rested your head on his shoulder, and he calmly rubbed your back and your sides as he showered you with words of affirmation.

Once he was certain you had calmed down, he pulled away and kept his hands on your shoulders.

“Alright, love?” He asked, bringing his hand to your chin to tilt it up.

“Your shirt smells like vomit,” you replied weakly before turning your frown into a smile.

Jay chuckled silently and moved closer to leave a kiss on your forehead, and in that instant, you felt a thousand times better.

-END-

© forjongseong 2024, all rights reserved

The next day, exactly one week before finals week officially began, you and your friends decided to have a beach picnic to de-stress from the impending doom that was semester finals. It was your meeting place, ever since high school. Clad in a pretty yellow sundress, you entertained yourself with a sand-castle building contest between you and a few friends. Unfortunately for them, a course in urban design (which you shared with Jay Park) equipped you with just enough knowledge on how to build a killer sand-castle.

“Woah!” Isa, the one that you helped get with Jay’s friend all those years ago, exclaimed. You were crouched right next to her in the sand, using silicone molds to make sand seashells. Since junior year of high school, you and Isa have grown apart. It wasn’t the break up rift that caused the distance. In fact, you got closer because of the break up. People just grew on their own, and sometimes that growth was in opposite directions. Now that you were at the same university, you were still friends, but not as close as you used to be. “Specky, you’re really good.”

You grinned to yourself, melding the wet sand into a pillar. “I know.”

Even when your friendship thinned, there was one thing that made Isa distinct: the fact that she called you “Specky,” (short for “spectacles,” since you wore glasses) and no one else did.

“It’s what a course in urban planning and design gets ya,” you quipped, poking your friend with a sand-covered finger.

There were some things that you two disagreed about.

Like when Isa picked her major to be fashion design and apparel construction. Not the most useful or appealing to most employers unless she made it big, which was why you were so vehemently against it. Between the required courses in fashion design and political science (your own major), you argued that the latter would be much more useful. 

But that was two years ago, and now you joke about it.

“Yeah?” Isa cocked a brow. “But can you make leopard print look good?”

You smiled. “No, but I know how to pass a law that makes leopard print illegal.”

Isa nudged you playfully. It was supposed to be a light nudge, and it was. Except, your heads bumped together. After a bit of laughing and a few ‘sorry’s’ Isa stopped in her tracks, nose scrunching.

You glanced at her curiously.

Isa didn’t say anything, only leaning closer to you. This time, she pressed the tip of her nose against your exposed shoulder.

“Are you sniffing me?”

Isa only laughed before pulling back. You shot your friend a suspicious look. 

“You smell like someone.”

“Don’t I always smell like someone?” you molded the sand in your palm. “Like.. I dunno, myself?”

“Yes, but-” Isa leaned into you again. “You don’t smell like yourself.”

Before you could question her further, Isa called over a few more friends.

“Jake! Kazuha! Come smell Little Miss Specky!”

After having five whole people smell you, they all agreed that you smelled “un-[Name]-like” (whatever that meant).

Isa frowned, placing a thinking hand on her chin. “A-Ha!”

You watched amused as the woman jumped to her feet.

“I know who you smell like!” 

Isa threw an accusatory finger your way. 

“You smell like Jay!”

Jay Park knew there was something wrong when his toaster broke that morning. 

Him and his (your) friends were having a beach get-together, but you went first. He told you that he “had something to do for his job.” Probably easy to guess what he was actually doing.

He arrived at the outing an hour after you did. 

And the moment he stepped out of his taxi, there was an entire group of grown adults (read: his friends) charging at him. It wasn’t unnatural for this to happen, but it was what they were screaming and the person they were dragging along with them– You.

Except, when he made eye contact with her ,you looked away embarrassed.

And that was when he remembered the worst slip-up of his life.

“Yeah, I think Jay Park is in love with you. He tells me all about he’s liked you since freshman year and–”

Lying to you while being Spider-Man…. About how he, in his civilian form, liked you.

In his defense– he was panicking, okay? He didn’t know what to say! And he didn’t want to make it awkward either– ew, that would be so icky. 

Apparently making his enemy think that he was madly in love with her better than making the atmosphere awkward. When he went home yesterday night (that is, after dropping you back at his place and then making another round around the city so that you wouldn't suspect him), he almost jumped off a building without shooting a web to suspend himself. 

He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip.

Jay couldn’t make out any words they were shouting at him, other than your name, “fucking,” and “smell.”

“Okay, okay, shut the fuck up!” Jay finally yelled back at them. “All of you. Let me sit down first.”

When they got back to where all their other friends were, his friends sat him down, looking very serious, as if he was their teenage son who they caught drinking, or something.

“Why are you guys so serious?” he questioned suspiciously. 

“You know why!” one of his friends chided.

Jay really didn’t.

In the corner of his eye, he could see another one of his friends dragging you toward them. 

Dread. 

He could not face you after what happened yesterday.

Eyes narrowing, he turned back to them. “What is this about?”

“How ‘bout you tell us what you’re about?” one of them quipped. “Why does [Name] smell so much like you?”

What.

“Wait, what?” Jay’s lips curled. “What do you mean?”

“Let go of me, Jake!” Jake Sim finally managed to get you, who was kicking and screaming, to come over to where Jay was. You struggled out of his grasp. “Dude, I just want to build my sand-castle, Jesus fuck-”

When your eyes met with Jay’s again, instead of a glare or disgusted expression, you simply looked away awkwardly.

“[Name] [Last Name]!” Isa proclaimed. “Are ya gonna tell us why you smell like your sworn enemy?”

“I don’t know!” you shot your friends a glare. “What do I even smell like normally?”

“Sweet, kinda like an orange,” Jake answered matter-of-factly, smiling.

I would know that, thought Jay.

“And what does Jay smell like normally?” 

When Jay and you locked eyes, you knew the answer exactly. You both knew why you smelled like him, and it was an answer that was more complicated-sounding than it should be. 

You slept in his bed. Not because you slept together on his bed, but because he also used to sleep in that bed, so it was only natural that his scent wore off on you. You also used his shampoo and body wash. Not because you showered together (ew!), but because you lived in his house.

But if you told them that, there was no way in hell anyone would believe that there wasn’t some sort of relationship between you two.

“He smells like wood, but like, mixed with Axe body spray.”

“I do not!”

It was a silent agreement between Jay and you.

Act stupid.

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jay grumbled.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I knew you guys were stupid but I didn’t think you were that stupid.”

Jake and Isa sent each other suspicious looks, reconvening before a large grin spread across both of their faces. 

“I knew it,” Jake murmured. He got louder. “I knew it!”

Everyone looked at him curiously.

“What are you talking about–”

Swinging an imperious finger at Jay and you, Jake announced loud enough for surrounding people to hear and turn their heads. “These two are fucking!”

.

.

.

What?

The uproar that that single statement caused was uncontrollable. In your group of friends, it was common knowledge that Jay Park and [Name] [Last Name] had nothing to do with each other. If Jay was on one end of the spectrum, you would be on the other. Even suggesting that there may be anything more than simply hate was outrageous.

“No way, man….”

“That’s insane.”

“Impossible!”

When Jay looked over at you, ready to deny everything that they were saying, instead of your characteristic scrunched nose and curled lips in disapproval, your face was plastered with nothing but an awkward and almost embarrassed expression. 

“Y’know what?” one of their friends spoke up. “I saw Jay and [Name] kissing at the hockey mixer last week!”

You were completely out of commission, and uncharacteristically so, with a panicked and flustered face. Everyone else was consumed in such clamor. So Jay would have to take everything into his own hands. Taking a deep breath, he waited (while showing great disapproval) for everyone to shut up.

It wasn’t like they’d believe him if he explained the truth. 

“Are you guys done…?” he finally spoke, clear dissatisfaction in his voice. 

Everyone shut up. 

Jay Park was generally an easygoing guy. He didn’t snap at people, and if anything, he was often the butt of jokes. Not that he minded. He was hot-headed and an asshole, but he was probably one of the easiest people to joke with.

However, his censure was not something to mess with.

He was an older brother. He was a STEM major, which was already a rigorous department to go into, no less civil and urban engineering. He was the top of his class in high school (after a certain someone, of course), and ostensibly worked, like, three jobs.

If there was anyone who was normally very patient and smart, it was him. If he’s annoyed, probably shut the fuck up.

Plus, there was nothing like pissing off a tired college student a week before finals.

Jay wet his lips. “You guys are making [Name] uncomfortable. Look at her.”

It was true. You were literally cowering into yourself, frowning deeply and playing with the hem of your yellow sundress.

“Look, I get that you’re our friends, or whatever,” Jay huffed, folding his arms. “But maybe there’s a reason that we don’t tell you certain things. Maybe because everything gets so blown out of proportion and you guys assume the worst.”

He turned over to Jake. The scariest thing about Jay was that even if he was hotheaded most of the time, he was incredibly calm and laid-back when confrontational. “You– You especially. You constantly force [Name] and I together. Some people don’t get along, and that’s okay. Stop trying to force people who don’t want to be forced together.”

Jay wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even annoyed. Just trying to set things straight. When he was done, he looked at his friends expectantly. One by one, they apologized awkwardly.

There was no real resolution, just Jay saying, “Cool,” and walking away to talk to his other friends.

To say that you felt awkward would be an understatement, and to say that you were comfortable with the fact that you were feeling awkward would be a lie.

There was a lot to unpack.

Everyone was trying to suggest that you and Jay had some sort of sexual relationship. People always joked about it, sure, but for an entire group to accuse you of it was beyond disorienting. Now sitting under the parasol with a floral-print towel beneath your sundress, drawing shapes on the sand that had gotten onto the towel, you wished you could have said something. Sure, they were probably being light-hearted, and you knew your friends had no intention to make you feel uncomfortable, but there was something else they didn’t know.

That the number one source of your discomfort was directly from Jay.

When Spider-Man detailed everything that Jay had apparently told him about you, you didn't know how to feel.

According to Spider-Man, Jay Park has had a thing for you since freshman year of high school, and he keeps the hero up until early hours of the day just talking about you. Initially, you were horrified. Could Spider-Man be messing with you? There was no way that Jay Park– the bitch-faced, uncouth, uncivilized, villain that was Jay Park– liked you.

Just the thought that someone like him saw you in a different light made you uneasy.

On the other hand, you were a bit flattered. As Spider-Man explained it, Jay had a thing for you but not necessarily a crush. Rather, he found you attractive. 

“And he still does,” the hero had added. “He still thinks you’re attractive, even if he argues with you.”

Jay was the victim of some of your worst moments. You’ve screamed bloody murder at him, shed hot tears, and shrieked so hard that you’d lost your voice. He’d point out your major flaws and insecurities, ones that you didn’t even know that you had. He’d seen your true destructive, tyrannical, and malicious self.

But he still found you attractive? 

That was terrifying.

Has he ever seen you with your friends? How you were you soft and kind, all affectionate and tender? How you’d take care of them, how you’d pet their heads and listen to them cry?

How could he ever find you attractive if he’d never seen you be a good person, when he’d only seen the monstrous side of you?

How could anyone find you attractive?

You got positive comments about your appearance many times before, but they were always followed up by comments about your character

You were snapped out of your thoughts when a familiar dark head of hair passed through your line of vision. You never took the time to observe what he was wearing: basketball shorts and a hoodie. It seemed like he could never dress for the occasion, regardless of where he was.

He had his earbuds jammed into his ears, an irritated expression on his face. 

After years of purposefully trying to make his life miserable, you could read his face easily

Jay was hot. Physically– Wait no. 

Jay was hot, as in ‘affected by the scalding weather.’ His brows always scrunched up with his bottom lip jutting out when he was feeling especially warm. 

Maybe if he took off that hoodie of his for once.

You looked down at your hands.

You were under a parasol. 

Which gave shade. 

Which would make someone feel less ‘affected by the scalding weather.’

“Park!”

You never really thought that you would be the one to invite Jay Park to sit under a parasol with you. Especially after such events that transpired earlier.

It was silent.

Awkward.

Usually, you’d be able to look him straight in the eye, but now equipped with the knowledge that he may or may not have been attracted to you this entire time, you felt queasy.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

He had his eyes glued to the book that he was reading. Upon closer inspection, you knew that book. In fact, you had it.

It was Design of Cities: Revised Edition by Edmund Bacon. The textbook for your urban design course.

And he had the audacity to call you nerdo freak all this time! 

He only looked away from his book to glance at his phone. 

To change the song that he was listening to.

When you peeked at his phone screen, you noticed a familiar album cover playing.

Bright orange and blue, four men gathered around the table.

Then you noticed the white text right below it.

Supermassive Blackhole.

Before your mind could even think, your mouth moved for you.

“You listen to Muse?”

Jay took his earbud out of his ear, looking up at you slowly with a questioning look.

.

.

.

This scene has happened before.

“You asked me that already,” Jay said simply. 

“I-I know.” Why were you stammering? “Summer of freshman year. We were at the beach then, too.”

He cocked a brow at you, and just as he was turning back to his textbook, you continued, voice meeker than usual. “I asked you if you listened to Muse because I also listen to them. But you.. You thought I was making fun of you.”

Jay looked at you slowly.

Why were you shy?

He fingered the earbud that he had removed. You seemed to notice, bracing yourself for the slight embarrassment that would come with his shoving that thing back into his ear. Except, he didn’t. Instead, he presented it in his palm before you.

Was he… offering it to you?

“If you’re just going to stare at it–”

You snatched the bud from his palm, prodding it into your ear.

When the music played, you were met with Matt Bellamy vocalizing into your ear and that iconic, yet rough, guitar rift. Weird that the very song that you listened to when working out was the one that Jay used to study urban planning and design.

You watched Jay’s focused face. The scar on his nose got lost in the divots on his skin when he scrunched his nose, presumably in reaction to something he had read. You never really noticed the birthmark on his neck either.

The next song played, but before it did, Jay paused it.

“What are you looking at?”

You recoiled.

“You were looking at me,” Jay remarked. “Is there something on my face?”

“No, there’s nothing.”

“Okay.”

He caught a glimpse of the song playing before pressing ‘play.’

“You must love this song,” he muttered.

You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, until you were met with a distinct drum, rugged bassline, and the 4-on-the-floor beat.

Exo-Politics.

That was the name of the song. 

The song that was playing was called Exo-Politics.

You were a political science major.

Was he trying to joke with you?

Was the Jay Park attempting to joke with you?

In the corner of your eye, you could see some children building sand-castles, just like you had been doing earlier. You then peered at the textbook he was reading.

Design of Cities: Revised Edition by Edmund Bacon.

You bit your lip.

“Do you…” you began. “Do you want to see who can build a better sand-castle?”

A civil and urban engineering major and a political science major. 

Both were taking the same urban planning and design college course.

Who would build a better sand-city?

“What the fuck is that?”

“I’m going for a high-rise look!”

Maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea. 

Especially when it was two ‘nerdo freaks’ trying to out-wit each other.

“The housing density is insane.”

“That settlement looks squatter.”

“That looks unsustainable.”

“That neighborhood is just looking to get gentrified.”

At that comment, you, who were only a few feet away from Jay, grabbed a handful of semi-wet sand and hurled it at the man. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hey!” The glob of sand had landed on one of his ‘high-rise’ buildings. “I’m trying to say that your neighborhoods look poor.”

“Poor?!”

You went for a more sustainable look. Geometric layouts, charmingly sinuous roads, mid-height buildings with only a few clustered high-rise ones, concise zones of income, and clumps of wet sand littered all across the sand-city, imitating trees.

“Is that… New Urbanism?”

You patted your hands off. “Glad that you can recognize it, Park.”

The detail really was something to marvel at. Each building had a indents into their surface to imitate windows, the sandy ‘roads’ were strategically carved with a sharp fingernail to replicate the different uses of land, and even the globs of sand that represented trees were fluffed up to look like actual trees rather than miscellaneous globs.

Jay rolled his eyes, going back to shaping the pointed tip of his building.

Whereas your city was terribly idealistic, he went for a more true-to-life replica. After all, it was his job to study and create infrastructural pieces for real-life cities. High-rise buildings, strong geometric structures, high-density housing, narrow spaces between structures, and little open space. They were built with incredible precision: all the lines were perfectly straight, all the shapes were beautifully even on all sides, and it genuinely looked true-to-life.

“Your city looks like something that would need protection from Spider-Man.”

Ironic.

Jay sighed to hide the slightly-amused grin that you had elicited from him.

“You like Spider-Man?” 

Your face contorted, eyes squinting. “In what way?”

“Whaddya mean ‘in what way’?”

You frowned. “I mean, economically and politically speaking, he’s kind of a disturbance, dontcha think?”

Do you even like Spider-Man? Has Jay been misconstruing everything?

Did he technically kidnap you?

“He’s, like, more effective than other law enforcement, but that’s really a testament to him as a protector and how shit current law enforcement is,” you thought aloud. “I think he’s good.”

“Just good?

You frowned again. 

“Aren’t you his friend?” you changed the subject. Even in your strange uneasiness, you didn’t find it hard to maintain steady eye-contact with the man. Given the fact that you’d cussed him out using all swears under the sun while looking him straight in the eye.

Jay feigned surprise. “Yeah, he is. How do you know that?”

The man watched as your bottom lip was taken under your teeth. “He came by last night.”

Jay quirked a brow.

There was a pulse of silence between you two.

Not quite comfortable, but not exactly hostile.

Other than the sound of soft breathing, seagulls squawking and people laughing in the distance, and sea waves crashing against the sandy shore, it was completely silent. 

Dare Jay say, a nice moment.

“Jay, come play football with us!”

That’s right. 

Every time they’d go to the beach, Jay would play football with the boys. 

He wanted to play. 

But he also wanted to show you up in your sand-city competition. 

As he constructed another sand skyscraper, Jay slowly looked up. His eyes met with yours. You gave him a sharp nod, as if to say, ‘Go ahead.’

The man sighed.

Dusting his sandy hands off, Jay rose to his feet.

“I’m not done here, by the way,” he remarked as he passed your crouched form. “I can still make a better city than you.”

Jay felt a glob of sand flicked at his leg, he knew that the feeling was mutual.

Jay lost control of his spider-like abilities sometimes.

His fingers would stick implacably to papers if he wasn’t careful, he’d turn a door handle mindlessly and break it with his inhuman strength, or be acutely aware of the most miniscule of all dust specks flying close to someone’s face.

Sometimes, he’d use those abilities to his advantage.

Like right now.

Jay wasn’t cheating!

Just making use of what his body can do.

Fast reflexes to dodge those that would charge at him head-on, incredible (in a human way) running speed, and probably the greatest throws, like, ever.

When Jake Sim passed the red-brown ball in his direction, who was he to not use those spider reflexes and catch it with larger-than-life precision? As his eyes scoped around for who to pass to, he found the perfect person. Preparing, he raised his arm, squinting for accuracy. At once, he hurled the football.

Except, he found that he’d lost control of just how much strength he was putting into the throw. 

At top speed, it began shooting through the air, its pointed tip charging like a missile. As if it was in slow motion, gravity dragged the leathery ball toward the sandy ground. Like a rocket torpedo, the football flung straight into the elaborate city of sand sculpted by your very hands.

If it was any normal, human-strength throw, only a portion of the sand-city would be destroyed.

But because Jay had an obscene amount of strength, the ball not only destroyed the entire city, but dug so harshly into the sand that it exploded it– debris-like chunks of sand just bursting everywhere. And especially all over you and your pretty yellow sundress.

The earth must have stopped spinning, the sun shedding a single ray like a stagelight in a theater over your now frozen figure.  It wasn’t just Jay’s super hearing senses. It was like all sound at this bustling beach died out in an instant, zeroing in you.

You turned your head slowly. Your expression was completely vacant, but that spoke volumes. There was sand all over your face, so with a willful arm, you wiped all of it in a sharp swipe.

Even though he was several meters away from you across the beach, and even though there was no way of telling who threw the ball, Jay could feel your stone gaze right at him. You took a deep breath.

Jay ran to you.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. “I didn’t realize that it– the ball– was going your way– I–”

Everyone was ready to hear you shout your lungs out at Jay. In fact, Jay braced himself for the onslaught of profanities and obscenities that would be rightfully spewed at him.

But there was no yelling.

You breathed through your nose before rising to your feet and dusting off your sandy dress.

You looked at him.

“Thanks a lot, Jay.” There was a sliver of a smile spreading on your lips, but the way your teeth so clearly clenched together told a different story. You squeezed your eyes shut to conceal your bubbling anger, but you simply couldn’t take it. “It always seems like you ‘didn’t realize’ something all the time. But I’m not really surprised anymore.”

With that, flicked a piece of sand off your shoulder before snatching up your tote bag that was perched against the parasol and turning on your heel.

All Jay could do was watch your retreating back, football in hand, as you walked in the opposite direction away from him to the parking lot. 

He dug his nails into the leathery ball. Tearing his eyes away from you, Jay was about to turn back to his friends. 

Except, a massive crash erupted through the air.

With his spider-like reflexes, Jay snapped his head up. From behind the high-rise buildings and tall structures emerged a giant shadow. 

Almost immediately, in the distance, Jay heard cars honking, wheels screeching against the road, and screaming. There were mini fires in the distance from cars crashing.

As people scurried for their lives, the car smoke cleared, revealing a greater shadow in the distance. 

Six claws, seemingly mechanical and woven together with many tiny wires. Two antennas extending from the crown of the figure. Metallic body, with red and flashing accents.

Shit. 

He knew exactly who that was.

Doctor Discotheque.

Didn’t he fight him a week ago?

“Where’s Spider-Man?!”

Jay clenched his fist. 

He had to find a way to get into his hero suit without anyone seeing. Speaking of…

The man whipped his head around to where his friends were. Like everyone else, they were running for their lives. At least they were going in the opposite direction.

Clenching his fist again, Jay was ready to charge straight up to the supervillain, but his dark eyes incidentally caught onto the frozen figure of none other than you. You were completely frozen in your spot, unmoving as you gawked at the incredible size of the villain.

Damnit, [Name], Jay sucked in a sharp breath. It wasn’t abnormal for people to freeze in the face of danger, but he never thought it would be you. 

Shooting a web from his wrist, Jay retrieved a stray towel. In what was only a fraction of a second, he threw the towel over him before he changed into his Spider-Man suit. Fixing his mask, he discarded the towel.

The ground rumbled under his feet as Doctor Discotheque’s gigantic body terrorized the streets.

Jay’s feet immediately began moving, running toward your direction. As he approached her, he shot a sticky white web, sticking to your clothes back and effectively yanking you right into him. The hero threw you over his shoulder with an arm around your waist, and began running the other direction.

When you didn’t react, Jay gave a pat to your ass, the way a parent would do to their infant.

“Oi, [Name]!” Jay propelled himself off the sandy ground, discharging a few webs to allow him to swing. 

“S-Spider-Man?!” Finally, you snapped out of your dazed state. “What’s– What was that?!”

Jay tightened his grasp around you as he began climbing up a building. By now, he was far from where Doctor Discotheque was. Good for your safety, but not good for his own crime-fighting. 

“What, that big thing?” He felt you nod. “That’s just my good pal Doctor Discotheque.”

His tone was far too easygoing, and you audibly gulped.

“Relaaaaax, Angel,” Jay swung to another building. “He’s just a little villain. I beat him twice already. Nothin’ for ya to worry yer pretty head about about.”

“But he’s huge! And, you’re–”

Jay gave your ass another pat. “Just trust me on this, Baby.”

Finally, you reached the destination Jay had planned for you– the underground subway station. It was far enough from all the commotion for it to be calm, but just safe enough.

Jay placed you down. Despite all his reassurance, your face was twisted with concern.

You squeezed his shoulder, lips jutting out into a frown.

“I told ya already,” Jay knocked on your head. “Don’t worry about me.”

When you wouldn’t stop frowning, Jay flexed his bicep, placing your hand on it. With his hand over you, he squeezed his firm bicep.

“Ya feel that muscle?” you nodded slowly. “I’m strong. Spider-Man is strong.”

You stared at him.

“So you don’t hafta worry about me.”

Granted, Jay was talking to you the same way that he would talk to a crying six-year-old, but hey, it’s the principle of it!

“Just…” you took a deep breath. “Be careful.”

Jay unknowingly grinned. “Yeah, yeah.”

There was a pulse of silence between you two.

You looked up at him, with nearly glossy and wide eyes. You bit your lip.

“Before you go…” you murmured something under your breath. Abruptly, you grabbed Jay’s masked face, bringing it down so that he was eye-level to you. You pressed a quick peck to his cheek, before pulling back immediately. “Just…  Don’t do anything dumb.”

Jay stared at you, blinking a few times to absorb everything. He swallowed on his dry throat, licking his lips. Another wide grin spread over his face. 

“Of course, Gorgeous.”

Okkkayyy….

So maybe Jay was a bit of a liar.

According to the supervillain himself, Doctor Discotheque got access to some high-tech science shit and now had this supermassive mechanical body to control.

Just great.

Spider-Man was no wimp. He fought with all his might and was actually quite effective. Effective enough to damage Doctor Discotheque to the point that he ran away and yelled, “Damn you, Spider-Man!”

The only issue was that Doctor Discotheque was a little too strong for Jay to handle unprepared. 

The night was completely silent now. That is, if you didn’t count the police sirens and helicopters flying overhead, reporting on the incident.

There was an undoubted hush that fell over the city. The supervillain hadn’t done anything that was crisis-causing, but he was an unequivocal threat. According to the police reports, three people had died, while an entire block and a half of important infrastructure, including parts of the beach, had been subject to damage. The news, after collecting data, reported that quantitatively, 67% of citizens felt unsafe and were fearful of what was to come. Indeed, there was a threat.

And even worse, Spider-Man was injured.

Doctor Discotheque wasn’t lying when he said that he had “some high-tech science shit,” because one of his tentacle-like claws managed to stab Jay’s thigh. It was nothing fatal, but it was certainly debilitating.

“Ah– Shit.” Jay had to resort to climbing the walls instead of swinging around buildings. Before he entered his apartment complex, he made sure to tie a piece of cloth around his bleeding wound and change back to his civilian clothes.

When he cracked open his apartment door, he was surprised when you bombarded him with questions.

“Where the hell were you?” The you that Spider-Man knew was vastly different from the you that Jay Park knew. “We were all so worried– Shit– No one saw you, like, at all, at the beach– and you weren’t responding to any texts or calls– and–”

Jay blinked. 

“What were you doing all this time? You could have been killed, or injured!-- or– It doesn’t matter– Where have you been all this time and why haven’t you been responding to any of us, or–”

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Look! Even your brother’s worried sick!” 

Jay looked over at Wonnie, who was eating chips (and getting crumbs all over) and watching TV, completely unbothered.

“I, um,” Jay stared at you. Quick! How was he going to get out of this one? “I was– I was at my internship. We.. uh, We were studying infrastructure… as a result of the… Incident.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Was the studying so interesting that you couldn’t respond to any texts or calls?”

Jay fumbled with his phone that was deeply squashed in his pants pocket. “It was dead.”

It was now that he noticed the way that you were circling him, inspecting him like a hawk. It was a good thing that he changed into his civilian-wear, or else you'd see the cuts and bruises all over his arms, as well as the dirt and debris that had gotten into and onto his hero suit. 

“Oh my god, are you bleeding?!”

Jay looked down, and lo and behold, there’s blood dripping down his thigh, creating a puddle of dark red below him.

Maybe next time, he shouldn’t use a tiny piece of cloth to tie up such an absurd wound like that.

“Oh. I am.”

“?!”

And that’s how Jay found himself sprawled across the bathroom floor with one ear pressed against the bathroom door, listening to your voice on the other side.

“Is it bad?”

“Yeah, there’s blood everywhere.”

“?!”

He finally fessed up and admitted that he got stabbed in the thigh (with an appropriate excuse, of course). You were just going to leave it at that, snarkily saying, “Hope you know how to fix up a stab wound,” but when he responded with, “I don’t,” you grumbled under your breath and forced him to take a shower. You weren't exactly excited to see him naked and so bare (his thigh!) and neither was he, so your direction was all told behind a bathroom door.

It was a tedious task having to listen to you. 

But you were a tedious person.

Look for things in the wound like glass shards, disinfect it with alcohol, patch it up.

Except he couldn’t get past the second step.

“Shit, shit, shiiiiit,” Jay hissed. Rubbing alcohol burned.

“Park?” your voice resounded behind the bathroom door. “Are you okay in there?”

He fumbled with the various medical equipment. “Y-Yeah– It just kinda hurts.”

There was a silence.

“I’m fine.”

Behind the door, he heard you sigh.

“Put on some clothes, Park.”

“W-What?”

“You’re so fuckin’ incompetent that I need to help you. Put on some clothes so I can get in there, will ya?”

Now the two of you were sitting on the floor.

“Ow! That really hur–”

“Stay still then!” “I can’t when it’s burni– Ah.. Agh! It hurts!”

The wound was a lot worse than you had thought. Jay said that one of the interns dropped a saw knife on his lap, causing it to stab him. Honestly, you did not buy that story but it was the best he had so you just accepted it.

Unfortunately, this stab wound looked a lot worse than someone just accidentally dropping a sharp object onto his lap.

The two of you were now sitting on the cold bathroom floor, you in between his legs. Jay had shorts rolled all the way up, revealing his injured thigh. Other than the occasional hiss of pain, annoyed murmur, and sound of Wonnie’s TV channel in the background, it was completely silent. The early-summer night was only beginning to darken. If the night of the party was discounted, then this may have been the closest that you two have ever been.

Your delicate fingers against his skin, Jay sunk his teeth into his lip. Your glasses were at the very tip of your nose, almost falling off your face. He wanted to push them up badly, but decided against it. After all, you and him were not friends. Barely even acquaintances.

Well, you and him, a.k.a.  you and his civilian form, a.k.a. you Jay Park.

You and Spider-Man seemed to be great friends.

He wondered why you hated him so much. You got along well with Spider-Man just fine, and Spider-Man was probably the most free version of Jay there was. Was it just the very essence of Jay Park?

Thinking back to what happened earlier at the subway station, you were sweet. Too sweet. The sweetest that he’d ever seen.

Jay never thought that he’d look into your eyes and see genuine worry, concern.

The way you held onto him, those pouty lips, gleaming eyes that looked up at him like he was some god.

Jay’s lips parted unconsciously as he watched the way you were currently working between his legs. 

It would be a lie to say that Jay wasn’t, to some degree, attracted to you. He’s always been. Your [H/C] hair, those glasses that would delicately lay on your nose. Your mean words, nasty glares, critical eyes, and most strikingly, your wicked intelligence– they should have made him completely terrified of you, but for some reason, it only made him more attracted to you. 

Too many guilty nights were spent thinking about you, contemplating what he should say to you the next day to elicit a reaction.

Sometimes, at night, his mind would wander about what would have happened that night at the soccer mixer if Wonnie hadn’t called him. What would have happened between him and you? 

And when you kissed him earlier, he felt like a little schoolboy talking to a girl for the first time. Why was he so giddy?

He bit his tongue as you finished off your bandaging job.

He was going crazy.

Yes, you did indeed need to ask Jay Park for help again. Normally that would be embarrassing enough. But now it was another level of embarrassment.

A few days had passed since the incident at the beach, and someone had the wonderful idea to have a frat party. In the middle of the week. Which was what you (and by association, Jay) were getting ready for.

You and Jay agreed that you both would be taking your car to the party, but under the condition that you went in at appropriately-spaced times to avoid misunderstandings.

Jay’s version of “getting ready” was literally nothing. He wore what he always wore to parties. On the other hand, you actually dressed up.

The only issue was you didn’t have your friends with you, who would usually help you get ready.

Which was why you were now embarrassingly asking Jay Park to zip up your tiny red dress.

“C-Can you– just–” you had to cross your arms to keep the thin spaghetti straps from falling off your shoulders. Even so, in front of him, you felt like you were practically spilling out of the dress. “Can you just zip up my dress?”

How embarrassing.

Jay agreed to it with a silent nod, but you could feel his judgment boring into the back of your head. 

You felt his large hands ghost over your lower back before stopping.

“Move your hair.”

When you didn’t respond, Jay repeated himself. “Move your hair. I can’t zip it up if your hair’s in the way.”

“O-Oh.”

How embarrassing.

When he was done, you instinctively turned around to face him. When you were with your friends and they zipped up your dress, you’d turn around and ask, “How do I look?”

Unfortunately, Jay wasn’t one of those friends.

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment when Jay gave a questioning look, ready to turn around and scurry off. However, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes clung to your dress-clad body, and especially the way that he gulped harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

You couldn’t stop the self-satisfied curve forming on your lips.

“What?!” was the simultaneous reaction of Jay and you.

Inevitably, when you arrived at the party, you parted ways to go to your own friends.

“I don’t know how you could hate him,” a friend chuckled into your ear as you hung out in the billiard area, drinks in hand.

“Hate who?”

Another friend nudged you. “Y’know.. Jay.”

You grimaced. “What about him?”

The friend laughed. “Have you seen his arms?”

“No, I haven’t.” You frowned. 

Your friends shrieked, giving you a slap on the arm. “Christ, he’s, like, fine as fuck– oh my god, the lip piercing–”

The bespectacled you frowned again, taking a sip of your canned beer. “If you like him so much, you should tell him. His big ass head might like the attention.”

Your friends exchanged looks.

“Nah, I can’t do that.”

At that point, you weren't even paying attention, too focused on the pool game happening in the room. “Why not?”

“Because everyone knows that Jay Park is yours.”

.

.

.

“WHAT?”

Jay Park?

Yours?

?????

“He’s not-”

Your friend threw an arm around your shoulder. “Look, babe, we all understand. It’s pretty much an unwritten rule that Jay Park is reserved for you and you are reserved for Jay Park.”

You scowled, taking another long sip of your beer, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Your neck felt uncharacteristically warm. “But, we’ve never even shown interest in each other!”

Another friend put a hand on your shoulder. “Everyone sees the way he looks at you.”

“But that’s just him!” you crossed your arms. “I do not like him!”

There’s cheering in the other room, which you momentarily poked your head out of the room to take a look at. Meanwhile, your friends shared a look.

“[Name], Sweetie,” they smiled when you came back. “Remember when he got his first girlfriend? You were glaring daggers at her.”

“Because she was an objectively bad person!”

“Then why were you crying into my shoulder for hours because you randomly ‘felt sad’?”

“Because I was randomly feeling sad!”

“Right…”

Your friend sighed. “You guys are crazily oblivious.”

You spluttered.

Likewise, Jay was having a similar dilemma.

“Dude, I don’t care if you think [Name] is hot,” the dark-haired man crossed his arms.

His friends stared at him. “Uh. I think you do.”

Jay’s nose scrunched. “I don’t.”

“She always looks like she’s gonna eat you up–”

Jay leaned back on the sofa, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Yeah, which is why–”

“And you always look like you want her to eat you up.”

.

.

.

“That’s not true.” Okay, so maybe Jay Park knew that it was true. When you called him stupid or cursed at him, it may or may not have been a turn-on. He’s not weird. “She doesn’t even call me by my name.”

“Right, [Name] exclusively calls you Park.”

Another friend chimed in. “She wants your last name!”

“Wha–”

Another one spoke up. “She calls you by your last name because she’s waayy into taking it.”

“Okay, okay,” Jay muttered. “But even if I did like her, I don’t think she’s like me back.”

“We never said anything about you liking her…”

.

.

.

“I’m leaving.”

He didn’t end up leaving. In fact, he and his friends ended up in the hallway bedroom along with an entire group of other people. Including you and your own friends.

“Let’s play truth or dare!”

The moment that that fuck-faced, son of a bitch Jake Sim reached for the glass Heineken bottle and gave it a spin, Jay knew he was doomed. Because the bottle landed on you yourself. And the mischievous look on his face told the room everything they had to know.

“[Name], I dare you to play 7 Minutes in Heaven with Jay!”

That’s how Jay Park found himself sitting face-to-face with you in a stuffy closet. 

Awkward.

Outside, you could hear the muffled voices of your friends, giggling amongst themselves. It was deathly silent in the closet, so quiet that Jay’s ears rung with static. Despite this, your eyes were not shy; steady and unwavering eye-contact was always the way for Jay and you, no matter the situation.

“Are they gonna kiss?!” someone whispered not-so-loudly on the other side of the door. You, staring dead into his eyes, cocked a brow, your lip twitching. 

“Six minutes!” someone shouted outside.

Jay was uncomfortable. You probably were, too.

How could he lighten up the mood?

Well, he’s comfortable with you when he’s Spider-Man, and vice versa. What’s something Spider-Man would say?

“You look great tonight.”

Good one, Spider-Man.

Your brows furrowed together, your entire face scrunching. Just as Jay was about to pray to the sky for the ground to swallow him up, you opened your mouth. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, and for the first time since you got into the closet, averted your gaze from his. Your eyes dropped, before using your foot to nudge him. “Nice socks, Park.”

That’s right, tonight he was wearing… Spider-Man socks.

Oh man, he looked like a weirdo.

Jay chewed on his bottom lip. 

When he glanced over at you, for the first time ever, instead of feeling indignation or irritation, he felt something adjacent to admiration. 

Jay had seen you for every one of your embarrassing phases. And when he looked at you now, those dark and curly mascara-laden lashes, glossy pink lips, and shimmery eyeshadow lining your eyes, he only realized then how gorgeous you were. You had always been attractive to him, and he’d always known that. But now you were seriously beautiful. 

There was no doubt that you put effort into your appearance. He was stupid, and he knew he was, to indulge in the idea that, perhaps, you dressed up for him.

On your end, your heart was hammering in your chest. Which was weird. Because that only happened when you were nervous. And what was there to be nervous about when it came to Jay Park?

“Five minutes!”

Your friends’ words rang in your head.

Was Jay Park really that attractive?

He had honey-gold skin, strong and sharp features, tousled dark hair, and a pierced lip. If you looked past his smug expression when he got what he wanted or that slightly-pathetic look in his eyes when he didn’t, you supposed that he could be attractive. 

You glanced at him. His distracted gaze, pointed at the carpeted floor below their feet, was almost daunting.

Was there something between you and Jay, something that neither of you knew about?

If someone asked you that question years ago, you would have punched them square in the face for asking such a dumb question.

But now you didn’t know.

You would be lying if you said that you never thought of Jay Park in a different light. As much as you hated to admit it, there were times where you questioned your attraction to him. It wasn’t like he was going around charming you with physical affection. 

Instead, it was small actions.

Rolling his sleeves up, his large hands littered with rings, the bruises along his knuckles and splinters and cuts along his fingers because of his engineering workshops, licking his lips, that little side smirk he’d do when satisfied with himself, when he’d quirk his brow at you, when he’d correct people, when he’d speak academically, when he’d help people in class.

You were so immersed in thoughts that you didn't notice the way Jay was outright staring at you. 

You were only pulled out of it when you felt a finger push up your glasses.

Surprised, you jerked back, eyes looking up at a just-as-surprised Jay.

“I’m sorry,” Jay blurted almost immediately. “Your glasses– they were falling down your nose, so I–”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your ears prickle with heat. Sheepishly, you pushed up your glasses, holding onto the rims as a way to hide your embarrassed face.

“I’m so sorry,” Jay rambled. “That’s so weird and I shouldn’t have and–”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted. You pushed up your glasses again.

Another silence fell over you, this time, even more tense. Until Jay broke the silence.

“How did we even start hating each other?” 

You cracked a small smile. “You don’t remember?

“No, I do,” Jay said. “I just feel like there were so many opportunities for us to become friends. We just never did.”

“I guess.”

There’s another pulse of silence.

“I don’t hate you, by the way,” you mumbled. 

“You don’t?”

“I mean, at least I don’t think so.”

“Then I don’t think I hate you either.”

“Thanks.”

Jay almost laughed. “‘Thanks?’”

You shrugged.

Your eyes met, staring into each other’s eyes for a few moments before a bashful expression spread across Jay’s face. “Y’know, I stopped talking to Taehyun after you yelled at me.”

Your lips parted. “Why?”

Jay scoffed, his brows knitting together in an attempt to explain himself. 

“I dunno. I guess you..” he trailed off. Again, those wide and glossy eyes that looked at him. This time, though, instead of gazing at him as if he was some god, you watched him as if he was a book, trying to read him. “You beat some sense into me.”

“Three minutes!” someone shouted. From outside, there were giggling and fake kissing noises.

You two shared a small laugh at your friends.

The remaining 3 minutes were quiet.

College student stress was no joke. That coupled with a pinch of sexual and housing frustration, and the result is a drunk you.

You really didn’t mean to drink so much tonight, but everything seemed to become a much bigger problem when on a dance floor next to a whole bunch of sweaty bodies, so why not drink your problems away?

Currently, you were on top of a guy, who was equally as drunk as you, in the guest bedroom of the frat house. Tangling your hands in his hair, you smashed your lips against his. Whoever you were kissing was a messy kisser– He shoved his tongue into your mouth, aggressively exploring every crevice. His kisses left your lips swollen and pouty, pink lip gloss leaving pretty residue at the corner of his lips. Cold metal pressed into your bottom lip– it must have been a piercing. It should have hurt, and it did, but the foreign and cold pain only made the kiss even better.

Meanwhile, his hands roamed.

Would it be a good time now to mention that the guy was Jay Park-- just that both of you were too drunk to even notice each other? For the second time.

Jay's large, ring-covered fingers gripped your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. With each passionate kiss, he pulled your hips against his, before sliding his hands down to your ass and giving it a squeeze, earning a squeal from you. 

You finally pulled away from each other only to catch a breath of air. You, with puffy lips and blown-out eyes, shifted in the man’s lap; you shoved your knee between his thighs, while your hands grasped his hair to tilt his head, giving you access to his neck.

Pressing wet kisses along his honey-gold skin, you took in his woody scent. Your fingers, laced harshly in his soft locks, pulled on his hair.

“Fuuuuuck,” Jay groaned. 

You gave his hair another harsh tug, pressing your lip directly against his neck– right at the crook where his jaw met his neck. You swiped your tongue over his skin. Grinning to yourself, you graze your teeth against him, before sinking them in and giving his plush skin a soft suck. He gasped.

“You like that?” you breathed in his ear. He shuddered, nodding quickly. 

Unsatisfied, you sank your teeth into his skin again, sucking harshly this time. “I wanna hear you fuckin’ say it.”

“Yes– shiiit–” your lips moved to the crook of his neck. Jay threw his head back, sighing loudly. “Fuck, I like that.”

Even under the dim bedroom light, when you pulled away,you could admire the red-purple marks left on his skin, along with the slight shimmery sheen of lip gloss left. Just when he thought it was over, you ran your tongue along the bruises that you left, pressing the sensitive skin. 

You ran a pedicured hand up his chest, before pushing him down so that he was lying flat on the soft bed. Currently, you were completely straddling his thigh, so you threw a leg around him so that you would be straddling his hips.

In your drunken stupor, you couldn't make out his features, other than a sharp nose and dark hair. Jay's hands came up to grip your hips once again, rocking yours against his just slightly and letting out a desperate cry.

You ran your nail along Jay's neck, admiring the marks you left.  You grasped his chin, shaking it side-to-side. “Uh-uh. Not until I say so.”

Yanking the hem of his hoodie, you pulled it up, revealing a toned and tanned stomach. You graze your nails against his skin, biting your lip.

“Raise your arms,” you slurred. He sat up and complied, so you pulled his hoodie over his head. With him still sat up, you pulled Jay close so that your chests were pressed right against each other.

Once again, you smashed your lips against his, engaging in another heated make-out session. Your nails dug into Jay's biceps, while his hands roamed your body– squeezing your ass, grazing your thighs, and tugging at the thin spaghetti straps of your dress.

“Take it off,” he whined against your lips, pawing at your dress. “Take it off, please.”

You chuckled, amused. You grabbed his chin. “What did I say earlier?”

“Please, please, please,” he begged, completely ignoring what you said.

You slammed your lips against each other, pulling him by his face. The room was filled with the sound of lips colliding with one another, and occasional whines and pleas.

Both far too intoxicated to focus on anything other than your desire, you didn’t notice the sound of footsteps and laughter approaching the guest bedroom.

“And I was like–” the door clicked open. “OH MY GOD–”

Why does this keep happening? 

The last time Jay went to a frat party, he nearly hooked up with you and got cockblocked one way or another. Last time, it was his kid brother. And now his friends.

As he ran out of the frat house (of course grabbing a water bottle and chugging it to sober up), searching for you, Jay couldn’t help but feel a harboring sense of disappointment and shame. His cheeks burned against the cool night air, his eyes glossy and watery with the initial surprise and now, shame. He tried to blink back the tears that were beginning to line his eyes, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

When two of your friends bursted through the doorway, the two of you were completely frozen. Jay was too drunk to even comprehend what was happening, but when he heard “[Name],” everything came back to him.

You didn’t seem to realize it was him either until you heard his name.

And the moment that you did, your face grew red, morphing and twisting. As crystal tears began to fill your eyes, you began hitting and punching Jay. Maybe he was too drunk to understand, or you were too drunk to generate coherent words. But he couldn’t understand anything that you said.

Not until you let out a loud sob, yelling, “I hate you, Jay Park.”

You jumped off of him, running out of the room, pushing past the group of friends that had formed a mini-crowd around the doorway. 

You must be disgusted with him. He was a fool to think that he could even have a chance with you.

Humiliated and disgusted with himself, Jay watched as you ran off into the night. His heart sank to his knees, an uneasy and nauseating feeling settling in his stomach. As his heart calmed down, Jay lowered his head in humiliation, unable to even face himself.

You said that you didn't hate him, but you surely must now.

Just as he was about to run back into that frat house and drink himself dead, he realized one very crucial thing: where the fuck was you going?

You were drunk. And crying. Even if you hailed a taxi, there was no way of knowing that you'll be safe.

Sucking in a sharp breath from his heavy breath, Jay looked down at his hands.

God, he was so ashamed of himself. He would love– and truly, love– to go drink until he was shitfaced drunk again. There’s no way that he could look anyone, and especially you, in the eye after this. He felt disgusting. Nasty. He must be a repulsive person.

But there was no way in hell that he was going to let a drunk and vulnerable woman run around the city late at night.

Which was why Jay found himself pulling the very woman that crushed his soul close under a street lamp. 

Of course, as Spider-Man. 

Luckily, you hadn’t gotten in a taxi yet. He found you sitting under a street light, crying. His heart ached, wrenching in his chest. 

Standing over you, he extended a hand.

“Let me take you home, Angel.”

Even with all the shame that befell over him, Jay was gentle with you. Even though you were the source of all his troubles, he couldn’t bring himself to treat you as anything less. In his heart, you were still the you that he knew (and loved).

Crouching down, he pushed your hair out of your face, running a thumb over your wet cheek to wipe away your tears. Patting your head, he couldn’t help but coo at your pouty face. 

He didn’t like to see you cry like this.

When Jay cupped your face, you grabbed his wrist, nuzzling your cheek into his warm palm.

“Please,” you whispered.

And who was he to refuse you?

You cried into his neck the whole way home. In a way, Jay felt like a fraud. The same person that ran you away from was the one holding you. If you knew who Spider-Man was, you’d run, too. 

“Don’t wanna go inside,” you murmured into his ear once they arrived at his apartment.

Jay stroked your hair gently. “Why not?”

“Because,” you sobbed. “Because— it’ll r-remind me of him.”

The hero frowned. “Of who?”

You cried harder. “Jay—“ you stopped yourself, only holding onto him tighter. 

“[Name],” Jay whispered against the shell of your ear. “How ‘bout I stay with you out here?”

You sniffled, glassy eyes shining in the bluish moonlight. You nodded your head profusely. Much to your surprise, Jay launched the two of you up onto the roof of the apartment complex. When you looked at him sheepishly, he simply muttered, “I go here when I want to clear my head.”

Ten minutes later, all of which were just filled with you sobbing in your drunken glory, neither of you wanted to leave your current position: Jay sitting cross-legged and you on his thigh so that he could see your face. The whole time, as you cried, Jay stroked your hair, occasionally whispering a few words of reassurance in your ear.

As you calmed down, Jay cupped your cheek. You must have been beginning to sober up, because you resisted his touch, pulling away to hide your face. 

“[Name],” he said against the shell of your ear, delicate fingers grasping your chin. “[Name], look at me.”

Rich from someone who could barely look you in the eyes right now.

“Nooo,” you whined, bringing a stray strand of hair to cover your eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”

Jay cracked a grin under his mask. “What’s there to be embarrassed about?” you didn't respond. “Yer embarrassed about crying in front of Spider-Man?”

“Am not!” you shot at him, but the way you continued to hide your face told Jay everything he had to know. “H-Hey!”

Jay forced your face to turn to his. He ran his thumb across your cheek, caressing your puffy and tear-stained skin. “Talk to me, Gorgeous.” Your lips pursed into a pout. “What happened? Did someone do something to make you cry? Do I gotta fight someone?”

Yeah, yourself.

He knew the answer to that.you were going to cry again, wail about how much you hated Jay Park, how disgusted and horrified you were with Jay Park, how it was him, that bastard of a man, that made you cry. Jay knew he wasn’t emotionally prepared for what you were going to say, but he wanted to hear it from your lips for some reason. He would at least gain some closure, even if it meant rubbing salt into the wound before he was going to inevitably beat himself up over it later.

But to his surprise, you shook your head. 

“No one did anything,” you sniffled.

“B-But–”

You looked down at your hands sadly. “It was my fault.”

How could it be your fault? Jay was certain that it was his.

“I’m such a bitch,” you breathed. “He… H-He didn’t even do anything– I– I wanted him– so bad– But I pushed him away…”

Jay tightened his hold around you. “What… What are you talking about?”

“If I talk about it, I’ll start crying again,” you murmured. When Jay gave your head a soft pat, whispering, “I won’t make fun of ya if you do,” into your ear, you took a deep breath. You turned over your shoulder to gaze at him. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone though.”

It wasn’t like Jay heard you say that though.

Because he might have been too fucking enraptured by you.

The yellow-marble moon shone behind her, giving you an ethereal backlit glow. Even so, the lights of the bustling city reflected off the sparkling luster of tears collecting in your wide eyes. Your hair was endearingly disheveled, and your nose and ears were getting sensitive from the cold night air. You were probably the loveliest person he ever-

No. He should stop.

Jay extended a pinky finger. “Promise.”

You sucked in another deep breath, fiddling with the hem of your dress. 

“Me and Park… We got drunk and almost…” you trailed off, hoping that he would get what you were trying to say. He hummed, signaling that he did. You opened your mouth to continue, but frustrated, shove your face into your hands, letting out a whimper. “And then… our friends walked in on us– And– I just– Felt so embarrassed.”

Embarrassed.

That word stung.

Your eyes began to quell, and the wet sniffles started again. “I got angry, I got so– Fucking angry– and I just began yelling and h-hitting him–” you cut yourself off with a sob, to which Jay squeezed your hand.

He let you cry into his shoulder.

“He– He–” you sobbed. “He looked so hur– hurt. A-And that’s why I-I’m crying!”

Jay sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. He urged you on, rubbing circles on your back. 

You used the back of your hand to wipe your tears. “J-Jay–” His ears perked up at the sound of his name. You almost never called him by his first name. “Jay-fucking-Park makes me feel so-”

Jay braced himself.

“-weird. I-I thought I hated him… B-But–” you squeezed Jay’s hand– “I…. I think I.. I…Ugh!”

You smashed your wet face into Jay’s shoulder in frustration. In his complete and utter bewilderment (you truly didn’t hate him?) Jay let out an airy chuckle. Feeling his chest rumble, you groaned, giving him a smack.

“Y-You said you wouldn’t l-laugh!”

Jay stopped, giving your head another pat. “Sorry, sorry. Ya said that Jay makes you feel weird? Whaddya mean by that?”

You ran a hand through your hair. “Tha- That’s the problem: I don’t know!”

You looked up at him helplessly, grappling onto his wrist. “Help me, Spider-Man!”

Jay let out another airy chuckle. “I mean, how do ya feel around him?”

You glared at him incredulously. “H-He– I normally d-don’t feel anything!-- But re-recently I feel… Hot.”

“Hot?”

“Like, like I’m about to b-burst!”

Jay studied your face. “Do… Do you just hate him?”

“I-It’s not hate!”

“Then I don’t know!”

“Spiiiider-Maaaan!”

He didn’t want to say it. Even suggesting it was probably too emotionally-wrecking for the two of you.

“Do you… have a crush on him then?”

You flopped over him.

“?!”

With your body thrown over his shoulder, you shoved your face into your hands, letting out a drawn-out groan. There’s a pulse of silence. 

Jay clenched his fists. There was a lot to take in. It could be the alcohol lingering in his system, or the overwhelming emotions he felt, but he genuinely could not process anything right now. He’ll sleep on it. All he knew was that he was on-edge.

You responded to his question with an inaudible, muffled, mumble. 

From the way that you stilled against him, not even uttering a sound, it must have been an utterance to yourself, something that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

You clearly didn’t want to confront it, so he won’t force you to.

With little thought, Jay frowned while he traced shapes against your thigh, while you were still sniffling away. You two sat in a comfortable silence, soaking in the moonlight.

“Did you just draw a poop?” you blurted.

“Yeah,” Jay replied. His gloved finger, laced with mischief, traced another figure– consisting of two circles and a long tube.

“I don’t even want to say what you just drew!”

Jay snorted. Wrapping his arms around your hips, the hero hoisted you up momentarily, before lifting you off his shoulder and onto his lap. It was only when you let out a short squeak when he realized that your legs were now draped on either side of his hips.

He deadpanned.

This scene has happened before.

But instead of you pushing him away and punching his chest, you simply giggled, cold hands coming up to grab his masked face. Jay was startled when you pulled his face closer to yours.

“[Na–”

You tried to squeeze his cheek under the mask. When you felt plush, warm skin, your face lit up. “Woahhh!”

“Why’re you so surprised?”

You squished his masked cheek again. “You’re real!”

Another thing about you that enamored him: your naïvete and nearly innocent nature (but only sometimes, when you weren’t trying to kick his ass).

Jay chuckled. “Of course I am. Didja think that I was fake?”

You hummed. Then ,you cupped his cheek, before pedicured fingers slithered toward the juncture between his ear and neck. You fingered the cloth there. Jay’s breath caught in his throat.

“I’ve always wondered who’s behind this mask,” you thought aloud, caressing his neck. Your voice was low and light, like a whisper.

Jay felt like a middle school boy; he was getting nervous just by how close you were to him. He could smell your perfume, and even your breath against his neck. His heart hammered in his chest.

“You…” he rasped, voice deep. “You don’t wanna know.”

“But I do!” you giggled. “Do I know you in real life?”

“Err… I can’t answer that.”

“Awwww.”

You stared at him, before cracking another grin. “I don’t care who you are in real life. I’d still be your friend.”

Jay quirked a brow. He slunk his arm back around your waist, pulling you in closer. 

“What if I was someone you hated?” he murmured. His dark eyes locked onto yours. Such an indulgent question. He was opening himself up to get hurt, but for some reason, he didn’t care.

“I wouldn’t care,” you breathed. “I’d love you either way.”

He knew that was a lie.

That night, you fell asleep in his arms up on the rooftop.

When he snuck back into his apartment, he placed you down on his bed, tucked you in, and whispered, “Good night, Pretty.”

The moment that he shut that bedroom door, Jay felt weak to his knees. His heart rate was picking up, nose suddenly becoming runny. He was in the middle of chanting, “Don’t cry,” to himself when the first tear rolled down his face.

A hand reached up to clasp his mouth tightly as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t wake you or Wonnie up.

Jay didn’t know how long he cried sitting with his back against the bedroom door, but when he was done, he felt dizzy.

Jay went on an early morning patrol.

He didn’t get much sleep, but that sleep was indeed helpful in clearing his mind.

As he swung from building to building, occasionally scaring off criminals and sketchy people alike, his mind was occupied with thoughts about last night. It was hard to rationalize last night, and while it still was hard, the cool morning air kissed his cheeks just enough to give him the calm to think.

Okay, so, she doesn't think I’m disgusting, I didn’t actually do anything wrong, she was just embarrassed. I make her feel weird, and she might actually hate me. She says that she would still love me if I was… me, but like, “me” as in “Spider-Man” and the other “me” as me, Jay Park, and–

God, this was frustrating.

Even if you didn’t blame him, there was no way he could face you or any of your friends as Jay. His friends were blabbermouths. Everyone and their mothers probably knew by now the events that transpired.

His anguish built up. So much so that even when Jay was disarming a knife-bearing mugger, he couldn’t bring himself to make a few snarky remarks. His body was moving on its own, jumping around and soaring through the air. His mind was in a world of its own, running and drilling with little break, just mulling over all the possibilities.

He didn’t notice the time (three hours later) until all the delis and flower stores began opening up for the day. Plopping down onto one of the hedges on top of a building, Jay only realized how out-of-it he was; his legs were plagued with an abnormal ache, and his chest pushed out air using labored lungs.

Jay pulled off his mask, letting the cool air hit his face. He took a deep breath, peering down at the quiet bustle beginning to spread throughout the city.

He was about to sit there and contemplate, probably reflect on himself or simply relax. 

However, an ear-splitting ringing sound cut through the air.

Beep beep!

“Shit,” he muttered, slipping his phone out of the seamless pocket attached to his suit’s leg. “Whaddya need, Wonnie?”

“Mayday, mayday!” his brother whisper-yelled into his ear.  “Code red! I repeat: code red!”

“Why’re you whispering?” Jay jumped to his feet. He sensed the urgency in Wonnie’s voice on the other line, slipping back into his mask. “What happened?”

“I’m at school right now,” Wonnie hissed. “It’s your girlfriend!”

The man prepared for mobility, rubbing his wrists. “I don’t have a girlfrie– And why are you calling me at school right now?”

“Aghh!” Wonnie cried. “It’s [Name]!”

“Did something happen to her?” Jay’s voice immediately switched to a serious tone. He flexed his muscles, suddenly becoming hyper-alert of his surroundings. His eyes scanned the surrounding area. 

Jay heard fumbling on the other side of the phone, presumably Wonnie almost getting caught by a teacher or something. “Okay, okay. Downtown– the skyscraper along the greenbelt– yes, that one! Doctor Discotheque; I think he’s hanging her!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jay grumbled. 

He was on top of a retail store. If Jay’s urban design professor was correct, then there should be a big stretch of apartments in the next few hundred kilometers. In the center should be the CBD. The only issue was that those apartments were dense. If he wants to drill past them in time, then he would need to be quick.

With just his enhanced spider-sight, Jay could see all those hundred kilometers ahead, straight to the central business district. Doctor Discotheque was standing at the top of the downtown skyscraper, and apparently he ditched the massive mechanical body that the “high-tech science shit” gifted him. Instead, the supervillain wore a sleek spandex suit. Doctor Discotheque was laughing villainously, because next to him was a crane hanging right at the edge of the building. The silhouette that was dangling from the crane was you yourself.

Jay heaved. 

Let’s fucking do this.

“Spider-Man did it better, by the way.”

“If you keep talking, I will drop you off the side of this building.”

You couldn’t even be surprised anymore. Somehow getting kidnapped by a supervillain was less outlandish than making out with you enemy twice.

This morning, when you were just starting to leave for class, the window shot open, revealing a goofy-looking villain in purple spandex that he totally didn’t rip off of Spider-Man. Seriously, it was the tackiest outfit ever. He had a sparkly panel as a recurring design motif and it seriously was not good.

Nowy ou were suspended 400 meters in the air, with your feet fastened to the lift of a construction crane. You crossed your arms over your chest. 

You should be scared. You really should. For God’s sake, you were dangling upside down over a busy road from an unsteady crane on top of a building that was 400 meters tall. 

But the sight of a supervillain wearing a sparkly suit was too unserious. If there was anything to be afraid of, it would be Doctor Discotheque’s little villain costume.

“Nice outfit, Sparkle Boy.”

And besides, you knew that Spider-Man would save you.

Doctor Discotheque ignored your not-so-subtle jab at his suit, too busy scanning the sky for a certain red and blue - clad superhero.

In fact, that really pissed you off.

How dare he, a sloppily-dressed, dilapidated-looking, old geezer, kidnap you and threaten your life? And when you tried to talk to him, he just ignored you? Such a poorly-designed supervillain. 2/10 from you.

“Hey!” you yelled from where you were dangling. “Hey, you! Purple Wurple!”

Doctor Discotheque ignored you again.

You huffed. “You motherfucker! How dare you ignore me!”

Nothing from him.

“Hey, answer me! Doctor Disgusting!”

Finally, the supervillain snapped his head at you.

“It’s Doctor Discotheque, not Doctor Disgusting,” he spat.

You snorted. “It’s a good thing you became a supervillain, and not a villain-namer, because wow, ‘Doctor Discotheque’ might be the worst deed you’ve ever committed.”

Doctor Discotheque narrowed his eyes at you, before a wide smirk spread across his face. “I had higher standards for Spider-Man.”

When you glared at him, he continued.

“I can’t believe he could date such a wretched person like you.”

“Date?”

“You seem more surprised at that than me kidnapping you,” Doctor Discotheque muttered. He observed your scrunched expression, his grin widening. “I saw you and Spider-Man getting cozy last night on the rooftop. Never knew that he would go for a woman as insufferable as you.”

“Hey, we’re not–”

“And, if you don’t shut your mouth,” the villain spoke through tight lips, “I’ll throw you off this building.”

Before you could retort, the man’s hand reached for the remote console that controlled the crane. Gloved hand palming the joystick, Doctor Discotheque let out a low chuckle, before giving it an experimental pull. Immediately, the lift of the crane shakily lowered.

“H-Hey–!”

He played around with the controls, philandering around as if it was some kind of children’s toy.

“You– You little bitch!” you, though shaky from the mobility, yelled. “F-Fuck you and your sp–sparkly spandex!

Doctor Discotheque let out another low chuckle, before pressing a button. You weren't sure about the mechanics of a crane remote console, but it started shaking the lift from side to side. The crane must have been old, because the parts were moving so shakily. The lift was quite literally rocking in the sky, swinging you around slowly.

“One more word from you, and I’ll be releasing you,” Doctor Discotheque mused. “And by the way, it’s not spandex. It’s lycra.”

You were seriously considering shutting up. Your stomach did flips now that you looked down at the vast expanse of the city below you. The sound of cars rushing across the road, as well as the distressed crowd that was now gathering under the skyscraper, police cars with their loud sirens, and camera shutters did not calm you in the slightest. It was a miracle that your glasses were still intact at this point.

And still, Spider-Man was nowhere in sight.

Wait.

Spider-Man.

Your eyes flickered toward the villain.

There must be a reason that Doctor Discotheque kidnapped you. Other than the fact that he was, in fact, a supervillain, there must be another reason for his evildoing.

Why would someone want to kidnap a broke college student, unless there was something to gain from it?

There truly was only one thing notable about Doctor Discotheque, other than his horrible costume. And it was that he had major beef with Spider-Man. Unfortunately for him, Doctor Discotheque let it slip that he thought you and Spider-Man were dating. 

It was a perfect plan.

Use Spider-Man’s girlfriend against him.

The only issue was that Spider-Man had not yet arrived on the scene yet. Heck, no one even knew if he knew of the situation yet.

Doctor Discotheque wasn’t going to do anything to you. Not until Spider-Man made an appearance.

“Y’know, Doctor Disgusting,” you shouted. “You suck!”

Doctor Discotheque deadpanned. “Foolish woman! Did you not hear what I just said–”

“Drop me,” you demanded. You thrashed around, flailing your arms so that the rope fastening you to the lift shook. “Drop me, you fucking bitch! I dare you!”

Doctor Discotheque stilled. He said nothing, just simply grumbling something under his breath and dropping the remote control to the concrete ground.

You watched him, proud of yourself.

But there were bigger problems up ahead now.

Spider-Man was nowhere in sight. This maniac might actually do something to you if Spider-Man didn’t show up on time. With the size of this commotion– road blocks, traffic issues, a giant crowd pooling at the base of the skyscraper– it was no doubt that the spider-like hero should be on his way.

“Hey, fuckface!” 

A familiar confident and charming voice cut through the air suddenly.

Lo and behold, it was the great Spider-Man.

“Spider-Man-!” you blurted, relief washing over you.

Doctor Discotheque let out a laugh. That laugh became a cackle, before he was howling. Except, it wasn’t really laughing out of amusement, but him pushing air from his chest to create a sound. 

“So you’ve decided to show yourself, Spider-Man,” Doctor Discotheque rasped. He snatched the crane remote control off the ground, and fiddled with the controls just enough to shake you. You let out a small shriek. “One wrong move and this little girlfriend of yours will be dropped.”

Spider-Man clenched his fists.

“So choose wisely,” the villain furbished the remote with his fingers. “Or you'll be toppling to your death in no-time.”

Jay had to be quick with this. 

All eyes were on him, and you were genuinely endangered.

Doctor Discotheque’s main goal was and had always been to humiliate Spider-Man. Jay had no idea what types of things he had hidden up his sleeve, but if he was going far enough to endanger a civilian, it must be bad. 

Like his name would imply, Doctor Discotheque had the ability to generate sounds that transpired the ordinary human sonic level. A.K.A. Doctor Discotheque had a loud voice.

An ability like that would be extremely dangerous, considering that large sound waves are capable of killing people. Except, Jay had a crucial piece of information, thanks to the invaluable research of Wonnie: Doctor Discotheque’s body was not suited for his own ability.

While Doctor Discotheque was capable of pushing air from his diaphragm and vibrating his vocal cords, his own ears could not take it. Usually, those with superhuman abilities would have different bodily functions to accommodate the harm that the abilities would have. For example, those with fire abilities would have cooler and fire-resistant bodies in order to sustain the aptitude. Unfortunately, Doctor Discotheque did not have that.

That meant that while Doctor Discotheque could do basically anything with his voice, he wouldn’t, because that would bring physical harm to his own self, too.

The only issue: if defeated, Doctor Discotheque might take on a “if I die, I’ll take everyone with me” attitude.

Jay had to be strategic.

“If you don’t attack, Spider-Man,” Doctor Discotheque started. The villain sucked in a large breath, “I’ll destroy your eardrums!”

That last part was at least 90 decibels. Jay could tell by the way that Doctor Discotheque himself winced at the sound.

What a dumbass.

“I can’t believe I have to deal with you again, man.”

Jay shot a web to the water tanks behind Doctor Discotheque, thrusting him across the rooftop, which allowed him to extend his right leg in order to land a kick at the villain. The villain dodged his kick by stepping to the side. However, Jay’s lightning-fast reflexes saw that one coming, so he swerved his body to the right to attempt another kick. His elevated heel succeeded in scraping the crown of Doctor Discotheque’s head.

The villain stumbled backward, but continued to evade Jay. Shooting a web, the hero attempted to bring Doctor Discotheque to him, but he dodged it once again. Jay had to give him credit: he had pretty good reflexes.

Jay shot a web to the hedge the villain was next to, hoping to launch himself at him, but before he could, Doctor Discotheque landed a punch square on Jay’s nose.

“Ow! What the fuck, man?” Jay’s eyes watered at the impact. How embarrassing.

Jay continued his venture to wrap this guy in his webs, shooting multiple webs at once. A few of them landed, but Doctor Discotheque was able to dodge them.

“Come on, old man!” Jay grumbled. Finally, one of his webs effectively landed on the villain’s shoulder, allowing for Jay to grapple him toward him. Before Doctor Discotheque could react, the masked hero blasted him with a bunch of more webs, slathering him in those sticky white strings. 

The supervillain struggled against Spider-Man’s iron grip. Even with the tight webs binding him, Jay could feel him suck in a deep breath, an indicator that he was about to utilize that loud voice of his.

If Jay didn’t move now, his eardrums might actually get bursted.

Jay jumped away from Doctor Discotheque, except he kept his webs attached to him so that his previous binding work would not be rendered useless. Jay whipped his head around, eyeing your dangling figure.

“Cover your ears!” he shouted, before doing so himself. Doctor Discotheque let out a shrill screech, and although the sound was only large enough to send a vibration through Jay’s body, that was because Jay had the aid of superhuman abilities.

Everything else around them? Absolutely not.

The glass of surrounding buildings shattered, while the metal crane that was dangling you shook profusely. You screamed.

Shit, shit, shit.

While Jay was distracted, Doctor Discotheque squirmed free of the webs, crawling to the remote console he dropped to the ground earlier.

“Let’s play with your girlfriend,” the villain glowered. With that, he began tinkering with the controls of the console, shaking you around on the lift. This time, though, he was literally pressing all the buttons, giving you little time to anticipate what was coming next. The movement of the crane was unadulterated, so you shrieked in fear. 

“Are you gonna save her, Spider-Man?” Doctor Discotheque mocked.

Jay clenched his fists. It was a lot more important to save you before anything else. He could deal with this maniac later.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Spider-Man!” Much to his surprise, it was you yelling at him. “Don’t worry about me, just kick this lunatic’s ass!”

“How adorable!” Doctor Discotheque cooed. 

Jay wasn’t about to let a civilian, much less you, be in a position of severe danger. But Doctor Discotheque has been getting too confident and talking out of his ass too much.

Maybe he could do both.

If Jay could debilitate Doctor Discotheque, he could take the remote control. If he takes the remote control, he could easily save you.

When Jay started toward Doctor Discotheque, the villain let out a laugh. “You’re just going to ignore your little girlfriend like tha–”

“Shut– up!” Jay knocked him down with a kick to the cheek. 

When Doctor Discotheque was knocked to the ground, he dropped the remote control, too. However, the remote dropped face-down, so with the impact of its collision, it bursted and shattered into several pieces. The crane began to malfunction, waving around its lift erratically. The excessive movement made the ear-splitting sound of rust rubbing against itself. 

Not good. 

The head of the engineering department at the university always warned them about rusty construction tools. 

Oh, not good at all.

You screamed. Still pinning Doctor Discotheque’s hands to his sides, Jay grunted, snapping his head to you.

“Don- Don’t– Ah!-” you breathed. “Don’t worry about me!”

Jay clenched his jaw.

“I-I’m serious!” you squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m not sc-scared, or anything!”

No. That wasn’t true.

All those times that he carried you through the sky.

“Stop making fun of me, Spider-Man!” you lightly slapped his chest. “I’m just…– Eep!--” you squeezed his bicep again– “Scared of heights.”

The crane squeaked, as its spasms slowed. Except, its slowing down meant nothing. It only continued creaking. It was unstable, and by the looks of it, even Jay couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t snap off.

Doctor Discotheque threw his head back against the concrete ground, letting out another chortle. Before he could say anything, Jay raised his fist and punched him straight in the diaphragm. The villain groaned in pain, and before he could recover, Jay planted another punch in the abdomen, and another one square in the nose.

A punch in the diaphragm should debilitate him for just enough time to save you.

Jay swung toward the lift of the crane.

You were tied to it by the feet. The only way to get you to the roof was to operate the crane so that it was hanging over the building, or untie you. The former was impossible now, so the second option was the only option.

“I-I told you to–!” 

“[Name], you yell a lot.” Jay didn’t realize how out-of-character it was for Spider-Man to say that, but currently, he was plagued with urgency. He had to be serious.

You shut your mouth immediately.

“[Name], I’m going to untie you,” Jay instructed. “You are going to fall.”

“Wh-What?”

Jay was already untying the ropes. Which was oddly easy. 

Why were the ropes so loosely tied? 

He clenched his teeth.

He was going to destroy that maniac for putting you in harm’s way.

“When I untie your feet, you’re going to fall,” Jay asserted. When he heard your breath hitch, he sighed. His gaze on you softened. “Don’t worry, Pretty. I’ll catch you.”

There was one loop left to unknot. Your eyes widened as you felt your feet slowly slip.

“You ready?” Jay stared into your eyes. 

“Y-Yeah.”

He sensed the fear in your voice. “I got you, Baby.”

He untied the last knot. Immediately, you began falling down multiple stories. Your arms thrashed, and your eyes squeezed shut. You let out a loud, yet strained scream.

But then you stopped. Because you felt strong arms grip your waist.

“Spider-Man!” you cried, pressing your face into his neck, holding him tighter than you ever had before. Your eyes were watery with fear.

“What did I say, Angel?” You could hear the grin in his voice. “I got you.”

Jay swung the two of you up to the top of the skyscraper. He let you down at a roof-like structure at the very back of the roof.

“Stay here.”

“But you–”

“[Name], I need you to stay here,” Jay said, squeezing your arm. “Please.”

You sighed. “Fine.”

With that, he swung back to the front to fight Doctor Discotheque.

At that point, Doctor Discotheque was still coughing and heaving from the punch to the diaphragm, but was able to stand.

“I’m surprised you could still stand, you old geezer,” Jay mocked.

Now that you were safe, he regained his humor.

“Spider-Man, you may have beaten me three times, but not a fourth ti– AGH!”

Jay punched him. “Shut up!”

Then, Doctor Discotheque kicked Jay in the stomach. From there, they engaged in hand-to-hand combat. It was a shaky fight: Doctor Discotheque had decent strength, so his punches were indeed strong, but Jay had lightning reflexes that allowed him to dodge. Soon, Doctor Discotheque backed the hero up against the electricity pole. 

“Little punks like you–” Doctor Discotheque, finally, landed a successful punch to Jay’s cheek, eliciting a groan- “Need to know your place.”

Doctor Discotheque took a deep breath.

Fuck.

He was going to scream.

He couldn’t scream loud enough to kill or severely harm Jay because he would be inflicting that same pain to himself as well. But he could definitely debilitate him with a single scream.

Doctor Discotheque opened his mouth, his chest rising and falling to widen his vocal cords. 

Just as the villain was going to scream Jay deaf, he freed his hand from Doctor Discotheque’s grip. Jay punched the villain’s mouth. More specifically, he shoved his fist in his mouth.

Doctor Discotheque sunk his teeth into Jay’s fists, but he just ignored him. Instead, Jay pushed his fist deeper into his mouth, further lodging it in.

With the agility of a spider, he attached a web to the villain. With nimble, yet confident, fingers, Jay spurted webs to bind his hands and feet together. In between, he landed punch after punch and kick after kick at the man.

“Just” punch “go” punch “away” punch “already!”

The villain was now biting into Jay’s fist so hard now that he was sure the fabric was ripping. 

“Fuck!” Jay kicked him square in the abdomen, sending him flying across the rooftop. When he looked at his fist, it was bleeding with teeth marks. Whatever.

Jay approached Doctor Discotheque’s keeling figure. The villain coughed blood, hair frazzled with sweat and sticking to his forehead. The superhero stood over him.

Then, Doctor Discotheque started sobbing.

?!

“I… I did it all for my son,” the villain quivered, tears streaming down his cheeks. “My son… My beautiful son…”

Son.

Jay never had a father. The only person closest to a father was his uncle, who already died, leaving him to take care of his kid brother. 

“My– My so-son,” Doctor Discotheque sobbed. “He– He always wanted a c-cool dad.”

???

“I th-thought if I fought you… he would th-think his dad w-was cool!”

Jay took a deep breath. “And you can be a cool dad. If you just spent time with him instead of fighting me.”

“N-No,” Doctor Discotheque sniffled. “H-He’s obs–  obsessed with Spider-Ma-Man.”

Jay sighed. He crouched down beside the man. 

“Doctor Discotheque,” he began. “I didn’t have a father. I’d do anything to just spend time with him. Your son will love you ten times more if you were just there for him.”

“R-Really?” Doctor Discotheque looked up at him with watery eyes.

“Yes.”

There was a pulse of silence. Doctor Discotheque stared at Jay, before his fingers twitched. Before he could do anything, a loud clang! rang through the air.

“[Name]…!”

You, with a metal rod, wacked Doctor Discotheque in the back of his head, sending him forward.

“I don’t fucking care!” you spat at him. You were breathing heavily, before your eyes met Jay’s.

“[Name]... what are you–”

You dropped the metal rod. You grabbed the villain’s face, slapping him. 

“I don’t fucking care about you and your son!” Slap. “You wreak havoc on this city and you expect us to forgive you because you have a tragic sob story?!” Slap.“You almost killed me!” Slap.  “You’re wearing sparkly spandex!” Slap. “No wonder your son doesn’t think you’re cool!” Slap. “You bitch!”

“[Name], that’s enough…!”

The aftermath of the incident was nothing to sneeze at.

Your face, as well as Doctor Discotheque, was plastered all over the news. Speaking of which, Doctor Discotheque was revealed to be some middle-aged professor, and was taken into custody for a court hearing.

It had only been a few hours ago since Spider-Man dropped you home. Meanwhile, he said that he had some “business” to attend to. Probably interviews and reporters.

It was the middle of the afternoon by now. The apartment was completely silent. Wonnie was still at school. And… Jay. 

You bit your lip as you remembered what happened the night before. 

You felt your neck and cheeks heat up. You really kissed him, touched him, whispered lewd words into his ear– Oh my god, you had to apologize to him! 

You brought two fingers to your lip.

His lips were chapped and the lip-piercing pressed against your lip in a way that was almost painful, but for some reason, the thought just sent butterflies in your stomach. His hands were so big, holding onto you with a desperate grip.

You shoved your face into your hands, squeezing your eyes shut.

How embarrassing!

How were you going to face Jay Park? 

Why were you worried?

“Do you… have a crush on him then?” Spider-Man’s words echoed through your mind.

Did you?

It would make a great deal of sense. 

Why you were feeling this way, why you got so angry last night, why you’d  been thinking about him at night for the past five years. 

Your heart began speeding up at the thought of having a crush on Jay Park. Not just the absurdity of the idea, but because you felt so childish. You were an adult now. How could you have such a petulant crush?

But then again, Jay Park made you feel childish. Like you were some middle schooler, all immature and giggly.

Before you could dig yourself further into a hole, a tapping came from the window. Stalking over to the sill, you spotted a red-and-blue-clad hero. 

He was lowering himself upside-down in his iconic stance, hanging onto a single spider web.

“Spider-Man!” you exclaimed.

“Hey there, Angel,” the hero grinned behind the mask when you opened the window. He was about to climb through when the unexpected happened. “H-Hey, what are you–!”

You grasped his upside-down face. You tore down his mask just enough to reveal the bottom half of his face, and pressed your lips onto his.

It was a chaste kiss, not meant to be sexual. Simply innocent.

Except, it felt familiar.

It was a soft kiss, but you could feel the hero’s lips. They were chapped, and there was a cold piece of metal on his lip. Like a lip-piercing.

When you pulled away, you gazed at Spider-Man’s half-exposed face, which wore an awkward, boxy smile.

“That’s what you get for saving me all those times,” you breathed.

Spider-Man’s lips curved. “What are you, a fairytale princess?”

You grinned. “You saved me like I was one.”

“Just my duty, Gorgeous.”

You caressed Spider-Man’s skin. Just like you expected, he had a strong jaw and sharp nose. His cheeks were a honey-tan color, with a twinge of red. 

And most notably, his lips.

Chapped, pink, but plump.

And pierced.

Her thumb pressed onto the piercing. 

His breath hitched.

You've seen that lip-piercing before.

You've stared at a certain somebody’s lips for long enough to recognize it.

No. It can’t be.

You touched his face, tracing his features slowly. 

“Spider-Man,” you drew out your syllables. “Can you stand up normally? I want to check something.”

The hero silently complied, climbing through the window sill. When he stood in front of you, swiping a tongue over his pierced bottom lip, you swallowed down hard.

Please.

In one, quick movement, you pushed Spider-Man against the wall, sliding your hands up his chest. Your hands slithered to his toned arms, grappling onto his wrists to pin above his head.

Your heart was about to fall out of yourc hest. You were breathless, eyes trained onto the hero’s lips.

A pedicured hand came up to grasp his chin.

“Are you Park?” you asked in a near-whisper. “Please. Please tell me. Are you Jay Park?”

Spider-Man stilled in your hold. He sucked in a sharp breath, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Please,” you whispered.

As you gazed at him with wide, pleading eyes, Spider-Man was able to free one of his hands. Slowly, he grasped the tight material of his mask. He pulled the fabric up and over his eyes, before freeing his entire head and face.

What was revealed?

Dark hair. Dark eyes. Tan skin. A sharp nose. And that goddamn lip piercing.

Jay Park.

You audibly gasped. Your hold on his one wrist weakened, dropping all the way when you brought both hands up to clasp your gaping mouth.

Jay looked at you with an ashamed expression, yet his eyes were locked onto yours. He parted his lips to say something, but no sound came out.

This entire time… it was him?

Your body moved on its own.

You grabbed his face, and smashed your lips against his.

At first, Jay was completely still. 

But after a few seconds, he let out a low grunt against your lips, slithering his arms around your waist. That earned a small squeal from you, giving him the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth. Your hands roamed, sliding up and down his chest before resting in his hair. When you pulled on his dark locks, he groaned softly, allowing you to push his tongue out and put yours into his mouth.

Jay gave your waist a warning squeeze, as if to say, “Don’t try that on me.” But you only smirked against his lips, sliding your hand up his head to grab a fistful of his hair and pulling it.

When you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, both flushed in the face with blown-out, desire-filled eyes. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity.

“You…” you blinked. Then, your face contorted. With a fist, you began hitting his chest. “It was you this whole time? It was… It was you who carried me home, who took me out, who saved me, who– who comforted me when I cried!

“Why didn’t you listen to me when I told you to not worry about me?!” you continued pounding his chest. “And why the fuck would you try to sympathize with that lunatic?! You could have been hurt– He might have pulled out a knife, or something! I was so worried that he’d pull a fast one and try to stab you, you stupid, stupid, stupid–!”

It was Jay’s turn to smash his lips against yours.

Almost immediately, you stopped all of your movement, melting into the kiss.

“You’re-” Jay mumbled against your lips- “You’re always such a fucking brat.”

He laced his fingers with hers, holding your hands tightly. "Always givin' me hell, you know that?"

He was rough, a lot more rough than you imagined, but it wasn't like you were opposed to it. You tried to say something, squeezing his hands. You got a few sounds out, but they were all muffled by his kissing.

“Shut up,” Jay breathed against your lips. “Just shut the fuck up and let me kiss you.”

You whined, causing him to smirk.

This kiss was much more heated than any previous ones you’ve had with him. And also much messier.

When you finally pulled away, your lips were swollen, connected by a single string of spit.

“Oh my god,” you mewled, gripping onto Jay’s bicep. “Fuck, please, Jay.”

Jay swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You never called him by his name like this. “‘Please’ what, Angel?”

“I want you,” you looked up at him with wide and glassy eyes, the same ones that he’s seen in his guiltiest dreams. “Oh my god, please, I want you so bad, Jay.”

“Are you gonna yell and hit me like last time?” he teased, hands already sliding down to grip your hips.

You pressed a wet kiss to his jaw. “Only if you won’t leave me in the middle of a hallway drunk like last time.”

You both stared at each other for a few moments, with cocked brows and narrowed eyes, neither of you wanting to relent your pride. Then, at the same time, broke out into a fit of laughter.

“I have high expectations for you, Park.”

“I won’t disappoint you, you fuckin’ nerdo freak.”

FIN.

“Oh, thank you so much, Spider-Man!”

It was a warm spring evening, and Spider-Man had been on his evening city patrol. When he found a little old lady calling for help, who was he to refuse her? Her cat had been stuck in a tree, and she needed someone to help her. Hopping up on the tree, he safely retrieved the ball of fluff.

“Of course, Ma’am,” the superhero chuckled. If only she could see him through his mask, he would be grinning. “Get home safely.”

Watching the little lady’s retreating back, Spider-Man shot a web to the top of a building, and hoisted himself up into the air.

On late-spring nights like this, it was peaceful. He liked the breeze that hit his masked face as he swung from building to building. Around this time, rush hour would be beginning, and all the university students would be getting out. Speaking of…

Peeking over a billboard, Spider-Man peered down to the university campus. His own university campus.

There was no reason in particular for this, but he liked to watch the university around evening time. Most people were beginning their commute home or to the dorms, but campus crime was not rare at all. It could be small offenses like graffiti or theft, but he would prefer those types of things to just not exist at all at a place like the university. And, he just liked to check up on his friends or people he knew, to make sure they were getting home safely.

His eyes narrowed at a familiar figure that made its way across campus. Even from a tall building, he could recognize that head. His jaw clenched, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip before shooting another web and slinging away.

By the time it was fully dark out, Spider-Man had finished his night patrol. 

Sitting on the roof of his apartment complex, he didn’t quite want to go in yet. He liked freedom: the physical freedom yielded from spider-like abilities– practically flying through the air– and the social freedom of anonymity. Leaning back on his palms, Spider-Man took a deep breath.

The clouds were beginning to clear up because of the weather, so the moon and stars were extra visible tonight. Clothed fingers creeped up to his neck, carefully pulling up the red mask that covered his face.

He was lucky that no one else casually sat on top of apartment complexes, or else his identity would be revealed.

Jay Park.

The moonlight glimmered on his honey-gold tan skin. The night breeze was cool, kissing his hot cheeks. He ran a hand through his tousled coal-ebony hair, letting his sweaty forehead that had been covered for hours air out.

Truth be told, he was a tad exhausted. It’s not common for the safety of a city to lie on the shoulders of a struggling university student like himself. Throwing his head back and letting dark locks fall over his eyebrows, he let out a huff.

Shit, there’s a party tomorrow.

Everyone liked to boast about the idea of soulmates. 

The idea that fate existed as the binding force that drew lovers of all disparate backgrounds together was prolific, pervading in all parts of history. From severed limbs that shared the same primordial origin, to congenital tattoos containing initials, to even timers that counted down every second until meeting, the concept of soulmates has been longed for, craved for, lusted for- for centuries.

Unfortunately, for you, the notion that everyone had an innate and pre-destined lover was a tad ridiculous.

There was no way that you could believe in soulmates.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

But you did believe in natural enemies.

“I can ask you the same thing, Park.”

Tonight was the soccer team mixer, an end-of-the-year party that the university’s team hosted to celebrate yet another exciting school year. Courtesy of your friends, you and your thick-ass glasses ended up attending. 

Tonight was supposed to be a nice night. It really was. Junior year of university was a stressful one, and you were more than ready to party all your worries away: you figured that you earned it. 

Much to your misfortune, though, there was someone else that decided to attend: the most insufferable, loud, and obnoxious person to ever exist, Jay Park.

There were several reasons to despise him and his funky, tousled hair. He was loud, rowdy, fiery, rambunctious, unruly, uncouth, uncivilized, hot-headed, talked way too much, had no sense of volume, and in your very personal opinion, just sucked. And, apparently, he was a total freak. He would show up to parties and socials, cause a ruckus with his presence, and then randomly disappear. He stood weirdly, and his mannerisms were just strange.

If you could go back and change history, you would have never allowed yourself to even meet such a person. Unfortunately, you two had intersecting friend groups and many mutual friends; there was no avoiding him given your social circles.

It started back in freshman year of highschool. The two of you were sat next to each other on the first day of fourth period English Honors. Your teacher must have seen something that you didn’t, because it was almost impossible for you to even talk to each other. Jay, the pubescent boy he was, would crack a few jokes. You, though, would stare at him vacantly, as if you were expecting him to add on. 

“Can you stop talking?” you asked him once. “Your jokes aren’t funny.”

You had meant it in a helpful way.

“If you want to make it funnier, maybe have a set-up and punchline? Your jokes don’t land.”

Really.

You were genuinely trying to be helpful. 

The only issue was that, like everyone else in the world, Jay didn’t take that well.

From then until the second quarter, you and Jay would only talk to each other if specifically asked to. You would turn around to the girl that sat behind you, and Jay would talk to the guy that sat diagonally in front of him. And when you guys did speak Jay would be unnecessarily dry, and in response, you would get irritated and snap at him.

When you finally moved seats next quarter, you still managed to see each other around. Too much. Your only interactions were limited to a few judgy glances, and occasionally, glares.

During the fourth quarter, Jay made an attempt to mend your relationship when you guys were placed adjacent to each other again. 

Except, now it was your turn to be offended. 

“Hey, I know I was a dick and you were a bitch, but-”

“I was a bitch?”

You’d kick his chair in class, and when the two of you were inevitably forced to talk, it’d be short and curt.

Truly, it was the summer of freshman year that really catapulted your relationship into what it was today. 

When you hung out with your friends over the summer, Jay was always (and truly, always) there. 

Initially, it was awkward.

But when you learned that Jay liked the same band as you– Muse– you thought that you could finally put your terse relationship to an end. 

“You listen to Muse?” You had tapped his shoulder one day at the beach. He was hunched over, listening to his music with earphones jammed into his ears peacefully. He looked bemused, cocking a brow at you.

It must have been the way that you said it. Poor, slightly socially-inept you, who, up until that point, couldn’t control your tone of voice. It was no surprise that Jay thought you were making fun of him.

Brusquely standing up, he snatched his earbuds up to go somewhere [Name]-free, grumbling something under his breath.

From then on, you two rarely got along.

“Something about his face pisses me off.”

“I don’t like how she says things.”

“He makes me so angry for some reason.”

“She’s a total nerdo freak.”

“I need to fight him.”

“I need to fight her.”

For the first two years of high school, there was non-stop bickering. Not necessarily malicious in intent, but it was clear that neither of you liked each other.

The closest thing to a “friendship” that the two of you formed was during the second semester of sophomore year, when your friend started liking his friend, and vice versa.

Both of you were getting tired of seeing your friends so cluelessly in love with each other, so you and Jay joined forces to push them together. Secret in-class texting, after-school discussions, shared knowing looks, and when they finally got together on the last day of school, a perfectly-timed fist-bump. As much as you’d hate to admit it, you and Jay Park made a wonderful team.

After that, you were just on your way to becoming great friends. Obviously, not as close as other friends, but it was undoubted that you had incredible potential to become very good friends.

Until one midsummer night.

“You knew that Taehyun Kang was cheating on Isa– with the girl that he swore up and down she shouldn't worry about– and said nothing?” 

It was a difficult night. Especially when you had to console a weeping friend on one call and yell at Jay Park on the other. 

“He’s my best friend, too,” was all Jay had said.

“And?” You had been incredulous. “Taehyun’s been making googly-eyes at that girl since way before he got with Isa! You knew. You’ve known this entire time and you still-”

“I didn’t know.”

You remembered the anger that began to bubble inside of you. You had spent the past few weeks trying to fix your aggression issues, because it was Jay that told you about your first interaction that got you guys off on the wrong foot. But now, you really couldn’t suppress it.

“Yes you fucking did!” you yelled over the phone. “I know you did. Don’t try to pull this shit on me, Jay.”

He didn’t respond.

“You’ve known this entire time, and you didn’t say anything.”

He had huffed over the phone, grumbling something incoherent. “I didn’t know until a few days before school ended.”

“A few days before school ended?--” You had sunken your teeth into your bottom lip, for the anger that was just beginning to heat up was now rising to a boil– “That was a few days before they got together! You had time to say something– but you didn’t.”

“What did you want me to do?” Jay was now getting angry. “You wanted me to speak up and ruin everything?”

“You could have. You should have. But you didn’t.”

“It’s not my responsibility, [Name]. It’s not your or my responsibility.”

The boiling anger was now seething. “Yes, it fucking was!”

“No, it wasn-”

If Jay could have seen your face over the phone, it would have been twisted with both disbelief and indignation.

“When you and I teamed up to get Taehyun and Isa together,” you asserted through clenched teeth, “there were some things we took responsibility for. And when they got together, we had the responsibility to be good friends. Good fucking people, Park! You–”

You had to take a few moments to breathe. “You had the power– You had the knowledge that your best friend was a cheating bastard that would– You know what? You’re just like him. You could’ve been a normal fucking person and did things the right way, but you lack responsibility and basic intelligence to do so.”

Through the course of that messy break-up, a few more screaming matches between you and Jay came about. Really, it should have been an argument for your friends to have, but you and Jay had had enough of each other. The floodgate that had held your relationship finally broke.

For the rest of your high school years, every interaction would just be blows at each other. It started as subtle, harmless jabs. But over time, those jabs became hostile. Petty actions, like light shoves or stealing pens, evolved into spiteful and calculated attacks, such as purposefully tripping the other or intentionally cutting the other out of a group photo.

Eventually, your friends made up and the break-up rift was resolved, but not you and Jay’s rocky relationship. 

The horror you and Jay must have felt when you found out you were going to the same university.

At the present, pushing up the metal-framed glasses that delicately laid on your nose, you could feel Jay’s dark eyes boring into you. Giving him a once-over, your nose scrunched. Once again, you’re reminded of why you could not stand this guy.

Tonight was a soccer mixer. A college mixer. Looking around, everyone was dressed as if they were college students at a college party. Because that’s what they were.

Girls, including yourself, wore small dresses and short skirts with plunging necklines and fat, wedged heels. They did their hair in all kinds of elaborate styles– you tied your hair into a half-down-half-up style. The guys wore ripped jeans, form-fitting button-ups, leather jackets, and if you were a soccer player, the iconic soccer team jacket- but really anything that was casual and easy to move in.

Jay Park, on the other hand, swore a deep-green hoodie with ripped jeans, like the uncultured villain he was.

Okay, maybe you were being biased.

A few of your friends did come in wearing hoodies and ripped jeans, and you did, in fact, come through the door of this frat house with an oversized hoodie draped over your shoulders. But, the difference was that this was Jay Park. Everything that he did was uncultured and barbaric.

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised,” you remarked, glaring up at him through your lashes. You were on your way to grab a few drinks for your friends in the kitchen when you bumped into none other than Jay Park. “You hang around Jake Sim, I hang around Jake Sim. Use your critical thinking.”

Jake Sim was a mutual friend between you and Jay, who just so happened to be on the university’s soccer team. Great guy, but the only thing that you would complain about was the fact that every time you hung out with him, you would inevitably meet Jay.

Jay scoffed. “Didn’t think a prude like you would actually show up to a party like this.”

“Prude?” Of all times to be calling you prude, it really shouldn’t be now, when you were wearing possibly the shortest and tightest dress with the most risque neckline that you’ve ever worn in your entire life. Those thin spaghetti straps were not doing you any justice. And especially because you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes would linger around your silhouette. “Who’s the one who hasn’t been laid in months? Who’s the one with the worst box-dyed hair on the entire campus? Who’s the one that lacks any social awareness and says the most uncomfortable shit in a voice at 260 fucking decibels? Who randomly disappears? Who moves around like a goddamn insect?”

“That’s not even fucking true!” The man waved his hands in front of himself defensively. “God, you’re so fucking annoying.”

“I’m annoying? You’re the creep that follows me around everywhere.”

“You said it yourself! We have a mutual friend so we always end up-”

“Yeah, but I get the feeling that we end up in the same places because you choose to follow me-”

“I can assure you that no one wants to follow your nerdo freak ass-”

“Oh wow! How creative. You’ve been calling me that since we were fourteen–”

“Because that’s what you are! A nerdo freak that can’t do shit–”

“Why are you even here? You always have that job that you leave to-”

“Hey, hey, hey, party people!” a new voice interjected. 

Jake Sim, your mutual friend, with sleek sunglasses resting on his nose and a beer in his hand, suddenly appeared between your arguing bodies, throwing an arm around each of you.

“Jakey!” you exclaimed.

“‘Sup.” Jake was a suave guy, not a wonder that so many people liked him. “What were the two of you talking about? Looked like you were having fun!”

Jay cringed, his lips curling. Of all words, ‘fun’ would be the furthest from a good descriptor of your interaction. You seemed to think the same.

“Nothing,” you said through clenched teeth and brief glare to the ebony-haired man. 

Jake frowned. “Awww, don’t tell me you guys were fighting again!”

You and Jay locked eyes.

‘Don’t you fucking dare,' his eyes said.

‘Wasn’t going to,’ yours replied.

Jake Sim was a sociable guy. Unfortunately, it made him a little obsessed with making everyone get along. So when he found out that you and Jay deeply disliked each other in junior year of high school, he made it his life’s mission to make you get along.

Didn’t work. It really only made you hate each other more.

“We weren’t,” Jay affirmed, swiping a tongue over his pierced bottom lip. 

When Jake cocked a brow, you added, “Yeah, we weren’t.”

When Jake left you two alone again, there was a thick silence that fell over you (as silent as a rowdy college party could get). You took your drink, and turned to leave.

“Go fuck yourself, by the way,” you spat.

There’s many issues with college parties. A few hundred bodies of sweaty late-teen-early-twenty-somethings all squished together in a single frat house with alcohol and drugs was just a recipe for disaster. Alas, that was simply the college way.

To Jay Park, other than the fact that there was, ahem, usually the presence of people that he didn’t like at college parties, there was the fact alcohol was practically everywhere. No matter how many times he could vow to not drink on one particular night, he always ended up slightly buzzed or full-out drunk.

Like right now.

It was late into the night, but the party hadn’t died down even a little bit. His friends pulled him onto the dance floor. Normally, he would scurry off, probably scared that he might lose control of his spider abilities, but with the booming techno music, blinding LED lights, and alcohol that had happily found its way into his system, Jay’s mind was completely hazy. He could barely feel his own feet below him.

The next thing he knew, there was a body up against him. Definitely smaller than him, but plush and soft, moving fluidly to the music. His mind was completely fuzzy, but Jay could smell a familiar scent. Sweet and almost citrusy, like a summer orange. His arm slithered around the person’s waist, pulling them closer to his own body. His fingers found themselves snaking toward the person’s hip. His larger hands gave it squeeze, earning him a barely-audible squeal. 

If only he knew that the person was you.

Maybe it was the alcohol getting to him, but he felt a shock of fervor and excitement rake through his body.

Bodies moving closely together, he could feel a ghost of your warmth where there was clothes; where clothing was, he could only feel a touch of warmth. 

Jay could feel everything, thanks to his heightened spidey senses and the alcohol. Every motion of your body against his, every breath you took. Which is why even when intoxicated, he could clearly hear the song change from techno to punk rock– Muscle Museum by that one band he’s liked since freshman year of highschool. Muse, was it?

“Fuck, I love this song,” he heard you mutter in your own tipsy state.

Jay was sure you couldn’t hear him, but he slurred back, “Me too.”

His hands explored.

A bare thigh, soft and creamy. An exposed neck, an unclad arm, an ample uncovered chest. Something metal on your face– a piercing? glasses? You must have been wearing jewelry, because he could feel cold metal hanging from your neck and splaying across your chest.

(The amount of practice it took for him to be able to ensure no sticky webs came out of his palms was out of this world. Sober Jay would have been a little more careful, but it was a good thing that he practiced so much.)

When his hand gave your waist another squeeze, something must have clicked in your mind, because you slid your arms around his neck, turning your body to press your chests together. Pedicured fingers ran across his chest through the fabric of his hoodie, ending up at his shoulders. Another jolt of warmth and electricity coursed through his veins.

Jay’s head was way too blurred to really take a look at you in front of him, but again, that familiar scent filled his senses. 

When the lights dimmed and music slowed, you rested your head on his shoulder. He could feel your breath fanning against his neck, lip brushing against his skin. Your lips were half-moist; it must have been gloss that made it sticky, but there was a hint of dryness that he could tell was from being swollen– you were biting your lip so much it was becoming swollen. A warm chill rushed down his spine. 

How drunk was he at this point? He didn’t care, because the next thing he knew, he was pushed up against a wall in a dark hallway.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he muttered under his breath, as you shoved your pedicured hands up his hoodie and played with the belt loops of his ripped jeans.  Throwing his head back against the wall, he heard you giggle, before you ghosted your hand over his lower abdomen, effectively sending waves of warmth down his body. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, flinching. He cursed his spidey senses for making him so sensitive to touch. “Don’t fucking do that- don’t tease me.”

He heard another giggle, before he felt a few nimble fingers grasping his chin gently, pulling his face down for a better reach.

It was a soft, but crazily attractive, voice that whined in his ear, “But you’re so cute like this.”

And then you continued, slipping your hand up and down his bare abdomen, occasionally stopping near his collarbone to tug on the metal necklace that laid so delicately. Meanwhile, you pressed open-mouth kisses on his neck, eliciting the softest sighs of satisfaction.

Truth be told, Jay had no idea that it was you who was all pressed up against him, but for some reason, the fact that he didn’t know turned him on even more. 

The wet kisses, which he was sure left sparkly pink traces of lip gloss, littered all over his skin, trailing from the part where his jaw and ear met, to his collarbones, to his Adam’s apple, and finally, to his chin.

With a squeeze to his bicep, you gently cupped his cheek, pulling him closer. With an experimental hand, you swiped your thumb over his bottom lip, pressing onto the cold metal piercing that adorned his lip.

It was a dark hallway, but it was now that Jay noticed the light that reflected off of your glasses’ lens. When he tried to look for your eyes, he was only met with the sleek shine that reflected off your glasses.

“Let me kiss you,” you purred into his ear as you ran your thumb over his lips. It was now that he could smell the tequila from your breath. “Please?”

Jay, all in his equally-drunken glory, threw his head back again against the wall, making a thud sound. “Fuuuuck,” he cursed under his breath. “Yeah. You’re hot.”

You giggled. You gave his lip piercing one more tap of the finger before entangling your hands in his dark hair, giving it a soft tug. It was a good thing that he was pushed so close against a wall, because Jay swore his knees were going to give out. 

“Thank you, baby.”

You gave his hair another tug, staring straight into his eyes. The half-panicked expression that spread across his face made you crack a small grin of satisfaction, and Jay felt embarrassed under your gaze. Gently holding his face, you pressed soft butterfly kisses along his jawline before you ended up at his chin. You pulled him closer so that your chests were pushed all the way against each other, the majority of your weight on him against the wall.

Jay swiped a tongue over his lip, sucking in a sharp and shallow breath. His chest rose and fell, swallowing so hard in anticipation that his Adam’s apple bobbed. You brushed your nails along his bicep before clasping hands with him; in a swift movement, you pinned his hands flat on the wall next to his head. 

The gap between your faces was closing. You were only a few inches apart at this point. Hot breaths and glassy eyes.

Hands still pinned against the wall, Jay could not tear his eyes away from that glossy sheen on your glasses. He wanted so badly to see your eyes, lock onto them. Usually, the inability to see someone’s eyes would make a kiss less appealing, but for some reason, it only made things more intimate for him. Combined with the darkness and intoxicated state, the anonymity was a turn-on.

Almost as if to tease him, you peppered soft kisses along his chin and around his lips. Freeing his hand from your grip, Jay snuck it around your waist, pressing you all the way up against him. He could feel every curve and divot of your body now; with the softness and plush skin, he wanted to explore it once again with his touch. His big hand traveled down your waist to your hips, caressed your ass, and ended up on the backside of your thigh. He freed his other hand to do the same, resulting in two hands on your thighs.

Jay parted his lips, peering down at you through lidded eyes. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

The music had faded in the background, but his heart pounded to the beat of the slow R&B. 

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

So close. You were so close.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

Sliding his hands up your back to your shoulders, Jay gave it a squeeze. In a swift movement, he flipped your positions around, pushing you gently against the wall and placing a flat palm above you head.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

You giggled, grappling for his hair once again. 

Again, he could smell that sweet, citrusy scent.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

Jay leaned in. 

There was a sort of tenderness—intimacy— that he suddenly craved for. Closing that gap, having skin on skin, lip to lip, he needed it.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

If he just got a little closer… a few more centimeters, and your lips would-

Beep beep!

What-

Beep beep!

Bewildered, Jay flinched back.

It was his watch, which lit up the dark hallway.

You held his bicep, trying to pull him back in. He resisted.

Beep beep! Time to go! his watch went on.

“Baby,” you breathed. “Is everything okay?”

Jay bit his tongue. As sensible as an intoxicated person can be, his eyes narrowed at his glowing wristwatch. 

Fuck.

“I-I have to go.” Jay pushed off the wall, turning toward the hallway entrance. He was feeling dizzy.

“What? But-”

He eyed his watch, which was now glowing a red color.

“Shit, shit-” He turned over his shoulder, slurring out, “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t see your face but he could feel disappointed and confused eyes boring into his back.

On his way out of the frat house, Jay took a bottle of water and chugged it, sobering up (though still feeling shitfaced and nasty). He rushed out of the house, and the moment he stepped out onto the pavement, his phone rang.

“What happened this time, Jungwon?” he grumbled into his phone, still catching his breath. His hand came up to touch his neck. Even out here and sobered up, he could still feel the sticky kisses pressed against his skin, setting his cheeks aflame against the cold night air.

On the other side of the phone, a childish voice spoke. “Doctor Discotheque!”

“What?”

He heard a huff. “Doctor Discotheque! Remember? That villain guy! He’s here!”

Jay scoffed. “Where’s ‘here’?”

“At home, you dummy!”

Sometimes, Jay wondered why he employed his eight-year-old kid brother, Jungwon, or Wonnie, to help him with his Spider-Man endeavors. Given the fact that the kid was literally eight years old, it might have been a little pathetic to enlist the help of someone who couldn’t even do basic math. But honestly, Wonnie was the best he had– the kid was terribly excited to find out that his big brother was a superhero and he promised not to tell anyone only if Jay 1) told him everything that happened (correction: everything cool that happened, the kid didn’t want to hear about helping old people use the subway) and 2) let him be intel. There wasn’t much a grade-schooler could do to be a valuable informant (what was Jay going to let him do, run around the street at night?), but he sure did have a lot of time on his hands.

“Okay, okay,” Jay rubbed the scar on his nose. “Where at home? Like, in the complex? Outside?”

“Two floors below us.”

“What.”

Just as Jay was outside the general vicinity of mixer-goers, he heard a slew of heavy footsteps and then suddenly felt two arms wrap around his torso.

“What the-”

A very, very, very familiar voice began sobbing into his back. “Why’d you leeeavvvvveee?”

You.

You tightened your hold on him, burying your face in his hoodie-clad back. “Whyyyyyyyyyy?” you drawled.

“The fuck-?” Jay, cringing into his skin, tried to pull away. However, his nose picked up a scent that he was more than mortified to recognize. It was sweet and citrusy. And when his eyes caught the outline of your metal-framed glasses and the illumination that was strewn across the lens, all hell broke loose.

“Jay?” Wonnie’s voice called over the line. “Jay! Spider-Man! Is everything okay?”

“Hold on-” Jay replied. “Fuck, just give me a second.”

You, [Name] [Last Name], possibly one of the most insufferable people ever, was the one that he was all over just five minutes ago. You were the one that had him pressed up against the wall. You were the one that was touching and kissing him all over. You were the one that sent chills down his spine. You were the one that he was minutes away from taking into a spare bedroom and-

He sucked in a sharp breath. Not the time to think about that.

Now that he had soaked in the fresh air outside the frat house, the smell of alcohol was strong on your person. It consoled him that everything happened because both of you were drunk, at least.

“[N-Name],” he muttered. “[Name], let go.”

You were fuckfaced drunk, holding and clinging onto him like your life depended on it and wailing. Jay never thought that he’d find a day where you would be like this to him.

“I want youuuuu,” you slurred. “Come baaaaack insiiiideeee.”

“Jesus Christ, you college kids,” Wonnie clicked his tongue on the other side of the line. “Get a room.”

“Shut it,” Jay spat. Turning his attention to you sobbing in his arms, he figured that you had no idea that the person you were all over was him. If you did, you would be kicking and screaming at him. 

As much as he needed to go, he didn’t feel great about leaving a drunk woman (no matter how much he disliked you) alone at night at the side of a road.

“[Name], where are your friends?”

You sniffled. “I don’t knowww.”

Jay huffed. He couldn’t find your phone, and he wasn’t going to hang up on his brother– who he honestly really needed to get to, like, right now.

He had a few options: fail at his job as Spider-Man by leaving a drunk woman unattended, go inside and physically look for your friends which will delay him going to Wonnie, or take you home himself. He did not have a lot of time.

Which is why he was currently carrying you, his worst enemy, bridal style as he shoots webs across the sky, all the while being on call with his kid brother.

“When are you getting home again?” Wonnie asked.

“Give me, like-” Jay looked around the city- “Five minutes.”

A lucky feat of being Spider-Man was that he had incredible speed and agility. 

It wasn’t going to take much longer to get to your apartment, which he now realized was very close to his own apartment complex.

Actually, he was heading straight towards his apartment complex. 

Weird. 

Maybe yours is the one behind it? 

Nope, there’s just an old construction site behind it.

Wait, so then where’s your apartment…?

Oh my god, you lived in the same apartment complex as him.

Speaking of, you were asleep in his arms. 

“Won, what is Doctor Discotheque doing?”

“Having tea with our downstairs neighbors.”

“What?”

“What kind of question is that?!” Wonnie yelled over the phone. “He’s a supervillain! What do you think he’s doing? Wreaking havoc, duh!”

Jay took a deep breath so as to not yell back at this kid. “Yeah, I know. What in particular is he doing?”

“He’s being rude to the apartment staff.” When he was met with a judgmental silence, Wonnie groaned. “I’m serious. I think he’s waiting for you. He’s just being super mean to people right now.”

Damnit.

Jay took a look at the unconscious you in his arms. “Wonnie, I’m going to drop someone by the balcony. Take her in, will ya?”

Before Wonnie could blow up on him for bringing a ‘her’ home, Jay brusquely said, “I’m going down to kick Doctor Discotheque’s ass.”

Of all things in the world, you did not expect to wake up in Jay Park’s bed. 

The next morning, you woke up with probably the worst headache you’ve ever had. You were never one to drink, but maybe the university stress was really getting to you. Groaning, you sunk your face into the freshly-washed white sheets. All seemed normal, until you realized a few things:

First, who took you home last night? You had no memory of anything that happened at the mixer that night. If you thought about it hard, you could probably remember getting ready for it, meeting some, ahem, unpleasant people, talking to a few friends… and really nothing more. In fact, the bedroom you were in right now didn’t look like it belonged to any of your friends. 

Second, you were still in your clothes from last night. And makeup. And hair.

How did you get home last night? 

This was probably the worst hangover you’ve had in a while. Nevertheless, when you realized that there was talking outside the room, you got out of bed to investigate. 

Which led you to possibly the worst thing to ever witness.

Jay Park, with wet hair, shirtless on the couch.

The shrill scream you let out was enough to get a complaint from the neighbors.

“Oh my fuck, calm down,” Jay, in all his bitch-faced glory, rolled his eyes.

“You- You want me to calm down?” You were scandalized. Horrified. “You’re literally- You’re-”

“This is my house,” his eyes bored into you. “I can do whatever I want.”

“This- This is your house?”

He blinked. “Yeah.”

There was another ear-splitting scream before Jay convinced you to sit down so he could explain.

“You don’t need to sit so far away from me,” Jay dead-panned when you sat at the very edge of the couch.

“I don’t want to be near you,” you murmured.

“That's rich coming from someone that was all over me yesterday.”

The utmost and utter horror painted across your face was nearly laughable. 

You?

All over Jay?

Was that why you woke up in his home…? In his bed?

“Oh my god,” you clasped a hand over your mouth. “Did we…”

“No.”

You breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Then how am I here then?”

Jay sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

If you weren't completely stunned into silence from the fact that you woke up in Jay Park’s bed, then you were now. Jay recounted a rather detailed account of what happened the night before– the two of you got drunk, and ended up more than touchy with each other. Your face heated up, with both embarrassment and… anger? 

Frowning, you asked, “Then why’d you bring me home?”

“You were crying and begging me to come back inside with you, but I had to go.” 

You glared at him, crossing your arms.

“Go on.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you out there drunk, you know,” Jay shrugged. “I was going to bring you to your apartment, but I had to fight– I mean– Spider-Man had to fight some.. Um, villain downstairs.”

You nodded slowly, but skeptically. Sensing your cynicism, Jay added quickly, “You can check the news. The fight was on the seventh floor.”

Your ears perked up. “Seventh floor?”

“Yeah-”

“That’s where I live.”

Jay’s eyes widened a fraction. “Shit.”

A great thing about being Spider-Man was that he was technically a government worker, a public service provider. The government paid for all the casualties caused by his work, luckily. Gone were the days that he’d be considered a masked menace.

As great as this was, it led to Jay being more or less reckless. Not that he was throwing shit around and purposefully breaking property when protecting citizens, but he had the freedom to do whatever was necessary. If he had to break down walls to save people, then so be it.

Speaking up, Spider-Man went a little.. Err… crazy last night. Maybe it was the alcohol still lingering in his system, or the fact that Doctor Discotheque the supervillain was literally insane. Safe to say, when fighting in the hallway of the seventh floor, Jay got a little aggressive and broke a few more things than usual.

If you found out that he-- Jay-- was Spiderman, a.k.a. the one that probably damaged your home, he’d be dead. Luckily, you wouldn't find out. Unluckily, your apartment was among those that were damaged last night.

“Can you stop that?” Jay said.

There were many reasons that Jay Park deeply disdained you. You were nit-picky, snobby, arrogant, pretentious, overly-critical, fussy, and extremely judgmental. Everyone thought you were some sort of genius, and he could tell that you liked the fact that they did. 

“I’m fuckin’ stressed,” you spat as you paced around the floor. “I don’t think I can really ‘stop.’”

Not that he was a sick person, but the expression of genuine distress spread all over your face was almost satisfying. But then Jay realized the situation you were in and he knew it was his fault, so he felt just a little bad. 

You lost your phone last night, and your apartment was more than a little damaged, the entire seventh floor being tarped and taped off. Sitting on the couch, you chewed on your bottom lip. It wasn’t even noon yet. Given your group of friends and the events last night, it wasn’t likely that any of them were awake at this time. And you didn’t have your phone- it wasn’t like you could just easily phone someone that wasn’t there last night.

You had a massive headache, feeling lightheaded with a throbbing sensation up there. You felt gross, with smudged makeup and the same tiny dress from last night. You could definitely walk to a friend’s place and wait there, but the heels you wore last night were the tallest, most painful, party-purposed stilettos. You were absolutely not walking around the city in those shoes.

The worst part about it all was that you were stuck in the apartment of none other than Jay Park. 

Could you appreciate the fact that he looked out for you by taking you home? Yeah, sure.

But could you stand him? Absolutely not.

“Why are you walking around like that?” He was getting persnickety, as payback for all the times that you’d been nit-picky towards him. “You’re going to ruin my floorboards.”

You sent him a glare. Some empathy would be nice, you thought, rolling your eyes.

There really was only one person that was accessible to you if you wanted to get out of here, and it was Jay himself. You never really thought that there would be a day where you would need to ask for his help, but here you were, practically stranded. Speaking of, he was ignoring you, occasionally looking up from his phone to give you a weird look.

If you wanted to go home, you would need to swallow your pride and just ask for help.

You prided yourself in your ability to be blunt. You were a natural leader, ambitious and aggressive. You never had an issue with announcing your wants or needs. But now faced with the piercing silence of Jay Park, you simply could not open your mouth to speak. It wasn’t like you couldn't ask him, but that you wouldn't. Curling your lips, you let the glum, nearly shameful, feeling fall over yourself.

Eyes tracing the man’s outline carefully, you swallowed the lump in your throat. 

‘[Name], you can do this,’ you recited to yourself. ‘You can do this. Just talk to him, just talk to-’

You pressed your lips together, before taking a deep breath and opening your mouth to speak. As you attempted to say his name, no sound came out. When he glanced up at you suspiciously,you quickly averted your gaze and closed your mouth.

When he looked away, your eyes flickered back to him, simply drilling into him. You licked your lips. For the second time, you opened your mouth to say his name, bracing yourself for the sound of your voice, but Jay spoke before you did.

“What are you looking at?” 

You stood up straight like a board, pushing up your glasses clumsily.

“I- Well-”you cursed yourself for stammering. You never stammered like this. “I…”

He looked at you expectantly.

Your ego, that fat chunk of an ego, was crumbling.

“Park,” you brusquely said. 

He leered at you. “What?”

You stared at him awkwardly, lips pressed into a line as thin as paper. “I… I.. um.”

He clicked his tongue impatiently. “On with it.”

You huffed loudly. 

“Can I please use your phone?”

The second last thing that you expected to happen ever was to be sitting on Jay Park’s bed with wet hair wearing his hoodie and sweatpants. And that other than asking him for help.

Never have you felt so ashamed of yourself, sitting on the soft bed with your knees up to your chest. 

The judgy glance that Jay gave you was absolutely soul-crushing, and after a humiliating stutter-filled explanation, he simply said, “Go take a shower.”

Were you initially mortified? Absolutely. But after soaking in the warm water for a few minutes, you begrudgingly thanked him. But only in your head.

Staring at a spot on the floor, you pressed your face into your knee, reflecting upon everything that had happened. As you were lost in thought, what startled you was a loud beeping sound, the slamming of a window, and yelling. You jumped to your feet in reaction, but before you could creep out of the bedroom, someone else came in.

Instead of a tall, well-built man with black hair, it was a young boy no older than ten holding a massive walkie talkie.

“Who- Who are you?”

The boy blinked owlishly, before cracking a grin. “Oh, it’s you!”

You recoiled. “Wh-What?”

“You’re the lady from last night!” he laughed, revealing sharp canine teeth. When you only looked more bewildered, he continued, “The lady that Jjongsaeng brought home last night!”

Jjongsaeng? “You mean Park— er, Jay?”

The boy frowned. “He didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend,” he murmured to himself quietly, before turning over to you. “Mhm!”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” You were a little concerned. Who was this child and why was he in Jay Park’s apartment?

“Oh!” The boy laughed again, throwing his head back. He came closer to you, extending a small hand towards you. “Jungwon! But just call me Wonnie!”

Okay, but your question wasn’t answered exactly. “Are you…” you took a better look at Wonnie. He was just so small! Though, he looked an awful lot like Jay Park… – “Are you his son… or…?”

The boy put an offended hand over his chest, scowling deeply. 

“Son?” he gawked. “I’m his brother!!”

Your lips formed an ‘o.’

“And what’s your name?” Wonnie looked at you curiously.

“[Name] [Last Name]– Just– Just call me [Name].”

A silence fell over you two.

“Do you- Do you know where your brother is?” When Wonnie gave you a suspicious look, you quickly added, “I need to use his phone.”

He gave you another long stare, before saying simply, “He’s not here.”

How could he not be here? Jay was just here, like, twenty minutes ago? “What do you mean?” you narrowed your eyes.

“He-” Wonnie’s large eyes hovered over to the window quickly, before fluttering back to you. “He went to work.”

“Doesn’t he have a night internship?”

Wonnie grumbled something under his breath, almost looking stressed, gripping the walkie talkie. “Yyyyyessss,” he nodded slowly. “But he has a day job too…. As an.. Um, photographer?”

You nodded slowly. “Right. When do you expect he’ll be back?”

Wonnie glanced at the window again. “In, like, fifteen minutes-”

Crash!

You two rushed over to the living room window, peering across to the construction site behind the apartment complex. There, there were news reporters, blaring ambulances and police cars, and rubble and dust everywhere. Not to mention the elephant in the room: Spider-Man and two criminals.

“Oh my god, is that Spider-Man?”

Wonnie didn’t seem as impressed as you, opting to toy with his walkie talkie. “Yeah, he’s here all the time. Cool guy.”

You frowned. You lived only a few floors down and you wouldn’t say that Spider-Man was ‘here all the time.’ 

“Really? This is my first time seeing him.”

Fingering the window handle, you pushed it open.

You’d heard all the stories. Your friends talk about seeing the red-and-blue-clad hero with his iconic spider logo. He was some neighborhood hero. According to a few of your friends, he’d help them fight off muggers and creeps, swinging in with his sticky white webs just moments before all hell broke loose. Apparently, he was a super suave guy, and according to a few, really hot. 

“As hot as a masked hero can be,” you would laugh with your friends. Now watching from a few stories up, you could definitely see the appeal. The sun was out, casting a harsh shadow on Spider-Man’s defined back muscles. The skin-tight suit hugged his strong arms and sturdy build. 

There was something so fascinating about Spider-Man. He was strong, friendly, dutiful, sure. But what made him so alluring was that you wanted to study him– dissect him. It was only in your nature to want to know every single inner-workings of a figure like him.

You then felt a poke at your side. It was Wonnie.

“What, are you in love with him or something?”

You tore your eyes from Spider-Man’s figure. “What? No!”

Wonnie raised his brows. “Hmmm… Okay.”

You turned back over to the window, except when you scanned for Spider-Man, he had disappeared completely.

“Hey, where did he-”

The front door of the Park apartment flew right open, revealing a disheveled Jay Park. 

“Y-You’re back already?” Wasn’t he just at a job….?

Jay waved his hand in front of him, taking off his shoes. “Yeah. Why? Were you gonna do something?”

Your nose scrunched. “No! I just thought you were at a job.”

Jay scoffed. “Who told you that-” He cut himself off when he noticed the awkward expression painted across Wonnie’s face. 

“Fuckin’ dumbass,” he muttered.

Jay Park would have never guessed that you would be sleeping in his bed. For the second night. In a row. None of your friends had enough space for you to crash, and if not, they just didn’t pick up the phone. 

“You need better friends,” Jay had told you in a matter-of-fact way, earning a sharp glare. 

And it wasn’t an easy decision to let you stay with him either.

The apartment was a 2-bedroom one. One for himself, one for his kid brother. He sure as hell wasn’t going to make Wonnie leave his room or you and Wonnie share a room, and he most definitely was not sharing a bed with you. He’d make you sleep on the couch, but the Spider-Man in him told him not to. So very grudgingly, Jay let you take his room.

He was only allowing this because it was him that practically destroyed your apartment. Even if he didn’t like you, he did take responsibility for what happened.

Maybe that one argument you had the summer of sophomore year got to him. 

And plus, he could not stand you. All the little jabs you made at him, even down to your facial expressions, had him riled up. But, for the sake of the child in the room, Jay made no big attempt to fight back.

Curled up on the couch, Jay couldn’t shake off the glum feeling that settled on his chest.

Jay Park never realized how many qualms he would have with another person living in his house. 

He was okay with Wonnie, because Wonnie knew his identity as Spider-Man. And plus, Wonnie was his brother– that little squirt was tolerable. When it’s just the two of them, Jay could do basically anything he wanted. Wonnie was more than enthusiastic when he would use his webs to pull objects toward him or hang on the ceiling just because he could, and it was a rather common occurrence for you two to make a ruckus whenever there was crime in town. Jay could go do Spider-Man things whenever he needed to, and Wonnie would be okay with it.

But now with you living with him temporarily, he had to be a lot more careful.

Especially with your nitpicking everything he does.

“Why do you cut your bread like that?”

“Ew, your butter is so hard.”

“Can you stop chewing so loud?’

“Why does your face look like that?-- Oh, hi Wonnie!”

“Hi, [Name]!”

It seemed like Wonnie and you got along better. 

“Hey, where are you going?” you asked from the kitchen table.

Jay, who was putting on his coat and shoes at the door, made a face. Swinging his backpack over his shoulders, he took Wonnie’s hand. “What do you think we’re doing?”

It was a rhetorical question, but you answered matter-of-factly. “Class doesn’t start until nine though!”

Jay pointed to Wonnie. “Gotta take him to school.”

That was only partially the truth. He did indeed take Wonnie to elementary school, but like every morning, he went on a morning patrol. The amount of small robberies and little school children walking into traffic was a bit staggering, but not to worry, Spider-Man was on his way.

Like right now.

As Jay swung from building to building, he carefully scanned the alleyways and streets to possibly catch any crime. When he stopped to rest atop a mix-use flower shop, crouching in his iconic pose, he spotted two children and a man.

Jay’s enhanced senses allowed him to hear the conversation-

“Let go!” one of the children pleaded, pulling away from the man. The other child, clearly the younger one, confusedly held onto the other.

“Kids, kids!” the man chuckled, continuing his tightened grip. “Just come with me. I’m your parents’ friend!”

The older of the two scrunched her nose, continuing to resist the man.

Jay observed from above. Clearly, these children had no idea who this man was. By the looks of it, there wasn’t anyone else around. Even if the kids screamed, no one would come to the rescue quick enough. This weird kidnapper guy could definitely take these kids without a doubt.

Cue the screaming and crying.

Panicked, the man tightened his grip on the kids, jerking them along as he began to walk towards the alleyway.

Fuckin’ creep, Jay thought before shooting a white web at the lampost a few meters down the pavement, swinging down. Extending a leg, he held onto the web as he suspended across the air. As he closed in on the man, he heard the two children let out shrill gasps just as Jay's foot made impact with the man’s cheek.

The brief moment of surprise made the man loosen his grip on the two children, allowing for them to scurry back. Now on the ground, Jay stood over his fallen figure.

Disgusting, he thought as he peered down at the man. Just thinking about what he would have done to the children made him angry. The man groaned in pain. Jay leaned down to the man, bringing a masked, yet somehow patronizing, face to him.

“Hey, buddy!” His words were ordinary, but very clearly filled with contempt. “Whatcha doin’ over there with those kids?”

When the man didn’t answer, Jay stamped a foot right between the man’s legs, impossibly close to his crotch. “C’mon, man. Wontcha explain?”

The panic in the man’s eyes was satisfying, as he began to draw out a pocket knife. 

“S-Spider-Man?!”

Under his mask, Jay cracked a smirk. “Honored to be at your service.”

The man ogled at Spider-Man’s built figure– he stood no chance against the hero. Regardless, he stumbled to his feet, pointing the blade at Jay. “Stay back!”

Jay laughed.

“Oh no! A knife! Anything but the knife!” Jay feigned fear, cowering into himself. “I’m so scared! Please! My biggest weakness is a tiny little knife!”

The man faltered, staring hesitantly at the hero. Jay took this moment to shoot one more web at the street light, giving him momentum to jump in and kick this guy in the face again.

“Oh, man,” Jay chuckled. “That knife really got me.”

“I-I’m sorry!” The man gawked at the hero’s figure standing over him, spluttering as he struggled to his feet and finally scuttling away.

Jay watched his running back carefully.

“Thank you so much, Spider-Man!” he heard the children cheering behind him. Turning over his shoulder, Jay gave them a salute, before shooting a web and swinging away.

When classes for the day ended, Jay Park wanted a head-start on patrolling. The sun was only beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the city. He liked this time of day the most. There was always a faint citrusy smell in the air, and he wished he could take off his mask to feel the wind rake through his hair. 

He checked all the important places– the bank, the university, the bus station, and especially the central business district. The alleyways were crazy notorious for being crime-ridden, so he was extra attentive with the patrol. 

Speaking of, there seemed to be a bit of a conundrum right now. From the top of a high-rise building, Jay’s eyes zeroed in on the figures a few hundred feet below him. It was no uncommon occurrence for there to be some sort of assault (with Spider-Man here, attempted assault) in a dark alleyway. Jay always followed a basic procedure:

Step one: identify what’s happening.

From above, he could see that– oh shit– a woman was going to be mugged. 

Little did he know, much to both of your luck, that woman was you.

Step two: identify the threat.

Two guys, both disheveled, one with a pocket-knife. Even though he couldn’t see your face, just by the looks of it, you were clearly disadvantaged– these two guys were massive compared to you.

“We see ya wallet, girl,” one of the men said. For two people who were very much advantaged, they were rather shy with the knife, holding it low and with little confidence. “Hand ovah the money.”

When you didn’t respond, they got a little more vindictive, slamming the rusted brick wall, demanding for money.

Step three: swoop in and-

Jay was bewildered by the raucous clanking of metal trash can tops against the dirty pavement. Gaping down, he could see one of the men crashed up against the trash cans, and the other one taken aback. 

Did you just…?

Jay was taken by surprise once again when he heard grunting and groaning in pain. You were kicking these men when they were down. With heeled shoes. And it was now that he finally noticed your physicality: [H/C] hair. Glasses. Big attitude. Oh my god, how did he not realize that it was you?

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you landed a kick at the crotch. Jay hissed in pain just at the sight of that. “Huh? You think you own this fuckin’ place?” Another kick. “Fuckin’ scum.”

Jay was contemplating whether or not he should go down there and give you– [Name]-fucking-[Last Name]– a hand. He was going to decide against it, when his spidey senses picked up the very crisp sound of a blade scraping across the pavement. While you were busy cussing out one of the assailants, you didn’t notice the way one of the men unsheathed the pocket-knife. 

Jay could see it— In a matter of seconds, the guy’d bare the blade and shank your right in the abdomen. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, tongue swiping right over his metal lip piercing.

“Hey, fuckface!” In one fell swoop, Jay landed a powerful punch to the blade-bearing assailant’s cheek, sending him flying down the alleyway. you let out a shriek. “Spider-Man?!”

It was weird to see you startled like this. “Hey, Gorgeous.”

In his defense, there was not a bone in his body that thought that you were gorgeous. It was simply a habit he took on when he assumed the role of Spider-Man. He said that to everyone.

The second assailant, the one that you had basically beat up with words, was still keeled against the trash cans, eyes widened and fearful of what the friendly neighborhood hero could do.

Jay leaned down to be at eye-level with the man. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

The man spluttered, and Jay sneered. The kick that the hero gave to the man square in the chest subsequently propelled him down the alleyway, joining his friend at the back. 

“Maybe don’t try to mug someone in broad daylight, bud.”

When Jay heard a few clanking sounds and groans of pain, he turned to you.

You were looking at him with large, shiny eyes, utterly consumed in admiration. Jay cringed at the silence that fell over the two of you. It wasn’t normal for there to be such a calm silence between him and you. If there wasn’t arguing, then there’d be an uncomfortable and tense atmosphere.

“I- Spider-Man…” you said, looking up at him through your glasses. The way that your eyes were practically glued to his masked face had Jay scrunching his nose. After a long silence of you just staring at him, you quickly avert your gaze, finding interest in your shoes instead. God, why were you getting so shy? Seeing the abashed expression on your face was like seeing a police officer get a parking ticket– so fucking out-of-character and just pure unnatural.

Jay wanted badly to make a jab at you, to say, “Hey, Jay Park just saved your sorry ass.” 

But he didn’t. 

Because that’s not what friendly neighborhood Spider-Mans do.

You bit your lip before glancing up at him. It was almost like you could feel his eyes questioning you from behind his mask, and once again, avert your gaze, pushing up your metal frames. 

It was now that Jay truly realized what was going on– Did you have a crush on Spider-Man?

You were acting really shy, and you were looking at him like he was some kind of god. 

The thought made him want to shrink into his own skin, but for some reason, it also made him grin. Grin a smug grin. Because now he had something to dangle over your head.

He didn’t have any sinister intentions other than the fact that he wanted an opportunity to be petty with you.

“Thank you, Spider-Man,” you finally blurted, that bashful look still casted on your face. 

Jesus Christ, the way you were acting soft-spoken and coy was so weird. 

He could do one of two things to fuck with you.

He could be extremely cold and distant, making you feel embarrassed. It would definitely be satisfying to see you panicked and flustered. But then again, Spider-Man’s job was to keep the city safe, not be mean to civilians. Even if said civilian was someone he couldn’t stand.

The second he could do was fluster you in a different kind of way: enthrall you with charm to mess with you. It was certainly a more ethical way to fuck with you, but Jay wasn’t sure if he’d be up for practically flirting with the person he hated more than anything else.

You shyly looked at him, expecting a response.

On second thought, he might be up for it.

He didn’t want to break you. Just fuck with that strong head of yours a little bit.

“Anything for you,” Jay took a step closer to you, just close enough that you would be taken aback, “Beautiful.”

Okay, maybe he should never do that again. Jay was not a lady-charmer. He had no game. There was a reason that he didn’t have a girlfriend, and it was because he could not flirt for shit. His skin was crawling with cringe– what he would do to have the ground open up and eat him whole because that shit was the worst thing he’s probably ever done.

His internal squirming was cut short when he saw the way your eyes widened a fraction, before letting a slight abashed curve settle on your lips. 

“Oh- I-” you lowered your head, your glasses laying on the very tip of your nose. 

“Thanks,” you stammered.

.

.

.

Now it was awkward.

What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No! What the fuck?

“I’m gonna go now,” Jay muttered. Extending his arm and aiming it at the top of the adjacent building, he prepared to shoot a web. However, he was stopped when you gently grabbed onto his bicep.

“Wait.” Your voice was uncharacteristically quiet, meek almost. “I-I don’t feel safe going home now.”

Jay blinked.

Jay Park never seemed to expect anything. 

For the second time ever, in the same week, he was carrying you across the sky to his own home.

This time, though, you were wide awake instead of black-out drunk.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you clung to him as he held onto your body tightly in the bridal-style. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be carrying a damsel in distress like this, but Jay never thought that he would be carrying you of all people. 

With you clinging so close to him, Jay could smell that sweet, citrusy scent again. He grimaced when he was once again reminded of the events that had transpired a few nights ago. Whenever he thought about it, Jay could almost feel his skin crawl, remembering the wet and sticky kisses placed on his skin.

Jay tried to ignore the way you stared at him so incredulously, wide and glinted as if he was some sort of idol.

As Jay approached the edge of the high-rise office building, he noticed you bracing yourself for the jump You’d been shutting your eyes tightly and letting out a little peep every time he’d jump across buildings.

Maybe he should try fucking with you right now.

Launching off his feet, Jay had propelled the two of you into the wide valley between office buildings. Usually, he’d shoot a web within a few milliseconds of just being the air. However, with you in his arms…

“S-Spider-Man…!” you squeezed his bicep. You were falling…! 

Jay was taking his sweet time with shooting another web, waiting for them to be just a few hundred meters from the bustling and traffic-filled road, giving you the illusion that you were about to topple to your death. 

“Spider-Man, we’re gonna–!”

When you were practically dangling over the cars, Jay shot a web up to the next building, hoisting you two up and away.

“What, you don’t trust me, Beautiful?” Jay got some sick satisfaction from shaking up the usually-controlled you. If he was Jay, he probably would have made a jab, say something like “I told you so,” but since he was Spider-Man he stuck to the flashy and charming persona that the hero built himself.

“I… I trust you, Spider-Man, just– Eep!” 

Jay threw his head back, laughing. It was funny when you got scared.

“Stop making fun of me, Spider-Man!” you lightly slapped his chest. “I’m just…– Eep!--”you squeezed his bicep again– “Scared of heights.”

Jay gave your waist a squeeze. “I got you, Angel.”

It was weird to pull up to his own apartment and pretend that it wasn’t his.

“This your place?”

Jay was curious as to what you would say. He dropped you off on the balcony, before going into his iconic crouching pose on the thin metal railing.

You shook your head. “It’s my… friend’s. I’m staying with him because….”

You trailed off, before your eyes fluttered over to Jay’s masked face. “Hey, didn’t you fight some villain the other day?”

Oh.

Right.

The reason that you were even staying with him was because… Well, him.

Jay nodded slowly.

“Oh- Well, um,” you wrung your fingers. “My apartment, it got… Yeah.”

It was like you could sense the uneasiness behind the mask. 

For the heinous amount of crime-fighting that Jay did, he did feel a little bad for the amount of infrastructure that got ruined. It seemed like every other week there were glass shards strewn all across the streets. He couldn’t imagine the type of work that would go into rebuilding homes and infrastructure after so much damage.

That, he will take responsibility for.

He lowered his head. “Yeah, fuck, I’m sorry about that.”

A civilian is a civilian.

“No, no, no!” you said rather brusquely, almost in a hostile way, waving your hands in front of yourself. 

Ah, there it was. The [Name] that he knew.

When you realized your tone of voice, you quickly back-tracked, clearing your throat and pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I mean- It’s okay, Spider-Man,” you said, looking up at him through your lashes. “You did what you had to do.”

If you knew his identity ,you wouldn't say that. You would probably file a lawsuit against him.

But he appreciated the sentiment.

“What’s your name, Pretty?” He needed you to formally introduce yourself so he could stop using those cheesy nicknames.

You smiled bashfully again. “[Name].”

“Then I’ll see you later,” Jay jumped to his feet, balancing on the metal railing. He looked over his shoulder, raising a hand up, “[Name].”

With that he began swinging away.

You blinked slowly, eyes trailing his slowly disappearing figure.

When he was out of your sight, your lips immediately broke out into a wide grin. Taking off your glasses, you used a hand to cover your eyes, feeling your cheeks heat up and pull upward. 

Oh, you understood it now. Why everyone said Spider-Man was so charming.

Using both hands to cover your warm face, you let a few giggles out into your palms. 

God, Spider-Man was attractive.

Your momentary fluster was cut short when the screen door of the balcony slammed open.

“Are you gonna come in or….?”

You turned to look over your shoulder.

Jay Park. Always had to ruin everything, didn’t he?

You huffed, removing your hands from your face. “Yeah… Just, give me a second.”

“Okay.”

When you turned back, you failed to notice the smug grin plastered across Jay’s face.

You heard from many people that Jay Park had an issue with disappearing. You understood what they meant. In the classes that you shared with him (which was few because your majors were different but similar enough), he would be absent for a few days at a time. At parties, even if you didn't actively seek him out, you’d see him at the beginning and after a few minutes, he’d just completely vanish. Even at some get-togethers that your mutual friends hosted, you’d hear some people complain about Jay always needing to “go to his job.” 

Now that you, more or less, lived under the same roof as him, you understood to a whole other degree what people meant.

According to what his own friends said, Jay had a night internship, and according to his brother, he also had a day job. He didn’t show up to his classes some days, but you would see him in the morning before class alive and well, so he clearly wasn’t having health issues. How crazy was his schedule? You had friends in his major with jobs of their own, and they weren’t flaky in the way that Jay was.

Jay would be up early, completely disappear for the entire day, and come home late.

It was weird. 

Not that you cared.

You could care less what happened to him.

You just found it strange.

Like right now.

It was late at night. Finals were coming up soon, and you simply couldn’t sleep. 

See, Wonnie was normal. Wonnie had an ordinary, completely sane, schedule. In the morning, Jay would take him to school, and in the afternoon (you assumed that) Jay either picked him up or Wonnie walked home. Either way, the kid had a much more tangible daily schedule, yet his brother’s was the complete opposite. But it didn’t seem like Wonnie questioned anything either.

You saw Wonnie come in and out of rooms, heard him get a glass of milk, you even said good night to him. 

The yellow-white lights that illuminated the apartment were blinding now, wearing down your eyes to the point that they felt watery. There was a sort of morose feeling that set over you as you sat at the cold kitchen counter. From final exams to the fact that your apartment was under reconstruction to the fact that you were practically intruding on our greatest enemy’s home was frustrating.

It would be completely bitchy and ungrateful of you to not recognize the sort of generosity that Jay displayed toward you. You really, genuinely, truly, could not stand him. He was someone who constantly made your day worse, someone who you'd never been able to agree with for years, someone who went out of his way to bother you– and vice versa. It wasn’t like you had no idea why he’d try to help you: he might be a supervillain to you, but he was no monster. It was clear that you were on a “I-only-doing-this-because-it’s-courteous” basis, but even then, for him to give you his own bedroom was more than courteous.

You didn’t like it.

Of all people in the world, why did he have to be so… hospitable?

You didn’t like the fact that you felt so dependent and almost helpless. 

You must have sat at that kitchen counter for a good chunk of time, because the next time you really moved from your lethargic position was when there was a sudden bang against the window. Lost in thought, you violently jerked up, jumping to your feet.

Eyes quivering to the windows, which were blackened by the dark night sky, there was nothing there. 

Strange.

You had your tongue dig into the inside of your cheek, frozen in place. Just when you thought your mind was just playing games, another loud bang against the window resounded through the room, followed by a few jumbled curse words.

You weren’t exactly happy that the one time you would get robbed it would be in your enemy's house.

Shit.

Except, instead of a masked burglar comically dressed in black, someone completely unexpected bursted through the window.

Red and blue spandex suit, complete masked-over face, and that unmistakable spider icon.

“Spider-Man?!”

Oh.

My.

God.

Why was Spider-Man landing in Jay Park’s apartment at this time?

And when you looked down at what you were wearing– a thin tank-top and pajama shorts–you suddenly became a lot more alarmed and self-conscious than you initially were.

“[Name]?” Spider-Man gaped. Except instead of that friendly and playful tone he was known for, it sounded sour. “What are you doing up at this time?”

You, who was now very consciously covering yourself up, gawked. “I’m– I was studying– What are you doing here, Spider-Man?”

“What do you mean? This is my ho–” Spider-Man stopped himself, before clearing his throat. Like a switch had been flipped, the hero began again, “I’m, um, stopping by to see my friend.”

You blinked.

“Y’know, Jay Park– dark hair, lip-piercing, super handsome and cool.”

Your nose scrunched at the description.

“I didn’t know you lived with him, Beautiful,” Spider-Man continued. “You said you lived with a friend, right?”

You pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I mean, I wouldn’t say friend. We’re like, acquaintances… by association.”

“You don’t sound like you like ‘em very much, yeah, Gorgeous?”

You weren’t about to lambaste Jay Park in front of Spider-man, who was apparently his friend. That would be discourteous, and you weren’t about to flame the guy that was letting you sleep in his house.

“He’s…” You didn’t want to make it seem like you were buddies, especially in front of Spider-Man. “He’s all right.”

Spider-Man was now inching toward you. “Just all right?”

You eyed the hero’s well-built figure as he came closer and closer to you, suddenly feeling shy and exposed. You felt even more shy and exposed when he very clearly lingered around the sight of your silhouette. The way his voice resounded throughout the room, slightly raspy from the yelling he must have done and low due to his exhaustion, sent a chill down your spine. 

“He’s okay,” you responded curtly. “How– How do you know him? How do you know Park?”

You could feel Spider-Man’s eyes on you even through his mask. 

“How do I know him?” Spider-Man crouched down next to your feet at the kitchen island, looking up at you. You could hear the grin in his voice. “He met me in senior year of high school.”

Oh wow. They’ve known each other for a while.

“A spider bit him, or something,” the masked hero continued. “And I found him all sick and sad when his uncle passed.”

That’s right. In senior year of high school, Jay’s uncle, the person who took on a father figure after his parents unfortunately passed. It had taken a toll on him at the time. You remembered passing him in the hallways, seeing the messy black hair overgrown over his brows and dark eye bags. The one person that you regularly debated in AP Macro was no longer interested. At the time, you had contemplated whether or not to reach out to him, but he’d completely shut everyone out.

“That’s great,” you murmured. No matter how much you didn’t like him, it didn’t mean that he should lose someone important to him. “That’s great that he had someone there for him. I remember–”

Spider-Man looked up at you.

“I remember– I tried to talk to him about it once, in… I think it was in Stats?” you recounted. Your lips pressed together before forming a slight curve. “He yelled at me.”

“He yelled at you?”

You almost laughed. “Yeah, he did. Oh man, we never got along in high school– even now– but… It’s not nice to lose someone you love, is it?”

Spider-Man stared at you silently, before quickly agreeing– “Yeah, it isn’t.”

You bit your lip as you recounted. “I wanted to comfort him, but I don’t think he wanted me of all people to do that. At least I tried.” Your eyes fluttered over to Spider-Man. “I’m glad he had someone like you to be there for him.”

Spider-Man didn’t speak.

“Are you and Park close?” you asked.

“Yeah, we are.”

You hummed. “Oh. Do you see each other a lot?”

“Everyday.”

.

.

.

Spider-Man got to his feet.

“[Name], do you want to go on an adventure with me?”

Sometimes you thought you were stupid. Not all the time because you knew you were smart, but some time like now, where you allowed a masked man who may or may have not broken into your enemy's apartment claiming to be his friend to take you around the city at night. And you did it without even telling anyone, so if you got killed in an alleyway no one would know.

Not to worry, though.

Jay Park thought he was pretty stupid, too.

Staying out late at night right before finals week and completely forgetting about the workaholic nerd freak that lived with him temporarily (you). And to make it worse, he mentioned his own civilian self!-- and he obviously couldn’t be in two places at once. 

He needed a way to deflect.

“Wooooh!” Jay hooted as he swung from building to building.

“Spider-Man– Slow down…!”

Unlike the last two times he’d taken you out on some sort of aerial excursion, you had your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his neck and torso, hugging him from the back instead of Jay holding you bridal-style. 

It was nice for a change. For the first time, you were hanging off his back instead of being directly held by him. Jay couldn’t help the snicker that he let out when you would squeeze him and squeal in his ear out of fear.

“I thought ya said you trusted me,” he beamed. Jay could feel the way your face pressed into his back as you dangled in the sky. “C’mon, Gorgeous, don’t get all scared on me now.”

“It’s not fair- Eep!”

“What’s not fair, hm?” He shot another web. You didn't respond, opting to squeeze him harder. “What’s not fair, [Name]?”

“This!” you chided in his ear. “You-You’re not scared because you do this every day!”

“Well, maybe you should do this more then.”

To Jay, it was really weird to carry a frightened you around. He never took you for the clingy type, but maybe there’s a lot he didn’t know about you. It was especially weird when he was Spider-Man, because you were oddly nice to him. When he’s Jay, there’s no denying that you’re hostile.

“Why are you so nervous?” Jay sneered when you two landed on top of the central clock tower. You’d sat down at the top, letting the cool late-Spring night hit you. For someone notorious for their crazy confidence, it was absurd to see such a person all feeble and fiddling with their fingers.

 “It’s just finals,” you mumbled.

Jay nearly laughed. “Wow, you really are a nerdo freak.”

Your cheeks visibly heated up, folding your arms over your chest. “Hey! I’m not a nerdo fre–” You stopped yourself, before you brought your eyes up to the hero. “Did he tell you that?”

The man narrowed his eyes. “W-What?”

“Park is the only person that calls me ‘nerdo freak,’” you frowned, raising up your fingers to make air-quotes. “He’s been calling me that since highschool.”

Oh.

Shit.

“Y-Yeah,” the man responded, sucking in a shallow breath. “He talks to me about you a lot.”

Not true. 

Jay Park doesn’t talk to Spider-Man about anything. 

Because they’re the same person.

You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip. “Really? What does he say about me?”

Oh, this would be awkward.

“Jay thinks you’re really… Uhm…”

There’s two things Jay could do. Tell you his (Jay’s) honest thoughts about you as Spider-Man and effectively make the entire atmosphere both now and at home awkward. Though, it wouldn’t be much of a loss because he (Jay) already made it loud and clear how he felt about you through his words and actions toward you. It would only be awkward because he as Spider-Man was the one expressing it.

The second thing he could do was lie.

“He thinks you’re hot as fuck.”

Oh my fucking god what was he doing.

“Oh… uh… Really?”

Jay wanted to kill himself.

Of all things he could have said, he said thats?– Oh my god, and now you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat– What does he do?

Jay Park was not attracted to you and he will never be! Never! Ever!

It was the first thing that came to his mind! He doesn’t mean it! Jay Park hates you! He thinks you’re ugly and- Well, actually, that’s not true. You’re a very pretty woman, he did indeed get crazy butterflies the night of the soccer mixer, and he did catch himself staring at you a few times, because let’s be honest, the tiny tank-top and pajama shorts looked good as fuck on you– but still-!

“Did he tell you that… or…?”

“Yeah, that’s a direct quote.”

Jay Park! What are you doing?

It wasn’t as though you wanted to listen, really. But it wasn’t until you put together that his bedroom might be right where yours, that you realized you didn’t have much of a choice. It started on a simple night where you opted to study at home, the rain impeding you from walking to the library, as you had forgotten your umbrella. The walls in this complex were never that thick, so you were bound to hear things from your neighbors at times.

So when you heard a soft thumping sound on the wall in front of you, you simply raised the volume of your headphones. Then it continued. An hour had passed. Your face had flushed with heat, a headache beginning to form from how long you had your headphones in. With no other choice but to take them off, you were unable to get anything done that night.

The mornings after were always the hardest for you.

Attempting to act casual in the elavator, as though you hadn’t heard your incredibly hot neighbor have sex for an… impressively long time. He would give you a casual smile, dressed in his usual dark attire and giving off such confidence that almost told you that he knew— and that he got an extra boost from it. You had shook away such thoughts with shame, fidgeting in the elevator as you had tried to forget the sounds that had filtered into your room.

After a while though, you began to think that he simply did not care.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” you growled, eyes begining to blur as you stared at the paper in front of you. It was currently four in the morning, and you were attempting to catch up on any work that you had forgotten to do due to your busy schedule. Yet, as luck would have it, your gracious neighbor Yeonjun decided that it would be absolutely hilarious to have someone over— someone who thought it was acceptable to scream their lungs out, apparently.

“Oh fuck- please, just like that!” The girl’s helpless pants rang out to your room, the thumping on the bed just an icing on the multi topping, multi-tiered cake. You had put up with this for way too long. A victim of pretty privilege, unfortunately, you think, throwing your glasses onto your table with frustration. You glanced at the clock, frowning as you took in the time. It was so late, and yet you got absolutely nothing done. You had classes in the early afternoon tomorrow— or rather, today— and would then have to go to work and do a closing shift.

Whatever, you thought, trudging to your bed in defeat, most of it isn’t due soon anyway.

With exhaustion following you ruthlessly, you flopped onto the bed, tossing and turning under the sheets as you tried to get comfortable. Yet, you couldn’t.

“What the fuck is this guy doing that’s got her going like this?” You yelled out, pounding on the walls as a last resort. Your heart sped a bit as your actions began to seep in, and yet, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief as it seemingly went silent on the other side. Maybe Yeonjun would turn out to be a prick and get pissed off, but you didn’t really bother to think of how this might affect your interaction as you hugged your favorite stuffed animal, sighing in content as sleep seemed to go over you like a heavy weight.

✵☾✵

Your skin felt hot, hotter, hot.

Your eyes opened slowly, only to find yourself in your room. You sighed, mouth falling open as a soft sensation began to drift down… down more… right where you needed it the most.

Fingertips slid over your thighs, warning you to keep your legs open as a pair of lips began to trail onto your inner thighs. The touch was ghost-like, making you doubt if you were even feeling anything at all. An insatiable itch began to form in your stomach, leaving you weak and breathless as you squirmed for more. Your arms attempted to reach out, only to struggle against the restraints that bound you to your bed.

“Please,” you pleaded, saying the simple word mindlessly, unsure of what it was that you were asking for. A dark laugh reached your ears, making you whine uselessly, hips bucking forward onto the soft pair of lips that seemed so close, yet so far.

“Look at you, so desperate for me already,” His voice was soft and smooth, echoing around you like a constant reminder of how easily you crumbled under him. “Barely started and you’re already acting like a bitch in heat.”

Your eyes opened once more as his soft hand cupped your face, squishing your cheeks as he laughed mockingly at you. Your eyes traced over the blurry outline of his lips, the sharpness of his eyes, and his brown hair that fluffed over him like a halo. Gasping, you arched your back shamelessly as you felt his fingers begin to toy with your slit, going slow and steady as they went up and down, penetrating slightly before pulling out, not allowing you to get off in any way.

Closing your eyes in frustration, you whimpered as he slowly began to glide his fingers up, playfully rubbing your clit in circles, his dark eyes watching and drinking up every expression you gave him. His hand on your face slowly let go, sliding down your skin as his eyes flickered down to your hips, watching eagerly as you rolled your hips desperately against his hand.

“You like it, don’t you? Like listening to the way I fuck all those people throughout the night, secretly wishing it was you?” His words made your eyes widen in surprise, shaking your head in denial as you tried to tell him otherwise.

“N… No, I wasn’t trying to,” you said, words falling flat on your tongue as he inserted another finger, leaning down to trail wet kisses on your skin. You whined at the fact that you were the only one in such a vulnerable position, the man above you still fully clothed, but all you got in response was a chaste bite at your neck.

“Then how come I’m here, now, doing all this to you?” He whispered, removing his fingers as he repositioned himself between your legs, ignoring your protests from the loss of pleasure. His dainty fingers dug into the supple skin of your flesh, pulling you against him as he leaned over you.

You had fallen apart completely under his hands, and it was almost embarrassing, if the burning itch of desire wasn’t eating you alive and impairing your thoughts. His lips were everywhere, on your neck, your breasts, your stomach, but never on yours. It was dizzying, the way his touch brought out a daze within you, leaving you a panting mess as you begged silently for more.

“More?” He asked, rubbing your thighs as he pressed against you, chuckling as he listened to your begging for more. Slowly, he began to roll his hips against you, giving you a minimal amount of pleasure before leaning over you, dark eyes watching you closely as he took in your hungry form.

You felt as though a smoky haze was cast upon you, unable to think clearly of what was happening and instead giving in to the man before you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you waited for his lips to meet yours, his face so close that you could feel the soft sighs that came out from him as well.

This was bad, wanting this stranger the way you did. You know it was, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care much with the way his body felt on yours.

✵☾✵

You woke to the horrid sound of your alarm and an embarrassing ache in between your legs. Frowning, you turned away from your window, rubbing at your face as you attempted to erase the fact that you had a wet dream about your neighbor. Your face heated up at the realization, burying your head into your pillow as you let out a horrified scream.

You had a wet dream about your neighbor, Yeonjun.

The same neighbor that happened to have sex so loud that it filtered into your walls.

God, were you a teenage boy or something? You couldn’t bring yourself to get up from your bed, the embarrassment just about swallowing you whole. There’s no way that the… noises from yesterday had caused you to dream about him, right? Standing up with a huff, you made your way to the bathroom, cheeks ablaze as you tried to ignore the feelings that were inflicted upon you.

“There’s no way,” you said, staring at yourself in the mirror. Yet no matter how much you thought you were convinced yourself, you couldn’t help but see your facade crack, an inkling of doubt beginning to show.

“No, there’s no way.”

✵☾✵

The restaurant you worked at could be described in three phrases:

Demanding. Fast-paced.  A personal hell.

But it paid well.

Being a waitress at a more high-end restaurant had its perks, like the large tips you would get from egotistical men who wanted to prove that they were rich, but also had its downsides, such as rude or creepy customers. And as you were told to go host another table, you held your breath, plastering a smile as you were ushered into one of the private booths. Carefully, you opened the curtain to the private booth, only to be left stunned by your absolute luck.

Before you sat Yeonjun and his date, donned in his usual attire and flashing the person across from him a charming smile. You tried to not let your eyes linger on his plush lips, internally scolding yourself as thoughts from your dream began to involuntarily surface. Clearing your throat, you caught their attention, putting on your customer service persona and choosing to push away the butterflies that surfaced at his gaze.

“Hello! My name is ___, and I will be your host for tonight. What can I get you started with?” You plastered on one of your friendliest smiles as you turned to Yeonjun and his date. His eyes seemed to sparkle with recognition as he took you in, from your tired eyes to the disheveled apron that you wore. He proceeded to order a wine for him and his partner, his eyes never leaving you as you wrote the drinks and appetizers down. You shifted nervously under his intense gaze, attempting to push away any thoughts that would impede you from acting casual.

By the time they had ordered their main courses and received their wine and appetizers, you were off being much busier with your other tables, not sparing much thought to Yeonjun again as you tried to do all your tasks quickly and efficiently. And it all went well, until you arrived at the table you were serving that had a baby in a high seat.

“Alright, and here’s the bill for you— oh!” You stumbled back as the child threw their drink, their fruit punch going all over your apron and button up. Taking a deep breath, you grit your teeth as you took in the way the family laughed in surprise.

“Kids, you know how they are!” The mother said, flashing you a bright smile that seemed too joyous considering the context. But you held it together, hands shaking behind your back as you excused yourself, heading back into the break area. Putting your head in your hands, you took a deep breath, trying to not let your anger take hold of you. You couldn’t care less about the child— they didn’t do it on purpose— but the very thought of the way the parents laughed in your face was enough to set you off. But what use would it be to keep thinking about it? You still had well over a couple of hours left of your shift, and as you headed to the bathroom, you were determined to not let a small obstacle hinder you.

“They better give me a good tip,” you grumbled, wiping away at your shirt the best you could, adjusting your apron so that it would cover the parts of your shirt that were stained. Checking yourself one last time, you nodded, reminding yourself that you should go check on your other tables. And as much as you hated it, you were unable to avoid checking yourself one last time as you headed into the private booth where Yeonjun and his date sat, taking in a deep breath as you forced yourself to act professional once more.

When you pulled back the curtain, you were surprised to see Yeonjun sitting there by himself, scrolling through his phone mindlessly. He glanced up at the sound of your arrival, silently taking you in once more as you spoke.

“Is everything alright for you guys?” You asked, watching his eyes slowly slide up to meet yours, not attempting to hide his intentions as he flashed you a coy smile.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” He said, pausing as he pursed his lips, as though in thought, “If I may ask, what happened to your uniform?”

You flushed as he said that, trying to resist the urge to adjust your outfit. “Oh, just some spilled juice,” you said, laughing softly as though it would make any light of the situation, “It’s nothing, really.”

He said nothing at that, humming softly before he stood from his seat, making you step back in surprise. Watching him carefully, you held your breath as he reached out to your apron, beginning to adjust it as he took a step forward, closer to you. His hands made careful work as he adjusted it, making it so that the apron would properly cover the stains on your shirt. With small hesitation, he stopped at your collar, smoothing it out as his eyes met yours.

“Well, we can’t have you going around like this, can we?” He said, his fingertips brushing against your skin. He smiled, pulling away as he watched you try to act unfazed. He stood there, inches away from you and allowing you to smell his perfume— he smelled of lavender, the scent ever so subtle and addicting to your senses. Chuckling softly, you were knocked out of your reverie as he walked back to his seat, slowly sitting down, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

“Much better.”

✵☾✵

Yeonjun hadn’t left your thoughts since then.

It was like a curse, meeting him in the hallways, stealing glances at his form, only to come home and continue to think about him until he followed you to your dreams.

It was embarrassing, you can’t deny it; the extremely detailed dreams have never failed to leave you hot and bothered in the morning, your moods slowly worsening as the days went by, the late night rendezvous of your neighbor long gone. How could you face your neighbor with a smile, all whilst knowing the way your mind subconsciously thought of him? You felt the guilt eating at your mind— hell, you weren’t even proper acquaintances with him, yet these obscene dreams continued to play in your mind whenever you met eyes with him.

Yet with each passing dream, the less you wanted to sleep. Something about those vivid images began to leave you tired and restless, the feeling that you were left with in the morning paired with one of distress. Slowly, you began to sleep less and less, a strange feeling of paranoia festering in your mind whenever you felt as though you were going to fall asleep once more.

The first week was alright. Sure, you were a bit bitter and impatient with others, but you made it through just fine. The second week, however, didn’t go as smooth. A constant headache had begun to build behind your eyes, your patience worn thin as you snapped easily at your friends and coworkers. Yet no amount of guilt and apologies prevented you from making the same mistakes, the people around you beginning to become worried about you, despite your constant reassuring.

By the third week you could feel yourself begin to come apart, your limbs heavy and slow as you walked to the elevator, head cast down and your skin dull from the lack of sleep. You opted to skip out on lunch, choosing to down an energy drink, (which honestly did nothing but speed up your heartbeat— what were you thinking?) and go to your shift as you were, genuinely believing that you would be able to handle a shift tonight. After all, mornings at your restaurant were always calm, having it be almost empty until the evenings.

It hadn’t helped that the weather was getting colder, too. As winter approached, you were forced to wear heavier clothes, waiting outside in the cold at your bus stop in annoyance. You knew that this combination was definitely not good for your health, and it seems as though it had finally begun to catch up with you.

You flinched as you let out a sneeze, looking up as Yeonjun’s deep voice let out a quiet “bless you.” Your eyes met his for a moment, but it wasn’t long before you were looking away, the reminder of the dreams and all the things associated with it coming back to your mind bitterly. The elevator began to move down, your body wobbling as you grabbed onto the rail, suddenly feeling a rush of dizziness go through you. Your body heated up as you closed your eyes, trying to push through before you felt a soft hand being placed on your arm.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Your eyes squeezed shut at the sound of his voice, your head throbbing painfully as you nodded in reassurance. But before you knew it, you were being pulled away from your huddled position in the corner, Yeonjun’s cool hands meeting your skin as he let out a sound of surprise.

“You’re burning up,” He frowned, brushing your hair back as you closed your eyes, muscles relaxing at the feeling of his cool skin on yours. The elevator doors opened, and as you attempted to separate from Yeonjun, you let out a sound of surprise as he pulled you close, the elevator doors closing as he pressed the button for your floor.

“What are you doing?” You asked, voice raspy as you weakly pulled away, “I have to go to work.”

He sent you a glare at that, reaching to wrap an arm across your shoulders, looking back at the doors casually. You tried to ignore the way you shivered, your body seeking warmth underneath his touch as you let him embrace you.

“You can’t go to work like this, it looks like you’ll pass out any moment,” He said, the doors opening once more as he led you out into the hallway.

This was weird, wasn’t it? You had never held a conversation with him for this long, and next thing you knew you were being led to his apartment, barely able to protest as he unlocked the door and led you inside.

“What about you? Don’t you have anywhere to go?” You said, refusing to go any further as you stood at the doorway, meeting his eyes with a defiant gaze. You held your ground as he gave you an unamused look, standing inside his home as he waited for you to give in. But the longer you stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around yourself as you tried to not visibly shiver, the more it became clear to Yeonjun that you were insistent on putting up a fight.

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed defeatedly, “Yes, I do. But it’s not that important anywa—“

“Then I can take care of myself. Sorry to have wasted your time, but I don’t need your help with this.” You said, closing the door before he could answer. Slowly, you stumbled to your door, ignoring the way your heart pounded fast from the confrontation. Stay inside Yeonjun’s home, with him taking care of you? That was the very last thing you needed right now. Fumbling for your keys, you unlocked your phone searching through the contacts until you found that of your job, ready to call sick instead of forcing yourself to go— You’re sure they would send you back home, anyway.

The phone rang as you unlocked your door, clearing your voice as you heard your manager answer. “Hey, this is ___, I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to come in to work, I’ve…” You trailed off as you felt another wave of dizziness wash over you, your world blurring as you attempted to slur the rest of your sentence out.

But before you knew it, the phone slipped from your hand, and you were headed straight for the ground.

✵☾✵

“Why haven’t you come to visit, pretty thing?”

You felt bare under his gaze, hands wrapping around yourself slowly despite you still wearing your uniform, and a winter coat on top of that. But that couldn’t stop the way you flushed under his gaze, the empty room around you hot and humid as you felt sweat begin to build up on your nape.

Your eyes snapped shut as he began to near you, whimpering as a hot wave of need washed over you. You knew what was going on. After countless weeks of the same situation, it was hard to not recognize what was going on. Your thighs rubbed together with discomfort as you backed yourself up against the chair you sat in, head bowing as he towered over you as easily as he was always able to do.

“Please, leave me alone,” you whimpered, feeling guilt seeping into you as you felt the way your body itched for his touch. You practically sighed as you felt his cool hands rest on your knees, gently spreading your legs apart as he stood in between them. Your eyes opened as he kneeled down, humming softly as his hands ran over your tights, fingers occasionally slipping under your skirt teasingly.

“Guilty? You shouldn’t be,” He said, tone lowering as he trailed gentle kisses along your thighs, dangerously close to where you needed him the most.

Before you knew it, your coat was being slipped off, and the man before you was staring at you again, wearing that same hungry expression that you always remembered seeing in your dreams. The room around you began to heat up, and as your eyes fluttered shut, you felt his breath fan across your skin, his lips brushing against yours teasingly.

“Give in,” he sighed, hands trailing down once more as he caressed your skin softly, “Give in to me.”

Yet as he waited for an answer, you felt your brain snap, eyes opening as you looked at the man before you— or rather, this false image of a man you barely knew.

Your stomach twisted as he looked back at you, a strange feeling forming in your gut the longer you stared at him. He was getting impatient, you could tell, but no amount of pleading or need would be able to get rid of this nauseating feeling of danger that was running through your veins.

“I can’t,” you said finally, leaning back as he attempted to chase your lips with disappointment, “please, let me go.”

Your heart began to race as you watched the way his eyes ignited with rage, the room around you darkening until you could no longer see anything but him. He remained silent, fingers beginning to dig into your thighs painfully as you let out a cry of surprise. Your eyes widened as you felt the skin underneath his hand begin to burn, thrashing uselessly as you attempted to get away from him, only for him to hold you still. Pulling away, he disappeared, leaving you to glance at your thigh to catch sight of what happened.

A mark was burned into your skin, clear for you to see despite there being no light source in the void you resided. And as you felt yourself begin to be pulled away from this dream, you stared at the mark worriedly, the eye etched in your skin staring right back.

✵☾✵

You woke to the sight of Yeonjun towering over you, a concentrated frown etched on his face. You groaned as you felt a cool cloth being pressed to your forehead, the man's eyes flickering down to you in surprise as you stirred awake.

“You’re awake,” he mumbled to himself, leaning back as he watched you sit up slowly, assisting you as you rubbed at your eyes, taking off the wet cloth on your forehead.

The room before you was unfamiliar, and it wasn’t until you glanced down at the sheets on top of you that you realized where you were, your already heated face flushing more at the realization. You were in Yeonjun’s apartment— and you were currently laying on his bed, despite all your protests and refusals for help.

“What happened?” You questioned, putting your face in your hands as you attempted to hide your embarrassment. He had taken your jacket and shoes off, spotting them placed on the chair that was placed in the corner of his room, along with your purse. Your legs rubbed against the soft blankets, feeling better now that you had a bit of rest. The last thing you remembered was calling your job, and then…

“You fainted,” He said, finishing your thoughts as you eyes snapped up to meet his. His gaze was stern as he looked down at you, seeming as though you had been friends for a while and he knew you well. But that wasn’t the case, you thought to yourself, shifting in the bed with discomfort, you barely knew this man.

“I heard the noise and went to check on it, and that’s when I found you on the ground, still on the phone with your job,” he sighed, sitting down in the chair that was in the corner of his room. You shivered, choosing to look somewhere else as you were reminded of the dream you had earlier. “I called off for you, so you should be alright in regards to that.”

“Oh, thank you,” you coughed, feeling the awkward silence seep into you as you fiddled uselessly with your fingers. “I feel better now though, so I think I’ll be heading back to my apartment now.”

Hearing your words, he looked up, a strange glint forming in his eyes. You felt a shiver go down your spine as he smiled, leaning forward as he asked, “Are you? You were having some pretty bad dreams earlier, what was that all about?”

Feeling as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped on you, you froze, eyes widening as you began to explain yourself.

“No, I’m alright, just— just nightmares, that’s all.”

He raised a brow at that, leaning back with an unconvinced smile, quietly watching you justify yourself. “Nightmares, hmm? They seem pretty extreme.”

Your mind drifted off to the nights when you would dream of the pretty man in front of you, almost being able to feel the ghostly touch of his fingers, his mouth, his tongue, roaming around your body. You cleared your throat softly, pushing away those thoughts as you nodded, beginning to stand as you spoke.

“Yeah, they’re pretty uhm, bad.” You said, watching as Yeonjun stood as well, handing you your things as he began to lead you to the entrance of his home.

He hummed thoughtfully at your comment, watching you slip on your shoes as he opened the door, lidded eyes carefully observing you as he spoke.

“Well, lack of sleep is often the cause for dreams,” he said, standing in the doorway as you turned to him, “If you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to come to me,” he spoke, giving you a small smile as you nodded, shifting nervously at the doorway as you thanked him for helping you.

“No problem,” he said, stepping back as you turned, ready to go back to your apartment. “Hope you feel better soon, get plenty of rest,” he called out, slipping in one last comment before you slipped in your apartment, feeling your stomach churn at the very thought.

Sleep was the last thing on your mind right now.

✵☾✵

After the incident, Choi Yeonjun had become, more or less, friends with you.

He had made it a personal mission to begin checking on you every day, the constant knocking becoming so annoying after a while that you opted to just allow him to come in unannounced.

It didn’t slip your mind how strange it was that you and your neighbor had gotten so close so quickly, yet, at the same time, you didn’t really complain about it either. You had grown fond of Yeonjun and the strangeness that seemed to come with him, happy to have someone who looked out for you in your otherwise quiet and uneventful life.

However, the dreams had yet to cease, and so had your attraction towards the said man. Nights full of your darkest desires would manifest themselves in your dreams, the feelings getting stronger and more vivid with every passing night. It filled you with guilt, and it frustrated you to no end as you tried to face him during the day as though nothing was happening once you laid in your bed and fell asleep.

You had tried everything in the book to try and get a more ‘peaceful’ sleep. Fixing your sleep schedule, meditating, drinking tea— plus anything and everything that seemed to work on the internet. Yet the dreams ruthlessly continued, and your attraction to Yeonjun only seemed to grow.

“Hey, are you there?”

Blinking with surprise, you tried to suppress your startled jump as you looked up to find Yeonjun looking at you curiously, holding a bag of take out as he approached where you sat on the couch.

“I brought some food, I knew you’d be too busy doing work to eat properly,” he said, pointedly looking at the mess of papers and textbooks that scattered around your coffee table. You laughed weakly at that, scooting over as you made room for Yeonjun to sit, watching eagerly as he opened the two white to-go boxes.

“You shouldn’t have jjun, really,” you sighed, eyes widening as you tried to suppress the feelings of delight as you gazed at the food. Yeonjun shook his head, handing you your food with a disapproving sigh.

“Don’t worry about it,” he began, taking a bite out of his Torta as he signaled you to eat yours as well. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to, you know.”

You smiled at that, averting your gaze as you shifted on the couch. You’re sure he doesn’t mean it the way you think he does, but it still doesn’t stop you from wishing otherwise.

You passed the time with idle talk as you ate, feeling yourself sink into the couch as you finished your food, the scent of the man next to you filling your senses and lulling you into a calm that you couldn’t escape. You fought to listen to what Yeonjun had to say, but the more you felt the warmth of his body near you, the more you felt the pull of sleep tug at your body, opting to give in despite your mind’s protests.

✵☾✵

You didn’t mean to fall asleep.

No, you really didn’t— especially now of all times.

Yet, as you had finished your food, you couldn’t help but feel a sudden tiredness wash over you. Maybe it was because of the relentless studying that you had done, but your body had been practically begging you to give yourself a rest.

And now you’re here. On the couch, that is.

But you’re not alone.

“I want you,” his words rang in your ears, the room around you cast in a red light and completely empty save for the couch you currently laid on.

“I want you so bad, wanna taste you. Can I?”

You couldn’t help but whimper uselessly at his words, hot pants escaping you as you felt the way his hands roamed around your body, lingering at the supple flesh of your thighs, just as they had done many times before.

“Please, please, I need you,” you felt shameless as you spoke, opening your eyes as you watched the way he smiled down at you, eyes dilated and hands eager as he pulled you to sit up, slowly laying down on the couch as you stared at him in wonder.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, allowing him to position you to straddle his lap, hands settled at your hips as you hovered over him. Yet he simply looked up at you with his lidded eyes, brown hair splayed out on the couch as a hand began to sneak up your shirt, the other toying with the hem of your sweatpants, slowly hooking underneath your panties and beginning to pull it down as he spoke.

“I want you to sit on my face,” he said, watching the way your body flushed with heat at his request. You looked down, spluttering in disbelief as you waited for him to take it back or pretend that it was a joke— he remained serious.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m stronger than you think,” He breathed out, seeing right through you as though he knew what you were thinking. Lifting your knees to allow him to slip off your sweatpants, you allowed him to guide you up, your heart racing as you slowly adjusted yourself, the doubt yet to disappear from your mind.

“Please, let me make you feel good,” he whispered, eyes locking with yours as he waited for your nod of approval. Swallowing hesitantly, you nodded, watching as he groaned happily, slowly lowering you as a warmth began to spread through you.

There was no hesitation in his movements. He ate you out like a man starved as you tried to not buck your hips into his face, the suddenness of it all leaving your body tingling all over. His movements were bold, his tongue massaging your clit as you began to feel one of his hands trail down your thigh, slowly, until you finally felt one of his slender fingers begin to rub along your slit.

You let out a surprised gasp as you felt him tease your hole, his finger gently getting sucked in until he pulled it out meanly, his plush lips wrapping around your clit and sucking harshly to quiet your whines of protest.

“Ah— fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” you mumbled, hands flailing around uselessly as you tried to find something to hold on to, until you finally settled down, one hand gripping onto the couch cushions, the other tangled into his brown hair.

“Please, please Yeonjun,” you whined, looking down to find the said man staring back up at you, lips disconnecting from you as he raised a brow, pulling you away to speak.

“What do you want, hmm? Tell me,” he said, lips tugging themselves into a teasing smile as you took in the glimmer of his chin, embarrassed to find that all of that had been because of you. But you couldn't bring yourself to care much the more you waited, the build up inside of you making your head fog with need as you began to beg.

“I need you,” you breathed out, fingers running through his hair as you looked into his intense eyes, “I want your mouth, your hands— please, I want you to touch me,” you begged, hips rolling uselessly over nothing as you begged.

You watched as he thought over your request, his free hand beginning to lower you down once more, eyes darkening as you let out a whimper. Slowly, he began to tease your slit once more,  collecting all the wetness that had formed before beginning to go inside you, teasing you as he barely went in, his lips beginning to wrap around your clit once more.

You let out a moan of surprise as he finally entered you, long, slim fingers caressing your walls and hitting all the places you had never been able to reach before. Your hips began to roll along with his ministrations, head lolling back as he curled his fingers, stroking the exact spot that made your mind go blank.

His name was like a drug, heavy on your tongue yet coming out easily as you begged him not to stop, hips bucking into his face roughly as he looked up at you, gaze sharp and eyes lidded as he watched you come undone, your moans and whimpers lighting a fire inside him that only grew stronger with every passing moment. The tight coil in your stomach only grew stronger with time, loud pleas for the man under you to continue leaving you without much thought as you began to buck on his face, eyes shutting tightly as you focused on the dizzying feeling that ran through your veins.

“Use me. Use me like I’m your toy, come for me.”

His voice filled your head as your hands curled into his hair, the tight coil in your stomach bursting as your mind was filled with euphoria, loud gasps and whimpers escaping your lips as you rode out your high. He continued his movements, helping you ride out your orgasm as your body slackened and stilled, allowing him to pull you off as he sat up, putting you in his lap as he grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him as he cleaned his fingers off, eyes never leaving yours as you watched, feeling entranced the longer you stared at him.

“Say you’re mine,” he whispered, hand holding onto your face as he hovered closely, lips brushing over yours as he spoke. “Say you want me, tell me you’ll give in to me.”

His voice was deep and smooth as his request rang in your ears, your mind fogging over as you felt the hard bulge underneath you, feeling how his hands pulled you down and allowed you to grind over his jeans. You whined, turning into putty in his hands as you nodded, trying to not chase his lips desperately as your eyes fluttered shut, the roll of his hips too much for you to handle.

“I’m yours,” you sighed, hovering above him as your clumsy hands began to unzip his pants, feeling his dick brushing against your thighs, the pre-cum that leaked from him sticking to your thighs, taking in the small moan that slipped past his lips. “I want you, please, just fuck me.”

“You’re mine,” he whispered, pushing you onto your back as you stared up at him, watching as he hovered over you, eyes darkened with lust, “Mine.”

Your body stilled as you felt him align himself to you, pushing in slowly as he took in the feeling of being inside you. Your eyes closed, a slight gasp escaping you as you began to take in  his size, body becoming accustomed to the feeling of him as he gave you a moment to adjust. Your hands immediately went to grasp at his neck, pulling him down as you locked your lips with his.

Any sounds that might have slipped out of you were quickly swallowed up by Yeonjun, his plump lips working against you like a spell as you were left stupefied, the feeling of his hips beginning to move against you sending a paralyzing pleasure to your mind.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear this,” he groaned, hips brutally beginning to snap against yours as he took in the whimpers and moans that slipped past your lips, “my pretty thing, I’ve waited for you for so long.”

Your mind could barely process his words no matter how hard you tried, the dizzying feeling of his cock pulsing inside your walls and hitting just the right spots leaving you to whimper uselessly to his words. Your hand mindlessly tangled in his hair as the other raked down his back, leaving marks and scratches as he groaned at your actions.

His fingers began to trace your sensitive nub as he began to go faster, wanting to hear any and every sound that could possibly come out of your mouth. You flinched at the contact, a surprised yelp leaving you, eyes opening as you took in the way his dark eyes stared down at you, eyes raking greedily over your body and your features, taking in every miniscule expression that he caused.

“That’s it,” he panted, leaning over you as he grasped your legs, hoisting them on his shoulders to set a faster pace. His face hovered teasingly above yours, lips enticing and begging to be kissed as you chased after them, locking him in a kiss as you felt your high approaching quickly.

“Ah, I’m close…” you breathed out, eyes hazy as he pulled away, the soft pants of his breath caressing your skin. A sly smile painted itself on his face as he sat up, hands gripping at your hips as he continued to thrust harshly inside you, focusing on getting you to your high quickly.

“Yeah? Gonna cum?” He said, laughing meanly as he listened to your whines, his hips snapping brutally against your skin, reveling in the way your pussy clenched and fluttered around him.

You nodded dumbly, mouth left open as his hand found its way back to your clit, rubbing harshly as your whimpers made its way to his ears, encouraging him further as your hips began to buck up once more.

“There you go princess, fuck me back,” he muttered, lidded eyes drinking in your expressions greedily.

The world around you spun as you felt the tight wave of pleasure wash over you, your eyes fluttering shut as you threw your head back, listening to the sounds of the man above you as you felt yourself tighten and flutter around his cock.

“Fuck, such a good girl, creaming my cock like this,” he said, ignoring the way you attempted to squirm away from him, the sensation of him still inside you leaving you weeping from overstimulation.

Noticing your watery eyes, he leaned over you, kissing away your tears as he picked up his pace, chuckling darkly as you raked your nails along his back.

“Are you crying, my darling?” He whispered, listening to your pleas and comments about being too sensitive, “I’m almost there princess, you’ll take it, won’t you?”

You find yourself nodding despite yourself, eyes squeezing shut as he continued to fuck you just right, finding yourself approaching another high to your surprise.

“My little fuck toy, you like being used like this, don’t you?” He mocked, feeling the way you were beginning to tighten around him once more, “Already feel your pussy begging for more.” You agreed mindlessly, feeling his words affect you as yet another orgasm approached, his pace unrelenting and the very air around you like an aphrodisiac as you begged for more.

“Ah, don’t tighten around me like that, I won’t last long,” he warned, feeling his hips stutter as you looked up at him, eyes shining and lips parted in wonder as you felt the overwhelming pleasure come to you in heavy waves.

“Please,” you begged, legs tightening against him as they begged to close, “I-Inside,” you were reduced to nothing as you begged him that one worded request, hoping he understood as you began to roll your hips along with his rhythm. His eyes widened as he stared down at you, groaning lewdly as he took in your request, brown hair messy and sticking to his forehead.

“Fuck, you want me to fill this pretty pussy up?” He said, hands roaming around your body as he listened to your pleads and begs, “You’re too good to me,” his pace grew messy and his hips stuttered as he listened to the lewd sounds that rang out into the air, the impending orgasm that he had been holding back washing over him as he gave in, moaning loudly as he towered over you, hips continuing to thrust as brought you to your own high.

The feeling of his warm seed spurting inside you was enough to bring you to your high, sighing softly as your body slackened, sweaty and tired as you allowed him to fall on top of you, a panting mess as you tried to catch your breath. Slowly, he continued to fuck his cum into you, the filthy noises ringing out into the air as you whimpered in protest, pushing against his shoulders to get him to stop.

“No more,” you whimpered, eyes closing as you felt the exhaustion of it all seep into you. He chuckled, sitting up as he captured your lips in a soft kiss, your hands automatically wandering up to tangle in his hair.

“I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” he said, your eyes opening as you took in his ominous words. You frowned, pulling away from him to look at his face. He smiled down at you, the world around you beginning to fade as he spoke once more, his eyes seemingly glowing despite your darkening surroundings.

“All mine, at last,” he said, grip tightening around your waist painfully, “wake up, my princess.”

✵☾✵

You woke with a fiery heat to your cheeks and an awful dread as you sat up, looking around your apartment wildly as you looked for the one person who was single handedly driving you insane.

It was empty.

His words rang throughout your head as you pulled at your hair, eyes squeezing shut as wild theories began to course through your mind. The teasing glances, the dreams, the way it all stopped after you finally talked to him.

The eye that was etched into your skin.

“Whatcha thinkin bout?” Your head snapped up as your eyes locked with Yeonjun’s, subtly taking in his appearance as you noticed the rumpled state of his clothes and hair.

“Do you know?” You whispered, deciding to test out your theory, the weeks of torment piling up to this confrontation that you never would have guessed would happen.

You took in the way his eyes flickered at your words, a frown etching itself into his face as he tilted his head, raising a brow at you curiously.

“Know? Know about what?”

“Don’t you play dumb with me Yeonjun,” You began, irritation seeping into your tone as you stood, approaching him as you let out all your frustrations and thoughts, “You know. About the dreams. You know.”

He shook his head slowly at that, crossing his arms as he looked down at your disheveled state. From your ruffled hair, blown out eyes, and flushed skin, you’re sure that he could’ve guessed what you were talking about even if he didn’t know— But he does.

“I’ve waited for you for so long.”

The signs have been there all along; How could you not have seen this sooner? It was too crazy to believe, but you didn’t have any other choice as things— the dreams— didn’t seem to be going away any time soon.

“I know you’ve been having trouble sleeping,” he says, voice low as he stares back at you, at the anger that’s coursing through your eyes, “And that you’ve been having bad dreams.”

Your eyes scan his face carefully, your heart beating fast as you search for any signs that he may be lying; Yet you can’t find anything. The only thing you can find is the confusion in his eyes and the patience in his tone, despite looking at you as though you’re insane— and maybe you are.

This is insane. You could barely look at the man before you without feeling the weights of guilt wash over you, somehow feeling even more tired despite getting what you thought would be proper rest.

An uneasy filled your being the longer you looked at Yeonjun, his very face reminding you of all the nights you spent tossing and turning in your bed, afraid to go to bed and face the guilt that your subconscious made.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, leaning forward to rest your head on his chest, feeling the madness of it all fall on your shoulders, “I just… I don’t know, it’s been bothering me.”

“Your dreams?” He asked, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close. You nodded, looking up to find Yeonjun already staring at you, a dark glint in his eyes as he spoke.

“I thought you enjoyed yourself.”

Your heart sank as you pushed him away, backing up as you stared at him with disbelief. Yet he simply watched, face blank as you attempted to stutter out a proper sentence.

“You- You said—“ your hands shook at your sides as you tried to comprehend what was going on— What Yeonjun was admitting to. “How… What are you?”

The room around you darkened. Were you dreaming? All of the exits had disappeared from your sight, and now it was just you and Yeonjun, the said man who stared at you with eyes that glowed and a cruel smile with fangs that poked at his lips.

“My princess, you called for me,” he said, approaching you slowly as crackling sounds rang out through the room, two black wings breaking free from Yeonjun’s shirt as they fluttered behind him, “Your very own incubus.” you gasped in disbelief at the sight as you backed up, your back harshly colliding against a wall. A wall that hadn’t been there before— you were trapped.

“I searched for you everywhere, bringing home different women that called for my attention almost every night.” He stood in front of you, a careful hand grasping at your face as he forced you to look up, eyes softening at the teary doe eyes that looked back at him.

“They screamed for me to look at them, to touch them. And I did,” He whispered, swooping down to hover above your lips, “But they weren’t you.”

Despite your mind screaming at you to run, your body was trapped under the spell that was Yeonjun, his soft lips easily finding their place with your own, finding yourself trapped under Yeonjun’s body as he leaned over you, soft hair brushing against your face as he pulled away.

“So I tried to find you the only way I could,” he said, eyes examining your body slowly, “Through dreams.”

You shook your head, eyes closing as you felt the betrayal of it all fall on you; You trusted him, you allowed him to take care of you, to see you in your most vulnerable moments— Just to be the one behind it all. Nights of guilt and stress, spent losing sleep as you were filled with paranoia, only to have the very person you felt guilty for be the cause.

“I trusted you,” you whispered, unable to hide your hurt as you spoke. He frowned at that, stepping back as he took in your disturbed state, a look of confusion and denial swimming in his eyes.

“You called for me, princess,” he said, face shifting to that of anger. You couldn’t help but shiver under his gaze, afraid to meet his eyes as his tone grew angrier and angrier. “I spent so long looking for you.”

Tugging at your arm, he pulled you forward as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he got a hold of your face, forcing you to look at him as he smiled down at you.

“You gave in to me,” he whispered, taking in the way your body began to relax, the air around you thick and familiar as you felt yourself entranced by his eyes, the room around you fading away— It was just you and him.

“No…” you whimpered, the reminder of your actions coming back to you, of the words that came out your mouth without much of a thought. Had you meant it?

“Yes,” he said, eyes sparkling as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, your eyes staring at the void in front of you— You were no longer home. He laughed darkly, caressing your face gently as though the world around you hadn’t just collapsed. “You waited for me to come for you.”

Your eyes widened as you listened to his words, heart dropping as you realized what was going on.

“And now you’re all mine.”

he watched you ticked off the boxes earlier and finished with the payment. most of the groceries were secured.

so your sudden concern baffled him until he turned to find you hiding behind his muscular back, your legs knocking into the paper bag placed between his knuckles.

"what's wrong?" sunghoon abruptly stops, colliding with you. your brows pinched together and your mouth slightly parted when you kissed his sturdy arm.

"what?"

"why are you hiding behind my back?" exactly, why are you hiding behind his back?

you drop your head, dread climbing to your lips and sealing all the answers down your throat. "–did you see your ex?"

"no!" you hurriedly clamped your palm to your mouth, tilting your head to get your best friend out of vision.

you cast a glance at the saleswoman standing roughly eight meters behind sunghoon, desperately hoping for some psychic shield to keep the two of you from becoming her target.

except she's already smiling at you and sunghoon with sparkling eyes and pearly white teeth. the lady has a leaflet for the same products featured on the booth in one of her grasps.

"eurgh, she saw us!" sunghoon caught her eyes, involuntarily smiling at her before returning his stare to you.

his smile soon morphed to a chuckle when he felt you reaching for his sweater arm. "god, i'm so bad at saying no to these…"

your ultimate fear will always be a salesperson. you’re typically envious of folks that draw in others like magnets, words traveling from their mouth complemented with confidence.

given that a part of you wishes you possessed the courage of a salesman, who can effortlessly approach people and talk about the goods they sell like a top student delivering their slides.

in the worst-case scenario, someone even grabbed your arm to show you their products. but, money makes the world go round, you guess, so being social is unmistakably advantageous.

"what?” sunghoon reassure you, his free hand reaching for your wrist, "just say you're not interested and walk away." sunghoon is already moving before you can utter anything, the contact driving your feet to action. you two made your way to the exit.

you discreetly followed your tall best friend until the saleswoman, as expected, hopped into sunghoon’s path as she handed him the flyer. you stood there in awe when sunghoon respectfully raised his hand to refuse the sale.

the woman nodded understandingly, and then it was your turn.

she expertly slipped herself between the linked arms, loosening sunghoon’s grip on your wrist as you feel your stomach acid gurgle at the same moment sunghoon walks away, expecting you to do the same.

"hello, miss! mind if i borrow a little bit of your time?"

this is not borrowing your time. this is robbery.

your sight bounced between the saleswoman and sunghoon, deafening eyes pleading to him to save you. sunghoon, on the other hand, never looked back. the saleswoman waited attentively, her eyes never blinking, causing your hair to stand on end.

"ah ye–yeah, sure," you mentally slam your head into the marble floor at your own reaction. it hurts to say no, so you stand there watching the lady excitedly pull you to her booth.

"i see that you're getting groceries with your boyfriend!"

"no, he's–"

"oh miss, it’s fine! most of my clients moved in with their partners as well, and i’m not exaggerating when i say they must have an air purifier."

"oh–”

"especially for you miss, i saw you walking out of the pet store over there, you must have a pet at home right?"

what the hell.

"yes…"

"aww, what kind of furry friend is it? a dog? rabbit?"

"a cat."

you swear you can feel sweat trickling down your back as the woman stretched her hand with her eyes shut. "persian?"

"uh–no, a scottish fold." she gasped dramatically, and your heart missed a beat.

"how cute! i love cats with fluffy fur and folded ears, but their fur can itch everywhere and cause allergies. as a cat owner, i’m sure you agree, miss. as you can see, our air purifier would be wonderful for you-"

"what's going on here?" after a while, the familiar voice reverberating in your head makes you want to punch his calm face. but not in front of the agent, especially that she believes sunghoon is your boyfriend.

you don't even have a chance to explain since she keeps cutting you, and something deep within you feels relieved when sunghoon finally stepped in.

"oh hi, sir!" exclaimed the lady to your best friend. “i was talking to your lovely girlfriend; you're so lucky, she's not only gorgeous but also a cat lover."

your cheeks warm up at her remarks, and you're fairly certain it's actually from sunghoon's amused gaze on you. you moved your attention away from the conversation and settled on a particular air purifier.

"right now we are offering a special offer for our products including the air purifier, so it's a great opportunity for the both of you to purchase it!"

"actually, we already have this at home."

home?

you stare at his side profile, the nasal bone's high bridge causing you to draw the air between your teeth.

"the air purifier?"

"yup, installed five months ago."

sunghoon always came across as the more outgoing and assertive between the two of you. he’s no doubt gifted with words, and his poker face conceals everything, but you're not expecting him to persuade the saleswoman with such ease. for instance, he refused her flyer without saying anything.

the saleswoman nodded slowly, racking her brain for two new clients. "oh, i see. why not take a look at our other products? we have a mattress, air conditioner, water purifier, and even bidets!"

you brush sunghoon's hand in the hopes of escaping the booth when the lady is not watching. the man nodded, his sleeve resting on your shoulder. sunghoon stroked your skin gently with his, providing comfort making you gasp quickly.

"i’m so sorry to break it to you, but we already bought those. by the way, the mattress is really comfy; my girl sleeps like a baby every night," he draws you closer at the word baby, and you agree with the most convincing smile you've ever shown to the woman.

my girl.

the subtle tingle on your arm tells you that sunghoon is pleased with your reaction, praising you with his fingers. but he has no idea you want to tumble to the floor right now, your heartbeat vibrating all through your body.

at this awkward moment, your best friend is making you nervous.

"oh my god, that's absolutely adorable! i’m honoured to be a part of the service considering you seemed to enjoy what we offered. thank you so much for your time."

the bright smile never left her lips, and you two bowed as you stepped out the door, releasing the breath you'd been holding for so long. "do you think she knows you're lying?"

"i bet she hears that everytime."

sunghoon slips into the driver's chair and you get into his car, fastening the seat belt with a whole lot racing through your mind.

"but, why'd you keep up with the lie?"

"what lie?" he frowned, twisting his body to look at you, and your mouth became as deserted as sahara.

"that i'm your– girlfriend."

sunghoon cracks up at your muttered response, triggering you to feel anxious. "why are you laughing?!"

the male scans his side mirror before slowly pulling his car out of the lot and smiling at you, his fangs dug into his lower lip.

"it's not everyday i give you clues to be my girlfriend."

And you should have known better than to let him charm his way into your house. “What are you doing here, Hoon?”

He loves the way his nickname rolls off the tip of your tongue, it's so addictive and he wants to record it so that he can play it again and again, even if your tone is one of spite.

“Happy birthday princess,” Sunghoon completely ignores your words, taking steps closer towards you, “now, where’s my birthday kiss?”

He’s at it again, aimlessly flirting with you. You roll your eyes, a deep sigh exiting your mouth, “it’s my birthday, Hoon.” How did he even know where you lived? You were sure you told everyone you invited not to bring him along.

“So I’ll give you a birthday kiss,” he grins, eyes glinting with mischief as he watches your facial expressions fall, ears burning red as you quickly turn around.

You hate Park Sunghoon and the unimaginable hold he has on you. “I’m going to find my mother. Do not, I swear to god, cause any trouble.”

“Your mother? It’s a little early in the relationship,” he moves swiftly to your side, arms casually slinging over your shoulder as he pulls you closer into him forcefully. “But it’s okay, I’m ready.”

Where in the world does Sunghoon get his cocky attitude from, you think as you try your best to pry and lift his arm away from your shoulder. Despite your surface indifference towards his advances, there were millions of butterflies invading your stomach at his every single action.

Before you can even try to escape, a voice calls your name and you stop to talk to Yunjin. “Park Sunghoon? What are you doing here?”

Sunghoon steals a glance at you, and he thinks you look absolutely adorable as you pout at the image of multiple people seeing you with him; given how you always seemed to have complaints about his overly flirty nature and playboy ways.

But Sunghoon hasn’t fooled around since you transferred into Decelis two months ago, a personal record for him. At first all you were was a form of entertainment, someone who had cute reactions to his smooth pick up lines.

Then it all came crashing down, when he started to feel the need to bicker with you everyday and mess up your hair every time he sees you in the hallways. And somewhere in between the blurred lines, he fell in love.

“Here to celebrate my girl’s birthday,” he cocks his head towards you, who’s palms now cover your face in sheer embarrassment. God, now it’s going to spread like wildfire. His girl?

Yunjin’s eyes widen and jaw drops, “really? You guys are together? But I thought you were with Choi Soobin.” She asks, nudging you.

Sunghoon frowns at her words. Choi Soobin? Since when? Sunghoon literally follows you around school whenever he sees you, and he’s never seen you ever talk to that boy.

“Soobin and I are just friends,” you clarify, “also we are not a couple,” your finger gesturing to you and Sunghoon as you answer the girl.

“Tomorrow we’ll be a couple,” Sunghoon cuts back into the conversation, voice loud, and he catches your surprised expression as he smirks slyly.

Though he continues the conversation without a single stutter or break, Sunghoon’s feeling utterly disgusted. Is that the kind of boy you like? Nerdy losers who can’t do anything for the life of themselves? He doesn’t really like the thought of turning into those types of boys, but whatever you want, he thinks — he’s already practised abstinence for you, he might as well go all the way.

At the same time Sunghoon wonders if you’re really that oblivious to his obvious advancements towards you. He’s made it crystal clear: dumped his girlfriend, follows you around, talks about you literally all the time, and yet you’re still clueless.

And he whisks you away before you find the chance to clarify his words again. He’s determined this time round, to make it extremely straightforward for you.

“Hoon why in the world would you say stuff like that,” you groan, hands slapping his chest. And he grins like an idiot at your touch, if this was what it took for you to initiate skinship with him, he’d be more than willing to proclaim himself as your boyfriend any day.

He places a hand on the place you’d just hit, “it’s painful,” he pouts, and you almost feel a little guilty at your harsh actions, “can you kiss it better?”

Until that. You huff, “i’m leaving,” you announce as you turn away, ready to walk right back into the crowd. Sunghoon quickly clasps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you into his chest.

Your eyes become those of a deer caught in headlights as your body is pressed firmly against his, his arms finding their way to your waist; a gentle but firm hold as he bends down.

“Wasn’t done yet, princess,” he smirks, and you feel some sort of danger looming over because Sunghoon looks like a devil enticing you to commit sin. His black hair styles perfectly like always and his red tie, due to his excessive movements, is now dropping down even more to expose his honey skinned collarbones.

The most you can muster is a mumble, “what,” and your eyes are glassy as you stare up at him, he thinks he might go insane — so close to just moving in to place a kiss on your invitingly soft lips.

“I’d kiss you but your boyfriend’s watching,” and he literally spits the term out, unable to believe he’s labelling someone else other than him ‘your boyfriend’. He knows you guys aren’t together, but just for the comfort of his heart he has to hear it again.

It takes you a while before you process his words. “He’s not my boyfriend, Hoon,” and it’s that short statement coupled with the way you say his name that really breaks it for him.

Sunghoon moves in just as you finish your sentence, and he sinks into your pillowy lips. It’s paradise on earth and he thinks he will never be able to get enough of this feeling.

“Sunghoon,” you mumble when he breaks the kiss, slightly out of breath as you look up with hazy eyes.

He chuckles, “sorry, baby, my bad. I’ll return your kiss back,” and Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to give you another kiss, fingers caressing your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

This time it’s you who breaks the kiss, way too out of breath to even form full sentences without a few breaks in between. “You just kissed me.”

“Right, I just did that baby,” he smiles, those tiny fangs of his showcased as he gazes adoringly at you. “Actually, I’m looking for a girlfriend.” He pauses, eyeing your flushed cheeks and pink lips, “you looking for a boyfriend by any chance, princess?”

Now that you’re literally glued onto Sunghoon, you take the chance to look at him. Sharp nose, pretty moles that you could probably trace along all day, and his eyes which contrasting to his calm demeanour, held anxiousness as he waited for you to answer.

You’ve thought about dating Sunghoon before. Multiple times. Way more than you should’ve. And you never wanted to ever confess to it, because he was everyone’s crush. And not only that, he was annoying — constantly teasing you and making you flustered by his actions. You’d curse every time your heartbeat started to accelerate at his flirty words. You had thought that there was no way he’d ever like you back.

“I’m looking for a boyfriend,” you admit, letting out a soft giggle at Sunghoon’s overjoyed expression. And you decide that maybe now’s the time to get back at him, tease him a little to get him to stay on his toes, “maybe I should go find Soobin.”

His shoulders drop almost immediately and his arms wrap around your waist securely, chin resting on the top of your head. “No fucking way,” he grumbles, “you’re my girlfriend now. And I’m your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, you are,” you say, voice muffled in the embrace of Sunghoon. And you hear him giggle slightly, the rumble of his chest exposing the boyish feelings your boyfriend was currently going through, “for now.”

Sunghoon lifts his chin from your head, fingers brushing over your cheeks before they land themselves on your jaw. He tilts your chin up, “too bad my intention is forever.” And he places a chaste kiss on your lips again and again.

You are in for a long ride.

yeah, that’s the thing: beomgyu is a mind-reader, a pretty talented one at that. not that anyone knew, of course — he wouldn’t risk the government finding out. beomgyu is not usually one for promises, but he has promised himself one thing: there’s no way in hell that he will ever become one of the government’s sick little science experiments, even if his life ever hits rock bottom. he has no idea how his powers work — just that they do, and he would like to keep it that way. it’s bad enough that he doesn’t know where he got such abilities; his parents never mentioned anything about it and only ever grew worried whenever he read back their thoughts to them, so obviously the existence of his powers is some statistical anomaly in the universe. normal people can’t read others’ minds. he was forced to learn that at a very young age in order to keep himself safe. 

“how do you know that?” he remembers his mother’s alarmed tone when he first did it unknowingly, repeating back her own thoughts to her without realizing that’s what he had done. he was maybe six at the time — innocent, curious, plagued by voices in his head that he didn’t quite understand. those voices weren’t his. rather, they were his friends’, his family’s, his dentist’s and his doctor’s and his soccer coach’s voices that ricocheted about his mind uncontrollably;it was overwhelming for the young boy’s mind. the day he first admitted that he could hear them was the first day he heard his parents argue, their yelling from downstairs colliding with their internal voices in beomgyu’s mind, their terribly poignant concern for him and this development louder than any of the venomous words that they spat at each other in the living room. all he remembers from that day was himself crying, unable to block out anything that they thought, let alone his own thoughts. too much for his young mind to handle.

he heard their fear when they took him to the doctor for the first time of many, their heartache when the doctor came back and said that he might have psychosis, but more testing was needed. he heard how they started to deny it — their little boy couldn’t have that, could he? no, no he couldn’t. there’s no way he could. 

although beomgyu was young at the time, guilt ate at him. he was the one hurting his parents, he was the one making them worry. despite his official diagnosis when he was seven, something inside him knew that the doctors were wrong. those voices weren’t just the result of the machinations of his mind at work — they were voices of the people he knew, strangers who passed him on the street. what they said wasn’t evil, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. usually, it was quite mundane. at some point, he started to practice with it, trying focus on one certain voice out of the buzzing hive in his mind, blocking out the others, switching and focusing and blocking out until the action was as natural as breathing. it took him about five years before he reached that point, and after nearly two decades of living with his abilities, he’s gotten quite used to it. his mind is usually quiet — besides his own stream of consciousness — unless he allows others in. or, rather, they allow him in, which they always do. he sees it like a set of doors; open one, and you can hear that one person’s thoughts. close it, and he no longer hears them. and none of them are ever locked since no one expects to their thoughts to be read, which simply makes his life that much easier.

if he’s being honest, he didn’t used to read minds as often as he does now, but there isn’t much he can do about that now lest he go insane. beomgyu could admit that his habit was a little creepy…okay scratch that, extremely fucking creepy. these people had no idea that their minds were being infiltrated, their mental walls bypassed and their privacy violated like a computer infected with a malicious virus. it’s borderline depraved, how nonchalantly he robs these strangers of their utmost privacy, sometimes of their deepest, darkest secrets that they would never want anyone to find out about. he could sequester quite a bit of money out of some of these people, now that he thinks about it.

and sure, that may sound immoral, but beomgyu has never considered himself to be of particularly virtuous character.

without a second thought, beomgyu taps into the mind of the kid next to him. he’s thinking about how he’s failing his statistics class because he just bombed his midterm. no, now his mind is full of what he’s going to eat after his 8 a.m. class. he shifts his focus on the businessman to his right. stocks, his cheating wife, how he’s considering leaving with his mistress in the coming days…

”what a prick,” beomgyu thinks to himself, smirking a bit. just a few more stops until he gets off, now. 

he pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, scrolling aimlessly just to keep his eyes busy. sitting on the opposite side of the college student, an elderly lady walks herself through the stew that she’s going to make for her grandchildren tonight, excitement coloring her words. it’s cute — he loves hearing things like that. wholesome thoughts are not easy to come by nowadays, given the state of the world. exhibit a: a teenager standing on the other side of the train car worries himself into a frenzy over whether the girl that he has a crush on likes him back. exhibit b: a middle aged man contemplates if he should quit his job. for a second, beomgyu thinks that he might be in the same boat as him, before realizing that he has nothing else to fall back on — exhibit c. he could keep going.

a clear, robotic voice overhead announces the subway’s arrival to the next station — his station. sighing, he sits up a little taller, slipping his phone into the pocket of his slacks. a vague sense of dread weighs down his shoulders, knowing that he has a service to set up for the moment he clocks in.

he’s not looking forward to today, and yet the train still slows to a stop, the doors still slide open, and he still grabs his work briefcase from the spot between his feet. like clockwork, beomgyu maneuvers through the crowd, out the doors, and climbs the stairs up to the chilly streets of seoul.

decompressing after a slow-moving shift can take beomgyu’s night in many directions. sometimes, he simply returns home and hops into bed after a long, scalding hot shower that removes the invisible layer of grime that lays heavy on his skin. other times — typically on fridays — he’ll stop by a bar and catch up with his friends, occasionally leaving with a woman hanging off of his arm if he drinks enough to lower his inhibitions. more often than not, however, his excursions at the underground bar that taehyun is partial to end in him stumbling home alone and waking up the next morning with a raging headache. nursing a hangover alone, eating breakfast alone, bathing alone…he has never really become acclimated to it. the monster that festers inside beomgyu’s chest craves for love, for connection, for somebody to hold when the nights are too dark and his thoughts match the shade of the sky. the lack of connection is slowly getting to him. is this what insanity feels like? he wouldn’t know, nor would he like to find out. he’s sane. he’s perfectly sane. 

beomgyu understands that his profession can be off-putting to potential lovers, but it’s not as if he had much of a choice in the matter — not when his one shot at the career of his dreams crumbled below his feet when the company filed bankruptcy, sending him tumbling back down to earth, to the reality that his college degree meant little to nothing to the vast majority of employers nowadays. though he applied to dozens of jobs, the only one he ever heard back from was from the listing titled “mortuary assistant,” and in desperation, he accepted the position without much thought. maybe if he had tried a little harder to find a different company where he could apply his skills, maybe if he had pushed himself to make connections in the industry when he had the resources to do so, maybe if he had pursued music production a little harder, had not given up so readily when things grew difficult…maybe things would be different. 

beomgyu often thinks about the maybes.

this particular night, he finds himself leaned over a bar counter, a glass of amber-hued beer in hand. he half-listens to yeonjun’s slurred account of his dance crew’s latest win while he stares down at the mahogany tabletop. some condensation has gathered on the wood, and he swipes a finger through it. a slap to his shoulder brings his focus back to his surroundings.

“gyu, dude, y’should totally try out,’’ yeonjun pitches as he sloppily swings an arm over beomgyu’s shoulders. “get out of that. that—” he stumbles over his words for a moment, expression warping into a confused grimace. “that gross ass dead people building.”

beomgyu exhales a laugh as yeonjun’s head lolls against his shoulder, quietly whining about how his head hurts. while yeonjun is substantially gone already, beomgyu is only on his second beer. scanning the spacious, dim-lit room, he shakes his head. it’s times like these where he does not feel the need to slip into people’s minds — being surrounded by his friends is enough. “nah, man. i don’t think i could keep up. it’s been a while.”

“sure y’could! you’re like th’second best dancer here!” yeonjun says as his torso slumps down against the table. the bartender eyes him from further down the bar top with concern, but beomgyu sates the employee with an apologetic smile, ensuring that he turns away before setting his attention back on his friend.

beomgyu scoffs. “and i’m assuming you’re the first best?”

“uh, obviously. i literally run th’thing,” yeonjun retorts as he glares at him with a single eye open, an ear now resting on top of his crossed arms on the counter.

“yeonjun’s right,” taehyun butts in from the other side of yeonjun’s collapsed body. though his glazed over eyes give away his inebriated state, taehyun’s tolerance tends to lean much higher than yeonjun’s; this fact is confirmed by the crystal clear enunciation of his words as he continues, “you’ve been acting differently ever since you started working there. it wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

great, even his friends have noticed. exhaling deeply, beomgyu nods.

“yeah, i’ll think about it.” 

as the conversation meanders off into other topics, beomgyu sinks back into his own little world. curse taehyun and his acute perceptiveness. he knows that he’s been acting off, but maybe his friends are right; he once dreamed of being a choreographer, back when he was a teen, before he discovered his love for music production. perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to try.

unintentionally, he meets the gaze of a girl sitting at a booth with her friends. he quickly averts his gaze, and by the time he looks back up, she has been roped into what seems like a shot-taking contest. six other girls circle the table, one joining the first girl in taking rapid-fire shots, four others egging them on, and one laser-focused on her phone, occasionally sipping water through a straw. from what he can gather, she’s likely the group’s designated driver — though it seems her role has morphed into more of a babysitter. she’s pretty, he’ll admit. just his type. if he was on his third or fourth beer, he’d probably be over there trying to strike up a conversation with her, rather than any of her drunk friends. 

as she looks up and throws a cursory glance around the bar, she catches him staring, her kohl-lined eyes meeting his own. an eyebrow raises as her gloss-coated lips twist, as if to say “don’t even try it.”

oh, how terribly he wishes to slip into her mind and let her know that he has no intention to. 

the ear-piercing screech of yeonjun’s barstool to his right tears his gaze away from her. yeonjun now stands, one arm around taehyun and the other around soobin, the latter sporting a borderline disgusted grimace directed at the older boy hanging off of him while kai simply stands behind the trio of men. yeonjun’s head hangs low below his shoulders, chin nearly touching his chest, as he emits a pathetic groan. at least he’s not puking this time.

“we’re about to go grab some food. this one,” taehyun’s head nods to yeonjun’s sagging frame. “definitely needs it. you coming?”

unwilling to allow the night to end quite yet, beomgyu hums, quickly pays his tab, and allows the brief, silent encounter with the woman to fade away into the back of his mind.

the rest of the weekend passes without fanfare, and monday returns to rear its ugly head once again. monday is beomgyu’s least favorite day of the week; it brings a raging headache from his 5 a.m. alarm, a bone-deep fatigue that lingers for the rest of the day. it brings grumpy commuters whose knees and elbows uncomfortably bump against his own. it brings people who think that he should give up his seat, and silently tell him so with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. how selfish, they all think whenever he actually bothers to read their thoughts. what a fucking dick, some of them even snarl within the so-called impenetrable walls of their minds, walls he so easily breaks down. he levels those ones with a half-awake glare, pupils gloomy and lifeless. internally, their uneasy reactions make him want to laugh, hysterically cackle in their faces because wow, is he really that scary? he shouldn’t be, but maybe the dark under eyes are doing something for him.

surprisingly, the subway car he frequents is less crowded than usual. not as many people stand in front of him, and he’s actually able to see directly across the car for the first time in a while. doors shut, and he’s left to look around at the regulars and the new patrons that often don’t show up again. they’re easily less interesting than the regulars. really, what can he say? the daily life updates satisfy his nosy tendencies. 

still, he hates mondays. mondays suck. mondays make him want to crawl into a hole and eventually join the bodies at his workplace. they bring out the worst in his mind. all they do is remind him of the neverending cycle that he has trapped himself in — wake up, work, go to sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

mondays bring a lot of things he fundamentally dislikes, but this particular monday also brings you. 

it’s split-second eye contact. nothing more, nothing less. your eyes grow wide, your lips parting just the slightest bit in surprise. though he has not invaded your mind (yet), he can already tell what you are thinking. fuck, he isn’t blind — he knows that he is handsome.

your eyes shoot downward, your head hanging low with your phone clenched between your fingers. one of his eyebrows raises while a small smirk plays on his lips — you’re new, and even better, you’re cute. his dark, seemingly bored gaze trails over to the earbuds nestled in your ears, then to your crossed legs. you glance up at him again, eyes blowing wide again as your thighs press together just enough for him to notice the movement. his own eyes narrow slightly, evaluating the sight. 

you seem...interesting. prim, proper, sitting in a modest-length skirt and a plain blouse and coat that paint you as an unassuming character, just another random person in this sardine can of a train car. yet there’s this glint in your eyes that tells him there is so, so much more to you than what meets the eye — that the innocent, put-together little front that you display to the world is a complete and utter lie. it’s intriguing. new patrons come and go from this particular subway car every day, but you and your fresh face have caught his interest — and so has your odd behavior. 

then, without warning, realization punches him square in the gut.

you were there the other night, with those girls at the bar. the one sitting at the end of the table with the small glass of water as you scrolled through your phone. the one who shot a piercing glare at him as you looked out for your inebriated friends. your current behavior is a far cry from the strong front he first encountered that night, small and oh-so meek and lacking the sharp, piercing edge to your gaze that initially piqued his interest in you. the change, for some reason, intrigues him more. what happened to that feisty glare, that confident air to your posture? he wants to know why you seem so meek, so he taps in to your mind and—

“you’re my dumb little slut, aren’t you? fuckin’ say it—”

beomgyu flinches in his seat, the door to your mind slamming shut as he sits there in shock. did he really just hear that? are you listening to fucking porn on the subway? what the fuck?

he’s never had this happen to him before. he’s accidentally stumbled upon the occasional horny thought before, sure, but listening to porn on the subway? that’s a new one. he decides to give you another glance; your lips are pressed together now, eyes pointed towards the floor as you further shrink into yourself. fuck, you’re so cute, but now he knows you’re also awfully perverted — and for some reason, he feels himself getting hard in his trousers at the thought of entering your mind again. 

he should do something about this little development, shouldn’t he?

yeah, he thinks that he should. a sick sort of curiosity wins over the more logical side of his brain, the side that tells him that he should feel guilty for even thinking about what he’s about to do. he can’t, can he? no, he can — he wants to, he really fucking wants to. opportunities like this don’t just present themselves on a silver platter like this on the regular. if he doesn’t take this chance, then he’d be an absolute fool. 

the subway slows to a stop, the weirdly cheery, robotic voice calling out another stop. not his, thank god. he takes this opportunity to open that pesky little door to your mind again, now fully expecting the depravity echoing in your brain — and rather than do anything drastic too quickly, he simply sits there and listens. he listens through an entire audio alongside you, ignoring the twitch of his cock as he listens to the woman be degraded and praised, in missionary and in doggy, her moans mixing with the man's in a cacophony of pleasure — he loves the way you jump when the sound of a hand striking flesh sounds through your mind. your fleeting sigh of “god, i wish that were me,” causes him to bite his lip. you like being treated like a slut, huh? like a stupid little whore only made to take cock? that’s music to his ears, really — because he likes treating girls like that too. 

as sick and disgusting as it is, he continues to listen as if mindlessly tuning in to a podcast, subtly adjusting himself in his pants as he fights off a raging boner. he wants to be the one to do those things to you. he wants to make you scream and sob and beg for mercy as he completely ravages your body, fuck you until you’re brainless, perfect little slut for him. you’d love that, according to the audios you consume for the remainder of his commute — to be fucked so hard you legs give out from under you, to be owned, fully and completely. he likes that sound of that as well.

a few minutes into the second audio, you take another glance at him, eyes squeezing shut right away once you catch his gaze — and suddenly, your thoughts are full of him. he’s encountered countless strangers who can perfectly visualize their streams of consciousness, and you seem to be yet another one of them. images of you on your knees between his thighs and sucking his cock in the middle of this subway car flood his own mind, switching to one of him fucking you from behind against the wall while everyone else watches, then to him finger fucking you with a hand around your throat…what the fuck. what the fuck? how do you just do that? how do you think of such terribly shameless things while looking so pretty and demure, as if you’re a shy little thing rather than some fucking whore? he shifts his briefcase over his lap again. fuck, he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt. shit, fuck. 

he should be appalled by you, but fiery, ardent lust is the sole emotion that floods his veins. would it be a bad idea to talk to you? no, you want it. you want it so fucking bad. just look at your mind — and he can make all your dirty little fantasies come true, if you would let him. 

just as he’s about to actually do something about you, the subway slows to a stop once again, the same cheery voice announcing his stop. god dammit. pushing himself up to his feet, he finds that you’re doing the same, wide eyes flitting around nervously as you move towards the door and stop nearly right next to him, those earbuds that hide your biggest secret in plain sight still stuck in your ears. he can still hear those degrading words and moans and slapping sounds that still echo through your mind, loud and clear as if those white earbuds are sitting snug in his own ears. 

the doors slide open, and soon enough, he loses sight of you in the surging crowd. stepping out of the subway, he looks around once, twice. you have completely disappeared; nowhere to be found, your mind has grown too far from his own for him to locate nor access, the tether between the two of you frayed to the point of snapping in half. with a brief purse of his lips, he sets off up the stairs. it’s fine, there’s always another day. it’s fine, he tells himself over and over again. there’s nothing he could have done in such a short time, anyway. 

the sun sits high in the sky today, but the bone-chilling air cuts through his puffy coat like tiny needles puncturing his skin, or millions of scalpels slicing open flesh nearly to the bone, cold and sterile and far from comforting. autumn shouldn’t be this cold, and his slightly soured mood isn’t helping his case right now. he should have done something back there, he should’ve opened up the channel between the two of you and taken the plunge. it wouldn’t have hurt to try, but no. no, he let that opportunity go like every other one he’s had in his life. with his jaw set, he promises himself that it won’t happen again. it won’t, because if he keeps living like this — allowing all these opportunities slip through his fingers like grains of sand — he’ll never be able to forgive himself.

and honestly, beomgyu is no clairvoyant, and he should brush off the tickle in his brain as a stupid, naive hunch…but he has a compelling feeling that he’ll be seeing you again tomorrow. 

when beomgyu returns home, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon, he doesn’t unwind like he usually does. today’s shift was a slow one, with no bodies to preen and primp and no services to set up for, so most of his time was taken up with cleaning, filing documents, and sitting around aimlessly. no matter how much he tried to fend them off, thoughts of you bounced around in his brain for the entire eight hours he was on shift. fuck, he doesn’t even know your name, much less anything else about you, yet he wishes he could travel back in time and redo this morning all over again. he’s not sure how it would have panned out, exactly, but he has a few tricks up his sleeve that would’ve made it exciting.

he shakes his head. the current moment presents much more pressing matters than ruminating on this morning’s terrible decisions; the strain in his trousers proves to be a pertinent issue, a tent formed in the black fabric and aching to be touched. now that the public eye no longer holds his gaze, his apartment door locked shut behind him, he allows himself to give in to his most base instincts. a hand comes down to cup his hardness as he imagines his fingers as yours, you on your knees below him, those adorably wide eyes staring up at him in desperation. you’d wait for permission, right? you’d beg so prettily like a good little slut should? fuck yeah, you would. you’d be good, you’d take what he would give you — and you would love it. 

groaning, he crashes onto his couch, head throwing back against the back cushion as he gropes his cock harder. he’s forgone slipping off his dress shoes and has barely even slipped his coat off before he’s giving in to the pulsing ache in his groin that’s nearly unbearable, the white hot need swirling in his stomach that demands his immediate attention. his belt quickly unbuckled and his trousers pulled halfway down his thighs, he slips his cock from his boxers, gasping at how sensitive he has become. 

“oh fuck,” he breathes out into the quiet air, a shuddered sigh following when his thumb swipes over the angry red head, the bead of precum that has gathered there spreading across his skin. he brings his hand up to his lips, gathering some spit beneath his tongue before letting in loll into his palm. bringing it back down, he drags his hand up and down his shaft, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as pleasure rushes through his veins. he pumps his cock steadily, hips rolling up into his hand as if fucking your throat. eyes fluttering closed, his free hand grips the couch, fingernails digging into the worn leather and leaving half-moon indents in their wake. “fuck. god, fuck.”

would you be able to take him? he’s been told he’s big, most women barely able to take him even after extensive prep. he imagines how you’d keen as he enters you, your back arching so prettily and your walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. how you’d choke and gag on his cock if he decided to use your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks as you peer up at him pathetically, fingers digging into your thighs as you resist the urge to touch yourself. would you like to be slapped around a little, punished with spankings and little taps to your cheek? 

“focus,” he mumbles to no one. to you. “focus, slut. be good for me.” 

he’s delirious at this point, has dived so deep into his fantasies that he barely registers that he’s fucking his fist and not your mouth or sweet little cunt. that doesn’t stop his fingers from tightening their grip, squeezing the head before gliding back down again, then back up, the rhythm of his hips growing frenzied as his high inches closer. his free hand smooths up his stomach, taking his button-up with it as he clenches it with desperate fingers. he bites down on the fabric, pumping himself once, twice, three times before his high hits him, his cum spurting out in staccato ribbons. he’s making a mess, but he can’t bring himself to care when this is the best orgasm he’s had in months. the shirt falls from his mouth as he moans unabashedly. 

“take it,” he groans, his hips canting upward. “fuckin’— fuckin’ take it. shit. such a perfect little whore for me.”

he cums and he cums, spilling all over himself until he’s milked dry. eyes closed, his contracted muscles melt into the couch, hot pants replacing his moans and groans. a few minutes pass before he fully comes down from his headspace and returns back to earth, only for him to realize just how much he came, staining his clothes and coating his skin in creamy white. he blinks. 

reality crashes down on his head. 

he just…jerked off to you. he just came so hard he saw stars just from the mere thought of you. oh, he’s in deeper than he first thought. too deep, too quickly, he can barely breathe. 

“fuck,” beomgyu murmurs as he stares down at his cum-covered abdomen, his sticky hand. “fuck.”

beomgyu was right: you do come back the next day. and the next. and the next.

over the remainder of the work week, he watches you — well, more so listens to you, but he can’t deny himself the little glimpses he allows himself to take, drinking in how you worry your bottom lip, how the muscles in your throat contract each time you gulp. the poker face that you don crumbles oh so easily whenever he meets your stray gaze. it’s exhilarating, knowing the power he, a complete stranger, has over you. your microscopic slips in expression remain undetected to the rest of the passengers, but he sees every single one. they’re a perfectly entertaining backdrop for your explicit musings. 

he knows he could approach you like a normal human being would, but where’s the fun in that? he’s not quite a normal person in his own right, anyway. instead, he’s decided to keep you in his sights, learning what exactly you enjoy, what you like to hear, preparing for the day where he again gathers the courage to toy with you within the walls of your mind. he’s in deep, and at this point, he’s accepted it if only to justify his sadistic obsession with you. actually, on second thought, he wouldn’t quite call it an obsession, perhaps a morbid curiosity more than anything. yeah, that’s all it can be.

it’s almost as if the universe has sent him a little present in the form of you, an apology for the trials and tribulations that whatever is above has rained down on him this past year or so. of course he’s going to savor it. who wouldn’t? so he sticks to his plan, and keeps watching you, listening to you, observing you, identifying your little quirks and deepest, darkest desires. they’ll be quite useful later, he’s sure. 

over his…research period, he’s found out a lot about you. you like to be bullied, to be called a slut, a whore, but you also enjoy a little praise mixed in: good slut, good whore, pretty girl is so obedient for sir, for daddy, for master. you’re also not too picky in what you listen to, as long as it contains a male dominant in some capacity. couple’s content, threesomes, gangbangs are all on the table, as are solo audios that usually have some sort of plot to them — coworkers to lovers' first date that ends in sex? check. hot librarian who fucks over a table you after closing? that too. he could go on about what he’s heard in just the solo audios you consume, but even that list would be exhaustive. 

by the time friday rolls around, he doesn’t even have to try to search for your mind; call him crazy, but it’s almost as if you, on some subconscious level, know that he wants in and are more than willing to let him. as if you keep the door cracked open just for him. 

at least, he likes to think that you do. 

staying close, but not too close, to you proves to be difficult today. fridays bring with them a surge of new faces that crowd the subway car, which is generally quite annoying, but at the moment, he also finds it to be frustrating. no seats are open when he boards, he can’t even see you through the dense crowd, but you’re there. your mind is there, open and waiting for him to enter.

though he won’t be able to see your cute little reactions, he steps through that mental threshold. 

“it’s okay, baby. shh, don’t cry, you can cum. cum for me, just let go,” a gentle voice coos. aw, you must be having a rough morning, how sad. the only other day you listened to these kinds of audios, you looked absolutely miserable, the corners of your lips pulled down and a deep, pathetic furrow to your brows — it was wednesday, that’s right. two days ago, when you seemed frazzled and completely out of it. a little digging resulted in him learning that you had spilled your coffee all over the concrete on the way here, you thought your hair didn’t look right (even though, to him, it did, it looked perfect — he wished he could’ve told you that), and worst of all, your boss emailed you late the previous night to admonish you for your performance, demanding a meeting first thing that morning. 

still, he wishes he could take care of your boss, eliminate that weight off of your shoulders. if it were up to him, your boss would be sitting in the morgue at his place of work, gray and comatose and unable to admonish you for things that beomgyu is sure you had no control over. because that’s how offices work, right? sink or swim, big fish eat the little ones, blaming those below them for everything they should be taking responsibility for. your boss has to be one of those. he was pig-nosed and donning a constant sneer when you pictured the verbal berating you’d be getting once you got to your workplace. 

that day, he found himself thinking about how he’s become pretty talented with a scalpel. 

“good girl. doing so well for me, pretty girl,” the same voice soothes, soft cries and sniffles from the submissive mixing with the gentle words. he could treat you all sweet too. he could be anything you want, if only you knew him. 

he wants you to know him — needs you to, really.

there’s no clear cut reason for your current sour mood, your thoughts too jumbled together for him to properly decipher. are you picking apart your appearance? did you wake up late? is this all because of your boss again? he might just kill the bastard if that’s the case…if only he could approach you, tell you that everything will be okay, but he doesn’t want to knock down the house of cards he’s spent such precious time building over the course of the week. you’re too special for that. it’s the very reason why he tries to blend into the crowd, why he tries to keep eye contact to a minimum. the last thing he needs is for you to run away from him when you’re one of the only things holding him together.

when the car slows to his and your stop, disappointment nips at the space between his eyebrows. he didn’t even get to see you today, and the end of the work week means that he won’t be seeing you for two entire days. sighing, he falls into his typical routine: move towards the doors, wait for them to open, and follow the other exiting passengers out. where could you be? you’re still here, he knows that much since he’s still connected to you, still hears those soft words and moans, but where the fuck are you? you, as in your body. that you.

with a single cursory glance around, he swears he catches a glimpse of your figure before the crowd swallows you whole. as he’s shoved towards the stairs by the crowd, his chest grows heavy.

friday has just begun, but monday couldn’t come any faster. 

“so, are you gonna try out?”

yeonjun is far more sober compared to last friday night, his eyes lacking that fatigued droop they always get whenever he’s had too much. beomgyu tears his glazed-over gaze away from the television screen to look at the yeonjun, sinking further into the couch below him. he points to himself. “me?”

yeonjun rolls his eyes, a knee swinging over the arm of the armchair he sits in. “who the fuck else would i be talking to?”

scoffing, beomgyu shoots him a glare. “i don’t know, man. y’don’t have to be a dick about it.”

the open bottle of beer in beomgyu’s hand chills his fingertips, so he switches it to his other hand before taking another sip. meanwhile, soobin plops down next to him with an already open bag of chips, offering some to him. he shakes his head, and soobin shrugs, beginning to munch on them by himself. 

“i’m serious though,” yeonjun continues. “you should really try out. there’s not much to it, just dance to one song and you’re done. i’d probably pass you even if you sucked.”

“that’s nepotism,” taehyun chimes in from the floor, eyes trained on the screen as he shoots a player down in the game him and kai are currently obsessed with. the sound of gunfire fills the living room of soobin and yeonjun’s apartment, the murmurs of the two boys a low drone beneath it as they figure out their best strategy to win. 

he almost wishes he lived here with soobin and yeonjun, or with the other two. yeonjun and soobin, taehyun and kai — only beomgyu lives alone. alone doesn’t necessarily mean lonely, but in beomgyu’s case, it does. maybe that’s why he’s latched onto you so hard: to cure his loneliness. he swats that thought away like one would a pesky mosquito. he hasn’t latched onto you, he admonishes himself, he’s simply curious. yeah, curious. 

just a little innocent curiosity. 

disregarding taehyun’s comment, yeonjun raises an eyebrow towards beomgyu. “i know i was drunk when i said that shit last week, but you really have been acting weird since you started at that job. we’ve all noticed.”

“yeah, it’s like you’ve gotten more reserved, or something,” soobin says, words muffled by his chewing. beomgyu grimaces, shifting closer to the arm of the couch. 

“you’re the most introverted one here, you can’t say shit,” kai snorts. soobin throws a chip at his head.

“anyway,” yeonjun butts in with a scalding glare before an argument can begin. soobin and kai blanch, mouths closing. “we’re just…concerned about you.”

“is this some kind of intervention?” beomgyu laughs, disbelief apparent in his tone. he’s fine. he has you now.

“no, we just want you to know that there’s other things you could do that would make you happier than work at a fucking funeral home,” taehyun says, eyes still not straying from the tv. 

“like joining my dance crew,” yeonjun tacks on. 

beomgyu sighs. they’re kind of right, if he’s being honest with himself, but is he ready to put himself out there again? is he ready to face the potential of rejection, of failure? he’s had his life fall apart in front of his eyes once already, what if it happens again?

“...i guess.”

“c’mon.” yeonjun shifts around until he’s leaning on his elbows, focus solely on beomgyu. “tryouts are next saturday. i know how fast you can learn choreography. hell, you could probably learn something in a couple hours and be fine.”

“honestly, you’ll never know if you don’t try,” soobin chimes in. “it might end in something good.”

“yeah,” beomgyu says before taking another large swig of beer. “yeah, i know.”

and so another weekend passes, and monday returns once again. 

soobin’s brief, sage advice plays through his mind again and again. although he understands that soobin meant for it to apply to his current career situation, beomgyu has adopted it for his situation with you instead. he should try, he’s going to try, eventually. 

it might end in something good, he tells himself over and over again. he has to try.

mondays are a bit less excruciating now that you’re around. he has only known you for a week, but it’s been long enough to know that you make his day-to-day routine bearable — hell, he’ll stay at his terrible job as long as you keep showing up each morning. the day that you don’t will be the nail in his coffin — he chuckles at his stupid joke. yeonjun is rubbing off on him too much.

the sky is overcast today, and endless expanse of gray that contrasts the warmth of the changing leaves that line the sidewalk. it might rain soon, he surmises, but he hopes that it won’t. he’s forgone an umbrella today. digging his hands further into his coat pockets, he ducks into the subway station, descending the stairs and weaving through the crowd until he finds his usual platform. when he gets there, you’ve already arrived, ears vacant of those white earbuds, but it’s not a foreign sight to him. you typically put them in once you sit down. the fact that you get on and get off at the same stop as him…he almost likes to think of all of this as fate. 

maybe the universe really is trying to apologize. 

the subway arrives at the platform a few minutes later — minutes in which he tries not to stare at you. he’s not a creep, he swears that he’s not. he’s not a creep, he’s not a creep — he repeats this to himself as he follows behind you into the subway car the two of you frequent, he finds a seat across from you a few feet to your left. he can’t be too obvious.

and most importantly, he’s not a creep. 

you dig around in your bag. ah, here come those infamous earbuds, he’s sure of it — but then they don’t, and then the digging through your bag grows a degree more frantic, your lips parting as you continue shoving whatever is in there aside in search of your most precious possession.

you feel like crying as panic surges through your veins. oh god, you forgot them. how could you have forgotten them? what are you going to do now? 

beomgyu decides to tap into your mind in that moment, finding you in an unbelievably frazzled state. his heart clenches in his chest, he wishes he could help somehow…

wait. he could…oh my god, he could. no, that’s sick, he’s not a creep — well, no, he could. he definitely fucking could, and you’d probably end up liking it…

he could be your temporary replacement for today — no, he could become your constant source, the one you need to get through the day. he could become your audios. he wants to. they’d be far more…interactive, if he did, after all. you’d love what he could do to your pretty fucking body just with access to your mind. reading thoughts isn’t the only thing he can do — and soobin’s right: he’ll never know if he doesn’t try. how could he sit here any longer and not give in to his burning desire to ravage you? you know what? fuck it. this is the perfect opportunity, served up once again on a silver platter, waiting for him to take. he’s not going to let it slip away again — and oh, you just look so devastated right now, how terrible would he be if he didn’t help you?

in a split-second moment, beomgyu decides that today is the day. deep breath. focus. okay, he can do this. one, two, three…

“hello, pretty girl.”

you flinch before you look up and around, only to find no one is looking at you — well, he is, but through his peripherals. wouldn’t want to get caught, would he? suppressing a smirk at your reaction, he shifts in his seat.

“was someone just talking to me?” you ask yourself, brows furrowing as your eyes continue to dart around. your hand comes up to your ear to see if you accidentally remembered your earbuds, your frown deepening when you register that they are, indeed, not in your ears. glancing around again, your eyes skirt over his form. he shivers at the thought of what’s to come, biting his lip as he avoids your gaze. “is this some sort of prank?”

“calm down, sweetheart, this isn’t a prank. now, stop looking around, you’re the only one who heard me.”

your brain flits from thought to thought so quick he can barely keep up, the volume of them rising as you panic. your fingers clench the strap of your purse as if to ground yourself. “am i hallucinating right now? what the fuck? this has to be a prank. should i go to the doctor’s? no, my boss would kill me if i called out, but fuck, i should really go if i’m hearing things—”

beomgyu chuckles, the sound echoing through your mind as well. freezing, your muscles lock up as you look around again. your distressed stream of consciousness stops for a moment, before resuming at a much more rapid pace. “what the fuck, i need to call out right now, where’s my phone—”

sighing, he leans back into his seat and closes his eyes. so cute, how easily you spiral. “quiet that pretty little head of yours, pretty girl. you’re not hallucinating, this is all real. very real.”

a few moments pass before your internal freakout quiets down. for once, silence fills your mind…and rather than him break it, it’s you: “someone’s…talking to me through my mind? this is real?”

“such a smart girl. you figured it out so quickly,” beomgyu taunts, resisting the urge to coo again. adrenaline rushes through his veins, urging him to continue. you need him. he can make you happy. he just needs to hear you say it.

your thighs press together at the praise, fingers digging into the trousers you had chosen to wear. you shouldn’t be feeling like this. this is strange, terribly strange, and even a little frightening, now that you are aware that someone — that a complete stranger, at that — has full reign over your conscious. yet, at the same time, you’re curious to see how this will play out.

“and you can speak to me, too, if you focus hard enough…” his voice trails off. okay, you can do that. allowing your eyelids to flutter shut, you begin to breathe deeply until even the mechanical noises of the subway and the murmurs of passengers vacate your senses. mind empty, you exhale a shaky breath. focus. stay focused. 

“hmm, impressive. you’re a natural at this.” god, he needs to quit praising you like that with his deep voice. by the way he laughs, you know he heard that too. fuck. 

“who are you and why the fuck are you in my brain?” you decide to ask. straight to the point, no fluff to it, it’s reminiscent of your attitude at the bar where he first laid eyes upon you. this is the wall you put up towards strangers and any other threat to your life, but little do you know, beomgyu’s breached that wall already. this is just a little front. “answer me, you fucking asshole—”

“woah, woah, watch the language. why would i tell you who i am? it’s much more exciting this way, don’t you think?” the smile in his voice is unmistakable, but he purses his lips to keep them from curling upward. 

you start to gnaw on your bottom lip, biting hard enough for pain to bloom across your nerve endings. this is stranger you’re talking to right now, a stranger who you’re talking to through your fucking thoughts. this is weird. you never signed up for this. “get the hell out of my mind before— before i—” 

“before you what? can’t kick me out, you don’t know how to do that, pretty girl.”

fuck, he’s right — wait, if he’s in your mind right now, can he also control it? is he going to hurt you? is he going to make you his puppet and go on a murder spree? is he in this car with you, or somewhere else? what if…what if…

beomgyu can almost feel your panic swelling in his own chest. fuck, he needs to put a stop to your spiraling before it gets out of control. if you freak out now, then all of his work over the past week will be for naught. after all, he’s not going to do anything without your permission. the last thing he wishes to do is scare you off completely before he can have his fun. with great urgency, he cuts off your ramblings, “hey, now, relax for me, princess. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m as human as you are, just a bit…different, i guess. and i am in the same car as you right now.”

rather than respond, you look around again, eyeing every single man around you with suspicion, even him. he stares at the floor, maintaining what he hopes to be a neutral, borderline bored, expression. he needs to keep it together. he’s gotten this far, he can’t ruin this. “looking around again, huh? if i were that easy to spot, then this game wouldn’t be very fun, would it?” 

“game? fucking with my mind is a game to you?” 

the corners of his lips twitch up before he’s forcing them back down. this is it, the moment he has been waiting oh so patiently for. keep it together.

“well, not really — i actually have a proposition for you, if you’d hear me out.”

scoffing, you urge him along. “just get on with it.”

“so impatient. that’s okay. i can work with that,” he smirks. “i know what you listen to every morning, you know.”

your heart drops to your stomach. he what? oh god, you think you’re going to be sick. your arms wrap around your stomach, squeezing hard. this is bad, this is really fucking bad. “do you want money, or something? are— are you trying to blackmail me right now? i’ll have you know, i’m actually kinda broke right now. i really don’t wanna end up homeless, can you just. pick someone else to fuck with? there’s like twelve different businessmen in this car, i’m sure they’re rich and corrupt—”

beomgyu’s brows raise imperceptibly. jesus, are you always this flighty? “woah, chill. i’m not here to judge you — or blackmail you, for that matter. i’m not evil. aw, don’t look all shameful now. i told you i’m not here to judge — i actually wanna help you, if you’d let me.”

“help me?” you dumbly echo. “help me how?”

“well,” he starts. “i noticed you forgot your earbuds today, and you just looked so sad and lost without them. how else are you going to get through your commute? and then i thought maybe i could do something about that. y’know, help you out, get you through the morning.”

“so you invaded my privacy just to tell me that you wanna dirty talk to me for the rest of my commute? is that what you mean? ‘cause if so, that’s pretty weird,” you reply, though your stray thoughts that dart around tell him that you’re actually considering his offer — it’s tempting, isn’t it? to give in, to let his deep voice get you all squirmy and needy, knowing he could be anyone in this subway car. still, your words make him laugh, because of course you’re deflecting right now. it’s okay, he hasn’t given you the full story quite yet.

“that’s only part of my offer, princess,” he starts. “i can read minds, yes, but i can also do…other things.”

oh, you’re really considering it now. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let him. his voice is nice, and maybe, just maybe, it’s kind of making you horny. after a deep, long breath, you gulp once, then, with curiosity dripping from your tone, you ask, “...like what?”

jackpot.

beomgyu’s high on a mix of adrenaline and dopamine, utterly giddy because he’s got you right where he wants you, where he needs you. he’s played his cards just right, shoved your worries to the side and drew out your curiosity enough that you’ve taken his bait. perfect, oh, this is perfect. he knew you’d be good for him.

“it would be much easier for me to show you.”

“then show me,” you immediately reply, heat flooding your cheeks at the sheer desperation in your voice. god, calm down. he hasn’t even done anything yet.

chuckling at your internal conflict, he decides not to comment. “tell me if you don’t like something. i’ll stop.” he watches as you slightly nod to yourself, a soft “okay,” echoing through your head and into his — thus, he sets his plan into action. 

something warm caresses your calf, but when you look down, there’s nothing there. your eyes widen — was that a hand? it definitely felt like one, the way it creeped up the back of your leg, calloused fingertips pressing into your skin. a shiver races down your spine. that had to have been him. 

“it was,” he confirms, then his voice is growing impossibly deeper, adopting that gruff edge that you love so much. “you want more, princess? i can give you more.”

another phantom hand skirts over your waist, dragging down over your hips to your right thigh, just to stop there. biting your bottom lip, you nod, hoping that whoever is in your head right now sees it, wherever he is. the hand moves to your inner thigh; despite how tightly pressed together they are, it skirts over your skin with ease, seemingly beneath your trousers. “i need words, pretty girl, or i might just stop right now. and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

no, you wouldn’t, not at this point. the unbearable ache currently building in your core makes you want to cry; you haven’t felt this level of desperation in a while, and you need to be touched. you need it so fucking bad. 

“please.” the single word comes out meek, quiet. shame flushes your face, a fiery heat that spreads up to your ears and down your neck. 

you hear the way his breath shudders, causing your own hitch. “fuck, you’re so cute, but i need more than that. beg. beg for me to touch you.”

his voice — fuck, his voice is so deep, so dark and wanton. you wonder what he sounds like when he’s moaning, how he would sound if he fucked you, pounded you into the mattress so hard you saw stars. the image of a faceless stranger fucking you from behind, your back arched behind you and your face buried in the sheets, as he holds your wrists behind your back flits across the big screen of your mind. you shake it away, but the man in your head is already tutting. “use your words, sweetheart, not pictures — though i’d love to do that to you too. you’ve got quite the imagination on you.” 

beomgyu’s cock twitches in his boxers as you whine, frantic pleas bubbling up from the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind once he takes the sensation of his hand away from your thigh. you sound halfway dumb already, begging for his hands, his cock, his tongue — anything. you’ll take anything just, “please, sir. please touch me. need you to touch me so bad.”

you don’t even know who he is, yet you’re being so obedient, calling him sir, begging so sweetly for him — it’s like you’re begging straight into his ear. his heart swells at the thought, as does his cock. you sound so pretty, but he finds himself wishing he could hear these words come from your lips instead. 

“yeah? my little slut needs more?” he prods, laughing meanly when you whimper out a yes. “aw, ‘course she does. desperate whores always need more, don’t they? so greedy.”

you have to swallow down a whimper at that, focusing so intently on keeping quiet that your nails have dug into your palms deep enough to almost break skin. the pain seems to help keep you grounded — that is, until you feel the sting of a palm against your backside. you flinch in your seat, gasping sharply. the man sitting next to you glances over, but you only hang your head and shrink into yourself. he looks away. 

“focus, whore. you’re drawing too much attention to yourself.”

two hands are touching you now. one cupping your pussy, the other wrapped around your throat, pressing into the sides of your neck so you start to grow dizzy. the hand on your throat releases its grip to slide down to your chest, circling around one of your nipples before a thumb swipes over the pebbled flesh. your back arches off of your seat when the sensation morphs into that of lips, plush warmth enveloping your tit before the sharp bite of teeth interrupts. you inhale a shaky breath from your nose as lips return to soothe the sting. despite the hard press of your thighs, the hand on your pussy drags up and down your folds, dipping down to your entrance before dragging up to your clit. a tiny squeak sneaks up your throat before you’re masking it with a cough. 

“aren’t you just a sensitive little thing? so wet too,” he coos, shifting his briefcase over his lap to gain some semblance of friction. his fingertips tingle as if your wetness coats them right now. fuck, he’s hard. if it were up to him, you’d be taking his cock right now, moaning so prettily as he presses you up against the wall and fucks up into you, your legs giving out from under you because he’s just making you feel so good, isn’t he? never mind that, he has a job to do. “how about i just…”

two lithe fingers breach your walls while a thumb continues to slowly circle your clit, barely brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves. you feel like you’re going insane, trying your best to hold still as his fingers begin to move inside you, curling up into your walls. searching, he’s searching for that spot inside you that will get you crying—

then he finds it. 

your knee jerks up, your legs falling open slightly before you’re pressing them closed again as he abuses it over and over again, crooking his fingers just right to find it with each thrust. your hips roll up into the sensation, stilling as soon as you realize that you’re squirming too much, being too obvious. people are starting to stare, calm down. calm the fuck down.

god, you don’t think you can. it’s too difficult to keep still with the way he’s finger-fucking you right now. with the way there’s lips suddenly circling your clit, sucking the pearl in so that his tongue can play with it. little kitten licks that make you want to scream and cry and beg for mercy because you don’t know if you can keep up this front of normalcy with the way he’s touching you.

it’s like he’s speaking directly into your ear right now, warm breath fanning over your earlobe, your cheek. “wanna see you fall apart, wanna see you lose it in front of all of these people, baby. bet you wanna cum right now, yeah? just wanna feel good, don’t even care if you quake and cry in public? you’re that fucking desperate for it?” 

you nod to yourself, eyes squeezing shut. you’re so close. oh god, you’re going to cum. you’re going to cum like a brainless whore in the middle of a fucking subway car. you’re sick. you’re fucking sick for enjoying this.

you’re just as bad as him, beomgyu decides. he knew you’d like what he could give you, he knew you needed him. it was just a matter of time before you realized that fact. that’s okay, because he needs you just as badly. it’s a carnal need, white hot in the center of his stomach — fuck, he’s obsessed with you. he wants you to be his forever. 

and beomgyu knows you’re close, but he’s not quite ready to give you what you want. 

“please, oh god. please let me cum. fuckfuckfuck— no, please don’t stop!” you cry as he slows the pace of his fingers. “please no, ‘m so close! no no no—”

“you drive me crazy, it’s only fair if i return the favor. makes it more fun.” ripping the sensation away from you completely, he watches you bottom lip tremble as you blink back tears, your body melting into your seat as the pleasure fades away. “now, now, don’t cry, sweetheart. i have something even better for you.”

a few seconds pass before something breaches your entrance, your walls stretching to their limit, yet the sting of pain never arrives. filled to the brim, you throw your head back against the window behind you. to others, you seem to just be resting your eyes, but the way your mouth falls open is not lost on beomgyu. he knows you can feel him everywhere, knows you can feel the way the head of his cock nearly touches your cervix, how it presses into every single sensitive spot inside you. he knows he’s big, but you take it like a champ, your hips grinding down into the seat, as if to bring him deeper inside you. what a little whore, his little whore. 

“y’feel that, pretty girl? feel my big fucking cock inside you?” he asks as your chest heaves, a feeble attempt in holding yourself together. “calm down, now. i’m gonna start moving, okay?”

he doesn’t wait for your response before he’s spoon-feeding you the sensation of his cock pulling out until nothing but his cockhead remains within your walls. a few seconds pass, then your begging returns. tearful, this time, fucking pathetic. he basks in the power that rushes through his entire being. you need him. you need him in order to feel good, and he loves that you do. he brings a hand down to adjust himself in his pants, hissing quietly at the ache that the action brings. he needs to fuck you right now. physically fuck you, none of this thought manipulation bullshit — but no, he has to be patient. he can be patient as long as it’s you. 

the subway is slowing down again, and he comes to the gross realization that he only has a few minutes before both of you must depart. dammit, he has to make this quick. 

meanwhile, you’re already halfway to your high just at the mere feeling of him inside you. as soon as his cock begins to move again, you’re choking back moans, head hanging low as your muscles tense and your hands press into your lap. you can feel him in your throat each time he thrusts back in, his thrusts growing faster and faster until he’s pounding into you. 

“fuck fuck fuckkkkk!” you wail, encouraging him to continue. in reality, your walls clench around nothing, but your mind paints a different picture. you almost beg for him to cum inside, but you cant find the words, too fucked out to think about anything else but the knot in your stomach that grows tighter with each passing second. “fuck, please. please, fuck i’m, nghh—”

imaginary fingers swipe across your clit, and you’re a goner. 

thighs quaking, your release coats your panties, walls fluttering, but the movement of his cock doesn’t stop until you’re begging for mercy. beomgyu almost cums in his pants at the depraved wails you emit, half-baked sentences pleading for him to “s-slow down, please. i can’t, no, i can’t — shit!”

finally — finally — he grants you reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure. your body slumps into your seat, your eyes shut as you begin to float back down to earth. the clack-clack-clack of the subway slows until it stops completely. the usual robotic voice announces his stop, but you seem so out of it that you don’t even register that you need to get off. 

“good job, baby. you put on quite the show for me,” he praises as he rises to his feet. luckily, he decided on wearing a longer coat today which he uses to cover up his raging hard-on. this has to be fate.

no response. with an excited gleam in his eye, he disconnects from your mind and moves towards you. looming above you, he drinks in the beads of sweat that have formed along your hairline, the wrinkles in your trousers where you gripped the fabric a wee bit too hard, your dreamy eyes and how they blink down at his black loafers before raising to meet his own. concern has painted itself across his features, his head tilting as he holds your bleary gaze.

“are you alright, miss? you look a bit ill.”

you blink once. twice. god, how are you so cute even after getting fucked so hard? he can barely control himself from blurting out who he is.

“what—what stop is this?” you ask him, eyes wide and red-rimmed from your earlier tears. he tells you, and he watches those same eyes widen. “oh shit, this is my stop!”

attempting to stand, you stumble straight into his chest. he catches you with gentle hands before he’s helping you steady yourself. your legs tremble like those of a newborn fawn, sexy yet terribly adorable. he gulps at the image of you unable to walk, legs so sore that you’re forced to let him dote on you, that forms inside his mind. later. that can come later, don’t get too hasty. 

“oh, you’re a bit shaky there,” he murmurs, a hand curling around you elbow when you stumble again. “are you sure you’re alright?”

“i’m f-fine, sorry for the trouble,” you reply with a polite, yet jittery, smile, stepping away from him. he wants to tell you to come closer again, he wants to smell your sweet perfume again, feel your warm skin beneath his fingertips. 

but good things come to those who wait.

“no worries.” with a charming smile, he shuffles beside you, until the two of you have exited with the rest of the crowd. he catches your wrist before you can get too far, and you turn to face him once more. afterglow looks wonderful on you. “it looks like we’re getting off at the same stop today, so would you like me to walk with you until you’re feeling a bit better? i’m sure some fresh air will do you good.”

you pause for a moment, hesitating. have you seen him somewhere before? you feel like you have. “i…that would be great, actually. thank you.”

“of course,” he nods, holding back a smirk. he can’t help the words that escape him next.

“lead the way, then…pretty girl.”

the way you look back at him with alarmed realization — even a hint of fear — causes a grin to split open his lips. you begin to sputter as you back away, but he merely follows with light, casual steps. “w-what, who—who are you—”

his smile grows knife-sharp. the door opens — it always does. 

“aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he coos inside your mind, biting his lip as he watches your knees buckle. “who else could it be?”

Because after a particularly busy evening for you, you quickly found yourself staying after hours in the office, glued to your chair and zoned out as you finished the countless tasks that were suddenly piled onto you— little did you know, it had all been on purpose. 

From the privacy of his office, Soobin watched you carefully; could it be possible you caught on? Was there a reason you never wanted to be alone with him, never afraid to show the skeptic look in your eyes the moment he tried to be friendly and approach you? It’s not that Soobin hadn’t tried to dissuade your clear distrust in him— but it never worked, and most times he found that it only made things worse for him in the end. 

Normally, he would let it be— so what if you find him strange? Everyone in this office does; though he pretends otherwise, he’s fully aware of the comments they’ve all made of him— yet it never fazes him.

You however, seem to be a completely different case; he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about a human, never the type to give into his carnal desires unless absolutely necessary— even then, he’s always sure to give his prey mercy before feasting, only taking enough to satiate his hunger. 

Maybe it has to do with the way your heart seems to beat a little faster around him, your eyes stricken with a subconscious fear that sharply contrasts your cold and indifferent attitude toward him, never batting an eye yet trying to hide the way your hands seem to shake when he gets even slightly close. 

Poor little thing— in your attempts to distance yourself from him, you’ve only piqued his interest further. 

Because as Soobin sneaks yet another glance at you, watching your every mannerism with hungry eyes, he’s found himself realizing that your fear is quite addicting.

With one last reassurance that the office is empty, Soobin makes his move. 

You don’t hear his office door open; you don’t hear his footsteps approaching you, don’t even feel his presence as he stands behind you, quietly watching the way your fingers fly across your keyboard in an eager attempt to finish your last task of the day. 

“Shouldn’t you be home by now,” Soobin fights the urge to smile as he watches the way you practically jump out of your seat, twisting around violently to look at him— the way you curl into yourself slightly isn’t lost upon him, “___?”

The way your name rolls off his tongue is dangerous; it’s perfect and addicting, just like the quick beating of your heart and your eyes that widen slightly as you realize who is currently towering over you— you seem unsure of what to say as you stutter your response to him, and Soobin has to resist the urge to coo softly at the way your hands grip onto your seat a bit tighter, your eyes glued to an unknown point behind him as you speak. 

“I’m almost done, I’ll be leaving soon.” you say, biting your lip as you wait anxiously for his response; though you’ve always tried to seem flippant and indifferent in front of him, you can’t control the way your weakness leaks through you as you realize where you are— in the office, alone, cornered. 

A moment passes. Soobin has yet to say anything, and despite your instincts telling you not to, you’re nervous enough to look up at him, trying to gauge his reaction through his expression. 

His eyes lock onto yours immediately. 

You’ve never gotten a good look at his face before; every time he’d walk into the same room as you, you’d make it a point to avoid him entirely— but now, as you really begin to take him in, you realize with a slight dread that he’s incredibly handsome— you think you know why your coworkers were so eager to dismiss any strange behavior from him now. 

“There we go,” he smiles, his plump lips stretching into a smile; his teeth are perfect and shine even under the old lights of the office, and you can feel yourself shrinking slightly as you take in his smile— oddly dangerous, your eyes falling onto his sharp, fang-like teeth that glint at you, the expression more warning than welcoming—  and you will yourself to meet his gaze once more, his eyes scrunching up in a way you would’ve considered endearing— but the way his eyes flash isn’t lost upon you, and you can practically feel your heart stopping at the sight. 

“You’re finally looking at me.”

That wasn’t normal. Normal people can’t do what he just did— they can’t make their pupils glint with the same, sharp crimson that Soobin’s just did, taking in your reaction with a dark desire— no, if it weren’t for the fact that Soobin’s mere presence was already enough to make your hair raise like a frightened cats, you would’ve had half the mind to blame it on your tired brain.

“What was that?” you ask quietly, not trusting your voice to be any louder as you scoot your chair away from him slightly— a horrible choice on your part, leaving you more pressed into the desk and as a result, more trapped.

You think you might have lost your mind as you watch Soobin tilt his head, eyes almost transforming and turning into something more sweet and innocent, round and sparkling under the old office lights as he pouts slightly; a total change from the man seconds before, and you would almost begin to wonder if your mind really was playing tricks on you, if not for the subtle twitch of his lips as he takes in your befuddled expression. 

“What are you hiding,” you say, your voice becoming stern as you finally decide to take a leap of faith; you’ve had enough of cowering in suspicion, beliefs that only grow stronger as you stand, taking in Soobin’s amused expression as he watches your brave front. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, still pretending to be clueless as he takes in your accusatory tone with a raise of his brow.

“You… you’re not normal,” you feel a bit ridiculous the moment you say it out loud, but the way the man before you only begins to smile blatantly spurs you on, “You don’t have to hide from me— I’m not stupid.”

“And what will you do about it?” He asks, and it’s only then that you feel your streak of courage begin to fade; he’s taken slow, deliberate steps toward you, and before you can stop it, he’s got you pressed against the desk— hands on either side of you, arms caging you in as he looms over you dangerously, “Will you tell the others?”

You freeze as he begins to lean towards you— you’ve gone in total panic mode, unsure of what to say or do as you merely stand helpless to him, feeling a primal fear take over you as your poor heart beats harder against your chest— Soobin’s lips are near your ear, the soft huff he lets out in amusement defeating to you. 

Slowly, he begins to lean down lower— you don’t know what his intentions are or what he may do, but all you know is that you can’t remain still any longer— his breath fans across the exposed skin of your neck, and your eyes widen as you feel his teeth graze the sensitive flesh, razor sharp and threatening as he threatens to carve a path down the column of your neck; like instinct, your fists come up to push against his chest, using your full strength to push him away in a rush of adrenaline.

Except, it doesn’t work. 

Soobin remains still. Entirely. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t move an inch, even when you continue to punch at him, even beginning to kick at him when that doesn’t work— still, he remains unfazed, still as stone as you continue to try and get him off you.  

Before you can even process it, his hands fly up to catch your own; his grip is bruising, and you can’t control the pained yelp that escapes you from how tightly he’s got you in his grasp. His strength… is inhuman. Helplessly, you meet his eyes. 

“How cute.”

He smiles, and there they are again— his sharp fangs, his eyes that seem to glow threateningly at you, and his bruising strength that makes you wonder if he’ll shatter your hands— except, this time, it all seems to piece together, your mouth falling open as you begin to conclude the impossible. 

“Your heart might explode at this point,” he mutters indifferently, eyes darting down to your chest that rises and falls with rapid, panicked breaths, “What’s going on in that darling brain of yours? You seem so, so afraid.”

“What…” Your words seem to die on your tongue as you thrash weakly in his grip, attempting one last time to escape before you finally give up, discouraged as you try to continue to seem brave, even if Soobin sees right through it, “What are you…?”

Soobin grins. 

“Now you’re asking the right questions.”

♡♡♡

Your requests to transfer departments have been denied. All of them. 

Not a day has gone by where you feel safe in the office since then. Of course, there’s no way Soobin would do anything— not in such a public setting at least, where he’s vulnerable to exposing his real identity. 

That still didn’t stop you from avoiding him— if anything, your attitude toward him only became more blatant ever since that fateful night— and though you wish you could say it worked out well for you, you know that’s a lie. All it got you was more questions from your coworkers and rumors that stirred up about the two of you— whether it was a secret vendetta or a soured relationship, you think you’ve heard it all. 

“What is it about him that you just don’t like?” they would ask, nosy as ever as you simply tried to laugh it off and deny your behavior— if you told them the truth, what would they even say? How would they react?

“Why… are you telling me this?” you had asked him, sitting back against the desk in order to not fall— your legs were weak and you’re sure they would buckle the moment you tried to stand, eyes teary and giving away your fear as you stared up at Soobin.

“Because,” he laughed, the sound soft and breathy as he looked down at you, his tongue running along the top row of his perfect, razor sharp teeth; the sight was enough to make you shiver. 

“No one will believe you.”

You haven’t allowed yourself near Soobin’s presence since then. Haven’t looked in his direction, haven’t gone near him, always sure to give him a wide berth whenever he’s in the same room as you, eager to show him that you don’t tolerate his presence and that you refuse to acknowledge him, no matter how… terrifying and threatening he might be. 

Throughout the time that has passed since his confession and now, he’s taken every subtle change of yours with great interest— any change of expression, change of behavior, change of feelings, he’s taken note of it all. 

Recently, he’s taken note of your heartbeat. The sound is usually very jarring to him the moment he senses you; always rapid and panicked, even more so once you realize he’s nearby— and he’s found himself searching for the sound more often than not, beginning to seek you out even if you may not realize it. 

Though Soobin has noticed something different these days— at first, he thought he was imagining it, that it was just his deprived brain coming to conclusions that simply weren’t there, but the more he paid attention to it, the more he noticed it. 

Your heartbeat has changed. It was miniscule at first, something so minute and subtle that if Soobin hadn’t spent most of his working hours paying attention to the sound of your heart, he could have missed it. But he didn’t, and the sound only became more and more blatant to him the more time passed. 

Your heartbeat wasn’t the only thing that changed. Slowly, you changed as well. He wasn’t stupid; he wasn’t ignorant to the way you began sneaking glances at him, observing him when you thought he was unaware— but when it comes to you, he pays more attention than he lets on—  and if were to say that he didn’t notice the way you’ve began to study him with a subtle curiosity, that would be a downright lie. 

Soobin finds your act of bravery very cute. 

So, when the news is delivered that you would be presenting the monthly report of the company’s revenue to the higher ups, you think you felt your legs give out on you— Soobin could only watch with amusement from his office as you sat at your desk, a troubled expression on your face and your lips stuck in a pout as you chewed on your bottom lip like a habit— a habit Soobin had come to be jealous of, slowly finding himself craving to be the one to sink his teeth into you. 

Soobin isn’t one to feed whenever a craving arises; he only does it when absolutely necessary, finding perfect victims before he swoops in and takes his fill— always enough to satisfy himself, but never enough to hurt. 

His methods had been enough to have him survive and live a normal life, unlike those who jumped at the chance to fill a simple craving like beasts. So, being around you was both thrilling and dangerous— he found himself unable to control his thoughts the longer he remained around you, wondering what it would be like when he finally got his hands on you, wondering if you’d be willing to submit to him and let him use you as necessary. 

For a second, he even ponders keeping you for himself. 

♡♡♡

It’s late at night when you’re finally forced to present, the timing odd and unfortunate as you were told by your supervisors that “it was the only time that worked best.” The sentence was enough to have you irritated by the time the hour came along, forced to stay in your office long after everyone else had left before you finally made your way towards the presentation room on the top floor. 

It was eerily quiet and empty as you made your way up, save for a janitor here and there or another employee that was finally leaving after their overtime; you had five minutes left before you had to present, and you could feel anxiety building up inside you as you shifted your weight on your uncomfortable heels— you had been wearing the uniform for so long that you couldn’t wait for the second you could go home and change.  

Your heels clicked against the tiles of the floor, your hands gripping tightly onto the papers and laptop in your arms as you took in how many people were in the room; it wasn’t as much as you expected, but their power and positions had been enough to scare you straight as you enter slowly, closing the door behind you with a soft click as you greet them politely.

Your smile falters as you spot Soobin at the end of the meeting table, leaning back against his seat with a bored expression. 

The meeting room feels a lot smaller than it did before; you feel suffocated and on edge as your eyes meet his, feeling stiff as you slowly make your way to the podium. You’re quick to look away, eyes glued to the floor as you clear your throat nervously; even now, you can feel his eyes burning into your skin.

Soobin can feel his desire burning stronger the longer he looks at you; he’s able to take you in properly, no longer able to hide or run away as you push through the presentation, the polite smile you keep on your face professional despite the rapid beating of your heart. Soobin can feel it all— he’s trying so hard to keep his instincts under control, but you make it so difficult as you remain nervous and skittish before him, eyes meeting his as he becomes unable to hold back the smile that spreads on his face. 

You feel oddly cornered; you’re surrounded by people, but it feels like it’s just you and Soobin as you watch him flash you a smile, dangerous and terrifying as you take in the way his sharp teeth manage to stick out, even at a distance— you can’t help but feel as though you need to run away and hide. 

It’s always expected to stay back and wait for everyone to leave after you’ve presented; so that’s exactly what you do, head ducked down as you pretend as though the idle screen of your computer is much more interesting than your supervisors that file out and chat amongst themselves. Biting your lip, you try to ignore the way you can practically feel Soobin’s presence as he comes closer— you’re eerily aware of the way it’s just the two of you now, the heavy door clicking shut after the last person that left. 

Your attempt to ignore him until the very end is almost cute to Soobin. He can’t help but let out a breathy laugh as he watches the way you flinch, figure becoming tense as you take in the way he comes up behind you, looking over your shoulder to see what could possibly be taking up your attention like this. 

“Well done,” Soobin says, his voice smooth as ever as he takes in the way you shiver slightly, “your presentation was quite impressive.”

All you can do is let out a soft thank you, hoping your uninterested tone and closed off posture is enough to shake him off— but of course it’s not, and you’re practically scared to breathe as you hear the man take a step closer to you, your jaw clenching as you feel his head hovering over your shoulder. 

“Is something wrong? You look a little… tense.”

You’re shutting your laptop and ready to exit in the blink of an eye— but before you can even take a step towards the exit, you’re being pulled back, pushed against the podium and shrinking against it as you meet Soobin’s gaze. 

“Please, leave me alone.”

There it is— the look Soobin has desperately been craving, eyes darkening at the way you stare up at him, meekly masked with a brave front as your eyes give away your true emotions; he inhales slowly, and he can practically drown in the way your scent changes at his proximity, the once sweet and alluring smell now intense and intoxicating, the twinge of something new piquing his interest as he finds himself stuck on it, unsure of what it may be. 

“Have I done something wrong? It seems that you didn’t like me from the very start,” Soobin’s act of innocence is far from amusing to you. You’re unsure of what response he could possibly be looking for as he stares at you expectantly, pouty lips and round eyes a contrast to the true identity he revealed to you long ago. 

“You know what it is,” you say, finding yourself unable to make space between you and Soobin as you press yourself further against the podium, “You— you’re not… human. You’re dangerous, I don’t want you near me.”

Your words are enough to have Soobin’s brows raising in surprise— the sudden confrontational tone you’ve taken on is quite surprising, and he finds himself oddly satisfied with the way your heart rate slowly begins to change, your scent going from something more panicked and sharp to something that practically makes Soobin dizzy— he has to hold himself back from getting lost in it as he smiles softly at you. 

“Dangerous?” he repeats, though he doesn’t seem to be offended by the word as he slowly begins to lean in; of course, you lean away in response, but it only gives you so much space before you’re craning your neck back awkwardly, leaving you in a vulnerable position as Soobin eyes it carefully. 

“Have I… done anything… dangerous, to you?” 

Soobin’s voice is barely above a whisper; if you weren’t so focused on his every word, you could have missed it. 

You gulp; Soobin’s eyes flicker down from yours, and you can feel yourself shiver at the realization that he’s staring at your neck. His words ring out in your head again, and you feel yourself tensing from a threat that seems to be hidden behind it all. 

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you...” Your eyes are widening at his confession. There’s an unknown emotion swimming in Soobin’s eyes, and you can feel your hands cramping from how hard you’ve been gripping the edges of the podium behind you. 

His eyes flicker back up.

You can feel yourself get transported back to the lonely day at the office, the scene eerily familiar as you take in the way his pupils become dilated, an intense glow of crimson swimming within as you find yourself unable to look away; the sight is almost alluring, and you realize with a heavy dread that Soobin is holding back— from what exactly, you’re unsure. 

“You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?” he asks softly; you’re brought back to your senses as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear as he speaks, the deep rumble of his voice sending shivers through your spine, “I’ve noticed it all— especially the way your heart and body reacts to me now. Was it fun, pretending to hate me?”

Everything is so overwhelming. It feels as though your head is underwater as your mouth parts, unsure of what Soobin is going on about— you practically jump at the feeling of his hand landing on your waist, cold and big as his thumb gently caresses the spot.

“Aren’t you curious, bunny?” he asks, and you don’t realize that your eyes have been shut tight until you feel him pull away, confused by the sudden absence of his presence. 

He seems to be lost in thought; his chest heaves with a deep breath— once, twice, his eyes fluttering shut in concentration— then he sighs, eyes slowly opening and a smile twitching at his mouth, lips slowly being stretched into a grin. He looks at you, at your cowering figure, your pounding heart, and your scent infused with a certain twinge he realizes he’s very familiar with— just, not familiar smelling it from you.

“You’re enjoying this,” your scent is thick and heavy, settling deep into his head and leaving him intoxicated from the realization that you’re aroused, face heating up and expression dropping with horror at his words; it’s no question, especially with the way your lips press together to withhold a weak whimper, “aren’t you?” 

When you push Soobin off this time, he lets you; he stumbles back and watches the way you shake your head frantically, as if that could deny the way the way you have yet to run away, the way your scent only grows tenfold at the way he takes slow, deliberate steps towards you— your face is flushed and your legs tremble pathetically as you step back from him, walking along the long table as he only steps towards you in response. 

“I’m— I’m not, you’re—” you can’t even seem to finish your words, mind blanking and eyes becoming glassy as he realizes that you’re embarrassed; he coos softly at the realization, reaching out teasingly to grab you, laughing heartily at the way you yelp and flinch away— as though he were something you should be guilty of being attracted to, as if the way you were feeling was dangerous. 

And maybe it was. 

“Are you embarrassed?” he coos softly, lips pouting as he looks at you with pity; you’re running out of room, about to go around the table and inevitably make your way back around to the exit— but not if Soobin can help it, eager to not let you out of his clutches this time as he rushes over to you; he’s grabbing your waist and pinning you against the windows of the meeting room in the blink of an eye, taking in the way you squeal in surprise and brace your hands against his chest— your heart is pounding at a harsh pace, a stark contrast to the way you feel nothing at all under your palms that press against the firm muscles of Soobin’s chest.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he sighs, pressing you flush against the windows and watching the way your eyes screw shut, attempting to curl in on yourself as you press your thighs together tightly; the sound of your tights rubbing together is almost deafening to Soobin, and his fingers dig just a bit deeper into the flesh of your hips, as though he were holding himself back.

“It’s normal to feel this way, you know,” he coaxes you softly, whispering soft reassurances as he runs his hands up and down your sides, smoothing the fabric of your clothes and running down your tight mini-skirt; feeling the way your thighs tremble as his fingers skirt along the material that covers it, blunt nails scratching your flesh and pulling the sheer cloth along. 

“You’re so tense, bunny,” he mourns, feeling the way your breath hitches as his hands move— one pressing against the small of your back harshly, the other grabbing at the back of your thigh in attempts to press you closer against him, caging you in entirely; your back is arching and your head is involuntarily tilting back as your neck is bared to him; through wet lashes and wide, doe eyes, you finally look up at him.

“Don’t be scared,” he breathes out, his hand trailing up your thigh, cold palm smoothing the material of your tights, ruthless against the cloth of your skirt as he drags it along— hand hitching on your shirt and tugging it up slightly, your chest rising sharply with the breath you take as he brushes up, up the delicate column of your neck until he’s got your chin in his palm— fingers digging into the plush of your cheeks, forcing you to keep your eyes on him as he smiles— it’s sweet, it’s dark, it’s predatory, and it sends a lick of fire down your body.

“I’ll take good care of you.”

When Soobin begins to lean closer, you don’t flinch away; your mind blanks and your lips part expectantly, pulse still quick and afraid under Soobin’s fingers that press against your neck, just under your jawline— and your eyes flutter shut, delicate lashes decorated with tears that wet your skin, a dark facade that only spurs Soobin on more— he’s finally got you under him, and it’s just as thrilling as he imagined. 

When he kisses you, it’s gentle. He’s treating you like a fragile thing, testing the waters, waiting for you to respond to the way his plush lips press against yours, sighing in content the moment you do; your hands still shake against him though, unsure of what to do with them, only making Soobin hold back a groan at the way you grab onto the clean, pressed shirt the moment he slips his tongue past your lips, tasting you with such eagerness that you’re left breathless.

You’re shocked stiff when you feel it; his teeth, razor sharp and cautious, grazing along your bottom lip. The whimper you let out does nothing to distract Soobin from sensing the way your scent spikes, dense and rushing to his head as he does the only thing he knows how to do; his teeth sink into your swollen bottom lip, ripping a pained moan from you as your hands panic and press against his chest— but he stays there, feeling his fangs sink into the flesh, feeling the way blood pools around the wound and onto your mouth, on his teeth— he’s just as quick to pull them out, his hand that was once on your jaw traveling to the back of your head in a haste; eager to keep you close, tilting your head up and keeping your mouth parted as you simply allow him to lick and suck at the blood, to kiss you as though he could die any moment now. 

It doesn’t hurt after a moment— that much surprises you, the only pain you feel coming from your burning lungs, from the need to be parted and breathe— but Soobin has deemed you his oxygen, his life force, reluctant to part even as you whine and plead quietly under him; after a moment, he finally gives in to your weak cries. 

The string of saliva that connects you two is stained red; just like Soobin’s lips, and undoubtedly your own as well. His teeth are stained and your blood continues to fill your mouth, the taste metallic and strong as you try to regain your breath— slowly, your lip begins to feel strange, a tingling sensation running from your wound to your tongue, through the blood you swallow and into your system; your eyes widen, and Soobin merely looks at you with a knowing smile. 

“What’s happening to me?” you ask softly, hands trailing up his chest to get purchase on his shoulders, broad and stable as you hold onto them like a lifeline— your body feels warm, your head is fogging, and your wound no longer stings— but the blood still dribbles out of it, far too much for you to keep up with it as you swallow continuously— and the feeling only worsens, until your thighs shake and Soobin’s touch suddenly feels much, much warmer. 

“I feel— I feel…” you’re not sure how to describe this feeling; all you know is that you’re pulling Soobin back in for a kiss, fingers threading into his soft hair and tugging desperately to feel his tongue against yours again; to feel the way it runs along your bites soothingly, whimpering softly and being met with a soft groan in response; your taste, something Soobin once thought would be the thing to finally satiate him, is something he simply cannot get enough of. 

“Feel weird, bun?” he asks softly, pulling away and cooing at the way you cry at the loss of him, “I know, I know— let me make it feel better, okay?”

Your form is no longer curled up in a desperate attempt to close yourself off; you’re no longer trying to hide the way your panties stick to you and your stomach burns with a strong desire, the window suddenly cold against you as you allow Soobin to press more against you, to place a thigh in between your legs, firm and thick as he goes up, up, and against your cunt— you practically keen at the feeling. 

“It’s okay bunny, you’re okay,” Soobin says softly, both his hands finding themselves on your hips as he presses you against him; cute skirt now ruffled just under his hands, showcasing your sheer tights and your lace panties that are completely soaked; soft cunt grinding against his thigh, leaving a mess of slick arousal that only serves to spur the both of you more— your scent invading Soobin’s senses shamelessly, just as shameless as the sounds you let out, hips angling so that your clit can rub against the harsh muscle of his thighs.

He clenches and jolts the muscle against you. You’re left to weakly hold onto him, a hand on his forearm while the other is placed on top of his own hand, gaze going down to watch the way you rut against him stupidly— harsh pants leaving you as you watch your panties become soiled, your tights suddenly a lot thicker as they impede you from really feeling him— but you push the thought aside in favor of looking back up at him, unable to hide the shiver that wracks through you at the realization that he was already watching your face intently.

“Feels good?” he asks, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes, gauging your expression carefully— you nod frantically, attempting to say something, only for it to be cut off by a choked moan— Soobin has pressed your cunt flush against his thigh, forcing you to a slow grind that threatens your folds to spill out your underwear, the dirty sounds of your tights rubbing against the fabric of his pristine, smooth dress pants enough to have your face burning— and Soobin revels in the shame that it brings you, taking in the subtle, acidic changes of your scent with a deep inhale— he’s fascinated, and he refuses to let you go until his curiosity is satiated. 

“What do you want, bunny?” The nickname affects you, that much he can tell— he holds you tighter, leans in to whisper in your ear, already feeling the way his close proximity is enough to have your heart rate spike, even if just for a second.

“How do you like it, hmmm? Want me to go harder?” his thigh tightens in a truly cruel way, angling it so that you can truly feel the contours of his every muscle— “faster?” and suddenly, you’re nothing but a pretty doll in his arms, his hands guiding your pace so that you’re riding him as recklessly as you want; the mewl you let out is enough to give him the answer he wants, changing his rhythm until he gets a particularly pathetic sound out of you. 

“Like this?” He continues his set pace. And you’re shivering, unable to do nothing more than chant yes, yesyesyes, breathless and practically inaudible as you focus on the hot pleasure that you feel; Soobin is busying himself by whispering sweet nothings into your ear, things that would have you gasping and turning into a flustered mess any other day— but here, in these lonely, dark hours, with no one else around, you allow yourself to indulge; allow yourself to nod along to the way he asks if you’ll be a good little pet for him, if you’ll let him use you until he’s satisfied— and it all goes straight to your cunt, bringing a fresh wave of soaking arousal and making the pleasure in your stomach tighten until it’s unbearable. 

You’re so close— and you’re quick to let Soobin know, watching your frantic attempts to take over the pace he’s set for you, whining and whimpering weakly as you search for that one thing that will set you off— and Soobin abandons whispering into your ear to place delicate kisses behind it, plush lips trailing down the column as his fingers dig into your hips, pressing you down against him, just like the way his lips trail lower, pressing kiss after kiss until his mouth opens and—

A cry is all you can muster as you fall apart on him. His teeth that grazed the sensitive spot of your neck have since then retreated, and Soobin is quick to sweep back in to steal your lips, pulling you in for a kiss you don’t have the mind to reciprocate; mind emptied, cunt clenching and soaking his pants as you allow him help you to continue riding out your high, whimpering weakly at the way he breaks the kiss to coo soft praise at you.

Come on bunny, let go sweet thing, that’s it, so perfect for me.

You’re not fully there by the time your orgasm has subsided; your mind is just as tingly and foggy as the rest of your body, your movements lethargic as you grab desperately at Soobin— craving nothing else but him, feeling as though the burning of your body can only be cooled by his touch— your eyes are glassy and fucked out as you stare at him, hips moving without you realizing as you silently beg him for more.

Soobin feels as though he could make you cum like this a few more times; entranced with the way your brows furrow and your mouth drops the moment you fall apart, the way your moans become choked and breathless as you ride out your peak— but he’s also undeniably greedy to be inside you, a desire he knows you share, judging by the way your hand has begun to trail down his chest slowly, eyes drifting down to the outline of his hardened cock against his smooth dress pants.

“Please…” you whisper out weakly, looking back at him with a face so pretty and undeniably pathetic that he refuses to hold back any longer— grabbing your hips and turning you two around quickly, forcing you to stumble back until you’re pressed against the table— and it doesn’t end there, letting out a whimper as Soobin hoists you up, the wood cool under your ass as Soobin continues to hover over you with need; you shrink under the intensity of his gaze, feeling your body buzz with a slight fear— and a slight adrenaline. 

“What is it?” he asks, voice apathetic as he places a firm hand on your chest; pushing you down slowly, until you’re laying on the table and Soobin has parted your legs with ease to stand in between them; you’re whimpering out half-hearted and incoherent requests that Soobin doesn’t bother paying attention to, the hand on your chest making quick work to unbutton your shirt; low-lidded eyes taking in the cute bra that was hidden beneath, just as lacy and pretty as your panties as he smiles at the sight— your mind sobers for a second as you attempt to cover yourself in embarrassment, but Soobin refuses to let you as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them above you. His face is dangerously close to yours as he glares at you. 

“Tell me bunny,” he grits out, feeling his clothed bulge press against your warm cunt, tensing at the way your arousal already leaks through the clothing; his hold tightens around your wrists and you squirm, legs locking on his hips as you try to grind your cunt against him— the sight is both endearing and pathetic to him. “I won’t know what you need unless you tell me.”

“Need you, please please, wanna feel you,” you ramble, wrists fighting to get out his grasp as you hips buck under him; your mind has become foggy once more, nothing else but a deep desire in your head that you know only he can satiate— you’re desperate for his touch and he knows it, so to have him deny you like this is nothing short of cruel. 

He’s not satisfied by your begging. His face remains stoic as he lets go of your wrists, eyes narrowing at the way you grab onto his sleeves, eyes glassy and fucked over as you cry for him not to leave you like this— your body feels weird, and you just don’t know how to make it go away— you’re trying desperately to tell him what he wants, but nothing seems to work as you run your mouth until you’ve finally pressed the right button.

“Soobin, I— please, feel so weird, just wanna feel you, please help me, please?” your body is restless and you feel as though your heart only beats for the man above you, hot tears spilling from your eyes and running down your face; Soobin is quick to brush them away with gentle hands, shushing you quietly as he pulls at his tie; it was practically suffocating him anyways, and he feels as though he can finally breathe as he finally takes it off— and begins to tie it around your wrists with deft hands, enough for it to restrain you but not enough to hurt— and he’s left with a bit of extra length that allows him to pull your wrists down and flush against your stomach, watching the way your fingers absentmindedly stretch toward him, furthering your attempts to touch him as your rambles continue seamlessly.

“Soobin…” you cry softly, your chest heaving softly, supple skin peeking from your undone shirt, “feels so hot, wan’ your help… need your cock…”

There’s a thin layer of sweat that covers your body; a light sheen that sparkles along your chest and abdomen, hidden by the white, neat shirt that Soobin simply pulls further apart with a rough hand, untucking it haphazardly from your mini-skirt— and you shudder, unable to do nothing more but lay there as you wait for Soobin to do something— a soft cry of his name has him shuddering, dark eyes flickering back to your face as you repeat the pitiful sound. 

His name has never sounded sweeter. He’s leaving wet, sloppy kisses along your breasts, free hand shoving the rest of your skirt up and onto your waist roughly— your body jolts from the crude movements, thighs shaking at the way his cool fingers skirt around the inside, drifting closer to where you need him the most, a shuddered sigh escaping you once his cool palm is pressed onto your cunt. 

The fire in your body burns brighter. His touch is addicting and the lust that courses through your blood is only amplified by the feeling of him teasingly biting your breasts— never enough to break the skin, but enough to remind you of who he is, of what he’s capable of. 

His strength is something you will never be used to— he’s able to rip your tights with a single hand, not flinching at all before he’s moving onto your panties next; the sound of the fabric tearing is eliciting a soft gasp from you, only for it to be replaced with a broken whine as his fingers glide up and down your slit— feeling just how much of a mess you’ve made, soaking his fingers and dripping onto the table as you buck your hips at him desperately— his fingers are wet as they circle your clit slowly, needy whines escaping you at the small stimulation, quietly begging for more— but he simply teases you, dark eyes staring up at your face and drinking every change of your face eagerly.

His fingers slip in so smoothly it makes him let out a soft moan; you’re so wet and tight, needy walls pulsing and sucking him in desperately, your cries still broken as you try to grind your hips against his two fingers, long and calculated as he presses along your walls, curling curiously and searching for the spot that will have you weak beneath him— and he finds it in no time, a long moan escaping you the moment the pads of his fingers press against it, curling and uncurling, watching the way your legs shake and jump at the sensation with a wicked grin; he’s pumping his fingers into you, adding another finger in, stretching you out until you feel as though you can’t handle anymore— and he tugs at your restraints teasingly, looking down at the way your nails dig into your palm and your arms become stiff from the pleasure— it only takes the feeling of his palm pressing against your clit for your breaths to pick up and become frantic.

“Soobin— Soobin please, ah— so– so close, gonna cum, ngh—” you’re thrashing under him, the pleasure so intense that you’re fighting against his restraints, head turning to the side as though you could hide your face from him, “please, need it, need t’cum, fuck…!”

You’re breathless and on the verge of tears, and Soobin takes it all in eagerly; he watches the way your face twists with pleasure, the way your arousal has soaked his hand and leaves your tight-covered thighs slick, and he feels the way your walls begin to tighten around him, so close, so impossibly close— he just needs to grind his palm against your clit a little harder, harshen his thrust so that your sweet spot is abused and you’re left a wailing mess, maybe bite at your skin teasingly, a promise for what’s to come—

But he doesn’t. He does the exact opposite of that, watching as your eyes widen and a broken look of realization dawns on your lips, eyes cloudy and filled with tears that refuse to spill; your voice is defeated and breaks with every frantic plea, your hips bucking desperately to try and get that fleeting pleasure Soobin is now denying you.

“No, nononono,” you babble, hiccuping softly as you screw your eyes shut, tears finally escaping you at the action, “noooo, please don’t stop— close, was so close to….”

Your words are interrupted by a soft sob that escapes you, your mind and body so desperate for pleasure that you feel as though your whole life-force is being taken away; your soft pleas blend together as you stare up at Soobin with pathetic eyes, hands that were once closed shut now stretching out to try and reach for him— but he refuses, staring down at your broken form with a blank face.

Soobin is quick to shut up your slurred pleas; his fingers are slipping out your cunt, dripping and shining with your slick arousal as he brings them up to your face— slapping softly at your cheek, watching the way your cum smothers over the soft skin and your mouth opens without much of a thought— your lips are tempting and pretty as they wrap around his fingers, a shiver running through his body at the feeling of your warm tongue running along the soiled skin, tasting yourself and letting out a soft moan; hazy eyes staring up at him, ruined cunt still bucking up at him subtly, as though tempting him to finish what he started.

And that’s exactly what he’ll do— his fingers are slow to slip out of your mouth, watching the dumbed out expression on your face as he does so— and his hand is trailing back down your body, brushing over the exposed skin with your spit-soaked fingers, not stopping until he’s back down at your pretty cunt. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, bunny,” he says softly, his thumb going to rub gentle circles on your clit, his index and middle finger running up and down your folds— his other hand has abandoned your restraints, and you attempt to sit up slightly as you watch him undo his pants— unbuckling his belt and letting it and hang loose, undoing his jeans with haste and letting them lay low on his hips, his hand disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxers— and you can only let out a whimper at the sight of him finally pulling his cock out, long and thick with a flushed tip, leaking so much precum that you wish nothing more than to clean him up nicely with your tongue.

The pressure on your clit is becoming harsher; he’s building you up again, watching with apathetic eyes as your sounds begin to pick up again, still tense from your previous, ruined orgasm. You shake your head at the feeling, whining that it’s unfair, don’t wanna cum like this— need you inside, need your cock, pleaasee— god— 

But he doesn’t stop— he’s stroking his cock at the same pace he’s set for you, the slick sounds of him fucking his fist going straight to your head, eyes fluttering shut at the overwhelming sight before you, nimble fingers swiping over his tip to collect his leaking arousal— and you’re close again, you don’t think you’ll be able to stop it this time, even if he pulls away, even if he tells you not to—

Soobin lets you cum this time. He watches the way your eyes widen and your mouth falls open with shock, his face twisting into concentration as he lets you cum on the head of his cock, pressing it in and breaching your walls just before you hit your peak— and you feel stretched, you feel full, helpless cries escaping you as he begins to thrust the rest of his length into your clenching walls, hands unsure of what to hang onto before you’re able to grab a bit of his shirt— and you’re pulling much harder than expected, eyes widening as you watch a few of his buttons pop off, not able to focus too much on it due to the feeling of his thick, pulsing cock entering you with every clench of your walls. 

Your chest heaves in attempts to calm yourself down— his shirt is twisted in your fingers, but it’s not enough to ground you as you feel the way his length curves into you, pressing against the abused and sensitive spot that has you keening and clenching around him, shaky legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer— and he’s hovering over you, supporting himself with a forearm by your head as the other holds onto your waist. 

He begins to move— it’s slow and subtle, starting at nothing but a grind of his hips as he feels the way your hot walls adjust around him, squeezing and fluttering and expanding, all as you try to take in his impressive size— then he pulls out slowly, feeling the way your cunt attempts to protest the action, your eyes rolling back at the way you feel every detail of him, pulling all the way out until the only thing left is his tip that catches on your entrance, the rest of his length covered in your shared arousal. 

Soobin remains there for a second; deep breaths fanning against your skin as he closes his eyes in concentration, willing himself to not cum at the feeling of you, the sight of you underneath him, the sounds that are panted and whined directly against the shell of his ear. 

Without warning, his hips snap back against yours— the action is sudden and has your body sliding up the table slightly, only to be brought back down by Soobin, who wraps the length of his tie around his hand and pulls you back against him— burying himself deeper into you, feeling the way his cock practically splits you open— but you like it, your scent practically emptying his mind and your walls gripping him like a vice— it’s hard to move, but Soobin accepts this challenge eagerly as he begins to fuck you. 

Slow, it’s so agonizingly slow. But it’s deep, and Soobin angles his hips so perfectly, grunting against your ear and letting out sighs with every pull of your restraints, the tie tightening around your wrists and sending you back down on his cock ruthlessly; you’re nothing but a doll for him to use and control, your sharp heels digging into his back as you try to hold onto him helplessly, treated like nothing but a ragdoll as Soobin slowly begins to pick up his pace. 

Then his hips are slamming against yours. The sounds of skin against skin is echoing harshly into the meeting room, and his cockhead is mean and thick and heavy as it presses against your sweet spot, again and again until you’re hiccuping moans, unable to breathe, unable to fight against the overwhelming pleasure— and it’s just how you like it. 

Your mind is racing, your mouth unable to spit out a coherent thought— but your body speaks for you, and Soobin watches as you begin to grow restless under him, the way your legs tense and your hands pull at his shirt, eyes rolling to the back of your head and fluttering shut as he retaliates by fucking you a little harder; your wrists ache and so does the rest of your body, but you don’t seem to care as you walk this tightrope of pain and pleasure, something Soobin is well versed in— he laughs softly at your fucked out expression, releasing a sharp breath before his lips are hovering right by your ear, sentences punctuated and broken up by the exertion of his body and the moans that your cunt rips out of him. 

“That’s a good bunny— cunt so fucking tight– shit, just wanna make you mine, keep you to myself, claim you like you deserve—” he listens to the way you react to his words, feels it, your cries and nods not slipping past him as he lets out a breathy laugh, “you’d like that? Yeah? Fill— fill you up nice and full— fuckin’– take care of you like a good little pet— hah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You’re nodding, fuck, there’s drool building up in the corners of your mouth, tongue lolling and absentmindedly brushing past the bite marks on your lips, the dull sting only bringing about more shocks throughout your body, desperate to be satiated, a fire begging to be put out— and the idea of being nothing else but Soobin’s, his to use and claim, is absolute heaven in your mind. 

The knot in your stomach is becoming impossibly tight; you’re on the verge of hitting your peak again, Soobin can tell, yet there’s something else your body seems to be begging for— and he knows exactly what it is, grinning wildly and practically stealing the thoughts from your head as he pulls the tie in his hands roughly; his inhuman strength sending you back down on his cock with ease, lips brushing against your ear and hot pants making you shiver as he speaks to you in that dangerous, low voice of his. 

“Say it,” he growls, his pace not faltering even if your cunt is willing to hold him so tightly he’s unable to pull out at all, your head thrown back and your eyes screwing shut from the pleasure.

“Tell me you want it. Tell me you’ll take it– fuck– take it like a good pet— say it. Say it, use your words, bunny.”

Your words are coming back to you with a particularly unforgiving thrust of his— eyes widening as they search for Soobin’s frantically, only to be met with his head of blond hair and his face that’s tucked in the security of your bared neck— and you let go of any shame that was left inside you, a carnal and primal feeling overtaking you as you beg, and beg, and beg. 

“Please– please please, I want it, I need it— Wanna be yours, wanna be claimed— fill me, use me I– need— need it, hnng– want it, want you to fill me, cum inside please— been so good, right? I’ll take it, I— ah! I— wan’ you to claim me, make me yours—!”

Soobin has never heard anything more perfect. He’s calculated as he thrusts right into your sweet spot, once, twice, three times— and he sinks his teeth into your pretty little neck, listening to the wanton squeal you let out, cunt immediately soaking and choking his cock— but he holds you down nicely, pressing his weight onto you and placing both hands at your hips, making sure you can’t squirm away from him or his cock that lets you ride out your orgasm, rutting his cock into you even after you’ve begun to shake from the sensitivity.

Your blood is heavenly. There’s no single word that could describe its taste, the way it makes his body shiver and his eyes roll back, finally setting him off the moment he swallows. And he cums inside you, fills you up good, the warm liquid squirting endlessly inside you, prolonging the feeling with the subtle rocks of his hips. It goes on longer than the two of you expected, filling you up with cum until it has no room to go, dripping out of your abused hole and leaving a ring around the base of Soobin’s length.

He listens to the way you cry and sniffle above him, lost in the pleasure— it doesn’t hurt. No, far from it. It makes you see stars and makes another weak wave crash over you, and you think your consciousness is slowly slipping out of you from the intensity of the pleasure you’ve received; Soobin’s lips are stuck on your neck for a few more seconds, warm tongue brushing over the sore punctures before he’s pulled away, your neck sensitive and bruised from the bite.

And it heals nicely the moment he’s pulled away. But there’s something different this time, something that shows up on your skin that he’s never seen before; two faded dots remain on your skin, and though it’ll remain inconspicuous to everyone else, Soobin immediately recognizes it with a soft shudder— he feels his cock twitch inside you.

It looks like his body has agreed with his mind; you’re the perfect fit for him, his to use and take care of until he can’t anymore— he rubs soft circles on your hips, straightening up and looking at the mess before him with fond, lustful eyes— a sheen of sweat covering your whole figure, your closed eyes and parted mouth, your shirt that’s been left open and mirrors his own torn one, your bound wrists and skirt that’s haphazardly bunched at your hips. 

And his eyes wander lower, to take in the way your thighs continue to tremble and his cum leaks out, staining your tights and the table of the meeting room— you’re waking once more with a soft groan, looking up at Soobin through bleary, red-rimmed eyes. 

He leans over, hovering above your face; pulling you in for a sweet kiss, smiling at the way you can’t even reciprocate it properly— and he nips at your bottom lip teasingly, feeling the way you immediately shiver in response. 

“So good for me, bunny,” he smiles, continuing to trail kisses all along your face, on your jaw, traveling to your neck— and his eyes scan your faded bites with satisfaction, kissing it softly and feeling the way your body warms immediately.

“You’re all mine now, you know that?” your cunt clenches involuntarily at his words— and he’s slowly beginning to rut his cock into you again, already feeling a cruel thirst fester within.

“All mine.”

You can take another round, he’s sure of that— after all, you’re his good little pet.