#yinyjw's notes

"my children, look at your hands. are they clean? the world outside is a hungry wolf, but inside here, we must be like the immaculate lamb" you heard the pastor preach from the pulpit. formal clothes, shirt tucked into pants, the best shoes you owned, hair so slicked back with a mixture of water and styling gel that it reflected the ceiling lights. when your father's eyes fell upon you, you lowered yours, resting them on the restless hands in your lap. that week's sermon was not in vain.

"remember: your body does not belong to you. it was bought with a price of blood. any desire of the flesh is a crack in the temple, and through that crack, the enemy enters" the man kept his eyes on your figure, and it wasn't necessary to look back to know; your shoulders burned from the indirect exposure. all because he had seen the boy who tended the gardens handing you a rose; which, of course, you had accepted politely.

it wasn't as if you had feelings for the boy, but you also weren't used to receiving attention from the opposite sex - even the church youth groups were careful not to mix genders. besides that, there was the major factor of being the pastor's daughter in a tiny countryside town where everyone knew each other and nothing was a secret.

it had happened to lisa, a former high school classmate, when she had her first kiss and went to confess and seek guidance; she had come out in tears from the small room your father used as an office. that same night, he told you never to speak to or sit near her during services again. or when the late mrs. johnson refused to give her tithe, claiming she needed to pay for the entire family's burial plot since she was the last of the name; the following week she no longer appeared at church, or the week after that, and after, and after... until she was found dead in her living room armchair; your father refused to say why the woman had stopped coming on sundays before her inevitable death from old age.

you sighed when the church bells rang, indicating the end of the preaching. the murmuring grew, and most people stood up, greeting one another, talking about trivialities as they walked toward the exit. you refrained, going to help your father blow out the candles and put away the books. you piled the objects in your lap, heading toward the narrow back door, noticing out of the corner of your eye before crossing the threshold an unfamiliar face going to talk to him.

you arranged everything on the shelves, brushing your dusty hand against your linen skirt before heading back out. your father was no longer there, nor was the stranger, but you saw under the door that the office light was on, so you sat down to wait. if your mother were still around, maybe she would tell you to go talk with the younger crowd while she waited for him, but that was a reality from years ago when she was still alive. you pressed your lips together and sighed, settled once more in the front row of pews.

the silence of the hall made the distant clock's tick-tock echo loudly, and the amplitude of the empty space made the cross positioned on the small altar seem to triple in size. he was watching. even if it wasn't your father, he would know, and he would judge. he would judge your lack of excitement for religion, your little faith, your curious glances, your inadequate desires, and he would whisper to your parent what he should say up there, so that every word was directed specifically at you.

a shiver ran down your spine when the office door opened, pulling you out of your small trance. your father was the first to step out, holding the door and signaling for the other to follow. who was he? dark hair, longer than usual for guys, a heavy brown suede jacket over a plain white shirt, jeans, and leather boots. you had never seen him around there, or anywhere else in town. his face was different, handsome... very handsome. full lips, thick eyebrows, a large nose... and as they approached, you noticed how tall he was too.

"ah, you're here" your father commented, flashing a fake smile in your direction, indicating his anger hadn't ceased, even after everything he had said. you stood up on impulse; hands pinned to your sides and perfect posture, but your sweet, shimmering eyes didn't lie as they scanned the new guy. "this is jake, jake sim, he just moved in" the man continued, observing your stunned state and then clearing his throat. "introduce yourself, kid..." something deep in your gut urged you to be indifferent, to ignore jake's hand extended toward you. but your body spoke before your brain could rationalize. your name came out as a whisper from your dry lips, but he still smiled, squeezing your hand lightly, letting you let go first. he put his hands back into his coat pockets while your father looked at you as if your head had been replaced by a giant question mark.

***

after that day, jake's presence was recurring. more often than you needed, less often than you craved. he was different from all the guys you knew; those who were almost a copy of your father - clothes too perfect, empty gazes. yes, jake was like a reminder that the mundane existed, a reminder that not everyone believed in the same god as you, that not everyone prayed before eating or cared about going to hell over a bad choice. whenever you ran into him, he smiled in your direction - an upside-down smile that made you wonder if he was curious or just felt pity.

your father had said he was moving from another city with no relatives, trying to make a life in a different place, and that was why jake would live in the small back room of the church for a while, paying rent by helping with the restoration of the ceiling and some walls that urgently needed plaster and paint.

he seemed willing, never truly standing still, carrying buckets of paint, mortar, pushing the rusty wheelbarrow where he put all the tools and materials back and forth. one moment he was outside, another he stopped to smoke before moving on to restore some pillar in the main hall. and whenever you cooked, your father asked you to take a plate of food to the dark-haired guy; since your house was across the street and it didn't hurt to help.

whether it was simple rice and meat or pasta, jake always made sure to thank you properly, stopping what he was doing - white tank top clinging to his sweaty torso, stained with paint and dirt, hair stuck to his forehead which he pushed back with his fingers - stepping down from the ladder or standing up to receive the plate from you. "did you make this?" he would ask, smelling the food and then looking at you. "yes... it's simple, i hope you don't mind". he would shake his head and then smile wide before sitting down to eat on a low stool nearby. "i haven't eaten home-cooked food in months." he would fork it and take a big bite, chewing and nodding approvingly, "it's good, very good."

your heart didn't help, making your chest give an unexpected twinge that left you flustered by the compliments you never received. "you... have been helping a lot..." you justified, and after a few seconds of just watching, you would simply extend your hand in a small goodbye and turn your back, walking quickly to leave the place while your small fingers reached for the rosary decorating your neck, squeezing the pendant hard.

it was bad. it was worse than you could have imagined. and it got worse. the more you saw him, the more phrases you exchanged, the more you wanted to talk, the more you wanted to discover who he really was. you knew he had a car, a ford f-custom pickup in a faded red tone from sitting in the sun. you knew he liked jackets because you had seen him with several; you knew he smoked and that he didn't attend the services; not even once.

jake didn't talk about his family; let alone which city he was coming from. your father didn't know much more either, snapping back with a "why do you want to know?" the first and only time you questioned him during dinner. "just because... he appeared so suddenly" you replied with a trembling voice, hearing a huff from the older man.

as the weeks passed, the church took on a new air: revamped, clean. he had even taken care of the flowers in the beds - abandoned since your father excommunicated the gardener for the act of chivalry toward you - which now had small white and yellow flowers blooming. the ceiling didn't drip anymore when it rained, and jake had fixed the pews that had rotting boards inside. your father was grateful, you knew he was; maybe that was why he didn't force jake to participate on sundays. but whenever the service ended and you left the church, you could see him outside with a cigarette tucked into the corner of his lips, flipping through some book you had never heard of, sitting on the hood of his truck.

and whenever he caught you watching, he would stop, take the cigarette from his lips, and close the book, setting it aside as if he were dedicating all his attention to you for those brief minutes in which you passed by him, waved, crossed the street, and went inside; blushing, and with ragged breath. so pathetic that you felt stupid.

maybe he knew. or maybe that was very presumptuous of you. to assume he knew what he was doing to you, that your head was becoming so disorganized that even you couldn't name what it was, other than that it was wrong.

that was why you had started to pray every night that jake could find a real job and move away, asking that he be successful and move to a bigger city, far away. far from the church and far from where you could see him. and for that same reason, you would finish and go to bed crying because the words whispered weakly were never genuine. they were selfish and lying, and the angels would know.

one monday, you decided you would ignore him. that it was nonsense, that your lack of faith was dominating you and you couldn't go on like this. so, you headed to your nursing course which took place in the town clinic and which you could get to and from on foot.

on the way, you had seen him at a car parts store, but you didn't look more than enough to ignore him, letting him crane his neck out of the small shop watching you walk down the street. you had finished high school the previous year, and despite having taken some exams and sent some recommendation letters, you had never received any reply from any of the colleges; or at least that's what your father said.

you wanted to study medicine, and while you couldn't, you were content with the course miss marie taught in exchange for you helping with some patients during the week. you had already learned about sutures, stitches, wound cleaning, casting, dressings, and a host of other things. as a consequence, you ended up learning about medications and dosages and always heard from marie that you were an exemplary student and would surely do well in the real course.

and whenever she said this, a mix of sadness and joy formed in the pit of your stomach, tangling with your breakfast that you nearly threw up. you would never be able to go to college, not if you stayed here... not if you stayed under your father's watch, being swallowed by the monotony of this dead-end town and the church, ever fuller, ever more imposing.

when your break arrived, you asked to go to the bookstore on the same street and stayed there for half an hour, entertained with nursing and medicine books, tempting yourself every now and then and picking up some romance story to leaf through.

       "love"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"surrender"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"desire"

the words caught in the air quickly as your eyes scanned the yellowed pages always made the hair on your arms stand up. romance wasn't something real. and the only true love was the one that came from devotion to the lord. men and women shouldn't touch for pleasure; that was reserved for marriage and procreation according to divine laws. but still, the words didn't disappear from your mind as you went back to work under the weakened heat of the setting sun.

"oh dear, are you back already? a young man stopped by and asked for you" you heard marie, stopping in your tracks, your body freezing, making you turn your head slowly toward her as she noted something in a small customer log, leaning on the counter. "jake! he said he needed to talk to you, but didn't want to leave any message" she continued simply, taking a moment to land her eyes on you and smirk at your pale expression. "you know him, right?" she knit her brows and you nodded before swallowing hard and heading to the bandage room.

what could he possibly want with you? what could be so urgent that jake genuinely sought out the place where you worked? maybe it was about your father. or maybe he needed help at the church. maybe he wanted to say goodbye before finally leaving after five weeks of living there and standing out from everything around him.

maybe he wanted to warn you that he would tell your father, that he would tell of the times your eyes lingered too long on him, or how your cheeks flushed when he smiled at you when you looked at him through your bedroom window and he was in the flower beds. your stomach spiraled and you leaned against the cabinet next to you at the unreal possibility, feeling on the verge of fainting.

air failed you and you grabbed your own shirt, twisting the fabric in your fingers and pulling -wanting the fabric to unstick from your skin for a few seconds because it had to be that preventing you from filling your lungs with oxygen and not a damn panic attack - trying to breathe deeply and not succeeding for long minutes.

you needed to tell the pastor it wasn't that, that it wasn't what he thought, that you would never think... that you would never do it! that you would be better, that you would pray more, dedicate yourself more!

when you finally managed to come back to yourself, you grabbed your crossbody bag and returned to the front of the clinic, asking brokenly if you could leave work a little early that day, which was promptly accepted despite the older woman's concerned expression.

"see you to-" but you didn't hear her, already on the sidewalk, quickening your pace.

***

you had never walked so fast in your life. the slight cramp in your calf was ignored until you were on your home block, able to see the high church bell from there, where you walked with yearning. your house had the windows closed, but the car was in the garage, only meaning your father was at the church. you threw the hall doors open, and the echo of the whistling wind vibrated against the walls. your lips parted and closed uncertainly as you passed through the rows of long pews, illuminated by the sunbeams still entering through the high windows at that hour of the afternoon. you stepped onto the platform, your low sandal heels sounding on the floorboards, extending your hand to reach the office door.

but just as you opened it, another person came out of there, bumping their body against yours.

"sorry, i-" you began, slowly raising your eyes until they met the dark eyes of the sim boy. you took a step back, squeezing the bag strap. jake closed the door behind him and smiled simply, knitting his brows when you stared at him as if he had two heads.

"in a hurry?" he asked and you pressed your mouth into a line, shaking your head. "really? i could've sworn i heard your footsteps all the way here" he said and crossed his arms, making his forearms with noticeable veins suck in your attention for an instant.

"i need to talk to my father" you managed to say quietly, looking away from him. "he's not in. at least, not here" he told you, turning his face a bit to analyze you. "did your boss say i looked for you?" he asked, watching you chew the inside of your cheek before nodding. "is that why you left early?" he raised an eyebrow and let out a short laugh.

"n-not because of you..." the phrase came out direct, more direct than you intended, and he was perfectly aware you hadn't done it maliciously, but even so, he leaned over and placed his hand over his chest, letting out a dramatic "arrgh".

"didn't have to destroy me like that" he joked, but your posture didn't relaxed. your free hand gripped your long skirt and crumpled the fabric; this didn't go unnoticed by him either.

jake straightened up and ran his tongue over his teeth, looking around before going back to watching you, measuring your small, trembling body in front of him. "did you come to tell your father that i looked for you then? wow... such a good girl, huh?" he let out in a mocking bittersweet tone.

your eyes widened and you finally stared back at him, parting your lips and feeling your heart hammer against your rib cage. "so that's really it?" he held a shit-eating grin on his lips now, just amusing himself, but when you took a step back, indicating you'd run from there at the first chance, the boy decided to stop stalling, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out an envelope.

"the reason for looking for you was because this arrived for you, and... it seems to be something important" he handed you the letter with the college seal on the edge, pointing with his index finger.

the moment he spoke and you took the letter in your hands, your head took a while to process what that meant... or rather, what it could mean. you raised your eyes to him once more and he gestured to the paper in clear encouragement. you were feeling a bit of shame from the earlier exposure, but still... to finally have a response to the countless letters you had sent was truly exciting.

you closed your eyes for a few moments before opening the seal with erratic hands. your almond-shaped eyes scanned every detail, the sender's information, the college logos, the date, and your name written there.

"subject: admission decision and financial aid offer

congratulations! it is with great pleasure that we offer you admission to the class of-"

you stopped, not because you wanted to, but because your voice got choked up with a knot forming in your throat, making you bring your other hand to your mouth to cover it, unable to believe what you had just read.

your eyes were so wide that jake ended up laughing and leaning in to take it and finish reading for you. "thats awesome... like, with them funding a huge part of it?..." you stared at him, static. behind your eyes, your mind made a small movie of your life pass by until that moment. all the times you had worked hard on high school projects, the sleepless nights of study, the social actions that were always successful thanks to the church faithful. however, now that you had the result right there in your hands, didn't it seem a bit too much?

you remained quiet. the passing of time was just an illusion.

"what? you did not liked it?" the taller boy knit his brows and then you shook your head dejectedly, receiving the paper back and looking awkwardly at what was written. "no, i loved it. but... it's the furthest one of all..." you spoke softly at last, feeling your nose sting and eyes water, controlling the urge to cry in front of the other because so many humiliations in a row in one day would be hard to deal with.

"it's the chance of a lifetime, little one" jake added, but didn't force it more than that, resting one hand on your head and messing up your hair lightly. he didn't know exactly why, but judging by your earlier desperation and the not-so-gentle sermons the pastor used to give -which he could hear even from afar - he had some idea.

***

after the touch, jake had left you there. it had nothing to do with him anyway. you didn't know how much longer you had remained standing there; you only knew that when you left the church, the orange sky was gradually giving way to the black vastness of the night, while your father talked to one of the congregants at the front door. you had passed by them and greeted them politely, going inside and up the stairs to your room.

the week passed in the blink of any eye for you, your thoughts drifting far away. on the street you stumbled, at work you pricked yourself with scissors and needles, inattentive, earning your first scoldings from marie; you struggled to invent excuses not to eat dinner, preferring the pain of a growling stomach to sitting at the table with the pastor and having him ask about your day. and whenever you thought about sleeping to escape the hunger, the moment you laid your head on the pillow, you saw a crucifix nailed above the bed.

you didn't remember when that decoration had been nailed there, but you remembered once asking your 7th-grade classmates what they had for decorations on their walls. stars that glowed in the dark, band posters, original drawings, wallpaper - but not a damn beige wall with a single crucifix in the middle. wasn't it normal for a child to be able to decorate their room with... child things? wasn't it normal for children to be encouraged to have childhood interests? and the symbol weighed over you as if it weighed a ton, squeezing your diaphragm and making you so frustrated that you threw a pillow at the object, to no effect.

on friday, when you got up and went down for breakfast, you found the man there, with a cup of strong black coffee exhaling steam from the heat while he flipped through a newspaper. he didn't say good morning, and you breathed one out so quietly that the sound of the birds outside kept it from being heard. you served yourself cereal and milk, sitting at the furthest end of the table. he turned a page, wetting his fingertips with saliva, and you breathed shallowly, trying not to be noticed. too late. "make dinner today, and come down to eat" the thick, firm voice sounded, rhetorical and impenetrable. you nodded, even though he wouldn't see over the newspaper, and continued eating, swallowing with difficulty because you barely chewed so as not to make noise.

when you left the porch of the house, heading down the steps to the sidewalk, you were surprised by jake, who joined your walk.

"so... have made your decision yet?" he asked, hands in pockets, walking side by side.

"good morning... and no" you replied simply, avoiding eye contact with the taller man; looking at your feet walking in sync instead. jake sighed and then pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, putting one in his mouth and reaching for his lighter.

"do you mind?" he asked, and when you just looked at him for half a second before focusing elsewhere, he lit it, watching the tip burn as he took a slow drag. he blew the smoke to the opposite side. "you know those scholarships could give you access to a dorm, right? what's the problem with it being far?"

why was jake following you anyway? you rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand and shrugged. "if you want something that bad... why don't you do it?" his words parked in your head.

because james in his first chapter, verses fourteen through fifteen, said that each one is tempted by their own evil desire, being dragged away and enticed, and then after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin. that was why you couldn't decide for yourself, choose your own clothes, or wear makeup; it was why you didn't choose the decorations for your room even though you were nineteen years old, and why you couldn't let your will make you cross the country just to study if you could still be useful here. but jake wouldn't understand.

"is that what you would do if you were in my place?" you asked back, giving a timid smile and watching him study your expression - he thought you managed to look even cuter with your eyes puffy from sleep - as he slowly pulled the nicotine into his lungs, holding it and then letting it out bit by bit.

"if i were you, you wouldn't be asking what someone else would do" he replied confidently.

jake didn't have any appointments downtown, nor did he have any business there, but he still accompanied you to the front of the clinic, where he watched you go in quietly without saying anything else. he finished his cigarette right there, throwing the butt on the ground and crushing it with the sole of his boot.

marie asked you to make a splint for a little boy's finger that morning. the little guy had sprained his finger playing basketball in his garage, and every time you even brushed against the needle with the anesthesia, his eyes filled with tears. he was probably afraid, you thought, even though he wanted to appear brave. "did you know the mayor said they're going to build a sports court in the central plaza?" you commented, catching the little one's attention and seeing him shake his head no. "i heard all the children will be able to use it; doesn't that seem like a good opportunity to make friends?" you asked sweetly.

while the child thought and began to answer, you quickly gripped the anesthesia and applied it to the site. "ow!" he furrowed his brows, finally looking down and seeing the empty syringe. "you... already did it?" he blinked, confused and relieved at the same time. "uh-huh, and you didn't even notice" you breathed. "how did you do that?" he stared at you again with eyes shining with pure hope. "secret!" you winked and then grabbed the materials to make the splint.

"she probably cast a spell on me or something mommy, i swear!" that's what the kiddo said as he left the clinic accompanied by his mother, who just laughed at the silly assumptions. your boss gave you a playful little nudge, liking how you hadn't stopped smiling at the situation. after all, you had been strange all the other days, and feeling a bit of satisfaction with work was a great reason.

"you really have a gift" she pointed out and touched your shoulder. "by the way, i saw you were accompanied today... it was the guy from the other day..." the nurse continued. "are you two dating?" she asked as if she were asking about the weather.

your eyes widened and you denied it repeatedly, squeezing the small bag where you threw the dirty gauze and discarded the needle. "he... we-my father helped him... he's a newcomer". "oh. well, he definitely looks like one" she breathed before leaving you.

when you were alone in the room, you stopped for a few seconds, looking down and taking a deep breath.

you wanted to be able to say that the joy of having been good for the child with the hurt finger had remained for the rest of the day, but as soon as the clock struck five in the afternoon, you felt the anguish of the inevitable approaching. you packed your things slowly and even waited for marie to close the entrance so you could head home. if jake appeared and offered you a ride at that moment to anywhere far from there, you would accept it; you'd deal with the consequences of leaving your father waiting some other time. but no one appeared, and you were alone to face whatever was coming.

***

the bath? it had been a rupture in time disguised as a cloud of steam that passed without you noticing. you put on your light, long dress - which reached your ankles - and combed your hair before going down to make dinner.

your house had never been very well-lit, but in the past, there were still photos scattered around, some diplomas, both yours and your mother's, but your father had made sure to remove everything that reminded him of her. everything. except what he couldn't: the memory.

the humming of the refrigerator sounded louder than ever, making your internal organs want to coil up. the sound of the fire boiling the vegetable soup to thicken the broth served only as a second voice to the discordant music in the kitchen.

when it was seven in the evening, he appeared. dress shirt, polished shoes, pressed pants, and hair no longer so perfectly combed. an indifferent expression that you never knew was because he was at home or because he was seeing you. you exchanged silent glances, and he approached the dining table, which casually sat under the only light source between the living room and the kitchen. you served the plates and sat down, joining your hands and interlacing your fingers, closing your eyes to give thanks for the food.

"heavenly father, sanctify this meal which your hand has provided. may this food give us vigor to serve your kingdom with purity and obedience. amen" this made you press your lips together; he never thanked the one who prepared it.

the clinking of cutlery filled the void in the air, along with the sound of moderate chewing.

"so what happened that you lost your respect and appetite this week?" he was the one who started, cutting a piece of bread to dip in the soup. over the days you had considered telling him, taking a chance. you were almost convinced it wasn't worth it, if it hadn't been for that afternoon... you had been so happy to help, so content to see the softening expression in those child eyes.

"i received an acceptance letter, for next year's class..." you commented quietly, without the courage to look at your own parent.

"and what about it?" he returned, chewing the soaked slice of bread audibly.

"i thought... with the money i saved, and maybe finding a part-time job, i could support myself there. it's a full scholarship" oh, he didn't seem surprised.

your father continued eating, feeling your eyes slowly rising to him until he stopped abruptly, dropping the spoon on the plate. "i thought we had put an end to this discussion. that you would take the theology course in the neighboring town and help me with the church. that is the path the lord has been laying out for you..." the words came out serious.

"i made so many applications and we agreed to wait for a year, dad..." you furrowed your eyebrows.

"i didn't agree to wait a year. i never even agreed with this college story. do you know how hard it is? the sins, the ambition, the selfishness in those places? do you know what it's like to be alone in a place like that? especially you, who has never seen any of it?" his voice began to change and he moved his mouth irritably. "that's your wish? to become mundane and dirty? to disappoint god because you couldn't resist to your inner demons?" he asked, staring, his fist clenched on the wooden table.

"it doesn't have to be like that! i would only go to study!" you defended yourself, feeling a bitterness rise in your throat.

"study? do you want to look at me straight in the eyes and ask me to believe this when you can barely keep your legs closed to the garden boy?!" you widened your eyes and parted your lips... how could he say something so gross and unrealistic when all you had done was accept a simple flower?

the first tear ran down your cheek stealthily, without you noticing; the others that followed, you didn't have the strength to contain. "mom would want me to pursue this..." your voice crawled, weak and trembling. but to him, it sounded like the worst of offenses, one that tore the armor he had created many years ago.

"repeat what you've just said" his tone was dark now, loaded with a veiled hate he felt for your existence.

when his chair scraped back and his body rose, you swallowed your sobs, looking at him. "dad, p-please... i didn't intend t-"

the impact of the slap on your face was strong enough to make your ear ring and your neck be thrown to the side. the welt immediately rose to the surface of your skin. the pain made you lose your breath, but he didn't care, grabbing your hair and making you look at him as he leaned down to be at your height. "you disgust me" he said sharply, spitting the words. "i pray to god forgive your sins, but you are helpless" and with that, he let you go, making your body collapse into the chair, and he left the room, heading to the second floor with heavy steps.

you hugged your own body while the crying was overwhelming, squeezing your eyes shut and shrinking back.

when times like this arrived, to whom should you turn? your father thought you were disgusting, and god must have had an opinion not much different. your friends were limited to the young people who attended church on sundays and occasionally went to the group, but never really got close. the rest of your family lived miles away, and unfortunately, you were foolish and inexperienced, just as the older man had said.

you stood up limply and put the unfinished plates of soup in the sink, almost letting the heavy dishes fall and shatter on the floor; you turned off the light and instead of going to your room, you went out the front door, feeling the cold breeze and the yellow streetlights bathe your figure.

you walked across the porch and across the front garden until you were on the sidewalk, starting to walk without a certain direction. maybe you'd walk around the block, maybe you'd go to the small park nearby and sit on one of the swings until your body got used to the sadness and the night went back to being like any other.

***

the tears still fell, less agitated, yet colder as the wind chilled them against your flushed cheeks. your swollen nose sniffled, and you pressed your lips together, dwelling on the words you had heard.

jake was coming back from one of the freelance jobs he had picked up at a construction site. in the pickup, the music played low, and he tapped the steering wheel every now and then, attentive to the dark streets of the little town that went to sleep too early. he would have continued if he hadn't spotted something. honestly, with that thin, light dress that fluttered in the skirt from the wind, he might have thought it was a ghost... a very pretty and well-behaved one, though. the boy smiled as he flashed his high beams once, slowing down and rolling down the window to stick his head out. "hey church girl!" he called, and your silhouette stopped. but when your face turned to him, the smile jake had died almost instantly.

he stopped the vehicle right there and got out in a hurry. loose pants held up by a worn belt, a stained tank top, a jacket - which he was already taking off to wrap around you - and beautifully disheveled hair.

"what happened? what are you doing here?" he asked, looking down, without asking permission to touch your face and make you look at him. you were a mess of tears, snot, and there was still that mark on your cheek that he quickly identified. you didn't answer, but when the gentle weight of the leather jacket wrapped around your bare shoulders and jake's thumbs wiped your tears, you looked at him.

"jake..." you called, testing the name on the tip of your tongue. that, as incredible as it seems, was the first time you breathed the combination of letters.

"yes? i'm here." his expression was one of concern. but how could he feel that for someone like you? whom he barely knew or spoke to; maybe you were so miserable that you really didn't realize it. "do you want me to do something?" he asked, shifting his eyes from yours to your cheek before coming back.

"no..." you denied. you could have pulled away from him, touched his wrists so he would let go, but you didn't. "i was just... walking..." your last shred of judgment made you speak.

"no, you were crying and walking without direction... that's not just walking. what happened?" god, he was so insistent.

"my dad... we talked, about the college..." you explained, and jake shook his head, squeezing your face between his large, calloused hands. he could picture what had happened; he wasn't an idiot, he knew exactly the kind of guy the pastor was. they were all the same, so good for the community, titling themselves messengers of god or some shit like that, using other people's money to promote themselves, spreading lies, taking away dreams, having disgusting secrets.

"i'm not letting you go back home today, sorry" the boy concluded, letting go of your cheeks and holding your hand, dragging you so he could take you to the truck.

without another word, he opened the passenger door and lifted you by the waist as if you weighed nothing, sitting you there and helping with the belt. your faces were close, but your eyes were too cloudy for you to see the details of the taller man's profile. you saw him go around before getting in the driver's side and sitting there to start it again; the roar of the engine breaking the silence of the street.

he didn't say where he was taking you, and you didn't ask either. for someone who fled from him as the devil flees from the cross, you were placing a lot of trust there. in less than twenty minutes, during which you had exchanged at most two words - with him asking if you were still cold and you denying it - you had arrived at a bar where the blinking neon sign read "jj's bar." the facade was nothing fancy; on the contrary, plain walls with some posters announcing live music and cheap beer, the light of the sign in shades of yellow and red making the mixture of colors bathe the cracked sidewalk.

jake offered you his hand for you to get out, and you avoided eye contact when you did, lips pressed together. when you entered, the atmosphere was strangely welcoming. a varnished counter with several stools along its length. floorboards of wood that creaked slightly when stepped on, tables scattered about, walls covered in posters, flyers, ads, photos, and tacky wallpaper in shades of wine and brown. behind the counter, a young man was drying some glass cups, and a large cabinet held various glasses, containers, and drinks. a pool table, some slot machines, a jukebox.

"jake jakey..." the barman spoke and smiled, leaning on the counter as you approached.

jake smiled, touching the small of your back subtly as if he wanted to reassure you that everything was fine; he also extended his hand, shaking the guy's on the other side. "my friend, jay..." he breathed and followed jay's gaze, which fell slowly onto you.

"and you, young lady?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, friendly. you breathed out softly and nodded.

"i already told you about her..."

"oh... so you are the preach-"

"ahem" jake cleared his throat and the guy stopped, staring at him and getting the message.

"well, make yourselves comfortable. for you, i already know, but how about you, sweetheart, what'll it be?" - jake rolled his eyes in disbelief at the blatant flirting – the park waited for your answer, but the only thing you could do was look up, searching for a menu... like in the diners, right?

"oh-i see... what's your age?"

"nineteen" jay smiled gently in your direction, shifting his attention to the boy beside you; what kind of communication was that?

you watched him grab a bottle from the cabinet and serve a glass halfway, putting in ice and tapping the surface in front of the sim boy before pushing it toward him.

you watched jake take the glass and gulp - his prominent adam's apple bobbing - wrinkling his nose slightly before staring at you. "what?" he murmured, and you shook your head, embarrassed to be caught staring.

minutes later jay placed a glass with a pink mixture and a little umbrella on top. "its cherry syrup with white vermouth by the way, that's the lightest i can do" he threw the hand-drying cloth over his shoulder and crossed his arms. you shouldn't drink. you didn't know these people, you didn't know your limit, and you were far from home, but the only thing you did was look to the sides, searching for any sign. a cross, a saint, someone... any sign that indicated you would be punished later.

when you didn't find one, you looked at the glass, closing your small fingers around it and testing the weight before lifting it to your lips. the first sip wasn't bad, the smell was sweet and the taste even more so, but at the very end the aftertaste caused a sting. both pairs of eyes analyzed you and you covered your mouth after placing the glass back on the wood. "it's good... different, but good," you said and saw both of them smiling.

"you don't have to drink it all," jake breathed and let his eyes travel over you. your body disappeared in his jacket, and you held onto the fabric of your dress skirt as usual. were you always afraid?

you just nodded... without much to say. it was the first time you had entered a bar, you were sure you shouldn't be there, but you didn't feel threatened. the music wasn't loud and it was pleasant to hear, making your feet suspended from the stool swing lightly while you fingered the sweating glass. "have things always been this way?", jake took advantage of the moment when his colleague, and owner of the bar, moved away to talk.

and you caught yourself trying to remember when was the last time your father had acted like a real father and not like a vigilante. "no... it's hard to remember, though... after my mother passed away, he doesn't seem to be the same person" you breathed.

jake looked down and bit his lip. he was terrible at consoling and it wasn't as if he had never had a girl crying in his arms, but definitely the reason wasn't the same. "and you never thought about leaving?", he continued and saw you sip the drink once more before looking at him.

"wouldn't that be selfish?", you returned and he knit his brows.

selfish...? the word made the older boy swallow hard, tapping the counter once before getting up from the stool and helping you do the same. he held your shoulders, placing your body in front of his and guiding you to one of the game machines.

"i don't know how to play" you looked up from below and he just smiled, taking a token from his pocket and positioning himself behind you.

"you don't have to know everything to do it, you know?", his voice had a soft and more relaxed timbre now. "you just have to want to" jake carefully touched your wrists, indicating where you should hold. the machine's crank and the colored buttons that every time they were pressed made the character on the screen release some kind of different animation.

the dark-haired boy was hunched over, his face next to yours, cheeks almost brushing, explaining what you could do. your brain tried, struggled to pay attention, but it was so much information... blue button to attack, his perfume invading your nostrils, walking forward with the joystick, the warm touch of his hands over yours, white button to start again, his minty breath blowing against your neck while he spoke... you bit your lip and confirmed when he asked if you were ready.

you watched the characters on the screen casting powers and trading funny blows. in high school some boys mentioned this. it was fun, although you didn't understand the rules. you did exactly as the older boy said, managing somehow to defeat the opponent. when the 'winner' text appeared there you smiled, but you smiled even more when jake celebrated, squeezing your arms and shaking you carefully, just drawing a soft giggle from you. "you're good at it!", he straightened up and pinched your chin lightly.

he spent three more tokens, letting you test other characters and showing you how it was done; proceeding to lose all the times and making a tired face when the last fight ended and the machine flashed ‘insert your ticket’. "okay... that was a first, i'm actually good, seriously," he defended himself and you gave a breathy smile, enjoying yourself.

when your crying was nowhere to be seen and jake's presence had totally overshadowed the night's events, you could finally notice him. black, wavy hair, a mouth drawn with a heart-shaped cupid's bow. there was something magnetically soft about him that made it impossible to look away, a perfect harmony between the sharp, aristocratic line of his nose and the warm glow of his dark eyes. his lip curved into a lazy side smile, the kind of smile you knew your father would call temptation, and for the first time, you understood exactly why people gave in to it.

you passed in front of the old jukebox and stopped, observing the varnished details and the little letters inside, showing which tracks were available.

"do you like music?", he asked, approaching as well.

"i... don't listen much" and even so your eyes vibrated at the equipment in front of you, curious, exploring.

"pick one" he said, alternating his gaze between you and the machine, biting his lip, anxious to know what it would be.

"i don't know any of these...", you denied laughingly and he rolled his eyes, putting the coin there and looking at you expectantly.

so many names, you ended up choosing the most different of all, drawing a little laugh from him. jake and you looked at each other while iris by the goo goo dolls started to play. he held your hand and took a few steps back, taking you to one of the more open spaces in the bar, before joining your bodies, circling your waist carefully, smoothly sliding his fingertips along your wrist, making you hold him by the shoulders, guiding your body in a slow dance.

your heart was galloping, and your cheeks were feverish, while your expression didn't hide your mixed shock and embarrassment, feeling your lip twitch as you searched for words and gave up ridiculously.

jake smiled from the side, making you rest your head on his chest. he accompanied your small body moving slowly with his, feeling a twinge in his chest when you rubbed your face lightly against him, sniffling against his shirt. your thin and small fingers squeezing so lightly on his shoulders that he was afraid the minimum contraction of muscles could hurt you. the melody swayed the pressed bodies, and for the minutes the music box played, it was just you two there.

even when the last guitar chords played, you slowly pulled away, staring at him sweetly. you wanted to ask what that had been - which would be a mess because not even jake knew - but you moistened your lips, pulling back your arms again, smiling awkwardly before hugging your own body.

"thank you...", you said softly and he froze, his eyes darkening even more, watching your body take a few steps back, testing the subtle distance; with no intention of really running away now.

the boy blinked slowly and as soon as you turned to go back to the counter he stretched his body, holding your arm and making you turn again. but when your eyes met, he took a few moments to say: "i would never think that selfishness is being yourself. i would never think that selfishness is prioritizing yourself" the answer finally came, making you fix your eyes on him. "and if it is, then maybe being selfish isn't so bad, right?", his touch softened, making his arm slide away again, but the electricity of the contact remained there, like a promise that this was only the first step out of your bubble.

and you could swear he was approaching millimetrically when jay's voice sounded nearby. "guys, sorry to interrupt, but, we are closing"

***

the pickup's engine finally went silent, leaving only the popping of the cooling metal and the sound of the wind cutting through the tall grass of the lookout. down there, the city was just a tangle of distant lights that didn't seem to belong to the same world you were in. a parallel world where he had dragged you to spend the night.

jake lowered the tailgate and helped you up, spreading a thick blanket over the metal so you'd be comfortable. lying side by side, the sky seemed larger than you had ever seen from the locked windows of home. you talked - as if in all those years the words had just been waiting for someone to ask and care - you told him everything and anything he asked, from your favorite color to the last book you had read.

you told him about the silent rules of your routine, about the expectations that weighed on your shoulders and about how you wanted to be able to do something without disappointing the people around you. jake, on the other hand, was a presence of mysteries and calm silences. he listened with an almost voracious attention, eyes fixed on your profile, on how your mouth moved and tightened when you thought, absorbing every fragment of your story to understand how you still managed to be so intact. it was fascinating.

"and you?" you asked, turning your face to him, feeling the early morning dew prickle your skin. "do you have a religion? do you believe in god?"

jake let out a soft chuckle, a sound that vibrated in his chest before reaching the full lips he moistened. he turned on his side, propping his head on his hand to face you. "i don't believe in that image they sell out there. altars, punishments..." he shrugged, and the glow of his eyes seemed denser under the moonlight. and at the same time his sincerity frightened you, it made you more and more interested. "i have my own convictions. i believe in what i can feel, what i can touch...", jake let his eyes slide over your body for a few milliseconds.

a shiver that wasn't from cold ran down your spine.

"don't you think god- that he would hate us? for being here? for thinking like this?" the question came out small, loaded with a reverential fear, and a guilt that was present for as long as you could remember.

jake smiled, dangerously docile. "god could never hate a girl like you" he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a dark velvet. "you're just so... pure"

the word seemed to burn, entering through your ears, circling your whole body and stopping right in your chest where your heart accelerated. you sat up on the truck bed, hugging your knees against your chest and hiding your face between them for a moment. the silence in the air became thick, and not even the chirping of the crickets was enough to appease your feelings.

"i... don't feel that way anymore" you confessed with a slightly trembling voice; struggling not to cry again since your puffy eyelids couldn't handle another round.

jake sat up right after, his movement being fluid and, at the same time, careful. he didn't look away; on the contrary. his hand went up to your shoulder, warm fingers contrasting with the cold jacket, caressing the fabric that covered your shoulder with a slowness that seemed to want to uncover what was underneath all those layers.

"look at me" he asked, pulling your shoulder with a gentle firmness so you would stare back.

seeing you like that - with damp eyes, parted lips and this readiness to let yourself be carried away - jake felt his stomach twist. there was something sickly and stimulating in the way you seemed breakable in his hands, even without him touching you properly. his desire wasn't just physical; it was the desire to be the one who would untie all your knots, the one who would see your chastity transform into something that only belonged to him, that only existed in his presence.

he repeated the motion from the bar, but now there was no one to interrupt.

jake kept leaning in, the space between you disappearing while the smell of mint and leather enveloped you little by little. you knew exactly what was about to happen and your mind sought your father's warnings, the moral lessons, the sunday sermons, the sins listed in old books... but your body didn't move one bit. your eyes closed, and you held your breath without noticing, waiting for the meeting of lips in a simple kiss. his mouth warm, contrasting with your cold lips.

this was your first kiss, surrendered so naturally to jake sim that it didn't feel wrong. his large and hand held the side of your face, long fingers getting lost among the strands of hair and his thumb caressing your cheekbone, a tender possessiveness that anchored you there. at the beginning, it was a dry, exploratory contact, just the warmth of the mucous membranes recognizing each other, a sensation that made your stomach turn from the novelty.

with the passing of seconds, the pressure increased. jake didn't force it; he just offered. he parted his lips against yours, letting the tip of his tongue provoke the contour of your mouth, a silent invitation he anxiously waited to be accepted. your inexperience screamed, but instinct spoke louder. when you finally gave in, allowing the tongues to meet for the first time, a short gasp escaped your throat making the older boy sniff in approval.

jake noticed your hesitation and didn't allow you to feel lost. he guided, dictating the rhythm, while his free hand sought your wrist with delicacy making you position your hand on his shoulder, encouraging your fingers to seek the support they needed to pull closer. with the contact firm, the kiss became needy, an urgency that seemed to consume the oxygen around, and a kind of magnet making both drag closer to each other; your thigh very nearly climbing over his leg.

inside your head, chaos tried to organize itself. memorized verses about temptation and severe warnings tried to emerge, but were immediately buried. there was no room for guilt when every inch of your body responded to his with a frightening intensity. morality was a language you didn't speak anymore. now, your brain could only process the tangible reality: the taste of him.

when he took his hand to your waist, entering the jacket he himself had lent you and you startled at the rougher and more direct touch, with lips peeling off his before seeking them again, jake pulled away suddenly, clearing his throat and taking his hand from there, laughing awkwardly and shaking his head. "fuck, i'm sorry...", he breathed low, not knowing for sure what he was asking for, but making you come back to the surface too, just as confused, blushing and swallowing the saliva in your mouth, biting your lip still leaning towards him. "you've been drinking...", he explained calmly, passing his eyes over the girl, the shiny lips, the straight neckline of the messy dress and exposing one of your collarbones, the breathing through the mouth.

he had been drinking too, but your courage to speak had been entirely spent with the seal, so you just nodded, turning your face away and settling better inside the jacket.

the rest of the night was filled with small talk, clumsy touches, and without you noticing, the sun rose on the horizon, making you realize that was also your first night away from home. for a few minutes, jake had dozed off by your side, the wavy locks falling perfectly over the sculpted face, his chest rising and falling peacefully, reminding her that he had rescued and sheltered her.

that was the problem, jake made it seem good to go against everything she knew.

***

"submit yourselves to god; resist the devil, and he will flee from you. do not let yourselves fall into temptation, my children. the enemy is always lurking looking for openings, especially in those of weak heart" the pastor spoke, the bible near his chest while he walked from one side to the other, but your head was far away. you were outside the church, sitting on the pickup with the peeling hood, stained pants and denim jacket.

when was it like this anyway?

jake sim was lean and sneaky. accompanying you every morning to work on foot - with an arm that wrapped your shoulders and a mouth that whispered idiotic things just to make you laugh -, picking you up and suddenly changing the path to some place you didn't yet know, whether it was a bridge with a beautiful view or some field. poking your shoulder when he passed by you just to see you looking for him while he moved away with a playful smile on his lips. he also threw stones at your window at night when you were about to sleep, and as soon as you looked he made a gesture with his hand calling you to come down in secret, without your father knowing.

the kisses and experimental touches were becoming more and more urgent. your cheeks burned every time he got excited and brought his mouth down to your neck, whispering how much your scent drove him crazy.

it was even worse when he grabbed your waist tightly, or pressed you against some surface - usually the small room where he was staying, at the back of the church, right after the sermon ended. but, he never went beyond, sometimes stopping when both were altered and breathless from making out, with hands clinging to the barriers of clothes or to the hair of each other's napes.

little by little the questions started to get more intimate... he no longer wanted to know about your favorite things, but about what you were curious about, or how much you liked his kisses, or even how much you were willing to go with him.

god, and you were.

you bit your lip, eyes widening as you noticed what you were thinking inside the church.

when your eyes returned to the room your father stared at you firmly for a few brief seconds before returning to talk.

you had even asked your former friend lisa what you should do days ago - during the youth group’s pause; anything that would make you stop incessantly thinking about the outsider boy.

both had talked under the stairs in a whispered tone that could only be interpreted looking eye to eye: "even the greatest of sins god is willing to forgive if you are really sorry" the girl told you, staring with an impartial warmth. "that's what torments me. when i commit this sin, i don't feel bad... i feel good. better than i have ever been" had been your answer.

how could you feel sorry?

the moment the bells rang, your feet firmed on the ground, getting up hurriedly and going to help with the organization as always. books put away, candles extinguished, and this time you even managed to leave along with the other faithful who crowded near the exit, talking and saying goodbye, it was when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and pull you from among the crowd to the side of the church. jake looked around before holding your cheek and depositing a loud smooch on your mouth, taking a little note and putting it in the palm of your hand before winking and leaving without saying more.

you gave a breathy smile, feeling like a fool. your shoes brushing against each other while opening the yellowish paper to find his handwriting.

"no work tomorrow. we have a date. meet me at 10am, you know where", with a hurried heart scribble adorning the upper corner of the post-it.

he was so secretive and unpredictable, making your belly vibrate with so many butterflies. anyway, you ran home to call marie's phone and warn her about a persistent pain in the wrist that would prevent you from working the next morning.

***

the sound of closet doors was the only noise to be heard throughout the second floor at that hour of the morning. you slipped into your white skirt and donned the blouse with romantic sleeves before stepping into your heavy shoes over your socks. your hair remained loose and your backpack was slung on in a hurry before you left the room and headed down the stairs, running into your father halfway down.

"haven't you left for work yet?" he asked, stopping in his tracks and furrowing his brow.

"i’m late today... i’m on my way!" you dodged his body and finished the descent, heading toward the door to leave.

you couldn't allow yourself to be caught, and you knew he would look out the window for at least a full minute, which made you walk slowly, mentally counting to sixty so that the steps heading down the street would suddenly change direction, crossing from one sidewalk to the other, leading you to the back of the church where the pickup truck was parked.

when you opened the passenger door to get in, jake met you with a smile, unable to help but notice you had dressed up, letting you fasten your belt and adjust your shoulders and posture in the seat, oblivious to how he watched you, until you weren't anymore and turned to him.

"what?"

he bit his lip. "you look pretty" he replied sincerely, basking in your flushed cheeks and the way you shyly looked away. he started the engine and shifted into gear before pulling away.

"where are you taking me?" you asked as the landscape outside the window gradually changed. he had taken a road that passed through several fenced pastures - some with animals, others with trees, and even those that held nothing but a green vastness of grass.

"you're so curious. i wanted it to be a surprise" he said laughingly, eyes never leaving the road.

"that's not fair... you're always doing that" you retorted, though you weren't truly bothered.

"just know you're going to like it, hm?" you nodded, fiddling with one of the buttons on your blouse.

when they were about 3 minutes away from arriving, jake told you to close your eyes, grumbling playfully when you tried to cheat by squinting through your fingers. when he whispered softly that he really wanted to make it a surprise, you stopped teasing and kept your hands over your eyes until the car was parked and he said you could open them.

and even so, when jake spoke and your eyes opened, it was impossible to believe.

from inside, the passenger window - slightly fogged and covered by a thin layer of road dust - framed the flowery field like an old, faded painting. the landscape unfolded in waves of moss-green and soft hues of lavender and white. as the engine cooled, the high sun poured a radiant light over the vast space, turning the rows of pine trees in the distance into dark green silhouettes against the blue sky.

it was beautiful, one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen. jake laughed at how you suddenly stared at him.

"how did you find this place?" you asked before putting your hand on the handle and opening the door to get out. the soft grass cushioned your weight, making it feel like you were stepping on a thin quilted layer. you bit your lip with a childish giggle and looked around. there were some fences toward the side the truck had passed, indicating the property likely had an owner.

"i came here to fish one day" he said, passing by you to get something from the truck bed.

you took a few steps and crouched down, looking at the colorful flowers more closely. so beautiful that you were afraid to touch them and end up ruining them. "i prepared something for us today..." you heard him and turned to see what he was carrying: a blanket and a basket, making you furrow your brow in amusement.

"what is this?" you stood up and went over.

"well, you said you'd never had a picnic, so..." jake shrugged, playing it cool, even though he was hoping for the surprise to be good.

he did everything, from finding a spot to spread the blanket to taking several jars of fruit, bread, and sweets out of the basket, looking your way every now and then as you followed him with your hands behind your back and a curious expression. it was still so unbelievable that jake was even there, that he wanted to get to know you, or fulfill your wishes. he didn't belong in that place - the free way he carried himself, the hair falling over his eyes, the tanned skin, the calloused hands - he stood out from everything and everyone, a natural attraction, almost as if you were tempted to look at him and desire him.

you smiled compassionately before kneeling beside him and touching his face, making jake stop, turn to you, and touch your waist.

"is everything okay? did you like it? you can tell me if you didn't, i need to know..."

you didn't answer with words, but held the back of his neck and leaned in to seal the older boy's full lips, enjoying the warmth and softness for a few seconds, catching jake off guard as it was the first time you had initiated something like that.

he had a funny look on his face when you pulled apart, like someone who had just discovered a funny secret. "i really like it, thank you" you whispered, and he stole one more little kiss before pulling you to sit on his lap, proceeding to show you everything he had brought: strawberries, pancakes with honey, a bottle of coffee.

***

time by his side seemed to flow in a different way, a soft, warm current that carried you without you feeling the need to fight it; or perhaps, you were ignoring your internalized morality, because living was more important. there, in the flowery field with the sound of the stream in the distance, the world outside was a pale memory you didn't miss at all. you surrendered with an ease that never failed to scare you, but jake sim's touch was a constant invitation to simply be.

what had started as light play, between laughter and distracted touches while eating, shifted in intensity when his body ended up over yours on the picnic blanket; he had a hand on each side of your face, avoiding letting his weight fall on you, and his eyes minutely searched your expressions to know if it was time.

the seconds in which you just looked at each other were a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of birds and the wind blowing freely. jake leaned in, as a test, and began to kiss you slowly - an almost lazy affection for a day like that, exploring your lips without haste, without the urgency of excitement. he nibbled on your bottom lip and whispered against the sensitive skin how good your mouth tasted.

but the rhythm changed as you reacted. your short gasps and the way your small hands sought the back of his neck once more, pulling him closer, began wearing down the self-control he was trying to maintain. his hands moved up, outlining your waist and messing with your clothes, his thumbs tracing the path of your protruding ribs just below the curve of your breasts, while your legs tangled together, seeking more contact, more heat.

the mood was cut sharply by a dry sound.

heavy steps against the earth, the violent rustling of vegetation, and a sharp animal grunt of pain.

you both stopped.

jake froze with his lips still brushing the skin of your collarbone where he had been licking just before, while your eyes widened, your heart racing now for a completely different reason than the second before.

from behind one of the nearby bushes, the figure emerged suddenly, piercing eyes checking if you were a threat to its hunt... it wasn't the graceful red fox from children's books, but an animal with dirty caramel fur, rustic and opaque, eyes fixed on both of you as it crossed the field. its snout was stained a bright red, contrasting with the body of a small white rabbit it carried clenched between its teeth; the small animal still spasmed, an agonizing reflex movement that made blood run even more down the fox's jaw.

the scene was ugly, pitiless, and mortal. there, under the late afternoon sun and surrounded by flowers, nature displayed its carnivorous face, reminding you that life and death shared the same space - exactly like the innocence you tried to maintain and the desire jake awakened in you.

"don't be afraid" jake whispered, a side smile forming as he saw your jugular jump with the erratic heartbeat. "it's natural, it means the fox will manage to survive for a few more days... nothing more than that" and for some reason, he didn't seem to be talking only about the animals. the words didn't do their part in making you calmer; instead, you swallowed with difficulty, entering a complicated internal dissonance.

maybe god had ambiguous plans for certain creatures. maybe creation wasn't just about green pastures, miraculous healings, and benevolence, but about this silent, cruel gear that didn't ask before turning. you thought you weren't in a position to judge; after all, who were you to understand the logic behind survival? maybe these creatures had some idea of what their destinies would be, or maybe they were completely oblivious to it, living and dying without ever understanding why.

it was this perception of the frivolity of raw life that made your hair stand on end and your throat go dry. an existential dread creeping up your spine. the fragility of the kit was your own fragility. but jake remained there, his voice steady and his body still warm against yours, as if that carnage were merely the natural backdrop for what you were doing.

"it's okay to feel sad, though... but we can't interfere" he murmured, and the way he accepted it without looking away seemed, in a way, engaging, making you face him again with tearful eyes. "jake" you called, and he smiled, brushing the tip of his nose against your neck, moving up until he was staring back at you. "can we continue in the car?" the shy words left your trembling lips.

oh? he knew exactly what that was.

he understood that transition; it was the violence of nature, strange and inevitable, that, instigated carnal acts. it was the most primitive emotional escape, the one that seeks the warmth of life immediately after being confronted with the coldness of death. the type of surrender that is condemned by all doctrines, but is the only possible response to instinct.

even so, he didn't hesitate. jake held you in his lap with disconcerting ease, one of his large hands firm on your butt as he carried you to the truck, while you wrapped yourself around his torso.

with his free hand, he opened the door and tossed you into the front seat, onto that continuous leather upholstery that eliminated any barrier between you. as soon as he got in and closed the door, the silence of the cabin was broken by the sound of your small, skittish hands reaching for his face. you gripped his cheeks hard, pulling him into a kiss loaded with want, as if every second of waiting were torture.

the kisses were deep and dense. you both grumbled and gasped against each other's mouths, a duel of tongues and teeth taking place. when you sucked his full lower lip, jake felt a snap of urgency. he pulled away just enough to get rid of his jacket and shirt, one piece following the other, revealing the warm skin under the light filtered through the windows. you blushed, eyes trailing down slowly, leading your fingers in an almost experimental way across his six-pack, mapping the defined muscles before looking up to meet him.

the eye contact didn't last long before you went back to kissing in an animalistic and needy way. jake moved his lips down to your slender neck, sucking the skin with controlled strength, leaving reddish marks. his hands slid without haste but with intention, moving down your goosebump-covered arms, squeezing your thin waist and tracing your hips until they found their way under the linen skirt. the rough touch of his fingertips scratching your rounded thighs made your whole body tense.

suddenly, in an agile movement, he reversed positions. jake pulled you onto his lap, feeling the weight of your body on his, and parted his lips when you let out an innocent little moan that seemed to echo inside him, breaking what remained of his last gram of self-control. "fuck, babe, i swear i'm trying... trying so hard to take my time with you, but you're just so hot" he whispered against your shoulder, where the sleeve of your blouse had slipped down.

"it's okay... you don't have to right now... i want it too" his head was about to explode.

"say that again..." he asked, holding your chin and sliding his thumb across your lip.

"i want you."

jake felt an electric current through his own spine at the words, holding the back of your neck firmly and invading your mouth in a messy, lingering tongue kiss. his experienced hands unbuttoned your blouse and pushed the fabric open before helping you take it off immediately reaching for your soft skin, breasts held in the bra decorated with a bow.

he bit his lip before using a single finger to pull the cup down, finding your shy, peaked nipple there. his dark eyes, almost begging, stared at you and you nodded.

he captured the small point and sucked with intent, circling it with his tongue before sucking as if he wanted to draw something from it. he closed his eyes, concentrated on what he was doing, playing with the breast between his lips while one of his hands went to the clasp on your back to open it. when he felt the weight of the breast in his mouth, he became even more invested, hollowing his cheeks as he encompassed even more of the soft flesh around the areola.

when he let go of the nipple, it was red and completely wet, using his index finger to flick it while his mouth already moved toward the other. your low moans and the way your body shivered over his did nothing to help the erection jake had in the confines of his jeans. he bit the tip of the peak when you squeezed his shoulder and adjusted yourself in his lap, practically grinding there. he returned to your lips, but didn't kiss now.

"hmm more…" he asked softly and you swallowed, feeling feverish just looking at him. "w-what?" you asked confused, but furrowed your brow and looked down with a weakened expression when he guided your hips to grind.

"jake..."

"you're going to drive me crazy..." he gasped through gritted teeth.

jake helped you out of the skirt and his eyes stayed fixed on the panties you wore - they had some lace ruffles near the elastic and were completely transparent in the front, betraying how wet you were. "shit... look at this" he moved his hand there, pressing his thumb exactly where it seemed wettest, feeling your nails prick his shoulder. "do you even know what this means?" his eyebrows knit as he looked at you again, leaning his body until his lips were brushing your ear. "your body wants me so much it's preparing you to receive me... isn't that cute?" he licked your lobe.

but he couldn't just fuck you in the damn pickup; he might be whatever he was, but he still thought of your well-being - of the fact that you were virgin and delicate and that putting you against the dashboard while he stretched you with his cock wouldn't be the best of experiences... so the boy smiled wide, turning his head thinking. "have you ever touched yourself?" he questioned, keeping his voice low and engaging, waiting for you to deny it. "not even once? not even in the shower?"

"jake..." you pleaded, embarrassed; god, he really liked how your eyes got low and avoidant when you were cornered. he bit his bottom lip and tucked a strand of your hair that hung behind your ear, running his index finger down your jaw, neck, the space between your breasts... until he was near your lower abdomen.

"i want you to touch yourself for me..." he breathed, an order so soft it sounded like a request.

you stared at him lost, almost as if at a crossroads between accepting quickly and denying for fear of doing it wrong. "sshh, it's okay... i will guide you" and jake was making it so much harder.

your mind knew, even before you did, that it was wrong... he wasn't promised to you, you hadn't prayed together before, the pastor hadn't approved - or didn't know you were seeing each other this way - everything you shouldn't do or give in to... so why were you bringing your hand down there? why were your lips trembling when your fingers felt the moisture of the soaked fabric?

"uh uh... inside the panties" jake corrected, pulling the elastic of the undergarment so you could slide your hand inside. "describe what you're feeling for me..."

pressing your lips together, wavering and closing your eyelids trying to concentrate, your fingers wandered through your folds, feeling them slippery. there was the entrance, where a portion of lubrication literally wet your phalanges, and when it moved up... right there, hidden and sensitive, was your point of nerves, pulsing. "say it, baby..." jake implored, pressing his forehead to yours.

"i-it's soft... and squishy. and it's so hot, jake... please..." your eyes met his closely now. he gave a breathy smile.

"do you feel that spot?" he asked, ignoring your plea for help.

“y-yes"

"good... rub it for me... slowly" he almost whispered, pulling away from you again and looking down. if the sight of your flushed cheeks, peaked nipples, and contracting stomach didn't make him come in his own pants, he would be fine.

jake noticed when your posture became more restless, when your hips began to involuntarily seek more pressure. "now slide your fingers down slowly... it's so messy, right? you're a messy girl..." he said, his raspy voice being the only thread keeping you connected to reality. "try to put a finger inside."

as soon as the digit slipped into the damp slit, a loud, labored moan escaped your lips. in the next minute, the weight of reality crashed down on you; shame hit you like a punch and you tried to stop, withdrawing your hand while staring at him with tearful eyes, seeking some kind of exit from a situation so intimate, so embarrassing.

"did i say to stop?" his tone changed, becoming firmer, almost authoritative, clicking his tongue and letting a sliver of his impatience show through. before you could pull away, he grabbed your wrist, keeping your hand exactly where it was, preventing your escape. the eye contact was intense, unbreakable. "try putting a second one in..." he suggested, his voice laced with a risk that made your heart race wildly.

you pouted, feeling the unusual fullness, and slowly shook your head, your voice failing as you said it wouldn't fit, that it was too much for you... jake let out a low sss, throbbing inside his underwear. "that's because you're so tight, my love" he whispered against your ear. "go back to rubbing your little clit... a bit more strength now, hm? i promise it'll be good..." he ordered and, almost instantaneously, you obeyed.

the speed with which you followed the command, despite the shame and previous hesitation, made jake's blood boil. fuck, - like a trained little bitch, he thought - dark eyes fixed on the scene of your hand moving under his words. it was, without a doubt, one of the best things he had ever witnessed.

jake leaned over and once again captured one of your stiff peaks in his mouth, sucking noisily while his other hand squeezed the neglected one. you, on the other hand, strove to follow his orders, feeling your body react in a completely new way as you used two fingers to excite your clitoris, brushing your palm slightly against your pubis; which caused a soft, prickly sensation.

your eyes rolled back and your hips moved again by impulse, making the boy attentive as he purposefully raised his hips higher, letting not only the pressure of your fingers hit you, but also the firm elevation he had there.

the contained moans from before filled the pickup, becoming more drawn out, less controlled, and jake knew you would come at any moment... you were going to come from masturbating and grinding against him, holy shit. and when your small body spasmed several times in a row, jake let go of your breast and grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand out of your panties, hearing an audible groan from you. your erratic hips took a moment to stop, almost as if your arousal was enough to make them move alone.

you looked at him with literal tears in your eyes, puffing your cheeks slightly and grunting at the slightest movement.

"aawn... don't make that face. i know, i know... sshh" he hugged you slowly, stroking your hair and your back before placing a tender kiss on your forehead. "you were so good to me...", and the words of affirmation were somehow enough to appease a void you had felt for a long time, making you sob as you nodded, allowing yourself to sink into his embrace.

***

living around jake was consuming you. it was a slow, silent process, like a tide that rises without warning until the sand beneath your feet completely disappears. he occupied you in such a way that your thoughts orbited the idea of him almost twenty-four hours a day; the memory of how he teased you, of how he left you waiting on the edge of something you didn't yet fully understand.

and in the quiet of your room, you thought that maybe he was right. maybe the guilt was yours for still being a virgin, for being this burden of glass he had to carry so carefully.

gradually, the pillars that supported your life began to give way. principles that were once non-negotiable now felt like clothes that no longer fit. at work, your attention wandered; in the church youth groups, the sacred vocabulary felt strange in your mouth. sunday services became short, rushed, while the time you spent alone, discovering your own body, increased.

you prayed less and touched yourself more. dreams became vivid, dense, and you woke up sweaty and aroused more often than you could - or wanted to - remember.

the pastor was the first to notice the spark in your eyes. then came the others. marie, your boss, commented on the change while you hummed, without realizing, a melody you had heard in his car during a drive. "you've been cheerful... different," marie said with a half-smile. although your body stiffened for a millisecond, you turned and smiled, nodding. "oh... what is it then? a boy?"

you felt the blood rush to your cheeks, but the answer came with a clarity that surprised you. "he's not a boy."

jake was a man, an idea, a new doctrine that you embraced with the same blind devotion with which you had worshiped god and the holy spirit all those years.

but the ecstasy didn't last forever.

on a thursday afternoon, upon arriving from work, the expectation of going up to your room and losing yourself in thought was cut like a razor wire. your father was sitting on the stairs, his dark silhouette against the dim light. "dad!" you exclaimed, your heart giving a troubled jolt.

"where did you leave your bible last?"

the direct and raw question tore through the atmosphere. time stopped for a few seconds; the breeze coming through the window seemed to blow out all the candles of your security and the evening sun no longer warmed the room of the townhouse.

"i-i always leave it on the dresser... when we get back from service on sunday... it's always there," you breathed, your voice small, feeling your brow furrow in an instinctive defense.

you should read it every day. without exception.

"right. and have you been talking to god every day?" he turned his head slightly, eyes fixed on yours, making the saliva go down heavy in your throat in an audible gulp.

"yes, dad," you nodded, averting your gaze to the floor.

he stood up. the heavy steps against the wood of the stairs echoed like sentences. a bitter, almost suffocating energy emanated from him as he walked toward you. you closed your eyes, stiffening your shoulders waiting for the impact of the slap you already knew, but it didn't come. instead, he stretched out his arm, taking the object that had been hidden behind him and shoved it against your chest, curling his lips in deep disgust.

"and why was your bible forgotten at church until this morning? can you answer me that?" you looked down. the heavy book, with its dark cover, seemed to burn in contact with your skin, as if the paper were on fire. your lips stayed parted, but no words came out. there was no answer. there was no excuse. "that's what i thought," your father breathed low.

the silence that followed between you and your father wasn't one of peace, but of a suffocating stagnation, where every second seemed to weigh pounds on your shoulders. he watched you with a cold pity, the kind the saints reserve for the damned before the pyre. "woe to those who call evil good, and good evil; who put darkness for light, and light for darkness" he quoted, his voice monotonous and deep echoing through the walls of the townhouse. "light cannot be given to the blind, daughter. you are too innocent to understand your own situation, to see the abyss that opened beneath your feet while you smiled."

he paused, lips narrowing into a line.

"he's already gone, for your information. left this morning. the church has been repaired, the bills have been paid... there's nothing for him to do here anyway."

your heart, which had been galloping, simply froze. air refused to pass through your throat, as if your lungs had turned to stone.

"what are you talking about?" you questioned him in a whisper, taking an instinctive step back, the bible still weighing between your fingers like a corpse.

"you know who i'm talking about. don't think you've been sneaky"

you shook your head, a frantic movement. brow furrowed, your mind screaming that it was a lie - not that he knew. damn it if he knew, actually. and before he could finish the sentence or utter any other judgment, you spun on your heels and rushed out of the house. the bible fell somewhere on the front lawn and your legs moved restlessly. you crossed the yard, invaded the street ignoring the cars and the asphalt under your feet, hurriedly crossing to the church grounds.

your lungs burned when you reached the small cabin in the back. in the last few weeks, jake had transformed that place. he had built a table with his own hands, installed lights that made the environment cozy, put up posters that spoke of a world you only knew through his eyes. there were shelves full of books and a closet... the closet he filled with his jackets.

but when you flung the small door open, the emptiness hit you like a physical punch.

everything was clean. impersonal. not a single trace of him remained; not a strand of hair, not the smell of mint and leather, nothing. you flipped the lights on frantically, hands trembling as you searched under the perfectly made bed, looking in the corners, on top of the furniture... seeking any sign, a note, a forgotten game token, anything that proved your father was just trying to scare you. you checked the small bathroom and only saw the shower curtains pushed to the corner, the bathtub dry underneath.

the little room held only the parish toolbox, a few boards leaning against the wall, and a small bench. the space he had built to live in had been dismantled as if it had never existed. it was exactly as you had asked in your prayers when you first met him... it was exactly what you had said in the sensitive words you prayed those nights, and now you blamed yourself because, of all your requests, god had chosen that one to fulfill. "n-no...", the crying that was forming, filling your eyes with tears and making your cheeks turn red, broke loose and you sat on the bed that held only the thin mattress.

you brought both hands to your neck as a long, drawn-out, tearful guttural scream left you, feeling your vision blur as tears began to stream down your face. maybe this was the punishment for sinning, for not following the rules, for being a deviant soul... and it hurt so, so much... even when you tried to breathe properly, hunching over with your chest burning and crying even more, copiously.

but suddenly, the pain of loss was replaced by an incandescent rage, something that boiled in your blood and transformed you into someone else, someone irrational and fierce. you stood up and with all the strength you had in your being, you went back breathless to the house, invading the living room where your father was still waiting for you.

you lunged at him like a wounded animal. possessed, you tried to scratch his face, fingers curved into claws. your father grabbed you by the shoulders tightly, trying to contain the explosion of fury emanating from you, a strength you never knew you possessed.

"i hate you! what did you do! you damn man! i hate you!", the words came out choked, yelled.

"you were being consumed by evil! it was for the best!" he growled, his voice trying to overcome your screams and his strong arms holding your thin wrists. you were no longer the obedient daughter. you grunted, the sound coming from deep in your throat, a primitive noise of pain and hate.

"you sent him away! it's your fault! yours!" you screamed, fighting against his grip, the world collapsing while jake was the only thing that could save you.

"look at you, daughter, look at how you are. do you think this is normal? do you think god would approve of something like this?" he questioned, and the mention of divinity only left you more unhinged.

"stop talking about that! i don't care anymore! i hate all of it! i never truly liked it..! god, angels... i don't want any of it anymore! you took everything i wanted! everything! i hate you!", and as the words were uttered, hate gave way to sorrow and your knees buckled, making your body collapse to the floor, hitting your knees on the floorboards.

when the pastor let you go, your wrists fell as if they were heavy, limp sacks beside your hunched body that was still crying, making the drops of salt water wet the wooden floor below you. he was astounded, horrified. your father took a step back, averting his eyes for a few seconds as he himself had difficulty dealing with watery eyes, running his hand over his temple before sighing.

"i feel sorry for you... i fear you are unpunishable... perhaps, there truly is no place for you beside the lord" the bitter words cut his throat before he walked away with long strides.

***

how many days had passed?

three? five? ten?

you didn't know. your room remained the same, the house remained the same, and that was all you had been seeing since then. refusing to go on with your monotonous routine. too guilty to set foot outside the house, afraid of how they would look at you, what they would think, in that damn town of five thousand people.

and you were wrong before; it wasn't jake's presence that corrupted you - your own inner demons did that. you didn't fit salvation either way.

sometimes, your father would come to call you at the door, receiving only the sweet sound of your silence from the other side as an answer. you took your baths and ate when he wasn't around or when you knew he was going to sleep. if you were wrong and if god judged you for it, then so be it... let him watch while you worship your own ruin.

the night was terribly calm.

lying on the floor, staring at the beige ceiling of the room didn't help sleep come any faster. out of muscle memory, you made the sign of the cross over your chest, like someone about to pray, but stopped halfway. who would hear your prayers? when you had decided it was better to die surrounded by the life that pleased you than to care for what should be the purest of vessels for your soul. then you turned to your side, feeling the hard floor beneath you and huffing.

you closed your eyes and tried to count. tried not to think about anything. tried to cover your face with the pillow. but it didn't work.

when the muffled sound of something scratching the glass began, you didn't give it any importance; the wind, a dry branch, or maybe just your mind playing tricks in the middle of exhaustion. but the persistent, sharp, and rhythmic taps like small hailstones cut through the silence until the annoyance overcame the inertia.

you stood up, bare feet feeling the cold floor, and walked to the window where the bluish moonlight bathed the windowsill.

looking down, the world seemed to regain its colors in a single second. jake was there. real, solid, wearing jeans and that flannel shirt that seemed to carry all the comfort your father's townhouse had denied you in recent days. he smiled when he saw you, the arm that had just thrown the last pebble coming down slowly. you opened the glass in a desperate movement, the cold night air invading the room.

"what..?" the whisper came out raspy, loaded with a disbelief that bordered on ecstasy.

"missed me, church girl?" he asked with a smirk, moistening his lips afterward, and your nod was enough to set him in motion.

with agility, he wrapped his hand in an old cloth and climbed the tree trunk beside the house. every movement of his was precise, the strength of his arms lifting him to the second floor until he braced himself on his knee and jumped inside, landing on the carpet with a nasal laugh, narrowly missing the lamp.

you were stunned.

your eyes shone in the dark, fixed on him as if jake were a divine apparition in the midst of your private purgatory. he brushed the dust off his clothes and turned his face slightly, opening his arms in a silent invitation.

he mapped you there: the thin and transparent nightgown that molded your breasts but fell loose over your hips, the rosary of dark beads resting on your exposed collarbones, and your faltering feet.

when you finally took the step forward, he pulled you hard, crushing you against his chest, against the smell of the outdoors and freedom he exhaled. jake noticed the change in your countenance milliseconds before you hid your face in his chest. the emptiness of the last few days tried to turn into crying, but your eyes were dry, exhausted from so much fighting.

"i'm sorry for not writing a note... your father was really demanding when he came to me that day" he said softly against the top of your head, his fingers getting lost in your hair in a protective caress. "was he very hard on you?"

you shook your head against his chest, a quick, almost automatic movement. jake felt the lie vibrate in your body. you really were a terrible liar, but for him, that silence said much more than any words about what you had faced since he was forced to leave.

and the boy pondered before holding your face and pulling you away just so your eyes could meet. "come with me"

your lips parted and you looked down, lost, bringing your thin fingers to the buttons of his shirt. "i don't... i don't deserve you, jake...", your head shook and your laugh was weak, reluctant.

"what is that?" he knit his brows and shook his head, holding your chin and making you look at him again.

"god hates me. he will punish me and punish anyone who tries to help me... and i don't want that for you" your voice came out choked, but he didn't let go, pressing his mouth into a line and hardening his expression.

"i know you might think that now... because that's all you know, but there is nothing to punish you... you didn't do anything wrong" he replied, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "and even if he does... i don't care" he shrugged, running his tongue along his cheek. "i've been punished since the day i was born, i can't worry about one more day". and once again, you realized you didn't know jake sim, or his story, where he came from, or what his past was, but you loved him for what he showed now. "so come with me. we'll move near your college, get a job, and you decide what to do about this" he brought his thumb to the pendant of the necklace, pressing it.

you disentangled yourself from him delicately. took a few steps back and turned around, your bare feet sinking into the carpet as your eyes scanned the room. the bedroom suddenly felt strange; the dull walls, the heavy and impersonal wooden furniture where you had grown up, hidden, and lately, withered away.

a shiver ran down your arms and you hugged yourself, feeling the weight of that decision crush your chest.

jake didn’t leave you alone for long. he approached from behind, steps silent, and wrapped his arms around your waist with that firmness only he possessed. he tucked his face into the curve of your neck, inhaling the soft, natural scent of your skin, as if memorizing your essence. "i promise to take care of you... while you discover the world, the landscapes, the life..." he hissed, his warm breath brushing against your sensitive skin and sending electric jolts down your spine.

and you shrunk slightly against him, a reflex of someone still not used to such unconditional affection. jake smiled against your neck, noticing your gradual surrender.

"let me save you"

the phrase made your heart skip a beat. it ached in a deep way, the kind of pain that tears away what was left of your old identity to make room for something new. you remained still, feeling only the beat of his heart against your back, until you finally nodded. turning to him, a light and trembling smile appeared on your lips.

"yes?" he asked, just to hear the confirmation from you.

jake held you and sealed your lips in a short kiss, but one loaded with a victorious urgency.

"you need to pack your things, we’re leaving today."

"now?" your eyebrows shot up.

"yes, now"

there was no time for hesitation. jake moved through the room with practical efficiency, helping you find a large backpack in the back of your closet and dropping it on the floor with a dull thud. he guided you to choose practical clothes and, especially, something warm to face the biting cold of the road that awaited you both.

while you looked for what to take, he helped gather small fragments of your life - a few photos and personal belongings - which were kept in a small box and carefully tucked into the backpack's outer pocket.

the rest you did alone, in an almost ritualistic silence. you folded each piece of clothing with care, feeling the weight of every choice, while jake settled onto your bed. he stretched out one leg and leaned his torso against the headboard - resting one arm behind his head - watching your every move. his gaze was attentive, calm, but charged with anticipation.

until you stopped...

and you stopped just as you were about to change your clothes... about to slip a sleeve of the nightgown you were wearing off your shoulder. knowing his eyes were on you and that he would watch you undress.

jake licked his lower lip, clicking his jaw slightly, watching you do one side and then the other, very slowly. the fabric slid down your body, pooling around your feet so that all that remained was your underwear. the boy's dark eyes outlined your curves, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen some of them before, but not all at once; never.

you waited, looking over your shoulder, and he understood, standing up and approaching you.

"do you want help?" he whispered, his body so close to your small frame that you felt his heat radiating.

"yes..." you nodded and he bit his lip.

"where do you need my help?" jake questioned, still serene... wanting to know what your real intentions were.

that was when you sought out one of his thick wrists, holding it calmly and guiding his hand to one of your perky breasts, which he palmed as soon as he felt the soft flesh beneath.

jake gave a small smile but composed himself. "you know you tease me when you do these things... don't you?" he asked softly, just leaning forward, making both bodies brush against each other, his mouth close to your earlobe.

"i'm not teasing now" you replied, sounding a bit more decisive.

"know i stopped all the other times, but i wouldn't stop this time..." he warned, trying to catch any hesitation from you, but there was none; you kept holding his wrist there, breathing calmly... he was forced to close his eyes and sigh, restraining himself. "if you really want this, use your words..." he whispered, placing a brief kiss below your ear.

"jake, please..." you began... but it was hard to find the words.

"yes? i'm listening," he wanted to hear it.

"make me yours. completely" your voice came out hoarse.

and he didn't take long to comply with your request, sliding his hand from your breast to your neck, making you turn your face so he could take your mouth in a hungry kiss; saved up since the first day he saw you in the front row of the church pews, waiting for your father to finish his sermons. his lips, full and plump, swallowing and molding yours while he held you beneath your breasts with his other strong arm. jake pulled you, literally dragging your feet across the floor until you were leaning over the dresser.

your mouths broke apart and he flattened his hand against your back, feeling the small bones of your spine and pushing you to bend further.

"bend over f’me..." he commanded, analyzing the angle; the contrast between him still dressed and you exposed making you look smaller and more breakable.

you had your hands on either side of your body and your cheek pressed against the surface of the furniture while your hips remained arched. his large hands went straight to that region, holding firm. "you’re so beautiful..." he leaned over and kissed your hips. how had he held back for so long? "stay still like that"

jake got on his knees right behind you, caressing your soft thighs before wrapping his hands around them carefully.

his long fingers gripped the waistband of your panties, sliding the fabric down slowly until it was pooling at your heels. his eyes followed the movement and went back up, now seeing your sex pressed together, so pink and barely used... he spread your legs apart, watching as your pussy decompressed, feeling his mouth water.

his tongue reached your womanhood next. it was hot, and he licked from bottom to top, catching all the places where you seemed to need him most. you whimpered and tried to lift your torso to look, feeling a stinging slap on one of your butt cheeks.

"is that staying still for you?" the boy asked muffled - making you drop your face until it was pressed against the dresser again - before sinking his tongue into your slit, feeling you getting wetter and wetter.

fingertips wandered over your legs, scratching your skin as if feeling braille, reading you completely, discovering desires and wants you had hidden.

jake opened his mouth wider, latching his pretty lips around your pussy before sucking noisily, making your small folds catch pressure there, leaving your eyes rolling back. you felt so dirty. it was terrible that you liked feeling his mouth on your body so much, terrible that your body responded so well. "j-jake..." you whimpered softly, looking for something to hold onto.

he, however, was more concerned with making you slippery enough. it was about that, wasn't it? about being able to take him when the time came. he knew it was and despite being afraid, you were more curious. when the sim's tongue penetrated your tight cavity, a grunt escaped you, and as soon as jake forced a digit inside as well, your fingers tightened against the corners of the wooden furniture; your knuckles turning white and your toes curling.

he gave a breathy smile, parting his lips as he couldn't keep his thoughts to himself. "look at how you’re squeezing a single finger... fuck, your pussy is going to be so full with my cock" the dirty words echoed low through the room, entering your ears and making you moan more and more. jake began to pump his finger, sliding his tongue down to wrap it around your clitoris meanwhile, playing with the spot like it was candy.

you shook your head - divided between the urge to keep being good or finish losing yourself - trembling and standing on your tiptoes as your muscles tensed. he forced another thick finger into you as the squelches of your entrance grew louder, making you grit your teeth and let out a drawn-out sound. "sshh, you don't want to wake up the preacher, do you?" he mocked, knowing it was almost impossible not to make a sound with the way he was touching you.

and before you could unravel, he stopped, suddenly, standing up and grabbing you by the shoulder to pull your body back and press it against his once more. his mouth traveled over your shoulders, kissing your neck and sucking the skin in visible places now, leaving marks and making your legs weak, needing to double the strength with which he kept you upright.

the boy turned you around and pulled your thighs so you could climb into his lap, walking with you to the bed and tossing you into the center of it.

you watched as jake took off his clothes, biting your lip hard while he deliberately unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants before kicking the garment away. and when he was left only in his underwear... damn, he was marked. the thick outline in the thin fabric making you doubt if he would fit before you looked at him. "speak your mind, little one..." he asked, mischievous, sliding his hands over your thighs as he positioned himself between them.

"w-what if it is too big?" your voice crackled, making him let out a brief chuckle. "then i would have to go slow... until you get used to the size..." he replied, leaning over your body, maintaining a smirk and eye contact, making your heart beat fast and your body burn. your face contorted with shame and your free hand flew to cover his eyes with a muffled grunt. "d-don't look at me like that..." you asked, affected, and he laughed again, enjoying himself.

jake held your wrist and unhurriedly moved your hand away, bringing it to his lips and kissing the whole palm, before holding it firmer and licking slowly, with a flat tongue, staring at you with eyes clouded with desire. "i can't, you're too cute..." he slid his tongue to the softest part of your palm and sucked just as he had done with your cunny earlier, stretching the warm muscle between your digits and passing between them too. when your body softened again, he let go of your hand and stood erect, looking down at you - your hair spread across the sheet, your breathing uneven, folds glistening with the mixture of his saliva and your arousal. "are you ready?" his tone was low and sensual.

you nodded, watching the older boy take his throbbing member out of his underwear. it hit, hard, against his lower abdomen, the veins protruding and the pink head swollen and leaking pre-cum.

he held the base, forcing his cock down and rubbing it against your mound in a provocative back-and-forth. god, you were so small... maybe you really should be afraid.

jake held one of your thighs, forcing your knee back almost near your shoulder, making more room for him, and guided his swollen head to your virgin entrance. "breathe in, baby... relax a bit..." he whispered as he forced his entry there.

jake advanced with agonizing slowness, feeling every millimeter of resistance your body offered. he was focused, his dark eyes fixed on the point where his flesh lost itself in your tight interiors; he watched, almost hypnotized, as the sensitive skin stretched to its limit to accommodate his thickness.

a whimpery gasp escaped the boy's lips. it had been so long since he felt something squeeze him that way, as if every fiber of you were trying to push him out and hug him at the same time.

he hissed softly, a mixture of pain and extreme pleasure, before leaning down again to capture your mouth, muffling the whimpers you let out as you felt the inevitable stretching. you were breathless, your chest rising and falling frantically. your hands, restless and desperate for a point of support, squeezed his arms which pinned you to the bed, your nails scratching the warm skin before sliding down your own breasts, squeezing them in a reflex of agony and ecstasy.

"it's too much...nng i can't!" you protested through gritted teeth, your voice choked.

"of course you can... you're being so good..." he replied, his tone of voice so intoxicating it numbed you.

the compliment made you throw your head back, small tears of pain and effort accumulating in the corner of your eyes as you felt his weight fill every empty space that remained in you. when jake finally buried himself completely, he let out a raspy grunt, biting his own lower lip as a few drops of sweat broke out on his forehead. "fu-ck, you squeeze me so well... so good, my love..." he whispered, his voice failing.

he tried to move his hips, a short and experimental movement, and felt your nails dig hard into his biceps in response to the new surge of sensations. jake stopped for a moment, his face close to yours, seeking your eyes reassuringly. "just breathe, hm? don't think too much..." he started talking to you, his soft voice acting like an anchor in the middle of the storm. "the hardest part is over... can you do this for me?"

the way he asked, turning that surrender into a favor for him, made the pain of being devirginated start to be swallowed by an even greater need: that of satisfying him, of being exactly what he wanted you to be. which made you nod breathlessly and bring your fingers to your swollen clitoris and rub it - in slow circular motions, as he had taught before - closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel bit by bit how the stinging became something more bearable, almost good... "there's my good girl" he said with a little smile after watching the act.

every time you got wetter and less tense, you could feel his cock going deeper and deeper, sliding out and coming back in with jake's full weight in every thrust.

you could even feel your lower abdomen bulging, parting your lips at the sight you had when you looked down to where your bodies met - the large cock, and your small, swollen lips sliding along the length of it. your moans became more spontaneous, and gradually your body began to give small signs it would give in.

jake saw you arch when he thrust harder, felt your nails scratch his back when he laid his body over yours, incredibly deep, making the head of his cock hit your internal wall.

but it was when he buried his face in your neck to suck the flesh and vent some of the pressure he felt, that you looked up.

there, above your bed, the crucifix.

your eyes clouded with growing pleasure and your thoughts far away, no longer able to process the guilt you had carried all that time, not while jake fucked you and made you a woman. this was the moment when you decided to have a new religion, one that began and ended with jake sim.

***

you leaned your head against the glass of the truck, feeling the constant vibration of the engine against your temple as you watched the landscape of your old life being left behind, turning into green and gray blurs. the radio played a soft melody, a sound that filled the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

occasionally, jake took one hand off the steering wheel and squeezed your thigh lightly - a possessive and calm touch, just to make sure you were still awake. you smiled, closing your eyes and feeling that, finally, you were safe.

not far from there, at a roadside station that smelled of diesel oil and burnt coffee, two old men shared a beer at a rustic, worn-out table. between them, an old battery-operated radio crackled, fighting against static to deliver the latest afternoon news.

"- suspect in the murder of four people remains at large" the announcer's voice cut through the hot air. "the suspect goes by the name of jaeyun sim. he has asian features, is approximately five-foot-nine, with brown eyes and hair. he is the primary suspect in the killing of his parents, his fiancée, and a witness at the scene of the crime four months ago. if you have any information call xxx or make an anonymous report".

*

the orange glow of the late afternoon sun made the college library feel weirdly cozy. different from the mornings when you had to work, when the place was just painfully cold and way too bright, enough to see tiny dust particles floating in the air if you focused hard enough. working there wasn’t that bad, aside from the boredom and the monotony of doing the same tasks over and over again. the paycheck covered your weekend concerts and your impulsive online shopping sprees, so whatever.

you were sitting on the swivel chair - headphones resting around your neck, messy bun, smudged eyeliner, flavorless gum in your mouth - behind the oak counter, scanning and cataloging a few new titles that had arrived earlier that day. you picked them up one by one, stuck the barcode label on, registered them on the website, and tossed them into the cart beside you. you’d shelve them later.

you were paying attention to everything and nothing at the same time. a group of students had taken over one of the study rooms, two girls were studying together near a table by the windows, and an old lady wandered around looking for the next book she’d reserve.

the calm of the day was interrupted when mr. clint’s nasal voice echoed behind you.

“yn, i’d like to introduce you to your new shift partner”

you stopped what you were doing and sighed before spinning around in your chair, ready to deliver your best uninterested “hi,” but your eyebrows shot up instantly. behind the old man stood a guy who looked like he’d walked straight out of some cliché teenage romance movie.

he wore a plaid shirt over a white tee, light-wash jeans, and a backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. his brown hair was slightly messy and, behind a pair of glasses that kept slipping down his nose, dark attentive eyes shined like a puppy’s. he gave you a goofy, almost shy smile and lifted his hand in a simple wave.

“jake, yn. yn, jake,” clint added. “hope you two get along”

what the hell is a guy like this doing here? it wouldn’t be weird to see someone like him at a campus football game or promoting some frat party down the hallways, but here?

“is there a problem?” the old man asked, noticing your silence and confused expression, making your eyes widen as you quickly shook your head, trying to look normal again. hopefully the shock wasn’t that obvious.

“none! it’s a pleasure… the job sucks, hope you know that” you said casually before turning back to what you were doing.

you heard jake’s soft laugh and mr. clint clicking his tongue, probably paired with the eye roll you’d witnessed at least a hundred times before. it didn’t take long before they left again, going back to the little orientation tour and leaving you alone once more.

since your shift started at 1pm and ended at 6pm, you always left the last - and most unbearable - task for 5pm. that way you never finished it and could dump it on the idiot from the night shift; a nearly forty-year-old guy who had hit on you on your first day. you pushed the book cart between the shelves, searching for the right sections and double-checking alphabetical order to put the new books away.

one of the cart’s metal wheels made an irritating scraping sound against the wooden floor; the screw was loose and apparently the college’s finance department couldn’t care less about the dozens of emails you’d sent asking for a new one. you had been listening to music earlier, but your playlist had ended, leaving you with the library’s sepulchral silence.

“did you know that, technically, time passes slower at the top of a mountain than at sea level because of gravitational time dilation?”

the unfamiliar voice caught you off guard, making your body jolt and your hands tighten around the cart’s handle. your heart, which had been beating calmly, suddenly sped up, leaving your legs weak.

“holy-, you scared me” you complained, frowning and placing a hand over your chest as you turned around. jake was there, leaning against the shelf. he held a thick applied physics book that almost slipped from his fingers when he got startled by your reaction.

“shit, sorry! my bad…” he sucked air through his teeth. “wasn’t my intention, it’s just that we… i mean, we couldn’t really introduce ourselves and i thought-” he ran a hand through his hair and then pushed his glasses back up his nose, like a nervous tic. “and this book is amazing, you know? it’s fascinating how einstein predicted that before we even had atomic clocks to prove it. it’s like reality is just a suggestion, you get it?” he smiled awkwardly, glancing away.

unbelievable.

you figured he had to have some flaw. maybe he’d gotten written up for hooking up in the locker room and getting caught by the janitor, maybe he was failing some insanely hard class and the boring library job was his only option; especially since the position had been open for months and literally no one had applied. you just didn’t expect him to be an incurable nerd who tangled himself in his own words because he couldn’t keep up with the speed of his thoughts and somehow knew everything about every possible subject. and the worst part? he was so pretty you might not even care.

“sounds awesome. i don’t know shit about that, but that’s definitely impressive” you crossed your arms, looking up at him with a subtle smile.

and he kept going. he spoke at a moderate volume - his voice would crack mid-sentence whenever he realized he was getting too loud - gesturing, pulling faces, and you followed every single one of them, studying his perfect face, thick brows, slightly big nose, well-shaped lips. he also was a good few centimeters taller than you. not to mention his veiny hands showing whenever he grabbed the cart to help you push it.

jake was stupidly attractive and completely clueless about it. the way he bit his lower lip while thinking, the way his eyes drifted upward trying to find simpler words to explain something to you, or when he hurried to place a book on the highest shelf, stretching his arm and leaning toward you.

and that’s how, over the course of an entire hour, he talked so much that somehow the topic went from einstein to rpg systems, and you ended up shelving all the books together.

“it’s just that the final boss has a 40% elemental damage resistance, which totally breaks the mage build, so in that case the best option would be a tank knight-”

your alarm went off inside your apron pocket, cutting him off.

“shift’s over,” you said simply, turning off the repetitive sound.

“for real?! i thought it’d drag more…” he licked his lips, looking at you. the two of you held each other’s gaze for a few seconds. “so, uhm… can i get your number? i’ve got, like, the perfect video to show you about that turn rotation i was talking about” he explained, and you held back a laugh before handing him your phone, he didn’t needed to explain you had given it to him anyway.

you waited while he typed his number in and gave it back so you could save it and send him a dot just so he’d have yours too.

“well… that’s it. congrats on your surviving first day” you teased, already reaching behind your back to untie the knot of your uniform, exposing the band tee you wore underneath. his eyes scanned carefully.

“thanks, i guess?” he gave you a confused, amused look. “you’re leaving already?”

“mhm. if i stay more than five minutes past my shift it’s like my soul starts leaking out of my pores” you mimicked dramatically, twisting your arms with a funny face. “and i wouldn’t recommend staying either, or clint’s gonna ask you to cover the night shift too”

you turned your back with a small wave in the air and headed toward the tiny staff room, pushing the door open and going straight to your locker. you shoved the apron in carelessly, grabbed your bag, let your hair down, and got ready to leave.

***

the walk home felt longer than usual. you normally rushed it, headphones in, mind somewhere else, but this time you caught yourself thinking about your new coworker more than once. you didn’t understand shit about physics, and you’d never played anything remotely close to an rpg. honestly, your only real concerns lately were what to wear to the cover show you were going to that weekend and what kind of makeup you’d do.

still… you hated admitting it. he was adorable.

and somehow, your peaceful, painfully boring job had just become the most interesting part of your day.

[jake🤓🐶]: hii, it’s jake. from work! hahah [jake🤓🐶]: after i left i realized we didn’t actually talk about ourselves at all. that was my fault… i always end up talking too much about the stuff i like… [jake🤓🐶]: you can tell me to stop! i mean, my friends do that sometimes. [jake🤓🐶]: anyway! tomorrow i’ll definitely talk less and let you talk more! [jake🤓🐶]: so see you tomorrow? [jake🤓🐶]: oh yeah i was about to forget. this is the video i was talking about! [jake🤓🐶]: link attached [jake🤓🐶]: it’s literally the best way to defeat a high-level boss in dxd! but of course you’d still need a bit of luck with the dice to roll a crit or something close to that [jake🤓🐶]: … i did it again 🫩 [jake🤓🐶]: so sorry, really. see you

lying in bed, already halfway ready to call it a day and sleep, you covered your eyes with your forearm and smiled at absolutely nothing after finishing his messages. ew. you felt like a pre-teen.

[you]: i’ll watch it! see you tomorrow!

***

as the days went by, the closeness between you and jake grew almost miraculously. not that it couldn’t have happened naturally, considering you worked the same afternoon shifts, but despite all the differences that made you orbit distant galaxies - you with your worn combat boots and smudged eyeliner, him with his geek-print t-shirts and the curiosity of someone still discovering the world - you still chose to get to know each other little by little.

like the night he practically tortured you through chat messages talking about some damn console he’d found at an antique shop, only to bring it in his backpack the next day and hook it up to the old monitor behind the library counter.

he spent a full twenty minutes explaining pixel logic and how the gameplay was “revolutionary for its time,” while you just watched his hands messing with the cables, amused by his excitement. when you finally started playing, he was confident, giving you tips on how to hold the controller and how to get the timing right. but by the second round? you got the hang of it. one quick move and you smashed his score on the screen.

“no way” jake stared at the screen with his lips parted before looking at you. “how???”

“just pressing the buttons… seemed pretty easy to me” you teased, making a smug little face.

“yeah right… that’s beginner’s luck!” he said, rolling his eyes, face all red and flustered, pretending to be annoyed even though the tiny smile tugging at his mouth betrayed him completely.

or the time your favorite band had surprise-dropped a remastered album and for an entire week literally everything that came out of your mouth was about it. poor jaeyun got so curious he said he wouldn’t mind if you played it during break.

and that’s exactly how you started spending every break together in the staff area (cubicle), sitting on the floor, shoulders brushing, sharing a bag of chips, one earbud each, your phone replaying your playlists while his soft, slightly citrusy perfume mixed with the smell of old paper.

“shut up, this is literally one of the best ones!” you’d exclaim, nudging him lightly with your elbow after he called the lyrics “exotic”. you’d close your eyes and rest your head against the locker behind you, taking a small pause while he laughed under his breath at the way you protested like he’d insulted a family member.

when you opened your eyes again, he’d still be paying attention to the music, drumming his fingers on his thigh, before turning to you with a wide smile. you hated when he did that, it was unfair that he was that pretty in every tiny detail. you’d smile back automatically, feeling your stupid heart take off at a full gallop.

the tension between you evolved as you both became less ignorant about the interest you clearly showed in each other. like the day you were on the verge of a nervous breakdown over an epistemology and statistics assignment. seriously, why would a humanities major require math of any kind? couldn’t you just… use a calculator or ask google? you huffed, slumped over the table and papers when jake nudged you, asking to see it and almost instantly offering help.

“let me help you, yeah?” he gently took the pencil you were holding loosely between your fingers. “the epistemology part here is simple if you apply the law of large numbers to validate the statistical sample the prompt gives you” he explained calmly, in that soft didactic tone of his, dragging his chair closer to sit beside you.

jake solved the questions one by one, filling the pages with his tiny, rounded handwriting, a mix of print and cursive, explaining step by step while you barely paid attention; your focus entirely on the cute sound of his breathing and the profile of his nose illuminated by the nearby desk lamp.

“and if we isolate the variable-” he stopped, realizing you were staring at him instead of the paper. he cleared his throat, laughing awkwardly, eyebrows lifting quickly. “want me to explain that part again?”

“uhm?” you looked down at the paper and then back at him. “no need. i got it. you’re good at explaining…” you murmured softly, holding back your smile when you saw him stutter a little, completely shy, before returning to the assignment.

but you’d bet the most challenging day was when you both decided to get some air behind the library, where there were a few patio chairs with umbrellas and the herbology department’s garden, full of different little plants. jake was reading some random comic, occasionally adjusting his glasses and licking his lips in a way that was way too attractive for you to ignore. you watched him while pulling a cigarette from your pocket, lighting it and taking a slow drag, blowing the smoke to the opposite side and lazily tilting your head toward your shoulder. what you didn’t expect was that in the brief moments you drifted off into nothing, his eyes were watching you back.

“you know something?” he closed the comic and leaned back better in the chair. “you are like the coolest person i have ever met”

you were completely caught off guard by the compliment, one that would’ve sounded cheap coming from anyone else, but from him felt like one of the sweetest things you’d ever heard. you blushed and shook your head, embarrassed. he didn’t take it back, though.

“do you wanna try?” he had once said he’d never smoked, but the curious look in his eyes now suggested he might be tempted.

“i-i don’t know if i should…”

“well, it’s not a crime”

you finished for him, leaning forward and extending your hand to pass the burning tobacco, watching him take it carefully, his eyes flicking from your face to the cigarette and back. “relax… inhale slowly and breathe calmly when the smoke gets about here” you pointed to his throat.

“promise you won’t laugh if i cough?”

he did as you said, squeezing his eyes shut when they watered, managing a tiny drag before releasing the smoke, lips pressed together and brow furrowed.

“wow… like a pro, huh?” he handed it back to you, laughing hoarsely.

“i guess it’s because my mom made me use an inhaler every day when i was little” he added casually, and that made you burst out laughing, not because you were mocking him, but because it was such a jake thing to say, like he hadn’t looked insanely hot just seconds ago exhaling smoke.

“good boy… that’s better for your health” you said simply, taking another drag before scrolling through your phone on the small table.

“why do you smoke then?” he asked, pretending not to care about the praise you’d thrown at him, sinking deeper into his chair while watching you.

“got to keep it cool for you i guess…” you taunted, using the word he’d said earlier, making him laugh softly and kick your chair.

***

and of course, there was the complicated part too.

the library job itself wasn’t hard, that was the best thing about it. people rarely asked for help beyond reservations. most of the regulars knew exactly what they wanted, how long they’d stay. it was the easiest job in the world.

it hadn’t happened out of nowhere too. it started after two girls noticed him while he was fixing the flyers on the shelves. they practically melted when he hurried to help one of them pick up the pencils that had fallen from her case after he accidentally bumped into her.

you couldn’t even blame them. he really was… something.

after that, of course they started coming back more often. and not just them, a few other girls too. they’d stop by the counter asking random questions, clearly annoyed when you were the one answering while jake just stood beside you nodding along. some of the bolder ones would lean over the wooden counter when you were alone and ask if you knew where the “cute employee” was.

“have you tried the law section? he had some books to shelve there” you’d say flatly, not even bothering to look her in the eye.

“yeah… maybe he went on break?”

“maybe” you’d shrug, unimpressed.

“i really needed to talk to him, he recommended a game earlier but i forgot the name… do you perhaps have his number so you could pass it to me?”

you’d let a small smile tug at your lips before finally looking up at her, raising your brows in a way that made your shock at the audacity very clear and enough for her to shift awkwardly, mutter a quiet “whatever” and walk away.

“i’m back, did i miss anything?” you’d hear a few minutes later, jake sitting by your side and already splitting the stack of books to catalog together.

“nothing at all.”

and in moments like that, you felt so selfish it hurted.

it was almost impossible that jake felt anything beyond the happiness of having a friend at work instead of just someone to exchange half-words with. for you, liking someone so out of your league felt ridiculous. he was different, smart, beautiful, too kind for his own good, so you didn’t try.

but you weren’t about to hand him over to the competition either.

***

after all, being jake’s friend wasn’t hard. you had learned how to listen to his monologues, and in return he’d gotten scarily good at reading every single one of your moods just by the look on your face. you talked about everything… well, almost everything. he didn’t exactly have much experience, and you were actively avoiding romantic topics after your last thing with a jackass you’d met at some indie bar.

after two months, all your friends knew about him, and all his friends knew about you. by the third month, you’d installed a few casual games just to play with him on discord calls, and he’d even bought some cds from bands you liked so you could listen to them together.

and still, you rarely hung out outside of work.

maybe because you saw each other every single day.

so you were genuinely surprised when he invited you somewhere.

“a friend invited me to a party” he brought it up while you were both dusting the tables before the shift ended. “i said i’d think about it. i get kinda lost in those environments, i don’t know…” he said, eyes still lowered.

“have you ever been to one?”

“no” he answered immediately before looking at you. “will you go with me” he added quickly, the words spilling out like if he didn’t throw them up right then they’d get stuck in his throat forever without the courage to actually exist.

“is that an invitation or a demand?” you joked, lifting your gaze to him and catching the way he inhaled sharply before managing to answer.

“i’m begging actually… please?” he pressed his lips into a thin line and straightened his posture, holding the dust cloth stiffly at his side. oh. he was serious.

“i’ll have to check my schedule…” you sighed dramatically, putting on a brief little act just to watch his shoulders slump again, like a puppy getting tired of waiting for its owner to throw the ball. you laughed when you looked at him again and found him still staring. “just kidding. send me the details” finally said, watching his face light up instantly. “and you’re washing the cloths this time!” you tossed the rag in his direction. jake caught it midair with a soft nasal laugh and looked at you quietly, that strange little sense of victory blooming in his chest.

***

the atmosphere of the party was a sensory shock. the air, saturated with the smell of cheap beer, chlorine, and the sweet vapor of vapes, felt heavy in your lungs as you tried to make your way through bodies. you had expected something lowkey, maybe a bunch of nerds debating rpg mechanics on a couch, not that the friend in question would be the fucking evan lee, aka the most desired guy on campus for countless reasons, including the fact that his parties were always a straight-up project x knockoff.

his house looked like a human anthill. the dj, clearly high, distorted the bass until it vibrated through the structure of the place, and every scream coming from the beer pong table or the crowd watching bottle-flip challenges seemed to crank the temperature higher. people sprawled over couches and bean bags, others making out in hallways, girls in micro shorts and bikinis. everything in excessive amounts.

you couldn’t lie, you’d been to plenty of these. way before college, actually, when your high school friend group would lie to their parents about sleepovers for “early projects” and end up in random basements of houses owned by people you’d never seen before. but ever since a bit of common sense had finally settled in your brain, you preferred cover gigs, bars, clubs. here, under the led lights and the frenzy of campus popularity - where you recognized more faces than you’d like - everything felt too loud.

you checked your phone again in his chat, making sure there were no new messages.

[jake🤓🐶]: im already here [you]: wtf? ur being dead serious? [jake🤓🐶]: yes... why? it was saying 11pm [you]: i know but parties like this never start at the right time [jake🤓🐶]: but like are you coming already? [you]: in 30min??? im doing my makeup [jake🤓🐶]: by then my anxiety will have eaten me alive, i’ll have a breakdown, collapse, hit my head and die of cranial trauma [you]: boooo👎🏻 stop that, crybaby

your eyes scanned the pool area, water splashing rhythmically whenever someone jumped in, then drifted back inside the house searching for that familiar silhouette: hair pushed back, shoulders slightly curved. it was impossible not to feel a pinch of anxiety too; the idea of jake, with his golden retriever energy and slipping glasses, loose in that sea of social sharks was almost concerning. you stepped up on a stair to get a better view of the backyard, ignoring some guy who smelled like straight tequila bumping into you.

and then you saw him.

in a more isolated corner of the veranda, away from the epicenter of the dance floor but still swallowed by the buzz, jake stood near a snack table. he looked like a cute island of discomfort. he held a red cup with both hands like it was a shield in front of his chest and talked to a guy who clearly just wanted access to the pretzel bowl.

even from afar you noticed that there was a damp stain on the shoulder of his shirt - probably from someone spilling a drink - and in an automatic gesture he pushed his glasses up with his wrist while starting to gesture, possibly explaining the aerodynamics of a bullet dive to absolutely no one in particular, just because that was the only strategy his brain had developed for when he got nervous.

the chaos of the party seemed to lower its volume the moment you spotted him. he was, without a doubt, the most out-of-place thing there, and for you, the only one that made sense to look for.

you walked through the crowd and loud laughter until you reached the boy, and when jake’s eyes finally found yours, the brightness that burst out of them was instant. relief mixed with astonishment. the random trapped in the physics monologue didn’t even say goodbye; he just took the opening and disappeared.

jake looked you up and down, swallowing hard as he processed the image. at the library, you were the flare jeans and sneakers and customized shoes girl. but here, under the erratic party lights, you looked like something else entirely. the skirt, the spiked belt, the fuzzy animal print jacket outlining your body. it short-circuited his brain.

took him a full minute to process your “hi” and when he finally reacted, he leaned in with clumsy urgency to leave a quick kiss on your cheek, his face heating up at the scent of your perfume.

“you look gorg-” he started, only to be interrupted by a group passing behind you carrying a massive bucket of ice, forcing you to step forward with an awkward smile. the space between you vanished, leaving you almost pressed against his chest; the poor boy lost every ounce of ability to finish his sentence.

“idiots…” you muttered under your breath, stepping back once they disappeared through the sliding doors. “anyway, why didn’t you tell me your friend was the evan lee?” you looked up at him, arms crossed.

“i tutor him on wednesdays… he’s not really a friend friend” he explained, his voice coming out a little rougher than usual.

jake tried to maintain eye contact, but the proximity was a trap; his gaze dropped involuntarily to your cleavage before he forced it away, releasing a heavy breath like he was trying to remember literally anything other than the fact that for the first time in his life he felt a very physical urge to touch something.

“i don’t know…” he admitted shyly. “truth is, i don’t really know anyone here… i don’t even know what i’m supposed to do” his tone was low, only you could hear it over the music.

that vulnerability was the dirty hit. jake was unbearably lovable exactly because of that innocence. he wasn’t one of those guys who filled their phone storage collecting random girls’ nudes, nor was he the smelly nerd who forgot basic hygiene in the name of academic decathlons. he was clean, smelled good, ridiculously handsome, and had this genuine purity about the trivialities of social life that made you want to protect him from everything. seeing him there, so misplaced and so honest, made your heart jolt.

you were fucked.

you bit your lower lip, internally debating whether to just kiss him already and ruin any chance of preserving the friendship, or show him how to actually enjoy the party since you were already there and finals would start in two weeks. another excuse for the two of you to unwind a little.

“well… you don’t wanna go home yet, right?” you pouted slightly, tilting your head as he quickly shook his. “then let’s grab some drinks” you grabbed the denim jacket he was wearing and pulled.

you had a determined smile on your lips while jake let out endless “sorry” “excuse me” “my bad” like he was asking permission from the air itself to exist, as you crossed the packed living room until you reached the improvised bar in what looked like lee’s parents’ small wine cellar.

you scanned the menu written on cardboard with a disturbing amount of glitter and nudged his arm, encouraging him to pick one of the suspiciously named drinks. he alternated his gaze between the colorful letters and your face, laughing in pure indecision, genuinely grateful that you took the lead and chose for both of you.

the song blasting was straight 2000s pop nostalgia, making you sway lightly without caring, aware of his shy glances dropping to your hips, caught by the movement of your skirt and the metal details of your belt. jenny by studio killers was playing somewhere in the background and your ego mocked you internally.

jake’s head was an absolute mess of sensations. the denim jacket suddenly felt too warm over his shirt; the loud music made his organs vibrate in a rhythm he couldn’t predict; the inevitable brushing of sweaty skin against strangers… and most of all, you, in that damn outfit outlining every curve and doing violent things to his imagination, challenging the logic of just coworkers.

when the drinks were ready, you lifted your plastic cup with a casual “cheers” taking a long sip and watching over the rim as jake tried to imitate you, only to pull the most priceless grimace seconds later.

“okay. what the fuck is in this?” he coughed, throat burning.

“you don’t wanna know” you laughed, already feeling the light buzz hit your empty stomach.

and as if the stimulation wasn’t enough, seconds later jake felt a sudden weight on his shoulders. none other than evan appeared, clearly deep into drunken territory but radiating that captive energy of someone who owned the house and half the campus.

“heyy, if it isn’t my boy and… with a hot girl?! wow, i knew you had potential, jakey, but not this much…” he said to jake without taking his eyes off you; a crooked smile forming as he shamelessly stared at your cleavage and the pendants resting between your breasts. “wait, i know you, right? yn from anthropology… you called mr. nero sexist or something in the first week! holy shit!”

evan laughed loudly, beer breath hitting jake straight in the face, making his eyes water from the sting. he leaned his weight against the nerd’s shoulder to avoid collapsing, the bottle in his hand threatening to slip as he swayed.

“damn… you hit the jackpot, buddy…” he looked at jake, who stared at the situation with slightly furrowed brows, caught between embarrassment and confusion. “you know what they say… the ones who hate men are the best in bed”

he whispered it in what he clearly thought was a low tone, but it landed directly in both your ears.

jake’s ears burned a violent shade of red, the raw bluntness of the drunk comment hitting his shyness dead center. he was not subtle. evan chuckled, ruffled jake’s brown hair messily, and staggered away, but not before throwing you a wink.

the silence left between you and jake was palpable, loaded with a new, strange vulnerability that the comment had dragged. he stood frozen, unsure where to look, feeling the weight of that insinuation hovering between your spiked belt and his glasses. you held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, the bold words still floating in the air. then you, either to break the tension or to deal with the sudden heat crawling up your own neck, tipped back the rest of your drink in one sharp motion, nodding for jake to do the same before turning to order another round from the girl behind the counter.

***

the two of you were already on the fourth drink each, alternating between sips of that indecipherable mix and observations about the ecosystem of the party. you shared some random gossip about the people walking by, standing on your tiptoes to whisper into his ear; the warmth of your voice and the sudden proximity made jake bite his lower lip, keeping the corner of his eyes on you. at times, you steadied yourself with your palm pressed against his abdomen, feeling the firmness beneath his shirt, especially now that your balance was beginning to float and the floor seemed slightly tilted.

jake widened his eyes at every touch, and the urge to hold you by the waist was automatic whenever your legs faltered, his hands hovering in the air before settling the touch, making you laugh to yourself at the exaggerated care.

"you good there?" he asked quietly, bending his body to be able to look at you up close.

"i'm fiiine" you confirmed cheerfully, trying to rise above the volume of the music and failing; obviously.

you wondered - in some part of your consciousness that drifted far from reality sometimes - why he still seemed so under control. maybe he was one of those guys with strong genes for alcohol, who would take centuries to completely loosen up.

you looked at him with a silent challenge and then, after placing your cup on the counter and taking his from his hand doing the same, you grabbed the boy's arm with determination. taking a few steps back, pulling him out of the safe little corner where he was leaning.

"you know what? i think there's one last thing missing for you to fully experience a college party..."

jake looked without understanding, giving in very reluctantly while his feet were dragged by yours.

"yn, i think we've already overdone it..." he denied smiling, that smile of someone who is about to be convinced to do something reckless.

"uhm uhm" you shook your head, the expression in your face being the same as a mischievous child. "you're going to dance with me first..."

"oh… no no no" he refused placing his hand gently over yours trying to pull away. "i'm terrible at these things"

"pretty please? it'll be just a little..." you pouted and he froze.

and for god's sake, jake stuttered with the air he breathed, feeling his own fingers tighten on the hem of his jacket, his heart stopped and came back irregularly. he followed you, half uncertain, half hypnotized, to the center where the bodies danced and where disco lights, colored lasers and tutti-frutti scented smoke wrapped around everything.

"i've never danced like this..." the brunette looked around trying to find any example he could use to imitate, but none of that was possible, in public even less.

"just feel the music..." you urged, disappearing a little more into that human wave, while jake was sucked into the whirlwind that was being by your side.

and when you started dancing, for him, it was as if the world around lost focus and slowed down just so he could watch that scene.

you were so freaking beautiful.

blue and yellow beams cut through the dimness, lighting up your face, your makeup and the shine of your piercings, which became small sparkling blurs thanks to his nearsightedness, since his glasses insisted on not cooperating in that stuffy humidity.

his tense jaw from before dropped a little, his hands inert at his sides while he watched the sensual way you moved.

your fingers traced from your hip up to your neck in a fluid gesture, and when your eyes closed and you tilted your head back, jake felt the air in his lungs thinning. it was then that you took the final step: you grabbed his wrists and brought him into an unimaginable nearness, guiding his hands - which were sweating with anticipation - so that they fixed on your waist, following every movement you made.

your hand moved up his shirt until it reached the collar, curling your fingers there with a possessiveness that made him lose the ground. you pulled him down, forcing him to bend his posture until your faces were dangerously close, to the point that he could feel your breath and the scent of the drink mixed with your smell.

"imagine it's just me and you" you whispered, but the lip reading and the intention were so evident that he didn't need sound to understand.

jake nodded instinctively, his heart beating so hard that he was sure you could feel it through the layers of clothing. in that moment, logic, algebra studies and paralyzing shyness were replaced by something new; desire, in its most primitive form. his fingers closed with a little more strength on you, and he stopped fighting the environment. under the effect of the lasers and the absurd enclosure, his 'little world' reduced itself to the square meter where you brushed against each other to the beat of the music.

***

song after song, the minutes got lost between little comments and bass, sentences left hanging in the air, with no importance whatsoever compared to what was happening on a carnal level. jake was no longer just a spectator he moved with you, in sync, one of his thighs positioned between your legs while he felt his head spiral with the way you intentionally grinded, challenging every ounce of self-control he had left.

in an impulsive movement, thanks to a courage he didn’t even know where it came from, he made you turn your back to him, pressing your lower back against him; if his body were a machine, it would be in a critical state of overheating. his lips, damp and warm, brushed against your neck in a shy graze that soon became more provocative, while his thumbs slipped under your shirt from below, mapping your waist and feeling the unfair way your ass rubbed against his covered cock. jake was rock hard in there, even panting, his vision blurred and his judgment completely clouded.

"yn..." he murmured your name like it was a prayer or a cry for help.

he lost count of how many times the thought of kissing you crossed his mind, and he internally tormented himself for not being able to look away from your cleavage, which became even more exposed with the friction of your bodies. he tried shaking his head to chase the ideas away, pushing his glasses up with a trembling finger and wiping the sweat from the corners of his eyes, but he was surrendered. all it would take was for you to turn to him with those spoiled eyes and he would give up resisting.

"i wanted to do something..." you admitted, turning back to face him, pressing yourself against him to wrap your arms around his neck. "but i would hate if you ended up hating me for it" the words came out like a breath against his skin. jake paid attention, the world outside slowly ceasing to exist.

"i would never hate you" he laughed, biting his lower lip as usual while staring at you.

"are you sure? what if you"

you didn’t even get to finish. driven by a desperate decision, he himself ended the short distance between you in a brief seal, a touch of lips that lasted only a second before he pulled back slightly, looking at you for approval and dying of fear of your reaction.

"sorry, yn, i-i"

but you didn’t give space for the apology. you slid your hands from the back of his neck to his face, holding the boy’s cheeks and kissing him for real.

holy fuck

jake numbed. his wide eyes behind the lenses took at least five seconds to close, his brain processing that this wasn’t an alcohol-induced delusion. it took him even longer to relax his tense posture, but when he finally did, it was like a dam breaking.

his hands slid down urgently to your ass, squeezing it while his slender body curved over yours, giving in to the rhythm you dictated. when you deepened the kiss, asking for his tongue, jake let out a low sound in his throat, a mix of surprise and total surrender.

your mouths clashed in a needy, messy kiss that had been stored away for months, a tension accumulated between bookstore shelves that finally exploded. jake bit your lower lip with an urgency you didn’t expect, before tilting his head to the side and fitting the kiss perfectly against yours; it was sloppy, full of saliva, even starting to drip. you let out small sniffles, feeling your body soften in his arms. he definitely didn’t kiss like a nerd and there was no way to tell if he was just learning fast under pressure or if he had been hiding that talent all along.

you only pulled apart when someone, in a hard shove, hit his shoulder, making your teeth clash together. the scare disconnected your swollen lips, leaving you both staring at each other under the strobe lights, breathless. the air between you was heavy, dense, and neither of you wanted to stop yet.

"let’s go to my place..." you asked, your fingers still tangled in his hair, subtly pulling him closer; if that was even possible.

jake didn’t argue. there was no logical analysis, no concern about the time or what his dormmate would think since he was always home by 11pm at the latest.. he just held your hand and pulled you through the crowd until you found the house’s exit.

the cool night air hit your faces, but the desire still burned. you didn’t even know it, but jake had a scooter parked nearby; a small bike in coffee tones that, strangely enough, looked just like him.

he guided you to where the vehicle was and you couldn’t hold back a laugh.

"what?" he asked, looking over his shoulder while opening the compartment to grab an extra helmet for you.

"isn’t this way too imprudent, mr. jake sim?" you teased, amused, watching him approach.

jake didn’t answer immediately. he stopped in front of you, focusing on putting the helmet on your head, fastening the buckle with almost surgical care. his face was serious, concentrated, but that broke when he held your chin tilting your head a little to look up.

"as if you cared about prudence, miss" he finally replied, in a friendly tone, shrugging and making you raise an eyebrow.

the silent confidence that the alcohol and the kiss had brought him made you want to shove your entire wrist into your mouth. he still helped you get on the back seat and murmured for you to hold on properly which didn’t even take a second to happen, you wrapping your arms around his waist, playfully sliding your restless fingers over the fabric of his plain shirt, feeling his abdomen contract under your touch. jake knew the way. he had the address memorized since the day he offered to lend you his father’s record player. he felt unrecognizable, completely tamed by the need to have you, almost impatient, while you, feeling the wind hit your face and the warmth of his body between your arms, could only regret that your house was ten minutes away and not on the next block.

***

you stumbled in your boots on the stairs, the sound of your heels echoing through the quiet hallway until you finally reached the door of your apartment. you felt your fingers loose, a side effect of the liquor you had downed without thinking earlier, but it was the presence of the boy right behind that truly made you dizzy. when you finally managed to turn the key, you pulled him inside by the wrist in an impatient movement, tossing your bag into some random corner and his jacket into another.

you fell sitting on the edge of the bed when your calves hit it, and you saw jake kneel in front of you without you having to ask. he helped you with the laces of your shoes, his long and agile fingers undoing the complex knots with surprising skill, as if he were solving one of his magic cubes.

by that point, jake looked like a dream in your field of vision; his image was blurred because of the drunkenness, but the tension growing in your womb was very real. needy, you pulled him so he climbed onto the bed and, in a quick movement, switched positions, pulling a surprised gasp from him when you settled onto his lap.

"w-wait..." he tangled in his words, but you didn’t give him time, kissing him again with voracity.

"i fucking can't..." you mewled against the boy’s lips before asking for entrance with your tongue again.

the kiss was deep and deliciously clumsy, hands roaming over bodies that were still discovering each other. jake groped your skin, testing where to touch you and how to grab you, and you responded by lightly scratching his skin with the tips of your nails when you slipped your fingers into the waistband of his jeans, trying to pull the fabric down.

"take it off..." you murmured with a weak but commanding voice, which made jake swallow hard, his adam’s apple jumping in his throat.

"yn, i've never..." his sentence made you stop for a few seconds.

you interrupted the kisses that were now trailing down his sensitive neck, placing your hands on his firm chest and staring at him from above with a pleading expression, your eyes heavy with lust.

"you can tell me to stop then, ikeu..." you challenged in a whisper.

jake couldn’t stop even if his life depended on it. you were too much for him, a force of nature he had no way and no wish to contain. in response, he just pulled you into another urgent kiss, holding the back of your neck. he broke the seal only for a moment to look down, his trembling hands helping with the button and zipper of his own pants. and you moved like a cat in heat on top of him, eager to slide the fabric down his long legs.

your lips traced a trail of fire brushing from his collarbone down to his lightly sculpted abdomen, nibbling the pale skin and licking slowly, feeling the larger body tense. when you reached his pelvis, feeling one of his veins pulse under your wet tongue, you sucked right there making the small moans that escaped him turn into a low groan.

jake looked at your arched body over him, your ass raised and the ends of your hair spread across the sheets, and he cursed softly in a tone you had never heard him use. he was above average, a doctor had once said, which always made him cautious, fearing that any advance would be... overwhelming. but the thought was cut off the second you squeezed him over his underwear, with a curiosity stripped of any hesitation.

"hmm.. big.." you commented, your voice melting, while sliding your hand along his entire length.

"a-h... i-it’s okay if you don’t want to... it can be a little uncomfortable... and i-i don’t mind, we can just..." the instinct to explain and protect activated, and he started talking nonstop, the words tripping.

but the explanation died in his throat when you licked him slowly through the fabric. jake rolled his eyes back, throwing his head against the pillow and feeling his toes curl.

"what do you mean? i like it like that..." you said, with a simplicity that almost destroyed him.

you began spreading wet kisses along his thighs, which instinctively parted to give you more space. meanwhile, your hand continued the work, stroking him over the cotton, which quickly began to darken and dampen where the head rubbed. jake pressed his lips together so tightly they turned white, closing his eyes to try to keep the little control he had left.

until... everything stopped.

the sudden silence was more deafening than the party music. jake, with his head sunk into one of your pillows, stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, waiting for the next touch, the next command, anything. but the only thing he received was the sound of your breathing, which had become strangely light.

he propped himself up on his elbows, his heart still hammering in his chest, and looked down. you were completely passed out, lips slightly parted, cheeks squished and lashes resting. your head lay heavily on one of his thighs, and your hand was still resting over his member, which pulsed and twitched insistently under your now motionless touch.

jake sank back into the bed, letting out a low muffled whine, covering his face with both hands. the realization hit with the weight of a ton: the way the night had escalated, the fact that he had almost let himself be carried away by desire even knowing how much you had drunk, and the perception that he was completely in love with you. the moral panic colliding with the physical frustration of a man. he stayed there, in absolute silence for several long minutes, frozen, afraid to move and wake you.

***

the next morning you woke up feeling like death itself. your hair was full of knots and apparently you had slept in such a crooked position that your neck was even burning with pain on one side. the makeup? printed onto the bed sheets and your clothes twisted on your body. a trail of drool also marked from the corner of your mouth down to your chin. but the worst part was the headache. it wasn’t just pain, it was like someone had personally poured liters and liters of water in there and it was hard even to keep your balance.

after you finally managed to take off your clothes and get into the shower, you stayed almost half an hour there under the warm water, cleaning your face and body, trying to come back down to earth. you remembered very little from the night before. you remembered arriving, drinking, pulling jake to dance and kissing… after that everything had turned into a blur. but judging by the fact that you were at home, he had probably given you a ride.

you left the bathroom wrapped in a towel and went to throw yourself onto the bed again; you would have to change the sheets anyway. you grabbed your phone from the nightstand and noticed the notifications, pulling them down to open.

[jake🤓🐶]: good morning… about yesterday… thank you for going with me to the party. we ended up overdoing it with the drinks and you passed out when we got to your house haha [jake🤓🐶]: i locked your door and slid the key under it, so if you can’t find it just look on the floor… [jake🤓🐶]: i looked it up and you’ll probably wake up feeling bad, so try to eat light things, drink plenty of water and sleep 👍🏻 text me if you need any medicine [you]: hi. yeah, my head is about to explode… but it’s fine. thanks for worrying. hope it was fun for your first party

so no comments about what REALLY happened huh? you wanted to drag the conversation out, but your pride spoke louder, so you just decided you weren’t going to do that on a saturday morning. maybe jake was still processing everything, or maybe it just hadn’t meant anything. you felt a knot in your throat having flashes of the night, his mouth so soft against yours and the hands squeezing your waist, how could that not mean anything? you tossed and turned in bed, kicking your legs.

you got up and went to make something to eat and some chamomile tea to calm down. you spent the whole afternoon under the covers watching a show and only when the sun was setting you decided to get up and go to your computer. usually you and jake played together from that time on, but as soon as you logged into discord, entering the server you shared, ready to join the call where he was, apparently alone, he left; the little green circle around the icon disappeared and he changed his status to invisible. you gave an annoyed smile, squeezing the mouse in your hand.

had you done something beyond the kiss? actually, you clearly remembered that he had been the first to kiss you, regardless of whether the thought had crossed your mind before. you curled up in the chair and brought your finger to your mouth, biting the tip of your nail. your stomach churned, and you couldn’t tell if it was still because of the remnants of the alcohol or because you were feeling guilty and afraid you had ruined everything.

sunday was another day of zero contact. he didn’t even send you some random curiosity in the chat and you had already written and deleted countless attempts to call him. but what would you say? “hey sorry for ruining our friendship”?

in monday’s class your head was in the clouds, you didn’t even talk to your friends who were chatting about some pub they had gone to. you were irritated, if you couldn’t tap your mechanical pencil on the binder, you were biting your nails, and vice versa. you felt like you might die before it was time to go to work, but you didn’t, you just arrived late because you stayed fifteen minutes locked inside one of the college bathroom stalls, going over countless possibilities of what would happen when you saw each other in person.

when you walked in through the back door, heading to the staff room, you saw jake’s things already in the locker, meaning he would be at the counter when you went there. you put on your apron with difficulty and slipped your phone into your pocket before walking over.

jake had his back turned when you passed through the little wooden door, and he gave you a sideways glance, pressing his lips together and nodding… strangely quiet, no rambling about physics, about calculus, no news about superhero movies and games, not asking how your day had been. you felt your lunch come back up your esophagus, but you controlled yourself, sitting down just as silent, and for the first time in 3 months putting your headphones back on.

next to you, jake hunched his shoulders even more, pretending he was focused on reading the comic when his head couldn’t even put two sentences together because it was so overwhelmed with thoughts. he still felt horrible for thinking he had taken advantage of you… he had simply gone from someone with no experience at all to someone awfully bad. he didn’t feel entitled to be your friend anymore, or whatever you really were. his foot kept tapping against the chair support nonstop, making the rest of his body tremble a little. the tasks you used to do together, he split into a spreadsheet that would stay on the library computer. he would handle cleaning the tables, you would organize the counter. you cataloged the books and he shelved them, it was practical, you didn’t even have to talk.

***

a week passed like that. and by friday, both of you were a wreck. it was the first time you had seen jaeyun with dark circles under his eyes. when you were about to leave the locker room, you ran into him as he was coming in just to grab something.

“sorry” you said quietly.

“it’s okay, i’m sorry too,” he replied and then stepped aside, holding the door for you to pass.

you couldn’t even look at each other for more than half a second.

when the door closed you still stood there, staring at the little sign that read ‘staff only’, parting your lips thinking about saying that you didn’t want to keep going like this… that he could at least go back to talking, that you missed the way he talked about things you had zero curiosity about but ended up remembering because the sound of his voice was addicting, how you wanted to know about the games he was playing and if he had customized any other character to look like you…

“yn?” you heard, being pulled forcefully from your trance as jake opened the door again.

“jake…” you replied and looked at him, but nothing came out after that.

“can i get through?” he indicated, pointing down, you were standing in front blocking the way.

“can we talk?” you retorted, looking away and not noticing how at that exact moment the boy blushed and lowered his head.

“l-look, yn… i, i don’t know what to say. what ended up happening last week was a mistake, i admit it. it’s just that…” he said hurried and hesitant, even up close, avoiding you.

his words hit you right in the chest.

he thought it had been a mistake.

your heart hurt. if you had thought your poorly resolved one-night thing had been shitty, this was about to become your biggest trauma. you felt your eyes water, but you held back, smiling and swallowing hard, with difficulty.

“no, you are totally right. it was a mistake. and it won’t be repeated, i am really sorry”

“am i interrupting something?” you both heard a third voice coming from behind. clint approached holding a clipboard. “why is the central counter empty?”

“i was just heading there” jake answered quickly, nodding to the older man and looking at you one more time before leaving.

“and you, ms. yln? any problem?” the nasal voice turned to you.

“no. just… dust allergy” you lied, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand and sniffling before turning around.

***

you couldn’t take it anymore.

after that short and dry dialogue that had felt more like a sentence, everything stayed the same: another week of complete silence, tasks coldly divided and your music playing low in your headphones, in a ridiculous hope that he would start any kind of conversation with you during the afternoon. you were sure that quitting the job was the best thing to do; that way, the worlds that had once collided wouldn’t have to meet again.

you were at the dean’s office, waiting to be called in by mr. clint. you felt nervous, with the sensation that you might throw up at any moment as you stared at your own feet.

“you can come in” the secretary called.

you stood up and walked into the office, watching the old man close a file book and lift his gaze to you. you tightened the strap of your crossbody bag and remained standing.

“anything I can help you?” he went straight to the point.

“mr. clint, i needed to-”

“ah, before you say it, i need to ask you a favor” he cut you off, with a tired voice and demeanor of someone who had already exhausted all options and didn’t want to deal with the matter anymore. “i know you hate it, but i’m going to need you to take the night shift tomorrow. the guy who usually comes is sick”

you froze, mouth slightly open, completely stunned.

“do you think you can do it? want to tell me what brought you here first? if it’s about the new cart… finance still hasn’t released the funds”

there was an immediate internal conflict. maybe if you asked to leave next month… it would be a way to show respect to the job that had paid for your concerts and your clothes until now… it would also give you time to do interviews and find something somewhere else…

“no… it’s fine, i’ll do it” you confirmed with a faint, unenthusiastic smile. “great, i’ll confirm it with jaeyun too” he stood up, already grabbing his phone and walking out of the office, leaving you there with a bitter taste in your mouth.

***

the library at night took on a different vibe. the huge windows weren’t enough for the streetlights and the moon to illuminate the interior, leaving most of the aisles submerged in total darkness since the led lights focused only on the central and study areas. to make it worse, one of those winter rains was falling, the kind that starts slowly and promises to last all night, leaving the air icy. normal hours were until 7pm, which meant that from 8pm till 4am you would stay there with not much to do, just waiting for the moment to open the back gate for the cleaning staff, which consisted of two old ladies.

you arrived carrying a small bag with an energy drink and some sour candies to trick the sleep away. you stored your things in the locker and went back to the counter, feeling the cold crawl up your calves. you hadn’t even bothered to put on the apron, staying only in your tank top with a windbreaker over it. the manager was giving final instructions to jake while you finished adjusting yourself.

“if anything happens, call me or the police, alright?” it was just precaution, according to him, it wasn’t like the campus had some kind of book maniac.

as soon as the man left, the silence of the library seemed to triple in size. jake, without saying a single word, started cataloging some books, adjusting his glasses on his nose from time to time. he had switched the tasks, avoiding any activity that required him to stand still beside you at the counter.

you sighed and put on your headphones, but didn’t press play. you wanted to hear the sound of the rain… you opened a social media app and started scrolling without really seeing anything. the tension between you was like an elephant in the room, a heavy presence that made the air hard to breathe.

jake was only a few meters away, the desk lamp casting dramatic shadows across his face. he seemed more uneasy than usual, and the way he turned the pages was almost mechanical, stripped of that clumsy and goofy little way you loved so much about him. you sighed, feeling your stomach tighten. it was your last chance to understand why the boy who had kissed you so hungrily on the dance floor now acted like you were an unwanted ghost.

suddenly, a louder thunderclap made the windows vibrate. the library lights flickered violently, the filament of the old bulbs letting out a dry snap. jake stopped what he was doing, looking up and then at you. you kept your focus on your phone…

the truth was that those days had been the worst jake had ever faced in his life. worse than the bullying in high school or when he had fucked up his freshman year because he felt so out of place in a class with almost 100 people that he had simply stopped showing up for an entire month. and he swore he tried to understand, he had rationalized the situation in every possible way, he had even written a letter in his phone notes.

he had never felt that before, it was suffocating not to talk to you, not to hear your voice humming songs all afternoon or see your confused expression when he said something bizarrely scientific.

he wanted to comment on the storm outside. he wanted to say he found it interesting how the atmosphere could become a giant conductive plasma in a matter of milliseconds, as if the skies were trying to balance an unbalanced equation… like the two of you in that moment. he held himself back, squeezing the book in his hands, but as soon as he turned ready to say something, you suddenly stood up and grabbed the cart already full of books to shelve them.

of course, he had divided it that way.

jake sank into the chair and threw his head back, huffing and massaging his temples, where was he not understanding? why had everything gotten so strange? why didn’t you seem angry but sad?

you, on the other hand, couldn’t rationalize anything. you pushed the damn broken cart toward the romance section, grabbing three heavier books into your arms before pulling the small ladder to climb. you held on tight, going up at least three steps before starting to rearrange the stories to make space for the new ones.

a harsh flash tore across the sky, lighting up the library windows as if it were daytime, followed by a crack of electricity that seemed to whip against the walls. the thunder came right after, so loud the floor vibrated beneath your feet, and in the same instant, the hum of the machines and the artificial light died. the darkness that followed was absolute. you waited for the click of the emergency lights, but the silence continued.

“great” you muttered into the void. you hugged the books against your chest and felt along the metal ladder, trying to climb down carefully. the mistake was careless: the untied shoelace. as you tried to take the first step, your foot got caught and the world spun. you fell backward, your body hitting the ground with a dry impact while the ladder collapsed beside you with a deafening crash. in the middle of the fall, the back of your head struck one of the shelves behind you.

you let out a sharp groan, curling up on the cold floor. the pain was throbbing. you brought a hand to your head, feeling the spot of impact, praying you wouldn’t feel the sticky warmth of blood.

“yn? yn…!” jake’s shout came from the start of the aisle.

a beam of light appeared - a flashlight that stayed in the second drawer of the counter - and soon he was kneeling beside you, his face pale under the white light. he dropped the flashlight to the side and held your face with both hands, his fingers trembling.

“fuck, i’m sorry. so sorry! no, don’t do it! don’t move! if you hit the back of your head, you can’t turn your neck, the impact could’ve affected your spine or caused a displacement we can’t see! i’m calling an ambulance!”

you hissed in pain, but managed to grab his wrist before he dialed.

“calm down… it was just a fall” you murmured, your voice weak.

“do you have any idea how dangerous a concussion can be? the glasgow coma scale exists for a reason! if you show retrograde amnesia or cognitive dysfunction in the next few hours, that indicates a mild to moderate traumatic brain injury and-” he rambled, words fumbling over while he checked your pupils.

“jake!” you said louder, looking at him firmly despite the dizziness. “i’m fine, okay? just… help me up, please”

he stopped immediately, swallowing hard. silence returned for a few seconds while he helped you stand with almost sacred slowness. jake scanned every inch of your body looking for any other sign of injury, his arms hovering around your waist without quite touching, like an invisible protective barrier ready to catch you if you faltered. you lifted the ladder together and you tossed the dented books into the cart, noticing how he dusted his hands on his jeans, his eyes still fixed on you.

“are you sure you don’t want to go? i… they can come get you, i wouldn’t go with you, i wouldn’t bother you” he tried to reassure you. “seriously, i’m sorry. i should’ve taken that task, like i always do. if i hadn’t stepped away, you wouldn’t have”

the rambling started again and you gave a small smile before letting out a soft laugh, raising the white flag, almost in disbelief, lowering your gaze…

“what? what’s funny?” he asked, confused.

“you… the way you are” you answered, rubbing the sore back of your neck and taking a step to the side. “the fact that i had to go through a near-death experience to get you talking like before… when things were normal” your body swayed a little, but you supported yourself with your hand.

his shoulders dropped and he chewed on the inside of his cheek, thoughtful.

“i don’t get it…” he whispered.

“what don’t you get?” you looked up at him, your heart beating harder than the pain in your head. “tell me, jake, what got unclear between us? because if there’s anything i can do to change it, i’ll do it”. the words came out without permission, and you meant every single one of them, not backing down now even with the imminent urge to cry and the exhaustion of several badly slept nights.

jake sighed.

“that day… the party. i’ve never felt that way before, i’ve never felt the need to touch something or someone like that… it was almost… intoxicating, like i wasn’t in control…” he started slowly, still figuring out how to put his thoughts together. “and when we kissed… it was… it felt so right, you know? but then we went to your house and fuck… you were so hot, so determined, and so… my god, so drunk” he said almost whining. “you blacked out, and all i could think afterward was that i was really going to do that, even with you that drunk… and now, i feel like i don’t even deserve to be around you” he admitted, sniffling and adjusting his glasses.

you looked at him and then your gaze drifted to the space between you. that was what had happened and you didn’t remember it at all.

you tilted your head back and closed your eyes, covering your face with your hands and pressing.

“you thought i was mad?” you asked, just to fit the final missing piece into place.

“well… if you felt like i used you, wouldn’t that be the most likely outcome?” he shot back.

you laughed again, first softly and then almost crying. you looked at him once more and pressed your lips together.

“that day, jake, i wanted you more than anything” you said directly. “not just that day, but the day before and every moment, since the first day i saw you until just now…” you spoke with a lighter expression, watching through the movement of his eyebrows as jake tried to connect all the dots.

“so you didn’t think i was some kind of asshole?”

“that was the last thing i would ever think about you” you stepped forward and reached for his hand, looking down as you intertwined your fingers.

“yn…” he called one last time. “hm?” when you lifted your head, his eyes said enough.

***

at first your lips only brushed each other, a chaste kiss almost apologetic beginning slow. your bodies still kept a minimal distance, but jake soon took care of eliminating it by holding your wrist up, pulling you close to him, while his free arm finally wrapped completely around your waist. you melted right there, feeling all the negative feelings - the guilt, the silence, the doubt - fade like smoke as your muscles relaxed at the slightest touch. there was nothing in your mind that wasn’t him, him and him.

jake called your name, his voice hoarse and drawn out between your lips, but you denied any interruption, just continuing the seal, wanting to recover every lost second.

when he let go of your wrist, your hand went straight to his cheek, stroking the warm skin as you pulled him closer, wanting more depth.

“you’re not in pain…?” he tried to murmur, his voice failing.

“i don’t care…” you answered with absolute certainty, pulling back just enough to see him blush under the flashlight’s glow.

he looked so beautiful like that, disarmed. the kiss returned, but now it was more urgent, with more tongue and your nails slipping behind the collar of his shirt. jake’s hands lost their shyness slightly - without alcohol in his blood to help - moving up and down your back, mapping the sides of your body and dragging you by the hips until he pressed you against the bookshelf. the soft impact made the books vibrate and you let out a needy gasp that he swallowed. you bit his lower lip and sucked, feeling him shudder.

“i-i don’t want to stop this time” jake panted against your mouth, breath heavy.

“we’re not going to” you assured, exposing your neck to him as his mouth kissed the base of your throat.

jake’s tongue, slow and exploratory, licked the entire area, not caring about leaving a trail, not caring about the saliva or how your moans broke the decorum of the library. you tangled your fingers in the dark strands at the nape of his neck, pulling, squeezing his broad shoulder to steady yourself.

“shiit… do you know what you’re doing?” you asked, laughing softly between shivers.

“i have… no idea… just need you so fucking bad… why?”

“because it’s working…”

the raw confession was the trigger. he continued, pulling the sleeves of your sweatshirt down after opening the zipper with your help. little by little, the heavier pieces were forgotten on the cold library floor. jake slid his swollen mouth to one of your shoulders, leaving a bite there, climbing up your collarbones and chin as if he wanted to mark you entirely. he pulled your thigh on impulse to fit himself better against you, listening to every reaction you gave to what he was doing.

“show me how to do it… please…” he begged, pressing his forehead to yours, eyes shining with an intensity you had never seen, even in the dark. “i promise i’ll be good… so good to you…”

your head spun, brows furrowing as you kissed him again, almost animalistic. your tongues even slipped out of your mouths, his hands found your ass and squeezed. you lifted your hips slightly without any control, craving the contact. when you pulled apart again, you held onto him, bringing him with you. the darkness of the library was total, but you already knew that path by heart. you walked, tripping over each other, between kisses and anxious giggles, until you reached the counter again. you pushed his shoulders until the boy fell back seated in the chair, looking at you from there with his clothes bunched up.

you mounted the inviting lap and scattered little kisses across his face, until your mouth was near his ear to whisper. “don’t overthink… just do what you want… what do you want now?”

jake listened and his skin prickled… he placed his hands on your hips now intentionally and helped you in a slow back and forth, biting his lower lip hard. you nodded and kept going. “like this? do you want me to grind on you?” and the boy nodded repeatedly, holding back his moans as his member swelled even more inside his underwear.

“yeah..?” you nibbled his lobe, closing your eyes when your tight jeans and his pressed exactly where you needed, increasing the way you were riding him. you could feel your panties getting soaked, but even so you wasn’t giving more than this yet. you made sure to moan and scratch his arms, feeling his restless hands only stop when they reached your tits, squeezing hard and pulling little mewls from you.

“pl… y-yn, please…” he babbled. jake was a thread away from coming undone inside his pants and deep down you really wanted that… especially if it meant he would be all embarrassed afterward, but you stopped, just as affected as he was, sliding down until you were on your knees in front of him.

locking your gaze with his, you waited for him to lift his hips to help you with his jeans, pulling them down and tossing them aside. the white boxer deliciously failed to hide his cock slick with pre-cum. you only lowered the waistband, letting the hard length spring free, hitting against his abdomen. it was too big… the veins pulsed and his tip was an intensely flushed pink from how aroused he was. you spat into your palm and brought it to him, sliding from head to base, squeezing his soft balls with the other hand, watching him make a pitiful little face with his mouth parted.

“want me to suck you off?” you asked mischievously, mimicking his expression.

“mhmm. yes. yes, please…” he begged, trembling at every stroke of your hand that struggled to close fully around him because of the thickness.

you kept masturbating him for a while longer, watching jake alternate between gripping his own shirt and the arms of the chair, knuckles white from the force. what did he have to do for you to finally put your precious little mouth on him? he was going insane.

in a slightly rough and clumsy movement – purely survival - he grabbed your head, pushing you down and lifting his pelvis in a thrust, making you smile satisfied between his fingers. that was exactly how you wanted to teach him.

you opened your mouth and reached him, wrapping around the head first before sliding him further inside, feeling the corners of your lips burn as you had to force yourself to fit him entirely. jake uttered something unintelligible, his head falling back and eyes rolling before he himself began to set the pace, fingers tangling in your hair with new firmness. he felt your warm breath against his pubis; when he looked down he saw your little face all puffed up while taking him.

shit. shit. he was not god’s strongest soldier. you choked when he brushed against the inner wall of your throat, drooling even more over him and forcing yourself to keep the movement while grabbing one of his thighs, taking out the lack of air on the firm flesh. the sounds you made were downright pornographic, echoing in the silence of the library and making jake’s blood boil.

***

when you were taking him more easily - adjusted to his size -, he lowered one of his hands, wrapping it around your neck with care but possessiveness, feeling exactly how deep he was reaching.

he was hypnotized by the sight: the mix of saliva and pre-cum spilling from your mouth, your pretty doe eyes rolling back and the tears of effort shining at the corners of your lashes.

“f-uck i’m coming…” he gasped, body curling as he clenched his teeth, forcing you further down on him while his pelvis lifted without rhythm, just need.

and you took it, everything he had to give.

cock so thick it pressed against the little bell of your soft palate, his pubis rubbing against your nose every time he thrusted upwards. your pussy fluttered just from that, hardened nipples brushing against your bra and your nails digging into him.

he came spilling cum down your throat, which you swallowed with eagerness, the excess slipping out, smearing your chin, your hands… even dribbling a little from your nose when you coughed because of your gag reflex sore and abused. it took him a few seconds to remove his hand from your head, letting you rise and slide his cock out again. you breathed fast, wiping your mouth uselessly with the back of your hand.

“sorry…” he breathed hoarsely, but you shook your head as you looked at him, rising again to kiss him.

“you did well…” you praised, feeling him smile.

“want to return the favor…” he sniffed softly, sliding his hands to your waist and pulling you up so you both stood.

jake unbuttoned your pants smoothly helping you kick the fabric aside after. he surprised you when he lifted you up effortlessly, setting you on the counter quickly. you kissed while he searched for your pussy to massage over your panties. he rubbed where it was wet, drawing muffled little moans from you, but it was when you placed your hand over his, guiding the movement, making him use his thumb over your swollen, covered clit that he had you writhing.

he watched closely, the way you had to break the kiss just to squirm and moan while guiding him, and especially how, whenever he pressed that swollen spot, your back arched; he was a fast learner. jake sat down again, pulling you to the edge of the counter, holding one of your heels and placing it up there to have you spread wide. he didn’t know anything about the practicality of it, he just knew what he wanted and that he’d figure it out.

more attentive to how your wet pussy had chewed the cotton fabric between your small lips before pushing the panties aside, staring shamelessly at the slick, pulsing cunt in front of him. “it’s so pretty…” he said before placing a slow kiss, enough to make his mouth wet. “tell me if i do something wrong…” he added before looking up at you from there and sinking his mouth into you.

the first licks were almost exploratory, as if he were mapping unknown territory. he tested every texture with devoted curiosity: the firmer flesh of your mound, the soft inner lips ready to slide, the entrance that clenched at the slightest touch. but when his tongue found your clit, the smooth, slippery texture made him let out a low sound of approval.

he opened his mouth wide, taking in as much as he could before sucking greedily, as if savoring a juicy fruit. when he pulled back, the slick sound of wet skin echoed in the silence of the library, a damp noise that made your lower belly throb. he repeated the motion, gaining confidence, until he stretched his tongue and tried going deeper, using the curious muscle to push into your channel while swallowing every drop of lubrication you poured over him. “taste m’so good…”

jake lifted his eyes, looking at you from behind his lenses - now crooked - only when he felt the weight of your hand in his hair, guiding him.

using his own fingers to spread the flesh and expose your most sensitive point, he captured your clit, sucking it firmly and continuously, the tip of his tongue flicking and swirling over your sensitive bud as you muffled a cry by biting your own wrist.

he flattened his tongue, moving it from bottom to top and side to side, letting the little bead drag across the muscle before returning to suck with intensity. the suction grew rhythmic, noisy, you cursed through your teeth and let out drawn-out moans, feeling your stomach tighten as you pulled his hair.

“j-jake… hhmm…” your whole body trembled while he lost himself between your legs, oblivious to anything else around. “let’s fuck.. hnng please…”

the sweet little sound when he detached his mouth from your cunt and lifted his head, slightly dazed, looking at you in confusion, almost made you change your mind. “already? i wanted… you to cum too” his eyes studied your expression while his fingers still played with your sex.

“i want to cum… but it’s going to be on your cock” you told him, sliding off the counter with his help.

you took off your shirt and unclasped your bra, watching him pull his shirt off as well, both of you completely naked. you climbed back onto his lap and smiled, kissing him slowly. “you did so well… your mouth felt so good…” you praised, noses brushing while one hand slipped between your bodies to hold him, aligning him with your entrance.

“wanted to taste you more...” his head swam, your flavor clinging to every taste bud, every one of his senses utterly consumed by you.

“you’ll have plenty of chances to do that…” you whispered, before lowering your weight and taking him halfway in at once.

jake seemed to fall apart the exact second he felt your pussy envelop him. the sensation was overwhelming, hot, slick, absurdly tight. your walls fluttered repeatedly, hands digging into his shoulders as you tried to accommodate every inch while he huffed, air leaving his lungs as if he’d just run a marathon. his moans were low, heavy with a pleasure that bordered on agony.

“fu… you’re so tight” he whimpered, voice breaking. jake couldn’t even keep his head up, resting it against yours while his arms circled your waist as if you were the only thing keeping him conscious.

you had never felt so complete. he filled every space, every curve of your spongy walls. wrapping your arms around his neck, you forced yourself to sink the rest of the way down, taking him fully. your eyes rolled back and a long moan slipped out when you felt his head press against your cervix in that position.

“f-funcking big… god…” you panted, trying to relax your muscles so you could start moving.

slowly, you began to move your hips up and down. it was a delicious torture to feel your silken folds dragging along his entire length, completely stretched. he murmured incoherent things against the curve of your neck, pulling air through his teeth in a sharp hiss.

feeling you needed more stability, you guided his large hands to your thighs, whispering for him to help you bounce.

his touch changed instantly. jake gripped your thighs firmly, fingers digging into your skin, starting to thrust your hips up and down. the slow rhythm was replaced with something steadier. each time you dropped down hard, the sound of bodies meeting echoed in the empty place, mixing with the rain outside. jake was in a trance, glasses fogged and face buried against you.

his restless mouth slid to one of your hardened nipples, sucking and making you whine softly. the loud plap plap plap and your clit striking hard against his base left you disoriented.

with every thrust you both unraveled more, jake turning into a babbling mess while you impaled yourself on the hard length, biting your lower lip to control the noise, gripping the edge of the counter and rolling your hips, making him hit your g-spot every time. you were goosebumped, sweaty, breathless, holding his face so he would look at you.

“do you want to cum inside? h-hmm?” you asked with difficulty, watching him nod desperately. “use your words”

“yes, ma’am hnng… i… please. cum-ng i-inside”

“g-good boy” you said before claiming his lips again, dropping down on him with vigor, making the chair springs squeak each time.

when you came together, jake’s whole body went rigid, holding you tight against his lap as he poured every drop of semen inside you. your arms and thighs trembling as you held onto him.

your ragged breathing taking time to settle.

jake was sweaty and marked with nail scratches, his mouth swollen and raw from so much biting. you weren’t much different, strands of hair stuck to your face, neck, shoulders… your neck covered in hickeys he’d left without even noticing and your lower belly aching.

even when you relaxed, you made no move to get off him, and he didn’t mind. the boy inhaled deeply before kissing your cheek, as if calling you to look at him. and when you did, he was there again with that mastered lost-puppy expression.

“what?” you asked with a tired smile.

jake looked up, thinking, then back at you, giggling a little.

“did you know the human heart produces enough energy to drive a truck for 30 kilometers in a day?” his smile widened and he laughed, making you look at him comically. “it’s just… my heart is beating so fast right now i think it could cross the country” he finished, burying his face in your neck again. “in other words…”

he took a deep breath, going quiet for a moment.

“i think i love you”

he confessed, making your cheeks lift, grateful for the darkness so he couldn’t see how embarrassed you were.

“well… you’d have to beat me in a race first, and i’m pretty sure you’d lose…” you replied simply, shrugging as he lifted his head to narrow his eyes at you mischievously.

“i think i love you too”

*

the shrill sound of bells ringing signaled the end of the final round! on one side a boy slumped, hunched over, eyes unfocused, without any strength left, on the other niki, as everyone called him; a thin trickle of blood ran from his brow down to his chin where it dripped and stained the rubberized floor, but the adrenaline simply kept him from caring.

the central referee approached, pulling him by the shoulder and raising his arm, victorious. he smiled tiredly, showing off his mouthguard covered in diamond patterns and looking around.

the arena went wild.

nishimura was the sensation of the moment, pointed out by several articles as the 'future of mma', he was only 20 years old, but had a great thirst for victory. banners were raised in celebration and you, the boy’s agent, stood outside clapping and shouting encouragement. with that result he could finally earn better sponsors, and climb quite a bit in the rankings. the team gradually gathered, some hugging, others greeting each other as they exchanged congratulations...

that is... until the announcer drew everyone’s attention again.

"wait, what’s this? it looks like the jury panel are signaling to the referee! they’re checking the footage from the second round!", the celebration was interrupted.

quickly the feeling of excitement was replaced by one that made the heart race just as much; anxiety. you hurried over as well, alongside your boy who stepped down from the octagon with his eyes widening, not understanding. "what’s going on? i won, didn’t i?", he asked hoarsely and breathless after removing the mouthguard. his sweaty, heated body slowly beginning to feel the thermal shock from the venue’s air conditioning.

the arena fell into complete silence as the commentators explained the situation and the replay was shown on the big screens.

the two of you came closer to the panel where they analyzed the monitors. on each screen, different timings of the replay showed riki being pressed against the fence. to avoid being taken down, his fingers, by instinct, curled into the gaps of the wire mesh, pulling it to regain balance. it was a half-second movement and enough for the judges to change the score.

"ladies and gentlemen, we have an unbelievable turn of events! confirmed! violation for holding the fence in the second round. the judges are deducting one point from fighter nishimura. with that, the final score that would have been 29-28 in favor of the japanese fighter now becomes 28-28. we have a majority draw!"

the suspense in the arena, however, was not broken by any of the spectators - who were still trying to understand how something like that could nullify such an overwhelming victory - but instead by the opposing coach, who let out a mocking laugh, intentionally commenting out loud that the prodigy was just another cheater.

and he got exactly what he expected. it was the perfect trigger. within seconds riki had him by the collar, gripping him - to the point his knuckles turned white - eyes locked, nostrils flared, asking over and over if the man would repeat that to his face and saying they could settle his discomfort in a more direct way. the grip was so tight that the tape wrapped around his fingers snapped and the other man’s shirt collar stretched loose.

the scene played before your eyes like slow motion.

when you first met the boy, it was during one of the sponsor visits to the gym where he trained. the group had asked the boys to organize among themselves to fight and show their best. the matches would all be balanced and everyone knew each other, without exception. there was only one problem, none of the others wanted to fight him.

at first, he was just another quiet dude, head down, lip bruised in a familiar way, but as the eliminations went on, riki grew more and more intimidating, more aggressive and out of control. it was in the final bout when he wouldn’t stop hitting even as his teammate tapped the floor in surrender that your superior decided to call him to sign an exclusive contract. he was young, very strong, a bit unbalanced, but your boss believed that with some guidance from a personal agent he could achieve great results; in other words, he was willing to turn riki into his fighting dog and profit enormously from him.

members of both teams moved to pull them from each other, the man raising his hands as if surrendering, reinforcing the blond’s image of being unstable. the head coach grabbed riki by the shoulders, dragging him away toward the locker rooms, and you threw a towel so they could cover his face while passing through the press and the crowd gathering at the exits.

the previous silence now gone, shouts, questions, the sound of camera flashes, commentators once again discussing the fight and technical mistakes that had already proven fatal in other mma moments. you refrained from answering any reporters, leaving the arena with the rest of the team.

"that was quite a reaction from little niki, don’t you think?", one commentator remarked, triggering laughter from the other two. "i think he needs to learn a thing or two about temperament before trying to climb the rankings."

***

as soon as you finally entered the room, the first thing you saw was nishimura throwing his gloves away, hard and far, then moving to kick the coffee table - and the decorations on top of it - and punching the nearest drywall. the blond’s voice came out like an angry growl as he cursed in his native language.

the coach wore an expression of someone not surprised by the reaction and who would do nothing to stop it, the cutman didn’t even dare suggest cleaning the open cut on the boy’s eyebrow, everyone grabbing their gear and leaving the ticking time bomb to you. "see you at the meeting" the last one said on his way out, and you gave a faint smile, arms crossed, waiting for riki to sit on the couch before approaching him.

the boy dropped onto the narrow black leather sofa and held his head with both hands, elbows resting on his knees, staring down.

"have you calmed down a bit? you know i’m not coming near you while you’re like this, right?" your voice was low, calm, restrained.

there was no answer, but he didn’t move anymore either, just tapping his bare foot repeatedly against the floor, anxious, impatient.

you picked up the hoodie he had brought in his bag and carried it over to him, sitting beside him and extending the change of clothes. "get changed, i’ll tell the driver to wait for us at the back entrance" you said. riki snatched the item from your hands, clicking his tongue as he stood up to put them on.

the exchange of messages on your phone was brief, everyone was always on standby on competition days. and it was obvious you would play dumb about all the adjacent messages the sponsor had already sent you, at least for now. truthfully, you weren’t in a much better position than the fighter, it was your first real job, and you were still in your early twenties; it wasn’t as if you inspired much respect from the man who paid a large portion of your salary.

riki finished dressing and put on sunglasses, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and walking out behind you.

if you were good at playing dumb with the agency’s demands, he was good at pretending the media didn’t exist. he didn’t stop to answer invasive questions or even the reasonable ones, didn’t smile, and didn’t step aside, which resulted in several shoulders being bumped. the young man slid into the back seat of the car and slammed the door shut while you once again declined interviews and blocked one of the cameras pressed against the window trying to film and photograph through the tinted glass, before walking around and getting in on the other side.

"where to?"

"let’s head back to the apartment. you’re off after that, aj."

"thank you, ma'am."

the ride inside the vehicle was suffocating. the low volume of the radio did nothing to ease the tension. riki stared out the window, but his aura radiated a state of nerves that made your skin prickle; it was almost as if his anger wasn’t limited to the mistake he had made or the opponent’s provocation, but to everyone who had witnessed it… everyone who had been there during his humiliation, especially you.

***

the door opened after you entered the code into the digital lock. nishimura walked in, still head down, without saying a word since the arena. he tossed his backpack somewhere in the living room and went straight to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. you sighed and headed to the kitchen, getting some water for yourself and leaning against the counter before returning one of the many calls you had received.

"yes, yes, he’s aware of the rules. he has been training, yes" you replied unenthusiastically. "i understand the frustration, sir, i understand about the sponsorships as well, but it was a technical mistake and-, i’ll handle it".

your exact role as niki’s agent was to manage his career, the bureaucratic and unbearable part, the marketing, what he posted on instagram or what he absolutely could not post. however, from the very first day, you had both been placed to share an apartment, and so your extra function became that of a full-time babysitter.

you grocery shopped together, bought clothes, you were the one who received his deliveries, you were the one the boy talked to about trivial things and the more complicated feelings, it was you he called to watch a movie or try a new recipe, to watch him play some game he liked, or simply sit in the same space doing nothing. in short, the closest person he had since the contract.

you knew about his explosive temper, knew about the heavy armor he hid behind when things didn’t go his way, knew about the distance from his family… you also knew he was always in a good mood when he had natto for breakfast, that he loved playing basketball on the court of the apartments complex, and that he preferred handheld consoles over computer games.

riki was young, even younger than you. carrying the weight of thousands of people’s expectations on his shoulders. he needed to perform well, he needed to qualify, climb the rankings, win… he needed to be “the niki” people admired. there was no room to be anything else.

you answered a few more emails and put your phone on silent, not intending to respond to anything else. you finished your water and turned around, leaning back against the marble counter as you opened the delivery app. if you ordered his favorite food, maybe you could sit down and talk for a bit.

you ordered from the restaurant you were already used to. rice balls, ramen, some grilled meat, and a taiyaki for dessert.

you left your phone there and went to the bathroom, grabbing a first aid kit from the cabinet before heading to his room. you knocked once, calling softly, and on the second try you noticed the door wasn’t locked. when you stepped inside, riki was finishing putting on a pair of jeans, the fresh scent mixing with his woody cologne, his broad back still dotted with droplets of water running down, making it clear he had just come out of the shower.

"are you going out? i just ordered food" leaning against the doorframe, watching him.

"not in the mood" he answered dryly, sitting on the edge of the bed to put on his sneakers.

"you should at least take care of your cut first," you said simply, receiving a faint side smile as a response; meaning: he wouldn’t. "i see" you concluded. "well, don’t do anything you’ll regret later" you added before stepping away from the doorway.

that was new.

he usually stayed quiet for a while after one of his outbursts, but he always preferred staying home, specifically in his room. you thought maybe he just needed some air, or a change of scenery. so you didn’t insist. truthfully, you didn’t have the energy to either, since the situation was awful for everyone.

you walked to the living room and dropped onto the couch, burying your face into the cushions. you always felt like screaming whenever things slipped out of control, but you never did, always wanting to set an example for him. you always chose to put on headphones or take an extra long hot shower, but never to physically release your feelings, even though you were fully aware it would probably be far more effective.

"have fun-" you were cut off by the loud sound of the front door slamming shut as he rushed out. "okay…"

***

neon lights sliced through the room in shades of blue and violet, but to riki, everything looked monochrome. the loud music pounded against his temples, as if the dj himself were there hammering at his skull, competing with the relentless echo of those infernal bells from the octagon and the commentators’ laughter that wouldn’t leave his head. the drink in his hand had already gone warm, the melted ice watering down the liquor he barely felt like swallowing whenever he brought it to his lips.

in front of him stood a pretty girl whose name he had already forgotten three times. her lips moved animatedly. it was something irrelevant, maybe about a party or someone they both knew, but to him it sounded as interesting as an ant crossing the asphalt.

riki was there, but his mind was elsewhere.

he was back in the arena, replaying moments from the fight and searching for some way he could have avoided the penalty. he was in the locker room, under his team’s eyes once again forced to endure his loss of control. and finally, he was at the apartment. more specifically, on the expression you made. that tired look, the low voice trying to be his safe harbor even when he acted like an animal. the way you held the first aid kit, ready to care for a cut he couldn’t even feel, but that you seemed determined to heal with all the patience in the world.

he felt a familiar tightness in his chest. the boy hated not being in control. hated the contract that bound him, hated having started at the top without being ready for the fall, and hated, above all, that the only person he truly wanted to scream at, cry with, or simply exist beside in silence was the same person who had to be his professional "babysitter".

it was maddening. how could they expect him to keep his hands off you when you were the one who picked up his pieces every single time? it infuriated him that that damn phone was always between you, reminding him that you were paid to be there. he wanted you there because you wanted to be, not because some old man could fire you if you weren’t.

"hey, are you even listening to me?"

the girl’s hand touching his arm felt like an unwanted electric shock. he blinked, dragged back into the suffocating reality of the bar. he looked at her fingers against his skin and felt an immediate recoil; it wasn’t the touch he wanted. it didn’t carry the soft perfume you wore, nor was it firm and subtle like yours.

he forced an awkward smile, the kind he used for cameras when he wanted to be left alone.

"i need to go" he muttered, his voice rough from disuse.

the girl parted her lips, confused about what reason he could possibly have. he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, an automatic gesture from someone whose body was already turned toward the exit. he stepped away from the table, ignoring the protest forming at the tip of her tongue, and pushed through the crowd.

***

the ride back was a thin line between unease and regret. as soon as riki stepped out of the bar, the icy dawn breeze hit his face like a bucket of cold water, but what truly chilled him was the phone screen: zero notifications.

usually, when he stayed out past two in the morning, there was always a message from you. a sarcastic "did you get lost on the way?" or a picture of the tv paused on a movie you both liked, a silent invitation for him to return. the absence made the knot already tight in his throat feel like it had turned into a sailor’s knot.

as if conditioned by that emptiness, he climbed onto his bike and started the engine. the machine’s growl echoed through the street, and as he accelerated, the streetlights blurred into dotted streaks along the horizon. the building’s automatic gate seemed to take forever to rise, every inch of metal dragging upward while the boy’s leg bounced anxiously against the pedal.

he entered the apartment abruptly, the beep of the digital lock cutting through the air. the living room lights were low, casting long, cozy shadows. spotify was still connected, playing a soft instrumental that filled the silence, and on the table, a few beer cans showed that you had tried, in your own way, to cope with the night’s frustration.

nishimura stopped. a small smile appeared when he saw you there, curled up among the couch cushions. you were dozing, one hand beside your head, the other resting on your stomach, now exposed where your shirt had ridden up slightly in your sleep. so serene and unguarded, so different from the composed posture you always carried, the one he knew was exhausting.

he approached slowly, kneeling on the rug to be at your level. the scent of your perfume mixed with the familiar air completely disarmed him. with rough, calloused fingers, he reached out and brushed your cheek in an almost imperceptible caress.

"i’m sorry" he whispered. his deep voice came out unsteady, heavy with everything he hadn’t managed to say before.

the warmth of his touch and the sound of his voice stirred you awake. your eyes opened slowly, focusing on the japanese boy watching you with an intensity you rarely saw.

"i thought i’d have to put your face on a ‘missing’ poster" you murmured, your voice thick with sleep, a gentle tease to break the tension.

that drew a genuine smile from him, the first of the night to reach his eyes, but the movement pulled at the skin of his brow. he hissed softly through his teeth, bringing his fingers to the cut he had ignored the entire time. the sting finally caught up with him.

you sat up. gently, you held his face, guiding riki’s head down until it rested in your lap. he didn’t resist; on the contrary, he let his full weight sink, eyes closing as he felt your small, soft hands steadying him. "let’s take care of this, hm?" you said quietly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

there it was, the tenderness riki had never learned how to receive, yet desperately craved. the softness of your skin against his, the comfort of someone who shared none of his blood. closer, and impossibly out of reach. he simply nodded, his chest falling with a long, deeply held sigh.

***

the taller one sat on the closed toilet lid while you remained standing between his legs. the kit with bandages, alcohol, cotton, and healing ointment lay open on the bathroom sink. with one hand, you held his chin, keeping it lifted. dark, sharp eyes watched you the entire time, warm, steady breaths brushing against the back of your hand or your wrist whenever you pressed the alcohol-soaked cotton to the wound that was beginning to form a thin scab.

"you’re probably the most stubborn person i know, you know that?" you teased, but he simply nodded, his focus completely fixed on you. "good… because if that cut gets infected, you’ll have to take out your piercing…"

riki would listen to you talk for hours, even if it was just to complain about him and his reckless actions. he watched your lips, your eyes, your lashes fluttering softly, your neck, your collarbones, your smooth skin that mocked him and the desires hidden behind every swallow of his throat. he wasn’t much of a talker on his own, but when he was with you, it felt like a sport, and he would watch every season where you were the main objective.

"noona…" he called.

"shh… this is going to sting a little, i’m going to spray the antiseptic…"

"yn…" he insisted, lifting his hands to your wrists, holding them so you would look back at him.

"yes, i’m listening…" you looked down and found a different expression on his face. it wasn’t anger, nor that neutral mask he wore when he didn’t want to be bothered, nor even the guilty look of a scolded puppy. he looked feverish, eyes shining with something uncertain that made your heart skip a beat. you were about to ask if he was feeling alright, but your words vanished when riki buried his face against your chest.

"niki…"

"no… not like that…" he muttered, shifting slightly.

"riki…" you ran your fingers through his soft hair in a half-caress, noticing as he lifted his face just enough to stare up at you. "what are you-"

"don’t ask questions you already know the answer to" his large hands slid higher, fingers intertwining with yours.

"we’ve already talked about this…"

"have we?" he challenged, and you pressed your lips together.

"it’s in the contract"

"i don’t care…" he said, leaning into you again, inhaling deeply, absorbing your scent before turning his face, rubbing softly as if seeking comfort. "i need you"

"i’m here…"

"you don’t understand…" his voice vibrated against you, the familiar growl surfacing as his nerves tightened. "i’m at my limit"

he pulled back once more, looking at you.

"i understand how things work now. i understand the road is long, that i’m still a rookie, that i’m not as good as the journals say…" his grip tightened around your fingers, not to hurt. "but this contract… i can’t do it anymore. honestly, i don’t give a damn about it. and i’m so tired of denying… denying that i need you. not as a caretaker who organizes my schedule, but as a woman… my woman"

your cheeks burned, the air suddenly too thin in your lungs. but he didn’t stop. his gaze dropped, intense, almost obsessive.

"you think i don’t notice? the way you bite the end of that pen while frowning at my planner? the way you straighten your posture and hold your elbows when you’re nervous?" he shook his head, as if the confession itself exhausted him. "i tried… i tried going out with other girls, tried feeling anything that wasn’t the same indifference i feel with paparazzi… but it doesn’t work. none of them are you". he let out a soft breath of a laugh. "i know i’m terrible with feelings, i can’t even explain them properly, but this…" he guided your joined hands to his chest, where his heart pounded like a caged beast. "this is clear to me"

the heat radiating from him felt overwhelming. your fingers burned, the bathroom air thickened, your vision blurred. you tried to pull away, clumsy, attempting to free yourself.

but riki’s reflexes were too quick.

before you could reach the doorknob, he rose, strong arms circling your waist from behind, pulling you flush against his broad, heated chest. the contact was immediate, his jeans against your hips, his lips near your ear.

"running away? pretending your heart isn’t racing just like mine?" he pressed a slow, damp kiss beneath your ear, making you shiver. "tell me… do you really feel nothing? you really don’t want me at all?"

to seal the fate of that night, riki turned you gently yet firmly toward the large bathroom mirror. the reflection revealed the stark contrast. You, flushed, breathless, held against his solid frame. his hands slid upward, palms exploring the lines of your body, one circling your neck, the other lifting your chin.

"look at us…" he commanded, his face close to yours. "tell me i’m the only one who’s lost control… tell me you don’t want me too…"

***

the confined space made everything feel claustrophobic. your mind swirled with emotions, yet none of them involved denying that you wanted him too. how many times had you caught yourself watching his sharp profile, his jawline, his perfect lips, his sweat-slicked torso, muscles tightening at the gym or during training. it was impossible not to notice. and like a switch flipping, you turned toward him, hands framing his face as you pulled him down into a kiss.

the boy was surprised for exactly one second before responding with enthusiasm. the kiss was a collision. the way your mouths clung together, lips crushing, your slender fingers sliding up to the back of his neck. riki sniffed softly, almost in relief, bending further over you, craving more contact. one of his hands braced against the mirror, the other slid down to your thigh, gripping firmly as he pulled you closer.

he lifted you, setting you onto the cold marble counter, drawing a heavy gasp from you. the walls seemed to close in around you both, the tension far too thick to stay contained there. riki held you with ridiculous ease, stumbling through the doorway with you toward the living room, never breaking the kiss for even a second.

he dropped you onto the couch possessively and, in one fluid, impatient motion, crossed his arms to pull his shirt off, tossing it somewhere without care.

you parted your lips, breath uneven, eyes roaming over his sculpted torso, the tattoo trailing along his ribs. your senses blurred, and you couldn’t help it, the tip of your tongue slipped out, wetting your lower lip as you devoured him with your gaze.

riki smirked before kneeling again, hands gripping your hips as he pulled you to the edge of the couch. he didn’t need to ask for help; your fingers were already at your jeans, undoing them so he could slide the fabric down and off you.

"damn…" his eyes swept over your thighs, quick, hungry, hands roaming shamelessly. he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, turning his head to bite and suck, leaving a reddening mark.

"you are going to eat me out?" your voice came out slow, breathless.

"eat you out?" he looked up at you, tongue tracing a heated path along your inner thigh. "i’m going to devour you…"

your body arched in impulse... the shame was there, yes, but it was what turned you on the most. the shame, the fact that this would fuck up any professional relationship you had. but, when his hot tongue touched your covered pussy a spark ran through your body, making a whimper escape you and your worries evaporate. nishimura shook his head, laughing softly and repeating the act, only soaking the already messy fabric further; bordering on transparency.

thick fingers hooked into the waistband of your undies and he didn't take it off, he just pulled until the fabric tore, revealing your sex flushed and glistening with lubrication.

riki lowered his mouth, opening wide enough to take you all in. his tongue spread out, licking deep from bottom to top. his eyes closed so he could concentrate, his nose also burying itself, brushing against your clit every time his head went back and forth to lick you. he didn't need to breathe that much.

you watched as he dived in there, his puffy lips sucking your folds, before he took his thumb to your bundle of nerves to finger you there, horizontal and circular motions, alternating. you threw your head back when he penetrated you with the damp muscle, taking it in and out making your hips lift in small jolts from the force he put into it.

"hnng i-... riki!", you tried to warn the younger one.

"mhmm?", his voice muffled as he squeezed your pussy between his index finger and thumb, like a sandwich, and turned his face to engulf all the sensitive flesh munching. he didn't make it easy, furrowing his brow when your thighs tried to close and holding you spread open for him.

the blonde enclosed your clit again, sucking greedily, fingering your entrance which pulsed non-stop now, indicating you were on the edge. he held the nub between his lips and used his tongue to lick fast, looking up at you again just so he wouldn't miss the exact moment your eyes rolled back.

your fingers tangled in his hair pulling him down as you came, grinding against his mouth through the whole orgasm. he let out a needy groan feeling your fluids wet his chin and yet he didn't stop, continuing to lick with will even as your legs shook, completely inebriated.

"give me one more, please, please...", he asked coaxingly, not giving you time to think of protests before pressing his mouth to your pussy again, this time taking a finger to the entrance and shoving it to the base... he curved it inside and heard you practically meow, loving how you sounded for him. "can do it for me?". it didn't take long for him to find the spongy part that made you see stars when he pressed it. he added another digit leaving you full just with them, making a curved back-and-forth motion that hit all the spots you needed most.

at this point your restless hands squeezed your own breasts over your shirt and bra. lower lip was swollen and reddened from so much biting. the tickle in your lower belly indicating you could handle even less.

the boy licked slowly this time, savoring every groan, every time your hips lifted without your permission, every time your sweet spot pulsed for him. he was completely ecstatic with your taste, with your texture.

"fu.. i can't-!!"

you came once more, squirting a little, making him watch mesmerized, as if he had discovered oil right there in the living room. you whimpered while your abdomen contracted and you closed your legs. riki denied it and grabbed your knees this time, using all the size and strength difference between you in his favor.

he blew against your sex and the cold wind hitting the hot, damp flesh made you suffer a groan before pulling a pillow to hide your face behind.

"ah- hontouni kawaii", he spoke softly, so absorbed in the scene that the phrase came out in his native language, rising and kneeling on the sofa, before taking the pillow from you and holding your wrists together with one hand, lifting them above your head while capturing your mouth again, kissing you and letting you taste yourself.

his mouth then went down to your neck, nipping at your soft neck skin, giving little bites. "you're so delicious", he whispered, making you shiver. he held your face, sliding his thumb across your mouth, feeling your trembling and wet lips.

the younger one's gaze was so piercing, he moved his hand to squeeze your chest pointing through the fabric, testing the weight and softness before finally letting go of your wrists. with agile movements, he helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes.

when you were already naked, he also took off his pants, staying only in gray boxers that left almost nothing to the imagination. you saw his perfect outline, big and thick, leaving the fabric darker where he leaked pre-cum.

"come here" riki sat on the sofa and pulled you onto his lap. the size difference was glaring. his hands circled your waist and almost met at your back without effort, making you feel tiny and completely at his mercy to handle.

"are you holding back?" you questioned, feeling his skin comfort yours as you leaned over his strong body.

"maybe... a little" he admitted with a smirk, that dangerous glint still in his eyes.

"why?" curiosity bordering on innocence.

he looked away for a second trying to keep his composure, fingers tracing your narrow shoulders with a delicacy that contrasted with the bruises he usually caused in the ring. you were so soft, so small, so perfect...

"because i don't want to hurt you..." he replied, his voice heavy with that low vibration that made you melt.

"but i want that" you cut off his thought.

riki stopped his hand movement, lifting an eyebrow slightly, his index finger tracing a downward path until reaching your perky nipple, circling the areola around it. "you do, huh? what exactly do you want?" he brought his face close, leaving your noses brushing, his breath mixing with yours.

"i want you to use me... to relieve all the tension you've been feeling...", you whispered back, grinding lightly against the stiff member positioned right toward your mons pubis, maintaining eye contact. and you meant it.

"you're asking me to fuck you hard then?", he put it in more direct words, almost disbelieving what he had heard from you. squeezing the nipple he was playing with, pinching and pulling, eliciting a groaned 'yes' from you. "you're going to let me fuck you right, noona?", he continued, close, involved, just feeling your lips crawling over each other as you nodded positively.

the energy of the environment changed gradually, as if the air were charging with a silent electricity. riki's pupil dilated and narrowed, adjusting focus as he interlaced his fingers in the hair at your nape before pulling hard. "get on all fours then".

***

riki kept you arched on the sofa, hips raised perfectly for him while your hands pulled your butt cheeks apart as he had asked. he brushed your entrance with the tip, teasing. the sound was obscene, the wet slap of skin on skin every time he hit the length of that thick dick against your slit, already dripping with desire, was a trigger for your brain to tingle.

"how naughty, getting so soaked for your own dongsaenggie..."

before you could process the outrage, he delivered a stinging slap to your butt, the sound echoing in the room. and he took advantage of the exact moment you let out a whimper of surprise and pain to thrust in all at once, sinking to the base.

his teeth clenched, letting out a low curse about how tight you were. the boy blew air out forcefully through his mouth and groaned low before moving, holding your hips firmly to fuck your pussy with precision.

he dragged one hand to your head, forcing your face against the sofa upholstery. the pressure made your cheeks squeeze and your mouth form a beautiful pout, while he started to ram faster and faster. your body rocked violently with every thrust and your moans only grew in volume, filling the apartment.

he sank his fingertips into your hips, leaving marks, before pulling you flush against him. he used his own thighs as support for you and slid his flat hand to your lower belly, feeling the bulge he caused himself as he stretched you out from the inside.

"can you feel me here?" he nibbled on your ear, his voice breaking with pleasure. "so deep in this tight cunny..." he pressed harder against your belly, feeling you writhe before him, completely surrendered, babbling things and trying to hold onto his forearms.

the sofa creaked under the weight of both of you and that rhythmic, wet squelch mixed into the sensual melody you created together. riki seemed in a trance, eyes focused only on your body's reaction to his every move. and as soon as he felt the inner walls of your canal spasm, squeezing him with an almost desperate force, that "strangulation" that indicated you were at your limit, in a moment, he pulled out.

the sudden emptiness made your body give way, falling against the cushions, trembling arms barely able to support you. the japanese boy remained kneeling behind you for a few seconds, catching his breath. he tilted his head to the side, hair sticking to his forehead from sweat, watching with a dark fascination the way your intimacy pulsed, contracting in search of the fulfillment he had just taken away.

he slid his perfectly trimmed nails along the inside of your thighs, a caress that sent shivers to your soul, before delivering a sharp slap right on your sex.

"oh she’s begging..." he whispered, his voice thick with a cruel satisfaction.

as he pulled his hand away, a string of lubrication connected his fingers to your entrance, glistening under the low light of the room. you let out a muffled whimper, face hidden, but he gave you no rest. riki pulled you by the waist, handling your body as if you were a doll.

now, your back was pressed against the fighter's broad, warm chest. he distributed wet kisses along your sweaty nape, savoring the salt of your skin as if it were addictive. with firm hands under your knees, he guided you, aligning your bodies again. guiding you to help him with it too.

you felt his tip press against the entrance and, as he lowered you, you were slowly impaled, feeling every inch being reclaimed again. your back arched, head hanging back on his shoulder while the moans became constant, almost a song. "shit- taking me so good" riki gasped, erratic breath hitting your neck.

the blonde started making you bounce, up and down; every squeeze, every sound, every thrust loaded with lust. with every harder descent, his cock hitted your cervix, producing a muffled, wet little noise that seemed to shut down the boy's last neurons.

he tightened his grip under your legs and began to lift his own hips to meet you halfway, accelerating the pace frantically.

"..kuso!" he cursed in a thin voice, failing as he felt he was about to lose total control at the way you squeezed him inside. "you're driving me crazy! fuuuck… i'm gonna cum-"

his hawk-like eyes went down to where the bodies met just so he could see your pussy lips fully stretched around his girth, making him bite the tip of his tongue before wrinkling his nose. he used one arm to hold both of your legs, taking his newly free hand to finger your clit which was exposed by the bulging.

in a few seconds you were squirting once more, much more than the first time that night, squeezing him as if you wanted to break him, but all it did was make him cum, releasing loads and loads of cum inside you while he held you against his lap, groaning low and husky.

***

your bodies relaxed together, with you feeling every muscle of his abs against your back contracting with a breath that was slowly steadying... the warm cum escaping only after he went soft inside you, dripping and forming a puddle between your legs. the smell in the room was strong, a thin, nearly imperceptible layer of steam thanks to the closed windows was created.

lifted a hand that was resting on your thigh to bring it to his face, giving him a slow caress which nishimura accepted, leaning his heavy head into it, still daze in his own state.

“i’m going to tear that piece of shit contract up” he finally said, as if telling a secret, without moving a single muscle to pull out of you or move away.

“I’d make you glue it back together, piece by piece...” you replied with a tired smile.

“you know no championship belt guarantees me this...” he murmured, burying his face in the curve of your neck.

you thought about the words spoken, laughing to yourself with the only response that came to mind at the moment. “then this will be your consolation prize every time”, whispered, and felt his smirk widen against your skin.

*

at first, jungwon was just another friendly face among many. you’d seen him in one of those post-exam chatting circles where absolutely no one had done well; your friends either discussing if they would fake amnesia about the grades or try to boost it by taking extra papers.

he was always smiling or giggling with those god damn dimples on display. sometimes he’d laugh while leaning on the shoulder of whoever was closest, and would never fail eye contact when someone spoke to him... still, you never expected your paths to cross so often. after all, the campus was huge, and your majors didn't overlap.

yet somehow, he was almost always there. at the open mic night, at the book fair organized by the literature students, at the theater showcases by the performing arts department... maybe it wasn’t even just his presence anymore, but the way your eyes naturally searched for him in every crowd. it was hard to pinpoint the exact moment when he stopped being just a handsome guy and became the guy you liked.

when your friends talked about romance and relationships, you listened more than you spoke, quietly wishing you could be as honest about your feelings as they were about theirs. and maybe… just maybe… you’d get a little help or advice that could somehow change your hopeless situation.

within the days passing by you found yourself more and more making ridiculous efforts not to wear your heart on your sleeve. from muffled screams into your pillow to running to the bathroom just to splash cold water on your face whenever it became impossible to focus on whatever the professor was explaining, especially if jungwon had greeted you with a brief wink; something he handed out like it meant nothing.

you even started choosing the most winding paths across the buildings, avoiding the central courtyard where you’d seen him hundreds of times before, sometimes on his phone, sometimes hurriedly reading some article.

it was becoming obvious. the more jungwon blended into your social bubble, the more you pulled away, like a mouse in a maze, finding exits, forcing gaps.

"i need to visit my parents this weekend” whenever they talked about renting an airbnb and spending a few days away.

“i'm completely broke” when they mentioned a cover band show in another city, where the whole group would go in a single car and who knows where they'd dump you.

all of it in the name of your sanity.

and you thought you were managing, till an ordinary friday, when your best friend caught you off guard in the café line, slipping an arm around you before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “party tonight. seven p.m. i'm picking you up at your dorm so we can go together”.

the invitation itself wasn’t unpleasant, but… “yeah? who’s going to be there?” you asked, casually, like someone checking the weather forecast.

“hmm… pretty much everyone from our major, and probably the usual flyers too, why?” she said, and you nodded.

“guess i will have to pass… i've got a lot to do and-” the excuse coming out automatically.

“huh? absolutely not. seriously, y/n, you’ve been bailing on every single plan lately. i’m not taking no for an answer today”. her tone was firmer besides her pouty lips. and after a few seconds of hesitation, you decided not to fight it.

***

it was just a kickback with people you saw all week long, only now with a little less clothing and more alcohol in the air. the place wasn’t new either: one of the senior guys’ studio apartment, where the city view was the real highlight… along with the fact that the building manager didn’t give a damn about the noise rule.

you greeted everyone with a small wave and smile before sticking with your bound. grabbed a drink, and sat on the arm of the couch, trying to blend into the background so you could do what you liked best: observe.

everything was normal. your friends talking loudly, and laughing contagiously. the reckless classmates making some unhealthy kind of bet involving a bottle of vodka, others debating over the music and playlists… but no sign of him.

what were you even expecting?

no one had said jungwon would be there. not that it was his responsibility, or that the two of you had anything to resolve. if he didn’t come, that was fine too… you definitely weren’t expecting anything, haha… probably better that way! you wouldn’t have to monitor yourself so closely, or feel like your heart was galloping while going absolutely nowhere.

you let out an audible sigh you hadn’t even realized you were holding, which caught the attention of the friend beside you. “what is it, pretty? bored?”

“i'd say that grumpy face has a first and last name...” added the boldest in the trio. you were quick to roll your eyes as she stuck out her tongue playfully.

“it’s nothing… just tired” you said lightly, changing the subject. “is there anything to eat?”

“i think so. they said there were some snacks in the kitchen.”

and so you went. standing up, adjusting the skirt you were wearing and rubbing at the tension on your neck. you walked into the next room, separated by an archway and a counter. When you found the containers with the appetizers, you brought one to your mouth, focusing on anything but the selfish feeling swelling in your chest.

you offered a closed-lip smile to a classmate that showed up just to grab a handful of crackers, and you stayed there, leaning against the counter.

could it get any more miserable?

just as you were getting ready to head back to your spot, sucking the seasoning off your fingers, the intercom buzzed. only once, not even long enough for anyone to turn and answer, but then… “oh thanks god, y/n. could you go downstairs and let jungwon in? he texted saying the front desk is empty".

the request felt like a snap right in your face, making your lips part. your body almost tipping forward as someone tossed the set of keys in your direction.

you didn’t said nothing. maybe because you were afraid you’d stutter if you tried to refuse. so instead, you just set your drink down and left the apartment, heading straight for the elevator.

what did you even like so much about yang jungwon when you barely spent any time together? how had your heart decided all of that on its own?

was it the way he spoke? all calm and confident making anyone listening feel safe? was it the way his hands were always so careful even with things that didn’t belong to him? or maybe your heart was just superficial, clinging to crescent-shaped eyes and stupid dimples. what if it was something more hormonal, more embarrassing like the way compression shirts clung to his broad shoulders, and how often he touched his perfect hair when he got distracted…? yeah... a complete mystery.

as you walked toward the building gate, whispering lines under your breath, rehearsing what you’d say after he said hi, he was there, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the street until the sound of your footsteps and the soft jingle of keys got his attention.

jungwon turned around and hit you with a slow smile and a casual hand through his hair before saying, “thought you were gonna leave me out here,” with a harmless little hint of drama.

and suddenly, it clicked. it wasn’t one thing. it was everything. all of it, at once.

you smiled before you could stop yourself, swallowing hard. “blame the ancient elevator,” you murmured, a shy curve to your lips while your fingers, unsteady, searched for the right key against the lock.

noticing your struggle, the yang waited a second before sliding his arm through the gaps in the gate, opening his hand. “let me help”, genuinely so considerate you wanted to dig a hole and jump on it.

“sorry…” you blurted out, embarrassment and frustration spilling over while he opened it and stepped inside, only turning back to pull it shut with a small thud. “it’s okay. that kind of thing happens all the time.”

you walked back toward the elevator together, jungwon holding the door open and gesturing for you to go first.

“so... they managed to get you out of the house, huh?” his question echoed inside the metal box as it practically crawled upward because of the old cables.

“what do you mean?” you looked up at him, not understanding at first.

“well i used to see you everywhere. campus, theater, café… and then suddenly, you vanished. i even started to think you were avoiding me,” he added with a light laugh, even though his tone didn’t quite hide the truth behind it.

you? avoiding him? i mean… yes. that was exactly it. but hearing it out loud from the very reason why made it sound even more pathetic.

you shook your head quickly, eyes dropping to your feet. “i got stuck with a research project, so i kinda disappeared for a while…” you lied shamelessly, following him toward the apartment door.

“really? which professor?” his voice was swallowed by the now loud music from inside as you guys entered.

“jungwon!!!” his friends called out excitedly in chorus.

and you were saved! not by angels, nor by heroes, but by drunk college dudes.

it felt like the air could move through your lungs again. you grabbed your drink once more and headed straight for the balcony, decorated with string lights and fake plants. the fact that jungwon remembered you at all was overwhelming… but at the same time, wasn’t he like that with everyone else?

the faint sound of music and laughter was comfortable from outside, same way vulnerable feelings like love, anxiety, uncertainty, were beautiful when portrayed in movies and books.

how long would you keep living life through other people, through other stories? how long would suffering over the uncertainty be more convenient than suffering because you actually tried? see… you didn’t consider yourself shy, a little introverted yes, but deeply dishonest with yourself.

after a few minutes out there, quiet, letting your thoughts boil your brain, the sliding balcony door opened behind you and they called you back to play a game.

most people were already sitting down, though not in any organized circle. your friends waved you over to sit with them again and jungwon looked at you. he was sitting on the floor, a beer bottle between his legs, leaning back on his hands.

“alright, everybody ready?” the apartment owner appeared holding two strips of fabric.

“i still think this game is sooo high school. what are we, fifteen?” a girl - a plus-one of a plus-one - complained. “it’s just for fun. unless you’ve got something to hide”.

“so… what are we actually playing?” you leaned in toward one of the girls, whispering into her ear.

“seven minutes in heaven or something like that” she answered, amused, her excitement bordering on preteen-level.

your own expression on the other hand was priceless. trying to understand how and why these people only ever dragged you into disasters whenever they were drunk.

“here’s how it’s gonna work…” the campus senior explained. “i put everyone’s name into an online randomizer and i'll draw two names at a time. but you have to keep your eyes closed until i finish putting the blindfolds on the chosen ones, ok? if anyone doesn’t want to play, speak now or forever hold your peace” he added, making everyone glance around at each other. no one backed out.

***

the first time you closed your eyes, you were terrified you’d be chosen, already imagining the awkward atmosphere with whoever it might be. your stomach twisted, your fingers crossing on instinct… you really didn’t want to go through the embarrassment of being alone with someone you barely knew.

the second time, you thought that if it were a friend or someone from your course, you could just talk, maybe even prank the rest of the group. it couldn’t be that bad… and if it was, it would only stay between you and that person. you felt less tense, even though your thumbs kept fidgeting against each other in your lap.

it was by the third time that realization hit. when jungwon muttered, “i gotta pee. if you can’t wait, just pick someone else" which earned a few quiet giggles from around the room.

as you opened your eyes, three people were missing. you knew you had no right to feel anxious about it, and yet… your traitorous heart wasn’t helping.

and, to be fair, the sounds coming from the closet in the hallway - where the pairs were being sent - were the worst. wet, suggestive sounds, the unmistakable sound of clothes brushing... you could never tell if it was real or just part of the act; everyone there loved a good show.

you only managed to relax when he appeared again, coming back from the bathroom, drying his hands on his jeans before sitting down on the floor once more.

“i'll draw someone to go with you” the host said and jungwon agreed quietly.

once again, you closed your eyes. tense, anxious, desperate to know who would end up with him. if it were a close friend, it’d be funny. if it were one of your friends… unlikely that anything would happen. but if it were anyone else what was your guarantee? or rather… why the hell did you think you deserved one? poor thing, just didn’t wanted to end the night crying like a baby later.

seconds felt like centuries. you even started to feel dizzy.

“i'm putting the blindfold on now, okay?” that whisper made the entire world drop into slow motion.

shit. this was really happening.

shit, shit, shit.

the satin slid over your eyes, and you felt every loop of the knot tightening behind your head. you were helped to your feet. groping cautiously at the air in front of you, guided toward the built-in closet along the wall. hands at your sides helped you over the small step between the floors, and the darkness you already saw turned into complete black.

it would’ve been silent too, if you couldn’t hear your own heartbeat.

after the dry click of the lock, the blindfolds could come off. you hesitated, fingers trembling, like you couldn’t quite trust reality. when the fabric finally slipped down around your neck, you saw jungwon standing right in front of you, his hand still lifted near your face.

"i was about to take it off for you,” he said softly.

inside that tiny space, you were closer than ever. smelling his cologne mixed with the mint of the gum he was chewing. for long seconds, you just looked at each other, your vision slowly adjusting to the dim light.

jungwon had always thought you were beautiful. since the very first day you were formally introduced. your eyes, mouth, the way you tried so hard not to bring attention to yourself and yet you were all he could ever notice when you were in the same place. he swore he had tried to get closer naturally, but you were skittish.

he assumed maybe you had a boyfriend already, and were focused on your studies. then he started wondering if he made you uncomfortable, that your personalities didn’t match. but the signs? it was undeniable that you wanted him. he just needed to know if you wanted him close or far away.

“so… what we were talking about earlier?” he resumed, glancing away for a split second as if searching for the thread of the memory. “about you starting a research project, right?” he confirmed, looking back at you, then dragging his tongue slowly across his bottom teeth. “it’s a good excuse, i won’t lie... do i believe it? not really.”

you swallowed hard. too stunned, too immersed in everything you were feeling. your brows drew together, lips parting in search of words. “but i- i didn’t-”

“you think you’re the only one who observes people?” he cut in calmly. “you think i don’t notice how your gaze always slips away? or how you pretend i'm not there? or even how, at the theater shows, you never refused to sit next to me but your fingers were always restless like right now?” the boy paused, glancing down at your hands where you were nervously fiddling with the bow on your blouse. you froze instantly, suddenly hyperaware, cheeks burning as he read you like an open book.

then jungwon took a step forward, and you took two steps back, bumping into one of the shelves and making it rattle loudly. he smirked.

“see? it doesn’t take much for you to show you’re trying to run” he said, biting his lip thoughtfully as he studied your expression. “but i want to know where this comes from. do you hate me? do you think i'm not worth of your time...?”

he leaned in closer, bracing himself against the cabinet behind you, one hand on either side of your body, effectively trapping you. your legs felt weak, your throat tight.

“tell me,” he asked. “if it’s any of those things, i promise i won’t bother you anymore…”

you shook your head faintly, the tension unbearable, turning your face away as you felt his breath near your jaw.

“then try to explain it to me,” the yang insisted. “you’ve been torturing me with this for months. why won’t you use your words, little mouse?”

“guys you have only one minute left!” someone called from outside. jungwon ignored it, still waiting.

"i just...”

“mhm? go on,” he encouraged, one brow lifting.

“please… jungwon…” you begged, shaking a little as you brought your hands up to hide your face.

“yes?” he whispered, gently catching your wrists and lowering them again, wanting to see your dazed expression; lost, shining eyes.

“hey, your time is do-” the folding door slid open, and just as quickly, jungwon pushed it shut again. “yeah, give us five more minutes”.

why was it so hard? your body was betraying you in every way. your mouth too dry, your chest burning, shame too heavy to speak. having a confession pulled out of you like this, stripping away all the careful armor you’d built, felt rough as fuck.

“i don’t know…”

“yes, you do…”

“we should go…”

and, in one final move, he leaned in just enough to whisper near your ear: “if i leave this closet without a clear answer, i'll assume you hate me. understand...? do you hate me, y/n?”

“never…” your voice wavered.

“then convince me”.

jungwon didn’t say anything else. he pulled back, eyes dragging over you from head to toe, as if trying to read something that refused to reveal itself. truth was, he wasn’t used to this. it usually came easily to him. the chemistry, the reactions, the way people folded into his orbit without much effort. it worked with everyone… except you.

what else did he have to do to win you over? what more did he need to trigger that perfect, instinctive response from you, something beyond this exhausting game of cat and mouse that had stretched on for far too long?

regardless all you gave him was silence.

“i get it” he clicked his tongue in frustration.

“wait…” your voice slipped out before you could catch it, and you looked at him with naked apprehension.

he had been about to open the doors again, but froze when he felt your hand gripping the hem of his shirt. those feline eyes snapped to you immediately like someone who, deep down, had been hoping.

“if i have to say it, then i’ll say it” gathering the last of courage you had. your lips moved on their own, tongue stumbling behind your teeth, as if your body were ready to speak before your mind was. “i like you… i really do- i mean… god”.

expression painfully honest. the tightness in your jaw, the gloss of your teary eyes, the way your nostrils flared, everything about you reporting just how far he had pushed you.

and just like this, before you could even process it, you were kissing.

Both his hands cradled your face as your mouths crashed together. his fingers slid down your shoulders, until he could lace them with yours. the kiss turned needy, reckless. a silent request for tongue while you both angled your heads. broken breaths when he ended up pressing you against the wooden panel behind you.

he only let go off your hands to hook his under your thighs, lifting you onto one of the drawers and stepping in between your legs.

“was it really that complicated?” he asked, pulling away just enough, reluctant, still trying to pull you closer by your hips.

“yes,” you admitted, and the sound that left him wasn’t quite a laugh, more like relief disguised as one.

jungwon was still fighting the urge to keep going when the upperclassman knocked again, this time with force. cursing under his breath, gave you one last look, then stepped back, fixing his hair and shirt before heading out.

“if i'd known you guys would need that much time, i would’ve lent you my room” the guy by the door joked.

“shut up,” the brunette said as he brushed past him, back to the living room and dropping into the same spot as before. he grabbed his beer and took a long sip.

you returned to your friends, who only stared at you in surprise, but didn’t push for details.

both of you pretending a normality that simply didn’t exist.

***

the rest of the night was made of stolen glances and restrained laughter, but nothing beyond that. of course, your friends hovered nearby, waiting for one of you to make a move. when it was already past 1 a.m. you decided it was time to go. you called a ride and stood up to take your leave.

your friends whined, begged you to stay, promised they could give you a ride later which you gently declined, like you’d grown used to doing. you waved goodbye to everyone, catching a glimpse of one of jungwon's friends nudging him… but he only kept yapping with his group about whatever they’d been talking about for the past hours.

you left the apartment, checked on your phone again... “20 minutes away”, sighed and decided to wait downstairs anyway.

the digital numbers on the elevator display were so dim, like a toy running on dying batteries. you thought there was a better chance of that thing getting stuck halfway than anything else, scrolling mindlessly through your phone while waited.

metal doors opened with a rusty screech and you got inside, leaning into the corner. but before they could fully close, they stopped again; the sensor signaling something in the way.

“won't you make this any more difficult?”

yang jungwon.

he closed the distance between you, dangerously so, took your phone from your hands and canceled the ride before giving it back, not bothering to explain further. jungwon ran his tongue over his dry lower lip and shook his head, like he was pushing a thought away.

reaching the first floor, the boy took your hand, his touch so firm and warm, guiding you outside, past the gate, straight toward a car parked at the curb.

there wasn’t much conversation. the radio played at a low volume. your arm pulled back every time he changed gears, your knees angled toward the door, and you wanted to believe you were only looking out the window, when you knew perfectly well it was his reflection while he drove that held your attention.

“i can put the address in, if you want…” you offered.

“no need. i know the way” he said simply.

at every red light, it was the same, sometimes resting his front on the steering wheel or lightly tapping his thumbs to the beat coming from the speakers.

as soon as the car stopped in front of your dorm, jungwon pulled the handbrake and turned off the engine. the street was empty.

“stay here” said before getting out and walking around to open the door for you.

he walked with you to the entryway and watched you fumble for the keys again… never failing in amusing him; seeing you silently struggle with your own nerves was a delight. gaze burned over your figure.

"thank you for the ride… and… for everything else” you told awkwardly.

“do you think what happened earlier, in the closet… was only about you?” his voice low, almost dripping like honey.

you didn’t know. how could you?

“should i be clearer? what do you think?” leaned against the nearby pillar next to both of you. “i think i should start begging right now…” he whispered, letting his fingers trace the cold metal before looking at you more intently. “please, y/n, i like you too… but when you say nothing it makes me feel sick” he mimicked. “should i do it like this?”.

it only made your cheeks burn red and your breath hitch. you looked away, hiding half your face in your wrist, jungwon smiled.

“just do whatever you want to” you replied, again trying not to give in so easily.

“everything i want to do with you… i’d never do if you didn’t want it too” tone a bit too serious, eyes dropping from yours to your lips, then tracing down your neck where your pulse throbbed visibly.

the two of you, completely weak and vulnerable to each other. he didn’t want you to leave, and you wanted him to come with you. truly, an eternal game of cat and mouse.

but you were the impatient one this time, taking a few steps back, you entered the small building, leaving the gate open, glancing back just once, inviting him without a single word.

that was all he needed.

***

the stairs up to the dorm had felt endless. just two flights, but jungwon couldn’t wait, pulling you close and pressing you against every surface. the heat of him seeping through every layer of fabric. the kisses were also different now, hungrier, deeper, his hands wandering with eagerness.

his fingers found the strands at the back of your neck, curling them around before giving a gentle pull, making you gasp and shiver against his tongue. you nearly stumbled twice.

inside the room, you two bumped into everything - the small shoe bench by the entrance, the fluffy rug, and finally the foot of the bed -, he pushed you onto the soft mattress, among your plushies, and climbed on top of you. chest pressing against yours, weight grounding you in all the right ways.

lips didn’t miss a thing… your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, the sliver of waist now exposed where your shirt had ridden up, every inch of skin electrified under his touch. the boy's knee slid between your legs, pressing firmly into your core, drawing out little gasps from you as you squirmed under. he held your hips with one hand, tugging you closer, pushing you down, making you ride it.

“just like this...” jungwon hissed into your ear. your movements seeking friction against him, only made his pants tighter, every shift of your body sending shivers through your bodies.

he paused to sit up and pull off his own shirt, a corner of his lips tugging into a smile as he noticed you now looking without hesitation. “enjoying?” he said, pulling you to sit on the bed as well, kneeling on the floor beside the mattress. helping with your top first, then your skirt, inspecting your matching set of undies decorated with little fruits, shaking his head amusedly when you pouted.

“you look too much!” you protested, trying to cover yourself with a fluffy bunny from your collection.

“i know...” jungwon leaned closer, noses brushing, “and i don’t think i'm going to stop anytime soon…”, pressing a slow kiss to your cheek, tossing the stuffed bunny aside, and laying over you again, planting kisses across your entire face.

“have you ever…?”

“does it matter?” you asked, genuinely surprised - and happy - by his concern.

“just answer, princess” nibbling on your earlobe.

and you had to swallow a moan before replying, “only a few times…”

“aww” he purred, returning to your lips, taking them with an unmistakable hunger. one hand slid down your body, cupping your chest over your bra, tracing your abdomen, and slipping into your panties, teasing the inner part of your thigh with the tips of his fingers, feeling your warm skin. as he moved closer to your center, he traced your pussy lips, sliding his index between them, feeling it get slick with your fluids. "you are soaked".

you took two fingers inside with no resistance at all… if you were hard to conquer, he surely knew something who wasn’t. he used his thumb to play with your clit in circular motions at the same time when you started panting.

your hands tangled in his neck, eyes squeezed shut, brow furrowed as you babbled his name already.

with his free hand, he tugged the cups of your bra down and captured one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking harsh and tracing it with the tip of his tongue; eyes up to your face that was contorting with the stimulation. he nibbled the flesh and laughed mischievously every time you tried to look at him back, giving up when you couldn’t hold the gaze. only switched sides once the perked bud was swollen.

your hips grew edgy with time, your pussy wet enough to make sounds echo through the small room. and just as you were about to come, he stopped.

the look on his face didn’t lie, he did it on purpose. so, so mean.

he unbuttoned his jeans pulling them down along with his underwear before kicking the clothes aside. spat into his palm before stroking his hard cock, pressing it against your sex, groaning and huffing as the head brushed against your entrance. lined the tip at your opening and teased one more bit.

you practically mewled when he stretched you deliciously as he dragged out a hoarse “mhmm fuck”.

his hips immediately began to move after adjusting to the tight interior, sliding almost all the way out before thrusting back in. the first few seconds were agonizing, making you sink your fingers into his ribs, scratching him with your nails. but as the thrusts got faster, your digits trembled, and you struggled to hold yourself.

"so difficult f’me… and for what?" voice low and raspy. "if it was going to end like this…"

you wanted to retort, but the moment he noticed, the yang tugged one of the damn plush toys under your hips. dick kissing your cervix as soon as the angle allowed. and he with his tongue hanging out as he applied pressure on your lower belly. "what? cat got your tongue?".

your eyes rolled back, cheeks puffing and releasing with your whines. small hands landed on his chest, and he pulled one of your thighs to wrap around his waist; strands of hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, while his eyes only left yours to watch your pussy swallow him completely.

the knot deep in your womb tightened, making your body shiver involuntarily.

"you close too, baby?" jungwon threw his head back, biting his lower lip hard. "d-don’t pull out…" your plea came out in a sob, and he stared at you for half a second, dumbstruck by your words.

he kissed you again, sloppily, thrusting deep, feeling you squeeze him like crazy.

both came together. hot cum filling you, painting your spongy walls. your body arched, tensed, and relaxed. head spinning, and for a brief moment, stars seemed to sparkle behind closed eyes.

one more roll of his hips finished emptying him, and he could see that white ring forming at the base of his member.

it was only when you caught your breath that you looked at each other again, with no intention of letting go. a sudden mutual embarrassment hits and he chuckles. "what?" you ask, confused but also giggling.

"it’s just... it was hard to reach you" he said, a smile with dimples accompanying the words.

"well, sometimes you have to play the game…" you ventured, trying to sound nonchalant.

"oh yeah?" his eyebrow lifted in that usual gesture. "then let’s do best of three", a sly grin tugging at his lips.

"best of what?"

the atmosphere at dead circuit was a symphony of auditory chaos. the sound of drumsticks being tested against the drumheads echoed like gunshots, the feedback from guitar amplifiers sliced through the air with a sharp, irritating hiss, and the murmur of the crowd outside - a sea of anxious young people, some completely high or drunk - leaked through the wooden walls like an animalistic roar.

but kim sunoo heard none of it.

leaning back against one of the worn black speakers, he was immersed in his own bubble of selective silence. it was a survival skill he had practiced since he was 13, when his parents’ bitter arguments during the divorce became the playlist of his adolescence. if he didn’t want to hear it, the world simply went mute.

his slender, pale fingers plucked at the bass strings with a melancholic slowness, pulling out the notes of 505 by arctic monkeys. sunoo didn’t like punk rock that much. he found the genre’s aggression too loud most of the time, too heavy, too obvious. he preferred melodies that floated, that had space to breathe, to discern what was worth it. but he was there, earning his five hundred bucks a night, because jay, heeseung, and the drummer had convinced him years ago with promises of creative freedom and zero stress.

liars. he knew they were, but he went along with it anyway.

jay and the drummer were a walking war zone, like two primed grenades about to explode together. heeseung was a predator of other people’s hearts with no intention of commitment. sunghoon, the sound technician, was the most handsome and most boring guy he had ever met. and then there was you.

the only piece that wasn’t dirty or explosive. you were his center of gravity. that day, years ago, when you were introduced as the manager, sunoo felt like the air in the stuffy garage had finally become breathable; not even the growing mold behind one of the freezers mattered anymore. there was only one problem.

a problem that, right now, was making his super ability to ignore noise fail miserably.

he stopped plucking the strings, the tips of his fingers lightly touching the neck of the instrument to adjust it against his torso. there, in a dark corner behind the heavy stage curtains, where dust danced under the light of a single purple spotlight, he saw you.

you held your phone against your ear so tightly your knuckles were white. your eyes, always so focused and attentive to every detail of the band, were now clouded, filled with water you refused to let fall. he wished it weren’t like this, but he had seen you cry so many times… “i already told you, i don’t want to see you anymore, why is that so hard?” your voice came out in a strained breath, choked, heavy with an exhaustion he felt in his own chest.

sunoo knew the script by heart. he had watched you go through every one of those assholes. the one who asked you for money to fix his car - and took his ex on a trip -, the one who slapped you in front of the whole band and, because you begged, didn’t turn into an urban legend in their hands, the one with no character who dated at least three girls at once, and the current one. the jealous one. the one who made you feel guilty for giving him a ride or staying late at band rehearsals. the one who tried to prune the only thing you loved - this chaotic, real job - to turn you into a shadow under his control.

it’s ridiculous, the boy thought as he watched your tense silhouette, how you take care of four grown, problematic men with one hand behind your back, but fall apart over a man who isn’t worth the sole of your shoe.

you never did anything for yourself. you always gave in. and seeing you there, curled into the dimness while being whipped by words through a screen, made his blood boil.

he stood up from the speaker. the bass, covered in stickers and collages, bumped lightly against his leg, the metallic sound of the chains on his pants clinking with the quick movement. he wasn’t going to interrupt the call - he wasn’t that kind of guy - but he stepped close enough for his presence to be noticed, watching the situation up close.

sunoo was pissed. not at you, but at the way you let the world steal the shine from your eyes. what he really wanted was to take the phone from your hand and crush it under his heavy boot, but instead, he just stood there, black leather wristbands tight around his wrists, waiting for the moment you would finally hang up so he could, once again, try to convince you that you deserved far more than scraps of attention and empty threats.

“i can’t keep this going, i’m sorry… i- have to go” you stated, your voice coming out shaky and rushed, unsure if it matched what your heart wanted.

as soon as you pulled the device away from your ear, a final “you bitch, if you-” slipped through the speaker, an aggressive sound stain that was abruptly silenced when you pressed the red button on the screen. the silence that followed wasn’t peaceful, but heavy.

when you turned, you startled slightly, your tense body bumping into the heavy curtain as you saw sunoo standing there, like a silent sentinel watching you. you swallowed hard, feeling the knot in your throat, and forced an awkward smile as you quickly wiped your eyes with the backs of your hands, trying to dry the tears that insisted on falling.

“hey…” you sniffled, trying to regain your manager composure, offering a small smile.

“i thought you had blocked his number” sunoo said soberly.

he didn’t need to show his anger toward you, didn’t need to gesture sharply; he was different from everything you knew. he rarely got angry, and never took it out on you, but there was a coldness in his voice that cut deeper than any shout.

“he called me from another number” you lied, your voice still a little shaky.

sunoo pressed his lips together, the metal beads of his snake bites glinting under the dim light. he pretended to buy the lie, raising one eyebrow and nodding slowly, but his eyes - a hazel tone so intense and focused it made you feel immersed - said he knew exactly that you still left the door slightly open for your own tormentor.

“you don’t have to stay on the line until the end… you don’t have to listen to the things he says to you” he continued, his voice softening a little, but still carrying a restrained urgency.

you sighed and took a step toward him, offering that condescending smile the boy hated so much. it was your “you’re cute, but you don’t understand how things work” smile. to him, it felt like you were placing him back on the souvenir shelf, labeling him as the boy from the band, too young to know anything beyond his bass and ripped jeans.

you reached out and touched his dark strands. the gesture was instinctive, feeling the texture of the gel that made some tips more spiked, contrasting with the softness of the rest of his hair. “it suits you…” you commented, trying to change the subject, your eyes scanning his look. “even if those wristbands are a bit much…”

sunoo lowered his gaze to his own wrists, the black leather and spikes seeming heavy under your gentle touch. “i’ll take them off mid-show, they get in the way when i play” he replied simply, his voice almost a whisper.

“i know…”

and with those two words, you got away. once again, you skirted the edge of the abyss. you used your bright eyes and your sweet voice that acted like a sedative on his instincts. you passed by him, the soft scent of your shampoo leaving a trail that contrasted with the moldy smell of the place, and he let out a quiet laugh, a bitter sound that died in his chest as he watched you walk away to organize the chaos you preferred to face: the band’s.

he remained still, lost in the realization that you cared about every technical detail, but didn’t care to save yourself.

reality only hit again when heeseung showed up, tapping his shoulder with a heavy palm.

“five minutes” the vocalist announced, his voice vibrating with pre-show adrenaline. “i’m going to call the lovebirds in the dressing room. and you’re coming with me, i’m not dealing with any unwanted scenes alone” heeseung practically dragged him, making him roll his eyes.

***

sunoo bit down on one of the piercing balls at the corner of his lip and adjusted the bass strap on his neck in a shared nervousness before stepping on stage; his fingers opened and closed, clenching into fists, and he laughed when the drummer nudged his shoulder lightly before the curtains opened. whenever they were about to perform, they looked like the same four high school teenagers about to compete in their first talent show; it was bizarre, because what they did up there was definitely not appropriate for fifteen-year-old boys.

the led lights cut through the darkness, turning the thick oxygen into geometric, disoriented beams that lashed over the crowd and the instruments. jay’s first chord wasn’t just a note: it was a wail, a low, long, distorted sound that seemed to vibrate straight through the old wooden floor beneath their feet. the smoke from the machines rose slowly, wrapping around the boys’ legs and making the scene look like a mirage, something ethereal and disturbed, the kind you have in a bad trip.

there was that second of absolute silence. the four exchanged quick glances, one last silent check-in. heeseung stepped forward - his loose tank top already slipping dangerously off one shoulder, exposing a sweaty clavicle before the effort even began - he smiled. “we are the tamed-dashed…” his voice started contained, a secret shared through the mic, only to explode into a roar that made the walls shake:

“AND WE ARE HERE TO BURN THIS PLACE DOWN!!!”

the chaos was instant. the tap-tap of the drumsticks gave the signal and, on the fourth count, they dove into smells like teen spirit.

sunoo felt the impact in his chest. for him, that was the only moment when noise didn’t truly bother him. on stage, being loud was a virtue; screaming was a right. completely different from his calm, almost untouchable demeanor. his fingers chased each note with surgical precision, the tuned bass vibrating against his pelvis like a pulsing open artery.

he always went numb. feeling, up there, became just another vital function, like his heavy breathing and the pounding of his racing heart. he closed his eyes, bringing his full lips close to the microphone for backing vocals - a rough caress exchanged between his skin and the fibrous surface - harmonizing with the main voice in tones that sent shivers down your spine all the way from the sound booth.

far from sounding impartial, but it was incredible how he transformed. the mannerisms, the parted lips, the fingers sliding along the neck of the instrument as if they could carve through any path they touched, pressing the strings with perfect pressure, the ridiculously long lashes that stood out when he closed his eyes to sing a more melodramatic part… your cheeks burned and you were grateful no one else noticed in the poor lighting.

that song was cruel, it meant a lot to sunoo, who somehow had never hidden from anyone, yet was still rarely truly seen. like a sea that holds so much and can be calm at the shore, but turbulent the deeper you allow yourself to sail. sunoo slowly turned his feet, facing the back of the stage, toward you.

and he knew hundreds of eyes were devouring him, but he was only searching for one pair.

he locked onto you there in the half-light, your hair tied in a messy bun exposing your nape to the suffocating heat, holding a clipboard against your chest as if it could give you any extra stability, or maybe you just wanted to protect yourself, which was just another illusion your brain crafted for you. you bit your lower lip hard, a habit that betrayed that beneath the proper manager facade, your heart beat to the dirty rhythm of his bass; you just didn’t know it yet.

“a denial, a denial…” he hissed, eyes locked with your figure. those honey-colored orbs dancing over your expression to the point it made you swallow hard. you were in denial.

he wanted to provoke you. he wanted you to see there was nothing he couldn’t be, regardless of the age difference or your mistaken beliefs about him. sunoo was dying to have you.

when the band transitioned into dirty diana, heeseung approached him from behind - loose hips, eyes carrying a mischievous expression that said only one thing - his quick, sly hands sliding over sunoo’s torn shirt. the girls in the front row went into a frenzy, screaming and shoving each other to get closer to the stage.

the two smiled in complicity; sunoo tilted his head back, resting it on his friend’s shoulder, a crooked smile playing on his reddened lips as the other slipped his hand under the fabric, lifting the tank top and exposing the kim’s slim abdomen to the hysterical crowd. the boy mimicked a hoarse, dragged-out moan that barely made it through the mic, but it was enough for your fingers to tighten against the clipboard and your stomach to twist. you shouldn’t feel like that about the youngest in the band, not when you were nearing your late twenties and he was just starting; in fact, you never dated younger dudes. sunoo wanted to say you were missing out on some fun.

“i’ll be your night lovin’ thing, the freak you can taunt…” they sang together, faces dangerously close. heeseung left a quick peck on his cheek before they pulled apart laughing, as if nothing had happened.

sunoo looked at you through the smoke and flashing lights once again in a silent challenge, a deliberate promise. he was turned on by the music, by the attention, but mostly by the way you couldn’t look away, even when your body tensed; why did you lie to yourself so much? he didn’t want to hear about stupid guys calling you at night anymore, didn’t want to see you showing up to rehearsals with marks on your arms and wrists saying you burned yourself on some damn kettle. sunoo desperately wanted to fill the space you tried to patch with those sorry excuses for men and show you what it meant to be a real one.

he was so desperate that he would probably confess right there in the damn show if his bandmates didn’t have other plans for the night. after two songs without stopping, they were electric, adrenaline making up for the lack of air in their lungs and the burning stage lights. heeseung played around with the crowd for a bit, something about the purple-haired girl with gothic makeup meeting him after the show - and her friends if they wanted too - while the others drank water and recovered.

the vocalist let out a few melismas repeating the last verse of the previous song and sunoo briefly joined in, earning a glance from him at the front. slender fingers hovered over the neck of the bass before he gently pulled the melody, pushing the invitation into the air for the next song: no feelings.

an a low and clean, vibrating through the amplifier. the note repeated as he steadied his hand. fingers slid along the length, finding the next note: g, strong and dirty. no rush, feeling each sound wave individually passing through his flesh.

his skilled hand stroked the bass up to the fifth fret, letting a d ring out continuously. the notes seemed to shift the frequency between them. the brunette watched jongseong unbutton his shirt one button at a time, loosening the tie hanging from his neck even more, stomping his foot and joining the sound that was soon invaded by the bratty noise of his guitar.

the drummer got the message and came in right after, making one of the cymbals ring out. not a normal ring, but an aggressive one that could only mean she was furious. just like sunoo had said before… two sticks of dynamite about to explode.

and sunoo repeated with more intent, more hunger: a, g, d, a. and within seconds the intensity burst through the bar and the song began.

that had been their first song, one that for many years had made sense to sunoo. he liked who he was. the roughness of the lyrics made them feel enraged, and the performance turned into a chaotic mess of bodies crashing in the mosh pit forming on the floor. on stage, one trying to outshine the other without abandoning what was written. the boy laughed when he saw jay kneeling near the edge of the stage and bit his lower lip watching girls scratch at his now bare chest - and apparently one even slipped her number into his jeans -, rolling his eyes when heeseung paused the lyrics just to let out an “oh shit” at the sight, “we’re about to get fucking wiiild”.

and they did. near the end of the song, the drummer abandoned her post and climbed onto the stool, drawing everyone’s attention as she pulled off her shirt, left only in a lace bra.

sunoo stared at you from there, seeing your parted lips, the look of someone who loved control about to lose it completely. he felt a shiver run down his spine, increasing the intensity with which he struck the strings.

last song. jongseong was furious. with a scratch running from his chest down toward his pelvis and a pink paper sticking out of his pants, he had no right to complain - ah, sunoo believed in equal rights - but the park was even more pissed because now the vocalist was acting like a dog in heat while singing suck my kiss, staring at the fiery drummer.

you whispered something to sunghoon, who only nodded, doubtful he had actually heard. as the song reached its end, the inevitable began to take shape. but it was worse.

the drummer fully abandoned the kit, tossing her sticks into the crowd before walking over to the vocalist and kissing him. a hungry kiss that meant many things, and not necessarily that they liked each other.

holy shit.

jay was about to tear heeseung apart. on the last chord, everything snapped. the park pulled the guitar off his body and threw it to the ground carelessly, stepping toward the taller one and grabbing him by the collar - making the girl nearby stumble back - like two fighting dogs. and sunoo clicked his tongue, carefully removing his bass, slipping the strap over his head and resting it against a speaker before moving toward them, shoving his arm between the two. “you guys really”

the argument was heated. not that it was anything new, since the guitarist had a reputation for yelling and fighting over anything, but no one was helping. “what are you? a fucking dog?!” jongseong growled through clenched teeth, gripping the dyed linen fabric so tightly his knuckles turned white. “since you can’t satisfy your fucking girlfriend” the other shot back with a mocking smile, grabbing his wrists to stop him from doing anything else. a general commotion broke out, from you stepping forward to thank the crowd for coming see the show to sunghoon pulling the curtains shut on his own. sunoo held heeseung by the shoulders and pulled him back while the sound tech wrapped his arms around the guitarist’s torso, separating them. “stop this stupidity for fuck’s sake!” sunoo muttered when the lee was about to throw in another provoking line.

***

when they finally managed to reach the hallway that led to the dressing rooms, literally crammed into the narrow passage, sunoo was still holding onto heeseung, positioning himself in front of him and trying to stop his bandmate from pointing or yelling back at the insults coming from the guitarist. behind him, sunghoon and the drummer blocked the way of a frowning jongseong, his neck flushed red with anger. “hee, fuck off. stop provoking, he’s already mad” the shorter one said, pushing heeseung forward so he’d keep walking.

“c’mon park! you called me a dog before but it’s YOU who can’t decide if you leave or bite the bone!” and just like that, with a detestable little laugh, the vocalist slipped out of sunoo’s grip and headed in the opposite direction of jay and the rest of the crew, weaving through a few staff members and disappearing in seconds, probably going after some skirt, since stirring up all that chaos clearly hadn’t been enough.

they walked into the dressing room with the guitarist, and the first thing to go flying was the red lamp near one of the mirrors, which he punched just as hard. both actions producing a sharp crash of shattering glass. sunghoon watched the situation with his arms crossed, trying to speak over jay’s shouting, while the drummer threw herself onto the small couch in the stuffy room like someone used to it - despite the annoyed look - and she was, in theory. everyone there had witnessed one of his outbursts at some point.

but it was when you rushed into the dressing room, clumsy and asking about the “boys” that sunoo acted. your first instinct was always to try and talk, of course, but jay didn’t work like that. sunoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you mid-step, catching the alarmed look on your face when you turned to him. “yeah, princess, you’re not doing this” he said simply, pulling you along and making you toss that useless clipboard onto the console by the door. “dude?” he heard sunghoon mutter in disbelief as they left the man alone with the chaos. “you can make it, big guy”

you pressed your lips together, glancing back as the sound of things breaking continued. you knew exactly who the band members were, but wasn’t it your responsibility to step in when they clashed? it wasn’t like your job was just booking shows and collecting payments. “wait, sunoo, i have to-”

“no, you don’t.”

“but-” and then sunoo stopped as you resisted his grip, only for your movements to slow as his honey-colored eyes weighed on your figure; your protests faded, your expression softening as your heart skipped a few beats.

sunoo’s hand slid from your wrist to your fingers, making you intertwine them with his as you followed him without question. you didn’t even know where he was taking you, but after about five minutes of walking, you ended up outside, in the parking lot behind the bar.

the cold air of the early morning contrasted with the warmth of your skin, which had just been trapped in a suffocating room dealing with the explosive anger of a 24yo. you bit your lower lip, feeling that your thin dress shirt wasn’t enough to stop the chill from raising goosebumps, or maybe it was the fact that even out there, the kim still hadn’t let go of your hand. you looked down at where he held your fingers so tightly, flushing at the thought, stumbling over your words when sunoo turned to you again.

“what were you thinking, trying to calm him down??” he asked, and you parted your lips slightly. “i just… didn’t want him to break more things or hurt someone - or himself” you answered quietly.

“you know he’s an adult, right? if he breaks something, he’ll use his own pay to fix it. if he has a problem, he’s the one who has to deal with it” the brunette said, watching you look away and rub the back of your neck with your free hand. always avoidant. sunoo studied you a bit longer before stepping closer, lifting your chin so you’d look at him. “i’m being dead serious right now. why is it so difficult? why are you always trying to handle things alone?” he asked, his plump lips slightly wet, catching the glow of the nearby streetlights.

you chose not to answer, just held his gaze for longer than it felt safe. you hated when you couldn’t read him, when you didn’t know what he was really thinking. it was easier with the others, who saw you more like an older sister or a babysitter. the muffled noise of shouting and the next band starting up drifted from inside, and you should’ve gone back to talk to the organizers about booking another date, but the boy in front of you showed no sign of letting you go anytime soon.

you walked toward the parked cars, where he finally let go, watching you sit on one of the low concrete dividers while he pulled out a pack and a lighter from his pocket. he lit it and took a deep drag, looking up as he slowly exhaled, watching the smoke dissolve into the air before turning to you and holding it out in offering. you accepted - even though it was just a leftover habit from your teenage years - brushing his fingers lightly as you took it. you sighed before bringing it to your lips and inhaling. sunoo watched, biting one of the balls of his lip piercing. “what?” you asked quietly.

“nothing… you look good like this…” he shrugged. your hair was crap, your blazer lost somewhere in the earlier chaos, the first two buttons of your shirt undone, the thin fabric revealing the black lace underneath. your eyeliner was smudged from sweat and time, and your lips were bare. “messy?” you laughed softly, taking another drag before handing it back. “real. human…” he shot back with a shrug, and silence settled between you.

it was awkward when he sounded like the most grounded one. it stirred something in your stomach you didn’t want to name.

sunoo took the cigarette but flicked it away, sending the butt flying until it hit the ground and died out, then walked over and sat beside you.

he crossed his arms, staring at the half-paved ground while you tried not to glance at him sideways. “i wanted to talk…” he started, his voice unsteady in a way that wasn’t like him, and you already knew what was coming. “sunoo… i don’t think we should…” you replied quickly, parting your lips as you prepared to stand, but he grabbed your arm again. this time almost pleading. “so that’s it? you’re just going to act like all of this is normal? the responsibilities you take on, the people you get involved with…” he spoke fast, trying to make you listen. and now it wasn’t about the band. and you knew he was right. deep down, it wasn’t that hard to understand but in practice…

“ah… that’s none of your business…” you said, placing your hand over his, still warm despite the cold outside.

“how can this not be?” sunoo narrowed his eyes, frowning as he held onto you.

“what do you know about relationships, sunoo?” you asked with a quiet laugh, a hint of disdain slipping through because for him it was always so easy: going out with boys and girls, no commitment, no attachment. but the words hit harder than you intended.

sunoo looked down, loosening his grip before letting go slowly. “wow… yeah… you might be right. i know nothing. i’m just young and bored and stupid” he said with sarcasm, making you sigh and close your eyes before turning to him, your calming nature not wanting to hurt him. “that’s not what i was sayi-”

he dragged his tongue along his cheek, ignoring your gaze now fixed on him.

“that’s all you’ve been saying since day one” he stood up, continuing, “that i’m too young, that i should enjoy myself while i can, go out, meet people…” he paced back and forth. “but i don’t want to. and when i do, when i sleep with someone, it’s to forget the one person i can’t have. the one person who despises me and makes me wait like fucking time isn’t finite while she gives herself to any bastard who shows up” his voice came out fast and rough, emotions weighing down every syllable as he confessed - not how he had planned - turning to face you, watching your confused expression.

“why can’t you see that? what do i have to do for you to notice me?” he stepped closer again, stopping right in front of you, looking down. “tell me, if i can’t stop loving you, what should i do?” because if you knew so much about feelings, you should have an answer.

and even if there was one - which there wasn’t - you knew he wouldn’t accept it. you looked at his face and reached out, hesitating halfway before touching his shirt and letting your hand slide down until you were playing with the accessories on his belt, looping one of the metal chains around your finger as you wet your lower lip.

it was killing him. your mixed signals, your half-signals, the ones that weren’t even there. even when it wasn’t your intention, everything you did had an almost intoxicating effect on him.

sunoo caught your hand around the chain, and as you lifted your face to look at him, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. they parted, and he slightly opened his mouth, his free hand sliding to your nape, ready to deepen it. the contact sent a shock down from your neck to the base of your spine, making your back arch.

“the hell are you doing?!”

you heard the voice nearby and pulled away abruptly. the boy turned and spotted the slightly hunched figure holding a beer bottle, leaning against a car for balance. your ex. he looked at you once more before fixing his gaze on the man slowly approaching.

and like an automatic response, there you went, stepping in front of him, wiping your mouth and crossing your arms. “what are you doing here?” you asked. the older man wore an open flannel shirt, badly done tattoos across his torso. “you didn’t block me on instagram…” he replied with a weak laugh. “just had to check where the show was, sweetheart” his words dragged out as he staggered. “we need to talk”

“i’m still working.” sunoo felt a vein pulse in his forehead, his fist clenching. of course… you’d give that guy a chance to talk once your shift ended, sure thing.

then the man stopped, a dark smile spreading across his face as he noticed sunoo behind you. “i see… working on what? fucking with teenagers now? i knew you were a slut but damn”. your body tensed so hard your jaw clenched, afraid he’d say something about sunoo that he didn’t deserve to hear.

sunoo watched, his blood slowly boiling. he didn’t even remember the idiot’s name, biting his lip hard enough to taste metal. you stood in front of him, protecting him from something he didn’t need protection from. it didn’t take long before the man stepped closer, raising his hand toward you. but the kim was faster, pulling you back and watching the other stumble, swiping at the air. “i think she made it clear, man. go home” sunoo said seriously. “fu-ckin’ bastard!… or what!? huh? what are you gonna do?!”

the bassist moved you behind him as your ex grabbed his shirt, yanking him - not strong enough to make him move at all, more leaning on him than anything - but unlike him, sunoo didn’t react, just stared with a neutral expression. “go home” he repeated quietly, lifting one eyebrow slightly as the disgusting smell of alcohol hit him.

stubborn, the man holding his collar shifted his gaze to you. “this your new boyfriend, yeah?! that’s why you were fucking leaving? stupid bitch! i should’ve known better!” and just as sunoo realized he was about to spit, his slender hand shot up, grabbing the man by the throat, making him choke and stumble back, coughing toward the ground. “you—gh… piece of shit—!”

and that was it. the moment your ex lunged at him, sunoo grabbed him and punched, hitting his jaw so hard (not intentionally, just pure luck) that he blacked out instantly. his heavy body, a bit bigger than sunoo’s, dropped completely limp to the ground; the nearly empty bottle slipped from his hand, cracking as the last drops spilled out.

it happened so fast that all you had time to do was widen your eyes, hear the dull thud, and pull a shocked expression.

you stepped closer, crouching down beside the man’s body. “fuck, you knocked him out” you said simply, checking his pulse.

he could’ve said it wasn’t intentional, but he didn’t give a single fuck about your ex or any other guy you had mentioned over the past year like a broken record. none of them were worth shit. and the bassist was fed up. when his eyes landed on you leaning over the idiot who had practically lunged to hit you, that was it. the very last straw.

sunoo grabbed you under the arm, pulling you up to your feet and dragging you away from there. you protested. he was doing it again. “sunoo, we can’t just leave him there” you tried to break free this time, more agitated than when he had pulled you out of the dressing room. “stop this”

“sunoo!” you shouted, and he tensed, cracking his neck before stopping and turning to you, bending down and throwing you over his shoulder with ease. not a word as you kept demanding he let you go and call a fucking ambulance.

you heard the van door slide open and within seconds you were tossed onto one of the seats. a van with three rows of worn upholstery besides the driver’s seats, dark tinted windows, completely empty since all the equipment was still inside the warehouse. the door slammed shut again and you lunged at him, struggling, trying to push against his chest without enough strength, without enough intention. “let me out!” you demanded. and he didn’t even consider it. “i’m serious, kim sunoo!”

he knew you weren’t.

sunoo pinned your wrists together behind you and captured your mouth again, hungry, completely possessed. his irritation spilled through his tongue, demanding entry. an entry you gave as he cornered you deeper into the seat, crawling over you, settling between your legs. you scrunched your nose and let out a muffled sound when he bit your lower lip hard before sucking on the soft flesh and returning to the heavy kiss, leaving you no room to breathe. he would kiss you until you understood, kiss you until your body burned so hot your clothes became unbearable, kiss you until you were begging for him.

your head spun. his lips crushed against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth with insistence. saliva mixed, acting like a poison in your system, making you crave more.

when your wrists slipped free from his sweaty grip, it wasn’t to push him away anymore. your fingers tangled into his dark hair, pulling him closer, tilting his head so your mouths could fit better, clashing together, wet sounds and low murmurs echoing inside the van.

sunoo’s hands wrapped around your waist, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, feeling the warm, smooth skin he dreamed about every night.

his restless mouth trailed down, finally letting you catch some air, licking from your chin to your neck, where he turned cruel - not out of intent to tease, but because he was completely gone, acting like you were his first meal in ages - biting into the sensitive skin, sucking hard, leaving marks that would be visible in the morning, and when they faded, he’d mark you again. his hands moved higher, tugging impatiently at the buttons of your shirt that got in his way, pulling it off you and tossing it somewhere onto the floor.

you held onto the back of his neck, eyes squeezing shut lightly when he buried his face between your breasts, cupping them in his hands and pressing them together, breathing you in, practically growling when the sweet scent reached his brain, memorizing it. he lifted his gaze to you as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, pulling one side of your lace bra down and taking your hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking with need.

your thighs tried to press together, but all you could do was squirm, rubbing against his knee as it sank into the seat right there. he noticed, lifting his leg until it pressed against your covered center, applying pressure, a slow back-and-forth that made your eyes roll for the first time that night.

you tried to hold yourself up on one elbow, your other hand still tangled in his soft hair as he easily unclasped your bra, sliding it down, gathering your breasts to take both peaks into his mouth, his tongue slipping between them before sucking as if they were candy. “you’re fucking delicious” he muttered hoarsely, losing himself on it.

“s-shut up…” you mumbled, breathy, making him smirk before scattering kisses across the soft skin, nibbling here and there. he took his time with each breast, sucking hard enough to leave them swollen and sensitive.

he slid down to the van floor, on his knees, gripping your hips and pulling you closer to the edge now. he took off his own shirt, giving you a glimpse of his narrow waist, lean but toned torso, and the sharp pelvic bones that traced a dangerous line into his dark jeans. you wet your lips watching, and he noticed, letting out a low, knowing laugh as his quick fingers worked to unbutton your slacks and slide them down your legs.

sunoo spread your legs and looked, his hardened length twitching when the lace of your underwear was practically swallowed by your folds. you wanted to tell him not to look, turning your face away and pressing your lips together, but he didn’t give you a choice lifting his eyes back to you. “turn around. ass up” his rough voice ordered.

it took you a few seconds to process before you found yourself pathetically doing exactly as he said.

you hugged the back of the seat, pressing your cheek against the headrest, brows knitting when he lightly dragged his nails over your ass, teasing before landing a sharp, unexpected slap that only made you arch further for him; your pussy was outlined against the fabric, every contour visible, and he practically salivated at the sight. the bassist leaned closer, biting into one of the soft curves, sliding the tip of his nose along your skin until his face was buried against you, hovering his mouth over your clothed pussy.

he licked slowly once, from your clit to your back entrance, over the fabric, making your legs tremble. then he pulled your underwear aside with his thumb, watching a thin string of slick stretch.

sunoo brought his free hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers before guiding two down to your tight entrance. they slid in embarrassingly easily with how soaked you were. “sssss…” he muttered, starting to pump his digits inside you.

your hands gripped the seat, nails digging into the worn cushioning as you bit your lower lip to hold back your moans, but he wouldn’t allow it. the moment he noticed, he spread and closed his fingers in a scissoring motion, stretching you open and making your eyes roll back as a dragged-out whine slipped past your pouty lips.

“don’t hide, princess… i want all of you…” he murmured against the curve of your ass, licking there before leaving a harsh mark. he picked up the pace, adding another finger once your pussy no longer struggled to take them, pushing all three in to the base and curling them inside. “that’s it, baby… doing so well” the praise hit you like a dart to the chest, making your body twitch as your hand instinctively moved between your legs, searching for your clit.

but sunoo didn’t let you as well. the second he saw you trying to ease the pressure, he clicked his tongue and stopped abruptly, pulling a small frustrated sound from you.

he grabbed the seam of your panties and tore the already soaked fabric apart, tossing it somewhere with your shirt, pinning your wrists against your hips. “i didn’t say you could touch yourself either” he snapped, leaning down again, this time using his tongue to fuck your pulsing entrance while his finger moved to your sensitive spot. it was so swollen, so warm, begging for attention.

he pinched it once before rubbing, picking up a fast pace that made you slide against his palm. you bit into the seat, whining, your hips turning erratic, chasing more, arching… your moans had turned into muffled groans. “mmh, so tight… so good” he said against you, mouth full, opening wider to swallow your sex, his nose and chin getting slick.

“s-sunoo…” you babbled when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, latching onto your clit and sucking like his life depended on it, while sliding his fingers back inside you just like before, stretching you more.

from the way you whimpered and how your pussy clenched around him, your orgasm was close, which only made him hungrier to see you fall apart. he added a fourth finger, thrusting in and out as he pulled to watch your slick spill from you, admiring how your inner lips followed the movement, perfectly fitted. your body trembling like a desperate little thing.

sunoo parted his lips slightly when your body tightened and your release began to spill, soaking his fingers and wrist as it ran down your thighs and dampened the seat. “just like that, baby…” he breathed, fascinated, continuing to finger you through the entire orgasm, dragging every last drop out of you.

when he pulled his fingers out with a soft plop, you were still pulsing, clenching around nothing, making him smile in satisfaction. he bit down on his tongue as he stood slightly, dropping onto the opposite seat, hurriedly undoing his belt and pushing his pants down to his ankles, freeing his hard cock from his boxers.

it took you a few seconds to recover. your flushed cheeks dragged against the rough fabric before you lifted yourself and turned to him. fuck, he looked like a goddamn fever dream.

sitting there, collarbones sharp, thighs firm and pale even in the dim light. his lips were wet, and for the first time you noticed sunoo didn’t just have the snake bites and ear piercings, there was a barbell piercing through the flushed head of his dick, running from one side to the other, catching a faint beam of light. it twitched against his abs.

your eyes lifted to his, and that wasn’t the same band boy you had met years ago. he was different - ridiculously hot for his own good - with a predatory stare that made it clear you weren’t leaving that fucking without being feasted first.

“come here” he said, patting his thighs in an open invitation. and like you were hypnotized, you moved without thinking, biting your lip as you climbed into his lap. you glanced down at his swollen length, your hand reaching out curiously, but sunoo caught your wrist and brought it to his mouth, biting. it wasn’t about him today, it was about you.

he cupped your chin with his other hand, pulling you closer to kiss you again. this time deeper, slower, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. your small hands rested on his shoulders, your body instinctively pressing into his.

sunoo’s hands slid down your waist, finding your ass again, squeezing firmly, urging you to move. and you did, grinding against him without hesitation, gasping against his lip as your oversensitive pussy met him again. “what is it, hm? want to stop?” he pulled back slightly, mimicking your pout, watching you shake your head. “gonna ride me real good, baby?” he asked, and you nodded.

you adjusted yourself, lifting your hips and guiding his cock to your entrance, feeling the cool metal of the piercing send little shocks through you, making your nipples tighten further. you whimpered as you sank down, taking him inch by inch, watching his expression closely: jaw slack, eyes shut. he was so beautiful…

you started moving, rolling your hips forward and back, feeling him deep inside you, so full your moans came out like broken sobs. you held onto his neck, glancing down where you connected, focused on getting the rhythm right since you weren’t that experienced on top. “am i doing it right?” your voice came out small and breathy, and sunoo practically malfunctioned at the question, nodding quickly as he helped guide your hips.

he could bet that whenever those other guys fucked you, it was just some boring missionary where you barely felt anything, and the thought made him grip your hips harder before snapping his gaze back to yours, thrusting up once to meet you halfway, making you choke on a sound.

he did it again, sliding his hands under your thighs now, holding you up as his hips took over, driving into you in a rough rhythm. your breasts bounced, your expression melting as you tried to speak and failed. “m’so g-good…”

“full… feel so full…”

sunoo let your body drop back down and you gasped at the impact before bouncing more, biting your lip, feeling your arms going numb and your thighs burn deliciously from the repeated motion.

he attacked your neck, licking and sucking to muffle his own sounds, unsure whether to grip your ass harder or play with your sensitive tits. “fuck… so good f’me… so fucking good…” a shiver ran down his spine when your lips brushed near his ear, moaning just like he had always imagined. “gonna let me come inside? hmm?” he asked, breath rough, getting only your shaky “m-mhm” in response.

he felt himself getting closer, his hold tightening as if he wanted to fuse you together for a moment. he set a relentless pace, each motion deliberate and deep, making your legs tremble, your knees weak. the coil in your stomach snapped tight, stars flooding your vision as drool slipped from the corner of your mouth.

your nails dragged down his back, your head falling back completely.

you were so sensitive, so full, so- and the moment he came inside you, your second orgasm crashed over you too, wiping every thought away until all that remained was kim sunoo. your body tensed as you let out a broken moan that echoed through the space.

you felt him filling you, warmth spilling deep inside, too much for your tight walls to keep. a white ring forming at the base of his cock as cum leaked, smearing your thighs and his pubis.

his body slowly relaxed. his hand traced along the bones of your spine while you tried to steady your breathing, your head resting to the side against the seat, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. his once-styled hair was soaked with sweat now, just like his chest and arms. and you, marked everywhere he had touched, with your lower lip bruised from how much you’d bitten it.

the sound of the driver’s door opening caught you both off guard. you looked over the seat as sunghoon stepped in and froze. his lips parted, brows furrowing. “the fuck?!” he blurted before backing out just as fast, slamming the door. poor man. “i need a raise” you heard him mutter as he walked away.

you stayed silent for a few seconds before both breaking into laughter, easing the embarrassment creeping in as the adrenaline faded. you had really done that with him… and it felt so right.

you lowered your gaze, cheeks warming.

“don’t be like this…” sunoo whispered, gently tracing patterns along your back with his fingertips. it was impossible. you had broken too many of your own rules. there was no going back now.

you thought for a moment, sniffled softly, and asked “the words before we got here… did you mean it?” your voice came out calm for the first time that night, your fingers absentmindedly tracing soft patterns along his arm. the post-orgasm clarity finally settling in.

“every single one of them” he replied. “why?”

“nothing,” you tried to hide your smile - and failed - burying your face in the curve of his neck. he smiled faintly when he noticed.

you were his.

***

the dark road was lit only by the vehicles’ headlights, the sky heavy and overcast, threatening rain anytime. since the show had been in another city, you had to head back, driving through the night on the highway just to finally get home and rest after everything that had happened. and at that very moment, a very stressed sunghoon behind the wheel was chewing each and every one of you out.

“and they still had the nerve to charge me that shitty 25 bucks for the lamp. a lamp that JONGSEONG broke, not me. not to mention i get to the van for one second of peace and see you two all over each other in here” the older one grumbled, pointing a finger at sunoo, who was who was sitting in the passenger seat beside him.

“uhh someone needing to get laid real bad” jay commented from the back, sprawled across the last row while absentmindedly running his fingers through the drummer’s hair, her body sleeping on top of his chest. a pile of equipment and instruments was stacked across the middle seats after they’d shoved everything back in.

the comment pulled a quiet chuckle out of everyone still awake, except sunghoon of course, who frowned and huffed, “you asshole, you almost fucked right in front of me!” he snapped, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “and on top of that, where the fuck is heeseung? i couldn’t find him anywhere”

wait. and then you raised an eyebrow, lifting your gaze from your phone - where you’d been exchanging silent messages with sunoo - letting your eyes sweep across the van, counting heads in your mind before turning toward the front seats.

“we need to turn back” you said urgently.

“you’ve gotta be kidding”

“i’m not. we forgot heeseung. we have to get him back” you said, your expression caught somewhere between holding back a laugh and sheer panic.

#enhypen_is_seven

the retinue of noctyra arrived with the first rays of dawn. carriages in shades of black and red devoured every trace of light that struck them, as did their standards, upon which the symbol of an inverted moon stood boldly before a weakened sun. even so, the castle had been abuzz since long before daybreak. you, princess of primaverae, watched as the knights dismounted one by one from their horses around the larger assembly, the royal procession coming to its end as they halted before the grand stairway.

the queen passed by your side and whispered, “please, be courteous” and you merely nodded, lacking any true enthusiasm. trumpets sounded, and soon they were announced: the queen of noctyra, her royal hand, one of her councilors, and of course… kim seonwoo - sunoo, as he was commonly called - future king of noctyra and, to your misfortune, your future husband as well; a decision in which you had held precisely no say.

months prior, the former king of noctyra had succumbed to an incurable illness of delirium, fever, and chills, and it had not taken long for him to depart this world - may the gods keep him. thus, his queen proposed to primaverae the unification of their strengths through an arranged marriage: her son and heir to the throne, and the firstborn princess of the fertile kingdom. it was perfect. they possessed minerals, military might, a cold and striking beauty; primaverae held abundant harvests, enough to feed armies, strong trade borders, and a warmth unknown to the noctyrians.

you were not angry about the arrangement itself. in truth, it was something your amah had spoken of since you were six years old. “love is a distant thing for those born of noble blood, little one”.

but did it have to be him?

sunoo’s reputation preceded him. he was undeniably beautiful, even at rest. pale skin, full lips, and silken hair, enough to make anyone pause for a few seconds in quiet admiration. but he was cruel.

servants found gagged, entire families driven from their homes, tournaments fought to the brink of death for his amusement, and a temperament steeped in duplicity. at least, that was what the court whispered of him. to the people, however, he was nothing short of pleasing to behold, a perfect prince who followed conduct beyond reproach.

you descended the steps slowly to join the others. first, you greeted the queen, who measured you from head to toe before offering a satisfied smile, and lastly, your promised.

sunoo extended his hand toward you, an unmistakable façade of disinterest upon his face as he studied you. one of the muscles near his brow twitched ever so slightly, betraying discomfort in waiting. he had not yet taken the throne, yet already carried himself as king. you swallowed and inclined yourself faintly, taking his palm and pressing a brief, dry seal upon the back of his hand. the gesture drew a small, crooked smile from him; submissive, though displeased, he thought.

“princess y/n” he said, “i trust the hospitality of primaverae shall be kinder than the journey that brought us here”.

soon after, the castle’s ladies-in-waiting stepped forward to escort the newly arrived guests to their chambers, while the knights hauled the excessive amount of baggage into the palace halls.

“at this rate, it seems they intend to stay forever” you remarked once they were far enough away.

“and perhaps they shall” your mother replied. “when the unification of the realms comes to pass, it will make little difference”.

the week of welcome would be marked by many events. on the first night, a banquet meant to last two full days; guided excursions for the prince to become acquainted with the kingdom - naturally, in your company - so that at the very least some form of partnership might take root. a tournament to stir the people and spread the good news, and finally, a grand ball. all of it intertwined with countless meetings, as both realms debated demands, proposals, and aligned their strategies.

you could scarcely wait for it all to be over.

as the firstborn princess with no claim to the throne, your life had always been one of concessions. suitors were never admirable, for the simple reason that you had no kingdom to offer in exchange. you practiced painting, embroidery, archery, learned every dialect available to you, and were still compelled to attend political gatherings; your father deeming it important that you not grow into an ignorant woman, partly bitter by the fact that he had no son to accompany him in such matters.

***

as night fell, your amah summoned you. you had been reading, reclined against one of the apple trees in the rear garden, and lingered for a few minutes before finally going. you bathed, perfumed yourself, and allowed your maids to dress you. once, you had overheard one of them jest that it was like playing with dolls. still, they never disappointed.

a satin gown in pale shades of green adorned you, light and leaving your shoulders bare. your hair was brushed and gathered with an ornament encrusted with small precious stones fastened at the back, a few loose strands falling forward to frame your face.

the noise of the great hall was overwhelming. music, the clinking of goblets and cutlery, conversations, laughter, footsteps. you walked toward the royal table set upon the dais and took your seat to the left of your mother. and just as you thought you might enjoy a peaceful supper, you saw the imposing figure stride toward you, offering a simple smile before pulling out the chair beside yours and seating himself despite the many other vacant places.

sunoo was just as elegant, clad in dark garments of brown and black, his hair slightly damp and brushed back. he arrived accompanied by his personal guard, a tall young man with a hardened expression, a scar through his brow, and a sharp jawline, sir riki. you had heard of him as well. apparently, the two had grown close in childhood, when riki arrived at the courtyards of noctyra alongside other servants, purchased by the former king. the boy knew how to wield a sword and had disarmed young seonwoo in the blink of an eye. what began as rivalry became friendship, and in time, inseparability. he was handsome; you could not help but look.

“do you like what you see, princess?” kim’s velvety voice murmured low beside you.

“pardon?” you asked, knitting your brow.

“oh no, i did not mean to interrupt… truly, i cannot blame you”, the prince continued, glancing away from you for a moment as his gaze slid over the guard standing at attention. “he truly is handsome. but it is hardly courteous to covet another man in the presence of the one you are going to marry…”

you swallowed with difficulty, straightening in your seat.

“that was not my intention, your highness” you replied, sparing him further justification, knowing full well that was precisely what he desired.

“was it not? for i am already submitting myself to marrying you…” sunoo leaned in just enough to whisper the poisoned words at your ear, feigning to the others that he had merely come closer to tuck a strand of hair behind it. “and i would hate for my wife to be some sort of whore…”

the flush rose instantly to your cheeks. an outrage. you wished to rise, beg leave of the table, claim a sudden pain in your stomach, but the young man continued, placing his hand upon your covered thigh beneath the table and signaling for wine to be poured.

detestable.

the following day, you made a point of not attending the continuation of the banquet, hiding instead in the servants’ wing, reading tales of maidens who waged war and rode magical beasts, and listening to the gossip of the girls you considered your friends. you had done it so for as long as you could remember. your wetnurse never discouraged it - and the king and queen of primaverae knew only what suited them - since were so often alone. the other young women of the royal family merely frequented the castle; many lived in distant lands beyond the sea, others simply did not adapt to noble life, according to your parents.

“tell us how the rest of the night with prince sunoo was, your highness, please!” hopeful eyes fluttered their lashes in your direction. for half a second, you recalled the young man’s indecent words, pressing your lips into a thin line before shaking your head to send the memory away.

“it was nothing of note, i swear to you. he walked me to my chamber and-”

“and…?!” they insisted in unison.

“and nothing! he wished me good night and thanked me for the company” you finished with an irritated edge to your voice. “why are you all so eager to know?”

they exchanged glances. some covered their mouths, others looked away, until one cleared her throat and stepped closer, seating herself at the edge of the bed where you sat.

“we heard…” she glanced around to ensure no one beyond the gathered group might overhear. “that prince kim does not truly distinguish between men and women”, your eyes narrowed at once. “and we also heard” said the smallest among the servants, “that the prince seems far too close to his guard… sir riki…”

at that moment, something clicked within your mind, as though a riddle had been solved before it was ever posed. the group, however, lost itself in the subject, eager only to chatter about how handsome sir riki was - tall, strikingly serious - and how many among them had been taking turns volunteering to serve the castle’s guest tower, all for the chance to catch a glimpse of him.

***

you awoke to knocking at your door. it was rhythmic, a melody you recognized. you dragged yourself over to open it, pulling the door only a small crack before seeing your old maid holding a basket of fruit and a red dress.

“are you awake already? you have an engagement today, do you remember?” she waited until the opening was wide enough to step inside. in ten seconds or less, the bent old woman was drawing back the curtains, flooding the room with light and making you throw yourself back beneath the covers.

“tell them i have a fever!” you grumbled, muffled.

“do not be like that, hm? the prince will be waiting for you in the gardens. you like the gardens”.

“may he go to hell!” you went on, shoving a pillow over your head.

“y/n!” the older woman scolded you, muttering softly something about the gods granting her more patience.

soon, you felt the mattress sink at the edge, and warm hands settled upon your disheveled hair, stroking it gently. “i know it is not easy, child. i know days as a future queen can frighten you as well, but if you do not do it now, you will do it later… and i tell you with certainty that time is not so kind…” her calm, trembling voice carried a reassurance unlike any other.

she was right. you rose reluctantly and dressed yourself… rose perfume, and a light, loose gown in the colors of the kim house sigil.

when you reached the gardens in haste - late - you saw sunoo and riki conversing as they walked, as though examining everything. the gardens of primaverae were an ode to eternal spring: white auroras, golden tulips, blossom-bearing trees that shed petals even without wind; still, it was a beauty too abstract to fully take them in.

the taller man was the first to notice you, offering a brief nod and a bow to both before departing.

“you are late,” sunoo remarked. he made no effort to look at you, simply continued along the path of stone and gravel with his hands clasped behind his back. “were you not taught proper manners?”

you wished to click your tongue, but steadied yourself, drawing a deep breath before forcing a smile.

“i was delayed while getting ready,” meaning, at the very least, that the delay had been in service of pleasing him.

“were you?” the prince finally halted and turned to face you. amber eyes roamed over your body, sly and assessing, measuring your proportions in his mind - imagining how his hands would fit around each part: hips, waist, bust, throat… - “and yet…” he took a step closer, closing the distance, bending so his face was level with yours. “i am not impressed”.

you looked away once more, embarrassed and at a loss for words, or rather, unsure of what you could say that would not endanger the entire marriage.

“look at me when i speak to you” he said, gripping your chin firmly and forcing your face up. “did you hear me? we have a problem here… my wife does not impress me, not even the first time we are alone together…” his breath brushed over you as he looked down.

it was too much. the closeness, the insolence.

you grabbed his wrist with one hand and, with the other, slapped his perfect face. his head tipped slightly to the side, and he broke into a wide smile before looking back at you, the reddened mark already blooming on his cheekbone. you saw his tongue slide along the inside of his mouth before he licked his dry lower lip.

“perhaps this will impress you, then” you suggested annoyed, your breath uneven from acting on impulse.

sunoo liked it far more than you could imagine. accustomed to the monotony of the nobility, to compliant smiles and the ease with which his grotesque demands were accepted, it was a delight to find someone willing to play at who would relinquish control first.

he laughed mockingly, taking one step forward, then another, and another, pushing you back with him until you were pressed tight, caught between him and a wall of ivy, far from prying eyes.

“have you lost your sense, princess?” his voice was rough, and he made a point of pressing his body into yours, feeling your chest rise and fall as he pinned your wrists, one on either side. “if i should even use that honorific, considering you behave more like a fucking brute”.

“i lost my sense in the same place you left your respect” you shot back.

“did you? and why should i have any respect for you at all? enlighten me” he murmured, sliding his lips close to your earlobe, nipping there; his scent mingled with his cool breath. “besides, i heard you are already twenty-two… a princess who could not secure a proper husband by that age, with nothing to offer but a tight little cunt for me to fuck… do not be ridiculous demanding respect”.

your teeth clenched together, grinding. anger made your heart pound against your ribcage, and you did not wish to admit it, but having him so close, speaking such vile, degrading things about you, was making your thighs slick.

and to your misfortune, it did not go unnoticed by the future king, not when he could so clearly sense your struggle to remain standing and the way you swallowed with effort.

“by the gods, you are trembling…” he slid the tip of his nose along your cheek. “you like being treated this way, don’t you?” he watched you shake your head again and again, pressing your lips tight to keep from letting out any sound that might entertain him further. “are you certain? if i knelt this very moment and slipped beneath your skirts, would i not find your little cunt soaked? is that what you are telling me?”

you bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to give him more proof.

“i know your kind, princess…” this time, the title was drawn out, emphasized, almost indulgent. “you will fight it, say you do not want it… and in less than a month, i will have you crawling across my chambers… fucked and dripping” he promised, before releasing you and stepping away as if nothing had happened. he ran his hands through his hair, straightening himself and turning his back to you. “do not forget that we have a ride planned near sunset. i know you possess the manners of a leper from the outskirts, but perhaps you will remember to arrive on time”.

***

as the days passed, you grew increasingly frustrated with the current situation.

it was during the walks, when his hand circled your waist with an untimely familiarity, long fingers pressing the fabric of your vest against your skin, while his voice - sweet as poison -criticized everything around you. during archery practice, where the tension reached its peak: he melded himself to your back, the heat of his body seeping through layers of clothing in an unrequested help. Sunoo would settle his chin upon your shoulder, his warm, measured breath brushing your neck, while his hands - larger, steadier - covered yours. he would whisper, lips grazing almost deliberately against the curve of your ear, how you seemed “too loose” for such an activity, suggesting you devote yourself to “more delicate” pursuits, all while his gaze traveled shamelessly over every visible inch of your skin.

and, as if that were not enough, there were the war simulations, where eunuchs and guides tested your compatibility to rule through hypothetical scenarios.

“if we can act peacefully, why would we send a spy into another kingdom? that would easily raise suspicion and place lives at risk” you said sharply, palms pressed against the open map upon the wide ivory table, shoulders tense as you fixed your gaze upon the prince across from you.

“kings must be willing to make small sacrifices for the entirety of the realm. if the spy can keep me informed, excellent. if he must die, then i will know i must proceed with caution…” he replied, studying his own nails. unlike you, he didn’t even alter his tone, utterly secure, at times seemingly amused by the way your lips and face flushed with anger.

beside him, sir riki observed everything in a hungry silence. his elbow rested upon the arm of the chair, fingertips brushing his lower lip as his shoulders slanted to one side; relaxed. they were not the first glances cast in your direction, and since the prince appeared unconcerned, the blond made no effort to restrain himself as he watched the neckline of your dress rise and fall when you crossed your arms.

you were nearly certain it was intentional on their part, a sort of game to see who might unsettle you faster.

“this is nothing but cruelty! frankly, how can anyone consider leaving kingdoms in the hands of a sadist?” you straightened your posture. the primaverae councilor accompanying you closed his eyes, massaging his temples. one of the eunuchs smiled and nodded, as though understanding both perspectives.

“and what, precisely, do you gain by being kind, princess?” sunoo continued, finally lifting his foxlike gaze. there was something dark there, a silent challenge that sank straight into your stomach. “give us some background… tell us what you expect to inherit by being so… submissive to pacifism?”

you bit the inside of your cheek, the metallic taste sharpening your senses further, before turning on your heel and leaving the strategy hall as the young man let out a laugh you could almost feel licking the back of your neck a second before the door slammed shut.

“your highness may laugh, but a woman so tempestuous could easily become an inconvenience…” riki muttered, reaching for one of the books upon the table, flipping through it without real attention, studying from the corner of his eye as the other weighed his words.

“and what would you suggest? that i have her mouth sewn shut?”

“no, that… certainly not” he denied, moving with lethal elegance, bringing his lips within inches of sunoo’s ear. his long, strong arm braced itself against the back of the prince’s chair, enclosing him. “why not give her other matters to occupy herself with? she is always so aware, so tense… women like her are better when they are quiet… or moaning”.

the two exchanged a look, sharing a mutual understanding.

***

during that afternoon, the embroidery room was unusually silent. the other girls were either late or simply would not come. the lack of company was not so unpleasant; you found it easier to concentrate and pricked your fingers less, though the heavy breathing of the senior matron -responsible for the lesson and exceedingly demanding in execution - caught your attention now and then as she dozed. she was a woman even older than your amah, wrinkled and sour as a passion fruit.

through the colored stained glass, light filtered in and reflected curious, abstract shapes upon the floor. the silence of the sewing room was broken only by the rhythmic sound of the needle piercing the linen stretched tight in the hoop. it was meticulous work, the sort of “delicate” task your future husband insisted was your proper place. your hands still trembled faintly with the restrained fury from the strategy hall; each stitch was driven with unnecessary force, as you were punishing the fabric, and every time the sharp needle skewered through it at an angle and pierced the hand you used as support, you let out a soft, pained whimper.

you were focused enough not to notice when the door opened and closed. the sound of dry footsteps approached from behind, distant as it was from another dimension, while you hummed a long-familiar lullaby.

“if i didn’t come to check, i do not think i would have believed it…” the voice was low, laden with veiled acidity. your body jolted in surprise, lips parting.

speaking of the devil…

before you could protest or rise, his hands settled on your shoulders, gripping them with a firmness that kept you pinned to the chair as he bent and smiled near the curve of your neck. “ssshh…” he gestured with his brow toward the other side of the room. the matron had not noticed either, and judging by her blindness in one eye and impending deafness, if they remained very quiet, she wouldn’t at all…

“you seemed so inflamed earlier today… so skittish and hateful… yet here you are now, doing exactly as i told you. quiet and obedient…” he whispered, sending chills down your spine as you frowned and clenched your teeth.

one of his hands left your shoulder, sliding slowly down your arm until it reached your small hand, following the motion of the needle’s penetration, slow and erratic now that your body reacted without permission. the prince laughed through his nose. “sir riki gave me an idea of how to help you with all this… pent-up energy…” his hand continued downward, roaming your waist cinched by the corset, reaching your covered thigh sliding further until he was cupping the inner region. “but i need you to behave… we do not want trouble, yes?”

and the fact that you didn’t answer was confirmation enough.

you found yourself biting your lower lip and tensing as you watched the prince kneel before you, lifting the skirts of your gown and slipping beneath them. your eyes widened as you glanced toward the matron again, then to the doorway, and finally to the subtle bulge beneath your dress where the young man now hid.

a silent war raged within you, but the truth was that your pride was losing badly to your desire. it was infuriating how his harsh words and authoritarian air fueled the fire already burning in your belly. you cursed yourself for being so vulnerable to that arrogance, for being unable to sustain the hatred you had sworn to keep as you watched him disappear beneath the fabric of your skirts. your conscience screamed that this was a mistake, that you should be a dignified princess, but your nature - far more lascivious than anyone dare suspect - yearned to be subdued. you were too stubborn to confess it, but deep down, the only thing that truly enraged you was the fact that he knew exactly how to undo you.

sunoo smiled while beneath you. his touch was gentle, yet unceremonious. he lifted the silk of your chemise up to your hips and, gripping your waist, dragged you closer to the edge of the chair, drawing your first sharp gasp.

he leaned in and nipped at your thigh before spreading them apart to observe your center. the small lips were pressed together within the slit, like a soft brioche bun, flushed by heat and anticipation. when he parted the tender flesh with both thumbs, he could see your untouched entrance and the throbbing bundle of nerves pulsing desperately. he gathered saliva and delivered the first lick, a long stroke from bottom to top, slow.

it was sweet, warm, delicious to feel. it didn’t take long before his mouth was fully upon your sex, tongue working deep while his nose brushed the swollen nub; he sniffed and murmured against the flesh how delectable you were, that his desire was to tear that cursed dress from you and spread you wide for anyone who wished to watch.

his slender fingers curled around one of your calves, lifting it swiftly onto his shoulder as he moved closer and buried his face in you. he sucked noisily, trapping your cunt between his lips and chewing. the slickness spilling from your slit wet his chin, and the way you tried to clutch at his hair through the layers of fabric, desperate for something to hold on to, only made his cock harder inside his trousers.

when he slipped a finger inside, feeling your tight walls, you let out a grunt that stirred the matron awake. blushed and feverish, the only thing you could do was take up the cloth and needle again, pretending to focus on the small tulip embroidery taking shape beneath your hand. you heard the chair scrape, and from the corner of your eye you watched the figure circle the room until she stood at your side. sunoo knew as well; he delighted in feeling your skin prickle and your entrance clamp around his digit with every step.

“this is dreadful. begin again” the old woman snapped after taking the hoop from your trembling fingers and inspecting it through a lens. “by the gods, child, you have done better”.

“yes, ma’am…” you agreed, the words leaving you more as a pant. you struggled not to roll your eyes or throw your head back, feeling the tongue working you slide over your slick clit again and again.

“i shall fetch a new hoop and more thread… you will not leave until you present something acceptable” she said, her slow steps carrying her toward the door.

honestly, you did not care in that moment.

the instant the door closed, the prince emerged from your skirts with a sly smile, far from satisfied. he turned you in his arms with possessive force, making you kneel upon the chair, body bent over its back.

“sunoo…” you called him for the first time, ashamed and utterly weak, and he might have sworn he was delirious.

“relax, i will make you come before she finishes crossing the corridor…” he breathed into your ear before dropping to his knees once more.

you held your skirts at your waist now while the hands of prince kim concerned themselves only with gripping your asscheeks and spreading them, granting full access to your pussy. he nipped at the raised flesh once before returning to lick as though it were his first meal in months. he even edged upward, daringly, pressing dangerously against the muscle of your rear entrance, while you whimpered with need.

it took only his lips sealing around your swollen nub and sucking steadily, while his finger moved in and out inside you, for you to come undone. your legs trembled and you soaked yourself, spilling down to your heels and dampening the chair’s upholstery. he gave a few more kitten-licks with his flat tongue to clean you.

when he rose, he straightened your gown swiftly and pulled you by the arm, making your body collide with his. sunoo’s full mouth captured yours in a ravenous kiss, where you could taste yourself. tongues tangled, and you clutched his shirt, still moaning softly from the fresh orgasm.

when you parted, your eyes, still unfocused, betrayed your dazed state. the prince bit his lower lip, contemplating nothing but carrying you off to his room; the erection in his trousers throbbed painfully now. he touched your cheek with ironic care, stroking it before gripping it firmly and forcing you to look at him, your mouth drawn into a perfect little ‘o’. “feeling better?”

***

the days that followed were a torment of etiquette and enforced silences. you became an expert at observing the floor, the walls, the tapestries, anything that was not those amber-colored eyes. you tried to hate him for leaving you in that state, so vulnerable and needy, but the truth was that your contempt was nothing more than a poorly fitted mask.

if you arrived at the great hall and sunoo was at the table, you would feign illness and retreat to the gardens. if you spotted him in the gardens, you would turn toward the kitchens, where you would finally take your meal. when returning from the hunts, you received neither him nor your father, keeping yourself occupied in your chamber with some book whose words you scarcely knew the translation. you knew it was futile. your maids begged you to give him a chance, claiming he was the only interesting story the castle had seen in years, and so on and so forth.

sir riki also tried to draw near, crossing your path in the corridors and asking mundane questions, as though he sought nothing more than to pad the silence, all the while watching you from afar.

at times, it was inevitable. during the many political meetings when the prince seated himself beside you or across from you, his gaze lingering long enough to make the tips of your ears burn red with embarrassment. when, for whatever reason, he approached you in the library, bracing a hand at your waist as his body brushed against yours to slip between the table and the shelf, forcing you to hold your breath and leave your lips bruised from how hard you bit them. and worst of all: when your unconscious toyed with you, making you dream of sunoo’s soft mouth kissing and licking you while he murmured the lowest insults you knew, and you woke drenched, not only in sweat…

you huffed in the bath, sinking into the stone tub from which steam rose, leaving only your nose and eyes above the water. he was not fair. none of it was. soon enough, the preparations for the wedding would begin, and it would be done, he would be your husband.

the lavender and chamomile steeped in the water were not enough to wash away the agitation bubbling in your blood. in the deep hours of the night, the castle of primaverae exhaled a sepulchral silence, broken only by the crackle of embers in the torches. your body wrapped in a thin silk nightgown with a robe thrown over it, you walked toward the library, hoping that the mental fatigue of dense reading would finally still the throbbing between your legs and the ache pounding just behind your eyes.

however, as you turned the corridor that led to the royal guest wing, a sound made you halt. voices. low, muffled, but charged with a vibration you would recognize anywhere. the door to sunoo’s chambers stood ajar, allowing a blade of golden light to spill across the dark carpet of the hallway.

the first to emerge was a courtesan. you recognized her by sight; she was one of the favorites among the nobles who visited the court, famed for her flexibility and vast experience. she passed by you without noticing your presence in the shadows, adjusting her bodice with quick hands, blonde hair in sinful disarray and a sated smile upon stained lips. your heart raced, and your hand flew to cover your mouth as you forced yourself into silence.

but there was more…

heavier footsteps echoed. from the dimness of the chamber emerged the solid figure of riki. he did not look like a guard on duty; his linen tunic was open halfway down his chest, revealing tanned skin and sweat gleaming beneath the yellowed light. he paused in the doorway, running a hand through his hair with a weary sigh as he finished adjusting the leather belt at his waist.

through the gap in the door, you could see sunoo. the kim was sprawled in a velvet armchair, shirt undone, holding a goblet of wine with negligent elegance. fox eyes met riki’s hawk gaze in a silent exchange of possession and complicity that made your stomach lurch. riki let out a low laugh, something rough and intimate, before turning toward the corridor, forcing you to retreat deeper into the shadow of a pillar, holding your breath until your lungs burned.

the young man walked slowly, passing only a few paces away. he smelled of sandalwood mixed with vanilla, far too sweet. he stopped for a few seconds and swept the surroundings with trained, sharp eyes, lingering far too long when he looked in your direction. for an endless moment, you were certain he had discovered you. one corner of his mouth lifted into a cynical smile.

he did not expose you, however. he only continued on his way, leaving you to stew in what you had seen without explanations. your body even slipped slightly as it leaned against the marble pillar.

it took several minutes for you to steady yourself on your feet again and retrace your steps, locking yourself inside your room. first came shame, imagining what sort of things the three of them might have done; then anger, thinking that whatever it was amounted to a slight against you… and finally, you felt sick with guilt, because the true betrayal was that you had not taken part.

***

after the incident, your temperament had escalated in catastrophic fashion. you refused to eat the dishes of the northern kingdom, refused to attend outings, and when you did go, you made no effort to smile or show politeness to others. if asked about the wedding dress, you said anything would do, even suggesting a black fabric, “yes, black like the ones we wear when we go to the crypts, wouldn’t that be marvelous?”

not even the queens were spared your senselessness.

during one of the afternoon teas, customarily held in the winter garden of primaverae castle -where the two queens had grown accustomed to meeting for friendly conversation - the queen of noctyra demanded your presence. well, at least someone from that baleful kingdom did. you put on your crown with great reluctance, walking heavily toward the place.

the doors of transparent, carved material opened, and you could hear the voices chatting animatedly. something about floral arrangements and what kinds of recipes to serve during the wedding festivities. with a closed expression, you presented yourself and took the seat set apart for you.

“we were speaking of the great day. are you excited, princess y/n?” queen kim asked gently, as a servant poured her more tea.

“excited for what exactly, your majesty?” you replied bluntly.

your mother cleared her throat and gave you a small kick beneath the table.

“well, it is expected that you feel at least somewhat eager for the benefits this union will bring to both realms…”

“sincerely speaking… i fail to see any. we have no war approaching; however, you do have hungry soldiers, indeed. i mean, the noctyrians will certainly prosper, but us…?” your voice was steeped in malice and resentment.

your mother let out a soft laugh and suddenly took your hand, squeezing it tightly, drawing attention to you before turning to the kim. “of course she does not mean it. i believe this is merely nerves, yes? this moment has been long anticipated by us. correct?” your mother’s well-manicured nails pinched the skin on the back of your hand, and the nervous smile she wore begged you to read the room.

you sighed and rolled your eyes slightly. “of course… correct.”

the queen of the frozen kingdom was not convinced. she was irritated. very much so. after the afternoon tea, the guards wasted no time informing seonwoo that his mother wished to see him in her designated chambers. the woman paced back and forth, fingers scratching in a nervous tic without pause, black hair falling over one side.

sunoo knocked and entered as soon as she granted permission. “i hope you’ll be brief, i—” he began.

“deal with your future wife. we cannot have a princess and future queen so disagreeable” the mature voice cut him off. “do not ask me how. i have enough troubles already” she continued.

“you’re asking for a miracle” sunoo said with a dry laugh, crossing his arms.

“then let it be one, seonwoo. have it done” the woman was unyielding. “as soon as possible”.

the prince breathed slowly before stomping twice and turning his back to leave the room. he hated being told what to do, even more so when it came to his own mother saying it.

you were fucked.

he left his mother’s chambers with such heavy strides that the clinking of the jewels on his garments sounded like a declaration of war. he was seized by an obsessive fury; it was not a loud outburst, but a state of nerves so tightly drawn that he felt his blood boil. having his authority questioned by the queen, being reduced to a son who “couldn’t handle” his own wife, awakened a predatory instinct within him. he no longer wished to tame you; he wanted to break you until your resistance was replaced by an absolute need for his approval.

he found riki at the end of the corridor, leaning against a pillar while absentmindedly polishing the hilt of his dagger. the guard lifted his eyes, immediately noticing the tension in the prince’s jaw.

“the queen seems to have had an indigestible afternoon tea” the sir remarked, his tone drawn out and provocative.

“that woman…” sunoo hissed, stopping before riki with clenched fists. “she is behaving like a mannerless peasant, testing my patience. she thinks she can dictate the rules of the game and still have my mother summon me to be lectured as if i were some common bastard!?”

the knight sheathed the dagger, straightening his posture. he knew that glint in sunoo’s eyes; it was not mere anger, it was the beginning of the young man’s forbidden desires spilling over. “and what do you intend to do?” he asked. “kiss her hand and apologize in the name of the unification of the realms?”

the dark-haired prince let out a dry laugh, devoid of any humor, and tilted his head to the side. “no. i will give her exactly what she wants: attention. but not the kind one receives at a banquet. find her.”

“are you perfectly sane about what you intend to do?”

“i am more lucid than ever” he stepped forward. “i do not care if she is in the middle of a prayer or a bath. make her understand that the only will that matters here is mine”.

***

you walked through the inner gardens, feeling the weight of the crown more than usual. the anger that had sustained you during the tea with the queens had evaporated, leaving behind a melancholic exhaustion. weary of pretending that your rebellion was vaguely political, when in truth it was a clumsy attempt to smother what you had witnessed that night of luxury between sunoo, riki, and the courtesan.

as a princess, you were meant to be a symbol of purity, a vessel of good manners who should never feel her stomach twist with longing at the thought of the guard’s hands touching the prince, and vice versa; you should not imagine what it would be like if it were you instead of the prostitute. yet stubbornness was the only thing left to you. you would continue to be “impossible” simply because yielding would mean admitting that their filth fascinated you more than your own honor.

twilight was settling when the guard’s figure emerged from the shadows, blocking your path.

“princess” he called. his tone was calm, but laden with an insistence that made your shoulders sag even further.

“not now, sir riki. i need silence” you tried to slip past him, your voice lacking its former strength, nothing more than the tired whisper of someone who could no longer fight the obvious.

“i fear silence will have to wait, your highness. the prince insists on your company”.

“then tell him i am not one of his soldiers to answer summons” you shot back, though the words lacked conviction. you attempted to pass him again, but riki moved with furtive agility, blocking you with his own body.

“princess, please. do not make this more difficult” he asserted, looming over you. “if you come with me now, we can preserve your dignity”.

“i already said i am going nowhere. leave me alone” you murmured, pushing him with the flat of your palm, but it was like pressing against a marble statue.

the nishimura released a heavy sigh, almost mournful. his gaze changed, courtesy giving way to the cold execution of a direct order. without another word, he moved swiftly. before you could protest or even process the motion, his strong arm wrapped around your thighs while the other secured your waist, lifting you from the ground with humiliating ease.

“let me go!” the shock rekindled your defiance. you began pounding his back, legs kicking the air as he adjusted you over his broad shoulder. “this is an outrage! put me down at once!”

“i warned you, your highness” he replied, his voice vibrating against your body as he maintained a steady, relentless pace through the corridors.

riki ignored your protests, holding you with brutal possession. upside down, watching the floor rush past and feeling the heat of his shoulder pressed against your womb, the shame of being carried like a bundle of silk mingled with a treacherous thrill. you were the princess of primaverae, but there, draped over the shoulder of your betrothed’s guard, you were just a woman about to be delivered to the punishment she secretly awaited.

***

as the patterns carved into the floor changed beneath you, you knew exactly where you were being taken. the guest wing, the very place you had been avoiding since that fateful night. two knocks against wood and you were inside the prince’s place. the candles warmed the room more than usual, and the scent of molasses lingering in the air told you that sunoo had been drinking. your body was tossed onto the mattress and cushions, hair disheveled, one sleeve of your gown slipping down your arm after being carried all the way there.

“you cannot do whatever you please, do you realize that?! anyone could report this to the king of primaverae and your guard’s head would be mounted on the spears at the gates by morning!” you snapped, your throat burning. “and you know what else? i really should denounce you both! not just for today, but also-” you halted abruptly, remembering that sir riki could very well have chosen not to mention seeing you spying on them. you swallowed hard.

“also… what, your highness?” it was riki’s turn to speak as he closed the door behind him. he was… more at ease now. “would you care to tell the prince something?” the blond smiled, malicious.

sunoo watched the two of you, nibbling at the rim of his mead goblet before setting it aside and approaching.

“ah yes, is there anything you wish to confess to me, future wife?” he lifted a brow and sat at the edge of the bed, devouring you with his eyes.

“i have n-nothing to say!” you stammered, trying to recover your composure as you tugged the fallen sleeve of your dress back over your shoulder. “i only want you to let me leave. now!”

you attempted to crawl stealthily toward the opposite edge of the mattress, planning to slip down to the floor and bolt for the door. but before your feet could touch the carpet, riki’s massive silhouette blocked your escape. he advanced with deliberate slowness, bracing one knee on the bed, trapping you from one side while sunoo remained seated on the other.

“why such haste, princess?” riki murmured, his voice vibrating so close that the hairs at the nape of your neck stood on end. “we were beginning to enjoy your company. especially this… sudden bravery”.

sunoo leaned toward you, shrinking the distance between your bodies with every second. the gleam in his foxlike eyes was pure sadism; he knew you were lying, and he was savoring every bead of cold sweat sliding down your temples.

“you know, y/n…” he began, reaching out to twine a lock of your hair around his fingers, tugging gently until you were forced to look at him. “sir riki mentioned that the corridors have been quite lively at night. curious people, eyes peering through door cracks… i wonder what someone like you might think if she saw something… improper”, he feigned concern, his gaze drifting over your trembling lips and occasionally falling to your neck, where a prominent vein pulsed.

“i didn’t see anything! i swear!” the denial burst out too loudly, your voice breaking and betraying your guilt. “i was in the library, i… i only-”

“mhmm, and what else?” the guard interrupted, moving closer, narrowing your space until you were pinned between the heat of their bodies. “were you looking for a book, or were you looking for this?”

he slid his hand along your calf, the touch firm at first, then gliding upward to your knee, making your traitorous body arch involuntarily. you were caught between two men who shared an intimacy you had just relived again in your mind. the image of that night - the courtesan, the sweat, the carelessness - melded with the present, stealing your breath. little by little, you softened, desire intoxicating your senses.

you parted your lips to protest, but all that escaped was a muffled moan when the larger man squeezed your thigh.

sunoo’s mouth crashed into yours with intent, leaving you no space to choose the pace. it was rushed, needy, seeking your tongue as his explored your mouth. you grumbled, your furrowed brow gradually relaxing, and the fists pressed to kim’s pale chest slowly ceased their pushing. hungry surrender took shape.

when the noble released your lips, riki claimed them seconds later. his kiss was different, deeper, more domineering, his rough hand gripping your neck firmly to keep your head from falling back. meanwhile, you felt slender, long fingers circle your waist, working to loosen the ties of your corset.

riki shoved you back onto the bed, observing your small body amid the sheets, a pleasant slick of saliva gathered at the corner of your mouth, the sleeve of your gown still stubbornly slipping, your thighs pressed together. a metallic sound rang out as the boy drew the dagger from its leather sheath. your stomach flipped as the blade gleamed under the candlelight, anticipation making your nipples stiffen against the fabric.

sunoo moved with predatory elegance, settling behind you. his firm, warm chest became your only support as he wrapped his arms around you, pinning you against him. you could feel his erection pressing at the base of your spine, a constant reminder that the prince was no longer playing.

“i think we owe you an apology…” he whispered into your ear, his rough, vibrating voice sending shockwaves through you. “since my princess felt so jealous of that courtesan… since she wished she had been treated like a slut from the very beginning, yes?”

you watched your dress being torn from bottom to top, the sharp blade destroying silk and cotton layer by layer. you looked down as the metal passed between your breasts and let out a drawn-out moan when the guard pulled the fabric aside, leaving your naked body exposed. both of them salivated at the sight of your breasts spread and your core gleaming, already so slick.

“look at this… all of primaverae’s purity here, and it’s nothing but an invitation to be used”.

the heir smiled as he watched his companion bend to bite into one of your thighs. your head fell back against his shoulder, and he slid his lower lip along your ear. “this is where primaverae and noctyra unite, princess…”

the blond could not wait any longer; he tossed the dagger aside onto the carpet and plunged between your unsteady legs offered to him. unlike sunoo, riki did not lick slowly nor prepare, he devoured your cunt with voracity, sucking hard at your clit and moving down to your slit, his tongue plunging deep, lapping as much as he could from your tight interior. his nose became wet, eyes closing as though the pleasure he gave you paled in comparison to the pleasure he took in having you in his mouth.

his strong arms circled your hips as he tilted his head to better drive his tongue into your entrance with animal urgency. your body jolted in sunoo’s arms, your moans stood shy and tearful yet.

the prince, for his part, loved to watch, but he did not remain idle. he stretched an arm out, helping to part your delicate lips to expose the sensitive area, massaging it with his thumb in circles, pinching and rubbing it between his fingers. he breathed out a soft laugh when your moan choked off and your eyes rolled back.

“like that, dear… nice and sloppy so you can handle both of us tonight” he murmured.

riki pulled away before you could climax; sunoo had told him how sensitive you were… and he did not wish to end the fun so soon. he looked to the older man for permission, and sunoo smiled, gesturing for him to continue. full lips traveled up your belly, his tongue circling your navel, sliding higher until he captured one of your stiffened nipples.

your mouth fell open, offering no resistance when the prince slipped two fingers inside to gather your own saliva and smear it carelessly over your peaked bud. he whispered every step, sparing none of the filthy words to describe what he was doing. he squeezed and tugged, cruelly, while nishimura suckled as though he meant to draw something out of you.

***

the tension was almost palpable, a banquet of lust where you were the main course. the prince now released your wrists and turned you to face him, drawing your hips up before holding you beneath your thighs, nestled in his lap. his cock brushed against your mound. he kissed your sensitive neck, sometimes letting out a slightly needy sigh as well; he was aching to have you properly.

“hold on tight…” he murmured, feeling your arms coil around his shoulders. “will you open up nicely for me?” he whispered, watching your little face nod faintly, rosy and warm, as if you were caught in the midst of a fever spell. “good slut”.

after pressing the throbbing head into you, he slowly let your weight sink down, making your soft flesh tear open little by little in a painful burn and a brand-new feeling of fullness. your nails dug into his skin and you whimpered. sunoo was no monster either, giving you time to adjust to him… only beginning to move once your walls started squeezing nonstop.

“you’re being so, so good…” a kiss at the corner of your lips and another on your chin. “taking me just right…” he went on, knowing that the more embarrassed you became, the wetter your cunt grew, letting him slide all the way in.

while sunoo filled you slowly, riki watched the scene with dark eyes full of savage desire. he stroked himself with one hand, his pre-cum spilling and wetting the swollen head of his cock. carefully, he joined you, pressing his defined abdomen to your back and grazing the line of his upper teeth along the skin of your spine.

he sucked on his thumb before bringing it to your back entrance, coating your small ring before pushing in the first knuckle, tearing a loud, shameless moan from you. he worked it inside, stretching you for what was to come…

“she’s so small, my prince” he commented. “will she be able to take it? i don’t want to break her so soon” he said, biting his lower lip and looking down as he already moved his finger in and out.

“she can take it… can’t you? you were made for this, hm?” sunoo whispered, already feeling his breathing grow erratic with lust. he cast a look at the other that almost begged him to hurry.

riki smirked softly before pulling his finger free and gripping his hard cock, pressing the head to enter slowly… taking advantage of the way the kim rocked into you and how both of your holes fluttered, sliding his length inside bit by bit. he let out a muffled groan when he was halfway in and you squeezed him. “fuck…”

your awareness had turned to jelly, your lips refused to close, too busy hanging open to let your moans spill out. your body was completely suspended and pressed tight, like a sandwich… you felt your insides stuffed full, and with every synchronized push from both of them you could feel your organs shifting to make room.

the thrusts went faster, the curses low and snarled, you choking back moans as your breasts bounced with your body moving up and down. sometimes you clutched the prince by the nape of his neck, sometimes you let your head fall onto the royal guard’s shoulder, being split and claimed by them at once.

the pressure in your lower belly were unbearable, just as the blonde’s fingers punished your hips to keep you in place and sunoo’s hands were surely already leaving marks on your thighs.

the three of you moaned, you coming apart first, drawing a satisfied smile from the prince as he focused on thrusting hard when your cunt clenched and spilled your juices. it didn’t take long before he pulled out of you with a soft “plop” and spilled himself outside as he panted, throwing his head back and tightening his abdomen. you watched, sniffing softly and biting your lower lip.

riki still held you tight in his arms, keeping your fragile body against his as he fucked you hard now that your muscles had relaxed more. the guttural sounds leaving him were right by your ear before he started muttering in his native tongue, his dick exploding in thick ropes of cum, stuffing your small channel.

when he finally let you go, your body fell onto the rumpled sheets, your cheeks pressed into the soft surface, your fingers trembling and your hole leaking white fluid between your folds. sunoo watched, catching his breath, seated farther back against the cushions, his hair damp.

the guard stroked your ass, noticing how at the slightest touch your abused folds clenched and more of his fluids slipped free from inside you. he sighed with a laugh and dropped down beside the prince.

“i think it was too much for her” riki said, his voice deep as he glanced sideways.

“oh yeah? i think she finally understood what noctyra has to offer…” he stretched out his foot and slid it along your leg, feeling your skin prickle and watching your body squirm faintly, earning a laugh from both men.

you tried to form a reply, one last spark of stubbornness, but all you managed was a shaky sigh as you felt the weight of their gazes on you. it was terrible and you were already unable to stop thinking about what the next time would be like.