#moablr

Raising your fist to the door, your knuckles rap against it with a few thick knocks. The door is frosted around the edges in little swirling white puffs of icing, framing the gingerbread door. It’s the same all around his house: gumdrops and candy canes and the like, all twinkling with sugar crystals.

It’s all so sweet—unbelievably so. The man that calls it home is the very antithesis of sweet. He does not take after the gumdrop, nor the sweetness of the icing, and most definitely not the brown sugar and molasses of the gingerbread. Taehyun is the quick snapping of a leg, or the sharpness on your tongue when you get to the cinnamon and nutmeg. 

You loathe it. Even being stood here, knocking at his door, you hate. He is everything uncouth and abrasive—he is everything you should not entertain. 

Here you are, entertaining it. The door swings open. Your fingers and toes have begun to slow with the cold, like frosty-whip in the fridge. Through the forest, stepping over sugar bushes and cocoa streams, you had fought the bite. Why did he have to live all the way out here? Secluded, as though the rest of Strawberryland were beneath his meddling. You know why: it’s that he believes it. He is exactly as your parents told you he’d be, all those years ago. Of course, they were right. They always are.

When he catches sight of you at his door, his distant eyes morph, and his lip tugs into a scowl. The rise of his brows ruffles your feathers with an infuriating ease. “Is there something you want?” he asks. His tone is infuriating, too. It’s the kind of question that means much more beyond the words said. You catch exactly what he means—how he intends to get under your skin.

Hidden behind the door, he has one hand on the handle. It's an unspoken thing, too. He wants you to remember that he could close it. You can’t let him, or else you’ll have drug your pretty new furry winter boots through the powdered snow for him to slam a door in your face. “Yeah, actually. There is.” You run preening fingers through the ends of your hair. “We’re partners for the bake-off.”

“I don’t do the bake-off,” he says. His eyes would be chocolate and smooth if it weren’t for the way he wields them sharp. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to find somebody more your speed for that.”

Barking an incredulous, perhaps even snobby, laugh, you look around. Snow comes down on the ground, sweet and creamy. It’d been enough of a battle to come here. If you were going to give up so easily, you would’ve turned your little bottom around perhaps two hours ago. Does he think you hadn’t considered that? It was a long walk; you had plenty of time to mull over the many things he might do. Sometimes, you imagined him diplomatic and affable. You stomped those wispy thoughts out. Perhaps it’s been years since you’ve spoken with him, and perhaps what happened between the two of you is dusted over, but you know better. Here he stands in front of you: bitter as ever. 

“You’re just gonna leave me without a partner?” you say. Your jaw trembles, seized finally by the cold. “Everybody is already paired up. Literally everybody.”

Shrugging, he says, “I don’t see how that’s my problem. I didn’t sign up for it.”

Your brows knit. That means somebody else had signed him up. You have a sneaking suspicion who might’ve—Blueberry Kai always tells you that he just feels excluded. It’s hard not to laugh when he does. Taehyun? Excluded?  He is exactly where he wants to be. Where most are sweet in Strawberryland, the snappy gingerbread finds it easier to justify his bitterness when he lives off in his little gingerbread home, out and away in his own neck of the forest only to be found by a winding gumdrop road, where he can pretend he’s above it all.

It’s entirely ironic. Him, better than you? Gingerbread, and all his ruggedness? His unpolished edges? Once, you’d believed that the two of you weren’t so different. That you could be friends, even. Seeing what he’s grown to be, you think you understand why your parents stepped in. Back then, though, as just that soft little girl who followed the charismatic boy around with crystal stars in your eyes, it had been the worst thing to ever happen to you. He had been so gravity-defying, moving through the soft, marshmallow edges and the sugar-whipped reality of Strawberryland as something different.

No. Not gravity-defying. Rather, in the powdery and sweet sweet Strawberryland, you think that he is the only thing with gravity.

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” he echoes, letting a little patronizing laugh out along with it. “That’s sweet.”

It’s hard not to shift or cross your arms over your chest, abraded by the dripping sneer.

“What? It’s not. It’s not fair that, just because you don’t want to at least give it a try, I can’t participate,” you say. Really, you should just crawl back home and beg to join somebody’s duo, but you can’t lose like that. You can’t lose to him. If you leave it like this, then he’ll have gotten the better of you. 

“Can’t get everything we want, huh?” he says, straightening up and taking the door in his hand once more. “Just because everybody else has bent backward to give you what you want doesn’t mean that I will.”

“Wait,” you say, sighing in a white swirl. “Don’t close the door. Don’t you know your manners? It’s rude. You’re just going to let me freeze out here? I walked all the way out here, and even got snow all over my new boots, just for this, just for you to slam a door in my face? I mean, a gentleman would at least invite me in to warm me up.”

Lips twitching into a laugh and his eyes suddenly alight, he says, “A gentleman, huh?” He pulls the door open a little further. The warmth from his home, warm and spiced and oh-so-inviting like oven-warmed gingerbread, brushes over your twinkling skin. “Sure. Show me your manners, then. I want you to ask me nicely.”

Your jaw tightens. Sending him a once over, sharpening your eyes, you decide to just do it. His tone is nasty, but you don’t want to be disqualified for not having a partner. Even if he’s the worst you could’ve been paired with in all of Strawberryland. Or maybe the best, because it’s a gingerbread house competition this year. “Will you just do it?”

“I said ask nicely. Say please.” 

He wears a mean smile—he’s having fun watching you squirm. So, you make a conscious effort to straighten up. “Will you please be my partner for the competition?” you say, making your voice sugary and batting your eyelashes in an overdone way. He thinks he’s funny.

Stepping out of the doorway, he motions you inside. It might look gentlemanly if it weren't for the sting in his eyes. You swallow down petty words and push through, your arms full with supplies. Arms aching, you finally let them clatter down over the countertop. The inside of his home is fresh-baked and spiced, aromatic like a true gingerbread cookie straight from the oven. You’re sure the glowing fire helps carry the smell in warm air. It wraps your cold bones up and smooths over some of the frayed edges. You’d been out there for so long… Nobody else had to walk that far for their partner.

Better just to get this done as quickly as you can. You just have to put up with him today, and you’ll be done, and then you can have fun with the competition. He won’t even show up for it; you’re sure. 

“I’ll do it all if it’s that big of a deal,” you tell him, laying out the walls and warming the icing between your palms. “You can put the peppermint on, I guess. So then we can say we both worked on it.”

Hair the fluffy brown of true gingerbread and dusted with snowflakes like powdered sugar. Taehyun shakes his head, and it moves with him. “No,” he says, the corners of his lips still turned up as though he knows something you don’t. He rolls the sleeves of his gaudy, knitted Christmas sweater up to his elbows. The corded muscle there, flickering with movement, catches you off guard. Gingerbread, built like that? Tearing your eyes off him with the effort of metal tearing itself from a magnet, you watch him approach the kitchen counters. “I’ll help. We’re partners, right?”

No matter what he says, there’s a twist of something sparkling in those sharp eyes that has you watching him closer—has you trying to gauge exactly what he’s playing at. “Uh… Yeah. Sure. If you want to, I guess.” You gesture at the walls. “Two for us, and ten for display. Can you start the walls?”

“Ten?” he says. “We’re making twelve gingerbread houses?”

With your lips pulled taut, you say, “Yeah… Twelve. Is that too much? I didn’t think any amount of gingerbread houses would be too much for you. That’s a little ironic.” Everything is warm in his home—even when you look down at your own hands to tug off your white woolen gloves, your skin that usually sparkles like frost rests just beneath the surface is tinged with the warmth.

“I can handle it just fine,” he says, taking the wall and base sections of one. “Just wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty outfit. Twelve is a lot of icing.” He spits the word pretty out like it tastes bad. On his tongue, you’re sure it does. He never cared for pretty things the way you do. Your mommy always said that he was just jealous, but when the both of you were little, before your parents’ meddling, you learned that it was just a different lifestyle. One that you don’t understand, perhaps. Who doesn’t enjoy dressing themselves in lush furs and sugar crystals over their necks? 

“I’ll be fine,” you say, snipping the tip of the piping bag open. “I wore these knowing they’d get dirty. They’re my baking clothes. My boots already got all messed up…” 

“Oh,” he says. “You put on cashmere knowing you’ll get it dirty. Mommy and daddy paid a pretty penny for that, huh? And it’s your throwaway outfit?”

“Look. If you like it so much, I’ll let you have it when we’re done, yeah? Maybe you’ll make a pretty penny off selling it.” You ice a warm white line down the length of a wall. “Can you hurry? I’m already icing. I don’t want to be here all day.”

There’s  a few long, thrumming moments of quiet, where only the sound of your piping back crackling fills his home. Finishing a wall, you tear yourself away from your work to spare a glance his way.

Taehyun’s jaw is tight, a muscle flickering where he grits his jaw in the low light that washes over him. There’s a fire blazing in his eyes, and though he doesn’t turn them on you, the smoke rolling from them is enough to make your skin warm. You’d successfully gotten under his skin. Why stop here, when seeing that look on his face is so fun? He looks as sour as an apple; as spiced as cinnamon. “Wall?” you say, sharp and haughty as you offer your hand out to him in an impatient demand.

Snapping his head up, he hands you a wall with the heat of a thousand ovens in his face. You feel the scald he intends for you with it, and you revel in it.

You bark commands at him, watching his shoulders grow tense and his lips twitch with each. Crush the candy canes, you tell him. Melt the icing. Sprinkle these over that. Soon enough, you’re sitting back and watching him work more than anything.

He doesn’t say a word. You see them brimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them burst out all venomous like you know he wants to. It’s quite the show. 

“Would you at least help me hold this up?” he says, holding the walls of a house together with one hand. His hands are a mess of runny sugar and powdered sugar for snow, and yours are perfectly clean. You can at least help a little bit if you want to claim any part in the competition. 

You reach for the piping bag, fat with the sweet sweet icing, and straighten a wall up. You trace the seams with it, thick and like glue. With a bit too much pressure, the side of the bag bursts. White rivulets of slow icing run down your fingers and over the table. You curse, dropping it to the counter. That’s all of your icing, flopped down and deflating over the surface all sad-like. It’d been so much, that you thought it would last you each house and then some. Of course, you hadn’t brought extra.

Bringing your sticky fingers up to your mouth, you suckle the mess off. It’s so very sweet—warm and weeping, nutty and spiced with something like nutmeg. It’s Taehyun: the smell of it, the way it spreads over your tongue… You stick your tongue out to catch it where some drips down your forearm. “Mmm,” you say, sticky-armed. “Tastes good.” That’ll be good on the gingerbread houses; maybe the two of you do have a chance at winning. 

When you look up to Taehyun, he stands frozen in place, his hands still holding up a half-constructed gingerbread house. His eyes are different. It’s a look you don’t recognize—a look you’ve never seen before. Rather than deep and warm, his eyes are blackish and heavy. A swallow goes down his throat; a tense, barely contained thing.

 You frown, your lips still a sugary mess. “I didn’t mean to make a mess. Sorry. I’ll clean it up…”

Clearing his throat, Taehyun says, “Yeah…”

He watches you clean the counters, where the icing had pooled, and now the bag is empty, with the same intensity. You can feel it on your skin in a foreign, itching way. You swipe and scoop and work at the spill, and still, he watches. He does not speak. 

You survey the houses you’ve managed to finish. They’re pretty, and absolutely competition ready: looping swirls of icing like shingles on the roofs, peppermint chunks all red and white catching light where you’d sprinkled them into the frosting, gumdrops lining the paths true to Taehyun’s own home, and powdered sugar sifted over the entirety of it like snowfall. It’s all great, but there are only four.  “What are we supposed to do now?” you say, lips pouty. “That’s all the icing I brought. We literally can’t make any more.” You wipe at a smear on your cheek. How’d that get there? “I think I’m gonna have to come back tomorrow… Can you hold on to the houses for me?”

“Yeah—yeah, sure. Tomorrow,” he says, blinking something away. He straightens. “It’s a long walk. I think you should get going.”

You want to say something snarky or ask him why he wants you out of the house so fast, but it’s true. Night’s creeping over Strawberryland, and you have no icing, and tomorrow’s the last day before the bake-off. If the two of you don’t work harder tomorrow than you did today, then you won’t even make qualifications. You’ll lose before even starting.

You never lose. Not like this, and certainly not to the man standing before you. 

ꕀ

“C’mon. You can do better than that, can’t you?” Taehyun says, drooping icing from rooftops like icicles as you sprinkle crushed candies over the top. 

You grit your teeth. If he’d been snappy yesterday, he’s made it his mission to be your worst nightmare today. You think it’s his sort of revenge for ordering him around how you did. “What would you like, then?” you say. Maybe it’s feeding right into what he wants, but your life has lent you a short fuse. “You don’t even care about winning. Why does it matter? Let me do it how I want.”

He’s in another sweater. The sleeves are bunched up to the elbow just like yesterday, but you think he’s making a point with it this time. The shifting of his muscles is a bit too intense for piping icing. You’d made it through three more houses, wrangling your inner demons with each passing snide remark or nasty smile the whole time. It doesn’t help that he keeps his home terribly toasty, and you run cold down to the core. You melt and melt until all that is left of your temper is a puddle on the floor beneath you. Gone. 

“We’re partners, remember?” he says. He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. “I don’t do things half-assed, Frosty.” 

You’re sent reeling with the old nickname. It’d been sweet then, back when it was just the two of you against the world, but now it’s gone sour like milk. It even comes from his mouth soured. It’s something that you thought you’d left a million lifetimes ago, never to hear again. With Taehyun, though, it’s hard to pretend that you are no longer that. 

He will not let you forget that, at one point, the two of you were friends. An unlikely pair, especially looking at you now. You thought it was all nothing to you, but seeing him has kicked up dust. 

“You don’t?” you say, shooting him a quick glare from the side of your eye. “That’s funny.”

Strong brows shooting up, Taehyun quits mid-piping to look at you. “Funny? What’s funny about it to you?”

You can’t settle the obnoxious smile that curls at the edges of your mouth, mean and taunting and falsely sweet. “Oh, nothing.” You shake a sifter full of powder against your palm. It falls like true snow down over the house. 

“No, tell me,” he says, his eyes trained and heavy on your dismissive shrug. “Tell me what you think of me. I wanna hear it.”

Oh, this will be good.

“It’s just that,” you say, “you’re not really known for doing things the best way, you know? Living all the way out here, an ass when anybody tries to talk to you… Well, really, it’s just that nobody likes you. But, don’t worry! I’m sure there’s at least somebody that does.”

His face falls, the twinkle of delight at taunting you that he’d been holding in his eyes gone away. All that’s left is the peaking of something deeper and roiling from out of the cracks. You get the funny feeling that maybe you’ve taken it a step too far.

But, you never lose.

“Is that what it is?” he says. “I work for my shit. You? Everything you’ve ever had has been handed to you.” He measures his words delicately. Like a measuring cup full over the top, he cuts the excess words and coarseness off. He doesn’t say all that he thinks, but you see all he leaves unsaid toiling furiously behind his eyes. 

His eyes. They’re clear and, sharp as they are, they pin you. It’s a reflection of that look he gave you yesterday: deep and swirling and wild. It’s more than that, this time, though. It’s laced with anger and bursting at the seams of him. You’re not sure he’ll be able to hold back whatever it is that storms just beneath his skin, this time.

“It is,” you say, punctuation your words concisely. “It’s exactly why my parents said I shouldn’t hang out with you. They said that I’m above… all this.”

Oh, you’ve absolutely taken it too far now. You don’t really mean it. Sure, that’s what they told you, but you don’t really believe it. For some time, you did, but not now. It’s too late for sorries, though. Taehyun’s jaw goes tense.

For a long, awful moment, you just stand there and burn in his silence. It’s worse than any words he might spit. It’s hot—hot, hot, hot, and you turn liquid in it.

In a blink, nothing more, you collide against his countertop. Something clatters and thuds behind you. The gingerbread houses? That doesn’t matter right now—all that your dizzy mind can manage is his body crushing you and his fingers biting into the plush of your cheeks.

Where he had fractured, like true gingerbread, he snaps. You can see it in his eyes; even you know when you’ve pushed too far. Perhaps you ought to have seen this coming.

His knuckles curl white around the edge of the counter beside you, and his fingers dig deeper into your face. He’s oh-so-hot up against you. “I’m sick of your fucking mouth,” he snarls. His breath is hot as it fans over your face, too. “Someone needs to put you in your place. Where are your goddamn manners?”

Your heart thrums in your chest, and your pulse goes wild in your neck. You can’t form the words to answer him.

“Quiet now, huh?” he says. The husk in it makes the place between your thighs feel weird. You don’t know what’s wrong with you.

He shut you up real quick. You’ll give him that.

That funny feeling does flips, roaring to life when his fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms. “That’s your problem.” His eyes send a chill up and down your spine. “You’ve never been told no. You’ve always gotten what you wanted.” Peeling down all the layers, he tugs your knitted stockings and your little fur skirt, and your sweet frosty panties, too. They bunch at your feet. Between your thighs, right where those foreign, throbbing waves reign, cool air laps at a wetness there. The hair all over your body rises. You’ve never felt anything like it. “Not with me. I'll set you straight. I don’t put up with spoiled brats.”

“I’m not a brat,” you say. “You’re just an ass.” They’re the first words that come to you. Damn your temper.

With the same hand he’d been holding your face in place with, he curls his fingers right into your scalp and yanks hard, baring your neck to him. You lose a strained squeak, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sting. If your heart had been racing before, it runs wild, now. You strain your eyes to look at him and his curled lips. Painted with a sneer, he says, “Watch your mouth.”

A swallow goes down your throat hard. It’s all unfamiliar: the aching between your thighs, the burning in your blood, and the dazing of your thoughts. “Taehyun, I… I feel weird. It feels weird.”

Something knowing passes over him. “Yeah?” he says. “Show me where. I can help.”

Show him? You hesitate, searching his eyes for an ounce of joke or aversion. You find none, and that pounding is syrupy-sweet, and he says he can help. That’s all you want; all you need. Taking a trembling hand, you bring it down your body, running the palm down the planes of your belly and resting it just over the spot where the lower bit gives way to the apex of your thighs. Going any further—the thought tightens your throat and pinkens your cheeks the color of strawberry frosting. “There. It feels weird there.”

Taehyun smiles a snappy, spiced smile. He likes that. “Want me to make it feel better?”

Your thoughts feel replaced by something powdery and weightless. You give him a dumb nod.

“Say please.”

Something bratty crawls up your throat, but you want help, and he’s the one who will give it to you. He’d meant that: teaching you a lesson. Melted around the edges already, you say, “Please, help make it feel better.” Your voice wavers.

“There we go. That’s how good girls talk. That’s how you ask to get what you want.” He nudges your thighs apart with a knee and slots it between them, pressed right up against that coolness. Right up against that need. “Grind down on it.”

Neck aching at the angle, you say, “Grind?”

He brushes his clothed thigh right up against you. The friction is delicious—sweet and melty and just what you need. It shoots yellow sparks throughout you.

It feels so good. Your mouth waters in anticipation.

“Grind,” he says. It’s harder, this time. Not a sweet suggestion.

You bring yourself back down on it, gasping at the contact, and you do. You grind, tummy tightening at every brush of the fabric hard and delicious. Your chest constricts, one hand flying up to dig your fingers into his shoulder and the other fighting the hand he has still in your hair. It aches and hurts, and so does the friction as you grow more gaspy and frantic. 

It feels so, so good. You want more—you want him to touch you there and everywhere else. He smells just right all over you, nutty and musky like a gingerbread twist. “Taeh—hyun,” you mewl. It burns, but something slick eases the burn a little bit. Just enough for you to enjoy that burn.

“That’s it,” he coos. It’s not a sweet coo; it’s the type of sound one might make when you play right into their mean game. It’s mean. “Make yourself a mess on my thigh. I don’t even have to touch you. What would mommy and daddy think of you now, huh? What would they think if they saw their precious princess fucking herself on my thigh?”

No. That would be the end of you. You whine, thighs twitching. Something twists in your center, scary and foreboding, and still you chase it. None of your thoughts are solid enough to stop. Each time he flexes a muscled thigh or presses it harder into you, you shudder and curl your fingers into his shirt harder. 

“Don’t like that, huh?” he laughs. “Then you haven’t learned your lesson. You’re no better than me; I mean, look at you.”

You want to cry when he pins your hips back to the counter, stilling your wild bucking. Squeezing your eyes shut, you claw and reach for that wave, even as it recedes from you. “Why?” you say, voice thin. It’d been so yummy—the sweetness still rests on your tongue. Your heart thumps hard, longing for it.

“I said, look at yourself,” he growls, taking his hold on your hair to crank your head down.

Right where you’d been on his thigh, there’s a sticky, marshmallowy mess. Your mess. 

Taehyun releasing his grip on your hair is almost a relief, but he doesn’t even give you time to relish it. The walls of his house blur around you. All that you register in between the motions is his shoulder in your belly and your limbs dangling from you. You dig your hands into his back to balance yourself, but he’s got you.

He has you slung over his shoulder. He’s carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. That place between your thighs flutters anew. In all your life, you never worried too much about the plushness of your belly or your thighs. It is who you are; all mallow and soft around the edges and starkly sweet. But you did get nervous when somebody tried picking you up. Usually, you protest and giggle it off. Watching somebody strain to pick you up when they lift other girls like sacks of flour is just something that makes you feel a little strange.

But, Taehyun does not strain. He doesn’t huff; he carries you right down the hallway and into his room, and he even manhandles you down onto the bed with a bounce without so much as a sound. He is a solid pillar beneath you, and then he is a solid, muscled chest above you. With strong fingers, he pins your hands to the mattress above you. With the other, he leads your shirt up.

He’s so warm against your cold skin. His breath like waves from the oven over your mouth, he says, “You think you’re so much better than me because you have all this?” Curling his fingers around a necklace circling your throat, he tears it off with a clattering of a few snow-drop beads.

 You gasp, glaring right into his eyes. “What the hell?” you hiss, arching your chest to wiggle beneath him. Your necklace. Who does he think he is, breaking your stuff? That was one of your favorite necklaces, and now it lies all over his floor. Still, your center pounds and longs for the return of his touch. Everything about him just calls for more from you. You don’t know how you went so long without him, or how you made yourself forget just how drawn you are to his magnetism. Maybe he is just what your parents turn their nose up at, and you too, but that does not make him any less a powerful personality. 

He knows exactly who he is and what he wants, as solid as the gingerbread cookie. And you, plush and impressionable as whipped marshmallows, take to him just right. It’s something you once knew, but the sneered words of adults obscured that memory.

“Don’t whine,” he says. “I want to see your pretty neck without all that shit. That’s your problem: you’re spoiled.” He reaches down to mess with his pants.

His length springs free. Cheeks flushing, you take it in. You can’t look away, even as embarrassment crawls spindly legs over your skin at the interest you take in the sight. You’ve never seen anything like it—long and hot and weeping something thick and white from the slit at the pinkish tip. A pearl of it dribbles down, landing on your belly in a string where he holds it.

Taehyun collects that wetness and then urges more from the tip with a few drags down the length of it. Wrapping his fingers around it, he begins to slowly work his fist up and down it. It’s nothing short of impossible to tear your sights off it—it’s another thing that inexplicably fans the flames of something roaring in your center. “Do you want to touch it?” he says, watching your tongue dart out to wet your lips. 

The sight of him growing restless over his pumping fist is enough to get you nodding. 

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and under his breath. He lets his hand off it. “Go ahead. Touch it. I won’t tell anybody you did.”

When he frees your pinned wrists, you reach out a slow hand. You curl your fingers around it the way he had. Your fingers don’t even touch around jt. The weight and warmth of him in your palm makes your blood tingle. Looking up, you search for guidance in those intelligent, swirling eyes. His bangs hang over his eyes as he watches.

Placing his hand over yours, he drags it up and down his rigid length the way he had been doing a few beats ago. “Like that,” he says. “Just like that.”

You pump your closed fist up and down him, encouraged to squeeze harder and flick your wrist faster with each tight breath he lets slip. The skin of your palm gets stickier and stickier, the slick sounds sending your ears and core burning just the same. You like that it makes him feel good—that he’s making those noises just for you. 

He twitches under your fingers. “Feels just like I thought your pretty hands would…” he says, stomach tight. “See—what happens when you give up that bratty fucking act? Shit… harder—give it to me harder, Frosty…” Shivering at the name, you oblige him. You reach your thumb up and collect more of that beaded liquid from the slit, and you work your arm harder. Faster. Your forearm begins to burn, but you don’t let it slow you. All you want is more of this; more of him. Finally, he lets sounds out from his chest freely. He grunts and hisses through his teeth, letting his head fall back. “Holy shit. I’m gonna—gonna ice your face, okay?” he says. “You said you liked the taste, huh? Wanna taste it again? Give me your tongue…”

Whatever that means, you push yourself up and situate your face in front of his length, your tongue out. Taehyun’s sounds tighten, and his hips begin to stutter and chase your hand. He picks his head back up to look down at you half-lidded—to watch. With only a few last runs of your palm down his length, skin so slick that your hand just slips and slides up him, he growls through gritted teeth. The weight of him in your working hand twitches once more, and from that weeping tip he shoots dancing ribbons of white. It lands on your tongue hot and sweet, melting out all spiced and snappy.

Snappy like gingerbread. Like gingerbread icing. Swallowing it down, you meet his gaze. He pants, chest rising and falling, but there’s something clear and knowing in his heavy eyes when you do. You think you know now, why he’d been so dazed as you made a show of licking that same sticky icing off your hands and said how good it tasted. 

When you release him from your palm, it glistens with his sweet essence. He softens in front of your eyes just the littlest bit.

Eyes just as hungry and still catching his breath, Taehyun says, “Open your mouth. I wanna see your tongue.”

Belly doing wicked twists, you do. You stick your tongue out for him, still laden with the headiness of his taste. He does taste good. 

“Swallowed it all down?” he says, eating the sight of you with your mouth dropped open up. “You really are so nasty. They all think you’re so sweet—you think you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He pushes you back down to the bed with a palm. “Well, not me. I know that you’re just as filthy as you are spoiled. Somebody had to deal with you.”

Like always, snarky words swirl in your mouth. All it would take is letting them fall off your tongue. But you don’t—not with the feeling between your thighs, and not with the way your blood, frost turned to snowmelt, begs for him to fix it. Not when you know that all it will get you is more of Taehyun’s wrath. 

It’s not like what he says is true, or anything. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

“Taehyun, please. I need it…” He takes a marshmallow thigh of yours, pressing it up so that it melds with your belly. Cool air reminds you once more of that strange wetness between them.

Dark, blown eyes catching the sight of it, his lips quirk into a scoff. “Need what?” he says, reaching a hand down. At the contact of his fingers, just as they had against his thigh, your hips jolt and an explosion like the breaking of sugar glass shoots down the muscles of your thighs. He scoops that stickiness up from its source, bringing the soft cream up to his mouth. Tongue darting out, he has a taste of you just as you had tasted him. “Shit—you taste good too, frosty. You’re so sweet, how’d you turn out like this? That’s okay. I’ll deal with you, and then you’ll be just as sweet as you taste.” That fat tip of him presses flush to the source of all your want. “I’ll straighten you out.”

You don’t know what that means, and you are absolutely sure that you don’t deserve it, but any sass is staunched with the utter sweetness of the stretch in your center. Taehyun presses his hips up into you, slowly and internalizing the dropping open of your mouth, the pinching of your brows into a worrying line, and the press of your palms to his broad chest. He takes it and metabolizes it down like cream cake or the plumpest fruits, and he gives you more. More, all the way up until there is no length of him left to give, and nowhere else for him to go.

You feel so, so full. No amount of twinkling jewels or new skirts hold a candle to this. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know why Taehyun knows, but whatever. Who cares? Breathing out a shudder, you squirm beneath him to search for that dazzling feeling he’d made you feel earlier.

“Stay still,” he barks, steadying himself beside your head with a sturdy, powerful arm. When had he lost his sweater? You don’t know. You might drool over the definition and warm skin there if he didn’t pull the length of him out until just the tip of him threatens to pop out, and then drive right back in before you could. A gaspy breath falls from your mouth, devolving into mewls and whimpers when he does the same over and over and over again, quick with snapping hips and the smacking of his skin against the soft skin of your bottom. Your thigh quivers in his hold, his fingers digging into the fluff of your thigh as he holds you into it. 

Each and every time he slides up against something inside you that makes you feel different. Different from what you felt when you were on his thigh, and different from anything else you’ve felt in the entirety of your life. It’s deeper, right at the very bottom of your belly, sending your veins lazy and your hips twitchy. You want to chase it as much as you want to hide from its power, so all you do is stay in a hazy limbo of sharp gasps and long, drawn out mewls for more.

“No,” he says, his face right in yours. The smell of him, manly and so very sweet like oven-warmed gingerbread, settles over your bones and wiggles its way through your thoughts. It does something to your melted mind, planting a need to cling to him right in the center. Your hands perch all over him: the hair at the back of his head, his working waist, his biceps that flex and strain with his effort, and finally around him so that you can push your cheek to his chest and feel his heart racing there. “You’ll take exactly what I give, and thank me for it. You don’t get to ask for more; not with your mouth.”

“Why?” you say, whining. “I want it—so bad. Please? I’ll be so… so good…” Your voice bounces with each collision of your bodies, and your toes flex and curl at the twisting in your core. Nonetheless, you want more. Whatever this is—this syrupy, pure goodness—Taehyun has shown you something that you will never be whole without again. He has bloomed a flower right in the chest of you, something hungry that will want and want this, and you fear that he will be the only one able to satiate it. 

The thought of the smile he’ll wear, should you come crawling back to his doorstep just for this… 

Taehyun stops, pushing off you with a curled lip. “What will it take to get you to fucking listen?” he says. He pulls himself from you, leaving you to whine and long for that feeling once more. You want to complain and pull him back over you, but with the fire churning in his dark gaze and the sight of his length, covered in that same white, whipped stuff you’d left all over his thigh. 

You’d made a sticky, frosty, frothed mess all over him once again. Really, what would people think of you now? Your mom? Your dad? 

Manhandling you again, he flips you onto your hands and knees and shoves your face into the bed. Any yelp or gasp that tears from your chest is muffled into the sheets. Taking the swell of your hips, his fingers like bites against the powdery, soft skin there, his voice comes from behind you. “Won’t you just listen to me? If you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna have to start learning how to hear no.” Curling your hair up and pulling it like a handle, he snaps your head back into another stinging, awful tug. It turns the arch of your back into something that you can imagine is a sight to be seen. If the burning where you feel his eyes raking down the curve of it has something to speak of it, that is. You squeeze your eyes shut as if that’ll help you any. “You don’t get everything you want. That’s not how this works.”

You don’t say anything. You have nothing good or sweet left to say.

“Say thank you, and I’ll give it to you good, okay?” he says, running a flattened hand down your spine. “That’s all I want to hear. Show me you can be good.”

The last thing you want to do is to thank him. That would mean admitting that you’ve lost, and that ruffles your preening feathers. But you want that goodness back, you want his hips snapping into you and that tight knot back in your belly. You’d do anything for it; even forget your ego.

Your mind is gone, anyway. Whatever your rational self would do, it doesn’t matter. There’s one thing that you want right now, and getting it is so easy. “Thank you, Taehyun. Thank you so much… I’m sorry I’ve been a brat, and I’m sorry about what I said to you. Please, just… help me. Please, I need you so bad.”

You? Sorry? It’s absurd, and yet, you entirely mean it. Maybe it’s your lazy brain talking, or maybe he really has won.

“See? So sweet when you act right,” he says. “Let me show you what happens when you do.”

You could cry real tears when he sets that same pace, his hands bracing on your hips to pull you deeper into each thrust and the front of your body bouncing against the sheets with each. Your cries grow hoarse and beyond needy, and your insides twist and turn even more dangerously.

You are on the brink of something divine. Something that will melt down so well, good on the tongue and as smooth as chocolate, but as sharp as the snapping of gingerbread.

And, snap, he has.

“Yes!” you cry, straining your shoulders as you reach behind you and curl your fingers around the place where he meets your skin. “S..So good! Right there—thank you, Taehyun!”

He doubles down on you. His length hits a spongy spot in your core, pounding up against the walls there and turning your insides against you. It’s almost too good. “There we go,” he says, voice shaking with a growl. The delivery of his thrusts grows sloppy. You think he feels just as good as you do. “That’s what—” Falling over you, he supports himself with each strong arm dug into the mattress beside your head, his solid front melded to your soft back. “That’s what I like to hear. Here you go—fuck, I’m gonna give you what good girls get, okay?”

You hope it’s more of that melty icing he shot from his length earlier. The knot in your belly tightens, just on the brink of a glittery, bright explosion. “Mhm!” you say, your voice cracking. You want it—you want it so bad. The intensity of it, turning over in your veins and rendering your thighs jelly, sings in your ears. It’s a frightening greatness, but you rage against the urge to drop your hips into the mattress and run from it. You need to finally taste what you’ve been chasing. “Taehyun! Right there—please, don’t stop!”

You were demanding more from him again, but Taehyun didn’t stop this time. Not when his growls and whines against your shoulder tell you enough about how he’s feeling. He tongues and nips at your shoulders, the only sounds echoing off the walls of his room, the hollow smack of his hips against your bottom, and the only smell of the sweet mingling of his gingerbread sharpness against your heady marshmallow. It’s good enough to eat.

Crying out with a frantic whine, the feeling deep in your belly changes once more, and you’re writhing and squirming against him. Your hips buck and chase and run, wild and just as explosively as the tightness shooting down your thighs and up through your lower back.

Everywhere. You feel it everywhere. It’s in the continued bouncing of your body, in each nudge of his tip to a sweet, spongecake spot deep inside you, in his breathless pants into your skin, and in the curling of his fingers into your hair when he releases a hip to do so, and in your pleads when he chases his own delicious release. Your throat tightens, and suddenly the sheets are all too warm around you, and you realize with blistering intensity that another one of those knots builds up in your belly. It’s quicker, short, and bright. You’ve barely even made it through the last, but still, it comes.

“Holy shit,” he growls, hips stuttering and then stilling. He reaches a hand down between your thighs and finds a very sweet button. The breath in your throat catches, and in nothing more than a blink of an eye, you crash again, and then your bodies are two twitching, elated things. He presses himself impossibly deeper into you before shooting that same hotness, sweet ropes of sugary icing right into you, and your fluttering insides hold him tight and eat it up. Your heart pounds in your chest, running amok in your ears and your neck, and you try to catch running breaths to no avail.

Occasionally grinding up into you, though there is hardly any space between your joined bodies to do so, Taehyun shoots more lazy spurts for a few long moments. His breaths slow against your skin, and yours do in your chest. Slowly, you recover as two entangled bodies, all clammy and melted like left in the oven for a bit too long.

Pressing hot, wet kisses to the back of your neck, and then down your spine when he pushes off you and pulls himself out, his tongue darting out against your skin for some, he says, “Taste so good… So sweet, even on your skin…” He brushes the wild tangles of hair from your face and adds, “I wonder if you’ve gone all sweet inside, too? You look like it…” The mess of you, your thick creaminess staining your thighs and his runny load pooling from your hole, is all over. It even makes the sheets beneath you dirty with dribbles of his release as it drips. “I told you I’d get you sweet.”

If that sluggish, sugary thing moving through your veins is sweetness taking over you from the inside, perhaps you have gone sweet. Or, perhaps you now have every reason to become his worst nightmare—just if it gets you this.

You’ll play sweet for now. The softer kisses he seasons your skin with are no less enthralling than the delightful goodness still ebbing away between your thighs. You think that, for the first time, you have lost. 

And, to your very own dismay, it tastes so very sweet. 

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

✎୭ ashlynn's note BRAT TAMER TAEHUN, amirite?

Beomgyu who didn’t think twice when his dad proposed the question to him. He was not one to be bothered by love or finding the right one and out of the options he had you seemed to be the best choice. Your family’s knew each other and he has known you since you were babies and all through high school. You guys weren’t exactly friends but you were always there for all the major events in his life.

You, who were taken by surprise at the news, felt even more puzzled out when you heard that Beomgyu had agreed to marry you. He could have any girl. Handsome and charismatic you wonder why he agreed to marry you. Sure, it made sense in a business sense. With you marrying Beomgyu it’d further cement the relationship between your families and really boost your dads businesses. Maybe Beomgyu had his own reasons like you did.

The wedding is a quiet affair, mostly consisting of family friends and couple of your own. The day passes by in a daze and before you even realise it you’re standing in front of Beomgyu.

He looked dashing in his suit. Beomgyu gives you a small smile before giving his vows. You repeat your vows and he leanes down to give a small peck on your lips.

Your families cheer for you and you watch as your mom cries, tears of your own falling down from your cheeks. Beomgyu quietly hands you his handkerchief and you wipe them away, thanking him.

Something in Beomgyu’s chest hardens at the sight of your tears. The marriage had been nothing but one of convenience for him and he wonders whether that was unfair to you. He didn’t really know you all that well. You were quiet and kept to yourself a lot. But when you were really small you would read out stories to him while he dozed off next to you.

Now, looking at you standing next to him as his wife Beomgyu slowly realises how much time has actually flown by. Feeling his eyes own you, you turn around. Beomgyu is staring at you with an unreadable expression. You give him a quick smile which seems to break him out of his daze. He smiles back at you.

-.-

It’s been a week of your marriage. You are slowly adjusting to his house trying to grow familiar with your new environment. Beomgyu leaves early for work and comes home late at night. You on the other hand do your job at the school. The new academic year has just begun and you were trying not to drown in your hectic schedule.

“Hey, mind if I use your hair dryer? Mine seems to be broken” Beomgyu’s question brings you back to reality.

“Huh- yea- no, go ahead” you tell him. You were folding your laundry. You and Beomgyu shared a room, but that was it. You didn’t know when he came to bed or when he rose. The slightly rumpled sheets the only evidence that he had spend the night with you.

It was rare for you to be together at the same time. Being the weekend, it was your off day and you usually spend it at home passing your time doing one of your many hobbies. Beomgyu usually stayed in the study and you figure that’s where he is probably headed after his shower.

Packing up your stuff in to your closet, you head to the kitchen. The dough you had gotten ready for the cookies would’ve probably cooled by now. Opening up your refrigerator, you take out the dough when you hear footsteps. You look around to see Beomgyu making his way towards you.

“Hungry” he answers to your questioning look and you nod your head.

“Would you like some pancakes ?” You ask him, setting down the dough.

“Uh- that’s cookie dough, sweetheart” he tells you with a smile leaning against the counter.

“Duh- I know, I made it” you tell him rolling your eyes. “I have some batter left, but if you’re going to be a smartass about it, then I guess no” you tell him going back to your business.

“Nooo” Beomgyu drawls out and you raise an eyebrow at him “Please I’d love to have some pancakes, if it’s not a bother for you” he adds.

You try to hide your smile, picking up the batter. You look around and Beomgyu’s still watching you. “Sit”

“Yes Ma’am” he sighs before sitting down on the countertop.

Beomgyu watches you as you work around the kitchen. It’s still new to have you around his house, but he likes it. He likes the little decorations you’ve put up on your bedside table. He likes the soft sound of your breathing when he lies down to sleep. He just wishes he had more time to spend with you. But business has been tough as of late. The new merger was taking up almost all of his time. He feels bad about leaving you alone immediately after your marriage but it is what it is.

“There you go, banana or strawberry? Wait- don’t answer that” you tell him cutting up strawberries for him.

“You remember” Beomgyu says softly and you look up at him.

“Ofcourse, can’t remember the number of times I’ve had to drink banana milk because of you and your obsession with strawberries” you tell him disdainfully.

“Yah- you liked bananas so was it really a sacrifice?” Beomgyu’s huffs at you before taking a bite of his pancake.

“How is it?” You ask him leaning down on your elbows.

“Delicious” he answers with his mouth full and you smile at him before picking up a strawberry from his plate.

“What do you plan on doing today?” Beomgyu asks you.

“Rotting on the couch with my new book” you tell him happily and he rolls his eyes which you ignore.

“What about you- lemme guess, hmm working!” You say tilting your head to the left and Beomgyu considers you for a moment.

“It’s called being productive, sweetheart” he tells you sweetly.

“Reading is productive and I’m not your sweetheart” you tell him mocking his tone.

“You’re literally my wife” he deadpans, “I’m legally obliged to call you sweetheart”

“Okay Honey” you tell him before heading off to the sofa and plopping down picking up your book.

Beomgyu is about to say something when his phone rings. He sighs before he answers. Work calls.

-.-

Blinking away from the brightness of the screen Beomgyu takes note of the time. It’s nearly four in the evening.

He wonders if you have had lunch, he’s been completely focused on his work that he forgot about his surroundings, about you. Guilt grips him again as he makes his way downstairs.

You’re passed out on the couch, the book resting on your chest. He wonders how long you’ve been asleep. Gently pushing away a strand of hair, he is about to wake you up when a message pops up on your phone

Sunghyun 🤍- Cant wait to see you tomorrow!!

Beomgyu scoffs. Who was this man ? Does he know you’re married? Why was he texting you ? WHY DO YOU HAVE A HEART SHAPED EMOJI NEXT TO HIS NAME???

“You know, it’s not nice to snoop through someone else’s stuff” you grumble quietly and Beomgyu nearly jumps.

“Fuck” he says clutching his chest. “I was not snooping, i was just waking you up when the notification popped up” he adds on quickly.

“Uh-huh” you tell him holding out your hand for your phone. Beomgyu gives it to you before sitting down next to you on the couch.

You open your notifications. A couple are from your work friends and one from your mom.

You type out quick replies, before putting your phone back down and turning around to face beomgyu.

“Who’s Sunghyun?” Beomgyu asks you looking down at his nails.

“Huh?” You ask, still disoriented from your nap.

“Sunghyun. Who is he?” Beomgyu asks again impatiently. He feels angry at this Sunghyun. “Does he not know you’re married?”

You take a look at Beomgyu before bursting into laughter.

“What.” Beomgyu asks you surprised at your reaction.

You’re still giggling when you answer him, “Sunghyun’s me friend” you tell him.

“And why is that funny? Does he not know boundaries?” Beomgyu huffs out.

“No silly, Sunghyuns a girl. And I’m unfortunately not into girls, neither is she I believe” you tell him grinning.

Beomgyu wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He clutched the bridge of his nose as if to ward off the reddening of his cheeks.

“Bet, you’re reallllyyy embarrassed right now” you tell him in a playful tone trying to see his face as Beomgyu hides it behind his hands.

“Stopp, I was just asking” he whines out.

“Yeah, yeah” you say smiling. Getting up you head to the kitchen to grab water.

“Does Sunghyun not know you’re married??” You do your best imitation of Beomgyu as you sit back on the couch. Beomgyu looks at you with narrowed eyes.

“Alright I’ll stop” you tell him. “What do you wanna eat ?” You ask him.

“Right now?” Beomgyu asks you wide eyes.

“Yeah- you haven’t had lunch yet, have you?” You ask him.

“No.” Beomgyu replies.

“So, let’s eat something. What do you want to have?” You ask him.

“You haven’t had lunch?” He asks you incredulously. His phone starts ringing again and Beomgyu mutes it.

“No, I was waiting for you, guess I fell asleep then” you answer him, moving around your kitchen.

“You don’t have to wait up for me” he tells you sharply and you look at him.

“I know.” You tell him curtly. Anger flares up inside you.

“No, what I meant was- you don’t have to wait like that for me, I eat whenever I get the time-“ Beomgyu tells you in a softer tone.

“I got it” you tell him. “Well, I’m making pasta, would you like to have some?”

“No- I mean- I’d love to- but I have a meeting to attend to right now” Beomgyu tells you getting up. He doesn’t understand why he gets muddled up with his words when he’s next to you.

“You haven’t had anything since those pancakes… you need to eat” you tell him, irritatedly.

“Work calls” he answers you curtly.

“On a weekend? You don’t see me answering mine. You need to set boundaries” you tell him. Beomgyu is going through his phone, not paying attention to you.

“Well, my job demands this. And anyways how hard is it being a teacher” The words are out of his mouth before he thinks through them. He looks up at you and you’re standing there staring at him in disbelief.

An awkward silence settles over the both of you. Beomgyu feels defensive and you feel hurt beyond words.

“Right. Um- guess I’m making dinner for one then. Why don’t you go ahead with your tough job?” You ask him turning away. You hate yourself for being sensitive like this.

“Y/N- that’s not-“ Beomgyu starts and his phone rings again.

“Work calls” you tell him, pointing at his phone before walking into your bedroom and shutting the door.

Left alone, in the hall, Beomgyu sighs in defeat as his phone starts ringing again.

-.-

Beomgyu is sitting on his side of the bed, looking through his phone with his earphones in when you walk in. You barely give him a glance as you tie your hair into its usual bedtime braid.

Beomgyu watches you out of the corner of his eyes. He feels restless and uneasy at the thought of your conversation earlier. He wants to say sorry and fix things with you but he doesn’t know where to start.

You fluff up your pillows before lying down on your side of the bed, completely ignoring Beomgyu’s presence beside you. What he said to you was unacceptable and you still feel angry at the thought of it.

Scrolling through your phone, you respond to texts, giggling at a few from your friends. Beomgyu clears his throat but you turn away from him. You know it’s childish but you can’t help it.

Beomgyu sighs once again before removing his headphones. He looks over at your back. He wants to reach out but he just doesn’t know how.

You finally turn around and lie on your back. You’re smiling at something on your phone and texting back rapidly

Beomgyu feels a spike of jealousy.

“Don’t you have to wake up early tomorrow?” He asks you and you ignore him, which successfully makes him even more irritated.

Beomgyu snatches your phone out of your hand suddenly,

“Hey-“

“I asked you a question” he tells you looking at you. You refuse to look back at him, trying to get your phone back, which he holds high up above you.

You try to grab hold of his arm but he is not even budging and you lie back down in frustration. Beomgyu tries to hide his growing smirk.

“I don’t know Beomgyu- my job is anyways not that important so does it really matter?” You huff out. Staring at the ceiling, still refusing to look into your eyes.

Beomgyu leans over you, trying to catch your eyes and you turn away from him, but he grabs your chin, making you look at him.

“You’re so childish” he tells you. How dare he?

You push his hand away, getting up. You’re about to get off from the bed when Beomgyu grabs hold of your waist, pulling you back in.

“Let me go-“

“No- I don’t care how angry you’re at me, we sleep in the same bed” he tells you trying to hold you down.

“Why” you ask him struggling to free yourself.

“Because it’s on our vows. In sickness and in health…” he starts

“Yes not in anger and in spite” you finally stop struggling, lying still. Stupid strong man.

“Give me back my phone” you tell him.

“Here you go” he says handing it over to you. “Who are you texting at this hour? Doesn’t Sunghyun sleep?” He asks you, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Who says I’m texting Sunghyun?” You tell him, adjusting the pillows around you. Beomgyu leans over you trying to read your texts and you push him away.

“Get your nosey ass away from me” you say.

“Who are you texting? Does he know you’re my wife?” He starts again.

“Oh my god- why don’t I get that tattoed on my head “Married to Choi Beomgyu” maybe that’d keep away everyone” you tell him tiredly, switching off your phone.

“Would make you infinitely more attractive” Beomgyu tells you lying back down.

You pretend to gag, setting up a pillow between you.

“What’s this for?” Beomgyu asks.

“I don’t want you crossing over to my part” you tell him, pulling the blanket over yourself.

“So childish” he mutters before turning off the bedside lamp.

-.-

Waking up you know something’s immediately wrong. Your body feels sore and a slight movement is enough to set you into a world of pain. You cannot be having a fever right now.

You’re about to get up when you notice a pair of hands and legs thrown over your body. Beomgyu has you in his grasp. Clearly a pillow fortress is not enough to keep this man away. Turning around in his hold, you take note of his sleeping form. He looks angel like when he’s asleep.

Slowly extricating yourself from his arms you get up and your world shifts.

“Whoa-“ you mutter grasping into the bed frame. Your ears ring and black clouds the edges of your vision.

You force yourself to walk upto the bathroom but your body gives up midway.

-.-

A thousand needles pin you. Or atleast that’s how it feels. Your entire body is aching when you wake up. You feel disoriented for a moment looking at the white ceiling.

You jump up in shock when someone pushes you back down.

“Your ass is not getting out of that bed unless I tell you” Beomgyu tells you roughly.

“What-“ you start but it comes out more as a croak. You take note of his appearance. He looks a little rough. There is stubble on his jaw and he looks like he hasn’t slept at all.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me if you were sick” Beomgyu starts again. He is sitting by your side. The curtains are closed around your bed.

“It’s not that serious” you tell him carelessly, noting the flowers on the curtains. Beomgyu follows your eyes.

“I requested for a private room but only the ward was available” he tells you softly and your eyes snap back to him.

“Huh? No, I-“ you start. He was getting this wrong. “I don’t like hospitals” you tell him in a small voice.

“Nobody does” he answers.

“No I know- I just, can we go home?” You ask him voice wobbly and you hate yourself for it. Beomgyu looks at you in concern.

“We’ll go soon, waiting for the doc you know?” He tells you arranging the blankets around you. You take note of how you’re wearing his shirt. Did you vomit on yourself? What happened? You feel too embarrassed to ask.

“Did you miss work because of me?” You ask him looking at him with watery eyes.

“No, no it doesn’t matter right now, please rest Y/N” he tells you pushing you down again.

You cover your eyes with your arm not wanting for him to see you in such a vulnerable position. You don’t miss the way he sighs.

-.-

It’s nearly evening when your doctor visits you, going over a few medications and advising you to rest for the next couple of days he finally gives you the green signal to go home.

Beomgyu’s arm rests around your waist, supporting you into the car. You barely remember the ride back home, crashing into your bed the moment you reach home.

When you wake up, Beomgyu is still beside you. He is sleeping, neck bent at an odd angle and you gently shake him awake.

“What- are you okay? Do you need anything” he asks you bleary eyed and jumping up.

“No-no. Calm down. I’m alright” you tell him and he settles back down. He looks extra bear like in his sleepy state and your heart swells a little.

“Go sleep. I’m alright now and you need to be in Office tomorrow” you tell him.

“Yeah” he tells you smiling sheepishly, starting to climb into your bed.

“No- not here. You shouldn’t be sleeping next to me” you tell him immediately, pushing him away.

“What do you mean??” He asks you confused still hovering over the bed.

“No you’ll catch my fever” you tell him shaking your head.

Beomgyu stares at you for a moment before climbing back into the bed. “If that’s the case, I’d have probably caught it by now” he tells you lying down and pushing you back into the bed.

You get up again, “I don’t want you to get sick on my account” you tell him, stubborn.

“God, just lie down Y/N, I’m more strong than you think” he tells you pulling you down next to him.

You cross your arms over your chest, annoyed. Beomgyu smiles to himself at the sight, before pulling you closer to him.

You look over at him and he is looking at you so softly that you feel shy.

“G’night Sweetheart” he murmurs before falling asleep.

“Goodnight”

-.-

It’s been three days. Three days since you last went to School. Beomgyu is driving you up the wall.

“I’m FINE” you nearly scream when he rushes over to help you as you get up from the couch that evening.

“Alright, alright” he tells you holding his hands up in surrender.

“I will be going to school tomorrow- NO- I’m not asking your permission- I will be going to school tomorrow” you almost stomp your foot in anger but hold yourself back.

“The doctor told you-“ Beomgyu starts and you cut him off immediately-

“To rest for a couple of days. It’s been three. THREE. I have so much of work to catch up on” you huff out. “Ofcourse my job is not a real job in your eyes” Beomgyu winces at that, “but I need to be there tomorrow”

“Okay. Okay. But I’ll drop you and pick you up” Beomgyu tells you. He can already see the arguments forming on your lips. “For my sake Y/N, do it for my sake” he nearly pleades and you take a moment before nodding your agreement.

Atleast you get to go back to work.

“Alright, now, will my precious little wife do me the honour of having her dinner?” He asks you.

“Depends on what my precious little husband has cooked for dinner. If it’s another bowl of oatmeal, you’ll be featured on tomorrow’s headlines” you tell him sweetly.

“Why is my oatmeal that good?” He asks you wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and you hold back your laughter.

“Wife kills husband in an interesting turn of events, wherein he served her oatmeal three times a day for three days” you do your best news anchor voice.

“Ha- ha. Here comes the airplane, open your mouth wooo” Beomgyu answers back, settling down next to you and bringing a spoonful of, surprise, oatmeal.

-.-

“Are you sure about this” Beomgyu asks, yet again, sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Yesssssssss” you drawl out applying your lip gloss. You were wearing your normal white skirt and blue shirt, tying up your hair in a low bun. You glance at Beomgyu through the mirror. He sits ready for work, waiting patiently for you.

“Hmm, which perfume should I wear for today” you ask more to your self that anyone else.

“The one that smells like caramel” Beomgyu immediately answers. You look over at him with an eyebrow raised and he shrugs his shoulders.

“Alright then, I’m done” you tell him. “How do I look ?” You ask him giving him a twirl as he gets up from the bed.

“Hideous” he tells you walking to the door, trying to calm his rising heart rate.

-.-

“Okay, leave. Now.” You tell him tugging off the seatbelt.

“Good day to you too” he mocks.

“Aw, have a nice day my lovely pumpkin” you coo pinching his cheeks before jumping off of your seat and waving him goodbye.

Beomgyu waves back his hand coming to rest on his cheek. He watches you walk towards the school. Your coat bellowing around you in the wind. He wonders if he should’ve forced you to wear the scarf too.

Looking over, Beomgyu notices a kid running as if to catch upto you. The little boy reaches you and you immediately pat his head, giving him a lovely smile. The boy holds up his hand to you, and Beomgyu watches as you smile down widely at the boy before taking the child’s hands in your own.

Without knowing it himself, Beomgyu is smiling too, watching you.

-.-

A few days pass in the same manner. You’ve grown so used to Beomgyu’s presence that it feels weird to go to work without him.

Making him laugh was your favourite thing. To watch his whisker dimples on full display and his eyes form crescent moons, you feel warmth spread through you. Sometimes it scares you. You were bordering on falling for him that it terrified you. You knew this marriage was one of convenience and Beomgyu would never feel the same way but your heart continued to hope.

Also, you were driven mad with need. To have one of the most handsome men you’ve met right next to you, laughing along with you was one thing. To have his hands brush against yours every once in a while, watching those thick veins work their way around a steering wheel was a completely different thing. Waking up next to him with his deep voice right next to yours, having him wrap you in his arms every night, albeit unconsciously was leading you to the edge of insanity.

Unbeknownst to you, Beomgyu was not faring much better. He has grown so attached to you that the thought of being away from you was unthinkable. Every job he did felt like a hurdle to reach you. He loved listening to you talk. You were so animated, hands flying around and having the most comic expressions, he wanted more and more. At the end of the day, Beomgyu was also a man. He knew you slept without a bra on. Your warm body pressed against his and your sweet smelling hair, the way you threw you head back in laughter, exposing your neck to him… Beomgyu felt like he was on a sensory overload.

Yet, he remained a patient man.

-.-

Beomgyu was working away on his laptop when you walked into his study. He looked up and smiled immediately. You were standing at the door, fidgeting, holding a cup and wearing your long camisole.

Beomgyu checks the time. It’s nearly midnight. He just had to figure out this assignment before he slept.

“Well, aren’t you gonna come in?” Beomgyu asks you and you walk upto his table.

“It’s hot cocoa” you tell him before placing down the cup on the table. “Do you have a lot to do?”

“Just this one thing” he tells you pointing to the graph “you go ahead and sleep, I’ll come soon”

You look over at the graph before you, leaning in to get a closer look.

“Ahh, you can’t figure out whether to sell or stay” you tell him looking at the stock market indicators. Beomgyu looks at you in surprise.

“I know my stuff” you tell him, “you neednt look so surprised”

“Is that so? Well would my lovely wife advise me on what i should do then?” He asks you smiling.

You lean down further to see the graph and Beomgyu without warning pulls you down onto his lap.

You turn to look over at him. “Was this your master plan to get me into your lap?” You ask him, dragging the laptop closer to you and adjusting around him.

“Sweetheart you literally came in holding cocoa, that’s code for “i wanna sit on your lap”” he tells you

“Goofy ass” you reply rolling your eyes and Beomgyu drags you closer to him. His breath is so close to your ear that you find it difficult to concentrate on anything but you force yourself to look at the chart before you.

Looking at the rise and fall of the stock you analyse it further to understand it’s behaviour.

“Hmm… I’d advise you to stay” you tell him quietly after a while.

“Why” his voice is close to a whisper and you try not to react to it, pressing your thighs together. An action not missed by Beomgyu.

“Uh…” you feel out of breath. Get a grip! You tell yourself strongly. “See here” you tell him pointing at the graph. Beomgyu rests his chin on your shoulder looking at the place you are pointing.

“The stock has always broken through every time it has hit a barrier and the highs and lows are getting closer and closer, so get ready for the boom” you say the boom looking at his face and Beomgyu grins.

“How do you know all this” voice so loving that you’re taken by surprise. He turns you around on his lap, so that you sit sideways, arms around his shoulder.

“I- uh- I used to do trading for dad” you tell him in a small voice.

“Why did you stop?” He asks you trying to look into your eyes.

“It was not for me. I hate how obsessive I got with it” how obsessive he got with it, you add silently.

Beomgyu rubs a soothing hand over your thigh and you resist the urge to shiver. He smirks at you and you roll your eyes at him, ready to get up, but Beomgyu holds onto your waist.

Beomgyu glances down at your lips and looks back into your eyes. Your doe eyed stare is enough to sent him over the edge, he pulls you closer to him, your body fitting perfectly into his.

“Someone’s eager” you tease him in a whisper, voice full of mirth and Beomgyu cups your cheeks with one hand.

“I’m your husband, sweetheart and husbands have rights” he tells you lowly, face getting closer and closer to yours.

“Hmm… do they?” You ask him, acting like you were thinking about it. Beomgyu nearly growls at you, frustration building up inside him.

“Easy tiger” you laugh, holding his face in your hands and placing a small kiss on his nose. Beomgyu’s grip on your waist tightens and he leans down to your lips, face impossibly close to yours.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks you before capturing your lips with his. The kiss is heated, Beomgyu’s tongue incessantly moving against your own as if to try and get back the last bit of cocoa from your mouth. Your head feels woozy and you try to calm yourself but you feel yourself losing control. You grip onto his shoulders and bite his bottom lip and Beomgyu moans into your mouth, the sound music to your ears.

Beomgyu breaks away first, eyes still closed as if trying to ground himself. You’re not doing much better. You’ve never wanted anyone more in your life. Beomgyu grins at you and you try to kiss his whisker dimples.

“Someone’s eager” he laughs and you shake your head.

“Ofcourse I’m eager” you tell him, “have you seen yourself?” You ask kissing him once more.

“Just - “ Beomgyu’s phone starts ringing and you both look down at it. You see Kai’s caller ID and try not to sigh. Do investment bankers not get the concept of sleep?

“Fuck” Beomgyu mutters. You get up from his lap, but Beomgyu tries to pull you down.

“Baby- just a minute” he tells you eyes apologetic and you feel bad.

“Take your time” you tell him softly before walking out the door.

-.-

Beomgyu is not beside you when you wake up. Slightly disoriented, you get up from your bed. What time was it?

It’s only 7, you make your way down the stairs. Beomgyu stands by the kitchen, already dressed for work.

“Hi” you tell him groggily. “Why are you up so early” you ask him, plopping down on the seat.

“Early meeting. We have a gala to attend tonight” He tells you adjusting his tie.

“What.” You ask him spluttering.

“Be ready by 5” he says turning around and looking at you.

“Beomgyu, I have a parents teachers meet today” you tell him urgently.

“Well, get done with it soon. This is important” he says taking out his phone.

“But- this is my job! I don’t even have an outfit-“ you start panicking.

“I know but this is really important. We need to be there” he says. “I’m sorry”

“Oh, are you really?!” You ask him angrily. You couldn’t understand him. One day he was acting all sweet and loving and the next day, it was like you meant nothing.

“I don’t have the time for this right now” he says walking to the door.

“When do you ever have the time?” You ask following behind him.

“Keep your voice down!” He tells you harshly.

“Oh fuck you-“ you nearly scream.

Beomgyu slams the door on the way out.

Kai had gotten a rare break and went back to the small town where he grew up. He could feel summer in the light breeze, and he wanted to enjoy these peaceful days before going back to the city and the fast pace of his job. After his mother made him dinner, he decided to go for a walk and let the calm of the streets wash him over that night.

He was thirsty, so he stopped at one of the few convenience stores that were still open and bought a bottle of beer. He walked slowly through the almost empty streets with the bottle in his hand. There were no cars, rushing footsteps or loud voices. There was only the sound of the wind moving through the trees in the distance and the occasional crackle of dry leaves underfoot. Everything in that sleepy town seemed to be at rest, which made him feel even more nostalgic and lonely.

He walked until he ended up at the playground in the town square, a place where he had spent lots of happy times as a child. He stopped when he got there to take in the familiar scene. The square looked almost the same but had changed with time: the paint on the wooden bench was peeling, the trees around the park were taller and the streetlights looked colder than he remembered. The little wooden playhouse, on the other hand, looked like it had just been fixed up. He smiled when he saw it, happy that the spirit of the place was still there.

Kai looked at every building and piece of playground equipment that seemed to hold the secrets of his childhood. The slide where he used to race down without fear, the swings where he felt safe, and the little house where so many promises had been made. He closed his eyes for a moment and felt like every little thing brought him closer to the boy he used to be.

This was the place where he had the most fun as a child and teenager, laughing, sharing secrets, and most importantly, with you.

"Y/N..."

He whispered the name softly, as if it had finally gotten away from the place where he had kept it for so long.

He drank some of his beer and all the memories of the two of you came flooding back. He could almost hear your laughter and the sound of your feet running across the playground for a second.

It was as if he had just come back to the first day you met, so clearly that it seemed like it had just happened.

Flashback

Kai was six years old when he walked hand in hand with his mother through the town square of the place they had just moved to. He looked around with wide, fascinated eyes: the trees swaying gently in the cool breeze, dogs running alongside their owners, people chatting on nearby benches. The place felt like something straight out of the bedtime stories his mother used to tell him.

“Don’t you want to go play for a while, sweetheart?” his mother asked gently.

But he only snuggled closer to her, shy as ever. When they sat down on a bench facing the playground, he watched the other children playing. He was curious, but hesitant. He wanted to join them, but he didn’t know anyone.

Distracted, he began fiddling with the zipper of his jacket when a small voice suddenly called out:

“Hey, you!”

Kai looked up and saw a girl with messy hair, scraped knees, and dirt on her hands.

You.

“Do you want to play with me?”

Feeling his cheeks grow warm, he looked at his mother for permission. She smiled and nodded. After a few seconds of hesitation, he gave in and walked toward you. You were beaming at him, showing a huge smile full of baby teeth and a few missing ones.

“What’s your name?” you asked curiously, your eyes bright as you looked at him.

“Kai,” he replied softly. Without hesitation, you grabbed his hand, completely natural about it.

“I’m Y/N,” you said confidently. “Now come on, let’s go to the swings!”

End of flashback

Kai let out a melancholic smile as he sat on the same bench he had once sat on years ago. He had no idea how you were doing; it had been years since the last time you had seen each other. After he left to study abroad, the two of you slowly lost touch, something that would have seemed impossible to anyone who had seen you together during childhood and adolescence.

The memory of your laughter and the warmth of your hand still lingered in his mind, bringing a sharp pang of nostalgia. Kai sighed, thinking about the distance between the shy boy he used to be and the man he had become. Despite everything he had experienced and all the places he had been, you remained a constant in his memories.

That city had been the backdrop of your story, and the time you spent together had become a permanent part of who he was.

The truth was that when he first began to understand his feelings, he realized that what he felt for you went far beyond friendship. He had been in love with you. But he never found the courage to confess it, convinced that you didn’t feel the same way. And besides that, since he was eleven years old, he had known that he would eventually leave—he would move in with his father, study music, and chase his dream of becoming a successful producer.

Time passed, and he achieved the professional success he had always wanted. Yet one persistent doubt followed him like a shadow.

What if I had told her how I felt before leaving?

The thought surfaced often, always unanswered.

But now it felt too late. Years had passed, and he didn’t even know where you were or what your life looked like anymore. Maybe you were married. Maybe you had children. Maybe you had even moved away, though deep down he always believed you would never truly leave that town.

For a moment, a darker thought crossed his mind. What if she isn’t even alive anymore? Kai shook his head, pushing the thought away. Wherever you were, he just hoped you were happy.

What he didn’t know was that fate still had something in store for both of you.

“Damn it, where did I leave my wallet?”

You paced back and forth across the house, rummaging through bags, cushions, and every place the missing item might be hiding, but nothing turned up.

With a nervous sigh, you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to mentally retrace the steps of your day.

“I’m sure I left work with it… I didn’t use it at the market. I paid for the groceries with my phone… so where could it be?”

Suddenly, your eyes widened.

“Of course, the playhouse!”

Earlier, you had stopped by the playground to leave the flowers you had bought there. In a hurry to finish planting everything, you must have dropped your wallet from your bag.

“That’s it. It must be there.”

Relieved, you grabbed your phone and hurried toward the square.

When you arrived, you went straight to the playhouse, and luckily the wallet was right there, lying on one of the steps. A breath of relief escaped your lips. You sat down right there to catch your breath and calm your nerves.

As you looked around, you noticed a tall figure sitting on a bench a short distance away. He seemed to be looking in your direction. A chill ran down your spine. Feeling uneasy, you stood up, ready to leave, when a deep voice suddenly broke the silence.

“Y/N?”

Recognizing the voice, you turned around, blinking as if your eyes were playing tricks on you.

“Kai?” you asked in disbelief.

The man approached, and as he got closer you realized how much he had changed: taller, broader shoulders, and slightly longer hair. But the features you remembered from childhood were still there.

My God… he’s so handsome.

Completely surprised, you covered your mouth with your hands.

He smiled and, without thinking, pulled you into a tight hug. Kai was stronger now, but somehow he was still the same childhood friend.

“I can’t believe it!” you finally said, your voice still full of astonishment. “You… it’s really you!”

“I never imagined I’d find you here at this hour,” he replied, stepping back slightly and scratching the back of his head, clearly nervous. “You look… different.”

“Oh, really, Sherlock?” you teased, trying to hide your surprise behind a casual tone. “How many years has it been since the last time we saw each other? Eight, maybe?”

“Something like that.” He smiled awkwardly, his usual shyness now even more noticeable. “And you? How have you been? What have you been doing with your life?”

“I’m an architect. I work at city hall,” you replied with a small smile. “I’ve been working on revitalization projects around the city.”

“Wow, Y/N, that’s amazing! Seriously, that’s cool,” Kai said, genuinely impressed.

“Yeah… and you?” you asked. “I’m guessing you’re working with music, right? That was always your thing.”

“Yeah. I’m a music producer at a major record label in the capital,” he replied, a proud smile spreading across his face.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” you said, a hint of nostalgia in your voice but with a genuine smile. “Well, Kai… I should probably go. It was nice seeing you.”

You started to walk away, but he quickly reached out and grabbed your arm, stopping you.

“Look, Y/N… I’m not going to be in town for long,” he said, his voice slightly more hesitant than he intended. “So, I was wondering if you’d like to grab coffee with me sometime.”

You made a playful face, trying to hide the nervousness the invitation stirred in you.

“Did you seriously forget that I hate coffee?” you laughed, noticing how embarrassed he looked. “But I’ll accept a beer… like the one you’re holding.”

Kai looked at the bottle in his hand and suddenly his face lit up.

“If you’re not busy right now, we could grab a couple and just… talk for a while,” he suggested with a shy smile. “What do you think?”

You glanced at your phone, thinking about it. If you went home now, you’d probably end up watching some random movie and eating junk food anyway. At least a beer sounded like a good way to relax.

“Hmm… alright. Why not?” you said with a small smile. Kai returned the smile, clearly relieved.

After buying the beers, you both sat on the steps of the playhouse and talked for a while.

“The other day I ran into your mother at the market,” you said. “She told me she hadn’t heard from you in a long time.”

“Yeah… life in the city is a bit chaotic,” he sighed, taking a sip of his beer. “There’s barely any time between one project and the next. That’s why I decided to come visit during these few days off.”

“I get that. That’s exactly why I chose to stay around here,” you shrugged, taking a sip as well.

“Did you ever leave town?” he asked curiously.

“I did. After I graduated, I lived in the capital for a few months. But when my grandfather got sick, I dropped everything and came back,” you explained.

“Oh… and how are your grandparents?” he asked with a warm smile. “Your grandmother used to make the best chocolate cookies.”

A lump formed in your throat, and your eyes began to sting.

You avoided looking at him. With your head lowered, staring at the neck of the bottle, you finally said:

“So you really don’t know…”

“Don’t know what?” he asked, confused.

“Kai… they passed away.”

You finally looked at him and saw the smile fade quickly from his face.

“My grandfather stayed with us for only six more months. He fought hard, but his heart couldn’t take it. A year later, my grandmother passed away peacefully in her sleep.”

“Y/N… I’m so sorry,” Kai said, clearly shaken. “I… I don’t even know what to say.”

“I don’t think there’s much to say,” you replied with a weak smile, shrugging slightly. “My grandparents were very close. I always admired the relationship they had. My grandmother was incredibly strong. She stayed by my grandfather’s side through all his suffering, always telling him everything would be okay. But when he passed away… the light in her eyes disappeared. A part of her died with him.”

“That’s really sad,” he said softly.

You shook your head.

“It’s not sad. It’s love,” you replied, making his heart race. “The doctors said my grandmother was starting to feel the effects of old age. But I think she died of a broken heart.”

Kai remained silent, watching you. After finishing your beer and setting the bottle aside, you continued.

“I tried to stay strong, but it wasn’t easy. I was there, taking care of them alone, and sometimes the weight of it all was too much. And then suddenly… they were gone. And I realized I was truly alone.” You paused for a moment. “That’s when I understood that missing someone can feel like it’s killing you from the inside.”

“It’s hard to imagine you like that,” he said quietly. “You were the happiest person I ever knew. I’ll never forget how you came to see me every day when my parents separated, just to make sure I was okay.”

“Yeah… at least you had someone to lean on,” you said with a dry laugh.

Kai swallowed hard. Guilt tightened in his chest. He looked toward the horizon, then down at the bottle in his hand, and finally back at you, focused on your own fingers.

He tried several times to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t even imagine everything you had gone through. The regret was eating him alive.

“Y/N… I’m sorry we lost touch,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like to go through all that alone.”

“Thank you, Kai, but it doesn’t matter anymore,” you said with a sigh. “It’s been three years. Time goes by fast. Eventually you learn how to deal with the pain and the loneliness until they become… manageable.”

Kai nodded slowly and finished his beer.

The two of you sat there in silence, lost in your own thoughts.

She’s so strong, he thought. He didn’t know how he would handle something like that. Yes, you had been hurt, but you carried yourself with a strength that was impossible not to admire. In truth, your resilience has always been one of the things Kai admired most about you. Whenever you got frustrated, you would scream into a pillow, then toss it aside with a sigh and say everything was fine.

Back when you were teenagers, Kai used to find it funny, especially the first time you showed him that “trick.”

Flashback

“Look, Kai, I know it’s hard that your dad is moving so far away, but try to see the bright side,” you said, sitting beside him on the Huening family’s couch. “You can visit him during summer vacation and bring me souvenirs!”

“Y/N, I know you’re just trying to help, but honestly, all I want to do right now is scream,” he replied, frustrated.

“Oh! I have an idea!” Your face lit up as you grabbed a pillow within reach and handed it to him. “Here.”

“What’s this for?” he asked, confused.

“When I get really upset about something, I hold a pillow in front of my face and scream into it,” you demonstrated. “After that, I calm down.”

He blinked a few times, staring at you in silence. Then he couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing.

You couldn’t resist his laughter and ended up laughing too, and soon the two of you were yelling into the pillow together, only to burst out laughing again right after. The sound of your laughter was like music to him.

While you distracted yourself with your phone a moment later, Kai found himself watching you quietly. He noticed your hair, the softness of your skin, the sweetness in your eyes, and the way you bit your lip when you were concentrating.

“Huening, why are you looking at me like that?” you asked when you finally noticed his stare, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“N-nothing,” he stammered. “It’s just… you’ve got something on your cheek.”

He reached out and gently, or maybe not so gently, touched your cheek.

“Ow!” you complained, rubbing your face. “Oh, you’re going to regret that!”

Within seconds, the two of you were locked in a pillow fight, laughing nonstop.

Kai’s parents heard your laughter and exchanged a knowing look. Smiling softly, they watched the two of you.

They were sure he would be alright, especially with a friend like you by his side.

End of flashback

The memory made Kai’s chest tighten.

He remembered how, when the two of you were together, nothing ever felt final. Back then, everything seemed endless, as if those days would simply stretch on forever. But life is always shifting, and over the years he had drifted away from what once felt permanent. Time had changed everything and yet those moments still lived inside him, touching him more deeply than he cared to admit.

He noticed your resolute gaze fixed on the horizon, and in that moment he understood something he had been avoiding for years. None of the emotions he had carried since that afternoon in his living room had ever truly disappeared.

Silence settled between you, heavy, filled with everything left unsaid. Each of you lost in your own thoughts, searching for words that seemed impossible to speak.

Kai didn’t know how, or even if he wanted, to break that silence. The truth he carried inside him was becoming suffocating yet doubt gnawed at him. Wouldn’t it be easier to simply let it go? So much time had passed.

He looked at you, feeling the urge to speak burn in his throat, but fear held him back. How could he express everything he felt after all this time? What could he possibly say that wouldn’t sound shallow, or worse, too late?

To hell with it, he thought. At least I’ll get this off my chest.

But just as the words were about to escape him, he hesitated, because at that exact moment, your eyes met his and suddenly he remembered the last time he had seen you.

His chest tightened all over again.

Flashback

Kai was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by half-packed suitcases and clothes folded only halfway, trying to decide what would still fit and what he would have to leave behind. The house was far too quiet, broken only by the occasional sound of his mother walking down the hallway and the zipper of a suitcase opening and closing again without any real reason.

He couldn’t focus.

Everything felt wrong. Out of place. As if he were packing someone else’s life instead of his own.

That was when he heard a soft tapping sound against the window. He froze for a moment, frowning, thinking he might have imagined it. Then it happened again, a small, dry tap. Kai stood up and walked to the window, pulling the curtain aside.

You were standing outside, still wearing your prom dress. The light fabric reflected the yellow glow of the streetlamp, and your hair, carefully styled hours earlier, had already started to loosen, as if the night itself had begun to undo it. You were hugging your arms close to your body, clearly cold, but the moment you saw his face appearing at the window, you smiled.

He opened the window immediately.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I went to the dance.” You shrugged, as if the answer were obvious.

“I know,” he nodded, confused.

“But you weren’t there.” You tilted your head slightly.

The words hung in the air between you.

He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. There wasn’t a good enough explanation.

“I… was packing,” he finally said.

“I know.” You nodded, then glanced toward the square across the street. “Come with me.”

He hesitated, but he didn’t say no.

A few minutes later, the two of you were sitting on the swings in the empty playground, the cold metal creaking softly with each small movement. The town felt different at that hour, quieter, as if it were holding its breath.

Kai couldn’t stop looking at you.

Not the way he always had before. Not like a friend. Not like someone who would always be there.

Something felt different now. More urgent. As if time had suddenly become shorter.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” You looked at him suddenly; It wasn’t a question.

“I am.”

You nodded, staring at your feet for a moment, as if gathering courage. Then you stood up and held out your hand.

“Give me one last dance.”

“Here?” Kai felt his heart stumble in his chest.

“Here.” You smiled.

There was no music, but you stepped closer anyway, taking his hand and placing your other hand on his shoulder, guiding him naturally, as if this had always been obvious, as if it had always been meant to happen.

Kai rested his hand on your waist, hesitant at first, feeling the warmth of your body through the thin fabric of your dress.

You began to move slowly, small circles, almost imperceptible. The world felt smaller there, more bearable, as if, while you were standing in front of him, he wasn’t really leaving.

He looked at you and you were already looking at him, but there was something in your eyes he had never noticed before.

For a moment, he thought about saying something. Anything. He thought about telling you he didn’t want to leave, that you were the only thing that had ever made that town feel like home… But he stayed silent and so did you.

When the dance ended, you didn’t step away immediately. Your hand lingered in his for a second longer than necessary.

Then you let go.

“You should probably go back to packing,” you said with a small smile.

He nodded, but he didn’t move.

You started walking away toward the street. Then you stopped and looked back, as if expecting him to follow you. He didn’t.

You smiled once more before turning and walking away.

Kai remained there, standing alone in the middle of the empty playground, still feeling the warmth of your hand slowly fading from his, wondering what might have happened if he had said something different that night.

End of flashback

“The mood got heavy,” you said with a faint smile. “Sorry… I don’t know what got into me, bringing all this up after so long without seeing each other.”

“No, Y/N… if anyone should apologize, it’s me.” He finally broke the silence, gently taking your hand. “I’m sorry for pulling away. For not reaching out. For getting so caught up in my own life that I forgot how important you’ve always been to me. We grew up together.”

“But we drifted apart, Kai,” you replied softly. “And that’s just… life, I guess. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I was a terrible friend, and I’m really sorry for that. I just hope you can forgive me… and maybe we can be a little like we used to be.”

The pain in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, but you didn’t know what to do with it. You weren’t even sure there was anything to do.

“I understand what you’re saying, but honestly, I don’t think we can go back to how things were.” Your voice softened, but the wound was still there. “I missed you too. More than you can imagine. But things change.”

“They don’t have to,” he said, tightening his hold on your hand. “I want to fix this.”

“Look, Kai…” you sighed, gathering the courage to pull your hand away. “You started pulling away from me even when you were still here.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the words you were about to say.

“I liked you, Kai. More than anything back then. But you never noticed. And when I realized there was no chance you’d ever feel the same way, I gave up. I was alone during that time… and you were too, but in a completely different way.” The sadness in your eyes was impossible to ignore. “We were never on the same page. And the worst part is… you left, and I stayed. I kept hoping that, at some point, you’d fight for our friendship. But in the end, I understood that you had already moved on. So… I moved on too.”

Kai remained silent for a few moments, unable to find the right words. The pain in his chest felt almost crushing.

“I didn’t know that, Y/N. I… I had no idea how you felt. I never realized.” The sadness in his eyes was clear, guilt pressing down on him like a weight. “If I had known…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence. The words died in his throat, crushed by the weight of everything he was finally beginning to understand.

For years, he had believed silence was the safest choice, that preserving what you had was better than risking losing everything. But now, looking at you, he realized silence hadn’t protected anything at all. It hadn’t preserved your friendship, it had only guaranteed that the two of you would walk separate paths, carrying questions that were never answered.

His mind drifted back to that night at the playground, the way you had held his hand, the way you had looked at him as if you were waiting for something he had never had the courage to give. Back then, he thought he was doing the right thing. Now he understood he had just been afraid of not being enough. Afraid of losing you.

And in the end, that was exactly what happened.

“It’s okay, Kai. That’s all in the past now,” you said gently, resting a hand on his shoulder.

The touch should have been comforting, but instead it made reality feel even harsher. You were still trying to be understanding with him, when he should have been the one who had been there for you all those years.

He had spent so long convincing himself that the past was settled, that it was simply part of who he used to be, that he never stopped to consider you might have been waiting for him all that time.

“No, Y/N… it’s not in the past.” Kai held your gaze, his expression tense. “I was an idiot for not realizing it… and for never showing you how much I liked you too.”

“What?” you whispered.

“I’ve always liked you,” he continued, his voice quieter now, but steadier than it had ever been. “I just never thought I had the right to say it out loud. You were always… more. Stronger, more confident, more whole. And I thought if I crossed that line and you didn’t feel the same, I’d lose even the little I had. So, I stayed silent. But the worst part is… by staying silent, I lost you anyway.”

He let out an unsteady breath; his eyes still locked on yours.

“And that was the biggest mistake of my life.”

You didn’t answer immediately. Your gaze remained fixed on him, as if trying to recognize something that had always been there, something he had never fully allowed you to see.

Your heart was beating too fast. Part of you wanted to believe every word. Wanted to accept it as the truth you had always hoped to hear. But another part of you, more cautious, more wounded, didn’t know what to do with that revelation.

“Why now?” you finally asked, your voice quiet but steady. “Why are you telling me this now?”

The question wasn’t hostile; it was honest and somehow that hurt even more.

Kai swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair, visibly shaken.

“Because I finally realized losing you is the one thing I never got over.”

The silence that followed was different from the others.

You could feel the weight of his words, the way they filled spaces you had spent years learning to ignore. For so long, you had believed those feelings existed only inside you, something one-sided, something that needed to be buried so you could move on.

You had made peace with that version of the story, accepted that he would never be yours, but now he was standing in front of you, looking at you as if he had never truly left.

“You hurt me, Kai,” you said finally. Not with anger. Just truth. “Not because you left… but because you never gave me a reason to believe it was worth waiting.”

He nodded slowly, accepting every word, because he knew you were right.

“I know.” No defense, no excuses. Just the truth.

The air between you felt heavier now, filled with everything that had never been said. You studied his face, the features you still recognized, now marked by years, by choices, by absence. He wasn’t the boy you had once loved in silence, and you weren’t the girl who waited for him anymore.

“So, what happens now, Kai?” you asked gently but firmly, searching his eyes for an answer.

He sighed, trying to gather his thoughts. The uncertainty was still there, but now something stronger had taken its place, the determination not to let time and missed chances slip away again.

“I know things might never go back to the way they were, Y/N. We’ve changed. But I can’t just walk away without trying… without reconnecting with you. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Nothing that had been said could be taken back now.

Kai’s gaze, once filled with doubt, now remained steady on you. Your eyes seemed to be searching for an answer that went beyond words.

“I’ll ask you one more time, Kai,” you said quietly, leaning closer to him. “What happens now?”

“Whatever you want,” he answered, his voice almost a whisper, as if he had finally found the words he had been searching for all along. He got closer, closing the distance between you as the weight of everything left unsaid over the years hung in the air. “I just… don’t want to lose you, Y/N.”

You could feel the warmth radiating from Kai, almost intoxicating now. The doubt and pain that still lingered seemed to soften under the intensity of his gaze. Your heart began to race, and even though part of you wanted to pull away, your body refused to obey. Kai seemed to have a magnetic pull, drawing you closer, and you let yourself give in.

He leaned in, and you felt the gentle touch of his hand against your face. It wasn’t just the contact, it was the warmth of him, so intense it felt like it was spreading through every part of you. He didn’t pull back, and your eyes closed almost instinctively, as if your soul already knew what was about to happen.

When his lips finally met yours, the kiss was soft, gentle, almost delicate.

But the intensity quickly took over.

The warmth of his lips, the urgency of the moment… it felt as if time and distance had disappeared all at once. For a moment, the two of you lost yourselves in the sensation. Then the movements grew more desperate, as if you were finally finding your way back to each other. Your breaths mixed, deepening a kiss that had waited far too long to happen.

Kai, his hand still cupping your face, deepened the kiss, and a wave of warmth spread through you, making you surrender completely. The taste of beer still lingered on his lips, but now there was something else there, something that spoke of everything that had been hidden, everything that had been wanted.

When you finally pulled apart, the air between you felt different. Warmer. Heavier. As if something long trapped inside both of you had finally been released.

Kai was still standing far too close, close enough for you to feel his breath and realize you hadn’t stepped away. His heart started pounding.

He wasn’t imagining it, you were still there.

His gaze dropped for a moment, not deliberately, but inevitably. Your lips were still slightly parted, your breathing uneven, your chest rising and falling too quickly. You looked just as affected as he felt, and that realization shattered the little control he had left.

Almost without thinking, his hand returned to your face, his fingers brushing your skin with a caution that didn’t match the urgency burning inside him.

“Y/N…” he started but didn’t finish. There was nothing left to say. You didn’t step back and that was all he needed.

The next kiss carried no hesitation. No doubt. It was firmer, deeper, as if he were finally allowing himself to do something he had denied himself for years. And this time you responded with even more intensity, with hunger, with desire.

When you finally broke apart, time seemed to slow. The world around you faded into silence, distant and unreal, as if nothing existed beyond that moment. You could still taste him. You could still feel the warmth of his hand against your face. Your heart was still beating far too fast.

Kai didn’t move away. His eyes remained fixed on yours, as if he were trying to memorize every detail. There was something different in his expression now, something rawer, more honest.

“I’m here now,” he said quietly, his voice still unsteady. “And I don’t want to leave again.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if the words were still new even to him.

“So… what happens now, Y/N?”

You didn’t answer right away. You could feel his breath against your skin, warm and too close. You could feel your own body responding to his presence, to his honesty, to the courage that had come late, but was real.

For so long, you had buried the version of the two of you that might have existed, convincing yourself it was gone forever, but he was here and, for the first time, he wasn’t hiding.

You stepped a little closer, your faces separated by barely any distance. Your fingers brushed against his arm in a light gesture, but full of intention.

“I want you to make love to me, Kai.” Your voice came out softer than you intended.

Kai fell silent for a moment, surprise flickering across his face, mingling with the intensity of the desire now hanging between you. His eyes held something deeper than simple longing, relief, uncertainty, and perhaps quiet gratitude that this moment was finally real.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough, as if he needed to hear it again to know this wasn’t just a dream.

You smiled, calmer now, though the desire in your eyes remained clear. Without hesitation, you took his hand and placed it against your waist, pulling him closer.

“I’m sure.”

The simple gesture, combined with your certainty, said everything. There were no more doubts, no more hesitation. The two of you were ready to move forward, ready to surrender to the feeling that had resurfaced after so many lost years.

“Come on,” you said softly. “Let’s go inside.”

You pulled him toward the playhouse. Kai had to duck slightly to pass through the small doorway, which made you laugh. As soon as he stepped inside, he sat down and pulled you onto his lap.

Kai held you even closer, and the intensity of the moment took over again. Your lips met once more, but now with greater urgency, greater need. His hands began to explore your body gently, each warm touch, each careful movement feeling like a step toward something new and yet strangely familiar.

Your heart raced as your body responded to his, and the need to be close to Kai, to connect with him in a way that felt almost written by fate, finally became real.

When you pulled apart again, breathless, both of you knew that what had just happened wasn’t simply a moment of long-suppressed passion. Something bigger was beginning between you, something that, this time, wouldn’t be broken.

“Now… this is our moment,” Kai said. His voice was low but filled with conviction, as if he had finally found himself. He kissed you again, deeply, and this time both of you knew there was no turning back.

Slowly, your hands began to slide along his torso, slipping beneath the black shirt he was wearing. Kai’s skin was warm, and it didn’t take long before you pulled away from the kiss just enough to lift the fabric over his head.

He quickly did the same with you. Your blouse soon landed somewhere on the floor of the playhouse, the dim interior lit only by thin beams of light slipping through the small windows. It was enough for you to see each other’s expressions, every reaction.

His mouth found your neck almost immediately, moving between slow kisses, gentle bites, and lingering touches of his tongue. The heat between you kept rising, and a soft gasp escaped your lips as your hands tangled in his dark hair.

His fingers paused at the strap of your bra. For a moment he hesitated, glancing up at you. When you nodded, he released a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.

“You’re even more perfect than I imagined,” he murmured when he saw your boobs free.

Without wasting another second, his mouth closed around one of your nipples while his fingers teased the other.

The sound that slipped from your throat betrayed how much you were enjoying it. Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling slightly. Kai seemed to like that, because he began to suck harder, more eagerly.

Soon your hips began to move against the outline beneath his jeans, drawing a low groan from him as his hands tightened around your waist.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” he murmured in your ear, his voice rough.

Your eyes fluttered shut.

“Yes… and I like it very much,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him as you kept moving.

“Don’t do that,” he warned softly, gripping your waist tighter. “You’re going to drive me insane.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want,” you replied, your foreheads touching. “Punishing you for leaving all those years.”

“If that’s the punishment,” he said with a crooked smile, catching your lower lip gently between his teeth, “I’ll happily accept it. But let me take you to heaven first.”

“Then lead the way, love,” you whispered.

He quickly unbuttoned your shorts. You did the same with his jeans, and with some effort the last remaining pieces of clothing disappeared as well.

The admiration between you burned on your skin.

Kai had always been handsome but seeing him naked surpassed every fantasy you had ever imagined. And to him, you looked like something out of paradise. The way his gaze traveled slowly over your body only made the desire inside you grow stronger.

“I can’t wait anymore… I need you now,” he breathed, suddenly searching his pockets in frustration. “Damn. Y/N… I don’t have a condom. Do you?”

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “I’m on the pill.”

Kai bit his lower lip, trying to control himself.

“You’re really trying to drive me crazy,” he laughed quietly, pulling you closer.

Without looking away from him, you stepped forward, your heart racing as if each beat answered to his presence. No words were necessary. The way you looked at each other said everything.

You touched his face gently, almost reverently, and he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch.

“Come here,” Kai murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Still holding your hand, he sat down on the pile of clothes and pulled you closer. With his free hand he stroked himself quickly before looking back at you.

“Ride me.”

You positioned yourself carefully and slowly lowered yourself onto him. He was big, and you had to move slowly. Kai closed his eyes for a moment as your warmth surrounded him. The sensation between you felt electric and delicate at the same time, as if every movement carried meaning. For a few seconds the world seemed to stop, then you began to move.

You couldn’t hold back your moans, your eyes rolling back as pleasure spread through you. Kai’s half-lidded gaze moved between your face, your body, and the way you moved against him.

“Fuck… you feel so good around me,” he groaned. “Maybe I wasn’t the first… but I want to be the last one to feel you like this.”

“Keep going like that,” you gasped, “and maybe you will.”

You were completely lost in him, feeling his body against yours, each movement slowly erasing the years that had once separated you. The world outside disappeared and for that moment, there was only the two of you.

“Fuck, Y/N… pussy so good, taking everything like a good girl” he groaned, gripping your hips.

You pulled him closer instinctively, and Kai wrapped his arms around you, your bodies pressing together as your lips met again in a quick kiss, both of you breathing hard. Kai’s movements became faster, more instinctive as he felt himself getting closer.

“Don’t stop, Kai,” you moaned.

“Are you going to cum, baby girl?” he asked hoarsely. “Cum for me.”

A few more movements were all it took. Your body tensed as the pleasure finally broke over you, tightening around him. Kai held your hips firmly in place as he followed moments later.

For a few seconds neither of you could breathe then your eyes met. You shared a slow, meaningful kiss. It began soft, almost like a confirmation that you were finally standing in the same place. But soon it deepened again, as if both of you were trying to reclaim the time that had been lost.

When you finally pulled away, something in Kai’s eyes had changed. The hesitation was gone. So was the fear that had kept him silent for so many years. He was learning what it meant to have you like this: without distance, with a connection deeper than anything he had imagined.

You smiled, still a little stunned by what had just happened, but with no regret.

“I’m screwed,” he sighed softly, still inside you. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live without your pussy again.”

You laughed and gave him a playful slap on the shoulder.

“I don’t want to think about the future right now,” he continued, scratching the back of his head. “But I’d really like to try… if you want. Can I take you out sometime?”

“Of course,” you said with a teasing smile. “I’ll clear my schedule for you. But like you said… I don’t want to think about the future. I just want to enjoy right now.”

“Right now,” he murmured, his voice low with lingering desire, “I’m here. With you, Y/N.”

“Good,” you said with a grin. “We can continue this in my bedroom. What do you think?”

“I’m definitely in.” You both got dressed quickly and headed toward your house.

For the first time in years, you felt ready to move forward, to live in the present without barriers. And tomorrow? That belonged to the future, but for the first time in a while, it felt promising.

elle speaks²: thanks for reading ♡

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction created by me. the characters of TOMORROW X TOGETHER and the song mentioned are used for creative purposes only. this story is not affiliated with BigHit Entertainment or TXT, and all content is fictional and does not reflect reality. the song “Playground Love” is owned by its creators and used here without profit.

In the two years you and Soobin have dated, you both had NEVER touched each other sexually . Despite you both being the horniest people you both know, it was just a matter of who was going to make the first move. Sure, a few hugs and kisses here and there. And of course, cuddling. But you both had never even gotten to the makeout stage.

Until tonight.

You and Soobin had been giving small hints to each other the last few days. Soobin’s hands always dangerously near your boobs when he would be the big spoon, or how everytime you both would kiss each other goodbye to leave with friends, your lips would linger in certain places you KNEW he was sensitive in just to get a reaction.

On that same day, Soobin texted you, asking if you wanted to “move forward”. Knowing exactly what  he wanted, you agreed in less than a second. You both were so childish around each other, giggling whenever Soobin would put his hand on your thigh. You both would just burst out into laughter. It was silly and you both couldn't take each other seriously. So, setting the giggles aside you made up a little plan. You guys would clear your schedules for the next day and  try your best to start off just by making out

Except, of course it didn't go to plan. Soobin being forgetful of this whole plan, had you standing at the front door, confused on why his friends were now sitting in your shared living room. Soobin had invited his friends over, thinking nothing of it. So when you walk into your house, you can imagine the face Soobin had made as soon as he saw you, all dolled up for him.

Closing the passenger seat of the car, you turned your head to glare at Soobin, whose face had guilt spread all over it. Soobin had told his friends he was out to get some dinner, to which they all happily agreed, given they were hungry. But you and Soobin both knew it was gonna take a bit longer.

Soobin had put the car into reverse and slowly backed out of the driveway before shifting the gear to drive. His car was fairly big so it was great for transportation-.. Among other things. “Bunny, I’m sorry, I really am. I completely forgot. I must've mixed up the day or something.” “Soobs, we made the plan together! You could've at least texted me that we would’ve had people over.” “I know, I know. I really am sorry baby.”

Soobin mumbled, a hand reaching out to caress your thigh with his thumb You gave Soobin a small glance, just to see if he was laughing or anything but surprisingly he was serious. In a few minutes, Soobin parked his car in a secluded area. If he drove a little further, you could've sworn you could see the whole city.

You both quickly made your way to the back seat and wasted no time. Soobin crashed his lips into yours, to which you reacted quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck. He wanted to make up for that little mistake. That and because he was tired of hiding the fact he had jerked off to you so many times + he was horny.

Soobin pulled you into his lap as you two kissed, large hands squeezing the plush flesh of your ass. You jumped slightly, causing Soobin to break off the hungry kiss, leaving you both breathless. “Are you okay?” Soobin asked, tilting his head to the side. You nodded with a slight giggle. “Your hands are cold.” “Get used to it quickly..please.” He quickly responded, to which you nodded, leaning in to kiss Soobin once more.

Feeling you slightly grind on Soobin’s thigh, Soobin let out a small chuckle. “You want it that bad sweetheart?” He teased, lips slowly trailing down to kiss at your breasts. “It's not my fault you make me feel this way.” You breathed out, feeling Soobin’s cold fingers pull your low cut shirt down, only for his heart shape lips to latch onto your nipples

You feel your breath hitch as Soobin’s tongue licks and sucks your mound of flesh with such hunger, giving each one the same treatment. You felt his boner come up through his jeans to hit your right where your soaking core was, under your skirt. Your hands tucked softly on Soobin’s hair, causing him to look up at you with his big eyes, faking innocence. Your eyes said it all, and Soobin was more than happy to serve. <3

The car shook slightly as Soobin’s hard thrusts gave out. Your hands held onto Soobin’s broad shoulders as mascara filled tears trickled down your cheeks. Soobin’s hand gently was placed over the small bump in your stomach, watching as it disappeared and reappeared with each thrust. Your moans were like music to Soobin’s ears. He waited, he was patient for two whole years just to hear you cry out his name, saying it was “too much”

the man felt so fucking special.

You hiccuped and sobbed, removing all of your pretty makeup. Hours of getting ready, doing your hair, doing your makeup gone in a mere 20 minutes :( You watched Soobin pound the living daylights out of you as your grip on his shoulders tightened. Soobin lowered his face to kiss at your lips, to which you gladly kissed back in between soft sobs.

“Baby gonna cum- gonna- oh fuck! ‘M gonna cum-” “Its okay- just.. God you’re so fucking tight- gonna cum too.”

Soobin’s thrusts were sloppier than ever as you both nearly reached your high. Your guy’s moans became much whinier until you had came, to which Soobin had pulled out and came onto your stomach right after. Soobin let out a tired sigh, placing small kisses all over your face. “You felt so good, my love.”

“Why did we wait 2 years for this?” You asked, letting out a breathy laugh. Soobin shrugged slightly, chuckling a bit as his kisses trailed to kiss at your boobs. It was only until a text from one of Soobin’s friends had brought him out of his lustful trance.