tess

your grip tightened on the steering wheel, your vision blurring as the midday traffic faded into a haze of entirely forbidden thoughts. you could almost feel it… you wanted to feel it. large and heavy hands, marred by ink and calloused by time, wrapping around your neck. not to hurt, but to possess. you imagined the exhilarating weight of JUNGKOOK'S hand pressing ever so slightly against your throat while you cried out from the intensity of him. you could see his dark eyes looking down at you, softening just enough to kiss your tears away, before that same hand slid down your chest.

in the heat of your own mind, his fingers did agonizing wonders to your body, tracing paths of fire until they reached the exact spot that made you arch your back. the muscular mass of a forty-nine-year-old man pinning you flat, capturing your wrists so that moving or getting up wasn't even a choice. his lips would follow his hands, biting, licking, and painting your skin in violent, but beautiful shades of red, purple, and blue.

“(name),” he would growl, his voice breathy and raspy against your ear. “(name)… (name)…”

jungkook would repeat your name like a mantra, a man utterly undone, unable to get over the fact that he had such a pretty and greedy little thing beneath him–

“(name)!”

the sharp bark of your name shattered the fantasy like glass. you blinked hard, the blinding sun reflecting off the asphalt snapping you violently back to reality. the phantom weight on your chest vanished, replaced by the tight pull of your seatbelt.

“(name), (name), hellooo,” yunjin sighed from the passenger seat, snapping her fingers next to your face.

“huh… yeah?” you stammered, your heart beating so fast, though not for the reason your friends thought.

“sweets, you missed the exit,” yunjin said, pointing out the window at the roundabout you had just bypassed.

from the backseat, giselle leaned forward between the two headrests, a knowing smirk on her face. “yeah, you seemed so dazed. your eyes were totally glazed over. who exactly were you thinking about, hm?”

a heavy knot of guilt coiled tightly in your stomach. you felt the heat rushing up your neck, praying they would mistake it for standard pre-wedding jitters. you obviously couldn't say the name that was actually burning the back of your throat. you couldn't tell them you were craving the father of the groom.

“jungmin,” you lied, forcing a shy smile onto your face.

“awww!”

their reactions were instant and sweet, their expressions melting into lovey-dovey, happy grins. it was exactly the reaction you wanted, yet it made the secret guilt burn even hotter. they thought it was beautiful — a bride-to-be so deeply in love that she couldn't even navigate a roundabout one week before her wedding. forcing yourself to smile along, checking your mirrors to loop back around the exit, all while the sensation of what jungkook’s hands could feel lingered like a brand on your skin.

you also weren’t supposed to spend your last night as an engaged woman like that. sitting on the edge of the mattress, the soft paper of your wedding vows crinkling beneath your fingers, you couldn’t see anyone else.

the mini-notes were scattered along the duvet like your feelings and thoughts, a messy blueprint of a promise you were supposed to make tomorrow. you knew the words by heart, you’d practiced them a million times. but focusing had become an impossible chore ever since yesterday night, the exact moment your parents-in-law arrived.

they had greeted you with so much warmth. there were sweet hugs and kisses on your cheeks, a genuine celebration of you joining the family. but, you weren’t crazy, right? when jungkook’s hand had settled against the small of your back, his palm had lingered just for a second too long. it definitely hadn't felt like a family-friendly touch, and the ghost of his touch had been burning through your skin ever since.

you couldn't stop thinking about him. you wished you could, but he was just so dreamy. even at forty-nine, just one year away from his fiftieth anniversary, he looked completely lethal. age hadn't touched him; it had only made him more attractive. his right sleeve was entirely covered in dark ink, and the subtle glint of his lip and eyebrow piercings contrasted beautifully against the stoic maturity of his face. his body, his presence, his everything was to die for.

and that was the worst part, because his wife was an absolute angel. your mother-in-law was the sweetest, kindest woman you knew. you loved her to death, as you still remembered how she’d bickered fiercely with your own mother at the bridal shop months ago, firmly stating, "let the bride pick her own dress, it’s her special day!"

minju was beautiful inside and out, and you hated yourself for the ugly envy that curled in your chest because of it. you envied her because she was bonded to jungkook until death do them part. you envied her because she was the one who got to receive his kisses, his fierce devotion, his love, and his finesse.

resting your head in your arms, you stared at the scattered notes. you couldn't really believe how wrong this was... but it felt so right, for all the shameless reasons. with a frustrated whine, you slumped back, your spine sinking into the cushions and your knees pulling up to your chest, as you let out a trembling breath.

jungmin, you thought desperately, closing your eyes. think about jungmin. he was supposed to soothe these awful thoughts away. he was your one and only, the love of your life, the sun to your moon, the peanut butter to your jelly, the yin to your yang.

you bit your lip hard, trying to conjure his face at the altar, but the image warped against your will. instead of your husband-to-be, you saw his father. you pictured jungkook standing there, looking breathlessly handsome and stoic in his tailored suit. you imagined his eyes softening, melting with a quiet hunger as he watched you walk down the aisle in the prettiest dress, the veil dragging behind you as you clutched your bouquet, waiting for the moment you’d tie the knot with a kiss.

a kiss... how would his lips feel on yours? would they be soft at first, testing your boundaries, before turning rough, messy, and demanding at the end? would he cup your face with those big hands, or would they stay firmly at your waist to pick you up and spin you into the air?

knock, knock.

the sudden sound made you snap your head toward the door. you shook your head aggressively, trying to clear the haze from your brain. you checked the time, and it was so late. was it yunjin or giselle? maybe they couldn't sleep from the excitement, wanting one last late-night gossip session before you became a married woman.

"i'm coming!" you called out, smoothing down your clothes as you stood up and padded across the floor. swinging the door open with a small smile, but the words died in your throat. of all the people you expected to see standing in the dimly lit hallway, it was him.

jungkook stood there, his massive frame filling the doorway, looking entirely too good in the shadows, wearing a simple white shirt, a pair of dark jeans, and a silver chain around his neck. was he already outside? the smell of cigarettes mixed with his perfume.

"sweetheart, i'm sorry for the trouble this late at night," his voice was sleepy and vibrated straight to your core. "but we wanted you to have this." he cleared his throat as he extended his hand. between his tattooed fingers, he held a small and elegant indigo box. "it's a tradition in the family for generations, for the father-in-law to give this to the bride-to-be… so it might be your lucky charm."

you grabbed the box, a little confused, but as you took it from his grasp, your fingers brushed against his. the brief contact made you tense up a little bit.

"i-i... what is this exactly?" you stammered, hating how breathless you sounded.

jungkook’s lips twitched into a faint smile. "open it, and you will see."

with trembling fingers, you lifted the lid of the indigo box. resting against the plush velvet was a necklace made of the finest, most radiant diamonds you had ever seen. it caught the dim light of your room, sparkling so intensely it almost hurt to look at. you couldn't stop staring, a sudden wave of inadequacy washing over you. this was too precious. you didn't feel like you deserved to hold it, let alone wear it on your wedding day.

"here," jungkook murmured, his deep voice cutting through your panic as he stepped past the threshold, closing the bedroom door quietly behind him. "let me help you put it on."

walking over to the large mirror in the corner of the room like a woman in a trance, as he followed, stepping up right behind you. starring at his reflection, utterly captivated by the contrast between your small body and his massive one looming over you.

"can you lift your hair for me?" he asked softly, taking the heavy diamond piece from the box.

you did exactly what you were told, reaching up with both hands to gather your hair at the crown of your head, exposing the bareness of your neck. jungkook leaned in, his warmth enveloping you. his large hands reached around from the front, the cool metal of the diamonds brushing against your collarbones before he secured the clasp at the back of your neck. his knuckles grazed your skin, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from whimpering. you looked like a real princess in the mirror, and his words only confirmed it.

"it fits you so beautifully," he whispered, his eyes meeting yours in the glass. "as if it were made for you."

but his hands didn't move away. his heavy palms simply slid down, resting firmly against the curve of your shoulders, the heat of his skin bleeding through the shirt that you used as pyjamas.

"but are you sure i can wear it?" you asked, your voice shaking as you touched the shiny stones, "i mean, it's been in the family for generations. it's just... i-i don't know if..."

jungkook hummed against the shell of your ear, his thumbs brushing lightly over your collarbones before he finally pulled back. the sudden loss of his warmth made you ache. he turned and walked over to the edge of the bed, mindlessly sitting down right on top of the duvet, completely unaware that he was crushing your scattered wedding vows beneath him.

he furrowed his brows in confusion as he felt the paper, reaching down to grab one of the messy index cards. he read it quietly to himself first, his lips moving silently as a soft smile broke across his face.

"didn't know jungmin would marry such a poetic and loving soul like yours," he murmured, his gaze shifting up to track the flush spreading across your cheeks. he reached down and picked up another note, chuckling as he read this part out loud. "and i knew you were the one when you were five and i was four, as you stubbornly saved a place for me in the sand playground and didn't let anyone, especially other girls, go in... oh, i remember that, heh. he was like some dragon trying to protect his princess high in the tower."

you stood by the mirror, a nervous sweat breaking out, trying your absolute best to hide the greedy thoughts consuming you, but you were dealing with a grown man. jungkook had seen the way you had been looking at him all this time, so this wasn’t something new. to untrained eyes, your lingering glances were nothing, just a sweet, soon-to-be daughter-in-law admiring her new family. but to his experienced and keen eyes? yeah, you had tried your best, dear, but you hadn't fooled him for a second.

alas, who was he to blame you, when he was the same? he hadn't forgotten the family summer vacation two years ago. the sight of you walking down the beach in that tiny black bikini. your sweet, sun-kissed body had done dangerous things to both his mind and his body, leaving him starving like a stray animal in the dark. he loved sweet and innocent things, but much to his predatory luck, you were not that innocent.

perhaps you didn't remember that one night, a year ago, when you and jungmin had come home totally wasted after a friend’s birthday party. your fiancé had been knocked out cold, unable to handle his alcohol anywhere near as well as his father. jungmin was snoring in the passenger seat, but you, in your heavily intoxicated state, had been terrifyingly honest.

so clingy, whimpering and whining as jungkook carried you into the house. you had wrapped your arms tightly around his thick, tatted bicep, burying your face in it, ignoring the fact that your passed-out boyfriend was still in the car. your father-in-law remembered every single word you whispered against his skin that night. you had looked up at him with glazed eyes, tugging on the hem of his shirt, and muttered something scandalous.

“jungmin is so soft,” the drunken lust had taken over as you rubbed your hips against his thigh. “he doesn't know how to handle me, and– and i want a real man. i want someone big enough to break me in half. i want you to do it.”

it was a crazy thing to say to the father of the groom, but alcohol always brought the hidden filth to the surface. jungkook had his blood turning to molten lava, forcing himself to put you to bed before going back for his son.

now, sitting on your bed in the hotel room, one day before the wedding, he tossed the vow cards aside.

"you write very sweet things about jungmin, sweetheart," he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes dropping to the diamonds glittering on your chest. "but i think we both know you don't actually want my boy tomorrow, do you?"

jungkook slowly rose from the edge of the bed, his towering frame throwing a heavy shadow right over you. the magnetic pull of him had you frozen in one place as he closed the distance between you until you were face to face, and it made your knees weak. he didn't hesitate when his tattooed hand reached up, his thumb catching your chin, tilting your head up to force your gaze to meet his, cornering you physically and mentally, turning your forbidden daydreams into a suffocating reality.

"you love my son," jungkook murmured, his eyes darkening further as he read the raw panic and desire flooding your face. "but you want me. right, sweetheart?"

you were at a complete loss for words, your throat dry like a desert, because he was damn right. every single insolent thought you’d harbored was laid bare like cards on a poker table. your hands trembled at your sides, the guilt tearing at you, yet the temptation was entirely too loud to ignore. jungkook’s thumb slid up, caressing your lower lip, pressing down slightly against the soft seam. you looked up at him with glossy eyes, as you stared at the man you had been sinning over for years. tears of frustration and lust threatened to spill; unable to stop yourself, you bit his finger evero so lightly.

"am i wrong..." the words sounded so terribly broken from your lips, "am i wrong for falling in love with you?"

the fragile string of his control finally snapped, because keeping his hands to himself was no longer an option. leaning down, his mouth crashing onto yours in a demanding kiss. he cupped your face first, his thumbs wiping away the stray tear on your cheek as his tongue swept into your mouth, ravaging your senses. you let out a muffled whimper, your hands flying up to grip the fabric of his shirt, lost in the taste of him.

before you could even process the heat of his lips, his hands slid down from your face over your shoulders and gripped the underside of your thighs, lifting you off your feet effortlessly. your instinct kicked in, your legs immediately wrapping tightly around his waist.

your mouths continued their fiery dance, a messy clash of teeth and tongues. you whined into the kiss, gasping for air as he walked you backward, the world spinning so fast you couldn't tell up from down. the next thing you knew, the soft duvet rushed up to meet you. jungkook hovered over you while you were flat on your back on the bed. his chest rose and fell heavily as he finally pulled back from the kiss. a thin strand of saliva connected your lips before breaking in the dark room.

both of you were breathless, panting in the quiet space, eyes locked in a silent understanding. bringing your trembling hands up to rest above your chest, feeling the frantic way your heart was beating. it was about to explode like fireworks — a beautiful and catastrophic arson that would burn your entire life to the ground by morning, and you didn't even care.

he didn't take another step without making sure he had every single piece of you. his knuckles brushed the heated skin of your jaw, his voice dropping into something sinister, somehow strangely kind.

"can i take this off you, sweetheart?"

you couldn't even speak; you just nodded, your fingers bunching into the duvet beneath you. jungkook let out a pleased hum, his hands sliding down to the hem of your shirt. he pulled it up and over your head in one motion, and you didn't even shy away. there was no room for modesty anymore, not when you were already this close.

much to his absolute delight, you didn't have anything underneath. you lay bare before him, wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties.

a galnce at the curve of your waist, the flush on your chest, the rapid rise and fall of your breathing. "so beautiful," he rasped, leaning down to press a hot kiss right over your racing heart. "so fucking ready for me, aren't you?"

he didn't give you time to answer before his hand slid down, his large palm cupping you right through the thin lace. you gasped, arching your back instantly as he applied pressure, his thumb rubbing over the damp fabric. you were already soaking, undone by the mere presence of him in your bed.

"look at you," he whispered against your neck, his lips nipping at the sensitive skin right below your ear. "you've been waiting for this, haven't you?"

the filth pouring from his mouth made you whimpered, your fingers burying into his hair as he hooked two fingers under the edge of the lace, pulling the fabric aside. when his fingers finally made direct contact, you nearly lost your mind. he slid one long finger inside you, testing the waters, groaning a little as your tight walls immediately clamped around him.

"god, you're so tight," his thumb working your clit while his finger pushed deeper, stretching you open. "my son doesn't know how to handle a girl like you, does he? he doesn't know how filthy you really are."

you whimpered loudly, tossing your head back into the cushions as he added a second finger, pumping them inside you in a slow rhythm. you had wanted to feel him for so long, had spent months drowning in the fantasy of his touch, and the brutal reality of him driving into you, paired with the shameless words growled against your skin, had you dripping helplessly beneath.

he pushed you entirely over the edge, and a loud moan tore from your throat. "jungkook... ah, jungkook, please–"

"shh," he cut you off instantly, his hand flying up from your chest to slap firmly over your mouth, muffling your desperate cries into the palm of his hand. "keep your fucking mouth shut, sweetheart. my son is asleep right above us, and you're already screaming his father’s name like a little whore. replace my hand with yours. keep them over your mouth. you only take them off when you need a breath, understand?"

nodding frantically, your eyes glossy and wide as you pressed your own hands tightly over your lips. the humiliation of it, paired with the thrill of his dominance, made you soak through his fingers. then he pulled away, and you heard the metallic click of his belt unbuckling; the sound made you ache to cosmic levels, your thighs trembling against his hips as the dark reality of what was about to happen settled in.

jungkook paused, his fingers hooking into the waistband of his trousers. "you got condoms?"

you shook your head quickly against the mattress, your hands still glued to your mouth.

jungkook let out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes as an amused grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "you young people these days don't like to play it safe, do you?"

he didn't let it stall him. reaching down, his fingers hooked into the edge of the black lace panties he’d previously pushed aside. he dragged them down your legs and threw them carelessly somewhere onto the floor. wrapped in nothing but shadows and the glittering diamonds around your neck, you watched him strip his shirt off over his head. fuckin’ hell, his body. your eyes tracked the massive bulge of his biceps, the tight definition of his abs, and the heavy ink trailing down his right arm. he was going to be the death of you.

jungkook crawled back over you, pinning you into the mattress, settling between your legs, his tattooed fingers guiding the thick tip of his cock right against your soaked entrance. he didn't push in yet; he just rubbed himself against you, giving you an excruciating skin-to-skin contact that had your hips blindly lifting off the bed, begging for the insertion.

"hmm," jungkook murmured, watching your desperate movements with satisfaction. "the little bunny is a little greedy, no? so impatient to be ruined."

he gripped your hips, his thumbs bruising your skin as he slowly started to sink inside you.

the moment he breached you, your eyes rolled back. it was unbelievable. he was bigger, thicker, and far more girthy than jungmin — jungkook really hadn't left a single thing for his son when it came to genes. he wasn't even halfway in, and you already felt entirely maxed out, your tight walls stretching and burning as they desperately tried to adjust to the size of him.

the overwhelming fullness was too much to bear. yanking your hands away from your mouth just to catch a ragged breath, when a broken moan escaped past your lips. "god, you're too big... ah!"

"i told you to keep your hands over your mouth, didn't i?" he paused, letting you stretch around him, his chest heaving above yours. "look at you, taking it all so well. a good little girl for my son, but a filthy little piece of meat for me."

jungkook’s grip on your hips tightened until it bruised you, his thumbs digging into your flesh like an imprint. he began to move, establishing a slow tempo meant to get you used to him. each agonizingly deep stroke was calculated, filling you until you were entirely consumed by him. as he drove into you, the taboo illusions you’d harbored for so long suddenly felt terrifyingly real. underneath the crushing weight of his muscular body, the crazy dream of running away with him to some isolated island, leaving the wedding, the family, and the world behind, felt entirely possible.

starved for more, you lifted your thighs and wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper. that was his cue. a low growl tore from his lips as he took full control, abandoning any remaining gentleness. holding your hips in a vice grip, he began to drive himself in with a rough and relentless force. he was massive, a completely different breed of excellent. jungmin was wonderful, sweet, and always satisfied you, but jungkook was an experienced man who knew exactly how to dominate every inch of your body.

the sensation was blinding, your head tossing wildly against the pillows. jungkook's mouth traced desperate kisses along your skin. he wanted to mark you so badly, to leave dark bruises all over your throat, but he knew better. hence, he channeled that violent possession into biting kisses along your jawline, the curve of your shoulder, and down to your chest, avoiding anywhere the wedding veil wouldn't cover tomorrow.

"take your hands away," he rasped against your ear, his breath hot and ragged as he pinned your wrists to the mattress. "keep quiet, sweetheart. let me do it."

your lips parted to cry out loud, but jungkook instantly caught it. he swallowed your moans and desperate whines with a single kiss. it lasted entirely too long, stealing the very breath from your lungs.

in the heat of the clash, the cool metal of his lip piercing grazed against your mouth, a jarring reminder of exactly who was ruining you. your hips buckled automatically, lifting off the bed in a desperate spasm as you squeezed the thick length of him, locking him inside you while the room spun like a carousel.

when he finally pulled back from the kiss, your hands remained pinned by your head. you didn't want to hide it anymore. you wanted him to hear the sounds coming out of you; you wanted him to know exactly how good he made you feel, how he had broken you down.

"please..." your voice a pleading thread as your hips blindly chased his. "jungkook, please... more, please..."

that repeated begging did something to him. hearing his own name gasped out by the girl who was supposed to marry his son tomorrow, seeing you look so young, so utterly beautiful, and so filthy beneath him, made him want to rip the ring right out of jungmin's hands and steal the bride away for himself.

"you want more, baby?" he laughed mockingly, not knowing his future daughter-in-law was such a little freak. he hadn't known his son was apparently this bad in bed to let his own father step in and do the work for him. "then i'm going to give you more, seeing how this is your first time getting fucked properly. i'm so sorry about jungmin... if i knew he wasn't doing his job right, i would have stepped in long ago."

the utter depravity of his words sent a fresh wave of heat straight to your already aroused and senstive system. before you could even cry out, jungkook brought one hand up, slapping it firmly over your mouth again to muffle your hitching gasps, while his other hand clamped onto your hip to keep you perfectly aligned. then, he changed his pace to something rather brutal.

he was so rough, slamming against you with a strenght that rattled your bones, yet there was a terrifying sweetness to how he consumed you. every unforgiving thrust was accompanied by a flood of praises growled against your ear.

"look at you taking it all," he muttered, his hot breath fanning over your burning skin. "my pretty girl to ruin. my sweet little bunny. you belong right here, taking every inch of me, yeah?"

your vision blurred with tears as the intensity began to form a knot deep in your lower abdomen. your inner walls started to tremble, clamping around him in rhythmic spasms that gave away exactly how close you were to the edge. jungkook felt it instantly. the change in your body only made him harder, as he adjusted his angle, driving in deeper than before. he wasn't just hitting your g-spot anymore: it felt like he was reaching straight into your soul, rewriting everything you thought you knew about pleasure, and dragging you completely over the precipice.

the unbearable pressure snapped. you couldn't control it… it was that damn good. an overwhelming wave crashed through your entire body as you squirted against him, your gummy walls convulsing in an endless grip that dragged jungkook to reach his own climax.

abandoning his pace, he burried his cock deeply inside you as he came. his release sent pulses deep into your core, filling you to the brim until the excess began to spill out, making an undeniable mess all over the sheets. you shuddered beneath him, as the overlapping orgasms left you so spent. for a moment, jungkook just stayed there, his sweaty chest heaving against yours as both of your heartbeats raced in sync.

when he finally pulled out, you whined at the sudden loss of his warmth. he rolled onto his back beside you, pulling you straight against his side. there was no time for the grand aftercare, not with the clock ticking toward sunrise. you snuggled deeply into his broad chest, your trembling fingers aimlessly tracing shapes on his collarbone as your breathing slowly leveled out. jungkook’s hand idly smoothed down your tangled hair before his fingers tightened slightly in the strands.

"you're on the pill, right?" he asked softly, and you nodded weakly against him, too drained to speak, letting out a soft hum of affirmation. he let out a quiet breath, though his jaw remained tight. he looked down at you, eyes tracking the rise and fall of your chest. "so, when were you returning from the maldives?"

"in two weeks," you whispered, the reminder of the honeymoon suddenly feeling like a bucket of ice water against your heated skin. jungkook clicked his tongue, a grimace of annoyance crossing his features. 

"tsk. damn it."

he hated it. he hated that he had to hand you back to his son tomorrow, even if it was just for show. but the underlying promise in his voice made it clear that there was no escaping him.

knowing time was running out, he reluctantly shifted out of the bed. he gave you a quick cleanup with a stray towel, his hands surprisingly gentle as he helped you slide your shirt back over your head and pulled your black lace panties back up your legs, thinking about the mess you’d have to somehow clean or hide from the hotel staff tomorrow morning.

you watched him silently as he dressed, fastening his belt with that same metallic click that had undone you an hour ago. once his clothes were perfectly back in place, looking every bit the dignified father-of-the-groom again, he walked back over to the edge of the mattress.

jungkook leaned down, cupping your jaw one last time, tilting your face up. he pressed a deep, but sweet kiss to your lips. it was the last time for tonight, but you both knew it wouldn't be the last for the future. as your father-in-law quietly slipped out of your room, softly closing the door behind him, he left you with a secret he hadn't dared to voice aloud.

that diamond necklace you seemed to adore… well, it wasn't a family tradition. there was no passing down of heirlooms from father-in-law to bride. it was a lie, fabricated so beautifully to be an expensive excuse just to get into your room and see you alone.

down the hall, minju was sound asleep, entirely oblivious to the arson that had just taken place a few doors down. when jungkook had left their room earlier, he had quietly told her he was going out to take photos of the city at night. technically, it wasn't a lie; he had his camera full of photos by the places nearby the hotel and he did plan on stepping outside to snap a few mindless shots of the neon-lit streets just to cover his tracks. but it was nowhere near the full truth.

an hour later, after walking around again in the city to clear his head with the lingering scent of your skin still clinging to his collar, jungkook finally returned to his own room. slipping out of his clothes and sliding under the covers, the cool sheets instantly warming as he settled back into bed. minju stirred slightly, shifting closer to him, unconsciously seeking the warmth she had missed while he was gone. she wrapped an arm around his waist, sighing softly in her sleep.

jungkook stared up at the dark ceiling, his chest rising and falling slowly, as his wife rested against him. his skin was still buzzing, his mind completely trapped in the memory of your tight walls, your ruined whimpers, and the way you looked with his diamonds resting against your collarbones. as he closed his eyes and let minju cuddle close, a dirty root settled deep in his mind. he thought about how nice it would be if the woman clinging to him in the dark wasn't his wife at all.

he thought about how nice it would be if it were you.

the venue was bathed in an ethereal glow as you stood at the altar, the heavy train of your white dress pooling around your heels. the ceremony was breathtaking, everything you and jungmin had dreamed of for the past six years. and there, resting against your collarbones, catching the bright light of the altar candles, was the diamond necklace. it glittered like a web of beautiful and expensive sins, a secret brand against your throat that no one else understood.

on paper, and by the heavy gold band waiting to be slid onto your finger, you were about to become jungmin’s. but every nerve in your body knew the absolute truth: you already belonged to the man standing in the very front row.

the priest’s voice echoed through the high stone arches, grounded and solemn.

"jeon jungmin, do you take (last name) (name) as your wife?"

jungmin didn't even hesitate. his eyes were shining, filled with a pure devotion that made your heart ache with a bittersweet pang. "i do," he said, his voice ringing out clear and steady.

"and (last name) (name), do you take jeon jungmin as your husband?"

before saying the two words that would bind you and your husband together for a lifetime, you glanced at the audience with a gentle smile, seeing your family and friends smiling right back at you. your mother was already weeping with joy, dabbing at her eyes while your father held her in a supportive embrace. minju had both hands covering her mouth and part of her nose, holding back her tears for the emotional moment when the true love's kiss would finally happen.

and then, your eyes met his.

jungkook was sitting right beside her. in his tailored black suit, he looked devastatingly handsome, a stoic force among the crowd. his eyes were locked onto you, knowing and even challenging. as your gazes clashed, he gave a slight nod and the faintest shadow of a smirk, as he crossed his thick arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. the contrast was dizzying. jungmin was the man you were marrying, but jungkook was the one you truly wanted to spend your life with.

taking a deep breath, you turned your focus back to jungmin. your handsome prince. the man you loved so much that you had willingly ruined yourself with his father just hours before. you looked up at him with eyes so sincere and loving, because what you felt for jungmin was entirely real… it just coexisted with the unholy desires you harbored for the older jeon.

"i do," you whispered, the vow sealing your fate.

"by the power vested in me, i now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest smiled, gesturing between the two of you. "you may now kiss the bride."

jungmin’s face broke into the most beautiful, radiant smile you had ever seen. he reached out, his hands trembling slightly with pure excitement as he gently lifted your veil, throwing it back over your head. he cupped your cheeks with a tenderness that brought a sting of tears to your eyes. 

"i love you so much, (name)," jungmin whispered, meant for your ears only. "i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you. you're my everything."

"i love you too," you breathed against his lips, and then he closed the distance.

the kiss was romantic, sweet, and filled with the promise of a bright and stable future. jungmin held you like you were the most precious thing in his universe, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you fully against him while the entire venue erupted into loud and joyful applause and cheers. 

you kissed him back with everything you had, but as you melted into your husband's embrace, you smiled beautifully for the flashing cameras, wrapping your arm through jungmin’s as you prepared to walk down the aisle together. but as you took your first steps forward, your gaze drifted right back to the front row.

the father of the groom was standing now, clapping slowly along with the rest of the guests. his eyes never left yours, as jungmin’s arm stayed securely wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to his side as he turned to face the roaring crowd, his hand catching yours and raising it high in victory. the bells began to chime, a joyful declaration that you were officially mrs. jeon.

jungkook was happy. he really was, because he knew the truth. he knew that behind the white lace and the beautiful vows, the normal life you had built with jungmin was gone forever. being normal wasn’t normal anymore; in this crazy world, not being crazy was crazy. and jungkook was completely, utterly crazy over you.

he already knew what the future held. he knew he would be expecting a call from you very soon, and not just a polite request to help move the last of the heavy boxes into your new home, but a whisper over the phone, letting him know exactly when his son wouldn't be there so he could have you all to himself.

"bless the newlyweds," jungkook's voice carried over the chatter as he turned to pull minju into a supportive side-hug. then joined your parents, who were glowing with happiness, blending seamlessly into the familial bliss. but even as he smiled and nodded along to your mother's overjoyed rambling, his mind was already calculating the timeline of the evening ahead.

his gaze tracked you one last time, the heavy diamonds around your neck catching the light with every step you took away from him, watching the elegant drag of your veil, as he wondered… would you have five minutes to spare him when the reception dinner starts?

just five minutes away from the crowd to congratulate the bride in person in some locked and shadowed room of the venue. just to drop to his knees in the dark, tearing the lace down to lift your heavy gown over your waist. instead of your hands pinned above your head like last night, he wanted your bare legs thrown over his broad shoulders, holding you wide open while he buried his face between your thighs. he wanted to eat you out until you were dripping all over his tongue, swallowing your muffled and ruined screams while your husband looked for you in the crowded hall outside.

after all, jungkook wasn't supposed to fall in love with his son's wife.

© 97DOLLZ do not copy, repost or modify my work.

now, you were left in nothing but your matching lace bra and panties. it was pale pink and heeseung's favorite set.

"mmm, you wore this for me, doll?" you nod, proud that he appreciated it. "cute."

he walked up to you and circled you slowly, eyeing you from head to toe at every angle. he stopped in front of you, hand wrapping around your waist and settling on the soft curve of your ass. the obvious tent in his slacks pressed against your bare thigh.

"you're perfect. this is exactly what i needed right now. my pretty girl." with that, you feel two taps on your shoulder, a silent command. like you'd done countless times before, you sunk to your knees in front of him.

he bit his lip, running his hands through your hair while he watched you unzip his trousers. "this fucking idiot in marketing can't do his job right," he maunders, "i don't know who hired him to be the head of the department." a hiss interrupts his rant when you free his dick from the constrains of fabric.

you stare up at him through your batting lashes, silently urging him to continue, even as you gave kitten licks to the sensitive and leaking tip. heeseung shudders.

"his campaign idea flopped with our clients," he grips your hair tighter, holding it up in a makeshift ponytail, "and he's skipped work twice just this week." you nod before taking him deeper into your mouth.

a groan slips from his lips at that. "shit.." he adjusts his grip on your head before starting to thrust in and out of your mouth. your throat closes around him, causing his head to loll back in pleasure. drool drips down the corners of your mouth and your fingers come up to fondle with his balls.

"hah–" he pants. in a flash, he disconnects himself from your mouth, grabbing you by the waist and yanking you onto the bed. your back hit the soft sheets, bra askew just enough to reveal your nipple. he kneels between your spread legs, his cock – flushed and sticky with a combination of your saliva and his precum – brushes against your inner thigh.

once he catches glimpse of the sliver of skin that was no longer hidden behind your bra? he choked on his breath and immediately leaned down to connect his lips to the stiff peak. his tongue worked religiously, alternating between circling the bud with his wet muscle, sucking, or grazing his teeth against it.

your toes curl, jaw slack but devoid of any sweet sounds. you had grown to learn that when heeseung is stressed, he enjoyed the quiet. basically, you weren't allowed to moan or whine or speak, otherwise he wouldn't let you finish. it was maddening. maddening when all you could hear was him panting and groaning in your ear, telling you how amazing you feel and what a good girl you are for keeping quiet.

he hummed in satisfaction against your breast, patting your thigh twice as a silent praise, before switching and latching onto your other nipple. "yn, baby, can you imagine these beautiful tits full of milk, hm?" he says, voice muffled since he his face was practically buried in your chest, but you could feel the smirk on his face. "imagine you in some tight little shirt and they're leaking. fuck, i'm hard just at the thought. gonna make it come true. all fours for me, pretty."

he presses a final kiss right in between your breasts and sits up. you follow, holding yourself up with your arms, knees digging into the mattress. his fingers trace the lace lining of your bottoms, his palm rough against your smooth skin.

"take em off." your panties slide off with ease. you didn't even bother taking them off all the way, so they stayed hooked on one of your ankles. suddenly, a stinging smack lands square on your right asscheek. fighting the urge to whimper to stay loyal to his rules, your body's compromise is to turn your arms to jelly. your elbows buckle, sending you face first into the duvet.

heeseung, your evil boyfriend, laughs first and then helps you up. "ohhh, you're into that spanking stuff? noted." the grin on his lips was priceless. "should get a belt next time," he teases under his breath.

he presses your back down, forcing it into a deeper curve, and lines up against your entrance. you felt him – warm and heavy – just barely where you desperately needed him to be. without warning (because when did heeseung ever do those?), he slides in with a single thrust, bottoming out in a second. you couldn't help it this time, you let out a choked sound. his eyebrow quirks up fast.

"huh? what was that?" you freeze. shit. this is the part where the thought of anything but his own pleasure flys out his mind. "funny. i thought i heard something. might as well be begging to be used."

his hand comes down hard on you again, the slap loud enough to bounce off the walls. "be quiet. it's the one thing i ask of you," he huffs. "don't you see what i deal with everyday? my idiot employees? god, if i got to choose my life, i'd spend all day every day giving you my children. filling you up and making sure it takes. but i don't get do to that all day. so – fuck, yn – please cooperate here. take this shit." he accentuates his words with a sharp snap of his hips forward.

"please, yn-" he gasps when you clench particularly hard around him. he pulls out slowly, every ridge and vein grazing your gummy walls before crashing back into you with incredible force. each thrust nudged your cervix. the pain was dizzying in the best way possible.

you're sure the crease between your eyebrows will become permanent from how hard they're knit together. your eyes haven't opened this entire time, too focused on his filthy words and the pleasure that's building up in your lower belly.

"gonna cum, baby? go ahead." you almost moan in relief. at least he's letting you climax. you reeeeally should've known there was a catch. your sopping pussy locks up around him, squeezing him in impossibly. instead of stopping, he kept going, delaying his own release for the sake of the show. you couldn't do this anymore. "fuck- heeseung!" you cry, the tears already brimming in your eyes.

he scoffed in disbelief. "you're getting way too comfortable." landing another smack on your cheek, still pounding you from behind, except now his hands slithers over to your front, drawing tight figures on your swollen clit. your moan could've woken up the whole house. he fights his smile by biting his lip and pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "you can give me one more."

his dick nudged your cervix exactly one more time before you squirted hard, liquid gushing out onto both your thighs. he lets a final whimper slip as he empties his thick load into you, body shuddering and cock softening up inside you. even then, he refused to pull out for a solid minute.

"this has to take. you have to get pregnant," he mutters, more to himself than you.

eventually, he parts from you. you turn onto your back to face him. there's a surprisingly soft smile on his lips as he leans down to kiss you properly – a stark contrast to the roughness from seconds ago. when he pulls away, he sees his seed trickling out of you. his tongue clicks in annoyance and you notice his gaze darken.

"all wasted," he sighs. "now we need to go again."

an: heeseung x spanking x ME 🤤🤤🤤🤤 bye i need him bad

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎© piercedjake july 2026 ‎‎ ⋆˙⟡

You had always loved ribbons. They were the one thing you were completely obsessed with. Ribbons on your hair, on your wrist, on your dresses, and sometimes when you dress up like a doll for Sunghoon, you like wearing ribbons on your neck too.

You have had that obsession since you were little. Finding them incredibly fascinating. In your eyes, ribbons could be transformed into anything you like. Ties, bows, laces, ropes, and so many more things.

So when you started dating Sunghoon, it was no secret that you loved ribbons. Your entire apartment was decorated with them. Sunghoon loved them of course. Finding them to be uniquely you. And after the both of you got married a year ago, his house was now transformed and decorated with ribbons everywhere.

What you loved the most about ribbons was how you could tie them up on Sunghoon's biceps. It had been a little fantasy of yours that came to light a few months after you both had started dating. When you shyly asked him if he would let you tie ribbons on his bicep.

Sunghoon was delighted with the idea, having no problem with it. Since that day, it had become a little ritual between the two of you. But at times, your mind wandered to images of how his cock would look like with a soft pink ribbon.

About how it would feel when you would deepthroat him. Your nose rubbing against your own ribbon which you tied on him. Your ribbon. Your mark. “Hoon?” You slowly open the door to his study, peeking your head inside to look at him.

He was working on his laptop, eyebrows frowned with focus. He was wearing a simple black tee with gray pants, your favourite combination on him. “Hmm?” He didn't look up from the screen, fingers flying on the keyboard as he replied to you.

“Can you.. take a rest for a while?” You slowly walked in, shutting the door behind you gently to not disturb the peace of the room. “Doll, I have to finish this ‘mkay?” He gave you a quick smile, his eyes darting to the small link ribbon bows on your hair. “You look pretty.”

The compliment bloomed warmth inside you but the husk in his voice shot pleasure straight to your core. You slightly squirm on the spot before walking beside his desk, placing your hand on top of his on the keyboard to stop him from typing.

“Please hoon? I miss you..” You pout, your fingers curling in his. You knew he could never deny when you plead with him, always giving into your cuteness. “I want to tie a ribbon on your cock..” As soon as those words left your lips, your husband choked on air uncontrollably. “What?!”

“Doll you can't say things like that if you won't follow through.”

“Who says I won't? I really want to..” You felt Sunghoon freeze under your touch, his breath hitched. He looked up to read your face, making sure you weren't joking and actually wanted to do it. “Ok.. do it.” You squeak and hug him tightly, murmuring quick thank yous before you push his desk chair back slightly so you get enough space to kneel before him.

Sunghoon's fingers tightened on the hand of the chair, his heart pounding. He had dreamt of this for so long, wondering how you would look with his cock deep in your mouth. Your lips parted to their maximum at his size and your nose nuzzling with the base of his shaft, where your ribbon would reside.

“Baby lift your hips,” You squeak excitedly, your hands trembling with pure joy as you pull the pink ribbon from your back pocket and tug his pants down till it hits the floor. Your mouth watered at the sight of his bulge. “May I?” You whisper, not taking your eyes off his bulge. With a single hum from him, you pull his boxers down enough so his cock springs out.

You gasp looking at its size. He was honestly very big and that at times has left you feeling extremely nervous about taking him. But he has trained you enough so you could wrap your mouth around him without choking. You gently play with the base of his skin, feeling it twitch by your touch.

“Are you excited, hoon?” You smile eerily, looking up to meet his eyes. He groaned at the view in front of him. You are on your knees, between his thighs with his massive shaft right in your face. It was too much for him. “Yes, baby—” You chuckle and bring the ribbon forward to play with his cock, rubbing it at the base. He let out a low groan, throwing his head back.

His eyes squeezed shut as his cock twitched at the touch and friction of your ribbon. “Fuck—you are so cute—” You giggle playfully and press a teasing kiss on the tip, tasting the salty precum. His hands twitched to grab your head, force your mouth open and just shove his cock down your throat but held back so you could do what you wanted to do.

You wrap the silk around the base of his shaft, lining it up perfectly as you tied the ribbon into a bow. Wrapping your fingers around his cock while teasing him with light brushes of your fingertips. “Baby, stop teasin’” You hear Sunghoon hiss, his hips jerking into your face.

“I’m just making this bow look pretty~ Look hubby,” He simply didn’t care anymore. He had his angry cock right in your face, red and throbbing while all you thought about was the bow? “Open your mouth.” The low vibration from his voice sent electricity straight down your core, making you squirm uncomfortably.

You obediently opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue just like how he likes it. You lick the base of his cock, his hands wrapping around the base of his dick, playing with your ribbon as he slaps it on your tongue. “Fuck, just like that—” You wrap your lips around the head, looking up to make eye contact with him. His face was flushed and needy, pupils blown out with his thick eyebrow frowned.

You smile and push deeper, hollowing your cheeks to suck him, your mouth already aching at the size. “Fuckk—you look s’ good baby.” You picked up your pace at his praises, your pussy already drenched with need. You place your hands on his thigh as you bob your head faster, swirling your tongue around this throbbing shaft, driving him insane.

Without warning, he grabbed your hair in his fist and started thrusting in your mouth, throwing his head back with deep grunts, chasing his pleasure. Your throat burned at the friction he was using you with, your eyes tearing up. But determined to please him, you take him even deeper, relaxing your throat until your nose nuzzled with the ribbon you had tied.

He picked up pace, using you like a plastic toy, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly while spewing praises towards you, a complete contrast to how his cock pistoned in and out of your warm mouth. You gagged around his length, gripping his thighs so you could be balanced while your own wetness leaked down your thigh.

“Fuc—honey ‘m close. Don’t you dare pull back,” Not like you could even if you wanted to. He had his hands on your hair, trapping you between his knees. Your eyes rolled to the back of your mind, saliva leaking down the corner of your lips as you tried to take breaths from your nose.

You felt him tense up under your fingertips, his moans getting louder and his movements getting sloppier. “Fuck—‘m comin’!” Before you could realize, his body tensed under your fingertips as he exploded inside your mouth. Hot spurts of cum filled your mouth as he kept pumping, pushing his release to the back of your throat as you gag violently around him.

Few drops escaped your mouth, leaking from the side of your lips as he slumped back on the chair of his desk, pulling out his now softening cock out your mouth. “Such a good mouth.. Always ready to be filled” You swallowed it all down, your tears falling from the abuse your mouth just went through.

“My wife.. Come here, love.” He picked you up from the floor and placed you on his lap, wiping his cum off your lips with his thumb before he pushed it back in your mouth. “Don’t waste anythin’, you look so pretty being cock drunk, love..” You moan and clean his finger, his thumb leaving your mouth with a pop.

His cock rested on your stomach and you whimpered and leaned in to kiss him, “My wish is complete..” he smiled and kissed you back, his thighs flexing beneath you. “I’m glad, love.. I will always give in to your fantasies.” He gave you a wink, making you shy. “Now come on, I have to take care of my beautiful wife now, I need to make her watch as my cock enters her pussy, even the ribbon she tied.”

You were in for a longgg night.

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the two of you were making breakfast together in his kitchen. you stood behind him while he cooked eggs,  arms wrapped around his bare waist, chin resting on his shoulders as you hummed. every few seconds you’d press a kiss to his neck or cheek.

sunghoon laughed softly when you stole a piece of fruit from the cutting board.

“you’re gonna eat everything before it’s done, baby,” he teased, squeezing your hands on his tummy. you giggled and kissed his jaw, pressing you chest against his back.

“can’t help it… you look so cute when you’re cooking.”

you both ended up eating at the counter—you sitting on the top and sunghoon standing in between your legs as you fed him pieces of bacon. he laughed at how cute you looked, and you giggled at his terrible jokes.

it felt domestic.

at work, you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other. 

in the breakroom, sunghoon had you pressed against the wall, kissing you deeply. your hands were in his hair, pulling him closer as you moaned softly into his mouth. you made the breakroom like his bedroom.

jake walked in at the wrong moment. he froze, eyes wide, then quickly looked away with a muttered, “jesus christ…” before backing out. he found it odd. weird, bizarre even to see sunghoon and you… but you, especially in this state.

he supposed he didn’t know you enough—despite knowing each other since the earliest days of jake’s life.

haewon, who had been right behind him, looked visibly uncomfortable, eyebrows furrowed as she turned and left without a word. 

you and sunghoon didn’t even notice. or even if either of you did—no fucks were given.

on the floor, you were “checking out cds” together—but really, it mostly meant him standing behind you with his arms around your waist as the two of you decided which movie to watch for the night.

even during his band practice time that you’d tag along—sunghoon spent most of it teaching you how to use his electric guitar, sitting on his lap with your back pressed flashed against his chest, sunghoon’s arms wrapped around your waist.

his members would give him a look, and so did your girl friends who shared the room.

it’s weird. it’s unlikely.

every night was spent together under the sheets. 

you loved kissing him. you could do it for hours, everywhere, anywhere—slow, deep kisses that turned hungry, soft pecks all over his face, neck, chest, or just lying there with your lips pressed against his for long moments.

you’d pull him on top of you, legs wrapped around his waist, whispering i love you between kisses like it you couldn’t bear even an inch of space between your bodies.

sunghoon wasn’t complaining. not even a little.

he had never been this happy.

waking up with you curled into his side, making breakfast together while you hugged him from behind, stolen kisses, falling asleep with your head on his chest every night—it felt like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. the constant affection, the way you looked at him… it filled every empty space he’d carried.

days turned into weeks.

and now it had been almost two months together.

“acoustic guitar?” 

you and sunghoon were sitting across from each other at a small table by the window, sharing a plate of pastries and drinks. your fingers were playing with his hand on the table—tracing his knuckles, interlacing your fingers, gently squeezing every few seconds.

you genuinely couldn’t stop touching him.

sunghoon chuckled softly, watching the way your pretty manicured fingers traced the lines on his palm. “yeah. the band’s been doing mostly acoustic sets now. the electric stuff is fun but… i don’t know, it feels different when it’s just the guitar. personal, i guess?”

you nodded, still playing with his fingers. were you even listening?

“i like when you play acoustic. your voice sounds really nice like that.”

“you think s—”

RING—!

sunghoon glanced down to his phone with its screen facing upwards—seeing jake’s contact. he simply acknowledged it before flipping his phone. 

the conversation flowed easily as it should between two lovers—about his band’s past gigs, practice, and whether he should start his own project since the band wasn’t as active anymore.

“you should,” you said, eyes sparkling. you squeezed his hand, nails lightly digging into his flesh. “you’d be amazing leading your own band. i wanna come to every show—wanna follow you everywhere you go.”

sunghoon smiled, warmth spreading through his chest. 

“of course you will.”

you picked up a piece of bread, tore a small chunk, and fed it to him with your fingers. sunghoon accepted it, lips brushing against your fingertips. he was about to do the same for you when his phone buzzed on the table.

jake was calling, again.

sunghoon sighed. “hold on, baby. it’s the second time he’s called now. i’ll be quick.”

he excused himself from the table and stepped outside to take the call. 

you watched him go, your expression shifting. your smile faded. a subtle annoyance flickered across your face as you stared at him walking away, fingers tapping lightly, impatiently on the table.

“what?” he answered, a little impatient. “i’m busy.”

“busy with yn?”

sunghoon sighed. “what do you want?"

there was a beat of hesitation on the other line.

“okay, so…” jake started. “i haven’t told anyone because i don’t know how true this goes, but i went to yn’s house the other day to pass some pie. her grandma was asking where yn is.”

sunghoon frowned, “your point?” 

“she thinks yn lives with me. thought she was sick of her. i didn’t tell her what yn said about her kicking her out but… something’s going on.”

sunghoon glanced back at you. you were staring in his direction, smiling in an unnatural, almost too–wide way. he gave a small wave. you waved back, smiling.

jake continued, voice lower. “and plus, this is just so weird, man… i’ve never seen her acting this way. i didn’t even know she liked you.”

that ticked sunghoon off—he didn’t like that. so what if it was fucking weird? so what if jake didn’t know you liked sunghoon? jake didn’t need to know everyfuckingthing there is to know in this world. just because you and him were childhood friends, it doesn’t mean you need to tell him everything.

his grip on the phone tightened. “what the hell are you trying to say?”

a beat.

“i’m just saying it’s weird,” jake replied carefully. “i’m happy for you two, really. but it’s… it’s like yn snapped into a different person.”

sunghoon looked back at you again. you were still staring at him with that same unwavering smile. it was as if you didn’t stop smiling, at all. 

jake kept going. “i don’t know what’s going on with her… or you… but i think you guys should be apart for a while. she literally hasn’t been home.”

a beat.

“hello? sunghoon?”

call ended. 

sunghoon hung up and slowly walked back to the table. he was annoyed, slightly shocked, and trying hard to hide it. his mind was still replaying jake’s words.

you looked up with him with that soft, adoring smile.

“everything okay, baby?”

he sat down, forcing a small nod. “um, yeah.”

you tilted your head, watching him carefully.

“actually, do you…”

“mmmhm…?” you hummed, leaning forward slightly. sunghoon hesitated, then shook his head. “nothing.”

you studied him for a second longer before smiling again. “hm, okay…. i have something for you.”

you reached into your bag and pulled out a small red box, sliding it across the table toward him.

sunghoon blinked. “what’s this?”

“...open it.” 

he hesitated for a moment, fingers hovering over the box, before finally opening it. inside was a beautiful gem—a deep, dark onyx with flecks that caught the light. it was attached to a simple silver chain, clearly old but well–cared for.

“oh… wow,” he murmured, genuinely surprised.

you smiled gently. “it was my grandma’s… then my mom’s, then mine. but i want to give it to you.”

sunghoon looked up at you, confused. “why are you giving it to me?” 

you reached across the table and gently took his hand. “well… it’s important to me. and so are you—but you’re way more important.”

sunghoon looked at the onyx in his palm, then back at you. “you sound like you love me,” he said, heaf–teasing, half–testing. 

you gave him an eerier, almost creepy smile—too wide, too unwavering, full of teeth. “hoonie… i love you so much. i love you more than anyone else.”

the way you said it sent a chill down his spine.

he tried to keep his voice light. “you’d be sad without me?”

you didn’t even hesitate. “i could die.”

the silence that followed was heavy. sunghoon played with the stone between his fingers, the weight of your words sinking in. then, what jake had said slipped into his mind.

i’ve never seen her acting this way. i didn’t even know she liked you.

yn’s grandma thought she was sick of her.

“yn?”

“yeah?”

“did your grandma really kick you out?”

a beat.

you blinked. then you started chuckling—low, strange sound that quickly turned into scoffing. you stood up from the table abruptly. 

“no, no, no, no, no…”

sunghoon looked up at you, confused. “what?”

you raised your voice, almost childlike in your denial. “nooooo, don’t you do that!”

the entire restaurant went quiet. heads turned, the uncomfortable tension was immediate—all eyes on your table, whispers began scattering around in the space. 

sunghoon stayed seated but reached out, gently grabbing your hand. 

“what? baby, calm down. let’s sit first, please?”

your eyes were twitching, and so were your fingers—gripping into the hem of your pretty sweater. “why does it matter?!”

he looked around, clearly embarrassed, cheeks burning as people continued staring. you pulled your hand back slightly but didn’t sit back down. 

“i thought we were having a nice date?” your voice trembled. your head jerked and tilted sideways, shoulders shuddering. to others, it might just seem like a girlfriend getting psycho over the boyfriend, but to sunghoon who knew better—

it was anything but it.

“we are! we are…” he tried to reassure you, lightly nudging you to sit down again—but you wouldn’t budge. 

“so why does it matter?” you repeated, voice getting smaller. just then, you started crying—softly, almost childishly, tears rolling down your cheeks as you stood there by the table with sunghoon’s hand holding yours.

the silence around you was deafening.

sunghoon was growing concerned and embarrassed—people were getting the wrong ideas, he could feel the judgemental eyes on him—the guy must have done something terrible to make his girlfriend cry in public.

swallowing the lump in his throat, he squeezed your hand gently. “doesn’t matter to me, baby. doesn’t matter,” he said quickly, voice low and soothing.

he finally managed to pull you toward him. you collapsed into his lap and chest almost instantly, sobbing quietly against his shirt. sunghoon wrapped his arms around you tightly, one hand rubbing slow circles on your back, the other cradling the back of your head.

you finally went quiet.

“shhh, it’s okay… i’ve got you,” he whispered into your hair, holding you close as your body trembled with hiccups. “it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t matter to me.”

the restaurant slowly, very agonisingly so, went back to their own conversations, but the uneasy atmosphere lingered. 

sunghoon kept holding and rocking you gently, completely focused on calming you down.

——

the night ended with another fucking session. tonight lasted slightly longer than usual—one sunghoon could only assume was due to your frustration from the dinner date earlier. admittedly, it was sunghoon’s fault. he shouldn’t have brought it up, shouldn’t have listened to jake, shouldn’t have put you on the spot.

if you really wanted to talk about it, you would’ve.

sunghoon accidentally woke up sometime in the middle of the night. groggily, he checked the time on his phone.

03:47

and your side of the bed was cold. 

he sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he looked around the dark room. at first, he thought you might have gone to the bathroom, or went down to get yourself a glass of water. but then his eyes caught something in the far corner—behind a stack of boxes.

a figure. barely visible. so faint it might’ve been nothing.

sunghoon sat up and leaned forward, squinting to get a clearer view. the figure stepped forward at his movement.

“yn…?”

you were standing there in nothing but his oversized shirt, the hem barely covering your ass. your nipples were visibly perky through the thin fabric, and your eyes reflected just enough light from the window to look almost glowing. eyeshine.

“go back to sleep,” you said softly.

sunghoon’s heart rate picked up.

“what are you doing…?”

you tilted your head slightly. a small, serene smile on your lips. 

“watching you sleep. you’re cute when you sleep, hoonie.”

then, without a word, you stepped back into the shadow of the dark corner, becoming almost invisible again. sunghoon stared at the spot where you had been for god knows how long—unable to shake the chill that ran down his spine.

“...can you come back to bed?” sunghoon asked. voice careful.

“no.”

“yn?”

“no.”

the silence that followed was thick and suffocating. sunghoon sat there in the dark of his room, heart beating faster, tummy gurgling with uneasiness. he was getting weirded out—uncomfortable—getting scared by the girl of his dreams.

you were just standing there, not doing anything. not fiddling with the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, not moving an inch, not blinking or cracking a smile. hell—sunghoon couldn’t even see your lungs expanding. 

it was… uncanny. 

he thought of calling out again—but out of nowhere, you started giggling. a childish, high–pitched sound that didn’t belong in the middle of the night, and was definitely not yours. your shoulders shook and trembled with each giggle that slipped past your lips, but you weren’t moving.

“yn—”

you were acting fucking weird when you hopped back toward the bed like nothing had happened, crawling onto him and kissing his cheek with wet, eager presses of your lips.

“you know i love you the most, right?” you whispered sweetly against his skin, voice dripping with something unhinged. “i love you sooooo much…” 

your hands roamed his bare chest possessively, cold fingers digging into his skin as you groped his bicep, squeezing like you were testing how much of him you could claim—ripped out with your bare hands.

you kissed down his neck, grazing your teeth along his pulse point—not quite biting, but close enough to send a shiver of fear through him.

“i could eat you up…” you murmured, teeth scraping harder this time, voice low and obsessive and not yours. “just…. consume every little part of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else—not even for yourself. wouldn’t that be nice? you’d be all mine. only mine. forever.”

your nails dragged down his chest as you nuzzled into his neck again, pressing your chest against him. sunghoon state frozen beneath you, heart hammering. the earlier warmth completely replaced by a deep, instinctive dread. 

with your hand roaming along his body, they travelled down until you were caressing his thigh, close to his boxer. sunghoon let out a small grunt as you licked the part where his major jugular vein pulsed, then followed it with wet, butterfly kisses along the slope of his neck.

sunghoon had never noticed or felt how sharp your canines are. 

“i wanna do it again,” you murmured, fluttering your pretty lashes with that same unhinged adoration. 

even through the fear he’d never felt before in his life, sunghoon couldn’t deny you. not when you leaned in closer, lips brushing his ear as you whispered,

“fuck me, please?”

——

sunghoon stepped out of the bathroom, still half–asleep as he adjusted his shirt. at the same time, you walked out of the kitchen looking as normal, cute, girlfriend–ly, and happy as ever—bright smile, fresh face, still wearing the same oversized shirt as last night. 

“oh! good morning, my baby!” you chirped, immediately walking over and kissing his cheek sweetly.

sunghoon smiled despite the lingering unease from last night. “hi, morning.” he hummed, kissing you back softly on the lips. 

he hesitated for a moment, then spoke carefully.

“... can we, uh, talk about last night?”

your expression shifted. you looked down for a second, then back up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“ugh, i’m sorry,” you said softly. “i had a really bad dream… and i think i was sleepwalking or something. i don’t even remember most of it…”

sunghoon hummed, rubbing the back of his neck. “it was kinda scary. you were saying and doing stuff. and the way you looked at me—” “i know, i know,” you cut in gently, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist. you hugged him tight, pressing your cheek against his chest. “i’m so sorry, baby. i won’t do it again—promise.”

he slowly hugged your back, arms clinging around you. his voice was relieved, but still worried. 

“it’s okay. just promise me it won’t happen again.”

“i promise,” you said sweetly, giving him a squeeze. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too.”

it’s all so weird, but also not. just last night, sunghoon swore he could piss himself on the bed—but came the morning, and he couldn’t help himself.

he reached for his nametag on the counter and pinned it on. “i’ll see you later.”

“mmhm,” you hummed happily. then you suddenly perked up. “oh! i made you a little something.”

you hurried back to the kitchen counter and came back holding a neatly packed lunchbox, handing it to him with both hands like it was a precious gift.

“since i’m not working anymore, i couldn’t stand not doing anything for you and feeling like a useless sex doll—”

sunghoon frowned almost instantly, cutting you off. “what? what are you talking about?”

for a split second, your expression glitched in real time—eyes flickering, smile twitching unnaturally like a bad video feed. your pupils constricted and dilated before it went back normal. you recovered almost instantly, laughing it off like it was nothing. 

“what? sorry, just forget it! here.”

you pushed the lunchbox into his hands with a wide smile. 

sunghoon took it, a little confused. “um… alright.”

you leaned in and kissed him again—soft, lingering, and full of that obsessive affection. he kissed you back, placing his hands on your hips momentarily. 

you pulled away with a bright smile, brushing off nothing from his shoulders like a doting girlfriend. then, you did that cute giddy thing—standing on your tiptoes, dropping back down, then rising onto your tiptoes again, hands clasped in front of you.

“enjoy your day, hoonie!” you said sweetly. “but not too much.” you smiled.

“i’ll be right here when you get home.” 

sunghoon gave you a small smile, and turned toward the door.

only to find it taped shut, literally. layers of grey duct tape crisscrossing over them frame and knob and wall, sealing it completely.

he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “uh… um…”

he didn’t say anything else. he just walked over and tried to pull the knob—the tape held firm.

behind, you stood perfectly still, watching with that same serene smile. you were still standing on your tiptoes, then dropping back down, then onto your tiptoes again. 

“you okay, baby?” you asked, voice soft and innocent. “you seemed to struggle a little… maybe you should just stay at home?”

sunghoon forced a chuckle, still tugging at the door. “no, no, i uh… i got this, baby. just…”

with a sharp rip, he finally tore enough of the tape off to open the door. he turned back to you, trying to act normal. 

“i’ll see you soon.”

you waved at him with an unnervingly sweet, cute smile. still standing in the same spot—still doing your tiptoes movement.

——

sunghoon and haewon were in the aisles arranging the new cd arrivals. 

“been a while since we hung out,” she said casually, sliding a few albums into place. 

“yeah,” sunghoon replied, not looking up from where he was crouching down. “got busy. and yn’s not exactly the hang–out type anymore.”

haewon paused, looking down at him with a raised eyebrow.

“what, really? she used to come over a lot and watch movies with jake and i.” she shrugged. “huh. guess relationships change people.”

sunghoon chuckled, then he smiled, finally looking up to her. “what’s up with that?”

the girl laughed lightly, shaking her head as she continued with her task. “nothing? i always thought yn was like this really cool, whimsical girl, you know what i mean? but now i barely even see you, let alone her. just… bummed.”

sunghoon’s hands slowed on the cds. “uh. i guess so.”

the silence between them grew a little awkward. sensing it, haewon quickly changed the subject with a brighter tone. “oh, yeah, also—jake wants to hold this big, cool movie night at our place tonight. you’re joining?”

sunghoon pursed his lips, then thought for a little while. true—it’s been a while since the three—or four, if including you—hung out together since sunghoon and you became a thing. it had also been a while since he properly talked to haewon and jake outside of work.

everything lately had revolved around you.

“...yeah, sure, actually,” he finally said. “who else is joining?”

haewon smiled, relieved that the awkwardness had passed. “mm, i think jake invited some band people too. aerona’s there too, if you remember.”

sunghoon nodded. “sure. yeah, that works.”

they were cut off by kim calling out from the front counter. “haewon! can you work on this aisle? and sunghoon, you can take your break now!”

haewon grunted softly, rolling her eyes. “i’ll see you tonight.”

“sure,” sunghoon replied with a small smile. 

with another grunt from him, he stood back up, rubbing his hands together and setting the box aside.

as he was walking toward the counter to head to the breakroom, sieun—your bestfriend—suddenly appeared in front of him. she was wearing a low cut sleeveless top and jeans shorts, boots that rose up till her knees.

“sunghoon, hi!”

he was slightly taken aback. “oh, sieun, hey. what are you doing here?”

he kept walking, slipping behind the counter and into the small breakroom to grab his lunchbag. the breakroom door was right behind the front counter, so sieun waited in front with her arms folded in front of her, pressed against her chest—making her cleavage appear more… prominent. 

when he came back out with the lunchbox you’d made him, sieun grinned.

“oh, you know… i kinda wanna rent something,” she said, voice playful. “secretary, maybe?”

sunghoon didn’t know sieun like that aside from sharing a band practice room together occasionally. so seeing her this way, kinda changed the way he viewed her. 

he hummed, letting out a small scoff. “we don’t sell porn here.”

sieun giggled, tilting her head. “oh! so you know?” she leaned forward a little more. “it’s not porn, though? it’s just… suggestive.”

the atmosphere between them felt changed—flirty on her end. 

“well, you gotta pirate it, ‘cause we don’t have it here.”

he then set the lunchbag you made him on the counter between them, creating a space. sieun’s eyes flicked to it. 

“awe, mommy made you lunch, sunghoon?”

“nope,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “yn did, actually.”

sieun let out a soft laugh, raising her eyebrows. “oh, how sweet. she’s the best at cooking,” she hummed, raising an eyebrow. “very… housewife material of her.”

sunghoon chuckled lightly and opened the lid.

the smell hit them both at the same time. 

inside was the most unappetising, inedible, atrocious looking lunch either of them had ever seen—it was just a sandwich. except, the sandwich was both burnt and wet at the same time—the bread charred back on the edges while the middle looked soggy and slimy. a small bug was even crawling slowly across the top.

both of them recoiled instantly.

siuen made a disgusted noise and turned her head away. sunghoon quickly slammed the lid shut, eyes wide with horror.

the lunchbox landed in the trash.

——

the drive started quiet. after shift, jake asked for a ride home in which sunghoon agreed—having lived in the same row of neighborhoods, after all. 

then, jake cleared his throat.

“i wanna talk about you and yn.”

sunghoon kept his eyes on the road. “what’s there to talk about?

“come on.”

the driver sighed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “you know i like her. for a long time too.”

“i know,” jake said carefully, knowing how fragile the topic was. “but i just think you guys should be apart for a bit—”

“i’ve never been so fucking happy,” sunghoon cuts in, voice sharp, laced with defensiveness. “not after my dad passed.”

jake tried again. “it’s just for a little—”

“and you’re trying to give me reasons not to be.”

a heavy beat of silence settled in the car.

“look, i just don't want you, or yn for that matter, to get hurt,” jake said, tone more serious now. “she’s my friend, and you’re my bestfriend, and i’m totally thrown and weirded out by this. can we please break this down?”

sunghoon’s grip on the wheel tightened. “i don’t want to break it down for you.”

jake pushed. “she lied about her grandma. she didn’t have a reason to—”

“i’m still not breaking down our relationship—”

“we don’t even hang out anymore—”

“right, like i had to hear about your cool–ass party from haewon—”

“and you don’t think this is fucking weird at all?”

“were you going to invite us?”

their voices overlapped, the argument building fast and messy in the confined space of the car.

jake frowned. “don’t change the subject. and i wasn’t sure if i wanted to, if i’m being completely honest.”

sunghoon’s jaw clenched. “why not?”

the car slowed to a stop in front of jake’s house.

he turned to sunghoon, expression serious. “because it looks like yn is going through something worse than molly, and it seems to me that you’re taking advantage of it—”

“oh, for fuck’s sakes!” sunghoon snapped, turning to jake. his arms rested on the shoulder of the car seat. “she’s all over me! are you fucking kidding?”

“exactly!” jake shot back. “you were all over her, now she’s all over you and it doesn’t look good. it doesn’t look good at all, man.”

sunghoon let out a bitter laugh, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “why are you trying to ruin this for me? she’s the one who won’t leave me alone.”

jake exhaled, rubbing his face. “alright. then be a man, and make that clear. you can come, but out of love, yn can’t. or yn can come, and you stay at home.”

just before jake stepped out of the car, he paused, one hand on the door.

“i don’t want my friend’s relationship to be built on some weird codependency or what-the-fuck-ever.”

he shut the door behind him.

——

tired from the long day and the argument with jake, sunghoon pushed the door open and flicked on the lights. he just wanted to shower and rest—and cuddle with you until sleep took over.

but the moment he stopped inside, the smell hit him first—sour, acrid, vomit, and urine.

you were still standing in the middle of the living room, the same spot he left you in, soaked in sweat and vomit, standing in a pool of your own piss. the same shirt from earlier was ruined, clinging wetly to your body. urine stained your legs and the floor beneath you.

you hadn’t moved from that spot.

“hoonie!” you said brightly.

sunghoon froze, eyes wide with horror.

“oh, shit—yn?! what the fuck? are you okay?”

you seemed to realise the state you were in. at his reaction, you stepped back embarrassed, looking down at yourself with a small, confused frown.

“i—i’m sorry… oh gosh, i should’ve showered…”

sunghoon moved toward you quickly, concerned and utterly confused. he grabbed a tissue from the tv stand and started wiping your face, trying not to gag at the smell.

“what happened?” he asked, voice laced with worry.

you looked up at him, eyes glassy. “my body feels weird and i couldn’t stop puking… ugh, i don’t know…”

sunghoon’s eyes widened. he scrunched his nose at the overwhelming stench. “did you have a seizure or something?" 

you shook your head slowly.

“i was waiting for you to come home.”

you looked down at yourself again and shivered with visible revulsion.

“oh gosh… i’m so disgusting… you’re probably so disgusted with me. i’m so sorry—let me shower, and i’ll clean this all up.”

you walked toward the bathroom. sunghoon followed close behind, but you slammed the door in his face before he could do anything. the shower water turned on a second later.

“yn, i don’t understand how—” he started, voice raised above the noise of the water.

“i’ll clean it, baby,” you called back, voice sweet despite everything.

sunghoon stood right outside the door, shoulders slumped, forehead resting against the door.

“yn?”

“yeah?”

“...you love me, right?”

“yeah, a lot!”

he closed his eyes.

“...okay. so never do that again, hm?”

“do what? wait for you to come home?”

sunghoon rested his head fully against the door, voice tired.

“not that, baby. you can wait for me—but you know, you can also do things around the house.”

“okay, baby.”

a beat of silence.

“so uhm… what did you do today?”

“nothing, baby.”

another long pause. defeated and unsure, sunghoon finally spoke up again, “i’m going to jake’s house tonight.”

the shower water stopped. and everything went eerily quiet. 

you sounded hurt when you replied. “okay.”

“so i, uh… i’m gonna go there, okay?”

“yup. i can get dressed after this.”

“that’s nice, baby, but uh… i think it’s just a band thing.”

“oh, i know ‘cause sieun was telling me she’s going.”

sunghoon frowned, taken aback. “sieun too? what, really?”

the bathroom door suddenly slammed open. 

you stood there, drenched, wrapping only in a towel. hair dripping water onto the floor. your eyes were wide and intense. 

“yeah. why? are you happy? excited? is that why you’re telling me not to go?” with every sentence, you walked towards him. your eyes were wide, and your skin was warm and flushed from the hot water. you tilted your head once harshly, it threatened to break.

sunghoon stepped back until his back met the wall, hands raised. “no, no, no, baby, no that’s not it—”

then, like a switch, you stood still, like normal, with an innocent look on your face. “but um, okay. if you want me to stay at home, i can stay at home, hoonie.”

now he was feeling overwhelmingly guilty. he didn’t know sieun, your bestfriend, was coming too—so now it just seemed like an overall big misunderstanding. 

“no, it’s okay. i’m sorry—you should come.”

“mm, it’s fine. you can go without me.”

he started persuading you to go, but you kept insisting in that soft tone of yours—”i don’t want to bother you, i’ll just wait here like always,” “i don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

sunghoon didn’t know what to do.

——

jake deadpanned sunghoon the moment he walked in with you clinging to his arm. sunghoon avoided his gaze. around the low table were two other guys from the band circle and sieun, who gave sunghoon a flirty little wave. 

you and sunghoon sat together on the couch, your body pressed close to his. jake and haewon were sitting on single chairs across the table, and others just scattered around.

the group was playing “dare or drink”—a stack of cards with ridiculous and explicit dares.

one of the guys, jaemin, pulled a card and grinned.

“switch spots with whoever you want.”

“hell yeah,” he said immediately, eyes landing on you. “i wanna sit next to yn.”

your eyes widened slightly and you instantly looked over to sunghoon, pouting and pleading, “nooo…” and caught sunghoon’s hand as he got up, squeezing it lightly. “baby, i’ve showered…”

he gave your hand a gentle squeeze back. “it’s fine, babe.”

he stood up and moved to the only empty spot—right next to haewon.

jaemin happily took his place beside you. you looked visibly sad, like a kicked puppy with your eyebrows frowned inwards, scooting slightly from the other guy. 

he laughed. “damn, sunghoon, what kinda spell you got on her?”

the group chuckled. sunghoon forced a smile but didn’t say anything.

it was now your turn. you pulled a card but didn’t read it out loud. instead, you stared at it for a long second before standing up and suddenly speaking in a soft, rambling voice—like you were telling a story no one asked for.

“my wish is to die like an angel, sinless… i don’t know what it is, and i don’t think i’m the only one. falling from the sky with wings made of glass, shattering beautifully so everyone can see who i really am inside. but i can’t. i can’t die like an angel, and i think i can’t die at all. i can’t die like an angel like i wanted to. i’m not an angel—i’m not—i don’t know. i just want to be something.”

the room went deathly quiet. whatever it was… hung heavy in the air—deeply unsettling in everyone’s ribs. jake blinked, swallowing the lump in his throat. haewon, too, blinking confusedly, her lips parting like she wanted to say something—but not sure what.

sieun made a face—a clear what the fuck….? expression—while the other two guys exchanged awkward glances, one of them muttering a quiet, “what…?”

sunghoon just stared at you, completely confused, mouth slightly open like haewon—wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

sieun finally broke the silence, raising an eyebrow. “uh… you good, babe?”

you blinked, sat down again, then smiled like nothing strange had happened at all. 

“yeah. i’m perfect.”

haewon cleared her throat awkwardly. “um… okay, sunghoon—it’s your turn.”

sunghoon blinked, snapping out of it. “oh shit, okay.”

he reached forward and pulled a card. his face paled the moment he read it. he glanced at you—you were leaning forward with sweet anticipation, smiling brightly. then he looked at jake silently pleading. 

“...kiss the person to your left.”

it was haewon.

“ooohs,” and “wows,” rippled through the group. sunghoon made eye contact with you again. your expression had gone completely dead—emotionless, empty. then, the corners of your mouth stretched downwards tightly while your eyes remained unblinking and wide.

then you stood up slowly. everyone’s eyes followed you. 

you stood behind haewon’s folded chair for what felt like forever.

swiftly, you moved behind haewon’s chair and grabbed the back of it—dragged it backward with a loud, grating creak that echoed through the room. haewon’s eyes widened and she gripped the armrests for support and balance. 

then you crouched right next to sunghoon’s chair, puckered your lips, and waited.

the whole room was shocked into silence.

sunghoon stared at you for a second. he hadn’t even planned to do the dare—he was going to drink instead. but the way you were looking at him now…

he leaned in and kissed you. 

then, you looked at sunghoon with glassy eyes.

“no one on this earth will ever comprehend what it feels like to love someone as much as i love you,” you whispered against his lips.

you stood up abruptly and giggled, clapping your hands once like a child who’d just finished a performance. 

“that was fun!”

jake looked almost hurt for a second, but then forced a smile. “um, okay… dare still count. who wants shots?”

a beat.

jaemin raised his hand. “i’ll take one.”

“god bless, thank you jaemin,” jake said, trying to keep the mood light.

“who else?”

you locked eyes with sunghoon. he looked rather uncomfortable. guilt suddenly washed over your face. your heart beat once, then twice, then thrice before something in you snapped.

you jolted violently, swiping the entire stack of cards off the table with one arm. before anyone could react, you grabbed the vodka bottle and smashed it hard against the edge of the table.

CRASH.

glass exploded everywhere. everyone jerked back in fear, chairs scraping loudly as people scrambled away. haewon nearly stumbled over her chair. 

“it’s not me!” you screamed, voice cracking. “i’m not the devil!”

you kept smashing the broken bottle against the table, shards flying. sieun gasped aloud, but wasn’t able to do anything to stop you. sunghoon too, just watched in horror.

“help her! shit—sunghoon!”

“get her to the fucking hospital!”

then, in a frenzied motion, you lifted the sharp, broken vodka bottle and stabbed the jagged end into the side of your face. 

the blunt glass failed to puncture deeply, but it still caused crazy damage—tearing open your cheek in a ragged, bloody gash. blood poured down your face instantly, dripping onto your pretty little dress (too pretty for a simple movie night) and onto the floor. 

sobbing, you kept pressing it in, twisting it slightly. more blood spraying as the glass cut deeper into your skin.

“please—it’s not me!”

the room erupted into chaos—people standing up, chairs knocking over.

“yn, shit!”

sunghoon just stared at you from where he was sitting, almost… emotionless. almost. he blinked like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. his mind was racing—every moment, every strange behaviour, every time he’d ignored it all. he didn’t move.

he couldn’t.

you kept pressing the jagged glass into the side of your face for a few more terrifying seconds before you suddenly stopped. the broken bottle slipped from your bloody fingers and clattered to the floor.

your expression changed instantly. you blinked, looking around the room like you just woke up from a nightmare. 

“oh… oh my gosh, i’m so sorry…”

you looked horrifying. blood poured freely down the left side of your face from the ragged rash on your cheek, staining your pretty dress. your hands were cut and bleeding from gripping the broken glass—and your eyes were wide and teary.

you chuckled awkwardly, nipping at the bottom of your lip as you darted your tongue to lick the blood around your lips. 

everyone in the room was horrified. haewon had her hand over her mouth. sieun was colourless. the other guys were frozen. jake looked like he was about to be sick. 

you tried to smile, voice shaky as you stood up, wiping your bloody hands on your skirt. 

“okay, okay… i’m so sorry, guys. oh gosh, silly me,” you let out a weak laugh, tucking your hair behind your ear. “it was just a joke, um—i’m leaving. sorry, sorry…”

you started crying softly, tears mixing with the blood on your face.

then, you turned to sunghoon, voice small as you extended your arm out.

“come on, baby.”

everyone’s eyes snapped to him.

——

the hospital didn’t take you in.

the nurse had asked sunghoon to make a report and leave you there for treatment, but he refused. he didn’t want to leave you alone. not now, not like this, not ever.

so he drove home instead, your head nuzzling into his shoulder the entire ride, one of your hands tightly gripping his free arm like you were afraid he’d disappear.

back at his house, sunghoon sat at the dining table. the cut on your cheek had stopped bleeding but the parted flesh looked raw and ugly. it gave him chills how you were so unbothered by it.

he was about to stand up when you grabbed his hand.

“where are you going…?”

“just getting water, yn…”

you looked down on your lap, still holding his wrist. sunghoon stared at you for a long, heavy moment—contemplating, licking his dry lips wet.

“why did you do that?”

you finally looked up to him, eyes showing visible sadness, your eyebrows dropped. “...you and haewon were going to kiss…”

sunghoon sighed. he’d half–expected that’d be your answer. sighing, he ran his other hand along his face. “i wasn’t even going to do it,” he said, frustration creeping in. “i was going to drink—you… you scared everyone.”

swallowing the lump in your throat, your gave his wrist a gentle squeeze. “i don’t know why i did it…” you whispered. 

sunghoon shook his head, sitting back down. “look at your face,” he said, voice softer but still strained.

“i’m sorry—i got scared…”

he reached out and gently wiped the dried blood from your cheek with his thumb. you leaned into his touch like a starved animal. 

then, you added quietly, “sieun likes you too.”

sunghoon’s patience finally snapped. he frowned, and pulled his hand back, growing frustrated. why the fuck would it ever matter if sieun liked him? 

“that’s… god, that’s—”

you looked up at him, confused, pulling your hand back. “what…?”

it all blew up.

“god, everything was fucking normal!” he burst out, voice cracking as he stood up. sunghoon turned around to face the wall, clear frustration, anger, disappointment, confusion—all displayed on his face. 

“and now you’re so—you’re so—!”

sunghoon turned and stopped himself, seeing the way you flinched, eyes wide and shocked and teary. 

“i’m sorry… i’m sorry,” he said quickly, voice breaking as he reached for you again. his hands were shaking as he held your cheeks, thumbs gently brushing away the tears. 

“you’re normal,” he whispered, voice cracking. “you’re so normal, and you’re so beautiful and i love you so much but—oh god, yn, please don’t ever do that again.”

sunghoon’s eyes were glassy, filled with fear and guilt and love all at once.

“it’s not okay,” he murmured, shaking his head. “this isn’t okay.”

you looked up at him. he searched for your face desperately, still cupping your cheeks.

“do you… do you like me?”

“of course, hoonie. i love you—”

“no, no, no, no, no,” he cut you off, shaking your head frantically. his grip on you tightened a fraction. “do you like me? do you even like me?”

you tried to answer again. “i lov—”

sunghoon frowned—he almost pressed his thumbs into your flesh. “did yn like me?” he pressed, looking right into your eyes for answers. “is yn happy? did she like me?”

slowly, you cracked a smile, all teeth and almost like a grin. 

“yeah.”

sunghoon let out a shaky breath, eyes filled with pain and confusion. “yeah… no, no, no, no…” he whispered, suddenly pulling away, standing up and walking away.

you stood up too, voice small and scared. “where are you going?”

“bathroom, yn,” he said almost quickly, not turning around. “can i even do that?”

you frowned, now looking frustrated. the obsessive mask cracking as it bled through like the blood from your cut fleshes. “well, can you tell me you love me?” you said, tone laced with something of annoyance and eagerness. 

sunghoon stopped and turned around. his eyes were red, exhausted, and full of everything he’d been holding in.

“yn… this is all i’ve ever wanted.”

you tilted your head before stepping closer. “of course. i know that. this is all i’ve ever wanted too.” 

sunghoon shook his head slowly, stepping back. “no… it’s not…”

you stepped forward, eyes wide and pleading. “yes it is. this is all i’ve ever wanted.”

“i want this to work so bad,” he murmured, pain clear in his voice as he rubbed his face. 

“it can,” you said quickly, almost desperately as you stood before him. “of course it can.”

“no, it can’t.”

“yes it can.”

he ran a hand through his slightly sweaty hair, exhausted but not quite slowing down. sunghoon was borderline tearing up too out of frustration that you were just not getting it. “okay—so i’m gonna send you home and we’re gonna take some space—”

you immediately broke. your shoulders slumped like your soul just left you, like all the energy within had drained out. “noooo…” you started crying, then sobbing, then full–on wailing in a matter of seconds. 

“i don’t want space! i don’t wanna be apart from you! tell me what i should do!”

sunghoon frowned, voice cracked with frustration as he stepped away. “just be normal! be normal, yn!”

you screamed through your tears, “i can be normal!”

“god, i just want you to be yn!”

“i can be yn!” you screamed back, voice breaking and sobbing as your shoulder trembled. you followed wherever he went. “i can be anything you want!”

“don’t say that.” sunghoon said quietly, obviously drained. he held your shoulders, pressing his thumbs into your flesh to keep you steady. “yn will never say that.”

“it’s true!” you insisted, tears screaming. you held onto the hem of his shirt like an upset child. “i’ll be anything!”

sunghoon looked completely exhausted, no emotion left on his face. he was quiet now, staring at the floor. 

your lips parted when he didn’t look at you in the eyes. 

“oh… i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry, baby.”

you dropped to your knees in front of him with a thud, wrapping your arms tightly around his leg, clinging desperately as you buried your face against his thigh. your tears wet the fabric. 

“i can be yn… i can be yn… i’ll be whatever you want.” you murmured, kissing his thigh through his jeans.

“i’ll be sweet, and soft, and kind, caring… like yn… i’ll take care of you and we can cook and read together. i can be yn…” you continued, pressing your cheek into his flesh.

sunghoon slowly crouched to your level, cupping your cheeks so you were looking at him. 

“i love you too…” he whispered, voice breaking.

sunghoon really did.

then something in you snapped.

your face went completely emotionless. your eyes were empty, and you weren’t smiling—and it was as if your tears just stopped trailing down your flushed cheeks. you stood up in one unnaturally smooth, but quick motion—moving backward toward the table with stiff, mechanical steps. 

it didn’t look human.

sunghoon’s eyes widened in terror as he stumbled backwards against the desk, knocking things over. 

“stop! stop—fuck, yn, stop!”

you stood still in the darkness of the room, body rigid. for a terrifying second, he couldn’t predict what was coming next—only hearing his own heavy, ragged breathing and loud thumping of his own heart beat in his chest.

sunghoon didn’t know what was coming—cause you lunged forward, running straight at him—

but you stopped yourself.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured. 

a beat passed.

sunghoon was terrified, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“okay… god, okay. yn, i… i’m gonna step out. why don’t you… why don’t you take the bed, and i’ll just… i’ll just sleep somewhere else and i’ll come back in the morning before you’re even up.”

you stared at him for a long moment—sunghoon couldn’t see, but he could tell you were because of how heavy everything felt.

“okay.”

then you turned around and walked into the kitchen. a loud crashing sound echoed through the house—glass shattering, cabinets slamming, steel pans and pots clattering through the tiles. 

sunghoon flinched, frozen in fear. 

“yn?! what the fuck is happening? what are you doing?!”

the loud chaos went on for the next few seconds before it completely stopped. eerie silence. you came back out of the kitchen, still shrouded in shadow. your voice was calm, almost sweet, but the words were nothing but. 

and you were holding a knife.

“well… if i have the bed all to myself tonight…” you tilted your head, voice distant and almost flat, like you were not in the same space as he was. “...you’re not going to touch me. so i’ll do it myself. over and over and over. i’ll keep going until there’s nothing left inside. until every piece of me is used and hollowed out. my hands will move long after they go numb—and my body will keep moving even when it stops feeling like mine. it won’t stop until it hurts, and i won’t stop until i’m empty. i’ll just keep pushing until the last little bit of me breaks,” 

“...and then there’ll be nothing.”

the sharp blade of the knife in your hand glinted.

then you switched again.

“or you can stay!”

sunghoon’s eyes remained wide in terror as he gripped the carpet beneath him. trembling and shaking in fear, he let out a soft—

“...yeah.”

——

“do you love me?” 

that was the 27th time you asked that night.

you were on top of him, riding him slow and deep, hips rolling in a rhythm. your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, pulling him as close as physically possible. you wanted to intertwine the cages of your ribs with his’—if that was possible. 

you couldn’t stop kissing him. kisses that tasted like salt from your tears and blood from your cut cheeks that didn’t want to leave your skin.

“do you love me?” you whispered against his lips for the 28th time that night.

sunghoon groaned softly, hands gripping your waist as you sank down onto him again, taking him to the hilt. despite everything—the fear, the confusion, the guilt, the violence—it felt so fucking good. too fucking good.

you’re perfect around him, warm and tight and desperately his.

“yeah…” sunghoon breathed, voice hoarse. “i love you.”

you smiled against his mouth, kissing him deeper, tongue sliding against his as you rode him harder. your hips moved with needy, possessive rolls, like you were trying to fuse your bodies together. 

“i love you so much, hoonie,” you murmured between kisses, whispering the confession straight into his insides. “i love you so much like no one else can…”

sunghoon’s eyes stung, wet. a tear slipped down his cheek as the overwhelming mix of pleasure hit him. he loved you. he loved you so much. even like this, he still loved you.

you noticed the tears and slowed your movements, cupping his face with both smaller hands. 

“why are you crying, baby?” you whispered sweetly, kissing the tear away. “i love you so much. i love you so much…”

you rode him again, slower this time, grinding down deep as you kissed him like the world was ending tomorrow. your bodies moved together in the dark of his room. 

sunghoon held you tighter, burying his face in your neck as tears fell down your shoulder, along your collarbone, tits, and down.

he didn’t know what this was anymore.

and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

——

some hours later, after the sex and the clinging, sunghoon was awoken by the soft buzz of his phone.

slowly, quietly reaching for it and careful not to wake you up. the screen lit up.

sieun: can you meet me at the park? sieun: i need to tell you something about yn.

at first, he quickly typed back with one hand.

sunghoon: i can’t. sieun: please. it’s important.

sunghoon: text.

the bubble appeared, then disappeared.

siuen: if youre not cmg, then im cmg over sieun: its about yn

he stared at the scene for a long second. 

sunghoon: fuck. fine

he glanced at you—sleeping on his arm, naked beneath the blanket, looking as soft and calm as ever. slowly, very slowly, he moved your arm off his chest and slipped out of the bed. he put on his pants and shirt as quietly as possible.

sunghoon was just about to leave the bedroom when—

“sunghoon.”

he froze.

“i’m just getting water…” he whispered back, heart pounding. he didn’t want to deal with another breakdown. 

there was a long pause. then your voice came again—different, smaller, quieter. 

“sunghoon… kill me. please.”

he stopped dead in his tracks, ashamed and in disbelief as he stared at your unconscious, sleeping body.

“what?” “shh… she’s sleeping. it’s me.”

despite the tremble in your voice, you were sleeping soundly. 

“you are you, yn.”

“shh… please don’t wake her up.” your voice cracked, desperate. “just kill me.”

a beat of heavy silence.

sunghoon’s throat tightened as he glanced at the floor, before returning to your sleeping form. your hair covered your face, but even so, he knew your eyes were closed, and your mouth was shut.

“what would be so bad… about being with me?”

he could hear the tears in your voice. 

“i’ve never been with you, sunghoon.”

a single tear slipped down your cheek.

“just kill me. please.”

sunghoon stood there, frozen. his heart shattered like it had never been before. without sparing you another glance, he turned and left the room. 

behind him, your voice followed, weak and broken, repeating and chanting like a prayer—

“please… please… please… please… please…”

——

sunghoon got into her car, closing the door behind him. 

“alright. so what about yn?”

sieun raised an eyebrow, unbuckling her seatbelt. “jeez, calm down… what’s up with her first? is she fine?”

sunghoon darted his eyes away, sighing. “nothing. she’s uh… she’s fine. she just wasn’t feeling well at the party.”

the girl gave him a look. a long one. full of suspicion and doubt. “she was about to kill herself.”

“i know,” sunghoon said quickly, trying not to recall the moment you stabbed yourself in the face with a vodka bottle. “but she’s fine now. she’s just going through something.”

the car fell quiet for a moment. sieun tapped her fingers on the steering wheel before she shifted in her seat.

“um, okay… well, first of all, i’m saying this as yn’s friend. and also your acquaintance, somehow.” she paused, raising an eyebrow, then continued. “i’d hate to see your hurt, and—oh, yn too, i guess. and i wouldn’t have done this if you guys weren’t together.” 

sunghoon frowned. “yeah…?”

sieun took a deep breath, dropping her hands from the steering wheel and onto her lap where she played with the hem of her short skirt. “i promise yn i wouldn’t tell you this.”

“what are you on about?”

“well… yn and jake have been hooking up on and off like, three years ago—and they’ve stopped, but i’m not sure when. probably a year ago, or something. it’s chill. i don’t think it’s romantic. and i know jake’s your bestfriend and all, and i’m sure he stopped going after her because he knows you like her. i’m just saying this just so you know.”

sunghoon stared at her, stunned. his heart was beating as fast as it could. he never knew this. he never fucking knew you had a history—a fling—with his own bestfriend before. 

the thought of jake fucking you the way sunghoon did was making his blood boil. the thought of you moaning jake’s name the way you did in his dream was making his skin crawl. the thought of the two of you sharing a kiss—the same lips sunghoon kissed every night—was making him… repulsed.

“what the fuck…?”

“yeah,” sieun said softly. “i just… i don’t know if she’s told you that, so i felt like i had to.” she said, still playing with the fabric. “you couldn’t imagine what it’s like being me, and having to be in a room with jake, you, and yn all together.” 

the mood in the car shifted. sieun leaned a little closer, her voice dropping into something more… slicky. 

“i just think you deserve someone more… outgoing. or something. like, chill…”

sunghoon looked at her and swallowed the lump in his throat. distracted, his hands landed on the way her fingers were moving around the skirt. 

he parted his mouth to say something when—

CRASH.

the driver–side window shattered violently. 

glass exploded inward as you ran head–first into it like a battering ram. before sieun could even scream, you wedged a brick against the steering wheel, grabbed a fistful of her hair—so tight it threatened to rip off her scalp—, and slammed her face down hard against the brick.

HONK!

the horn blared with every slam..

you didn’t stop.

you yanked sieun’s head back by the hair and smashed her face into the brick again.

HONK!

blood sprayed across the dashboard and onto sunghoon’s face. sieun’s nose crunched on impact, splitting open. her cheek tore wide open, teeth falling down on her lap. 

HONK!

more blood poured from her broken nose and split lip. her cheekbone cracked with a wet sound. one of her teeth flew out, clattering against the windshield.

HONK!

you were relentless, animalistic. your face was covered by your hair, unfiltered rage as you kept yanking her head back by the hair and driving it down over and over and over again. 

HONK! HONK! HONK!

it was a bloodbath inside. on the seats, the roof, the windows, sunghoon. her face was unrecognisable, swollen, and mangled, one eye swelling shut, the other was exposing her eyeball. she was gurgling, choking on her own blood,

dead.

nothing to the name anymore.

playgirl’s just lost the lead singer.

sunghoon sat frozen in the passenger seat, paralysed by shock and terror. his body wouldn’t move, not a centimeter. his mouth hung open in silence as he watched you—the girl he loved—violently smashing her bestfriend’s face with raw force. 

he could only stare.

HONK!

with one last slam, you let go of sieun’s chunk of hair that you’d pulled out. her body slumped lifelessly against the seat, head tilting back. warm blood poured from her face, dripping down.

sunghoon stared. smoke from the broken horn lingered in the air like a ghost. he was paralysed—eyes widened, body frozen in horror.

you finally sighed, lifting your head up to face him with a bright, almost cheerful smile, blood smeared across your cheek and hands.

“oh—oh gosh! i’m sorry you had to see that, baby!”

you moved your hair out of your face, still smiling.

“my heart took a path i never chose… but just know you wanted this. this is all your fault. this is what you’ve wished for.”

sunghoon’s face was pale, mouth slightly open but nothing came out. upon his terrified reaction, your heart broke and the smile was instantly wiped off your face, replaced with a concerned look. 

“oh, no no no no no—” you rushed to his side, opening the passenger door. you cupped his face with your bloody hands, wiping the sweat and specks of blood from his skin. “breathe, baby, breathe,” you said, taking deep breaths.

“it’s okay. i’ve got you. that’s all that matters… you’re fine, baby. i’m soooo sorry for the drama, but this is your fault. sieun’s your fault.”

you pulled him into a tight hug, pressing your blood stained cheeks against his chest. 

“and you’re gonna have to help me get rid of her body, okay?”

sunghoon shook his head frantically. “no… no no no—”

“yes, baby. you’re gonna help me.”

“no, no, no—” he groaned, voice breaking.

you pulled back, still holding his face gently, eyes soft but insistent.

“baby, i forgive you and i won’t hold it against you. but we have to get rid of her, okay? now shake your head yes.”

he shook his head again, tears welling up.

you smiled patiently. “yes. yes. yes, baby.”

he kept shaking his head.

“nod your head yes.”

realizing he had no choice, sunghoon finally nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks.

——

sunghoon helped you move sieun’s body into the trunk of your car. you kissed him softly on the lips before saying you’d take it from here.

he drove back to his house but couldn’t bring himself to go inside. the fear was too heavy even though he knew you weren’t inside. the thought of being in his house by himself, waiting for you to come back was too much.

so instead, he drove until he reached crystal cove. 

it was barely 8 in the morning when he barged in, the bell above the door ringing violently. he went straight to the shelf where he’d found the one wish willow—

it wasn’t there.

“what the fuck…”

out of breath, sunghoon rummaged through the other display boxes, panicking—if it was all just his imagination. when he couldn’t find it, he stormed to the cashier, voice shaking.

“where is it? where’s the one wish willow?”

“what?”

sunghoon’s eyes twitched. “the one wish willow! it’s—it’s a white box with a twig that you can only wish for one thing!”

the cashier, with a cup of coffee in hand, raised an eyebrow, clicking his tongue.

“hey, look—you gotta chill… it like 7AM. what’s with the vibes you’re giving off?”

sunghoon was frantic, he looked around the shop for it. “come on, one wish willow! please, please—”

he stared at the bloodied guy like he was crazy. “...what? are you okay?”

sunghoon’s heart dropped. “what…?”

was it because of the blood on his shirt that nobody was taking him seriously? or was it because there was no such thing as one wish willow in the first place?

he was in disbelief. “no, no, no—don’t fuck with me. you guys had those!”

the cashier looked at him weirdly for a second—before chuckling like it’s the funniest fucking thing ever.

“chill out, jeez… i’m just messing with you. we moved them here.” he pointed right at the counter, where a small display now sat. 

sunghoon frowned, wanting to flip the cashier off but decided there was more important matter now. he grabbed the remaining one wish willow box from the display. 

“how can you fucking sell this to people?!”

the cashier shrugged, sighing. “look. we just sell what the boss wants us to sell. now if you can’t chill out and wipe that theatre blood off your face, i’m not gonna scan those for you.”

sunghoon snapped out of his rage for a second, realising how crazy and unhinged he sounded. he let out a deep breath and rubbed his face with one hand, on the verge of another round of tears and break down.

“sorry… fuck, i’m so sorry. oh god…”

the cashier’s expression softened a little when sunghoon calmed down, then he glanced at the boxes, and realisation kicked in.

“... what did you do?”

sunghoon couldn’t speak. the words wouldn’t come. 

the cashier sighed. “oh well. that’s just how it is.”

sunghoon’s voice cracked as he put the boxes on the counter. “help me reverse it.”

he shook his head. “nope. already used mine.”

“please, please, please—” 

sunghoon was begging at this point.

“nooo, you know that’s not how it works. it’s one wish for a reason! the box is full of warnings—did you read the instruction paper?”

“instru—dude, please, please—”

“nope. you know what you were wishing for.”

“i didn’t—”

“no.” the cashier said firmly, now looking at sunghoon straight into his eyes. “you do. there’s no way to undo, or break the wish unless you kill youself—”

sunghoon’s eyes widened, he froze.

“—unless you kill youself, or have someone else reverse it.”

“k—kill… myself?”

the cashier nodded, drumming his fingers against the countertop. “yeah. that’s usually the easy way people do it. i’ve dealt with unsatisfied customers like you all the time for the same reason. it’s too much of a hassle to explain it to others, so they just kill themselves.”

sunghoon remained frozen, swallowing the lump in his throat. his hands shook around the box. the weight of his mistake finally came crushing down on him when he realised just how heavy the consequences were. 

noticing sunghoon’s reaction, the cashier sighed, rubbing his head. 

“just have someone undo it for you. that’s probably the best option you got here—since,” he lifted an eyebrow, seeing sunghoon in a state of shock.

 “...you don’t wanna kill yourself.”

the cashier scanned all the one wish willows for sunghoon.

——

sunghoon knocked on jake’s door—loud, frantic, over and over until jake finally opened it, looking confused.

“hey, what’s up? you almost knocked my door over.”

sunghoon ignored it and pushed past him into the house. jake closed the door behind. the friend wanted to ask about the stain and blood on sunghoon’s shirt, but didn’t get the chance to when sunghoon began.

“is haewon here?”

jake frowned at his friend’s urgency before shaking his head. “no… she left cause she wanted to check up on yn…”

“what—?! fuck, uhm, okay, listen to me first. listen to me well. you know—you know how yn started acting all weird and liking me all of a sudden?”

jake nodded slowly, still confused. “...yeah?”

sunghoon pulled out one of the one wish willow boxes from his pocket and held it in front of jake with shaky fingers.

“it’s ‘cause… it’s ‘cause i made a wish. i made a wish—and i broke this twig and at first i was confused as hell but it’s real!”

jake frowned, staring back and forth between sunghoon and the box. “what…?”

“no, it’s real!” sunghoon insisted, voice shaking. “you can make a wish, but just one! just one… and it’ll work. i wished yn loved me, and i didn’t think it was gonna work but it worked and it’s why she’s acting insane all of a sudden!”

sunghoon’s voice cracked. “you don’t even recognise her anymore.”

a beat.

jake took it all in, quiet for a long moment. then he looked at sunghoon with wide, stunned eyes. 

“...you made a wish… on yn?”

sunghoon looked down on the box in his hands. “...yeah.”

jake was shocked, almost disgusted. it felt as if he didn’t know who was standing before him. “why the fuck would you do that… why the fuck would you wish something like that on her?”

“because i fucking like her, jake!” sunghoon exploded. “i fucking like her and you know it and you would’ve done the same too if you had this! and—and i know you guys have been fucking!” 

jake’s face hardened. “what the fuck? that’s none of your business! and for the record, you know i liked yn first. you fucking know it but you decided to like her too and i’m too kind of a friend to give that to you!”

he snapped, heart pounding. jake’s never fought with sunghoon this bad, ever.

quietly, like a murmur, he continued, “and no, i’m not that big of an asshole to wish something like this.”

sunghoon scoffed, bitter. “sure. right. ‘cause you’re yn’s most perfect guy that she loves. because you’ve been with her since childhood—so naturally, you guys are meant to be together? is that it?.” 

the tension in the room was suffocating. 

not being able to stand jake anymore, sunghoon swallowed the lump in his throat before storming away from the house, slamming the door behind him loudly.

——

“...yn…?”

the house was dark except for the slivers of sunlight cutting through the curtains and the candles flickering across the house. the air smelled like wax, and heavy with metal.

you were nowhere to be found.

but on the coffee table was a memorial, or at least what looked like it—photos of sieun, locks of her hair, her eyeball that threatened to roll out of the skull, her id, and her belongings from the car. 

there was also stuff of haewon’s, arranged carefully with flowers and little trinkets. it looked like a shrine too. 

next to the table, on the tv—played clips of sunghoon sleeping, with you recording and appearing every now and then.

sunghoon’s stomach dropped. “yn…?”

“i’m right here, baby.”

you stepped out from behind him.

you were wearing sieun’s clothes—a short denim skirt, boots, and a tight tank top. your hair was cut shorter, choppy, and you’d stabbed a nose piercing through your nostril. blood still trickled down from the fresh wound.

you smiled at him sweetly. 

“do you like me better now?” 

sunghoon was stunned, shocked into silence. his mouth opened, but no words came out. he couldn’t get his eyes off you.

“...yn… yn, i need you to do something for me… okay?”

you tilted your head, eyes wide and glassy. even after all these, you still weren’t enough for him. 

“why can’t you just love me? why don’t you love me?”

you started hitting yourself—hard, open–palmed slaps against your own face until sieun’s rings and bracelets split your cheek open, fresh blood running down. 

“i just want you to love me!”

“stop! stop!”  

you stopped, standing still. sunghoon stumbled backwards, backing away slowly, terrified. you stepped closer, voice dropping obsessively, hungrily, and almost sweetly inhumane.

“gosh, i want to eat you up… i want to be with you,” you licked your lips, tilting your head as you followed him. “i want you to love me… i love you more than anyone else in this world…”

sunghoon’s breath hitched.

outside, a loud knocking started on the door. 

jake’s voice came through, urgent. 

“dude, i’m sorry! i’m so sorry—tell me again what’s happening and let’s fix it! can we still save her?!”

sunghoon’s eyes widened. he fell back onto the couch, mouth open like he wanted to scream at jake not to come in—but he couldn’t bring himself to. the words died in his throat as he’s forced to look at you.

you straddled his lap, eyes wild and unhinged. the screaming outside grew louder as jake kept banging on the door. 

“hoon—i’m coming in! shit, i’m coming in!”

you pressed the tip of the knife you’d been holding right in front of your left eyes, smiling with pure psychotic glee as blood trailed out of your mouth. 

“i’ll kill myself, hoonie! i’ll fucking kill myself right in front of you!”

the horror in sunghoon’s face was pure. his body was shaking as he stared at the blade hovering too dangerously close to your eye.

right at that moment, you turned with crazy speed and hurled the knife toward the door.

THUD.

the blade sank deep right into jake’s chest the second he forced the door open. he stumbled back, eyes wide with shock as blood instantly soaked his shirt. he collapsed, back hitting the door shut.

dead, before he even hit the ground.

almost instantly, you turned back to sunghoon, fisted the collar of his shirt before screaming—

“i’ll rip my fucking eyes out of my skull and shove them up my fucking cunt, hoonie!”

you vomited stomach acid right at his face. sunghoon flinched, shutting his eyes as the warm, burning  liquid slid down his skin. 

he was trembling, broken, unsure what to do or what was real anymore, but the words still came out soft and full of the love that had ruined everything. 

“i love you. i love you, yn. i love you.”

you screamed at him, eyes wild. “scream it!”

“i love you! i love you, yn!”

like a flick of a wrist, you fell on top of him, sighing contentedly as you rubbed your cheek against his chest. your voice dropped into that sickly sweet tone again.

“i know… i know. i love you too, baby. you owe me that. you owe me that.” 

sunghoon’s voice was hoarse and dry as he lifted his arms to wrap them around your frail body. “we can… we can work this out.”

his hand came upon your head, brushing your hair. 

“mmhm. mmhm. i’m sorry for the drama… ugh, i don’t know why i do that. i know you love me. i’m gonna stop on the mollies…”

he nodded slowly, still in shock. if you could feel, or hear his heartbeat—you didn’t comment.

you nuzzled closer, kissing his jaw. “i’m such a mess… i’ll be pretty again, i promise."

“no, no,” he whispered, holding you tight as he planted a kiss on top of your head. “you’re gorgeous, baby. i love you so much. i love you.”

“i’m sorry—”

“you’re beautiful. my beautiful girl.”

you smiled against his neck, all soft and loving. 

“i love you so much. more than anyone else in this world.”

he knew that.

sunghoon closed his eyes and looked up, tears slipping down his cheeks. he’s fucked up. he’s fucked up like no one else ever did before. he’d ruined you—an angel, the sweetest girl anyone’s ever met. he’d turned you into a version of yourself not even your parents could recognise—admit it was theirs. 

a version not even you, would know. 

“let’s take a shower. let’s take a shower, okay? freshen ourselves up.”

you hummed happily. “mmhm.”

——

“open up! open this fucking door, hoonie!” 

you were yelling and slamming on the door like manic, voice shifting from wild rage and sickly sweet.

“baby, please… i’m sorry, i’m so sorry—did i scare you? just open the door. i love you. i love you so much. don’t leave me! don’t you dare leave me—!”

“let me in, bitch! fuck you, fuck you!”

“oh shit—just a second, baby! just a second!” he screamed back.

“okay, just a second. thank you!”

sunghoon stood in front of the sink, staring back at himself in the mirror. his face was bloodied—did some belong to him? some yours, some sieun’s. he’d like to think jake’s and haewon’s were there too.

his eyes were empty. he couldn’t cry if he wanted to. there was just nothing left.

he touched the onyx necklace you had given him, the stone cold—meant for protection and grounding, felt meaningless in his hand. 

“baby?”

a beat.

“i thought about what you said, and maybe you were right… we need some time apart for us…”

sunghoon opened the cabinet with shaking hands and pulled out a razor. he held it to his wrist, then his throat, then his neck—aiming for the spot that would it fast. 

his hand trembled as he pushed the blade deeper into his skin, not yet puncturing, but making a dent.

he couldn’t do it.

“if space is what you need—then sure, okay, we can take some space.”

sunghoon pulled away with a deep breath, shaking his head and tossing the razor aside. he rubbed his face and pressed the heels of his palms deep into his eyes—praying this was all some sick nightmare that was about to end.

and then he’d wake up, and everything will be fine. you’ll invite him over for a movie night where he would come in bringing popcorn and drinks. and he’ll confess—tell you everything he’s been keeping to himself.

just like the way he rehearsed it. 

“i’m really sorry for scaring you, hoonie. i just—i just love you but i want to respect your decision.”

instead, sunghoon opened the cabinet again and found the old bottle of insect poison pellets—the same ones that had killed kibbles.

he sat on the toilet, staring at the bottle for a long moment. he knew there was no turning back. he poured one pellet into his palm, then put it in his mouth and swallowed it.

not convinced enough, he dumped the rest of the bottle straight into his mouth and forced them all down, choking them dry.

“hoonie…? baby, please open the door…”

sunghoon got off the toilet and rested his forehead against the door, when he knew you were standing and waiting for him on the other side of the door. 

he spoke softly, exhausted.

“um, yn… i… i’m really sorry.”

he swallowed hard, eyes closed.

“i’ve liked you for so long. so fucking long. i just… i couldn’t find the courage to confess. i thought you didn’t like me back and i was scared of losing you,” sunghoon said, the tip of his nose brushing against the hard wood.

“and now… now this is happening and there’s nothing i can do to fix it. i just like you so much. i love you so much.”

a beat of silence.

it felt like hours passed in a matter of seconds.

then a whisper, barely audible through the door—

“she likes you too.”

sunghoon’s eyes snapped open.

“what?”

before something shifted.

a spark ignited within him. the world snapped back into focus as the heavy fog that clouded everything lifted. 

his eyes widened. he stared at the bathroom door like it was the first time he was seeing it. slowly, sunghoon opened the door and walked out.

you were standing across from him, smiling shyly at him, a little nervous, a little hopeful. your hands are clasped in front of you. all sweet and innocent girlfriend.

he smiled back.

the two of you laughed together.

it was romantic when he approached you. sunghoon leaned in and kissed you passionately, hands cupping your face. his lips moved against yours with all the love and longing he had. on your tiptoes, you cupped his cheeks as well and with a soft flick of his tongue, you parted your lips partly and he wasted no time slipping his tongue in, overlapping and dancing your own. 

“i love you,”

when sunghoon pulled back slightly, his face was covered in blood from your wound, but neither of you cared. 

then suddenly, his knees buckled.

sunghoon collapsed—but you caught him, lowering him onto the sofa on your lap. pure panic flooding your face as you cradled his cheeks, hands trembling.

“baby… babe… oh gosh, don’t leave me alone—what did you do? oh gosh, baby no!” 

your voice cracked, high and desperate, as you searched his face for anything. his eyelids fluttered, skin already turning clammy. you could feel his warmness fading beneath your palms.

“no, no, no—stay with me. stay with me, baby,” you whispered, pressing frantic kisses to his forehead, his temples, his lips. tears streamed down your cheeks, mixing with the blood still drying on your hands. “you can’t leave me. i love you more than anything. i did everything for you… everything. don’t you dare go. i won’t let you.”

you wailed, hugging his head tightly to your chest, rocking him back and forth. you stroked his hair while the other clutched his shirt, fingers digging into the fabric as if that could hold his soul down.

sobs wrecked your entire body as you buried your face in his hair, breathing in his scent. his breathing was growing weaker and shallower—white foam of saliva began forming to the corner of his mouth as his body went limp. 

"i love you... i love you so much, hoonie, please—"

his body gave one final, weak shudder in your arms.

then everything went still.

for a heartbeat, the room was silent except for your ragged breathing.

the moment his heart stopped beating, you snapped back. 

your eyes widened in horror—followed by a blood-curdling scream ripped from your throat as you shoved yourself backward, letting sunghoon's limp body fall onto the bloodied floor with a dull thud. 

you stared at your bloodstained hands first—they were coated in sticky crimson that you could probably never remove no matter how many times you washed your hands. then your gaze darted around the room, confused, panicked, scared.

jake's body slumped by the door, eyes still open.

the memorial of haewon's and sieun's on the table.

and... sunghoon's motionless on the floor when you'd pushed him off you.

the wish shattered, and reality crashed over you like ice water.

"no... no, no, no—"

you scrambled onto the sofa, pulling your legs up and hugging your knees tightly to your chest. your sobs came harder and harder, violent, whole body shaking as you rocked back and forth. 

tears poured down your face as you buried it between your knees, screaming and sobbing louder. the weight of every horrible thing you had done—despite being only a witness hit you at once.

you were finally yourself again.

and you had never felt more alone.

ㅤ© ⌞hoonkitti⌝ ⁞ all rights reservedㅤ please don't share, copy, or translate my work.

“uh… uh huh.”

sunghoon pushed on, gaining confidence after that little push. he cleared his throat, eyes fixed on the female in front of him. 

“my heart flutters every time you walk into the room, and every word you confide in me—” 

“nope. stop.” jake cut him off, waving his spoon like a referee. “dude, nah. what are you? you’re not 72, you’re only 23!” 

sunghoon groaned loudly, covering his face with both hands, elbows planted on the table. his dark hair fell forward as he slumped. “then how am i supposed to say it?” he mumbled through his fingers, voice muffled and frustrated. 

jake leaned forward on the chair, grinning. oh, his poor little bestfriend. he turned to the poor waitress, who was holding the pot of water as she refilled sunghoon’s cup for the fifth time of the night. 

“alright, be honest,” jake asked her, tilting his head. “would you accept his confession?”

the waitress blinked, cheeks tinting ping. she shifted on her seat, chuckling softly. “uh… um… well, it’s a bit too… much? like, too fast?” she gave a nervous little laugh. “i mean, that was really sweet! a little gross, but so sweet!”

jake clapped his hands in victory. “exactly. thank you.” he flashed her his charming smile. the waitress smiled back, scooting to leave the banquette chair. “also, can i get a cup of coffee? thank you.”

“sure,” she nodded quickly. before leaving, she glanced at sunghoon, whose head was still slumped against his palms. her voice softened a little. “and don’t worry too much about it. girls are simpler than you think. it’ll go well.”

sunghoon just muttered a soft, weak “thanks…” without lifting his head.

once she disappeared toward the counter, jake stood up, swung the single chair back to its original spot and slid back into the booth across from sunghoon. he stretched his arms along the back of the seat, sighing. 

they’d been practicing for the past hour straight, and it honestly wasn’t looking too good for sunghoon. every attempt came out either painfully stiff and awkward or overly dramatic—like it was so obviously scripted and rehearsed. 

the fluorescent lights of the diner above them flicked once, casting a brief shadow over sunghoon’s flushed face. he couldn’t believe they just stole away a waitress, her time, and made her the victim of his endless confessions.

jake watched him for a second, the grin faded into something more to sympathy. he leaned forward, arms on the table now. 

sunghoon finally dropped his hands, thoroughly defeated. “i’m never doing this again.”

“you’re overthinking it.” jake said, voice lower than before. “yn isn’t the type who wants fireworks and bouquet of roses. she literally laughs at the smallest things in the world and more than anything, she’d value your honesty and sincerity more than these… superficial things.” he tapped the table twice for emphasis.

“just be honest and direct. tell her how you actually feel when you see her. that’s it.” 

sunghoon finally lifted his head, dragging a hand through his dark hair. his jaw clenched, dark brown eyes tired under the warm lighting. “i know that,” he muttered, sighing. “but every time i think about actually saying it to her… my brain just goes blank, man.”

“what if i ruin it? everything? we’ve been friends for some time now—i can’t just fuck it we ball. what if she doesn’t feel the same and it gets weird?” 

jake shrugged, stealing a fry from sunghoon’s forgotten, unfinished plate. “then it gets weird for a bit. but at least you’ll know how it actually goes if you do confess.” he pointed a fry at his friend. 

“and besides, you know how she is. she’s not going to throw a friendship over some temporary feelings. she’s more mature despite her looks.”

sunghoon didn’t answer right away. he stared at his glass instead, watching droplets of condensation slide down the glass. the thought of you made his chest ache in that terrifying way of rejection. 

he could already picture it.

your soft voice saying no, the same voice that sunghoon loved hearing more than the sound of his band’s songs. the way your fingers would probably hold his’, telling him how sorry you are, the same fingers that strummed his guitar. how you’d look turning him down—no longer the peaceful look you always have on your face. 

ugh, fuck. you’d probably look awkward, guilty, and pity him. looking pathetic in front of you was the last thing sunghoon ever wanted. 

and the thing was—sunghoon’s feelings, he’s sure it’s not just temporary. they weren’t just a passing crush like how the other boys had for their crushes. this feeling settled deep in his chest and it only grew stronger every single day.

“i don’t know,” he finally said, voice low. his fingers messed with his hair again, tugging at the strands in frustration. 

“ah, fuck it,” sunghoon muttered under his breath, tipping his head back before his shoulders slumped. “i’ll just… shit, i won’t do it.”

jake’s eyebrows shot up. “hey, don’t be like that. what gives?”

sunghoon shook his head, refusing to meet his best friend’s eyes. he slumped back against the seat. “nah, i don’t want to hear it when she says no.”

there it was—the insecurity he kept locked away that’s slipping out in his tone. sunghoon wasn’t the type to say it out loud often, but tonight it sat right on the surface. jake knew this too well. 

jake leaned forward a little more, frowning in confusion. it wasn’t going well, sure—but sunghoon looked determined enough just a few seconds ago. “you won’t know that unless you try.”

“nah, it’s fine, man,” sunghoon replied quickly, scoffing. he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. pure body language sign that he didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. “i’ll just regret it.”

jake, still slightly frowning, watched him for a few seconds, then sighed. “alright… well, you do you.” he paused, tapping his fingers once on the table before adding, more seriously this time. “i’m just saying… it’s not like you have all the time in the world. you either take the risk, or lose the chance.”

the words landed like the moon between them. sunghoon didn’t reply. he only stared at his cold glass again. jake quietly sipped on his coffee, drumming his fingers against the table.

the diner went quiet. 

——

when did it all start? 

maybe it was the first time he ever saw you.

it was a few years back—a lazy, hot afternoon in jake’s dorm meant to study but turned into doing nothing. jake had been showing him old photos on his phone, scrolling through memories when sunghoon wasn’t even in. 

then there you were, standing next to jake in one of the pictures, maybe fourteen, or younger than that. sunghoon couldn’t tell. but you were smiling brightly with messy hair and stained uniform. jake laughed and said something like, “that’s my childhood bestfriend, yn. she’s starting here this semester.”

sunghoon had only nodded at the time.

or maybe it started the day you stepped into their elective class—graphic web designing—half an hour late. 

you’d missed the bus, hair—again—slightly messy from rushing across the campus, cheeks flushed and the collar of your blouse was slightly wet with sweat. the professor made you introduce yourself in front of the entire auditorium as “punishment”.

just like others, you were embarrassed. but a cute kind. the kind where sunghoon was glad the bus ran late because he got to see you this way. 

or maybe the night his band performed at the campus music festival.

the lights were blinding and the crowd was loud. but in the middle of one song, his vision had cleared for a split second and he saw you. standing near the front with jake, smiling and not singing cause you had no idea what you’d just dragged yourself into. 

you’re an awkward girl, sunghoon could tell that. probably not as awkward as him, but definitely not as outgoing like the others in the crowd. when the set ended and you smiled up at the stage—not at the band or the performance, but specifically him when your eyes met—something within sunghoon shifted.

that was the moment he knew it wasn’t casual anymore. 

HONK!

sunghoon startled, snapping back into reality as the sharp sound of a car horn cut through his thoughts. he was behind the wheel of his sedan, halfway home. the traffic light in front of him had turned green while he was lost in his head. 

“gosh… jesus, calm down,” he muttered under his breath, cheeks warming with embarrassment even though he was alone. he quickly shifted gears, pressing the accelerator a little too hard before easing off. 

his hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. that spiral of memories left a strange tightness in his chest. the way you looked at him. not the lights, not his bandmates, not jake. just him. 

he exhaled slowly, trying to shake the feeling off. driving usually helped him clear his head, but tonight, every red light felt like a warning. 

you either take the risk, or lose the chance. 

sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek. he wasn’t sure if he was ready to even risk it… but the longer he waited, the more he’s at a loss.

how was he supposed to say it then? 

sunghoon tried practicing in his head again, muttering under his breath like an idiot. 

“hey, yn… i’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now…”

too casual. basic.

“i like you. a lot. more than a lot, actually—”

no. that sounded too desperate. 

“if you don’t like me back, i don’t know what i’m gonna to myself.”

what the fuck was that? sunghoon cringed hard, gripping the wheel tighter. he’s not saying that to you.

every version felt wrong. too stiff. too awkward. too much. not enough. 

damn. was this even the right thing to do?

you… you were so full of light. so whimsical and kind to everyone in a way sunghoon had never known before. smiling, laughing, giving pieces of yourself away so… so easily. sunghoon wanted that. he wanted all of it for himself. 

but what if you didn’t feel the same? what if you only saw him as someone from your graphic class? as jake’s bestfriend?

he hated how that was possible. and how much power you had over him without even knowing it.

“... i just want her to look at me,” he muttered quietly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.  “is that too much to ask?”

the selfish want sat heavy in his chest, mixed with the familiar fear of rejection. sunghoon didn’t think about what his confession might do to you. the thought about what not having you was already consuming him too much. 

——

“kibbles?” sunghoon called softly, voice echoing a little in the dim hallway. he kicked off his shoes by the entrance, setting it aside with his foot. “kibbles?”

huh. she’d usually come running. or at least meowed from her favourite spot on the windowsill where she liked to watch the car headlights. the sound of the door unlocked should already alert her that he was home.

but tonight there was nothing.

sunghoon frowned, sighing as he set his keys down on the console table. he made his way through to her usual spots first—the windowsill, none. the corner of the couch where she’d bundle in the blanket, none. on top of his speaker stack, not there too. under the dinner table, no sign of her.

“kibs, come on,” he muttered, a small thread of annoyance and worry creeping in as he walked further into the house. deciding to let her be for now, sunghoon went into his room and flipped on the bathroom light.

he froze.

there—kibbles was lying motionless on the cold tile floor near the sink, her small gray body curled unnaturally. a half–chewed blue-green pebble was sitting right in her slightly opened mouth. white, foamy drool trailed at the corner of her cat mouth.

insecticide bait pellets for the tiny ants he’d bought. 

“shit…” sunghoon whispered, heart dropping. 

he crouched down slowly, hand hovering over her without touching. she was already cold—must’ve been a while ago today while he was out the whole day. sunghoon glanced at the pellets he scattered around the floor. 

he must’ve forgotten to throw the rest of those pellets out after he placed them. he’d meant to, really had. but between band practice, the constant thinking about you, work, assignments—it had slipped his mind. 

“sorry, kibs,” he breathed, scratching the back of his neck, then ruffled through his messy hair. 

what a shitty fucking day. 

he crouched there on the bathroom floor for a long moment, just staring at her. she’d been with him since his first year—a low–maintenance companion who never asked for much, but always kept him together. 

and now she was gone because he’d been careless about throwing those damn poison pellets out. 

eventually, sunghoon stood up. he grabbed an old towel from the rack and gently wrapped her in it, carrying her out of the bathroom. she felt heavy and unnaturally stiff in his gentle grip. he placed her on the kitchen counter for a second while he looked for a bag.

once he found one, a paper bag, he carefully slid her inside and set the bag near the edge of the counter, meaning to deal with it properly later. to bury her outside, or something. 

but his phone suddenly rang, cutting through the silence of the house.

he pulled it out of his pocket. 

haewon.

“hey,” sunghoon answered, voice tired and weary. 

“hey, are you and jake okay?” haewon asked without much greeting. it’s always been like that anyway. she sounded like she was walking somewhere, keys jingling in the background.  

“yeah, why?”

“dunno… he just looked kinda bummed when he came home. you okay?”

sunghoon let out a long breath, leaning against the counter. his eyes drifted to the plastic bag holding kibbles.

“not really,” he admitted quietly. “kibbles died.”

there was a soft gasp, then followed with a short pause on the other end.

“oh gosh…” haewon muttered, her breath hitched in her lungs. “sunghoon, i’m sorry… what happened?”

“she just… she ate something bad,” he said, the words coming out carefully. he didn’t mention the insecticide pellets. didn’t mention he’d forgotten to throw them out days ago. it happened. 

“i found her in the bathroom earlier.”

he left it at that—vague, but enough. people didn’t need to know about details. part of him felt kinda guilty for not telling the full truth, but another part of him just didn’t want to hear the judgement in her voice. or worse, the pity.

haewon sighed softly on the line. “that’s awful… i know how much you loved her. do you need anything? want me to come over or bring you food or—?”

“nah, it’s fine,” sunghoon replied, rubbing his temple. “i’ll deal with it. thanks though.”

“oh—alright, just let me know if anything, okay?”

“sure.”

the call didn’t last much longer. after a few more gentle words from haewon, he hung up and set the phone down. 

sunghoon stood there in silence for a moment, staring at the paper bag. he then glanced at the clock on the wall—it was almost 2. too late to deal with this properly. he’d handle it tomorrow. whatever people did in these situations.

with a tired sigh, he picked up the bag and carried it over to the kitchen trash bin. sunghoon hesitated for half a second—he didn’t want to throw her out, of course; but he didn’t want to have a dead cat lying on the counter. 

so he dropped it inside.

the soft thud it made when it hit the rest of the trash felt heavier than it should have.

sunghoon didn’t want to think about it anymore tonight. what would change?

he turned off the lights, dragging himself to his bedroom, changed to his shorts before collapsing onto the bed. he closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come fast.

what a shitty fucking day.

——

“hah—ngh—?” 

you were underneath him.

a broken sound escaped your throat as pleasure coiled tight in your tummy. you were spread out on his bed, legs wrapped around his waist as he moved deep inside you in slow, rolling thrusts.

missionary. intimate. close.

“shit, yn…” sunghoon groaned, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips. you felt impossibly warm and tight around him. like a fucking vice. your hands were gripping his back, pretty little manicured nails digging into his skin every time he sank in fully. 

he leaned to kiss you hard, tongue sliding against yours, swallowing every little gasp and whimper that left your lips. your bodies were slick with sweat and saliva and cum—skin sliding together with every movement like oil on oil.

sunghoon pulled back just enough to look at your face—flushed, eyes hazy and teary and blurry with pleasure, lips parted with your lipstick smudged across your lips and his’. so fucking pretty. fuck—the way your tits bounced back and forth every single time he rammed into you.

that made him thrust harder, deeper, grinding against that spot that instantly made your back arch off the bed. your eyes rolled back into your head, and you gasped so aloud it made sunghoon’s hair stand up.

your head tilted back, nails digging into sunghoon’s back.

“ahh—fuck! right there!” 

your voice was wrecked, desperate, and so fucking sweet. you clung to him tighter like a lifeline, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, hips rolling up eagerly to meet every thrust. your tight walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, pulling him deeper with every desperate movement.

sunghoon groaned against your neck, kissing and biting the sensitive skin as he picked up his pace. he fucked you harder, grinding against up the pace. he fucked you harder, grinding against that perfect, gummy spot inside you with every stroke. the way your body responded—arching, trembling, soaking his length—drove him insane. 

“you’re so tight, ugh shit—feels s’good.” he moaned, capturing your lips in a messy, heated kiss, swallowing your moans as he drove into you again and again. your breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hard from arousal. one of his hands slid down to grip your thigh, spreading you wider so he could bury himself even deeper.

you moaned louder into his mouth, nails raking so hard and deep it left angry, red marks down his canvas of a skin. your hips kept rolling up like you couldn’t get enough. “g—gonna cum, i’m gonna cum—!”

so wet. so tight. so perfect.

sunghoon wanted to stay buried inside you forever.

“yeah—? oh jesus,” he grunted, nudging your head up to expose more of your neck so he could press his hot lips to your jugular. he kissed the spot first—soft and open–mouthed—before sucking hard on that soft spot, tongue dragging over your pulsing vein as he continued thrusting into you with deep strokes.

the wet, filthy sound of his hips meeting yours filled the room. 

he pulled back just enough to look at your pretty flushed face, eyes clouded with lust.

“i love you,” he whispered hoarsely against your lips. “do you love me?”

your eyes slowly fluttered open. you looked up at him with that soft, hazy expression he loved so much. your fingers brushed his messy, damp hair away from his forehead tenderly, then you smiled—sweet and warm and honey dripped. 

and then you whispered back,

“i love you, jaeyun.”

what—?

sunghoon woke up with a violent jolt, gasping sharply as he sat up in bed. 

his heart was racing so fast, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his cock—his cock was painfully hard, straining against his boxes. the dream still clung to him, the heat of your body, the way you moaned, the way your tight pussy tightened and clenched around him felt so real.

but those last words hit him like ice water.

jaeyun.

sunghoon sat there in the dark of his room, chest heaving, staring at his own reflection on the wall in front of him. the name echoed in his head, twisting something ugly and sharp in his stomach. 

he ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to calm his breathing. 

it was just a dream. just a stupid fucking dream that felt so, so, so fucking real. 

just a dream. shit.

he let out a heavy sigh and glanced down. the front of his boxers was visibly wet and sticky, soaked through from how hard he’d cum during the dream. at the age of 23. he cursed under his breath and pulled the blanket off his lap.

then he finally looked at the clock on his nightstand.

16:53

“damn…” sunghoon muttered, rubbing his face. he had slept through the entire morning and most of the afternoon. he’d missed practice—but thank god the rental store was closed for the day. 

RING—!

his phone suddenly rang, vibrating loudly on the nightstand. sunghoon reached over to grab it—the screen lit up with jake’s name.

he stared at it for a long second before picking up, his voice coming out rough and slightly annoyed when he was reminded of the dream. 

“what?”

“whoa, damn,” jake laughed on the other end. easy. “did i wake you up or something? you sound like shit.”

sunghoon leaned back against the headboard, running his fingers through his hair again. “uh—yeah, sorry. long night. what do you want?” sunghoon cleared his throat, sounding less… irritated. 

jake didn’t seem fazed. “band night at the hollow tonight. a couple of the guys from fine arts are playing. thought you might wanna come through. you in?”

sunghoon hummed, leaning his head back, staring at the ceiling. kibbles’ death and the dream was still clinging to him like sweat. 

“uh… no, i don’t think so actually.”

there was a short pause. 

“you are?” jake asked, both teasing and concerned lilt slipping into his voice. he wondered if sunghoon was still annoyed and bummed from last night’s conversation. “yn will be there.”

sunghoon’s grip tightened slightly on the phone. the mention of your name sent a mix of heat and unease through his chest. it’s nice if you were there—it’d been a minute since sunghoon last saw you. he figured he could…

kibbles.

his heart ached.

“uhm… yeah, no. i don’t know, maybe not,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “something came up.”

jake hummed, not buying it. haewon must’ve not told him yet about kibbles. “something came up, huh? you’ve been weird since last night, man. are you good?”

“i’m fine,” sunghoon replied a little too quickly. “just… ‘m just not in the mood tonight. tell haewon and yn i said hi though.”

a beat.

“...alright, sure.” jake didn’t push further, but his tone made it obvious he was suspicious and slightly disappointed. “but if you ever change your mind, we’ll be there from like, 8–ish. don’t rot in your room all night, hoon.”

“yeah, and i won’t—later, jake.”

sunghoon hung up and tossed his phone onto the bed beside him. he sat there in silence for a while, the wet spot on his boxers now cold and uncomfortable.

he glanced at the clock again—it’s a little past 5pm. knowing jake and haewon, they were probably going to drag you out to eat first before heading to the bar for the night. the thought made his tummy twist.

it’s so… bad.

sunghoon hated how easily jealousy sat in his chest now. hated how vivid that dream still felt. hated that even after everything, the first name that left your lips in his fantasy wasn’t his. 

with a heavy sigh, sunghoon forced himself up and out of bed. he stripped off his boxers, tossed them into the laundry basket, and headed to the bathroom. the shower water was hot when he stepped under it, steam quickly filling the small space.

he closed his eyes, letting the water run down his face. 

it’s because you and jake were childhood friends.

that had to be it. that closeness from time. the inside jokes. the way you finished each other’s sentences and food. the way jake could casually throw his arm around your shoulder and you’d just laugh it off, not tensing up. 

the two of you had years of platonic history. sunghoon had… what? a few months—a year, at least—of stolen glances, late–night study sessions, occasional group hangouts, and bar nights where he always ended up sitting near you but never close enough.

the four of you even worked together at the old movie rental store off campus. that was how he got to see you more often—organising shelves together, sharing lunch times together, the chats when the store was empty. those shifts were everything to him. 

sunghoon pressed his forehead to the cool tile, jaw tight.

he wanted more than that, though.

the water kept falling, but it did nothing to wash away the ugly twist in his chest.

——

after his shower, sunghoon stripped the messy sheets off his bed to replace them with fresh ones, trying to keep his hands busy, mind occupied. he was smoothing out the comforter when his phone started ringing again.

gosh. endless calls.

but this time, the screen lit up with your name. 

yn ♡

sunghoon’s heart jumped, and he nearly let go of the pillow he was puffing up. he cleared his throat a couple of times, quickly running his still–damp hair to compose himself before swiping to answer.

“hi, yn,” he said, trying to sound casual even though his voice came out a little lower than usual. 

“hi, sunghoon,” your voice came through the line, soft and warm like always. like you. “are you coming to the band night at the hollow later?”

sunghoon sat on the edge of his freshly made bed, fingers gripping the phone a little tighter. he sucked the inside of his cheek before replying, “uh… maybe not. i don’t know yet,” he answered, hesitating. did you call him just to ask if he was going? did jake put you in on this?

“are you?”

a short second paused before you answered.

“yeah, i am,” you hummed. “one of my girls is performing with her band tonight, so i have to show up,” you continued with a small laugh. there was another short pause before you added, 

“it’d be nice to have you there, though. i’ve got something to tell you.”

sunghoon’s tummy flipped. his heart jumped, and the words got stuck in his throat. 

“really?” his voice softened, a grin plastered on his face. “what is it?”

you let out a soft giggle. “haha, you’ve got to come then if you want to know.”

he couldn’t help the smile that rugged at his lips. canines digging down the flesh of his lower lip, sunghoon fumbled with his pants’ drawstrings. 

“hmm… we’ll see.”

there was another brief pause. then, you continued, tone shifting to something more casual but sincere. “oh, also… i wanna let you know that i’ve put in my two weeks at the store. i wanna focus on helping my mom with the family business we got going on.”

sunghoon’s smile faded. he hadn’t expected that. the only time he could see you for eight hours a day was when you shared a shift. but now, you were going? leaving him?

“oh… wow. that’s… that’s sudden.”

“yeah,” you replied quietly. “i’ll tell you more about it later if you come tonig—crap!” 

there was a sudden clatter on your end, followed by shuffling sounds like you were moving around quickly.

sunghoon sat up straighter. “yn? are you okay?”

he heard a soft grunt on the other line, then your voice. “yeah, yeah—but ugh,” you muttered, crouching down. he could hear the faint echo of your voice like you were near a tiled floor or drain. “my gem fell!”

“your what?”

“my necklace,” you explained, voice a little strained and clearly frustrated. sunghoon heard more shuffling on your end, like you were trying to look for it down the drain. “my onyx, ugh. it’s for protection and i’m supposed to bury it—it just slipped off…”

sunghoon’s lips twitched despite everything. even in small, troubled moments like this, you were still so you.

just as he was about to drift back into that dangerous fantasy, your voice pulled him back. “—of all days! i already feel so crappy, gosh.” 

there was a soft sigh on your end before you continued, “today’s been awful… anyway, i’ll see you tonight?”

sunghoon hesitated for half a second, then answered quietly, “sure. i’ll be there.”

your voice brightened, sunghoon could hear it. he bit back a smile. “really? okay, great. i’ll text you if anything changes. see you later, sunghoon.”

“mmhm. see you, yn.”

the call ended.

the promise of seeing you tonight—with the something you wanted to tell him—made his chest feel tight in a way that was both exciting and terrifying. 

tonight could be the night that everything changes.

——

“welcome to crystal cove.” 

sunghoon gave the girl behind the counter a small smile as he stepped inside the quirky little shop. the place smelled in incense and old wood, with soft ambient music playing in the background. he looked around slowly, taking in the shelves packed with crystals, tarots, and spiritual… weird trinkets. 

the girl, who looked to be around his age with dyed purple hair, multiple piercings, barely looked up from her nails at first. 

“if you need help with anything, let me know,” she said lazily, then went back to filing her nails.

sunghoon just nodded and wandered into the store, browsing quietly. after a couple of minutes, he cleared his throat. “uh, yeah… actually i do need help. do you have crystal or gem necklaces?”

the girl finally put down her nail file and walked out from behind the counter.

“yeah, let me show you.”

she led him to a small table that had a spinning display rack full of necklaces and pendants. different stones in shapes and colours hung neatly. 

“this is all we have,” she said, giving the rack a little spin. “they all have their own energies and stuff, so yeah… take your pick.”

sunghoon leaned in slightly, scanning the many options. “wow, thanks…” he paused, then asked, “what’s one for… calmness, or something like that?”

the girl tilted her head, thinking for a second before picking out a necklace with a smooth, pale blue stone. “this one’s blue lace agate. pretty good for calmness and communication. helps with anxiety too, supposedly.”

sunghoon stared at it for a moment, then nodded before taking it from her hand. “okay, cool… thanks.”

“mmhm,” the girl replied with a small hum, already turning away to go back behind the counter. she picked up the nail file again.

sunghoon held the necklace for a few seconds, turning it over in his palm. huh… yn’s not gonna like this. it felt too generic. he quietly placed it back on the spinning rack. 

just as he was about to walk away—get you another thing, bracelet, or something—something else caught his eye.

on the shelf right in front of him sat a small collection of boxes, tiny voodoo keychains, and other oddities. tucked between a "manifestation jar” and a pack of antique–degined tarot cards was an unassuming item labeled—

one wish willow.

the box was small and white, almost minimalist. on the front was a delicate illustration of a slender, weeping willow branch with a single growing orb at the tip. the text printed in a thin, elegant serif font:

grab your wish willow! 

break with intention. one use only.

below that, in a smaller faded letting:

wishes do come true. be careful what you ask for.

the packaging looked old, like something you’d find in an actual vintage shop rather than a crystal store like this. sunghoon turned it around. on the back was a simple set of instructions printed in the same font:

spark the middle, break in half.

he stared at it for another few seconds.

huh… a wish. a small, crooked smile tugged at his lips. 

“yn’s gonna like this.”

sunghoon grabbed the box without thinking twice and headed to the counter. the girl looked up from filing her nails again when he placed it down. 

“no crystals?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

he shook his head, smiling. “this one’s better, i think,” he replied, shrugging.

she scanned the item with a bored expression. “oh right, sure. ‘cause you can make a wish. everyone wants a wish.” she said, her tone subtly sarcastic as she put the box in a small paper bag.

sunghoon let out an awkward laugh. “haha… yeah. it’s, um… it’s not for me.”

“right…” the girl glanced up at him, as she slid the bag towards him with a half-smile. “well, don’t come back complaining if it actually works.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “oh, don’t worry, i won—wait, what do you mean? people complain about these?” 

the girl leaned her elbows on the counter, looking mildly entertained for the first time she puts her file down. “well, they’re from the 70s, so most people buy them as collectibles. not really meant to be used. the ones who do use them… usually come back complaining.”

sunghoon let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “haha, why? ‘cause they make regretful wishes or something?”

the girl didn't laugh. she just looked at him for a beat too long. 

“yeah. and then they wish they were dead.”

a heavy silence fell between them. the soft ambient music in the store suddenly went deafened.

sunghoon blinked, slightly taken aback. the girl didn’t bat her eyes away. 

“... what?”

she held his gaze for another second before she suddenly cracked a smile and laughed lightly, waving her hand. 

“well, that’d be 15000 won.”

the eerie tension vanished as quickly as it came. sunghoon blinked, letting out an awkward chuckle but still a little unsettled. 

“ah, haha… um, here.” he handed her his card. she rang him up quickly, slipped the receipt into the bag. “you’re good at creeping people out.” he complimented her nervously.

the girl laughed, shrugging. 

“enjoy your wish.”

when sunghoon walked off with his paperbag, he turned to look at the girl behind the counter.

she smiled very still, eerily.

wow, sunghoon thought, shaking his head. she needs a raise.

——

the hollow was loud but cozy, being a small bar after all. a local band warmed up on stage followed by low chatter of regulars. the four of you were seated at a round wooden table near the back: you, sunghoon, jake, and haewon.

“—so this guy at the volunteering site tried to flirt with me in the midst of cleaning up the chicken’s cage. mid–scooping he goes, ‘you have really pretty eyes.’”

jake bursted out laughing. “ew, that’s disgusting. what did you say?”

“i told him my eyes were only pretty when i wasn’t smelling shit,” haewon replied, laughing.

you were laughing too, leaning forward with your chin resting on your hand. “he sounds silly. did he keep trying?”

sunghoon smiled along, but honestly, he wasn’t really listening. his eyes kept going back and forth from you, then haewon, then back to you again. under the table, he kept nudging jake’s foot with his own.

jake finally glanced at him, mouthing, what? 

sunghoon jerked his head subtly toward you, then gave jake a look that clearly said—leave us alone for a bit. 

jake raised his eyebrows, now?, then glanced at haewon who was still mid–story and fully engaged. 

haewon suddenly paused, catching the weird energy and the way they’ve been silent between the two boys. “what the hell are you guys doing?” 

jake’s eyes widened then he chuckled, shaking his head. “nothing! nothing, nothing.” 

nothing—was what he said, but jake’s foot nudged haewon’s underneath the table as well. she frowned, but was quick on catching it, haewon looked at sunghoon—then to you who looked a little confused, and a knowing little smirk appeared on her face.

“oh, oh, okay,” she said, clearing her throat and standing up, “well, i’m kinda thirsty so i’m gonna get more drinks. anyone want anything?”

you immediately started to stand too. “i’ll come with you!” 

then sunghoon suddenly spoke up. “wait—no, i’ll go.”

everyone paused. haewon blinked at him, jake—who was mid–standing in his seat, ready to go with haewon—looked back and forth between you and sunghoon. “uh…” 

“o—okay…” haewon murmured, slowly sitting back down. jake cleared his throat and plopped back into his chair as well. “alright, yn and sunghoon can go then. i just want a coke.”

you glanced at sunghoon, slightly surprised by the sudden switch–up when nobody wanted to go with haewon. still, you didn’t question it. “...sure,” you said with a small smile, gesturing toward the bar. 

“let’s go, sunghoon.”

the bar area was nicely lit with string lights hanging overhead, accompanied with chatters and a band playing on stage in the background. you and sunghoon found a small open spot, slightly away from the main crowd.

you leaned forward slightly, catching the bartender’s attention with a small wave.

“hi—yeah, can i, uh, get two beers, one coke, and a strawberry soju spritzer, please?” you ordered, then added with a grateful smile once he nodded. “thanks a bunch.”

the bartender tapped on the terminal. “alright, that’ll be 38,500 won,” he said. “oh, and we only take cards, hun.”

you nodded quickly, smiling. “oh yup, sure sure,” you replied, already reaching for your wallet.

sunghoon instinctively moved to pull out his own card, but you were faster. your card beeped on the reader before he could do anything. “no, no, it’s fine!” you said, smiling. the machine beeped in approval. 

“i got it.”

then, you gently pushed his hand back down with a soft laugh. sunghoon opened his mouth, then closed it again, a small smile forming despite himself. 

“you didn’t have to do that.”

“i wanted to,” you replied simply, flashing him that smile he loved so much. “you can bring the drinks later.”

sunghoon smiled. as the bartender turned to make the drinks, you turned toward him, resting your elbows on the wooden counter. he felt his pulse pick up, and rubbed the back of his neck before speaking.

“so, uhm… any new movies you’ve been watching lately?”

your eyes lit up instantly—movie talk was always a safe, comfortable topic between the two of you, having worked in a rental store and all.

“oh yeah, actually…” you got comfy. “i watched undertone two nights ago. but don’t tell kim, okay? i promised her i’d rent it at the store first so it counts toward our numbers.”

sunghoon let out a genuine laugh, the sound low. the tension from earlier eased a bit. “you watched it without renting? that’s bold. kim’s gonna kill you if she finds out.”

“i know, i know,” you giggled, covering your mouth with one hand. “i felt so guilty the entire time, but i couldn’t wait. it was so good, sunghoon. the sound design’s absolutely crazy, oh my gosh. i don’t think i’ve ever been so scared without all the jumpscares, ghosts action, you know?”

sunghoon nodded, smiling. he placed the top of his chin on his palm. “i’ve been meaning to watch it. everyone’s been talking about the score. was it as creepy as the trailer made it seem?”

“oh—creepier.” you said, eyes widening for emphasis. sunghoon loved all the expressions your pretty face could do. “if you’re ever gonna watch it, don’t watch it alone—i kept thinking, ‘why am i watching this by myself?”

he smiled. you always got that spark in your eyes when you talked about films. the way your eyebrows lifted, the small scrunch of your nose. so animated. it was one of his favourite things about you.

“haha,” sunghoon chuckled. for a moment, he almost forgot everything else. forgot about the confession, the dream, kibbles. but then he remembered—you said you had something to tell him tonight. 

“oh, yeah… about the thing you wanted to tell me—” he started, voice a little quieter. 

before you could hum a reply of what he was saying, haewon suddenly appeared beside the two of you.

“playgirl’s playing! they’re starting their first song!” she said excitedly, already grabbing your arm. playgirl was one of your friend’s bands that was performing for the night. 

“come on, we have to go back!”

your eyes widened slightly, quickly grabbing your phone on the counter. haewon gently pulled you away. “already?! wait—”

you turned your head toward sunghoon, giving him an apologetic but sweet smile. 

“finish what you’re gonna say later!”

sunghoon nodded, trying to hide his disappointment, annoyance, and embarrassment. he clicked his tongue, drumming his fingers against the bar counter.

dang.

“yeah… later.”

——

the group walked out into the parking lot together, still laughing about something from earlier. your voices echoed between the parked cars under the glow of the streetlights.

suddenly, you stopped mid–step.

“oh, an orangey!” you said, eyes lighting up. a small stray tabby was lurking near one of the cars. without hesitation, you jogged towards it and crouched down, rummaging through your bag until you pulled out a small pack of dry cat food. you tore it open and carefully poured some onto a clean tissue you’d taken out, placing it on the ground.

the three of them slowed down and watched you.

haewon tilted her head, amused. it hadn’t been that long since she became friends with you. “does she always have cat food around?” she asked the two boys.

jake nodded with a grin. “mmhm. pretty much.”

a few moments later, you stood back up, brushing your hands together as the cat approached the food. 

“sorry, what were we saying?” you asked, catching up to them again with an apologetic smile. obviously that small act of kindness towards the cat brightened you up, because you couldn’t contain the smile on your face.

haewon linked arms with you. “we’re going to karaoke! the night is still young~”

you let a tired groan, leaning your head on her shoulder for a second. “but i’m getting older~ ugh, i’d love to join but i’m just so sleepy…”

“awe, come on!” haewon whined, shaking your arm. “it’ll be fun! we haven’t done karaoke in forever.”

“i know, but…” you smiled tiredly, shaking your head. “nooo, seriously you guys, i’m kinda tired.”

jake chuckled. “you sure? you didn’t even drink a lot today.”

you turned to him with a pleading look. “but i do—jaeyun, please? i’m tired… i wanna go home.”

your childhood friend scratched the back of his neck. “my car is headed to the karaoke place though…”

you gave him your best puppy eyes, clasping your hands together like you’re praying. “please drop me off first?”

before jake could even respond, sunghoon stepped forward, unable to hide the quiet eagerness in his voice. 

“i can take you home.”

you turned to sunghoon with a slightly surprised but grateful expression. “are you sure?” 

“yup,” sunghoon nodded, trying to sound casual. “it’s uh… getting late for me too.”

haewon immediately pouted. “aw please, you never go to sleep right away anyway! who’s gonna play the bells while i sing, then?”

jake laughed, covering up haewon’s mouth. “i’m here, let them go home, already.”

you giggled, smiling softly at sunghoon. “thanks, sunghoon.”

the four of you exchanged quick goodbyes. sunghoon waved at jake and haewon—then jake pulled you into a hug. his arms wrapped around your waist.

“get home safe, okay?”

“mmhm, i will,” you murmured against his shoulder before pulling away.

sunghoon watched the hug a second longer than necessary, jaw tightening just slightly before he looked away.

——

the drive was quiet at first.

it wasn’t the first time sunghoon had ever driven you home, but every time he did—it always started quiet. like the two of you were giving yourselves some room to get comfortable. you sat in the passenger seat of his sedan, the streetlights casting patterns across your face.

in the smallness of the car, the alcohol had clearly hit you harder now. your movements were a little more abrupt, head occasionally leaning against the window as you stared off into the passing scenery and stores. your words started to slur just a tiny bit at the edges.

after a few minutes of silence, you turned your head toward him.

“oh, right… haewon told me about your cat,” you began, voice softer now, laced with sympathy. “i know it’s kinda iffy to hear it from someone else but… i just wanted to let you know i’m sorry about your cat.”

sunghoon’s hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. he kept his eyes on the road.

“oh… no, no, it’s okay,” he replied quietly. “i mean… it’s not okay, but i don’t think it’s fully hit me yet.”

you nodded slowly, blinking a few times like you were trying to focus. you knew how much his cat meant to him—based on the amount of times he’s talked about it. “well… you can call me when it does. if you want. i’m here.”

sunghoon glanced at you for a brief second. even drunk and sleepy, you were still looking at him with that gentle care that always made his chest feel tight. 

“i know,” he said, flashing you a soft smile. “thanks.”

the quiet hum of the engine filled the car again before sunghoon spoke again. “oh, i got you something… but only after you tell me what you wanted to say.”

your eyes widened and you turned to look at him. the mood in the car shifted slightly. “you bought me something? you shouldn’t have—wait, why am i kinda nervous?”

sunghoon chuckled awkwardly, his eyebrows’ slightly pinched in slight confusion. “i don’t know. why is that a reaction?”

you scoffed playfully, shaking your head. “um—anyway, it’s nothing really,” you said, voice slightly slurred. “just wanted to tell you i put my two weeks in.”

the boy glanced at you, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “you told me that on the phone though?”

you let out a small, awkward laugh and nodded, looking out the window for a second. “i know… i just wanted to say it again in person.”

sunghoon didn’t buy it. it was obvious on his face—the slight tightening in his jaw, the way his eyes narrowed just a fraction. there was something more—he knew it. felt it. but before he could press further, you said something.

“also… you know my friend sieun?” you turned to look at him, trying to sound casual. “what do you think of her?” 

his grip on the steering wheel tightened a little. sieun? sieun park? your bestfriend? “...nothing? i don’t really talk to her aside from our rehearsal time. why?”

you smiled, humming. “well… what do you feel about her?”

sunghoon chuckled softly, glancing at you before his eyes drifted ahead. “you’re asking how i feel about her? like, if i like her?”

“just wonderin’ cause…” you shrugged, still looking out the window for a moment before turning back to him with a small, tipsy smile. “she likes you. and i think… you guys would be cute together.”

the words hit him harder than they should have.

sunghoon’s expression shifted—a flash of surprise, followed by something sharper, almost pained, and irritated. his crush—the girl he’d been liking for months—was trying to set him up with someone else. the irony burned.

“what?” he let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “that’s kinda silly. she doesn’t even know me. i don’t even know her.”

“well, maybe it’s time to get to know her then,” you replied lightly with a smile. as if it was the most obvious solution in the world. sunghoon swallowed. his chest felt tight. 

“i don’t… i don’t like her like that.”

there was a beat of silence. at the emphasis, you tilted your head, watching him with those soft, slightly unfocused eyes. 

“oh. so you have someone you like, then?”

sunghoon’s heart fluttered. he kept his eyes fixed on the road, then he glanced at you before replying. “yeah… i guess so.”

the air in the car suddenly felt a bit heavier—it was hard for you to grasp it in your drunken condition, but you knew enough not to push it further, just hummed quietly and leaned your head against the headrest.

sunghoon’s mind was racing.

how could you say that so easily? how could you just… tried to set him up with another…?

then, you turned your head to look at him again. “actually, i never thought you would have someone you like. you’re just so… composed and to yourself. it’s hard to figure you out.”

sunghoon gave a small, self–deprecating smile.

“well, i’m not exactly an open book when you wanna get to know me.”

still smiling, you replied, “i think you still are.”

a laugh escaped both of you at the same time—a little awkward, but it managed to ease the tension for a moment. sunghoon’s fingers tapped once against the steering wheel. he hesitated, then asked the question that had been burning in his chest since the starter of the conversation.

“what about you? do you have someone you like?”

you went quiet for a second, then nodded slowly. “i think so, yeah…” your voice was softer now, almost shy. “but i don’t think it’s reciprocated. or it is—i’m not sure.”

sunghoon’s heart picked up speed. so you have someone you like too. sunghoon wondered who it was—that lucky motherfucker. he tried to keep his voice steady.

“does he know you like him?” you shook your head, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at your lips. 

“no, i don’t think so. i get really… shy? around someone i like. so, yeah. if i like someone, nobody will know.”

the silence that followed was nothing like what’s in sunghoon’s mind. every word you said twisted something deep inside him—hope, frustration, and ache all at one. he wanted so badly to ask who it was.

he didn’t.

sunghoon didn’t even confess, yet it felt like he was already rejected. 

or maybe he never stood a chance.

“oh—well, we’re here.” sunghoon murmured as he pulled up in front of your grandmother’s house. you unbuckled your seatbelt, gathering your things. just as you were about to thank him and step out, sunghoon spoke again.

“oh yeah, um… do you have a partner for the end of the year party yet? or are you even coming? ‘cause i’m performing.” 

you paused, hand already at the handle, and turned back to him with a small smile. “oh yes, yeah. at jay’s house, right? i’m planning to ask jaeyun if he wants to come with me.”

sunghoon’s expression froze. 

i love you, jaeyun.

“...jake?”

“yeah. who else?” you replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it’s always him.

the words left his mouth before he could stop them.

“do you like him?”

you blinked, a little confused by the sudden shift in his tone. your eyebrows pinched in confusion, and your head’s slightly tilted. “yeah…? jake’s my bestfriend…”

sunghoon’s jaw tightened. his voice came out lower, edged with something bitter. “...cause i’m pretty sure he likes liz.”

you stared at him for a second, the playful mood from earlier completely gone. it felt like the two of you were autumn. cold and warm air clashing, shifting from sunny to stormy, windy, and freezing in a matter of minutes.

“ah… okay? why are you telling me this?”

the words came out faster than his brain allowed them to. sunghoon shifted in his seat. “i don’t think he’s good for you. i mean… jake’s great as a friend, but he’s kind of all over the place. he doesn’t really commit to anything. one day he’s all in, the next he’s distracted by something new. i just don’t think he’d treat you—”

“sunghoon, stop.”

your voice was firm. sharp. 

you looked up at him with a frown—in confusion, disbelief, and disrespect that he just said that to your face. you gripped your purse tighter on your lap.

“he’s your friend. why are you saying all these things—? i don’t like this at all. you know how close we are.”

the silence that followed was heavy and awkward. 

you unbuckled your seatbelt quickly and opened the car door. “i’m going to pretend like i didn’t hear this at all.” before stepping out, you turned back to him one last time, expression tight and clearly, clearly, disappointed. 

“i’m really uncomfortable with you saying all this about jaeyun. um… thanks for the ride, anyway. goodnight.”

you closed the door with a soft but firm click and walked toward your house without looking back. sunghoon sat frozen in the driver’s seat for a second, staring at your retreating figure. 

“wait—fuck… shit…” he muttered under his breath. he quickly pressed the button to roll down the passenger window. “yn—!” he called out, but you had already disappeared. the door shut behind you with a thud.

the street fell silent again.

sunghoon leaned back heavily against the headrest, dragging both hands down his face. 

“what the fuck did i do…” he whispered to the empty car. “why did i do that… ugh, i’m so fucking dumb…”

his heart was pounding. the jealousy he wasn’t able to control that had been simmering all day had boiled over in the worst way possible. he’d badmouth his own bestfriend—jake, of all people—in front of you. the one person whose opinion mattered most to him. 

sunghoon groaned, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. 

“she’s never gonna look at me the same way again… fuck.”

the silence in the car felt suffocating. this was the most the car has been through since the last years sunghoon got it from his dad. his chest was tight, regret clawing at him from the inside. he needed something—anything—to take the edge off.

why the fuck did i say that? 

sunghoon knew why.

he reached down toward the glove box where he usually kept his pack of cigarettes. his slender fingers fumbled blindly in the dark, brushing against the small box before he fished it out without thinking. 

instead of his dark marlboro pack—it was a white box instead.

one wish willow. 

the illustration of the glowing branch stared back at him. the tagline at the bottom suddenly felt louder than it had in the shop. 

wishes do come true. be careful what you ask for.

oh. he was supposed to give this to you. 

sunghoon’s thumb brushed over the smooth packaging. his mind was still reeling of annoyance, disappointment, and that ugly twist of jealousy all mixing together. the way you defended jake so quickly. the way you looked at him with discomfort and disappointment before getting out of the car. the way you wanted to ask jake to go with you to the party.

his chest felt tight. his jaw clenched. if he were to keep and give it to you later, what would change? it won’t magically get rid of tonight.

sunghoon’s fingers tightened around the box, he turned it over and read the instructions printed on the back in that minimalistic, fun, red font:

usage:

hold the one wish willow gently with both hands. 

state your wish clearly and with intention.

break in half.

disposal: after granting your wish, the one wish willow loses its magical properties.

sunghoon mouthed the words as he read them, almost scoffing under his breath. 

he looked up toward the front door of your house, the porch lights still on. 

“as if…” he muttered, half bitter, half exhausted.

but his hands didn’t put the box down.

in the silence of the car, with the weight of the night pressing down and all the emotions came washing down upon him—sunghoon opened the box and held the small twig in both thumbs and indexes. 

wishes do come true.

be careful who you ask for.

his voice came out low, raw, and half–serious.

“i wish yn ln loved me more than anyone else in the fucking world.”

crack.

sunghoon broke the one wish willow in half. 

the sound was small and almost insignificant. like it was… nothing. a toy. a faint shimmer of something—dust? light? glitter?—seemed to sparkle for a split second before disappearing into thin air. 

sunghoon let out a drag, shaky breath and rested his forehead against the steering wheel, eyes closed.

the broken pieces of the willow sat in his lap.

a beat passed.

then a second.

then a whole minute.

nothing happened.

sunghoon let out a bitter scoff, tossing the broken pieces of the one wish willow onto the passenger seat. he wasn’t sure what he was hoping for—he bought it at a fuckin’ crystal toy store for fucks sakes. 

“fuck it,” he muttered. “should’ve known it was a scam anyway.”

he reached for the gear shift, ready to drive off—when a soft knock came from the passenger window.

shit—

sunghoon froze. through the glass, he saw the upper half of your body just standing there by his car. frowning slightly in confusion, he slowly rolled down the window.

it took you a few seconds to crouch down smoothly, elbows resting on the open window frame so your face was level with his. your eyes looked… different. not completely wrong, but off. a little too intense? a little too focused.

like something behind them was watching him more closely than usual.

you were probably still disappointed and bothered by it—and wanted to give sunghoon another warning. 

“uh, yn… hey,” sunghoon said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “i just… i just had to pull up directions.”

you didn’t respond right away. you just looked at him for a long second, head slightly tilted.

“you said you had something for me?” your voice was soft, almost too soft.

oh, crap—sunghoon glanced at the broken willow twig on the passenger seat. thank god it was so dark that you didn’t notice it. “oh yeah, i uh… i left it at my house.”

the silence that followed felt heavy. 

you visibly deflated a little, eyes dropping. “oh… okay…”

the quiet stretched. your fingers started tapping lightly on the window frame—slow, rhythmic, almost absentminded. the movement felt a little too precise. a little too repetitive. it’s almost like you didn’t want to get back inside.

sunghoon’s stomach twisted.

“i can bring it to work tomorrow…” he offered quietly, smiling.

you blinked slowly, then gave him a small nod. “um… okay…”

your voice dragged just slightly at the end. you stayed crouched there for another second, staring at him with the same unnervingly focused gaze. sunghoon swallowed the lump in his throat nervously, licking his lips. 

“well—uh, goodnight yn.” 

“wait, actually…” you tilted your head, eyes still locked on him. “um, i think you could use some company tonight. i mean, i did just lose my cat—”

sunghoon frowned. “...you lost your cat?”

you blinked again, like a glitch had passed through your expression. you shook your head, then quickly corrected yourself. “oh wait, i mean you lost your cat. i’m sorry… i’m so sorry for your loss.” your voice softened, but there was something oddly eager beneath. “what should we—are you—do you wanna come inside?”

sunghoon stared at you, visibly confused. his eyes flicked for a split second to the broken piece of the one wish willow. 

could it be…

“... are you okay?” 

you smiled—soft, almost too sweet. “are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m okay,” he answered slowly. 

“well… why don’t you come inside?” you offered again, fingers still lightly tapping the window frame. “we can—you know, talk about your cat and have a few drinks together.”

the invitation hung in the air. your eyes never left his face.

sunghoon rubbed his temple, trying to make sense of the situation. “yn, i’m a little confused…” he chuckled softly, dry. “i think you’re drunk.”

“no, i’m not,” you said quickly, almost defensively. “really.”

he sighed softly. “just… get some sleep, okay?”

that threw you off. 

“no, no, no.” you stood abruptly, crossing your arms over your chest. your posture was stiff, almost childlike in its stubbornness. “i know what you’re trying to do.”

sunghoon blinked. “what—?”

you didn’t answer. instead, you reached for the door handle, pulled it open, and slid back into the seat without warning. you sat directly on the broken pieces, the twig crunching faintly beneath you. 

“you’re trying to get rid of me,” you said, voice low but strangely intense, eyes fixed on him again.

sunghoon’s heart jumped. 

“what? no, no, no—” he stammered, hands lifting slightly in surrender and defense. he could never get rid of you as hard as he tried to. “i just—i just think you’re not in your right head right now.”

you pouted—a soft, almost childish expression crossing your face as you leaned over and pressed your cheek against the dashboard, eyes still locked on him.

sunghoon thought you were cute.

“i promise you i am…” you murmured. “i just… i feel really bad about your cat. you know how much i love cats, right? i don’t want you to be alone. and honestly… i don’t want to be alone either.”

sunghoon’s chest tightened. the way you said it—so vulnerable, so sincere. especially when you barely opened up to him like you did to jake—made something inside him soften despite his brain’s ringing warning bells.

“why? is everything okay?”

you stayed quiet for a moment, cheek still resting against the cool surface. then your voice came out smaller. “well… i don’t think my grandmother wants me around anymore…”

the words hit him harder than expected. your grandmother—? the same one who had been taking care of you since infancy? didn’t want you around anymore? you looked so small like this—curled slightly in his passenger seat, eyes glassy. sunghoon felt a strong wave of sympathy washing over him.

“oh… what? i—i’m sorry, yn… do you, um… wanna talk about it?”

you shook your head slowly, still not lifting your cheek from the dashboard.

“...not here.”

——

sunghoon wasn’t sure if you eventually convinced him, or if he convinced himself to let you come inside. 

the two of you walked into his house. the moment the door closed behind you, you looked around with wide, curious eyes. 

“your house is so nice…” you whispered, almost reverent as you took off your flats by the door. sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly self–conscious. had he known he was going to have you over—

“i like it here.”

he glanced at the lotion bottle on the coffee table.

“oh, thanks… it’s your first time here, right? i’m sorry if it’s not really that clean… i wasn’t expecting company tonight so—”

he didn’t even get to finish his sentence.

while sunghoon was still talking, you had already wandered off toward the kitchen like you knew your way around. that gave him the time to put the bottle somewhere else though. you stopped in the middle of the room, closing your eyes and breathing in deeply. 

“it smells like you.” you said softly.

sunghoon froze by the kitchen arch. 

“...me? like… bad?”

you turned to him with a small, dreamy smile and shook your head.

“no. it’s nice. i like it.”

warmth bloomed and spread through his chest despite everything. sunghoon had forgotten about the whole incident that happened in front of your house. he cleared his throat. 

“yn,” he paused, trying to regain some control of the situation. “you need some sleep, okay? i’ll get you some water.”

sunghoon moved toward the fridge, but you stayed standing in the middle of his kitchen, watching his every move with that same unnervingly soft gaze. sunghoon poured you a glass of cold water, standing in front of you as he held it up.

“here.”

you looked up to him. instead of taking it in your own hands, you wrapped your hands around his’ and brought the glass to your lips, taking a sip. 

a few minutes later, the two of you were in his bedroom.

you sat on the edge of his bed, still fully clothed, one leg hanging off the side, the other folded beneath your weight. sunghoon lingered in the doorway, like a father bidding goodnight. 

“i’m sorry if i was being weird earlier,” you said quietly. your finger traced the hem of your midi skirt. “i don’t know what was wrong with me.”

“it’s okay,” sunghoon replied, smiling. his voice gentle. “you don’t have to explain it. you’ve been through a lot, so just take all the time that you need, alright?”

you nodded slowly, looking small on his bed.

sunghoon looked around, unsure what to do before he reached over and turned off the main light switch, leaving only the tall floor lamp by the end of the room. the warm, dim lighting cast long shadows across the walls.

he was about to say goodnight and leave when your voice stopped him.

“wait.”

sunghoon turned back.

“will you sleep with me?”

sunghoon froze. “what?” 

he looked at the state of you on his bed—slightly disheveled, looking a bit like a pretty mess. “i don’t think i should…” 

you looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “please… i can’t be alone right now. i’ll get in my head if i’m in here by myself.”

a beat passed.

sunghoon felt a heavy wave of guilt and unsure–rity settled in his chest. he exhaled slowly.

“...yeah. i can do that.”

he kicked off his home slippers by the door. you didn’t waste a single second either—started undressing right there and then, peeling off your top and skirt. sunghoon quickly looked away out of respect, but the mirror in front of his bed betrayed him. he caught the reflection of your body as you stripped down to just your underwear. 

his throat tightened.

he wasn’t complaining. 

shit… your covered breasts behind your white bra was even better than your bare tits in his dream. sunghoon loved the fats in your body, the little, subtle childhood scars and marks. 

when you were done, he turned around and approached the bed slowly. sunghoon reached out and softly touched your arm, almost like he was making sure you were real and on his bed. you gently pulled him toward you.

the two of you ended up sitting against the headboard. he stiffened as you immediately curled into his side, placing your head on his shoulder and nuzzling closer, almost like a cat seeking warmth. one of your legs draped lightly over his as you got comfortable, letting out a soft, content hum.

“i needed this,” you whispered, voice low and breathy against his neck. 

sunghoon’s heart fluttered. he couldn’t contain his smile. “really?”

“mmhm…” you rubbed your cheek against his shoulder in a slow, affectionate motion. “i’m sorry about your cat again…” 

there was something almost feline in the way you moved—slow, seeking constant contact. you pressed closer, tits flushed against his bicep. it was like you wanted to melt to him, fingers tracing patterns on his chest like marking territory. 

sunghoon swallowed hard, one arm hesitantly wrapping around you. 

you shifted slightly, then gently took his chin between your pretty fingers and tilted his face toward yours. your eyes were half–lidded, lips parted as you leaned in.

sunghoon’s breath hitched. 

“wait—” he whispered, pulling back just slightly. “i… i think you’re drunk.”

you shook your head slowly, still holding his chin. your voice was soft, but steady. “i’m not. i promise.”

he gazed into your eyes. in the warm lamplight, they looked darker, deeper, almost… bottomless. for the first time, he saw—really saw—his reflection in your eyes and realised how much he had wanted this. 

how long sunghoon had ached for you. how badly he had needed you to look at him like this. all the longing, jealousy, nights thinking of you—it was at this moment that worthed it all. 

sunghoon must’ve been the easiest man ever—

he succumbed.

he leaned in and kissed you—slow at first, then deeper and more passionate. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with pent–up hunger. the kiss was hungry and desperate and full of everything he’d kept to himself.

you melted into it immediately, letting out a soft, needy sound against his mouth as your fingers curled into his shirt.

the two of you kissed. and kissed.

and the longer it went on, the more desperate it became. you climbed onto his lap, straddling him as your hands cupped his face. sunghoon’s hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, tugging onto the clasps of your bra.

he’s so lost in the heat of everything he’d wanted for so long.

his fingers gently touched the side of your neck.

and something in you snapped.

your eyes flew open. so wide it almost popped out of your socket. for a split second, the hazy, overly affectionate version of you vanished. you realised you were kissing sunghoon. half–naked. in his bed.

terror flooded your expression.

you shoved him back hard, scrambling off his lap and falling backward onto the floor with a loud thud. your back hit the floor.

“sunghoon—oh my god!” you gasped, eyes wide with horror as you stared up at him from the ground. 

sunghoon looked completely panicked, frozen at where he was. “what?! what, what?! holy shit?!”

you sat up quickly, covering your chest with your arms, face burning with embarrassment. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry! i’m so sorry—!”

“you kissed me!” sunghoon blurted out, voice cracking slightly. 

“i know!” 

the terror on your face melted away into an apologetic look. you stayed on the floor for  a moment, blinking up at him with wide, watery eyes. “i’m sorry… i’m so sorry…” you kept whispering, voice small.

sunghoon’s heart was beating so fast—still in shock, breathing hard.

“no, shit—what was that?!”

you flinched at his tone. “don’t yell at me… i don’t know… i thought i saw something!”

your eyes welled up with tears. the sudden switch made you emotionally raw, and the sudden outburst from him broke something in you. your lips trembled as tears started falling down your cheeks. 

sunghoon’s anger and confusion immediately crumbled into guilt. 

“...hey…” he quickly got off the bed and crouched down, gently pulling you up from the floor. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to yell.”

you let him lift you, still sniffing. “i really don’t know… it's a panic attack, i—i panicked.”

he sat back on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap like a baby—one arm wrapped around your back, the other cradling your head as he tucked you into his chest. 

“i—it’s okay, i was just—” he murmured, rubbing slow circles on your back. “i was just surprised… cause you kissed me first.”

you curled into him, burying your face in his neck, still letting out soft, hiccuping sobs. your arms wrapped tightly around him like you were afraid he’d disappear. sunghoon held you close, heart still racing.

when sunghoon felt your body relaxed, he kissed the top of your head.

“don’t do that next time…”

——

the next day at work felt strangely normal.

you and sunghoon stepped into the video rental store together after arriving at the same time—having rode the same car and all. the bell above chimed as you both entered. 

“oh, right. can i stay—”

before you could finish your sentence, the store manager, kim, appeared from the sides and immediately grabbed your arm, pulling you aside. “yn! i don’t know how many times i have to tell people we don’t sell porn here—”

the rest of her sentence was cut off as she dragged you away.

sunghoon barely had the time to process everything before jake popped right in front of him like a damn jack in the box. 

“ooooohhh?” jake grinned, wiggling suggestively. 

sunghoon’s eyes widened. “breakroom. breakroom. breakroom.”

he turned jake around and shoved his friend toward the staff breakroom just behind the entrance wall. once they were out of sight, jake turned on him. 

“what happened last night?”

sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. he tasted the words on the tip of his tongue, unsure how to put it in words. last night was… to blame on the alcohol. 

“you wouldn’t believe me.”

jake’s eyes widened. he couldn’t believe it—his childhood friend, and his bestfriend—that had been liking you for so long. finally—?

“you guys FUCKED?”

sunghoon’s eyes widened, and he was quick to slap a hand over jake’s mouth, muffling the loud exclamation. “oh my gosh, keep it down!” sunghoon hissed, glancing nervously around the room. “and no… we didn’t.”

jake pulled sunghoon’s hand off his mouth, looking suspicious. “then what the hell happened? you didn’t update us at all last night, and now you’re coming to work together? something’s fishy.”

sunghoon leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. “we just… we just slept together, that’s all.”

jake raised an eyebrow. “huh, okay.” then he grinned again. 

“well… how was she?”

“um, i don’t know…” sunghoon hesitated, looking visibly conflicted. “she’s… she’s acting weird last night.”

“weird? how?”

sunghoon paused, recalling the night in fragments. after the thing… that happened, sunghoon cuddled you to sleep, and you woke up the next day just fine. he dropped you off at your house to change, waited outside, then drove the two of you to work.

“well, first she said her grandma’s kicking her out.”

jake’s face instantly shifted from playful to shocked. “no way?” his voice dropped. “she’s been living with her grandma since we were kids. what happened?”

“i don’t know,” sunghoon admitted, shrugging. “we didn’t talk about it last night. but… she’s having like, this mental breakdown. she’d freak out one second, then be all happy and clingy the next, then start crying. it was… weird. really weird.”

jake stared at him, processing everything.

“damn… that doesn’t sound like her at all.”

sunghoon nodded slowly, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach. 

a beat of silence passed between them. 

“you think she’s on… molly again…?”

jake frowned deeply, crossing his arms. “she’s been sober for almost a year. she has no reason to… unless because of her grandma, that is.”  

“shit, maybe,” sunghoon muttered, rubbing his face. “i don’t know how to ask her though.”

“i’ll do it then,” jake said without hesitation. if anything, it’s weird jake didn’t know about it. you’d always come to him firsthand. sunghoon glanced toward the breakroom door, suddenly paranoid. 

“is she still staring?”

jake darted his eyes toward the entrance, peeking through the small gap in the door. he’s met with the sight of you standing behind the cashier machine, body looking forward, but head’s turned towards where jake and sunghoon’s conversation was taking place.

you were smiling.

“yeah.”

——

jake drove you home after work.

the moment he got back to his apartment, sunghoon dropped his bag, kicked off his shoes, and went straight to his computer. he opened a browser and typed into the search bar: does the one wish willow actually work?

u/sorrowfull: no it’s an urban legend. my cousin swore it worked but he was just high as fuck lol.

u/rik999: yeah it really granted a wish for me back in 2023!

u/godaddy: it’s not supposed to be used. my dad still has it unopened till now cause it’s just a collector thing. 

u/xuser: don’t even play with that thing lol i wished for braces cos my teeth was fucked and now theyre PERFECT

u/tickdrip: placebo effect at best. one can try though. 

sunghoon stared at the screen, conflicted and confused. he licked his lips, index finger tapping on the mouse like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. with a heavy sigh, he eventually shut his laptop, rubbing his face.

what the hell am i even doing…

for all he knew, his wish didn’t even come true, and it was just a coincidence. maybe you had a change of mind. maybe you finally had the courage to tell him you liked him. maybe—

knock knock. 

sunghoon whipped his head toward the door. it’s almost eleven, and he wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour. regardless, he walked over and opened it.

you—

you were standing there in a thin spaghetti strap black dress that hugged your figure beautifully, full makeup done perfectly—glossy lips, soft eyeshadow, curled lashes, flushed cheeks, the works. you looked stunning—it genuinely took him aback for a second.

“hi, hoonie,” you said softly, a shy smile on your face. 

“...yn? what’s up?” where are you going?” he asked, still a little stunned. 

you fidgeted with the hem of your dress, looking nervous. “i didn’t know what to wear…”

“what do you mean?”

you bit your lip, clearly nervous. 

“i—i’m really sorry about last night. jake told me what happened… you were freaked out—”

“no, no, it’s okay, yn!” sunghoon said quickly, waving his hands in front of him. you looked so cute and he was way too down to even regard everything last night as odd. even if it was. 

you stayed in the doorway for a moment, then swallowed the lump in your throat. “i probably shouldn’t have taken anything…”

a beat.

sunghoon blinked. “huh?”

you looked up at him. the outside light behind you made your eyes look darker than it already was. “yeah… i, um, i was on mdma and i was drunk. but i promise… no more.”

“right, okay…” sunghoon said slowly, trying to process everything. he knew you’d taken drugs before, but he never knew it was this bad. “well, do you remember… stuff?”

you stayed quiet for a second, eyes lowered. 

“most of it, yeah,” you finally answered. “if i was weird… it was because of the stuff i’m going through. i didn’t mean it…”

sunghoon’s eyes narrowed with a clear disappointment. your gaze shifted, a flicker of concern crossing your face as you noticed his reaction. 

he looked away for a moment. 

“...oh. okay.”

you took a small step closer.

“also… i want to be transparent about some things."

sunghoon’s heart spiked. out of pure fear—fear of being rejected, fear of hearing you say it was all a mistake, that you didn’t mean any of it, that you two should just go back to being friends and nothing more, or worse stopped being friends at all—

he quickly cut in.

“you don’t have to explain—”

“i know you like me.”

the words hit him like a truck.

sunghoon froze, quickly thrown off.

“no—i—why? what?”

your face dropped instantly. the hopeful, nervous expression you’d been wearing shattered into something vulnerable and raw, like you’d… just been rejected on the spot.

then, after a heavy beat of silence and unspoken things, sunghoon began, voice quieter. 

“...do you like me?”

you looked up at him, eyes soft and vulnerable. 

“would it freak you out if i said yes?”

a long beat passed. 

it was an oddly romantic moment—the kind you only see in movies. sunghoon stared at you, completely caught off guard. his lips parted slightly in surprise. then, slowly, a shy, disbelieving smile spread across his face as he let out a soft chuckle, almost like he couldn’t believe this was real. 

he rubbed the back of his neck, voice quiet.

“how long have you felt this way?”

you shifted on your feet, nervous but honest. “it happened over time… maybe with all the time we hung out, and by the time i knew it, i just—” you looked at him, head tilted, searching his face. 

“don’t you have feelings for me?”

sunghoon covered his mouth with his hand for a second, shy and overwhelmed. this was the moment he had dreamed about for so long—late nights wondering if you’d ever look at him the way he looked at you, replaying every small interaction in his head, wishing for exactly…

this.

“yeah,” he finally admitted. “i do.”

your face softened. you stepped closer, gently tugged the front of his shirt, and wrapped your arms around him. sunghoon didn’t hesitate. he hugged your back tightly, one arm around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head. you stood there in the doorway, holding each other like the world didn’t exist.

after a long moment, he pulled back just enough to whisper against your hair, 

“do you wanna sleep over tonight?”

——

sunghoon slammed you against the wall, kissing you fiercely. all the months of longing, stolen glances, and quiet admiration poured out in that single moment. his mouth was hungry, desperate, claiming yours like he’d been starving for you. 

his hands roamed your body—one gripping your waist, the other sliding up your thigh, pushing the hem of your black dress higher. 

“ah, babe—” you moaned into his mouth, hands fisting his shirt as you kissed him back just as desperately. the pent–up lust between you was explosive. sunghoon groaned, grinding against you as he pulled the top of your dress along with your bra, exposing your pretty tits. 

his mouth left yours to trail hot, open–mouthed kisses down your neck, then lower, sucking and biting at your skin while his hands squeezed and caressed your perky nipples. 

you arched into him, gasping, fingers tangled in his locks.

“f—fuck, hoonie…”

sunghoon was losing himself completely—the way you tasted, the way you sounded, the way your body responded to every touch. he wanted to devour you. whole and full. wanted to mark you. wanted you to be his in every possible way.

then, mid–moan, your pearly eyes locked with his.

your eyes widened like it was going to bulge out—expression shifted to sheer panic.

with a frantic shove, you pushed him hard. sunghoon stumbled backward onto the bed as you let out a blood–curling scream, body trembling violently. almost instantly, you hugged your body, colour drained from your body. 

“sunghoon, what the fuck?!”

he remained on the bed, shocked and unfazed for a split second—still breathing hard, lips swollen from kissing you. your lipstick stained the corner of his lips.

but within moments, the switch flipped again.

you crawled on top of him like nothing had happened, straddling his waist and sitting on his stomach. your wetness through your thin panties rubbed against his skin as you leaned down and kissed him again, deep and possessive—like you couldn’t bear even a second of separation. 

sunghoon didn’t question it. the disturbance registered as nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience.

you pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, 

“sorry, baby…”

sunghoon smiled, hands sliding up your thighs, lifting up your dress until the pooled around your waist.

“it’s okay, baby,” he murmured, voice husky. “molly effect, hm?”

you giggled softly, nuzzling into his neck like a contented critter—pressing warm kisses along his jaw. 

the two of you kissed again—slower this time, but no less hungry. your hands roamed his chest, then lower, until you slid down between his knees. sunghoon’s breath hitched as you settled on the floor in front of him, looking up at him with those dark, adoring eyes.

sunghoon couldn’t believe this was happening.

you reached for his belt, undoing it with clumsy but eager fingers. when you freed him—his cock was curvy and at a perfect size, if not slightly bigger, for a lean man like sunghoon. it throbbed visibly in the air between you, the tip already glistening with beads of precum.

“s—shit, baby, look how hard you made me…”

you smiled, leaning to press a soft kiss to the tip first, almost reverent. your lips brushed against the sensitive head as you murmured, warm air hitting the slit. 

“you’re so big…”

you kept kissing the tip tenderly like it’s his lips—then dragged your tongue slowly across it, licking up the beads of precum with a soft, satisfied hum. the taste of him seemed to spur you on. you opened your mouth wider and took him in—slow at first, letting your tongue swirl around the head before sinking down further. 

sunghoon let out a low groan, head falling back for a second. “fuck…” 

his hand gently threading through your hair as you worked him with passionate, wet strokes. your mouth was hot and eager, sucking with just the right amount of pressure while your hand stroked what you couldn't fit. you moaned around him, the vibrations sending up sparks up his spine. 

“fuck… just like that, baby…” he whispered, hips twitching slightly but holding back, letting you set the pace. you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes watery but full of devotion as you took him deeper—hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head. 

then, you pulled back just enough to catch a breather—lips glossy. 

“i’ve never done this before…”

sunghoon’s eyes widened, breath ragged.

“at all?”

you tilted your head, a small, hazy smile on your face. your hands continued to jerk him off back and forth, catching your own slicky saliva on your grip. 

“mmm… i think so?”

there was a strange, fleeting disconnect in your works—like your memories were clashing with one another. but sunghoon was too far gone to question it. 

you leaned back in, taking him deeper again. the wet heat of your mouth, the way you moaned around him, the way you looked up at him like pleasing him was the only thing that mattered was overwhelming. 

his breathing grew heavier, low groans slipping out as you worked him with sensual devotion. 

sunghoon’s breathing grew heavier. low, broken groans slipped from his throat as your head bobbed, tongue swirling around the underside of his cock while your hand stroked the base. every so often you’d pull back to kiss and lick the wet tip, almost in a teasing manner before sinking down again.

“baby,” he rasped, fingers tightening in your hair. “you’re so good at this… feels so fucking good.”

the sight of you on your knees, lips stretched around him, tits wet with your drippy saliva—it was better than any dream he’d had. imagining this exact moment, paled in comparison to the real thing—he was losing himself completely. 

his hips started twitching, thighs sensing as pleasure coiled tighter and tiger in his tummy. “hngh—baby…” he groaned, voice strained. “i need to be inside you.”

sunghoon pulled you up slightly with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen. without a word, you climbed back onto the bed and laid down, pulling him on top of you.

he hovered over you, drinking in the sight. you looked breathtaking underneath him—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, hair fanned out prettily on his pillow, black dress bunched around your waist. your tits rose and fell with every quick breath, nipples hardened from arousal. your legs spread for him, panties pushed to the side. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion as he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance. “i’ve been wanting to tell you that for so long.”

you giggled shyly,  biting your lip as you looked up at him.

“come on… love me.”

“i do love you,” sunghoon breathed. 

then he pushed in. 

the first thrust was slow but deep, stretching you open around his curved length. you gasped, back arching slightly as he bottomed out. sunghoon groaned, forehead pressing against yours. 

“fuck… you’re so tight.” 

you moaned softly, nails digging into his shoulders.

“you’re my first—oh gosh, you’re my first…”

that single sentence sent a bolt of raw heat through him. sunghoon’s hips snapped forward harder, fucking you deeper strokes. the thought that he was your first—that no one else had ever had you like this—made something primal inside him snap.

he thrusted harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room along with your moans and his groans. 

 it was going good—your pussy was tight and heavenly, and sunghoon had never felt a hold other than his hand so good like this. but then—

you suddenly laughed—a bright, almost delirious sound—and tilted your head back, arching your back as pleasure overtook you.

it freaked sunghoon out a little.

your body convulsed underneath him as uncontrollable giggles spilled from your lips. your eyes rolled back, whites showing for a terrifying second, like you found this whole situation fucking hilarous. 

it was wrong. inhumane, almost. 

his hand shot up instinctively, wrapping around your throat—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to pin you down and stop the violent twitching. 

“no, no… don’t do that, baby,” he rasped, still buried deep inside you, hips faltering for a moment. “stay with me—look at me.”

the laughter cut off abruptly.

your body went still. then your eyes rolled back into place, focusing on him again. the eerie, too–wide smile slowly softened back into normal. the smile he loved so much. sunghoon’s cock tip then kissed the gummy spot inside you, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“hngh—!” you gasped, eyes momentarily shut in pleasure before they opened again, finding his—but not entirely looking. 

“...sorry, baby,” you whispered sweetly, blinking.

      part two of two

ㅤ© ⌞hoonkitti⌝ ⁞ all rights reservedㅤ please don't share, copy, or translate my work.

You hear him before you see him—always the same: the hurried shuffle of too-big shoes, the frantic slam of a shoulder against the swinging glass door, and the apologetic murmur of “Morning” that barely beats out the time clock.

You don’t even look up from your monitor. “It’s 9:47.”

Sunghoon wheezes into his cubicle—which, of course, is right next to yours. His tie is crooked, his glasses fogged, and his hair’s got a single, infuriatingly perfect curl bouncing on his forehead like it was placed there by angels. 

“Yeah,” He huffs. “Sorry. There was traffic.”

There’s always traffic in Metropolis. But that excuse is wearing thin, especially when he is the only one in the building who acts like he has to physically leap over it. 

You finally glance up, deadpan. “You know who else got stuck in traffic today? Me. Chaewon. The kid from copy who literally rides a unicycle to work. We all still made it to work on time.”

He runs a hand through his hair and smiles sheepishly, like that’s supposed to mean something. And somehow, it always does—with everyone else. Chaewon laughs it off. Riki yells, but only half-heartedly. Even Jake calls him “Jeolla” like it’s an inside joke and not an indictment of his hometown and somehow his incompetence. 

But you?

You are not charmed.

You’re Gotham born and bred. You’ve filed stories from under police tape, from fire escapes, from alleys where the blood was still wet. You didn’t claw your way out of that city just to share a byline with a man who treats deadlines like vague suggestions and shows up to work looking like he just wrestled a tornado.

Again!

“You’ve been late every day this week, Park,” You mutter, turning back to your monitor. “If you’re aiming for a record, congrats. You’re winning.”

He’s quiet for a beat. You think you’ve shut him up, finally. But then—“I’ve never really been good at winning things,” He says softly, almost like he’s talking to himself. 

You glance at him from the corner of your eye. There’s something about the way he says it, not pathetic. Just… strange. Like maybe he means something bigger. You almost ask. 

Almost.

Instead, you scoff and shake your head. “Try winning a Pulitzer. Might help your case.”

He grins again, that irritating, dimpled grin, and unpacks his bag like he didn’t walk in almost an hour later. You hate that he’s always late. You hate that nobody seems to care. You hate that he never has a good excuse, but still somehow gets away with it.

And most of all?

You hate that you’re starting to care enough to notice.

2 ── You hate his "aw shucks" act.

If Park Sunghoon’s lateness is a thorn in your side, then his personality is the knife twisting next to it. 

Not that it’s a bad personality, exactly. That’s the problem. On paper, he’s the perfect coworker—polite, humble, well-liked by every living soul in the building. He holds elevators. He offers to do coffee runs even when it’s pouring. He once helped Heeseung from Archives fix the jammed printer with nothing but a safety pin and a hopeful smile.

People adore him. They smile when he walks into the room. Laugh at his dumb jokes. Trust him. 

You do not.

Because you’ve been watching. You’ve been taking mental notes since week two. That “aw shucks, I’m just a small-town guy from Jeolla” routine is too well rehearsed. No one is that gentle and that oblivious. No one stammers through meetings and then turns in a perfect copy by the end of the day. No one is that clumsy—spilling coffee, tripping over wires—and yet somehow always lands on their feet.

You didn’t come from Gotham to fall for the world’s oldest trick.

So when he chuckles nervously after Chaewon slaps him on the back for landing a quote from the Steel Syndicate leader—a quote you had been chasing for a week—you grit your teeth and mutter:

“Oh, give me a break!”

Sunghoon turns to you, blinking. “Sorry?”

You don’t bother to fake it. “You play the ‘golly gee’ routine, but you’re sharper than you act. And frankly, it’s annoying.”

His brows knit behind his glasses. “I’m not acting.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Right. You just accidentally out-interviewed me and walked away with the best lead we’ve had all quarter.”

He laughs, scratching the back of his neck, all bashful. “I really wasn't trying to one-up you. I just—I guess he liked me?”

You scoff. “Of course he did,” You mumble. “Everyone does. Must be the charm of your down-home, butter-wouldn’t-melt-bullshit!”

“I’m from Jeolla, not Nebraska,” He says, like that explains everything.

You lean forward across your desk, voice low. “I’ve met people from Jeolla. They don’t act like they’ve never heard someone curse before.”

Sunghoon shrinks back slightly, like your words sting, but there’s a twitch of something else in his eyes—like he’s fighting a smile.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse,” He offers gently.

You narrow your eyes. “I save it for when I’m alone. Or keep it in my head. Like right now, for example. Internally? It’s a full symphony of four-letter words.”

He snorts, an actual snort, then claps a hand over his mouth like he’s embarrassed by it. That’s when you realize something terrifying. He’s not pretending to be harmless.

He is harmless.

And that somehow makes it worse.

Because no one is harmless in this job. Not in journalism. Not in Metropolis. Especially not if they’re good at it. And Sunghoon? Despite the dopey smile, the apologies, the way he trips over every desk in the bullpen. Sunghoon is very good at it.

You hate that his small town bullshit works. You hate that it makes people underestimate him. You hate that it almost worked on you. But the worst part? You’re starting to realize it’s not an act. It’s who he is.

And that makes you want to scream.

3 ── You hate how he somehow always gets the exclusive.

There’s something sacred about how the word exclusive in a newsroom. It’s the holy grail—the thing that earns you front pages, corner offices, Pulitzers. You’ve chased exclusives down back alleys, stayed on hold for eons, bribed a coffee-stained secretary with two croissants and a MetroCard just to get one measly quote from a crooked city councilman

But somehow, Park Sunghoon just gets them.

Every. Fucking. Time.

He never brags. That would at least make him bearable. He just shows up—late, of course—shrugs off his coat, and drops a crisp interview transcript on Riki’s desk like he tripped over it on the sidewalk.

It’s infuriating.

You first noticed it during the Union Square train derailment. Superman was spotted hauling survivors out of the wreckage. No reporters got near him. Police kept everyone back. Even Chaewon couldn’t get close. And she's Chaewon!

But the next morning?

There it was: Superman Speaks on Metropolis Disaster by Park Sunghoon.

You stared at the byline like it had personally offended you. Your fingers hovered over your keyboard as you read the quote—exclusive, lengthy, insightful. Too insightful.

“He said that?” You asked Sunghoon across the bullpen.

Sunghoon blinked. “Uh, yeah. He flew by while I was walking back from a source.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And what, he just… pulled you into the sky for a heart-to-heart?”

Sunghoon smiled, bashful. “We’ve talked a few times.”

You nearly choked on your burnt coffee.

A few times?

Since then, it’s been quote after quote. Superman says this. Superman warns that. Every piece is conveniently labeled “as told to Park Sunghoon.” You’ve pitched a dozen stories with solid leads, real impact, and Riki still passes them over in favor of Sunghoon’s Superman exclusives.

You’ve tried to ask how he does it. Casually. Aggressively. Once while both of you were on a stakeout at a warehouse near Suicide Slums, you even offered him your last protein bar if he’d just tell you how the hell he keeps finding Superman.

Sunghoon just smiled. That soft, maddeningly patient smile, and said, “I think he trusts me.”

Trusts him.

Like Superman sits around rating journalists on a Yelp scale.

You stare across the bullpen now, watching Sunghoon quietly type something into his terminal. He looks like a librarian. One of those sleepy, gentle ones who offer you a tissue when you cry reading To Kill a Mockingbird. 

And yet somehow, he gets the hero in blue to spill his guts.

You hate it.

You hate that it makes you question your own work. You hate that you keep looking for the cracks in his story, the thing that explains how he’s doing this. You’ve doubled-checked timestamps. Scrubbed security footage. Asked sources. Nothing adds up. 

No one sees Sunghoon talking to Superman.

And yet Sunghoon knows things. Small details. Direct quotes. Reassurances Superman has never given anyone else.

You lean back in your chair and stare at the ceiling. Either Park Sunghoon is the luckiest man in Metropolis… or he’s hiding something.

And you don’t believe in luck.

4 ── You hate that he doesn't talk shit.

Newsrooms run on gossip.

That’s just a fact.

You don’t survive in this field—not in this city—without learning to weaponise information. It’s part of the culture. You swap barbs while the coffee brews, trade snark over late-night edits, hurl critiques and conspiracies like dodgeballs. Everyone does it. It keeps you sane. Keeps you sharp.

Except Sunghoon.

Sunghoon doesn’t talk shit.

At first, you assumed it was a tactic. A kind of passive power play, let everyone else tear each other down while he keeps his hands clean and his halo polished. You even waited for him to crack. Made space for it.

Chaewon stormed past your desks muttering, “If I have to rewrite one more of Franklin’s clickbait trash, I swear to God—” and you turned to Sunghoon, ready.

Nothing.

He just said, “Franklin’s trying to juggle two kids and night school. He’s doing the best he can.”

You blinked. “That’s your take? Really?”

Sunghoon smiled, easy. “Well, it’s not like yelling about it helps.”

You stared at him for a full beat, then scoffed. “Wow. How do you make ‘reasonable’ sound so smug?”

He laughed. Not mocking. Not defensive. Just… amused.

It keeps happening.

Gina in Copy fakes sick twice in one week to go see her boyfriend in Coast City. Nobody buys it. You expect Sunghoon to at least comment. Something gentle, like “Must be nice to have a love life” but he just covers her calls without being asked.

When Jungwon blows a quote in a city council interview, you hear three people mutter about it near the break room. Sunghoon hears too. You watch his eyes flick in that direction, but he doesn’t engage. He just brings Jungwon a coffee the next morning with no explanation.

You don’t get it.

You’ve worked with assholes and saints and everything in between. But there’s always a crack. A vent. A gripe. A single “Jesus Christ, can you believe this guy?” at happy hour.

Sunghoon? He smiles, he listens. He takes the fall for other people's mistakes, and never once asks for anything in return.

It’s not that he’s quiet. He barks. He just doesn’t bite. 

You should hate it. Actually, no, you do hate it.

Because it makes you feel mean. Makes you feel like every time you roll your eyes or mutter something under your breath, you’re the one slinging mud at a guy who just… doesn’t throw it back.

He’s not better than you. That’s what you tell yourself. He’s not better. He’s just boring. But that’s not true, is it?

Because when Carol’s mom lands in the hospital, he’s the one who quietly organizes a grocery drop-off.

When Riki has a meltdown over a typo in the Sunday headline, Sunghoon doesn’t flinch. He just calmly fixes it. Compliments the new intern’s formatting, and reminds Riki to breathe.

When you come in one morning with three hours of sleep and that coil, pre-caffeine snarl already at your lips, he places a black coffee on your desk without saying a word.

You hate how it makes your chest tighten.

You hate that he makes kindness look easy—not loud or performative or fake, just… part of him.

You hate that you’re starting to notice how often his eyes go soft when someone’s having a bad day.

You hate how your shoulders drop just a little when he walks in.

You hate how, for all the ways he frustrates you, he never gives you a real reason to hate him back.

You tap your pen against your notebook and glances at him—across the bullpen, bent over his desk, tie askew, glasses sliding down, that same stupid curl on his forehead. He’s reading something, mouth twitching like he might laugh, and you watch him longer than you mean to.

You shake yourself.

No.

This is just a strategy. Observation. Knowing your competition. It’s not softness. It’s not a crush. It’s not a slow-burn, late-blooming kind of fondness, the kind that sneaks up on you when you’re too tired to fight it.

It’s not.

You just hate that he doesn’t talk shit. That’s all.

5 ── You hate how he remembers everything you say.

You’re not the type of person who expects people to remember things.

You’ve had too many conversations die halfway through a sentence. Too many men nod politely, only to ask you the same question a week later like they never heard your answer the first time. You’ve learned to file your words under ‘for now’—disposable, temporary, forgettable.

Park Sunghoon doesn’t see it that way.

You noticed it during your first lunch break, maybe two weeks in. You’d been ranting—venting, truly—about how every salad in Metropolis comes pre-drenching in some sort of smug artisanal vinaigrette. You weren’t even talking to him. Just muttering to yourself while stabbing a piece of limp kale in the breakroom.

The next day, he passed you a plain turkey sandwich from the deli on 6th and said, “They don’t just dressing unless you ask. Though you might like it.”

You blinked at him

“You remembered that?” You asked, caught off guard.

Sunghoon shrugged with a smile. “You seemed passionate.”

You were half convinced it was a fluke. But it wasn’t.

Because the pattern kept happening.

You mentioned once—once—that your favorite weather is when it rains but the sun’s still out. A week later, during one of those golden, misty drizzles, he caught up to you on the steps and said, “Looks like your kind of day, huh?”

You told him offhandedly that your least favorite movie trope is the girl tripping while running. Three nights later, you passed each other in the hallways after working late, and he asked if you’d seen the new action flick in theaters. “No tripping heroines, I promise.”

You said that once your dad used to call you ‘kid’ and that no one’s used the word since.

He’s never called you that. But you catch him hesitating once. Mid-sentence. Like it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it.

You don’t know how to feel about that.

Because you never asked him to remember. You never wanted him to.

You’ve known people who remember birthdays because Facebook reminds them. Or likes and dislikes so they can use them later. But Sunghoon? He never uses it. He just stores it. Quietly. Thoughtfully. Like your words matter. Like they’re puzzle pieces he’s collecting, not to solve you, but to understand you.

And maybe that’s what bothers you most.

Because no one’s ever tried to understand you.

Not really.

Gotham trained you to guard your secrets with blood. To keep your walls high, your smile sarcastic, your stories brief and impersonal. But Sunghoon listens like he’s trying to paint a picture of you in his head, one brushstroke at a time.

And you despise it.

You hate that it makes you feel seen. 

You hate that it makes you feel real.

You hate that it makes you wonder how much you’ve remembered about him.

You glance at his desk. Same stupid Superman bobblehead he swore he didn’t buy himself. Same chipped I Heart Korea mug. Same pair of extra reading glasses tucked into the drawer, just in case.

You remember that he doesn’t like spicy food. That he uses semicolons like they’re going out of style. That he hums the theme from Star Wars when he’s writing something he’s proud of.

You remember way too much.

So maybe you don’t hate that he remembers everything you say. Maybe you hate that you’ve started doing it too.

6 ── You hate that he looks at you like he sees you.

There’s a kind of look people give you when they think they know who you are.

Back in Gotham, it was always the same—calculating, wary, sometimes impressed. You were the youngest on the crime desk, the loudest in the pitch room, the one with the sharpest elbows and the thinnest armor. People look at you like a problem to solve or a rival to beat.

But that’s not how Sunghoon looks at you. He looks at you like you’re someone. Not a headline. Not a byline. Not the girl from Gotham with a chip on her shoulder and a pen like a scalpel.

Just you.

And it drives you batshit crazy.

Because it’s not just in meetings, when you sneak up and catch his gaze across the table—it’s in the little moments. When you’re half-asleep at your desk and he walks by with a fresh coffee. When you’re biting your tongue in an argument and he gives you a look like he already knows what you want to say. When you laugh—really laugh—and you see him watching like it’s a rare event he doesn’t want to interrupt.

It’s too much. Too soft. Too honest. You don’t want to be known like that. Not by him. Not by anyone.

But he keeps doing it. Like it’s effortless. Like seeing you, the real you, the messy and angry and guarded parts is just what happens when he looks at someone.

And you hate that you notice it. And you hate that some small, quiet part of you never wants him to stop.

7 ── You hate how nervous he makes you feel.

You’re not nervous around people.

You’ve been yelled at by corrupt mayors. Cornered by gang members for writing the wrong names in the right story. You’ve told a Gotham crime boss to spell his name correctly if he wants to be quoted. You know how to stand your ground, spine straight, heart steady.

But Sunghoon makes you so nervous that you might shit your pants.

Not in the usual nervous way—not in the way bad people do. He doesn’t threaten or belittle or hover too close. No, Sunghoon stands a respectful distance away and still somehow manages to get under your skin. He fidgets when you talk. He laughs at your sarcasm. He listens like he’s memorizing you on purpose. 

And lately… you’ve been messing things up.

You dropped your pen the other day. Three times. In one meeting.

You forgot what you were saying mid-sentence when he looked at you—just looked at you—like the whole room had gone quiet except for you.

You called him Sunghoon and it came out soft, almost breathless, and it startled you. Like your mouth knew something your brain just hadn’t caught up with yet.

When you brushed against him near the elevator, shoulder to shoulder, your pulse stuttered. Not fear. Not irritation. Something else. Then it hit you.

You like him.

God, you like him.

You like his stupid glasses and his kind eyes and the way he always holds the door for people even when they don't say thank you. You like the way he scribbles notes in the margins of his reporter’s notebook and the way he lights up when someone says the words human interest. You like that he takes his job seriously without ever acting like he’s the smartest man in the room.

You like that he’s good. You trust him. And that might scare you more than anything else on this planet.

You hate that he makes you nervous, because it means your guard is down. And you never let your guard down. Especially not for someone like him. Especially not when he might possibly, slightly, maybe, feel the same way.

Because if he does.. if he does… you’re not sure what happens now.

8 ── You hate that he's Superman.

You almost died today.

Not in the dramatic, flashing-lights-before-your-eyes kind of way. More like sudden and sharp. One second, you were walking past LexCorp Tower with a coffee in hand. The next, the sky cracked open with a sound like the earth tearing apart, and something enormous. A ship? A drone? It spiraled out of control and straight into the street.

You didn’t scream. Not at first. Your body froze instead, the kind of instinct that Gotham should’ve removed. Get big, get loud. Scare the monster away from you.

But flight or fight invited a friend to the party. Fawn. And she told you not to move a muscle. To get small. Get still. And pray to Jesus of Nazareth that the monster passes.

It didn’t.

It was coming right for you.

And then, just like every headline you’d ever written about him, Superman was there.

He was a blur at first. Then red. Then blue. Then everything stopped. The drone crumpled against the pavement thirty feet away, a crater the size of a bus sinking into the asphalt. Wind whipped around you, debris in your hair, your coffee exploded on the ground. And in the center of it all, standing perfectly fine like the chaos had bent around him on purpose—

Him. 

Superman.

He turned to you, eyes impossibly soft for someone who could tear steel apart with his bare hands. “Are you hurt?”

You nodded dumbly. Maybe you shook your head. You don’t remember. Your voice wasn’t working.

He gave you a smile, the kind that should’ve made you feel safe. It did. But it also unsettled something deep in your chest. Almost like recognition.

He took off again in a gust of air and cape and godlike power, and you stood there shaking, your hands empty.

That night, you sat cross-legged on your couch with the local news running in the background, half-heartedly typing notes for tomorrow’s article. You watched grainy footage of Superman returning a flaming car to the street like it was a paper toy. You watched people cheering, waving, chanting his name.

You knew he was a hero. You knew he’d saved countless lives. But seeing him up close? Feeling the air shift around him, the sheer weight of him?

It rattled you.

And yet, what kept circling in your brain wasn’t just the blur of the cape or the force of the landing. It was his eyes.

The way he looked at you.

Like he knew you. Like he saw you.

And then your fingers stopped moving.

Because you’d seen that look before.

Early this week. At the Daily Planet. In the elevator, when you’d complained about the vending machine eating your dollar. 

Sunghoon had looked at you like that.

You stared at the paused frame on your screen. Superman mid-turn, mid-expression.

You grabbed your phone, opened the gallery. A photo Jungwon had taken at Chaewon’s birthday last month. Sunghoon, standing beside you with that same crooked smile. Same jawline. Same posture.

Your heart sank.

No.

You looked again. 

You zoomed in.

And all at once, every thing—every late arrival, every exclusive quote, every ‘You okay?’ after a tremor, every ‘How did he know?’—every moment fell into place like puzzle pieces you’d been too close to see. 

Park Sunghoon is Superman.

You sat there frozen, blinking at the screen as a sick kind of heat spread through your chest. You hate that he’s Superman.

Not because he’s dangerous. Not because he lied—though God, he did.

You hate it because you were just starting to fall for Sunghoon. Sweet, awkward, late-to-everything Sunghoon. Now you’re not sure where Sunghoon ends and Superman begins.

And worst of all? You’re not sure which one of them you’re in love with.

9 ── You hate how he touches you.

You told yourself it was for the story.

That inviting Sunghoon over to your apartment—late, after deadline, with a six-pack in the fridge and the lights dimmed just enough to feel casual—was a journalistic strategy. You even made a notepad with scribbled questions, highlighted sources in your phone, and pulled up three articles from the Planet’s archive as “references.”

But deep down, you knew exactly what you were doing.

Sunghoon knocked once. Polite. Timid. He always knocked like he didn’t want to disturb you, even when he had to enter the bullpen three minutes before a press conference with ink on his tie. You opened the door and didn’t let yourself look too long at the way his glasses slid down his nose or how the sleeves of his white button-down were rolled to his forearms.

He stepped in, soft-voiced as ever. “You said you needed help with something?”

“An article,” You said, breezy. “About Superman.”

And God, you said his name like a test.

Sunghoon blinked. Just once. Just barely. But you caught it.

You offered him a beer. You talked. You took notes on nothing. And he sat there—not relaxed, exactly, but trying to act like he was. He always had this charming nervousness to him. But now that you knew—knew—it wasn’t nerves. It was restraint. It was a man constantly folding himself into something smaller to pass unnoticed.

You kept waiting for him to lie.

He didn’t.

So you forced his hand.

You said it like it didn’t cost you anything: “You’re Superman.”

Silence. Stillness. The longest pause you’d ever heard.

He didn’t deny it.

He didn’t laugh it off.

He just looked at you.

And it was like the air in the room shifted. Something cracked open between you. Not hostile. Not afraid. Just honest.

“You’ve known?” He asked quietly.

“I figured it out after the LexCorp thing. The way you looked at me.”

He closed his eyes. Like he was trying to protect you from something—or maybe protect himself from what he already knew was coming next.

“I never meant to lie,” He said. “Not to you.”

“But you did,” You replied. “Every day.”

And you should’ve been furious. You should’ve thrown him out. Written the article. Exposed everything. But you didn’t.

Because all you could think about was the way he looked at you in the cratered street. The way he always hovered a second longer when your hands brushed. The way he saw you—really saw you—even before you ever knew who he was.

And the way he touched you now, when he reached across the table to cover your hand with his own—gentle, grounding, warm.

You hated it.

You hated the way the contact burned up your arm and across your chest like he’d set your blood alight. You hated how steady it felt, how calm, how wanted. You hated the way it made you lean in, just slightly, like gravity was tugging you toward him.

“You’re mad,” He said.

“I should be.”

He swallowed. “Are you?”

You looked at him—really looked—and saw all of it. The weight of two lives. The softness behind the cape. The man who brought you coffee when you were hungover. The man who pulled a collapsing building off a school bus.

Park Sunghoon. Superman. Both. All.

And you hated that he made you feel like this. Hated the way his fingers curled around yours like he’d been waiting to do it for months. Hated that your heart was pounding so loud you were afraid he could hear it.

You stood.

He stood too.

You should’ve said something. Pulled back. Cut it off.

But when he stepped forward, eyes locked on yours—when he hesitated, like he needed your permission—and when you didn’t stop him—

His mouth met yours, and the world dropped out.

You hated the way it made you forget every single reason you were supposed to hate him. Hated the way his hands were patient, reverent, like he was memorizing the shape of you. Hated the way you melted into him like you’d done this a thousand times in another life.

You hated the sound you made when he pressed you gently against the wall. Hated the tremble in your breath when his lips found the spot just beneath your jaw. Hated how badly you wanted him—and not just the cape. Not just the secret.

Him.

Sunghoon.

You pulled him closer.

And in that moment, you didn’t hate anything at all.

You didn’t mean for it to go this far. You meant to confront him. To unearth the truth. To hold him accountable. 

But now his hands are at your waist—warm, grounding, familiar—and he’s kissing you like he’s spent decades thinking about it. Like he’s imagined it in quiet mornings between bylines and burning buildings. Like it’s the one indulgence he never allowed himself to have.

Your fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt. “Tell me to stop,” He breathes against your skin. You don’t. Because you’ve wanted this. Hated how much you’ve wanted this.

Not just tonight. Not just since he walked through your apartment door with that bashful smile and that stupid, careful politeness like he didn’t have a goddamn clue you were about to wreck both of your lives.

No, you’ve wanted this since the second week at the Planet. And you’ve finally got it.

You fist his shirt and push him back against the wall, chest heaving, and when he looks at you with wide eyes and his lips parted, looking so vulnerable in a way that makes your throat ache, something inside of you snaps.

“You’re such a fucking liar.”

His breath stutters. “I didn’t want to—”

You cut him off with your mouth.

And that’s all it takes.

The kiss is desperate. Messy. Teeth knocking, breath uneven. His hands roam over you like he’s been starving for it, like he’s been dreaming about this for years. One palm slides up your back, the other fists in your hair, and you moan against his lips before biting down, just enough to make him groan.

You push him toward the bedroom.

He lets you.

You straddle him the second he hits the bed, pressing your hips down until you feel him twitching beneath his slacks, already hard, already straining. You grind slowly, deliberately, and his head drops back with a strangled sound.

You kiss him again, slower this time. Meaner. Like a punishment. Like retribution for every late arrival, every Superman scoop, every time he looked at you like you hung the fucking moon.

When you break away, you lean down, your mouth brushing his ear. “I hate you.”

His breath catches. His grip on your hips tightens.

“I hate how soft you pretend to be. I had that stupid fucking ‘golly gee’ act like you’re not hiding the most dangerous secret in the world. I hate you.”

“God,” He breathes, almost broken. “Say it again.”

“I hate you, Sunghoon.”

And then his hands are everywhere.

He rolls you over, yanking your shirt off so fast the fabric nearly rips. His mouth crashed to your neck, trailing heat down your collarbone, between your breasts, across your ribs. When he pulls back to look at you, there’s something primal in his gaze. Starved. Worshipful.

“Tell me where you want me,” He rasps.

You lean up on your elbows. “You’re Superman. Figure it out.”

His growl vibrates through your chest before he drops to his knees at the edge of the bed, dragging your pants down your thighs. He doesn’t stop to tease. Doesn’t play coy.

His mouth is on you in seconds.

Hot. Wet. Perfect.

You cry out, hips jerking, but his hands grip your thighs and hold you down, unmovable. His tongue flicks in tight, devastating circles, and then he flattens it. Slow and deliberate, until your eyes roll back in your head.

“Fuck—Sunghoon—”

He moans against you, like the sound of his name falling from your lips is the only thing he’s ever wanted.

Your fingers tangle in his hair. “I hate this. I hate how good you are at this.”

He groans again, deeper, louder. You feel him rutting slightly against the mattress like he’s getting off just from tasting you. The thought makes you whine. It’s almost unfair how good he is at this. Like he’s memorized you.

He finds your clit again, circles it with obscene precision, and you arch off the mattress with a sharp gasp.

“You’re close,” He whispers against you. “I can feel it.”

“I’m going to kill you,” You pant.

“I’ll die happy.”

Your orgasm hits like a wave crashing through you, hot and heavy and blinding, You cry out, sharp and breathless, thighs trembling around his head. Sunghoon doesn’t stop. He licks you through it, soft and reverent. Like he wants to savor every second.

You look down at him, wrecked and panting. “I still hate you,” You manage.

He grins, a real one this time, crooked and infuriatingly gorgeous. “Good,” he says. “Then you’ll hate this even more.”

And just like that, he’s crawling back up your body, slotting himself between your legs, the head of his clothes cock nudging against your soaked entrance.

And he’s still hard. Rock fucking hard.

You blink. “Jesus Christ.”

He pulls his pants and boxers down as his smile widens. “Not quite.”

You punch his arm. He laughs, but the sound dies quickly when he lines himself up and pushes in, slow and smooth, inch by inch. You both groan. You clench around him instinctively, and his jaw locks.

“You feel—fuck. Better than I dreamed.”

“You dreamed about this?”

He leans in, kisses you hard. “Every night.”

You’re still trembling from the first wave when Sunghoon pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes dark, pupils blown wide like he;s been holding back an entire storm.

You arch up into his hands, desperate and aching. His lips descend again. This time with hungry insistence, sucking bruises into your skin—neck, collarbone—a map of possession in deep, dark purples. You try to catch your breath but he pins your arms above your head with one hand, the other trailing fire down your ribs, across your stomach.

“Don’t move,” he commands, voice trembling like it’s torture holding himself back.

His mouth covers yours again, hot and insistent, teeth grazing your bottom lip as his fingers move faster inside you. He kisses and sucks at your neck, marking you like he’s carving your name into his skin. 

You shiver, heart pounding as he works your shirt off you, fingertips trailing across your ribs once more. He’s relentless, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re gasping, trembling under the weight of his touch. You’re still sensitive from the last orgasm he coaxed out of you, be he’s not done. Not even close.

His hands tremble as he touches you. The way he looks at you now—wide eyes, desperate, like he’s about to break—makes something wild flare inside you.

He’s not the untouchable hero tonight. He’s yours. And you own every inch of him.

You kiss him hard, biting his lower lip as you maneuver the both of you until he’s on his back and you’re on top of him. His skin is impossibly warm under your touch, slick with heat and desire.

Sunghoon’s breathing is ragged, his chest rising and falling quickly. He presses himself against you, hands tangled in your hair, holding you close like he’s afraid to let go.

You take control, guiding him down until he’s lying back, breathless and vulnerable. You straddle him, sliding your heat against his ache. His hands cup your hips, trembling, and he whimpers softly as you begin to move.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice thick with need. “So good… God, you’re so good…”

His eyes squeeze shut, mouth falling open, exposing raw, desperate pleasure. He’s never been like this, the strong and invincible Superman, not when it comes to you.

He whines when you shift, when you grind, when you tease that sensitive spot that makes him arch into you, hips jerking uncontrollably. Then you sink down onto him.

“Please, don’t stop,” He begs, voice breathy and broken. 

Your hands slide over his chest, feeling the rapid thumb of his heart beneath your palms. He’s lost, undone, and it’s yours to keep. You ride him slowly, building, driving him higher, feeling every shiver and gasp as his pleasure months.

He whimpers your name over and over, voice cracked and raw. “More.” He begs, fingers clutching your hips tighter. You give it to him.

Faster now. Harder. The room fills with the sound of skin sliding, ragged breaths, and his desperate, needy whimpers. When he comes, it’s shuddering and loud—hips bucking wildly, mouth open in a ragged cry. 

You collapse against him, breathless, hearts pounding together in a thunderous rhythm. He pulls you close, lips brushing your hair, whispering your name like a prayer. And you hate that you don’t want this to end.

10 ── You hate that you love him.

You told yourself it wasn’t possible.

Not with Park Sunghoon—Mr. Always-Late, Mr. Aw‑Shucks, Mr. Exclusive‑Scoop Superman. The man who made you roll your eyes before you even opened his email. The man who kept secrets that could’ve rewritten your career. The man you once swore you'd never let in.

And now you’re waking up tangled in his arms, back pressed against his chest, his breath warm against your neck. He’s asleep—still shirtless, still soft beneath the weighted duvet like he’s the one who needs comfort, not the other way around. Your mind whips through all the reasons you shouldn’t feel this calm. This safe. This full.

You hate him.

You hate how he made you laugh at that stupid coffee joke you said while complaining about the crime desk. You hate how he trails kisses along your eyelids when you’re half-awake just to check if you're really real. You hate that he’s Superman—because knowing he could see the world in one blink, yet he chooses to stay here, beside you… it almost hurts.

You roll over carefully and catch his gaze.

He blinks. “Morning.” His voice is rough, like he’s just been dragged out of a dream you wish you were in too.

You raise an eyebrow. “Morning? You know you’re not even supposed to exist before 8, right?”

He grins softly, stretching, then wraps an arm around you again. “I got a day off,” He says. “Superman’s on vacation.”

Your lips twitch. “Vacation. That’s rich.”

He chuckles into your shoulder. “So you don’t mind.”

You scoot back enough to face him. “I mind that you’re gorgeous at 7 a.m. and I can't even hate you for it.”

He quirks his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Oh no, it’s fine.” You tap the bridge of his nose with a finger. “Let the world survive without Superman for one day. Let me hate you slightly less.”

He laughs, and it’s the softest thing in the room. Your chest tightens. You’ve hated him for a lot of things—his lateness, his lies, his speed-of-light heroism—but none of it compares to the strange ache of joy when he smiles at you this way.

“We should get breakfast,” He says, voice low like he’s testing gravity. “I know this place downtown that has killer cinnamon rolls.”

You sit up. Hair messy, pajamas rumpled. You cross your arms. “I hate cinnamon rolls.”

He scowls in mock horror. “No real human hates cinnamon rolls.” Then softer: “Fine. We’ll go anywhere you like.”

You narrow your eyes. “I’ve lived decades off burnt coffee and reuse foam. I don’t crave anything sweet.”

He’s thoughtful for just a beat. “Okay. Black coffee and stale bagels it is.”

A grin tugs at your lips. It’s so utterly him to tease. So… effortless. You're flooded with old habits—cynicism, sarcasm—and they feel braver than you thought.

But then his thumb brushes gently over your hand. And underneath the banter you suddenly realize how loud your heart is.

You clear your throat. “But seriously—I still hate you.” You lie.

He stills beside you. A small smile covers his face.Heartbeat thunders under his palm. “You know,” he says quietly, voice cracking just a little, “I hate how worried I get when you pull investigative duty alone.”

Your gut clenches. “You’ll fly here if anything happens.”

He nods. “In five seconds.”

You stare at him. Really stare. This is not Superman breathing next to you—this is Sunghoon. Vulnerable. Human. Loving.

In that moment, all the hate evaporates.

“We’re a mess,” You laugh softly, looking away.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Best mess I’ve ever been in.”

He kisses your temple lightly. Tender. Long. Enough that you’ve lost count of everything you should hate about him.

And you hate that this moment isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning.

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