a-tiny-thing

[a-tiny-thing]

✗ sugar and sin ✗ | PARK SEONGHWA

pairings  ✃  mafia! seonghwa x fem! reader

genre  ✃  mafia au, non-idol au, SLOW BURNN

synopsis  ✃  

seonghwa goes above and beyond to eliminate his targets: going undercover in places they go to most. when you happen to spend your time in a secluded bakery, seonghwa decides to bake your treats with doses of poison - yet somehow, you keep surviving.

in which you thought you made a new friend in your local bakery, when in reality - your ‘baker’ keeps mistaking laxatives for poison.

w.c  ✃ 9.1k

c.w  ✃ dark themes, some desc of gore, poison, drink-spiking, kiss scene but no smut, very very slight yandere behaviour, cursing, reader + seonghwa are in their 20s (not too relevant to plot), reader wants to be an architect.

author’s note: ngl, this story ended up a little more wholesome than i anticipated but oh well. remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, any and all feedback helps!

not proofread!

masterlist

it was official. you were a walking, unkillable creature sent to test seonghwa’s patience. 

you had to be at this point. that was the sixth poisoned-cream puff he’d given you this week and you were still talking on the phone about some guy you met at work. 

seonghwa’s fingers curled around the register, his knuckles turning white. when was the last time it took him this long to kill someone? five years ago?

time flies by fast - and yet it’s going painfully slow to take. you. out. 

“oh my god, no way-“ you laughed suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. 

seonghwa sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. he turned around and headed for the kitchen. if you weren’t going to die quickly, the least he could do was distract himself. 

“back to baking,” he muttered through clenched teeth. 

1 MONTH AGO - SIGHTSEEING

the early morning was cool, damp and filled with the scent of rain. the light drizzle from the grey sky above pattered against the balcony railing as birds chirped louder than the traffic below.

seonghwa sat on the metal chair, placing his steaming cup of tea onto the small table next to him. 

the balcony door slid open. 

a yawn was heard from behind him. “are you people-watching again?” hongjoong asked, rubbing his eyes. 

seonghwa didn’t look back, only nodding in response.

“you’re on food duty now, remember?” hongjoong stepped onto the balcony, sitting on the chair beside his friend. “you don’t need to look for targets..”

seonghwa leaned forward, mumbling, “is it wrong to have hobbies?” 

the morning rush was in full swing - people running with umbrellas over their heads, cars splashing through puddles and delivery workers speeding on bikes. it was oddly satisfying to watch, especially when you weren’t a part of any of it.

hongjoong rested his chin on his hand. “i don’t pay you to kill anymore. i hope you know this.”

“yeah, yeah,” seonghwa said absentmindedly, like he’d done many times before - though something caught his attention.

his eyes narrowed, focusing on a girl - must be in her early 20s, hurrying down the sidewalk with a large stack of papers in her arms. her steps were rushed, nearly bumping into the people ahead of her.

and then it happened.

she tripped over her own foot, causing her to stumble forward. the papers flew out of her grasp, scattering onto the crowded pavement. she dropped to her knees, scurrying to gather them.

but before she could, a gust of wind swept most of them down the street.

seonghwa got up from his chair abruptly, his tea long forgotten.

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “did you see something?”

seonghwa didn’t answer. his attention was fixed on you, your hands moving as fast as possible to salvage the remaining papers. just as you managed to grab a few, a van sped through a nearby puddle, splashing you from head to toe.

you froze, shivering. and to make things worse, the light rain turned into a heavy downpour. “...fuck!”

seonghwa’s eyes lit up in fascination. 

he’d never seen someone as unlucky, unfortunate and pathetic as you in all of his years. 

you were perfect.

“seonghwa-?”

a slow, almost predatory smirk spread across seonghwa’s lips. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you - the defeated and helpless girl that stood frozen on the pavement, completely drenched. 

“i found my target.”

2 WEEKS AGO - IT’S CALLED EMPLOYMENT 

the smell of fresh bread and melted butter greeted you as you pushed the bakery door open, the small bell jingling. 

“ah ‘____’!” the old baker, mrs earl, said with a smile. “it’s good to see you again.”

you gave her a bright grin. “i brought you the new crossword,” you placed a folded newspaper on the counter.

“oh honey, you’re an angel,” she thanked.

you waved off the praise, already making your way to the display case. you grabbed your free muffin (it wasn’t technically free, but mrs earl adored you enough to turn a blind eye) and took a bite.

as you ate, she wiped her hands with a dishcloth. “you know, a boy came in today. said he wanted a job.”

you raised an eyebrow. “someone applied?” 

“mhm,” she nodded, her smile widening. “i was quite shocked, he’s very young- around your age.”

“..huh,” you said, unsure of how to respond. it was hard to imagine someone else your age showing interest in such a bakery.

mrs earl’s eyes twinkled as she giggled, “he was such a gentleman, too. handsome, if i may add.”

you grinned. “mrs earl, are you into him?”

she laughed heartily. “of course not! i still have my boys at the country club..”

“..anyways,” she continued, slightly softer. “with him around, i don’t need to come in anymore.”

“...really?”

she nodded firmly. “why not? i think he’s capable enough to manage things while i go on vacation.”

“..if you say so,” you replied, a little doubtful. 

you’ve grown so attached to mrs earl that the idea of someone else stepping in felt.. strange. even then, you quickly pushed those thoughts away. you weren’t going to stop her from having her well-deserved break.

but little did you know - across the street, seonghwa sat on a weathered bench, his eyes following you. 

you were an open book, he realised. your patterns were consistent, your routine almost boring in its predictability. lunch breaks at the bakery. post-work visits for a chat and a muffin. your world revolved around this tiny little bakery that it made you so so easy to track.

it was perfect.

and now all he had to do was wait.

1 WEEK AGO - HEY I JUST MET YOU, AND THIS IS CRAZY

holy shit. 

mrs earl wasn’t kidding when she said the new hire was handsome.

a man stood behind the counter, arranging pastries with meticulous care. his hair fell perfectly, right out of a shampoo commercial, while his skin looked impossibly flawless and clean. 

“...wow,” you breathed out before you could stop yourself.

the man turned, his sharp features softened by a slight tilt of his head. 

you blinked rapidly, scrambling to recover. “i mean- hi!” you blurted with a nervous laugh. “i’m ‘____’, i’m a regular here,” you stuck your hand out.

it took a second before he shook your hand, giving you a small, polite smile. “mrs earl told me about you.”

your rubbed the back of your neck. “good things i hope..” you chuckled, earning a nod. 

“you’re..” you looked down, squinting to read the name tag pinned neatly to his apron. “seonghwa..?”

“correct.”

as seonghwa moved to the display case, you couldn’t help but watch him. everything about him was so polished, so graceful - it was like he belonged in the movies. 

when you saw the row of pastries he was arranging, you raised an eyebrow. that’s different. 

he glanced at you. “sorry, i don’t make muffins as good as mrs earl,” he admitted sheepishly. “but i think my cream puffs are up there.”

you stared at the tray of golden, perfectly piped pastries, your mouth watering. “c-can i take one?”

his lips curled into a faint smirk, his eyes darkening slightly. “of course.”

PRESENT - PLOT ARMOUR GOES CRAZYY

outside, the world bustled with its usual chaos, but inside the bakery? everything felt calm - too calm for seonghwa, whose patience was wearing dangerously thin.

from behind the counter, he had an excellent view of you. you chatted animatedly on the phone, the sunlight streaming in making you look annoyingly serene for someone who shouldn’t be here. 

“girl- the guy at my office is cutee,” you said as you stirred the remnants of your coffee.

seonghwa’s jaw tightened. the coffee you were sipping had enough poison to kill a sumo wrestler. you should’ve been dead on the floor by now.

so how the hell were you still alive?

blissfully unaware of his glare, you laughed at something your friend said. “are you crazy? why should i make the first move?”

when he first saw you, seonghwa thought you’d be his easiest target yet. he almost pitied you. your sheer unluckiness practically screamed death. 

yet here you were, as if life itself decided to mock him.

as you hung up the call, you stood up and strolled to the counter, rummaging through your bag. “how much do i owe you?”

seonghwa shook his head, sighing. “it’s on the house,” he said. 

you paused, slipping your phone into your pocket. “seonghwa, you really need to stop giving me free food,” you pulled out a ten-dollar bill.

“but i want to,” he shrugged. 

you studied him for a moment, tilting your head. “then can i get another coffee to-go, please?”

his eye twitched.

it was such an harmless request, something seemingly so simple. yet it felt like an insult to his entire career.

still, seonghwa forced a smile, taking the cash. “of course.”

turning to the coffee pot, he poured another cup. when you looked away to check your phone, he sprinkled a little extra poison into the drink - just to be sure.

“thank you so much,” your face lit up as you took the cup from him. “you’re a lifesaver.”

the irony hit him like a truck, but he simply nodded.

as you turned to leave, he stared at the coffee pot, his mind spinning.

how? how?

you were unkillable. immune. an anomaly wrapped in plot armour so thick and absurd it made his chest ache with something he couldn’t name. 

obsession, frustration, fascination - it all blurred together into one singular thought:

he needed stronger poison.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“..helloo?” a hand waved in front of seonghwa, snapping him out of his thoughts.

seonghwa blinked, turning to find wooyoung standing beside him, wooden spoon in hand, his apron splattered in sauces. 

“you’re sanding the plate,” wooyoung smirked before turning back to the bubbling pot on the stove. 

the sound of running water filled the hideout’s small kitchen, together with the clanging of pots and pans. seonghwa stood over the sink, yellow rubber gloves on his hands as he washed the dishes.

seonghwa looked down - and to his horror, he’d been scrubbing the same spot on the plate for who knows how long. a noticeable mark formed, the glaze nearly wearing off. 

wooyoung glanced over his shoulder. “you okay?”

“yeah,” seonghwa replied.

a short silence followed before wooyoung spoke up again. “…you still haven’t killed that girl.”

seonghwa rolled his eyes, nearly breaking the ceramic in his hands. “don’t remind me. she’s invincible.”

“invincible?” wooyoung barked out a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “to you?”

seonghwa’s lips pressed into a thin line, sighing. the memory of the coffee earlier was still fresh in his mind. “my poison doesn’t work on her.”

wooyoung paused. “we have poison?”

“yeah,” seonghwa muttered, rinsing the plate and setting it on the drying rack. “the blue ones in the cupboard.”

wooyoung’s face shifted slowly from confusion, to realisation, to then poorly concealed amusement.

“seonghwa..” he began carefully, facing him. “you know those are laxatives, right..?”

the sponge in seonghwa’s hand nearly slipped into the soapy water. “..what?”

“they’re laxatives,” wooyoung repeated. “i mean, they do look the same, but they’re laxatives.” 

seonghwa stared at him. “those are the only ones left- what happened to my poison?”

“we uh-” wooyoung hesitated, shifting on his feet. “we crushed it up and made paint..”

the air in the kitchen turned deathly still.

“you what?”

“i thought no one used it-!”

“i use it-! who makes paint with pills?” seonghwa snapped, his hands gripping the edges of the sink. he exhaled deeply, forcing himself to stay calm. “now i have to get more from that dealer.”

“uhh..” wooyoung cringed.

seonghwa turned to him, narrowing his eyes. “don’t tell me..”

wooyoung gulped, nodding slowly. “...san killed him.” 

WEEK 3 - TOUCH GRASS

the sound of your best friend’s voice echoed from your phone as you sat by the window, nibbling on the cream puff seonghwa gave you - again.

“i know this is TMI,” you said quietly. “but i’ve been shitting a lot lately. i don’t know if it's my period or lactose intolerance acting up.”

as you took another bite, the cream puff melted in your mouth, its sweetness making you temporarily forget about your bowel issues. 

rejecting it felt stupid - it was free. sure, it was weird that seonghwa kept giving you free food, but mrs earl trusted him, so why shouldn’t you?

still, you couldn’t quite figure him out. the man had a habit of glaring at you from across the bakery. were you that pretty? yes. but his glares didn’t feel like he was admiring you. they leaned more towards… anger.

your friend on the other end of the call burst out laughing - and you joined her for a moment. but before your friend could reply, your phone screen went black. 

“ugh, seriously?” you grumbled, tapping the screen repeatedly. with an annoyed sigh, you stuffed the dead phone into your bag.

with nothing else to do, your attention shifted. your eyes eventually landed on seonghwa, who was watching you with a blank face. 

it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him, right? after all, you see him everyday - and since your phone died, maybe it’s finally time to get some real human interaction in.

you gave him a wide smile. “hey, seonghwa.”

he blinked, visibly startled. “i uh-”

“-why don’t you sit with me?” you asked. “you’re not busy, are you?” 

for a moment, he seemed frozen. but somehow, you managed to convince him to sit across from you.

“so...” you began. “how are you?”

“good.”

you blinked. this wasn’t the riveting conversation you were hoping for.

unfazed, you continued. “how’s work been? stressful?”

he exhaled softly, shaking his head. “it’s fine. how about you? how’s work?”

“it’s alright,” you shrugged. “it’s gotten better since i started coming here. the vending machines at work are always broken.”

he nodded, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. “yeah- it’s even more convenient since it’s walking distance, right?”

you paused. 

“...how do you know that?”

seonghwa’s fingers froze mid-tap. 

“mrs earl,” he said finally. “she said a lot of her regulars work in the area.”

“oh, that makes sense,” you said, your suspicions fading quickly. you glanced out the window, your face softening. “i miss her..”

seonghwa let out a quiet sigh of relief, nodding as though he agreed with you.

but inside, his mind was screaming. that was way too close. 

focus.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you kicked your shoes and slumped onto the couch, letting out a long sigh. the day had been.. something. your chat with seonghwa was pretty awkward, but more than anything, it made you miss mrs earl.

reaching for your phone, you dialed her number.

“‘____’! my favourite customer,” she greeted cheerfully, the background noise filled with chatter and clinking glasses.

“mrs earl!” you replied. “how are you? are the boys at your country club treating you well?”

“oh, you know how they are,” she giggled. “trying to impress me with golf and fancy dinners. it’s nice to relax for a change.”

you chuckled, sinking deeper into the couch. “that sounds perfect. you deserve it.”

the conversation flowed easily unlike the one earlier. you updated her on the usual - work and office gossip. but eventually, the topic drifted to the bakery.

“i hope the new boy hasn’t burned the place down,” mrs earl began.

“he’s actually a pretty good baker,” you said. “his cream puffs are unreal-”

you paused for a moment before you added. “though i have to say, they make my stomach hurt whenever i eat them.”

the line went quiet.

“...please elaborate,” mrs earl chuckled softly.

“i mean- i don’t know,” you shrugged, even though she couldn’t see it. “after i eat his pastries, my trips to the toilet are… traumatic.” you let out a small laugh. “but they’re so tasty, it’s worth the lactose intolerance.”

another silence followed, longer this time. you frowned slightly, shifting on the couch. 

“mrs earl?”

her voice finally came through, slower this time. “that’s.. impossible, my dear.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, sitting a little straighter.

“well,” she began carefully. “the bakery strictly uses oat milk. we don’t use any dairy products in our pastries.”

“...what?”

“the cream, the milk- everything is plant-based,” she continued. “it’s been that way for years. didn’t i tell you that when you first came in?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

mrs earl’s voice broke the silence again. “it could be something else. you’ve been stressed, haven’t you?”

“yeah..” you replied automatically, though your thoughts were far from the conversation.

“take care of yourself, honey,” she said gently. “i have to go, but call me again soon, okay?”

you nodded. “okay.. bye, mrs earl.”

“stay well, ‘____’.”

the call ended, leaving you sitting on the couch, phone in hand. for a long moment, you stared at the screen, her voice echoing in your head. 

the bakery strictly uses oat milk.

MONTH 1 - I WAS SPACING OUT

you sat at your regular table by the window, flipping through your notebook while sipping on your coffee.

you tapped your pencil against the table. yes, ‘traumatic’ was probably an exaggeration for your bathroom trips - but if there was no dairy in seonghwa’s cream puffs, then what was messing with your stomach?

you quickly shook your head, a sigh escaping your lips. ‘too weird to think about,’ you thought to yourself. whatever it was, the food was worth it.

you returned back to sketching, taking out your ruler to make straight lines. but as you drew, you couldn’t help but feel a certain someone’s eyes on you. 

“you’re staring again,” you said without looking up. 

a long pause settled over the bakery before you heard a, “..no, i wasn’t.”

you glanced up, a smile tugging at your lips. “wanna see what i’m working on?” 

and that was how seonghwa found himself unusually close to you, sitting beside you as you showed him your sketches - clean lines forming buildings, bridges and intricate floor plans. 

“you like drawing?” he asked.

“yeah,” you nodded, flipping to another page. “i wanted to be an architect.” 

seonghwa’s brow furrowed slightly. “then why aren’t you doing it?” 

you let out a laugh. “because i’m broke,” you said simply. “i’d rather work in an office than take out student loans.” 

you flipped through more sketches - some labelled with small notes in the margins while others had more detailed calculations. “it’s just a little hobby of mine.”

seonghwa’s eyes darted between you and the notebook. “this doesn’t look like a hobby,” he muttered.

you raised an eyebrow. “what does it look like then?”

“it looks like something you’re serious about.” 

you paused, blinking at him before leaning closer. “i’m serious about a lot of things, seonghwa- but that doesn’t mean i make a career out of them.”

the silence between you stretched as you flipped through the pages. the energy shifted to something you couldn’t quite explain - and as you tilted the notebook to show him a certain sketch, you realised that his eyes weren’t even on the paper anymore, they were on you. 

you sighed, closing the notebook. as you slipped it into your bag, you noticed how his eyes were still following you, sharp yet strangely soft with concern.

“don’t worry-” you said, smoothing out your clothes. “i’m perfectly content with where i am now.”

“are you?” he asked.

you met his eyes for a moment longer than usual. “yep,” you finished the last sip of your coffee. “how could i not be? free cream puffs and all, right?”

seonghwa didn’t respond.

“thanks for looking at my sketches,” you smiled, turning away. “hope i didn’t bother you.”

as he watched you walk out the door, he let out a slow sigh he didn’t realise he was holding, running a hand through his hair.

he stared up at the ceiling, leaning back into the chair. and for the first time in a long time, seonghwa felt sympathy. 

MONTH 2 - FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC 

over the past few weeks, you developed the habit of waving seonghwa over to join you whenever you stopped by the bakery. what started as polite small talk turned into embarrassing work stories you had.

this afternoon was no different. you sat across from him, coffee in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other, complaining about your friends’ latest questionable decision.

“yeah, she doesn’t listen to me,” you took a bite out of the cookie. “like- why fuck him if you hate him, y’know?”

behind his usual composed self, you caught the faintest twitch of seonghwa’s lips, followed by a sound so soft you almost missed it - a low chuckle.

you froze mid-bite. “did you just.. laugh?”

seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “yeah..?”

you leaned forward, eyes wide with excitement. “i’ve never seen you laugh before.”

“i’m sure you have,” he blinked.

“no, i would’ve remembered it,” you shook your head, grinning. “i like it.”

seonghwa choked, caught off guard. before he could even respond or process what you said, his phone buzzed in his apron pocket. he glanced at the screen and frowned.

“excuse me,” he said, heading to the small kitchen in the bakery, leaving you slightly confused.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

seonghwa pressed the phone to his ear. “what?” he asked.

“i got your poison ready,” san’s voice came through.

seonghwa nearly dropped his phone, swallowing the lump in his throat. “...really?”

“yeah- you wanted it extra strong, right?” san continued. “it took some tweaking, but it’s ready to go.”

the baker’s eyes darted to the half-open kitchen door. he could almost picture you sitting on the other side of it. “right… good.”

this was it. no more laxatives, no more delays.

it’s real now.

the thought of finishing the job left a strange knot in his chest - not dread exactly, but something close to it.

he wasn’t supposed to feel this way - no, he’s never felt this way. his work had always been detached. he never tried to make connections outside of the world of crime, didn’t deal with people who weren’t tied to his web of blood.

not until you came along.

you talked to him like he was.. normal. like he was a regular guy in a regular bakery.

he was finally seen as a person, not a killer. 

it was refreshing. 

“hello?” san’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“i uh-“ seonghwa cleared his throat, realising that he was silent for too long. “just leave the poison on my desk. i’ll get it later.

“sure,” san replied before adding, “but don’t overthink it, okay? just get it done.”

seonghwa hung up, staring at his phone for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket.

just get it done.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

from your seat, you only caught bits and pieces of seonghwa’s call. you didn’t mean to listen in, but your ears got carried away. 

his voice was low and hard to hear, muffled by the thin walls of the bakery - but one word stood out: poison.

your brows furrowed as you leaned back into your chair, the word echoing in your mind. poison? like food poisoning? did he get it? was that what you had?

you pushed those thoughts out of your mind. after all, what were the odds that your new friend seonghwa said something like ‘poison’ in a bakery of all places? you must’ve misheard.

the door creaked open as seonghwa stepped out, dusting his apron off as he walked back to the table.

“sorry about that,” he said, sitting across from you.

you tilted your head. “everything okay?”

“yeah,” he replied - but you swear you caught a hint of guilt in his eyes. “where were we?”

MONTH 3 - THIS ISN’T FUN ANYMORE

you wandered through the aisles that had shelves lined with tools, appliances and decorations. mrs earl invited you out for a little shopping spree, wanting to pick out a few things for her house.

as she inspected a stack of plates, something caught your attention - a small set of colourful forks, each with cute designs of fruits and animals.

“these are adorable,” you muttered as you picked it up.

mrs earl looked over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you liked these things.”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “oh- i do, but this is for seonghwa.”

“for seonghwa?” she raised an eyebrow.

“yeah,” you nodded. “he’s always giving me free food. i just thought it’d be nice to get him something.”

mrs earl’s lips curved into a knowing smile, though she said nothing. instead, she patted your shoulder and moved to examine another shelf.

over the past few weeks, seonghwa had become quite a good friend of yours. after all, you saw him everyday and you started to look forward to his presence whenever you stopped by.

and honestly? you’ve been wanting to pay him back for ages. all the free pastries, coffees and times he let you ramble on about work without looking annoyed. he needed.. compensation, if that was what it was called.

you sighed. what if he thought you were weird? well, it didn’t really matter - you wanted to do this.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the bakery was quiet and empty. seonghwa stood at the counter, his fingers gripping a small packet of crushed pills in one hand and the coffee you ordered in the other.

the poison felt heavier that it should, sinking into his palm as a reminder of what he was about to do. his mind spun, his thoughts fuzzy.

was this really happening?

he stared at the packet, his breathing shallow. it took him longer than usual to go near the wretched thing, let alone hold it. now, standing with the poison scarily close to your coffee, the reality set in.

your life was in his hands.

seonghwa’s chest tightened. he could just stop, throw the poison away, pour the coffee down the sink and pretend that none of this happened. after all, no one was forcing him to do this - except himself.

he sighed shakily, his fingers trembling as he began to shove the poison into his pocket.

but then the door swung open. you weren’t supposed to be back yet.

“hey seonghwa-!”

your voice startled him. his eyes snapped to the door as you walked in with paper bags, followed by mrs earl.

“i got you something-“ you said before your smile faltered, your eyes landing on the packet in his hand. “is that.. wait- is that drugs?”

seonghwa coughed, fully shoving it into his pocket quickly. “no- it’s not-”

your eyes narrowed - and before seonghwa could react, you went behind the counter and reached into his pocket, pulling out the packet.

“wait-”

your lips parted as you read the label. “...poison?” you breathed out.

the words hung in the air.

your eyes darted to the coffee cup still clutched in his other hand. it was unmistakably yours, your drink order obvious. and it didn’t take long for the pieces to click.

“are you-“ you gulped. “...are you trying to kill me?” you asked, your voice trembling.

seonghwa stood frozen, unable to respond. 

mrs earl, who was trailing behind, looked at the packet in your hand, then at seonghwa.

“what is the meaning of this?” she demanded. she stormed over to him, grabbing a nearby towel and smacking it across his shoulder. “i trusted you with my food! my bakery! and this is what you do?!”

seonghwa flinched but didn’t resist. his eyes, however, weren’t on mrs earl - they were on you.

you were completely still, the poison clutched in your hands. 

seonghwa opened his mouth to say something - anything, but the words died before they could form. you couldn’t even look at him, your eyes wide and unfocused.

ignoring how his chest tightened, he turned and dashed - leaving nothing but silence in the bakery.

mrs earl paced angrily, muttering curses under her breath. but you didn’t hear her - you couldn’t. your eyes remained fixed on the packet, your breathing heavy.

you sat down, throwing the poison far away from you. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat louder than the last. 

holy shit.

he was going to kill you. 

MONTH 4 - ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

you leaned back in your seat, stretching your arms above your head. you powered down your computer, your office building quiet - working overtime seemed more tiring than usual.

you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder when your eyes landed on a small box tucked into the corner of your desk.

the fork set.

for weeks, you avoided looking at it. the sight of it was a reminder of the bakery - your now-dead friendship with seonghwa and the moment you realised he tried to kill you.

why did you even keep this?

you didn’t want to bring it home. you didn’t want to keep it at all. maybe it was time to throw it away and be done with it. 

you stepped out of your office building, the streets eerily silent. the only source of light you had were the streetlights that shined yellow light onto the pavement.

you clenched the fork set in your hands.

poison.

the word did circles around your mind, sending an uncomfortable feeling throughout your body. was that why your stomach always hurt after eating his pastries? was he actually trying to poison you the whole time?

the idea of it stung. you thought back to all the times you trusted him, to all the times you talked.

was any of it even real?

your thoughts were interrupted by the faint sight of movement you caught from the corner of your eye.

you stopped, glancing to the alley to your left. at first, it was hard to make out what you were seeing, the shadows dark. but then you froze.

a man stood there, holding a gun.

and someone else was infront of him, pinned against the wall.

your breath hitched when you realised who it was.

seonghwa.

his eyes locked onto yours, wide with fear as the gunman barked something you couldn’t hear. his face was bruised, blood smeared along his jaw and soaking his shirt.

you gulped.

this man tried to kill you. you could just.. walk away, pretend this didn’t happen.

you took a step back, everything in your body telling you to leave. but then, seonghwa’s trembling hand reached toward you, his fingers shaking as he silently pleaded.

shit.

you don’t know what compelled you - pity or something else entirely, but your grip tightened on the box in your hand. quickly, you opened it, grabbing the first fork you saw.

without thinking, you chucked it at the gunman.

the fork struck his shoulder with a dull thud, making him whip around in shock, pointing the gun at you.

your heart stopped. this was it.

but seonghwa worked fast.

grabbing the fork, he lunged forward with all the strength he had, driving it into the gunman’s neck.

the man stumbled, choking as he clawed at his throat, slumping to the ground.

seonghwa collapsed to his knees, panting heavily as the fork clattered from his hand to the pavement. blood dripped from his fingertips, pooling around him as he pressed a hand to his side, trying to stop his wound from bleeding.

“...thank you,” he managed to say, his voice hoarse.

you stared at him, your chest heaving. you stepped closer, looking down at his bloodied state. “damn it.”

seonghwa glanced up at you, his eyes filled with… gratitude? sincerity? relief? or was that desperation?

you sighed, shaking your head. “you’re lucky i’m a nice person.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“i’m sorry-”

“don’t talk to me,” you cut him off, shoving a cold can of soda into his hand.

you brought seonghwa to your office, the only place you could think of where he wouldn’t be found - or bleed out. he sat in your coworker’s chair, guilt written all over his face.

with a heavy sigh, you sank into your own chair across from him, leaning back as you tried to catch your breath.

for what felt like an eternity, the two of you sat in silence, your eyes locked in an unspoken fight. dark red tissues piled up beside seonghwa as he pressed another one to the cut on his cheek, wincing.

you didn’t want to feel sorry for him. you didn’t want to care. but seeing him like this - injured, his clothes stained with the horrid look of blood, made it impossible to ignore the way your stomach twisted.

“...how did you end up like this?”

your words cracked, betraying the hurt and confusion you tried so so hard to bottle up.

“i-” began before stopping himself, his voice faltering. he pressed his lips into a thin line, looking away from you. 

EARLIER THAT DAY

“wha-? you can’t say no, seonghwa,” hongjoong snapped. “this is your job.”

seonghwa slouched deeper into the couch, arms crossed over his chest. his eyes followed his boss as he paced around the room. “i don’t want to go.”

“‘i don’t want to go’,” hongjoong mocked, stopping mid-step to glare at him. “i’m not asking you to go, i’m telling you.”

seonghwa stayed silent.

“come on,” hoongjoong ran a hand through his hair. “we got a tip they’re loitering around these streets. the least you could do is check it out.”

‘they’.

aka the drug cartel that had been bothering hongjoong and the group for months. even then, seonghwa shook his head, refusing his boss’s orders.

hongjoong let out a frustrated sigh. “you’ve been like this ever since you failed to kill that girl. you’re depressed- go outside.”

seonghwa’s head snapped up. “i’m not depressed,” he glared.

“right,” hongjoong chuckled dryly. “because moping and lazing around is normal behavior for you. wake up.”

seonghwa bit back a retort, his nails biting into his palms. he wasn’t depressed. he wasn’t.

was he?

a heavy silence settled over the room. sure, the last few weeks have been.. off. he hadn’t been sleeping well. his appetite was nonexistent. and everytime he thought about you, he felt an ache in his heart that he couldn’t quite shake.

it wasn’t depression. it was just a.. slump.

he was not depressed. 

seonghwa sighed, rolling his eyes. “whatever,” he muttered finally. he pushed himself up. “i better be paid good for this.”

PRESENT

seonghwa gulped, staring at the bruises on his arms. finally, he met your eyes, shifting uncomfortably. “...it’s just my job.”

you crossed your arms. “your job?”

he said nothing.

“seonghwa-” you began, leaning forward. “what kind of job leaves you looking like this?”

his shoulders stiffened, and for a moment - you thought he wouldn’t answer. but then he sighed, wiping his bloody hands on his shirt. 

“if i tell you,” he said. “you need to promise me something.”

you raised an eyebrow. “promise what?”

“that you won’t tell anyone.”

a dry laugh escaped your lips. “i’m not promising anything. spit it out.”

“...i’m in a gang.”

“wha-” you stared at him, your face blank for a second before you let out a snort and cackle. “you’re joking, right?”

but when he didn’t laugh, you froze.

“wait- you’re not joking?” you asked, your voice quieter.

he shook his head.

his words hit you like a wave. your mind spun, connecting the dots - the poison, his sketchy behaviour, the guilty look in his eyes - it all fell into place.

“...is that why you tried to kill me?” you asked after a long pause. “what did i do?”

“that’s..” seonghwa trailed off, looking away. “unrelated.”

you rolled your eyes. “of course it is.”

his face softened into something almost remorseful. “i don’t really know how to talk about this,” he said. “but i know i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t have to save me, but you did,” he leaned forward. “and i keep wondering why- because if it was the other way around, i don’t think i would’ve done the same.”

you raised your eyebrow.

“i’m sorry, really,” he said, quieter now. “i don’t know what else i can say, but i just.. i don’t want you to think i’m taking any of it lightly.”

you stared at him, surprised by how sincere he was. “seonghwa..”

“i know an apology won’t fix anything,” he said. “but i’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

“whatever it takes?” you asked, furrowing your brows. 

he nodded quickly.

you scoffed, leaning in closer, your eyes piercing his. “if you really mean that, prove it.”

“i will,’ he said immediately.

“…uhuh,” you looked him up and down before standing, grabbing your bag. “you can start by cleaning the blood off of my coworker’s chair.”

he let out a faint chuckle, though it was more self-deprecating than anything. before you walked away, you paused, turning back to him.

“seonghwa?”

“yeah?”

you stepped closer, grabbing his collar and pulling him towards you. “before you try anything stupid, remember this: i still have that poison of yours.”

MONTH 5 - WALK HIM LIKE A DOG

you had to admit - it was convenient having your own personal assistant, even if the circumstances were… complicated.

it wasn’t like you asked for this arrangement. seonghwa brought it upon himself, showing up whenever you called. 

printer jammed? he’d be there in ten minutes. out of pens? he’d have a pack delivered to your desk. of course you didn’t trust him with tasks involving your drinks or food, but even then - he made himself useful with other things.

over time, you got used to calling him for simple errands - and he never complained. 

it was most definitely awkward though, especially when he tried to make small talk with you.

“..your hair looks nice,” he said once as he stood by your desk.

“thanks,” you replied, not looking up from your screen.

a moment passed. you glanced over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow when you noticed he was still standing there. “...do you need something?”

he quickly shook his head, turning away as he muttered an apology.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it amusing. as much as you hated to admit it, having him around wasn’t unbearable. 

as days turned into weeks, the distrust you held so tightly began to loosen its grip. it wasn’t like you forgot what he did, there were just moments when he seemed normal.

“you’re terrible at this,” you smirked, watching him struggle to assemble the new office chair you ordered.

he looked up at you. “i might be terrible, but at least i can read the instructions.”

you laughed.

but then you’d remember.

you’d remember the poison, the fact that this man tried to kill you for what seemed like no reason. 

and everything goes back to square one. 

MONTH 5.5 - T.G.I.F BY KATY PERRY

that friday, your coworkers insisted on dragging you out for a night at the club.

“let’s get wasted!” they said. “it’ll be fun!” they said.

that was probably a lie, but you gave in, changing your clothes before heading out.

neon lights shined erratically, painting the crowd in shifting shades of red, blue and green. bass-heavy music filled the club, so loud that it felt like waves went through your body. it was chaotic and packed to the brim with bodies swaying and stumbling.

it’d only been ten minutes and you already lost sight of your coworkers in the sea of people.

“shit,” you muttered under your breath, trying to find the exit. 

you pushed through drunk, clumsy dancers, finally spotting the door. but as you approached it, two towering men stepped infront of it, their shoulders forming an impenetrable wall.

“wha-?” you frowned, stopping. “i can’t leave?”

they didn’t respond.

“fine, whatever,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. if you were going to be stuck here, might as well grab a drink.

you made your way to the bar, squeezing between a group of rowdy patrons to get the bartender’s attention. but just as you opened your mouth to order, you heard a voice behind you.

“hey, angel.”

you paused, glancing behind to see a man standing way too close. he was quite well-dressed, but an unsettling smirk settled on his face.

“excuse me?” you raised an eyebrow.

“can i buy you a drink?” he purred, leaning closer. “i think i’ll regret it if i don’t.”

you blinked. “no, it’s okay-“

“-two shots of tequila,” he called out to the bartender, cutting you off. 

you stared at him, barely processing his words before a shot glass was placed infront of you, the clear liquid weirdly fizzing. 

“thank you, but i don’t-“

“drink.”

before you could react, his hand was at the back of your head, tilting it back as he pressed the shot glass to your lips. the liquid burned as it slid down your throat - making you cough violently while the heat seared your chest. 

“wha- what is happening?” you mumbled. your limbs felt heavy and your head was spinning as your vision blurred. 

the man’s smirk deepened, his face inches from yours as he gripped your wrist. “let me ask you something, angel.”

you blinked, your thoughts sluggish and messy.

“what do you know about a man named park seonghwa?”

the name hit you in the face, your breath hitching. “i-”

his grip on your wrist tightened painfully. “answer.”

“he’s just a baker,” you said quickly.

the man chuckled darkly, the sound sending a chill down your spine. “are you sure?”

you nodded, unable to form a response.

he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “then why did he poison my boss a few months ago?”

poison. 

that stupid stupid word haunting you again. 

the man laughed again, low and ominous. “you had a reaction there- you know something i don’t?”

you shook your head weakly, the motion making your dizziness worse. your knees buckled slightly, making you grip the edge of the sticky counter to steady yourself.

suddenly, the man’s phone buzzed in his pocket. he pulled it out, still holding you firmly in place.

“yeah,” he said after a moment. “i got his girlfriend right here.”

your eyes widened. “i’m not his girlfri-”

before you could finish, his hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your words.

“sleep,” he whispered, your world fading to black.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

seonghwa laid in bed, staring at the ceiling where his fan spun. with a sigh, he shifted under the covers, letting sleep take over him.

but just as he closed his eyes, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. his brows furrowed as he reached for it.

he swiped to answer it, not looking at the screen. “yes?”

“hey seonghwa,” a low, gruff voice was heard on the other end.

instantly, he was wide awake, sitting upright in the bed. his grip on the phone tightened. “...who is this?”

the voice chuckled. “i got your pretty little girlfriend right here- knocked out like a light.”

seonghwa paused. “...girlfriend?”

“yeah,” the man replied. “the chick you’re always hanging around. surprised you weren’t with her, thought i’d have to put up a fight.”

seonghwa’s blood turned cold as the realisation hit.

you.

he didn’t waste another second. he hung up immediately, throwing off the covers as he leapt out of bed, grabbing his jacket.

his footsteps echoed through the hideout as he stormed toward jongho’s room. he barged through the door without knocking, startling jongho who was hunched over his gaming setup.

jongho spun around in his chair. “what the hell-?”

“trace this number. now,” seonghwa shoved the phone into jongho’s hands.

jongho blinked. “i’m in the middle of a game.”

“i don’t care.”

jongho groaned, taking his headset off as he tapped the phone screen. “fine.”

seonghwa paced around the room like a caged animal - his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to calm himself down. if they’d taken you, it was most definitely his fault. 

“got it,” jongho said after a while, typing something into his laptop. “you want me to track the phone too?”

“yes-” seonghwa snapped. “hurry.”

jongho glanced up at him, his brows furrowed. “what’s going on?”

“someone has her,” seonghwa muttered.

jongho’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “i thought you were over her?”

“wha- no,” seonghwa glared at him. “just find her.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you slowly woke up, your head throbbing. your first attempt to open your eyes was met with darkness. no - something pressed against your face. a blindfold. 

your body felt stiff, the coarse bite of rope digging into your wrists and ankles. inhaling shakily, you realised something else: your mouth was muffled by a towel, trapping your cries before they could escape.

panic ran around your mind as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. the surface beneath you swayed gently - and you could hear the occasional creak of metal together with muffled voices. a vehicle. you were in a moving vehicle.

but out of nowhere, you heard a shout.

“shit!”

the vehicle swerved violently, the tires screeching against the asphalt with a sound sharp enough to make you wince. your body jerked with the motion, the restraints keeping you in place. tears spilled beneath your blindfold, your breaths shallow and rapid against the towel.

the screeching came to an abrupt stop, followed by the jarring slam of a door.

what came next was a symphony of screams and the sickening, wet sounds of a blade piercing flesh, bodies hitting the ground. you clenched your fists, trembling.

the next door opened. 

another scream. 

another stab.

then silence.

your chest heaved, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. was this it? were you next?

then your blindfold slipped away.

your eyes fluttered open, the tears caught in your lashes making your eyelids feel heavy. when your vision eventually cleared, the first thing you saw was him.

seonghwa. his face splattered with blood, his dark eyes wide as he searched yours. his chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath.

“are you okay?” he asked, removing the towel from your mouth.

tears spilled down your cheeks faster now, your emotions overwhelming you in a way you’ve never felt before.

seonghwa’s face softened as he wiped your tears with his thumb, the blood on his hands smearing across your skin.

he moved to the ropes binding your wrists and ankles, his hands working quickly. 

“i’m sorry,” he said softly. “i’m so sorry- shit. i should’ve stayed away from you.”

the moment you were free, you threw your arms around him. he stiffened at first, caught off guard, but then his hands moved to your back.

your body shook against his as you cried. over his shoulder, you saw the man at the bar - his lifeless body crumpled on the ground, stab wounds dotting him.

“i’m so sorry,” seonghwa whispered again, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. “this is all my fault.”

you pulled back slightly, your face still wet with tears. his hands stayed on your shoulders. “did they hurt you?” he asked softly.

you shook your head.

the vehicle fell into a heavy silence, the only sounds being your sniffling.

seonghwa gulped. “i’m sorry-”

“-thank you,” you said at the same time.

both of you froze, your words overlapping.

you chuckled, tears still clinging to your lashes.

“i’m really sorry,” he said once more, his voice cracking.

you studied him for a moment, taking in his disheveled hair, the blood on his skin and the exhaustion in his eyes. 

“...were you sleeping?” you asked, noticing the pajama shirt peeking out from under his jacket.

“yeah, i was about to.”

your eyes widened. “you saved me even though you were about to sleep?”

he raised an eyebrow. “was i not supposed to?” 

you stared at him, stunned. “...thank you.”

MONTH 6 - JUST DO IT

you’ve been staring at the text for hours, the words glowing on your phone screen.

let’s meet up.

seonghwa sent it to you that morning. no follow-up, no explanation, just those three words. and yet, they felt more heavy than you could even imagine.

what could you even say?

you tried to distract yourself, grabbing your laptop and scrolling through social media, but nothing held your attention for more than a second. your mind kept drifting back to the message.

your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with another notification. not him. but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the text again.

let’s meet up.

‘he saved you-’ you reminded yourself. ‘-but he also tried to kill you.’

it should’ve been simple. black and white. a clear boundary between trust and mistrust. but nothing about seonghwa was simple.

when you thought about him, the first thing that came to mind wasn’t the poison or the lies. 

it was his hands, trembling as he untied you. 

it was his voice, breaking with regret as he apologised. 

it was the way he looked at you, like he didn’t deserve your forgiveness but was desperate for it anyway.

you hated it.

you hated that he saved you. hated how jumbled your feelings were.

and most of all, you hated how much time you spent thinking about him and his stupidly flawless face. 

you groaned, tossing your phone onto the couch. “this is ridiculous.”

this wasn’t what you needed right now. you grabbed your bag and went out the door. maybe grocery shopping would clear your head.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the store was crowded, filled with after-work shoppers. you walked aimlessly, picking up a few essentials here and there, but your mind was still on that text.

you stopped at the fridges, grabbing a drink. but as you turned to place it in your basket, you collided with someone. “watch it-” you began.

your words fell short when you realised you bumped into seonghwa, his phone in one hand and an awkward expression on his face. his eyes widened - and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“hey,” he said finally.

you blinked, letting out a nervous chuckle. “hey,” you raised your free hand in a small wave.

“...can we talk?”

you nodded slowly. “yeah,” you put your drink into your basket. “what’s up?”

seonghwa glanced around, looking at the other shoppers nearby. “maybe not here.”

you nodded, heading to the checkout line without another word.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you sat beside seonghwa on a wooden bench, your grocery bag resting at your feet. the both of you settled down in a park, a quieter and less busy place where you could actually breathe.

you reached for your drink, opening it. “thirsty?” you asked, holding it out to him.

he shook his head.

“i didn’t poison it,” you smirked.

seonghwa gave you a look, his ears turning pink. “you know i feel bad about that,” he muttered.

you chuckled softly, taking a sip. “sorry, sorry,” you said, turning to face him fully. “what did you want to talk about?”

he paused, hesitating as he fiddled with the edge of his jacket. “i just wanted to apologise,” he said finally.

you sighed setting the drink aside. “seonghwa- this is the hundredth time you’ve said that.”

“i know but-”

“i forgive you,” you said, your mouth moving faster than your mind.

his head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. “what?”

“i forgive you,” you repeated, more confidently this time.

“...really?” he asked, completely shocked.

“yeah,” you shrugged. “you saved me. and it’s not like i can stay mad at you forever.”

seonghwa blinked. “you definitely can,” he said. “i wouldn’t blame you for it.”

silence fell between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. 

his fingers brushed against yours accidentally - and he instantly pulled his hand back, his face turning a shade of red. “oh my god- i’m so sorry-”

“seonghwa,” you interrupted, reaching for his hand and holding it gently - his fingers slightly calloused. “stop apologising.”

“i can’t help it,” he admitted quietly.

everything seemed to come to a standstill.

the distant sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling faded into the background. your eyes locked, time pausing.

neither of you spoke.

slowly, almost unconsciously, you both leaned closer. the faint warmth of his breath brushed against your lips, uneven and nervous, mirroring your own.

you blinked, your breath caught in your throat when you realised just how close his face was to yours. “woah..” you whispered.

seonghwa immediately leaned back, clearing his throat. “sorry-”

before he could retreat any further, you reached out instinctively, your fingers curling around his jaw - his skin hot under your touch. “stop saying that,” you mumbled, your thumb brushing lightly against his cheek.

he froze, his eyes searching yours for something - permission, reassurance or maybe a blend of both.

you saw how he looked down at your lips for a split second, his adam’s apple bobbing. “...is this okay?” seonghwa breathed out shakily. 

you smiled softly, your thumb tracing slow circles on his jaw. “of course.”

the moment his lips pressed against yours, the world disappeared. 

his shoulders relaxed as he leaned into you, his hand rising to cup your cheek. his touch was careful, as if he was afraid of hurting you in some way.

your lips moved together in a soft, slow rhythm, the warmth of him spreading through you like a comforting fire. 

the sensation was intoxicating - and you found yourselves melting into each other’s touch. 

seonghwa’s breath hitched as he tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. his heart pounded against yours, a blush creeping up his neck, leaving him lightheaded.

when you finally pulled back, your lips were tingling. and before you could say anything, seonghwa leaned forward again, leaving a trail of kisses along your jawline.

“hey!”

a voice broke the moment like a needle popping a balloon. both of you jumped, your heads snapping toward the sound.

a parent stood not too far away, their hands clamped over their child’s eyes. “please do this at home or something,” they said, glaring at the two of you before walking away quickly.

you and seonghwa exchanged a look, your cheeks flushing as you tried to stifle your laughter.

“yeah,” he said, looking into your eyes, then at your lips. “let’s do this somewhere else.”

series taglist [OPEN] - @hanoishere @scuzmunkie @sinfullygay @arusio @midnightrebel1028 @neemaxx @seungminsrighthand @arilevenatz @ateezswonderland @beabatiny @lemirabitur @sunnyhokyu @frzzenfrxg @cylovesmg @txtsoobean @seonghwasslytherin @sundaybossanova @sweetinsaniiity @cybrnaya @choisanchwego @mrskill2 @devilzliaison @scary-thingz @gaonashi @jonghosbrainrot @mintchocoyum

BONUS SCENE - CUE THE MARIACHI BAND

you stirred awake to the faint aroma of something tasty wafting through the air. groggily, you rubbed your eyes open, only to find seonghwa standing by the bed, a tray in his hands.

“happy anniversary,” he said softly, his lips curving into a smile.

you pushed yourself up on the pillows, your eyes wide with surprise as you took in the tray - a plate of freshly baked bread and scrambled eggs.

“thank you..” you mumbled, half-asleep but touched by the gesture.

seonghwa stepped closer, carefully placing the tray on your lap. he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “eat quickly,” he said with a hint of excitement. “i got you something.”

you raised an eyebrow. “i thought we said no gifts this year.”

he shrugged, smirking. “i lied.”

you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop a smile from forming on your lips. you grabbed a piece of bread and started eating. it was perfect, just like everything he made.

when you were finished, you slid out of bed, wrapping your cardigan tighter around yourself. you walked to where seonghwa was, sitting next to him.

“seonghwa,” you began. “we agreed- no gifts.”

“i know,” he said, reaching for something on the coffee table. “but i changed my mind.”

your eyes landed on the envelope in his hands. you stared at it as he handed it to you, your brows furrowing slightly. “what’s this?” you asked, taking it hesitantly.

“open it.”

sliding your finger under the seal, you pulled out a letter. as your eyes skimmed the words, your jaw dropped.

“...is this-?”

“yeah.”

“you paid for my school?!” you exclaimed in disbelief.

he nodded. “you wanted to be an architect, right?”

“i do but..” you looked at him in shock, the letter trembling in your hands. “isn’t it expensive?”

“so?” he leaned closer to you, pulling you gently towards him.

your lips parted, trying to form words. “but you paid in full-”

“it doesn’t matter,” he cut you off softly, pecking your cheek. “i wanted to do it. for you.”

you searched his eyes, completely stunned. he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. 

when you eventually pulled away, he didn’t let you go fully. instead, he smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “happy anniversary.”

deleted scenes | other fics

[a-tiny-thing]

The Tutor (M)

apologies that this story took so long. it was a long one to write and after writing the later half of it it 2x only for it to get deleted i didn't know if this was ever going to get finished. anyway, hope you like it nonetheless. enjoy ^^

Word Count: approx. 29k Pairing(s): tutor johnny (mr. suh) x fem reader feat. professor jaehyun (mr. jeong) Warning(s): explicit language, mdni (minors do not interact), smut, father johnny, johnny as a dad, infidelity, cheating, tutor x student, dubcon, slow burn, au, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), s*uiriting Preview (no spoilers here lol): Managing to shove them higher you put on a bright smile. “Well, then these are for you Mr. Suh! I also bought you some chocolates. My mom and dad like these. I always get it for them for their anni —” you stop yourself. “Sp-Special occasions. Or when I want something from them.” You turn your almost blunder into a joke. “I also have some flowers and chocolates for Lily. Mr. Jeong told me what her favorites are.”

Again you’re wrapped into a tight embrace. Mr. Suh’s body hunching over until his face is buried in your neck. “Thank you,” he pulls you close to him. “Thank you.” Disclaimer: because of the length of the story i am not able to format it the way i normally do. so again, my apologies. i'll keep this in mind going forward :)

It wasn’t as if you didn’t try. You did everything humanly possible to turn your grades around. Studying to all hours of the night. Going to the tutors on campus for help — all of which ran for the hills when they saw you coming. Even asking your bestie, Doyoung, for help. Knowing full well what a pickle you were in he volunteered as well. However, when he saw how truly helpless you were he forfeited and told you to change career paths.

Currently in your second year at Neo University, you were acing every class except one. One single class in which you were warned about. No one passed with flying colors, even Doyoung struggled. Doyoung, the Valedictorian when the two of you were in High School — excelling in his classes with flying colors in Elemntary and Middle school, but when it came to this class — barely passing with a D+. This class was a different beast all together. Some girls in your dormitory actually cried when their final grades came in. Only sending shivers down your spine for the following semester where you too would find yourself in tears time and time again. 

Sadly, all of your feeble attempts only resounded in a giant letter in blood red ink, F. Again! This has been your fifth F of the semester. Thankfully completing all of the homework assignments, even the extra problems was keeping your head above water. But still, an F was not what you wanted to see. Not only that, your teacher decided to emphasize the triumph with a thick red circle. And to top it off, scribbled underneath, ‘stay after class,’ written in beautiful cursive handwriting. This was it. The talk. You were dreading this moment. Every year, every teacher from primary school to secondary has given you the talk. 

‘What is wrong?’ ‘What aren’t you understanding?’ ‘If you were struggling this much you should have asked for help!’ ‘Have you tried a private tutor?’ Groaning you let your head fall flat onto your desk. Mr. Jeong wasn’t going to be any different. He was going to say the same things you’ve heard all your life. 

At this point you were sure that Math was just a big douche who loved to shit on you time and time again. Your personal kryptonite in the world. All of the functions, equations, a million fucking ways to do one single problem because some sick twisted asshole came around and said ‘hey, I’ve discovered a new method,’ only adding to everyone’s frustrations! Yeah, Math hated you and you hated it. Case closed.

When the bell rang and everyone scattered out of the classroom all to eager to leave, you stayed back, as instructed. Raising his arm and slicking back his dark brown hair — a habit Mr. Jeong had that made all the girls swoon, yourself included, he made his approach. Eyes dead set on you. Lips in a hard line, he pulled out the chair in front and turned it to face your desk before sitting down. 

“I’m guessing you know why I’ve asked you to stay back,” he starts a long tired sigh leaving him.

“I swear I’m trying!” You rush to get everything out before he even has a chance to ask you the same questions every other teacher has asked you. “I went down to the tutoring classroom. They all have decided I’m a lost cause. I even asked my friend who took your class last semester! He only looked at me like I’m stupid. I’m not stupid by the way,” you hiss surprising Mr. Jeong. A tiny smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve struggled with Math my whole life. No matter how hard I try to study I just can’t seem to grasp any of the concepts. At this point I’m pretty sure it’s my arch nemesis!”

“Why didn’t you seek my help from the very beginning?” He asks calmly.

“I don’t want to look like an idiot right off the bat! I hate being peoples’ ‘little project.’” You roll your eyes at the label you’ve been placed with since childhood.

Turning his head away Mr. Jeong covers his growing smile with the back of his hand disguising it as a cough. “Well, I for one don’t think you’re stupid.” 

“Really?!” 

If this were some kind of anime you know you’d be looking at him with shaky watery eyes, grateful that someone finally sees you — not as an idiot but as someone who has the capability to accomplish their hearts desires! But since is reality you settle for a stunned expression, your mouth hanging open.

“I just think you need some guidance. May I see your test?” Nodding you grab the paper from your folder sliding it to him. “Right here, you used the right equation, but made the tiniest error here,” he points with a blue pen circling the area of your mistake. Thank heavens it wasn’t a red pen. By the end of college you’ll never want to see the color red again.

Looking up at Mr. Jeong stunned you shake your head in disbelief. “S-So I just goofed?”

“Well, yes and no. Do you go over your work and double, triple check your answers?”

“I never know if I’m right or wrong and I get freaked out and second guess myself. So I just think it is what it is and hand in my paper. I promise I’ll triple, no! Quadruple check my work next time!”

“Checking your work is only half the problem. You still aren’t understanding all the equations.” He points to a few problems on the second page. “The equations are all wrong. You mixed the second page equation setup with the third page. So, ultimately, all of the answers are wrong.”

Groaning you slam your head on your desk. Mr. Jeong moving his hands away just in time before you made another blunder and crushed his fingers. “Maybe I am stupid. I’m sorry, Mr. Jeong.” 

“You’re not stupid. Please don’t call yourself that and please don’t slam your head down that hard. You’ll hurt yourself. Now, sadly, I myself am booked up solid with tutoring some of my other students. But, I do have a friend who I know can help you.”

“Really?!” You practically spring up from your seat.

“Y-Yes,” he moves away from you eyeing you suspiciously. “His name is Johnny Suh. He teaches Mathematics at a high school not far from here. If you don’t mind I can give him a call and see if he’s available to help you.”

“Yes! Please, Mr. Jeong! My mom is going to kill me if my grades don’t start taking a turn for the better.”

And with that you stand outside of Mr. Suh’s house, or mansion. Your head tilts to the side wondering how in the hell a high school teacher is able to live in a home that can be used in itself as a small school for children. Checking down at the address Mr. Jeong gave you, you check to make sure you were in the right spot. 7716 Zennie Drive. 

Shrugging you ring the doorbell and place a gentle knock on the door. After your talk with Mr. Jeong, the following day when you had his class he pulled you to the side as you walked in. Stating he talked to Mr. Suh, and he was more than willing to be your tutor. 

Apparently the two went way back to their early high school days as best friends. You were told you’d be taken care of but the only time Mr. Suh’s schedule was free was Wednesday, Friday and Saturday from 4PM to 7PM. Thankfully, you scheduled all your classes in the morning hours — your last class ending at 12PM, giving you ample time to eat and rest up before heading over to whom you hope is your saving grace. 

But the door has remained closed. No movement. No sounds coming from inside. Checking your phone you made sure that today was in fact, Wednesday. Yep. And it was 4:14PM. Having trouble locating the home at first put you behind schedule. Yet, you’re still standing outside the massive door and no one appears to be home. 

“Mr. Suh!” You knock on the door. 

Stepping back you wait. Shuffling back and forth you try to focus on any signs of life coming from behind the door when a blood curdling scream comes from the other side of the house.

Jumping at the sound your hand goes to your heart. “What the —” Looking around hoping you weren’t the only one who heard the scream you find yourself alone. Great…

Reaching into your pocket you grab your keys which hold not only a whistle, but a fresh new canister of pepper spray. Gripping the spray tightly in your hand you slowly make your way around the side of the house. 

“M-Mr. Suh…” you whisper. No answer. Sticking yourself to the wall of the home you make your way around the first corner only to see something you didn’t expect.

“No!” Another high-pitched scream pierces your ears.

“I’m going to get you!” An older gentleman chases after a small girl in a tutu around a massive backyard.

“No! The evil troll king!” The little girl wails. 

“Get back here with my gold!”

Blinking a few times you hope your mind is making up the scene in front of you. This is Mr. Suh?! The man in front of you appears to be around the same age as Mr. Jeong, but he is much more…he lets out such a light hearted laugh that you step back from him, handsome!!!

“Lord help me…” you whisper to yourself.

Mr. Jeong was already the hottest teacher on campus. Granted, not exactly your type. He held some kind of mystery behind his eyes that unsettled you the numerous times you made eye contact with him. Perhaps it was a look of pity he had knowing you were bombing his class, but there was something darker and mysterious. Something that made your stomach twist and turn. 

Many girls would gawk and stare when he’d walk across campus after his classes ended before his break. Admittedly so have you. Every time he walked it seemed as if there was a red carpet or some type of runway he was strutting down. The man was a living breathing luxury brand model! Definitely up there with the Versace or Prada models. 

Mr. Suh, gulping the saliva that was threatening to pour from your parted lips — he was a different type of handsome, and absolutely your type. Short jet black hair sticks to his forehead the longer he plays with the little girl. A loose fitted white button down shirt, with three buttons undone revealing a glimpse of his chest. A broad ches, and just the thought of what he looks like shirtless has your heart beating faster. You were entering dangerous waters with your gawking but you continued. Loose fitted trousers that didn’t give way to the shape of his legs but with the overall size of Mr. Suh, he absolutely has muscular legs. He just screamed toned.

“U-Uh,” you try to find your voice holding up your hand. “E-Excuse me,” you manage to squeak out.

Freezing, the little girl and who you assume is Mr. Suh turn in your direction. 

“Daddy!” The little girl cries out before running behind him. Her tiny hands clenching onto his pants — eyes peeking around him to look at you, before hiding once more.

Daddy? You stare wide-eyed. He’s a father, already?!

“I’m sorry,” you start to back away. “I don’t mean to intrude. I heard a scream and —”

“It’s fine,” a chuckle comes from the man. “You’re the student Jaehyun sent over, right?”

“Jaehyun?” Your head tilts. “M-Mr. Jeong?” 

Nodding, Mr. Suh walks forward, his daughter still clinging to him for dear life. “Sorry, yes. Mr. Jeong,” Johnny towers over you. “I’m Johnny Suh, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reaches out his hand.

Saying your name quickly, you enclose your hand around his only to gasp at the size difference. “N-Nice to meet you too…” you say in awe.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long. I lost track of time. This is my daughter, Lily.” He gestures to the girl glaring at you from behind him.

Bending down to her level you try to give her your sweetest smile. “Hi, Lily. It’s nice to meet you.”

“No!” She shouts at you and runs away from you and into the house.

“U-Uhhh…” a sliver of sweat rolls down the side of your face. 

“Lily!” Mr. Suh shouts. “I’m sorry, for her behavior. I think she’s a little shy.” He brushes his hair out of his face. “Please, come inside. So, Jaehyun told me you’re having trouble in his class,” he starts off the conversation.

“Y-Yes,” you quickly follow behind him. “No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to understand a single thing he’s teaching. I’ve tried asking for help on campus but no one seems to want to deal with me. It’s sad to say that you too may fall prey to my idiocy and drop me as well.”

Chuckling Mr. Suh slides open the glass door leading straight into the kitchen. “I’m sure we can figure out what the problem is.”

“I hope so. My mom’s going to kill me if my grades don’t improve soon.”

Taking off your shoes at the door you’re led to a small table in front of a window. “Please, have a seat and I’ll be right back. Would you like anything to drink while you wait?”

“A glass of water would be lovely.”

Heading over to his cupboard he grabs down a glass, goes to the fridge and pours you some water. Thinking he would do what your father always does when you ask for a glass of water and get it from the tap — this was definitely an act of kindness. 

“I’m just going to go check on Lily, then I’ll be right back.”

“I can leave and come back some other time if this is an inconvenience for you. I don’t want to take your time away from your daughter.”

“Nonsense. She’s just a little crabby today,” he rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t you get your book out and start on your assignment and I’ll be right back.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod and scramble to take out your book and binder.

When Mr. Suh was out of earshot you exhale a long deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. This is terrible. Absolutely terrible! Taking out your phone you shoot a quick message to your best friend Jennifer.

I’m in deep shit!  My tutor is soooo hot! Like fucking hot!  And he’s sooo tall! What do I do Jen?!!!!

Hiding your phone under your leg you wait for her reply. Having seen the time, she should be getting out of soccer practice soon and heading for the lockers. Twiddling your pencil in your hand you try to focus on the problem staring back at you.

This was going to be grueling. How is it that for the last year and a half you haven’t stepped foot in front of a man you thought was handsome — but when you need help because you’re a dumbass, the Universe places a walking Greek God before you? 

Then again, you scoff. “He’s married, you idiot.” You whisper. “And he’s a dad! Focus!!”

Finding a smidge of peace from your rampant thoughts you get to work. The homework seemed easy when Mr. Jeong was explaining it. All you had to do was follow the equation that you just learned. Simple enough.

Or so you thought... An eon went by and you were still staring at the first problem. Pencil snagged between your teeth, bite marks up and down the piece of wood. A personal habit you picked up specifically from Mr. Jeong’s class.

“You use this, to solve this.” You start talking to yourself quietly. “Then why is it so damn hard to solve this problem?!” 

“Stuck already?” A voice whispers next to your ear.

Jumping back, your phone crashing to the floor and you stare wide-eyed at Mr. Suh. With a small cat-like grin he takes a seat next to you, picking up your phone in the process.

“Didn’t mean to startle you. You were just hyper focused and I couldn’t resist.”

“Uh, y-yeah,” you reach for your phone only for it to slip out of your hands. “Shit,” you curse.

“About the language,” Mr. Suh clears his throat.

“Oh no!” You pop your head up from under the table. “Yes. No. I’m sorry. I know you have a child. I’m just nervous I guess. Please forgive me. It won’t happen again.”

Nodding he leans back in his chair. “Why are you nervous? Is Jaehyun stressing you out with all the work?”

“No!” You shout. “I mean,” you try to speak calmly. “I’m just nervous that you’ll find out I’m unteachable.”

“No one is unteachable. I’m sure Jaehyun will tell you the same thing. He’s given me a heads up on what you’re having trouble with, but if you don’t mind me asking, may I see your tests?”

Horror befalls you. He can’t be serious. He doesn’t actually want to see that travesty. Surely Mr. Jeong told him how much of a dumbass you were. He has to know that you are in desperate need of help.

“My-My tests?” 

“Yes. I want to see exactly where you’re struggling. This tutoring is going to be in regards to your Final. For the next two and a half months I’m going to try my best to bring your grade up so you can pass and put this class and Jaehyun behind you. In order to do that, I need to see everything that you’re struggling with.”

“Fine…” Opening your binder you fish out all of your tests and quizzes. Every proof of your failure. “I’ll understand if you want to quit while you’re ahead.” You squint your eyes tightly as you slide the papers over to him.

“Oh stop it can’t be —” he pauses mid-sentence his mouth falling open. “Oh, wow…” he mumbles.

“Yep. Told you. I’m stupid. Still want to take on this walking nightmare?”

“I mean he told me you were really struggling but I didn’t think this badly.” He glances up at you for a second to see the pout on your lips and in your eyes. “I’m not going to run away. I’m just shocked he waited until you were this deep in the hole to do something.” 

“Maybe he thought I would magically get better.”

“He said his schedule is booked solid with tutoring other students?” 

“Yep.”

“He’s so blind,” Mr. Suh shakes his head. “Okay, how about today I help you with your homework for Monday, and by tomorrow I’ll have a study plan and a guide all made up for you!” 

“Eh?! You still want to help me? Are you sure? I won’t be upset if you say no. Even my best friend abandoned me.”

Laughing he waves a dismissive hand. “Believe it or not, Jaehyun wasn’t the Math genius he is today. Even when he was back in college he struggled a little. We all need help every now and then.”

“Thank you, Mr. Suh! I won’t let you down!”

Just like he promised, he helped you with your homework. Shockingly only looking at you incredulously a few times when he needed to dumb everything down for you to the point his daughter would be able to understand. Feeling a little better after your first tutoring session, you head back to your dorm with your head held high. Maybe this was going to be your second wind. A power up to keep you in the game.

You were sure of one thing. You would not let Mr. Suh down. 

When you got to your dorm room your best friend, Jennifer was waiting impatiently outside the door. Her fingers being gnawed by her teeth. “Where the hell have you been? I was worried about you. I tried calling and texting back.”

“Eh?” You grab your phone. “My phone was on the whole —” you press the home button but it doesn’t turn on. “This can’t be. I charged it before I left. I had a full battery.”

Pressing the small button on the side you find your phone had been turned off completely. A cold shiver rakes over you. Did Mr. Suh turn off your phone when he picked it up? Your Lock Screen appearing, a text from your friend the only thing displayed.

A hot tutor?! How hot is he? A scale of 0-10? Take a picture I want to see!

Gulping you show her your phone. “I-I think Mr. Suh turned off my phone. Jen! What do I do? What if he saw your message?! How can I show my face around him again? He probably thinks I’m disgusting! He’s a married man with a child! What do I do?!” You stomp around like a child as you open your door.

“Don’t freak out. Maybe he just turned it off. He could have a no phone policy.”

“You think?”

Nodding she ushers you to your bed where she plops down beside you. “So, tell me everything! Seriously! How hot is he?”

Giving his daughter one last kiss, Johnny wishes her a goodnight and sweet dreams. Today was a day like no other. Little did he know when he decided to take on this job of being a tutor would he find out that his student needed a savior imstead. Sighing he reaches into his pocket for his phone. 

Jaehyun had a lot of explaining to do. Why he didn’t tell him you were so far behind in your studies? When he said one of his students needs help and he’s booked solid he assumed it was just a normal case of an over achieving student. Seeing your grades brought on a whole other problem. You would need to get at least a B+ on your final to even have a passing grade. Why would he let you get so far behind, and how does Jaehyun expect you to get your grades up in such a short period of time?

It just didn’t make sense. Jaehyun has always been active in the Math Lab, as well as private tutoring jobs on the weekends. During his breaks he helps any student who can’t meet up with him after his usual working hours. Something had to be up. There is no way he would let you slip through the cracks like this.

Holding the phone to his ear, Johnny steps away from his daughters room.

“Hey!” Jaehyun says on the other end. “How did it go?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Johnny hisses quietly. “Why did you let her get to this point? When I saw her grades I thought I was seeing things! Seriously, Jaehyun…what the hell is going on?”

“I didn’t intend for this to happen.” Jaehyun snaps defensively. “I’ve been booked solid since the semester started. She was doing poor in the beginning but so were a lot of other students. This course is one of the hardest courses to teach and learn. I figured if she was really having trouble she would ask me for help or go to the Math Lab.”

“She’s in deep trouble, you know that, right?”

“Of course I know that. Which is why I sent her to you. Plus,” Jaehyun pauses alarming Johnny. “I wouldn’t have been a good tutor for her anyway.”

“Why not? You’re her teacher! You know all the answers! How would you not be a good tutor?” Johnny heads for his study.

Mumbling into the phone Jaehyun confesses. “A conflict of interest.”

Stopping dead in his tracks Johnny stares out into the empty hallway. Jaehyun had to be kidding. He couldn’t have possibly — “For fuck’s sake, man…”

“I know. I didn’t intend for this to happen. I don’t even know when it happened. But it did. That’s why I sent her to you. You are the only person who can help her. I talked to those in the Math Lab and they can barely help the students who understand the basic concepts of what I’m teaching. She was never going to get help from them. I would help her but I can’t.” 

“No shit!” Johnny rubs his forehead feeling a migraine slowly creeping up. “I’ll handle things here. She seems to need a lot of one-on-one guidance. What you’re teaching her isn’t hard but at the same time it is. Exactly what major is she in?”

“Well, this class is for those who are education majors. Primarily those who want to teach either Elementary or Middle School. Sorry for all this. I really wish I could help.”

“Yeah, I know. I may need to push some things around,” Johnny opens the door to his study. Off to the side a liquor cabinet rests with his favorite brands of wine, brandy and vodka. Putting his phone on speaker he pours himself a glass of vodka. The tension already leaving his body. “If I’m to help her get a B, she’ll need help everyday.” He chugs down the hard liquor wincing as it burns the back of his throat.

“What about Lily?”

Laughing, Johnny plops down into his chair. Your face when Lily ran away from you resurfacing. “Lily got scared of her and ran away. She asked me who she was and then asked if she would be around a lot more,” he smiles gently. “She had such a sour face it was hilarious.”

“So, Lily’s staying strong?” Jaehyun asks gently. 

Swirling the small amount of liquid left in his glass Johnny exhales. “As good as can be expected. She still doesn’t understand what’s going on. Hell, neither do I.”

“Have you heard from —”

Johnny quickly stops him. “No! And I don’t want to talk about her,” he glares at the snug silver ring wrapped around his finger. A daily reminder of the love of his life’s betrayal. “I’m done with her.” He touches the ring, fiddling with it. “I’ve given up. It’s been two years. I need to focus on Lily.” He slides the ring up his finger but pushes it back down. 

“I really am sorry man. I thought she was the one.”

“Me too…”

Looking at the problems you do exactly what Mr. Suh told you to do. Breathe. Take your time. Go through each step slowly. There is no need to rush when it comes to homework. It’s all about understanding the basic fundamentals and building confidence. Solve the problem and get an answer. Check so that you don’t miss anything and especially check to see if you made a mistake and got the answer wrong. Everything seemed to be going great. For once your confidence seemed like it was soaring. Then again…

“Only three right?!” You slam your pencil down onto your small desk in your room. This was useless. For the past two hours you worked hard to try to figure out the problems. Doing exactly as instructed only to end up with three out of seven answers right!

The worst part is that you don’t understand where you got the problems wrong. Which part did you have a hiccup and why you didn’t see it and how you can avoid it for next time. You did everything right. Triple checked to see if you missed a step or did something wrong and yet, the same thing happens. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

Closing your book for the night you trudge to your bed plopping down. Tomorrow you’ll ask Mr. Suh where you made a mistake and hopefully he can help you.

Mr. Suh, you try to hold back the smile creeping on your face. After having talked with Jennifer you were for sure going to love and dread spending time with him. Love, getting help and finally seeing your grades turn around for the better — at least that’s what you’re hoping, but also for the eye candy factor. His whole presence just made you feel weak in the knees. The dreadful part, actually having to learn all this bullshit your University was calling Math and the fact that Mr. Suh is a married man. 

“His wife,” you whisper. “Why wasn’t she home too?”

Shrugging, you tear your thoughts away from her unknown whereabouts. Whoever she is she’s most likely beautiful. To find a man as handsome as Mr. Suh, and have a cute daughter like Lily, she’s bound to be a gorgeous woman. Someone who works to help others just like Mr. Suh being a teacher and willing to help you. A power couple and their precious angel.

Rolling over onto your back aggressively, you kick your legs like a child. If only you could find your one true love too. To have what Mr. Suh has. Actually, first, you need to get through Mr. Jeong’s class, then find yourself a job, and then you can worry about finding a man. Just as your eyes start to close your phone dings startling you. An unknown number and a message sits on your Lock Screen, making you spring up.

Next time the cellphone gets turned off when the lesson begins. No distractions while you’re under my tutelage. You can swing by tomorrow around 1PM. We’ll have more time to work. Sleep well. You’ll need it. J.Suh

And boy was he serious when he said you would need sleep. Actually, for the past three weeks he’s been working you like a dog. Having put together and entire binder of what to expect on the Final. What you didn’t understand from all of your quizzes, tests, and the Midterm. A Bible of information completely personalized to suit your needs. Every day you went over to Mr. Suh’s house to get help. When you showed up on Saturday after your first study session, he stated he thinks you should come by every day. Monday through Friday your lessons were from 3PM- 7PM. On Saturday’s, secretly the worst day out of the week, you spent six grueling hours being tutored. Sunday your only saving grace.

Honestly, how a man who teaches all day can have the energy to help your dumbass self is beyond you. But, there was a silver lining. At the end of each day, Mr. Suh would create a tiny three question pop quiz talking about the main concepts he helped you with. And after the first week — a complete travesty, you actually started to grow in confidence. The problems were making sense and with this last pop quiz, you got all the answers right! 

His method of madness was actually working. He taught you something! After that small victory you were positive you could end up learning what Mr. Jeong was teaching and you would find a way to turn your grades around. On the topic of grades, that is one thing Mr. Suh never talked to you about. On three separate occasions you asked him what grade you needed to get on your final in order to pass. He would brush the question off by saying,

‘The final is a long ways from now. Let’s focus on your upcoming test.’ 

However, today is the day you’re getting back your first test since you started getting tutored by Mr. Suh. When you were taking it, you heart started to beat quickly. The numbers and questions becoming blurred and spiraling out of control but thinking about everything you’ve learned you took a deep breath and focused. The whole class was empty by the time you finished. Mr. Jeong waiting patiently as you took up until the bell to complete it. 

Now, you’ll see whether or not your efforts were in vain — that is as soon as Mr. Jeong shuts up and hands you back your damn test! 

“Okay, you can start packing up,” Mr. Jeong places the whiteboard marker down onto his desk. “I’ll be handing back your tests from last week. Please if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to ask me.”

Your leg starts to shake. Your pencil rammed into your mouth. This is it. He makes his way across the first row. One by one you see your classmates expressions. Some surprised, some angry, some���well, you know that look all to well. Defeated. As you stare at each of your classmates your nerves start to take over you. Your whole body tingling with anticipation. Mr. Suh would be in the middle of teaching his second class by now and told you to send him a message about how you did around lunchtime. 

Mr. Jeong stops in front of you. His eyes unreadable. Lips in a hard line. He grabs the corner of your paper flipping it over onto the back before moving onto the next student. Saying a quick prayer you turn the paper over. 

Your whole body becomes numb. A cold sweat spreading over your skin like wildfire. This can’t be happening. Flipping through the pages of your test you go over everything with a fine tooth comb. But it was happening. In very bold and almost threatening letters, ‘stay after,’ was bleeding through the first page onto the second. 

The bell rings and everyone leaves except for you. Again. Not even bothering to pack up your belongings until after Mr. Jeong had a word with you, you wait until the last student leaves his classroom. He wishes them well and closes the door. Gulping you sit up straight. 

“I think we should talk about your test,” Mr. Jeong starts.

“Y-Yes, sir…”

He saunters up to you, once again seeming like the ground is his runway — pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down. Combing his fingers through his hair he shows you something you never expected to see. A huge smile with his dimples on display. 

“Congrats!” He leans back into the chair. “You did a wonderful job!”

“Wonderful?!” You scoff. “I got a C- practically a D! How is that wonderful?!” You point to the paper. “After all this work I thought I would for sure get an A this time.”

Laughing, Mr. Jeong turns his face to hide his rather beautiful smile. Something else you would have never expected to see from him. 

“Trust me. You did a wonderful job. You can’t expect in such a short time to see massive results. You should feel proud of yourself.” He rests his hands on your desk. “Seriously, this is making me feel that you won’t have to take this course again next semester.”

“That would be a gift from God himself,” you mumble only to realize what you said. “Ah! S-Sorry Mr. Jeong, it’s just —”

“I understand. When I had to learn how to teach this course I wanted to run away myself. It’s not easy and I know it’s hard to learn. I’m just glad you’re doing better.”

“Well, it’s thanks to you and Mr. Suh. I owe everything to the two of you.”

“Speaking of Mr. Suh, how is everything?”

“Great!” You beam at him. “Mr. Suh went through all of my old tests and quizzes and pointed out where I made mistakes. How to solve the problems and how to find my errors,” you bring out the binder he created for you. “He’s gone above and beyond anything I’ve ever experienced and I’m so grateful for that.” 

Mr. Jeong takes a look at the binder his eyes widening. You were right. This was going above and beyond the call of duty. Scanning over the little quizzes he’s even given you, Mr. Jeong’s happy demeanor starts to fade. He was happy you were doing better, but at the same time he knows full well he would have never thought of doing this for you or any of his students. 

“Impressive,” he clears his throat. “I’ll have to treat Johnny to a beer or two for his help.” He hands you back the binder. “So, everything is okay? He’s treating you nicely?”

“Oh, yes! He’s very nice! I’m truly grateful for all the help he’s given me.”

Nodding, Mr. Jeong leans forward. “I’m happy for you. I do want to apologize for not trying to do something to help you sooner.”

“No. It’s totally fine. It was my fault. I should have asked for help, or asked questions in class — something so that my grades didn’t fall to this point. Oh! Mr. Jeong, I’ve been wondering, exactly what grade do I need to get on my final in order to pass your class? Mr. Suh keeps avoiding the question which is making me a little nervous.”

“Oh, uh,” Mr. Jeong turns from you his eyes trembling. “I think if Mr. Suh wants you to focus on your studies that’s what you need to worry about. The final is still some time away.”

Pouting you glare at him. “It’s going to be impossible for me to pass this class isn’t it?”

“No, it’s just going to take a lot of work,” he rubs the back of his neck. “If you want, we can get a better look at your grades and what you need to do in order to pass this class.”

“Yes, please!”

“Well, I’m free for this break period. Unless you have a class.”

“Nope. My next class doesn’t start until 11.” 

“Great, follow me then.”

Quickly you pack up your belongings into your backpack and follow Jaehyun through the hallway where people were coming and going to their classes. As you make your way through the halls you notice that people are staring your way with strange gazes. They weren’t shocked, or angry, more like perplexed with a dash of spite. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. 

Jeong Jaehyun, Mr. Jeong, the campus hottie. The Professor every girl and woman wishes to have but only those in the Education department ever get. Joy and rapture. Walking beside him you glance up to see his side profile. He is very handsome. Eyes laser focused on the path he’s walking. Shoulders straight, broad, with a natural sway that shows nothing but confidence. Even his strides excude confidence. Upon further inspection he dresses nicely as well. 

On most occasions he wears a button down white shirt, black slacks, with black shoes and a gold watch. Very simple yet on him, luxurious. The only person you think that can compete with such a simple style is Mr. Suh. Laughing to yourself you see how they became friends. They have a similar aura about them but Mr. Suh is a lot easier to be around. Then again, it’s probably because he’s not your Professor and you’re not terrified of failing his class.

“Exactly how long are you going to stare at me?” Mr. Jeong asks you a playful tone in his voice. 

“E-Eh?! Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” 

Keeping your eyes down at your feet you walk a few steps behind him ashamed of your ogling. It wasn’t like you to stare at someone so shamelessly. Then to be caught red handed, the embarrassment sweeping over you is all consuming. 

“I don’t mind the staring,” Mr. Jeong continues. “I get stared at all the time.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I really didn’t mean to stare.”

“Please, class is over. You can call me Jaehyun.”

Stopping dead in your tracks you stare at your Professor. There is no way in hell you can call him, Jaehyun. You are his student and he the teacher. It would be improper. 

“I don’t think I can,” you chuckle nervously.

“When you’re with Johnny, what do you call him?”

“Mr. Suh.”

“All the time?”

Nodding you smile. “He is my tutor after all. He’s there to help me. Not to be my friend. Plus, he’s already taking a good chunk of his time to help me instead of spending it with his wife and daughter.”

“His wife?” Mr. Jeong walks up to you. “What do you mean his wife?” He grabs you by your shoulders.

“U-Uh, well I haven’t seen her at all, but he has a wedding band.”

Sighing in relief Mr. Jeong releases your shoulders. “Oh, okay. Sorry about that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Has Johnny talked to you about his wife?”

“No, she never comes up in conversation. Actually, nothing personal has come up at all. It’s strictly school work and studying.”

Nodding Mr. Jeong starts walking again, heading down the stairs. The light atmosphere surrounding the two of you long gone the moment you mentioned Mr. Suh’s wife. Was she a sensitive topic? For the last three weeks you’ve wondered why each night you never saw her. By the time your tutoring sessions ended it was 7PM, she would have at least come home by then. 

A thought strikes across your mind. What if she’s sick? What if she can’t get out of bed and that’s the reason you’ve never seen her. Slowly your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Mr. Suh’s wife lying in bed ill. Not able to play with her precious daughter, or spend time with her husband in their beautiful home — at least what you’ve seen of it. Smiling brightly you plan out something just for her. A gift that will hopefully brighten her day. 

Holding open the door to the side of the building, Mr. Jeong allows you to walk outside first. “Mr. Jeong,” you keep up with his pace. “What type of woman is Mr. Suh’s wife?”

“She, uh,” he starts fumbling over his words. A strange sight for the suave Professor everyone adores. “Wh-Why do you want to know?”

“I want to get her something. I can only assume that since I’ve never seen her she must be sick, right? I can’t imagine what Mr. Suh must be going through. Juggling work, his daughter, his wife, and now me. He truly is a saint.”

“No. You’ve got it all wrong,” he grabs your wrist stopping you. “Johnny, his wife, she’s not sick.”

Your heart that was wading in the dark depths of your stomach instantly bounces back to its proper place. “Well that’s wonderful news! I still want to thank her for sharing her husband. I know all this tutoring must be an inconvenience for her. I was thinking of getting her chocolates and flowers. Does that sound like a good idea?”

Shaking his head Mr. Jeong runs a stressful hand through his hair. “No. It doesn’t. She won’t get them.”

“Why won’t she?”

“She left. She’s gone. Don’t ever bring her up in front of Johnny or Lily.”

Gasping you cover your mouth with your hands. “Sh-She died?!”

Sighing, Mr. Jeong grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours he leads you straight to the student center. The stares that you receive inside the Mathematics building has now tripled. Mr. Jeong’s eyes glaring ahead making everyone part way as if he were Moses and they the Red Sea. Looking down at your hands intertwined with his, your heart skips a beat. This was inappropriate, especially on campus. If someone saw you and asked you what the hell was with the hand holding how would you explain it?

Trying to tug your hand away from his he holds onto you tighter. Glancing back at you for a second, brows furrowed and his lips in the tightest line they all but disappeared. He was in no mood for you to try to escape. Letting go of the possibility of walking next to him you get tugged along like an insolent child. 

Straight into the Student Center you’re taken into the elevator where he keeps a firm hold of your hand. Only when the elevator reaches the third floor does he let go — his peers and other campus staff becoming visible. Greeting everyone whom he sees cheerfully he takes you back to his office. Opening the door he tells you to have a seat at the available chair in front of his desk. Quickly sitting you hold your backpack against your chest terrified of what he’s going to say to you. He takes a seat exhaling deeply, eyes and face looking exhausted. 

“You don’t have to look so scared.” He slides into his desk facing you.

“You looked like you were going to yell at me any second while you dragged me across campus.”

“I’m sorry about that. I just needed to get you to a quiet secluded place before I continued our conversation.”

“Why did it need to be quiet and secluded?”

“The whole campus doesn’t need to know about my best friend’s problems. Plus, you know people around here. Whether they have the whole story or not what they hear they talk about. Now, what I’m going to tell you needs to stay between the two of us. I will know if you tell anyone because no one and I repeat no one knows Johnny, and no one knows what is going on in his life. So if I hear his name or his daughter’s name and what is going on I will fail you!”

“Isn’t that blackmail?” You tilt your head. “Also, I’m pretty sure you can’t fail me without a legitimate reason.” Mr. Jeong stares at you blankly. He really wasn’t in the mood for lighthearted jokes. “I’m sorry. I understand.”

“Johnny and Lily were left behind by his wife and her mother. One night while he was in his study she packed a bag and left without telling him where she would was going and for how long. It was right after Lily’s third birthday. She’s now five. They haven’t heard a word from her for over two years. He’s sensitive when it comes to her. 

“If you think he’s married it means he still has his wedding band on. For the last year he’s told me he’s done with her. He’s done waiting and that he doesn’t want to see or hear from her ever again, but if you saw that he still has his ring on — that means he’s still holding onto the hope that she’ll come back. Lily doesn’t remember her mom that much, but she does ask about her. If she asks you don’t tell her anything. Johnny’s told her that she is sick and in a special hospital.”

“Why doesn’t he tell her the truth?”

“She’s five. She wouldn’t understand.”

“Still, when she gets older and the ‘mom is sick and in the hospital’ story stops working what will he do then? Tell his daughter that her father is a liar. So not only did her mother ditch her but now her father is a liar.”

He shakes his head sighing. “You’re young, you don’t understand.”

“Mr. Jeong, I may be young, but I’m not stupid. My father has kept me a secret from his entire family. Apparently their super religious who at the time that he ran away were two seconds from joining a cult. He told me right away when I was old enough to understand why I couldn’t see his family. I’ve only grown up with my mom’s side. 

“For years they had to repeat the story until it sunk in, but they were honest. If I had questions they let me ask them no matter how many times they had to answer the same questions. Lily is young now, but she is five years old. What will Mr. Suh do when she realizes that her father can’t keep telling her that mommy is in the hospital and him not taking her to see her once. She’s going to realize that.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your family,” Mr. Jeong looks at you bewildered. “I understand your point, but she’s his daughter.”

Mr. Jeong was right. Neither he or you or anyone else had the right to tell Mr. Suh how to raise his own child. He knows what’s best for her. If he thinks she’s still too young to understand it is in her best interest to keep things a secret. Plus, his wife may one day come back into her life. It probably is better for her to be left in the dark for now.

“Do you believe she’ll ever come back?”

“I hope she doesn’t. He’s my best friend. I watched a man who was living out his dream life with the woman he loves come crashing down to earth without a parachute. All because of her selfishness. So, no. I don’t want her back. She’ll only hurt him and leave him again when things get tough.”

“Being a wife and mother was too much for her?”

“No one knows. She never talked to anyone at all about what she was going through. Not even Johnny.” 

“Do you think Lily would like some flowers and chocolates then?” A smile comes to your face. “I have been borrowing her dad for the past three weeks. I feel terrible for taking up so much of his time.”

Leaning back in his chair, Mr. Jeong smiles sweetly. Dimples on full view, eyes sparkling with something you can’t quite pinpoint. “I think she would love that.”

“Okay. I’ll be sure to head out and get some goodies for her before I go over to his house today. Now, about my grades…”

When lunch came around you sent a photo of your grade with a text saying that Mr. Jeong was very proud of you. Putting your phone up to charge you head off to take a small nap before you go out and look for some flowers and chocolates for Lily, and even something for Mr. Suh to show your appreciation.

Now knowing why you haven’t seen his wife you can’t help but wonder why she left in the first place. Their home is beautiful, Lily from the small glances you’ve seen of her before she scurries away — apparently still cautious of you, is a lovely child and she’s cute as a button! Mr. Suh is, well, delectable, so why did she leave?

Trying not to dwell too much on Mrs. Suh’s absence, you head off to dreamland hoping to get some rest before another grueling day of studying. But, instead of getting a decent rest, your brain apparently concocted a very intense and wet dream. Starring none other than Mr. Suh.

It started out like a normal tutoring session. You were trying your best to solve a problem, but kept messing up. Mr. Suh in his usual lounge wear, a loose fitted shirt — exposing just enough of his chest to have you drooling, leans over to you giving you a chance to be wrapped in the heavenly aroma of his cologne. As he helps you to solve the problem you can feel his breath tickling your neck. His lips feel so close that you swear he presses them against your skin, but he never laid a hand on you. 

Once he was finished explaining he waited patiently until you finished. Eyes watching you carefully, roaming up and down your face when you meet his gaze. His irises seemed darker, pupils dilated, and mouth ajar as he bit his pen gently between his beautiful white teeth. 

Feeling shy you get back to your work when a hand on your thigh makes you look up, only to meet Mr. Suh’s lips. A whimper escapes you. His large strong hands cupping your face keeping you close to him. Lips smacking against each other’s, you melted into the kiss and his touch. One hand traveling down your body until it reaches your waist. Gripping you tightly he pulls you over to him. Half your body dangling over his lap. 

“Sit on my lap.” He tells you between kisses. “I want to feel you on top of me.”

As you clammer to your feet going to straddle him your alarm blared loudly before you had a chance to finish the dream. Sitting up in your bed, body sticky with sweat, you opt to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes. A nice cold shower should get your mind out of the gutter. 

Once fully dried and and no longer thinking of fucking your tutor, you change into a pair of distressed blue denim jeans and a loose gray hoodie before grabbing your phone, keys, purse, and backpack to head out and get Lily and Mr. Suh something special. On your way out your door you hear a ding from your phone. 

Great job! 

I’m so proud of you and I hope you’re proud of yourself too! I’m thinking something special should be done to commemorate this momentous occasion.  We’ll need to think of something together. See you later. J. Suh

You can’t help the bright smile spreading across your face as you merrily skip down the hallway to the staircase. Feeling like you just won the lottery you truly feel proud of yourself. Both Mr. Suh and Mr. Jeong, praising you for your efforts. There was no doubt in your mind. You have to find something nice to thank Mr. Suh for everything that he’s done.

Thanks to Mr. Jeong you knew which kind of chocolates to get Lily and what kind of flowers were her favorite. The Best Uncle of the Year, his words exactly, coming in handy with loads of information. It didn’t take long to shop around for Lily, but what the Best Friend of the Year, another term he boldly stated, didn’t do was help you with Mr. Suh. Stating clearly, ‘he’ll be appreciative of anything you get him.’ 

So, you decided to get him some flowers too, a small assortment, and some chocolates of his very own. Fancier chocolates that your parents love to nibble on every now and then. Men like chocolate too, you assert in your mind. 

Driving over to Mr. Suh’s you can’t help but feel antsy. Feeling nervous about interacting with Lily makes your stomach churn painfully. She’s made sure to keep her distance from you. Eyeing you skeptically whenever she does grace you with her presence. Time and time again, Mr. Suh tries to get her to say hi to you properly but to no avail.

This doesn’t help solidify your dream job of being an Elementary teacher. Especially when an Elementary school aged child wants nothing to do with you. 

Pulling up to Mr. Suh’s house you see his car in the driveway. Your heart starts beating faster as you gather everything — putting your purse safely in the trunk since you won’t be needing it inside his house. Trying your best to hold the two small bouquets, you duck walk up to the front door. Before you can even ring the bell, Mr. Suh opens it with a bright smile on his face.

“Welcom—” he stops staring at you. “What in the world…”

“Uh, I uh,” you fiddangle the bouquets holding the one out for him. “I wanted to say thank you for helping me. Without your help I would never have gotten that C and I would probably be swimming in a sea of failure rethinking my life choices and career right now. So, I uh, just got these to say thank you. Ummm.. th-thank you!” 

Blinking, he bounces from your face then to the flowers. Not making any attempt at reaching for them. Just like on the first day, a single strand of sweat trickles down the side of your face. This was a terrible idea. A card would have sufficed. A thank you for tolerating my dumbass for the past three weeks card and maybe a gift card to a restaurant. But no, you didn’t think of that. 

Lowering the bouquet you turn in the direction of the trash can that was sitting out by the curb for tomorrow. “Th-This was stupid, huh?” Your face starts burning up. “I-I’ll just dispose of these.” 

Turning around you head down the two steps to the pathway leading down to the driveway. Halfway down the path you're whipped around and wrapped in a tight hug. The flowers becoming squished in the process. Looking up at the person engulfing you in a constrictor hug you find Mr. Suh. Becoming stiff as a statue you glance around wondering if this is your mind playing tricks on you or if it is indeed real. After that dream you had this surely couldn’t be real. 

“Don’t throw them out,” he whispers, holding you even tighter. 

“O-Okay,” you murmur, body starting to relax. “S-So you like them?”

Chuckling he pulls away from you enough to look down into your eyes. “I love them. It was very thoughtful of you.”

Managing to shove them higher you put on a bright smile. “Well, then these are for you Mr. Suh! I also bought you some chocolates. My mom and dad like these. I always get it for them for their anni —” you stop yourself. “Sp-Special occasions. Or when I want something from them.” You turn your almost blunder into a joke. “I also have some flowers and chocolates for Lily. Mr. Jeong told me what her favorites are.”

Again you’re wrapped into a tight embrace. Mr. Suh’s body hunching over until his face is buried in your neck. “Thank you,” he pulls you close to him. “Thank you.”

Proud of yourself for the second time today you wrap your arms around your tutor. How long has it been since someone other than family or Mr. Jeong showed him kindness? How long has it been since they thought to do something for him and his daughter? Hearing a sniff your ears perk up. 

“Mr. Suh?”

Stepping away from you he quickly wipes his eyes. “Ahh, that’s embarrassing,” he chuckles. “Don’t worry about me. It’s just been a while.”

“Daddy?” A small voice comes from the door. “Daddy!”

“What is it sweetheart?” He quickly leaves your side rushing over to Lily. 

Taking in a huge breath holding it in as you make your approach to the Princess of the mansion. You get down on your haunches and show her the bouquet of flowers.

“Hi Lily, we haven’t really met each other yet.” She goes behind Mr. Suh looking around his legs at you. Introducing yourself, you reach out the flowers towards her. “A little birdie told me that your favorite flowers are Tiger Lilies. Is this true?”

The moment she looks down at the flowers her little eyes light up. Slowly letting go of Mr. Suh’s legs, she comes in front of you. Looking up at her dad he laughs happily.

“They’re for you, sweetheart,” he pats her head.

Reaching out she takes the bouquet smelling each flower her tiny nose can reach. “I love these,” she wraps her arms around the flowers.

“I also heard you like Snickers,” you pull out some candy for her. 

Again her eyes light up. “I love them too!!” She squeals while taking the chocolate. “Daddy look!”

“I see. Now what do we say when we receive a gift?”

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

“Go on inside and we’ll put these flowers in some water,” he shoos Lily inside. 

“Okay!”

Running off she leaves the two of you alone. Standing back up, you can’t help but smile lovingly at the little girl. She really is cute. 

“Thank you for this,” Mr. Suh calls you to attention. “I haven’t seen her this happy in a while. It really means a lot to me.”

“Well, I just figured I should surprise her and give her something because I am borrowing her dad. I know you’d rather spend your time with your daughter and relaxing after work, but because of me you can’t do that for a while.” 

“It’s not all bad,” he walks into his home and you follow. “Having you around these last three weeks has been fun.”

“Liar.” 

Mr. Suh lets out a hardy laugh while you both head into the kitchen. Sitting your bag down at the table like usual you watch him and his daughter put the flowers you gave them in some water. Then, Mr. Suh giving Lily some of her candy you brought her. But what shocked you is when she came running up to you with her arms open wide.

“I love my presents! Thank you!” She hugs you. Stunned you barely have time to hug her back before she lets you go running off to play. 

“Wow…” you look back at Mr. Suh. “I thought she hated me.”

“No way! She’s been curious about you. She asks me questions most nights before she goes to sleep.”

“She does?” Shocked, you stare in the direction she left in.

“Yes,” Mr. Suh sits down with a cup of coffee and he ever so politely brings you one as well. “She’s very cautious. We don’t have many visitors. Most of the family is a good distance away from us.” He takes a sip, his body relaxing. “The only time we see them is during the holiday’s. Shame really. She has cousins around her age but she barely gets to spend time with them.”

“Have you ever thought of moving?”

What the hell are you saying?! You curse yourself. 

“I have but this is the only home she knows. Plus,” he fiddles with his wedding band. “I’m still holding out for something.”

Staring down at his ringed finger fire burns inside of you. How can a woman be so selfish to leave the man she loved hanging by a thread? If she wanted to leave, okay. But you just don’t up and leave and never come back and don’t officially break things off! That is cowardly and selfish! 

“Anytime Lily wants to hang out, I’m available,” you try to bring the subject back to something lighter. “I think as long as I give her candy I’ll be on her good side, right?” 

“Bribery, already?” He looks stunned. “You’re not even a teacher yet and you’re resorting to such tactics.”

Stunned, you stare at him with wide eyes. “A-A teacher? How did you know?”

“Jaehyun. The course he’s teaching is for Education majors, is it not?”

“Right,” you scratch the back of your neck. “Forgot about that. Oh! Mr. Jeong said he may owe you one or two beers for helping me. Make sure he keeps that promise!”

Pulling out your holy binder of math, you get things ready for today's lesson.

“Actually,” Mr. Suh places his hand on top of yours. “Why don’t we skip today’s lesson? We should celebrate your accomplishment.”

“Accomplishment? I got a C-, that means ‘C better luck next time.’”

Laughing, Mr. Suh shakes his head. “Well I see it as ‘C, she can be taught.’ So, listen to your tutor. We’re taking a break today.”

“A break...” You nod sitting back in the chair. “O-Oh! A break! I’m sorry! You probably have something planned for Lily!” Quickly you start packing your backpack. “I’m sorry, I should have read between the lines. I’ll hurry up so you two can spend the evening together.”

“Stop!” Mr. Suh’s voice booms in your ears, startling you. “Like I said earlier, we need to celebrate your accomplishment.” Standing up, he starts to walk away. “Come, follow me.” 

Gulping, your palms turning sweaty you ring them on your jeans before standing up. Mr. Suh leads you back into the living room and this time you have a chance to really look around. Everything was immaculate. White carpet with white furniture. A black stoned fireplace. A large flat screen tv sitting above it. A few plants in the corners of the room and a couple on the coffee table and end tables. Something you would see out of a magazine. Not really a homey touch. Something that seems to fit his style more so than a style that suits a home with a little girl. 

Leaving the living room you’re taken down a corridor to a room where he opens the door with a key. Placing the key back into his pocket your heart starts to beat faster. What in the world could he be hiding? A room that needs to be locked! Thinking back on the movie Fifty Shades of Grey you slowly start to back away. Afraid that Mr. Suh has some weird fetish that he’s about to unleash on you — however, you’re taken aback when the room turns out to be a normal study. 

Slumping forward your heart slows down. Thank goodness…

“It’ll just be a small glass,” he holds the door open for you. “I thought we could celebrate with some wine. You’re old enough to drink, right?”

Glaring you turn to his direction. “I’ve been able to drink for a while now, Mr. Suh. Do I really look that young?”

Chuckling he goes into a cabinet taking out two wine glasses. “You do actually. You still have that ‘the world is my oyster’ glow about you. Go on, pick one.”

“I don’t know wines. I know beer but not wine.”

Snorting he shakes his head. “College days,” he grabs a bottle of red wine pouring you a smaller glass than himself. “You’ll learn when you’re older.”

“You’re not that much older, Mr. Suh. And yet you speak like you’re well into your forties.”

Sitting down on the couch in his study he lets out a huge tired sigh. “Some days it feels like I’m pushing fifty.”

Joining him at the opposite end making sure you don’t intrude on his space you take a small sip. The taste making you cringe slightly but it was smoothe going down. The last wine you had was like drinking tanbark — woody with a dryness of a desert. This held a tinge of sweetness.

“What’s it like to be a dad?” 

“Pardon?” He looks at you surprised. 

“Sorry for the sudden question,” you giggle realizing it was really an out of the blue question. “I just mean, Lily is awfully cute. I don’t have any friends who are already parents. I know personally I want three kids one day. A boy, a girl, and then to adopt or foster a child. That’s been my goal since I was a kid. Perhaps I should have asked, what’s it like to be a parent?”

“Hard.” He stirs the liquid in his glass. “People who don’t have children see the good and bad moments. When the child is well behaved or is so cute you can’t help but fall in love. You want a child right then and there. Vow to the world and everyone around you that you want a houseful of them. 

“Then, there are times when no matter what, you can’t get your kid to stop crying. Or, they misbehave and you don’t know what to do and how to correct the behavior. They scream and throw things and have tantrums in public and it’s embarrassing. People blame the parents right away saying they need to do better. That’s the hard part. People assume you’re not doing a good job but you’re doing the best you can. What works with one child doesn’t work with the other. You can’t use blueprints for a museum to build a shed. 

“So you need to rethink your game plan and just when you think you have everything figured out, BOOM!” He shouts startling you. “Your kid changes the game. But I wouldn’t want to think of a world where Lily isn’t in it. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me. She’ll always be the best thing that’s happened to me. She’s taught me how to love someone unconditionally. To know that if she is in trouble I will willingly throw my life away to protect her. The moment I held her in my arms for the first time was the moment I knew I would and will die for her.”

“Wow…that was…beautiful.” 

Mr. Suh turns to you to see you looking at him in awe. Snickering he takes a sip of his wine, a light flush coming to his cheeks. “You’ll know how it feels when you become a mother.”

“I hope I will. And what about being a teacher?”

Smirking, he slides down on the couch. “The first year is hard. The second year is still hard but you sort of know what to expect. By your third year you’ll be a pro. It’s a job that not everyone can do but those who do it know how amazing it truly is. Oh, a piece of advice — keep your lesson plans for five years at a time. That’s what one of my professors told me. After five years redo them. That way it’s one less thing you have to worry about. Creating lesson plans is a pain, so anyway you can relieve that will always be beneficial for you.” Nodding you keep this tidbit of advice locked in your memory. “Pray tell, why did you choose the teaching profession?”

Shrugging you take a sip of your wine. “I’ve always loved school. I like being in school and learning. I would help out any chance I could get. I was even able to leave and help out the other school staff since I got done with my work quickly. When I was in High School a couple teachers said I’d make the perfect teacher so I listened to them and here I am. Failing miserably…”

“You’re not failing miserably. You’re just failing right now.”

You roll your eyes. “Geez…thanks, Mr. Suh.”

Laughing he places his glass on the end table closest to him before shifting closer to you. “From now on you can call me Johnny.”

“You too? Man you and Mr. Jeong really are cut from the same cloth.”

“What about Jaehyun?”

“He wanted me to call him by his first name too. I mean yeah I’ve spoken to him a few times because of this whole tutoring thing but not enough to feel comfortable calling him by his first name. Plus, it would cross the lines of the student teacher dynamic.”

“Maybe he wants you to feel comfortable around him.” Mr. Suh peers down at you. 

Snorting, you take another small sip of your wine. “If he wants me to feel comfortable he needs to stop making everywhere he goes look like he’s on a runway.”

Cracking up Mr. Suh places a hand on your knee to hold himself up. The small gesture making your body numb with hope that he won’t remove his hand too soon. Visions of your dream springing to life in your mind. How he wanted you to sit on his lap. How you were seconds from kissing him. Gulping you see him wiping his eyes. 

“So he still hasn’t broken that habit?”

“Habit?”

“Back when we were in college, Jaehyun was the ‘it boy,’ on campus. All the girls wanted him. It was crazy. He never paid them any mind but he was aware of the magnetism he held. He started running a hand through his hair and would hear girls screaming their heads off. He’d bite his lip, smirk, and show his dimples — all to give them just a taste of attention, but he would never go further than that.”

Leaning closer to Mr. Suh you ask him a question you never thought you’d ask. “Is Mr. Jeong…you know…into guys?”

Staring flabbergasted, Mr. Suh pushes your forehead back with his index finger. “I would never bring up men around Jaehyun again. No. Believe me. He has no interest in men.” Mr. Suh looks you up and down for a second before chugging the rest of his wine. “Trust me.”

“Sorry if I was offensive. It’s just the way you were talking made it seem like he was teasing people because he knew they would never have his heart.”

“That’s exactly what he did. But not because he’s gay. Jaehyun,” he sighs. “He’s a strange man. One second he seems head over heels for someone, the next, he’s flirting with someone else. I think the prospect of settling down with someone scares him. So he gives them an inch and hopes they don’t take a mile. But they always do and he leaves them.”

“So, Mr. Jeong is scared to be in a relationship?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Wow, I feel bad for him.”

Chuckling, Mr. Suh sits back intrigued. “Since we’re talking openly for once. What about you, my dear student? Any boys you’re interested in? Or should I ask about girls too?” He winks.

“Guys. That’s it for me.” Your face starts to warm. “There is one person…” you fiddle with your fingers. “They’re super smart, handsome, kind, and I don’t know…I just love being around them. I still have a lot to learn but I’m hoping one day I’ll be given the chance to get to know them better.”

“Anyone I know?” He nudges you, winking.

“E-Eh?!” 

Fear quickens your heartbeat. You tried to be as vague as humanly possible. There is no way that he can tell you’re talking about him. Handsome, smart, kind — qualities that can describe half of the world! No way in hell could he narrow it down to himself. 

“Come now, you can tell me. It’s Jaehyun, isn’t it?”

“Wh-What?!” You squeak.

“Everyone falls for him. It’s a natural thing. No need to be shy about it.”

“Mr. Suh, really I —”

“Johnny.” He corrects.

“J-John…Mr. Suh!”

“Come on, it’s not that hard. John…ny…” he says his name slowly.

“I’m not an imbecile!” You put down your glass. “And I don’t have feelings for Mr. Jeong! The person I was talking about was you —” freezing you try to come up with a different response. “You…you’ll never know! A woman’s heart is a land of mystery. It’s a secret!”

Mr. Suh stares at you. Eyes scanning over your features. Hoping that your trembling body won’t catch his attention. How could you have been so stupid? You are an imbecile! You almost let it slip that you have feelings for your tutor! Hell you don’t even know what kind of feelings you have for him. Lust? Hell yeah. Infatuation? Definitely! Pity? Only for Lily. Like? S-Sure... 

Turning away from his gaze you wipe your hands on your jeans. “I’m sorry for shouting. You’ve been kind to me this entire time. I owe everything to you. I just got…defensive…”

“No. I should apologize. I didn’t intend to press you to that point. But I have to ask,” he moves closer to you, his hand gently resting under your chin. Turning your head to face him he stares deep into your eyes. “Is this secret person…me?”

Sitting in the passenger seat you stare out the window. Mr. Suh sent you a message on Friday that stated Lily was sick and he needed to take care of her so tutoring was off, but to come on Saturday, today, which you’re not particularly excited for. The unbeknownst blessing of not having lessons yesterday was that your car was in the shop and there was no one to take you to your lesson. 

Granted, the garage still hasn't looked at your car yet, promising to have it done by tomorrow around lunch — Doyoung has offered to drive you to Mr. Suh’s since Jen has practice. Sighing, you rest your head against the window.

“What’s up with you? Thought this tutor of yours was helping you.”

“He is. I actually got a passing grade last time.” 

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Have you ever met someone that you’ve instantly liked? You may not know them but there is this undying attraction to them?”

“He’s hot isn't he?” Doyoung snickers. 

“Yes. Like just my type. He’s tall, muscular but not overly buff, he has the cutest lips. Like they remind me of a cat and he’s gentle and sweet. You should see him with his daughter and —”

“Hold up!” Doyoung slows down at the red light before glancing your way. “He’s a dad?”

“Yeah. His daughter's name is Lily and she’s so cute!”

“No.”

“No?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

“What if I’m not thinking about anything?”

“I’ve known you our whole lives. You don’t just randomly bring up the topic of liking someone without reason. If he has a child he isn’t someone you need to worry about.”

“Why not?”

“He needs to focus on raising his kid, not getting his dick wet.” He says bluntly. 

Turning to him, shocked by his choice of words Doyoung just shrugs as he proceeds forward. “Did you have to say that?!”

“You’re blushing aren’t you? How many dreams have you had about fucking him?”

“None!” You shriek but then start mumbling. “I always wake up before the good stuff.”

“Why would you put yourself through this? He’s a father. He’s your tutor. Once the semester is done and over with you won’t see him again. He’s older and you’re still in college. Why?”

“Because…because…” you sigh, turning back to the window. “I don’t know.”

“Does he know?”

Groaning, you bang your head against the window, “yeah...”

“How did he find out?”

Staring out into the traffic you drift back to that evening in Mr. Suh’s study…

‘Turning your head to face him he stares deep into your eyes. “Is this secret person…me?’

“Wh-What?! Mr. Suh…” you turn from him, your face growing warmer. “Wh-What makes you ask that kind of question? You’re my tutor…”

“Because on the first day you clearly told someone you thought I was hot.” He says matter of factly. 

“Eh?! S-S-So you did look at my phone!”

“I had to look at it to turn it off. And yes, the message in very large print clearly stated that your friend wanted a picture.”

“Sh-She was just joking! I swear! She’s very blunt.”

“So the message you sent was in regards to me being hot?” He quirks a brow. 

“No! I mean…yes…I mean…”

Moving away from you Mr. Suh runs a hand through his hair. “It’s best for you not to like me.”

Feeling a sharp pain hit your heart you look at him as if someone told you your dog passed away. Bewildered. Heartbroken. “Wh-Why?” You attempt to ask firmly but the quivering in your jaw prevents you. 

Chuckling he crosses his long legs. Arms settling across his chest. “I’m married.” He holds up his ring finger. “No point in crushing on a married man. Plus, I have a child. I don’t have the time or energy to deal with a small infatuation.”

A small infatuation?! Glaring at him he looks completely disinterested in your unwilling confession. What you feel is not a small infatuation! It’s not puppy love or displaced affection! And for him to sit here nonchalantly like your presence annoys him…you could just…just…

Pushing yourself to your feet you march in front of him. He’s married? Ha! If only he knew that you knew his wife left not only him but his daughter. Over her, he’s still holding onto some kind of hope! Why would he do that?! She left him! She’s gone, most likely never to come back! Holding on to hope will only hurt him in the end and Lily! And his daughter…so what?! All of this is a means of deflecting!

“It’s not a small infatuation. I’m not a teenager. I know what and how I am feeling. Yes, I sent a text message to my friend saying that you were hot. If you haven’t noticed at all, you’re incredibly hot! The hottest man I’ve ever seen! Not once did I feel any amount of attraction to anyone I’ve been in school with, that is until you came along! Do you think I wanted to have a crush on my tutor? Do you know how hard it is to focus sometimes?

“Also, I clearly noted the wedding ring on your finger. But I’m also aware that —” you pause. “I’m…” Calm down…breathe… Taking a huge inhale you let the air fill your lungs. Simmering down the anger that was building up inside you. “I’m also aware that just because you’re married doesn’t mean you can’t have feelings for someone else. Sadly we’re not a species that has only one love for the rest of our life. I believe only a couple of species on the planet are like that.”

“So what do you suggest?” Mr. Suh reaches up grabbing your wrists. “You want me to cheat on my wife?” He yanks you down. Your body falling on top of his. “Is that what you want me to do?” He grabs your legs and easily moves you so you’re straddling his lap. 

“Wh-What are you doing?” You try to move away from him but he holds you firmly in his arms. 

Pressing his lips against your ear — unfortunately sending shivers down your spine and a spark of fire to your core he firmly states, “answer the question.”

“N-No…”

“No, you don’t want to answer the question or no, you don’t want me to cheat?”

“Both!”

Arms falling to the couch he allows you to crawl off of him. Moving as far away from him as possible you wait until your heart calms down. The moment you waited for. The moment you’ve fantasized about did not pan out how you truly wanted it to. You were mere seconds from telling him you knew about his wife. The only way you could have known is from Mr. Jeong, and by no means we’re you going to get him in trouble.

“I think I should go.” You get up heading for the door. “Forget I even mentioned anything.”

“Wait!” Stopping as your feet barely cross over the threshold you glance over your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Mr. Suh apologizes with his head low to his chest. “I-I didn’t mean…”

“Wh-What?” You turn completely to look at him. Hands interlaced together tightly. Knuckles turning white as snow. His hair hanging over his eyes making him look more apologetic. More ashamed… “M-Mr. Suh?” You call gently. 

His hands unclasp, one reaching up to wipe his eyes. Without thinking you spring over to him. Startling him as you push his shoulders back until they’re resting on the back of the couch — eyes red and tear stained. Straddling his lap you plant a gentle kiss on his lips. His body freezes beneath you but you pay it no mind. This is what you’ve wanted. To feel what it would be like to kiss him. To feel his body pressed against yours. 

Leaving soft comforting kiss after kiss, his hands find purchase on your waist. Slowly he starts to kiss you back. His lips moving along with yours tentatively. Unsure and if this is right. But when a groan coming from the back of his throat pierces your ears you kiss him deeper. Opening your mouth for his tongue to enter. 

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to grow steamy. Your body burning up from the inside out. Stomach churning to the sounds coming from your tutor. Low growls that tell you he’s holding back with all his might. Wanting to feel all of him you take matters into your own hands. As his tongue slips into your mouth you quickly wrap your lips around it, sucking on the wet slippery muscle. Giving him a taste of what it would be like on another part of his body. His hands grip your waist tightly. Eyes closed shut. Brows furrowed while you work your magic. His face, his expressions, the noises he’s making driving you forward to do more. Much much more.

With one final loud suck of his tongue you pull back. Chest heaving heavily you attack his neck. Biting, nipping, kissing and sucking on the taught flesh. Grazing your tongue across his Adam’s apple has him pushing you onto your back. Now hovering over you he stares down at you with wild eyes. Pupils dilated and filled with lust. 

“Kiss me, please…” you beg for him with your arms wide open. 

Gulping loudly Mr. Suh lowers himself to you. His chest sliding up yours making you squirm beneath him. His lips skate over yours, a whisper of a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Whimper after whimper comes from you. Never before have you been this desperate to feel someone’s lips on yours. To feel their body on top of you — pressing you into a couch until you can’t escape. 

“You’re so beauti —”

“Daddy!!” Lily calls out for him. “Daddy!!”

In a matter of seconds Mr. Suh is off of you. Back pressed against the arm of the couch from the opposite end. Hair mused. Chest rising and falling rapidly and a rather noticeable…you look away from his lap. 

“Y-You need to leave!” He scrambles to his feet.

“Daddy!” Lily cries out. 

“Coming!” He says frantically.

“Mr. Suh, I…”

“Just leave!” He shouts before leaving his study in a hurry. “Lily! Sweetheart, what’s wrong?!”

“He saw a text I sent to Jen about him being hot. Didn’t take much to know I was into him,” you tell Doyoung leaving out the sorted details. 

“What are you going to do?”

“I would run away and avoid him but I kind of need his help in order to pass.” Turning to your friend with a somber face you try your best to smile but a single tear slides down your cheek. “So I’m going to pass and put him behind me after this semester.”

Reaching over, Doyoung places his hand in yours. “I’m sorry, kid.” 

“Me too.” You wipe your eye. 

Within five minutes you were in front of Mr. Suh’s house. Doyoung whistling the moment he sees the place. Asking if you wanted him to walk you to the door for extra support you declined the offer. Telling him to be here at 6PM or at least to have his cell on hand if you should need to call him for an earlier pick up, he reassures you that he’ll be close by. 

As you make your way up to the house Doyoung calls your name. Turning to look back you’re engulfed in his arms. “I know this is going to be hard but please stay strong, okay?” He asks you.

Nodding and giving into the sweetest, softest hug known to mankind you melt into him. “I will.”

“If you need ANYTHING, call me or text me. I’ll be over here ASAP. Got it?”

“Mmm…” you nod. 

“See you soon.”

“See you soon, and thank you!” You shout, waving your hand. 

Waving back, Doyoung gets into his car and drives off down the road. Turning back to the house you find Mr. Suh at the door. Eyes dark and unreadable. Walking up to him his aura is different. Then again, the hot makeout session the other day could be the reason. 

“You’re late.” He says as you pass by him.

“I needed a ride. Sorry.” You head straight for the kitchen. “Oh. Before I forget.” You pull out a small bag with some chicken noodle soup in it and orange juice. “For Lily.”

“She’s fine.” He brushes past you without taking the bag. 

“I see.” Leaving the bag on the counter near the kitchen sink you take your seat. “I’ve already done the homework.” You take out your binder. 

“Hand it to me.”

Doing as instructed you wait for Mr. Suh to check your work. His hand scribbles down where you’ve made mistakes. Of course there were mistakes. You haven’t been able to get the kiss you had with him out of your mind. Even in your sleep you feel his lips and hands on you. Taking out your textbook you open up to the chapter Mr. Jeong went over yesterday to distract yourself.

“What is this mess?” Mr. Suh breaks you out of your thoughts. “This!” He shoves your homework up to your face where all you see are red markings. “This is unacceptable!”

“Sorry.” You look down. 

“What happened? You should have been able to get past this with flying colors?” Shrugging you avoid looking at him. “Answer me!”

“I don’t know what happened!”

“Did you double check your work? Did you read the questions carefully?!”

“I thought I did.”

“Well thinking wasn’t on your side now was it?!” He snarls.

“Look!” You shout. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to get them all wrong! I’m sorry I’m too stupid to understand this! Why do I need to learn this anyway?! I want to teach Kindergarten! I want to have fun and watch them learn their alphabet and numbers. Why do I need to learn all this other stuff?!” Tears start pouring down your face. 

“Because you don’t know what grade you will be assigned to! That’s why! So enough with the tears and pay attention!”

“Why are you being so mean?” You sniff. 

He goes quiet, his body rigged. Ever since you walked up to him he’s been a real asshole for no reason at all. Yes, you got questions wrong — knowing it’s only because the kiss that you can’t get out of your mind being the main culprit behind the insurmountable amount of red ink on your homework. But this, this behavior because you got answers wrong is not that the Johnny… Mr. Suh, that you know. 

Turning his head from you he lets out a huge exhale. “Because being nice to you ended up with us…” he stops himself before proceeding with the real reason he’s in a shitty mood.

“So that constitutes you being mean to me instead?!” Taking out your phone which you had on mute you start to type out an S.O.S to Doyoung.

“No phones!” He grabs your phone. “I told you this already. Are you having a hard time following simple rules?!”

“I was telling my friend to pick me up! Give me my phone!”

“What?! I cleared my schedule to help you and you’re going to leave? You’re here to learn so that’s what you’re going to do. Now sit down and listen to me young lady!”

“No! You’re not my father and you’re not my teacher!” You challenge by packing up your belongings.

“I said sit down!” He stands up his body looming over you threateningly. 

“No!” You tremble in rage. “Give me my phone…back!!”

“So you can contact that boyfriend of yours?”

Your arms fly from your sides exasperated. “Boyfriend?!” 

“Yes. The boy glaring daggers at me!”

“Glare? What glare?! Are you talking about Doyoung?! He’s my best friend. I’ve known him my whole life! W-Wait…are you…jealous?!”

Quickly Mr. Suh’s demeanor changes from hostile tutor to blubbering idiot. “J-Jealous?! Wh-What?! That’s absurd!”

“If you’re not jealous you’ll give me back my phone,” you hold out your hand.

“I’m not jealous and you’re not getting your phone back. You’re here to learn!”

“Give me my phone!”

“No! Now sit down.” Ignoring his order you zip up your now full again backpack and hurl it over your shoulders. “Wh-What are you doing?!”

“Leaving.”

“You can’t leave!”

“I’m my own person. I’m free to go wherever I please.”

“If you leave I won’t tutor you anymore!” He threatens.

“Fine with me.” You continue to pack your things.

“Y-You’ll fail!”

“Guess I will.”

“You can’t be serious.” You ignore him as you head out of the kitchen. “Y-Yah!!” He chases after you. “Are you stupid?!”

“Already told you I was the first day we met.”

“Stop this!” He grabs your wrist. Halting in front of him you don’t bother turning around. “Fine. Take it.” He growls, placing your phone in your hand. “There. Now will you stay?”

“No.” You click send and head to the front door.

“What?! I gave you back your phone!”

“So?” You smirk. “You think that means that I’ll stay here? I’m not going to deal with someone who has an attitude problem. It doesn’t help me at all.”

“I don’t have an attitude problem.”

“Uh, yeah, you do.”

“I don’t!”

“From the moment I walked inside you’ve been cross with me. Why? Is it because we kissed the other day? Is it because Lily is sick and you’re tired? Or is it because you saw me hugging someone else?” Mr. Suh looks away from you the moment you mention the hug. Shocked, you cross your arms over your chest. “No way,” you chuckle. “Don’t tell me that Mr. Suh has a wittle crush,” you say in a baby voice. “Wouldn’t that be something? Especially after all that bullshit about it being bad for me to like you.”

“Stop.” His fists clench at his sides, his body trembling as he glares at you.

“What? Is it because I’m right? Did you fall for me when I kissed you?” You press.

“I said stop!”

“Come now, do share with the class how you’re feeling,” you spread your arms open as if you’re talking to more than just Mr. Suh. Seething with rage, you peer up at him through your lashes. “Come now, Johnny.” 

A sharp pain strikes down your spine as your back makes contact with the wall closest to the door — a tiny alcove just barely big enough for you to nestle into you, no escape in sight. You gasp for air as strong hands grip both your waist and your neck, making sure that you don’t get away. Lips crash down onto yours with such force you’re sure the metallic taste in your mouth is your own blood. Teeth crash into teeth, the grip on your waist tightens — eyes getting blurry with tears as your air supply starts to run low. 

Pulling back for a seconds, Mr. Suh takes in a breath allowing you to breathe as well, only for his lips to crash down onto yours again. This kiss was anything but gentle. It’s rough and raw like he’s trying to devour your soul one kiss at a time. Stomach swirling like a tornado when he growls against your lips, a beast waiting to devour it’s prey — your knees almost give out from the hottest guttural groan you’ve ever heard a man make in your life, your thighs clenching together.  

“You’re such a brat,” he grips your waist tighter leaving out a shaky breath. 

Mr. Suh’s grip on your neck loosens as his body presses against yours, the feeling of his arousal already present. Gasping, your arms wrap around his neck drawing him closer to you. His tongue skates across your lips, begging for entrance. Parting your lips, his tongue swirls around yours fighting for dominance, which you gladly complied — mind already turning to mush at the slightest touch and kiss he presses against you.

Pulling back he leaves you with a single peck on your lips as both of your chests rapidly heave — your breath mixing with his, unknown feelings blending in with each other’s.

“I-I think you need to be taught some manners.” He says breathlessly. 

“I-I’m sorry…” you plead while your mind races for what might come if he does in fact punish you.

He snickers, his eyes cloudy and hooded, a lusftul sinister look plastered on his face. “Liar.” He squeezes your neck tighter, his eyes starting to close.

“Pl-Please…c-can’t…breathe…”

Laughing he grips your neck even harder — still not tight enough to do any real damage, but your breath still feels staggered each breath you take in. “Good!” He hisses and trails his lips over your cheek before he kisses the corner of your mouth. “You dare to argue with me in my own home then proceed to tease me!” His grip on your waist tightens while he pulls you into him, your bodies flush against each other’s. “You insolent brat!” 

Kissing you again the little air you were able to breathe is taken from you. Your body growing limp in his hold. Your mind lost to the lust that’s blazing through you like a rocket. It’s embers striking every nerve in your body — the slightest touch of his lips to yours makes you whimper, the grip of his hand on your waist growing tighter till it feels as if he’ll leave impressions has you shivering. Your lips move along with his desperately, waiting to be consumed by him to have your whole existence wrecked by a single glance from him. Whatever he wants to do to you, you’ll gladly comply. A slave to his touch you become engulfed by him. 

Like a switch going off, Mr. Suh rips you from the wall by your neck and you’re free from him. “I will never be jealous,” he rolls his neck, eyes growing dark with hunger each step he takes towards you. “That little twerp can have you only when I’m done with you.”

The powerful wolf and the meek rabbit you back away from, your hands raised in both defense and to placate him. “I-I don’t want him…”

Smirking, he continues to stalk towards you your body getting closer and closer to the couch. “Why is that?”

Your heels smack against the bottom of the couch. Trapped again you can’t go anywhere else without him catching you easily. Your body trembles, your skin covered in goosebumps. “I want you!” You say desperately reaching out to him. “Only you.”

Pushing you down onto the couch, Johnny wastes no time at all. Towering over you, his eyes so dark and full of feral lust mirroring your own, his gaze washes over you inch by inch. Stopping at your breasts, you involuntarily take a deep breath in — causing your chest to rise and Johnny’s bottom lip to be sucked between his teeth. His eyes travel lower to your stomach and then pauses for what seems like an eternity — your pelvis, his gaze lingers as sinful thoughts reel through your mind. 

What it would be like to have his tongue skate over your wet folds. What it would be like to have his fingers ramming inside of you, and the second most sinful thought of all — his dick pummeling into you without a second thought to your wellbeing. 

Possessed by desire, your legs start to spread apart, a subconscious invitation for him to come closer. To merge his body with your own. On cue, he moves forward just as your legs spread far enough for him to fit between them. One of his hands props his body up while the other touches your cheek gingerly. Your eyes start to close as you give into the soft caress. When his thumb passes over your lips you give it a small kiss. 

“Why did you have to do this to me?” 

“Why did you have to do this to me, Mr. Suh?” You throw the question back at him. It wasn’t just him that is under a spell, but yourself as well. 

Ever since you first saw him you wanted to know him, to be a part of his life. Cupid’s arrow didn’t just get you — it flew straight into your mind and scrambled your brain. The moment you saw him playing outside with his daughter, the smile on his face; the carefree aura that surrounded him sent you soaring. Entranced the moment your eyes fell on him you’ve wondered how haven’t jumped him yet.

Leaning into his touch you turn your head kissing the palm of his hand, a faint sent of lotion and soap fill your head; with a splash of your perfume. Your lips travel to his wrist and down his arm, your eyes staring him down wanting nothing more than to feel his lips over your body.

“Fuck,” he whispers. 

“Please don’t punish me, Mr. Suh…” You lick and nip at his wrist.

“Shit…” he rasps. “You’re so beautiful,” he rubs his thumb against your cheek before grabbing your chin. “But you’re a brat, and brats need to be dealt with.” 

Gulping from anticipation you feign innocence. “I-I didn’t mean it! Please!” Your mouth says forgive me but your eyes say come and get it. 

Smirking, Johnny’s hand travels from your chin down to your neck and across your décolletage slowly — making sure every touch has you inching closer and closer to him. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes~” you purr reaching up to him, pulling him down to you.

Johnny’s eyes grow darker. His grip around your neck loosening. “What do you think you’re doing?” He lowers himself onto you more until his chest is pressed against yours. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to do that.” Sighing he shakes his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Anything!” You choke out. 

His lips meet yours in a gentle yet chilling kiss, “be careful what you wish for.” He says in a dark husky voice. 

“You can do whatever you want to me…” you state firmly. “Anything.”

Stopping the smile that played on his lips, his hand travels down from your décolletage to just above the neckline of your low cut shirt. “Are you sure about that?”

Nodding eagerly, you stare up at him. With a swift movement Johnny has you switching positions with him; instead of standing between his legs — he pulls you on top of his lap, your legs straddling him. His hands rest just above your ass — your body sinking until you feel the bulge that is seconds from bursting through his loose fitted jeans. Wanting nothing than to grind your hips against him you withhold the urge. 

After so many nights of fantasizing about him you’re finally at the moment where your dreams can become reality. There’s no way you’re going to screw it up and push him past his comfort zone. Especially, with a burning question in the back of your mind. With the roll of his hips your body gives into the lust you’ve kept locked away. Throwing away your inhibitions you grab his cheeks into your hand and smash your lips down onto his. 

Your hips grinding into each other’s, both of you gasp for air between kisses — his grip on you tightening, holding you down against him getting out his frustration just as much as you’re chasing to release the frustration within you. Biting his bottom lip you’re desperate to taste him again. To feel his tongue swirling around yours in a forbidden dance of passion. 

Parting his lips your tongue slides into his mouth only to capture his tongue between your lips. Shifting your body higher up on his, you suck on his tongue as if it were his dick. Mr. Suh groaning, his arms going from the top of your behind to around your waist. Releasing his tongue you go back to kissing him, missing the feeling of his lips on yours. 

His mouth moves from yours and down to your chin. Angling your head back you give him access to your neck. Nipping, sucking and biting, Mr. Suh marks you, claiming ownership of your body. Moving down to the base of your neck, you melt in his hold a shiver washing over you. Smiling against your neck his lips spread and suck on a sensitive spot. Soft whimpers escape your lips — wanting to both flee from him as well as grab onto his hair to keep yourself in place to savor the delightful feeling.

Moving back from your neck Mr. Suh glances at the art piece he’s created on your body. His hold on you loosens allowing you to find purchase again on his lap both of you hissing when your clothed core brushes against his bulge. 

Wincing as your hips roll over his again, keeping his hands at your waist to steady your ministrations he confesses. “J-Just so you know, I-I’ve never done this before.” 

“Never done what before?” You ask slowing down before you work yourself up even more. 

His eyes quiver from fear, apprehension, you can’t tell. Touching his cheek you smile and give him a gentle nod of encouragement. 

“I don’t normally want to fuck my students. In fact, I’ve never wanted to do that before until —’’

“Until?” You give a faint smile.

Rolling his hips you whimper bringing your hand up to your lips shocked by the sound that passed your lips. “What do you think?” He asks.

“I never thought of you as someone who sleeps with his students. Especially, not with Lily around —” gasping you look behind you to the staircase. “I-Is she here? Shit, I didn’t think about it until now…” scrambling to get off of his lap Mr. Suh keeps you in place.

“I wouldn’t have started anything with you if Lily were in the house. She’s with Jaehyun right now. His neighbor’s kids are her classmates. She visits him every now and then to spend more time with them. It’s okay we’re alone,” he chuckles.

“Thank heavens,” you sink into his hold. “Wait a second! I thought she was sick. Is she well enough to be around others?” You perk up again.

Avoiding your gaze Johnny clears his throat. “Uh, about that…I, uh, lied. Well, I mean she wasn’t feeling well. She ate too much chocolate and had a stomach ache, but she’s fine now.”

Freezing on top of him your eyes widen. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have bought so much.”

Wrapping a gentle hand around your neck he pulls you down to him. “She ate my chocolate apparently. Snuck down at night,” he smiles against your lips. “The little sneak.”

Smiling along with him you enjoy the warm cozy feeling of his slipping from your neck down to your back, where his his thumb rubs against you with a soothing touch. “She’s adorable. You’ve done a great job raising her.”

“Thank you,” Johnny kisses you gently. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me about her mother,” he pulls away from you hands resting on your hips once again. 

Shit…

“Oh, I, now that you mention it, I haven’t met her.” You laugh nervously.

Not believing your realization one bit he squints at you. “Exactly what has Jaehyun told you?”

Ears perking up you turn away from him. “Mr. Jeong? What do you mean?”

“Now I could be a poor judge of character, but you don’t seem like the type of girl who would ruin a marriage just because she has the hots for the husband. So, I’m guessing you either know or have an inkling as to why you haven’t met Lily’s mother. So, what is it?”

“Ummm, I mean, I…”

A dark aura swirls around Mr. Suh while a devilish grin dances across his face. “Hmm, maybe a little coaxing will do the trick,” he moves one of his hands from your hips to between your legs — lifting away from him startled, he uses the opportunity to cup your throbbing core. “So, what do you know?” He adds pressure while rubbing his hand over you, stirring the neediness to have him buried deep inside of you.

“M-Mr. S-Suh!!”

“Come on, tell me, what do you know?” He presses harder against your pulsating core, your body pushing down against his hand wanting more. 

Shaking your head you try to prolong his taunting. “N-Nothing! W-We barely talk about you,” a half truth and half lie. 

Slowing down Johnny goes to remove his hand but you grab his wrist. “Oh, do you suddenly remember?” 

“Don’t stop,” you whimper. “Please!” You bring his hand back to your now soaking core not caring if your jeans are getting ruined and grind against his hand.

Gulping, Johnny watches you for a second mesmerized by your performance. How you’re so worked up and he hasn’t even taken off your clothes. Snapping out of his thoughts he yanks his hand away. “Tell me what you know and I’ll continue.” 

Crying out you go to grab his hand again but he puts it behind his back. “MR. SUH!!!!” 

“Tell me what I need to know and if you’re good I’ll give you what you want and then some.” 

“Why do you want to know so badly? Really, Mr. Jeong normally just asks if you’re nice to me and if I’m actually learning anything. Apparently my grades aren’t proof enough.” Your body goes slack against him.

Kissing the top of your head that’s now resting on his chest, he slides his hands under the hem of your shirt and up your back. The warmth of his fingers making you shiver. “Just tell me, that’s all you have to do.” He whispers.

Groaning you shake your head. “If I die its your fault. He told me to keep this knowledge a secret you know.”

“He won’t hurt you. Now out with it. I’d like to have some adult time before Lily gets home.”

Sitting up straight almost hitting Johnny’s chin you clear your throat. “Mr. Jeong told me not to mention your wife at all in front of you or Lily. He didn’t give me a lot of details but just said that she left and mentioning her would make you upset. So that’s why I never once asked about her. 

“I actually wanted to give her a present of appreciation for allowing me to borrow you, this whole time. I assumed she would have preferred spending the end of the day with Lily and yourself, but Mr. Jeong said she wouldn’t get it. I thought it meant she was sick or dead. He corrected me.”

“So, you know everything?” His gaze falls from yours.

“In a roundabout way, yes.”

“So, I must ask, are you sure these feelings of yours, aren’t out of pity? The poor tutor whose wife ditched him in the middle of the night.”

“Stop that!” You shout startling him. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I already thought you were irresistible from the moment I saw you. That awkward text message to my friend is evidence enough.” He chuckles, shaking his head still avoiding your gaze. Grabbing his chin you turn and raise his head so he’s looking into your eyes. 

“Nothing has changed. I do not like you out of pity. I like you because you’re resilient. You raised Lily into a sweet girl, really, she’s adorable. You juggled being a full-time dad with a full-time job. You’re still able to keep a bachelor like Mr. Jeong around despite it all so you’re either super mega ultra best friends, or you’re loaded and he’s using you for your money.” He cracks a huge smile and you continue. “And,” your hand drops from his chin but a single finger slides down his neck, Johnny gulping in the process. “You obviously take care of your physical health too…” your finger finds it’s way to the middle of his broad muscular chest.

”That’s a lot coming from someone who doesn't know me at all.” He attempts to brush off your compliments, but the tinge of pink coming to his cheeks betrays him. 

“And you don’t know anything about me aside from the fact that you’re now my tutor and math is definitely not my best subject. Yet here we are,” you roll your pelvis against his. “Two strangers trying to find something that they need.”

”What exactly do I need?” He grunts when a particular roll of your hips makes him buck upwards.

Smirking, you slither down to the floor, crawling between Johnny’s legs. Locking eyes with him, you run your hands up his thighs and over the tent of his jeans. 

“A release,” you giggle moving your face closer to where his dick is covered by his jeans. 

Pressing harder against him you palm him over the taught fabric. “I-Is that so?!!” He says breathlessly trying to keep his cool.

“Mhmm, oh and maybe a tight pussy to shove your big dick into.” You unzip his jeans. “Plus, it’s been far too long since I’ve gotten a proper release myself.”

Gulping, he watches you like a hawk, his chest rising and falling. “Wh-When was the last time exactly?”

Pausing, you think back to your last boyfriend. A boy indeed since you both were only sixteen at the time. He was nice and cute, the typical boy next door that every mother wants for her daughter. Hell, he even went to church on Sunday’s. The problem with him… behind those baby blue eyes and sweet smile, he was a complete sadist! 

Bending you over the bed frame while he plowed into you from behind, not warming you up, not caring about the fact it was your first time and you could feel blood trickling down your leg. It hurt a lot that first time. The couple times afterwards we’re just as bad. He called foreplay smacking your pussy with his dick, rather hard too. And a female orgasm, forget about it. He stated with his full chest ‘the female orgasm doesn’t exist. I’ve read numerous academic articles online.’ In truth he read a bunch of misogynistic, I’m-an alpha-male-who-can’t-make-a-woman-cum articles that convinced him otherwise. 

After the third terrible, painful sexual experience you had to grow a backbone and call it quits — resulting in a rumor that you loved eating ass, because that made sense. The only ass you would have eaten was his so it all backfired on him anyway. A snippet of karma for his pettiness. 

The only other experience was with your neighbor's daughter. An out of the blue moment, you were both watching porn and just wanted to know how it would feel. That was your senior year and boy was it… fun. A tiny secret you’ll keep till you find a man who is self-assured enough to handle it. Perhaps… Mr. Suh could be…

“It’s been quite a while. And I really,” you move back to tug down his jeans, Mr. Suh helping you by raising his butt off the couch. “Really need to get rid of this pent up frustration you’ve caused. And since it’s your fault,” you toss his jeans over your head. “I think it’s only fair that you help me out. Don’t you think?” 

Leaning forward you press your lips on Johnny’s incredible length. Already impressed you run your lips across his briefs licking a wet streak as you go.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans throwing his head back. “God that feels good already.”

Giggling you find the tip of his cock, his briefs showing a stain of precum on the outside. Smushing your thighs together you attempt to calm the beating of your pulsing bundle of nerves — wanting so badly to touch yourself, to come undone while sucking him off, but Mr. Suh needs this moment and you can wait. 

Suckling on the cum that’s leaked from him already you savor the taste of him. How many times you’ve dreamt about what he would taste like and smell like. How big he’d be — your imagination not doing him justice at all, and how it would feel for him to go balls deep inside of you. 

“I need your lips on me…” he groans, with one hand gripping the arm of the couch for dear life and the other tangled up in his hair. 

Kitten licking the impression of his cock you grab the waistband of his briefs and yank them down as well, till he steps out of them with your help. Tossing them behind you like you did his jeans you darn near pass out. Nothing you could have ever imagined would compare to what is in front of you. With your mouth hanging open, Johnny sits up taking off his shirt and throwing it with his other clothes. 

Sitting back he takes his more than you would have thought, length into his hand stroking it. Amazed at the scene in front of you, you stay put almost desperate to watch him jerk himself off before even motioning for you to come over and make him cum again. Now that would be punishment.

“Do you think you candle this?” He taunts you by wiggling his cock in front of you. 

Not only was he long but the amount of girth he possessed made it hard for his cock to stand up on its own. It’s just too damn heavy. 

“I-I’m more than willing to try!” You scramble between his legs desperate to taste him again.

Before you can take a hold of him, he yanks his cock back. “How badly do you want to suck my dick?”

“I’m soaking wet just thinking about it, Mr. Suh.”

Turning his head away from you stunned by your honesty he composes himself once more. “Come closer,” he calls to you.

Nestling as close as you can between his legs, your arms rest on the tops of his thighs. Earnestly waiting for him to let you take control. 

“Open your mouth,” he instructs.

Opening wide, you follow his instructions. Mr. Suh, pumps his hand up and down his length a few more times until he places just the tip of his cock into your mouth. 

“Ouhm,” you make a non-coherent sound and try to hold onto his length, the weight of his cock already a lot by just the tip resting in your mouth. 

Quickly, before you can take hold, Mr. Suh pulls his cock away chuckling. “I don’t know if you can handle it.”

Clicking your tongue you get up onto your knees. “Watch me!” 

Staring down at the massive length of Johnny’s cock, you gulp as lightly as you can muster. This is going to be a hell of a task. Of course, you expected him to be packing but this! It’s as everyone says, God does have favorites and he’s bestowed Johnny onto you. 

Thank you.

Looking up at Johnny you stare him down as you stick out your tongue. Getting closer and closer to the tip of his cock, his bottom lip gets snagged between his teeth. Anticipation causes his chest to rise and fall — ears, cheeks, and chest turning the lightest shade of pink. Nodding he urges you to move closer and when you finally make contact with the tip, his eyes roll to the back of his head.

”Fuck~~~” he drawls out a growl. 

It wasn’t just his eyes that rolled into the back of his head, but yours too. As you kitten lick down the length of his cock, you can’t help but moan onto his shaft. The taste and smell of him, intoxicating. You lick a stripe down to the base only to pull away and blow gently on the wetness you created.

“Sh-Shit…” Mr. Suh chuckles. “That’s something new,” he strokes the top of your head. 

“Learned it from an ex,” you admit. 

“Tell them I said thanks.” Smirking, you kiss up and down his length before finally taking him into your mouth. “Oh, yes baby…”

Hollowing out your cheeks you suck on the head of his cock. Like a woman possessed you dive deeper and deeper around him. The tip reaching the back of your throat gagging you.

”Easy, baby…” Mr. Suh coos, stroking your hair. “Take your time.”

Sliding up his length your mouth hangs open, saliva stringing from his shaft to your lips. Eyes clouded with lust you merely nod before spitting on his dick and diving back down. 

He is right. There is far too much of him to gobble down immediately. His girth stretching out the corners of your lips making it feel as though they’ll split and bleed. But, you just can’t help yourself. He’s far too enticing to resist. 

Sitting up straighter, you take the lower base of Mr. Suh’s shaft and dive down until you reach your hand. A long groan comes from him. Taking a shot in the dark from your bestie’s rendezvous’ you try the one thing she said made her ex-boyfriend go crazy. 

As Mr. Suh reaches the back of your throat you hold him there in your mouth, your mouth sucking the life out of him before slowly pulling back. Your tongue juts out and you lick the back of his length along the pronounced vein — Mr. Suh’s body trembling underneath your touch.

”Fuck ~~~~ that felt good.” His hand strokes down your hair one last time before he grabs a handful. “But I need more of that pretty mouth of yours.”

Lowering your head back down onto his cock, Mr. Suh uses your mouth to get himself off. His hips thrusting up, his dick slides in and out of your mouth quickly. Your eyes tearing up — the tip of his length no doubt creating an impression in the back of your throat — pushing you down further, your body moves forward and curls as you try not to gag. Doing everything you’ve heard to stop yourself from retching, you keep your body still until he pulls out.

Choking on air, you wipe your mouth of the thick saliva that escaped past your lips. Looking up at Johnny starry and blurry eyed you watch him stroke himself earnestly waiting for you to wrap your lips around him again. Pushing his hand away, you do what that useless ex actually complimented you for — and give Mr. Suh the best blow job of his life.

Soaking his cock in your saliva, you lick all the way down his shaft, pumping your hand at the top before sucking one of his balls into your mouth. Mr. Suh’s hand finding purchase in your hair before he pulls you back, causing you to release his sack with a pop and barely giving you a chance to give the other a little lick before you’re staring at him again.

With a smirk plastered to your face you ask, “what? You don’t like that?” 

”Quite the contrary, but I’d rather cum with your mouth wrapped around my dick and not my balls.” 

Listening to his request you wrap your lips around the tip once more and suckle on it and his length like he was your favorite flavor of lollipop. Small kisses decorate the underside of his shaft before you kiss the head. Staring him down you slide your hand up and down his length.

Mr. Suh’s eyes start closing the closer you edge him to cum. His body trembling and his groans getting louder until you blow down the slickness you’ve created and he shivers beneath you. Giggling you hollow your cheeks around him and drink him up when his hands hold your head down on him.

”Fuck! Just a little…” he growls lifting his hip, his cock sliding in out of your mouth. “SHIT!!” He pushes your head down more until you choke on his dick, this time your hands grip the top of his thighs, your nails creating impressions in his skin. “I’m gonna~~~” he groans, his head dropping back to his shoulders.

Warm liquid fills your mouth. Small whimpers rumble in your throat as his cum coats your mouth. He doesn’t move away, his pelvis frozen in the air while he spasms beneath you. Your mouth fills and some of his essence slips past your lips and drips down his length. With one final jerk of his body, Mr. Suh lowers himself down back to the couch, his cock sliding from your lips slowly.

His chest heaves quickly, eyes clouded just like you know yours are. With a quick swipe of your thumb over your lips, you tilt your head back, his cum slipping down your throat until its gone. 

“Shit…” he lets out a long shaky breath. “That was amazing,” he chuckles. “But I do think I need to repay the favor.”

”Oh, believe me Mr. Suh, it was my pleasure,” you say, licking all of the residue of his release from your fingers. 

Wiggling a finger, he beckons you to him. “Come here, you little brat,” he calls to you. 

Getting onto your feet you stand between Mr. Suh’s legs. He sits up, eyeing your body before him. “Well this won’t do,” he slides his hand under your shirt. “We need to get rid of these.” 

Quickly, you strip from your shirt, the fabric flying off the top of your head and landing somewhere on the floor. Laughing, Mr. Suh, undoes the buttons of your jeans, sliding them down your body. Just like your shirt you discard the piece of clothing somewhere away from you on the floor. Standing in your bra and panties, Mr. Suh takes the opportunity to let his eyes roam over every curve and inch of you. 

Thanking the Lord you decided to wear your matching black bra and panties today instead of your usual ‘whatever you can find’ combo — he wraps his arms around the back of your legs and pulls you till you're straddling his lap once more, your soaked panties brushing against his hardened length.

Shocked that Mr. Suh could still be this hard after coming once, you wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re quite insatiable, Mr. Suh.” You tease and grind on top of his length earning a low growl from deep in his throat.

“How could I not be with a beautiful woman in my presence?” He asks and unsnaps your bra, the straps sliding down your arms before you sit up allowing him to pull the fabric off of you. Discarding it in the heap of clothing now collecting on the floor he takes in your bare breasts. 

With hungry eyes and a lick of his lips he cups one of your breasts in his hand. An airy moan has you throwing your head back, your hands resting on his shoulder. 

“So sensitive,” he says playfully. 

“They’ve always been sensitive…” you confess. 

“Is that so?” 

Leaning forward, he gives your unattended breast a kiss near your nipple. Another moan emitting from you. Taking both of your breasts in his hands, you arch your back, resting your hand instead of on his shoulder but the top of his thighs. Glancing up at you he captures one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud. While he pinches and twists the other nipple. 

Your hips start grinding on top of his lap, the feeling of his mouth on your breast a little too good to withstand. Growling his teeth graze over your perky bud making you jump a little. Chuckling he switches to the other side and repeats the same sensuous torture, your body craving for his mouth and hands on another part of you. Kissing along the top of your chest, his arms wrap around your waist pulling you back to him — his back resting on the back of the couch, while he devours your chest up to your neck one kiss, lick and nip at a time. 

“Your choice,” he whispers against your neck. “Mouth or fingers?”

“E-Eh?”

Staring up at you with those chocolate orbs of his, he reaches for the back of your neck and pulls you down gently till his lips rest on yours. “Do you want me to get you off with my mouth or my fingers?” He places a feather-like kiss on your lips. 

Gulping, you whisper against each kiss he leaves, “f-fingers…please!”

Knowing that there is no way in hell that you would last even a minute if his tongue grazed over your clit — at least with his fingers you’ll be able to feel him inside of you — the probability of lasting longer much higher than if he used his mouth. The throbbing between your legs making you three times more sensitive than normal, a loud moan interrupts your throats as Mr. Suh rubs over your wet folds — having already moved your panties to the side, he prods your entrance before rubbing over your clit once more. 

Mumbling against your neck, he pulls his hand back from you. “Fuck baby, you’re already so wet.” Pulling his hand up he shows you your slick on his fingers. “Damn…” he twiddles his fingers in amazement at how you’ve soaked them. “So wet for me,” he slides his fingers into his mouth.

“M-Mr. Suh!!!!” You squeak, grabbing his hand to stop him but his fingers disappear into his mouth. 

Groaning, his eyes roll back as he sucks his fingers clean of your juices. “So fucking good…I knew you’d taste good,” he drops his hand back down to between your legs, his fingers sliding across your folds; spreading your slick over your clit. Probing your entrance with his middle finger, he rubs your bundle of nerves with his thumb. 

“M-Mr. Suh…” you whimper. 

Sliding his finger inside of you, he bites down on your neck. “Shit, baby,” he pumps his finger in and out of you. Squelching noises from your pussy sound out alongside your soft moans. “You’re dripping wet...”

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” you place your hands on the side of his face, tilting his head up for you to kiss him. The taste of his mouth as well as your slick swirling around, arousing you more and more as the kiss prolongs. Your hips start swiveling before you drop down onto his finger — sinking him inside of you. “Mmm…more…” you raise your hips to slide back down on his fingers.

“You sure?” He bites your bottom lip.

”Pleas, Mr. Suh…” you whine.

Chuckling, he waits until you’ve raise your hips once more before sliding his finger out, a strand of your wetness pulling away. Rubbing over your clit gently with his fingers, he soothes you into a comfortable rhythm, your hips following his movements against his cock. When his fingers are nice and wet, he whispers ‘up,’ and you separate from his length. 

One-by-one, Mr. Suh slides in all of his fingers but his thumb into your entrance. Each time allowing you to adjust to his fingers and the spread of your inner walls. It’s been far too long since you’ve felt this good and without thinking, your pelvis starts to grind down onto his fingers. 

“That’s it baby,” he kisses your chin. “Fuck yourself with my fingers.”

With this simple command you sink yourself deeper down onto Mr. Suh’s fingers. Your body arching back, his fingers pressed together creating the perfect arch to rub over that sensitive spot inside of you. Forgetting to be coy, you become a moaning whimpering whore on top of him. The only thing running through your mind is trying to find that sweet release you’ve been dying to feel from the moment he kissed you. 

The way he grabbed you and choked you. The sensuous venom in his voice as he called you a brat. How he couldn’t help but rock his hips into yours while you sucked the life out of his tongue before you showed his cock — mere inches below you, the same treatment. Nothing else matters in the world right now than finding your release, but more importantly that Mr. Suh is the one helping you.

“SHIT!” You screech when a specific rock of your hip has you slowly coming undone on top of him. 

“Right there, baby?” He sits up, moving his body back to get a better angle.

“Yes! Yes!” You cry out.

Like a flash of light, Mr. Suh grips onto your hip while he quickly moves his fingers in and out of you — building up the pressure from deep inside of you. Your body starts to raise higher and higher as he continues to pound his fingers into you. Words are lost on your tongue while cries of pleasure and a bit of pain pour from you. The charging roar of your climax sending chills over your body, your sight becoming dark and blurry until you scream.

“FUCK!!!!” 

Liquid pours from you as Mr. Suh removes his hand, drenching his lap and the inside of your legs. He holds onto you tightly while your body jerks and spasms from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt. 

“Keep going, baby,” he growls his hand rubbing over your clit gearing up another wave of juices to pour from you. “That’s it! That’s a good girl!” He chuckles, amazed at how riled up you got. “But I’m sorry, I need more from you.” Small spasms take over you as your placed with your back down on the couch and your legs wrapped around Mr. Suh’s hips. 

More? How can you possibly give any more than what you’ve already done? You know through the starry blackness covering your eyes, that you’ve soaked Mr. Suh’s lap and his couch in the process and yet he wants more? You didn’t even know you could squirt! And he wants to make you squirt more?!

Unwrapping your legs from his waist, he grabs a pillow from the couch placing it behind your head making sure you’re comfortable. Lifting up your legs he slides your drenched panties up and off of you, squeezing them to see how much of your squirt spills from them and onto the floor. 

“You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you right now,” he growls as the last drop of your essence hits the floor. 

“Then do it~~” you whine, still breathless from your release. 

“Patience, sweetie,” he chuckles, nestling between your legs. “I’m going to savor you for as long as I can.” 

Kissing the inside of your thighs, your body reacts instantaneously. Your legs clamping down around his face making him laugh as he’s squished between your thighs. Prying your legs open he gives your pussy mound a light kiss before his tongue finally lands on your bundle of nerves. 

“SH-SHIT!!!!” Your legs go to clamp around his face but he quickly holds out his hands to block them. “I-I can’t…I can’t…” you cry, your hands gripping the pillow behind you.

Popping his head up you can see your juices smeared across his lips and chin. “Yes you can,” he licks his lips staring you dead straight in the eyes. An involuntary moan has you bitting your bottom lip to keep you from making any more sounds. “You taste delicious,” he dives down for another lick. “Best pussy ever.” He mumbles against your folds.

Spreading your folds with his tongue, Mr. Suh clamps down around your clit, sucking it hard until you’re seeing stars once more. Raising your one leg up closer by your ears you give him more access. His hands move from your inner thighs to your hips while he devours you. Slurping sounds fill the room while he drinks you. 

Mr. Suh works quickly as he gears you up for your next orgasm. Hips moving against his mouth you try to urge your body as well to reach that place of euphoria once more. Hands moving from the pillow behind you to your breasts you massage the taut flesh giving in to the feeling of Mr. Suh’s tongue swirling around your clit and down to your entrance. 

Wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening like this on the couch, your body starts to rile up again. The tiny hairs on your body standing on end, a fire building up from the top of your head making its way to your stomach with ever roll of your hips and every swipe of Mr. Suh’s tongue.

As your hips raise higher and higher so does Mr. Suh’s face. Holding you steady he prods your entrance with his tongue, sucking up all of the juices that have since poured from you. 

“Don’t stop!” You moan. “Please don’t stop!” Darkness starts to take over your sight. The pressure in your stomach exploding into a million butterflies.

Gulping down your juices that starts to pour out of you once again, Mr. Suh wraps his arms around your legs keeping them in place, your pelvis raised in the air. 

“Come on, baby,” he says, face smushed into your pussy. “I need more from you.”  

Shaking in his hold, he moves his tongue up and down from your clit to your entrance again and again until the darkness turns into tiny stars. Finding comfort at your sensitive nub, he swirls his tongue around and around when a loud cry emits from you.

”F-FUCKKKK!!!!!!” 

You twist and try to get away from him when your orgasm takes you out like a freight train. Body quaking more liquid pours from you entering his mouth and onto the couch. Feeling like a fish out of water he uses all his strength to keep you onto the couch and not on the floor — still drinking you up as if he were dying of thirst. 

“I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!” You repeat still feeling his tongue on you. “I can’t!” Your hands flail to his hands tapping them to get him to stop.

Mr. Suh smiles and pulls back giving you small kisses on your clit, your mound and your inner thigh — nipping the inside of your left thigh before finally pulling away from you. 

“I could stay here forever,” he laps up your juices from his lips and chin while you lower yourself back down to the couch. Peeking up at you he kisses your clit one last time, earning a moan from you. “You really do have a delicious pussy,” he gives another kiss to your inner thigh. “Are you still with me?”

Shaking your head you lay there exposed in front of him too exhausted to move. “No…”

Laughing, Mr. Suh sits himself up and goes back to where he was sitting prior to making you a lifeless fuck doll. Giving your leg a little tap he calls to you. “Baby,” you barely have enough energy to look at him to see his sweet smile. Insatiable demon tutor! “Come to me.”

Sitting up lethargically, you find Johnny stroking his cock preparing himself for you. Bottom lip between your teeth, you stare at the man in front of you. How a woman would leave him is beyond your wildest imagination. Crawling towards him like a zombie, he wraps an arm around you as you get settled on his lap.

“How do you still have energy?” You ask him, forehead resting on top of his.

Chuckling, he holds you close to him. “I didn’t come three times in a row.” He gives you a little peck.

”And whose fault is that?” You retort.

”Hmm, I think it was a rather handsome tutor who has been fighting the urge day in and day out from kissing a certain student of his. He’s the culprit! Damn him!” 

“You’re a weird guy aren’t you?” You giggle nuzzling your nose against his. “But are you sure about this?” You ask him. “Once we start there’s no going back.” You hover above his length. 

Shocked by your sudden question, he eyes you carefully. “Are you having second thoughts?” 

“No.” His arms wrap around you, making you feel safe and secure. “But I’m not the one who’s married,” you lean back enough to lick his lips before placing a kiss upon them.

“Is it still a marriage when one person hasn’t called, sent a text, shown up in the last two years?” He nips along your jawline.

“No. I wouldn’t call that a marriage at all.” Reaching between your legs you take hold of his length positioning him at your entrance.

“I’m okay if you’re okay,” he whispers in your ear.

Slowly lowering yourself onto Mr. Suh’s cock the two of you hiss when your walls surround his length. Gripping your waist tightly he grits his teeth at the snug fit. 

“You’re so tight,” he clamps down on the side of your neck. “Fuck! So good!”

“N-No…” you gasp as you bottom out. “You’re just really big!”

Smirking against your skin, Johnny looks up at you. “Don’t move. Just sit here for a while,” he buries his face in the crook of your neck. “I haven’t felt this good in two years,” he sighs contently.

“Wait…You haven’t been with another woman in two years?!”

“No. I always thought…” he goes quiet. “Silly, isn’t it?”

“Not silly,” you stroke his hair gently. “It’s just messed up what she did to you. I mean I wouldn’t leave someone as handsome as you. As sweet and kind as you. As patient as you’ve been with me and this tutoring business.” You start to giggle which draws his attention. “And not to make it all about your dick, but like hell I’d leave a man who’s as big as you.” With a gentle thrust he buries himself deeper inside of you. “Ahhh!!!” You moan. “N-Not cool, Mr. Suh,” you tease. 

“Not gonna lie, it’s been kind of hot to hear you call me Mr. Suh this whole time. Especially now when I’m buried inside of you,” he thrusts upward again. 

“Oh really?” Leaning down to his ear you whisper gently. “Mr. Suh, I want you to make me cum again,” you bite his ear gently. 

Holding onto your waist, Johnny keeps you steady as you start to use his dick to get yourself off. Grinding on top of him, your arms rest behind you, hands on his knees — back arching to feel him rub against you in such a tantalizing way, you start to go cross-eyed. He feels too good to stop or to slow down. His massive cock reaching parts of you no other person, man or woman, has ever reached before. 

“Shit!” You shout when you finally slow down.

Falling forward, one of your hands rests on the back of the couch, and Johnny uses the opportunity to grab your breasts massaging them while you bounce on his cock.

”Aaahhh…” you moan when he pinches your nipples, your hips jutting forward at the slight pain. 

“Come on baby, make yourself cum,” he leans forward wrapping his mouth around your nipple. 

“Fuck~~~” you hiss.

Your hips move faster than ever, your climax getting closer and closer with each swivel of your pelvis. 

“S-So close…” you cry out. 

Biting down on your nipple, Johnny swirls your erect bud within his mouth. Each time the tiniest bit of pain turns into pleasure and shoots to your core. Your body starts growing warmer as you gear up for another orgasm, but you need more, you want more. Tapping his arm he pulls back from your breast with a pop.

Without a second thought you turn yourself around on his lap, back facing him, you slide down onto his cock reveling in the feeling of being filled to the brim. His hands at your hips, you lean back till your face is next to his. Holding the side of your face he kisses you gently while stuffing his cock into your pussy. 

He pummels your pussy, your back arching, hips bouncing on top of him. Reaching around you, his other hand rubs over your clit making you pull away from him and cry out.

”Again! Please!!!!” 

One hand holding onto your neck, the other rubbing over your pulsing bundle of nerves, Mr. Suh pushes his cock deep into your soaking core. Wet squelching noises fill the room along with your moans. Completely bare to the world you fall into a deep trance of lust. 

As you're bouncing on top, Mr. Suh takes his hand and gives your swollen clit a little slap — a small action having you jut your hips forward, your body shivering with pleasure. The word again comes out of your mouth as if it were your mantra, he shoves you down onto his cock while he rubs over your pussy, but not before he gives it another little slap, this time, you let out a guttural scream of pleasure. 

“Ahhhhh…shit!!!!” 

With each thrust of his hips into you, you slide up his cock little by little only to drench his length, the couch, and floor with your juices. Legs shaking, he holds onto you with one hand, the other snaking between your legs — fingers entering inside of you, moving quickly until you release again onto the floor. 

“Fucking love this pussy,” Mr. Suh growls into your ear as he yanks you backdown onto his cock. 

Neither of you waste time as you bounce on top of him again. Still sensitive from before your moans grow louder. Each thrust hitting every nerve of your body just right. Your heart pounds in your ears, as Mr. Suh once again rubs over your sensitive clit. In no time you’re screaming out that you're coming yet again and soon your body pulls away from him as you squirt onto his floor. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he pulls you back down onto the couch.

Lifeless from the epitome of pleasure, he places you onto all fours while he gets behind you. Sliding into you, he grabs your hips and rams into you. 

Back arched, ass up in the air you cling onto the fabric of his couch — now soaked in your juices. Mr. Suh’s long thick cock drives into you, sparing you no mercy as your whimpers continue nonstop.

Wanting to feel him deeper inside of you, you start pushing yourself against him — ass flush against his hips.

“More…more…” you cry out.

Possessed by your own lust for him, you start bouncing on his lap — pussy gulping him down inch by inch. Mr. Suh’s groans getting drowned out by your desperation. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You yell each time your hips meet his. 

Hunched over you, he digs his nails into your flesh as he pushes into you harder balls slapping against you. It wasn’t long until your eyes clench shut and your body starts to tremble. Moving faster Mr. Suh pushes you to lose your senses once more. 

“I-I-I’m coming!” You scream. 

Shoving his cock into you a few more times Mr. Suh pulls out just as you explode, your squirt pouring down onto your legs. Cupping your core, he eases you back down from your high while simultaneously driving you over the edge. 

“Lay down for me, okay?” He asks, kissing your cheek. 

Crawling onto the couch you flop down onto your back, arms and legs feeling like anchors on your body. Chuckling, he hovers over you, hiking one of your legs up to give him more room to move. Dazed you run your hands down his chest feeling the muscles of his body. Biting your lip, you try to keep yourself from coming undone just by the look and feel of him. 

“You’re so beautiful right now,” he smiles, bending down to give you a quick kiss on the lips while he teases your entrance. 

“S-Sure I am,” a shiver comes over you, your hips already moving against the tip of his cock. 

“Trust me, if only you could see how beautiful you look right now,” he rubs the tip of his cock over your swollen pulsing bud before sliding into you. 

Eyes closed you relish in the feeling of Mr. Suh being inside of you. All those days and weeks wanting to know what it was like could never paint a good picture of what it truly was like to be filled by the man above you. The roll of his hips as he goes deeper inside of you. The soft yet powerful thrusts, his body getting dangerously close to yours — trapping you beneath him, somehow getting squished under this man doesn’t sound like a bad idea. 

How he grips your body tightly, nails sinking into your skin causing just the right amount of pain to push you closer to your breaking point. Opening your eyes, you gasp seeing the sight above you. Mr. Suh’s hair drenched in sweat, his body glistening in the light of his lamps. Eyes dark and yet so full of… admiration, you can’t help but pull him down closer to you. Wanting nothing more than your bodies to be connected to each other. 

“I don’t want to squish you,” he chuckles in your ear. 

“Do it, I don’t care.” You wrap your legs just above his pelvis. “Crush me into this couch while you fuck me!” 

Grunting, Mr. Suh slams his hips into yours so hard you see nothing but black for a second. “Shit!” You screech holding onto him for dear life. 

Just like you asked, he doesn’t hold back anymore. His body lowering onto you completely, his hips grinding into yours fast and hard you’re shocked you haven’t been split in half already. Nails sliding down his back, he picks up his pace signaling he’s close. Hands going up to his hair, you grip the ends tightly begging for him to use you. 

“Fuck. That. Pussy!” You growl in his ears. “Shit! I love your dick so much,” you bite down on his ear. 

Like some kind of primal creature, Mr. Suh growls and moves his hips faster and deeper — crushing you into the couch, not caring at all whether or not he’s hurting you. The only thing he’s chasing is the high he's made you feel time and time again this afternoon. 

His breathing becomes ragged as do his thrusts and just as he pulls out of you, that powerful wave of euphoria washes over you. Pumping himself in his hand, Mr. Suh throws his head back as he cums — white strands landing on top of your clit and mound. 

“Sh-Shit!” He growls, his hand moving up and down his length quickly not stopping until he’s painted your pussy in every last drop of his cum. “Fuck~~” he exhales deeply, his body sinking back onto his knees. 

With his length still in his hand he leans forward rubbing the tip of his cock over your clit. You yelp, almost pulling away when suddenly your body starts to become hot. Your breathing quickens and before you know it, you scream as another wave of satisfaction makes you crumble beneath him. 

“F-F-Fuck!!!” He smirks, still rubbing over your swollen bundle of nerves. “O-Okay… okay…” you hold out your hands, body jerking and shaking. “I really can’t… no more, no more…” you cry out and giggle.

Pulling away from you, Mr. Suh takes a breather before tapping your legs that are sprawled out, a picture perfect view of your cum soaked core in front of him. Sitting up he opens his arms for you. Getting up to your hands and knees you crawl over to him only to melt in his arms and lap. 

“That was…” he starts a goofy smile on his face. 

“DAMN YOU!” You hit his chest playfully. “Now I won’t be able to have sex with anyone else.” 

Laughing, Mr. Suh wraps you tightly in his arms kissing the top of your head. “Good,” he pulls back far enough to see your face. “Because I’m far from done with you. I still haven’t punished you,” he squints.

”EHHH?!!!” 

A loud giggle and the slam of a door startles both you and Mr. Suh. Leaping up from the couch and his arms you scramble to get your clothes and throw him his. Both of you heading back to his study, you giggle as you both give each other sneaky touches that if it wasn’t for Lily coming home it would sure start up another round. 

Stepping into your pants and throwing on your bra and shirt, Mr. Suh has since put on his jeans and shirt and is trying to help you as best as he can. Grabbing your hand he pulls you out of his study, down the hall and heads straight for the kitchen. Taking out your binder you pretend that you have been working on your homework and studying when the door opens — just as Mr. Suh sits down next to you. 

”Daddy! Daddy!” 

“In the kitchen sweetheart,” he shouts, his chest heaving. 

Lily comes running into the kitchen with a huge stuffed animal in her tiny arms. “Daddy, look!” She holds out a tiger cub. “Isn’t she cute?!” 

“She’s adorable! Did you give her a name?”

”Kimmie!” 

“That’s a wonderful name,” Mr. Suh strokes her hair. “Is Uncle Jaehyun with you?”

”I’m here,” he saunters into the kitchen, more leisurely looking than what you’re used to. His hair isn’t slicked back neatly, but resting gently around his eyes. Though he still looks put together, a plain white t-shirt and denim jeans, on him — he’s just like a model from a clothing ad. 

“Uncle Jaehyun won it for me!” She jumps and down with the tiger in her arms. 

“Did he?” Mr. Suh smirks. “How long did it take you?”

”Too long…” he groans. “By the way what’s up with the huge wet mess on the couch?” 

Going stiff beside Mr. Suh you try to act normal. You try not to act like you’re the cause of the massive puddle that is slowly soaking into his furniture. Let alone, the floor which Mr. Jeong most likely saw as well. 

“We had to come into the kitchen after spilling some white wine on the couch. It was my fault. I tripped,” Mr. Suh laughs, scratching the back of his neck.

”And you just left the puddle of wine on the floor?” Mr. Jeong crosses his arms, his eyes going from Mr. Suh, to you. 

“I was just about to clean it up when you guys walked in,” he says with an eerie perkiness. “Lily, sweetheart, why don’t you go and put Kimmy upstairs with your other stuffed animals. Your uncle and I need to talk.”

”Okay daddy,” she hops over to Mr. Jeong and he instantly picks her up and gives her a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for taking me to the arcade Uncle Jeong.”

”You’re welcome,” he gives her one last kiss and she skips off to her bedroom.

The kitchen is quiet until Mr. Jeong hears footsteps above his head. Most likely Lily heading to her room. When the footsteps start to disappear, he stares accusingly at both Mr. Suh and yourself.

”What the hell is going on?” 

Getting up from the table, Mr. Suh heads towards a counter far off from where you’re seated and grabs a couple paper towels. Sinking in your seat you stay there before jumping up. 

“I-I can do that Mr. Suh! Plus, Mr. Jeong wanted to talk to you.”

”Seriously, Mr. Jeong? We’re not in class anymore, it’s Jaehyun.” 

“Sorry, Mr. Jaehyun.” You rush over and grab the paper towels and head for the mess you made before anyone could say anything else. 

Taking a peek at the mess Mr… Jaehyun mentioned, you cringe at the face he most likely made. He’s a smart man, there's no way he didn’t think up some kind of weird scenario in his head of what could have happened. And as much as Mr. Suh tried to cover it up, there is no way he’s going to believe that happened at all. 

Getting on your hands and knees you start to wipe up the puddles of your squirt you made on the floor. It wasn’t as much as you thought, most of it on the couch which you’ll have to fork over some of your shopping money to pay for a deep cleaning or a new couch for Mr. Suh. Your head hangs low as all of the different items you wanted to buy slowly become a wish instead of a dream. 

‘What’s your problem? I told you nothing happened!’ Mr.Suh’s voice travels into the living room. ‘Are you serious? That’s what you’re upset about?’ 

Sitting up you lean back trying to see what’s going on in there, but sadly there is no clear view into the kitchen from the living room. 

‘I told you that in confidence and you go behind my back?!’ Jaehyun shouts. ‘What kind of friend does that?’

Mr. Suh went behind his back? You start scooting closer and closer to the kitchen, still within the vicinity of your mess, but much closer to hear what’s really being said. 

‘Have you talked to her at all? Did you even ask her if she likes you? If you’re even her type?’

‘That isn’t what we’re discussing here!’ Jaehyun mumbles. ‘We’re discussing the obvious mess out in the living room!’ 

‘What are you trying to imply?’

Your body has now pressed itself onto the wall, heart pounding as Jaehyun’s voice becomes but a mere whisper… ‘you fucked her didn’t you?’ Waiting for Mr. Suh’s response, your arm that was wiping up your slick off the floor is now wiping a nonexistent mess in the air — your mind far too invested in the conversation both your… teachers are having in the other room. 

‘Why would you think that?’ Mr. Suh replies, his voice steady.

‘THERE IS A FUCKING MESS OUT IN THE LIVING ROOM! Do you think I buy that bullshit about spilling white wine?’

‘Why would you automatically go to sex? Why isn’t it believable that we both sat down for a glass of wine and it spilled?’

‘Where are the glasses? Where is the bottle? Hmmm?’

Mr. Suh doesn’t say a single word. Jaehyun was right, there is absolutely no way that Johnny can get out of this one. Not even you can think of an excuse that would be good enough to use. 

‘Please just tell me you didn’t fuck her… not after I confessed I had feelings for her. Please tell me you didn’t do it, please.’

Your eyes widen at Mr. Jeong’s words. He has a crush on… you shake your head. That can’t be, he’s your teacher! There’s no way in hell he could like you! Even if he did, there's no way that you can date him, it’s unethical! Not to mention…you take the risk and peek around the corner to see both Mr. Jeong and Mr. Suh sitting down at the kitchen table — Mr. Jeong waiting, pleading for Mr. Suh to answer him. 

‘I’m sorry, Jaehyun.’

Jumping up from his chair, Mr. Jeong knocks it over and it crashes to the floor making you jump. ‘Are you fucking kidding me, man? What is wrong with you? I would never do that to you! So why?’ He slams his hands down on the table, ‘why?!’ He shouts.

‘She doesn’t belong to you, Jaehyun. She has choices that she can make on her own. It wasn’t planned and I wasn’t plotting against you. It just… happened,’ he sighs. ‘I don’t regret it, all I regret is that you’re upset with me.’

‘It just happened? Is that what you’re going for? Shit man! I told you once she wasn’t my student anymore I was going to ask her out! What is your —

“I would have said no.” You storm into the kitchen. 

Spinning towards you, Mr. Jeong’s shoulders fall from his ears. “You were listening?”

“You weren’t exactly being quiet.” You take the wet paper towels and put them in the trash. “No matter if you asked me the moment I passed your class or a year from now I would have said no. It would be unethical for you to date a student, a former one at that when they’re still actively going to school where you work.”

“She’s not wrong,” Mr. Suh chuckles. 

“Shut up!” Both Mr. Jeong and yourself say in unison. 

“It was never going to be you, Mr… Jaehyun. I hope you understand. If I led you on in any way I apologize, it was never my —”

He holds up a hand. “You didn’t lead me on, ever. These feelings are mine alone.”

“Where does that leave us?” Mr. Suh stands and walks over to you. “Would you be against us, if we…” he looks down at you. 

“If we become a couple?” You finish his statement. 

Running a hand through his hair Jaehyun shakes his head. “There is one thing standing in your way, pal. You’re still married. What if she comes back? Are you going to drop everything and go back to her?”

Shit… You glance up at Mr. Suh. There is no way he will choose you over his wife, not the woman he’s stayed abstinent for…until now and certainly not the mother of his child. He’d always choose…

“I never plan to leave. I waited for two years. My life has been on hold for two years, I’m not going to let anyone make it stop again. I’ll file for divorce immediately and ask her parents to give her the papers. I should have done this already.” He wraps an arm around your waist. “It’s about time I find someone who makes me happy.”

The room goes silent once more as you wait for Jaehyun to give his blessings or walk out. His eyes roam over yours, but when he turns away the tiniest bit of a smile comes to his lips and you know that everything is going to be fine.

“Damn bro, I’m not her dad.” He chuckles.

“No, you’re just the guy who wanted to fuck me too.” You smile brightly. 

“HEY!” Jaehyun shouts. “I wanted to at least take you out on a few dates first,” he clarifies, a boyish grin across his face.  “But unlike this guy over here,” he gestures to Johnny. “I would have put out some towels first.”

“Really? Jokes already?” Mr. Suh rolls his eyes.

Shrugging he walks out of the kitchen and to the door, both you and Mr. Suh following behind. “Your girlfriend started it. Now just because you’re dating my best friend don’t you dare think for a second I won’t fail your ass!” He warns opening up the door. “You’ve worked this hard don’t throw it away from some —”

”And he’s leaving,” Mr. Suh shoves Jaehyun through the frame of the door. 

“See you at school Mr. Jeong!” You wave goodbye. 

Smirking, he gives you a small wave before leaving. “I expect high marks on your final. Don’t disappoint me.” 

The next couple of weeks were rough. Every day you were grilled from the moment you arrived at Mr. Suh’s house to the moment you packed up to go home for your final exam. It didn’t matter that Mr. Suh fucked you stupid or that you squirted all over his couch and his floor, the couch needing a deep cleaning — even then you still offered to pitch in to get him a new one, but he waved off the offer. The choking, biting, blowjob, everything didn’t matter in his eyes. The only thing that mattered was you would pass Mr. Jeong’s course. 

So you studied. You ignored every throb and clench of your clit and entrance when he would lean in close to you. You swallowed down the urge to climb onto his lap at the kitchen table and have him fuck you while you answered any and all math questions he threw your way. You ignored everything that your body wanted because you too wanted to pass Mr. Jeong’s class. 

What you didn’t expect are your legs shaking non stop while you wait for your final exam grade. The year prior you went into your classroom, took the final exam and left — finding out later what your grade was, but not in Mr. Jeong’s class. This time you needed to meet up at the computer lab because your exam was online, your grade being tallied immediately after you finished, or so you thought. 

You didn’t calculate that all of your other classmates were taking the same test, at the same time and were finishing up around the same time as you. A few people sat back and stared into space, others laid their head down until whenever they felt an appropriate amount of time passed. But you just stared at your computer screen until your eyes started to cross. 

Peeking above your screen to where Mr. Jeong sat at the main desk in the room, reading a book, your eyes met his as he scanned the room. He didn’t say anything but raised his brow. Lowering back into your seat you hear a ding startling not just you but other classmates as one by one your grades are shown. 

Your heart sinks to your stomach. This couldn’t be happening. Hands grip your shoulders from behind making you shout and quickly cover your mouth. 

“I’d like to speak with you after class about your grade.” Mr. Jeong whispers. 

“Uh, yes, Mr. Jeong.”

Sighing, you shake your head when he walks away checking in on other students who were still taking their exams. 

Twenty minutes pass and your math final exam is over and done with. The only other class you needed to complete was a Special Education course in which you just had to turn in your observations from shadowing a teacher for a week as well as write an essay. That class, you’d actually miss, but Mr. Jeong’s… it will be a blessing if you never step foot in this room with him again! 

The last couple of people pack up their things and leave the room. Mr. Jeong erases the white board before turning your way, a smirk plastered on his face. 

“Would you please come up front so we can talk?”

Gathering your backpack you walk up to the front of the classroom, a chair already near the main desk waiting for you, spectacular. 

“So, how bad is it?” You ask plopping down on the seat. “Give it to me straight, no sugar coating Mr. Jeong.” 

“Jaehyun.” He corrects you.

”Still on campus, Mr. Jeong.”

Chuckling, he leans on the desk next to you. “Yeah, but I’m no longer going to be your teacher. So the formalities can drop when we see each other in private.”

”It doesn’t matter if you’re going to be my teacher or no —” you cut yourself off realization coming to you. “Wait… you’re not going to be my teacher anymore?”

Shaking his head, Mr. Jeong smiles. “Nope.”

“Does that mean…?”

Nodding, he takes a slip of paper from the desk and writes down your new final grade. “You have passed this class with a C-.” 

“A C-?” Your eyes go from amazed to grumpy. “I thought it would have at least been a C+ borderline B…” you grumbled.

Taking one of his folders he hits you on the head with it. “Do you not know how shitty your grades were before Johnny started to help you? I’m amazed you even had a passing grade. You did well and I seriously owe Johnny a huge favor.” He snickers. “Or maybe you can just do him a favor,” he wiggles his brows. 

“Mr. Jeong, I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to talk about your students' love life at all.”

”Damn… nothing?” He asks. Shaking your head no, he eyes you up and down. “How does that even happen? From the mess you made I would have assumed the two of you would fuck each other’s brains out every time you’re together.” He clicks his tongue. “Still hate that I sent you to him.”

Laughing, you stand up. “Like I said, Mr. Jeong, you wouldn’t have stood a chance.” You bend down to meet him eye to eye. “Plus, I would mess up your apartment.”

Leaning forward his face inches from your own, “leather couch and that faux wooden flooring. Perfect at preventing scuff marks and for spills of all kinds.” 

Reaching up you ruffle his hair, mess it all up and walk away. “See you around, Jaehyun.”

”You better work your ass off tonight and show him how thankful you are!” 

“Sure thing!” You wave, but when you reach for the doorknob you pause. “Jaehyun,” your voice goes soft. 

“Yeah?” He stands from the desk gathering his belongings. 

“Thanks for the help you gave me too. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have gotten the help I needed. You didn’t need to do that. I mean you guys already have our money. Whether we fail or not… that’s up to us. But you didn’t want me to fail and I didn’t want to fail either. This passing grade goes to you as well. Please never stop helping your students.”

”My place, ask Johnny for directions and you can show me how much I helped you,” he gives you an almost similar smirk that Mr. Suh gave you, must be something they both learned. He bumps your shoulder as you both stand in front of the door. “But seriously, it’s no problem at all. It would look terrible on my record if too many students failed my class,” he places his hand over yours and makes you turn the doorknob. 

“You can repay me by not breaking his heart. I can’t watch him fall apart again.”

”I would never hurt him, Jaehyun. Honest. Even if we do end up breaking up if he ever needed me…”

Pushing you out the door with his hands he closes the door behind you two. “Good. He’s a great guy and he loves hard. It’s never a game with him. If you need to go slow and take your time, which I suggest,” you both walk down the hall to the elevator. “Please just make sure that he’s never kept in the dark with your feelings. It’s not my place to say any of this, but honestly, what his soon to be ex-wife did to him… it was pretty bad.”

”I’m still trying to wrap my head around a mother leaving her child for two years without contact.”

”There are things that even Johnny and I don’t understand.”

”Jaehyun, do you think if she ever comes back Mr. Suh… Johnny will go to her without a second thought about me?” You ask, stepping into the elevator, thank heavens for it being empty aside from Jaehyun and yourself.

“I can’t say for certain if he would or would not.” He pushes the button for the first floor. “They were in love from the moment they saw each other. It was back when we were freshmen in college. Everyone on campus knew them as the “it” couple. He was in a fraternity and she was in a sorority. He played sports and she loved anything to do with the arts. 

“On the outside they may seem different but when you saw them together,” the elevator doors open and you both step out heading for the main doors of the building. “It was as if they were supposed to be together. Two souls that searched the heavens and earth to be together. I’m not saying this to scare you off,” he opens one of the doors and allows you to step out into the crisp winter air. 

“I know.” You whisper.

”All you need to know is that something happened. Whatever that something was, I don’t know and neither does Johnny. He’s tried to reach out to her friends and family but all they’ve said is that they can’t talk.”

”Could it have been something he did? Something he doesn’t know?”

Shrugging, Jaehyun wraps his navy blue scarf around his neck, putting his hands into his coat pockets. “It could be, but if he did do something he doesn’t know what he did.” 

“It still doesn’t excuse the fact that if he did something to make her mad — she refused to speak or even acknowledge her own child for two years.”

”Which is why I’m happy you came along. I genuinely never heard or seen him as happy as he is with you for quite some time — more than two years in fact. Speaking of happiness, let's get away from this dreary subject. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

”I was going to go over to Mr. Suh’s house and hang out before meeting some friends for a girl’s night. A small get together before the winter break.”

”And you’re going back home this winter?”

Stopping in your tracks you look up at Jaehyun realizing that you never once discussed winter plans with Mr. Suh or your family. In fact, you were so busy studying you never asked him if you guys were official. If he and Lily would like to come over during the break. Would it be too early for them to meet your family?!

”Uhhhh…” your eyes start to shake. 

“Calm down,” Jaehyun pats your shoulder. “Johnny and Lily visit his parents during Christmas. So there, now you don’t have to freak out.”

”Jackass…” you grumble before walking away from him.

”My suggestion,” he says, jogging up to you. “Spend New Year’s with him. He’s always at home with Lily.”

”I’ll bring everything up with him when I see him.” You reassure. 

“Sure you will,” he claps you on the back before moving away from you. “I’m parked this way. Make sure you celebrate! It was nice having you in class.” He waves while heading in the direction of his car. 

“Thanks for everything, Mr. Jeong!” You shout smirking as you go back to addressing him formally. 

Giving you a gritted teeth smile he shouts, “your welcome!”

It wasn’t until your normally scheduled time that you head over to Mr. Suh’s. Primary and secondary schools didn’t get to go on Winter break for two more weeks, while you were free to come and go as you pleased. However, living two hours away from the University wasn’t ideal for meeting up to see Mr. Suh and even see Lily. 

You needed to talk to him about what you were going to do going forward. Now that he’s no longer your tutor, you won’t need him (hopefully) while you finish out your years in school; so knowing where you two stand needs to be a topic for discussion. 

Pulling onto Mr. Suh’s street, your hands start to grow clammy. You made sure to tell him as well as Jaehyun that you wanted to be the one to say what your final grade is. No secret text messages between the two of them. Face to face is what you wanted, whether you passed or failed. 

Now a few houses from Mr. Suh’s you sit up in the driver’s seat to find his car is parked in the driveway. A huge smile coming to your face, but the smile soon fades. Not only was his car in the driveway, but an unknown car is parked next to him. Slowly, you park where you normally do at the end of the driveway and you put your car in park. 

Taking out your phone you shoot him a quick message: 

I’m outside. 

There’s another car in your driveway. 

Is it safe to come inside?

You wait for a reply back, but nothing. He doesn’t even look at it. Thinking it’s best to wait for a little longer, you scroll through some of the text messages and social media posts to pass the time until he hopefully answers back, but he never does. 

The chill of the evening starts to creep around you, making you hug your body. It wouldn’t be rude to at least ring the doorbell and make sure that it’s either safe to come inside despite him having a guest or that you need to go back to your dorm, right? 

Shaking your head, you grab your purse, phone and keys. You can’t just wait until the person inside leaves, or for Mr. Suh to pick up his phone to read the message — you’d become a human popsicle by then. Closing your car door you hesitantly make your way up the pathway to his front door. Your mind racing with a million thoughts of how this was both okay to do and rude. 

But for all you know it could be a friend of his over for a quick visit before leaving, just like you. With this thought in mind you ring the doorbell and give the door a light knock. Stepping back you wait patiently for the door to open. It doesn’t take long for Mr. Suh to come to the door but instead of greeting you, he scrambles out of the door, closing it behind him.

”You can’t be here right now,” he whispers. “You need to go. I’ll call you tomorrow and you can come over.”

”I’m leaving tomorrow. I wanted to talk to you about that actually. Is someone inside?”

”Yes, but really you need to —”

”Sweetheart, what’s going on?” A female’s voice calls from the front door. “Who’s out there?” 

“For the love of…” he growls. “Look, you need to go. We’ll talk after you come back from your break. But please, let me explain everything!” He turns you around to your car.

”Johnny what is going on? Who is she?” The woman’s voice sounds closer than before. Looking back you see a rather beautiful woman standing behind him. Her arms crossed over her chest, hip jutted out and eyes bouncing from you to Johnny. “Who is she?”

Stepping around Mr. Suh you walk up to her with a huge smile on your face. “Hi, I’m Mr. Suh’s student. He’s been tutoring me this semester. I just came by to tell him I passed.” Your smile falters as you turn to face him.

”Y-You did?” He searches your eyes for anything that will let him know you’re not mad at him. “That’s wonderful news.”

”Johnny’s always been the smartest man I’ve known,” the woman walks over to him linking her arm with his. “It’s one of the reasons I married him…” 

[a-tiny-thing]

Title: INK'D Hearts: Tattoos and Tangled Sheets Pairing: tattoo artist!hongjoong x afab!reader Genre: tattoo shop au, strangers to lovers, romantic, fluff, angst, smut, opposites attract Wordcount: 26.7k Rating: 18+

Synopsis: All you wanted was to have your first tattoo done and over with. How were you supposed to know that your tattoo artist would be this cute? For the sake of your sanity, you try to get over how good he looks—but fate seems to have other plans. Although you keep meeting, and even if you seem to fit well together, there's something, unbeknownst to you, holding Hongjoong back.

Warnings: reader is described as feminine but uses gn pronouns, corruption kink mentioned, dom/sub dynamics, kinky stuff happens, mentions of feeling insecure, lack of experience on reader's part, the rest of atz make an appearance briefly and are being a little annoying, underground band!atz, hongjoong and reader are opposites (hongjoong being more edgy, while reader is a little softer), mentions of smoking

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

MDNI: Adults only. Minors are not allowed. Any minors found will be blocked.

A/N: this fic was created before i decided to leave this blog permanently, and put on queue to be posted now. this blog is still not active. read here to find out why

Thank you @wongyuseokie for making this banner for me!

Masterlists

The music was loud in your headphones, but you couldn’t make out any of the words the band was singing - it was mostly there to distract you from your thoughts and the bustling city around you. For some reason, everyone and their mother decided to go out today. Walking towards the tattoo shop, you were forced to sneak around groups of people and snake through crowds. Ink’d was right around the corner of the popular market, a place which, unbeknownst to you, was holding a special event today. However, the crowds of people thinned out as you turned the corner down an alley. There were cafés, clothing stores, and hair salons in every other building. On top of each were fancy apartments, probably owned by the same people for the past forty years. However, your eyes didn’t wander much; as soon as you saw the sign for the shop, you didn’t need to look elsewhere. 

Looking down at your phone, you saw you were just on time for your appointment. Not even that could bring down your nerves. This was your very first tattoo appointment, and you had no idea what to expect. Some of your friends had tattoos, and their stories ranged from pretty okay to frightening. With their help, you found Ink’d — your friend, Seonghwa, had recommended you to go to one of the tattoo artists there. After looking through his work on Instagram, you decided to reach out. He was accommodating to your needs even over email and asked you to come in today to see what he could do for you. Despite all of the help and how kind the artist seemed to be, you were still nervous. 

As you stood in front of the tattoo shop, you debated on not going in. You could send an email to the artist and tell him that you were sorry, but you just couldn’t go through with this. It would be rude on such short notice, but you were practically shitting yourself in fear at the thought of having needles poke your skin with ink. The reflective surface of the doors mocked you, but you still couldn’t go in. The shop wasn’t big, but it didn’t need to be to get your attention. The walls were painted dark blue, and the sign that hung above the door was in the shape of a splotch of ink. In the middle of the sign, in big bold letters, it said INK’D. Great. Even the sign intimidated you. 

You looked down at yourself, at your baggy pants and oversized sweater - anything to make yourself as comfortable as possible. Was it good enough for this place? You wouldn’t know until you walked inside. With a deep breath, you pushed the door open… but it didn’t open. On the handle of the door, it very clearly said ‘PULL’, something you had managed to miss. Pushing down the embarrassment for the sake of the tattoo you were about to get, you pulled the door open and walked inside. 

The tile floors looked old like they had been there since the building was made. The edges of the pretty design were chipped, and a few places were missing entire tiles. It was a part of its charm. The walls, on the other hand, were newly painted white - but you couldn’t tell seeing as they were filled with frames. From floor to ceiling, there were paintings and pictures of all kinds covering the shop’s walls—posters of various artists, photos of artwork and clients, and photographs from abstract to realistic. Your attention was suddenly drawn to the reception. A man with cherry red hair and a playful smile stood behind the desk.

“Hi, can I help you?” he asked.

The first thing you noticed about him was how his eyes pierced your soul. His gaze was kind yet powerful, to the point where you almost wanted to look away. This look was only amplified by the thin layer of liner that lined his eyes. His bright red hair looked like it was slightly grown out, but it wasn’t long enough to cover the many piercings along his earlobes. Silver jewelry dangled from his ears, they matched the silver chain around his neck and the rings that adorned his fingers. The tight, black t-shirt he was wearing revealed his toned arms covered with ink. Delicate designs and images adorned his skin, and you could only imagine how many tattoos he had. A few peeked out from under his collar, but you couldn’t make out what the black ink on his neck was supposed to be. You could study this man for hours, but you had to answer him at some point.

“Uh… yes! Hi.” You approached the desk as you fiddled with the edge of your sleeves. “I’m here for an appointment… it should be under Y/L/N Y/N, I’m here to meet Kim Hongjoong.”

“Oh, Y/N, hey…” He looked at his computer, the smile still playing on his lips. “Nice to finally meet you, I’m Hongjoong.”

He looked up at you again, his eyes locking onto yours with that same piercing gaze that seemed to see right through you. A shiver ran down your spine, and you felt yourself growing weak in the knees. This was the man who was going to tattoo you? The thought of the needle was already enough to make your heart race, but now, you had to contend with the added pressure of trying not to make an absolute fool of yourself in front of the impossibly attractive tattoo artist.

His sharp jawline and the confident way he carried himself only added to your nervousness. You watched as he adjusted his glasses, a small, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips as if he could sense your inner turmoil. He turned back to his computer, fingers flying over the keyboard – his nails were painted black, the polish chipped around the edges and almost completely scratched off on some nails. The stark contrast against his fair skin was striking.

As he continued typing, you couldn't help but steal glances at his hands, wondering about the stories behind each stroke of polish. What kind of person was he outside of this tattoo parlor? Your mind raced with questions, each one adding another layer to the mystery that was this man.

When he finally turned back to you, a professional yet warm smile on his face, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “First tattoo, right?” he asked, his voice smooth and reassuring.

“Yeah, it is.” You nodded and looked around the shop while Hongjoong kept typing. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a tattoo shop before.”

“Is that why it took you so long to get in?” he said in a teasing tone.

You looked back at him, only to see him grinning. His smile was infectious, and you found yourself relaxing slightly despite your nerves. In his hands was a clipboard with a paper on it, which he handed to you along with a pen. Your eyes widened as you realized that the glossy, dark walls were actually windows, through which he could very much see outside. The realization added a new layer of vulnerability to your already jittery state.

“Sorry, I’m just teasing,” he quickly added, his voice softening. “I get that you’re nervous. So, why don’t you fill this form out, and then we’ll talk over what we’re going to do today? Does that sound good, love?”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the unexpected pet name, and instead of a coherent answer, an awkward cough escaped your lips. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you clutched the clipboard to your chest, nodding quickly before making your way over to one of the couches in the waiting area. The soft leather cushions welcomed you, and you sank into them, wishing you could stay there instead of going through with your appointment.

With a sigh, you placed your bag beside you and began to fill out the form. Your hands trembled slightly as you scribbled your name, date of birth, and other required details. The background noise of the shop – the hum of the tattoo machines, the low murmur of other conversations, and the soft rock music playing in the background – started to blend into a soothing symphony, helping to calm your racing heart.

You glanced up occasionally, watching Hongjoong as he moved confidently around his workspace. There was something mesmerizing about the way he carried himself, a blend of focus and ease that only came from years of experience. It was reassuring to know you were in capable hands.

As you continued to fill out the form, your mind wandered to the design you had chosen. It was something personal, a symbol of strength and transformation that you had wanted for years. Now, on the brink of making it a permanent part of you, the mixture of excitement and apprehension was almost overwhelming.

When you finally finished the form, you took a deep breath and stood up, clutching the clipboard as if it were a lifeline. You made your way back to Hongjoong, who looked up from his computer with a reassuring smile.

“All done?” he asked, his tone gentle.

You nodded, handing him the clipboard. “Yeah, all done.”

“Great,” he said, scanning the form quickly before setting it aside, and he looked through them before giving you a pleased smile. Maybe it was your nerves, but your heart jolted at his smile. You wanted – no, needed – to please him like that again. “Let’s go to my studio and get started, yeah?”

His studio had the same intricate, patterned tiles on the floor as the waiting room, their glossy finish reflecting the ambient light and adding a touch of elegance to the space. However, the walls were painted a deep, matte black, providing a stark contrast that made the room feel both intimate and edgy. The black surface served as a canvas for vibrant spray paint art – swirls of neon colors and abstract designs that burst forth with energy and creativity. Interspersed among the graffiti were various posters, some showcasing famous tattoos, and others featuring artwork from local artists, lending a personal touch to the décor.

In one corner of the room, a small, well-organized desk sat neatly against the wall. On its surface were a sleek laptop, a modern desk lamp casting a warm glow, and a few neatly stacked papers. The desk exuded a sense of efficiency and order. Beside it stood a modest chair, perfectly pushed in and out of the way, maintaining the room's open and uncluttered feel.

The focal point of the studio was undoubtedly the tattoo chair, positioned prominently in the middle of the room. It was upholstered in smooth black leather, looking both comfortable and professional. Adjacent to it was a matching black leather stool, presumably for Hongjoong to use while working. Next to the chair stood a metal cart, meticulously organized with an array of tattooing materials – inks in a spectrum of colors, sterilized needles, and various other tools of the trade, all within easy reach.

The room was imbued with a sophisticated aroma that hinted at luxury and care. The air was filled with the delicate scents of bergamot, blackcurrant, and jasmine, creating an atmosphere that was both calming and intoxicating. You couldn't quite tell if the source of this enchanting fragrance was the candle burning softly on his desk or Hongjoong's own cologne. Either way, the scent wrapped around your senses, creating a foggy, almost dreamlike state as you took it all in.

Hongjoong moved closer to you, his presence both reassuring and electrifying. The scent intensified as he approached, enveloping you completely and making everything else fade into the background. His hand hovered right behind your upper back, guiding you towards the tattoo chair.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said. “You can sit down right here and we’ll discuss what I can do for you today.”

He took his laptop from his desk and sat down on the stool next to you. You jumped onto the tattoo chair, letting your feet dangle off the edge. Looking down at the floor, you saw Hongjoong’s polished leather boots next to your beat-up sneakers. Everything about him was somehow messy and pristine at the same time — delicate and coarse.

“You got my design idea, right?” you asked to break the silence.

“I did. It’s pretty.” He looked up at you with a friendly smile. “I took the liberty of drawing something up with it as inspiration, do you want to have a look?”

Before you could respond, Hongjoong turned the laptop so that you could see the design. It was a lotus flower, just like your reference picture, and connected to it were elegant, curved lines that stretched out a few inches away from it. It looked like small water droplets were attached to the flower and lines, some of them falling freely.

“What do we think?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured and leaned in closer. “Your art style is so graceful.”

“You’d be the first to say that.” He let out a laugh and pulled the laptop away from you. “This is a little further away from what I usually do. But this suits your tastes, right?”

“Definitely.” You nodded and watched him gather a few things.

“And it’s going to sit right by your hip?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll go ahead and print out a stencil for you. How big do you want it to be?” He put his hands up and measured in the air. “About this big?”

“That looks good,” you answered.

“I’ll get that sorted for you then, love.”

Hongjoong left you alone in his studio, and your muscles finally relaxed. When Seonghwa recommended him, he said nothing about how good-looking and charming he was. Now you wish that you had tried a little harder to get one of your friends to go with you. Being all alone with him only made you more nervous. When Hongjoong came back, he walked over to his desk and picked up his glasses. The thin black frames sat on the tip of his nose as he studied the stencil in his hands. With a proud nod, he showed you the stencil to get your approval.

“Good size?” he asked as he walked up to you.

“It’s good.” You nodded, your fingers playing with the hem of your sweater. 

He looked at you closely, inspecting your nervous fidgeting and the way your eyes flickered around the room. Sitting back on the stool, Hongjoong got right up next to you. The intoxicating scent made you dizzy again, and you put your hand beside you to stabilize yourself.

“Are you nervous?” he asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Just a little,” you admitted with an awkward chuckle.

“That’s okay.” He motioned for you to lay down on the chair and you did as he said. “I’ll put the stencil on you, then you can take a look at it and tell me what you think. Is it okay if I pull up your sweater?”

You nodded and helped him move away your clothes. When the sweater was out of the way, you moved your hands to your pants. They already sat low on your hips, but you loosened the strings and pulled them down enough to expose the entirety of your hip bone. Hongjoong was talking as he put on the stencil, walking you through the steps as he was doing it. His soft voice calmed your nerves and seeing as you didn’t have to look directly at him, your heart started calming down as well. When he peels away the stencil, revealing blue lines on your skin, you look down at his hands.

“There you go, love.” He pushed up his glasses and looked up at you with a smile. “There’s a mirror over there, why don’t you go look at it and tell me if you like the placement.”

You hummed and carefully got off the chair. While you walked over to the mirror, Hongjoong prepared his station. The blue ink looked good against your skin, mostly because of the design. This is why you have been wanting to get a tattoo for so long. You smiled to yourself, looking past the nerves and bubbly feeling in your stomach that you got from looking at Hongjoong.

“It’s perfect,” you chimed.

You walked back over to the leather chair, which was now covered in a protective sheet. A bright smile was painted on your lips as you sat down in front of him again. Something sparkled in Hongjoong’s eyes just then, and you couldn't figure out what it was but you knew that you wanted to see it again. 

“So… uhm…” He scratched the back of his neck and pretended to look for something. “Is the placement and size all good? You’re allowed to change anything, you know? I won’t be upset.”

His reassurance only made you more comfortable. The nerves that had made you want to puke just a few minutes ago, were now suddenly gone. Hongjoong looked back at you with his eyebrows slightly raised, still looking for an answer from you.

“Oh, yes. It’s good. I like it,” you said. “Thank you.”

“It’s no big deal.” He got closer to you, the wheels on his stool easily rolling over the ground. “You can lay back down and I’ll start as soon as you’re comfortable.”

He had black rubber gloves on now, a stark contrast to the delicate silver rings that lay on his desk. The rings, intricate in design, caught the light and glinted, a reminder of the careful preparation Hongjoong had undertaken for your session. His cart was meticulously organized, filled with the colors you had requested. Each ink bottle stood ready, a spectrum of possibilities waiting to be brought to life on your skin.

The tattoo gun in his hand looked like the tip of a small drill, its precision and purpose unmistakable. A medical-blue plastic wrap covered the cord attached to it, ensuring everything remained sterile. Hongjoong began to explain the process, his voice calm and reassuring, a professional easing the nerves of a first-time client. He gently pushed away your clothes, ensuring they weren’t in the way, his movements careful and considerate. The touch of his gloved hands was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth you felt spreading from your core.

You couldn’t help but focus on the way he was inspecting the skin where your stencil was placed. His eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed the area, ensuring everything was perfect before beginning. Your breath caught in your throat, the moment feeling surreal and significant. His red hair, vibrant and striking, hung slightly over his eyes despite his efforts to push it back. The black roots of his natural hair had started growing out, a subtle detail that you could only notice from this close proximity.

He looked up at you then, and your eyes met. Behind his glasses, his gaze was intense and focused, yet there was a softness there that put you at ease. His eyes, framed by the sharp lines of his glasses, seemed to hold a depth of understanding, a silent communication that everything was going to be alright.

“Does that sound good, love?” he asked.

“Sorry?” You had forgotten to listen to what he was saying.

“I’m going to give you a warning before I put the needle on your skin,” he repeated. “Does that sound good?”

“Yeah, it does…”

You leaned your head back against the chair and shut your eyes tightly. Hongjoong warned you that he was going to start, and you clutched the bunched-up fabric of your sweater tighter. It wasn’t comfortable, of course, but it didn’t hurt as much as you expected. 

Hongjoong worked fast, and when he was halfway done he asked if you needed to take a break. You agreed as you were starting to feel a little lightheaded.

“Could you hand me my bag?” you asked shyly.

Your bag was hanging by the door, and Hongjoong quickly walked over to it and picked it up for you. While you pulled out your water bottle and an energy bar, Hongjoong massaged his wrist. He looked over at you with the same playful smile he had worn when you first walked in. 

“Do you have friends with tattoos or something?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“No, it’s just… you seem to know what to do despite this being your first tattoo.” He sat back on his stool, right by your side. “You know Seonghwa, right?”

“He’s the one who recommended that I should go to you.” You nodded. “To be honest, I didn’t even know he had tattoos.”

“Well, I think he only recommended me because we’re friends,” he said and your eyes widened. “He has a tattoo on his back, but I didn’t do that one for him.”

“Seonghwa never told me you were friends…” you muttered, wondering why he had refused to come with you if he was friends with the tattoo artist. You put away your things and dropped your bag by the side of the chair. Hongjoong took the hint and got ready to get back to work.

“I’m sure he just didn’t think of telling you,” he muttered. “He texted me last night to tell me you were nervous about the appointment.”

His words hit you like a bag of bricks. Not only was Seonghwa friends with this guy, but he was also texting him about you. Maybe that was why Hongjoong had been so friendly from the beginning. You had the feeling that he had a constant natural charm, but his comforting words and kind smiles had made you think that maybe you were receiving special treatment for reasons other than friend-nepotism.

“Is it okay if I start again?” Hongjoong’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you mumbled and closed your eyes as he put the needle into your skin again.

At the end of your session, the skin around your hip felt raw and sensitive, a testament to the meticulous work that had just been done. Hongjoong gently wiped off your skin with a wet paper towel, the coolness providing a brief respite from the heat and discomfort. His touch was careful, almost tender, as he ensured that no excess ink or blood marred the final reveal of your new tattoo.

"Go take a look in the mirror," he said, his voice soft and encouraging. You nodded, taking a deep breath before gingerly sliding off the chair. Your legs felt slightly shaky, both from the adrenaline rush and the prolonged stillness of the session. As you steadied yourself, you could feel Hongjoong's reassuring presence nearby, ready to assist if you needed it.

With cautious steps, you made your way over to the full-length mirror on the other side of the room. The anticipation built with each step, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. When you finally stood in front of the mirror, you took a moment to compose yourself before lifting your shirt slightly to reveal your hip.

The fresh lines of the tattoo contrasted beautifully against your skin. Despite the slight irritation that surrounded the new ink, the design was incredibly striking. The intricate details and vibrant colors were even more stunning than you had imagined.

“This is gorgeous.” You gasped and turned back around to Hongjoong.

With your sweater still bunched up you showed him the piece with a small smile, as if he hadn’t been looking at it for the past few hours. Still, he approached you and crouched down a little to inspect it. He wore a small, giddy smile; you couldn’t help but think that for someone who looked like he could kill you with a single glare, his mannerisms were awfully cute. After giving you a proud nod, he backed away from you.

“Some of my best work,” he commented. “Do you mind if I take a picture of it and put it on my Instagram?”

“Not at all, go ahead.”

Hongjoong went to look for his phone and you stayed in the same position, with your sweater still bunched up and your pants almost falling off due to the strings being untied. It was an awkward position, but you didn’t know if you were allowed to move yet. Hongjoong soon came back with his phone in hand and crouched down right in front of you to take a picture of your hip and waist.

“Thank you.” He stood back up and inspected the photo as you put your clothes on properly. “Oh, hold on– before you put everything back on, I have to wrap it up for you.”

You froze as you were about to pull on the string of your pants, and Hongjoong let out a panicked laugh as he went over to the cart with materials. He took out a roll of some white plastic with green stripes in a criss-cross pattern and a big blue line in the middle of it. When he came back to you, he measured it to the size of the tattoo before he cut it off. 

“This is Second Skin,” he said and parted it open in the middle of the blue line. “It’ll feel a bit weird, but you’ll get used to it pretty quickly.”

He pulled off a top layer and pressed the now sticky side to your stomach. His hands were warm now that he didn’t have the rubber gloves on. A shiver sent down your spine as he smoothed out the plastic against your skin. After he expertly pulled away another plastic layer, the Second Skin lived up to its name - you barely felt it. You were much too distracted by the loss of Hongjoong’s hands against your abdomen.

“I’ll give you some more of this stuff so that you can reapply it yourself after twenty-four hours. Then you’re going to want to leave this on for three to five days, and then peel it off under running water. It’s not difficult at all, just take one of the top corners and slowly take it off,” he explained as he examined his application. “You might get some ink bubbles in there, that’s fine you can just leave it- and if your skin gets red where the plastic is applied, that’s normal too. If you’re unsure, you can always just send me an email.”

You hummed and turned back to the mirror, inspecting the now plastic-covered tattoo. You caught Hongjoong’s eyes on you in the mirror, but he wasn’t looking at the tattoo. He was just looking at you - all of you. However, his eyes quickly diverted as he saw that you had caught him in the act.

“Thank you,” you said as you went back to tying the strings to your pants. “I really love it.”

“I’m glad,” he answered. “Listen, I’ve got to go out to the reception- but take as long as you need to get yourself ready. We’ll handle the payment as soon as you’re done, and I’ll get you some more Second Skin and a lotion you can use at home. On the house.”

“Oh, no- I’ll pay for it, I don’t mind,” you argued.

“You’re Seonghwa’s friend, he’d get mad at me if I didn’t.” He walked towards the door to give you some privacy. “Besides, it’s your first tattoo- I have to give you some incentive to come back.”

As if you didn’t have enough reason to come back already…

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The next few days, all you could think about was your cute tattoo artist. Hongjoong's comforting atmosphere, his pretty smile, and his charming words were plaguing both your waking and sleeping hours. His presence lingered in your thoughts, like a sweet yet torturous melody you couldn’t escape. During the day, you found yourself daydreaming about his soft eyes and the way he had meticulously worked on your tattoo. At night, your dreams were filled with his voice, his touch, and the mesmerizing red of his hair. It was as if he had left an indelible mark not just on your skin, but on your mind and heart as well.

Conversations with your friends became dominated by your incessant musings about him. "I can't believe I didn’t ask for his number," you would lament, your frustration palpable. Your friends, patient at first, were growing tired of your constant complaints. Their sympathetic nods were starting to turn into exasperated eye-rolls. "Just ask Seonghwa for his number," they would suggest, not realizing that this simple solution was a source of internal conflict for you.

Seonghwa was the one person you hadn’t confided in about your infatuation. Now that you knew he was friends with the red-haired man, you didn’t dare tell him a thing. The thought of revealing your feelings to Seonghwa filled you with a mixture of embarrassment and fear. When he asked how your tattoo appointment went, you kept your response strictly about the tattooing process, carefully avoiding any mention of the charming artist who had captured your heart.

A week had passed since your tattoo appointment, and you found yourself in a bar with your friends, trying to shake off the haze of infatuation that seemed to follow you everywhere. The Second Skin had been removed, revealing your tattoo in all its healed glory. Despite the itchy phase that had begun, you did your absolute best not to scratch or touch it, knowing how crucial this period was for the healing process. Each prickling sensation on your hip served as a reminder of Hongjoong, making it even harder to move on.

You nursed your drink in your hands, staring into the glass with sad, distracted eyes. The ambient chatter and laughter of the bar did little to lift your spirits. As your friends' conversation ebbed, they noticed your slumped shoulders and the faraway look in your eyes.

“Please tell me you’re not thinking about him again.” One of your friends groaned.

“They can’t help that they have a crush!” Another one defended you.

You looked up at all of them. They quieted down as you opened your mouth to say something. However, you quickly shut your mouth again and went to chug your drink instead. The glass hit the table as you finished it, and you hissed at the feeling in your throat.

"Hey, you okay?" one of them asked, their voice tinged with concern.

You looked up, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Yeah, just... thinking."

"About him again?" another friend teased gently, though their eyes were sympathetic.

You sighed deeply, swirling the liquid in your glass. "I just can't get him out of my head. It's like he's everywhere I turn."

"Maybe it's a sign," one friend suggested. "Maybe you should just go back to the shop and see him again. You know, for a touch-up or something."

The idea sent a jolt of both excitement and fear through you. The thought of seeing Hongjoong again was intoxicating, but so was the fear of making a fool of yourself. "I don't know," you murmured. "I don’t want to come off as desperate."

"Desperate? No way. You’re just interested. There's nothing wrong with that," another friend chimed in. "Besides, from what you've told us, he seemed pretty interested in you too."

“Just go back to the shop and ask him out. If you won’t ask Seonghwa for help, you have to help yourself.”

Their words gave you a flicker of hope, though your insecurities quickly tried to snuff it out. "Maybe," you conceded, taking a sip of your drink.

As the night went on, you continued to ponder their advice, your mind a whirl of possibilities and anxieties. The itch of your healing tattoo was a constant reminder of the artist who had given it to you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if fate was nudging you to take a chance.

A couple of days later, you were standing outside of INK’D once again. You had even dressed up for the occasion, which now felt a little pathetic. Nevertheless, you walked up to the door and pulled it open. It looked exactly as it had the last time you were there, which shouldn’t be a surprise since it hadn’t been that long. Glancing around the shop, you couldn’t find Hongjoong anywhere. Until you heard his laugh, you were starting to think that he wasn’t even there. 

Your eyes immediately followed the sound of his gentle laugh. Behind the reception, stood Hongjoong as he talked with a customer. The shop hadn’t changed, but Hongjoong certainly had. His hair was now shorter and bleach blond, he had a new eyebrow piercing that matched his other silver jewelry, and you could swear that he had gotten even more tattoos - but maybe that was just because he wore a more revealing shirt. The customer on the other side of the desk was a gorgeous woman, who looked to be just a few years older than you. Her arms were also covered in tattoos, and her hair was dyed a fiery red almost like Hongjoong had before. The two of them were leaning against the counter, talking about something that was apparently very interesting - seeing as Hongjoong’s eyes were completely transfixed on her.

You felt stupid in your cute crop top and midi-skirt, feeling the need to hide the single tattoo that you had purposefully left exposed earlier - being surrounded by people who had tattoos all over their skin somehow made you feel self-conscious of only having one, almost to the point that it would’ve felt better to have none at all. The customer paid and left. You were about to follow her out, but it was too late. Hongjoong had spotted you.

“Y/N, you’re back!” he said as you reluctantly approached the counter. “Is everything okay? Is the tattoo healing as it should?”

He looked a little worried, and it hit you that coming in unannounced like this may cause suspicion. This was the last thing you wanted. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks and an anxious clump building up in the back of your throat.

“Oh, the tattoo's fine, really, it's just a little itchy right now—well, more than a little, actually—but I know that's part of the process and I'm trying my best not to scratch it, even though it's really tempting. You said it would be like this while it heals, right? So I'm not too worried, but I can't help feeling a bit anxious about it. I'm just reminding myself it's normal, and honestly, I can't wait to see how it looks once it's fully healed," you rambled but stopped as you saw Hongjoong smiling at you.

His eyes were warm and gentle, but his smile was playful. It was a cruel combination of features to put on such a kind man. Why did everything about him have to leave you speechless? Your long pause caused Hongjoong to speak up.

“Did you come in to book another appointment then, or what’s up?”

He leaned against the counter again, looking up at you with sparkling eyes. The new hair suited him, although it looked like it had gotten a little damaged. Still, he looked just as pretty as last time, and you felt your words get caught up in your throat. You couldn’t ask him out, not now or ever.

“I wanted to…” You looked over at a sign about drop-in piercings that stood on the counter, standing there like your savior. “...get a piercing.”

The words came out of you before you could process them. You had been thinking of getting another piercing soon, but you had no plans on doing it today. However, it was the only way for you to get out of the awkward position you were about to put yourself in.

“Ah, really?” Maybe it was a trick of the light, but you almost thought he looked disappointed for a second. “Well, our piercer is out for lunch at the moment, so you’d have to wait for a while- that is if you don’t mind that I do it. I’ve done piercings before, but it’s been a while.”

“I don’t mind.” You heard yourself saying. To be fair, you were only there to see him - so having him pierce you maybe wouldn’t be so bad.

So there you were. Back in Hongjoong’s room, sitting on his leather tattoo chair. This time it was lower to the ground, allowing him to get closer to your head. You had decided on another ear piercing, adding to the ones that were already there. Hongjoong had stepped out to get his coworker’s equipment, and you were left alone with your thoughts. The prickly feeling under your skin wouldn’t go away, no matter how many deep breaths you took. You had one thing to do today, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to do it. Technically, you didn’t even have the money for a piercing - the tattoo was supposed to be the thing you treated yourself with after working so much lately, so you had only budgeted for that. You were lucky that the piercings weren’t as expensive.

“Alright, this should be all that I need.” Hongjoong snatched you out of your thoughts as he slipped back into the room. 

He organized his station on the rolling table beside your chair. You watched his ringed fingers, admiring his pretty painted nails - wondering if he made the cute designs on them himself. His hands moved quickly and steadily, his eyes analyzing the different items he had brought with him. Despite saying that he hadn’t done this in a while, it certainly looked like he had. Everything about him was authentic, in a way that was both comforting and intimidating.

“Nervous?” he asked. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m just thinking,” you admitted, and he turned to you with a piqued interest. 

“Want to share what’s in that pretty little head of yours, then?” The words came out of him so naturally that it almost felt wrong that your body had such a strong reaction to them. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Work mostly,” you lied and looked down at your dangling feet as you desperately tried to find another subject to talk about. “Does this piercing hurt a lot?”

“It’ll sting,” he admits and looks up at you with that warm smile of his. “But I’ll be gentle, love.”

If Hongjoong wasn’t staring right at you, you’d clutch your chest and lean back against the chair at his words. Instead, you’re gripping the edge of the seat, and hoping that it’s not too obvious that he’s got such an effect on you. An “okay,” that sounded more like a peep than a word, came bubbling up your throat, and Hongjoong stifled a laugh at, what you could only assume was, your innate ability to make a fool out of yourself.

“I’m going to puncture the skin with this.” Hongjoong held up a needle to you. “And then I’ll push in this piercing.” He showed you a simple stud that matched the rest of the metals you were wearing. You nodded carefully, giving him a worried glance. It has been a while since your last piercing and even though you knew you had nothing to be scared of, you couldn’t help but be irrational. Hongjoong notices your nervous state and puts his hand on your knee. His palm is warm, burning through the material of your midi skirt.

“You’ve got this.” That was all he said before he stood up beside you.

His head was right by yours as he angled the needle against the ink dot he had placed on your skin earlier. You could feel his breath against your skin, his warmth radiating from his chest. This man had to secretly be a radiator with the amount of heat he was giving off. You closed your eyes as the tip of the needle made contact with your ear.

“Ready?” Hongjoong asked.

“Yeah,” you murmured back.

The needle prodded through your skin, and it stung just as he said it would. A quiet gasp flew out of you as he pierced through your ear. Hongjoong left the needle and grabbed the small stud again.

“You’re doing so good,” he mumbled as he fidgeted with the earring. “I’m almost done, love.”

You took a deep breath and Hongjoong got back to work. Before you knew it, you had a new piercing.

Your right ear was burning ever so slightly as you were making your purchase at the front desk. You found yourself frequently trying to touch your ear, and then quickly putting your hand down again at the sight of Hongjoong’s warning glare. His small talk had quieted down as you pushed in your code to complete the transaction. The lack of words exchanged only made the air feel more stuffy. When the receipt rolls out of the machine, Hongjoong quickly grabs it and hands it to you. Your hand brushes against his as you take it, and sparks are sent flying through your bloodstream. This was your last chance to ask him out…

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he said with a wink, and your words got stuck in your throat.

“Thanks!” you squeak out before turning on your heel and all but bolting out of the tattoo shop.

That night, you met up with your friends at your usual bar, sporting new earrings but still no love confession to speak of. Your friends were almost more annoyed with you than you were with yourself for the lack of action. As soon as you told them the story, they all groaned in unison, a chorus of exasperation that filled the dimly lit space.

"You've got to be kidding me," one of them said, shaking their head. "What happened this time?"

“I said ‘Thanks!’ when I left, like an idiot.” You groaned and put your head in your hands.

“What? How is that bad?”

You tried to explain, telling them how Hongjoong was just out of your league and how you didn't have the guts to ask him out. They weren't having it, though. They kept trying to hype you up, their voices a mix of encouragement and frustration. "Come on, you can't give up now!" one urged, while another complained about your tendency to chicken out.

Drinks were downed in rapid succession, the alcohol fueling your emotions. Tiny shouts of anger and regret burst from your lips every so often, punctuating the lively conversation. Each time you vented, your friends would nod sympathetically or roll their eyes, depending on how many times they'd heard the same lament.

Just as you were about to resign yourself to a night of self-pity, you saw Seonghwa walking towards your table. Your body reacted on its own, your hand shooting up to point at him. In your slightly inebriated state, your finger ended up pointing slightly past him. One of your friends quickly helped you correct your aim, turning your arm toward the startled man.

"You know Hongjoong!" you blurted out as if this was news to him.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What happened to 'hello'? 'How was your day?' 'Was work okay?' You have to relax," he said, his tone gentle as he sat down on the chair in front of yours. "I heard that you didn’t ask him out."

You felt a fresh wave of embarrassment wash over you. "Do you know when his next shift is?" you asked, ignoring his attempt to make small talk.

Seonghwa sighed, a mix of amusement and mild frustration. "In two days, I think... why?"

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to say. "I'm going back," you declared, mostly to yourself but loud enough for everyone to hear. "I won’t chicken out this time!"

Your friends erupted into cheers, their excitement palpable. "That's the spirit!" one of them exclaimed, raising their glass in a toast. "To not chicken out!"

Seonghwa smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Just be yourself," he advised, his voice kind. "Hongjoong's a good guy."

You nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. The night continued with more drinks and lively conversation, but this time, there was a spark of hope in your heart. As the evening wound down, you found yourself thinking about what you would say to Hongjoong, rehearsing possible scenarios in your mind.

When you finally left the bar, the cool night air was a welcome relief. Your friends hugged you goodbye, their encouragement ringing in your ears. "You've got this," they assured you, their support unwavering.

You regret your words as you stand in front of the tattoo shop, two days later. Nevertheless, you’re determined to do it. Partially because it was about damn time, but also because Seonghwa had relentlessly teased you about not being able to do it, and now you can’t face him ever again if you fail. You haven’t had a date in at least a year, and this was the first guy in real life you’d found remotely attractive since then. He was attractive, kind, and just your type. It was now or never—you just had to go for it. With what you hoped were confident steps, you walked up to the door and swung it open... only to find the shop empty. The sound of someone rustling around in the back rooms caught your attention.

“Hello?” you called out, walking up to the receptionist's desk.

“Just a second!” It was Hongjoong’s voice, coming from further inside the shop.

Sure enough, Hongjoong walked out of his tattoo room thirty seconds later. His hair was still a blond mess, but now he was wearing a perfectly fitted, black button-down with the sleeves rolled up. If you hadn’t been able to restrain yourself, your jaw would be on the floor. He wore a customer service smile, which faltered at the sight of you, turning into a genuine grin. He walked up to the reception with a spring in his step.

“Getting multiple things done in a week, huh?” he said, a playful look in his eyes. “Are you a masochist or something?”

The previous confidence you felt transformed into a ball of shame in your chest. You couldn’t look him in the eyes as your face grew hotter and hotter. Hongjoong noticed your freak-out and immediately went into panic mode himself.

“Oh shit—I'm sorry, I don’t know why I said that. That was too far—”

“It’s okay—”

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you—”

“I’m not offended—”

“Please don’t take this as a bad reflection of the shop, I don’t know why—”

“I came here to ask you out.”

The words flew out of you without warning, catching both you and Hongjoong off guard. They lingered in the air as the tension built up until it was thick enough to cut with a knife. The longer it took him to answer, the more anxious you were getting. With a soft, pitiful chuckle, you looked down at your shoes.

“Never mind,” you mumbled. “I’m sorry—it was stupid—”

“No, Y/N—”

“No, no, it’s fine. Don’t feel pressured to say anything, please.” You looked back up at him and gave him a polite smile. “Thank you for everything, I’ll be… I’ll leave.”

Without waiting another second to hear his response, you turned around and walked out of the shop, shame weighing down your shoulders.

For the next few days, you stayed in bed for most of the day, only going out to go to work or get groceries. You’d do anything to avoid your friends, and you were doing everything in your power to never see Hongjoong again. Have you planned on going to him for another tattoo sometime in the future? Yes, but that was out of the question now. The scene kept replaying in your head—his shocked expression and how poorly you had handled it. You couldn’t remember the last time you had made that big of a fool of yourself.

Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, you kept replaying every detail of that embarrassing encounter. You wondered what possessed you to blurt out your feelings like that, why you hadn’t just played it cool or at least waited for a more appropriate moment. Each time you thought about it, a fresh wave of humiliation washed over you. Your friends' encouraging words now felt like cruel jokes. Why would he ever go out with you? It was stupid to even let your friends suggest that you should go for it.

Every time your phone buzzed with a message from Seonghwa or anyone else, you felt a pang of anxiety, worried it was another reminder of your failed confession. You avoided social media, not wanting to see anything that might remind you of Hong or the tattoo shop. Even the sight of your tattoo in the mirror was enough to send you spiraling back into regret.

Days blended into each other, each one marked by a series of small, mundane tasks that you performed on autopilot. The only solace you found was in the brief moments of distraction that work could provide. Yet, even in those moments, Hongjoong’s image—his smile, his kindness, and that playful glint in his eye—kept creeping back into your mind.

Why did it have to be so difficult? You’d always been so cautious, so careful with your heart, and now this one act of bravery—or foolishness—had left you feeling more exposed and vulnerable than ever before. The fear of facing rejection again loomed large, and you couldn’t bear the thought of putting yourself through that kind of pain once more.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

On the seventh day, there was a knock at your apartment door. Thinking that it was the food you had ordered, you begrudgingly made your way to your door. To avoid having a stranger see the mess of a state you were in, you only opened it far enough for someone to pass the bag of food to you. A perfectly manicured hand wrapped around the side of your door and pulled it all the way open.

“Seonghwa!” Your eyes widened at the man in front of you.

“It’s been four days and you’ve declined all of our meetups,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

Your bottom lip quivered. It wasn’t as if you had gone through heartbreak, or had broken up with a long-term partner, but Seonghwa always managed to get you to crack as soon as you were remotely upset. You threw your arms around him and sobbed against his chest.

“I fucked up, and he totally hates me now!” you wailed in between sobs.

Seonghwa let out a soft sigh and gently patted your back as he invited himself inside. While it was difficult to move around while still holding him, you refused to let go. Your friend stayed with you by your front door, patting your back and mumbling “there, there” every few seconds. After some time of crying, your sobs slowly dying down, there was another knock at the door.

“Food delivery!”

“Coming!” Seonghwa answered. “Go inside, okay? I’ll get that for you, and then we can sit down and talk.”

Seonghwa made himself a cup of tea while you ate your dinner. He hadn’t said anything since the delivery guy had left, and you were trying your best to ignore the tension growing from it. You could practically hear him thinking from where you sat on your couch. Seonghwa was simply watching you from the kitchen counter, where he was leaning and sipping his tea, and waiting for you to make the first move.

“I may have overreacted,” you finally said after finishing your plate. “But I don’t think I’ll ever see him again- just out of embarrassment, really.”

“So you asked him out and he said no?” Seonghwa approached the couch and sat down next to you.

“Well, not really…” You looked at him suspiciously. “You’re not going to tell him we talked, right? I know you’re friends, he told me.”

“I know he told you.” He sighed and put down his cup on your coffee table. “And no, I won’t tell him anything. I’m your friend too, you know?”

“How can I be so sure when you didn’t even tell me that you have a tattoo?” you argued playfully. “How have you hidden a back tattoo from everyone?”

“Don’t change the subject,” he warned. “What happened? Did he say no?”

“Hasn’t he told you already?”

“I haven’t seen him since last week.”

“Oh…” You fidgeted with your fingers and took a deep breath before continuing. “I walked in there, got nervous, and blurted it out like an idiot. He looked so shocked that I just walked out…”

“You didn’t even let him answer?” Seonghwa exclaimed.

You put your head in your hands with a big groan. Falling on your side, you put your head on your friend’s lap - silently asking him to pat your back again. Seonghwa put a hand on your shoulder, while the other played with your hair. You wanted so desperately to know his secrets to have his shit together, but you knew that he’d never tell you — instead, he’d just tell you that you’ll “figure it out.” Whatever that means.

“I just wanted to spare him from having to let me down,” you explained. “It was written all over his face.”

“Y/N, you wouldn’t know what that guy was thinking even if it actually was written on his face,” Seonghwa answered with another sigh. “I can talk to him for you if you want to.”

“You’re not my mom,” you said, “And he’s not my middle school bully.”

“No, you’re right, I’m your mutual friend who could settle this miscommunication…”

You sat back up, facing away from Seonghwa. Rationally, you knew that he was right and that you probably should try to smooth things over. However, you didn’t want to make it worse by not being able to do it yourself. 

“I’m fine, I promise,” you muttered.

“Okay…” He stood up and walked over to your door. “Then you’re coming out with me tomorrow. At our usual place, around eight, okay? Dress up cute, you deserve to feel luxurious.”

“Fine.”

At eight PM the next day, you’re standing outside the bar where you’d promise Seonghwa you’d meet him. To make yourself feel better, you dressed up for the occasion - wearing the items in your closet that you never got a chance to wear otherwise. The cold crept in as the evening turned darker, and you were starting to regret your pretty but short dress. Lucky for you, you saw your friend walking up the street with long steps - it doesn’t take long for him to get to you.

“Sorry, I’m late- work, you know?” He immediately grabbed your arm and led you through the doors to the bar. “You look great.”

“Thank you?” You’re not sure he heard you as he pulled you through the loud crowd to your usual table in the corner, where someone was already sitting.

Your mouth fell open as you saw who was sitting in your usual seat. Hongjoong was looking right at you, just as shocked as he was the last time you saw him. His hair was still blond, mostly hidden under a beat-up, black cap that looked like he had decorated it himself—no manufactured cap could look so creative and authentically him. He stood up to greet Seonghwa, but his eyes never left yours. You couldn't tell if he was checking you out or questioning his decision to come here. You couldn't help but check him out; he was dressed more casually than you but still somehow outdressed you. The sleeves of his black hoodie were pushed up, revealing tattoos that curled up his forearms, and his jeans were artfully distressed. Seonghwa all but forced you to sit down on the couch seat next to Hongjoong.

"I'll get us drinks!" Seonghwa shouted as he walked back into the crowd.

You hadn't had time to process what was happening, but as Seonghwa left, you were filled with embarrassment and pure rage—the latter almost overpowering the former. Almost.

"Hi," Hongjoong said, his voice a familiar blend of calm and curiosity.

He was sitting close enough to talk normally, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him, just like when he had given you that piercing—a constant reminder of your embarrassment. Only a truly cruel creature would curse you with an uncomfortable new hole in your ear that you had to ever so carefully take care of, which, on top of everything, made you think about Hongjoong. However, considering that you had just been freezing, you welcomed his warmth, to the point where you had to keep yourself from leaning closer to him. His scent, a mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him was both comforting and disarming.

"Hi," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Before either of you could speak any further, Seonghwa came back with two bottles of soju and two small glasses. He put them down in front of you, giving you both a look that could only be described as a parent telling their kids to make up after a fight.

"Talk." He pushed the bottles toward the two of you and took a few steps away from the table. "I'm not going to be your messenger."

"Wait, where are you going?" you asked, a hint of panic in your voice.

"Home! To my cat!" He smiled and waved before disappearing into the crowd.

Hongjoong leaned back in his seat with a scoff, making you look over at him. His head was leaning back against the wall, and his eyes were shut tight as if trying to find some inner peace. Suddenly, he sat back up and picked up one of the bottles. As he opened a bottle of soju, he motioned for you to pick up one of the glasses. You did as he asked, and he poured you a shot, the liquid shimmering in the dim light of the room.

“Might as well, right?” he said.

“Right…” You nodded and put the glass to your lips.

“You look pretty.” His words made you choke on the liquid as it came down your throat.

Hongjoong apologized profusely as he patted your back while you coughed. You looked up at him with teary eyes, and the worried look in his eye changed to his usual playful look. The two of you broke out in laughter, the tension finally releasing you from its grasp.

“Off to a good start,” you said and picked up the bottle to offer to pour him a shot.

He accepted the drink, and the two of you took a shot together. Hongjoong’s knee was grazing against yours and, despite the burning sensation, you refused to remove it. As he put down his empty glass, he turned to you.

“I’m sorry about before,” he said, “I was going to say something- you just surprised me.”

“Please, it’s not your fault… I shouldn’t have asked you out in the first place.” You sighed as you poured yourself another drink. “I should know better than to assume your good customer service was flirting.”

“But I was flirting.”

You whipped your head to face him again. He was so casual about it, taking another drink before meeting your gaze. Hongjoong smiled as if he hadn’t just said what he had said, and you felt an overwhelming urge to disappear for at least a few months. The nonchalance in his expression, combined with the casual lift of his glass, made you feel like the ground had shifted beneath you.

“You were flirting?” you asked and looked down at your hands. “So I was overreacting this entire time?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly handle it great,” he countered. “I think you had every right to be upset by my reaction- even if it would’ve been nice if you had stayed to hear my answer first.”

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down to try to meet your lowered gaze. “We’re here now, right?”

You looked up at him, and he gave you a lopsided grin that you couldn’t help but return. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe you were just feeling butterflies in your stomach, nevertheless, your skin was tingling all over.

“Even if it was orchestrated by our friend,” you added.

“Yeah… can’t say that I hate him for it, though.” He turned to pour himself another drink, but you could see his shy smile.

“So?” you said, suddenly more confident as you leaned in a little closer to him.

“What?” He looked back at you, his nose inches away from yours.

“Would you go out on a date with me?”

“Sure. Wanna go now?”

That’s how you end up walking beside Hongjoong to a small restaurant that he had looked up just a few minutes earlier. It was close to the bar, but you were already freezing after just a few minutes. You glanced at the jacket hanging over Hongjoong’s arm - it felt a little cliché of him to have a leather jacket, but you suppose it’s part of his charm - and pray that he can sense that you’re freezing.

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked.

“Not really,” he replied. “Are you?”

“A little,” you mumbled.

He picked up his jacket from his arm, and got your hopes up, only to put it down on the other arm - the one furthest away from you. Your brows furrowed slightly but before your brain could start spinning ideas, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He had given you a taste of his warmth before, but now it overflowed in you. You kept your eyes on your feet as you kept walking, and Hongjoong bent down to try to find your gaze.

“Warm?” he asked.

“Why’d you…” You couldn’t find any words, too engrossed in his embrace.

“What? Did you want my jacket?” He finally got you to look at him, and flashed you a teasing grin. “Cute.”

He must have been a little tipsy — as evident by the pink glow on his cheeks — because, while he had been confident before, you had never seen him so comfortable being a flirt like he was right now. Hongjoong let go of you and took his jacket to wrap around your shoulders. The jacket was heavy and his scent lingered on it, it was a constant reminder of what his hold would feel like. A while ago, you would’ve never believed that you’d be in this position - now that you were, it was almost overwhelming.

“The restaurant’s over there!” Hongjoong grabbed your hand and led the way, completely unaware of the effect he had on you. “Let’s go!”

“Favorite color?”

“Red and yellow.”

“Really? Not black?”

“I like colors, too.”

You hummed and picked up another fry. The restaurant Hongjoong had found was a cute 50s-themed diner - the kind with big milkshakes and long, plastic menus. It was late, and this had been the only thing open that you didn’t need a reservation for. The milkshake you shared was almost gone, and the fries were half-eaten and getting cold. Both of you stuck out in your colorful booth - you for being so dressed up, and Hongjoong for being dressed in all black. It wasn’t the kind of date you’d brag to your friends about, but you were still having a good time. 

“What is your…” Hongjoong leaned back and paused to think of his next question. “... favorite ice cream flavor?”

The two of you had been going back and forth, asking each other banal questions to get to know each other better - getting through the questions quickly “to make up for lost time,” as Hongjoong had put it.

“Hm… that’s hard,” you muttered. “I do like mint-choco–”

“No…” Hongjoong groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose in disappointment. “You’re seriously into chocolate and toothpaste?”

“It doesn’t taste like toothpaste!” You giggled. “You can’t judge me, you like minions.”

“They’re cute!”

“They’re horrible!” you countered. 

“Maybe you just have bad taste.” Hongjoong ate another fry before meeting your eyes again, slightly more serious. “Except for tattoos, I think your design was really sick.”

You leaned against the table, the plastic sticking to your warm skin - just a few seconds ago you had been freezing, but now you could practically be the heat source for your entire apartment complex. 

“It’s all you,” you said earnestly. “You really brought it to life.”

He leaned against the table with his forearms as well, his hand getting closer and closer to yours but his eyes never looked away from your face.

“If you keep complimenting me like that, I’m going to start thinking you’re trying to seduce me.” His middle finger reached yours, and you swore you could feel sparks coming from where they met.

Maybe it’s the lighting, but you swear that his brown eyes go on forever. The lighting can’t make everything else disappear, though - that was just him. Hongjoong’s hand inched closer until it covered the back of your hand. The intricate tattoos on his hand were faded, but it made it seem more genuine. This feeling was dangerous, you knew that - but can’t you allow yourself one night of indulgence? As you were about to reply, the waitress came up to your table.

“Is everything alright over here?” she asked with a classic customer service tone, but her tapping foot told a different story from her bright smile.

“Yeah, thank you.” You sat back in your seat, pulling your hand with you and onto your lap - you could no longer look Hongjoong in the eye, not now when the spell was interrupted.

“Alright, just checking in,” the waitress continued. “Just to let you know, we close in about fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we were about to leave now anyway,” Hongjoong answered and stood up from his seat and put enough cash on the table to cover the cost of the food and a tip. “Can I walk you home, Y/N?”

You looked up at him as he held his hand out to you. With little to no hesitation, you grabbed the leather jacket by your side and took his hand. The two of you said goodbye to the waitress and thanked her, before quickly leaving the establishment.

Hongjoong walked you home, the two of you talking all the way to your apartment. You asked him about his practice, and he asked you about your plans for the future once you had told him you didn’t want to continue being a barista. His jacket was wrapped around your shoulders again, but now his hand was in yours - keeping you more than warm. The streetlights were illuminating your path toward your apartment complex, and you could already see the building in the distance. A sudden urge to slow your steps down struck you then - a need to slow time to make his presence last. Maybe it was his warmth or the way he laughed at every silly joke you said, but you couldn’t help but want to spend more time with him. You’re so lost in your world, that you don’t even realize that Hongjoong has quieted down - or that he’s staring at you.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just tired,” you answered, almost too quickly.

“It’s late.” He nodded. “Where’s your place?”

“Just up ahead.” You pointed to your building and let your arm fall to your side again. “You don’t have to walk me all the way if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” He shrugged. “I liked spending time with you tonight.”

While his eyes were fixated on the building not too far from you, you took the time to study his profile. Enamored with the sharp lines of his face — his nose, his jaw, his cheekbones — you found yourself wanting to look at him for just a little bit longer; as if you had wasted so much time by looking away out of shyness. Before you knew it, you arrived at the door to your apartment complex and Hongjoong stopped walking.

“I’ll wait for you to get inside,” he promised as he turned to you with a boyish smile.

You almost wanted to ask him to come up to your place, but decided it would be too forward for a first date. If he had been anyone else you might’ve invited him up, but Hongjoong was the type of person you wanted to savor. 

“Goodnight, then,” you said with a smile and started walking to the door.

“I’m glad that Seonghwa made me come out tonight,” he added quickly and you turned back to him. “Really glad.”

Within a few steps, you were right next to him again. Leaning towards him, you pressed a kiss on his cheek. He took your jaw in your hands, bringing you closer for a real kiss. It was short and chased, but you could feel the effort it took for him to break the kiss as the air around you became thick. 

“I’m glad, too,” you murmured. 

“Goodnight, then,” he mimicked you.

“Goodnight.” You gave him a last smile before turning around and walking into your apartment building.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few days passed before you saw Hongjoong again. During that time, you couldn't stop talking your friends' ears off about him—every conversation seemed to circle back to his smile, his style, and the way he made you feel. Your friends, exasperated yet amused, repeatedly urged you to ask him out on another date already. The only problem was that you still hadn’t gotten his number. Despite this, luck seemed to be on your side. 

The late shift had been brutal. You were exhausted, every muscle in your body ached, and all you wanted was to collapse into bed. The chaos of the day had left the place in disarray, and cleaning up had taken what little energy you had left. As you dragged your feet towards the exit, you heard your name being called out.

You turned, slightly puzzled, to see Hongjoong standing beside a sleek red motorbike. You blinked in surprise, not having expected him to be the type to ride a motorcycle. The sight was jarring at first, but then you realized it actually fit perfectly with his whole aesthetic—edgy, confident, and effortlessly cool. His face lit up with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. You hadn't seen him in a while, and the sight of him brought a rush of mixed emotions.

"Hey! Need a ride home?" he called out, holding up a spare helmet.

“How did you know my shift ended now?” you questioned with an incredulous smile.

“I asked Seonghwa,” he explained with a shrug. “Thought, since I hadn’t seen you in a while, I’d offer you a lift.”

“You did?” You felt your face grow warm as he walked over to you. “That’s very sweet of you…”

“So can I?” he asked.

You had no clue what he was talking about, as you were too distracted by everything about him. Now that he had come a little closer, you could smell the faint scent of his intoxicating perfume. An urge to wrap your arms around him hit you then, and you had to press your nails into your palms to stop yourself.

“Can you what?” You looked up at him with big eyes.

“Drive you home?” He let out a small laugh that had your heart beating a mile per minute.

You blinked, processing the offer. "Uh, sure," you replied, your voice wavering with nerves and excitement.

Hongjoong's grin widened. "Great! Hop on."

Hongjoong walked back to the bike, got you a helmet, and helped you put it on. With shaky hands, you took the helmet and fastened it on, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach. Climbing onto the bike behind him, you hesitated for a moment before wrapping your arms around his waist. The engine roared to life, and you clung to him tightly as the bike sped off into the night.

The ride was a whirlwind of sensations. The cool evening air rushed past, the roar of the engine vibrated through you, and the warmth of Hongjoong's body against yours provided a strange comfort. Fear and exhilaration mingled as you held on, your heart pounding not just from the speed, but from the closeness to him.

When he finally pulled up in front of your place, you reluctantly let go and removed the helmet, your hair slightly tousled. Hongjoong turned to you with that infectious smile. He got off after you and walked you to the door of your apartment complex.

"Safe and sound," he said as you arrived at the door. "Hope the ride wasn’t too scary."

You shook your head, unable to suppress a grin. "No, it was... amazing. Thanks for the ride home, Hongjoong."

"Anytime," he replied, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer. "Get some rest.”

It was a sure goodbye, but neither of you moved. You kept your eyes on him, and you couldn’t shake the building anticipation in your chest. A realization that you still didn’t have his number hit you—your eyes widened and you let out a soft gasp. Hongjoong raised his eyebrows in slight surprise, as he watched you rummage around your bag. Finally, you pulled out your phone.

“I don’t have your number!” you exclaimed.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Hongjoong chuckled and took your phone in his hand.

The screen showed a new contact, and he typed his information into the small boxes. It only took a few seconds before he was done, and he handed you back the phone. “Tattoo guy,” it said in the box where his name should be.

“Tattoo guy?” You snorted. “Is that how you think I see you?”

“Okay wait, give it back. I’ll fix it.” Hongjoong chuckled and held out his hand.

You put the phone back in his hand, and he quickly typed something new in the name box. When you got your phone back it now said “Cute tattoo guy” instead. You smiled at the phone and looked back up at him.

“I’ll accept it.” You nodded.

“Good,” he said and paused to look at you. “I really want to kiss you again… is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

Hongjoong leaned down, capturing your lips with his for a chaste kiss that left you wanting more. Yet again, he didn’t give you more—but he smiled knowingly when he noticed how you chased after his lips. 

“Call me?" he asked.

"Definitely," you nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you at the prospect.

As you watched him ride off into the night, you couldn't help but feel a spark of something new and exciting igniting within you. The exhaustion of the shift faded away, replaced by a thrill.

After getting up to your apartment and getting ready for bed, you called him. You weren’t sure if he had meant “call me as soon as you can” when he had asked you to call him, but you didn’t know when else to call. Your heartbeat quickened with each ring before he eventually answered.

“Hello?”

You heard someone shushing other people in the background—maybe you were hallucinating, or it really sounded like Seonghwa. 

“Hongjoong?” you asked.

“Hi, sweetheart!” You heard him shuffle to get up, the murmurs continued before you heard a door open and shut—the wind was now the only background noise.

“Am I interrupting something?” you mumbled.

“Not at all, I’m just with a few friends,” he explained. “I was going to step out for a smoke anyway, they’ll just have to deal with my absence for a bit.”

You heard the sound of a pack of cigarettes opening and a lighter being lit. With the nerves slowly disappearing, you lay down on your back on your bed.

“You smoke?” you asked.

“Is that a turn-off?” he answered with a question. “I’ll stop if it is.”

“No, it’s fine.” You giggled and turned over on your stomach. “I’ve just never smelt any smoke on you before.”

“I don’t smoke that much. I’m trying to quit,” he admitted. “... just not very hard.”

The sound of him taking another drag from the cigarette echoed through the phone, and you let out another small laugh. You felt like you were in high school again, your feet kicking in the air in a slow rhythm.

“Is there a special reason you called tonight, or do you just miss me, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Ah, well… you said to call you and I wasn’t sure when I was supposed to…” you mumbled.

“You’re cute.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m glad you called, actually. I wanted to ask you out on another date.”

You could feel your heart beating in your throat as you listened to Hongjoong's voice on the other end of the line. You fumbled around on your bed until you sat up, trying to calm your nerves. Even though he couldn't see you, you quickly fixed your now messed-up hair, wanting to feel more presentable. His laugh echoed through the phone, and you found yourself smiling, but your hands still shook a little. Talking to him made your heart race, and you couldn't help but imagine him right there with you.

“When?” you asked.

“I have a late appointment tomorrow,” he admitted. “But how about the day after that?”

“I could do that–” You hesitated and thought of your work schedule. “I have a shift until the afternoon, but I could meet you after.”

“Sounds great, I’ll pick you up after your shift. Just text me what time it ends and I’ll be there.” The sound of the door opening and the chatter from inside poured through the phone. Someone asked Hongjoong something and he told them to wait a minute. “Sorry, sweetheart, I have to hang up… text me later, okay?”

“I will,” you hummed. “Goodnight, Hongjoong.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said melodically. 

You hung up with a big grin on your face. The only issue now was how you could ever fall asleep tonight.

The day of your date finally arrives. You finish your shift and eagerly text him the time you’ll be off your shift. True to his word, you spot him waiting for you outside your workplace on his sleek black motorbike, a charming smile lighting up his face as you approach.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets you warmly, swinging off the bike to offer you a helmet. “Ready for a little adventure?”

You grin, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of riding with him. “Absolutely!”

You hop on behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he starts the engine with a low rumble. The ride to the rooftop bar is exhilarating, the wind tousling your hair and the city passing by in a blur of lights. Hongjoong navigates effortlessly through the traffic, occasionally glancing back to check if you’re comfortable.

Arriving at the rooftop bar, you dismount gracefully, a thrill still lingering from the ride. Hongjoong leads you inside through a discreet entrance, where soft, ambient lighting and the distant hum of conversation immediately set a sophisticated and intimate mood. It’s a casual bar, making your nerves about being underdressed disappear. The bar is adorned with modern decor, plush seating, and a breathtaking view of the city skyline twinkling in the distance.

“This place looks amazing,” you comment, taking in the cozy atmosphere as you settle into your seat at a secluded table.

“I thought you might like it,” Hongjoong replies with a grin.

A waiter walks up and talks to Hongjoong like they’re old friends. He introduces himself to you as Yunho and offers the two of you free first drinks. While Hongjoong tries to decline, Yunho is adamant that he wants to leave a good impression on the person who’s had Hongjoong so distracted lately. With that teasing remark, Hongjoong lets up. Yunho leaves with a wink to you, telling you that he’ll be back with drinks soon.

“I thought he’d be normal about this,” Hongjoond admitted with a sigh. “Sorry…”

“I think he’s nice,” you said and looked over at him with a sly smile. “... I distract you?”

“No– well, yes, but…” You’ve never seen Hongjoong stumble over his words like this before, it’s a sight you could get used to. “I was at Yunho’s place when you called the other day. They haven’t stopped teasing me about it since.”

“I’m sorry,” you said with a not-so-sorry smile but decided to change the subject to be lenient on him. “How do you know each other?”

“He’s in a band I’ve written a few songs for,” he explained. “I’ll take you to one of their gigs sometime if you want.”

“That sounds fun.” You stare at him quizzically. “You just keep revealing new secrets to me, I’m wondering what else you’re hiding.”

“What?”

“It’s just that… there’s so much I don’t know about you, and everything new I learn surprises me.” 

You fidget with one of the napkins on the table. Hongjoong puts one of his hands on top of yours, finding his way to hold your hand. When you looked up at him, he was smiling—a smile that was more like a hug, comforting and soothing.

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” he said. “Soon it won’t be very surprising.”

“I’ll be honest… I don’t know how you could possibly top being a smoking, bike-riding, song-writer.” You let out a nervous chuckle.

Before he can answer, Yunho comes back with the drinks. As you sipped your cocktails, conversation flowed effortlessly between you. You talked about music, discovering Hongjoong’s unique taste, and deep knowledge of various genres. The live band started playing soft, soulful tunes, their melodies blending seamlessly with the murmurs of other patrons.

At one point, Hongjoong leans closer, his voice softening. “I’m really glad we could do this,” he says, his eyes locked on yours. “You look beautiful tonight.”

You blushed at his compliment, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Thank you,” you replied softly, meeting his gaze with a smile.

The night continued with laughter and meaningful conversation. Hongjoong suggested taking a walk along the rooftop’s edge, where you can feel the cool night breeze and admire the city lights below. You strolled hand in hand, the soft glow of the moon overhead adding to the enchanting atmosphere.

As the evening winds down, Hongjoong leads you back to his bike, helmet in hand. He helped you put it on with a gentle touch, the closeness making your heart race with anticipation. The ride home was quick, and Hongjoong drove carefully—although he only had one drink many hours ago, he told you that he didn’t want to risk it.

“Thank you for tonight,” you said softly, overwhelmed with gratitude for the wonderful evening.

“It was my pleasure,” Hongjoong replied warmly, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. “Can we do this again soon?”

You nodded eagerly, already looking forward to the next adventure with him.

“I’ll text you,” he promised, leaning in to give you a tender kiss on the cheek before you parted ways.

You watched him ride off into the night again, a contented smile on your face. This night, filled with exhilarating moments, heartfelt conversations, and a touch of romance, has left you certain of one thing—Hongjoong is someone special.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The following week, you decided to surprise Hongjoong with lunch. He had mentioned offhandedly that he often didn’t have time to grab something to eat between appointments, and you figured a little gesture of kindness would brighten his day—and give you a reason to see him again. You had the morning shift, and at the end of it, you made the lunch of any leftovers that your boss wouldn’t notice if it went missing. As soon as the clock struck twelve, and your shift was over, you headed out.

As you approached the studio, you saw Hongjoong through the window, chatting with a customer. Your heart sank when you realized it was the same person he had been talking to the last time you were here. She was as gorgeous and intimidating as the first time you had seen her. They were laughing, and the way she leaned in closely sent a pang of jealousy through you.

You hesitated at the door, debating whether to turn around and leave. Just as you were about to retreat, Hongjoong glanced up and his eyes met yours. His face lit up with that familiar, infectious smile, and he immediately bounced over to the door, leaving the customer mid-sentence.

"Y/N! What brings you here?" he asked, genuinely pleased to see you.

You held up the lunch bag, trying to keep your tone casual. "I brought you lunch. You mentioned you didn’t have much time to get food, so I thought I’d help out."

Hongjoong's eyes sparkled with delight. "That’s so sweet of you."

He took the bag from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. The customer, now standing awkwardly by the counter, cleared her throat and gave a half-hearted smile before leaving the studio with a curt goodbye.

Hongjoong didn’t seem to notice the customer's departure or the slightly annoyed look on her face. Instead, he turned his full attention to you, completely oblivious to the fact that she had been flirting with him just moments before. Your eyes met his again after watching her leave.

"Was that jealousy I saw on your face just now?" he teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. "You looked like you were ready to storm out."

You felt your cheeks heat up and quickly shook your head. "No, I just... didn’t want to interrupt."

Hongjoong chuckled warmly, his laughter putting you at ease. "Well, I’m glad you did. This looks delicious." He peeked into the bag and smiled appreciatively. "Seriously, thank you."

You shrugged modestly, attempting to hide your nervousness. "It’s nothing. Just thought you could use a good meal."

His expression softened as he stepped closer. "It means a lot. Really. I’ll make sure to savor every bite."

His sincerity touched you deeply, and a warm feeling spread through your chest. "I’m glad," you managed to say, feeling a surge of happiness at his genuine appreciation.

Hongjoong leaned in slightly, his voice softer now. "You always seem to know how to make my day better," he confessed, his gaze earnest.

A flutter of butterflies danced in your stomach at his words. "I’m just happy to help," you replied softly, meeting his eyes with a smile.

He nodded, his smile widening. "Well, I’m grateful for it. And I owe you one."

Before you could respond, he reached out and gently squeezed your hand, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. The simple gesture sent a rush of warmth through you, leaving you both comforted and excited for what might come next.

"I'd love for you to stay," Hongjoong said earnestly, his eyes reflecting a mix of sincerity and hope.

You hesitated, feeling a flutter of nerves despite the warmth his presence brought. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to intrude..."

Hongjoong shook his head, his smile reassuring. "You wouldn't be intruding at all. I enjoy your company, and I'd love to share this lunch with you."

His sincerity melted away your reservations. "Okay then," you replied softly, smiling back at him.

He led you to a cozy corner of his office where he had already set out the lunch you had brought. You settled into chairs nearby, the familiar buzz of the studio outside muffled by the closed door.

As you both ate, the conversation flowed easily between you. You talked about his latest projects, your shared love for certain bands, and plans for the upcoming weekend. Hongjoong's passion for music shone through as he animatedly described his friend’s upcoming gig.

"You should come," he suggested, his eyes lighting up. "It’s going to be a great show, and I’d love for you to be there."

You considered it for a moment, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of experiencing another part of Hongjoong’s world. "I'd love to come," you replied warmly. "It sounds like a lot of fun."

His smile widened, a mixture of happiness and anticipation. "Great! I’ll send you the details later. My friends will love you, I’m sure."

As lunch drew to a close, you found yourself reluctant to leave. The afternoon had been unexpectedly intimate and comforting, deepening the bond between you and Hongjoong. You were beginning to see glimpses of how well you fit together, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place.

"I should probably get going," you said, glancing at the time.

Hongjoong nodded, but his eyes held a hint of reluctance. "I understand. Thanks for staying. I always enjoy your company."

You smiled warmly. "Thank you for inviting me. I had a great time."

Walking out of the tattoo shop, you couldn’t help but replay the moments spent with Hongjoong in your mind. Each interaction seemed to reinforce the connection between you, leaving you eager for more shared experiences and conversations. As promised, Hongjoong texted you later with the details of his friend's gig. You replied with enthusiasm, already looking forward to the weekend and the chance to see him again. 

Your heart raced with excitement and a touch of nervousness as you meticulously prepared for your next date with Hongjoong. After several wardrobe changes and a quick touch-up of makeup, you settled on your favorite outfit: a soft, flowy blouse paired with well-fitted jeans. The blouse, a delicate shade of lavender, complemented your complexion, while the jeans, perfectly worn-in, exuded a laid-back vibe. You added a few subtle accessories—a dainty necklace that caught the light just so, and a pair of earrings that added a touch of sparkle.

The anticipation bubbled within you as you imagined the evening ahead. It wasn't just about the outing itself but the chance to see Hongjoong in his element, surrounded by the music and energy that fueled his passion. You wondered what surprises the night might hold, eager to share more moments together and deepen the connection that had been growing steadily between you.

With a final check of your phone for any messages from Hongjoong, you grabbed your keys and headed out the door. Each step carried a mixture of excitement and anticipation, knowing that tonight would be another chapter in your unfolding story with Hongjoong—a story that seemed to promise more laughter, heartfelt conversations, and perhaps even a hint of romance.

When you arrived at the venue, the place was already buzzing with energy. The dim, moody lighting and the low hum of the crowd set the perfect atmosphere for a night of live music. Hongjoong had invited you to his friend's gig, and as you stepped inside, you couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between your outfit and the attire of the other attendees. The room was filled with people dressed in sleek black attire—leather jackets, ripped jeans, and boots. Hongjoong fit right in.

For a moment, self-consciousness crept in as you wondered if you had misjudged the dress code. However, Hongjoong's wide smile and warm hug dispelled any lingering doubts.

"I’m so glad you came," he said, taking your hand. 

You returned his hug, feeling reassured by his warmth. "Wouldn't miss it," you replied with a smile, trying to shake off your initial uncertainty about your outfit choice.

Hongjoong glanced at your outfit, a playful glint in his eyes. "You look amazing," he said sincerely, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "I love the pop of color—it stands out in the best way."

His compliment eased your nerves, and you found yourself relaxing in the vibrant atmosphere of the venue. As Hongjoong's friend took the stage, you settled in beside him, enjoying the electrifying energy of the crowd and the raw passion in the music.

As the concert started, the venue's atmosphere crackled with energy. Jongho, the charismatic singer; Mingi and San, the energetic guitarists; Yunho, the cool and composed bassist; and Yeosang, the talented drummer took their positions on stage. Wooyoung, who, despite not seemingly being a part of the band, was just backstage as Hongjoong pointed out to you. If only Seonghwa were here, the entire group would be together—and you were starting to notice why they were so close.

They launched into their first song, filling the air with pulsating rhythms and electrifying melodies. Not only was their music and stage presence impressive, their chemistry with each other was undeniable. The crowd around you danced and cheered, fully immersed in the music and the infectious excitement of the performance.

You stood beside Hongjoong, initially captivated by his enthusiasm and the way he effortlessly moved to the beat. However, as the concert progressed and the crowd grew more animated, you found yourself momentarily separated from him in the sea of bodies. Panic gripped your chest as you scanned the area, searching for his familiar figure amidst the shifting shadows and flashes of colored lights.

The dim lighting and the swirling mass of people seemed to conspire against you, making it difficult to pinpoint his location. Voices merged into a distant roar, blending with the thumping bass and reverberating guitar riffs. You pushed through the crowd, calling out his name in a mix of urgency and concern, your heart pounding in your ears.

Just as your anxiety peaked, a flash of bleach-blonde hair caught your eye in the crowd ahead. Relief flooded through you like a tidal wave as you hurried towards him. Hongjoong turned at the sound of your voice, his face breaking into a wide smile when he saw you approaching.

"Hey! There you are," he exclaimed over the music, reaching out to take you by your waist and pull you in closer.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension drain from your body. "I was looking everywhere for you," you admitted, relieved beyond words to have found him safe and sound.

He chuckled, his eyes bright with amusement and affection. "Sorry about that. Got caught up in the music." He leaned in and spoke softly in your ear.

You couldn't help but smile back, the rush of emotions settling into a warm glow of contentment. "It's okay," you replied. "I'm just glad I found you."

He took your hand again, and this time, he didn’t let go. You moved through the crowd together, finding a spot near the stage where you had a great view of the performance. The band was fantastic, and you quickly realized why Hongjoong was so proud of his friends. Together, you leaned into each other, enjoying the rest of the concert side by side. The music continued to pulse through the air, weaving a tapestry of melodies that seemed to resonate with the newfound closeness between you.

After the set, he led you backstage—an area littered with dirty towels, instruments, gear, and a few empty beer bottles—a grin spreading across his face as he introduced you to everyone. "Guys, this is the person I’ve been telling you about."

They greeted you warmly, but it wasn’t long before the teasing began. Jongho was the first to speak up, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, you’re the one who’s got Hongjoong all smitten?"

Mingi chuckled, nudging San. "Yeah, you don’t look like his usual type at all."

San nodded a playful smirk on his face. "Looks like our boy Hongjoong has developed a bit of a corruption kink, huh?"

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you glanced at Hongjoong, who was trying to suppress a laugh. "Guys, come on," he said, shaking his head. "Don’t scare them off."

Yeosang joined in, trying to make up for the others’ drunken comments. "We’re just surprised. You look so sweet and innocent compared to his usual taste."

You felt a mix of emotions—embarrassment, amusement, and a strange sort of pride. Despite the teasing, it was clear they cared about Hongjoong and were curious about you. Hongjoong wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

"Don’t mind them," he whispered in your ear. "They can be jerks when they’re drunk."

You smiled up at him, feeling more at ease. "It’s okay. I can handle it."

Wooyoung clapped his hands together, grinning. "Alright, enough teasing. Let’s get to the after-party!"

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, music, and good company. Hongjoong stayed by your side, making sure you felt included and comfortable. As the night drew to a close, you realized how much you enjoyed being a part of his world and seeing him in his element.

When it was time to leave, Hongjoong walked you to the front door, his arm wrapped protectively around you. "Thanks for coming tonight," he said softly.

You smiled, leaning into him. "I had a great time. I like your friends."

He chuckled. "Yeah, they’re a handful, but they’re the best." You stood there for a moment, the night air cool and crisp around you. You wanted to say something else, to question what his friends had said earlier, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Hongjoong drove you home, the hum of the engine and the cool night air doing little to ease the swirling thoughts in your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Hongjoong’s friends had said. The teasing comments replayed in your head, making you wonder if you really were out of place in his life.

When he pulled up in front of your apartment, you hesitated before speaking. "Hongjoong, would you mind coming inside for a bit?"

He looked at you, concern etched on his face. "Of course. Let’s go."

He parked his motorbike and followed you inside the apartment complex for the first time. You led him up to your apartment, feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation. As you opened the door and stepped inside, you suddenly felt self-conscious about the cute decor—soft pastel colors, plush cushions, and delicate trinkets that filled the space. It was a stark contrast to the edgy vibe Hongjoong and his friends exuded—the very reason you were feeling so self-conscious.

He took in the surroundings with a smile. "Your place is really nice. It suits you."

You blushed, fidgeting slightly. "Thanks. I just... I know it’s not exactly your style."

Hongjoong stepped closer, his expression was serious yet gentle. "This isn’t about what the guys said, right? I think it’s great. It’s you."

You looked down, feeling a little better but still needing answers. "Well... they made me feel… Am I not your type?"

He sighed, running a hand through his bleached hair. "They were just messing around. I’m sorry if they made you uncomfortable– it’s just that, they know me. They know how I was before you. In the past… I wasn’t always the nicest guy when it came to relationships."

You looked at him, curiosity and concern mixing in your gaze. "What do you mean?"

Hongjoong took a deep breath, looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. "I dated a lot, but I never really cared about anyone, I guess? It was all just fun and games to me.” He took a deep breath and looked at you with an overwhelming sense of worry. “But with you, it’s different. You’re different. I don’t want to mess this up."

You couldn’t help yourself, you had to ask. "Is that why you haven’t... you know... tried anything with me yet?"

He opened and closed his mouth again, unprepared for the question. "I just don’t want to scare you off. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not comfortable with."

“Why would you scare me off?” you asked.

Hongjoong’s face turned red, and he looked down at his feet, shuffling them awkwardly. His usual confident demeanor seemed to vanish, replaced by a shy vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat. The blush creeping up his neck and the way he bit his lower lip were both endearing and unexpected, revealing a side of him you hadn't seen before. The silence stretched between you, charged with unspoken emotions.

Hongjoong took a deep breath, finally lifting his gaze to meet yours. "I'm a bit more... adventurous in bed than most… God, I can’t even explain it." He groaned and shut his eyes tight.

You blinked, processing his words. The vulnerability in his eyes confessed secrets to you that you hadn’t seen before, a part of him he had kept hidden. "You mean, like... more adventurous how?"

He hesitated, clearly trying to find the right words. "I like trying new things, pushing boundaries… I have certain… kinks. I understand if that’s not what you want– I think that’s what the boys were getting at, that you just don’t… you don’t look like the type to enjoy that, which is completely fine and–"

You reached out, taking his hand in yours, and Hongjoong’s rambling quieted down. "I appreciate you being honest with me. I want to understand you better, and… I’m willing to try some things."

His eyes softened. "Are you sure? You’re not just saying that, right? Because if you don’t want to, it’s totally fine– the last thing I want to do is to make you uncomfortable."

You nodded, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I trust you… just go slow? Please?"

Hongjoong pulled you into a gentle hug, holding you close. "We’ll take it slow, I promise."

As you stood there in his arms, the worries and doubts from earlier began to fade away. Your arms wrapped around his torso, and you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head. From the way he was acting now, you couldn’t picture him being as rough as he seemed to be alluding to. Excitement bubbled up in your stomach, surprising yourself.

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your eyes meeting his. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. Hongjoong cupped your face gently with one hand, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. The warmth of his touch made your heart race.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat. "Yes."

He leaned in slowly, giving you a chance to back out if you wanted to. But you didn’t. You tilted your head up to meet him halfway, your lips finally touching his. The kiss started out tender and tentative as if he was afraid of breaking the moment. His lips were soft and warm, and you melted into him, feeling the world around you disappear.

As the kiss deepened, his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own. The passion between you grew, the kiss becoming more urgent and fervent. His other hand slid down to your waist, holding you tightly against him.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the kiss, the rest of the world fading away. All that mattered was the connection you felt with him, the electricity coursing through your veins. When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

Hongjoong's eyes were dark with desire, his voice a low murmur. "Should we... go to your bedroom?"

You nodded, your heart racing. "Please."

You took his hand, leading him down the hallway to your bedroom. Your heart was racing when you finally reached the door and opened it. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight streaming through the window, casting a gentle glow over the bed.

Hongjoong turned to face you, his expression tender yet intense. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

You smiled, placing your hands over his. "I'm sure."

He kissed you again, this time slower and more deliberate, savoring every moment. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you backed toward the bed. When the back of your legs hit the mattress, you sat down, bringing him with you—his knees on the bed.

Hongjoong's hands roamed over your body over the thin material of your blouse, exploring with a reverent touch. His fingers traced the curve of your spine, sending shivers through you. He kissed along your jawline, down your neck, his lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

You leaned back onto the bed, pulling him down with you. The softness of the sheets contrasted with the firmness of his body above you. Hongjoong reached his hand to the buttons of your blouse, which he hesitantly unbuttoned—his lips staying on yours. You helped him take off your clothes, leaving you in your underwear. He pulled away from you and paused for a moment, looking down at you with a mixture of affection and desire. The soft lace of your bra and panties practically called out to him, and he delicately traced it with his fingertips.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.

You felt too naked staring at his clothed body. Once he noticed your nervous stare, he pulled off his shirt and shuffled out of his pants. You could see the outline of his cock through his underwear, and you found yourself clenching around nothing at the sight. He smiled, then leaned down to capture your lips once more. The kiss deepened, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his touch, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his body against yours.

“Is it okay if I take this off?” he murmured against your lips, breathless, as he played with the hem of your bra. As soon as you nodded, he unclasped it and let it fall off your shoulders. His lips immediately met your delicate skin, pressing soft kisses before marking your most sensitive areas.

“Hongjoong–” Your breath hitched in your throat as his tongue swirled around your nipple.  

He paused, immediately looking at your face to make sure you were okay. When he saw your swollen lips and big eyes he smiled—unlike the sweet smile you’d seen so many times before, this time he almost looked wicked. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“Is it okay if I tie your hands up, baby?” he asked gently.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Tie my hands up?” 

“Yes.” He leaned back up and pressed a kiss to your jawline. “Against the headboard. I want to have you writhing underneath me.”

You nodded and whispered a yes when you saw Hongjoong’s stern gaze. While he picked his belt up from the floor, you moved over to the headboard. Without him saying a word, you put your hands up, putting your wrists near one of the railings of the headboard. You knew you had done the right thing when Hongjoong looked at you with a proud smile, and you pressed your legs together at the feeling it gave you.

“You’re so obedient,” he murmured as he went to tie your hands to the headboard. “It’s cute.”

Hongjoong carefully made handcuffs out of his belt and tied your wrists to the headboard. You couldn’t move your arms, but the belt was tied loosely enough for it to still be somewhat comfortable. He put two fingers between your wrist and the leather to make sure it wasn’t too tight. You could probably get yourself out, but you didn’t want to. Hongjoong stepped back to look at you, the wicked smile back on his lips. He got between your legs without another word, pressing his thumb against your clit over the soft material of your panties. You tried to close your legs, but he held them apart.

“Are you doing okay so far, baby?” he asked as he caressed your hips and looked at you with his familiar gentle eyes. You nodded. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“I’m okay,” you murmured.

“Good.” He looked back down at your cunt, noticing the wet patch growing on your underwear. “I’ll keep your hands tied until I’ve made you cum twice… don’t cum without my permission.”

It was clear that he had thought about this before, and the thought of him lying awake at night picturing you in such a lewd position made you throb with need. You’d never noticed this side of you—a depraved part that you had apparently been keeping under lock and key. Hongjoong just had the talent of luring it out of you. When he looked back up at you again, his eyes were ever so slightly softer.

“If you want me to stop, just tell me and I’ll stop immediately. No matter what. Okay, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” The title just came out of your mouth, you didn’t even process it.

Hongjoong didn’t say anything about it, but you could see in his eyes that he liked it—you did well. He laid down between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs to keep them open. Before you could say another word, he pressed his tongue flat over your clothed pussy. You gasped at the sudden warmth, your arms straining against the restraints. Hongjoong groaned at the taste, and you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head as he pressed his nose against your core. Your heart was beating a mile a minute; you’d never seen someone react to you this way. With soft motions—too soft—Hongjoong began rubbing your clit over your panties. It was too slow and you could barely feel anything, your hips desperately bucking up to get more friction. From the look on Hongjoong’s face, this was apparently the point. He wanted to break you, just a little before you got what you wanted. He studied your expression, the way your eyes shut tight and eyebrows furrowed whenever he pushed down a little harder. 

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?”

“Take them off,” you begged, “I want to feel you.”

It was all it took for him to rid you of your panties, and you dutifully lifted up your hips to help him. Only a few seconds later, his tongue was on your cunt again—lavishing in how wet you had gotten from just a bit of teasing. It didn’t take long for your orgasm to build up. Your moans grew louder, your legs started shaking, and you pulled more and more on your restraints. Hongjoong kept studying you, keeping his eyes open and focused while eating you out. He stopped before you reached the edge.

“Why?” you whined.

“I told you not to cum without my permission,” he stated, matter-of-fact.

You whined and wiggled your hips. Hongjoong pushed them down with one of his hands, the other one caressing your side soothingly. “As long as you do as I say, you’ll feel good, baby.”

You nodded pathetically— whimpering out another “yes, sir,” which had the same effect on him as it did before. It was all he needed to dive back into your core. His tongue expertly lapped at your pussy, his eyes now closed in pleasure. As his tongue started prodding at your hole, his tongue bumping against your clit, you started grinding on his face. It wasn’t like you meant to do it, it just felt too good. With a stern arm, Hongjoong held you down. You wanted to do something—anything—your orgasm was building up in your stomach once again and you needed to move. You wanted to push your legs together at the overwhelming feeling, pull his head closer to you by his hair, and keep grinding against him all at once. Hongjoong was restricting all of your movements.

“Please, let me cum!” you all but shouted.

“Do it.” Hongjoong’s demand was simple. A low growl that you barely heard over the sound of your own wet pussy, but it had you unraveling there and then.

The sound of you pulling on your restraints was drowned out by your own moans as the coil in your stomach snapped. Hongjoong moaned against your core, the vibrations making your legs shake. You heard yourself murmur a “thank you, sir,” as Hongjoong helped you come down from your high by letting you rub against his palm.

“You’re doing so good,” he praised. “Just one more before I free your hands, alright?”

You hummed. Hongjoong slapped the inside of your thigh, the stinging sensation made you gasp. You looked at him with wide eyes, only to be met with a grin.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you to use your words again, should I, baby?”

You shook your head, and then quickly added, “No, sir.” Hongjoong rubbed a soothing hand over the area where he had slapped you, and you melted into the touch. The feeling quickly disappeared, however, as his fingers reached for your core again. Your head became clouded as his fingers prodded at your entrance. Just one more, you repeated in your head. You wondered if he’d let you have his cock tonight—almost worried about it—and you let out a low whine. Hongjoong looked at you with concern.

“Are you going to… you know…” You looked at his arm, at the tattoos sneaking down to his hand which was still toying with your core. “Fuck me?”

Hongjoong’s hand faltered at your vulgar words, a smile broke out on his face. “Thought I’d save it for when you can touch me.”

There will be more? Your head was spinning at the thought. You were used to cumming once on your vibrator before going to sleep, too tired to go on by yourself. Cumming three times in a row wasn’t something you’d done in a while—if ever. If you had, you couldn’t remember.

“Tell me to stop if it’s too much,” he reminded you as his middle finger entered you.

After pumping the finger inside you for a while, he added another. He put his palm against your clit and let you grind against it while he kept thrusting his fingers into you—curling them against your g-spot, once he’d found it. While you were busy shutting your eyes tight at the stimulation, Hongjoong leaned up and captured one of your nipples in his mouth again. You gasped at the feeling—it was almost overwhelming. All of these sensations, and the promise of getting to have his cock inside you, were making you get closer and closer to the edge.

“Are you going to cum again, baby?” he coos at you, whispering in your ear, “I can feel you clenching around me.”

You let out a gasp that turned into a moan, as he started sucking on the sensitive spot right by your jaw. After managing to whimper out a confirmation, he ordered you to cum again. It was all you needed to release all over his hand. Your moans were drowned out by his lips on your again. His fingers slowed down, but he kept his hands between your legs until your movements stopped. Without another word, Hongjoong licked his fingers clean and helped you out of your restraints. As soon as you were free, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your head lay on his chest, and Hongjoong welcomed you into his embrace.

“Are you okay to keep going, baby?” he asked softly.

You were practically buzzing with anticipation. “Please.”

When Hongjoong asked if you had a condom, your heart dropped to your stomach. You hadn’t been sleeping with anyone for a while, of course, you didn’t have condoms anywhere.

“... no,” you muttered. “I’m on the pill. Are you clean?”

“Checked it a few months ago. I’m clean,” he murmured. 

You looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Then, please, just fuck me?”

How could he say no to you? He smiled, pressing an unfittingly chaste kiss on your lips. After he moved to sit by your legs again, he quickly manhandled you onto your hands and knees. Your fuzzy brain didn’t even have time to process what he was doing before it was done.

“But I can’t touch you like this!” you whined.

“Mm… I lied.” You could hear the grin in his voice. “Cum one more time and I’ll let you touch me. Just one more.”

You wanted to whine and complain, but the proud look on his face appeared in your mind. You wanted to please him, you couldn’t deny that. So, you shut your mouth and arch your back—pressing your ass against him. You can feel that he’s pulled off his underwear now, and you ached to see him. All of him. Your mouth all but watered at the thought.

“Please, fuck me,” you said again. “Please, sir.”

He groaned at the feeling of your wet pussy rubbing up against him, and quickly guided his cock to your entrance. He goes slowly at first, letting you get used to his size. However, you grow impatient and start moving yourself further down his cock. Hongjoong gripped your hips—his warm hands feel like they belong there—and stopped you from moving.

“I’m in charge here, sweetheart,” he reminded you. “Want me to go faster? Beg.”

“Please fuck me faster, sir, I want you to fill me up.” The words come pouring out of you without stop, you become a blubbering mess as he starts shallowly fucking into you at a faster pace. “Yes! Please, more! I need more!”

You can’t think of anything except how good he’s filling you up. You’re not sure you’ve ever lost yourself in someone this way—no one has ever taken control over you like this, fucked you like this, molded you to their body like this. He’s ruined everyone else for you, you’re sure of it. His hips slam against yours, filling you up completely. You open your mouth to thank him, but only a noise of surprise and pleasure comes out. Hongjoong’s hand had come down on your ass, leaving a stinging sensation on your skin.

“Again,” you whimper.

His hand comes down on you again, and you moan. You never knew you were into pain like this—but whatever he was doing, he was not allowed to stop. Hongjoong’s hips started moving against yours again, and his hand came down on you with every other thrust. You were a drooling mess. The makeup you had put on was running down your cheeks as you babbled out an endless sentence of thank you. 

“You’re mine,” he growled. “So good, taking whatever I give you—aren’t you such a good obedient slut?”

“Yes, sir! I’m your obedient slut!” you moaned out, your hands gripping the sheets. “Please, let me cum! Please, please, please…”

“Cum for me, cum all over my cock,” he demanded.

With a choked moan, the coil in your stomach exploded into a fiery pit—burning your skin until it made you see stars. Hongjoong pulled out and came on your back, groaning as he did. You collapsed on the bed, and you felt the bed tip to one side. He had gotten some tissues from the box on your nightstand and wiped off the cum from your back. You turned around to see him throwing the tissue to the side, holding your arms out to him. His chest pressed against yours as he embraced you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. The dominant Hongjoong was gone, you could tell from his soft kiss. There was still a craving lingering in you. Although you were tired, you started grinding against his still-hard cock. He put his hand on your hip, right by your tattoo.

“Baby, you’re too tired,” he murmured.

“You said I could touch you if I came again,” you whined.

Your brain was foggy, all you needed and wanted was for him to touch you—to fuck you slowly into your mattress. He smiled at your pout, before leaning in to kiss it away. You smiled back at him, and Hongjoong strangled a laugh at the sight of you.

“Just one more?” you asked.

He groaned as you reached down to guide his cock to your entrance again. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

“Okay.”

He started to slowly thrust into you again. Hissing at how sensitive you both were, you paused all movement as he had bottomed out in you. Hongjoong’s arms were on either side of your head, holding himself up to look at you. You reached out your finger and carefully traced the tattoos on his chest.

“You’re pretty,” you murmured.

It was dark in your room, but you swore you could see his face get red. Hongjoong didn’t respond, he only started moving slowly against you again. You let out small grunts and whimpers, your hands finding their place on his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

“You feel so good…” Hongjoong’s head fell to the crook of your neck, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to hold him there.

One of your hands found its way to his short hair, tangling your fingers into the mess. Your legs wrapped around his waist, desperate to keep him close. His body was warm, and you wanted to steal that warmth to keep it safe.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “So good to me…”

“Hongjoong.” You made him look at you again, his hips never stopped moving. His forehead leaned against yours as he stared deep into your eyes. “Cum inside me.”

He didn’t respond, but you knew he’d keep you to your word from the way that he kissed you. It was as if he was pouring his adoration into every move of his lips. One of his hands moved down to rub your clit, making your legs shake around him. With a grunt, he came inside you and you came soon after him. The two of you stayed in that position, chests heaving.

“You’re amazing,” you breathed out.

“I could say the same about you.” He grinned before pressing a kiss to your cheek and getting up. “I’ll get you cleaned up, stay here.”

He walked over to the door but hesitated as he realized that he didn’t know the layout of your apartment. “The bathroom’s to your left when you walk out of that door.” You giggled. 

He walked out with a sheepish smile, his ears red, and came back only a few seconds later with a warm, wet washcloth. Hongjoong wiped you off carefully as if he was wiping off porcelain. You reached your hand up to his head, trying to tame his wild hair by running your fingers through it.

“Does it look weird?” he asked without looking up at you, his focus was on your tattoo—he traced the lines of the lotus flower with his fingers.

“It’s just messy…” you hummed. “... maybe a little weird.” He looked away from your tattoo, and the two of you laughed as your eyes met. 

After cleaning you up and helping you to the bathroom, Hongjoong got you under the covers in your bed before he got in next to you. Lying together, you nestled against Hongjoong’s chest, his arms wrapped securely around you. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothed any lingering nerves, its gentle thump a comforting backdrop to the stillness of the night. He stroked your hair tenderly, his fingers moving in a slow, relaxing pattern that made your eyelids grow heavy with contentment.

“This feels nice,” you murmured, your voice thick with drowsiness.

He tightened his embrace slightly, resting his chin on top of your head. “It really does… I’m glad you invited me up.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes meeting his in the soft, dim light from the street lights and passing cars filtering through the curtains. The tenderness in his gaze made your heart swell. “Me too.”

He smiled softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Was it okay? You’re not overwhelmed or anything?”

“I’m fine, Hongjoong,” you murmured.

“I just want to make sure—”

“I know.” You smiled, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. “It’s sweet… but I’m okay… I liked it, actually.”

“Good.” He couldn’t hide his boyish grin. “Are you sure you haven’t done it before? You were too good for—”

You slapped his chest lightly, biting back your smile at his teasing. “Stop it.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He snickered, his laughter a low, pleasant rumble against your ear. “Seriously though, you were amazing.”

“So were you.” You sighed happily, snuggling closer. The warmth of his body and the security of his arms around you made you feel incredibly safe. As you lay there, you felt a profound sense of peace, the worries of the world melting away. Hongjoon’s hand found the lotus flower design on your hip again. Moving his body ever so slightly, he looked at the inked skin under the sheets, carefully studying his work. His fingers continued to trace the intricate design of your tattoo, the gentle touch sending shivers down your spine.

“It healed well,” he commented.

“It did.” You hummed, cupping his face in your hand to make him meet your eyes. His eyebrows raised and he looked at you with big eyes, silently asking if you were okay. You nodded and he smiled, leaning up to press a kiss on your swollen lips.

“I thought the design was pretty on its own.” He pressed a kiss on your cheek. “But it’s even prettier on you.”

“Smooth-talker.” You scoffed but smiled lovingly anyway.

He leaned his forehead against yours. “I’m just telling the truth,” he said with a playful smile. Hongjoong wrapped his arms around you again while you rolled your eyes.

“Goodnight,” you whispered.

“Goodnight, baby,” he replied, his voice a gentle murmur in the darkness.

The two of you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. His hand stayed on your hip.

You woke to the gentle caress of morning light streaming through your curtains. The first thing you noticed was Hongjoong lying beside you, his presence as comforting as the warmth of the sun on your skin. His hair, a tousled mess of soft blond strands, framed his peaceful face, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He looked so serene, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, completely at ease in his slumber.

As you lay there, your heart swelled with a sense of contentment, the kind that only comes from waking up next to someone you love. Carefully, you reached out, your fingers gently threading through his bleached hair, feeling its softness against your skin. He stirred slightly at your touch, his nose twitching in response, and a soft hum escaped his lips. Instinctively, he tightened his arms around you, pulling you closer as if even in his sleep, he couldn’t bear to be apart from you.

You watched him for a moment longer, memorizing the way the morning light kissed his features, casting delicate shadows on his skin. The peaceful expression on his face, the way his eyelashes brushed against his cheeks, the gentle curve of his lips—it all filled you with a warmth that radiated from deep within, spreading through every part of you.

Careful not to wake him, you slipped out of his embrace and out of bed. After putting on clothes, you padded to the kitchen to start breakfast. The sounds and smells of cooking soon filled the apartment, and just as you were finishing up, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

"Good morning," Hongjoong mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

You turned your head to look at him, his hair even more disheveled now. "Good morning. I hope you like your eggs scrambled."

He grinned, planting a kiss on your cheek. "I love them. Especially if you're the one making them."

The two of you moved around the kitchen in a cozy, intimate dance, making breakfast together. There was a comforting rhythm to it, an easy familiarity that made you feel like you’d been doing this for years. You chatted about small things, laughed at silly jokes, and stole kisses in between setting the table and making coffee.

Once everything was ready, you sat down to eat. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you felt a deep sense of contentment. After breakfast, Hongjoong insisted on helping you clean up, and soon it was time to get ready for work. As you gathered your things, he offered to drop you off, and you happily agreed.

When you arrived at the café, you saw Seonghwa already seated at a table near the window. He ate breakfast at the café from time to time, mostly when he missed you or when he didn’t have the energy to make breakfast at home. He glanced up and saw you through the big windows as you walked up to the café, a curious look in his eyes. 

Hongjoong walked you to the door, his hand lingering on the small of your back. "Have a good day at work," he said softly, leaning in for a quick kiss.

You blushed, aware of the eyes on you. "You too. Thanks for breakfast and everything."

As you stepped inside, Seonghwa immediately waved you over. "Hey, you look... different today. Did something happen?"

You shrugged, trying to keep your expression neutral but unable to hide the small smile playing on your lips. "Just had a good morning, that’s all."

Your coworker joined in, smirking. "Uh-huh, sure. And was that Hongjoong who just dropped you off?"

You felt your cheeks heat up again. "Maybe..."

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. "What did he do to make you glow like that this early in the morning, huh?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "... he may have spent the night after we saw the gig that his friends were playing. But I’m not saying anything else. You would’ve known if you had been there!"

“I was busy with work,” he whined. “You have to tell me!”

“I don’t remember putting that in our contract,” you joked. “Now, leave me alone! I have a shift to get to!”

With that, you slipped behind the counter, ready to start your shift. Despite the teasing and the curious glances, you couldn’t help but feel light and happy. The memory of the morning with Hongjoong stayed with you, a warm, comforting presence that made the day feel just a little bit brighter.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Over the next few weeks, you saw Hongjoong regularly. Your connection deepened with each meeting, but despite the growing intimacy between you, he never initiated anything sexual. It was both endearing and frustrating. You appreciated his respect for your boundaries, but it also made you shy and hesitant to make the first move.

One afternoon, while you were tidying up at the café, your phone buzzed with a message from Hongjoong.

Hey, can you stop by the shop after work? I have something I want to show you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the message. You quickly typed back, Sure! I get off at 5. See you then!

The rest of your shift passed in a blur of anticipation. As soon as the clock struck five, you grabbed your things and headed to his studio. The familiar walk seemed shorter than usual, your excitement propelling you forward.

When you arrived, the shop was quiet, a stark contrast to its usual buzz of activity. You stepped inside, greeted by the faint hum of a tattoo machine and the scent of ink and antiseptic. Hongjoong looked out from his tattoo room and smiled, his eyes lighting up when he saw you.

"Hey," he greeted, finishing up the last touches on his current project. "Just give me a minute, and I’ll be right with you."

You nodded, taking a seat and watching him work. His focus and skill never ceased to amaze you. There was something mesmerizing about the way he moved, his hands steady and precise.

After a few minutes, he finished and cleaned up, then came over to you. "Thanks for waiting. I’m really glad you could come by."

"No problem," you replied, your curiosity piqued. "So, what did you want to show me?"

Hongjoong grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Follow me."

He led you to a back room you hadn’t seen before. Inside was a collection of his artwork, framed and displayed on the walls. Sketches, paintings, and tattoo designs filled the space, each piece a testament to his talent and creativity.

"Wow, Hongjoong," you breathed, taking it all in. "This is incredible. I knew you worked a lot but, this…"

He scratched the back of his head, looking a bit sheepish. "Yeah, it’s kind of my personal gallery. I wanted to share it with you."

You turned to him, touched by the gesture. "Your work is amazing."

He stepped closer, his expression softening. "I wanted you to see this because... well, you’re important to me. And I want you to know me better, all sides of me."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached out, taking his hand. "Thank you for showing me this."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes locked onto yours. The moment stretched, filled with unspoken feelings and mutual understanding. You felt the urge to close the distance between you, but still, the hesitation lingered.

Sensing your uncertainty, Hongjoong smiled and pulled you into a warm embrace. You lost yourself in the domesticity of the moment, feeling content in his arms. "How was your day?" he murmured.

"Good," you replied, smiling up at him. "How about you?"

"Busy, but good," he said, pulling away from him. "Listen, I was wondering if you’re free for dinner tonight. I’d like to cook for you, as a thank you for the breakfast from a few weeks ago."

Your heart skipped a beat. The idea of Hongjoong cooking for you in an intimate setting set loose the butterflies in your stomach. "I’d love that."

He grinned. "Great! Let me just lock up, and we’ll head over to my place."

As he closed up the shop, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation. You assumed that inviting you over for dinner meant he might finally make a move, and the thought both thrilled and made you slightly nervous.

The ride to his apartment was a little longer than it had been to your place, and you started to understand why he had bought a motorbike instead of a car. While the cars were stuck slowly rolling forward during rush hour, Hongjoong easily passed them in between the lanes. When you arrived, he led you inside, and you took a moment to take in your surroundings. His place was cozy and stylish, with a mix of modern and vintage decor that reflected his artistic nature—most of it in black.

"Make yourself at home," he said, gesturing to the living room. "I’ll get started on dinner."

You settled onto the couch, watching him move around the kitchen with practiced ease. The aroma of garlic and herbs soon filled the air, and you felt that warm sense of domestic bliss wash over you yet again.

"Can I help with anything?" you offered, not wanting to just sit idly by.

He shook his head, smiling. "Nope, I’ve got it covered. Just relax and enjoy."

You chatted as he cooked, the conversation flowing effortlessly. It felt so natural, so right, to be there with him. Before long, he called you to the table, which he had set beautifully with candles and your favorite flowers.

"Dinner is served," he said with a flourish, placing a delicious-looking pasta dish in front of you.

You laughed, feeling a bit like you were in a romantic movie. "This looks amazing. Thank you, Hongjoong."

He walked back to the kitchen with a pleased smile on his face. "I’m glad you like it."

Hongjoong came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. You watched him with heart eyes as he opened the bottle, practically drooling over how his hands looked—and either he just didn’t notice, or he decided to ignore it, but he didn’t comment on your staring. He sat down in front of you and poured you a glass.

“You always call me ‘Hongjoong,’” he said.

“Hm?” You looked up at him from your glass of wine. “It’s your name.”

“I know, I know…” For the first time since you’d met him, he was getting shy. “I think it’d be nice if you started… I don’t know, forget about it.”

“What? Do you like pet names?” you asked with a hint of amusement in your voice. When you saw him nodding, your heart all but soared. You hadn’t expected someone like him to like cute, couple nicknames—maybe you should’ve guessed it from the number of times he called you sweetheart, baby, or love. “Like ‘baby?’ ‘Sweetie?’ ‘Pumpkin?’ ‘Sugar-cube?’”

“Now you’re just teasing me.” He groaned, but let out a laugh soon after. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” you admit with a giggle and start eating. “Could you pass me the salt, baby?”

Hongjoong’s grin grew wider, just at the cusp of letting out an adorable giggle, and he handed you the salt.

As you ate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was special. The food was delicious, the atmosphere perfect, and the company even better. Every now and then, your eyes would meet, and the unspoken connection between you seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment. Despite the pleasant ambiance, restlessness gnawed at you, making it difficult to focus on the meal. You twirled your fork absentmindedly, dropping subtle hints and playful comments, hoping Hongjoong would pick up on your mood.

He looked up from his plate, eyebrow quirked in amusement. "What's gotten into you tonight?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of teasing.

You chuckled nervously, trying to brush off his question. "Oh, nothing," you replied, avoiding his gaze as you took a sip of water.

Hongjoong leaned closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes—as if he was ready to get you back for teasing him before. "Come on," he urged, reaching across the table to gently touch your hand. "Tell me what you're up to. You're acting strange."

Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, and you struggled to maintain composure. Looking into his eyes, you found it hard to resist his playful charm. "Okay, fine," you finally admitted, your voice quieter than intended. "I've just been thinking... about us."

A flicker of concern crossed Hongjoong's face, and he squeezed your hand gently. "About us?" he prompted softly.

You nodded, feeling the weight of your confession. "Yeah," you began slowly, choosing your words carefully. "I miss... I miss how it felt when you touched me."

Hongjoong's expression softened, and he pulled his hand back, his thumb absently tracing circles on the tablecloth. "I miss that too," he admitted quietly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of longing and affection.

The honesty in his voice made your heart swell with warmth. "I didn't realize how much until tonight," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been trying to ignore it, but... I can't."

There was a moment of silence between you, filled only with the soft hum of traffic outside. Hongjoong broke the quiet, his voice low and sincere. "I'm glad you told me," he said softly, reaching across the table again to take your hand in his. "Because I've been feeling the same way… I just didn’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything."

“I want you,” you admitted in a small voice. 

After your quiet admission, Hongjoong's eyes softened, his grip on your hand tightening slightly in reassurance. He leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've been wanting to hear you say that for so long," he confessed, his eyes searching for any hesitation.

After your quiet admission, a warm flush spread through you as Hongjoong’s gaze deepened with a mixture of affection and desire. His hand squeezed yours one last time before he let go, leaning back in his chair with a soft, contemplative smile. You were left stunned—how much more clear did you have to be for him to touch you again?

However, as the meal continued, the air between you was charged with a newfound intensity. You could barely focus on the food, each glance exchanged with Hongjoong sending a shiver down your spine. The unspoken tension only grew as the minutes passed, and it became clear that the two of you were in sync, your thoughts mirroring each other’s.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Hongjoong put down his fork and began gathering the dishes. "I’ll take care of this," he said, his tone casual but his eyes betraying a smoldering undercurrent of emotion. He rose from the table, heading toward the kitchen with a stack of plates balanced effortlessly in his hands.

You watched him go, your heart pounding in your chest. Restlessness gnawed at you once more, and before you could overthink it, you found yourself rising from your seat, following him into the kitchen.

As you stepped through the doorway, you found Hongjoong standing at the sink, rinsing the dishes with deliberate care. The sound of running water filled the space, but it did little to drown out the thudding of your heart. You approached him quietly, the warmth of the dimly lit kitchen wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

Without a word, you slipped your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek against his back. He froze for a moment, the dish in his hand forgotten as he registered your touch. Slowly, he turned off the faucet and set the dish aside, his body relaxing into your embrace.

"Couldn't stay away, huh?" he teased gently, his voice laced with affection as he turned to face you, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You looked up at him, your arms still wrapped around his waist and shook your head. "Not for long," you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips.

Hongjoong’s eyes darkened with an intensity that made your breath hitch. He cupped your face in his hands, his touch firm yet tender. "You know, you’ve been driving me crazy all night," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Before you could respond, he dipped his head, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. It was a kiss that held all the unspoken longing, the unexpressed emotions that had been building between you throughout the evening. Your hands slid up his back, fingers tangling in his hair as you melted into him, the world around you fading away until there was nothing but the two of you.

Hongjoong deepened the kiss, his hands traveling from your face to your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. The heat between you was palpable, the kiss growing more urgent with every passing second.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as you pulled him closer. The cool surface of the counter was a stark contrast to the heat coursing through your veins, but it only heightened your awareness of every touch, every sensation.

Hongjoong’s hands roamed your body with a gentle urgency, one hand sliding up your back while the other cradled your neck, angling your head to deepen the kiss even further. His lips were relentless, moving from your mouth to your jaw, down to the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. You gasped softly, your fingers gripping his shirt as you arched into him, lost in the sensation of his lips against your skin.

"God, I’ve wanted this," he murmured against your neck, his voice rough with desire as he continued to press kisses along your collarbone. "You have no idea."

You pulled his face back up to yours, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. The tension that had been building between you all evening finally found its release, each kiss, each touch igniting a fire that burned hotter with every second.

Hongjoong’s hands slid beneath your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine as he explored your skin with a tenderness that only fueled your desire. Your breath came in shallow gasps as you clung to him, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

But then, just as the kiss had deepened, Hongjoong suddenly slowed, his lips lingering on yours with a gentler, almost reverent touch. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his forehead resting against yours. The air between you was thick, both of you breathing heavily as you took in the weight of what was happening.

His thumb gently caressed your cheek, his eyes searching yours with a mix of longing and tenderness. "I don’t want to rush this," he murmured softly. "I want it to be perfect."

You smiled softly, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his voice. "Me too," you whispered back, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. There was a pause, a shared moment of understanding, where the intensity of the moment gave way to something deeper, something more meaningful.

Hongjoong’s lips curved into a gentle smile as he kissed your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "How about we go somewhere more private?" he suggested, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand, the simple touch grounding you both in the gravity of the moment.

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief and excitement wash over you. "Okay," you agreed quietly, your heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and eagerness. The urgency was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but now it was tempered with the knowledge that this moment was about more than just passion—it was about connection.

You walked in comfortable silence, the weight of your shared confession hanging in the air like a promise. Reaching his bedroom, he opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, the familiar surroundings feeling suddenly new and charged with possibility. Hongjoong closed the door behind you, and you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his with a mix of uncertainty and desire.

He took a step closer, his hands gently cupping your face. "I want to make sure this is what you really want," he said softly, his gaze intense and sincere.

You nodded, your hands resting on his chest. "I've never been more sure," you replied, a teasing smile spreading on your lips. “Take me however you want, sir.”

With a newfound hunger, Hongjoong leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. It felt like he was pouring his energy into you, every touch feeling like an electric spark.

Hongjoong pulled back from the kiss, his breath warm against your lips. He searched your eyes, his expression earnest and caring. "Are you sure you’re okay with going further?" he asked softly, his voice filled with a mix of desire and concern.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, the anticipation building inside you. You nodded your voice barely a whisper. "Yes, I trust you."

A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. "Good," he murmured, his hands sliding down your arms to your waist, pulling you closer. "I promise I'll take care of you."

His lips captured yours again, this time with more urgency, his hands exploring your body. You melted into his embrace, the world outside disappearing as you focused entirely on the sensations he was awakening within you.

He gently pushed you onto the bed, his eyes dark with desire as he stood over you. "I want you to let go, to feel everything," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Can you do that for me?"

You nodded, your pulse quickening at the authority in his tone. "Yes," you breathed, your body aching for his touch.

Hongjoong's smile deepened, and he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Good girl," he whispered, his words sending a jolt through you. He took his time undressing you, his hands and mouth leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Every touch, every kiss was deliberate, heightening your anticipation.

It was only when you stood completely naked in front of him that he allowed himself to let go of you. He looked you up and down, and you felt the sudden urge to cover yourself—but when your hands reached up to cover your chest, he immediately took your wrists to keep them away.

“I told you before,” he murmured, “you’re beautiful. Don’t hide from me.”

You let out a shaky breath. “What are you going to do with me?”

“You’ll find out.”

He left your side and walked over to one of the closets. Inside the closet were no clothes. The drawers were filled with different toys—some things that you had never seen before—from dildos to restraints. Your jaw practically fell to the floor, and you could hear Hongjoong try to stifle a laugh.

“Do you still want to go further?” he asked, although it was clear that he knew he didn’t have to.

You could only nod, your eyes wide with suspense. 

“Sweetheart,” he warned.

“Yes.”

At one single word, you ended up on the bed with a blindfold on and your hands tied up behind you. Your knees were resting on the unsteady, plush mattress, and you were trying your hardest to stay upright. Despite not being able to see him, you knew that Hongjoong was still dressed—and it made your skin burn.

"You're doing so well," he murmured against your ear, his voice laced with both command and praise. The words sent shivers down your spine. 

Something soft, barely noticeable, tickled your chest. You heard Hongjoong laugh as you tried to squirm away. “Remember, baby, you can’t fall over. You promised me you wouldn’t. Liars get punished, you know?”

Gritting your teeth, you unsuccessfully tried to suppress another whine. You buried your knees into the mattress while Hongjoong kept teasing you, with what you could only assume was some sort of feather. The feather’s touch went from your clavicle to your chest, down your stomach, and to your spread thighs. 

Just as you started getting used to the feather’s touch, it disappeared from your skin. The bed tipped to your right, and you had to use every fiber in your being to not fall over. Hongjoong’s chest pressed against your shoulder, you could feel the soft fabric of his shirt. The urge to wrap your arms around his strong shoulders was irresistible. But no matter how much you pulled on the fuzzy handcuffs, they wouldn’t budge.

“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered in your ear.

“What is it?” you murmured.

“Patience…”

He moved around, and you could feel him right in front of you now. Pressing a few soft kisses to your clavicle, Hongjoong took his time loving you. The sweet kisses turned hungry when he began sucking and grazing his teeth against your skin. You soughed, leaning your head back and to the side to allow him more access. His lips disappeared and the bed dipped slightly to the side. Hongjoong had reached for something that he had put beside the bed earlier, and you were eagerly awaiting your surprise.

A burning sensation, like stepping under the shower before the water has heated up fully, pressed against your chest—the small point encapsulated by Hongjoong’s pillowy lips. A gasp escaped your lips, and you struggled against the restraints by mere intuition. Despite telling you to keep yourself upright, Hongjoong put his hands on your back to keep you still. The ice cube in his mouth ran over your warm skin, and he hummed as you let out a shaky moan.

“Baby, please.” You squirmed.

Hongjoong replied by humming again, but the ice cube stopped gliding over your skin. One of his hands fell on your jaw, guiding you to his lips. The piece of ice, now barely a slither, melted between your tongues as you kissed—a sense of euphoria that you never thought you’d experience.

Hongjoong pulled away, and your lips tried to chase him but he was no longer in front of you. Before you could register that he had climbed off the bed, you had fallen against the soft mattress—your ass up in the air, and your hands struggling on your back. You heard Hongjoong tsk beside you, and a harsh slap landed on your ass. His warm palm rubbed soothing circles over the stinging skin, but the message was clear; you had messed up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Your apologies fell on deaf ears as another slap hit your still-sensitive skin.

Hongjoong’s other hand went to your back, holding you in place. “Count ‘em.”

Another slap rang through your ears, and you couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. “Sir, I’m sorry–”

“I said.” Hongjoong’s fingers threaded through your hair, bending your head up until you could feel him breathing by your ear. “Count them.” His hand left your hair and went back to rubbing the burning skin of your ass. 

After managing to count to ten, Hongjoong’s fingers went from stroking your ass to rubbing your aching pussy. A soft mewl left your lips and you couldn’t help but to wriggle your hips. Your brain was fried at this point, and Hongjoong could tell. His hand disappeared from where you needed it most, although you had no time to complain about it. The handcuffs came undone, and your arms fell to your sides. He flipped you on your back, your aching thighs resting heavenly against the soft, cool sheets. Hongjoong got on top of you, pressing a few uncharacteristically soft kisses on your jaw and neck.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he murmured, barely audibly.

You could only nod your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck. After you pressed a kiss on his temple, Hongjoong pulled back with a lovesick grin. His face was flushed, his pupils dilated, and his hair a mess. He looked angelic.

“You can keep going,” you muttered. “I can take it.”

“Oh yeah?”

You used the little strength you had left to lean up and kiss his plump lips—soft and chaste, your lips just barely touching before you laid back down. “Yeah.”

His lips attached to your neck again with a new sense of passion and intensity. You let your eyes fall close as a hum bubbled up your throat, your hands spreading out on his back to keep him close. You gripped the fabric of his shirt tightly, trying to pull it up.

“Off,” was all you managed to get out. Despite wanting to keep teasing you, Hongjoong didn’t have the strength to do so. His shirt went over his head and flew somewhere else in the room, just like your clothes had earlier. His pants followed shortly after, and soon enough you finally got to feel his naked flesh against yours. 

Hongjoong’s hips were moving agonizingly slow against yours, but you had no voice to complain about it with—his lips wouldn’t leave yours. When your hand tried to go down your body to rub your clit, his hand was quick to pin your wrist to the bed.

“Let me take my time,” he murmured against your lips.

“You’ve been teasing me for so long,” you muttered back.

“You want control, baby?” he asked mockingly. Before you could say anything else, you found yourself on top of him. “Ride me. Take control.”

As soon as you tried to move your hips up, you realized just how tired your thighs were. A broken whine escaped your lips as you tried your best to set a pace. Hongjoong’s hands landed on your hips. He must’ve taken pity on you, as his hands started guiding you to follow a steady pace.

“That’s it, baby,” he hummed. “You’re doing so good.”

Your mouth fell open as you managed to pick up the pace—your climax quickly approaching. Hongjoong’s hips started to move to match your pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your moans growing in volume. Endless praise echoed from his lips, but they just barely met your ears. Only when he told you to cum could you really hear him.

When your climax finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, powerful and unstoppable, crashing over you and stealing the breath from your lungs. You cried out, your body arching as the sensation consumed you. Hongjoong help you through it, his arms a secure anchor in the storm of your release. His own climax followed, his body shuddering against yours, and in that moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you intertwined in a pure, unfiltered intimacy that left you both breathless and sated.

-

You and Hongjoong lay entwined in bed, your breaths mingling in the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp. The tender patterns his fingers traced on your skin whispered promises of comfort, a soothing contrast to the fiery intensity you shared just moments before. The warmth of his body against yours wrapped you in a cocoon of safety, easing the lingering heat of your passion, yet beneath his gentle caresses, a flicker of concern danced in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice barely a breath above the silence. "I didn't... go too far, did I?"

Turning to face him, you cupped his cheek, your hand cradling his face with a tender intimacy. His eyes searched yours, seeking any sign of unease or regret. "I'm more than okay," you whispered with a soft smile, your thumb brushing lightly over his cheekbone.

Hongjoong exhaled, releasing a breath he'd unknowingly held, his gaze softening, though the shadow of worry still lingered. "I just... I worry a lot," he admitted, a sheepish chuckle escaping his lips.

You shook your head gently, brushing your thumb across his lips, feeling the warmth of his breath, the softness of his touch. "I know, my love," you murmured. "I want you to feel just as safe and cherished with me."

His eyes closed briefly under your touch, relief washing over him in waves. When he opened them again, there was a new light, a quiet resolve in his gaze. "I do feel safe with you," he confessed, his voice steadier now, carrying the weight of sincerity.

Your smile deepened, warmth spreading through you. "Good," you replied, intertwining your fingers with his, feeling the steady rhythm of his pulse, a comforting reminder of your connection.

The air between you grew lighter, the weight of unspoken fears dissolving with each shared word. There was a clarity, a deep understanding that bound you both in that moment. Hongjoong took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with a look of profound connection.

"I... I love you," he murmured, the words tinged with both hesitation and certainty, hanging in the air like a fragile confession.

Your heart skipped a beat, overwhelmed by the depth of his emotions. "I love you too," you replied softly, your voice a tender echo of his confession.

Hongjoong’s arms tightened around you, his body molding to yours as though it had always been meant to be this way. You felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest, each breath syncing perfectly with yours, creating a harmonious symphony of togetherness. His hand stroked your back in slow, soothing circles, sending ripples of warmth through your soul.

The room was bathed in a soft, golden light, the bedside lamp casting delicate shadows that danced across the walls. The world outside faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of you in this intimate sanctuary. Hongjoong’s breath brushed against your forehead, his lips pressing a tender kiss there, sealing the moment with gentle affection. His fingers found yours, interlacing them with a loving squeeze. As you gazed into his eyes, you found them brimming with a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. Without breaking the gaze, he brought your knuckles to his lips. In that moment, clarity washed over you both—this was where you belonged.

feedback is always welcomed!

taglist:

@d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @niktwazny303, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy,

@hyneyedfiz, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang, @notevenheretbh1

[a-tiny-thing]

❝little bears and tiny stars❞ — c.jh (event).

PAIRING. choi jongho x afab!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers. kinda second chance. soulmate au. the boys playing cupid. alcohol consumption. the sfw parts are partially self indulgent. swearing. lots of mutual pining. idiots in love. jongho is an idiot (in the best of senses). mature talk (?). fluff. a bit of angst. soft sex. body worshiping. cunnilingus. unprotected sex (please don't!). pull out method. fingering. jongho is the sweetest (even too much). pet names (star for reader, bear for jongho). praises. pleasure dom! jongho. sub! reader. lots and lots of kisses. not proof read. (let me know if i forgot something).

SYNOPSIS. you were a sensitive topic, everyone knew. so when san brings your name to the table after years you and jongho drew apart, he knew something was up, he just didn't know how deep he'd dig himself once he spent time with you again. but then again, neither did you. maybe a second chance isn't just for a friendship like relationship.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. 16k (sorry).

NOTES. english is not my first language. this is for the secret santa event for @cromernet and this is specially for my sweet dear friend @yourlocaljonghoe , surprise! another jongho fic just how you like it made for me to you (sorry it's a bit longer than expected). idk if you suspected when we talked, i hope no hehe but i do hope you like it, i love you and i'm sorry for the delay, bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

“Yah! Choi San, c’mon it’s the time for the Choi Brothers’ song to make us all cry and start this damn karaoke night!” Wooyoung said loudly as soon as San entered the booth with a puzzled look and smile on his lips. “Why you like that?”

“San-ah, c’mon I already selected IU’s ‘Dear Name’, what are you—” Yunho stops watching San with the same curious look that Wooyoung was giving him. “What happened?”

“Jongho-ah!” San calls for his little brother who quickly turns to look at him puzzled, making San smirk a little. “What’s that friend of yours name? The one you were basically joined to the hip until like middle school when they switched schools and you two lost contact?”

Jongho froze for a moment. “Which friend are you talking about?”

“Oh, they were cute! Where are they now?” 

Mingi chimes in trying to see where San was heading, but his eyes were focused on Jongho, the smirk still there noticing how his little brother tried to downplay the whole thing. The others quickly started to notice San had valuable information, and bringing you into the conversation was not without a reason. Seonghwa was quick to join in the teasing.

“Oh I remember them! They were so cute, and how they got all shy when we joined both of them was so adorable,” the boys started to chuckle, some more obvious than others, watching Jongho trying to act as if the subject of you didn’t affect him one bit. “Makes me wonder though, have you truly lost contact with them?”

“Weren’t they like… your ultimate crush but you were too much of a chicken to say something?”

“No, remember, he was set on the fact they had a crush on San, not him.”

Yunho said back to Wooyoung and the guys all laughed at Jongho’s eye roll. “It’s not like that, they—”

“So you finally admit they liked you and you were too much of a chicken?”

Hongjoong chimed in, Yeosang followed after him.

“Are you going to deny you had a crush on them or are you still in denial that they had a crush on you?”

“You people are the worst,” he said, shaking his head before looking back at San, considerably annoyed. “Why are you even bringing them up? It’s been ages and —”

“I think they are here and that they recognized me while I was paying for our time in the karaoke,” San said simply with a small smirk. “I think it doesn’t take a genius to know they’d probably recognize you. I mean… if you still want to be friends with them, of course…”

“They won’t remember me,” Jongho’s words were quick, stern but the boys knew the youngest well enough to know there was a hint of hope in his words. “And how are you sure they remember you? Just because (y/n) had a crush on you—”

“(y/n)!” The boys all celebrated as Jongho said your name before San turned back to Jongho with a knowing smile. “Also, just because you think they had a crush on me, doesn’t mean they did… but let’s play your game, shall we?” The boys chuckled as Jongho kept rolling his eyes as San observed his younger brother. “If, like you said, they remember me because you assume I was their crush… why wouldn’t they remember you who was their best friend for years? Care to explain that logic?”

The other six all observed the exchange with smirks and curious glances. 

“Are we gonna do karaoke or not?” 

“Oh, right, I forgot I asked for a few things, do you mind picking it up with me bro? It will make it easier and faster… unless… you are scared to meet with your lovely crush— I mean… friend, (y/n).”

Jongho rolled his eyes once more at San’s comment and the others snickering. He was terrified of seeing you again after all these years. Would you still remember him? Would you say hello to him? Would you hug him? Would you ignore him? Would you act like you acted with San and kinda show you know each other even if from a distance? Would you—

“He’s a chicken, he won’t do it.”

“Shut up, Mingi. Let’s go and end this, hm?” He headed to the door opening up and looking back at San with the door open who still had a smirk and raised eyebrows. The boys knew how to push Jongho’s buttons, but when it involved you, San was the expert at it. “What you asked?” 

“A few bottles of soju and some snacks… why?” The older Choi said as both brothers headed to the eating area to get everything. San chuckled as he noticed Jongho looking around curiously while trying to remain unseen. “What are you gonna do when they recognize you?”

“Hm?”

“(y/n)... What are you gonna do when they recognize you?”

Jongho scoffed trying to downplay the situation. “Why are you so sure they’ll recognize me? It’s been years, San, it’s not like—”

“Oh, San, hello again,” how long has it been since he heard your voice? It didn’t matter, because the second he heard your voice, he knew he had ever forgotten, nor had his heart, “Jon–Jongho?”

Jongho felt San elbow his side, as the younger Choi raised his head meeting your gaze. He had to hold his jaw tight so it wouldn’t meet the floor. You were just as gorgeous as you were previously, only… more. Your smile widened as you recognized him, you had recognized him, right? He wasn’t imagining things, you—

“I see you got my suggestion…” San’s words woke Jongho up, he felt a stir in his stomach at his brother’s smile towards you, which you nodded with a shy smile of your own, one Jongho had seen many times when San was around. Did you still have a crush on San? “But that’s too little, where are your friends?”

“Oh, they had to leave, we had already used our paid time, and another group had booked the booth so yeah… and I was still hungry, so I decided to come and pick a few things before I leave and—”

“You are leaving?” Jongho said quickly, almost desperately. You looked at him confused and a bit surprised, while San held back a smile and a laugh at his younger brother’s reaction. “I—I mean, we—”

“Why don’t you come with us to our booth? We wouldn’t mind reconnecting with an old friend, if you have nothing better to do, that is.”

You pondered for a moment looking between San and Jongho who was trying to keep his cool after seeing you after all these years. 

“You sure it’s okay if I join in?”

“Yeah, we are still the same group as before, you remember the guys right?” San commented with a small smile, noticing how you noticed Jongho’s nervous behavior. “Look, everyone will be happy to have you around, like the old days when you’d always visit our house and we would all hang out, right?”

It was true, at least in a way. But it had been years now, and Jongho didn’t seem much of a fan of the thought. “Jongho… you okay with that?”

His mind went haywire. 

He never thought he’d hear you call his name ever again.

But here you were, looking at him with your worried eyes and all the feelings he thought he had long forgotten had returned full force.

“Wh-why would you think I’m not okay with that?”

San looked between the two of you with an amused smirk, watching what you would answer back. “Maybe because you are dead quiet and not even meeting my eyes?”

San’s chuckle — which he quickly disguised as a cough — woke Jongho up, at least in a way.

“I— Sorry, it’s just… I’m still processing seeing you after all these years. I didn’t mean to come off as rude or anything of sorts, it's just… It’s been a while…”

“I know, I told San the same thing when we met a few minutes back,” you saw Jongho look at San with a death stare making you chuckle a little noticing San planned this out. “I see… well, if the others don’t mind me joining in, I don’t mind it either so—”

“Good, Jongho will show you back to the booth while I take a few of the drinks and snacks and the employee helps me bring the rest.”

The look on Jongho’s eyes was confirmation that San had planned this all out. You didn’t truly believe San when he said they were all there, that he remembered you, or that Jongho was there and would be happy to see you. San was still the same guy as before, making ways for you and Jongho to always be close to each other, and you were positive that San realized you still harbored feelings for his younger brother from the small look he send your way as Jongho lead you back to the booth that the other six were too. 

As soon as you entered, the booth exploded with voices, each of the boys coming to you and hugging you. Jongho was quick to take your food and drink away so you could hug the other six guys as he took a seat in the corner observing everything while trying to calm his racing heart. You were even more beautiful than before, how was that even possible?

Your childhood features were almost gone, but you still held that same aura you always had. Kind, loving, sweet. Your smile was still the same, your eyes squinting as you laughed at something the boys had said, the way you hugged each and everyone, the way you looked at everyone as if they were the only people in the room, but it was when your eyes met his and you gave him his smile, the smiled that was reserved only to him, was when he realized he was fucked. Royally fucked. 

He had never gotten over you.

He had never forgotten you.

And here you were again, making his heart race at your mere presence.

As soon as the door opened and San entered with one of the employees, your shy demeanor came back and Jongho’s heart almost broke. It was the same reaction you always had around San. Did your crush on his older brother remain? You acted normal with the others, and yet with San… You acted all shy and cute…

Jongho knew San always got the most attention, the most girls, the best grades, he was just that good. But you always saw Jongho, he was never in San’s shadow… Until middle school, when you started to change around San, when his brother started to give you more attention. Of course he would, you had changed, you were getting prettier, you were catching people’s attention, of course his brother would see you.

He was never afraid of losing you to San, not until that time. 

It didn’t matter if San or the others said you didn’t see any of them like that. 

Jongho knew you thought they were handsome, he heard you deny other girls trying to get to San through you, why would you deny that if you weren’t interested in his brother? 

“You still have the same face and ticks when you are thinking you know?” Your voice brought Jongho back to the reality of the situation. They weren’t in middle school anymore, they were all in university, in a karaoke booth celebrating the end of midterms. His eyes met your soft smile as you took a seat beside him. “I told San not to do any of this, but… You know your brother he—”

“Will do whatever he wants—”

“Thinks it’s right,” you cut Jongho after he cutted you. You knew the Choi brothers had a good relationship, but you also knew Jongho hated being in San's shadow and hated how San was good at everything on a first try, how he could get away with pretty much everything. “Guess he’s not right about everything, then…”

The way your voice broke was the same sound of Jongho’s heart breaking. As you started to get up, he held your wrist, firmly but gently. “Sorry, I just… It’s been so long and… I hate how he—”

“Cornered you, I know,” you chuckle softly sitting back beside Jongho, smiling even more as you finally see a smile from him towards you. “I told him not to do it, but he also said you wouldn’t come out and talk to me on your own, but that you’d be happy to see me… So far only one of the things is not adding up…”

“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, it’s just…”

“It’s been too long, yes. And we both changed and maybe we did end things a bit rushed and lost contact when I had to move to live with my father after my parents divorced, but now I’m here, I’m back in the same city as you, a lot changed, I changed, you changed… but… when I realized we were in the same city, that you two were here and going to same university I was… I kinda wished to reconnect with you again. You were my best friend, bear.”

“Hey, don’t do that! That’s a low blow and you know it!” He chuckled as you shrugged with a smirk on your lips, making his heart melt a little. You were right, everything was different and maybe he was looking too much into things, maybe his inner child was stopping him from doing everything, scared of losing you again in more ways than one. “I’m sorry, okay? Can we start again?”

“Can you get up and give me a hug?”

Without a second thought he got up from his seat, you followed quickly behind and hugged him by the neck while his arms went around your waist pulling you flushed against him as he hid his face on the crook of your neck. God he missed this. It was like his heart was mending in a way he never thought it had been broken, just by being like this with you. 

“I missed you, my little star.”

He whispered back into your ear, making you smile and kiss his temple tenderly, “I missed you, my baby bear.”

The other seven were ‘secretly’ observing everything, while opening the snacks and drinks. San had a knowing smile on his lips as he observed your and Jongho’s interaction. He knew you two liked each other, he had found out you liked his little brother while surprising you one day, catching you writing yours and Jongho’s initials on a piece of paper, he was the only one that knew your secret. While with Jongho, he caught a song lyric his baby brother had written that had the nickname he used only with you, your name written down in a corner with a small heart and a date. 

San had always tried to make you two end up together, he knew you two belong together. Like two peas in a pod. He just had to make sure the two of you realized that.

“Why are girls so hard to figure out?” San whined as he, Jongho and Yeosang were walking in the music building.

“Are you saying that… you are having girl problems?” Yeosang laughed as he saw San roll his eyes, Jongho chimed in shaking his head. “What? She’s not giving you the attention you want?”

“She’s not fawning over you as if you were a Greek God like most girls?”

“Shut up you two!” Both boys were pushed by San, but he kept a small smile on his lips. As his eyes focused on Jongho once more, an idea formed in his mind. All the boys knew that you and Jongho had gotten considerably close, almost as close as you were when you two were younger, but there was still a barrier, that they were certain it was mostly on Jongho’s side. “You should help your brother, why don’t you ask (y/n) about it? How to catch a girl’s attention? I tried everything… I sent flowers, I sent her chocolate, I got a few things I heard she liked, and she keeps dismissing me and just thanking me and not properly talking to me…”

“Why you think (y/n) will know? Are they friends or something?”

“It would definitely help if they are… maybe you can even go on double dates,” Yeosang laughed as San looked amused by the idea while Jongho seemed to dread it. “That’s something I’d pay to see, it would be fun.”

“Say for yourself…”

“Yah! You should help your brother, not make my life difficult…”

“Because you help make my life easier?”

San nodded as if offended that Jongho would think like that. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past few weeks?” Yeosang kept quiet observing, he and the others promised San not to tell Jongho he was secretly trying to get his baby brother and you to see you belong together, and yet apparently nothing was working, specially on Jongho’s end. He would always make excuses. “You know… You should put yourself out there, I’m getting tired of your grumpy ass, I thought once you get close with (y/n) once more you’d be more yourself… Why you holding back so much?”

“San is right you know?” Yeosang chimed in as both saw Jongho rolling his eyes ready to protest San’s statement. “You two were best friends, but you barely talk to her, only when you two bump with each other, you make excuses not to see them, but when you two are together you are the happiest… What’s up with that?”

“I’m not avoiding them…”

“Keep lying to yourself,” San said, a bit annoyed that Jongho kept denying. “Crap, I have to go, promised Yunho I’d go by the choreography with him, see you guys later and Jongho… Get it together man, you missed them a lot, you finally have them back, don’t push them away from being a dick.”

“Yah! I’m not—” he didn’t have time to protest as San ran towards the dancing building, “not being a dick…”

“Yeah you are…,” Yeosang said plain and simple, making Jongho curse and look at the older friend annoyed. “Are you scared you’ll fall for them all over again?”

“...Maybe,” begrudgingly Jongho admitted, looking down to his feet as the two of them kept walking. Yeosang was his closest friend from the friend group, he could trust him, right? “They are just… It’s like nothing changed but so much has changed! And they got even prettier, it’s like torture to my heart whenever I’m with them. And then you and the others chime in and they become this shy thing that’s so adorable but also… Why are they becoming shy? You really want me to believe they don’t have a crush on any of you?”

“They don’t.” Yeosang said firmly, with such certainty that made Jongho stop and look at him a bit taken aback. “They don’t like us like that. They like us as friends, they get shy because we are not that close, because they don’t want to intrude, because they say we are your friends.”

“But with San—”

“San is a tease,” once again Yeosang cut Jongho, “he is a tease and he know how to push (y/n)’s buttons, but he just wants them to get comfortable, and for the two of you to stop being so stiffen with each other… He’s the one that knows them best after you, but they don’t like San, they never did. It doesn’t matter what you think or want to believe, they don’t like San, they never did…”

“So why do they always cut girls that come to them to get with San?”

“Wouldn’t you stop people wanting to get friendly with you to get with a friend?” Jongho thought for a second. “(y/n) is a shy and private person, they always were, they have few and close friends, and they know how San and you get annoyed by all the girls trying to get his attention, they value yours and his friendship more than anything… I know that because I saw them doing it and asked about it a few days back.”

“Okay, but—” Jongho is stopped by a ping on his phone, which he quickly picks up with a text from you. “They… texted me…”

“What do they want?”

you: hey, jjong! you on campus? if yes, which building?

jjong 🐻: yeah, i’m on campus. music building, why?

you: oh, you in class? sorry, forget it! 

jjong 🐻: no no no! you good! jjong 🐻: what do you need? i’m not in class.

you: it’s nothing important, i just forgot my water bottle in class. you: i can go search for it after i’m done at the library, i don’t wanna bother you.

“Go get their water bottle.”

“What? Why–”

“Jongho, they texted you to get a water bottle… that means they want you to get that bottle and bring it to them. Get. The. Water. Bottle.” Yeosang said quickly. “Stop overthinking, be you around them. They keep apologizing for disturbing you because you are avoiding them whenever you can. They are your best friend, get it together!”

“It’s not that simple, Yeo—”

“Because you still like them.” Jongho kept quiet, not denying it, but not confirming. “Do you want to lose them again?”

“The fuck? Of course not! I just got them back!”

“Then start acting like you actually want to be around them, because as of now you are losing them all over again, and this time will be totally your fault. Tell them you’ll get the water bottle and will bring it to the library, and start acting like their best friend. Things changed, yes, but they haven’t! Me and the guys have seen you two together, it’s like a damn time travel tunnel. So stop overthinking or you’ll lose them.”

Yeosang kept looking sternly to Jongho who sighed knowing his best friend was right.

“Sometimes I hate you.”

“Only when you know I’m right.”

Both laughed as Jongho typed back to you:

jjong 🐻: which room is it? is it that galaxy water bottle you’ve been obsessed with?

you: hey! don’t call me out for being obsessed about something! you: … but yes, it’s that one. you: class is 157 in block C of the Lit building, thank you, bear! 🤎

jjong 🐻: be there in a bit.  jjong 🐻: you at the library right? the one in the Lit building?

you: yeah, you’ll see me at the tables, i have this paper due to the end of the week.

jjong 🐻: got it, don’t worry, i’ll get your bottle. see you in a bit star 💛

A small smile formed on your lips as Jongho said he’d pick the water bottle and bring it back to you at the library, your heart racing momentarily at the thought of seeing him once more. The knowing smile on San’s lips and the other boys whenever you and Jongho were together kept popping in your mind, were you being obvious? San was the only one that knew about your crush, but now apparently all the other six knew it too… except Jongho. You didn’t know if you were grateful for it or not.

In all honesty, you thought he did considering how weird he’d act on occasion with you, even if he agreed to reconnect and being friends again, sometimes you thought he was avoiding you, so when he agreed to pick your water bottle you were more than happy, that meant he wasn’t fully avoiding you, right? The phone was put face down at the table as you shook your head trying to focus on the things you needed for your paper — that was pretty much done, luckily. 

“Hey, star,” Jongho’s voice woke you up after a while, your water bottle on his hands as a small smile appeared on his lips as he placed the bottle at the table. “Guess this belongs to you.”

"Oh, hey Jjong," You smiled softly at him, your eyes falling on your water bottle before going back to his face as you tried to keep your heart rate balanced. "Thank you for picking the bottle, I'm sorry if I troubled you, and I do owe you, you saved my day tomorrow from having to stay on the Lost & Found hoping to find it"

Jongho’s heart fluttered as he saw your smile. You were so effortlessly beautiful it was painful. Warmth spread across his chest as you thanked him, apologizing for disturbing him, making him realize Yeosang was probably right… He was being an ass and you were probably weary around him. He decided to push his worries away and act like himself around you regardless. He preferred having you smiling at him, close to him, allowing him to smell your perfume, to touch your skin, even if platonically then to lose you again. 

He never wanted to lose you.

Never again.

“No need to apologize, it was no trouble at all. I was in the Music building for a project, and the building is not that far away from the Lit one, and I could use a bit of cardio you know?” Both chuckled and he felt his chest flutter at the sound of your sweet laugh. He looked around noticing you were alone at the table as you stretched your hand to get the bottle. He pointed down to your notes, eyeing both notes and books spread around the table. “Are you… studying alone?”

You nodded, picking your water bottle. “Ah, yeah… My study partner had an emergency call in another project and bolted,” you chuckled softly before looking at your water bottle with a small pout. “Oh… maybe I should fill this up, forgot it’s pretty much empty…”

Jongho chuckled at your words glancing down at the water bottle, his gaze softening as he noticed your pout as he extended his hand grabbing the bottle back. “Don’t worry, I’ll fill it up for you.”

“You sure you don’t mind? You already had the trouble to bring it to me here… I don’t want to abuse your good will or anything,” you said genuinely worried although there was a hint of joke in your words. 

His heart skipped a bit, amused by your concern. You have always been sweet and considerate, worried about what everyone thought, wanting everyone to be comfortable, even if at your expense, which was something he noticed that never changed even after all these years. He waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head and grabbing the bottle back. “It’s not abuse, I don’t mind doing it at all. I’ll be right back.”

Jongho got to the water fountain quickly, filling the water bottle and watching the water fill it in a smooth stream. As he waited for it to fill, his mind was buzzing with thoughts. He was alone with you. You were studying alone, and he had an almost perfect opportunity to spend some more time with you. He had an almost perfect opportunity to just talk and spend time with you, like he’d been missing for such a long time. Finally, the water bottle filled, and he began to head back over to you, a little nervous but eager nonetheless.

Soon, he made it back to the table, bottle in hand, and sat down in the empty chair beside you, setting the refilled water bottle in front of you. “There you go, all refilled and good to go,” he said with a smile, hoping that you wouldn’t mind how he sat in the empty seat. A soft smile on his lips as he watched you, his eyes lingering on your lips for a moment.

"Thanks Jjong, guess you still are the gentleman I knew you were," you jokingly teased him, taking a sip of the water before reorganizing a few things to give him more space to stay there.

A small chuckle left his lips at your words, finding it slightly endearing that you’d joked with him. He smiled as you moved a few things around so that he had more room. It was almost like an invitation for him to stay longer, and he was certainly not going to turn it down. His smile grew wider at the thought that maybe you wanted him to stick around as much as he did. You were never to voice your wishes, it was always subtle, like moving your things to make space for someone.

A small streak of confidence hit him, pushing a bit of the overthinking away. His back hitting the back rest of the chair as he kept observing you going over the texts and notes. “So… what are you studying? Can I stay here and make you company or will I distract you?”

Distract, for sure, you said in your mind, as you turned smiling softly at Jongho, deciding to play it off. “Why? You planning on distracting me?”

Jongho felt a bit shy, but laughed it off shaking his head a little. “Okay, fair… But why you studying here? You liked studying in your room…”

“True, but… I’m living in the dorms, and it’s always so loud there, you know me and noises don’t go well together, so here is the second best place,” you shrugged looking back at the books’ spine to pick the information you needed to put on the bibliography of your paper. 

A small nod was given by Jongho, he knew you were easily distracted and annoyed by constant noises, he could barely hold a small nostalgic smile as his mind reminded him of all the times you two studied together during school. You were so distracted by your assignment that you barely noticed him leaning his chin on his hand as he observed you. Barely, being the key word, as you turned your head to the side trying to hide your tinted pink cheeks from his intense gaze. 

A small thought reaching Jongho’s mind at that memory, making him lazily pick a pen and twist it on his fingers, trying to act casual. “Don’t you get lonely studying alone? I remember you always liked to study together… Maybe we can pick up on that once more… If you want, of course.”

Your head tilted back to look at Jongho with a small smirk. “Are you offering to have your place as my study partner back, Choi Jongho?”

A light blush crept on Jongho’s face as you looked back at him with a small smirk. He chuckled lightly, heart racing as he kept the pen twirling on his fingers, even if it faltered a little, falling back at the table making him sheepishly scratch the back of his head and pretended it wasn’t him, when a lot of people looked over to see from where the sound came from. A muffled chuckle coming out from you, making him even more shy as he pondered how to best answer you.

“I mean… If you want me, I’d be happy to keep you company… you know… like we used to do in school…”

“And where would that happen? I’ve never seen you in the library before…”

He tilted his head a little. “That’s because I prefer my room, or the music room, for acoustics and all, you know.”

“Are you staying in a dorm too, or are you sharing a house with San and the others?” 

“Oh, no, we are all at the dorms, it’s easier, a house would be too expensive…” he scratched the back of his head once more pondering a question. “So… which dorm are you in?”

“Halazia dorm, you?”

His eyes widened, you were in the Halazia dorm? “Same, I-I mean… Halazia dorm,” he chuckled as your eyes also widened along with your mouth opening, surprised. “Ah… which floor are you on?”

“Seventh, you?”

“Which room?”

“1027…”

“1035,” he said quickly, smiling at you, realizing not only you two were in the same dorm, the same floor, but your doors were across each other. “Yeosang, San and Mingi are on this floor as well… If you ever hear any of the parties, it is definitely Mingi’s room, likely.”

You laughed at the thought, feeling nervous that you were living across from each other but never actually seen each other after all the time you’ve been in uni. “Well… that explains the amount of ‘walks of shame’ I see on that floor on a daily basis. Should I expect someone doing the ‘walk of shame’ from your bedroom too?”

“Why? Will you patronize me if it ever happens?”

You pretended to ponder for a bit, trying to hide the small pang on your chest at his words. Jongho was single, good looking, smart, with the voice of an angel, polite, respectful, a gentleman… Of course he’d have girls after him and bring some to his room, you couldn’t be mad at him for it. Even if your heart broke at the thought and image in your mind. “Why would I? You are an adult, single, good looking, you can have sex with whoever you want…”

“I mean… true, but I thought… I don’t know…” He turned sheepish as a thought came to his mind. “Should I wait for someone doing the ‘walk of shame’ out of your room?”

Your eyes widened a little, blush creeping on your cheeks as you avoided Jongho’s stare. 

“I… don’t really mess around, I prefer a serious thing over one night stand, so… not on my end.”

“Good,” he said before he could hold back, making you blush even more, a small smile appearing on his lips as he noticed the reaction he had on you. “I mean… Good because you know what you want, you know? And… I’m like that too, one night stands aren’t really my thing, I prefer a connection, someone I can be comfortable with, that will see me for me and stick around, you know?”

Your eyes met his, a secret shared between both stares but apparently the message could never reach each other. Even if both could see the care and longing in the other's eyes, the main sentiment was lost in the middle. Your stomach bursted with butterflies from the way Jongho was looking at you, while his confidence grew a little as he saw his words affected you. Maybe, just maybe… you saw him as more? Should he take a leap of faith?

“I–I should put these books back, it’s getting late…,” you said, picking your phone to check the time, seeing it was already early at night. Ignoring Jongho’s eyes while trying to calm your heart rate, you got up fixing the books.

Jongho noticed your reaction, biting his lip for a moment, disappointed for losing the eye contact he had with you. As he watched you rushly pick up the books, an idea popped in his head, making him quickly stand up beside you, stepping closer, his chest almost touching your shoulder. 

“Hey let me help you, it will be faster if I help you…,” swiftly, he took the books from the table, taking it in his arms, your hands brushing slightly against each other momentarily making a shiver run down his spine, his body still inches from yours as he glanced down at the books in his arms. “So… where are these supposed to go?”

“So… these are on those three shelves beside each other, c’mon,” you quickly motioned him to follow you, being careful so he wouldn't trip or hit his shoulder on the shelves. In swift motions you quickly placed all the books, leaving only two behind as you picked them and headed to a far end shelf. “These ones are around here…” 

Jongho was always close behind you, observing and caring for every edge of the shelf that you could possibly get hurt accidentally. As the last shelf came into place, you quickly tiptoed to place one book on an upper shelf, almost losing your balance. “Here, let me.”

Your skin burned under your shirt as you felt Jongho's hand on your back, before he took the book from your hand to place it at the spot you were trying to put, but his hand never left your body, moving from your back to your waist. Your head felt heavy and light at the same time, you could feel his perfume filling your lungs, you could feel his firm but gentle hand against your skin — even through the clothes.

As he looked back at you, you came back to your reality trying to find the spot for the last book on your hand, as you moved a little to place in a lower shelf, ignoring how the fact of Jongho's hand keep lingering on your body made you feel like you were on fire. “Okay, this is the last one, we should—,” you lost your balance as you turned quickly to head back to the tables, Jongho’s hands quickly going to your waits steadying you, your hand moved to his bicep, squeezing it lightly as you felt his hands squeezing your waist back. You two were close, closer than ever in a long time. “We— ah… We should go back to the dorms, it's getting late."

Cold, that's all you felt as you pushed yourself away from Jongho heading back to the table to get your things. As he saw you moving back to the table, he woke up from his epiphany, close behind you. “Yeah, you’re right it is getting late… we should head back…” He followed you close by, watching as you walked back to the table to gather your things and not forgetting the water bottle this time around, heading to open the door for you to exit the library, as he calmed his racing heart. 

“Jongho being a gentleman? What happened? Did the talk do something to you?” You joked walking past him with a light chuckle, watching as he closed the door, walking beside you bumping you with his shoulder with a smirk on his lips.

“Hey, I’m always a gentleman with you! Always been and always will be.”

“True… Your father always made sure you and San were raised to be gentlemen… Guess all the scolding paid off, since you two have girls fawning over the both of you all over university,” you tried your best to act nonchalant as you two kept walking, your eyes focused on the ground as a memory popped up in your mind, making you smile. “Remember what your father used to say: men are supposed to be warriors for the women who are their princesses." You smiled fondly. "Your house was the only place I felt like a princess, and beside you as well when we were younger…"

At your words, memories quickly flooded his own mind, of you being in his house, always pampered and protected by his parents, and even San when it was just the three of you playing in the house. His eyes darted to you with fondness as you remembered the times you went to his house, the soft smile on your lips, the nostalgic look in your eyes. He wanted to hug you so badly right now, he wished he had cherished that first hug you two have after seeing each other. His head hangs low with a small chuckle.

“Yeah, I remember dad saying that a lot… and I guess it kinda stuck with me, especially the princess part,” he admitted, taking a few steps closer to you before speaking once more. “You were always a princess in my eyes though… and I still think you are… forever my little princess, my little star.” For a moment your mind went blank. Did he really just tell you that? In that tone? Did he not have an idea of how much that affected you? Of course he didn't, you never told him and you threatened San if he ever told Jongho you liked him. A small smirk appeared on Jongho’s lips as he saw your bashful expression. His voice dropped an octave as he leaned closer to you, in a slight teasing way. “You know, you may not believe me when I say you are my forever princess, but I can tell you are getting flustered…”

“Shut up,” you pushed him away from you, but barely had an effect, but Jongho amused you still, going a bit away from you. “It’s not that I don't believe you, I'm just not used to compliments, you know that.”

“Okay, right, sorry,” he apologized quickly, deciding to take a risk and take your hand in his, halting your movements, making you eye him curiously. A simple smile was all he gave you before getting closer to you. Both doing their best to ignore the tension between you two, the electric charge that ran through your bodies, how right it felt to have your hands intertwined again. “Can I have a hug?” 

Your gaze softened as your heart tightened in your chest. If you thought too much you knew you'd find thousands of reasons not to do it. But it was your Jongho, your Jjong, your baby bear… And you couldn't say no to him, not when he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in this world. Without much thought you hugged him close, your arms around his shoulders, your lips on his shoulder as you cherished the feeling of Jongho's body against yours.

On the other hand, Jongho took a while to react, not really expecting you to hug him, but as soon as you pressed him against you, it was like muscle memory… His body relaxing in your embrace, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close to him as he buried his face against the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. Your shampoo was different, the perfume was too, but your real scent was still there, faintly mixed with the others, but his mind captured quickly. 

“I forgot how good your hugs feel…” 

“They are still yours to have,” you spoke softly against his shoulder, almost like a secret, feeling his arms tightening around your waist.

“I missed having them… I missed having you.” Jongho held you even tighter, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of your body against his, of having you in his arms after all these years, it was like time stopped for a moment, as if nothing had changed, all those years didn't pass by. If he tried really hard, he could probably hear your heart beat. “Have I… have I changed too much?”

“In what sense?” You pondered quietly while still hugging him. “Everyone changes Jjong, it is part of maturing… but if you are asking if I still see you as Jongho from when we were kids… I do still see him, even if masked by this man you've become.”

Jongho smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over him as he heard you say that you could still the old him, it meant a lot, considering how much he was pushing you away until now, until he realized he needed you close, he needed you as a best friend, he wanted you forever with him.

“I don't know… I think I was scared you think I did, considering how I've been acting, and the guys keep saying I changed through the years… I just wanted you to still like me? It's stupid I know—”

“It's not,” you cut him off, “it's not stupid, and yeah you've changed, everyone does, it's what's expected at least,” you chuckled once more cupping his face, caressing his cheeks softly. “It's not because you changed that I'll see you differently, I can see my little bear still there.” 

A smile formed on his lips, touched by your words. He knew he changed, and he was scared you wouldn't like him, the much he changed. He had grown more mature — if that was even possible —, he only let his playful side show with the people he trusted, his body changed too, he could now protect you, not that he couldn't before, but now he could do it properly. 

“I think you are one of the few people who know me for real, you know? How I can be shy and introverted, but still playful and—”

“Witty? Sarcastic? Annoying?”

“Hey!, don't pretend you don't like it when I annoy you.”

“Never said I didn't like it, I was just listing your traits, bear,” you laughed walking a bit away from him, but still holding his hand in yours. “Guess that's the childhood friend perk, right?”

Jongho chucked, nodding in agreement, squeezing your hand as he let you guide him through the streets. “Yeah… best friends from childhood perk.”

His gaze kept fixated on you, a mix of affection and contemplation as you kept walking until you saw a convenience store, reminding yourself you should get yourself a few things to eat. “Oh! Jjong, do you mind if we stop? I'm kinda hungry and also needing to buy a few things, it's gonna be quick I promise, but you can go back to the dorms too it's —”

“It's fine, we can buy something to eat, I could use a snack too, lead the way.” 

You smiled at his reassuring one as you headed to the store, letting go of his hand to push the door open and grab a basket to pick a few things. Jongho followed you close behind into the store, staying close by your side as you looked for a quick snack to grab. As you browse the store's food options, Jongho's gaze notices a few guys stealing glances at you, their eyes lingering on you for a bit too long, obviously checking you out. A hint of irritation builds on his stomach as he moves to cover you from their view, that you appear to have never even noticed.

But you did, you were used to it, you were a woman in a man's world, of course you’d be aware of your surroundings and of any guy or group of guys close by, you learned it was best to ignore them, so it came a little as a surprise when you notice Jongho gingerly move to your side, covering you from the view of that group, making your heart flutter a little, but unsure if he was aware or if you should address it, afraid you were looking too much into something that was not it. 

Jongho kept following you through the snack section, his eyes still flickering around the store, observing the guys that were checking you out. He could tell that you hadn't noticed the looks they were giving you, or were you purposefully ignoring them? Either way, he didn't like the way those guys were looking at you. It made him feel protective, and it stirred a possessiveness within him, the mere thought that those guys could approach you for any reason didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t tell you that, you just now became close again, he had no right to say anything… right? 

He stayed close to you, positioning himself slightly behind you, as if subtly shielding you from their gazes. As you continued to look for your snacks, Jongho kept an eye on the guys from afar. He could feel his annoyance growing as he watched them stare at you, their gazes almost undressing you with their eyes. He wanted to confront them, to tell them to back off and stop looking at you like that, but he held back, knowing that it wouldn't be a good idea to cause a scene here, and he knew you hated confrontation.

Instead, he took a small step closer to you, his body almost brushing against yours, as if he was subconsciously trying to claim you, to let those guys know that you were off limits, making you look at him curiously. A frown appeared on your face as you noticed his clenched jaw, how close he seemed, but still keeping a respectful distance, how he was mostly shielding you than anything else, the way he was alert to every little thing that wasn’t you. “You okay?”

Jongho quickly snapped out of his thoughts, realizing that you had noticed his closeness and his tense demeanor. He quickly relaxed his expression, forcing himself to act casually as he looked at you. "Yeah, I'm fine."

“You are lying,” you said simply observing him for a moment before grabbing a few more snacks. “Is it because of those guys?”

“Wait, you noticed them?” A simple nod was all you answered. “They have been staring at you since we entered the store, but you… kept acting normally and even came to this section… When did you notice them? Don’t their stares make you uncomfortable?”

“I noticed them when i entered this section, but I was already here, it would probably be suspicious if I moved afterwards. Plus, if I don’t acknowledge them, it’s pretty nill the chance they approach, and I’m with you…They probably think you are my boyfriend or something…”

You tried your best to act nonchalant, but you couldn’t help but wanting to see or hear Jongho’s reaction to you saying they thought he’d be your boyfriend. Would he freak out? Would he act the part? Would he keep acting naturally? Would he make sure he was just a friend? Would he try to play it off as a protective brother?

Jongho felt a pang of protectiveness hearing your nonchalant response. He didn't like the thought of you being used to men ogling you and being harassed. He wanted to tell you that you didn't have to just let it happen, that they should respect you more. In a streak of courage and wanting to comfort you somehow, he took the basket with one of his hands, as the other moved to hold the one that was previously holding the basket, looking at you tenderly. "I just… I don't like seeing them look at you like that. It… it makes me feel like I need to do something…"

"Like what? Fight them? It's pointless and will probably get you in trouble… and me saying something it's useless, men like that only respect other men…,” our words were quiet as you didn’t trust your own voice as you felt Jongho’s hand on yours, deciding to focus on getting the rest of the things you wanted, realizing he had no intend on letting go of your hand.

Not that you were complaining. 

But he knew you were right. Picking a fight with those guys would only cause unnecessary trouble, and he knew that saying something wouldn't make a difference. He just hated the feeling of helplessness, knowing that you had to put up with that kind of behavior. "So what, we just do nothing? We just ignore them staring at you like you're some piece of meat?"

You wanted to laugh, but you simply smiled at him. Your heart is warm and fuzzy in your chest as you hear his words. "You already did," you commented with a small smile looking at him, chuckling when he looked at you confused. "First, you moved to cover me from their gaze, you already did something… and secondly… you are holding my hand, I’m pretty sure no one would be stupid to try anything.” You smiled at him shyly before looking away once more picking a few more random chocolates, just because. 

"Oh... you noticed that, huh?" He chuckled nervously. "I didn't even realize I did it. I guess my protective instincts just kicked in automatically," he observed you once more, how you focused on things you wanted, how you kept holding his hand even after you basically called him out from doing so. That meant you didn’t mind it, right? “Are you… okay with me doing those things?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? You are my best friend… If I can’t hold your hand from time to time to feel safe, what’s the point?” Jongho was silent for a moment, you were best friends, right… Since childhood, you thought he was just being protective because of that, which was in parts true, except, best friends don’t usually have their whole body aching to touch the other person, or the fluttering in his chest, or the butterflies in his stomach, or— “I’m done, should we go, or you want something else, bear?”

 “Wha— Oh, no, I’m good, you sure you got everything you wanted?” Both your gazes fell on the half full basket, it was mostly sweets with a few salty snacks on the side. 

“I’m sure, let’s go, there’s no one in line,” you quickly smiled at him before turning and heading to the cashier. You noticed as she perked up as she noticed the two of you approaching, noticing how she looked at Jongho, and how her expression fell as she saw the intertwined hands. Was it bad that you were happy that her expression fell? Considering you and Jongho were best friends, probably you should feel bad, but you pushed that thought aside, especially as you felt his hand squeeze yours, holding it to his as you made to pull away. “I kinda need my hand to pay, you know?”

The sound of the cashier passing the items filled your ears, but it quickly turned muffled as you looked back at Jongho, finding him already staring at you with a small smile on his lips, his thumb doing a light caress on the back of your hand. “Let me treat you. Please.”

“You want to pay for my groceries?”

“Yeah,” you looked at him like he had grown two heads, making him chuckle and step closer to you. “C’mon it’s nothing major, it’s just groceries, but I wanna do something nice for you… Also because I’ve been a dick to you a while back, I wanna make it up to you.”

“Let him pay,” you opened your mouth to protest, only to have the cashier tell you with a small smile, looking between the two of you before turning to Jongho. “Paying for the groceries is not enough, if you wanna be a good boyfriend and made up for what you did wrong you have to take her on a date or not let her lift a finger for at least the same amount of days you treated her poorly, which considering what I’m seeing, wasn’t as bad as you made it sound.”

The two of you chuckled as Jongho looked between you and the cashier confused, did you two know each other?

“He didn’t do anything that badly, don’t worry, he’s safe… for now,” you jokingly say as the cashier nodded with a smile, the both of you laughing as you saw Jongho a bit startled. Your hand squeezed his lightly with a small smile, leaving the path open so he could pay. “I still think you’ve done more than enough, but I won’t complain if that gets me free snacks.”

Jongho laughed looking at you softly before shaking his head, picking his wallet from his back pocket, his hand still holding yours like his life depended on it. The look the cashier gave you as she saw Jongho pulling the card made you blush a little, as you noticed she genuinely thought you two were a couple, and Jongho had probably done something he felt bad for it. A small flutter in your chest made you look away with your cheeks burning. Why were you enjoying this so much? All of it… Jongho’s attention, his hand on yours, him protecting you, people thinking he was your boyfriend. 

“He’s a catch by the way, congrats on getting him,” she smiled at you knowingly as she handed you the groceries as Jongho put his wallet back in his pocket, swiftly moving to get the bags before you could get the heavier ones. 

“I’m the lucky one to have her, not the other way around, goodnight.”

You were a bit shocked as he simply said that and led you away from the convenience store, but you could see a small lingering smile on his lips as you two walked in silence for a bit, hands still intertwined as you two headed back to your dorm. 

“You don’t mind if she thought we were a couple?”

You finally built the courage to ask, but still couldn’t look at Jongho, but you felt his hand squeeze yours lighty.

“You didn’t look uncomfortable and… Technically you already said that those guys probably thought I was your boyfriend. I thought it wouldn’t cause any harm… Unless I made you uncomfortable, then —”

“No no!” You cut him quickly. “Sorry, no, I was actually scared it made you uncomfortable… I know how discreet you are and all…”

“I don’t mind, not when it’s you.”

Did he just say what he did?, that was what went over both your minds as you looked at each other, both a bit shy but still comfortable with each other. It was like the pieces were puzzling together, and it felt good. 

“Oh, the baby decided to join us for once,” Wooyoung quickly says as soon as he sees Jongho entering Mingi’s room door, rolling his eyes. “What? (y/n) is too busy to give you attention?”

“It’s not like that… She’s stressed, and I know better than to get on her bad side when she’s like that, I still need my ears for class and such,” he closed the door sitting beside Yunho on one of the puffs on Mingi’s room. “What we talking about?”

“Mingi was telling about this girl he was seeing and how he took her to the arcade to, and I quote, ‘show his skills in the claw machine’...”

“But you have no skill…” Jongho quickly added looking at Mingi accusatory, making all the others laugh as Mingi just brushed it off.

“You all misunderstood, my skills with the claw, were what my lovely fingers can do, and I even got her a plushie so she can remember me and how good I am, okay? So I got my goal, you can mock me all you want, I’m getting laid while you are just fisting your hand thinking about your best friend.”

A choir of ‘ooooooh’s filled the room as Jongho just shook his head unaffected by Mingi’s words. 

“Good things come for those who wait though…,” Yeosang chimed in with a half-warning tone to Mingi, as he exchanged a hi5 with Jongho.

“But Mingi did say something interesting—”

“Hey I always say something interesting, what you saying?”

San sighed ignoring Mingi, keeping his focus on Jongho. “You said (y/n) is stressed, didn’t you two were always at the arcade? What if you take them there? They can relieve stress, you two can get cozy—”

“They can see your skilled fingers…”

“MINGI!”

“What? IT WORKS OKAY?!”

“Anyways, I think it could work, it was something you two did constantly in middle school… just a thought baby brother.”

San raised his eyebrows to Jongho as he laid back resting his back on the wall behind him, with a small smirk to Jongho, who brushed it off, but already planning how to bring that subject with you, knowing it was definitely something that you liked and would help you relax, even if a little.

“C’mon star, just one!”

“Bear no! These things are a scam and you know it!” It didn’t matter your protests, Jongho still took your hand, leading you to the claw machines, his gummy smile was all it took for you to accept as he picked a coin putting you in front of it. “You are wasting your money, you know that right?”

“Money spent with you is never wasted, you know that, now go, pick a plushie,” your eyes wander through the machine trying to find an easy pick, setting your eyes in a bear plushie.

“That one, because it looks like you,” your smile grew as he rolled his eyes, “don’t give me that! You asked me to choose! I did, don’t give me that eye roll, you ass!”

“Right, right, my fault, you were only doing what I told you, true,” his gummy smile was back and you smiled back excitedly, even if you were certain you'd lose. “Okay, let’s go, I’ll put the coin, take your time!”

As soon as the coin entered, the machine lit it up, you quickly but steady — attempt of steady — moved the claw to where the bear plushie was, trying your best to place the claw on the right place to win the plushie. Surprise none as you got nothing, making you pout while Jongho laughed at your reaction. 

“I told you it was a waste of money…”

“C’mon once more, just one, if you don’t get we can go get something else, hm?”

You pondered looking between Jongho and the machine, the small smile on his lips already knowing the answer as you nodded, getting ready to get the plushie once more, trying to trace the best approach to get it. 

“You are an enabler of my bad behaviors.”

“I’m a believer in your abilities, it's different, now c’mon you’ll still be amazing if you don’t get that plushie,” his fingers quickly put the coin on the machine who lit up as you calmed down trying to get the plushie once more. As the claw grabbed part of the plushie, lifting, Jongho laughed wholeheartedly as you started to celebrate, only for your pout to get bigger as it fell just before reaching the deposit area. His arms quickly circled you, kissing your head in a comforting manner. “You did great, star, almost got the plushie!”

“But I wanted the plushie,” you kept pouting as you leaned on Jongho. “You try it! I already did the hard part, you can have two tries too, that’s fair, no?”

“You really want that plushie don’t you…?” You nodded with a small pout that turned into a smile as Jongho sighed. “Okay, two tries, but don’t expect much, okay?”

“If you don’t get me that plushie you’ll buy me a huge one,” he looked at you in disbelief. “A bit of playful threats is not bad, just a bit of pressure, you can handle it.” You laughed as he shook his head putting the coin on the machine, getting ready for his first try. Attentive eyes on the plushie and the claw, with a groan from Jongho and a small satisfied chuckle from you as he missed. “Not as easy, is it?”

“Oh, so this is payback? And here I was, being a good friend and getting my favorite person their plushie,” he pushed another coin in, not noticing how your eyes kept staring at him. You were his favorite person? Not favorite friend, but favorite person. That had to mean something right? Or were you just overthinking the way you two have been lately? Getting in too deep in how good you felt whenever you were with Jongho? What if— “YES! SUCK IT MACHINE!”

“You— you got the plushie…” your voice was barely a whisper as you saw the bear plushie coming out of the machine in Jongho’s hand as he handed it to you. 

“Of course I did, I’d always get you a bear plushie, but you wanted this one, so I did my best to get it… so here,” he handed you the plushie as you took it in your hand, bringing it close to you in your arms as you looked at him a bit disbelief. “If we ever have to be apart again, even for a bit, and you miss me… Just hug the plushie and imagine it’s me, okay?”

Your mouth formed a thin line as you nodded, moving to hug Jongho, the bear plushie between your bodies as he giggled at your reaction, but his arms enveloped you still, as you two remained like that for a moment, before you moved away, with a smile to Jongho as you recovered a little from him winning you the plushie and the feelings you were trying to fight.

“It needs a name though… and since it reminds me of you and you said I should hug it if I miss you… How about Jjongbear?”

“You are a Literature Major, shouldn’t you be more creative with names?” He teased, his gummy smile returning as you looked at him annoyed. “Sorry, I had to… But sure, it’s yours, you can name it however you want, star.”

“How am I still friends with you? The boys are right, you and Yeosang are the true savages of the group,” you shook your head faking being upset as you took the bear and lifted it to look at you. “Your father may not appreciate you, but I do, Jjongbear!”

“Father? What are you talking about?”

“Already trying to bolt on parenting, tsk tsk tsk, your father would be disappointed,” you turned around to keep walking through the arcade.

“Yah! What do you mean father? I’m not fathering a plushie with my name in it!”

“You sure it’s okay I tag along, Jjong?”

It was a rhetorical question, technically it would be very hard to bolt now that you were in the car with Jongho heading to Yunho’s cabin in the mountains for the weekend. 

“(y/n), me and the guys said it’s okay, should I play their audio telling me to bring you along again?” He chuckled at your nervousness, reaching for your hand on your thigh, squeezing your hand lightly as kept it there on your thigh. “Plus, it’s been a whole ass semester, you are part of the gang once more, you are even calling the boys out on their bullshit, we all like having you around, and I want you to come with, and enjoy it with us the end of finals.”

“I just sometimes feels like I’m barging in or something… I know we all know each other for ages, but I’m your best friend, and I’m a girl, and I feel like sometimes the guys hold back and—”

“Oh, no, they don’t hold back, they try to be respectful because otherwise I’ll beat their ass, and San, Yeosang, Hongjoong and Seonghwa also said they’d help, so you have three of the strongest guys on your side, but trust me, they are not holding back… Maybe Mingi is, but I doubt he will once we get there… When he drinks… well… you’ll see.”

You laughed at his words, looking at the highway before looking at your intertwined hands, the light caress of Jongho’s thumb on your hand a comfort reminder of his presence and care. “And where am I sleeping?”

“Oh, Yunho said his parents demanded you’d be in their room, saying that ‘you are not putting them to sleep with you boys, they can sleep in our bedroom, you eight are really loud when you want!’, so… you are the only one with an individual room.”

“Well… they aren’t wrong, the eight of you do get really loud, especially when drinking… God I don’t think I can forget when I went to Wooyoung’s room that one night and San was on the floor singing his lungs out, Wooyoung and Seonghwa were leaning on each other, Mingi and Hongjoong passed out in the corner Yeosang being the cutest and taking care of everyone along with you and Yunho, that were curiously the only ones standing… I still have questions, but I’m dreading the answers.”

Both of you laughed loudly at the memory of that day, his hand squeezed yours unconsciously as he focused back on the road. Suddenly, the rest of the trip to the cabin was about memory sharing, both from when you were kids and now in uni. Both feeling a sense of ease as the whole development of the situations happened, and again the feeling returned. 

The feeling of puzzles fitting together.

That everything was falling into its rightful place. 

That this was right.

“Yah! (y/n), help us out, I’m done being single, I want someone to hold and pamper…”

“Mingi, you are single because you are a manwhore,” he was gonna start to protest, but you beat him to it, “and no, you are not the only manwhore in this group, fear not.”

“Now you done it,” Jongho whispered to you as the guys started to protest, making you laugh loudly throwing your head back on the couch as Jongho took your empty shot glass to fill it once more for each of you. “Hey, they are not wrong! How many people have you guys slept with only this last semester?”

“For the record, I have my eyes on someone, she is the one that doesn’t want anything with me…,” San was quick to say with a pout.

“Of course she doesn’t, she has a girlfriend San, she doesn’t like dick!”

Your words silenced everyone, as everyone looked at San and you with shocked expressions. 

“I don’t mind third wheeling, if that’s the case…”

Everyone burst into laughter at San’s response, everyone taking their shot of soju, Jongho had just poured for everyone. Quickly starting a new conversation as you put your glass back, deciding it was it for you. You never liked drinking, and you had a feeling you kept going you might do something that will ruin things.

“You okay?” Like kissing the man that just whispered in your ear as you felt his arms going over your shoulder, almost cradling you. Your head quickly resting on his shoulder as the tiredness of the past few sleepless nights, stress of the tests and muscle ache from the trip started to hit you. “You wanna head upstairs and sleep?”

“Yah! This is low! I just said I hate being single and you two keep acting like a couple, just date already!” You froze for a moment at Mingi’s words, you noticed how Jongho also froze, but still didn’t move away from you.

“Mingi is right, it’s pretty obvious you two like each other, why don’t you just date?”

“Yunho, we’ve been friends since forever, of course we’d be more comfortable—”

“You two like each other, just admit it already!”

“San is done playing cupid,” the boys all laughed at Wooyoung’s comment that followed San’s grumpy statement. “I mean, it would be easier if there were arrows to make you two realize you like each other, that’s true…”

“And don’t try to deny it, the heart eyes are there, especially when you two think the other isn’t looking,” Hongjoong was quick to say, followed by Yeosang.

“Nah, they are doing it to each other now, they can’t help it anymore.”

“I—I need to pee…” You quickly left the living room, heading to your assigned room, not noticing how everyone looked confused, except for Jongho and Yeosang who were upset and annoyed, respectively.

“You guys had to? Truly?”

“What? Yeo you know they wouldn’t admit it—”

“What if you guys are looking too into it, Wooyoung? What if this ends the friendship I literally just got it back?”

“We are not looking too into it,” San said sternly looking at Jongho who looked at his older brother scoffing. “You wrote a song to them, and keep writing songs about them. And they used to write your names and initials on any paper they could, now they just keeps close if you need them, because they became smarter after I caught them doing that all those years back. So no, they never had a crush on me, it was always you.” 

“How you know I wrote a song to them?”

“That’s what you are focusing on? C’mon Jjong! You left your song notebook open one time when I went to your room to get something and I saw it, and you are not as subtle as you think when writing songs.”

“San is right, you are pretty obvious…”

“And they are pretty oblivious.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa chimed in again, taking another sip of their beer as all of them observed Jongho.

“And if you pay attention, the two of you already act like a couple, so why are you two so scared of acting on it? Everyone already thinks you two are dating… you should talk to them, after setting your head straight, but don’t take too long, the night is young but it’s from GenZ with bills to pay.”

The boys all kept quiet observing Jongho, who quietly got up taking a closed can of beer and took it outside, closing the door behind him as he went to sit on one of the rocks from a small path you and him had explored earlier when you two arrived before hitting the pool with the others. And it pained him to admit the others were right. You were acting like a couple. He cared for you like a boyfriend, his touch was thoughtful but possessive, he was protective, he hated seeing any guy try to hit on you or touching you too much, he hated when you said someone was attractive, or when you commented on something the guys were saying with hidden innuendos that you experienced something like that or similar before, making him question with whom. 

You held hands whenever you could. You hugged all the time for any reason. You were always close together if any of you needed the other. You two were practically living in each other's rooms if you are not in the library studying. Everyone already knew you two were a package deal. Where one went, the other would too. He knew his feelings for you were not platonic or friendly, they were romantic, hell he even had a wet dream about you more than once! But he wasn’t certain from your part. You pushed him to girls you thought he’d think are attractive, you’d indulge into flirting with other guys, even if you always returned to him, making him send those exact guys death stares that made them all run and hide. Were you playing him? Or were in denial like he was, but doing it differently? Pushing him away along with the romantic feelings?

He sighted looking up in the sky. He always loved to come into the mountains, the sky was always clear, so he could easily see the stars that always reminded him of you, back when you two were friends, when you grew apart and now that you reconnected. The starry sky was always his companion to think of you when he couldn’t be with you for whichever reason. He heard the sound of a door, looking towards the cabin, but no one was there, so you looked up, finding you in the balcony, fidgeting your fingers. You were nervous. Was it for the same reasons he was? Because you were seeing that you liked each other and were in denial, or was it because you realized you were acting like a couple when you only saw him as a friend?

His eyes kept darting to the night starry sky back to you, his only star, his northern star, the only direction his heart pointed at since forever. He doesn’t know how long he stood there, but it was enough for his bear to run warm in his hands and the wind blow cold against his skin. He had watched you for long enough to realize he couldn’t pretend anymore, he wanted you, not just as a friend, he wanted you as a partner, a life partner. 

If you didn’t want that, it was okay. He wanted you in his life, it didn't matter how. 

As he rushed to the house, he left his beer on the counter, ignoring the guys’ questions as he headed upstairs towards your room, knocking it loud enough so you could hear even if you were still on the balcony. It took what seemed like forever for footsteps to be heard and you opened the door, widening your eyes and holding back from closing it again as you looked down your feet.

“Hey, sorry, can you tell the guys I’m not coming down? That I’m ready for bed, or something?”

“Can we talk first?”

Your silence and avoidance of eye contact was enough to tell him you knew what this was about and it was unsure if you wanted to.

“Is this about what the guys said?”

He nodded quietly. “I think… It’s something we need to talk about, if it’s… so obvious to everyone but us… no?”

You knew he was right, and he knew you knew. It was just a matter of you wanting to face this now or later. After a few seconds, you took a step back, letting him inside your assigned room, closing the door as he passed, unsure of how to behave. Jongho simply extended his hand for you to take it, hoping the silent request would be accepted by you. 

A small smile formed as you took his hand, letting him guide you to the balcony, the two of you leaning against the fence, his hand still holding your, the light tender caress continuing soothing your fears and nerves without him even knowing. 

“Is there a reason we are on the balcony?” 

Your voice was quiet, scared even to break the silence and eventually the bubble to make the subject of you two come to light. Instead of looking at you, Jongho looked at the sky with a smile. 

“Starry nights remind me of you,” he said simply before looking back at you, your eyes were slightly scared, scared of what he may say, scared of what you two would become after this talk. “Even when we lost touch, I loved to go to places where I could see the stars, because it helped me think of you.”

“Jongho, what—”

“I’ve liked you since we were kids,” at your eyes widening, he let out a wholeheartedly chuckle, taking your hand on both of his hands, before continuing. “I never said anything because we were young and idiots, and for some reason I was so sure you had a crush on San, that made me livid whenever he spent time with us and I saw you get all why and blushing and—”

“Because he knew I liked you,” he stopped talking the second you cut him off. So San was telling the truth, which meant that… you probably still liked him too? “He…” You started looking away from Jongho embarrassed of the childish memory. “He caught me one day writing your name with hearts, or both our names close to each other… I usually did that when I had a lot on my mind, thinking of you calmed me…”

“So… you were shy and flustered with San… because he knew you liked me back then?”

“And he caught on fast that I… still like you now.”

The last part came out as a hushed tone. Both your heads were spiraling as your hearts were racing. You two liked each other back then, and still do now… that meant…

“Can I kiss you?” He blurted out, making you chuckle, being followed by him, with an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, sorry, I just… Is this as surreal to you as it is to me?”

You turned to him, biting your lip with a small nod. “I’m still stuck on the ‘I liked you since we were kids’ parts,” you laughed wholeheartedly as Jongho smiled, taking a step closer to you, testing the waters, testing if this was truly what you wanted, making you freeze for a moment. Your eyes almost automatically go to his lips before reaching his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, bear.”

“And neither do I, star… but… will you allow us to try… be more than we are now?”

At your silence and lingering gaze on his face, he tested reaching to you once more, which wasn’t badly received, especially as he felt your free hand on his arm, a silent invitation for him to continue. “Just don’t break my heart again.”

“I never intended on doing that, and I don’t plan on ever hurting you ever again,” he whispered as he leaned close, so close that you could feel each other's breaths against your faces. “I’ll ask again, and I’d like a direct answer… Can I, finally, feel your lips against mine?”

“Yes, please.”

Without a second to think, Jongho leaned in, his lips meeting yours hungrily but… tenderly? You could feel how much he wanted to savor you, but he also wanted to devour you. As his tongue asked for entrance, your hands moved to his shoulder and up his hair messing it up as you allowed him entrance, his hands quickly finding your waist and hip pulling your body close to him. It was like you were in purgatory, the delicious heaven of having his lips on your, but the burning sensation of wanting more. You gasped as you felt his cool finger trace the hem of your shirt, touching the warm skin underneath.

“Sorry, sorry, I just—”

“Bed, now,” you said against his lips pulling him back inside, his hand quickly moving to close the door that led to the balcony, your lips crashing once more. It was you were addicted, addicted to his lips, to his hands on you, to how every touch seemed to burn your skin in the most delicious way. His hands were strong, but cautious, touching just the right places to drive you insane as his lips met yours in a contained hunger.

“(y/n), I don’t want to push you—”

“Shut up,” you said against his lips once more, pushing him back to the bed, as soon a he fell on the bed, his hands were on your hip, playing with the hem of the shirt, tracing lazy burning patterns on your skin. “We are not making a mistake, are we?”

“No, this is not a mistake, unless you don’t want to…”

His tender and understandable eyes made you melt. How even in a situation like this, Jongho could still be the most respectful and caring guy you could ever meet, even when you could feel how much he wanted you, in the way he kissed you, touched you, how he devoured you with his eyes, but still keeping them with a hint of tenderness? How were you lucky to have a man like this fall for you?

“I want you Jongho, but I want all of you,” you moved to stand between his legs, your hands on his hair pushing it away from his face, who looked at you with such care and hunger that was mimic in his actions, on how his hands traveled your body, possessively but like committing every curve, every stretch, every gap to memory. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming…”

“You are not dreaming star,” his smile was almost calming to you, as you let a sigh of relief closing your eyes, gasping as you felt his lips on the exposed part of your shirt his fingers were playing with, a mischievous but cautious smile appeared on his lips, as his face hovered against your stomach. “Is this okay? I’m sorry, I just want you too, all of you… if you have me.”

Instead of answering with words, you moved to straddle Jongho, keeping eye contact as it felt like you were dreaming still. Dreaming his lips had been on yours, that his hands were touching your skin under your shirt, that his lips touched the skin of your stomach, that he was underneath you, looking at you with the mix of lust and love. As your weight settled on top of Jongho, he closed his eyes, controlling his reaction. 

There was so much he wanted to do to you, but he never wanted to make you uncomfortable, he was waiting for you cue, to anything that could tell what you wanted, he’d give you anything and everything. He was yours and you were his, and he was gonna make sure you felt loved with every piece of your body and soul. 

You leaned forward once more, your lips touching his, his hands tightening on your hips, grounding you on his lap, gasping against the kiss as you felt his half-hard cock underneath you. His lips moved to your jawline as you moved your hips against his bulge, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh as your nails sank on his shoulder, one of your hands moved to his hair once more. Your movements become less precise as you feel his lips and tongue on your neck. 

Tiny murmurs of ‘is this okay?’, ‘so perfect’, so pretty’, ‘been dreaming of this for so long’, along with your own gasps and silent moans as you kept your movements, feeling his getting harder underneath you as he worshiped your neck, his hands moving from your hip, to waist, to back and all over again, until he stopped your hips, taking his head away from your neck. Hooded eyes, swollen lips, you held back from kissing him, as you moved your hips instinctively having him groan and close his eyes with a small ‘fuck’ coming out of his mouth.

“(y/n), I’m controlling myself pretty well, and I’m pretty good at that, but I won’t be able to control much with you moving like that on top of me, with a bed right here with us… I don’t want to push you into—”

“What if I want to?” His eyes shot up, searching for any type of deception on your eyes, or hints that it wasn’t truly what you wanted. “We are not children anymore Jongho, we are not freshly teenagers. I know what I want, and I want you.”

“Fuck, don’t say things like that….”

“Why? You don’t think I know what I want?” You said cheekily, testing the waters as your finger traced his jaw and lips. “I want you to make me yours for real Jongho, because I’ve been yours for longer than I’d like to admit.”

“I’ve been yours since the first time we met, even when we were kids, I was yours, you were always it for me. You were always the person I compared to others, and God I searched for you everywhere when I lost you… And I’m scared that if I give in this easily you’ll vanish… I still can’t believe I have you back, I can’t believe I have you like this.”

You smiled genuinely leaning in and kissing Jongho, this time was calmer, full of passion but no desire but to show love for each other. You pushed your body forward, making Jongho fall on his back as you kept kissing him. “I’m yours Jongho, always been, always will be.”

In a swift movement Jongho moved you so he was on top, your legs quickly wrapping around his hips, your hands on his arms, one of his hands cupping your face, caressing your cheek. “Are you sure? Because I swear, you are making it impossible to—”

“I’m sure, please, Jjong.”

“Okay,” he said after a while with a small smirk on his lips as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “but we are doing my way, star.”

Before you could say anything, his lips found the spot under your ear, kissing it tenderly as his hands started to wander your body just lie before, committing every part to memory, like you are a marble, a painting, a book he wanted to undercover all its secrets. You gasped as his hands moved your shirt up, exposing until under your breasts, while his lips tasted every part of your neck and chest, he moved from the valley of your breasts to your midriff, keeping with the tender small lingering kisses on your skin, worshiping every little part you had of your body. 

While one of his hands kept your shirt up, the other swiftly pulled your sweats down a little so he slid his hand to your pants, pads of his fingers tracing slow eight figures on your clit over your panties, making you gasp. Instinctively your hands went to his hair, while the other held his arm that held your shirt over, moving it to expose your bra, which we quickly pushed to the side, mouth involving your breasts as his movements on your clit grew faster, making you squirm under him.

“Jongho, pl–please…”

“Your wish is my command, my love.”

His mouth met your neck once more, as his fingers pulled your panties to the side, his middle finger teasing your entrance. As you were about to complain, his index and middle fingers entered you, skillfully curling inside of you before leaving, only to enter again. You could go insane just by what he was doing. As your moans grew louder, he moved his mouth to yours, muffling your sounds as his fingers sped up, his thumb pressing your clit as his fingers curled inside of you. 

“Quiet (y/n), we don’t want the guys to come and take a peak.”

“Sorry, just— argh! So good, so so good, Jjong, God!”

His laugh against your neck made you shiver as he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine as your orgasm was denied, but before you protested, Jongho brought his fingers soaked on your juice to his lips, before smirking at you. “Can’t wait to taste you properly, clothes off, lay on the bed, head on the pillows and try to keep it down, I don’t want anyone interrupting us, or seeing how good I’ll make you feel, okay?”

“I like this side of you…”

He smirked as you two started to take your clothes off. “Good, because you’ll see more and more of it from now on.”

As you lay down on the bed, completely naked, you took a moment to appreciate Jongho’s naked form the same way he was doing to you. His toned muscles, his tanned skin, the hidden parts that only you were able to see, because he was yours and no one else’s. He slowly moved back to the bed positioning himself in front of your legs, his hard cock leaking as his hands touched your knees, gently spreading your legs, revealing your soaking cunt, a bit red from the mess his fingers did to you. 

Instead of digging for it, he teased you. His lips trailing kisses over your legs from your shoulder to the junction of your thigh and hip, repeating on the other side, before making himself comfortable on the bed, holding your thighs as he started to leave tender kisses on your labia, making you jolt your lips as they touched your sensitive clit, your hands going to his hair, as he started to lick your clit, leaving small kisses, before starting to make out with your cunt. The way you could feel his lips and tongue everywhere was driving you to the edge. 

He was eating you like no one ever had.

No, he wasn’t eating you out, he was making out with your cunt. 

Like he had all the time in the world. 

Because he had, he had all the time in the world to make you feel good. 

And God you tried your best to keep it down. 

Quiet, hushed moans, with few exceptions that made Jongho chuckle against your core, making your whole body reverberate with it. 

Your legs probably shook three times before he finally stopped kissing your cunt, the way your whole body was like pudding at that moment was insane, and yet, you wanted more. You wanted him inside. 

“Jongho, please, I need you inside…”

“Are you sure you can take it, (y/n)? I have a feeling I spent you too much already,” he hovered above you with a cocky smile as he pushed your hairs away from your face, caressing it tenderly, his eyes were sweet, cautiously, slightly worried if he was pushing your body’s limit already.

“I’m sure,” you nodded as your voice sounded breathlessly. It was true, you were spent, but in the best way possible, and your body ached for him. “I’m sure, Jjong, I can take it, please.”

“I don’t have a condom…”

“You can pull out, I’m on the pill, as long as you are clean, we are good.”

He couldn’t help but find your eagerness endearing. 

“I’ll be gentle, promise.”

And he was. 

His hands gently moved you around the way that would be the most comfortable for you, gently spreading your legs wider as he positioned his cock at your entrance. Looking at you once more to confirm, you nodded back. Jongho positioned himself before leaning into you, lips meeting in a gentle, sweet kiss as his cock slowly entered your hole. Your lips parted as you felt him fill you up, allowing Jongho to kiss your face and neck, as his hands wandered your body in a worshiping manner. 

As he finally entered you full, he gave you time to adjust, moving slowly, not fully pulling out, his hips moving slowly as one of his hands kept his weight out of you, the other exploring every part of your body, cupping your face, making you look at him, as his pace increased, observing every reaction you had so he could make sure not to push you too much, but just enough to make you feel good. 

His lips once more found yours as you both started to get more and more needy for each other, his movements getting faster, precise, as your nails scratched his back, your legs wrapped around his hips for a moment, making you almost scream for how good it felt. Your nails digging on his flesh made him groan as his movements became sloppier, allowing you to move to kiss his jawline and neck, hearing him curse speeding his movements. His head hid on the crook of your neck as he held you close. Your body was already easily shaking, but he tried his best to control your release while trying to reach his. 

You clenched around him more and more, moaning against his ear, ‘that’s it’, ‘fuck so good’, ‘don’t stop’, ‘fuck you are so tight’, a mix of words between you and Jongho as you hid your screamed moan on his shoulder finally hitting your high, he slowed down riding out your high, before detaching himself from you, pulling out and fisting his hand. The sight of your fucked out face, almost making him cum in sight, a few stroke after his cum was over your torso as both of you were spent in bed. 

“Stay put, I’ll be right back,” he said breathlessly to you, heading to the bathroom, grabbing a hand towel, wetting half to clean you up. As he was sure you were clean, minding the sore spots, he tossed the towel to the sink, as he moved to lay beside you. “You okay? Not too sore?”

“I’m fine, you were perfect,” you said leaning in kissing his lips, his hand finding your hip, pulling you closer to him as his other hand served as base for your head to rest. You quickly pulled the covers over the two of you, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm around you, caressing the skin of your arm feather-like, your legs tangling. Your free hand draws lazy patterns on his chest, before his free hand envelops yours bringing to his lips.

A small tender kiss on your knuckles. 

“I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you, Jongho.”

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[a-tiny-thing]

✗ blood in the clouds ✗ | KIM HONGJOONG

pairings ✃ mafia leader! hongjoong x flight attendant! fem! reader

genre ✃ mafia au, non-idol au, SLOW BURNN

synopsis ✃

it’s finally your last day as a flight attendant. you wanted nothing more than to laze on your couch and watch netflix - just to find out that one of your passengers blew out the brains of your pilot with a gun.

in which hongjoong to hijack a plane that his rival’s daughter is on.

w.c ✃ 10.5k (yes im a yapper im sorry)

c.w ✃ dark themes, vivid descriptions of gore, guns and knives, kiss scene but no smut, use of the nickname ‘brat’, ‘pretty’ and ONE TIME - ‘princess’, your dad’s a dick oops, vulgar language, reader is smart

author’s note: this is the first oneshot of my mafia series! yes it is long but i promise you that it does eat and that you’ll enjoy it. remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, any and all feedback helps!

not proofread!

masterlist

white clouds drifted by the airplane window as the sky turned from a soft blue to a deep orange.

it would’ve been a pretty sight if it weren’t for the gun to your head.

you’d called in sick or put in your two weeks notice earlier if this was how your last day of being a flight attendant would end - but apparently, life hates you too much to let you catch a break.

HOUR 1 OF 7 - TAKEOFF

‘god- i can’t take this anymore,’ you thought to yourself. you hated waiting, despised it actually. 

after today, no more jet lag, rushed goodbyes or missing celebrations. you can finally unpack that suitcase for good, find someplace quiet and actually live in it. the thought alone was enough to keep you excited, but something bothered you at the back of your mind.

this trip didn’t feel right.

it wasn’t the plane itself, but your passengers? only 2 showed up in a plane that could seat at least 50 people. 

not that you were complaining. fewer passengers meant less work - which was a good thing. 

but the uneasiness you felt kept rising in your chest, no matter the times you tried to push it down. 

‘just 6 more hours,’ you thought. ‘then this will all be behind me.’

HOUR 2 OF 7 - MEALTIME

meal service started like any other: boring. 

after handing out the trays, you pushed the trolley back to its place and returned with beverages. you plastered on your most professional smile as you walked over to your passengers. “would you like a drink?”

the man in sunglasses turned to you lazily, his eyes shifting from the trolley to your face. “what do you have?”

you sighed, quietly but deeply. you had that stupid list engraved into your mind by now. “water, coffee, tea, coke, spri-” 

“-do you have alcohol?” he cut you off. 

your eye twitched. this dickhead.

first of all, he interrupted you. and secondly, you didn’t mention the alcohol on purpose. it was stored at the back of the plane and you did not have the energy to drag it out. 

“uh hongjoong- i mean, boss-“ the guy next to him whispered hurriedly. “i don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“-i think it is,” hongjoong interrupted before turning back to you. “where’s the menu?”

you gave him a forced smile as you pushed the alcohol menu towards him. he took his time with it, flipping through the pages slowly before finally saying, “two shots of whiskey.”

“sure thing,” you snatched the menu back. with a swift turn, you fetched the whiskey and the glasses, returning back to his seat.

you poured and placed the two shots on his tray table. he took the glass and drank it in one go, setting it back down with a thud. 

hongjoong then turned his head towards you, eyebrows raised. “what?”

you blinked. ‘what’? just ‘what’? where's the ‘thank you’? 

you were losing your mind.

“nothing,” you muttered through clenched teeth, moving away before he could ask for anything else.

grade A asshole.

HOUR 4.5 OF 7 - POINT OF NO RETURN

the shitty in-flight wifi was a joke as always. why did you even try?

with an annoyed sigh, you shoved your phone into your back pocket when suddenly-

static.

its piercing sound followed by faint garbled voices on the intercom startled you. you frowned as the sound continued, getting louder and more distorted.

with a groan, you stood up, straightening your uniform. ‘what are they doing?’ you thought as you walked towards the cockpit.

but when you passed by the first-class cabin, you paused. the seats were empty. both passengers were gone. ‘weird…’

things only got weirder as you approached the unlocked cockpit door. 

concerned, you pushed it open.

the smell hit you first - a metallic tang that twisted your stomach.

then your eyes caught up.

blood splattered the walls and windows in chaotic streaks, dripping down to the controls and the carpeted floor. the pilot and co-pilot laid in a gruesome pile to the side, the jagged holes in their skulls grotesque. 

a guy sat at the controls, steering the plane as though he wasn’t surrounded by horrors. 

grade A asshole- no, hongjoong, sat cross-legged on the floor, his sunglasses shattered at his feet. a gun rested in his hand and his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you enter.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..” you breathed out. 

pieces of brain and organ matter clung to the control panel as a simple blinking green light above that indicated that everything was, somehow, still functioning.

hongjoong tilted his head, amused. the gun shifted to point at what you now noticed was the crumpled bodies  of your pilots, their faces mangled in unrecognisable masses of flesh and bone.

“these your friends?”

you shook your head as you stepped back, wiping your sweaty hands on your uniform. hongjoong seemed to enjoy your reaction, his grin widening into something sickening. 

he smirked. “don’t worry, i won’t spoil that pretty face of yours.”

you coughed at the wretched smell as the crimson-stained carpet squelched beneath your heels, your mind begging you to leave.

“well-” you said, turning to the door. “i’m sure you don’t need me here, i’ll just-”

an audible click cut you off.

you froze.

slowly, you turned back to see a gun aimed directly at you.

“leaving so soon?” he raised an eyebrow. “let’s talk.”

HOUR 5 OF 7 - SKYDIVING DOESN’T SEEM TOO BAD

hongjoong dragged you to the first-class section to ‘talk’. it was the first time you’ve ever sat there and to be completely honest, this was not how you imagined yourself ‘enjoying’ it.

well, not like it mattered. you had other issues - like handcuffs locking you to the chair.

he stood infront of you, one hand gripping the gun while the other held a file. “‘____’, am i right?” he asked. 

you nodded slowly. “..that’s me.”

“3.6 GPA in university..” he muttered. “flunked out of med school during your first year..”

..how the hell did he get that information?

“you ended up as a flight attendant because your father owns the airline.”

“..yeah,” you reluctantly admitted, your stomach churning. “uh- was the med school part necessary?”

hongjoong ignored you, flipping to the next page. you watched his eyebrows shoot up as his eyes narrowed. “how close are you with your father?”

you blinked, confused by the weird question. “i mean- he’s my dad,” you replied. “but i haven’t seen him in years.”

“hm,” the sound came from him. hongjoong studied you for a moment longer before he spoke again, but this time, his voice was cold.

“do you know what he’s been doing during those years?”

your brows furrowed. “no, i-”

“killing. my. men.”

you didn’t even have time to process his words because he leaned forward when he said them, the gun uncomfortably close to your face. 

you swallowed the lump in your throat. “...are you sure you have the right person?”

his smirk widened into something eerie. “i have a gun pointed to you, don’t i?”

your pulse quickened. you couldn’t decide which was worse: the possibility that he was telling the truth or the fact that he was clearly enjoying your reaction.

“i always wanted to get back at that pig..” he held the gun up to the bottom of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “and look at how kind the world is- blessing me with his daughter.”

you struggled to breathe, to think. the handcuffs dug into your wrist as you unconsciously tried to break out of them, a clink against the metal arm of the chair.

your voice trembled. “..what do you want from me?”

hongjoong didn’t answer immediately. instead, he leaned in even closer, so close that you could feel your foreheads touching.

“what i want,” he said slowly, eyes locked onto yours. “is for your dad to suffer.”

HOUR 6 OF 7 - SURPRISINGLY ALIVE

the stuffiness of the plane did little to calm your nerves. you sat quietly in the seat, staring at the shattered remains of your phone on the floor.

hongjoong snatched it from your hands a few minutes ago, grumbling about how ‘you don’t need devices’. great. just great. 

the sound of the cockpit door creaking open drew your attention. the other guy - or ‘pilot’, stepped out, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. “boss.”

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “what?”

the ‘pilot’ moved closer to hongjoong, lowering his voice. “air traffic control was notified of our path,” he said quietly. “they know something’s off about the plane, but i have no idea how.”

hongjoong’s eyes darkened as he processed the information. then, he glared at you, like he was accusing you.

you scoffed. “you shot my phone, how would i even contact anyone?”

for a moment, the two of you locked eyes and you swear that you could see him debating whether to believe you.

the ‘pilot’ cleared his throat. “what should we expect?” he asked nervously.

hongjoong leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “the police.”

HOUR 7 OF 7 - SHIT IS GETTING REAL

“what the hell…” you whispered to yourself as you peered out of the window.

SWAT teams and federal agents stood in rows, their weapons pointed directly at the plane. flashing lights of red and blue lit up the empty airport. 

you turned away from the window, watching hongjoong pull out a burner phone from his jacket. his fingers typed something out before he suddenly snapped the phone in half, tossing the remains on the floor. 

“…who are you?” you asked quietly.

he raised an eyebrow. “you don’t need to know, pretty.”

your survival instincts told you to move, to do something. but the second you tried to stand, hongjoong shoved you back down. 

“stay seated until we land,” he said before tilting his head. “isn’t that your job?”

you rolled your eyes, gripping the armrests as you tried to calm yourself down and steady your breathing. 

but that was when you heard it - gunshots. 

“they’re shooting us?” you panicked, flinching with each sound. 

no answer.

“hey-“ you tried again, but was cut off by the tires hitting the terrain. 

the landing was rough - harsher than anything you’ve experienced as a flight attendant. the plane rattled like never before.

your chest tightened when it rolled over something particularly large. “what was that?” your voice cracked. 

no answer. 

when the plane finally came to a halt, you barely had time to catch your breath when hongjoong moved. in a blink, he uncuffed you from the chair, only to secure the handcuffs on your wrists once more. 

he brought you to your feet, pulling you so close that you could feel his breath against your ear. “don’t do anything stupid,” he hissed. 

the cockpit door opened and the ‘pilot’ appeared. he quickly unlocked the emergency exit and you saw the makeshift ramp that had been attached to the side of the plane. 

a van rested just outside of it, hongjoong dragging you towards the vehicle. you descended the ramp, the cool air hitting your face as you looked around. 

but that was when you saw it. 

blood. 

on the wheels of the plane, the dark colour leaving a fresh trail on the ground.  

“did you..” you gulped, your voice barely above a whisper. “did you run over them?”

hongjoong glanced at you. “i didn’t,” he shrugged. “the plane did.”

you stopped in your tracks, your feet stuck rooted to the ground as you stared at him in horror. how could he say that like it was no big deal? just who was this man?

“move,” hongjoong ordered. but when you didn’t, he clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. “god- you’re such a brat.”

before you knew it, you were shoved into the back of the van. the ‘pilot’ closed the door with a loud slam and sat in the driver’s seat while hongjoong took the passenger’s seat up front. 

you met hongjoong���s eyes through the rearview mirror. his glare was sharp, acting as a warning to keep your mouth shut. you didn’t need to be told twice.

the van drove forward and you caught glimpses of city lights in the distance, slowly growing closer. civilisation - maybe you could get help. 

but against your mind’s wishes, you felt your eyelids getting heavy - and you did something that no one should ever do when they’re in a car with armed strangers.

you fell asleep.

HOUR 14 OF 7 - HIP HIP HOORAY YOU’RE NOT DEAD

you heard a voice whine. “why can’t we kill her?” 

“do you want boss to kill us?” you heard another reply.

your eyes fluttered open. your head felt heavy as the room came into focus, your stomach twisting. 

the space was dingy, poorly lit by a bulb hanging from the ceiling and an unnecessarily tall lamp on the ground. the walls were stained and the air stunk of blood.

you tried to move, only to feel tight ropes against your wrists and ankles. you were tied to a chair.

“i can’t believe we have to babysit the pig’s daughter,” a man with a knife groaned.

“calm down, wooyoung,” the other one sighed.

“calm down?!” wooyoung exclaimed. “yeosang got to fly a plane! how is that fair?”

“he has a license,” the second man rolled his eyes. 

“it’s still a plane, jongho-”

“shut up,” jongho interrupted. “the girl’s awake.”

both men turned their heads to look at you, the sudden attention sending a shiver down your spine. wooyoung’s grin stretched across his face as he got to his feet, jongho following behind.

“aw look who’s finally awake,” wooyoung approached, his voice childish. “you slept like a baby- and we didn’t even drug you!”

your heartbeat quickened as he leaned in close, his grin widening as he studied your face.

“i read your file,” he began. “you’re smart…” wooyoung paused, his eyes inspecting you and your ridiculous uniform. “and hot.”

your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to respond. “thank you-?”

“-what’s your favourite feature about yourself?” he asked, twirling the knife in his hands.

“uh-” your mind scrambled for an answer as he got nearer, the knife glinting. “i- my eyes?”

“your eyes,” wooyoung repeated, the grin stuck to his face. “good choice.”

he brought the knife closer, the cold steel trailing down the side of your face. you flinched as the blade hovered near your eye, your breath hitching.

“you’re going to answer all our questions,” he stated, almost in a sing-songy way. “and if you dont-”

he tilted the knife, now directly above your eyeball. “-i’ll dig those lovely pearls out of your sockets.”

your chest tightened, terror paralyzing you from head to toe. you couldn’t even breathe, every cell in your body pleading you to stay still.

“hey-” jongho tapped wooyoung on the shoulder, whispering. “uh.. boss said we can’t scratch her..”

“are you serious?” wooyoung scoffed. “then what’s the point?”

jongho bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding eye contact with his friend.

wooyoung groaned, throwing the knife to the ground with a strength that made it bend. “fuck this- torture isn’t even fun anymore.”

he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

silence was in the air until jongho cleared his throat awkwardly. he turned to face you. “uh..” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“change of plans.”

HOUR 15 OF 7 - DAY DRINKING IS FUN

you never imagined yourself in a hideout, drinking vodka with one of your captors - yet here you were. 

the whole thing felt absurd: a shaky barstool beneath you and a scuffed counter separating you and jongho. he poured you a shot he claimed was ‘very expensive’, before proceeding to chug most of the vodka from the bottle in a long gulp. 

your legs were untied now, though your wrists were still bound, the rope loose enough for your hands to rest infront of you. “what are we waiting for?” you asked. “hongjoong?”

jongho froze, his eyes snapping to yours. “don’t say his name,” he whisper-shouted.

you raised your tied wrists in apology. “okay.. what should i call him?”

“call him boss.. or mr kim.. or anything that isn’t his first name,” jongho said, his words rushed. 

you nodded slowly, looking at the man infront of you with mild concern. he looked even more scared than you did. 

then suddenly, the door slammed open. 

both you and jongho flinched, watching two figures stumble in. 

the first was a tall man - storming into the room. the second was him, hongjoong, clutching his side in pain.

“mingi- boss!” jongho panicked instantly as he ran to help the injured man. “holy- you’re hurt!”

“the pig called for backup,” mingi sighed heavily. 

you blinked, stunned as the sound of hongjoong coughing violently brought your attention back to the injured man. 

blood seeped through his fingers, staining his sleeves and skin. you don’t know what took over you, but you pushed yourself off of the barstool and rushed towards him. 

“what do you think you’re doing?” mingi stepped infront of hongjooong, his hand resting on his gun protectively. 

you glared at him. “do you want your boss to bleed out?”

mingi studied you. after what felt like ages, he exhaled sharply and stepped aside. “fine,” he muttered, keeping a hand on his weapon. 

you knelt next to hongjoong, trying to make him face you as you grabbed his arm. though, he snatched himself away from you quickly. 

you rolled your eyes. “i’m trying to help you. let me see it.”

hongjoong’s eyes pierced your soul. you could see the cogs in his head turning on whether he could trust you. 

a few moments passed before he finally faced you with a sigh, revealing a large gash on the side of his stomach - a wound created by knife. 

“i need water.” 

jongho blinked, clearly thrown off. “what?”

“to clean his wound..?” you explained. “get me water. now.”

jongho hesitated before snatching a bottle of water from a mini fridge. he pushed it to you, the little amount of liquid sloshing inside. “you should stay still for this,” you said before slowly pouring the water over the wound. 

crap- a gash this big needed a stitch. 

“untie me,” you said, holding your wrists up to your captors. 

jongho glanced at his boss worriedly for permission. hongjoong gave a small nod and jongho quickly pulled out a small knife to cut the rope. 

once free, you quickly looked around for something to stitch his wound with. when nothing looked remotely useful, your eyes dropped to your uniform - a skirt with a yarn trim. it wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

you began to unravel the yarn from the hem.

“what are you doing?” mingi asked, frowning.

“stitching him,” you sighed as your fingers worked hurriedly. “or do you want him to get an infection?”

hongjoong let out a groan, shifting uncomfortably. “just hurry.”

you finished unravelling it, but now you needed a needle. your hand instinctively reached up to your hair - pulling out a small bobby pin. it was definitely not as sharp as a needle, but you’re sure that hongjoong can handle his pain.

“shit- i need to sterilise this,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

“vodka,” jongho said instantly, grabbing the bottle and handing it to you.

you poured the small amount over the pin, letting it drip onto the floor. then, threading the yarn through the makeshift needle, you glanced at hongjoong.

“this will hurt,” you warned.

he looked at you with clenched teeth. “i don’t care.”

you placed a hand on his side to steady him, feeling the tension in his muscles as he tried to not flinch. carefully, you began to stitch the gash, each pull making him wince. 

when the stitching was complete, you tied the yarn and tore it off with your teeth - but the wound was still bleeding slightly.

you glanced down at your sleeves. without hesitation, you tore a strip of fabric free. you used it to dab away the excess blood, then folded the remaining fabric to wrap it around his side. 

“that should work. for now,” you sat back as you wiped your forehead with your arm.

“...you know how to treat people?” hongjoong asked, wincing slightly. 

you nodded slowly. “yeah.. i know the basics.”

“hm,” he tilted his head. “you’re more useful than i thought.”

you blinked. was a good thing or a bad thing?

“wooyoung,” he yelled out. 

a loud crash was heard in another room, followed by the muffled sounds of frantic movements. within seconds, wooyoung appeared in the doorway. 

“yes, boss?” wooyoung said out of breath, brushing off his shirt as he lookedaround the room. 

hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. instead, he looked you up and down, his lips twitching into what seemed like a smirk. “get her some actual clothes. we have an event to catch.”

HOUR 17 OF 7 - WORDS TALK BUT GUNS TALK LOUDER

“woah..” your eyes took in the building before you. glittering lights and an impressive exterior that was way more extravagant than anything you imagined hongjoong to be involved in.

he parked the car, the engine coming to a stop. before you could say anything, hongjoong stepped out of the car, closing the door shut. you scrambled to follow him, your heels clicking against the pavement as you caught up.

the two of you approached the man stationed at the door - a bouncer with a pen and clipboard.

without warning, hongjoong’s hand snaked around your waist, pulling you snugly against his side. you flinched at the sudden contact, but with how tight his grip was, there was no room for protests.

“ah, mr kim,” the bouncer greeted. “you made it.”

hongjoong offered a brief, fake smile before dropping it immediately. “let us in.”

“hold on now,” the bouncer said, flipping through the papers on the clipboard. “we can’t let her inside.”

hongjoong’s brows furrowed. “why?”

“new policy,” the man sighed, pretending to sound disappointed. “no more plus-ones.”

hongjoong rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. instead, he reached into his blazer, about to pull out a-

“nevermind!” the bouncer’s face turned pale. he stepped aside with a nervous laugh. “you’re all set- enjoy the night.”

the interior was breathtaking - chandeliers hung from high ceilings and round tables were scattered across the venue, draped in pristine white table cloths. 

“don’t eat or drink anything here.”

you blinked, nodding slowly at hongjoong’s words. “okay.. but why-”

“-and if you really want to stay alive,” he interrupted, his lips brushing your ear. “don't leave my sight.”

his voice sent a chill down your spine. “okay,” you mumbled as he brought you further into the room.

he led you to a seating area - though it looked more like a conversation pit, where an old man sat waiting. 

hongjoong released his grip on you to sit across the man, gesturing for you to follow. you hesitated briefly before settling next to him.

“mr kim,” the old man greeted gruffly. his eyes shifted to you, studying your face. “i see you brought someone.”

hongjoong gave a nod, glancing at you. “introduce yourself, brat.”

“oh uh-” you put out your hand reluctantly, forcing a polite smile. “i’m ‘____’.”

the old man’s eyes narrowed before they widened in realisation. “her father-“

“-i’m glad you noticed,” hongjoong cut in. he slowly reached into his blazer again, but this time, he actually pulled out his pistol. 

your eyes widened as he aimed it to your waist, the cold metal brushing your side. “wha-“

“w-what are you doing?” the old man’s face drained of colour, panic flashing in his eyes. 

hongjoong tilted his head. “let’s negotiate.”

“mr kim-“ the old man began, his voice cracking. “as his friend, you do understand that i have to tell him she’s here.”

“do it,” hongjoong shrugged, leaning back. his arm returned to your waist, pulling you to him as he tapped the gun against your side. 

“let’s see if he values his money more than his own daughter.”

HOUR 18 OF 7 - LIFE ISN’T FAIR

a loud crash echoed through the venue, making you jump. the sound of heavy footsteps grew violent with every second.

hongjoong’s hand tightened around your waist as he stood, dragging you up with him. “move.”

“wait-!” the old man called after you, but hongjoong didn’t stop.

his grip on you was firm, the barrel of his gun pressing against your stomach. you tripped over your feet, struggling to keep up his pace.

“where are you taking me?” you panicked as you glanced over your shoulder at the armed men closing in.

“to your father, princess,” he sneered, his voice mockingly sweet. 

“mr kim! stop right there!” 

you froze, whipping your head around. standing at the far end of the room, infront of a small army of armed men, was your father. 

“let go of my daughter,” your father ordered. he pointed a gun directly at hongjoong, his men following suit. 

your eyes glanced around the room - seeing guests cowering against the walls, some injured and others dead.

“i’m not giving up the brat until i get what i want,” hongjoong demanded.

“what you want is an impossible amount of money!” your father yelled, his grip on his gun tightening.

“impossible?” hongjoong’s eyes widened with craze. “you have more than $500 million tied to your name! did you think i’ll forget who you killed to get here?”

your blood ran cold. “dad.. you killed people?” you asked, your voice trembling as you looked at him.

for a split second, your father’s eyes softened, though that quickly disappeared with a scoff.

“if i didn’t, you wouldn’t have a roof over your head,” your father spat. “you were too stubborn to do anything after you dropped med school.”

the world seemed to tilt, your father’s words more piercing than any bullet. “but i didn’t-”

“-you did,” your father interrupted you. “i spent all that money bribing them just for you to fuck up.”

your heart sank as tears welled in your eyes. hongjoong noticed your reaction, his grip on the gun loosening slightly. 

“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t make my hostage cry,” he said. “do you really want those to be your last words to her?”

“shut up,” your father snarled, his finger close to the trigger. “i’ll say what i want. she’s too stupid to argue back anyway.”

the tears you held back spilled over and all you could hear was your dad shouting, “get her!”

HOUR 18.5 OF 7 - THEY WANT YOU SOO BAD

gunshots were heard in every direction, completely deafening. 

the pungent smell of gunpowder burned your nose as you stumbled, your legs barely holding you up. hongjoong shoved you to the ground, his hand against your back. 

“stay down,” he ordered you, raising his gun and firing without hesitation.

you flinched with every shot, watching in horror as armed men fell one by one with his aim. the world felt like it was spinning too fast and you could barely keep up.

suddenly, a hand grabbed your arm.

“stop moving!” your father yelled, his grip painful as he dragged you towards the exit.

“no!” you choked out, your heels digging into the floor in an attempt to resist. panic ran through your veins as your eyes darted around desperately.

your eyes landed on a fallen gun near your feet. you quickly snatched it, hands trembling as you tried to point it towards him.

“don’t make me do this!” you cried.

your father didn’t stop and without thinking-

-you pulled the trigger.

a bang was heard, followed by his rough scream as he collapsed to the floor, clutching his bleeding thigh.

“oh my god,” you whispered, the gun slipping from your hands as tears flowed uncontrollably down your cheeks. you sank to the floor, staring at the blood pouring out of him.

“you bitch!” he shouted in pain.

out of the corner of your eye, you caught hongjoong watching you, something strange flashing across his face. was that.. surprise? pride? maybe he was impressed?

hongjoong fired a shot at an armed man without looking, moving to you quickly. 

“didn’t think you had it in you, pretty,” he looked over his shoulder. “but we need to leave.”

he led you to a small janitor’s closet near the exit. the narrow space smelled of bleach, but at least it was quiet.

hongjoong shut the door behind you and dusted off his blazer. without a word, his dark eyes inspected you, checking your shoulders and arms.

you stood motionless, too shocked to stop him as he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb wiping away the mascara-stained tears from your cheeks.

“nothing broken,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “no scars either..”

he pulled out a burner phone, typing something quickly.

“i- i just shot my dad,” your shoulders shook as new tears welled up in your eyes.

hongjoong glanced up from the phone, meeting your eyes. “..are you bragging?” he asked bluntly.

“what? he’s my dad-”

“-and he’s a dick,” hongjoong cut you off. “you might share blood, but that man clearly hates you.”

you hiccuped, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “...am i going to hell?”

hongjoong scoffed. “come on-“ he began, but stopped himself when he looked at you and the tears spilling from your eyes. “you didn’t kill him… you’re fine.” 

you opened your mouth to protest but he silenced you as he continued typing. “and even if you did,” he added. “you’re doing the world a favour.”

he smashed the burner phone onto the ground, discarding the pieces. he reloaded his pistol before turning back to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he led you through bodies and debris.

outside, a black van waited by the curb. hongjoong pushed you inside before climbing in after you, slamming the door shut behind him.

“drive,” he ordered.

as the street lights went past you, you slumped in your seat, completely exhausted. “where are we going?” you asked softly.

hongjoong studied you for a moment, watching your eyelids go heavy. “...go to sleep, brat.”

DAY 2 - OH HONEY I'M HOME

you woke up with a jolt. you sat up from the couch you laid down on, completely disoriented. your eyes darted around the dimly lit room. the hideout. 

relief and fear spread within you. you were safe - for now.

just then, a knock from the doorway made you jump. “didn’t mean to scare you,” a man said, leaning against the frame. “boss wanted me to check on you.”

you blinked. “i- okay,” you coughed to clear your throat, wincing at how dry it felt.

“i’ll let him know you’re awake.”

and with that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone once more.

though that didn’t last long. moments later, hongjoong entered. he carried a stool over, setting it down across from you before sitting. 

“how long did i sleep?” you asked hoarsely.

“a day,” he replied with a shrug.

your eyes widened. it was only then you noticed your attire - a baggy t-shirt replacing the outfit you were wearing before.

“who changed me?” you blurted out, heat rising to your cheeks.

“i did,” hongjoong answered. he noticed your flustered expression, tilting his head. “what?”

“did you-” you cleared your throat. “did you see anything?”

“i’m not a pervert,” he scoffed. “if it makes you feel better, you were changed in the dark.”

you fell into an awkward, heavy silence as you sat across each other. for the first time, there was no danger, no gunfire or anyone yelling out orders. just silence.

“your dad..” hongjoong began, speaking up. “wants you dead.”

“...what?”

he held up a cassette tape, tossing it onto the table between you, your hands trembling as you picked it up. hongjoong then brought out a cassette tape player, allowing you to hear your father’s voice.

‘mr kim, we’ve had our ups and downs, but i’m sure that we can agree on one thing - that bitch who shot my thigh is a liability. an idiot that made it this far because of me. she’s no longer my responsibility or family, so expect to find her head on a stick when you turn your back. have fun.’

“what the fuck..” you whispered shakily as it came to an end. 

“to be honest, your only purpose was to be a hostage.” hongjoong’s fingers drummed the edge of the stool. “and now that he doesn’t want you.. you’re useless-”

the world around you crumbled, his words making you feel worse. 

“-to him.”

your eyes widened, looking at him in confusion.

“you’re smart,” he shrugged. “and you stitched me.”

you blinked. “…where are you going with this?” 

“i want you to be an addition to my team,” he replied.

“do i have to kill people?” you blurted out. “or steal, or-”

“no,” hongjoong raised a hand to cut you off. “all you’ll be doing is treating my injured men. quite the opposite of killing.”

you frowned, furrowing your eyebrows. “why would you trust me with that?”

“because,” he said, leaning forward. “you have nowhere else to go.”

“that’s not true-”

“really?” hongjoong smirked. “do you know how many businesses your dad owns?”

you shook your head.

“more than 80% in the country,” his eyes sparkled with something dark. “now that you’ve shot him, you’ve burnt every bridge he’s built for you.”

your jaw dropped. “but-”

“no job, no family, nowhere to live either since he owns most of the real estate here.”

you stared at him, struggling to process his words.

“here’s my offer,” hongjoong continued. “you get a decent amount of money, a place to live and protection...”

“...just to treat people?” you asked in disbelief.

he nodded. 

you bit your lip, staring at the floor as you picked at your nails. how could your dad do this to you? abandoning you just like that? and now he wanted you dead? you could feel yourself getting angry just thinking about him.

after a long moment, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. “deal.” 

MONTH 1 - FAMILY BONDING 

that evening, you sat on the floor with san, wooyoung and yeosang, eating a batch of cheap instant noodles. it was a little awkward - mostly because you just joined, but you were silently appreciating their efforts to make small talk with you. 

suddenly, a loud bang was heard through the hideout. the three men jumped up immediately, pulling guns and knives from who knows where. 

“back entrance?” wooyoung asked as he sharpened his knives. 

your heart raced as you watched the three of them shift into combat mode - and you caught yourself lagging behind. you hurriedly stood up and grabbed the medical kit you kept close. 

“stay here,” san said firmly. 

you shook your head. “if someone’s injured, i’m coming.”

the three of them shared a look before yeosang gave you a reluctant nod. “…just stay behind us. we’ll get in trouble if you get hurt.”

they moved swiftly and silently through the narrow halls of the hideout, weapons in hand. you trailed closely, your heart pounding as you gripped the medical kit tightly. 

when you reached the back entrance, san motioned you to stay back while they checked the door. 

the signs of forced entry were obvious - the lock was broken and scuff marks lined the floor. 

wooyoung scoffed, speaking under his breath. “stupid piglets.”

yeosang sighed. “looks like they took a few weapons and left.”

“are they testing us?” san asked, inspecting a footprint on the ground. 

before anyone could respond, the door slammed open making all of you jump. you turned to see mingi, his chest heaving as he leaned against the door frame. 

“meeting. now.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the hideout’s ‘meeting room’ was more of a cramped closet with mismatched chairs and a comically large table in the middle. hongjoong paced at the end of the room, his jaw clenched. 

“we can’t stay here any longer,” he began. “it’s only a matter of time before they come back in full force.”

hongjoong stopped pacing and crossed his arms. “we need to move back to our old apartments. they’re scattered enough to keep us hidden until we figure out our next move.”

you shifted uncomfortably. 

hongjoong noticed this. “what?” he asked, his sharp eyes landing on you. 

“i uh-“ you hesitated. “i don’t have a home..” you said sheepishly. 

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. 

“my dad owns the house,” you admitted. “and that’s not really an option anymore.”

“right,” hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “shit..”

“alright, who has space?” he clapped, glancing around the room. 

everyone exchanged uneasy looks. 

“we don’t,” yeosang said, gesturing to himself, san, wooyoung and jongho. “the four of us are already crammed into one place.”

“same here,” yunho spoke up. “mingi and i barely fit in ours.”

hongjoong turned to seonghwa, his face hopeful. 

“no,” seonghwa said without hesitation. 

a heavy sigh escaped hongjoong as he pinched the bridge of his nose. he leaned against the table, deep in thought. 

minutes stretched into what felt like hours before hongjoong finally spoke up. “you’re coming with me,” he said, looking directly at you. 

your eyes widened in surprise. “..what?”

“you’re staying at my place.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the car sped down the (somewhat) empty highway, the faint smell of vanilla from the air freshener mixing with the lingering scent of old fast food. 

you gripped the edge of your seat as the streetlights ran by the window in a blur. “are we in a rush?” you nervously glanced at hongjoong. 

“no,” he replied flatly. 

there was a black car beside you that had been keeping pace for the past few minutes - and just as you shifted in your seat, it suddenly swerved infront of your car and slammed the brakes. 

“what the-” you barely managed to say before the impact. the car jolted violently as it hit the one ahead, the sound of metal crunching loud. 

hongjoong let out a low string of curses under his breath. his face was weirdly calm as he unbuckled his seatbelt, stepping out of the car without a word. 

“wait-” you scrambled to undo your own seatbelt. 

from your seat, you saw him approaching the car. the moment he glanced inside, his eyes widened. he reached for his gun and pulled the trigger instantly. 

the loud gunshot made you flinch and your stomach twisted as you saw the slumped figure in the driver’s seat, blood splattered across the windshield. 

your heart pounded as you stumbled out of the car, rushing towards him. “why did you do that?!”

hongjoong turned to you, his jaw clenched. “it was a piglet.”

“wha-“ your eyes drifted to the body, a shiver going down your spine as you saw the bullet hole clean through the skull. 

hongjoong, completely unfazed, went back to the car. you stared at the lifeless body for a moment longer before hurriedly following him. 

once you were back inside, you swallowed the lump in your throat, attempting to break the suffocating silence. “….how did you know he was a piglet?”

hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. his fingers flexed against the steering wheel as he glanced at you. 

“they have a bullet tattoo..” he said finally, pulling down his collar to point to his collarbone. “..right here.”

you blinked. “oh.”

“if you ever come across one,” he continued. “kill them on sight.”

your eyes widened, your throat tightening. “what about the police?”

he fell silent for a second, his eyes fixed on the road. then, a faint smirk crossed his face. “you don’t need to worry about them.”

his answer left you unsettled, but before you could question him further, the apartment building came into view. it was modern - standing tall with the city skyline. 

hongjoong smoothly pulled into the parking lot. the abruptness of the stop sent you forward, but his hand shot out instinctively, pressing against you to keep you steady. 

“sorry,” he muttered, his voice soft - though he didn’t look at you as he retracted his arm. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

some might describe hongjoong’s apartment as ‘minimalistic’, but to you, it’s just an excuse for a grown man to avoid decorating. 

the walls were devoid of any art or family photos, the kitchen was spotless - though it was definitely untouched with how there was almost no food in the fridge. and from what you saw, the only source of entertainment was a lone TV. 

“do you..” you began, looking around the bare space. “do you even live here?”

hongjoong ignored your comment and walked towards the big couch and began to pull it into a makeshift bed. the springs creaked slightly as he unfolded it. “this is where you’ll be sleeping,” he said, dusting himself off. 

“cool.”

“don’t complain-“ he stopped himself mid-sentence and narrowed his eyes when he realised what you said. “wait, you’re okay with this?”

you blinked. “…yeah?”

“hm,” he said, slightly surprised. he looked you up and down before turning to the long hallway. “get some rest, we’re getting you a phone tomorrow.”

MONTH 2 - LIVE LAUGH LOVE GUNS

you should’ve known it wouldn’t be long before the piglets attacked you again. 

hongjoong sent you on a simple supply run - nothing unusual. but as you stood in the small pharmacy, you felt the air shift when the cashier’s demeanour turned cold. 

it all happened so fast. 

the moment you saw the gun aimed at your chest, your eyes fell to the faint outline of a bullet tattoo peeking out from his collarbone. great. 

your breath hitched as your body moved on impulse. you barely avoided the first shot as you ducked behind the display rack. 

the pharmacy was strangely empty, no one else to intervene. your heart pounded as the sounds of footsteps and gunshots echoed. 

fumbling with your phone, you dialed every number you could think of. yet, no one answered. 

your hands trembled as you typed hongjoong’s number, your last resort. 

he picked up after one ring. 

“this better be important, brat,” he grumbled, groggy like he just woke up. 

“i need help-” you semi-yelled as you narrowly dodged another shot, darting behind the counter. “i’m getting attacked-”

“-send your location,” hongjoong interrupted. “i’m on my way.”

the line went dead before you could respond. 

you sent your location and shoved the phone back into your pocket. the cashier reloaded the gun, his footsteps growing louder. and just as you moved, he charged. 

he grabbed you, trying to pin you down. you barely managed to fight back, until you made an educated attack - kicking him in the groin. 

he groaned, stumbling back. you took the opportunity to snatch the gun from his hands. 

you pointed it at him, your hands shaking. “stay back,” your voice cracked. 

the man scoffed. “over my dead body,” he lunged at you again. 

your finger moved instinctively, pulling the trigger. 

once. 

twice. 

again and again and again. 

the sound of gunfire rang in your ears, the recoil sending waves through your arms. you didn’t stop until you heard a clicking noise that meant that the gun was empty. 

when you opened your eyes, he was no longer standing. 

you looked down, the cashier laying sprawled on the ground, the concrete dark with blood. bullet holes littered his body, evidence of your frantic shots. 

you dropped to your knees, your chest heaving. you reached out to check his pulse. nothing.

you just took someone’s life. 

your eyes fell to your hands, bloody and shaking. from young, you always wanted to save lives - not take them. tears fell from your eyes, blurring your vision. 

the door slammed open. 

hongjoong stood in the doorway. he took in the body on the floor and your frozen form in a single glance. he sighed, stepping in. 

“come on, let’s go,” he crouched to grab your arm. 

you couldn’t move, your eyes fixed on the lifeless body. 

“hey,” his fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face to meet his. his eyes were intense, his touch warm against your cold skin. “we need to leave before more show up. you don’t want to kill anyone else, do you?”

you shook your head quickly. 

he pulled you to your feet, wrapping his arm around yours as he guided you to his car. the ride back was silent as you stared out of the window. 

and before you knew it, you were back at his apartment. 

you hesitated at the door, unable to bring yourself to step inside. 

hongjoong sighed, grabbing your wrist as he tugged you in. he tossed his gun and his keys in the kitchen counter before turning to you. 

“go take a long shower. i’ll be in the living room.”

you nodded, moving to the bathroom in a daze. 

the water was scalding as it hit your skin. no amount of soap or scrubbing would ever make you feel clean from the bloodied-stains. every part of your body felt foreign - even your puffy eyes and lips.

once you were done, you dressed in the softest clothes you had, hoping that it would provide you with some form of comfort (it didn’t).

the pull-out couch was prepared with brand-new pillows and fluffy blankets when you returned to the living room. hongjoong sat on the edge, gesturing for you to sit. you sank down beside him. 

the silence stretched on until it became unbearable. 

you spoke up, your voice barely audible. “…i killed someone.”

“you did,” he nodded. “good job.”

your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “i killed someone.”

“and so have i,” hongjoong leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “does that bother you?”

“i…”

he leaned back. “it should. the first time always does.”

“i don’t think i can do this,” you breathed out shakily. “i don’t want to hurt people..”

the two of you locked eyes for what felt like ages. you could see hongjoong’s adam's apple bob up and down, his jaw tightening slightly. “no one wants to hurt people,” he replied softly. 

you blinked. 

“i shouldn’t have sent you out alone, especially with your dad targeting you,” he sighed. “that’s on me.”

“but-”

“-though i do have to say, this made me realise how.. unprepared you are,” he continued.

your eyebrows furrowed. 

“if you want to survive, you need to know how to defend yourself,” he drummed his fingers against the couch. “...you’re off supply runs. from now on, you’re training with the others.”

you stared at him. “what?”

“the rest have some ‘schedule’ for training. i’m sure you can join without any problems.”

you hesitated. the thought of the blood, the body, the gun in your hands made you nauseous. the idea of training scared you. 

he noticed this, his eyes softening slightly. “you won’t be a killer, just someone capable of self-defense.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. finally, you nodded, your voice small. “okay.”

MONTH 3 - LET’S GO GAMBLING!

the casino was glitzy and loud with copyright-free music, its neon lights casting eerie shadows on the dark streets outside. 

“you three, cover left. you two, check the vault. the rest of you will stay near the exit,” hongjoong ordered.

you waited for your assignment, expecting to be grouped with someone. instead, hongjoong said, “you’re with me.”

you sighed. “alright.”

you followed hongjoong to the right side of the casino, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filling the space. he moved silently, keeping his gun concealed but ready. you tried to mimic his focus, clutching the knife wooyoung lent you earlier.

the first sign of trouble came when the alarms blared.

armed men swarmed into the casino. piglets.

hongjoong moved first, taking them down in a single shot. you ducked behind a pillar, your heart pounding.

the fight moved fast. hongjoong was precise - he wasn’t even touchable, killing the men easily.

but that was when you saw it before he did: a piglet creeping up behind him, raising and aiming the gun to his head.

“boss!”

without hesitation, you hurled wooyoung’s knife to the piglet.

the knife pierced and plunged into his neck, causing the man to fall, his gun clattering to the ground. 

hongjoong whipped his head around with wide eyes, shooting the man infront of him before spinning to kill the piglet you just hit.

the silence that followed was deafening.

hongjoong’s breathing was heavy as he lowered his weapon. he dusted his clothes off, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

he gulped, finally speaking up. “...good job, pretty.” 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

slowly, everyone regrouped in the corner, collapsing onto the floor in a circle. bottles of water were passed around as everyone caught their breaths.

for a while, no one spoke, the only sounds being an occasional groan.

“hey,” wooyoung hiccuped, breaking the silence as he turned to you. “give me my knife back.”

you looked at him awkwardly before handing him his completely bloody and dented knife - basically ruined.

“what the hell!” he exclaimed. “that was one of my favourites!”

you shrugged. “you shouldn’t have given it to me then.”

“i didn’t know you were actually gonna use it,” wooyoung complained. “i thought you would just watch.”

“you’re such a dick,” you rolled your eyes.

wooyoung leaned in closer - his voice annoyingly sweet. “aw, don’t be mad, sweetheart. i’ll get you a better knife- one that won’t bend in your delicate fucking hands.”

“shut up,” you groaned, shoving him lightly as the others chuckled.

hongjoong leaned against the wall, his arm crossed over his chest. his eyes shifted from wooyoung to you. 

his chest tightened in a now-familiar way: you’re fitting in too well.

it wasn’t jealousy - at least, that’s what he told himself. it was about control. your presence was a distraction he didn’t account for. but the others took you in so easily, which was technically a good thing, right?

and yet...

why did his stomach twist every time one of them smiled at you?

hongjoong blinked, realising how his leg was bouncing restlessly. he forced himself to stop, sighing deeply.

“you good, boss?” yunho asked.

hongjoong paused. “...i’m fine.”

yunho raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it, turning away.

hongjoong’s eyes returned to you. you were leaning a little too close to yeosang now, laughing at some joke wooyoung said - sending a strange pang through his chest.

why did this bother him so much?

you weren’t doing anything wrong. you were building trust, meshing with the group - just like he expected.

but this wasn’t about the group, was it?

he frowned, thinking. you stitched him right after he kidnapped you, you saved him from getting shot even though you were definitely not ready to fight.

what has he ever done for you?

introduced you to a world of crime? to a world of killing, stealing and hatred? accidentally ruined the relationship between you and your dad?

hongjoong closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

shit.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

without bothering to change, you sank into the pull-out couch - exhaustion pulling you to it like gravity.

you heard hongjoong locking the door behind him, the soft click sounding loud in the quiet apartment. his footsteps shuffled toward the kitchen, the sounds of cabinets opening and closing reaching your ears. you were way too tired to look.

you didn’t realise you drifted off until you were awoken by something heavy on your body.

your eyes fluttered open groggily. for a moment, you thought you were dreaming. hongjoong was in the middle of draping a large blanket on you.

“what are you doing?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

his eyes darted to yours briefly. “nothing.”

you frowned, shifting to sit up - but he placed a hand on your shoulder, pressing you gently back down. “sleep.”

you let out a quiet sigh. “shouldn’t you be sleeping?” you muttered.

he paused, his jaw tensing. “....tomorrow onwards, you’re training with me.”

you stared at him, stunned. before you could even say anything, he turned and walked away without a word.

…did your boss just tucked you in?

MONTH 3.5 -  PUNCH, KICK, SNARE

“again,” hongjoong said, slightly out of breath. 

the living room felt smaller than usual with the two of you moving around. the coffee table and couch was pushed aside, leaving just enough space to practice your punches without tripping over the furniture. he claimed training here would teach you how to ‘fight in tight quarters’.

he sighed. “your moves are sloppy.”

you groaned, shaking your aching wrists. “i’m trying.”

“that’s not enough when someone’s aiming a gun at your head,” he replied, stepping back and raising hands. “your punches are too weak and your balance is all over the place. reset your stance.”

you rolled your eyes but obeyed, repositioning your feet. it wasn’t the first time you’ve heard those words from him.

hongjoong moved closer, tapping your wrist. “keep your guard up. always.”

you threw another punch, but it barely made his hands move. he lowered them, sighing. “that’s not going to hurt anyone-“

“-i’m doing my best, okay?” you snapped. “i’m not a fast learner.”

his eyes softened for a moment before narrowing again. “that’s not an excuse when your life is on the line.”

you tsked. he was right of course, but that didn’t make it easier to hear.

“again.”

you tried once more, throwing a combination of punches that he blocked with ease. when you attempted a kick, you stumbled, nearly losing your footing.

he caught you instinctively, his hands steadying you.

“watch your balance,” he said automatically, going on a tangent on how training is important and blahblahblah. 

you tried to focus on your surroundings, on the words he was saying, but it was hard to ignore the proximity between you. the smell of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of sweat in the room. his touch wasn’t rough or aggressive like you’d expect - it was gentle.

your eyes drifted to his face, catching the faint scars along his cheekbones and jawline. were those always there? or was this the first time you really noticed?

his brows furrowed, likely in frustration at your lack of response, but the concern in his eyes snapped you back into reality, making you realise that you were staring the whole time.

“i don’t think i’m cut out for this,” the words spilled out before you could stop them.

hongjoong paused, his lips parting slightly - he wasn’t  expecting you to say that. for a moment, he was silent. he then leaned in, his eyes piercing. 

“you don’t get to quit.”

the intensity of his voice made you forget about the aches in your muscles and the sweat dripping down your back. his words weren’t angry - they were commanding. 

“why do you even care?” you whispered, barely audible.

his grip on your arms loosened slightly, his eyes searching yours for what felt like eternity. then out of nowhere, he stepped back, clearing his throat as he avoided your gaze. “take five,” he mumbled, walking to the kitchen.

MONTH 5 - BLOOD, BLOOD AND MORE BLOOD

the office building looked ordinary. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was just another corporate HQ. but you knew better.

and so did hongjoong.

you held up the new knife wooyoung gave you, one that wasn’t as pretty as the last. it was finally the day you ambushed your dad, the man that’s been wanting you dead for months.

you looked up to face hongjoong. “i don’t want to see it,” you said suddenly.

he raised an eyebrow. “see what?”

“when you kill him. my dad,” you clarified, your throat tightening. “i’m.. okay with it, but i don’t want to see it.”

his eyes studied you. after a moment, he nodded. “make sure to stay close to me,” he said before turning to the building.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the group slipped into the building through the side. hongjoong led the way, gripping his pistol tightly as you stayed close behind him.

“elevators are too risky,” hongjoong looked back at the group. “we’ll take the stairs.”

the group nodded, their weapons drawn as they moved quietly through the halls. the fluorescent lights did nothing to mask the sinister aura that was buried in the walls.

when you reached the stairwell, the sound of footsteps echoing above sent everyone into high alert.

the first shot rang out.

gunfire filled the stairwell. the air was thick with smoke and gunfire. you pressed yourself against the wall, trying to avoid all of the attacks happening around you. you tried to go in to fight but-

-someone grabbed you.

you struggled, twisting out of their grasp. but before you could scream, a hand clamped over your mouth, dragging you away. “stay still.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the stench forced your eyes open - a horrid mix of stale cigar smoke and alcohol. the office was dimly lit and your father crouched infront of you, his face smug as he cornered you.

“you think you’re better than me, don’t you?” he sneered.

you glared at him, your heart pounding. “fuck off.”

a bitter laugh escaped his lips. “you’ve gotten worse since you joined that boy,” he spat. “should i cut off your tongue? unhinge your jaw? or maybe i’ll be basic and shoot you.”

“you’re insane,” your stomach twisted. “it’s hard to believe we’re related, especially with how ugly you are.”

“you-”

before he could finish, you jammed wooyoung’s knife into his other thigh, dragging it down to create a large gash. he let out a guttural scream, stumbling into a desk as his pants turned a dark red.

you moved quickly, scrambling out of the corner, but two piglets grabbed you before you could get far.

“stupid bitch,” your father hissed, forcing himself up as he took out the knife in his thigh, looking directly at you. “you’re going to regret that.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

as hongjoong shot another piglet with his pistol, he looked around the haze, searching for a certain someone. “where’s ‘____’?” he asked.

the group stayed silent.

“shit- we don’t know,” wooyoung said nervously.

hongjoong’s face darkened - and without hesitation, he grabbed a nearby piglet by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “where’s your boss?” he snarled.

the piglet squirmed. “i- i have a family!”

hongjoong’s grip on his collar tightened, his eyes widening scarily. “then bring me to him.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“your mother should’ve gotten the abortion,” your father said before settling down infront of you, the bloody knife close to your face. “then my money wouldn’t be wasted on cunts like you.”

“i’m surprised that you got a woman like her to fuck you,” you breathed out shakily as the blade hit your skin. 

“i guess you inherited her bitchiness.”

the door burst open as the knife grazed your skin. hongjoong stepped in, his gun raised. “let go of her,” he ordered.

the piglets hesitated, glancing between your father and hongjoong. your father’s hand didn’t move, a scar forming on your face. 

“you want her that badly?” your father asked mockingly. “you’re becoming soft.”

hongjoong didn’t answer. instead, he moved faster than you thought was possible, shooting the two piglets that held you with ease.

the bodies hit the ground - causing your father to shove you harshly against the wall. pain shot through your body as you heard something crack.

hongjoong froze, his pistol trained on your dad. 

“stay back,” your father warned, hovering the blade near your temple.

hongjoong’s jaw clenched. he dropped his gun slightly, making your father relax.

but then hongjoong lunged.

the fight was brutal, all punches and grunts. you slumped against the wall, your cheek bleeding uncontrollably as every part of your body ached.

after what felt like ages, hongjoong finally gained the upper hand, pinning your dad down as he pointed the gun to his head. but then his eyes landed on yours, wide and terrified - making him freeze.

“shit,” he cursed under his breath, lowering the gun. he turned and rushed to you, pulling you into his arms.

your father tried to crawl away, but hongjoong didn’t let him go far. with you in his embrace, he covered your eyes and ears tightly as the sound of a singular gunshot echoed in the room.

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. his hand cradled the back of your head, his touch soft. “it’s over,” he whispered as you sobbed.

you shook your head against his chest, the salt in your tears stinging the cut on your cheek. “i almost died.”

“i know,” he said softly. “but i wouldn’t let that happen.”

his words settled over you like a warm blanket. you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face. you could feel the heat of his body as he kept you close.

hongjoong shifted, his hands moving to your shoulders as he looked at you carefully. his thumb brushed over your scar, wiping away the trail of blood on your face.

“you’re shaking,” his eyebrows furrowed. “you need to breathe.”

“i’m trying.”

he reached for a nearby chair and pulled it over, guiding you to sit. hongjoong crouched infront of you, your hands trembling in his.

“you’re safe,” his eyes locked onto yours. “i’ve got you.”

something inside you cracked at his words - and tears spilled once more. hongjoong didn’t say anything, but his presence was enough. he stayed crouched infront of you, letting you take all the time you needed.

when you finally looked up, there was something unspoken in his eyes - a mix of guilt and relief that made your heart ache. “...thank you,” you whispered.

his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but the words never came. instead, he nodded slowly, his grip on your hands tightening for a moment before letting go.

at that moment, you leaned forward, closing the small distance between you. your lips brushed against his, just enough to make his entire body stiffen.

for a second, you thought you made a mistake. his hands paused midair and his breathing hitched.

but then, he moved. to you. 

his hands cupped your face gently, pulling you closer into a kiss. it was slow at first, but when you gripped his shirt tightly - the feelings he’d been keeping were let loose.

his lips pressed against yours with urgency. his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you like you might disappear if he let go. 

you responded instinctively. your hands found his neck, his jaw - brushing over them softly in a way that made him groan. “fuck- you’re so pretty.”

the world around you spun in swirls of blood, smoke and cologne, overwhelming you in a way that made you lose your breath.

hongjoong broke away for a moment, panting slightly. his lips curled into a smirk, before he kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense. it was grounding, reassuring and impossibly warm.

when the two of you pulled back, his thumb traced your scar. “this..” he began quietly. “..this isn’t what i expected tonight.”

you let out a soft, shaky laugh. “me neither.”

he pecked your forehead as he stood up, his legs slightly wobbly from the kiss. hongjoong held out a hand, helping you to your feet. “...let’s go home.”

series taglist - @hanoishere @scuzmunkie @sinfullygay @arusio @midnightrebel1028 @neemaxx @seungminsrighthand @arilevenatz @ateezswonderland @beabatiny @lemirabitur @sunnyhokyu @frzzenfrxg @cylovesmg @txtsoobean @seonghwasslytherin @sundaybossanova @sweetinsaniiity @cybrnaya @choisanchwego @mrskill2

BONUS SCENE - MINE

the apartment was quiet as you laid on the pull-out couch, staring at the ceiling. sleep wasn’t coming - your mind was too busy replacing the events earlier.

the memory of hongjoong’s arms around you stayed, along with the feeling of his lips on yours. how could a man as dangerous as him bring you such comfort?

a soft knock against the wall broke the silence.

you sat up slowly, seeing hongjoong standing in the hallway. his hair was slightly damp and he wore a loose black hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. he hesitated before walking to you, his movements weirdly awkward.

“...you okay?” you asked the nervous man.

he shrugged, trying to play it off as he sat next to you. “i’m fine. you?”

“i’ve been better.”

there was a pause as the two of you stared at each other, the silence heavy. finally, he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

“i’ve been thinking..” hongjoong trailed off.

“uh-oh.”

“i-it’s not a bad thing-” he said hurriedly. “it’s just that.. tonight made me think about a lot of things.”

you tilted your head, confused.

his voice softened as he continued. “but this isn’t just about tonight. it’s about.. everything. i don’t want you to feel.. unsafe all the time.”

“i don’t,” you said instantly, but you’re not sure how much you believed yourself.

he leaned back slightly, reaching into his hoodie pocket. when his hand reappeared, it was holding a pistol - his pistol, sleek and black.

“take this,” he held it out to you.

you blinked, staring at the weapon. “what? why?”

“because it’s mine,” he replied simply leaving no room for argument. “and now, it’s ours.”

you hesitated, your hand hovering over the gun. “i.. i barely know how to use this.”

“then i’ll teach you.”

you looked up at him, searching his face for answers. “...why are you giving this to me?”

you noticed the way his eyes darted down as you looked at him, his fingers tightening around the pistol as he pushed it to you. 

“because,” hongjoong began quietly. “i trust you.”

your fingers paused before finally closing around the gun. the cold metal felt deadly in your grasp, but the way his eyes lit up made your heart swell.

“you trust me..?” you asked softly, a faint smile on your face. “hongjoong..”

his usual composure faltered as you said his name, a blush dusting his face. he swallowed the lump in his throat, gathering himself. “you���re not just a part of the group,” he said. “you’re more than that. to me.”

your eyebrows shot up, completely stunned. “...i don’t know what to say.”

“say yes.”

you blinked. “yes to what?”

“to being mine,” hongjoong’s hands fidgeted slightly.

your heart raced as you heard his words. a wide smile spread across your face as you realised what he was really asking.

“are you..” you paused. “are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

his breath got caught in his throat as he nodded. “yeah.”

the man that was the literal leader of an entire gang, was sitting nervous infront of you. it was a funny sight to see, but you brought yourself back to reality, answering his question.

“yes.”

a wave of relief washed over his face as he let out the breath he seemed to be holding. he reached out, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he leaned closer. “wanna sleep in my bed tonight?”

deleted scenes

other fics

[a-tiny-thing]

The Art of Climbing the Corporate Ladder Masterpost (San x Reader)

✅ Completed ✅

Original Release: 01/05/24 - 01/25/24

Trailer

Part I: Left alone in the aftermath of your devastating break-up, you dive head-first into the cutthroat world of corporate success. On your ascend to the top, you take on the challenge of training Choi San, a new hire who is not only irresistibly charming and attractive but also surprisingly endearing. But who exactly is he?

Part II: With the newfound information about who San really is, your relationship comes to a screeching halt. Situations at the office grow more and more awkward, and each interaction is laced with uncomfortable bitterness. It breaks San's heart, and he knows he has to win you back. But can he?

🎧 playlist 🎧: dean: die 4 you 🐈‍⬛ tabber: being 🐈‍⬛ yerin baek: interlude 🐈‍⬛ bibi: hongdae r&b 🐈‍⬛ OoOo: fuxxin' love 🐈‍⬛ so!yoon!: love (a secret visitor) 🐈‍⬛ sogumm & keumbee: salt rain

[a-tiny-thing]

GRRR ITS SO FREAKING CUTEEE!! I LOVE BOOKSTORE LOVE SO MUCHHH <3333

In the Blur of the Rain (San x Reader)

Summary: San's always been hardheaded, and it's this same stubbornness that puts him on a mandatory leave from his precinct just before the holidays. His days waste away until he stumbles into your bookstore to escape the cold weather. Complete opposites, he isn't sure why he comes back again the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Word Count: 15.41k (💀)

Genre/Warnings: smut (MDNI!!!), strangers to lovers, detective!san x bookstoreowner!readeer, slowburn (bc I can't seem to write anything else lol), oral (f receiving), ab riding, face riding, switch behavior from mc and sannie, breast play, unprotected sex (PLS DONT), tiniest bit of wax play but not really, hair pulling, sex by the fireplace (heh), LOTS of fluff, sprinkle of angst, LOTS of bookworm behavior, many of my fav books mentioned so pls don't be mean, anxiety, panic attacks, anger management (kind of), inaccurate representation of precincts during holidays, also inaccurate representation of how property closures work lol, ridiculous verb tense irregularities

Author's Note: Happy New Years!!! Firstly, thank you so so SO much for 700 followers! I'm so happy to know that that many people enjoy my fics. Truly thank you from the bottom of my heart 🥹🫶. I'm also just really happy to be back and publishing some writing again! I've got some pretty exciting things lined up for these first couple of months of the new year, so def look forward to that!! I hope everybody has a great start to 2025, much love <33

🎧 playlist 🎧: jiwoo: in the blur of the rain 🕯️ jiwoo: lustre 🕯️ exo: let me in 🕯️ taehyung: snow flower 🕯️ jiwoo: evergray 🕯️ childish gambino: iii. urn 🕯️ taemin: deja vu

This is a work of fiction, and it is not meant to be a realistic representation of any real person mentioned in any way, shape, or form.

San had been aimlessly wandering for the better part of an hour now. The cloudy sky above him was telling, raindrops threatening to come down any minute now. But San only continues, kicking forward the rather large pebble that had come loose from the sidewalk some blocks back.

Not too concerned with the passing time, San wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking. He hadn’t known how he’d managed to occupy his time in the past couple of weeks, the days and nights melding into one. He passes a busy salon and briefly glances at the women dying and perming their hair. He turns away, hoping they have an umbrella.  

But even the hovering bad weather wasn’t enough to bring the people walking besides him down. They walk giddily, hand in hand, pointing at the intricate window displays. He felt uncomfortable, his self-implicated alienation uncomfortably obvious among their holiday spirit.

He huffs a heavy sigh. This forced time off was proving to be much more difficult than he had anticipated. The first couple of days were manageable. He caught up with his much-needed lack of sleep and spent the rest of the days cleaning his apartment. But once he ran out of the little food he did have, he was reluctantly forced to visit the grocery store. 

He’d caught up on sleep, cleaned every corner of his apartment, and finally cleared out the fridge. But once he ran out of food, he’d been forced to venture out. A trip to the grocery store yielded a sad haul of bread, milk, and a boxed mix of leafy greens: a reflection of his lack of appetite and, frankly, his lack of enthusiasm for life outside work.

With his errands complete, he hadn’t been ready to return to his apartment, its silence pressing on him like a second skin. So, he walked, turning down unfamiliar streets and weaving through alleys with no destination in mind. Who was he without his badge? Without people to protect? Without a purpose?

San had always been a hardhead. It served him well in the academy and in the early days at the precinct. But lately, it had become more of a liability than an asset. He clenched his jaw at the memory of his last case, the interrogation room dim and suffocating as he pressed a suspect for hours on end. The man was as slippery as they came, smirking through San’s frustration until something in him snapped.

“You gotta cool it, son,” the chief had said, stepping into the hallway just as San stormed out of the room.

San hadn’t stopped, his boots echoing down the corridor as he made a beeline for his desk. “He’s guilty, and you know it,” he’d fired back over his shoulder, his tone cutting.

The chief followed, his voice calm but firm. “Maybe he is, but You can’t lose control like that, especially not without any evidence to back yourself up. I’ve been down that road before, and trust me, it doesn’t lead anywhere pretty. We’ve got protocols for a reason.”

San shoved a stack of papers aside, his jaw tightening. “Protocols don’t mean shit when someone like that walks free because of a technicality.”

The chief sighed, rubbing a hand over his weathered face. “Look, I get it. You’re one of the best we’ve got. Hell, I saw it back in the academy, and I see it every damn day. You’ve got drive, heart—more than most of the guys in this building. But that doesn’t mean you’re above the rules.”

San scoffed, his frustration bubbling over. “Half the guys here don’t give a damn about protecting anyone. They’re just here for the paycheck or the power trip. And you want to lecture me about rules?”

The chief’s gaze hardened, his voice dropping low. “Fine. Maybe not everyone’s in it for the right reasons. But you are. And that’s why you can’t let this anger consume you. You can’t help anyone if you burn out or get yourself benched permanently.”

They walked toward the heavy double doors, the city quiet in the crisp night air. The chief stopped at the top of the stairs, his breath visible as he exhaled slowly. “Listen, son. I’ve been where you are. I know what it feels like to want justice so bad it hurts. But you’ve got to channel that fire, not let it control you. That’s why I’m putting you on mandatory leave.”

San froze, turning to him with disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” The chief’s tone was unyielding. “Give me your badge and gun. You’re not coming back until you’ve had time to figure out who you are without them.”

Reluctantly, San handed over the items, his heart sinking as the chief took them. The older man’s face softened, his voice quiet but resolute. “I know you’ve got anger for the unjust that’s drowning this city, but you can’t bottle it up and blow it out on some asshole that mugs old ladies. I want you to know this isn’t a punishment. It’s a second chance. Use it to get your head straight.” 

And San figures that was fair.

This time was supposed to help him answer that, but all San had done was sleep, clean his apartment, get some groceries, and take an obscurely long walk to strange parts of the city.

“Oops. Sorry, mister!” San looks down to find a little boy patting the material of his black trousers. He couldn’t have been any older than five, cheeks tinged rose in the cold. One of his hands was gloved, and the other was bare, tightly clutching a powdered pastry, much of the powder now on San’s pant leg. The kid’s gloved hand continues to wipe, only smearing the stark white sugar more, coloring the spot on his pants a light gray. 

The little boy’s mother pulls him away to continue down the crowded street, throwing a quick apology in San's way before turning around to scold her son. They quickly get lost in the sea of people in the busy downtown. 

The streets are bustling today. The decorations for the holidays had gone up some days ago, and now, every storefront was decked with wreaths and lights. San looks at the people that pass him, faces stretched wide with smiles and hands filled with presents and wrapping paper. His steps slow a little, watching the happiness decorate the faces of so many people. 

To look at the streets and people without having a tragedy to attach to them was unfamiliar to him, unnatural even. 

The traffic was only increasing, with more and more people bumping into San’s shoulders. San finds it stifling, and he feels as if he’s back in the interrogation room with the ticking clock of detainment breathing down his neck. 

His chest constricts, and San finds himself turning into an alley. Adapting a fast pace, he exits out the alley into another street, his large pebble shockingly still alongside his uneven stride. 

This street is quiet, void of the festive cheer from the street that runs parallel, and it helps in calming him down. He breathes in the cool November air and looks at his surroundings. Despite having lived in the city for several years now, he’d never been down this particular street, at least he thinks he hasn’t. There had never been time to explore with the multitude of cases.

The storefronts here are also decorated, but it fares lamely compared to the other street. The effort is minimal and it shows desperately. Many of the strung up lights are no longer lit, and the wreaths look as if one strong gust could blow them apart. 

The festivity on this street feels exhausted like it’s seen one to many holiday seasons and just can’t be bothered to participate in them, yet San finds it comforting. Despite the stress the holidays brought to the precinct, San had always liked this time of year, and the way this particular street was decorated seemed to resonate with him more. 

While he can still hear the commotion of people from one street over, he tries to walk it off, and for some minutes, San and his pebble stroll the quieter street. 

Without having to dodge other shoppers or watch out for little children, the chief’s words come back to his mind. 

You can’t lose control like that, especially not without any evidence to back yourself up. I’ve been down that road before, and trust me, it doesn’t lead anywhere pretty.

The chief’s downfall was a story San had pieced together from fragments over the years. The case that broke him was a mess—eyewitness accounts that contradicted each other, blurry CCTV footage, and the absence of concrete evidence. The parallels were impossible to ignore.

And if there was one thing Choi San did not have, it was the concrete evidence. 

But he knew that all it would’ve taken was a little bit of pushing. With just a little bit of prodding, he could’ve and would’ve gotten a confession. 

His frustration, while milder than it was the night of the interrogation, is renewed, and to exercise it, he kicks particularly hard at his pebble, making it roll off the sidewalk and unceremoniously fall into a storm drain. When he hears the clink as it reaches the sewer floor, San also feels the first raindrop. 

He can only sigh. With the pebble and the chief forgotten, he speeds up, finally tilting his head upwards to read the storefront signs, deciding that, without an umbrella, he’d surely need to find a sanctuary in one of them soon.

He passes far too many more salons and boutiques than one street needs, before entering a seemingly forgotten corner of the avenue. Many of the spaces are for sale, another couple advertising shady business operations, and finally one sad mattress store. Just past them, is another store with a sigh San can’t quite make out. As the weight of the raindrops increases, he moves closer, careful to not slip on the slick cobblestones. 

Nearing it, the sign simply reads “Old & Rare Books”. The outside of the store is sodden much like the rest of the street, and the interior so dark that the window in the front doesn’t show San anything but his own reflection. 

San turns his back to the store, eyeing the entrance of the mattress store and one of the many salons further down the street. With one more look at the thundering sky, San pushes the heavy wooden door to the bookstore open. 

The inside of the store, despite its cool appearance, is warm and unexpectedly smells of chocolate. The walls are lined with rich, ebony wood, only darkening the space more. As San turns to eye the rest of the store, his bag of groceries thuds against a stack of books, knocking the pile over. 

With a sigh, San only looks for an employee, but what he finds is complete disarray. 

To put it simply, the store was in utter chaos. Much like the fallen jumble by the door, there were books strewn everywhere, the messy heaps neverending, forcefully stacked and piled against one another with no formality. With a crooked neck, San finds the rest of the long and dim store in a similar manner. 

The state of the mess has San standing still, and as he observes his surroundings, his disbelief only builds. This store was like a thief’s playground. 

First of all, the store was entirely too dark, and there were no clear sightlines for San or any employees to keep an eye on the entirety of the store’s layout. The register was located in a strange corner to his right, and San was unable to spot any cameras. San wouldn’t even know how to begin to take inventory when the inventory itself was scattered so carelessly in every corner of the store. To his left, there was a brown leather couch nestled in another corner, and on its cushions slept a very much not alert gray cat. 

Opposite the couch was a box computer that looked to be older than San, a logo bouncing from edge to edge on its screen, and just behind that was a wire spiral staircase leading up to the second floor. And, there was still no employee in sight, despite the ringing of the bell that hung above the door and the thudding of the stack of books San had knocked over. 

If anyone did decide to steal, the store owner would be none the wiser. 

This was starting to piss San off. If a call had come into the precinct to report a theft of any kind, there would be little to nothing they could do, and their report would be a measly one page, lacking any and all substance. And he knows that after the fact, the precinct would still be bad-mouthed by the store owner or even a local newspaper, written aside to be lazy.  

He feels his chest constricting again and decides the mattress store will just have to do. He turns back towards the door he’s just come through, but through the window, he watches the rain pour, drizzling down heavily onto the pavement and roads, darkening them. Begrudgingly, he faces the interior of the bookstore again. 

He hears a gentle clicking of shoes against the wooden panels from the creaky floor above him, and suddenly, descending the wire staircase, you peak your head out. Oddly enough, the anxiety he was feeling only moments ago vanishes as you come into view. 

You seem misplaced in the store, the whites and cream of your apparel far too contrasted with the dark and moody interior. Your long cream skirt drags slightly along the floor, and there’s a dirtied apron tied securely around your waist smeared with a combination of sugar, butter, and flour. As you move closer, San can smell baked goods.

Unlike the artificially and sickly sweet smell coming from the bakeries and pastry shops from the parallel street, you smell real. San doesn’t know how to describe it, but he momentarily shuts his eyes, taking in your scent. 

“Hi! Welcome in, is there anything I can help you find?” Your voice is cheery, and you hope it isn’t all too obvious that you’re excited to finally have someone in the store. 

With the holiday season in full swing, the traffic on main street was bound to trickle into your street, but with new big-brand wholesale bookstores popping up all over the city, you could only pray customers would walk far enough into this street to see your place. 

So when anybody, especially someone this handsome, walks in, you want to be there to greet them, welcoming them into your store with a warm Hello! and sincere Thank you! for choosing your little bookstore instead of the heavily franchised wholesalers across town, but cookies in your oven had a different idea. 

The man’s features, although striking, were roughened, like he’d been to war and back, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep by toasty fire. Yet you stand undeterred and patiently in front of the man, waiting for him to answer. You were positive you could find him something to read in your store, it was your job after all.

“Just escaping the rain for some time, I’ll be leaving once it slows,” is all he says, voice deep and certain.

You only hum, continuing in his direction, stopping in front of the window. You stand side-by-side, watching the pouring rain for some seconds before whispering, “Wow, it’s really coming down out there.” You turn to the man, placing your hands on your hips, “Sure I can’t offer you something to read? We’ve got books for all ages, I’m sure I can find you something,” you suggest.

Normally, San would have a hard time believing you, and he thinks part of him definitely does. With the sheer lack of structure surrounding the two of you in the store, he doesn’t think it’s possible to find anything. But when your eyes sparkle even in the dim lights of the store, he only agrees, finding the smile on your face widening.

With a skip in your step, you begin weaving through the familiar aisles. Unsure of himself, San decided to follow you, watching as your eyes scan the titles on the shelves. 

Now that he’s looking closely at the actual books in your store, he sees that many of them don’t look too old or rare. In fact, some of them look like they’re straight from the manufacturing press. His fingertips trace the spine of a book that’s yet to be broken into, and the confusion on his face must be obvious, prompting you to speak up.

“The sign’s a bit misleading, I know. We’ve actually got more new books than we do old and rare, but I’ve grown attached to the old thing. Can’t find it in myself to replace it,” you say with a pensive sigh. Your eyes continue to rake along the stuffed shelves, searching for something particular. 

As the man follows a respectful distance behind you, you sneak in a couple of hopefully discrete glances. His form was broad and stiff, face hardened with a stoic expression. Despite it, you could feel some judgment radiating off of him. Deciding to look past it, you notice his dark attire. 

If it wasn’t for his face, he could’ve easily blended into the walls of the store. A jet black turtleneck matched with jet black trousers. A silver belt buckle resting exactly at the center of his waist. A dark gray woolen coat that seemed just a little too tight around his shoulders. Hair neat, each strand pushed out of his face. It told you everything and nothing at the same time. 

“What do you usually like to read…” you trail off, hoping at least a name would get you somewhere. 

“San,” he fills in. 

“San,” you say, pondering the name, continuing to walk down the busy aisles.  

But San lags behind. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard his name said so sweetly before. Sure, his own name has been yelled at him many times before by his own father, his sisters, his academy teachers, and even the chief, but it’s never been said in a way that’s brought warmth to him. He clears his throat to rid himself of the feeling, catching up to you as you repeat, “What genres do you read most often?”

San’s steps falter again. The last time San had opened a book was during his finals at the academy, and even that had been a textbook. After he’d gotten his job at the precinct, the only reading he’d done had been from case files. What genre would those even qualify as? “Nonfiction,” he settles on before changing his mind, “True crime… mystery?” He grimaces at his diffident response, but even with the little he’d given you, your expression only brightens. 

With this knowledge, you speed through the aisles, San obediently keeping up behind you. You finally stop in front of a shelf that’s lined with thin books that look smaller than the size of San’s hands, and with a pointed finger, you graze the titles. When you spot the book you’re searching for, you pull it out with a gasp. 

“This is a good one,” you tell him, facing the cover towards him. Lost Horizon. The paperback book was old, probably printed some 50 years ago, and the cover donned a painted illustration of a peculiar scene. In the center of a series of jagged, snow-capped mountains was a patch of green. Four tiny men were leading another four tiny men to the warm refuge, navigating through the harsh alpine environment in clothing from the early 1900s. Despite its age, the book was well taken care of, void of discoloration and bent pages. 

“It’s a book about Hugh Conway, who’s a veteran. His plane crashes in the Himalayas, and he and his men take refuge in the valley of Blue Moon in a place called Shangri-La. It’s hard to establish a utopia when you’ve only got less than 200 pages to tell your story, but Hilton’s such a good writer that he does flawlessly. So, this place, Shangri-La, has no war, no crimes, and people don’t age, and oh, did you know this was the first ever mass-market produced paperback in history?”

Your face is animatedly excited, telling San more facts about the author or the premise or the paperback industry, and you know you’re ranting, far too excited about a novel that was published nearly 100 years ago. But this is the first customer, who also just happened to be ruggedly handsome and probably around your age, you’ve had in the store for the longest time. 

You try to wrap up quickly, deciding to only tell San half of the story about how President Roosevelt used the book to mislead journalists during the second World War, saying, “Anyways, Hilton’s a writer that wants his readers to feel good, and I— I just… I’m sorry if it isn’t my place to say this, but I feel like you could use some of that,” you admit, the decibels of your voice dropping significantly in the hopes that San doesn’t get offended and storm out of your store. 

But the shyly said words have the tension in San’s shoulder releasing, because yeah, he could use some of that. So mustering a friendly, albeit tight-lipped smile, he takes the book, which did in fact prove to be smaller than San’s hands, from your own, saying only a polite, “Thank you.”

Your smile returns, and you look away from him, eyeing the interior of your store. “You’re welcome to sit and read here until the rain slows down,” you tell him, pointing at the brown leather couch where the gray cat lay, still sleeping. Padding across the floor, you turn on a lamp, which sat precariously on top of a long pile of I-Spy books next to the couch. “You could give Violet some much needed company,” you say with a laugh, gently petting between the cat’s ears. 

Maybe this is what the chief was talking about. Maybe it wasn’t. 

But San sits down on the couch carefully anyways, so as to not disturb the sleeping Violet besides him. He watches more and more of your cream skirt drag along the floor as you walk away to tend to the stack of the books San’s groceries had knocked over. He turns his attention to the snow-capped mountains on the cover of the book, and when the incredibly unfamiliar sensation of relaxation takes over his form, he leans his back into the couch and turns the cover and begins reading.

Over your shoulder, you watch San get comfortable on your couch, flipping open the cover of Lost Horizon. You breathe out a relieved sigh, fixing the stack of knocked over books. It was never easy to gauge the interests of new customers, and with so many being driven away by the wholesalers, you’d grown rusty at it with many of your repeat customers being elderly women opinionated enough to know what they want to read.

But as the time ticks by and rain continues to pour, you watch San still engrossed in the story of Hugh Conway. You knew the book you’d picked out didn’t quite fit into any of the genres he’d mentioned to you, but you were taking a shot in the dark and luckily for you, it had landed squarely within San’s interests. 

A comfortable ambience takes over the bookstore, and you tend to its needs, straightening piles of books and dusting the ebony shelves. You head upstairs to your kitchen to package the now cooled chocolate cookies, even putting a new batch in the oven. Maybe I should offer some to San. 

Apprehensively, you bring a half a dozen packaged cookies down, sneaking glances at San. His stiff shoulders looked much more relaxed, thumbing through the tiny book page by page. You decide not to break his focus, placing the cookie under the register and continue on with your work, occasionally watching him slowly read a fourth of the way through the book, then halfway through while you complete your tasks. His presence in the store is comforting. and you find yourself not even caring if he makes a purchase or not. 

In San’s periphery, you run up and down the staircase and weave through the shelves endlessly, but he strictly focuses his attention on Hugh Conway’s adventure. It isn’t until Violet wakes up and begins to lick San’s fingertips that he’s brought out of the book. Turning his head in search of your figure, he sees you giving an older lady, who San hadn’t even noticed come in, some change back at the register, wishing her a good night to stay warm in the cooling weather. 

The sky outside has turned dark, welcoming the night, and the rain has also long since stopped. San clears his throat, sitting up straighter on the couch, closing the book shut. His bagful of groceries crinkles at his movement, and he realizes that his milk and greens have no doubt gone bad in the hours they’ve been sitting in the warm bookstore. 

Collecting all of his belongings, which weren’t many to begin with, he stands, joining you at the register. 

Looking up from your ledger notebook, your eyes widen in surprise. “Hey, how’s the book?”

“Good, I’m not quite finished yet, but I really should get going,” he raises his bag of groceries in his hand, hoping you’d understand. “But I’d like to purchase it,” he says, placing the book on the counter and fishing his wallet out of his coat. 

“Yeah, of course.” You scan the book, eyes catch the grocery receipt he’s tucked in it to mark his spot. You repeat his total to him, watching as he thumbs through the bills from his wallet. You hand him his change, and he lingers for a moment, as if he’s got something to say. Ultimately, San sends you another tight-lipped smile, securing Lost Horizon in his coat pocket and turning towards the door. 

You bite your lip, grabbing the package of cookies you’d hidden under the register. Just before he pushes the door open, you stop him. “Wait!” 

Hurriedly, you walk towards him, all but shoving the package of cookies in his hands. “As a thank you,” you say, quickly clarifying, “For coming into the store today. I hope you enjoy the rest of the book.” 

Had you given the older lady cookies? San hadn’t paid attention, but he grips the package tight in his hands. “Thank you, too…” he waits, as you answer with your name. He repeats it back, hoping it was as gentle and warm as when you had said his some hours ago. “For the book and for the cookies.”

*****

That night, San reads through the remaining pages of Lost Horizon in his silent apartment, snacking on your chocolate chip cookies alongside a glass of the milk that had surprisingly not gone bad. He lays awake, thinking about the book, about the characters, about the settings, and that night when he falls asleep, he dreams himself among them in the lamasery. 

For some hours that day, you’d helped San drift his mind away from the stuffy precinct and his inconsiderate coworkers. Maybe this is what the Chief was talking about. Maybe not. But when San wakes up the following morning, he decides to take another walk.

There’s no rain, but the day is significantly colder than the day before, biting at San’s exposed skin. It may not have been the most ideal temperature for taking a walk, but San does nonetheless, finding himself once again on Main Street, where yesterday’s crowd of people is nowhere to be found on today’s Monday morning.

Once again, he decides to turn down Abbey Avenue, and once again, he finds himself standing under your Old & Rare signage. Peering through the window, you’re nowhere to be seen, well at least as far as San is able to see through the old piled and stacked books. There’s no open hours posted on the door or posted anywhere online, and San knows better to try the door, so he lingers on the street that’s quiet in the hours before noon.

Turning around, he sees that some shops are open, so he visits the mattress store, and even with no intention of replacing his current bedding, still walks out with multiple cubed samples of memory foams and mini pillows. He also stops in one of the many salons as well, purchasing pomade and gel. He strolls through the many other shops, many of which don’t have much to offer San, but it’s a nice change to talk to people who aren’t filing complaints or opening cases. 

Finally, just minutes before noon, he walks up to the bookstore again. He looks through the window again, and when he spots you writing in your ledger notebook, he knocks on the door. 

The noise startles you, and you’re temporarily confused before you see San from yesterday standing at the door. 

Truthfully, you were never expecting to see him ever again. This was a big city, and he’d only stumbled into Abbey Avenue and your store by accident. Also you were certain that after accidentally, although well-intentionally, insulting him to his face and then offhandedly apologizing by giving him some cookies, he would have most definitely pegged you as a crazy lady and vowed to never wander down this area again or into your store.

Today, you’d woken up feeling gloomy knowing that San would never end up in Abbey Avenue again, and to shake away the sadness, you’d lay in bed for much longer than usual and when you finally did wake, you’d gone straight to your kitchen to put bake a loaf of spiced gingerbread, before finally heading downstairs to open up the store. 

But seeing San looking through the window with shopping bags in hand, you’re pleasantly surprised, flustered even. With an exasperated smile, you wave, motioning for him to come inside. 

“Hi!” You chirp, and you feel like you’re out of breath. You’re able to see San’s face more clearly in the midday light, noting the blush that runs across his cheeks. He’s dressed similarly to yesterday in his neutrals and darks, looking more like the owner of your bookstore more than you, who’s also dressed similarly to yesterday in your creams and pastels. 

“Hello,” is all San is able to say, not quite sure what he’s doing here as he fiddles with the strings of shopping bags. He was able to excuse his reason for coming yesterday on the torrential weather, but today, although the sky was littered with flat clouds, not a single drop of rain was expected to fall. 

He mulls the substance of each conversation over in his head, unable to actually say anything at all. Should he thank you for the delectable cookies? Should he ask you about your hours of operation? Should he talk about the ending of the book and what happens to Conway? God, the book was amazing.

Thankfully for him, you’re happy to lead the conversation, asking, “I’m taking it you finished Lost Horizon?”

Eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide, he looks at you with shock. “Yes, I di— how did you know?”

“You learn to notice the look after working at a bookstore for so long,” you tease with a shrug. “So, how’d you like it?” you ask, leaning your hip against the register. 

San grips the handles of his shopping bags in his hand, feeling the burn of their plastic on his ungloved hands. The book was incredible. The location, the philosophy splendid. San isn’t sure why he hadn’t picked up reading after so many rough days at the precinct. He’s grateful you didn’t give him a book about a gruesome murder or mystery. Just as you had said yesterday, Hilton’s writing had made him feel good, hopeful even. But these emotions were too much for him to put into cohesive words, so he pondered for a moment, somehow sure you’d give him the time to think about without judgement. 

And you do. While he collects his thoughts, you unabashedly take the time to stare at San. His reddened fingers clung onto a bag from Lou’s Mattress Shoppe, the perfectly cubed samples of memory foam jutting out from the plastic bag, and the other from Harry’s Hair Boutique, its brown bag concealing the tubbed products inside. 

Today, he was wearing a gray, long-sleeved shirt who’s long sleeves were proving to be too long, reaching beyond his wrist to cover his knuckles under his coat. The coat was the same one he’d worn yesterday, but in the light, you’re able to see some of the fibers from the woolen jacket had rubbed off onto his dark gray shirt and his collar. You were tempted to reach across the register and brush them off yourself, before you’re shaking the unprofessional thought away when San finally speaks.

“It was… brilliant,” he pauses to look at you. You’ve got a gentle smile on your face, slightly flushed as if you’ve been outside in the frigid weather. “Can you recommend something else for me?”

“Would you like to see something in particular?”

“Surprise me,” he finds himself saying.

The words sound like music to your ears, and grinning widely, you nod. The joy on your face quickly morphs into inquisitiveness as you navigate the aisles in search for another book San would enjoy. 

It’s equally thrilling and daunting to be in charge of someone’s next literary adventure. People like San were never in your store, and elderly ladies that would frequent would never ask you for your recommendations. Once in a while, some would trickle in from Main Street, haphazardly ending up in your corner of Abbey Avenue, come in for a quick see-through, maybe take a picture or two of the interior, and walk out only to never come again. 

So treating this as your utmost priority, you scan through the titles you’ve amassed with a laser-focus. You couldn’t give him something like Lost Horizon again, so you flit past the classics section. He seemed relaxed yesterday and you wanted him to be relaxed today, too, so with that in mind, you ignore the anxiety-inducing murder-mysteries. You come to a stop at the contemporary section.

These books were not for everyone, yet you found yourself lingering. Turning into the aisle, you try to remember the title of a book you’d read quite some time ago, eyebrows furrowed in series intent, hoping you don’t skim by the title by accident. When you reach a thin book with the gold-plated title, you beam with excitement. 

The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards by Kristopher Jansma. You’d read it for the first time during your first year in college, cozied up in your lofted bed with a mug of warm tea while a party ensued on both the floors above and below you. It was a good companion on that chilly night, but you were uneasy about what it would be for San. As a book about books and writing, it definitely wasn’t for everybody. But the prose was beautiful and story engaging, so shaking away the self-conscious feeling, you confidently hold the book out to him. 

“I have a feeling you’d like this one,” you tell him, watching as he flips the book in his hands. 

This book was definitely younger than Lost Horizon, and with the rigid, hardbound covers, the pages inside were far more well-protected than the pocketbook he’d purchased yesterday. He smiles as he checks the publication date and reads through the contents page, and like yesterday, it’s tight-lipped. 

But with the little more light that’s brightening the store, you can make out the faintest dimples in his cheeks. Suddenly, the ruggedness, the tiredness, the worn image you had of him fades away. He looks incredibly cute, like a big teddy bear wearing a disguise, and at the thought, you giggle lightly. 

San looks up at you in surprise, your laughter flowing like a forgotten melody in his head. He smiles wider, mostly out of confusion, but also to mimic you. You wave your own laughter away, calming yourself before clarifying, “I’m sorry, I just—”

There’s a shrill ringing of a timer coming from upstairs. Your spiced gingerbread loaf! 

There’s a panic in your eyes. “Oh, I’ve got to get that!” you say, before leaving San in the aisle as you dash towards your wire staircase. Making your way up, you continue, all but yelling, “You can join Violet and make yourself comfortable. And oh, make sure you read the Author’s Note, it’s actually a part of the story in this book!” 

And suddenly, San’s standing alone in the middle of the quiet bookstore. He can hear your footsteps above him scuffling across the floor to turn off your timer, as he flips the book in his hands again. San actually wasn’t planning on staying to read today, but now, he supposes, he probably could spare some time. 

He walks over the couch, where Violet is still lying atop of her fluffy cushion, and turns on the I-Spy lamp himself. He settles into the well worn leather, giving the sleepy Violet a timid pet. She doesn’t move away, in fact, nuzzling into San’s touch. 

Upstairs, you remove your steaming loaf from the oven with a satisfied smile. The loaf has risen perfectly symmetrical, the heavenly smell permeating throughout your home. Without giving it much time to cool properly, you begin to cut into the loaf, slicing through the hot bread. You plate a couple of slices on a plate, hurrying downstairs to give some to San. 

The cookies you’d made yesterday had partly been to serve as an apology for your comment yesterday, but it had been nice to share your baking with someone again. 

This bookstore had been your mother’s, and when she’d passed some time ago, the store had remained shut for the years immediately following. You’d spent those years deflecting the grief, busying yourself with finishing school, starting work at the bakery uptown, and staying as far away from Abbey Avenue as you possibly could. 

You were an exemplary employee, always early, first to offer to stay late, and eager to cover shifts for the other employees, but the work was only delaying the inevitable. You let the grief build up, neglecting the painful truth that your mother was gone for years, but after a particularly bad day, you’d stumbled into Abbey Avenue drunk, crying your heart out at the doors of the closed bookstore. 

The next morning, you rummaged through your apartment for the keys to the bookstore, opening its doors for the first time in nearly 3 years. 

You were searching for something you think, but you weren’t quite sure what it was. Maybe you were hoping your mother would walk down the staircase, adorned in her long skirts with a book always in hand, asking why you hadn’t come to visit in so long.

You had ignored the state of the bookstore altogether, climbing up the rickety wire staircase into the modest apartment upstairs. 

You took your time, sorting through every single piece of your mother’s belongings, smiling at the bittersweet memories framed in the pictures beside her bed and her personal collection of books with her notes still scribbled in the margins that she read to you from when you were little. You let yourself feel her loss, finally able to accept her absence in your life.

After wiping away your tears, you decided to stop running away and stay here to clean up the store and open its doors to the public again.

That first day, you hadn't even known where to start, simply being able to walk in the store had become an obstacle. There were no clean pathways, and the abandoned store had collected a thick layer of dust over every single open surface. It’s no secret to the regulars that your mother was a commercial hoarder, the old and new inventory all combined to form a stack of mismatched genres and various types of prints. It had been a difficult time, and it still was. 

But you persisted, organizing and cleaning and dusting, repeating the process over and over and over again until you could finally make out the ebony hardwood floors. You had cleared away the antique and expensive books further back in the store and placed the newer books upfront. 

But you couldn’t stay away from baking too long, and to relax from the hours and hours of organizing, you needed to destress in the kitchen with familiar ingredients and smells. Using a combination of the skills you’d picked up from the uptown bakery and your mother’s old recipe books, you started whipping up fresh mini batches of cookies everyday. Then you started to make more complicated recipes, including croissants, brownies, and pastries. 

You wanted to start selling your food in the bookstore as well, thinking it would up the ambience, the smell of bread drawing in customers away from the wholesalers, but you’d sworn to yourself you would organize the mess downstairs completely before you did. And that had been easier said than done. It had been nearly a year, and you only seemed to have made a measly dent in the heavy stock of books. 

Until then, you suppose treating one cute customer for free would do no harm.

Before San’s able to get too far into the book, you skip down the stairs with some slices of your freshly finished spiced gingerbread loaf. 

“Here,” you hand him the plate. “Something to accompany your reading.”

You seemed too nice. And this certainly wasn’t a good business technique; you surely had to be operating on a loss with the amount of treats you’d given him. San would’ve brought this up, even denied your plate of amazing smelling bread, but with the hopeful expression gracing your face, he can’t seem to find any words to say besides a low thanks that he’s not even sure you could hear. 

This book was very different from yesterday. San didn’t even know the main character’s name, but he kept following his story all the way from high school to college to adulthood, from the heat of the Grand Canyon to the freezing cabin in the Arctic circle to the rolling hill stations in the tropics of India. 

In the hours that follow, several customers come and go, but San pays them no mind, reading quietly and snacking on your bread. You watch him read, almost as peacefully as yesterday, with even his large frame swallowed up by your leather couch. 

By happenstance, when he does look up, the sun has set yet again, and the store is empty. He spots you across from him, some aisles down, trying to dust the top of the bookshelves, standing precariously on the tips of your toes yet still unable to reach. He gives Violet a quick scratch before shutting his book and standing to help you. 

“Here, I can help you,” he says, voice gruff from hours of unuse. Startled at his sudden appearance behind you, you’re only able to send him a grateful smile while handing him the duster. 

He takes it wordlessly, throwing you his familiar tight-lipped smile, dimples making a pleasant reappearance. He reaches above you, getting a much cleaner swipe with his height compared to your aimlessly poke around in the hopes to clean something method. 

As he’s cleaning, his sweater rises up, revealing his toned stomach. The sight has you shamelessly staring, wanting to reach out and trace the defined muscles under his skin. 

Suddenly, you hear rampant yelling from across the street. One of the many shady loaning businesses doors fly open, and several angry people walk out. Many of them are cursing out the people inside, while others busy themselves in knocking over the trash cans placed in front of the establishment. 

It’s rowdy for several minutes, and much of the angered crowd walks past your bookstore, still muttering and spewing derogatory phrases back towards the loaning business. Through your window, some of the angered faces even look directly at you, yelling iterations of What, YOU gonna fuck me over, too? 

Instinctively, San rounds your body, blocking the mob’s crowd from you. They soon disappear, quickly turning down the street onto the main roads of the city. 

From behind San’s shoulder, you watch the owner of the loaning business step outside, looking both ways, making absolutely sure that the angered mob has gone while he picks up the remnants of the trash and mess they’ve left behind. 

This would’ve been one of those better times to have cameras handy. There’s no telling what the mass of anger would’ve done to your store had they just been a tad bit more angry. 

But more anger is probably something you don’t want to see, so San reconsiders his words and clears his throat, asking, “I apologize if this is intrusive, but have you considered getting cameras?”

You sigh, watching the loaning business across the street shut their blinds and flip their sign to read CLOSED. “Yeah, I have. It’s just that I haven’t really gotten troublesome customers like that. Everyone that comes in is always typically nice, so it’s never at the top of my priorities.” You turn your back to the window, feeling the stitching underneath your sweater. “And I know I should, what with living right upstairs and all, but I don’t know, I’ve just never gotten around to it.”

“Hmm,” San only hums.   

*****

When you spot him the next day, he waits nervously for you outside the door again, knocking to alert you of his presence, shy and head turned down towards a crumpled brown paper bag in his hands. 

As you move to greet him, he all but shoves the bag into your hands. “I had some extra laying around and thought they’d be of more use to you than rotting away in my garage,” he says, almost defensively. Inside the brown bag, there are 3 wireless security cameras. 

As you rummage through the bag, San desperately hopes you can’t tell that the cameras are newly purchased after all the time he’d spent tirelessly working to scrape off the impossible sticker residue from the boxes. 

But you’re simply too elated. Cameras had been on your to-do list, falling just under cleaning up the inventory, but under just the sheer amount of inventory you had to get through, they’d become a forgotten priority, even after the incident yesterday. 

The notion has you embarrassingly on the verge of tears, and in swift steps, you’re rounding the counter and wrapping your arms around San’s neck in an overwhelmed hug. It has San stumbling backwards before he catches himself. 

As soon as you’re able to breathe in his cologne, you suddenly sober and realize the position you’re in, immediately loosening your hold around his neck. Clearing your throat, you move back around the counter and laser your focus on the cords and instructions associated with the cameras. 

San can feel the blush settle across his face, and he bites his lip, tugging at the skin. He wished he’d hugged you back, but the moment has passed too quickly. He flicks his eyes to you. 

You’re in deep concentration, observing the labels and instructions, your furrowed eyebrows too obvious in exposing your utter confusion. “I can help you set them up,” he offers, scratching the hair at the nape of his neck.

A light drizzle begins to paint your windows when you happily take him up on the offer. He sets up one camera to face the front of the store and register, promising to set up the last one as soon as the rain stops, and in return, you place a copy of Fahrenheit 451 alongside a plate of teddy bear-shaped vanilla oatmeal cookies on your leather couch for him. 

The next day, the rain has yet to let up, but he spots parts of a bookshelf you’ve abandoned in an obscure corner of the store and offers to build it for you, for which you repay him with The Life of Pi and a slice of red velvet cake. 

“I can help you assemble that,” he had said. 

The rain is unceasing, so the day after that, he fixes up the jammed register, for which you repay him with Pachinko and a couple of warm butter croissants. 

“I can help unjam it,” he had said.

Pachinko was longer, it’s story heavier and more expansive than the other books you’d recommended him, and you were sure you wouldn’t be seeing him the next day. 

But he surprises you, knocking on your door as you’re adorning your large Christmas tree with your collection of ornaments, ready to talk about Sunja’s life and Hansu’s decisions in great depth with you. 

“I can help you decorate the tree while we talk,” he had said.

That day, he sits on the floor near the tree with a stack of childrens’ books, a combination of both his and your favorites. 

The next day, he aids you in completing the science fiction section, leaving each and every book on the shelf catalogued and inventoried, and you recommend to him a book of H.G. Wells’ short stories and some muffins. 

“I can help you catalogue those books,” he had said. 

The rain has yet to stop even the day after, San spends the better part of the afternoon assembling Violet’s new cat tower in a quiet corner near the couch. The cat watches him from her perch on the back of the sofa, her tail flicking lazily as if supervising his every move.

“I can help you build that,” he had said. 

Once he tightens the last screw, he steps back to admire his work. Violet wastes no time, leaping gracefully onto the lowest level and sniffing curiously at the new structure. Within moments, she’s sprawled on the top platform, her paws tucked neatly under her chest as she surveys the room like a queen on her throne.

You approach San, holding out a book. “Here’s the first of The Boxcar Children series,” you say with a smile. “Figured you might like something lighthearted after your last read.”

San takes the book, glancing at the cover—a simple illustration of four children standing in front of an old boxcar. He flips it over, reading the back blurb as you settle beside him on the couch, your gaze drifting to Violet.

“You know,” you begin, your voice soft, “Violet’s actually named after one of the siblings in that book.”

San raises a brow, glancing between you and the cat, who is now grooming herself atop the tower. “Really?”

You nod, leaning back slightly. “Yeah. Back when I worked at the bakery uptown, I used to feed the strays that hung around the alley behind the shop. There were always four of them. They sort of reminded me of the Boxcar Children, you know, sticking together, looking out for one another. But there was one cat who was always apprehensive. She was shy, always waiting to eat until I’d walked away. She never came close, never let me touch her, not even once. For the longest time, I thought she didn’t trust me at all.”

San had listened intently, his attention fixed on you. “And yet, she’s here now,” he said, his tone low.

“She’s the only one who followed me when I left,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. “The others stayed behind, but Violet… I don’t know. Maybe she saw something in me that the others didn’t.”

San tilts his head, his eyes softening. “Sounds like she trusted you more than you thought.”

You laugh lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Maybe. I guess I saw a little of myself in her, too. I was a lot like Violet growing up—quiet, keeping to myself, waiting in the background until everyone else had moved on. I think I still am in some ways.” You pause, your cheeks warming slightly. “And, well, we couldn’t have the same name, so… Violet it was.”

Your story trails off with a shrug, and you avoid San’s gaze, feeling suddenly self-conscious. It wasn’t a story you shared often, mostly because it felt silly—meaningless, even. Yet somehow with San, the words had come easily, almost as if the rainy day had coaxed them out of you.

But despite it, out of all the stories you’ve recommended to San so far, he thinks this one is his favorite. 

*****

The next day, with nothing left to build or fix and rain still pouring, you’ve got a book picked out for him before he even comes knocking at the store’s doors. To accompany it, you’d readied a dish of cinnamon rolls that were cooling upstairs. “You look like you would appreciate this,” you say, handing him an untouched copy of Kristopher Jansma’s newest book. 

He scratches his head, suddenly shy. “Actually, I was hoping to read some older stuff? Like stuff from the past?”

Your eyes widen in surprise then very quickly in excitement, and before he knows it, you’ve grabbed the sleeve of his coat jacket and are pulling him towards the back of the store. 

You’re able to dodge the misaligned shelves that jut forward out of practice, but San bumps into everything, sending books tumbling to the floor as his wide shoulders collide with thuds against the wooden shelves. He tries to stop, wanting to pick up the mess he’s leaving in his wake, but you only persist, telling him, “It’s okay, I’ll pick them later. Come on!”

You trudge further and further into the store, the atmosphere cooling even more. Finally, you pull San behind a rather tall bookshelf that he has a bit of a hard time getting through. Nonetheless, he squeezes in and follows you into a makeshift room. Its walls are filled to the brim with books, but unlike the others in the store, these are much larger. 

“This is my special collection,” you tell him, leaning against the mahogany table. “I’ve got archived newspapers, magazines, and journals from all over the city here. Most of these are from libraries in or around the city that have shut down, but I’ve bought a couple of them, too. Oh! Like this one!” You lean forward and grab a book titled “African Jungle Animals”. “This was published in 1937, but it’s got all sorts of information about species classification that’s incorrect by today’s standards, but it’s so easy to get lost in it. Oh!”

You pull out another book, and San listens diligently. Now that he’s not focused on the probable bruising that’s developing on his shoulders, he realizes how close you are. You were so beautiful, and even in the dull light of lamps, your eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm as you grabbed yet another book to show San. 

The realization has his breath catching in his throat. He can smell your sweet perfume and count each of your lashes, and he stills, watching in sheer awe. 

“I really want to get all of these things organized and scanned to put online… I just think there’s someone out there that’s interested in, oh, I don’t know,” you grab a newspaper from the shelf, “recipes from the The Great Depression.”

The bell at the door rings, announcing the arrival of another customer, and you stand at its sound, stacking the pile of books in your hand on the table. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” you say, slinking out of the intimate room. 

San watches you rush towards the customer, and when he can hear your cheery “Hello!”, he turns his attention back to the little room. He notices another lamp in the corner and switches it on, brightening the space a little.

The common disarray that he’d become familiar with at the front of the store welcomed him just as loudly here. He decides to place the stack of books you’d left on the table away in the same general area you’d pulled them out of, and then, with the cleared desk, he begins to thumb through your special collection. There’s a youthful part of him that feels giddy knowing that you’ve welcomed him into your private collection.

San suppresses the feeling, opting to flip through a copy of Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha you’ve left on the desk. He reads through the first couple of pages, pocketing it to take him with him.

Under the book were the brittle pages of a 1950s newspaper that San decided to skim, his fingers careful not to tear the delicate material. The faint smell of aged paper fills the air, grounding him in a moment that feels oddly intimate. As he scans the faded headlines, he finds himself captivated by the glimpse into another time. A world that feels distant and yet eerily familiar. 

The atmosphere in the room is quiet but not silent; faint noises from the store’s main area drift in. The creak of floorboards, your cheerful laugh as you chat with a customer. He exhales slowly, letting himself sink into the calm that this little corner of the store offers. 

It’s then that he spots it: a stack of yellowed newspapers bound together with twine, pushed into the corner of a low shelf. The date on the top page catches his eye, and he pulls it free with deliberate care. As he begins to read, his chest tightens. 

The headline doesn’t scream, but it whispers loudly enough: a failed case, mishandled evidence, and the name of a familiar precinct. He reads further, his heart sinking as the pieces fall into place. This was the case. The one that had haunted the chief for decades, the one that was never spoken of but always loomed in the background of every cautionary warning the chief had ever given him. 

The details are vague, the article careful not to name names, but the tone is damning. The sense of failure bleeds through the words, painting a picture of a situation that spiraled out of control. San sets the paper down, his hands tightening into fists on the edge of the desk. 

He can see it clearly now: the frustration, the mounting pressure, and the breaking point the chief must have reached. It’s too familiar. San had walked dangerously close to that same line himself, and the realization shakes him to his core. 

The sound of your voice filters into the room again, and he takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. This was supposed to be a refuge, a break from the chaos of his thoughts. But now, all he can feel is the weight of his own choices pressing down on him, mirroring the failures of someone he’d once idolized.

San exhales sharply, trying to shake off the tightening grip in his chest. He pushes the newspaper aside, its weight feeling heavier than it should, and picks up another, hoping for something, anything, to pull him away from the spiraling thoughts that have begun to consume him.

He reads aimlessly, flipping through pages of advertisements for long-defunct businesses, stories of local events, and the occasional human-interest piece. The words blur together, their meanings losing shape as his mind drifts back to the headline.

The familiar creak of the floorboards and the soft hum of your voice in the distance remind him of where he is. He forces himself to focus on the present, to absorb the comfort of this quiet corner. He leans back in the chair, letting the low light of the lamp and the rhythmic patter of rain on the roof lull him.

Somewhere between the yellowed pages and the warmth of the room, his eyes grow heavy. He doesn’t notice at first, his grip on the latest newspaper loosening as his body succumbs to the exhaustion he’s carried for weeks.

When closing time comes and passes, you don’t worry about San. You assume he’s lost track of time, so you busy yourself with the usual tasks—dusting shelves, straightening displays, and locking the front door against the persistent rain. The warmth of the bookstore wraps around you like a cocoon, and for a while, it’s enough to stave off concern.

It’s only when the clock inches closer to midnight that unease begins to creep in. You haven’t seen or heard San for hours, and the faint hum of the rain outside feels louder in the growing stillness. Finally, you decide to check on him, your footsteps quiet as you make your way to your private collection.

As you approach, you hear the faint sound of light snores, and your worry eases. Squeezing into the room, you find San slumped over the desk, fast asleep. His head rests awkwardly on his arm, his face half-buried in the sleeve of his turtleneck. A loose strand of hair has fallen from his normally neat style, and Violet, ever the opportunist, has curled up comfortably in his lap, purring softly.

You linger, unwilling to wake him just yet. In the dim light, you take in the quiet details you hadn’t allowed yourself to notice before: the steady rise and fall of his chest, the faint crease between his brows even in sleep, the way his long fingers are splayed over the newspaper he’d left open. But as you watch, his expression begins to change.

The furrow in his brow deepens, and his fingers clenched into fists, the paper crumpling beneath them. He twitches, his breath coming in sharp, uneven huffs. Violet stirs, her ears flicking in annoyance before she hops off his lap, padding to the corner of the room. You hesitate, unsure of what to do, but the sight of his tightening features and restless movements pushes you forward.

Reaching out, you press your thumb gently to the crease in his forehead, smoothing it out with a light, steady touch. You hope your hand feels warm against his skin, soothing enough to pull him from whatever bad dream has its hold on him. For a moment, his expression softens, and you think it’s working.

But then San stirs, his hand shooting up to catch yours before you can pull away. His grip is firm but not harsh, his eyes blinking open, hazy and unfocused as he takes in his surroundings. The surprise on his face sharpens quickly into clarity, and you stand frozen, your heart racing.

“You were having a bad dream,” you blurt out, the words tumbling over each other. “I was just trying to help.”

The realization dawns on him, and he releases your hand, smoothing his palms over his pants as though trying to ground himself. His embarrassment is palpable, but you’re rooted in place, watching as he gathers himself. 

There’s a shift in his demeanor, something you can’t quite put your finger on, but it’s there. It seems as if the walls that had finally been knocked over had been built right back up in a matter of hours. 

Pushing aside the wrenching feeling, you clear your throat. “I’ve made cinnamon rolls,” you offer, your voice quieter now. “If you want some...” You trail off, hoping to diffuse the awkwardness.

San clears his throat as well, finally looking up at you. His voice is low and gruff from sleep as he says, “Yeah, that sounds great. Could I use your restroom first?”

You nod quickly, stepping aside to make room for him to exit. “Yeah, of course. It’s upstairs.”

You lead him up the spiral wire staircase, glancing back to see him rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his movements slow and deliberate. When the bathroom door closes behind him, you exhale heavily, pressing a hand to the arm he’d gripped moments ago.

His touch had been brief, but it lingered, searing into your skin with a quiet intensity that left you flustered.

Shaking the thought away, you turn back to the kitchen and begin packaging some cinnamon rolls in a brown paper bag. The act steadies you, the familiar motions bringing a small sense of calm. 

From inside the bathroom, you can hear the rush of water from your faucet. It runs for several seconds before it's turned off. Silence follows after, as you wait outside for San to come out. 

When an odd number of beats have passed, you step in front of the door, raising your hand to knock, uncertain if you should offer any help. Your hand hovers in the air, the hesitation thick in your chest. You take a shaky breath, steeling yourself to follow through. But before your knuckles can connect with the wood, the door swings open.

San stands inches away, his broad frame filling the doorway, his expression as startled as your own. For a moment, neither of you speaks. The dim light from the room behind him casts his face in shadows, softening the sharp lines of his jaw. The collar of his turtleneck is wet, as is his hair, and the tension in his shoulders speaks of a man caught somewhere between exhaustion and vigilance.

You blink, realizing how close you are, the air between you charged and thin. “I… I was just going to see if you needed anything,” you manage, your voice quieter than intended.

San’s gaze flickers to yours, his dark eyes searching your face for a beat too long before you step back, giving him space to exit. “I’m fine,” he says, though his voice lacks conviction. He clears his throat.

The room feels warmer now, though the silence is anything but comforting. San stands a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his posture rigid despite the quiet setting. “The rain’s finally stopped. I could put that last camera up,” he says, turning away from you. One look out the window tells you that it in fact has not stopped, turning instead into snow. But San walks toward the staircase, deciding not to turn around.  

“That’s okay. It’s late anyways, you can do it tomorrow,” you say, as he continues down the stairs. “You should just stay the night.”

Now that has him stopping. 

You take the opportunity to get in front of him, braving him directly in his eyes. “The weather’s getting pretty bad, I mean. And it’s the least I can do, you know, with all the stuff you’ve helped me with around here…” your confidence tapers off at San’s silence.

For a moment, San doesn’t move, caught between the weight of your words and the storm raging inside him. His lips press together, a faint tremor betraying the steadiness he’s trying so hard to maintain. You can see it all—confusion, longing, fear—all warring for dominance in his dark eyes. His gaze flickers to yours, then away, as if the intensity of your sincerity is too much to bear. The silence between you stretches thin, heavy with everything unspoken, until he finally inhales sharply, the sound breaking the tension like a fragile thread snapping under pressure. 

His hand twitches at his side, like he’s debating whether to reach for you or push you away, but ultimately, he takes a step back, distancing himself from the decision he doesn’t want to make, and continues towards the door. The bell above the door jingles sharply as he pushes it open, the cold air rushing in to meet the warmth of the store. 

You stand frozen for a moment, watching as the snow swirls around him, clinging to his dark coat and dampening his neat hair. He doesn’t look back, his shoulders hunched against the biting wind, but you can see the tension in every step he takes. 

Your chest tightens, and before you even realize it, you’re moving. Grabbing the umbrella from its place by the counter, you rush to the door and step into the frame, your voice soft but firm as you call after him. “San, wait—take this.” You hold the umbrella out toward him, your hand trembling in the cold, hoping he’ll take it, hoping he’ll stop.

San turns around, desperately hoping that in the blur of the rain you can’t see how much he wants to walk back into the bookstore and kiss you. He brings his hands up to the forehead, shielding his eyes from the numbing downpour. 

You want him to come back inside, to protect him from the freezing rain, but his expression is stoic, similar to the day when he first walked into your store, so biting back your words, you hold out your umbrella for him to take. 

San doesn’t take the umbrella. He just stares at it for a moment, his lips parting as if to say something, but nothing comes. Instead, he exhales sharply and looks away, his jaw tightening.

“You don’t have to do this,” he mutters. “You don’t have to be so nice. You don’t have to feed me and entertain me because I’m lonely. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

You step closer, the umbrella still outstretched, trembling slightly in your hand. You’re unable to say anything back, the bitter sadness of his words catching you off guard. 

But San only continues with a barely audible laugh. He shakes his head, melted snow droplets flicking from his damp hair. “You don’t get it. You think I’m this... decent guy, just because I’ve fixed a few things around here and kept you company when no one else did. But I’m not. I’ve done things—things that would make you look at me differently if you knew. And I don’t think I can handle seeing that look in your eyes.”

“Then tell me,” you say, your voice steady even though your heart is pounding. “Tell me whatever you think would scare me off, because I’m standing here, San. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.”

He finally meets your gaze, and the weight in his eyes makes your breath catch. For a moment, it feels like he might. Like he might let you in, lay everything bare, and give you the truth you’re asking for. But then his walls go back up, and he shakes his head again.

“I can’t stay,” he says, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “Not because I don’t want to—but because I do. And that’s the problem.”

“San—”

“I’m sorry.”

Before you can stop him, he turns and steps out into the snow. The umbrella slips from your fingers, falling uselessly to the ground as you watch him walk away, his figure disappearing into the swirling white.

You take a shaky breath, the cold biting at your skin. A part of you wants to run after him, to drag him back inside and make him see what you see in him. But another part of you knows that he won’t let you. Not yet anyways.

So instead, you pick up the umbrella, close the door, and wait. For the storm to pass, and maybe, just maybe, for him to find his way back.

*****

The next day, San comes back, though he tells himself it’s only to return the copy of Siddhartha he’d absentmindedly shoved into his pocket the night before. His steps are brisk as he approaches your bookstore, his thoughts a tangled mix of excuses and denials about why he’s here again.

He pushes the door open, and the faint chime of the bell feels oddly comforting. But what catches him off guard is the sight of you, bundled up in a thick jacket, a scarf wound tightly around your neck, and gloves covering your hands. Your nose is sniffling as you greet him with a shy, “Hi,” shocked to even see him back.

“Hey,” he replies, holding up the book. “I forgot I had this with me.”

You wave off his explanation, already stepping aside to let him in. “Don’t worry about it. Come in, it's freezing out there.”

San steps inside, and immediately the cold hits him. The store is far chillier than it had been the previous day, and he raises an eyebrow as you rub your gloved hands together for warmth.

“The storm blew out the power last night on the whole street,” you explain, motioning toward the darkened corners of the store. “So it’s a bit chilly in here. I’ve been trying to get the fire going, but…” You trail off, gesturing toward the old fireplace nestled near the back of the store. The pile of wood inside sits stubbornly unlit, a faint trace of smoke lingering in the air from your earlier attempts.

San glances at the fireplace, then back at you. He hesitates for a moment, then says the words you’ve been hoping to hear: “I can help you fix that.”

Relief floods your body, and you’ve done every time before, you accept his help.

The day stretches on, and San stays. Despite his insistence that he wouldn’t linger, he finds himself caught up in the small tasks you offer him to help keep the store running smoothly in the absence of power. Together, you rearrange shelves closer to the windows to take advantage of the fading daylight, and he even helps you move a heavy display table that you’ve been meaning to shift for weeks.

By late afternoon, the fires, both in the store and our apartment upstairs, finally roar to life, and the once-chilly bookstore begins to fill with a gentle, enveloping warmth. You can’t help but smile as you watch San step back, wiping his hands on his coat, the flickering flames casting a soft glow across his features.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice filled with genuine gratitude.

He only smiles, his lips tight and his dimples making a rare appearance.

As the sun sets and the firelight grows more prominent, the atmosphere in the store shifts. The usual hum of conversation fades, leaving behind a quiet that feels heavy, almost charged. You busy yourself with other tasks like straightening a pile of books here, brushing imaginary dust off a counter there, but your eyes keep drifting back to San, who sits near the fire, intently watching over the dancing flames, making sure they don’t go out.

He seems lost in thought, his usual guarded demeanor softened in the flickering light. You wonder what’s running through his mind but don’t dare to ask. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s not quite comfortable either. It’s something else entirely, something that feels fragile and electric all at once.

As the clock nears closing time, you glance outside at the snow-covered street. The storm has finally calmed, but the icy wind still howls faintly against the windows. You turn back to San, who seems reluctant to move, his posture stiffening as if preparing to leave.

“You should warm up a bit before you head out,” you say suddenly, the words tumbling out before you can second-guess yourself. “You’ve been helping me all day. At least let me make you some tea or coffee?”

San looks at you, surprise flickering in his dark eyes. For a moment, you think he’ll refuse like he did yesterday, his lips parting to offer an excuse. But then he nods, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. “Tea would be good.”

“Great,” you smile, trying to mask the relief that floods through you.

The power outage had left the bookstore bathed in a warm, flickering glow. You’d pulled out every candle you could find—short pillars, tea lights, and a few mismatched taper candles. They were scattered across the shelves and counters, their soft light dancing on the walls and casting long shadows.

As you made your way up to prepare tea for San, you grabbed an extra candle and holder from a shelf. When San sees you juggling the items, he silently takes the candle from you, following behind with it held high to light your path.

“I can manage,” you said lightly, but he only shook his head, staying close as you climbed the spiral staircase.

The kitchen was dark and drafty, the windows rattling faintly from the lingering wind outside. Aside from the orange hues of the fireplace upstairs, the single candle San held provided the only light in the kitchen, the flame trembling as you set about filling the kettle. You moved to the stove, fumbling slightly in the dimness as you reached for the tea tins on the counter.

“Hold it closer?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at San. He stepped forward without a word, bringing the candle nearer to the workspace.

But as you reached for the tea, the candle tilted slightly in his hand, and a small drip of molten wax landed on the back of your hand. You flinched instinctively, gasping at the hot sensation the wax leaves behind.

San’s eyes widened, and he set the candle down on the counter, grabbing your wrist gently. “Are you okay? Let me see,” he said, his voice low but filled with concern.

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, though your voice wavered. It had felt good. You turned your hand over, the faint red mark already beginning to cool. “These are made of paraffin, so it’s… it’s all good,” you added awkwardly.

San didn’t seem convinced, his brows furrowed as he inspected your hand. “You’re sure?”

“See?” You ran your fingers over the reddened skin where the wax had fallen, showing him there was no lasting damage. “All good,” you confirmed.

Only then did he release your wrist, though his worry didn’t completely fade. His fingers brushed against yours briefly as he pulled away, leaving a warmth that lingered longer than the sting of the wax.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“Don’t be,” you replied with a soft smile, trying to ease his discomfort. “It’s just a little wax. I’ve survived worse.”

The kettle began to whistle, breaking the charged silence between you. You turned back to the stove, busying yourself with pouring the steaming water into two mugs. San picked up the candle again, holding it steady this time as he stepped back to give you space.

When you turned around with the mugs in hand, he was watching you closely, his expression unreadable in the flickering light. For a moment, you thought about saying something, anything, to bridge the tension that had settled between you. 

But instead, you simply handed him one of the mugs and sat on the rug in front of the fireplace.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his fingers brushing yours as he took the cup, sitting with crossed legs beside you.

The material of the rug is soft and holds the heat from the fireplace well. As San sits in front of the fireplace, the tufts of fur tickle his skin, and suddenly he feels shy about the events from yesterday.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low but steady. “About last night…”

You blinked, startled by the suddenness of his words. “San—”

“No, let me just—” He cut you off, his words tumbling out faster now, like he’d been holding them back for far too long. “I shouldn’t have left like that. It wasn’t fair to you. I just… I needed to clear my head. I didn’t mean to make you feel like—like I was angry or—” He stopped, groaning softly, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration. “God, I’m terrible at this.”

“San—” you tried again, but he kept going, his voice growing more flustered.

“I mean, I didn’t even explain. I just walked out like some kind of idiot, and you were trying to help, and I—”

You couldn’t take it anymore. Turning abruptly, you put your mug down and turn to him, your heart pounding in your chest. Before he could ramble another word, you leaned in closer, cupping his face with your hands.

His eyes widen impossibly, and before he’s able to back away from you, you thumb the skin of his cheek carefully and tug him into you, lips colliding messily. You kiss him like you’ve wanted to since the moment he walked into your store, hungrily yet timidly, waiting for him to reciprocate, but San’s in a state of shock. 

He’s stuck in limbo, the selfish part of him wanting to kiss you back so desperately and the decent part of him knowing he’s not at all good for you. He lost his temper too quickly and most of the time, he thought he was better than his coworkers. Chief had told him so himself. He should stop this. 

Yet, when you start pulling away, the selfish part of him screams out in pain, his heart begging and thrashing against his rib cages to listen to himself for once. And so losing all lapse of judgement, he pulls you right back into him. 

You gasp in surprise, happy to know he wants you as much as you want him and shy at his rough hands at your waist. He pulls you towards him more at the impatient realization that you were too far away, growing more unhappy with the distance, and you let him, leaning into his eager touch. 

San’s mouth moves over yours hungrily, his tongue delving deep to taste you. With a whimper, you arch into him, one hand in his hair and the other fisting his shirt. You kiss him back just as desperately, the days of pent-up longing fueling you.

You kiss until you’re both breathless, only breaking apart to frantically yank at each other’s tops. Buttons fly and fabrics tear in your haste to get rid of the material in your way, and soon, you’re his lap again, both of you stripped naked, chests heaving as your eyes lock, darkened with desire. 

San’s eyes flick down your exposed boobs, your nipples hardened, and without hesitation, he takes one into his mouth and grips the other with his hand, swirling his tongue over your sensitive buds. Your fingers wrap around his bicep as he sucks and licks until you’re writhing in his hold. He moves between one boob to another, cupping them together, running his tongue along the valley before suckling each nipple in turn. 

You’re squirming at the feeling, when suddenly he’s slowing down, his hold on your loosening. 

“Why’d you stop?” you all but whine. Following his line of vision, you land on the melting candle. Much of the wax has now dripped onto the base of the holder, collecting in creams pools on your countertop. 

“Nothing, next time,” is all he says, before he’s sucking at your breasts again. 

Next time? You felt yourself physically grow wetter at the thought, wanting selfishly to have more of him, and so, you grow tired of San’s slow movements at your boobs and push at his chest. 

He reluctantly backs away, and in the light of the fireplace, you see his cheeks have grown impossibly red and the blacks of his irises are completely dilated with lust. You push him down until he’s laying flat against your rug and watch the crackling orange and yellow of the fireplace cast shadows across his chiseled abdomen. 

Brazenly, you trace your hands along the lines of his body, starting at his neck. Underneath your fingertips you can feel the quick thumping of his heart. Next, your hands travel to his pecks, slowing them to thumb his nipples. San shudders at the touch, jolting, following the way your own eyes have grown black like his. 

At his nudge, you’re moved further up his body, now sitting squarely on his toned abs. The hardened muscles bring an immeasurable relief to your neglected and embarrassingly wet pussy, and you inadvertently start moving your hips against them. 

Unabashedly, you start riding him, grinding your bare pussy against the defined ridges of his muscles. Your arousal is too apparent, juices coating his stomach, making it glisten in the golden hue of the fireplace. 

San groans at the sight, his cock straining against the material of his pants. He watches you through half-lidded eyes as you chase your orgasm with your head thrown back in pleasure. 

“Sannie,” you whine quietly, prompting him to tighten his core, his grip around your legs pushing you further onto him. You gasp at the change in rigidity, emboldened to grind harder, hips moving in quick circles. Your climax was rapidly building, and your legs had begun to shake. 

“Sannie, I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, feeling your body tense. 

“It’s okay, love,” San says, voice urgent and low. “Cum for me.”

Love. The word, uttered so sweetly from his lips, pushes you over the edge. Your pussy spasms, and you cry his name out over and over again, grinding yourself mercilessly against him as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

Suddenly, watching you come down from your orgasm, San feels parched. The way you smell, the way you feel, it all feels overwhelmingly good. He looks at you with open admiration, drinking in the sight of you lost in rapture. He zeroes in on the mess you’ve left on his stomach. 

When you open your eyes, you spot San’s bottom lip tucked lightly between his teeth. His adam’s apple bobs at your release that’s smeared across his stomach, and his grip on your thighs tightens, wrapping around them, nudging you up towards his mouth. You’ve yet to even fully recover from your previous orgasm, but you find yourself slowly moving upwards, thoughtless.

“Come here,” he begs. “Please, please, come here.” And so you do, carefully moving up his chest and stopping to hover right above his face. “Please,” he begs of you again with a hungry tenderness in his eyes and with that, you sit. 

Immediately, you want to double over in pleasure as San moans against your pussy at the contact while his eyes flutter shut at your weight and taste. But you stay still, fingers coming to tangle themselves in San’s strands of hair while he mumbles incoherent words into you, kissing you reverently, lips soft and warm against your delicate skin. 

It takes a few moments for San to find his rhythm, lost in himself as your scent surrounds him. His hands which were laying flat over your thighs have moved up, knuckles growing white as he roughly grips the flesh of your ass, ensuring that you don’t have any chance to move away from him. 

You gasp at the gentle contact, your body tingling with need. You settle fully on his face and feel his stubble lightly abrading your inner thighs as he opens his mouth, licking a thick stripe into you, deeply humming at your flavor, sending vibrations up your core. He laps at your essence with long, slow strokes, savoring you, worshipping you, alternating between soft and firm licks.

With both hands tangled in his hair, you rock gently against him, guided by his tongue. You whimper and writhe over him, feeling the taut pull of rope threatening to snap inside your stomach. 

As your whines grow louder, San redoubles his efforts, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue and drawing to his mouth to suck then switching to rapidly flicking your swollen bud. His strong hands dig into her hips, holding her steady as he continues to eat you out ravishingly. Of the mumble that was escaping his lips, the one thing you were able to catch loud and clear was a husky repetition of, “Cum for me.”

With a drawn out cry, you do just that, pussy clamping down and pulsing around San’s tongue. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you as he continues to lap at you, gentling his touch as you float down from your high. 

When your shudders finally subside, he lifts you off of him, delicately laying you down on the soft, white fuzz of your rug. Before he can get too far, you pull him down into you, tasting yourself on his lips. 

You felt wrecked with the back to back orgasms, and surely, there was no way you could handle another. Yet, when he pulls away, “Please,” is all you ask of him.

And San obliges with a groan, the head of his thick cock nudging against your slick entrance. With one slow, steady push, he pushes himself inside you, filling you so completely. “You’re so beautiful. Fuck, you feel incredible,” he rasps, beginning to move.

You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper as you start to rock your hips against his, but San has other plans, taking hold of the underside of your thigh, pushing them back and effectively folding you in half. There’s sweat collecting on his brow that drips into the valley between your breasts and you brokenly moan at the feeling. 

As you clamp around him, San picks up the pace, driving into you with deep, powerful thrusts. The headboard slams against the wall with the force of his movements, the room filling with the sounds of skin slapping and breathy moans. 

“Louder," he growls. "I want to hear you, love. Please,” he begs of you.

"Fuck!" you cry out, your head thrashing against your rug as the pleasure builds to a crest. You can feel your release approaching rapidly, your pussy clenching around his pistoning cock. The intensity reaches a fever pitch as you rock against each other, skin glistening with sweat in the firelight. His breath comes in ragged gasps as he feels your silken walls fluttering around his aching cock. “Don't stop,” you begs, nails raking down his arms. “Please, Sannie, I'm so close,” you whine.

He reaches down between your bodies, finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles around it. “Cum for me, baby,” he commands for the third time that night, his voice rough with desire.

His words are your undoing and with a sharp cry of completion, you shatter beneath him, your pussy gushing around his cock as you spurt your release. He groans deeply, hips jerking as he follows you over the edge, emptying himself inside you with a few final, deep thrusts.

And you’re not sure what it is, but you don’t stop there despite the burn in your thighs. Insatiable, the two of you keep going, until San has to replace the firewood in the dimming fireplace. 

When he finally has to leave, he promises to come back. 

And he does. 

Even after he’d returned to work at the precinct, he began to show up more often—not always with a reason, and not always needing one. 

Sometimes he’d sit by the fire with a book you’d chosen for him, his quiet presence filling the store in a way that felt grounding. Other times, he’d help you organize shelves or tinker with small repairs, his hands steady as yours danced nervously around his.

One snowy afternoon, in the aftermath of another blizzard, the world outside was left blanketed in white. The sun filtered through the windows, its pale light reflecting off the snow and illuminating the bookstore in a way that felt almost magical. San was by the fireplace, his fingers running idly along the spine of a book as he watched you rearrange a display near the counter.

“You’re going to run out of books to organize,” he teased, his voice warm and teasing.

You glanced over your shoulder, laughing softly. “Not with this inventory, trust me. I’ll be at it until I’m eighty.”

San’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Well, I guess I’ll have to stick around to help.”

You paused, the words catching you off guard in the best way. Turning to face him fully, you tilted your head, studying the sincerity in his expression. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, his gaze steady.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the fire cast long shadows across the store, San stood by the counter, tugging his coat on. He looked at you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it, and something in his eyes made your heart swell.

“I think I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said, almost shyly, though you both knew it wasn’t a question.

Author's Note II: What did you guys think? Please leave a comment or reblog, it always helps to see what people think, even if it's a keyboard smash or emojis lol. Anyways, thanks again for 700 followers, much love <333

taglist: @chngbnwf , @brown88 , @kyuna-21

[a-tiny-thing]

Where's ur masterlist

i dont have a masterlist sadly 😞

[a-tiny-thing]

"ATEEZ as POKÉMON GYM LEADERS"

song playing: ATEEZ - New World

I've been playing Pokemon Scarlet on my brother's Nintendo Switch this Christmas break and I wanted to share my ideas if ATEEZ became Pokémon Gym Leaders and what type will they be ^_^

In Aurora Region, there are 8 cities that you'll have to go to and challenge the gym leaders there. You, determined to be the Pokémon League champion, have to go through them and collect all 8 gym badges in order for you to join the Pokémon League.

PS: don't come at me for the names of the cities mentioned here, I know it's not remotely close to being a city or geographically accurate but I just used them because they're somewhat related to birthplaces of ATEEZ and I can't think of any names for cities ;-;

JONGHO (Normal-type Gym Leader 🌫)

The Normal Guy

• You'll see him chilling under a tree when you first go into his city.

• "Hi, I'm Jongho and welcome to Ilsan city" and you'll think he's just a random person there.

• He will also ask you if you came there to challenge the gym leader, and you say yes then he will say "good luck" to you before leaving to somewhere important.

• When he left, you went straight to the Gym center to go challenge the gym leader there.

• The Gym center receptionist will register as a gym challenger and says that he will put through a gym test first before the gym battle.

• Gym Test: Catch 30 apples falling from a tree within a time limit 💀 (don't worry, you'll pass!)

• After that, you can now go back and battle the gym leader.

• As the receptionist led you to the battle court, you were surprised to see Jongho. The person you first met, he is the gym leader of the Normal-Type gym!

• He smiled at your reaction. "I bet you didn't expect a normal guy like me to be the gym leader here in our area"

• "Don't think that Normal-type Pokémons are weak! They're effective to any type and can easily beat you"

• You both battle as he brings out Eevee, Staravia, Sawsbuck and Usaring (Teralized form) in that order.

• "Huh...didn't expect you to be THAT good" he says after you defeat him and you receive the gym badge.

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YEOSANG (Fairy-type Gym Leader)

The Mad Hatter

• As you travel to the next city for the next gym battle, you'll come across a man having a garden tea party with his Fairy-type Pokémons.

• "Oh, you must be Y/N. Jongho talked about you before, you must be here for a gym battle. Let me introduce myself then, my name is Yeosang, and I'm the gym leader of the Fairy-type gym here in Pohang City"

• He will lead you to the Pokémon Gym Center so you both can start the battle.

• But before that, he decided to put you through a gym test first!

• Gym Test: Find the missing Clefairy! (you'll have to find Clefairy three times around the city)

• After you passed the test, you can now challenge Yeosang in a gym battle.

• "Don't let these cute Pokémons fool you!" he says as he brings out Jigglypuff, Sylveon, Azumarill and Florges (Teralized Form).

• "I thought their cuteness will bring me to victory" he sulks after you defeated him, and he gives you the gym badge.

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YUNHO (Water-type Gym Leader)

The Gwangju Lifeguard

• When entering the next city, you were amazed by the ocean view there.

• You went straight to the direction of the Pokémon gym center of Gwangju City.

• When you arrived there, you thought you entered the wrong place because of the large indoor swimming pool in the middle.

• "Welcome to Gwangju Swimming School! Are you here to sign up for some swimming classes?" A lifeguard asked, using a megaphone to speak to you clearly since he's from the other side of the swimming pool and up into his high seat.

• When you said you're actually there to challenge the gym leader, he put down his megaphone and made his way towards you.

• "Oh, another gym challenger I see! Well, my name is Yunho, a lifeguard, swimming teacher and the Water-type gym leader of Gwangju City gym! May I know the name of the challenger who wants to face me?"

• You two conversed a little about how he started his own swimming school when suddenly, he thought of an idea of a gym test he'll put through.

• Gym Test: Win a swimming race against Yunho!

• When you won, the swimming pool suddenly turned into a battle court, but it's still a pool because he has water-type Pokémons, while you get a floatie for your non-water type Pokémons.

• "Hakuna Matata!" Yunho shouted before bringing out Vaporeon, Wartortle, Golduck and Samurott (Teralized Form)

• "Not only you're a great swimmer, but a great Pokémon trainer too!" he says with a smile as he gives you your gym badge for beating him.

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WOOYOUNG (Dark-type Gym Leader)

The Scary Powerful

• For some reason, you arrived in the next city at night time, you suddenly feel the chills going down your spine at how creepy the city looks.

• There are not much people living there, and the Pokémon Gym center looks old and abandoned, but you knew that it's not because your professor said that that's just how it looks like.

• When you entered the Gym center, the interior looks nothing like the past gym centers you've been to, it's spooky like it's still Halloween season.

• "Hello, are you here to face the Gym leader?" The receptionist asked, they look tired as hell like they didn't get any sleep.

• "Don't be scared, this place is just surrounded by Ghost Pokémons who love to pull pranks on people like us, that's why I don't get any sleep. Also, the interior design of this place was decorated by the gym leader Wooyoung because he wants to be scary" the receptionist added as a random person hiding behind the counter pops out.

• "You didn't have to expose me like that!" the random person said, you assumed it to be Wooyoung.

• "Anyway, I'm Wooyoung, the Dark-type gym leader here in Gyeonggi City. However, your gym challenge request against me has been denied since you haven't tried to pass the gym test yet" He said with his arms crossed and smirks when he reveals your gym test.

• Gym Test: Try to escape the "Haunted Escape Room" within a limited time (you were told that it's the most difficult test you have yet to pass in your journey, some gym challengers were stuck there and couldn't find their way out, you soon encounter them inside there and they challenge you to a Pokémon battle)

• When you escaped and beat the time limit, he was already there on front of you. "Huh? How is that possible? Hmm...well done I guess. I think it's now time for your harder test!" Wooyoung said as he now accepts your gym battle.

• He brings out Skuntank, Umbreon, Absol and Gengar (Teralized Form)

• "Aww, I guess I'm not that scary powerful gym leader I told myself I am" Wooyoung sighed as he gives me my gym badge after you defeated him.

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MINGI (Steel-type Gym Leader)

The Hard-Headed

• Soon you arrived to Incheon City, you immediately walked towards the Pokémon gym center to face the gym leader. You walked towards the gym center receptionist to register you as a challenger.

• "Okay, I now registered you as the next challenger against Mingi, the Steel-type gym leader of Incheon city Pokémon gym! But uhhh, I might need you to wait for a while until he comes back hehe..." The receptionist said as he rubs his neck in embarrassment.

• Of course, you asked where Mingi went and why he couldn't be there at his city to face his upcoming gym challengers.

• "Well you see, Mingi is like his Pokémons, hard-headed. He couldn't stay in one place and wants to roam around the cities in this whole region. The challengers who came here without Mingi have to move on forward to challenge other gym leaders and come back another time when Mingi's finally present. But since you asked where he went, I heard he went to a tea party" The receptionist said.

• Tea party? hmm ah! Yeosang's garden tea party! "I guess you could make that as a gym test instead..." The receptionist added.

• Gym Test: Find Mingi.

• So you traveled all the way back to Pohang City to see Mingi. And there he is. Chatting with Yeosang while having some tea.

• "uhh, who are you?" Mingi asked when he saw you.

• "Oh, that's Y/N! Y/N's here to challenge you in a gym battle, Mingi. You were not in the Incheon city when they arrived so Y/N went to go find you" Yeosang explained.

• "Ahh, I see. Well then, I think this tea party is over because I have an important business to attend to" Mingi said as he stood up from his seat and led you back to Incheon city Pokémon gym center.

• "Since you came looking for me, consider that gym test to be done. Now, prepare yourself for a hard battle against me!" Mingi exclaimed as he brings out Pawniard, Scizor, Bronzong and Steelix (Teralized Form).

• "Ah, you are too good. Someone finally broke through my hard shell" He says as he handed you the gym badge. Also, you actually never noticed that there's a Glaceon beside him.

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

SAN (Fighting-type Gym Leader)

The Taekwondo Master

• Time has passed and you're 3 gyms away from entering that Pokémon League. Namhae City is your next stop.

• Namhae Pokémon gym center isn't exactly far away, with just 6 six blinks of your eyes. You're finally there.

• "Hello, I'm Y/N, I would like to register as a gym challenger please" You said to the receptionist.

• When they're done with it, they told you that San, the Fighting-type gym leader, is currently at his own Taekwondo class in another building. The receptionist led you to it.

• "Focus everyone!" A man shouted in the center of the room as you entered the Taekwondo School. Young students in white uniforms and belts continue to kick up the air with loud grunts escaping their mouths.

• "Oh, a new student!" The man said when he saw you walk towards them. "Are you going to join my Taekwondo classes?" He asked, but you shook your head no.

• "Huh? Why- ohh I see...you're here to challenge me". You nodded at his words. "In a Taekwondo match?" San suddenly asked and you quickly shook your no.

• "No! I'm here for the Pokémon gym badge!" You said to him. "I know, I'm just messing with you" He smiles, and you can't even see his eyes anymore.

• Since you're already registered, San told you the gym test right away.

• Gym Test: Participate in San's Taekwondo class (and so you did, you trained hard to perfect your kicks and impress him and he was. When the class is over, he considered your gym test to be done and you passed)

• "You did well today Y/N. Now let me give you that gym battle that you always wanted. Care to watch us battle, students?" San asks his students and they all said yes.

• Soon, you all are back in the Pokémon Gym Center, the battle court has a similar interior with his Taekwondo School.

• "I always go easy on people who are first-timers in Taekwondo. But not when it comes to gym challengers" He brought out his Pokémons which are Makuhita, Hitmonlee, Pangoro, and Blaziken (Teralized Form).

• "It seems like I went too easy on you, huh?" He jokes, as he handed you the gym badge.

• "Oh and before you go, I want to know if you would care to battle me again. This time, I'm using my Flareon!" He asked you and you nodded at him.

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

HONGJOONG (Electric-type Gym Leader)

The Electrifying Rockstar

• San actually decided to accompany you and guide you to Anyang City where the next gym leader is located. He told you everything you have to know about Hongjoong, the "Electrifying Rockstar of Anyang City"

• "He's some sort of a magician, he can make his Pokémons attack just by playing some certain rhythms on his electric guitar"

• As soon as you two arrived there, people suddenly started screaming in excitement and rushed towards the direction of the Pokémon gym center.

• San asked one of the passerbys what's going on, "Hongjoong is having a concert right now! We need to go!" The passerby said as he ran off.

• You both eventually get there soon to see him, the arena was huge and the seats were filled with people, they're waving up their hands to get noticed by him.

• "Now, for my next song, I want to do something a little special today!" The performer, or Hongjoong, said to the mic, glancing at people who were waiting for him to talk more.

• "Times like this, you have to go look for his manager to register you as his challenger" San whispered to you and so you both go look for them, and you find them soon.

• "As the Electrifying gym leader of Anyang City, I would like to offer a gym battle to any of you brave enough to step right up to me– oh, they found one already" Hongjoong says as he glances down at you as his manager presented you to him.

• "Forget about the gym tests, let's see if you have what it takes to face me!" He shouted before he brings out Jolteon, Luxray, Magnevire, and Magnezone (Teralized Form)

• It's one of the hardest battles you'll go through but you can manage it.

• "That was....electrifying!" Hongjoong said, as his audience celebrated your victory against him.

• You didn't get to receive your gym badge mid-performance, but you patiently waited for his concert to end.

• "You did so well in that battle earlier. I'm hoping I can battle with you again soon, oh and...here's your gym badge" Hongjoong smiles at you as he hands you your gym badge.

• "Oh and I heard the next gym will be your final stop before entering the Pokémon League championship. I just want you to know that I'm rooting for you"

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

SEONGHWA (Psychic-type Gym Leader)

The Mysterious Botanist

• San has to say goodbye to you since he still has to teach Taekwondo to his students. You're left alone now but you still managed tk find your way towards the Jinju City.

• Of course, you make your way towards the Pokémon gym center to face the gym leader there.

• The receptionist registered you as a gym challenger, before nodding at you and moving away towards a certain painting on the wall. They suddenly removed it and revealed a button, then pressed.

• The interior suddenly morphs into a garden, no— a greenhouse!

• Bug and Grass-type Pokémons are seen flying and hanging around the plants. Flowers beginning to bloom.

• "Y/N right?" You heard someone asked as you turned around to see who it is. Nonetheless, you nodded at his question.

• He must be the gym leader.

• "Yup. you're right. I'm Seonghwa, the Psychic-type gym leader of Jinju City" He said as he puts his hands inside the pockets of his pants.

• "I've heard so many good things about you, hopefully, there were right about you..." Seonghwa as he went to other side of the greenhouse, facing you.

• "Before we start this battle, how about we go through our little tradition first, shall we?"

• Gym Test: Mr. Mime Charades! (you have what Mr. Mimes was mimicking, don't worry, Seonghwa can give clues if it gets too difficult for you)

• After you're done passing the test, Seonghwa will congratulate you for passing it.

• "I'm impressed, now let's see if you can also impress me in a gym battle" Seonghwa smirks as he brings out Farigiraf, Espeon, Gardevoir and Alakazam (Teralized Form)

• "This is your last gym badge, so I won't make it easy for you"

• Another hardest battle you have to win, and of course you win.

• "Ah, I supposed they were correct about you after all" Seonghwa smiles at you and brought out the last gym badge to give it to you.

• "Good luck on your journey defeating the Elite Four and the last year's Pokémon League Champion, my friends and I will be there to celebrate your victory"

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

When you're finally the new Pokémon League champion, the Aurora region gym leaders decided to plan a tea party celebration for you. They all congratulated you for your victory.

"So what's next for you, Y/N?" Hongjoong asked as he sips his tea. The rest of the group looks at you, waiting for an answer.

[a-tiny-thing]

Familiar Stranger. || Kim Hongjoong.

Summary: you and hongjoong have known each other for over 20 years now. growing up side by side, graduating, marrying and having your own family was tough, but kim hongjoong had always been a constant in your life. now, in your late 30s, you suddenly find yourself divorced, and hongjoong’s wife just left him as well. your children are devastated, and for the sake of keeping them occupied, you try to urge them to spend much time with each other on a holiday trip. but what happens if things change? what happens if suddenly, you develop feelings for a man you considered nothing but a friend your whole life?

Pairing: kim hongjoong x reader

Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, angst if you squint, smut (mdni)

Wordcount: 24.2k

Warnings: both reader and hj are in their late 30s, minseo & yena are around 14 and hanbin around 9, chubby!reader (though it isnt really mentioned until the smut part) mentions of emotional partner abuse and cheating, child neglect (kinda?) body insecurities, body worship, fingering, sex toys, use of pet names, oral (m. & f. receiving) if I missed smth pls lmk!

A/N: i am not happy with this fic (i even cried a little tbh i spent so much time on it and unfortunately just really really dislike it now) and towards the end, it gets pretty rushed and i want to apologize for that, i just got really frustrated. its also not proof read which will probably be very visible rip. now onto the important part tho: hello @owlbeforesunset, i was your secret santa for @cromernet! i really hope you like this even if its super messy sksksksk and im wishing you the best christmas ever!! may you and your loved ones be happy and healthy forever <33 as always divider credits to @firefly-graphics! Edit: since im dumb i forgot to add the playlist i made specifically for this fic. its the first time i made smth like this so i hope you all enjoy <33

Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf

Available here on AO3.

April, 2003.

Heavy rain pelted against the windows. It was loud and distracting, but you tried your best to focus on the task at hand: getting dressed in your sexiest outfit ever.

God, how excited you were. Your first ever party!

You grabbed the black tank top from the pile on your bed, biting your lip as you held it up. It was cropped, barely grazing your waist, and you'd never actually worn it out. But tonight was different. You wanted to stand out, feel a little bolder today. You slipped it over your head, adjusting the straps until it sat just right, revealing just enough to feel sexy but still comfortable.

Next, you reached for your favorite skirt - a dark denim piece that you usually reserved for special occasions. It hit mid-thigh, shorter than anything you usually wore. You turned left and right in front of the mirror, checking the whole look with a grin, feeling that sweet buzz of excitement stir within you.

Today, you were feeling rebellious, and you thanked the heavens that your parents weren't home to see that side of you.

After a quick swipe of lip gloss and a final tousle of your hair, you stepped back to take in the full outfit. This was new, a little edgy, but it was exactly how you wanted to show up tonight.

And then, you heard a car honk outside.

Three times, to be exact. 

It told you that Hongjoong had arrived to pick you up.

You grabbed your coat and dashed outside, leaping from the front porch to avoid the small puddles pooling on the driveway. The cold rain splattered down, but it did nothing to cool down the rush of excitement as you ran towards Hongjoong's car.

As soon as you reached it, he leaned over to unlock the door, his eyes widening as he noticed you through the rain. You quickly pulled the door open and slid into the passenger seat, the warm interior pulling a happy sigh from your lips. Without thinking, you then stood up halfway in the seat, turning to give him a full view of your outfit. You did a quick spin, showing off the crop top and skirt, a big, proud smile practically glued to your face.

“Well?” You laughed, tilting your head at him.

He blinked, visibly taken aback, and then grinned in that lopsided, mischievous way of his. “Damn, look at you!” he said, dragging his gaze over you with obvious approval in his eyes. “That’s exactly the look. You look perfect! He will definitely notice you now!”

“And she will definitely notice you too!”

She was the girl who had captured his attention since the first day of school. And as much as you wanted to tease him about that hopeless crush of his, you found yourself rooting for him. He really liked her, and it was kind of cute to see your best friend so head over heels in love. “You’re going to knock her off her feet, Hongjoong. Look at you!”

Kim Hongjoong looked as stunning and unique as always. Tonight, he'd gone for an avant-garde vibe, somehow mixing and layering pieces that should've clashed but just��� worked. He wore a dark, oversized blazer with bold white stitching tracing down its seams, a design you knew he’d likely stitched himself. Underneath, he wore a fitted, high-neck black shirt that hugged his frame, and chains draped across his chest in varying lengths. The pants he wore were his own design as well - fitted and flared at the bottom, with artful rips along the thighs revealing hints of his skinny, toned legs beneath. He’d accessorized with rings on nearly every finger, a thick cuff around his wrist, and one of his trademark berets, tilted slightly to the side.

And then, his favorite touch: eyeliner, just enough to make his eyes dark and intense, while still looking like the nice and approachable boy you knew him as.

All in all: your best friend looked as stunning as always.

You couldn’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach as you caught his gaze lingering on you as well. Outside, the rain was steady, streaking the windows as the car drove through the streets.

“So, what’s your plan tonight?” he asked. “Besides making him notice you, of course.”

“Maybe dance. Maybe get him in my bed,” you said with a smirk, earning an exaggerated grimace from Hongjoong.

“Ugh. Spare me the details.”

You both laughed, and you elbowed him playfully as he drove through the streets.

The drive stretched on, the rain creating a soothing pitter-patter against the windows. The streetlights you passed were illuminating Hongjoong’s sharp features perfectly as you looked at him. You couldn’t help but watch him for a moment, appreciating the pretty man your best friend had become over the years.

“Well,” you said, breaking the silence, “what about you? Big plans tonight?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his lips twitching into a soft smile. “You know, if she shows up.”

“Oh, she’ll be there,” you teased, poking his arm. “She's at every party. Plus you’ve been talking about her all week. She’d be insane not to notice you tonight.”

He glanced at you briefly, his smile turning a bit shy. “I hope so. But hey, even if she doesn’t… tonight’s about having fun. About us, okay? Let's just try and have a good time anyways.”

“Agreed,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “Let’s make this the best night ever.”

He nodded, his grin widening. “Deal.”

He pulled up to the venue after another few minutes. As you both stepped out into the rain, the cold droplets hit your heated skin as you raced to the entrance, and you laughed as you arrived first. 

Once you opened the heavy door together, the atmosphere inside immediately enveloped fully. The sound of music echoed through the air, and the whole crowd pulsed with energy. You spotted familiar faces, friends and acquaintances already dancing and chatting, and your heart raced with excitement. This was it.

“Okay,” Hongjoong said, leaning in closer so you could hear him over the music. “Let’s try not to get separated. Want a drink?”

“Sure,” you replied. You could barely hear your own voice over the thumping bass of the music. You tugged at his sleeve to pull him toward the makeshift bar set up in the corner of the room. A string of colorful lights hung over your heads, casting shifting hues of red and blue across the room and its people. The whole place smelled of sweat, too much perfume, and a faint trace of spilled beer and vomit.

Hongjoong weaved through the crowd effortlessly, his small frame slipping between clusters of people like a ghost. You followed closely, clutching your purse harder to avoid hitting any strangers.

When you finally reached the bar, Hongjoong leaned in close to your ear again. “What’s your poison of choice tonight? Beer? Something stronger?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, tapping your chin theatrically. “Surprise me,” you said, flashing him a grin.

His brows arched playfully, and he turned to flag down the guy working the bar - a classmate you vaguely recognized but didn’t know well. After a brief exchange, Hongjoong handed you a plastic cup filled with something neon pink and fizzy.

“Taste test,” he prompted, watching your reaction closely as you took a cautious sip.

The drink was sweet, with just enough of a bite to remind you it was still alcoholic. You licked your lips, nodding in approval. “Not bad. What is it?”

He smirked. “No idea. Just told him to make it fun.”

You laughed, raising the cup in a mock toast. “To fun, then.”

“To fun,” he echoed, clinking his own drink against yours before taking a big sip.

The two of you leaned back against the bar, scanning the room and taking it all in. It was packed, the dance floor a mass of sweaty bodies against bodies illuminated by the cheap neon light. You spotted a few more familiar faces but didn’t immediately see the person you were hoping to impress tonight.

“See him yet?” Hongjoong asked, his gaze flicking toward you.

You shook your head, feeling slightly disappointed. “Not yet. You?”

He scanned the room again, his eyes lingering near a group of girls huddled together by the DJ booth. When he looked back at you, his grin was wide and genuine. “She’s here.”

Your brows shot up. “Where?”

He gestured subtly with his chin, and you followed his gaze. Sure enough, there she was - wearing a sleek black dress that clung to her in all the right ways, her head thrown back in laughter as she chatted with her friends.

“She looks amazing,” you said honestly, nudging him. “Go talk to her.”

Hongjoong hesitated, biting his lip. “Not yet. Need a little more liquid courage first.”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your drink. “Fine, but don’t chicken out, okay? Tonight’s your night.”

“And yours,” he reminded you, bumping your shoulder lightly.

“Damn right,” you said, your confidence starting to show by the alcohol starting to settle warmly in your veins.

The music shifted then. Instead of the slow song that played when you two got here, it now switched to a faster pop-song that made the room errupt in cheers. Hongjoong turned to you, his eyes sparkling.

“Dance floor?” he asked.

“Hell yes,” you replied without hesitation, grabbing his hand and leading him toward the mass of people.

The moment you stepped onto the dance floor, the music seemed to consume you entirely. You let yourself sway to the beat, your earlier nerves melting away completely. Hongjoong danced beside you, his movements fluid as always. At least one of you could dance. Unfortunately, it definitely wasn't you.

At some point, you caught sight of him watching you. He stood near the edge of the crowd, a solo cup in one hand, his eyes fixed squarely on you.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Joong,” you hissed, tugging on his sleeve. “He’s looking at me!”

Hongjoong followed your gaze, a grin splitting across his face. “Told you he wouldn’t be able to resist. Go say hi!”

“I can’t just walk up to him,” you said, your voice a little panicked.

“Yes, you can. Trust me, you look amazing. He’s already hooked.”

You hesitated, your feet rooted in place despite the music urging you to move.

Hongjoong gave you a gentle shove in his direction. “Go! I’ll be here if you need a rescue mission.”

Shooting your best friend one last look, you smoothed down your skirt, drew in a steadying breath, and walked toward him, heart pounding with each step. His dark eyes locked onto yours almost immediately, a lazy smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he tipped his cup slightly in acknowledgment.

“Hey,” you greeted, trying to sound casual despite the adrenaline rushing through you.

“Hey yourself,” he replied smoothly. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

His name was Jang Hyunwoo, a senior just a year above you and Hongjoong. Known for his devastating good looks, he was every girl's dream and you were not immune to him. At all. In fact, the first time you saw him, it felt like the world narrowed to just… him. 

You still remembered it. 

He was leaning against the chain-link fence outside school, cigarette hanging loosely from his fingers, dark eyes unreadable beneath heavy lashes. He’d glanced up, meeting your gaze with a look so piercing it made your heart skip a beat or two.

“Got a light?” he’d asked, voice low and lazy.

You didn’t even smoke, but you found yourself fumbling for a lighter borrowed from a friend. His fingers brushed yours as he took it, lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken.

From that moment, you were hooked. He was magnetic in a way that felt dangerous - intense and so, so unreachable. But when he looked at you like that, like you were the only thing that mattered… it was impossible not to fall. 

From that day on, Jung Hyunwoo became your addiction. 

And right now, his tall frame leaned against the wall with an effortless confidence, a single silver chain glinting against the black of his fitted shirt. He radiated that dangerous allure you just couldn’t seem to resist.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Thought I’d check it out.”

His eyes traced over you slowly, appreciatively. “You definitely made the right call.”

Your cheeks heated, but before you could respond, you noticed someone approaching Hongjoong out of the corner of your eye. She practically slithered up to him, wrapping an arm possessively around his waist.

Kang Minji.

She was stunning, really, with long, glossy hair and an effortless sense of style that made her look straight out of a magazine. But there was something else you noticed about here. Something in the sharpness of her gaze, the way her perfectly manicured nails dug into Hongjoong’s side just a little too firmly, sent a chill down your spine. And you did not even understand why.

“Joongie,” she cooed, tilting her head in mock surprise. “Didn’t think you’d make it tonight.”

Hongjoong’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered, offering her a charming, yet shy grin. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

You watched as Minji’s eyes flicked to you, quickly looking you up and down, before returning to Hongjoong as though you weren’t even there. Something about the possessiveness in her expression made you immediately feel uneasy.

You thought about saying something to Hongjoong, about warning him - there was something weird about her, about the way her smile never quite reached her eyes when she looked at him. But just as quickly as the thought surfaced, you shoved it down. After all, your own situation wasn’t exactly better, was it?

Hyunwoo’s fingers pressed firmly into your waist, his touch feeling equal parts thrilling and dangerous. His gaze held yours with that familiar intensity, sharp and consuming, leaving no room for second-guessing.

Who were you to judge Hongjoong when you were just as caught up in someone toxic you couldn’t seem to quit?

So, you said nothing. You let the thought dissolve, swallowed by the pounding bass and the heat of Hyunwoo’s hand still holding you close.

“So, you two know each other?” Hyunwoo’s voice drew your attention back to him.

“Yeah, Joong’s my best friend,” you explained, smiling despite the tension forming between you four. “We came together.”

Hyunwoo’s smirk widened, and his grip around you tightened. “Interesting.”

Before you could decipher his meaning, Minji’s laugh rang out, sharp and so… wrong. “Best friend, huh? That’s cute.”

Her words felt like a subtle warning, though you couldn’t quite place why. Hongjoong’s expression shifted, discomfort flashing in his dark eyes, but he said nothing.

“Dance with me,” Hyunwoo suggested, pulling your focus back. His gaze was intense, daring you to say no.

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Okay.”

The music was so loud as Hyunwoo pulled you onto the dance floor. His grip on your waist was firm, guiding you effortlessly through all the sweaty bodies. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his intense gaze never leaving yours as the world blurred into a haze of flashing lights and unrecognizable sounds.

He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You okay?” he asked, voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, breath hitching as his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against your waist. His touch burned through the thin fabric of your shirt, making your skin tingle with anticipation. He smelled like spice and something else equally addictive - the perfect blend of danger and temptation.

Before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed against yours, hard and demanding. His hand tangled in your hair while the other stayed on your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. You gasped into the kiss, overwhelmed but unable to stop yourself from further melting into him.

The intensity of it all left you breathless. He dominated you so effortlessly, pressing hard into every movement, every touch. You barely registered the crowd around you anymore, the dance floor fading into the background as you clung to him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His lips were warm and insistent, tasting faintly of the drink he’d been having earlier.

For a quick second, a flicker of anxiety flooded your chest, but before you could pull away, your gaze drifted past Hyunwoo’s shoulder - and froze.

There, against the far wall, you saw Hongjoong. His back was pressed against the worn brick, his hands tangled possessively in Minji’s hair as she kissed him hard and without any mercy. Her body was pressed against his, leaving no room for air between them. His eyes were closed, completely lost in the heat of the moment.

Something inside you twisted sharply, equal parts jealousy and defiance. If Hongjoong could do it, lose himself like that… why couldn’t you?

Your fingers tightened around Hyunwoo’s shirt as you surged forward in a sudden boost of confidence, matching his intensity with a newfound determination that even surprised yourself. If this was how the night was going to go, then you wouldn’t hold back. Not anymore.

Hyunwoo groaned against your lips, clearly pleased by your sudden boldness. His hands roamed freely now, sliding down your back to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the hard press of his body against yours, his need unmistakable and intoxicating.

Your nails raked down his chest, earning a hiss of approval from him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your knees tremble. His control was absolute, his touch possessive, as though staking a claim that he had no intention of releasing.

And for now, you let him. You surrendered to it all, the reckless, thrilling haze, pushing down every lingering thought of Hongjoong and Minji. Tonight, you’d let yourself go - consequences be damned.

“Wanna go upstairs?”

“H-huh?”

You didn’t even notice you had moved, too consumed by his mouth and hands everywhere, but as you opened your eyes again, he was standing at the bottom of a dimly lit staircase, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous, something you couldn’t quite name. “Come on,” he coaxed, voice low and hoarse. “It’s too loud out here.”

The way he said it sounded reasonable, almost thoughtful - because he was right, it was way, way too loud in here - but the way his hand lingered on your waist told a different story. His touch was too sure, too expectant as if a no from you wasn't even a question. 

Your gaze darted around the room, searching for any sign of Hongjoong. He’d always been your anchor in situations like this - your safe space. But he was nowhere in sight. Your stomach twisted as you recalled the way Minji had pulled him into the shadows, her grip just as firm as Hyunwoo’s was now.

He’s fine, you told yourself. He wanted this. He chose this.

So why did you suddenly feel so… alone?

“I- maybe we should stay down here,” you suggested hesitantly, voice trembling despite your attempt to sound casual. “We could… get another drink?”

Hyunwoo’s expression darkened ever so slightly, a flicker of irritation flashing through his gaze before he smoothed it over with a practiced smile. “You nervous?” he asked, stepping closer until your back pressed against the wall. His voice was soft now, almost tender. “I’m not gonna hurt you, baby.”

The pet name sent an involuntary shiver down your spine - not from endearment, but from the way it felt like a trap snapping shut around you. And you, like the prey you were, stepped right into it.

His fingers brushed along your jaw, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Did you? You weren’t sure anymore.

His thumb traced slow circles against your cheek, deceptively gentle. “We’ve been dancing around this for months… You know you want this too.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse thrumming wildly beneath his touch. He was too close, his presence overwhelming, suffocating - but intoxicating in the worst way. Every instinct told you to push him away, to leave - but then you thought about Hongjoong, likely wrapped up in Minji somewhere upstairs, completely consumed by her.

Hyunwoo’s lips brushed against your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Just you and me,” he whispered, his voice a dangerous promise. “No one else matters tonight.”

And then, you finally gave in. He quickly grabbed you and searched for an empty room upstairs, and as the door clicked shut behind you, sealing you inside the dim, quiet room, you couldn’t shake the haunting certainty that neither you nor Hongjoong would leave this night the same - both now bound to people who would ruin you in ways you were only beginning to understand years later.

August, 2024.

It was late when your shift finally ended.

You walked into the house, the door giving squeaking like always as you stepped inside. Silence was all you were greeted with when you closed the front door behind you. You kicked off your shoes by the door and set your bag down on the counter, your gaze lingering on the empty kitchen. It had been a while since you truly noticed the quiet - or since you were involuntarily forced to.

It was late, and you were tired; it was the kind of exhaustion that seeped into your bones after a long day of work, and the weight of your thoughts felt even heavier now that you were home.

You hadn’t expected to feel this way even after the divorce, but the ache was still there, lingering. For the longest time, you'd convinced yourself it was all manageable - that it would get better, that you could make it work.

But now, standing in the middle of the house that once held the warmth and laughter of a family, you couldn’t deny the truth any longer.

Your marriage to Hyunwoo had been tiring and oh so toxic, and it all actually started the day you two had met. It was easy to look back now and see the signs - the subtle ways he began to change over the years, the evergrowing distance between you two. He’d started out so passionate about you and your whole relationship. But after the children came, or maybe even before, things shifted. His kindness faded into passive aggression, and then to blatant cruelty in the smallest, quietest ways.

At first, you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t that bad. After all, there were still moments that felt like the old him - the laughter over dinner, the rare but sweet gestures. But those moments became fewer and fewer, and the weight of his silence began to feel heavier than anything else.

You had learned to shut down, to bite your tongue, to keep the peace - all for the sake of your children. You didn’t want them to see the cracks. You didn’t want them to know that the man you married, the man they adored, was also the one who’d made you feel small, insignificant, and alone in your own home.

You’d stayed for them - for Minseo and Hanbin - hoping, wishing, that somehow you could protect them from it all.

It had been easier to stay. Easier to pretend that things were fine. But somewhere along the way, you stopped lying to yourself. The emotional abuse had become too much to ignore.

You had loved him once. So deeply that the idea of leaving him seemed impossible, even when your soul and entire being felt suffocated by his cruelty. But one day, you woke up to the reality that you couldn’t keep living like that - not for yourself, not for your children.

The divorce had been your only choice, even if it felt like it would destroy everything you had built.

You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning against the counter, remembering those last weeks of you and Hyunwoo together - how every conversation felt like a battle, how every attempt at talking about it was met with denial, with anger.

And now, here you were. No more pretending. No more covering up. You had taken that step, for yourself and for your children, even if they couldn’t understand it yet.

A sigh escaped you as you shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away. You had a family to focus on, children who needed you.

But sometimes, even now, the silence of this house felt like a heavy reminder of everything you had lost - and everything you still had to rebuild very slowly and carefully.

“Where have you been?” 

You stood in the doorway, the exhaustion from the long shift still weighing you down as you noticed Minseo’s presence in the living room. Her face was half-lit by the soft glow of her phone screen. She didn’t even look up when you entered.

“Hey, sorry sweetie,” you said, trying to sound as normal as possible, trying to hide how tired you were. “A coworker got sick, and I had to take over her shift.”

Minseo didn’t respond immediately, her eyes glued to the phone, her thumb scrolling lazily across the screen. The silence between you stretched out uncomfortably.

You waited, half-expecting some kind of acknowledgment, but she remained absorbed in her own world. The way she looked at you - or rather, didn’t look at you - felt like a sharp reminder of how far apart the two of you were drifting.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, not sure what to do. Normally, she would’ve greeted you with at least a half-hearted "Hi" or some sort of remark, but today, there was nothing. Just the quiet thrum of the phone as she typed.

You forced a smile, trying to bridge the gap. “How was your day?”

Nothing. Minseo didn’t even acknowledge you. Her eyes stayed on her phone, lips pressed into a thin line. The absence of the usual warmth in her voice made the silence so much louder, and it hit you harder than anything else. She wasn’t just quiet tonight. She was actively shutting you out.

You cleared your throat softly, trying again. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“Mm-hmm,” Minseo murmured, not bothering to look up. Her response was clipped, as though she was only offering the bare minimum of interaction required. You could feel the coldness seeping into the space between you.

You stood there, your hands hanging awkwardly by your sides, unsure how to proceed. The room felt heavy, and the quiet seemed so much louder with her refusal to meet your gaze. You didn’t know what you’d done wrong, only that something was different now. Something had changed, and it hurt more than you were ready to admit.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” you said, the words barely escaping your throat.

You turned toward the kitchen, sighing and not expecting anything else out of your daughter tonight. But then: “Hanbin’s crying, by the way.”

Your heart clenched at the mention of your son’s name, and you quickly turned to face Minseo, who was still engrossed in her phone.

“Why? What happened?!” you asked, your voice a little more urgent now.

Minseo didn't look up, her fingers still scrolling across the screen. “He tried calling Dad again. And... I guess he’s not picking up.” Her words came out flat, emotionless, as if she was just telling you about the weather today. 

You felt a pang in your chest at the thought of Hanbin, still too small to fully grasp the situation. All he wanted was to reach out to his father, to talk to him just like he always did. It was something you had feared - the growing distance between Hyunwoo and the kids. It wasn’t just that he had stopped being the man you married, but now his absence had begun to seep into their lives too.

You didn’t say anything immediately. Instead, you let out a long sigh and walked toward the stairs, your legs feeling heavier and heavier with each step. 

You hadn’t even realized how scared you were of this happening. But now, standing in the hallway at the foot of Hanbin’s door, you couldn’t run from it any longer.

You knocked gently. “Hanbin?”

A faint, muffled sob reached your ears from inside. Your stomach twisted at the sound.

The door creaked open, and you found him curled up on his bed, his small body trembling with each sob. His phone was clenched tightly in his hands, the screen still lit up, but there were no new messages, no notifications. Just an unanswered call to his father.

Your heart broke all over again as you knelt beside him. “Hey, buddy,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his back gently. “What happened?”

Hanbin wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve, his little eyes red and puffy from all the crying. “Dad... he didn’t answer,” he sniffled, his voice cracking. “He promised. He said he would talk to me every day... but he didn’t. I don’t know what I did wrong…”

You almost started crying too. How could you explain this to him? How could you make him understand that this was something that wasn’t his fault, but that there was also nothing you could do to change it?

You sat down next to him, pulling him into a tight embrace, feeling his small body shake with every sob. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Hanbin. It’s not your fault.”

“I want to talk to him. Why doesn’t he want to talk to me, mommy?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. The words hit you harder than anything else he could have said.

You gently rocked him back and forth, trying to find the right words, but you knew that nothing would take away your son's pain.

You wanted so badly to make everything better for him, to explain it in a way that would help him understand. But it was all too complicated, and you didn't know if a 9 year old like him could already understand.

“Hey,” you said softly, pulling back a little to look into his tear-streaked face. “Maybe you can tell me about your day, okay? I’d love to hear about it.”

He sniffled, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. His wide eyes met yours for a moment before dropping to the bed. “You’re not daddy,” he muttered. “I can't talk to you about everything I talk to him...”

Your heart broke a little more. He was right. You weren’t his father. You couldn’t fix this for him. But you weren’t going to let him think that you didn’t care, either.

“You're right,” you said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “I’m not daddy. But I do care about you. I care about everything you’re feeling right now.”

Hanbin sniffled again, his face scrunching up as though he was trying to hold it all together. "But it’s not the same," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I just want to talk to him."

You didn’t know what to say. The silence that followed felt heavy, and you just continued to quietly hold him against you. The words hovered in the air between you, but you had no answers. You knew that Hanbin needed his father - he needed a male figure who understood him, someone who was supposed to be there for him.

But there was another thought that nagged at the back of your mind. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he could talk to someone else. Someone who could listen. Someone who understood, even if it wasn’t his father.

“Hanbin,” you said, your voice quiet but firm, “what if you talked to Uncle Hongjoong instead? You know he’s always there for you.”

The idea hung in the air for a moment, and Hanbin’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, a flicker of hope in his gaze. But then he shook his head slowly.

“I don’t want to,” he mumbled, turning his face away, staring at the wall as though it could somehow block out everything else. "He’s not... not dad."

It hit you harder than you expected - the realization that even Hongjoong, someone who had been a part of your family for so long, couldn’t replace the hole that Hyunwoo had left. Hanbin had known him since birth, had shared so many memories with him, yet in that moment, he wanted no one else but Hyunwoo. Not even Hongjoong whom he usually adored so much.

“I know, buddy,” you whispered, pulling him into your arms again, wishing you could somehow make it all go away. “I get it. But you don’t have to be alone with this. We’re all here for you, okay? You can always talk to me, even if I’m not daddy.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything more. His small body trembled a little less, but the sadness still lingered of course. You wished there was a way to make it magically disappear, but unfortunately, you were just a human with no such power.

You held him there for a while, neither of you saying anything. You didn’t need to.

Finally, Hanbin pulled back slightly, wiping his eyes and looking up at you. “Can we try calling dad again tomorrow?”

You nodded, even though you knew that it was unlikely anything would change. “Of course, we can. We’ll try again.”

You gently wiped away the last of Hanbin’s tears and let out a soft sigh. 

“How about you go to bed now, hm?” you asked softly, brushing the damp hair from his forehead. “Don't you have your math test tomorrow?”

Hanbin sniffled and nodded. “Yeah, I guess. But... what if I don't do good?”

You smiled faintly, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “You're going to do great. You always do, Hanbin. You're so smart. I believe in you.”

His eyes glimmered with a small trace of hope at your words, and he gave you a weak nod, though the uncertainty still lingered in his gaze.

“Okay,” he muttered, still sounding unsure, but he allowed you to tuck him in nonetheless. 

“And hey,” you added, your voice soft but warm, “I'll make you your favorite breakfast tomorrow, okay? Pancakes, right?”

Hanbin’s eyes lightened up at the mention of pancakes, and despite the lingering sadness on his face, he offered you a small, tired smile. “Thanks, mommy.”

Your heart clenched a little, but you smiled back, brushing a hand through his messy hair one last time before standing up from the side of his bed.

“Goodnight, sweetie. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Hanbin whispered, closing his eyes as he settled further into his blankets.

By the time you made your way back downstairs, Minseo had already retreated back to her room. Her door was closed, and the only thing indicating she was still awake was the soft music coming from her phone. 

You wanted so badly to knock and wish her a goodnight, but you knew not to push your luck. For now, all you could do was respect her space.

And so, you stepped outside onto the front porch, the cool night air brushing against your face. The whole neighbourhood was silent, and only a few streetlights lit up the street. As your gaze swept over the yard, your eyes landed on the porch next door and onto the man sitting there. 

Kim Hongjoong. 

He looked different, though. His shoulders were slightly slumped, as if the weight of something heavy rested on them. His hair, always so carefully styled, had grown a little longer, falling messily across his forehead. He wore a black hoodie and a pair of dark jeans, his hands tucked into the pockets, his expression unreadable. Even in the dim light, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the lines of stress that hadn’t been there before.

The sight of him like this hurt. You'd always admired Hongjoong for his energy, his fire, his passion about even the smallest things, but tonight, he looked... broken.

You hesitated for a moment before walking over to his porch. “Hey,” you called softly, not wanting to startle him.

He looked up at you, and the corner of his lips curled into a faint, almost sad smile. “Hey. Didn’t expect you to be out this late.”

You gave a small shrug. “Had a long shift. The kids are okay for now, so I thought I’d get some air.”

He nodded, glancing at the empty space beside him. “Wanna join me?”

You stepped up, taking a seat next to him, the familiar creak of the old wood beneath you a reminder of how many times you'd sat here before, talking, laughing, even crying. It used to be different. You used to talk about everything, and you could always count on him to make things feel a little lighter, a little more bearable.

But tonight, there was an awkward tension between you two, the kind that comes from years of shared history and sudden distance. The silence stretched for a while, neither of you willing to break it, both lost in your own thoughts.

Finally, Hongjoong spoke, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “How are things... at home?”

You glanced at him, unsure whether to give him a real answer. But then you realized that maybe, just for tonight, you should. For your own sake. “It’s been hard. Minseo’s shutting me out more than usual, and Hanbin... he’s not doing too good either. He tried calling Hyunwoo again. No answer, of course.”

Hongjoong sighed, his gaze turning to the distant streetlights. “I’m sorry, I know that’s got to be tough. For you and the kids.”

You nodded, looking down at your hands. “It’s so… silent. I thought it was just my own imagination... but I feel it in the house. Even with Minseo, there’s this distance. And Hanbin - he’s still holding onto the idea that things are okay between him and Hyunwoo. It’s breaking my heart because I have no idea how to tell him that his dad seemingly decided to cut all contact.”

“It feels like someone's trying to rip my heart out,” you continued, your voice a little shaky now. “He still believes that things will go back to normal. Every time he calls his dad and gets no answer, I see the hurt in his eyes. I don’t know how to fix that for him, Hongjoong. He’s just a little boy.”

Hongjoong shifted slightly, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knees. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Trying to shield them from the things they shouldn’t have to know.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I don’t want them to feel like this. Minseo, she’s... she’s different now, too. Now that Hyunwoo left… I don’t know how to reach her anymore.”

“Minseo’s at that age, too, you know. The teens are hard. But I can tell you, she’s just needs a little time. It’s hard for them to see the people they love… change into something they don’t recognize.”

You let out a soft sigh and nodded, but the ache for your kids didn’t let up. “She’s always been so strong, but it’s like she’s holding everything in. I wish I could break through... But she's shutting me out.”

Hongjoong shifted his weight, his body a little tense as though he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to begin. You glanced over at him, and for a moment, his eyes met yours, a soft understanding in them.

"I know what you're going through," he said quietly. "I know it all too well." He paused, and you could hear him take a deep breath. "Minji... she left me."

Your heart skipped a beat. You turned to him, eyes wide with shock. “W-what? Hongjoong, I-”

“She cheated,” he said, his voice shaking slightly, his hand gripping his knee even tighter. “She left me for another man... a rich one, apparently. Someone she’d been seeing behind my back.” His eyes were distant, haunted, as if the words themselves were still too raw, too surreal for him to fully grasp. “I didn’t see it coming. It... it hurt more than I thought it would.”

You couldn’t find the right words to say. You knew Minji had been distant in the months leading up to their split, but this? You never imagined it would be something like this. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, trying to comfort him, though you knew words couldn’t heal the wound he was feeling.

“I’m so sorry, Hongjoong. I had no idea…”

He nodded, letting out a deep breath. “I didn’t either. She had been so cold, so... unreachable. But I never thought it would end like this. And... that's not even the worst part. Yena, she… she was the one who caught them.”

“She what? Oh, God, Yena… how did she...”

Hongjoong let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “She walked in on them. Just like that. She saw her mom with him, saw them together in our own home. I don't know how much she really understands, but I... I can't even imagine what that must’ve done to her. She was so angry, but also so sad, and I couldn't even find the words to comfort her. I don't know how to fix this for her, either. I don't know how to make any of this better.”

You felt a sickening tightness in your stomachas the horror of Yena’s situation began to sink in. A child should never have to witness something like that, let alone process the reality that their own mother had been unfaithful.

“Yena must be so hurt... she must feel so betrayed. What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was hold her, and... and try to assure her that it wasn’t her fault. But the thing is, it felt like she was losing more than just her mother. It felt like she was losing both of us. She’s so confused, and I don’t know what to do for her. I can't just tell her it’s all going to be okay. It's not okay. It’s not even close.”

You could hear the anguish in Hongjoong's voice, and the weight of his pain was so tangible, it felt like it had pressed down onto your chest as well. He had always been the person others turned to for support - strong, dependable, someone who had always been a rock for those around him. But now, it seemed like the rock was breaking.

“I'm so sorry, Hongjoong,” you murmured again, unsure what else you could offer. You couldn't even imagine how hard this was for him. The hurt in his voice mirrored the same kind of sorrow you felt for your own family, and you both sat there for a while, not needing to say anything more. You both understood loss. You both understood the feeling of your whole world crashing down.

“What do we do now, Joongie? For the kids?”

Hongjoong looked down at his hands, fingers fidgeting in his lap as he took a deep breath, processing your question. For a long moment, there was only the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant honking of cars.

“What do we do now?” he muttered to himself, clearly frustrated. “I honestly don’t know, but… the kids... they need us, and we can’t keep letting them feel like they’re alone in this.”

“Well, summer break is coming up,” you said slowly, trying to organize your thoughts. “Maybe... maybe we could do something together? Like, take their minds off everything for a while. There’s still a lot we can do, right? Something to help them feel... normal.”

Hongjoong’s gaze lifted to meet yours, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. We could take them on some trips. Give them a change of scenery, get away from all this... stuff. I mean, Yena’s been asking about going to the lake house again. Maybe we could take the kids somewhere like that.”

You smiled at the idea. Hanbin, too, had always loved that same lake house. It could be the escape they needed. Maybe even Minseo, despite her recent moodiness, would open up if she had the right distractions.

“Yeah, that could be good,” you agreed. “Maybe a trip to the lake. And we could do some other things too - like go to an amusement park or the zoo. Somewhere fun, where they can just be kids. It won’t fix everything, but it might give them a chance to breathe.”

Hongjoong nodded, his eyes glowing with a bit more energy than before. “Exactly! A little fun, a little time away from home. Get them excited for the summer, make some good memories.”

“We’ll plan a whole summer week of distractions, then,” you said, giving him a small smile. “We’ll give them something to look forward to.”

Hongjoong’s smile widened slightly, and he gave a short laugh. “Sounds like a plan then!”

“But... there might be a small problem, Joongie. Minseo and Yena... aren't exactly friends.”

And just like that, his smile faltered for a second, his brows furrowing as he processed your words. He let out a soft sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in thought.

“I… didn’t think about that,” he admitted quietly. “They're still not on speaking terms?”

You shook your head, a tired sigh escaping you. “No, they aren't. I don’t know if it’s their personalities or something else, but they don’t exactly mesh well. And with everything that’s been going on lately… I’m worried it might be worse.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, staring at the ground for a moment as he thought. “That’s... going to be tricky. I don’t want them to feel like they have to spend time together if they’re not comfortable, but at the same time, it’s hard to separate them if we’re all supposed to be spending time together.”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “I don’t want to force them into anything, but it’s going to be hard to plan activities that make everyone happy if we don’t at least try to get them to work things out.” You paused, tapping your fingers lightly on the armrest of the chair. “Maybe we could start small? Give them a chance to build something on their own terms.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly. “Yeah... We could try easing them into it. Maybe not throw them into some big group thing right away. Let them have some time to get used to the idea of spending time together again, but without forcing it.” He looked at you, a hint of concern in his eyes. “It’s going to be awkward, though. I know Minseo’s been distant with Yena for a while now.”

“Yeah, Minseo’s been pulling away, and Yena - well, no offense - she's not exactly the type to try and fix things on her own. I don’t know if she even knows how to handle Minseo's recent temper,” you admitted, your voice softening. “But maybe... maybe this summer could be a chance to get them to at least try. They don’t have to be best friends overnight, but if we give them the space to reconnect, they might surprise us.”

Hongjoong exhaled deeply, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his knee. “You’re right. Maybe it’s just a matter of giving them time. We don’t have to rush anything, and if they’re not ready, we can adjust. But if they’re going to be in the same place a lot this summer, we might have to come up with some ground rules to keep things... civil.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Ground rules, huh? Like no biting each other’s heads off every time they disagree?”

Hongjoong’s lips formed a small grin. “Something like that. We’ll avoid any forced bonding, but also make sure they understand our time together might help them, too. No matter how awkward it gets, they have to remember they’re in this together for now.”

You tilted your head, a teasing glint sparking in your eyes. “Think we should draw up a contract? ‘No screaming matches, no storming off, and definitely no threatening to run away after every argument.’”

Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head. “Knowing Minseo and Yena, they’d probably negotiate harsher terms for us.”

You laughed, feeling a bit of the tension ease. “God, we're doomed.”

“Completely,” he agreed, grinning. “But at least we go down fighting.”

“Mom, when are we there?” Hanbin whined from the back seat, his small legs swinging restlessly as he kicked the seat in front of him.

“Soon, sweetheart,” you replied patiently, twisting in your seat to glance back at him. “We’ve only got about an hour left.”

Before you could settle back in, a sharp voice cut through the air.

“Minseo, stop hogging the armrest!” Yena snapped, shoving Minseo’s elbow aside.

“Oh, please! You’ve been leaning on me this whole time,” Minseo shot back, eyes flashing.

You sighed, already feeling a headache forming. “Girls, enough. We’re going to be stuck in this car for at least another hour, please try to keep it together until then!” 

Neither of them seemed particularly thrilled at the idea but begrudgingly muttered, “Fine.”

Settling back into your seat, you exhaled once again. Your gaze drifted toward Hongjoong, who had his hands steady on the wheel, his expression focused but relaxed, chuckling slightly. The sunlight filtering through the windshield caught the sharp line of his jaw, highlighting features you hadn’t allowed yourself to notice in a long time.

Huh... you thought absently, he really hasn’t changed much... except somehow he looks even better now.

Time had been remarkably kind to Hongjoong - if anything, age had sharpened his features in a way that made him look even more striking. The soft crinkles at the corners of his eyes only added depth to his good looks, and the streaks of silver in his dark hair gave him an air of effortless charm.

You caught yourself staring and quickly looked away, clearing your throat. Focus, you reminded yourself. We’re just co-parenting this trip… it's just Hongjoong, for fuck’s sake! You've known him for over 20 years now!

Shaking off the thought as quickly as it came, you turned back toward the kids. “Alright, how about we play a game? Something to keep us all from losing our minds before we get there.”

Hanbin perked up immediately, his eyes lighting up. “I wanna play I Spy!” he announced eagerly.

Minseo groaned dramatically. “That game’s so boring...”

Yena crossed her arms. “It’s better than sitting here in awkward silence.”

Before your daughter could snap back, Hongjoong’s voice chimed in, and he looked back at the children for a quick second. “How about this - whoever wins gets to pick the first activity when we get there. Sounds good?”

The girls exchanged wary glances but, to your relief, nodded reluctantly.

“Alright, Hanbin, you can go first,” you encouraged, hoping the game might ease the tension.

Hanbin beamed. “Okay! I spy with my little eye... something blue!”

Everyone glanced around the car, scanning the scenery flashing past. Minseo guessed, “The sky?”

“Nope!” Hanbin grinned mischievously.

“The sign we just passed?” Yena continued hesitantly.

“Nope!” Hanbin’s giggles grew louder.

You frowned playfully. “Is it... your shirt?”

Hanbin’s laughter erupted. “Yes! Took you long enough!”

The game continued, and after a while, the kids grew quieter. Hanbin eventually nodded off, his small head resting against Minseo’s shoulder, who tolerated it with only a mild eye-roll before gently adjusting so he’d be more comfortable. Yena was absorbed in her phone, earbuds in, lost in her own world.

Hongjoong’s fingers tapped the steering wheel rhythmically. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, a fond smile tugging at your lips. Time really had shifted so much between you, yet sitting here felt oddly... right. Familiar, in a way you hadn’t realized you missed.

“We’re almost there,” he murmured after a long stretch of silence, his voice low but warm. “You okay?”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Yeah... it’s nice. Feels like old times, kinda.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah... it does.”

The car eventually pulled onto a winding gravel road bordered by towering trees on its side. The air outside was warm, and you could hear cicadas humming faintly in the distance. At the end of the path stood the cozy, weathered cabin - its wooden frame sturdy and welcoming, framed by flower-filled window boxes and a wide wraparound porch.

“We’re here!” Hongjoong announced as he stalled the engine.

Hanbin stirred awake instantly, blinking sleepily before gasping in delight. “We’re here? We’re here!”

Yena and Minseo both perked up, stretching as they climbed out of the car. You followed, inhaling deeply, savoring the fresh, earthy scent of pine and warm grass.

Hongjoong stepped around the car to join you, his expression light and content. “Still looks the same, huh?”

“Yeah...” You nodded, memories of summers spent here flashing through your mind. “Feels like home.”

Before either of you could say more, Hanbin sprinted toward the cabin, shouting excitedly, “I get to pick the first activity!” Yena and Minseo exchanged knowing looks before chasing after him, laughter spilling through the air.

You and Hongjoong shared a quiet, understanding smile.

“Ready for this?” he asked playfully, his eyes crinkling in that familiar, heart-stirring way.

You laughed softly, bumping his shoulder. “Let’s see if we can survive the kids.” 

After a whirlwind of unpacking - bags hauled inside, beds claimed, and a brief argument between the girls over god knows what - the cabin finally settled into a somewhat peaceful rhythm. The kids’ things were scattered in every direction, but at least no one was actively yelling anymore.

Well, almost no one.

“I’m not sharing a room with her!” Yena declared, arms crossed as she stood in the small hallway, glaring daggers at Minseo.

“Good, I don’t want to share with you either,” Minseo shot back, equally stubborn.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling a familiar headache creeping in again. Before you could step in, Hongjoong spoke up, taking care of the situation for you.

“Fine. Minseo, you take the small room upstairs. Yena, you get the pullout couch in the living room. Problem solved.”

Both girls opened their mouths to argue, but something in Hongjoong’s gaze made them reconsider. Grumbling, they grabbed their bags and stomped off in opposite directions.

You sighed, shooting Hongjoong a grateful look. “Crisis averted… for now.”

He smirked. “Not bad for our first hour here.”

Then reality hit you. “Wait... if Minseo’s in the small room and Yena’s in the living room... where are we sleeping?”

His brow furrowed for a moment before realization dawned. He let out a resigned chuckle. “There’s only one bed left... the master.”

Your stomach flipped. You hadn’t even considered that possibility when booking the cabin, assuming the girls would share like they used to when they were younger.

“Well...” You cleared your throat. “It’s a big bed. We’ll... manage.”

Hongjoong nodded, still smiling faintly. “We’ve survived worse.”

You tried not to read much into the warmth in his voice, quickly busying yourself by unpacking. Sharing a bed with your best friend felt... somewhat weird. But at least you were both adults. It would be fine.

Probably.

Once everything was sorted and the girls' tempers cooled down, Hanbin burst into the living room, practically vibrating with excitement and jumping up and down like a bouncy ball. “I know what I want to do first!” he announced, with sparkling eyes and a huge smile on his face.

Minseo leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “This better not be something ridiculous.”

Hanbin ignored her, bouncing on his toes. “I want to go to the lake! We can swim and skip rocks!”

Yena groaned a little but didn’t protest, clearly itching to stretch her legs after the long drive. Minseo sighed but grabbed her swimsuit from her bag without further complaint.

You exchanged a glance with Hongjoong, who smirked knowingly. “Guess the lake it is,” he said, grabbing a couple of towels from the stack you’d unpacked.

Within minutes, everyone was ready, swimsuits on and sunscreen applied. The well-worn path to the lake stretched through a small wooded area surrounded by trees. The distant sound of water lapping against the shore grew louder as you approached.

When the trees parted, the lake spread out before you, sparkling like glass under the sinking sun. The familiar wooden dock jutted into the water, weathered but still sturdy, just as you remembered.

Hanbin wasted no time, sprinting toward the dock in a hurry. “Watch me, mom!” he yelled before cannonballing into the water with an impressive splash.

You laughed, shielding your face from the spray. “Careful!”

Minseo and Yena exchanged a glance before racing toward the water, both diving in gracefully. Their laughter echoed across the water as they surfaced, already bickering over whose dive was better.

You sat down on the dock’s edge, dipping your feet into the cool water. It was refreshing against your skin, easing the lingering tension from the long drive.

Hongjoong settled next to you, close enough that your shoulders brushed. He rested his arms on his knees, eyes on the kids as they played and splashed. His expression softened.

“It’s nice seeing them like this,” he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful.

“Yeah...” You nodded, watching Hanbin laugh as Minseo playfully dunked Yena under the water. “It feels... right. Like they’re making the same memories we did.”

Hongjoong’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, something unreadable in his eyes. Before he could say anything, Hanbin’s voice rang out.

“Uncle Hongjoong! Mom! Come swim with us!” He waved both arms excitedly, his face lit up with pure joy.

You hesitated, but Hongjoong was already standing, pulling off his shirt in one smooth motion. He glanced back at you, smirking. “You coming, or what?”

Your breath hitched for a split second, heat rushing to your face as you watched Hongjoong pull his shirt over his head. His toned torso gleamed under the afternoon sun, soft muscles flexing effortlessly as he stretched. Hongjoong wasn't that muscular, not even in his youth, but he was lean and strong and pretty.

You swallowed hard, feeling like a teenager all over again - heart pounding, pulse quickening - as if seeing a man's body for the first time. 

Get it together. It’s just Hongjoong.

You quickly tore your gaze away. But then, as your children waited for you to join them in the lake, insecurity crept in like an unwelcome guest. Your eyes flickered downward, taking in your own reflection in the water’s rippling surface. Time hadn’t been as kind to you as it had been to Hongjoong. Years of motherhood, stress, and life had left soft curves where there once were muscles, stretch marks tracing the story of your children’s lives on your skin.

You tugged at the hem of your swimsuit self-consciously, smoothing it over your hips.The doubts remained though - you weren’t the same you once were, and standing next to someone like Hongjoong only highlighted every insecurity you tried so hard to ignore.

“Hey,” his voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, warm and gentle. You looked up, startled, only to find him standing at the edge of the dock, hand outstretched toward you, a familiar spark in his eyes. “You coming or what?”

His smile was so easy, so genuine - like he saw you, not the flaws you couldn’t stop focusing on. Like you hadn’t changed at all in his eyes.

Like you two were still 16, and Minji and Hyunwoo never broke you.

Before you could overthink it, you slipped your hand into his. His fingers closed around yours firmly, pulling you to your feet with effortless strength.

“Let’s go,” he urged, eyes crinkling in that familiar, heart-melting way.

Without giving yourself time to hesitate, you stepped forward - and together, hand in hand, you jumped into the cool, welcoming embrace of the lake.

“Oh my god, it's so cold!” you shrieked once you surfaced again.

Hongjoong surfaced right beside you, laughing as he wiped water from his face. “What did you expect? This lake has always been freezing.”

You splashed water at him playfully. “You could’ve warned me!”

He dodged the spray, grinning. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Before you could retaliate, Hanbin swam over, eyes wide with excitement. “Did you see my cannonball, Uncle Hongjoong? Wasn’t it awesome?”

“It was epic!” Hongjoong praised, ruffling the boy’s damp hair. “You’re practically a pro now.”

Hanbin beamed proudly, already plotting his next jump off the dock. Yena and Minseo swam closer, still competing against each other.

“Bet I can swim to the dock faster than you,” Minseo challenged Yena.

“Oh, you’re on,” Yena shot back, already propelling herself through the water.

You laughed, watching them go. “Some things never change.”

Hongjoong chuckled beside you, treading water effortlessly. “Good to see them like this... even if they argue half the time.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, feeling the ache of nostalgia tug at your chest. 

Before you could linger too long in your thoughts, a mischievous gleam lit up Hongjoong’s eyes. “Race you back to the dock?”

You raised a brow. “Really? You think you can still beat me?”

His smirk widened. “Still? I always beat you.”

“Dream on,” you challenged, already pushing off the water.

The two of you surged forward, the cold water slicing around you as you swam with everything you had. For a moment, you were young again - no responsibilities, no past heartaches - just two old friends racing through the water like nothing had ever changed.

Hongjoong reached the dock a split second before you, laughing breathlessly as he gripped the edge. “Still got it.”

You gasped, trying to catch your breath, splashing water at him. “Barely.”

He leaned against the dock, still laughing, his face inches from yours. His gaze softened, lingering on you in a way that felt... different - familiar but weighted with something deeper, something unsaid.

You remembered that gaze. It was the same way he looked at you many, many years ago.

“Hey...” His voice was low, almost hesitant.

Your breath caught, but before either of you could speak, Hanbin’s voice rang out.

“Mom! Uncle Hongjoong! Watch this!”

You snapped back to reality just in time to see Hanbin launching himself off the dock in another dramatic cannonball. Water sprayed everywhere, making you both laugh as the moment slipped away like the ripples spreading across the lake.

Hours passed, and as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, the chill of the evening air slowly began to set in. Yena and Minseo were still splashing and laughing, but even their boundless energy was bound to fade.

“Alright, girls!” you called. “Time to head back and get some dinner.”

Yena groaned dramatically. “Already?”

“It’s getting late,” Hongjoong reasoned, wading out of the water. “And I’m pretty sure Hanbin’s about to pass out.”

You turned to see your son curled up on the dock, wrapped in a damp towel, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. A fond smile tugged at your lips. “Poor thing played himself out.”

Hongjoong was already stepping onto the dock, water still dripping from his hair as he crouched beside Hanbin. “Guess I’m on carrying duty.”

“Joong, I can-”

He waved you off with a playful smirk. “I’ve got him.” With surprising ease, he scooped Hanbin into his arms, cradling the boy’s head against his shoulder. Hanbin stirred faintly but didn’t fully wake up, sighing contentedly in his sleep.

Your heart clenched at the sight - at how effortlessly Hongjoong fit into moments like this, how natural he looked carrying your son…

Minseo and Yena trailed behind as you led the way back toward the house, still chatting about god knows what.

By the time you reached the back porch, the sky was a deep shade of blur, stars beginning to pierce through the fading twilight. You unlocked the door and gestured toward the cozy living room.

“Lay him on the couch,” you suggested quietly.

Hongjoong nodded, carefully settling Hanbin onto the plush cushions, adjusting a blanket over him. He lingered a moment, brushing damp hair from Hanbin’s forehead with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

“Thanks,” you whispered, unable to keep the emotion from your voice.

He met your gaze, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. “Anytime.”

Before the silence could stretch too long, Minseo poked her head into the room. “Mom, what’s for dinner?”

You smiled faintly, clearing your throat. “How about spaghetti?”

Minseo’s face lit up. “Can we help?”

“Of course.” You motioned toward the kitchen. “Yena, you too. You’re on garlic bread duty.”

The girls rushed ahead, their giggles echoing through the house. Hongjoong lingered in the doorway, watching his daughter with that soft, distant expression he always got when he thought no one was looking.

“How about you take a shower first? No need to help, me and the girls got this,” you suggested. 

Hongjoong groaned, stretching his body. “You sure?”

“Positive. You drove us here, I'll make dinner. It's the least I can do.”

Hongjoong hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you before nodding slowly. “Alright, but call me if you need anything.”

You smiled warmly. “Go. We’ve got it.”

He disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone in the kitchen with the girls. Minseo was already setting a pot of water to boil while Yena hunted for the garlic bread ingredients.

“Mom, where’s the bread knife?” Minseo asked, rummaging through a drawer.

“Top left, under the cutting board.”

Yena held up a baguette triumphantly. “Found it!”

You chuckled, grabbing an apron from the hook. “Alright, let’s make this quick before you two pass out too.”

You couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace as you watched the girls. It made you think… When was the last time Minseo and Hanbin were this relaxed, this happy when Hyunwoo was still around? Of course they loved their father, but when the two of you were still married, the atmosphere was always tense. Never this light nor carefree. 

It's all thanks to Hongjoong and even Yena that your children could forget their worries and be happy. And even you could feel yourself smile and laugh without a single worry in the world right now.

Just as you were finishing the sauce, you heard soft footsteps behind you. Turning, you found Hongjoong leaning against the doorway, freshly showered, his hair damp and tousled, wearing a simple hoodie and sweatpants. He looked so relaxed, so… right.

“Smells amazing,” he said, his voice warm.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you replied, pretending your heart hadn’t just skipped a beat.

“Need me to set the table?” he offered.

“Already done,” Minseo piped up proudly.

He chuckled. “You girls are fast.”

“Sit,” you insisted, waving him toward the dining table. “Relax for once.”

Hongjoong held up his hands in surrender, moving to take a seat as the girls carried plates and bowls to the table.

Once everything was set, you all gathered around, Yena claiming the seat next to her father and eagerly telling him something, while Minseo took the seat right next to you. For a moment, it felt like you were part of something whole again - just a family sitting and eating together.

As the meal wound down, Hanbin stirred from the couch, his sleepy trying to blink the sleep away. “Mom...?”

You were by his side in an instant. “Hey, baby. You hungry?”

He nodded slowly, still half-asleep. Before you could lift him, Hongjoong was already there, scooping Hanbin up with practiced ease and settling him gently into a chair.

“Thanks, Uncle Joong,” Hanbin mumbled, leaning against him as you placed a small plate of spaghetti in front of him.

Hongjoong ruffled his hair with a fond smile. “Anytime, buddy.”

Hanbin had finished only a few bites of his spaghetti before sleep claimed him again. You and Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look. Without a word, he gently lifted Hanbin into his arms once more, cradling him like it was second nature. You followed him down the hall to Hanbin’s room, pushing the door open softly.

Hongjoong laid Hanbin down on the small bed, tucking the blanket up to his chin. His expression was so tender, so full of quiet affection that it made your heart ache in ways you couldn’t quite explain. You stood at the foot of the bed, watching in silence as he smoothed Hanbin’s hair one last time before stepping back.

“Goodnight, buddy,” he whispered.

You mouthed a silent thank you as you both slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind you.

You and Hongjoong walked down the hall, your shoulders brushing ever so slightly as you walked side by side. Neither of you spoke, but the comfortable silence between you felt like its own kind of conversation.

As you reached your shared living space for the holidays, Hongjoong stretched with a quiet groan, running a hand through his still damp hair. “I think I’m officially done for the day,” he admitted, a tired but content smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckled softly. “Go lay down already, I’ll check on the girls.”

He hesitated for a moment, searching your face as though he wanted to say something more, but ultimately he just nodded. “Goodnight... and thanks for today. For everything.”

“Anytime,” you replied warmly, echoing his earlier words.

He disappeared into your shared room, leaving you standing alone in the dimly lit hallway. With a soft sigh, you headed toward the girls’ rooms, pausing outside Minseo’s door. Peeking inside, you found her already curled up under her blankets, fast asleep. You adjusted her comforter gently before stepping back.

Just as you turned to leave, a faint, choked sound reached your ears - muffled sobs coming from Yena’s room. Your chest tightened, knowing instantly what it meant. You hesitated, fingers hovering over her door. You weren’t her mother... you didn’t want to overstep.

But you couldn’t just walk away either.

You knocked lightly, your voice soft but steady. “Yena? It’s... it’s me. Can I come in?”

There was a long, agonizing silence. Just when you thought she wouldn’t answer, her voice, small and slightly hoarse, finally whispered, “...Okay.”

You pushed the door open slowly and found her curled up in a tight ball on her bed, her face buried in her arms, shoulders trembling with quiet sobs. The soft glow of the moon bathed her room in silver light, casting long shadows across the walls.

Carefully, you sat on the edge of her bed, not wanting to crowd her. “Hey... what’s going on?”

“I just… I just wish mom was here, you know? But… but at the same time, I wish I'd never have to see her again… but I-i,” she choked out.

Your heart shattered at the weight of her words.

“I don’t... I don’t get how she could just do that to dad,” Yena continued, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and grief. “She was supposed to love him... to love me… but she ruined everything.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes, but you kept your voice steady. “It’s okay to feel both, Yena. Missing her doesn’t mean you’re forgiving what she did... and being angry doesn’t mean you’ve stopped loving her.”

She sniffled, wiping at her tear-streaked face. “I hate that I still care… that part of me wants her back, even after everything she did.”

Carefully, you rested a gentle hand on her back. “That just means you have a big heart… and you love deeply. It’s not wrong to feel that way.”

Her lip trembled as she whispered, “It hurts so much.”

Without thinking, you opened your arms. She hesitated for only a second before collapsing into your embrace, her sobs breaking free as she clung to you.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered, holding her tightly. “You’re allowed to feel everything... you don’t have to carry it alone.”

You held Yena close, letting her cry until the worst of her sobs subsided. You gently stroked her hair, whispering soothing words as her trembling lessened.

“I know it’s hard,” you murmured. “But you’re not alone, Yena. You’ll never be alone.”

A quiet shuffling sound drew your attention to the doorway. Minseo stood there, her dark hair tousled from sleep, eyes groggy but alert.

Yena tensed the moment she noticed her, eyes narrowing.

“What are you doing here?” Yena’s voice cracked.

“Minseo, sweetheart... maybe you should go back to bed,” you suggested softly, not wanting to escalate things.

But Minseo didn’t budge. Without a word, she walked over, climbed onto the bed, and sat on the opposite side, her small hand reaching out to rest atop Yena’s.

Yena flinched but didn’t pull away, confusion flashing across her tear-streaked face.

“I... I get it,” Minseo said quietly, her voice steady but strained. “I miss my dad too... but I also hate him... and I don’t know how to stop feeling both.”

Your breath hitched.

Then, turning to you, she continued: “I don’t understand why you hate him… why you left him, mom...” Minseo continued, her fingers curling against Yena’s. “He was always nice... to me, at least. He never yelled or hit you... so why did you leave? Why did he stop talking to me? Why... why did everything have to change?”

Her voice cracked, tears filling her wide, questioning eyes. “I feel like I’m the reason he’s gone... like if I’d been better, maybe he would’ve stayed.”

Yena stared at Minseo. Then, quickly, she shook her head.

“It’s not your fault,” Yena whispered. “Parents... they just... mess up sometimes.”

Minseo’s lips trembled. “But he left... he doesn’t even call anymore. And... and mom, you never tell me what happened... you just expect me to be okay with it.”

Your heart broke all over again. “Minseo... I’m so sorry.”

For the first time, Yena squeezed Minseo’s hand. “I thought it was my fault too... what my mom did. But... maybe... it’s not about us.”

Minseo nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. “It still hurts.”

“I know,” Yena whispered. “It hurts for me too.”

Without another word, the two girls leaned into each other, and giggled as they hit their heads.

They didn't even notice that you were long gone and soon fell asleep in each other's arms.

The car doors slammed shut one after another as you, Hongjoong, Yena, Minseo, and Hanbin stepped out into the parking lot of the amusement park. It has been Hanbin’s dream for the longest time to go here, and so it wasn't a surprise to see him practically vibrating with excitement, unable to stand still. “Can we go on the rides now?” he begged, bouncing on his toes.

“Shoes first,” you reminded gently, watching as he hastily retied a crooked lace.

Meanwhile, Minseo and Yena stood off to the side, chatting and giggling quietly about something only they understood. They shared a glance and broke into another round of laughter.

Hongjoong, locking the car, paused mid-motion, eyes narrowing suspiciously at the two girls. “...Are they laughing together?”

You bit back a smile, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Minseo and Yena rarely went five minutes without bickering - this newfound harmony was bound to set off alarm bells in his overprotective brain.

“They’re allowed to get along, you know,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

He scoffed. “Since when?”

Before you could answer, Hanbin tugged at Hongjoong’s arm. “Please, can we go now?” His eyes sparkled with pure excitement.

“Alright, alright, let’s go before you explode,” Hongjoong relented, ruffling the boy’s hair.

As you all headed toward the amusement park entrance, Hanbin sprinted ahead, pointing at every ride he saw, his excitement even infecting you.

Yena and Minseo walked side by side, still wrapped up in their own quiet little world. 

Hongjoong couldn’t stop glancing at them, looking utterly confused. “This is... still so weird to see,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “They don’t fight anymore? What happened?”

You hid a smile. “Guess we'll never know.”

It has been two days since that night, yet every time he saw them together actually getting along, Hongjoong still acted like he'd just seen a ghost. It was hilarious honestly. 

He shot you a suspicious look but let it go, too distracted by Hanbin waving frantically near the ticket booth. “Come on! We’re wasting time!”

With tickets finally secured, you stepped into the park. Hanbin immediately took off like a rocket, forcing you and Hongjoong to jog after him.

“Let’s do that one!” Hanbin shouted, pointing to a massive roller coaster twisting through the sky.

“That’s a bit intense for a first ride,” you laughed. “Maybe we can try something a little... less likely to send me into cardiac arrest?”

Hanbin groaned dramatically but agreed. Yena and Minseo quietly whispered, eyeing the spinning teacup ride nearby.

“How about the teacups first?” you suggested.

To your surprise, both girls nodded eagerly. Even Hanbin agreed after a moment’s thought - probably because it meant getting on a ride as soon as possible.

As the ride operator let you in, Hanbin raced to grab a seat, demanding that Hongjoong spin their cup as fast as possible. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way Hongjoong rolled his eyes but complied, already bracing himself for Hanbin’s shouts of “Faster Uncle Hongjoong, faster!”

You settled into another teacup with Minseo and Yena, the three of you spinning gently while the girls giggled every time it went a little fast.

After the teacups, you stretched your arms with a contented sigh. Your body wasn't getting any younger and even this little activity settled deep into your bones. “How about the Ferris wheel next? We can get a better view of the park from up there and plan what to do after.”

Hanbin’s face scrunched in disappointment. “The Ferris wheel? That’s boring!”

Before you could respond, Hongjoong gently ruffled his hair. “It’s not boring. It’s a good way to see where all the best rides are.”

Hanbin crossed his arms but reluctantly followed as you headed toward the towering Ferris wheel.

As you approached the line, Hanbin perked up. “I wanna ride with Minseo and Yena!”

The girls exchanged glances, raising their eyebrows. “Sorry, Hanbin,” Minseo said with mock seriousness. “Only girls allowed.”

“Yeah,” Yena added playfully. “You’re too little anyway.”

“Am not!” Hanbin stomped his foot, his cheeks turning red.

You opened your mouth to intervene, but Hongjoong gently placed a hand on your arm, shaking his head subtly. “Hey, bud,” he called to Hanbin. “You can ride with us.”

But Hanbin, now thoroughly offended, huffed and stomped toward an empty cart on his own.

“Hanbin, wait-” you started, but the ride operator had already secured the gate behind him. He plopped down in the cart with crossed arms, glaring at nothing in particular.

Hongjoong sighed. “He’s fine. He just needs a minute.”

You nodded, though worry still tugged at your chest. As the Ferris wheel slowly lifted you into the sky, you watched Hanbin’s cart ahead of yours. His pouty face softened a little as he gazed out over the park, clearly enchanted by the view despite his earlier protest.

Hongjoong also watched the children for a little before collapsing back into his seat, a groan escaping him.

“You look tired,” you said gently, breaking the comfortable silence.

He blinked, surprised. “Tired? Nah... I’m fine.”

“Liar.” You smirked knowingly. “You’ve been running around after Hanbin all day.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Without thinking, you shifted closer, reaching toward his shoulder. “Here, let me-”

Before your fingers could make contact, Hongjoong straightened abruptly, his eyes widening. “Ah! No need- seriously!”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You sure? You were literally wincing earlier.”

He waved a hand dismissively, though a faint flush crept up his neck. “I-I probably just... slept weird last night or something.”

“...Right.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly at how flustered he’d become. “I don't bite, Hongjoong.”

He scratched his head, avoiding your gaze. “I know. I just... you don’t have to.”

His shyness was almost endearing, and you found yourself smiling widely. 

Then, even though you were already moving on in your mind, Hongjoong let out a small, guilty sigh, and you perked up at that sound. “Okay... I might’ve brought my laptop.”

You blinked at him. “...Seriously? Joong, we’re on vacation. You promised no work.”

“I’m not working,” he defended himself quickly. “It’s just... in case something urgent comes up.”

You shook your head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “You’re hopeless.”

Before he could reply, the Ferris wheel gave a sudden, sharp jolt, making the entire cabin shake. You gasped as you lost your balance, tumbling forward and right into Hongjoong’s chest.

His arms wrapped around you instinctively, holding you securely against him. Your palms rested against the soft fabric of his hoodie, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath.

“You okay?” he asked, voice softer now, concerned.

“Y-Yeah.” You nodded, still pressed against him. “That... wasn’t supposed to happen, right?”

His eyes flicked upward toward the still Ferris wheel mechanism. “I don’t think so...”

Neither of you moved, still tangled together as the realization slowly set in: you were stuck.

You became acutely aware of how close your faces were, his dark eyes searching yours, warmth radiating from his body. His arm was still firm around your waist, steadying you in the swaying cart, and you couldn’t help but notice the small details about him now that the two of you were so close. The glasses perched on his nose framed his sharp, elegant features- his jawline was slightly more defined than you remembered, as if time had chiseled away the last hints of softness from his youth. His lips, faintly pursed as he looked at you with concern, were fuller than they had any right to be.

His hair, dark and slightly tousled, framed his face effortlessly, giving him an almost disheveled yet neat charm that felt... magnetic. The open collar of his shirt exposed the curve of his collarbones and the faint shadows of muscle below. You tried not to look, but your gaze betrayed you, lowering there for just a moment too long.

It hit you like a punch to the gut- why the hell were you suddenly noticing these things? You’d known him for over two decades, had seen him in every possible light, from the awkward teen years to the confident adult he’d become. He was your best friend, and yet, as he stared at you now, his brow furrowed in mild confusion, you felt... different.

Your heart stuttered unexpectedly, a warmth creeping up your neck. This was Hongjoong - the same Hongjoong who stayed up late with you for endless movie marathons, who held your hand through your hardest days, who once got his head stuck in a fence when you were kids because he thought it’d make you laugh.

And yet, the man sitting in front of you now felt like someone else entirely. Not unfamiliar, but... new. There was a subtle intensity in his gaze, a quiet confidence in the way he held himself, as though life had refined him into someone you couldn’t quite place. It made you feel unsteady, like the Ferris wheel wasn’t the only thing off balance.

“Y/N? You still with me?” his voice broke through your clouded mind, his head tilting slightly as he studied you.

“I-I’m fine,” you stammered, quickly sitting back in your seat.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he released a soft chuckle, his lips curving into a smile that seemed to tug a little too insistently at your chest.

This was bad. Very bad. Because the thoughts you were having weren’t the kind of thoughts you should be having about your best friend.

You forced yourself to breathe, pushing away these strange, unfamiliar thoughts. Shaking your head slightly, you turned your head. Your eyes scanned the Ferris wheel, quickly landing on the girls. Minseo and Yena were chatting away in their shared cart, seemingly unbothered by the sudden stop. Minseo had her phone out, and Yena was pointing to something on the screen, both of them laughing softly. You smiled a little. At least they were okay.

But then your gaze drifted to Hanbin’s cart.

And your stomach clenched.

Your son, who had looked so happy just moments ago, now looked anything but. His small hands were gripping the safety bar tightly, his knuckles white as his eyes darted around in pure panic. He was sitting stiffly, his legs drawn up slightly as though he were trying to make himself smaller than he actually was. Even from a distance, you could see how much he was shaking.

“Hanbin,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

Hongjoong followed your gaze, immediately becoming alarmed. “Crap,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hanbin!” you called, leaning as far as you could toward his cart without tipping over. “It’s okay, sweetheart! We’re right here!”

But Hanbin didn’t seem to hear you. His head was bowed now, his face buried in his hands. His little frame shook visibly, and your chest tightened at the sight.

Hongjoong leaned forward, trying to get his attention . “Hanbin, buddy, look at me! It’s okay! You’re safe!”

The boy’s head lifted slightly, and his tear-filled eyes locked onto Hongjoong. “I-I’m scared!” he cried, his voice breaking.

“It’s alright,” Hongjoong said. “I know it’s scary right now, but I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? Can you do that?”

Hanbin hesitated. Then, he slowly nodded and closed his eyes. His small chest rose and fell unevenly, but it was a start.

You pressed a hand to your mouth, trying your best to stay composed. 

“Hanbin,” you shouted. “Uncle Hongjoong and I are right here. You’re not alone. We’re going to get down soon, I promise.”

“You promise, mommy?” Hanbin sniffled, his big, teary eyes looking back and forth between the two of you.

Hongjoong nodded firmly. “Absolutely. But until then, we need you to be brave, okay? I mean, you’re the bravest kid I know, right?”

Hanbin’s lip quivered, but he nodded slightly, wiping at his tear-streaked face with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Good job,” Hongjoong praised. “Just keep breathing like that, bud. We’re gonna be fine.”

You reached out instinctively, your hand brushing against Hongjoong’s arm. He didn’t pull away this time, his focus entirely on Hanbin. For a brief moment, you felt a wave of gratitude for him. Hongjoong had always been amazing with your son, but now, you realized just how close they really were. It would be impossible to imagine your children’s life without him in it.

As the Ferris wheel swayed slightly again, you tightened your grip on your seat. “We need to get him down,” you murmured, glancing at Hongjoong.

“We will,” he said. His jaw tightened as he scanned the park below, likely looking for the operator or a maintenance crew. “Look,” he pointed towards a few people gathering on the ground, “it seems like they're trying to solve it already.” 

You followed Hongjoong's gaze, spotting a group of workers in bright uniforms gathered near the base. They appeared to be discussing something, a few of them pointing up at the ride and gesturing animatedly. Relief washed over you, but it was fleeting. Hanbin was still up here, still scared and alone, and every passing second felt like an eternity.

“Hanbin,” you called again, “the workers are going to fix this soon, okay? Just hold tight, sweetheart.”

He nodded, yet still looked uneasy. His hands hadn’t left the safety bar, his small fingers clutching it like it was his lifeline.

“I’ve got an idea,” Hongjoong said suddenly. “Hanbin, do you remember that song we were singing in the car on the way here?”

Hanbin blinked, his tear-streaked face turning toward Hongjoong. “The silly one?”

“Exactly!” Hongjoong grinned. “How about we sing it now? You lead, and I’ll follow.”

Hanbin hesitated, clearly unsure.

“Come on, bud,” Hongjoong urged gently. “It’ll help take your mind off things. And I need you to help me remember the words, okay?”

You watched as your son’s little shoulders relaxed just a little. Then, although still hesitant, he began to sing.

“There’s a bear in the woods, and he’s wearing a hat...”

Hongjoong joined in immediately. “He’s got big, big shoes and a cat on his back...”

With each line, Hanbin’s voice grew steadier, and a small smile even managed to steal itself on his lips By the second verse, he was giggling at Hongjoong’s deliberately off-key singing, and you felt some of the tension in your chest ease.

You joined in, too, harmonizing as best as you could. Minseo and Yena, hearing the commotion, peeked out of their cart and started laughing.

“Dad, this is a terrible song!” Yena called as she and Minseo exchanged glances.

“It's amazing, thank you very much!” Hongjoong retorted, feigning offense as he continued singing with Hanbin.

For a few precious moments, everything around you seemed to disappear. Hanbin’s laugh was infectious, and even you couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances.

“See?” Hongjoong said as the song ended, giving Hanbin a thumbs-up. “Told you you’re the bravest kid ever.”

Hanbin beamed, his earlier panic almost entirely gone. “I am, huh?”

“The bravest,” you agreed, your voice warm with pride.

Just then, the Ferris wheel gave another lurch. This time, instead of jolting to a stop, it began to move again - slowly, but steadily.

“It’s moving!” Minseo exclaimed, her voice filled with relief.

Hanbin’s eyes widened. “Are we getting down now?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” you said, your own relief evident in your voice. “We’re getting down.”

The descent felt excruciatingly slow, but eventually, the children's carts snd then yours reached the bottom. The ride operator opened the gate, and you practically leaped out, eager to feel the ground under your feet again.

“Hanbin!” you called, rushing to your son immediately. He jumped into your arms without hesitation, his small body clinging to you tightly.

“You did so good, baby,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

Hongjoong crouched beside you, ruffling Hanbin’s hair. “Told you you were brave.”

Hanbin looked up at him, his eyes still a little red. “Thanks, Uncle Joong.”

“Anytime, bud,” Hongjoong said with a soft smile.

Minseo and Yena joined you shortly after, both girls looking relieved to see Hanbin was fine again. Luckily, they were almost completely unbothered by the whole ordeal.

After a while, Hongjoong stood up again and let out a sigh. “Alright, no more Ferris wheels today. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you said, still holding Hanbin close.

“Can we do the bumper cars instead?” Hanbin asked, his big eyes looking up at you.

You exchanged a glance with Hongjoong, both of you smiling.

“Bumper cars it is,” he said. The girls also agreed without hesitation. It seemed like none of you could say no to Hanbin right now.

“Pretty eventful day, huh?” Hongjoong said quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping kids in the backseat. He shifted slightly, leaning his head against the window as you drove through the quiet streets.

“That’s one way to put it,” you replied, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “I’m still trying to figure out how Hanbin managed to hit me in the back of the head during that water gun game.”

Hongjoong chuckled. “That kid’s got good aim when it counts. Though I’m pretty sure Minseo was going for me the whole time.”

“Probably,” you said with a grin. “She told me earlier you were her ‘biggest threat.’ You should be honored.”

“Honored? I’m terrified,” he teased, leaning his head back. “She’s ruthless. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a kid so determined to win.”

“She gets it from me,” you admitted, glancing over at him briefly. “I may have had a bit of a competitive streak when I was her age, remember?”

“‘May have’?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Remember when we sneaked out to the arcane the day we had that exam? You were so determined to beat me in every fucking game we stayed so much longer than we intended to!”

You laughed, shaking your head at that memory. “Guilty as charged, Mr. Kim.”

He just rolled his eyes, so you focused on the road again. Your thoughts drifted back to the rest of the day, and you smiled fondly.

After the Ferris wheel and the bumper cars, the kids had insisted on trying out the water guns game. Hanbin had been determined to win a prize, his small hands gripping the water gun tightly as he aimed at the moving targets. Despite his best efforts, it was Minseo who ended up winning, much to his dismay. She’d teased him mercilessly until Yena stepped in, offering to share the plush dolphin she’d won earlier, which made Hanbin so happy he didn't leave the poor girl alone the whole time.

Then there was the roller coaster, which had been Minseo and Yena’s idea. Hanbin had been hesitant at first, clutching your hand tightly as you all waited in line, but his nervousness quickly turned into excitement once the ride began. You could still hear the sound of his laughter as the cart climbed to the top of the track, followed by his delighted screams as it rushed down the steep drop. Minseo and Yena had their hands in the air the whole time, having the time of their lives, while you and Hongjoong tried your best not to get nauseous. By the time the ride was over, Hanbin was begging to go again.

And, of course, there was the faithful cotton candy fiasco. Hanbin had managed to get more of the sticky treat on his face than in his mouth, and Yena had accidentally dropped hers, resulting in a brief meltdown that was only solved when Hongjoong offered to share his. The sight of him holding a piece of pink fluff out to his daughter, being all dramatic he'd had to share, was one you’d never forget.

“Hey,” Hongjoong said suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re smiling. What’s on your mind?”

“Hm? Just… the whole day, I guess,” you admitted. “The kids were so happy today.”

“They were,” he agreed, a huge smile on his face. “And you? Were you happy?”

You glanced over at him, surprised by the question. “I… yeah, I think I was. It’s been a while since I’ve felt that way. Hyunwoo didn't cross my mind once today, which is… good. Surprising, but good.”

Hongjoong didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on the passing streetlights. “You know,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, “I don’t think I thought about Minji once today, either.”

You swallowed hard, gripping the steering wheel tighter for a moment before forcing yourself to relax. “That’s a first, huh?” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “A good one.”

Neither of you said anything else after that. You focused on the road ahead, the familiar curve of the driveway to your holiday house coming into view. As you pulled in, the headlights swept across the front porch, casting soft light onto the porch. You parked and turned off the engine, plunging the car into silence.

You sat there for a moment, staring straight ahead, your hands still resting on the steering wheel. The only sound was the faint snoring of the kids in the backseat.

And then, before you could think twice about it, the words tumbled out of your mouth. “Sometimes, I wish I married you instead of Hyunwoo.”

The moment the words left your mouth, your breath caught in your throat, and your hands immediately tightened their grip on the steering wheel. It felt as though the world around you had frozen, the silence inside the car growing impossibly heavy. You didn’t dare look at Hongjoong, but you could feel his gaze on you - intense, and just as shocked as you felt.

You hadn’t meant to say it. You hadn’t even consciously thought about it until the words were out in the open, hanging between you like a live wire. Your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse so loud in your ears that it drowned out everything else. 

What the hell had you just done?

Hongjoong finally broke the silence, staring at you with wide eyes. “You… you wish you married me?”

His tone wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t indifferent, either. It was soft, uncertain, like he was trying to wrap his head around what you’d just admitted. And that made it even worse, because now you had to confront the weight of what you’d said - what you’d always been too afraid to acknowledge.

“I…” You swallowed hard, shaking your head slightly as you stared down at your lap. “I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean to- it just-” You stopped yourself, closing your eyes as you tried to organize the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions raging inside you.

The truth was, you didn’t know how to feel about it. For twenty years, you’d been with Hyunwoo. And yes, those years had been difficult -especially toward the end - but they hadn’t all been bad. There was a time when you’d loved him deeply, when you’d believed he was the person you were supposed to spend your life with. The early years of your marriage had been filled with so much laughter, passion, and the kind of love that made you feel like you could take on anything together.

But as the years passed, things had gradually changed. The love you’d once shared had been replaced by resentment and silence, by arguments that left you feeling more alone than ever. And yet, even then, you’d held onto the memories of what you used to have, convincing yourself that if you just tried hard enough, you could get it all back.

And through it all, through 20 years of life and hardships, there was Hongjoong. Your best friend, your confidant, the one person who seemed to understand you even when you didn’t understand yourself. He was always there. But you never let yourself think of him as anything more than a friend - not really. Maybe in your early teenage years you were crushing on him, but after that, you buried these thoughts deep within you. Because to admit that would have meant facing the fact that something was missing in your marriage. And you weren’t ready to face that. Not then.

But now… now you were free. And so was he. And suddenly, the barriers you’d spent so long building between you were starting to crumble.

“I loved Hyunwoo,” you said finally, your voice trembling slightly. “I did. At least… at the start, I did. I loved him enough to marry him, to build a life with him. But somewhere along the way, it just… it stopped working. And I tried so hard to fix it, to make it better, but-” You paused, letting out a shaky breath. “But I think, deep down, I always knew there was something missing.”

Hongjoong didn’t say anything, but you could feel him listening intently, just like he always did.

“And you…” You hesitated, finally forcing yourself to meet his gaze. His eyes were wide, vulnerable in a way you’d rarely seen. “You’ve always been there, Joong. Even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when I was too blind or too stubborn to see it. And I don’t know… I don’t know what that means. I don’t know if it means anything at all. But today, for the first time in years, I felt happy. Really, genuinely happy. And when I think about why…” You trailed off, your throat tightening as tears threatened to spill. “It’s you.”

You felt like you’d just stripped yourself bare in front of him. You didn’t know what you were expecting - anger, confusion, maybe even rejection - but what you saw in his eyes was none of those things.

Instead, there was a genuine smile on his face.

And maybe… just maybe… hope in his eyes.

“You’re not the only one who felt that today,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the heavy emotions in his eyes. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, about you, since… since forever, if I’m being honest. But I never wanted to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we have. I didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you could feel the tears slipping down your cheeks now, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. “Joong…”

“Don’t cry,” he said gently, reaching out to brush a tear away with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”

You leaned into his touch for a moment, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to absorb his words. His warmth, his love, it all made you feel like you could breathe again. 

But then, reality set in.

“I don’t… I don't think I’m ready,” you admitted, your voice trembling as the emotions began to spill out. “As much as I would like to… I just... Joong, I’ve never told you everything about how bad it really was… with Hyunwoo.”

His expression shifted, anger taking over his features, but he didn’t say anything, letting you speak at your own pace.

“I thought I could handle it, you know? At first, it wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t so bad. But over the years, it just… it wore me down. The way he spoke to me, the way he made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, like everything I did was wrong. And when he wasn’t yelling, it was worse. The silence, the distance, the way he looked at me like I was a burden he had to put up with. It broke me, Joong. He broke me...”

Your voice cracked on the last word, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, trying to hold back the sob that was threatening to escape. But it was useless. The tears were flowing freely now, and you couldn’t stop them.

Hongjoong’s hand moved to cover yours, gently pulling it away from your face so he could see you fully. “You don’t have to explain everything now,” he said softly, his eyes filled with a pain that mirrored your own. “But I’m here. I’m here to listen, whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded, taking a shaky breath before continuing. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m still trying to figure it out, to pick up the pieces of who I used to be before him. And the kids… they need me to be strong for them, to focus on them. Especially now that Hyunwoo decided to completely ghost them. I don’t know if I can do this- if I can handle anything more. I’m scared, Joong. Scared of messing it all up again.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice steady but full of emotion. “You didn’t mess anything up. He did. And you don’t have to figure it all out right now. There’s no rush, no pressure. I’ll wait, okay? As long as it takes. I’ll wait.”

The sincerity in his voice was almost too much to bear, and the guilt that had been clawing at your chest finally broke free. “I don’t deserve this,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do,” he said firmly, his hands cupping your face now, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You deserve so much more than what you’ve been given. And I’ll remind you of that every single day until you believe it.”

The dam inside you broke completely then, and you collapsed into his arms, sobbing against his chest. You cried for all the pain you’d endured, for the years you’d lost, for your children, for yourself.

Hongjoong held you through it all, his arms wrapped tightly around you without letting go of you. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to let go, to be vulnerable, knowing that he would catch you if you fell.

The sound of a small, groggy voice broke through the fragile bubble you and Hongjoong had created.

"Mommy?"

You pulled back from Hongjoong’s embrace quickly, wiping your cheeks with trembling hands. Turning toward the voice, you saw Hanbin rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Why are you crying?” he mumbled, and even though he was extremely tired he still looked worried.

Your heart clenched at the sight of him. Forcing a smile onto your face, you reached back to gently brush his hair out of his eyes.

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” you whispered softly, your voice steady despite the lump still lodged in your throat. “Mommy just got a little emotional, that’s all. But everything’s fine.”

Hanbin blinked up at you, his small brow furrowing as if he wasn’t entirely convinced. His gaze flickered to Hongjoong for a moment, who offered him a reassuring smile and a gentle, “Your mom’s right, bud. Everything’s okay.”

That seemed to settle him, and he nodded sleepily, already leaning his head back against the car seat. “Okay…” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut once more.

You let out a shaky breath, relief washing over you as his breathing evened out again. He had worn himself out so much it only took him a few seconds to fall asleep again.

Hongjoong reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s get them inside.”

You nodded, unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the car. The cool night air helped clear your mind a bit as you moved to open the back door. Hongjoong had already scooped Hanbin up into his arms, the boy barely stirring as he settled against him.

“I’ll grab Minseo,” you whispered, glancing over at your daughter, who was curled up in her seat with her head resting on Yena’s shoulder.

Hongjoong nodded and waited for you to unbuckle Minseo before he began carrying Hanbin toward the house. You gently shook Minseo awake, and her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy protest escaping her lips.

“Come on, sweetheart,” you said softly, helping her out of the car. “We’re home now. Let’s get you to bed.”

Minseo mumbled something incoherent but allowed you to guide her toward the house, her steps slow and heavy with exhaustion.

Once you got her inside and tucked into bed, you found Hongjoong already settling Yena under the covers on the pull out bed in the living room. He looked up as you entered, his expression softening as your eyes met.

“All good?” he asked quietly, his voice low to avoid waking the kids.

You nodded, leaning against the doorframe for a moment as you watched him adjust the blanket over his daughter. “Yeah. They’re out like lights.”

“Same here,” he said, stepping back from Yena’s bed and joining you in the hallway.

Quietly, you left, and then after changing and washing up, the two of you settled into your shared bed. It wasn’t the first time you’d shared this space, but tonight, it felt impossibly intimate.

Hongjoong turned slightly to face you, his head resting against the pillow as he studied you quietly. You mirrored his position, your bodies close enough that your knees brushed beneath the covers. His gaze was soft, tender in a way that made your heart ache.

Neither of you spoke at first, your eyes saying so much more than words ever could. Tentatively, your fingers reached out, brushing against his cheek before moving to trace the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and he didn’t pull away. Instead, he lifted his hand to do the same, his fingers trailing along the delicate lines of your face as though he were memorizing every detail.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, and the sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly. “I think you might need your eyes checked.”

“I don’t,” he replied firmly, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I mean it.”

His words, his touch, they were overwhelming in the best way. For the first time in years, you didn’t feel the need to deflect, to argue against the kindness being offered to you. Instead, you let yourself lean into it, into him.

You talked about nothing in particular that night, and through it all, the two of you stayed close, your fingers occasionally grazing as you spoke.

It felt like peeling back layers, like rediscovering each other in a way you hadn’t allowed yourselves to before. The sound of his voice, the warmth in his gaze - it all felt like home.

But even as sleep began to claim you both, neither of you moved away. Your hands remained loosely clasped between you, a silent promise that whatever tomorrow might bring, tonight, you were exactly where you needed to be.

The rest of the week went by quickly.

One of the other highlights was a trip to a nature trail nestled on the outskirts of town. The path wound through towering trees seemed to engulf you fully. The kids ran ahead, giggling as they pointed out interesting flowers, squirrels darting up trees, and the occasional butterfly flitting across the path. Yena and Minseo took turns being the “trail guides,” holding a small map they’d gotten from the trail’s entrance and excitedly directing the group to scenic spots. 

And more often than not, the girls managed to get you all lost.

Hongjoong walked beside you, Hanbin perched on his shoulders after growing tired. “You’re taller than everyone now,” Hongjoong teased, and Hanbin let out a delighted squeal, spreading his arms like wings.

The hike led to a clearing where a stream ran through the woods, its water crystal clear. Yena and Minseo quickly shed their shoes to splash around, their laughter carrying through the forest. Hanbin joined them with a little help from Hongjoong, who rolled up his pants and stepped into the cool water with him. You sat on the bank, watching them and taking a few pictures of the scenery.

On your last day, the five of you visited a local berry farm for some hands-on fun. Buckets in hand, you and the kids wandered through rows of lush bushes heavy with ripe berries. Minseo and Yena turned it into a friendly competition, seeing who could pick the most, while Hanbin focused on eating the fruits as much as collecting them. Hongjoong stayed by his side, laughing at his enthusiasm and sneaking berries for himself when he thought no one was looking.

When everyone had their fill, you gathered under a shaded pavilion to rest. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, and all of you made yourselves comfortable on the picnic blankets you brought along, the kids started pointing out cloud shapes and sharing silly stories. Hongjoong stretched out beside you, his hand resting near yours, his thumb occasionally brushing your knuckles. It was a small, quiet moment, but it felt like the perfect end to a perfect day.

By the end of the week, everyone was pleasantly worn out, and when you packed up and left your holiday home, the children were already begging to come back next summer.

Now that you were back home, everyday life slowly returned. School had started again, and while Minseo was doing fine, Hanbin still needed your help here and there and so, everyday after work, you spent your time helping him with his homework and studies. 

That, of course, also meant that you didn’t see Hongjoong much right now. Because that's the only reason, and not that you were internally freaking out about your confession and what it would mean for your future. You couldn’t explain it - not fully - but the vulnerability you’d allowed yourself that night now felt like too much, too raw. So, little by little, you began to withdraw, telling yourself it was for the best.

It started with excuses. When he knocked on your door, asking if you and the kids wanted to join him and Yena for a simple dinner or a walk to the park, you’d smile apologetically, citing exhaustion from work or chores that couldn’t wait. You kept conversations at the threshold brief, always steering them toward neutral topics and away from anything personal.

You avoided lingering in shared spaces. The mornings when you’d normally sip coffee together on the porch turned into rushed cups at the kitchen counter, your eyes trained on the clock. Even in the evenings, when the kids played together in the backyard, you made excuses to stay inside, watching them from the window instead.

But Hongjoong noticed. Of course he noticed. His subtle attempts to meet your eyes lingered longer, and the warmth in his smile dimmed slightly when you looked away too quickly. He didn’t push, didn’t confront you, and that made the distance feel even heavier.

Minseo, after making up with Yena on the trip and also blissfully unaware of the undercurrent between you and Hongjoong, continued spending time with Yena as much as possible. 

It wasn’t that you wanted to pull away. If anything, every fiber of your being longed for the comfort of his presence, the steady assurance and love he offered without asking for anything in return. But that was what terrified you the most - that if you allowed yourself to lean on him too much, you might not find the strength to stand on your own again. And deep down, you feared that he might realize you weren’t as deserving as he insisted you were.

And so, for the first time since you had known Hongjoong, you let the walls between you grow taller. What you didn’t expect was just how much it would hurt.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the school bus arrived before your house. You adjusted Hanbin’s backpack, bending down to plant a kiss on his forehead before ushering him toward the bus. Minseo followed, waving to you briefly before stepping up onto the bus.

“Have a good day!” you called after them. Hanbin turned to wave one last time before disappearing inside.

Of course your gaze drifted - inevitably - toward the house next door. Yena was climbing onto the bus herself, her dark hair swishing as she waved to Hongjoong, who stood on his porch, hands in his pockets.

Your breath hitched slightly when your eyes met his. He didn’t smile, didn’t offer the soft warmth you were used to. Instead, there was something hard in his gaze, a frustration simmering just beneath the surface. His jaw was tight, and though his stance was relaxed, there was no mistaking the tension in his shoulders.

You froze, uncertain whether to look away or acknowledge him. But he made the decision for you, stepping off his porch and striding toward your house with a deliberate calm that made your stomach twist.

“Good morning,” he said, his tone clipped. 

“Morning,” you replied, your voice barely audible. You took a half-step back, feeling cornered even though he stood a few feet away.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked, cutting straight to the point. His gaze didn’t waver, and there was no softness in his expression now, just concern tinged with a mix of anger.

You swallowed hard, trying to muster an excuse, but the words caught in your throat. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said finally. You quickly glanced towards your front door. “I-I should really get to the dishes,” you stammered, taking a step back into your house. Your hand gripped the door, your knuckles white as you forced a tight smile. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Before he could respond, you shut the door firmly, the sound of it slamming echoing in the quiet of the morning. You didn’t wait, immediately turning toward the kitchen, heart racing as you tried to escape the weight of his gaze.

But before you could take more than a few steps, the door burst open behind you, and you froze in your steps.

“Seriously?” Hongjoong’s voice was sharp as the door clicked shut behind him again. His footsteps were heavy and fast as he strode into the house.

You spun around, your stomach twisting. “Hongjoong, I-”

“No.” He didn’t stop, didn’t falter as he crossed the space between you in a matter of moments. “You don’t get to slam the door in my face like that.”

“Hongjoong, please, I just-”

“No.” Hongjoong’s voice cut through the room like steel, his gaze unwavering as he stopped just a step away from you. “You don’t get to shut me out like that.”

“Hongjoong, please,” you said, voice trembling. “I just need space.”

He tilted his head, studying you. “Space?” His voice softened, and his eyes pleaded with you. “I promised I would wait, but you're completely avoiding me, Y/N!”

You didn’t answer, eyes darting to the floor as heat rose to your cheeks. The weight of his frustration was overwhelming, but what unnerved you the most was the love that was still so evident in his eyes despite his anger.

“Y/N,” he said, voice quieter now but no less firm. “I’m not going to let you do this. Not to yourself. Not to me.”

You tried to step around him, muttering something incoherent about really needing to finish the dishes. But before you could take another step, his hand shot out, fingers curling gently but firmly around your wrist.

“You want to do the dishes?” His voice dropped low, and your whole body shuddered. “Fine. Let’s do the dishes.”

Before you could protest, he guided you to the sink, standing close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. He released your wrist, his hands instead resting lightly on your waist, his fingers pressing into the softness there. You stiffened, but he didn’t move away.

"Go on," he said, his voice low. "Start washing."

Your hands trembled as you reached for a plate, the silence between you heavy. You couldn’t focus - the way he was standing behind you, his chest pressed against your back, his hands on your hips made you spiral.

His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned closer. His hands stayed firm on your waist, grounding you, but it was the brush of his lips against the side of your neck that made you freeze entirely.

“Hongjoong…” you whispered, your voice trembling. You weren’t even sure if it was a plea for him to stop or to continue.

“I’m here, Y/N,” he murmured softly, his voice low and steady. “I’ve always been here. But please, just talk to me…”

The tenderness in his tone broke something inside you. His lips grazed your neck again, this time lingering longer, and an involuntary shudder ran through you. You clenched the dish you were holding.

When he kissed just below your ear, a soft, choked sound escaped your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you let the plate fall back into the sink with a clatter, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support.

“Hey…” His voice was alarmed now, and his hands quickly moved to your shoulders, turning you around to face him. The tears spilling down your cheeks made his expression soften, his anger dissolving into concern. “Y/N, talk to me.”

You wiped at your face quickly, embarrassed, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I’m sorry,” you managed, shaking your head. “I just- I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to let you in without ruining everything.”

He frowned, his hands cupping your face gently. “You’re not going to ruin anything. Why do you think that?”

A shaky laugh escaped you, more bitter than you intended. “Because we’ve been friends for over twenty years, Hongjoong. What if we mess this up? What if we can’t go back to being… us? I can’t lose you, too.”

His thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks, his gaze unwavering. “Y/N, we’ve survived every other challenge life has thrown at us. We’ll survive this, too. I want to be with you, and that feeling will never stop.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did. 

He studied your face for a long moment, his gaze softening. “There’s something else bothering you, right?” His voice was gentle, coaxing. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You felt the lump in your throat tighten, threatening to choke you. 

“It's… it's actually so dumb,” you laughed bitterly, but Hongjoong immediately shook his head. 

“Is this about Hyunwoo? What did he tell you?” he asked, his voice softer now. “Whatever it is he put on you. Whatever he made you believe about yourself.” His hands slid to your hips, holding you firmly. “I’m telling you, Y/N, he was wrong.”

“Hongjoong,” you whispered, gripping the edge of the counter, “you don’t understand-”

“No, I think I do.” His voice was rough, but his touch gentle as he leaned closer. “Don’t think about him. Don’t let him take up another second of your thoughts. He doesn’t know how to appreciate a real woman.”

You froze at his words, tears prickling at your eyes. Of course he immediately knew what you were thinking about. “I’m not... I’m not who I was 20 years ago, Hongjoong. I’m not-”

“Of course you’re not,” he interrupted, his hands squeezing your full hips. “You’re not supposed to be. You’re a woman. A damn beautiful one, for fuck’s sake.”

His words broke something inside you, a sob escaping before you could hold it back. He didn’t hesitate, pulling you against him as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as if he could shield you from every doubt, every insecurity that had ever plagued you.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he murmured against your temple. “You’re enough, just as you are. And I swear to you, I’ll spend as long as it takes proving that to you.”

“I'm sorry for being so childish,” you mumbled into his chest, which made him chuckle a little.

“It's fine. Just don't do it again, okay? Also,” he took a step back, and you immediately missed his arms around you, “we don't have to make anything official yet. It's just you and me. No labels matter, because they won't even come close to describe the love I have for you anyways.”

“I want to take care of you,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you. We have a few hours until the children are back. Do you… I mean… if you want, of course-”

God, the way he was struggling for words made you break out into laughter, which in turn made his entire face turn a deep shade of red. You took his hand, squeezing it carefully. 

“I… I feel better now that I told you. So, if you want…”

-Of course I want!”

You giggled. “Then… bedroom?”

He didn't even nod, just pulled you out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into your bedroom. As soon as the door closed behind him, he wrapped his arms around you again, this time more possessively, as if he wanted to make sure no one else would be able to see you or touch you.

His hands cupped your face, and then his lips were on yours. It was a kiss that held more promises than a thousand words.

It was the kind of kiss that made you feel safe and loved, and it was the kind of kiss that made the doubts you had previously had about him dissipate instantly.

Hongjoong kissed you as if his life depended on it, and the way his tongue moved against yours made a shiver run down your spine.

“Do you have any toys?” He suddenly asked. 

“H-huh?” You blushed, remembering the hidden box of unused toys you indeed had but never used, because Hyunwoo never wanted to. And after your divorce, you kind of forgot about it anyway.

“I- well, I do. But-”

He didn't let you finish. Instead, he grabbed your hand and led you to the bed, where he made you sit.

“You can just tell me, and I'll bring them here. I'll show you how much fun it can be.”

Your stomach twisted nervously, and you looked down, your cheeks burning.

“Y/N,” he carefully said, kneeling down before you. “I want to worship you. I want to use the toys on you if you'd like that. So, tell me, do you want me to use them on you?”

You swallowed hard, still unable to look up.

“Y/N, hey,” he said softly, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We can wait, we don't have to-”

“N-no,” you quickly said, looking up and into his eyes. “It's not that I don't want to. I'm just a bit scared, and also-”

“Scared?” His brow furrowed. “Why would you be scared, darling?”

“Because I've never used them. I-I don't know how they work. Or-”

He gave a little smile. “I'll show you. I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun."”

“I-okay…”

“You're sure?”

"Y-yeah."

Hongjoong placed a soft kiss on your forehead, then got up and left the room. You watched him, biting your lower lip nervously.

When he came back, he had your big, white box in his hands, and his grin widened as he opened it.

“I see, my girl likes plugs, hm?”

You blushed, looking away again. “I've never tried them.”

“But you would like to try it, right?”

You nodded slowly, and the next thing you knew, Hongjoong was straddling your lap.

“Do you want to try them right now, babygirl?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and the pet name made heat pool in your stomach.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Good,” he breathed, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your neck. “Now, I'd love to see you try these. Which ones do you think you'll like the most, sweetheart?”

You didn't know what to say, so you pointed to a pink plug, and Hongjoong smiled.

“That looks like a good one. We'll use this, and this,” he reached for a vibrator. “I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun.”

With a quick movement, he took your shirt off, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you hadn't worn a bra today.

“Fuck, you're so hot,” Hongjoong murmured, his gaze hungrily roaming your body. 

“'M not,” you murmured, “I gained too much weight…”

He silenced you with a kiss. “You're beautiful,” he said, his hand resting on your thigh. “And I can't wait to make you feel good.”

With that, he stood up again, and walked towards the bedside table. “Is your lube in here?”

You nodded shyly. “It is.” Hongjoong opened the drawer quickly and pulled out said bottle of lube.

“You can relax now,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you, darling.”

 He helped you lie down, and then started working your pants open. Soon, you were only wearing your panties, and Hongjoong couldn't keep his eyes off your curves.

“Fuck, I love your body,” he breathed. “You're so fucking sexy, Y/N.”

You flushed, biting your lip. “Really?”

“Of course. I thought you were pretty when we were 16, but now... you're so much more than that.”

His hand brushed along your side, making you shudder. Hongjoong started to trail soft kisses down your body. Your belly, your hips, and finally, the waistband of your panties.

“Can I take these off?”

You nodded again, and he pulled your underwear down slowly.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “You're dripping already, aren't you, princess?”

“I-i’m so wet for you,” you whined, and his eyes lit up.

“So needy already, babygirl.”

He pushed your legs apart, his thumb brushing along your slit, and the sensation made you gasp.

“You're so sensitive,” he said, “I love it.”

He started rubbing slow circles on your clit, and you could feel the heat building up in your stomach already.

“Are you already close, babygirl?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

“Well, don't hold back,” he murmured, leaning down.

And then, his tongue was on your clit, making you moan. You could feel his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, and his hand moved down to tease at your entrance.

“Fuck, Hongjoong, please,” you whined.

“So needy,” Hongjoong purred. “Do you want my fingers, sweetheart?”

“Please!”

“What's the magic word?” You blushed at his dirty words. Hearing him talk like that for the first time did some unspeakable things to you.

“P-please, Hongjoong, I want your fingers!”

You were rewarded with two of his fingers entering you, and you moaned at the stretch.

“O-oh, fuck,” you gasped.

“You're doing so well,” he murmured, starting to thrust his fingers into you.

His mouth went back to sucking on your clit, his tongue lapping at the sensitive nub. He kept fingerfucking you, his fingers hitting just the right spot, and soon, you felt the familiar feeling building up in your core. You haven't had an orgasm in so long, so it was overwhelming you in the best way possible. 

“You can cum for me, princess,” Hongjoong encouraged, his tongue swirling around your clit. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as your orgasm washed over you.

He didn't stop his movements, and you whined at the overstimulation. 

“Come on, babygirl,” Hongjoong said. “Cum for me once more. You can do that for me, can't you?”

“I-i can't, please!” You cried out, and he started fingering you even harder, his tongue still teasing your clit.

“That's it, Y/N,” he breathed. “Cum for me, baby.”

The sensation was overwhelming, and soon, you felt another orgasm building up, and you moaned, throwing your head back as pleasure washed over you once more.

Hongjoong pulled his fingers out, making you whimper.

“Are you alright, princess?” He asked softly.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath.

“How about we use the toys now, hm?”

He grabbed the pink plug, and poured some lube onto it.

“Can you stay on all fours for me, darling?”

You nodded, turning around and getting on all fours.

“Look at you, being such a good girl for me,” Hongjoong murmured, and the praise made a shiver run down your spine.

On one hand, it was weird hearing your best friend of 20 years say such filthy things to you, but on the other hand... it was kind of hot.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

You felt the cool plug teasing your entrance, and the tip slowly slid into you.

“How does that feel?”

“G-good,” you gasped.

“Tell me if it's too much, okay?”

“I will.”

“You're doing so well,” he breathed. “Do you want me to fuck you with it?”

“Y-yes,” you gasped.

“Good.”

Hongjoong started pushing the plug deeper into you, and the sensation made you moan. The toy was bigger than his fingers, and it stretched you open deliciously.

“Do you like that, princess?”

“So fucking good,” you moaned. “B-but... I wanna do something for you too, Joongie. Please?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice low and rough. "”What do you have in mind?”

You bit your lip. You were embarrassed, but you needed him. You wanted to pleasure him.

“I wanna suck you off.”

He all but whined at that, and a deep blush crept up his neck.

You crawled off the bed, and Hongjoong sat down on the edge, his hands immediately running through your hair.

“You don't have to, Y/N. This is supposed to be about you.”

“I know. But I want to.”

Hongjoong's breath hitched in his throat, and he nodded.

“O-okay.”

You got down on your knees before him, and you started working his jeans open. His bulge was straining against his underwear, and you couldn't help but feel flattered that you did that to him.

“You're so hard,” you mumbled, and Hongjoong let out a groan.

“I won't last long,” he warned.

“It's fine,” you giggled.

You pulled his boxers down, and his erection sprung free, and god, it was definitely bigger than you'd imagined. Because yes, you did think about your best friend's dick before.

“Are you really sure?”

“Oh, I definitely am.”

With that, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he panted. “Just like that, sweetheart.”

You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, and Hongjoong's grip on your hair tightened.

“Goddamn it,” he breathed. “D-don't stop.”

You started bobbing your head, sucking harder as you did. You felt Hongjoong's grip on your hair tighten, and the sounds he was making only spurred you on.

“So good, Y/N, just like that,” he moaned, and his praises only encouraged you more. You sucked harder, taking him deeper into your mouth, and you heard him moaning louder.

“I-I'm gonna cum, baby,” he gasped. “Where do you want me to cum?”

You couldn't reply, so instead, you just kept bobbing your head. You sucked him harder and harder, and then, you felt him twitch inside your mouth.

“Y/N!”

He came with a moan, and you swallowed all of it, the salty taste lingering on your tongue.

Hongjoong's grip on your hair relaxed.

“Fuck, Y/N, that was amazing,” he gasped.

You gave him a smile, and stood up.

“Did I make you feel good?” You asked, and Hongjoong grinned.

“Fuck yes you did.” Hongjoong leaned toward the bed, grabbing the vibrator. “Let's have some more fun with this, yeah? After all,” he looked at the clock and smirked, “the kids won't be home for a few more hours.”

24th of december, 2024.

The smell of cookies and gingerbread filled the air, the Christmas lights twinkled, and the golden ornaments were shimmering in the warm glow.

Hanbin and Yena were sitting on the floor, playing with the new dolls Hanbin had gotten for Christmas. Minseo was lounging on the couch, listening to music, and Hongjoong was helping you in the kitchen.

You couldn't help but smile to yourself, watching how Yena was listening intensely to Hanbin explaining to her how she should play with the new toys. You didn't even mind that they were a little too loud, and the sound of their voices blended with the music coming from Minseo's phone, creating a comfortable and cozy atmosphere.

“They're so cute,” Hongjoong said, handing you a mug of cocoa, “almost like real siblings.”

“I know,” you smiled, taking a sip.

Hongjoong wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, and kissed the top of your head.

It had been an intense few months. A lot of things had changed; of course, there was your relationship with Hongjoong, going from lifelong friends to partners. 

You had told the kids pretty early on, and they had taken it surprisingly well. You had expected more confusion and maybe some questions, but in the end, all three of them had been delighted. Minseo's response had been a simple shrug, stating she already knew, which made you laugh. And Hanbin was already telling everyone who would listen that he now had two sisters.

But unfortunately, these had been the only good news for the kids. By now, their father had completely cut contact with the children after ghosting them the whole summer. You still remembered how Minseo and Hanbin broke down as you had to tell them, crying in your arms for hours and hours on end. His complete disappearance over the summer had left a hole in the kids' hearts that was hard to fill, and the court battle that followed only seemed to make everything worse. You could still hear their voices in your head - the way Hanbin had asked, tearfully, if he'd done something wrong to make his father leave, or how Minseo, after months of letting her anger out on you and refusing to open herself, had quietly broken down, asking what it was that made her father stop loving her. Those were the moments that hurt the most, when you couldn’t find the right words to reassure them.

It was clear Hyunwoo wanted nothing to do with his responsibilities, as if he was trying to sever all ties, not just with you, but with his children as well. His refusal to pay any child support only added salt to the wound, a constant reminder of how little he cared. The court proceedings felt like they stretched on endlessly, but it was the emotional toll on Minseo and Hanbin that made everything feel worse. You tried to keep it together for them, but there were days when you just didn’t know how to shield them from the hurt any longer.

And then there was Hongjoong’s side of things, which wasn’t any easier. Though Minji had remained in contact with Yena, it wasn’t without its complications. Yena had always looked up to her mother, but since the truth came out about her affair Yena’s world had been turned upside down. Every time Yena visited her mother, she couldn't stay long, because seeing her mother with that man she had hurt her father with hurt her a lot. And though Minji tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy, the tension between them never completely faded away.

Hongjoong's lips found their way to yours, and you sighed into the kiss. 

“You're thinking about something negative again,” he murmured. “Its Christmas, Y/N. You and the kids should be happy today.” 

You smiled, stealing another quick kiss from him. Just a few years earlier, you had never thought about kissing your best friend, but it had turned out to be one of the best things you'd ever experienced. He was so gentle, and his touch always sent shivers down your spine.

“I know,” you whispered against his lips, still savoring the warmth of his kiss. “It’s just hard not to think about everything, you know? Especially when I see the kids still hurting so much.”

Hongjoong nodded, his hands resting gently on your waist. “I get it,” he murmured, “but today is about us. The kids are happy, we’re happy. Let's just celebrate today.”

Then, Hanbin’s voice caught both your attention. “Mom! Uncle Hongjoong!” He called out, looking up from the dolls as his little face lit up. 

You exchanged a smile with Hongjoong before both of you headed toward the kids. They were gathered around the tree, eagerly waiting for you both to join them. Hanbin was bouncing on his heels, his small hands clutching something behind his back, while both Yena and Minseo exchanged glances with each other.

“What’s going on, little man?” Hongjoong asked, kneeling down beside Hanbin. The little boy grinned wide, clearly too excited to wait any longer.

“Close your eyes!” Hanbin instructed, and Hongjoong and you exchanged amused looks before doing as told. Both of you waited in silence as Hanbin scurried to the side, the rustling of paper and soft giggles filling the air.

"Okay, open them!" Hanbin’s voice rang out, and you opened your eyes to see him holding a small, carefully wrapped box. Minseo stood beside him, and she had a shy, almost nervous smile on her face as well.

Hongjoong blinked in surprise as he took the box, lifting it gently and peeling back the wrapping. It was a small, hand-painted mug with a simple design - stars and a moon. The kind of mug that felt like it belonged to a cozy winter morning, a mug that would hold the warmth of tea or cocoa on chilly days.

“This is for you, Uncle Hongjoong,” Hanbin said proudly, looking up at him with bright eyes. Yena added, almost quietly, “Thank you for always taking care of Mom and us.”

It was clear that Hongjoong was caught a little off guard. He hadn’t expected anything, and the unexpected kindness from your kids left him momentarily speechless. It was clear that, while they hadn’t yet made a full leap into calling him “Dad,” they had built a bond so much deeper - something that felt like a real family, even if it wasn't your stereotypical one.

Hongjoong took the mug from Hanbin, and embraced both Minseo and Hanbin in a long hug. “Thank you, both of you,” he said. “This means a lot to me.” He looked at you for a moment, his expression tender, before continuing. “You guys are so special to me.”

Yena stood off to the side, quietly watching the exchange between Hongjoong and her new siblings. Her hands were clasped together, fingers wringing nervously as she looked down at the floor for a moment. But as Hongjoong and your kids still continued to talk quietly, she stepped forward, holding something small and neatly wrapped in her hands.

You noticed her then, the soft hesitation in her movements, the way she was trying to come put of her shell. With a gentle smile, you beckoned her closer. "What do you have there, Yena?" you asked.

Yena hesitated, her gaze flicking between you and the others before she stepped forward, placing the small gift in your hands. "I... I wanted to give this to you," she murmured, her voice soft, almost as if she was unsure of your reaction.

You smiled, genuinely touched by her effort, and carefully peeled away the wrapping. Inside was a small, handmade bracelet - delicate and simple, with a charm that resembled a heart and stars hanging from it. It was something you could tell Yena had put a lot of time into making, something personal that she was choosing to give to you.

"It's beautiful, Yena," you said, your heart swelling with affection as you gently took her hand in yours, running your fingers over the bracelet. "Thank you."

Yena's cheeks flushed a little at your words, but there was a small, shy smile tugging at her lips. She looked down at her feet for a moment before her voice broke through the silence once again, this time quieter than before. "I know I don't call you Mom," she started, her words carefully chosen. "And I don't know if I ever will. But I... I want you to know that I'm really happy you're here with us. And that you make Dad happy." She paused, then added, her voice just barely above a whisper, "I love you."

You reached out, pulling her into a hug. Tears prickled in the corner of your eyes, but you blinked them away, a huge smile stealing itself on your lips. Your heart was so full of love it hurt, because you had no idea what to do with so much happiness. 

"I love you too, Yena," you whispered. "And I'm so grateful that we're all together. We may not have started out the way others would have, but this... this is our family now."

You felt her arms tentatively wrap around you, her body slightly stiff at first, but she didn’t pull away. 

Yena stayed in your embrace for a moment longer, her body relaxing into yours as you stood into your living room. You pulled back, smiling at the way she held onto you.

You caught Hongjoong standing nearby, watching the two of you with a fond smile.

“I’m so happy right now,” you whispered, your heart full of emotion as you looked around at the children. “This feels perfect.”

Hongjoong took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It is," he agreed quietly.

"Come on, let's get a family photo!" Minseo called from the couch, her phone already in hand. Hongjoong, still holding the mug from Hanbin, stood beside you, his arms sliding around your waist. Hanbin jumped up, his little hands tugging at Yena’s sleeve as he excitedly pulled her to the center, his energy contagious. The kids huddled close, everyone laughing and joking as they found their places for the picture.

Minseo stepped forward, positioning herself just behind Hanbin, her phone held high to capture the moment. Hongjoong's arms were firmly around your waist as he stood beside you, his eyes never leaving you, and your heart fluttered at his eyes so full of love

Minseo grinned from behind her phone, adjusting the camera. “Okay, okay, everyone! Say cheese!”

Before anyone could respond, Hongjoong leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The photo snapped just at that moment, and the last thing you heard was Hanbin’s “Ugh, not again!” as you smiled at the man you thought you’d never end up with, feeling a sense of peace settle over you – like you’d finally found what you didn’t even know you were looking for in the arms of someone who had always been a part of your life, yet somehow, never felt right until now.

[a-tiny-thing]

Is Santa the new Cupid?

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x gender neutral reader

❆ Warning: none, no usage of Y/N ❆ Word count: 5.9k ❆ Rating: sfw ❆ Genre: holiday themed, office romance, mutual pinning, brother's best friend, fluff ❆ Summary: With the holiday's rolling around, everyone is in a festive spirit. You're not a huge fan of Christmas, but your brother is, so, he organises a Secret Santa themed party at work. What you don't expect, however, is for him to scheme to try and bring you together with your work crush.

A/N: ~Ho, ho, ho, @hee0soo your Secret Santa is here! ^^ I hope this story is to your liking and that you will enjoy it! As for everyone else, hello, my lovelies! This is a little event I partook in, and I'd like to thank @cromernet for hosting it, being in this server has been nothing but a pleasure! <3 To those who celebrate it, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, and to those who don't, a well earned rest and an overall joyful time! I hope everyone will enjoy this little piece, and if I don't write anything in the upcoming days, then I wish you a Happy New Year, and I shall see you in the next year! Thank you for being here and for supporting me, for all the feedback and kindness, you make writing a little more pleasant! I'll let you go on and read now, I hope you enjoy! Your feedback is always appreciated! <33 divider

            The holidays had always been a mess. No matter where you looked, people were stressing about getting the perfect gifts, the most glamorous outfits, the best seasoning for their food, and the most colourful decorations they could get their hands on. The sight was enough to send you into another spiral of why you thought this whole fussing about a celebration—that not everyone celebrates, by the way—was so unnecessary and only damaging your health, raising your cortisol levels. But alas, this is how the world worked, and you couldn’t go against it. Your flat was minimally decorated, and you were still debating whether you’d get a Christmas tree this year or not. There was no point in throwing out money if you weren’t wholeheartedly in tune with the whole holiday…that is unless your nosy brother decides to take over your flat like last year and turn it into a whole Christmas fest. You swear you were finding glitter even a month later in places like your salt shaker and the medical cabinet in your bathroom. Seonghwa loved everything shiny, so when his lovely sibling refused to abide by his wishes, he put his persuasive skills to use and coerced you into the most blinding corset you could have ever found. Which brings us to the current time, with you hiding out in your brother’s office and furiously scrubbing at the stained red glitter. Nothing was working, your co-worker’s red wine would be forever embedded into your pricey piece of clothing.

You didn’t blame him, it was an unfortunate accident. The waiter was walking by with a tray filled with cheese when your co-worker had thrust his hand backwards, calling for a disaster. Which happened mere seconds later when the beverage sloshed all over your chest and the top of the sweetheart neckline of your corset. You sighed as you gave it one last try, perhaps if you put more passion into it then you might be able to make the stain fade a little bit. The fabric of the corset was a bright red and the dark stain was rather visible despite the glittery studs that covered it. You had told Seonghwa that the outfit was a bit too much for an office Christmas party, but he only told you to suck it up and wear it unless you didn’t want to be on theme. Which you were, thanks to your brother, except that seemingly everyone else had gone for more casual or silly outfits, and here were you…wearing a sexy sparkly—now ruined—corset, and some black wide-legged pants that hid the stilettos which matched the colour of your top. With a frustrated groan, you flopped into the chair placed in front of your brother’s desk and closed your eyes, accepting your fate.

You would’ve further ruined the fabric at this point if you kept on scrubbing the way you were, and that would be a waste of Seonghwa’s money…since he was the one to get you this outfit. He was rather pushy this year, it was suspicious, but you didn’t question it. Your brother had always been a bit weird, particular about the things he liked, and a perfectionist in everything he did…but at least he spoiled you well, so you couldn’t really complain. The cacophony of the ongoing party from beyond the door reminded you that you couldn’t hide out in your brother’s office anymore, so you took a deep breath and told yourself that everyone would understand how the stain got there without ridiculing you. Your co-worker already felt terrible for being so clumsy, and you weren’t even mad at him. The door which you had left ajar was suddenly flung open, and your eyes widened when you saw who had walked inside. Great, just what you needed…your work crush to see you in this state of despair when today was supposed to be filled with jolliness. You quickly stood and dusted off your pants out of habit, trying to keep yourself calm and collected…which was something you often failed to do in Kim Hongjoong’s presence.

He wore something similar, suspiciously, and for a millisecond you wondered if this was Seonghwa’s work, who wasn’t just your brother, but also Hongjoong’s best friend. When you say work crush…you mean the longest crush you’ve had on anyone since you’ve been hopelessly pinning on Hongjoong since like…high school. Embarrassing, but you were a few years younger, and Hongjoong was too cool to notice you or regard you as anyone else than his best friend’s younger sibling. Hongjoong’s cat-like eyes widened as the two of you stared at each other wordlessly, and you realized his blazer looked an awful lot like your corset. It was the same shade and had the same sparkly studs, the shoulders were puffed out, and it was cropped, stopping right above Hongjoong’s waist. He had always been stylish, and he loved going all out at events like this one. His long black pants reached below his ankles, and the huge black bow tied around his waist truly elevated the whole look. His satin white shirt was spotless, unlike your stained corset. You wished you had something to cover it with…you supposed perfectionism ran in the family, after all.

“Hi.” Hongjoong broke your wordless staring contest, and you gulped down your nerves, trying to smile at him. You’ve been working together for two years, for God’s sake, you couldn’t freeze anytime Hongjoong even as much as looked at you.

“Hi.” You greeted back lamely, and you were thankful that your voice wasn’t squeaky at least. Hongjoong’s eyes took a quick sweep of your body, and you fought against yourself to keep at bay the blush blooming over your cheeks.

“Is everything okay?” Hongjoong, the ever-considerate guy he was, asked with a concerned look on his face, “I saw you storm off and…I thought maybe something happened.”

How could you not have a crush on this man when he acted like this?

“Oh, I’m alright, don’t worry.” Except that you weren’t exactly, and you knew he could see it on your face, so, you sighed defeated, “Well, okay, Mingi spilt his wine on me and now my corset is stained…and I hate it because everyone can see it.”

You were pouting as you looked down at the darker spot on your corset, and maybe you became a bit sulkier when Hongjoong just chuckled. He looked adorable with his lips curling upward, fighting the urge to outwardly laugh in your face. That was nice of him, you were glad he was nice enough to not make fun of you…not that Hongjoong would make fun of anyone, he was the first one to shut down even the hint of bullying if he came across it.

“Sounds like it’s the end of the world,” Hongjoong teased you, and you rolled your eyes in exchange, “Did you bring a blazer?”

“No,” You shook your head, flopping back down on the chair, “Only a huge fur coat, and I can’t wear that in here…especially since it’s white and people like Mingi exist.”

That made Hongjoong laugh as he nodded, his eyebrows furrowing in thought, “Well, I also suppose you didn’t bring a backup outfit?”

“No, Hongjoong,” You sighed, “Not everyone is as well prepared as you are.”

He hummed knowingly, his office having a wardrobe dedicated to outfits Hongjoong brought in for emergency meetings or occasions. He was well prepared, and most importantly, always well dressed. He had been like that since high school, wearing the edgiest outfits he could find, painting his nails, and experimenting with his hairstyles. Something he hadn’t stopped doing ever since, hence his two-coloured hair at the moment. His middle part was perfect, the left side of his hair bleached blonde while the right side remained a raven black. It looked good on him, too good, and it brought back memories of when he had tried it out for the first time in his final year of college. Just remembering it made you almost blush again, the image of screaming about it into a pillow after running into Hongjoong was still too vivid in your mind.

“Allow me to help you out then, stay here.” Before you could question Hongjoong, he was already out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a racing heart. What could he possibly have in mind? You had always seen him as a creative person—I mean, he really was considering the fact he was in charge of the graphic design department—and he had never shied away from a little challenge. Except that, he wasn’t facing a challenge right now, and you wondered what he had in mind since it brought that excited glint in his eyes, it happened whenever he thought of something brilliant. Because honestly, all of Hongjoong’s ideas were brilliant. You couldn’t help but admire him for being always ahead of the deadlines and thinking up new innovative ways that made you the best on the market. He was a great asset to your brother’s company, everyone valued and respected Hongjoong for all the dedication and hard work he put into his craft.

You were startled out of your thoughts as Hongjoong returned, holding a satin shirt on a green hanger. He had a grin on his lips as you stood, watching him approach you, ultimately making your heart hammer in your chest.

“So, you can borrow this for the evening.” Hongjoong said with a smile, taking the shirt off the hanger as he came to stand in front of you, “It’ll cover up the stain, and won’t make you feel too warm either.”

“Oh, I…that’s so kind of you, but I can’t accept it—”

“Nonsense,” Hongjoong chuckled, brushing you off without hesitation, “Do you want me to help you wear it?”

That would’ve been really embarrassing, so you quickly shook your head and took the shirt from his hands, your fingers accidentally brushing. Your cheeks were burning, and you avoided looking Hongjoong in the eyes as you carefully wore his shirt, trying to keep your screaming thoughts at bay. This felt like a daydream taken straight out of your teenage years. The seventeen-year-old you would be fainting right now if they were to know this would happen years later, even if Hongjoong wasn’t your boyfriend. The fabric was soft and didn’t feel suffocating, and you tried to ignore Hongjoong’s expensive cologne that seemed to cling to it. It had a hint of sweetness in it, but it was rather masculine and woody otherwise. And despite your family being gifted by the gods of height, you didn’t inherit that gene, which made you smaller than even Hongjoong, who wasn’t the tallest of people. The sleeves of the shirt covered your fingers, only your sparkly red nails visible—which was another scheme pulled by Seonghwa. You rarely did your nails red, let alone sparkly.

“Thank you, Hongjoong.” You said quietly, trying not to chew on your bottom lip since it would ruin your lipgloss, making your teeth tinted. And then, as if your heart wasn’t about to malfunction already, Hongjoong stepped closer to adjust the collar of his shirt. You froze and peeked up at him through your eyelashes, watching as a soft smile appeared on his lips. A few black strands fell into his eyes, and you could tell he had used a bit of dark eyeshadow to sharpen his eyes more, giving it depth. His skin was perfect and his pretty lips were red from the cherry lip balm he’s been using since forever.

“There, now it’s perfect,” Hongjoong muttered more to himself, still smoothing down the collar as he started helping you button up the shirt since you had forgotten you were supposed to do that in the first place. Your fingers trembled slightly from the adrenaline rush in your system, and you bit your bottom lip when your knuckles brushed against Hongjoong’s as your hands met while doing the buttons. Hongjoong huffed in amusement, then grabbed your arms to look at the sleeves. You watched him as you let him do as he wished, and he rolled up the sleeve twice so that it would fit you nicely. He looked gorgeous from up close, especially when he was in his element, doing what he liked the most. Sometimes you wondered why he hadn’t become a stylist, his vision was so beautiful, and you had seen the sketches he had made recently. You just knew his brand would be successful all around the world, his designs delicate and modest, but elegant and full of glamour. Now that the shirt was all done, all you had to do was put the hem inside your pants so that you didn’t look like you had just gotten out of bed and borrowed your boyfriend’s clothes.

You blushed even harder at the thought of Hongjoong being your boyfriend, and you were alarmed to find him already looking at you when you peeked at him. Hongjoong’s ears were redder than before, and he had a sheepish smile on his face. His cheeks were dusted a light pink too, and you wondered if his heart was racing as much as yours. You cleared your throat to thank him for his help when there was a loud knock on the open door, making you both jump. Hongjoong whirled around and awkwardly put some distance between you and himself as Seonghwa’s otherwise round eyes were now sharp and narrowed, a knowing smirk on his lips.

“Would you look at that! The two who were missing from the party, fraternizing in my office…” Seonghwa’s tone had a hint of teasing in it as he raised an eyebrow, his eyes slipping from you to his best friend. Hongjoong laughed awkwardly and rubbed his nape, throwing you a glance before he looked back at Seonghwa.

“I was just—”

“Is that Hongjoong’s shirt?” Seonghwa didn’t let his best friend speak as he pointed at you, now both eyebrows raised in surprise. You nodded, ready to explain yourself, but Seonghwa clearly didn’t care, “Did I miss something? Either way, it looks lovely on you, dear, even if it’s a bit too…roomy?”

“Seonghwa—”

Clearly, when your brother had set his mind onto something, he just wouldn’t listen to anyone, “I’m all for offering my office up to those in need, but maybe you should use Hongjoong’s the next time you want to cosy up. In fact—I might even give you, dear, an office. You’ve earned it after the year we had.”

You narrowed your eyes at your brother, opening your mouth to speak up, but he raised his hand, “Come on now, I’m about to make my speech and you’ll have to swap your presents.”

Right, the presents…for the person you had randomly picked out of a small vase. And that person was…Hongjoong, as cliché as that sounds. You cleared your throat as Seonghwa turned his back to you and Hongjoong, who gave you a curt nod and followed after his best friend in order to give you privacy so you could fix the shirt. You took a deep breath and stuffed the fabric into your pants, glad that you had worn a belt since it cut the outfit in half nicely.

The company was packed with employees, everyone looking excited as Seonghwa made his way towards the fake podium he had giddily asked Hongjoong to make for him. He had a microphone and everything to make it more enjoyable for him, all placed in front of the massive Christmas tree that had been a hassle to get inside the office, but also to decorate. Your brother’s company wasn’t huge, and that was exactly why it worked so well. Everyone was eager to move forward and make something bigger than them, so the community was tight-knit and hard-working. You were on the sales team, not quite in the leader position yet, but you were getting there. You enjoyed what you did and that was all that mattered, plus, the paycheck was pretty nice. And anytime you didn’t like something, you could always bug the CEO until he finally gave in to you…those were the perks of involving your family with your business, much to Seonghwa’s dismay at times.

You took your place behind your tallest co-workers, who were huddled together and watching something on Yunho’s phone. The waiter walked towards you and handed you a glass of champagne to toast with once your brother was done with his speech, and you couldn’t help but grin when Hongjoong came to stand next to you. He returned your grin, and when you looked away, he continued to stare at you with adoration, thinking to himself how cute you looked wearing his shirt. Hongjoong quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus on his best friend, who was standing on the podium made by him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you, everyone, for attending this little party. I am more than elated to announce that we have come close to another end of year where I can confidently say our company’s been doing better than ever. I am proud and happy to have a team so dedicated as you guys, and I hope the next year holds even greater things for us. Maybe the next party will be held on a private island, at the company’s expense, of course.” People chuckled around you, everyone was well aware you weren’t doing that well yet, but that was the goal. Mingi noticed you stood behind him and gave you a pout, making you pat his shoulder as Yunho glanced between you and Hongjoong, then grinned, “We’ve had our ups and downs this year, perhaps have faced even more challenges than before, but with everyone’s help, we pushed through and made the biggest profit of the company so far. I truly am so proud of each one of you, because, without you, I wouldn’t be standing here, able to live the dreams I’ve had since I was a kid. Before I end my speech, I’d like to especially thank Kim Hongjoong for bringing in our biggest partner, and for having great ideas that pushed our company towards success. When we were teenagers, everything that we have today was just a far-fetched dream, and now…we have it, Hongjoong, we did it, brother. I think it’s time we celebrate as we should.”

Everyone cheered as you watched your brother get teary-eyed, looking at Hongjoong with deep respect and love on his face. Hongjoong raised his glass of champagne and tipped it in Seonghwa’s direction, his composure collected, but you could see he had gotten a bit teary-eyed too. You smiled fondly as you watched your brother run his fingers through his long hair, a habit when he was nervous, and then he raised his glass, prompting the others to do so as well.

“Let us celebrate now, but please don’t mess up the electricity wiring like last year, I still have no idea how that happened…” Everyone looked amused as Seonghwa shook his head, then tipped his champagne back, and you followed as you took an experimental sip. It was a bit bitter and too bubbly, but you took a larger gulp out of respect for Seonghwa, “And now, let us open the presents! I hope nobody forgot whose Secret Santa they were!”

Right, the dreaded moment had come. You handed your glass of champagne to Yunho when you noticed he was already finished with his, and he gave you a wink as he quickly downed your champagne too. Now that the moment everyone had been waiting for came, you all migrated towards the big round table that was littered with gifts inside wrapping paper and small winter-themed bags. Yours was a smaller package with a blue font and white snowflakes on it, placed right in the middle of the table. You waited until you made it closer to the table, then leaned over to grab it with sweaty hands. You were nervous, but you were more scared that Hongjoong would hate his present. You truly hoped he didn’t, but then again, even if he did, you’d never be able to tell…Hongjoong had a great poker face. You turned around and looked for him, only to find him already approaching you. Surely, he wasn’t…wait, you quickly looked towards your brother, who was already watching you with an amused smirk. God, this is why you didn’t like telling Seonghwa anything about your crushes…he had always meddled, even back in high school.

You wanted the earth to eat you up as Hongjoong smiled at you sweetly, looking a bit embarrassed as he came to stand in front of you, “So, uh, we meet again.”

God, he could be so awkward at times, you chuckled embarrassed, “Right, as if we weren’t standing next to each other a second ago.”

But you weren’t better either, Mingi and Yunho, who had also somehow picked each other, snorted as they passed by you and Hongjoong, having overheard your conversation. Gosh, this was so embarrassing, you wanted to flip Seonghwa off and then drag him to his office and lecture him. You were pretty sure this wasn’t done by accident, there was no way on earth both Hongjoong and you had picked each other randomly.

“So, I know you don’t like the whole holiday season that much, but uhm, Merry Christmas.” Hongjoong handed you his gift with both hands, his eyes twinkling with excitement, and suddenly you didn’t hate the thought of gift-giving and receiving that much. You took your gift and handed him his.

“Merry Christmas, Hongjoong, and thank you for the gift too.” It felt awkward standing like that there, facing each other like two strangers, so you took your courage in your hands and stepped forward to hug him. Hongjoong’s eyes widened once he realised your intention, but he opened his arms as you came to hold his torso, making sure you wouldn’t dirty his blazer with your makeup despite it being transfer-proof. You could feel your heart hammer against your chest, and you hoped Hongjoong couldn’t feel it as he embraced you, holding you close as suddenly slow music started playing through the speakers. You knew it was Seonghwa’s doing because you could practically feel his eyes on you, but you ignored your annoying brother and focused on Hongjoong’s warmth instead. But to your surprise, he started slowly swaying the two of you to the rhythm of the song, humming next to your ear. You were both still holding your gifts, and the distance between your bodies made it a little awkward, but you weren’t about to say anything. Hongjoong has never held you like this before, you felt like you were soaring through the sky right now as you tried not to inhale loudly, hoping his scent would never leave your nostrils.

“We might as well dance since we are already embracing…” Hongjoong muttered and you hummed, stepping closer so that you could hold each other better. Your face was beat red and your stomach was doing back flips, but you were smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. You couldn’t be too sure that Hongjoong liked you back, there were small moments when he had tried getting closer or did something that was beyond a friendly gesture, but you didn’t want to face heartbreak in case this was just a one-sided crush…which it most probably was. You didn’t really think he’d finally notice you after all those years you had known each other, you also didn’t think you were much his type. He had always dated people who were like him, creative and basically in love with life, happy to be alive and ready to discover everything. You were more of the quiet type, content with living a comfortable life and never going out of your way to do too much. You liked your space and security, planning ahead and having a vision that would help you stay aligned with your purpose and wishes. Hongjoong wasn’t as organised and he went with the flow, unafraid and unapologetic. And despite the two of you being so different, you couldn’t help but find him the most interesting person you had ever come across.

            After an hour or so of dancing and enjoying your time with your co-workers, you were ready to take a breather. It was too cold outside and you were too overheated to go out, you couldn’t risk catching a cold right around the holidays, so you went back to the round table and took a seat, reaching for a clean cup to pour some peach juice for yourself. You didn’t get the chance to open your gift from Hongjoong yet, so, you grabbed it off the table again and looked through it, your eyes widening when you realised what Hongjoong had gotten for you. You had a bunny at home, a sweet little white thing called Star because it was supposed to be Seonghwa’s initially, but he had discovered he was allergic to her, so he had to give her away. Seonghwa and you had always loved bunnies, so your brother knew she was in safe hands with you. And Hongjoong, the always thoughtful person, had bought various treats for your little Star. But that wasn’t everything, a pink princess costume was packed neatly inside the bag as well, making you grin from ear to ear. Star would look lovely in that, Seonghwa will absolutely love it too once you send him pictures.

But that wasn’t all as you reached inside to grab the small jewellery box, your mouth felt a little bit dry. You paused and looked around, wanting to make sure no one was watching you, but secretly you were also looking for Hongjoong. He was on the dance floor, entertaining Yunho and Mingi who were spinning him around. Hongjoong’s cheeks were red and he kept laughing, the contagious sound reached your ears and made you smile as something warm spread through your chest. Gosh, sometimes you really wish you didn’t have a crush on the most adorable man in the whole world. Glancing back down at your last gift, you braced yourself and opened it up, only for your jaw to drop open. There, in the dainty box, sat a rose gold necklace with a diamond pendant. It wasn’t the fact that Hongjoong had gifted you a diamond necklace that made your heart race, but the fact that you’ve always wanted one in this style. Maybe some would consider you shallow, but you have always liked diamonds. They were gorgeous in the light, and if the stone wasn’t too big, it looked gorgeous. You gulped, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions because you had been mentioning the fact that you’d want to buy yourself a diamond necklace once you could afford it ever since you were just a little kid. To be fair, you had always thought Seonghwa would be the one to surprise you and gift you this, but coming from Hongjoong…you tried to gulp down the lump in your throat.

This wasn’t helping with your one-sided crush, because now all you wanted to do was run up to Hongjoong and kiss him while you cried. The fact that he had even paid enough attention to remember your biggest wish managed to knock you breathless, you needed a second to gather yourself. Your hands shook slightly as you raised it to your eyes, taking in the pendant, and admiring its beauty. It was perfect. The same size and shape you had always envisioned, it was modest and gorgeous. You released a shuddering breath just as you realised someone was approaching you, and your eyes were a little watery as you looked up. Seonghwa had a soft smile on his lips as he walked up to you, and then crouched down in front of you.

“Hey,” He greeted you softly, looking down at the necklace in your hands. He didn’t even seem surprised, he looked pleased as he hummed, looking back up at you, “You opened your presents, I see. I bet you love it, don’t you?”

“It’s a diamond necklace, Hwa,” You whispered, eyes widening slightly, “From Hongjoong. This is…crazy. I know I’ve been mentioning it for ages, but I didn’t think that he…”

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows at you as you trailed off, seemingly lost for words, “That he was listening? Hongjoong has always paid attention to you, dear.”

Really? Was that true? Seonghwa wouldn’t lie to you, you felt your heart race all of a sudden. Seonghwa reached out and took the necklace from your hands, walking around you once he stood up. He pulled your hair to the side and clipped the necklace in place, making you reach up to touch the pendant. It was the perfect length too, why was Hongjoong so perfect when he couldn’t even be yours? You sniffed and willed your tears to go away, pouting a little as Seonghwa walked around to come face-to-face with you again. He grinned and grabbed your hands, pulling you up.

“Don’t cry, you’ll ruin your pretty makeup,” He teased you with a wink and you groaned, bottling your feelings up for later, when you were alone and in the safety of your apartment, where only Star could witness your crying session, “I know it’s not technically Christmas yet and that we’ll see each other back home in less than three days for the annual feast, but I got you a present too.”

See, there was no denying that Seonghwa and you were siblings. You grinned and reached inside your pants pocket, grabbing the Spa Coupon you had gotten for him.

“You deserve to relax, you’ve done a lot for the company.” Seonghwa patted your head, messing up your hair a little bit in true brother fashion, “And you can’t use your phone while you’re there, dear, that’s not how you relax.”

Seonghwa handed over the small ticket, and you stared at it for a second before you burst out laughing. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched you, but then his face turned incredulous before he started laughing too once you handed him your gift for him. Seonghwa had bought you a Spa Coupon too, from the same place you had bought his too. You laughed as you waved your coupons at each other, already knowing you’d get a scolding from your mother for not being a bit more creative with your gifts.

“Wait, don’t tell me you got one for mom too…” Seonghwa trailed off, his eyes widening slightly.

“Let me guess, you got one for dad too?” You raised an eyebrow and Seonghwa nodded innocently, prompting you to shake your head as you both snickered.

“Well, seems like we’ll be spending some quality time as a family over the break.” Seonghwa grinned, pocketing his coupon, and then he placed his hands behind his back, looking somewhere behind you.

“Ugh, great, now mom won’t get off my back about me finding a boyfriend somehow finally.” You grimaced, not keen on going home only to listen to your mother’s nagging. She never stopped asking, never stopped trying to set you up on blind dates. It was annoying because she never did that for Seonghwa…at least you had a crush, he couldn’t even bother with that.

“Speaking of boyfriends…” Seonghwa wriggled his eyebrows and you groaned, ready to deny whatever he was about to say, but it wasn’t what you were expecting, “Did you notice you were sitting under a mistletoe?”

“What?” You muttered, looking up confused. Now how the hell did that get there? If you reckon correctly, it wasn’t there like half an hour ago, you had come to the table to grab a drink and it wasn’t there, so how—Seonghwa. The answer was always Seonghwa, “I swear to God, Hwa, you’re my brother. What are you plotting? I refuse to peck even as much as your cheek.”

“I won’t even get a hug?” Seonghwa fake pouted, his eyes glinting wickedly. Nothing good came when Seonghwa had that look in his eyes, you gulped nervously.

“No, now—”

“Fine.” Seonghwa sighed exaggeratedly, “Hate me all you want, but I’m the best brother in the world. If you won’t show me some love, I know exactly who else you could cheer up right now—Hongjoong, can you come over for a little bit?!”

Your eyes widened and you whacked Seonghwa in the chest, turning around frantically. Oh no, Hongjoong was already approaching with a skip in his step, unassuming of what he was walking up to. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was deliciously brushed back, his blazer gone and the top buttons of his shirt undone.

“Yeah? You need something?” He called as he walked around the table and Seonghwa stepped aside, making your eyes widen.

“Sure, come here for a second,” Seonghwa said nonchalantly, and by the time you opened your mouth to tell Hongjoong not to fall for Seonghwa’s trap, it was too late. Seonghwa stepped aside and lightly pushed Hongjoong towards you, making both of you panic as you grabbed Hongjoong’s arm so he wouldn’t accidentally fall.

“What—”

“Attention, everyone!” Seonghwa called loudly, shouting over the music, and you were terrified. Hongjoong looked rather confused and looked at you for an answer that you couldn’t formulate at the moment, “We have our first couple under the mistletoe for the night! Now, kiss!”

Everyone was watching the two of you now, and you wanted to strangle Seonghwa as he smirked at you pleased, throwing him a wink when Hongjoong gave your brother a flabbergasted look. He slowly looked up, then back at you, and you started sweating.

“Uhm, we don’t have to, obviously. This tradition is silly, I don’t—”

But it was too late, the whole office was chanting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Hongjoong had turned red in the face, it went down even to his neck. He gulped and chuckled awkwardly, and you felt horrible. Of course, he wouldn’t want to kiss you, this was terrible and you felt humiliated. Just as you were about to excuse yourself and run off, Hongjoong cleared his throat.

“Well, this isn’t how I wished for our first kiss to happen, but…” He motioned around himself, at all the people staring at you expectantly, “May I kiss you?”

“You—I’m sorry, but—you want to kiss me?” You sputtered out, feeling a bit lightheaded.

“I’ve wanted to for ages.” Hongjoong chuckled and scratched the back of his head. He was blushing and so were you, your heart thudding in your chest as Hongjoong licked his lips, waiting for your answer.

“Yes, okay, yeah, kiss me, Hongjoong.” Damn Seonghwa and everyone else for cheering upon hearing your words, but maybe it was worth it as Hongjoong giggled while leaning in, his eyes fluttering closed. His lips were soft and tasted like cherry, and you felt like pudding as your lips locked in an innocent peck that lasted for a second too long. You felt like a teenager all over again, and if seventeen years old you could catch a glimpse into the future and see this exact moment, she’d definitely pass out.

“So, do you want to go on a date tomorrow?”

“God, yes, Hongjoong, please.”

Yeah, seventeen-year-old you would not survive this.

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[a-tiny-thing]

Popular, Boy

☆ 01: The first beg

Pairings: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, slow burn, angst, smut, drama, dark academic, love triangle.

wc: 8.0k

Summary: Your world is shaken when Hongjoong, a desperate nerd yearning for popularity and your attention, swallows his pride dropping to his knees, begging for your help and eager to prove his loyalty, he would do anything you want, but he must pay the price of his ambition.

This is just the beginning. This is just his first beg...

Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse, bullying, public humiliation, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, suggestive.

Series Masterlist

☆02: The first claim. Coming Soon

“YN, our little pet is coming.” You hear one of your friends say. You smile but your sight never leaves the screen of your phone.

Why is Seonghwa not answering your messages? You're supposed to have a date after school, but he just left you on seen… again.

You are not yet a couple, but you treat each other as one, something that is completely wrong, yet you continue to do it.

You scoff when Mindy does the same thing, but only for different reasons “Finally you're here, what took you so long, pet?” The brown haired drop his head down in embarrassment, but says nothing “I asked you something, are you deaf?” Your friend stands up walking towards him, she slaps the notebooks in his hands making them spread onto the floor “When I ask you something you have to answer, fucking slave. Now pick up that mess.” Mindy says with an evil smile, sitting beside you again. Your other friends laugh and you know something it's coming.

“Yes, yes…. I… I'm sorry.” The boy stutters, and drops to his knees.

You roll your eyes while turning off your phone, Seonghwa is not going to answer even if you give death stares to your phone.

You decide to pay attention to the things happening in front of you, and in the middle of the whole cafeteria, where all the students are watching like is a fucking TV show.

A boy is kneeling in front of Mindy picking up the mess of notebooks and paper sheets. He's picking everything in a hurry, he must be so scared.

You don’t know a lot about him but you know his name and the basics. Kim Hongjoong, he's in your class and is a complete loser. Always with those ugly glasses and baggy old man clothes. He's intelligent, he has the best grades in the whole school. In simple words, he's a nerd.

He is part of the nerdy slaves that you and your friends have, always there for you and your scholar needs. Being the queen bee of college has a lot of advantages, everyone loves you (or hates you) and you can have whatever you like in a snap. Nobody will complain about it.

Being pretty and rich can do a lot of thighs.

Suddenly; you feel a little tap on your shoulder by Mindy at your side. She is holding her drink above the boy's head. You smile, nodding. Your friends and some students started laughing when the strawberry liquid covered his hair and clothes, wetting the floor and some notebooks.

“Oh my god, the little puppy made a mess!” One of your girls says pointing at the boy on his knees.

Hongjoong feels his face hot with embarrassment. He is used to public humiliations, but whenever it happens in front of you, the humiliation feels a thousand times worse.

You hear laughs and other cruel words making you smile in hilariously, but it is when he snaps his head at your side, his eyes full of tears and begging, and for the first time you feel empathy for someone.

“Quit it.” You say still looking at him, and slowly everyone gets silent, till nothing is heard “Let him go and call someone to clean this fucking mess.” Taking your stuff, you're able to see him down his head to cover the little smile in his lips, and you roll your eyes in annoyance. You're not defending him, only his big eyes clouded your evil for a moment and you're going to make it clear for him “You have to buy me new notebooks, pet.”

When you remark the nasty nickname you can see a spark of hurt in his eyes, but you ignore it and you stand up to go to class, your friends following you laughing and throwing dirty looks at him.

Hongjoong; still on his knees, looking at you with shame, he is hurt by your words and he didn't have any idea that those notebooks were yours. He sees you walk away in that little pink skirt and white high heels that he loves to see you in, he doesn't pay attention to the mocks other students make about him. He just picks up the ruined notebooks, stands up and walks to the nearest bathroom.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, hair wet and sticky for the sweet drink, tarnished glasses, and his clothes a complete mess. He feels like everyone calls him.

A loser.

And he hates it, he hates himself. He hates that everyone repudiates him just because of the way he looks. How sick must society be to judge your appearance?

He wishes he could be better, for him and for you. He swears to god that he would do everything to be at your level and make you feel proud to be by his side.

He's been in love with you since the first day of his freshman year of college. He loves everything about you… well, he doesn't love how you treat him sometimes, and the strange relationship you have with Seonghwa, but leaving that aside, he has the biggest crush on you he could ever have on someone.

He loves your long, silky brown hair, he loves your pretty deer eyes that every time you see him, even if it's with repudiation, they make him blush. God, he loves your lips, your beautiful and glossy lips, always looking so kissable. He loves your body which seems sculpted by god himself, your curves make many men desire and even him. And finally, he loves it when you wear mini skirts and high stockings, you just look beautiful and he would give everything to compliment you and maybe do something more suggestive while wearing them.

He just wishes he was with you, but he doesn't know how to change and prove it to you.

Prove that he is worth it, he will try, he will try to change for you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

As he said, he spent the whole weekend buying stylish clothes online, and buying a lot of accessories such as earrings, rings and chains. He also pierced his ears (it hurted like hell) he looked for fashion pages, skincare routines and how to style his hair.

Oh! And he bought you pretty notebooks and also rewrote all your notes and exercises.

He was willing to show off a new style at school tomorrow, the only thing he forgot was changing the big ass glasses… but maybe he can look good after he uses cool clothes, or at least he hopes so.

He arrives at school full of nerves, sweaty hands and feeling like a clown.

He woke up earlier than he usually does to get ready. He is thankful that fashion apps exist to help people without a sense of fashion like him. He made a mess in the bathroom trying to get a good hairstyle while watching a TikTok tutorial and he almost ripped his ear trying to put on earrings for the first time, but at the end he was satisfied with the results, he looked like the popular guys in his school and he felt a little bit of faith.

Maybe you will see him differently now, maybe you will finally see him.

Before going out of his house, his mother were surprise seeing his son wearing new brand clothes, accessories and his hair unusually styled, he really looked good and she complement him a lot saying how handsome her son is, and she even tried to take a picture like it was the fucking prom night, but now standing infront of the school he was feeling terrified.

“Hongjoong?” He snaps his head towards the voice calling him “God, you look like a new person, man!” The tall guy compliments him with a wide smile, he approaches Hongjoong while adjusting his glasses, not believing what he is seeing.

“Thank you, Yunho… But I don't feel different.” He mutters, looking at his new clothes.

He was wearing a simple white shirt, black pants, black leather jacket and boots, and he added some accessories to make the outfit look better.

“You do look different, but you are our same Joong.”

“Is what I’m saying, Yeosang” Yunho says to the boy who calmly approaches them “Just wait till Jongho sees you, he will—”

“You look like an idiot.” Yunho is interrupted by Jongho’s voice “What did you do to yourself?” He asks, eyeing him with a grimace.

Hongjoong looks at his clothes again, Jongho’s comment causing regret of trying to change what he is... A loser.

Yunho hit the youngest head, making him hiss in pain “You look great, Joong. Don't pay attention to this asshole, he is just jealous.”

“Jealous? Sure.” He rolls his eyes “Whatever, lets see how YN’s group will treat you.”

Jongho starts to walk to the main entrance, leaving him with Yunho and Yeosang. Hongjoong glare at his two friends, concerned “Do I look that bad?”

“Of course not.” Yeosang shakes his head.

“No! You look cool, maybe like this you finally get a girlfriend.” Yunho jokes, slapping his arm “Come on, let's get going.”

As Hongjoong walked through the halls of the school, he was able to see how several students looked at him with amazement and confusion. He knew that most of them were making fun of him, but he decided not to pay attention. The opinion that mattered most to him at this moment was yours.

✮ ⋆

During lunch, Hongjoong walks toward you and your friends to give you the notebooks he bought for you after scraping them last week. His clothes are more fashionable than usual. His hair is styled neatly, and he wears a fitted black jacket and jeans, trying to look more confident after the compliments he received from his friends.

You are sitting with your group, chatting, when you notice…. Hongjoong approaching? Is that him or you are confusing him with another person?

“Is that Hongjoong?” You hear Mindy asking aloud.

Hongjoong, looking a bit nervous, adjusts his jacket, trying to look more at ease “YN I… I bought you new notebooks like you said.” He says while he gives you the beautiful notebooks, with curiosity you take them carefully, still observing his radical change of look “Also I rewrote all your notes.” He scratches the back of his head, nervously.

Scanning him up and down, there's a moment of hesitation before you respond, unsure how to react “Well yeah… As you should do.” You glanced at your friends, who are all now looking at Hongjoong in various states of amusement and confusion “Thanks… I guess.”

“What on earth happened to you?” Mindy laughs, raising an eyebrow “What’s with the clothes, pet? Trying to be one of us now?” She smirks, eyes scanning him, clearly not impressed.

You frown slightly, sensing the tone of your friend. You know how cruel she can be when she hates someone, because you are just like that. But Hongjoong has done nothing to you, yet.

“I think he’s just trying something new. It’s... nice that he’s, you know, stepping out of his ugly clothes zone.” You try to defend him subtly.

Mindy shrugs, still smirking, “Babe, no amount of new cheap clothes is gonna change the fact that he’s still a total nerd.” She snickers, flipping her hair “Look at him. Trying so hard to be on our level. It’s sad, really.” You look at her with a little smile, she is not wrong, though.

A group of students walk by, to be more specific, it is the football team. Made up of the rich and handsome boys of the school. The main hosts are Seonghwa, San, Mingi and Wooyoung... And of course, we couldn't miss that they are friends and something else, of you and your group. They snicker as they notice Hongjoong’s new look.

“Do you see this? Hongjoong’s playing dress-up now. What a joke” Wooyoung whispers to Seonghwa, but loud enough for Hongjoong to hear, causing him to put down his head in shame.

Seonghwa laughs, shaking his head “Nice try, man. You’ll always be the same kid no matter how many jackets you buy.” He steps closer to where you are sitting, and bends down to give you a kiss on the lips.

You smile at him and force him to sit next to you. Hongjoong swallows his jealousy when he sees such a scene.

“Yeah, dude, you’re still the same geek. Just a geek in a fancy jacket. No one’s gonna buy it.” San laughs along.

Hongjoong; feeling his face flushes with embarrassment pulls at his jacket sleeves, but he lifts his head up high. His voice shakes a little, but he forces a smile “I’m just... trying to fit in. I thought maybe people would treat me differently, that’s all.” He opens up, but he just hears chuckles.

“Fit in? Honey, you’re never gonna fit in. You’ve always been the weird kid, and this little makeover using cheap stuff isn’t gonna change that.” Mindy says while laughing loudly, clearly enjoying hongjoong’s discomfort “You should’ve stuck to your glasses and ugly clothes, at least then people wouldn’t be laughing at you.”

You were smiling, but feeling uncomfortable. You know that sometimes you can be the biggest bitch and cruel person but this time you're not going to lie, he looks good with that style. You dare say he looks attractive, something you never thought you would say about him.

Hongjoong, who is now looking down, his shoulders slump… you feel sorry for him “I think you look fine, Hongjoong. Honestly. It’s just... losers aren’t going to change overnight.” Your voice is surprisingly gentle, trying to offer him some comfort.

At your words his smile fades, and he sighs softly, clearly discouraged, but he tries to keep his composure “Yeah... I guess you're right. It’s just... hard, you know? I thought... Maybe this time, I could make a difference.” He looks down, visibly defeated and walks away.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and students begin to disperse. You watch Hongjoong as he walks away, feeling a pang of guilt and sympathy.

“Seriously, though. Who does he think he’s fooling? He’ll never be one of us, and let alone wearing second-hand clothes.” You hear Mindy whispering to the others.

You shake your head, rolling your eyes “Mindy, that’s enough.” You stand up, pushing back your chair.

“Calm down, YN. He is just a nerd, why are you so worried about him?”

“I said, it's enough. So please shut the fuck up.”

Wooyoung laughs “You heard the queen, shut the fuck up Mindy, you’re annoying.” He mocks her, making her angry.

You ignore their bickering and decide to watch Hongjoong walk away, a little conflicted. You don't understand why you suddenly feel this way for him, three days ago you still saw him as just a loser... But now you think he's a pretty cute loser.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

It's been a week, and you were able to see the way Hongjoong worked hard every day, wearing cute clothes and different hairstyles every day. You don't deny it, every day that passes you see him more attractive.

Even some students, or more specifically, some other losers noticed his change too. Girls started to notice his beauty and boys envied him, but nothing more.

In the eyes of others, he is still a nerd wearing nice clothes and even you have come to think that, but you prefer to stay quiet instead of humiliating him like Mindy or Seonghwa friends love to do. As they are doing right now.

“Just stop pretending to be one of us and go back with your nerdy friends.”

“Your low class exists only to serve us.”

“You're just a loser in cheap clothes.”

And the teasing is not going to stop until someone does, but you're not going to be the one to do it.

“Don't you get tired of your little group of clowns saying stupid things?” The laughter was tempered by paying attention to the annoyed girl in front of you, and next to a kneeling Hongjoong. He looked at her amazed, no one had ever defended him. But you look at the girl with a grin, who the fuck thinks she is to talk at you like that? She is wearing loose and ugly clothes, round glasses decorating her delicate face, and it is obvious that she is just another loser. "You should start studying instead of wasting your time doing all this."

You stop Wooyoung when you see him trying to stand up and start arguing with the girl.

“Excuse me, but… Who are you?” You ask with a soft voice like you're talking to a little girl. You have never seen this girl before “And why do you meddle in something that is none of your business?”

Raising your brows in surprise, you look how the girl rolls her eyes and takes Hongjoong’s arm, forcing him to get up from the floor “Knowing my name is none of your business, spoiled girl.”

You scoff, watching her walk with a completely astonished and confused Hongjoong.

That bitch doesn't know who she is dealing with.

“Sannie.”

“Yes?” He answers, coming out of his own astonishment, no one had ever spoken to you like that and much less had anyone defended that nerd.

“Find out who she is. I want her name, age, address and what class she is in.” You order him without taking your eyes off those two heading to the school's backyard “Call me when you have the information.”

“Of course, pretty.”

✮ ⋆

“Wait.” Hongjoong says once they are in the garden, away from everyone. He breaks free from the strange girl's grip.

The girl turns to look at him confused “What happened? Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

He looks at her strangely, who the hell is she? And why did she defend him? She must be a new student, no one will ever dare to talk to you and the others in that way.

“Why did you do that?”

“Because they were being mean with you, nobody deserves to be treated like that.”

“But you don't even know me.” He couldn't believe that someone was worried about him.

“I don't have to know you, I just wanted to help.” She smiles shyly, red creeping to her cheeks when Hongjoong stares at her eyes.

“Well, thanks…” He mutters “I'm Hongjoong.”

“I… I'm Dann, I'm a transfer student.” It's been a week since she arrived at this school. His beauty has chased her since the first moment she saw him in the library, and she cannot deny the little crush she has on him.

Hongjoong lets out a sigh, now he knows why she is so bold. She has no idea how things work in this school.

“Listen.” He begins “I appreciate your concern, but don't do it again–”

“Why? Because they are the cliché rich kids?” She scoffs, crossing her arms.

Hongjoong sighs again “Because they can be more than just cruel, especially the girl you addressed.”

“That rich girl sitting in the middle of all those clowns?” Hongjoong nods “I don't care, she's just another mean rich girl. Nothing new.”

Hongjoong closes his eyes with another tired sigh. If only she knew.

And if only he knew that they were going to get along instantly.

After that day, they spend their breaks together in the library sharing their tastes in books and random topics, and to his surprise they have a lot of things in common.

Since that day, they started being friends, and Dann couldn't be more happy.

“See you tomorrow Dann, we have to discuss the science book.” Hongjoong says while tousling her hair slightly.

Dann smiles with his cheeks burning “Sure, see you tomorrow, Joong.”

He says goodbye with a beautiful smile that makes her sigh like a fool, she sees him leave without erasing his smile... Maybe it's too early to tell him that he likes it?

Yes, it's definitely too early.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“Dann, can you help me please? I'm in a hurry!”

The girl sighs, but she goes where her mother is in the kitchen “What do you need?”

“Take this to Mrs. Clarke's daughter." The woman says as she hands Dann a tray with lemonade and chopped fresh fruit.

“I don't even know her, how do you expect me to find her in this big ass house?” She asks, rolling her eyes.

“She is in the pool, and she is the only young lady in this house.”

“I’m a young lady too.” She teases and her mother chuckles.

“You know what I meant Dann.” Dann laughs, and heads towards the back exit of the large house where the garden and pool are located.

Since her mother started working here, two weeks ago, she was delighted with the Clarke’s family mansion and so was she. It is a spectacular house full of luxuries that is scary to even see for fear of breaking something. Because of how expensive everything looks, she doubts that she and her mother can afford it if it ever happens.

Being already at the entrance of the immense garden she could see in the distance a huge pool with elegant edges and lounge chairs that seemed to be made of pure gold, leaning on one of the chairs is a girl in a beautiful bikini and sunglasses.

“She must be her.” Dann mutters slowly approaching the young girl that seems to be sleeping, or that was she thought “Excuse me, miss Clarke.” She says with a soft voice, it's the first time she has interacted with the daughter of his mother's bosses, she must have given a good impression “I brought you what you asked for.” She says as she is getting closer and closer to where the girl is, that for some reason she is kind of familiar.

Her mouth opens in awe as the girl gets up and removes her sunglasses.... Shit, it's the girl she faced last week at school, dammit.

You can't believe what your eyes are seeing. Leaving your glasses aside, you sit straight watching the girl from days ago approach with a tray.

What a fucking coincidence.

“Hello again.” You say with a mocking tone seeing her stiff the moment she is just steps away from you “You can let the stuff here.” You point at the little table next to you. She doesn't say anything but does what you said. Suddenly your phone rings, and seeing San’s name on the screen makes you take it in a hurry “San?”

“Hi, doll. I have what you asked for.”

“Go ahead.” You smile as you lie back again without taking your eyes off the girl who is waiting for you to give her the order to leave.

“Her name is Seo DannWo, she is nineteen years old, she is in her first year of school and recently moved to Seoul.”

“What about her parents?”

“There is no information about her father, but her mother works for rich people.”

You let out a scoff, and then address the girl "What's your name? Or is it still none of my business?”

She lowers her gaze and murmurs "DannWo."

“Last name?”

“Seo.”

And finally you really laugh, you think all this is quite funny “Thank you Sannie, on Monday I have something very important to say to you, goodbye!” You hang up and sigh, eyeing her up and down. She is not wearing a maid uniform, so you assume that only her mother works here “I don't think your mother can pay the tuition with her salary, do you have a scholarship?”

Of all that Dann imagined you would ask her, she never imagined that you would ask that question.

“No, I… My mom asked your parents to help her give me a better education.”

You nod, your smile getting bigger and bigger “You also live here with the rest of the staff?” She nods with her head down “So my parents gave your mom a job, they paid for your tuition, you live here and you still talk to me that way last week?” You ask with a mocking pout.

She immediately denies it, almost scared. She doesn't want to get his mom in a problem with your family just because of what she did “No, no! I had no idea who you were, I didn't do it on purpose, I just wanted to help Joong.”

You frown at that nickname “Joong? Are you two best friends now or something? You don't even know him and–” Of course, that must be “Oh my god.” You giggle covering your mouth, she cannot be for real right now “You like him, don't you?” You see how her cheeks redden and she plays with her hands in an anxious gesture, you scoff “Don't worry, I don't pretend to tell him.” Your smile fades, for some reason a hint of jealousy surrounds you “You can leave now.”

Without thinking twice, Dann says goodbye with a nod and returns inside the house, almost running. You smile mischievously, you're going to have a lot of fun with her.

You put a strawberry in your mouth and while you chew, you take your phone and go to the kitchen, where you assume she has gone and indeed. When you enter the huge kitchen you see her next to an older woman, she must be his mother.

Dann manages to see you out of the corner of her eye and curses internally, she's still nervous about what just happened out there and she's afraid you'll tell her mom what she did last week.

“Excuse me…” You say in a fake sweet tone that almost makes Dann roll her eyes.

The woman turns around and gives you a smile when she recognizes you “Hello dear, do you need anything?”

“Oh no, I just wanted to confirm something.” You smile when you see the panic in Dann's eyes.

The lady looks at you a little confused but doesn't ask any more “Very well, if you need anything else don't hesitate to tell me.”

“In fact, I need something, can you pick up what I left near the pool? I'm full, but still thank you for your effort cutting all those fruits for me.” The mockery in your tone does not go unnoticed by both women, Dann feels anger immediately but before she can tell you anything impudent her mother speaks.

“Of course, miss YN, in a moment I will.” She says kindly, giving little importance to her discomfort.

You nod with a smile but then you make a slight playful grimace “Why doesn't she do it?” You point out the minor without embarrassment, who frowns in annoyance.

“She is not part of the staff, she is my daughter.”

You open your eyes with fake surprise “Ahh... I didn't know, as she was the one who attended me a few minutes ago. I thought that my parents were doing some kind of charity by giving work to a little girl.” You shrug your shoulders letting out the sweetest giggle you can. “Sorry for the confusion.” Your fake pout makes Dann boil with rage.

She clenches her fists furiously, if she thought you were a spoiled child before, now she has it more than confirmed. Now she understands what Hongjoong told her the day she confronted you.

“Don't worry, miss YN.” The woman smiled uncomfortably.

“Anyway, goodbye.” You cynically say goodbye to both of them and head to your room trying not to laugh loudly.

It will certainly be a lot of fun to have her around.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“Her mother works at your house?! Oh my god!” She is such a loser.” Mindy says aloud and you smile nodding.

Your friends laugh when the mentioned girl walks through the cafeteria holding her tray with breakfast, looking for a place to sit. You frown when you see her make her way to the table where Hongjoong and his friends are sitting.

“Mindy, shouldn't Hongjoong give us our chemistry homework?” You ask Mindy without taking your eyes off those two.

She nods “That's right, love. I don't know why it's taking him so long if it's delivered after lunch.” At her complaint, you point to where he is sitting, she turns to look and smiles mockingly when she notices Dann talking calmly with Hongjoong “It's obvious that that bitch is flirting with him, oh god… What a pity.”

Your lips curl into a smug smile as you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms "Babe, why don’t you go remind Hongjoong of his priorities?”

Mindy immediately grabs her bag and stands, flipping her hair over her shoulder "With pleasure." The rest of the group snickers, their laughter carrying across the cafeteria.

You watch as Mindy strides toward Hongjoong's table, where Dann is animatedly gesturing about something, her face lighting up with every word. Hongjoong chuckles, and your perfectly sculpted eyebrows furrow slightly.

It’s been two fucking weeks since then, and now they are this close?

"She’s bold, I’ll give her that" You mutter under your breath. Then louder, so your friends can hear, "Too bad boldness doesn’t equal brains."

The table erupts into laughter again, gaining the attention of more people in the cafeteria, but your focus remains on the scene playing out before you.

Mindy taps Hongjoong’s shoulder with a perfectly manicured finger "Hongjoong." She says sweetly, but her tone carries an edge, "I was wondering where my and YN’s homework is. You know, the one that’s due after lunch? Maybe you should focus on that instead of… whatever this is." She gestures vaguely toward Dann.

Dann’s expression hardens, but she doesn’t back down "We’re just talking. Is that a problem?"

"Who does she think she is?" You mutter, more to yourself than anyone else.

Mindy raises an eyebrow "Not for me, but maybe it’s a problem for someone who knows how things work around here."

Hongjoong shifts uncomfortably, glancing between the two girls "I’ve got the homework, Mindy. I’ll bring it to you and YN before lunch, okay?"

“Joong, you don't have to keep doing this crap! You—”

Mindy cuts her off, her tone icy "Trust me, nerd, I’m doing him a favor." She leans closer, smirking. Dann opens her mouth to retort, but Mindy’s already pivoting back to Hongjoong, ignoring her "It’s so sweet how she’s trying to stick up for you, though. Like a little puppy following everywhere. Does she know?" She says with mock, leaning in conspiratorially, voice dropping just for him to hear "Does she know you’re only doing this because you think YN’s going to +notice you?+ God, that’s adorable."

Hongjoong’s face burns red. He stammers, "It’s not like that—"

"Oh, it’s exactly like that." Mindy interrupts, her grin widening "But keep dreaming, pet. Maybe someday she will, I don’t know, let you carry her books or something."

The laughter grows louder, and Dann stands abruptly, slamming her tray on the table "Why don’t you shut up, Mindy?" She snaps, her voice shaking with anger.

"Dann, stop." Hongjoong said through gritted teeth, cutting her off. He pushes his chair back and stands, glaring at her "You’re not helping."

"But Hongjoong—"

"I said stop!" He snaps, his voice louder than he intended.

The cafeteria falls quiet for a moment, and Hongjoong looks around, realizing everyone’s staring at him. His face burns hotter, and he storms out of the cafeteria without another word. Dann hesitates for a moment, torn between following him and staying put, but Mindy’s triumphant smirk keeps her rooted in place.

"Wow, pet got mad." You say, and your friend chuckles.

Hongjoong, who storms down an empty hallway, his anger bubbling over. He clenches his fists, his mind racing with humiliation and frustration. He thinks of you and your perfect, untouchable world. For a brief, desperate moment, he feels like everything would be better if he were part of it, if you wanted him, if he belonged with you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

It's finally Friday, not much happened this week besides the constant martyrdom of seeing Dann and Hongjoong together, they looked like ticks, together everywhere.

But taking away your annoyance, you couldn't stop thinking about how good Hongjoong looked that you almost forgot that he was still a nerdy. You couldn't deny that his new look was totally your type, you noticed the way he plays around with different textures in order to highlight some clothes, but he always keeps it cool and trendy.

And you love it, and If he wasn't a nobody, you swear you'd already flirted with him, but life isn't perfect.

You were walking through the school’s garden while waiting for the class you skipped to end, your friends warned you that the teacher already had you under his strict gaze and if you didn't attend his class he would fail you. In any case, there is no one who can resist a good bribe with banknotes.

Letting out a bored sigh, you lean your back on the trunk of a tree while you take out a strawberry-flavored cigarette and light it by taking a puff. It’s spring so the sun is intense and the leaves of the trees are a beautiful green color, without realizing it you are appreciating the landscape.

Hongjoong sees you from afar, appreciating your beauty and overthinking if it is a good idea what he wants to ask you. Taking a deep breath he starts to walk towards you, heart pounding as he walks closer. Your glossy lips curled in mild annoyance when you looked at him.

"Hongjoong.” You say, dragging hard on the cigarette "What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be hiding in class answering everything the teacher asks?"

Without thinking Hongjoong drops to his knees, so fast that the sound of them hitting the soil reverberates through the place. You blink, startled.

"Please." He says, his voice cracking "I’ll do anything. Just make me popular."

You raise an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smirk. You know that he is trying to change the way others see and treat him, you know of his efforts by changing the way he dresses, you know it very well. But you never imagined him begging on his knees to be popular.

"Anything?"

He stares up at you, his eyes wild and desperate "You don’t get it, I can’t do this anymore. Being invisible, being nobody. Please, YN. I’ll do whatever you want."

Tilting your head, you exhale a slow plume of smoke, watching the desperation in his eyes "You’re serious." You say slowly, your tone almost amused.

Hongjoong nods frantically, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes "Yes! Just tell me what to do. If you want me to do your homework forever, I will. If you want me to carry your bags, clean your shoes…. Anything."

"That's your dream, to be popular?" You say with mockery. Hongjoong nods again, his knees pressing harder into the soil.

"Yes! I’ll lie for you, hurt anyone you want, sell my soul for you. I’ll even—" His voice drops to a whisper, barely audible "I’ll kill for you. Just… please."

You study him for a long moment, the cigarette dangling between your fingers, your smirk returns "You’re pathetic, but I guess I could work with that."

Hongjoong’s heart leaps "Really? You will?"

You shrug, throwing away the cigarette "Maybe. But it’s going to cost you, Kim. Show me that you’re not just another sad little nerd with a crush.”

His eyes wide open, how did you know about his crush on you? He has always been so cautious.

“How did you…” His voice drops when he sees you smile.

“Oh, honey. It was obvious, the way you looked at me, the way you talked to me, and the way you tried to change just to fit.” You pat his head and scoff when you see him close his eyes, enjoying your touch. “That's why I’m going to give you a chance, but you have to prove you're worth my time.”

"I will," He says quickly, his voice rising in desperation "I’ll prove it, just tell me what to do."

You lean down, your face inches from his and he holds his breath, you look even more beautiful this close.

"Let’s start simple. Seo DannWo. She’s just another nerd following you around because she thinks you're cool.” A cruel smile curves your mouth “Cut her off, publicly. Humiliate her if you have to. Show me you’re serious about being popular."

Hongjoong hesitates, his breath hitching. For a moment, guilt flickers in his eyes, but it’s quickly snuffed out by the overwhelming need clawing at his chest.

"I will do it." He whispers, his voice hoarse.

You straighten, your smile widening "Good boy, you can sit with us today. See you at lunch."

As you turn and saunters away, leaving Hongjoong still on his knees, his fists clenched, and his heart pounding with equal parts shame and exhilaration. But if he wants to be at your side he would do anything for you.

✮ ⋆

Lunch time. Hongjoong had never felt scared to go there like today, not even when you and your friends humiliated him. Dann was the first and only person that has defended him and been friends with. He feels so bad, he doesn't want to do this… But if he wants to change and be with you, he must.

With heavy steps he walks towards the table you and your friends use everyday without looking where his friends are sitting.

“Joong!” Dann calls him with a smile when she sees him step in the place, and you did too.

You smile when Hongjoong ignores Dann. You settle better in your seat, setting aside your food to put all your attention on what would happen next.

“Joong, I saved you a seat next to me.” She grabs his jacket sleeve making him stop there, his friends looking at him strangely. He has been evading them since the last two hours of class. “We need to talk about the new volume of the book, we are going to read it together, right?”

Hoonjong closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for what he's going to do. He can feel your intense gaze on him “No, Dann. We are not going to read it together." He says letting go of her grip.

"What? Why not?” She asks, totally confused, they have worked together on projects since they met, more than three weeks ago.

“I have stuff to do with YN." He murmurs, it wasn’t a complete lie.

Dann rolls her eyes “If that rich girl is forcing you to do it just to take advantage of you, tell me and I'll put a damn stop to that brat." Dann says furiously, she can't let the boy she likes go through these situations.

“She didn't force me to do anything, I offered myself." Literally, he begged you on his knees "So find someone else to read the book."

And with that he walked to where you were observing everything. His friends made a sound of surprise when they saw him sitting next to you. What the hell is happening?

“What is he doing sitting with the queen bee?!” Yunho asks in shock, believing that his glasses need magnification because he can't believe what he's seeing.

“Is he crazy?” Yeosang blurts out in surprise.

Jongho simply frowns in confusion at his friend's sudden action... Why are you suddenly smiling at him and chatting with him as if you were friends from years ago?

Meanwhile; Dann is in complete shock and with a thousand questions running around in her head. How did that happen? Why did he act so distant with her? Did she do something that made him upset? And most importantly. What are you up to?

“So… is he going to Wooyoung’s party tomorrow night?” Mindy asks carefully, It was strange to have the nerd they humiliated for three years sitting in their group.

You gave the order to treat him as an equal... your reasons? They don't know them, but they don't intend to question you.

“Of course! It's going to be his welcome to our world.” You say giving Hongjoong a smile, which makes him blush and look away.

While you resume your lunch you feel an intense gaze on you, when you look up to see who is the person who seems to be penetrating you. You meet Dann's glance, you make eye contact and it seems that you are challenging each other. She challenges you with a hard look and you just smile and give her a wink before turning your attention to your social circle.

“Do you have a car, pet– I.. sorry, I mean. Hongjoong.” You friend let an awkward chuckle at your raised eyebrow, shit.

It will be complicated to call him by his name.

“No, I don't.” He mutters, feeling embarrassed. Not a minute has passed and his low status is already remarkable.

“It's okay, I will pick you up. Pass me your address.”

Your friends look at you a little surprised, you never pick anyone up. Not even them.

“I don’t… I don’t have your phone number.”

Without thinking much about it, you take his cell phone from the table and turn it on, frowning when you see that it asks for a password.

"Password." You say but with no intention of returning the phone.

Hongjoong opens his eyes in surprise, and regrets not changing it sooner “It's your birthday date.” He mumbles it so quietly that you can barely hear it.

You giggle and type in your birthday date, and your eyes widen when the phone is unlocked... For a moment you thought he was joking.

You quickly add your contact by registering it with your name and a red heart, and return it to him with an innocent smile.

“Give me your address, later I will give you the details of the party.”

He nods as he blushes at the sight of the heart next to your name. He just got your number. The bell makes known the end of lunchtime. You see your friends take their things and get up but you don't do any of that, you just watch them.

“Are you going to skip this class too?”

Mindy looks at you worried, you already have too many reports for doing so. Hongjoong looks at you waiting for your answer, he also didn't move from his place waiting for you to tell him what to do.

“I need to talk to our new member alone, I'll see you later.” You force them to leave and as usual, none of them question you and they say goodbye with their hand.

Suddenly, Hongjoong feels nervous to be alone with you, he never knows what to expect from you.

“Okay, I've got your next step to being popular.” You say with a mocking smile, you still find his plea to be popular ridiculous. He nods and waits for you to speak again “Ask Dann for forgiveness.” When you say that, Hongjoong looks at you confused, what did you just say? “And you have to force her to go to Wooyoung's party.”

“I think it will be strange for me to apologize after what I told her, and I don't think she would go to that party, even if I asked her to.” You roll your eyes annoyed, you hate it when people put ‘buts’ on your orders.

“It's not a suggestion, it's an order, Hongjoong.” He stiffened at your harsh tone “That little bitch will be more than happy if you talk to her again. You got her in the palm of your hands, and you have to take advantage of that, baby.”

Hongjoong blushes at the pet name “If you ask her for something, she will do it without asking. And do you know why?” You bring your face close to his, noticing his cute features. He swallows nervously. Having you so close was always his dream, but now that he has you in front of him, he feels his cheeks burning. Faced with no response, you decide to continue.

“Because she knows you're cute and smart, and she likes you so much that she'll do anything to get your attention. Sounds familiar?” You smile when you feel his gaze go from your eyes to your lips. “If I was her, I would do the same too.” You whisper, raising your hand to cover his cheek, giving light caresses with your thumb that make him close his eyes in satisfaction.

“After all, underneath all those horrible clothes is an interesting boy and I hope to take advantage of him.” He opens his eyes suddenly, your words meaning more than they should “So? Will you follow my orders or not?”

“Of course I will,” He responds immediately “I promised you that I would do anything for you.”

For you or for being popular?

“Good, see you tomorrow night.”

You pat his cheek and stand up heading for the exit of the cafeteria leaving Hongjoong completely alone, processing everything you've said.

What stands out the most: You said that he is cute and intelligent and that he has potential. That's a lot more than he ever hoped for.

✮ ⋆

When the last class was over, Hongjoong quickly grabbed all his stuff and headed to the only place Dann could be at the time: the library on the third floor.

Without looking or saying goodbye to his friends, he hurried to that place and when he entered through the large doors, he could see Dann sitting on a table near the window surrounded by books and scribbling notes in her notebook.

Hongjoong walks toward her clearing his throat nervously “Hey, Dann.”

Dann looks up, surprised “Hoongjoong?” She thought that after what happened at lunch he wouldn't talk to her anymore.

“Mind if I sit?” Dann nods “Look, I wanted to talk about… you know, what happened today.”

She glances back at her notes “What about it?” She mutters while doing doodles on her notebook.

“I didn’t mean to do that, I know I’ve been acting weird since yesterday, but… I really enjoy being with you.”

“You do?” She raises an eyebrow and Hongjoong nods earnestly.

“Yeah. I mean, you’ve been there for me, and I feel bad for… not being there for you, too.”

“It did kind of suck, you know? We said we'd read the book when it was on sale.”

And he really wanted to read that book with her “I know. I messed up, and I’m sorry. I really want to make it up to you.”

Dann tilts her head, curious “How?”

Swallowing hard, Hongjoong says what you told him earlier “Come to Wooyoung’s party tomorrow night.” Hongjoong can see the confusion on her face

“A party? Joong, that’s not really our thing.”

“I know, but… it’s important to me. I think it could be fun.” He smiles nervously, scratching the back of his head.

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t fit in with those rich people.”

“You wouldn’t have to, you’d just… be there with me.” This feels so wrong and something inside of him says that you have something bad planned for tomorrow.

“With you?” Dann's cheeks flush slightly when Hongjoong nods with a smile “Okay.” She whispers, looking down at her books embarrassed.

He looked at her with shock, he didn't think it would be so easy to convince her. You were right, if he asks she will do anything for him.

“Really? Thank you, Dann!”

She smiles shyly “Thanks for saying sorry, Joong. It means a lot, I’ll see you at the party.”

“See you tomorrow.” Hongjoong nods while standing up.

Dann watches him leave, her heart fluttering even though she knows she shouldn’t get her hopes up. This doesn't mean anything, she keeps repeating to herself.

As Hongjoong walks quickly towards the exit, he feels the vibration of his phone in his pants pocket. He pulls it out quickly, and a little smile forms on his lips when he sees your name in his notifications, but that smile disappears when he reads the content.

○ YN♡: Have you done what I told you to do? I hope so. I can't wait to see that bitch's face when she finds out that your cute action is just a farce.

However, his cheeks turn red, and his heart pounds as he reads the following message.

○ YN♡: Anyway, see you tomorrow, babe ♡♡

You certainly have him in the palm of your hand, and you will take advantage of it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Notes: Remember that this is a slow burn romance, so this is just the beginning. The best part is coming in the next chapter!!

Taglist: @m0onchild-98 @luvvvash @a-tiny-thing @cheolright @innocygnet @silenttrxxs @alliecoady98 @posseup

You can be part of the Taglist: Here

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

☆○☆○☆

[a-tiny-thing]

To Light a Candle - J. YH

Masterlist

Featuring Jeong Yunho as father!stefano

Title : To Light a Candle

Year : 1937

Location : Bologna, Italy

Word Count ~ 9.8k

Genre : drama, romance

Pairing : father!stefano x atheist!reader

Summary : Y/N, an atheist woman hardened by life’s hardships and disillusioned by love, doesn’t believe in fairytales or happy endings. The universe seems to mock her when she stumbles upon Father Stefano, a young Catholic priest whose unwavering faith and compassion are everything she’s spent years rejecting. As their paths cross, the tension between her cynicism and his gentle belief grows, Y/N's life taking an unexpected turn.

Warnings : anxiety and mental health struggles, religion and faith conflicts, past trauma, themes of self-worth and identity, slow-burn romance with emotional tension.

Notes : This work is not read proof. Requests are open. Hope you enjoy!

The rain hit the cobblestones like applause, steady, relentless, drowning out the noise of the world. Y/N’s shoes squelched with every step, her coat soaked through to the bone as she staggered down the narrow alleyways of Bologna. She didn’t care where she was going. The streets all looked the same in this city–gray, ancient, indifferent.

She stopped in front of a pair of massive wooden doors, the intricate carvings half-hidden by the shadows of the night. A church. Of course. The universe had a sick sense of humor.

Y/N hated churches. She hated the smell of incense, the cold judgment of the marble saints, the way the silence pressed on her ears like a vice. And yet, as the rain showed no signs of letting up, she muttered a curse under her breath and shoved the door open.

It creaked like a beast stirring from sleep, echoing through the cavernous interior. The scent of wax and damp stone hit her first, followed by the flicker of candlelight that painted the walls with a golden hue. Y/N paused, dripping on the polished floor, glaring at the crucifix as if daring it to strike her down.

“You’re late for Mass.”

The voice came from somewhere to her left, low, warm, with the faintest hint of amusement. She turned sharply, her wet hair plastering itself across her cheek, to find a man in a black cassock standing by the pews. He wasn’t what she expected. Too young to be a priest, she thought. Or maybe just not tired enough.

“I’m not here for Mass.” She snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through the quiet. “And you don’t need to tell me I don’t belong here. I already know.”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, his shoes making soft thuds against the stone. “This isn’t a nightclub, signorina. You don’t need a membership card to enter.”

She let out a hollow laugh, the sound ricocheting off the high ceilings. “Well, aren’t you a modern priest? What’s next, a cocktail hour after confession?”

“Not a bad idea.” He said lightly, though his eyes studied her carefully. She was trembling, whether from the cold or something deeper, he couldn’t tell. “But I’d still prefer to know why you’re here.”

“Because it’s raining!” Y/N shot back, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “And I needed a roof. Happy?”

His lips curved into something resembling a smile, but it wasn’t patronizing. It was soft, patient, like he was letting her win a game he wasn’t interested in playing. “The rain has a way of leading people to unexpected places.” He said. “I’m Father Stefano, by the way. And you are?”

“Leaving.” The girl replied, though her feet remained planted. Her defiance faltered as her eyes darted to the flickering candles. For a moment, her expression cracked, just a flicker of vulnerability before she pulled her walls back up.

“Alright, Leaving...” Stefano said, the humor in his tone just enough to disarm her. “You’re welcome to stay until the rain stops. No sermons, no strings attached. Just a dry pew and a bit of quiet.”

Y/N hesitated. Quiet wasn’t something she was used to. Her mind was usually too loud, a relentless cacophony of doubt, anger and the kind of loneliness that gnawed at her ribs. But the warmth of the church, the steady glow of the candles and the calm presence of this infuriatingly unbothered priest... it wasn’t the worst place she could be.

“Fine.” She muttered, brushing past him and collapsing into a pew at the back. “But don’t get any ideas. I’m not confessing. And I’m definitely not praying.”

Stefano didn’t respond right away. He simply nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a beat longer than necessary before turning back toward the altar.

“Stay as long as you need.” He said over his shoulder.

Y/N leaned back against the pew, arms crossed, trying her best to ignore the warmth seeping through her damp clothes. She wasn’t staying because of him, she told herself. She was staying because the thought of stepping back into the rain felt like a punishment she didn’t deserve.

Her eyes wandered across the high ceilings, where painted angels gazed down at her with pity she didn’t ask for. The candles flickered at the altar, their soft light dancing in the shadows, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from the weight pressing on her chest.

“You’re staring at the ceiling like it owes you something.”

His voice broke through her thoughts, startling her. She glanced over to see Stefano standing near the altar, his cassock flowing as he moved. He wasn’t looking at her, not directly, but there was something about his presence that felt... intentional.

“Maybe it does.” She replied, her tone sharp enough to keep him at arm’s length.

He paused, tilting his head as if considering her answer. “And what might that be?”

She didn’t respond immediately, her gaze dropping to the marble floor. “I don’t know. An explanation, maybe. For why things are the way they are. For why it feels like... like I’m being punished for something I didn’t do.”

Her voice cracked at the end and she hated herself for it. She wasn’t here to bare her soul to some priest with kind eyes and too much patience.

“You think you’re being punished?” Stefano asked, his tone gentle, but not pitying. He stepped closer, keeping a respectful distance. “By God?”

She laughed bitterly. “I don’t believe in God, Father. But if He’s up there, He’s got a cruel sense of humor.”

Stefano didn’t flinch at her words. Instead, he took a seat on the edge of a nearby pew, his hands resting loosely in his lap. “It’s okay to be angry.” He said quietly. “Even at God. Especially at God. I think He understands better than we give Him credit for.”

“Wow...” Y/N said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re really selling this whole ‘faith’ thing.”

“It’s not about selling anything.” he replied simply. “I’m just listening.”

That caught her off guard. She had spent her entire life around people who either wanted to fix her or fixate on her problems. Stefano, it seemed, wanted neither. He just sat there, waiting, as if the silence didn’t bother him at all.

For a moment, Y/N considered leaving. Walking out into the rain and disappearing back into the chaos of her life. But something about the way Stefano sat there, calm and steady, made her stay.

“What’s your deal?” She asked finally, breaking the silence.

He raised an eyebrow. “My deal?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, gesturing vaguely at him. “You’re not like... the others. Most priests would’ve either shoved a Bible in my hands or kicked me out by now.”

Stefano smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “I guess I’ve learned that people aren’t usually looking for answers. Sometimes, they just want to be heard.”

“Sounds like something they’d teach you in priest school.” She muttered.

“Not exactly." He said, his tone softening. “I had to learn it the hard way.”

Y/N looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time. There was a sadness in his eyes, something deeper than she had expected. It wasn’t pity—she could handle pity. No, this was something else.

“What happened?” She asked before she could stop herself.

Stefano hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “That’s a story for another time." He said, standing and brushing off his cassock. “But for now, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. The rain doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.”

And with that, he walked back toward the altar, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts.

She hated how curious she felt. Hated how his quiet presence made her feel something she couldn’t quite name. But for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like running away.

The rain pounded against the stained-glass windows, each drop a reminder that the storm outside was far less intimidating than the one raging within her. Stefano didn’t push her to talk, didn’t offer any sermons or platitudes. He moved around the church quietly, lighting candles, adjusting books on the pews and straightening the altar cloth. It was almost annoying how at ease he seemed, as though the world wasn’t falling apart around them.

When the rain finally slowed to a drizzle, Y/N forced herself to stand. Her legs felt stiff and she could feel the eyes of the carved saints watching her every movement.

“I’ll go now.” She said, her voice sharper than she intended.

Stefano looked up from where he was kneeling near the altar. “The doors are always open, signorina.”

“Yeah, well, don’t expect me back.” She shot back, turning toward the door.

“I won’t." He said simply.

That stopped her in her tracks. No argument, no insistence that she should come back, no promises of salvation. She turned her head slightly, just enough to catch him watching her, his expression unreadable.

“Good.” She muttered, pushing the door open and stepping into the damp night. "Oh, and Father?" She turned to look back at him. "I'm Y/N."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It had been weeks since Y/N stumbled into the church. Weeks of telling herself she wouldn’t go back, that the moment was a fluke, an accident born of rain and bad luck. But no matter how far she wandered through the city, she couldn’t quite shake the memory of Stefano, the way he had listened without judgment, the calm steadiness of his presence.

She told herself it didn’t matter. She had more important things to worry about, like finding her next meal or a place to sleep that wasn’t a park bench. Yet, when she found herself walking past the church again one crisp autumn afternoon, her steps faltered.

The doors were wide open, sunlight spilling into the dim interior like a hesitant guest. She hovered at the threshold, torn between curiosity and pride, when a voice interrupted her internal battle.

“You don’t need an invitation to come inside.”

Stefano’s voice was warm, familiar and it startled her. She looked up to see him standing in the doorway, his cassock swapped for a simple shirt and slacks. He carried a basket of fresh produce, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms dusted with flour.

“I wasn’t going to.” Y/N lied, crossing her arms defensively.

“Of course not.” Stefano said, a hint of amusement in his tone. “You were just... admiring the architecture?”

“Something like that.” She muttered, her gaze flickering toward the basket. “What’s with the groceries? Thought priests lived off bread and wine.”

He laughed softly, a sound that caught her off guard with its ease. “I help cook meals for the orphanage down the street. Today, I’m making minestrone. Would you like to join me?”

Her stomach growled at the mention of food, betraying her. She clenched her jaw, hating how transparent she felt under his calm gaze.

“I don’t need charity.” She snapped.

“It’s not charity.” He replied evenly. “It’s dinner. And I could use an extra set of hands in the kitchen.”

For a moment, she considered refusing. She didn’t want to owe him anything, didn’t want to feel like a stray dog he was taking pity on. But the memory of her last proper meal)–stale bread and half a bruised apple–made her hesitate.

“Fine." She said finally. “But I’m not peeling anything.”

Stefano smiled, stepping aside to let her in. “Deal.”

The church kitchen was small but warm, the scent of fresh basil and simmering vegetables filling the air. Stefano handed her a knife and a cutting board, instructing her to chop carrots while he stirred the pot.

“You’re awfully trusting for someone who just handed me a weapon.” Y/N remarked, eyeing the blade.

Stefano chuckled. “I have faith you’ll use it wisely.”

“Big mistake.” She muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward despite herself.

As they worked, Stefano didn’t pry or ask questions. Instead, he told her stories–about the children at the orphanage, the elderly nun who ran it and the stray cat that had made itself a permanent resident.

“You talk too much.” Y/N said at one point, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

“Do I?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. It’s exhausting.”

“Noted.” Stefano said, his lips twitching into a smile. “Would you prefer silence?”

She paused, the knife hovering over the cutting board. “No.” She admitted quietly.

They finished the soup in companionable quiet, the kind that didn’t feel oppressive or awkward. When it was done, Stefano ladled a generous portion into two bowls and set one in front of her.

Y/N hesitated, the steam rising to meet her nose. “This doesn’t mean I’m coming back." She said.

“I know.” He replied, taking a seat across from her.

“And I’m not peeling anything next time either.”

“Understood.”

Despite herself, she smirked, picking up her spoon. The soup was warm and comforting, the kind of meal that felt like a hug you didn’t know you needed.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N didn’t feel like running.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Y/N didn’t intend to get involved with the orphanage.

In fact, she tried her best to avoid it. After that evening in the church kitchen, she made a mental note to steer clear of Stefano, his kind eyes and his frustrating way of making her feel seen. But it was hard to avoid someone who seemed to know the streets better than she did.

The next time she ran into him, it was on a narrow cobblestone alley near the bakery where she scavenged day-old bread. Stefano was crouched beside a small boy with dirt-smudged cheeks and mismatched shoes, tying a loose shoelace while the child babbled about something Y/N couldn’t quite hear.

She paused mid-step, her instincts screaming at her to turn around and disappear, but Stefano looked up and spotted her. His smile was as warm as the sun peeking through the clouds.

“Y/N.” He called, straightening up. “Perfect timing.”

“For what?” She asked warily, keeping her distance.

“This is Luca.” Stefano said, gesturing to the boy. “He’s one of the children at the orphanage.”

Luca grinned at her, his two front teeth missing. “Are you the lady who helped Father Stefano cook soup?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “How do you—”

“He told us.” Luca interrupted proudly. “He said you’re very good at chopping carrots.”

Her lips twitched, though she fought the urge to smile. “Is that so?”

Stefano shrugged, the picture of innocence. “I might’ve mentioned it.”

Before she could reply, Luca grabbed her hand with surprising confidence for a boy his size. “Come with us! Father Stefano is taking me to get a new book. I want to show you my favorite one!”

Y/N glanced at Stefano, who looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. “He’s persistent.” He said, as if that explained everything.

“I noticed.” She muttered, but Luca’s grip was firm, and before she knew it, she was following them down the alley.

The bookshop smelled of old paper and ink, a comforting blend that Y/N hadn’t realized she missed. Luca darted between the shelves like a whirlwind, pulling out books and chattering to Stefano about each one.

Y/N hovered near the door, feeling out of place among the neat rows of novels and the quiet hum of conversation. Stefano didn’t push her to join them, but every so often, he would glance her way, a silent invitation in his gaze.

Eventually, Luca ran up to her with a battered copy of 'The Adventures of Pinocchio'. “This one’s my favorite.” He announced, holding it out to her.

Y/N took the book hesitantly, running her fingers over the worn cover. “Why?”

“Because it’s about a boy who makes a lot of mistakes, but still gets a happy ending.” Luca said matter-of-factly. “Do you like it?”

She stared at the book, her throat tightening. “I... I haven’t read it.”

Luca’s eyes widened. “You should! Father Stefano can read it to you if you want. He’s really good at the voices.”

“I’ll keep that in mind." She said, her voice softer than she intended as she glanced at the priest.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

By the time they left the bookshop, Y/N had somehow been roped into visiting the orphanage.

“It’s just for a quick tour.” Stefano said as they walked. “No pressure.”

“Sure...” She said dryly. “Because you’re not the least bit manipulative.”

He smiled, unbothered by her sarcasm. “Not manipulative. Just persuasive.”

The orphanage was a modest building tucked away on a quiet street, its walls painted a cheerful yellow that stood out against the gray stone surrounding it. Inside, the air buzzed with the sounds of children laughing, arguing, and running down the halls.

Y/N stood awkwardly near the entrance, unsure of what to do with herself as Stefano greeted the nuns who ran the place. Luca immediately disappeared into a crowd of kids, holding up his new book like a trophy.

“Would you like to help serve dinner?” Stefano asked, turning to her.

Her first instinct was to say no, to bolt for the door and never look back. But something about the way he asked–like it wasn’t a big deal, like she wasn’t some project to fix–made her hesitate.

“Fine.” She muttered. “But don’t expect me to be good at it.”

The evening passed in a blur of noise and activity, leaving Y/N more drained than she expected. When the children had finally scattered to their rooms and the last of the dishes were washed, she found herself lingering in the quiet kitchen, unsure why she hadn’t left yet.

Stefano was at the table, carefully folding a pile of napkins. The room was lit by a single oil lamp, casting soft shadows across the worn wooden surfaces.

“You’re still here.” He said without looking up, his voice steady but not surprised.

“Yeah, well... I didn’t want to walk home in the dark." She muttered, though she wasn’t entirely sure it was true.

Stefano nodded, finishing his task before meeting her gaze. “Fair enough. Sit down for a bit, then.”

She hesitated but eventually sank into the chair across from him. The silence stretched between them, not quite comfortable but not unbearable either.

“Why do you do it?” She asked suddenly, her fingers tracing patterns on the tabletop.

“Do what?”

“All of this.” She said, gesturing vaguely. “The orphanage, the soup, the... whatever it is you do every day. Don’t you ever get tired of trying to save people?”

Stefano leaned back in his chair, studying her with that infuriatingly calm expression. “Sometimes...” He admitted. “But it’s not about me. It’s about them.”

“That’s such a cop-out answer.” She said, rolling her eyes.

He laughed softly. “Maybe. But it’s the truth.”

Y/N frowned, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me and yet you’re–” She stopped, searching for the right word.

“Persistent?” He offered.

“Annoying.” She corrected, though her tone was less sharp than usual.

Stefano chuckled, folding his hands on the table. “You remind me of someone I knew once. Someone who thought they didn’t need anyone, that they could carry the weight of the world on their own.”

“Let me guess.” Y/N said dryly. “You swooped in and saved them too?”

“Not exactly.” He said, his gaze softening. “But I helped them see that they weren’t as alone as they thought.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, the words hitting closer to home than she wanted to admit. She looked away, her eyes landing on the flickering flame of the lamp. “I’m not looking to be saved, you know.”

“I know." Stefano said quietly. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t care.”

She swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing against her chest. “You’re really bad at minding your own business.”

“It’s a terrible habit.” He agreed, his lips curving into a faint smile.

Despite herself, Y/N felt the corners of her mouth twitch. She quickly masked it by standing up and reaching for her coat. “I should go.”

Stefano stood as well, but he didn’t try to stop her. “The doors are always open, Y/N.”

She paused in the doorway, her hand resting on the worn wood. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

But as she stepped into the cool night air, a part of her wondered if maybe, just maybe, she didn’t mind the idea of coming back.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The rain came back with a vengeance two nights later.

Y/N hadn’t meant to end up on the church steps again. She’d sworn to herself after that evening at the orphanage that she was done with Stefano and his relentless kindness. But as the storm rolled in, soaking her to the bone and turning the streets into rivers of filth, she found her feet taking her there anyway.

By the time she pushed open the heavy wooden doors, she was shaking from both cold and exhaustion. The church was dimly lit, the flicker of candlelight casting long shadows on the walls. She hesitated just inside, unsure if she was intruding, when a familiar voice cut through the stillness.

“You’re drenched.”

Stefano stood at the altar, his cassock loose and his hair slightly mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through it. His expression was unreadable, but there was no mistaking the concern in his eyes.

“I didn’t come here for you.” She said defensively, though it sounded weak even to her own ears.

“I didn’t say you did." He replied, stepping down from the altar. “Come on. There’s a fire in the rectory.”

“I’m fine!" She snapped, but her trembling hands betrayed her.

Stefano didn’t argue. He simply waited, his calm presence somehow more infuriating than if he’d tried to insist. Finally, with a defeated sigh, she followed him through a side door and into the rectory.

The small room was cozy, with a crackling fire and a simple wooden table cluttered with books and papers. Stefano handed her a dry towel and gestured for her to sit by the hearth.

She hesitated, hating how vulnerable she felt, but the warmth was too tempting to resist. She sank into the chair, wrapping the towel around herself as she stared into the flames.

“Do you want tea?” He asked, already moving toward a small kettle.

“Why do you care?” She muttered.

Stefano paused, his back to her. “Because someone has to.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She bit her lip, refusing to let him see how much they affected her. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity." He said, turning to face her. “It’s just... care.”

She laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and brittle. “Care? You don’t even know me.”

“Then help me understand.” Stefano said softly, his eyes locking onto hers.

For a moment, she wanted to run, to throw up every wall she’d spent years building. But something about his voice, his presence, made her stay.

“I don’t need anyone to save me." She said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know.” Stefano replied. “But that doesn’t mean you have to carry everything alone.”

The dam cracked, just a little. “You don’t get it.” Her voice cracked, her hands tightening around the towel. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried to fix things, to be better, but it’s like every time I get close, something pulls me back under.”

Her voice broke again and she hated herself for it. She hated that she was falling apart in front of him, of all people.

Stefano didn’t speak right away. Instead, he pulled a chair closer and sat across from her, his presence steady and unshakable.

“It’s not about being perfect.” He said quietly. “It’s about trying. And letting people help when you can’t do it alone.”

She shook her head, tears burning in her eyes. “I don’t even believe in God. What am I doing here?”

“You’re here because you’re tired.” Stefano said simply. “And that’s okay.”

The honesty in his voice, the lack of judgment, made her chest ache. She looked away, the firelight blurring in her vision.

“I don’t know how to stop running.” She admitted, her voice so soft she wasn’t sure he’d heard her.

“You don’t have to figure it all out tonight.” the priest said gently. “But maybe... maybe you don’t have to run alone.”

Y/N closed her eyes, letting his words sink in. For the first time in years, the thought of staying still didn’t feel like a trap.

And as the rain pounded against the windows, she let herself believe, just for a moment, that maybe Stefano was right.

As the minutes ticked by, the warmth of the fire and the rhythmic patter of the storm lulled her into a strange stillness. It was as if the world had quieted around her, leaving only the soft crackle of the flames and Stefano’s steady presence.

Her body betrayed her exhaustion, sinking deeper into the chair as her eyes grew heavy. She fought it at first. After all, sleep was a dangerous thing, a state where her defenses crumbled and memories had a habit of sneaking in uninvited. But here, cocooned in the unexpected safety of the rectory, her resistance faltered.

Stefano hadn’t spoken in a while, but she could sense he was still nearby, perhaps reading or praying silently. That thought, oddly enough, didn’t irritate her. If anything, it anchored her, the knowledge that someone else was awake, someone who wasn’t asking anything of her.

Her lashes fluttered shut despite her protests and her breathing slowed.

Stefano looked up from his place by the table, his gaze softening when he saw her. She was curled in on herself, her knees drawn up slightly as if to shield herself from a world that had been too harsh. He noticed how her face, always so guarded, had softened in sleep, the tension melted away by the fire’s warmth.

For a long moment, he simply watched, his own thoughts a quiet murmur of prayer and questions.

Rising silently, he fetched a blanket from a nearby shelf. With the same care one might show a fragile relic, he draped it over her, tucking the edges gently around her shoulders. The gesture wasn’t calculated or deliberate; it was instinctive, driven by a need to offer comfort where it was so clearly needed.

When he returned to his seat, he found his gaze drifting back to her. She had mentioned she didn’t believe in God, but there was something deeply sacred about the vulnerability she showed now, even if unintentionally. Stefano wasn’t sure what to make of it.

The storm outside began to ebb, the rain now a faint drizzle. The room was quiet save for the occasional crack of the fire, and Stefano leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment.

He told himself he was only staying awake in case she stirred or needed something, but a part of him knew it was more than that. He wanted to be there, wanted her to wake to the same calmness she’d fallen asleep in.

And for the first time in a long while, Stefano found himself silently asking a question he couldn’t easily answer: Was this where he was meant to be?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The storm had passed by the time morning arrived, leaving the world outside washed clean and glistening under the early light. The rectory was quiet, the air carrying the faint scent of burnt wood and something earthy, like rain-soaked stone.

Y/N stirred first, the blanket slipping slightly from her shoulders as she blinked herself awake. For a moment, she was disoriented, her surroundings unfamiliar. But then the memories of the previous night came rushing back—the fire, the storm, Stefano.

She sat up quickly, her eyes darting around until they landed on him. He was sitting by the table, head bowed, his fingers lightly gripping a rosary. The beads glinted faintly in the sunlight streaming through the small window.

She froze, unsure what to say. She wasn’t used to waking up in places like this, under blankets that didn’t feel like shields or traps.

“Good morning." Stefano said softly, not looking up.

Her breath caught. It wasn’t his voice—it was how calm it sounded, like he’d been waiting for her to wake but didn’t want to rush her.

“Morning." She muttered, her voice thick from sleep.

He glanced at her then, a small smile tugging at his lips. “There’s tea on the stove. It’s still warm if you’d like some.”

She shifted awkwardly, clutching the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “I, uh... I should probably go.”

Stefano nodded, but he didn’t look disappointed. “If that’s what you want.”

His response threw her off once again. She'd expected an argument, some polite insistence that she stay longer. Instead, he rose from his chair and moved to pour a cup of tea, setting it on the edge of the table nearest to her.

“No one’s keeping you here." He added, his tone light. “But you don’t have to leave right away."

Her heart betrayed her, skipping a beat at his words, causing her cheeks to flush. Stefano chuckled softly, his laugh warm but not mocking.

“Fine.” She grumbled, standing and letting the blanket fall back onto the chair. She crossed the room and picked up the teacup, avoiding his gaze as she took a tentative sip.

The tea was earthy and slightly sweet and it warmed her from the inside out. She hated how much she liked it.

They sat in silence for a while, Stefano returning to his seat by the table and Y/N perching on the edge of the chair nearest the fire. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t quite easy, either.

“I’m sorry." She said abruptly, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

Stefano looked up, surprised. “For what?”

“For... falling asleep here. For... last night.” She said, stumbling over the words. “I didn’t mean to–”

“There’s nothing to apologize for." He interrupted gently.

She frowned, her fingers tightening around the teacup. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like... you don’t expect anything in return.” She said, frustrated. “Like you’re just... good.”

Stefano smiled faintly, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not as good as you think, Y/N. I’m just trying to be present. For you, for anyone who needs it.”

She shook her head, setting the cup down with a little more force than necessary. “It’s not normal. People aren’t like that.”

“Maybe they should be." He said simply.

His words hung in the air, and for once, Y/N didn’t know how to respond.

Stefano watched her for a moment longer, then stood and began tidying the table, giving her space to think. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, his movements calm and deliberate.

Y/N sat with the empty teacup in her hands, staring into its depths as if it held answers to questions she hadn’t dared to ask. Stefano, now occupied with clearing the table, moved around the room with an ease she found infuriating. He wasn’t awkward or stiff, even in her presence and that calmness unsettled her.

Her stomach suddenly betrayed her, growling loudly in the otherwise quiet room. She winced, clutching at her midsection as if that could silence it.

Stefano glanced up from where he was folding a dishcloth. His expression was neutral, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “Hungry much?”

Y/N’s cheeks burned and she looked anywhere but at him. “I... maybe. Just a little.”

“Good.” He said without hesitation, moving toward a small cabinet. “You should be.”

She blinked, caught off guard by his easy response. “Why is that good?”

“It means you’re comfortable enough to admit it.” Stefano said matter-of-factly, pulling out a loaf of bread and a small tin of jam.

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. She watched as he set the bread on the table, slicing it with practiced precision. The smell of fresh bread filled the room, making her mouth water despite herself.

“I don’t need much.” She said quickly, as if to justify her earlier confession.

“You’ll get what you need.” Stefano replied with a small smile, handing her a plate with a thick slice of bread, a smear of jam glistening on top.

She hesitated, eyeing the plate warily.

“It’s just bread." He said lightly, taking a piece for himself.

“Yeah, but you’re weird about bread." She muttered under her breath.

Stefano chuckled, a genuine, warm sound that made her feel both exposed and oddly at ease. “Not all bread is sacred. Sometimes it’s just breakfast.”

Her lips twitched despite herself and she finally took the plate. The first bite was tentative, but as soon as the flavors hit her tongue, she realized how hungry she really was. She devoured the slice in quick bites, her appetite overriding her self-consciousness.

Stefano didn’t comment, eating his own piece at a leisurely pace. When she finished, he handed her another without a word.

“Thanks." She said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re welcome.”

The simplicity of the exchange felt... odd. Not uncomfortable, exactly, but foreign. She was used to everything being a transaction, even kindness. But here he was, giving her bread and tea as if it were the most natural thing in the world, expecting nothing in return.

“More tea?” He asked after a moment, his voice light.

She nodded, a tiny smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The days after the storm had passed were quieter, filled with the usual calm that Stefano had long been accustomed to. Y/N, though still uncertain about what she had felt the night before, had started to come around more often. She wasn’t staying in the rectory, but she would stop by to help him with small tasks, trying—unsuccessfully at times—to hide the anxiety that always simmered beneath her calm exterior.

That afternoon, Stefano had asked her to accompany him to the market to pick up supplies for the upcoming week. It had seemed harmless enough, a simple errand—but as soon as they left the quiet of the rectory and entered the bustling streets, something in Y/N snapped.

The noise was too much–the crowded squares, the chatter of vendors, the clatter of carts, the children laughing too loudly–it all felt like a wall pressing in on her, suffocating her. She kept her head down, her breath growing shallower with each step.

Stefano, walking just a few paces ahead, didn’t seem to notice, his attention absorbed in the details of the market: the bread, the vegetables, the vendors waving at him in greeting. His calmness, the easy flow of his movements, made her feel even more out of place.

"Y/N?" Stefano's voice pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts. He turned back to her with a soft smile, a basket in his hands, his eyes warm with quiet understanding. "Are you alright?"

But the warmth in his gaze only made the pressure in her chest worse.

"I'm fine." She snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. The words tasted bitter in her mouth, but they were already out. "Can we just finish this? I don’t need your... your pity."

Stefano’s expression faltered, his brows furrowing ever so slightly. He stepped back toward her, but this time, his hand didn’t reach for her. Instead, he gave her space, his eyes studying her carefully.

“We've had this conversation before. I’m not pitying you, Y/N." He said, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m trying to help.”

"Well, I don’t need help." She said, her voice rising now, the words spilling out faster than she could stop them. “I don’t need anyone’s help! I don’t need your help! You think you can just... be kind and it fixes everything? It doesn’t! It doesn’t make me feel better! It doesn’t make the noise go away or the emptiness inside me go away! It doesn’t change anything!”

Her chest tightened as her words tumbled out, her face flushed with frustration and something darker, something deeper that she had been burying for far too long.

Stefano looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment, and for a terrifying second, Y/N thought he might just walk away. But he didn’t. He just stood there, his gaze softening.

“I... I’m sorry.” She said, the harshness in her voice fading as quickly as it had appeared. She wanted to take back the words, wanted to swallow them down before they could do any more damage. She didn’t want to be angry with him. She never did.

But she had no control over it–no control over the feelings, over the panic, over the way everything felt like it was closing in around her. She took a shaky breath, her hand reaching for her hair, tugging it behind her ear as if the motion could ground her.

"I didn’t mean that." She whispered, her voice trembling.

Stefano said nothing, but he reached out to her. This time, it wasn’t with the gentle touch she had come to expect–it was an offering of space, a quiet permission to fall apart. He gave her a moment.

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, but the panic was rising again, making her heart beat faster. She could feel the edges of her thoughts blurring, the familiar sense of losing control creeping in. She couldn’t breathe.

“I’m sorry.” She repeated, her hands trembling now as she clutched at her sides. “I don’t... I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know how to stop feeling like this, like I’m just... always about to fall apart. It's so exhausting."

Stefano stepped forward, his presence solid and steady. He didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he just stood there, waiting. His silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was the kind that allowed her to breathe without pressure, as if he were giving her space to be broken without judgment.

“I don’t... I don’t know how to fix it.” She said, her voice breaking now, the tears that had been threatening to spill finally falling. “I just want to be normal, Stefano. I just want to... feel like I’m not falling apart every day.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to hold it together, but the sobs came anyway, wracking her body with the force of emotions she didn’t understand.

Stefano’s hand was on her arm before she even realized it, guiding her gently into the alcove of a nearby building where they could be out of sight of the bustling street. The smell of fresh bread and fruit was muffled in the space and the noise of the market softened, like a distant hum.

Y/N let him guide her, her head spinning as her emotions overwhelmed her. She hated how much it hurt, how raw it all felt, how much she wished she could just close herself off and pretend she was fine.

“I didn’t mean to...” She gasped, her chest tight with emotion.

Stefano didn’t interrupt her this time. He simply reached out, pulling her gently into a hug, his arms wrapping around her with a tenderness that made her want to collapse. His chest was warm against her cheek, his heartbeat steady and calm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N let herself lean into him, let herself just... break.

“I’m here." He whispered against her hair, his voice calm but full of unspoken strength. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N.”

Her sobs quieted in the circle of his arms, the storm of emotions inside her beginning to settle. She didn’t know how long they stood there, the world outside continuing on without them, but eventually, she pulled away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered again, feeling the weight of her words. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Stefano looked down at her, his eyes soft. “You don’t have to apologize. You’re not broken, Y/N. You’re just... struggling. And that’s okay.”

Y/N shook her head, the tears still fresh on her cheeks. “I don’t deserve your kindness. I don’t deserve anything.”

“You deserve more than you know.” He said, his voice unwavering. “And it’s okay not to be okay. You’re not alone in this.”

Y/N stared at him, her breath still uneven. “But... I’m just a burden, Father. A waste of space and air. I—”

Her voice cracked as the words tumbled from her lips, the self-loathing that had been building for so long spilling over. She could feel the weight of her shame and pain crushing her chest, suffocating her with each breath. She looked away, not wanting him to see the cracks in her carefully built façade.

Stefano’s eyes softened with a mix of concern and understanding, his hand gently reaching up to touch her face. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as if he was afraid that even the slightest movement might break her further. His fingers brushed the dampness of her cheeks, wiping away the last of her tears with a tenderness she couldn’t comprehend.

“Y/N.” he murmured, his voice so soft, so sincere. “You’re not a burden. You’re not a waste of anything.”

His words weren’t just comforting. They were a lifeline, pulling her from the depths of her own mind. His hand stayed on her face, his thumb brushing across her skin in slow, soothing circles.

“I know it’s hard to believe...” He continued, his voice steady. “But you’re worthy of love. You’re worthy of kindness. You’re worthy of more than you know.”

Her breath hitched, and she could feel the tightness in her chest loosen just a fraction. For a moment, she allowed herself to close her eyes, to let his warmth wrap around her, the security of his presence grounding her.

“But I don’t know how to be that person." She whispered, her voice barely a breath, like the admission of a secret she had kept buried for far too long. “I don’t know how to stop feeling broken.”

Stefano took a step closer, his body just inches from hers, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It was like he was offering her the space to feel, to breathe, without rushing her. His eyes, soft and full of patience, never left hers.

“You don’t have to be fixed, Y/N." He said, his voice quiet but intense. “You don’t need to be anything other than what you are. You’re enough, just as you are.”

The sincerity in his gaze made something shift inside her–a crack in the wall she had so carefully constructed around herself. She felt her heart beat faster, not from panic or fear, but from something else–something unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome.

“I don’t deserve your kindness." She murmured, her voice trembling as she struggled to keep the emotions at bay. “I don’t deserve anything from you.”

His thumb continued to stroke her cheek, the motion gentle, almost reverent, as if he were memorizing the curve of her face. “You deserve everything, Y/N. Everything good and beautiful.”

The tenderness in his voice was like a balm to her wounds, and before she could stop herself, she reached up, her hand covering his, pressing it more firmly against her cheek. There was something about the way he was looking at her, something in the way he was holding her gaze, that made her feel... safe.

Safe to feel. Safe to be weak. Safe to be vulnerable.

For a long moment, they stood there, not speaking, just breathing. Her heart fluttered in her chest, the feeling of his touch making her head swim with confusion and something deeper—something she didn’t want to name, but couldn’t ignore.

She wanted to pull away, to step back into the comfort of her guarded self, but she couldn’t. His presence was magnetic, drawing her in, offering her something she hadn’t realized she needed: connection.

His eyes never left hers as he leaned in, the space between them growing smaller with each breath. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, almost a whisper, as if the moment was too delicate to disturb.

“You don’t have to apologize, Y/N. Not to me. Not ever.”

And before she could say anything else, he did something that took her completely by surprise–he gently cupped her chin and tilted her face up toward him, his eyes soft and full of unspoken emotions. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he pressed his forehead to hers, his breath mingling with hers, both of them standing in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. The simple gesture of his closeness, the warmth of his skin against hers, sent a rush of heat through her. Her pulse quickened, and she was suddenly acutely aware of everything—the faint scent of his cologne, the rhythm of their breathing, the slight tremble in her hands.

“I’m here." He whispered, so quietly that she almost didn’t hear it. “You don’t have to carry this alone.”

The words hung in the air, hanging between them like a promise, and for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt something shift inside her. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as broken as she had believed. Maybe she wasn’t beyond saving.

Slowly, she leaned into him, her forehead pressing against his as if she were searching for something–something she hadn’t even known she needed until this moment. His warmth, his kindness, his unwavering presence, it all felt like a lifeline.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” She murmured, the words escaping her before she could stop them. “But when I’m with you... I feel like maybe I could be okay.”

Stefano remained still, his breath steady as his arms slowly circled around her, pulling her closer. His embrace was warm, comforting, and it felt like home.

“You don’t have to know, Y/N.” He said, his voice soft and full of promise. “You just have to be. And I’ll be here, no matter what.”

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to fall into his embrace, the world around her fading away. For the first time in a long time, Y/N didn’t feel so alone.

And for a fleeting moment, as she stood in his arms, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to live without the constant weight of her anxiety, without the chains of self-doubt. What if, just for once, she could allow herself to feel love without fear?

As the rain began to fall again, soft and steady, Y/N let herself believe just for a moment that she could be worthy of it.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The days after Y/N's moment of weakness were a strange blend of quiet moments and growing anticipation. Y/N found herself slipping into a new rhythm, one that was defined not just by her own inner turmoil, but by the space Stefano had carved for her in his life. It wasn’t just his kindness that touched her, but also the way he seemed to understand without asking, the way his mere presence soothed her like a balm on an open wound.

But with that soothing presence came a tension she couldn’t ignore. The simple moments started to hold something deeper–a current of attraction neither of them spoke aloud, but both felt in the space between them.

One evening, after a particularly long day of helping him organize church materials, they found themselves alone in the library. The evening sun cast a warm, golden light through the windows and Y/N stood by the bookshelf, tracing the spines of old books without really seeing them. She was aware of Stefano just behind her, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn and face him. The air between them felt charged, like the calm before a storm and it made her heart race in a way she wasn’t prepared for.

Stefano was silent for a moment, watching her. He hadn’t said much since they’d finished their work, but his presence was undeniable, always just a step away. Finally, his voice broke the silence, low and soft, but with an edge that made her turn toward him.

“You’re distant tonight.” He trailed off, his eyes dark, scanning her face. “What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

She didn’t know how to answer. The truth was, she wasn’t just thinking about her usual turmoil–she was thinking about him. His hands, his voice, the way he stood so close without ever overstepping. She couldn’t deny the pull she felt toward him, an attraction that seemed to grow stronger each day. But it terrified her too. She wasn’t ready to let go of the walls she’d built around herself and yet, being near him made those walls feel like they were crumbling.

“I... I’m fine." She replied, her voice betraying her, soft and uncertain. “Just... tired.”

He didn’t buy it. Of course he didn’t. Stefano stepped closer and his gaze softened, as if he was seeing through her carefully constructed exterior. His hand moved to the side of her face, his thumb brushing against her jaw in that same tender way he always did. But this time, the touch lingered. She could feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of her blouse and it made her breath hitch in her throat.

“You don’t have to hide from me, Y/N." He said, his voice thick with an emotion she couldn’t place. His hand slid gently to the back of her neck, his thumb massaging the skin there, sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”

Her breath caught in her chest, the closeness between them making her heart pound. She had never felt like this with anyone–this mix of comfort and desire, of emotional need and physical yearning. It was overwhelming and it took everything in her not to pull away.

“I...” She started, but the words didn’t come. She couldn’t make herself speak.

Stefano’s hand tightened slightly, his thumb pressing into the sensitive spot just below her ear, a gentle but firm pressure that sent a jolt of electricity through her. His gaze lowered to her lips and the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them.

“Y/N...” His voice was barely a whisper, his breath warm against her face. “Is this okay?”

Her heart thudded in her chest, every inch of her body screaming at her to step back, to run, to preserve the safety of her emotional walls. But his touch was gentle, patient, as if he was waiting for her to choose. Waiting for her to admit that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want to keep running anymore.

With trembling hands, she reached up, cupping his face in her palms, feeling the warmth of his skin against hers. Her fingers brushed the edge of his jaw, his skin awfully smooth against her fingertips and it made her breath catch. She could feel the weight of the moment, the tension between them thick and palpable, like a rope being pulled tighter with every passing second.

“I’m scared.” She admitted, her voice barely audible, the words slipping out before she could stop them. “I don’t know if I can... let myself feel this.”

His hands moved, wrapping loosely around her waist and pulling her gently toward him. His forehead rested against hers and for a moment, they just stood there, the world outside slipping away, leaving only the two of them in the quiet of the room.

“You don’t have to be scared with me." Stefano murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I've said this before, I'm saying this now and I'll say this as many times as needed." He whispered softly. "I’m not going to hurt you. Just... let yourself fall and I'll be there to catch you."

And with that, the last of her defenses cracked.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a kiss so soft, so tentative, that it almost felt like a question. But Stefano responded with the same quiet intensity, his hands pulling her even closer, deepening the kiss, his lips demanding more without words. It was slow, reverent, as if he was savoring the moment, letting her take the lead as much as he was.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their hearts pounding in their chests. Y/N felt light-headed, as if the very air around her had shifted, become heavier with something more. Something dangerous, yet exhilarating.

“Do you trust me?” Stefano asked, voice husky, his eyes dark with a hunger that mirrored her own, a hunger she's never seen in his his eyes before.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, searching his face, looking for any sign that this wasn’t real. But all she saw was the sincerity in his gaze, the warmth in his touch. And for the first time in what felt like forever, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she could trust him.

“I do.” she whispered, the words slipping from her lips like a secret. And with that, the space between them dissolved, and the rest of the world faded away.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Weeks passed and the seasons slowly shifted. The once oppressive weight that Y/N carried seemed to lift, not because it had vanished entirely, but because it no longer felt as unbearable. Stefano had been her steady anchor, his unwavering patience and tenderness guiding her through every storm, whether in her own mind or in the world outside.

They spent countless hours together–quiet mornings at the church, long walks through the fields when the weather allowed and nights where Y/N found herself curled up against him, talking about everything and nothing, her heart finally beginning to find peace. There were still moments of doubt, moments when she wondered if she was deserving of the love she was being given, but Stefano’s presence was a constant reminder that she was worthy, just as she was.

One evening, as the soft glow of twilight bathed the rectory in golden light, they sat side by side on the bench in the garden. The air was cool, the scent of blooming flowers mingling with the earth. Stefano had his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, her head resting against his chest. There was no need for words—only the sound of their breaths, slow and steady, as if they had found a rhythm together.

“I never thought I could feel like this.” Y/N whispered, her voice soft but certain. “Like... like I belong. Like I matter.”

Stefano smiled, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. “You always mattered, Y/N. You just needed to see it for yourself.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with something raw, something tender. She had never imagined that this–a simple, quiet life, filled with love and understanding–was something she could have, but here it was. Here he was.

“I... I love you.” She said suddenly, the words spilling out like a secret she had been holding onto for too long.

Stefano’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes searching hers, as if to make sure she truly meant it. His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin. “I love you too, Y/N.” He replied, his voice thick with emotion.

It wasn’t the grand declarations of love she had once imagined, full of fireworks and dramatic gestures. It was quieter, more profound, something that had grown in the small moments, the shared silences, the understanding that passed between them like a silent promise.

Y/N felt her chest tighten with emotion as she gazed into his eyes, seeing the depth of his affection reflected back at her. The love wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t the stuff of fairy tales, but it was real. It was grounding. And it was exactly what she had needed to heal.

With a small laugh, she shifted in his arms, her hands resting on his chest. “I’m sorry for all the times I pushed you away." She said, her voice tinged with regret. “I was scared... and I didn’t know how to let someone in.”

Stefano’s fingers gently traced her jaw, his touch light. “You never had to apologize, Y/N. I never wanted to force you into anything. You’ve come so far and I’m proud of you. I’ll always be here, no matter what.”

The sincerity in his words hit her deeply. There was a security in his love that she had never known before. For the first time, she allowed herself to fully embrace the love he offered, without doubt, without hesitation.

As they sat together, the last light of the day began to fade, leaving only the soft hum of the evening around them. Y/N nestled closer into Stefano’s embrace, a sense of peace settling over her. She had learned, through him, that love wasn’t just about the grand moments or the promises made under the stars. It was about the quiet presence, the steady hands, the shared silences and the understanding that no matter the storm, they would face it together.

And so, as the night embraced them in its quiet beauty, Y/N and Stefano knew, without needing words, that this was only the beginning of their story. A story that had been born from pain, but had grown into something stronger, something full of hope, healing, and the kind of love that would last, no matter the challenges ahead.

For once, Y/N didn’t feel like she was just drifting. She wasn’t alone, and for the first time, she believed in the love they shared, the love that had healed her, that had shown her what it truly meant to be loved.

And in that moment, as she looked into Stefano’s eyes, she realized she was exactly where she was meant to be.

The end.

[a-tiny-thing]

Just Trust Me | J.WY

「pairing」 : wooyoung x fem!reader 「word count」 : 12.8k

「synopsis」 : you were in the woods one day when you came across an injured wooyoung who was being chased by hunters. he had expected you to turn him in, but to his surprise, you didn't; you led them away before offering to help him. however, this was only going to be the beginning for you and him.

「genre」 : hybrid!au, fox hybrid!wooyoung, human!reader, angst, fluff, smut

「warning」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, blood, mentions of guns, cussing, wooyoung has severe trust issues with humans, reader stitches his wound, mentions of abuse, familial issues, violence, petnames (sweetheart, baby, babydoll, love, my love...), kissing, rough makeout, unprotected sex, breast play, bulge kink, breeding, creampie, knotting, biting/marking, fingering, cum eating, clit play, overstimulation, cockwarming, mentions of war, wooyoung is unsure in the beginning, mentions of a rut, teasing, big dick!wooyoung, reader has trouble sleeping, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : I wrote this in the span of 12 hrs so I apologize if it seems rushed or kind of all over the place 🫠 but this was a sudden brain rot so I just started writing...

The air was crisp as you sat against the rough trunk of a tree, the bark digging into your skin through your thin jacket. You didn’t seem to mind, though; your attention was far too sucked into the book that was in your hands. You hummed softly as you turned the page, not realizing that you were almost already finished with the book.

A loud gunshot rang through the air, causing you to jump, the book falling from your hands as you scrambled to your feet. There weren’t supposed to be hunters in this area of the woods. The birds squawk loudly overhead, and you start to panic.

Completely forgetting about your book, you rushed in the direction in which the gunshot had come from. You smacked a few branches out of your way until you came to a clearing, yet what you found shocked you.

A man hunched against a tree, his hand clutching his side. Yet that wasn’t what caught your attention; no, it was the ears that sat on top of his black hair. The fox hybrid ears that you had only seen a few times, seeing as the species tends to keep to themselves.

Sensing your presence, he looked up, meeting your shocked gaze with wide eyes. He hadn’t expected there to be another person in the woods. Were you with the hunters who were after him? 

“Are yo–” You started to ask, taking a step closer to him when you noticed the crimson liquid that coated his hand, but he quickly shushed you. Confused, you opened your mouth once more but quickly closed it when you heard rushed footsteps.

“Hey!” A voice shouted, causing your head to snap over to a group of hunters, all of them holding rifles, aiming directly at you. Your heart leaped into your throat, and your hands shot up in surrender. You could tell by their appearance that they weren’t just any regular hunters. No, the insignia they wore on their coats was from a very prominent hybrid hunter organization. 

You could see the fox hybrid from the corner of your eye, but you didn’t dare glance over, not wanting to give them any hints as to where he was because you were sure that he was who they were after.

Swallowing thickly, you opened your mouth, “can I help you?”

“Did you see a fox hybrid run by here?” One of the men in the front asked, his rifle still aimed at you, and your nerves spiked seeing how close his finger was to the trigger. These people were ruthless and would kill just about any and everything that got in their way.

Wooyoung, in turn, watched you, his heart pounding in his chest at the mere thought of you throwing him under the bus for your own safety. It's what every human does, after all. So he started to rack his brain for any possible ways to get out of this alive. That was until he heard you speak, his ears twitching slightly in shock.

“N-No, it’s just been me out here.” You spoke as your heart hammered against your ribs the longer he held you at gunpoint. The hunter looked at you skeptically as he took a step in your direction, and you quickly spoke again to keep him from coming any closer and finding the dark-haired male. “But I did hear scuffling in that direction on my way over!” You spoke quickly, pointing in a different direction, and the hunter raised an eyebrow, staring you down for a moment, waiting for you to show any signs of lying, but he thought you would have to be some kind of idiot to lie while you had multiple guns pointed directly at you.

“Thank you.” He nodded curtly before lowering the rifle, which in turn resulted in the others lowering theirs as well. You offered a meek smile, your hands still in the air as you watched him motion the others in the direction you pointed them in.

The air around you was silent as you watched their retreating figures, your heart beating so loud you could hear it through your own ears. Then, when they were far enough away, Wooyoung let out a groan, which pulled you out of your daze.

Without much thought to it, you rushed over to make sure he was okay, but as soon as you reached out to him, he growled, bearing his teeth at you, “Don’t touch me.”

He looked at you, a mixture of pain and fear pooling in his dark eyes, and you felt your heart drop. Swallowing thickly, you shrugged off your jacket, not caring that the cold air nipped at your bare arms, and held it out to him.

“I just want to help; I promise I’m not here to hurt you.” You spoke softly, meeting his eyes once more, and he looked between you and the jacket you were holding out. Reluctantly, he took the clothing, his fingers brushing the palm of your hand, sending a flurry of sparks along your skin. “My cabin isn’t too far from here, I can tend to your wound, and you can go after that. I just want to help.” You reassured him, keeping a comfortable distance between the two of you.

Wooyoung looked at you skeptically for a few long moments, weighing the pros and cons. He could either send you away and risk bleeding out in these very woods before he could get home, or worse, the hunters find him again. Or he could swallow his pride for a bit and allow you, a human, to help him and then he’d be free to go on his own way.

“Fine.” His tone was cold as he pushed himself off of the tree, and you stepped forward but stopped short when he let out a low growl. 

“You need to add more pressure to it.” You stated as you took a step towards him despite the warning in his eyes and his ears flattened against his head. All signs that you should back off, but you pushed the fear to the side and walked towards him until you were just inches away.

He watched you with a keen gaze as you moved around him to wrap your jacket around his torso and then tie it. You jumped when a pained hiss left his lips, and his hand grabbed your wrist tightly, mumbling an apology as you finished tying off the knot after he released your wrist. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do until you got back to your cabin.

You wanted to offer to help him walk, but judging by the way his ears still haven’t relaxed and his tail is tucked down, he wasn’t going to let you do more than just lead him. Stepping away once more, you noticed that he relaxed a little bit when you weren’t so close, so you took the chance to point in the direction of your cabin.

“It’s just this way, if you need help let me kn–”

“I can walk on my own," he growled. You quickly nodded, backing off and allowing him to follow you.

–

It took a little bit longer to get to your cabin than you originally thought because Wooyoung had twisted his ankle while running, so he lagged behind. You wanted so badly to help him, but you knew not to overstep any boundaries for your own safety. But the two of you made it inside without too much of a problem, and as soon as you shut the door, you pointed towards the couch.

“You can sit there; I have to grab my first aid kit," you told him before turning and walking down the hall, leaving Wooyoung standing there.

He looked around the living room, expecting to find any sign that you might be with those hunters. Yet all he found were paintings of various nature elements and a few photographs of you and two other girls, one he knew was a cat hybrid the moment he saw her ears.

Surprised wasn’t even the word that he would use. After the war that broke out between humans and hybrids, he was sure that no other humans treated hybrids with any semblance of respect. Moving further into the house, he was met with a strong smell of vanilla and cashmere, but your scent overpowered everything else. It was sweet like cherries, but with a hint of vanilla and sage as well—a scent he had never smelled before.

Unbeknownst to him, Wooyoung’s tail started to wave softly behind him, and his ears relaxed a bit more as he picked up on the sound of you in the other room. Even when the place felt safe, he couldn’t help but keep his guard up, knowing he’d fallen into the same trick before, which cost him severely.

After finding the first aid kit, you walked back into the living room, finding the fox limping around the room as he looked at the decorations on your walls. Letting out a small cough, you caught his attention, and he looked over at you. He then walked over to the couch that you had pointed out earlier and sat down, a groan falling from his lips as he did so.

You walked over and sat the first aid kit next to him, and he suddenly froze at how close you had gotten, a low growl reverberating from his throat. You looked over at him, finding his upper lip twitching slightly, and you took a small step back, a huff leaving your lips.

“If you want me to help, you need to let me near you.” You stated, and Wooyoung glared at you but stopped growling, and you took that as a sign. Retaking your spot in front of him, you started to reach for the knot of the jacket but stopped short; he started growling in warning once more. Titling your head to look at him, your breath hitched in your throat when you realized just how close you were to him. Your eyes trailed along his features, the sharp eyes, the beauty mark that was right under his eye, then to the few scrapes he had on his cheek and jaw. His dark eyes bore into you, captivating you, and something about his closed-off nature pulled you in.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you ignored his growling and undid the knot of the jacket sleeves before carefully pulling the blood-soaked cloth away. Once it was off, you threw it to the ground to deal with later. Then, without another thought, you dropped down to your knees in front of him, causing Wooyoung to look at you in surprise, the growling suddenly stopping.

“Now you can either lift your shirt or take it off; either way, I need to see the wound, "you told him as you looked up at him, missing the red that dusted his cheekbones.

He looked down at you, his hands hesitantly reaching for his shirt before pulling it up just enough to reveal his lower torso. You had to stop yourself from gawking at his toned abdomen, but that didn’t stop your heart from accelerating.

Shaking your head softly, you rose up to your knees to look at the wound, and you could tell instantly that it was a gunshot wound, which didn’t surprise you. However, you hoped that it was all the way through because you didn’t have the means to remove bullets. Without a word, you peeked around his torso to look at his back, and a sigh left your lips.

“So good and bad news,” You started, moving to sit on your heels once more to look up at him, “good news, I’m pretty sure it missed anything vital, and it went completely through, so there’s no bullet for me to take out.” You told him, and he just looked down at you, not uttering a word, “Bad news, I’ll need to stitch both the entry and exit wounds, which are going to hurt because I have nothing to numb the pain.”

“If you’re worried about me passing out, don’t. I’ll be fine, so just get on with it.” His voice was gruff as he glared down at you, and you nodded before reaching for your first aid kit.

Not a word was spoken between the two of you as you started to clean the area around the wound. When you started to clean the wound itself, Wooyoung let out a pained hiss, and you apologized before blowing on it to try and alleviate some of the pain.

Wooyoung watched you in curiosity; he had never been treated this kindly by humans. Most of the ones he’s met were assholes, to put it lightly, only wanting him to show off to their human friends like he was some kind of prize. Then, the one human he thought he could actually trust turned out to be just as bad, if not worse, than the others, and some of the wounds from then were still healing.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even realized that he had been staring or that you had even said anything until you waved a hand in front of his face. He blinked a few times before focusing on you once more, the same hard gaze returning to his eyes as he raised an eyebrow.

“I need to clean the other side.” You told him as you stood and sat on the couch next to him, but he didn’t move.

Unease settled into his bones at the thought of turning his back to you, knowing that he would be defenseless if you were to attack him. As if you sensed his unease, you offered him a small, reassuring smile.

“I promise I’m just going to clean and stitch it.” You told him, your hands sitting in your lap as you held his eyes.

He stared at you for a few moments more, contemplating, but there was something in the back of his mind telling him that he could trust you. So, with slight hesitancy, he shifted on the couch with a pained groan until his back was to you.

You covered your mouth to muffle the shocked gasp that fell from your lips at the sight of his scarred skin. Most of them were healed and scarred over, but there were a few that were still fresh, meaning they had just happened recently. You reached out, your fingers brushing over the skin, but you were quick to pull away when the dark-haired male growled, his narrow eyes glaring at you from over his shoulder. Muttering an apology, you focused on the task at hand and started to clean the exit wound, repeating the same process from the other side.

You had heard from your friend that some hybrid owners would whip them, and at first, you couldn’t believe it because there had been laws in place before the war. Yet, looking at these wounds, you were sure that they had come from a whip. You then started to wonder if the person who had done this called the hunters to go after him. It pained you to know that humans could be so cruel, and you wanted nothing more than to wash away his pain, but for now, you could just help him with this one.

Goosebumps littered the male's skin when your warm breath met his skin as you blew on the wound once more. His tail twitched before laying itself across your lap, causing your eyes to widen, but you didn’t say a word, scared that it would scare him off again. Once the wound was clean, you grabbed your suture kit before sitting back to look at him.

“I’m going to stitch the exit wound first, but if you need me to stop at any time, just tell me.” You explained this to Wooyoung, and he turned his head to look at you, a dark gleam pooling in his brown iris.

You let out a sigh when he didn’t say a word before moving to sit at a better angle to stitch up the wound. As soon as you started, his hand that wasn’t holding his shirt up gripped the back of the couch, his knuckles turning white. Pain struck your heart seeing him in pain, but you knew you needed to get this done, so you focused unless he told you to stop, but he never did. After you finished off the last suture, you grabbed some bandages and covered the wound before moving away completely.

“Okay, one side done.” You told him, and he turned his body back around, watching as you knelt down on the ground in front of him once more. His eyes were on you the entire time that you started to wipe some of the fresh blood off. As you brushed over the wound again, his body jerked, causing you to lose your balance, and your hands flew out to steady yourself. However, your breath caught in your throat when you realized that it was his leg that you had used, your other hand on the couch next to his hip. Embarrassed, you fumbled over an apology as you moved away, and Wooyoung just shook his head, eyes averting your gaze as heat flushed over his face.

He would never admit it openly, but the feeling of your hands on him was nice, your skin was soft, and your scent was intoxicating, more so the closer you got. Swallowing thickly, he turned his head as you got to work stitching him up.

Once you were finished, you moved back, packing up your first aid kit before turning to look at the fox, his head still turned. “I’m all done. You’re free to leave, but you’re also more than welcome to stay here.”

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything before you scurried out of the room and towards the kitchen. Wooyoung just watched as your figure disappeared into the other room, his mind fighting with him.

He knew that he was going to leave, but why was he so hesitant about doing so? Shaking his head, he stood to his feet, a pained groan falling from his lips as he did so. He then walked around the couch and towards the door, yet when he reached for the door handle, he felt a tug at his being.

‘Don’t go.’

The voice in the back of his head became clearer than ever, the tugging growing by the second. He retracted his hand to look down at his palm. There was no way he was going to trust another human in his life, but why did he feel such a pull towards you?

Looking out the window, he saw that the sun had already set, and he gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to be able to make it back home safely at this time. So he let out a huff, deciding that it would be best to just stay here for the night and leave first thing in the morning.

You stood in front of the stove, waiting for the kettle to finish warming up, your mind going back to the whip marks on the male’s back. Wondering who would be so cruel to do that to another person, but in this day and age, you knew that that answer would be hard to get because almost ninety percent of the human population saw hybrids as mere toys or prey for their sick games.

Wooyoung followed where you had gone, finding you standing before the stove. His ears could pick up the steady beat of your heart, and your scent once again invaded his senses. Scrunching up his nose to try and alleviate the overpowering smell, he walked towards you, the question that had been on the tip of his tongue finally falling from his lips.

“Why do you care so much?” His voice broke the silence causing you to nearly jump out of your skin, having not heard him walk in. You turned to look at him, thinking about his question for a moment.

“No one deserves to be treated like that.” You spoke softly as you looked at him, and you could clearly see the suspicion in his eyes, which you didn’t blame him; your kind wasn’t exactly the best to his, “after the war broke out, I vowed to help as many hybrids that I could which in turn got me into trouble, but I didn’t care as long as they were safe.” You explained to him before turning around to pull the screaming kettle off of the stove, pouring some of the boiling liquid into a mug with a tea bag.

Wooyoung just looked at you in confusion. He could tell by your steady heart that you weren’t lying, but he was still perplexed at the thought of you genuinely caring about hybrids. No human did, especially if it meant they would have to leave their normal lives.

“My parents ended up kicking me out after they could get me to change my mind.” You told him, answering the question that was biting at the back of his mind. You let out a sigh before opening a cabinet and pulling out another mug and tea bag, not sparing him a glance as you recalled your parents' methods to ‘persuade’ you. “My best friend is also a hybrid, but she only comes around when it's safe.” You tried to change the subject a little bit as you set the kettle back on the stove after turning it off.

The room then fell silent as you finished up the tea before you turned with both mugs, offering one to the taller male. Wooyoung looked at it skeptically but took it from your hand nonetheless, his fingers brushing against yours, and he could have sworn he felt a shock of some kind.

“I never caught your name.” You spoke as you took a small sip from your own mug, your eyes never leaving his. He mulled over whether or not to give you his name, but in the end, he didn’t see any harm in it.

“Wooyoung.” He told you curtly, and you smiled; it fit him, really.

“I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself before the room fell into a semi-comfortable silence.

You watched as Wooyoung took a sip of the tea, and you laughed softly at the disgust that twisted on his face as soon as the liquid touched his tongue. He looked down at the mug as if it had offended him, his ears twitching slightly, and you couldn’t help but find it cute.

“What is this?” He asked as he sat the mug down on the counter and looked over at you as you took another drink from your own mug.

“It’s chamomile tea," you told him with a small laugh before grabbing his mug and setting it next to the sink. It helps calm the nerves.”

“Well, it’s gross as hell," he quipped as his nose scrunched, causing you to smile endearingly. At the sight, Wooyoung felt his heart speed up under his ribs. Clearing his throat, he ran his fingers through his hair, but the pain that shot through his abdomen caused him to hiss, and you quickly looked back at him.

“Are you okay?” You asked, taking a step towards him, but that same warning gleam in his eyes from before stopped you.

“I’m fine. Is the couch free?” he asked, and you looked at him with scrunched eyebrows. Had he not expected you to let him use the bed? Seeing your expression, he let out a huff. He knew you were too good to be true. " Forget it. I’ll sleep on the floor.” He then turned and started to walk out.

Panicking a little, you sat your mug down, not caring that some spilled before you rushed forward to grab his arm, stopping him. He looked back at you, and he half expected you to tell him to sleep outside, but your words caught him completely off guard.

“I have a guest room; you don’t have to sleep on the couch or the floor.” You told him as you released his arm, taking a tentative step back as he looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Interlocking your fingers, you looked up at him. “I can show you the room. I think I have some of my brother's old clothes in there that might fit you if you want to change them.” You told him hesitantly because you had heard about how male hybrids could be about other males' clothing; it didn’t matter if they were human or not.

He stared at you for a moment, trying to figure you out. Running his tongue over his teeth, you felt your heart leap at the sight of his elongated canines, your fingers tightening around each other. Once he agreed, you led him to the spare room, opened the door, and let him walk in.

“Make yourself at home, be wary of your stitches, and don’t get them wet until the twenty-four-hour mark passes.” You told him as you watched him walk into the room, and you noticed that he wasn’t limping anymore, which wasn’t too much of a surprise, seeing as hybrids have heightened healing. “Um, I’ll leave you to it. The clothes are in the wardrobe, and if you need anything, I’m just across the hall.” You pointed over your shoulder, and the dark-haired male nodded as he looked over at you. You offered a small smile before turning and leaving, closing the door behind you.

Wooyoung stood in the middle of the room for a few more moments before his gaze traveled over to the wardrobe, his lip curling in disgust. He would much rather sleep in his dirty clothes than wear anything that’s been near another male. So he walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. He started to bend down to pull his boots off, but the pain stopped him.

Growling in annoyance, he pulled his leg up to unzip them, kicked them off, and lay down in the bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was met with your scent once more. It seemed like no matter where he went, you followed, but this was your home after all, so he shouldn’t be too surprised. Rolling onto his uninjured side, he tried to sleep, which wasn’t too hard after the long and exhausting day he had. 

The loud rumbling of thunder woke Wooyoung dead out of his sleep, his body jolting upwards. His face twisted in pain as his hand covered his wound, pain erupting from the area. Looking around the room he noticed a digital clock sitting on the dresser that sat on the other side of the room.

‘3:47am’

Throwing the blankets off his legs, he stood from the bed and made his way towards the door. Opening it, his ears twitched as he heard movement from somewhere else in the house. Peeking out, he noticed the lights on at the end of the hall, where the living room was. Listening closer, he tried to see if he could hear anything, but the padding of the rain outside made it hard.

Carefully, he walked out of the room and down the hall with light on his feet in case it was an intruder. However, when he turned the corner all he found was you sitting on the couch, a book sitting in your lap. The dim glow of the lap that sat on the side table next to you cast a faint glow upon your skin. He couldn’t tell if it was just his sleep-fogged brain or not, but you looked breathtaking to him, and he hated that he saw you in that kind of light.

Swallowing thick, he turned to leave, not wanting to bother you or be close to you and your intoxicating scent just in case it got to his head. Yet when another clash of thunder vibrated the house, he grimaced, his hands reaching up to pull at his ears.

Hearing the floorboards creak, you looked over and found Wooyoung standing there, messing with his ears. You knew that they had sensitive ears, so you were sure that the thunder was hurting them. Putting the bookmark back into your book, you closed it before setting it down on the coffee table.

Noticing movement from the corner of his eye, Wooyoung looked over to see you standing and walking towards him. He wanted to back away and tell you to not touch him, but he could force the words off of his tongue. You stopped just a few feet in front of him, looking him over. His hair and the scruff on his ears were all messy from his sleeping, and you took note that he was still wearing his clothes. Looking back up to meet his eyes you could see the borderline fear and pain swirling in his chocolate orbs.

“Why don’t you sit down? We can watch a movie until the storm passes.” You told him as you motioned to the couch. As much as he would like to tell you to screw off, he found himself nodding and following you to the couch, taking the empty space next to you but leaving a good amount of space between the both of you.

After you both got comfortable on the couch, you found a movie and pressed play before turning the volume up just enough to drown out the sound of the rolling thunder outside. You handed him the throw blanket after noticing that he was starting to shake slightly, but otherwise, you left him alone, not wanting to push any limits.

The room was quiet, except for the sound of the movie playing through the speakers. You sat with your legs curled underneath you as you played with the loose threads on the couch arm.

“Why are you awake?” His voice caused your heart to jump into your throat, startled by the sudden noise before you glanced over at him.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You told him before turning your gaze back to the TV, your racing heart starting to calm, but Wooyoung’s eyes never left your form.

“Because of the storm?”

You took a moment to respond, mulling over what you should tell him. "Yeah… " It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to burden him with your problems.

Wooyoung could tell that you hadn’t told the full truth, but he wasn’t going to push for answers, so he just left it at that and went back to watching the movie.

About an hour and a half later, the storm finally calmed, and Wooyoung had fallen back asleep on the couch. You couldn’t bring yourself to wake him up, so you just left him after making sure that he was completely covered. 

Grabbing your phone from the coffee table, you looked at the time and saw that it was a little bit after six. So you stood and made your way back to your room to change, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You were going to run to the store to grab a few groceries as well as a change of clothes for Wooyoung, something that you knew he would wear and that wasn’t already worn by someone else.

–

Wooyoung woke up with a groan, his arm covering his face from the harsh rays of sunlight. After a few moments, he lifted himself up and looked around the living room. Had he fallen asleep in here last night? His eyes then fell on a pile of folded clothes that sat on the table, a piece of paper sitting on top of them. 

Reaching over, he grabbed the note, thinking that you had just laid out more of your brother's clothes for him to change into. However, as he read the note, his eyebrow raised.

‘I went to the store this morning and got you something to change into; I wasn’t too sure about your size, so I hope they fit. There’s food in the fridge, and if you need anything, I’ll be in the backyard.’ - y/n

He found it hard to believe that you actually bought him something, but as he grabbed the T-shirt, he found that the tags were still attached, and the only scent he could smell was the faint aroma of the store. His eyes then shifted to the backdoor that he could see through the doorway of the dining room back to the shirt in his hands. He was surprised but grateful nonetheless, so he gathered the clothes before heading back to the guest room to change.

When he was done changing, he went to hunt for you, which wasn’t too hard, seeing as he could hear you humming to yourself through the open window in the kitchen. So he opened the back door and found you sitting on a swinging bench with yet another book in your hands.

At the sound of the door opening, you moved your gaze away from the page you had been reading. A small smile tugged on your lips at the sight of him wearing the clothes you had bought. Closing the book, you sat it to the side and gave him your full attention.

“Do they fit alright?” you asked, and he nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment as he noticed the dark bags that had formed under your eyes. You then remembered his bandages and stood to your feet, “Have you changed your bandages yet?”

“No, I was gonna ask you where they were.” He told you that the hairs on the back of his neck stood tall when a gust of wind blew past him, and he shivered. “Why are you out here when it’s this cold?” He wasn’t even sure where the question had come from, but he wanted to know the more the chill settled into his bones, and he started to shiver.

“It’s not that bad as long as the wind isn’t blowing," you explained before grabbing your book. "Now, let's go change your bandages.” You walked back to the door and opened it before walking in, Wooyoung close behind you, ready to get out of the cold.

As you were bandaging his stitches, you started to wonder why he hadn’t left when he looked like he was ready to run out that door any moment yesterday. Unknowingly, Wooyoung was wondering the same thing to himself. He was sure that he would just leave after waking up. Yet he once again found himself being tugged back to you, wanting to stay in your presence. It was annoying as hell.

When you were done, you threw out the old bandages and left everything he needed to change them sitting on the dresser.

“I’ll leave these here for you if you leave, so you have something,” you told him as you made your way to the door. But he quickly caught your wrist in his hand, the skin tingling at the contact. Shocked, you looked back at him with wide eyes, but he kept his gaze averted, his ears folded back.

“Could I stay here?” He hated to ask because the last thing he wanted was to be stuck with a human, but his ‘home’ was merely just an abandoned factory that was on the outskirts of the city that he had made himself comfortable in after escaping the last human he was with.

As if his reaching out to grab you wasn’t shocking enough, his asking to stay here after making it seem like he wanted nothing to do with you shocked you even more. You blinked at him a few times, trying to find the words, but Wooyoung took that as a sign that you didn’t want him there, so he started to let go. At the loss of contact, the shock instantly wore off, and you grabbed his hand, catching him off guard.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask that, but yes, you’re more than welcome to stay here.” Your words came out rushed, worried that he would try to stop you if you didn’t speak fast enough. Wooyoung looked at you in shock for a moment before his eyes fell to where you were still holding onto his hand, noticing his gaze you quickly let go with an apology, sticking your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. “Uh… I’ll be out back again if you need anything!”

Wooyoung couldn’t help the small smile of amusement that spread on his lips as you tucked tail and rushed out of the room, and he definitely didn’t miss the faint blush on your cheeks. He let out a breath of air before turning and going back to the bed.

Something about you kept pulling him to you, and he wanted to figure out what it was. However, he was also worried that if he opened up too much, it would just be a repeat of last time. So, he decided to keep a good distance between the two of you so he wouldn’t run the chance of trusting another human.

It couldn’t be that hard, right?

The first week that he was there, it was easy to avoid being around you too much unless you were helping him change the bandages on his back. However, the longer he stayed with you, the more that he found himself drawn to you, and it became hard to avoid you.

Even now, as the both of you sat on the couch watching TV, the empty dinner plates were sitting on the coffee table. He sat close to you, wanting to soak in the warmth that you give off, yet he was hesitant about it, but even in the short amount of time you’ve known him you knew what he was wanting. So carefully, you reached over and grabbed his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers together. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes landed on where your hand sat in his, but you didn’t say a word nor look at him.

As much as he hated it he could feel the walls he had built up around him start to crumble the longer he stayed near you. He didn’t really hate it. He just wasn’t sure if he could trust you.

“We can take your stitches out tomorrow morning.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked over at you, offering him a small smile. That’s when he noticed that the dark bags under your eyes had gotten worse, and his eyebrows scrunched up, causing you to laugh softly. "What are you looking at? Do I have something on my face?”

“Have you been sleeping?” His question caught your off guard and you looked at him with wide eyes.

Was it really that evident that you haven’t been sleeping well? You were sure that you had managed to cover the eyebags, just maybe not good enough. Letting out a short laugh, you reached up and rubbed the back of your neck as you turned your gaze away from him.

“Is it really that obvious? I’ve always had trouble sleeping, but it's been worse here lately.” You explained to him, releasing his hand, and he watched as you laid it on your lap. He started to worry that it had something to do with him, but you were quick to catch on, looking back over at him with a small smile. “It’s not because of you, it’s just…” A part of you wanted to spill everything to him; something about him just drawing you in like a string that was attached to your soul, but you didn’t want to overstep any lines that would make him uncomfortable.

Against his better judgment, Wooyoung reached over and took your hand back into his, interlocking your fingers together once more. Surprised, you looked down at your intertwined hands before looking up to meet his gaze. Then, despite all of the warning bells that were ringing in his head, he opened his mouth and spoke softly.

“You can tell me.” He reassured you, and you felt your heart leap at the sincerity in his eyes.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to trauma dump.” You tried to laugh it off, but he squeezed your hand, pulling your attention back to him. His gaze alone told you that he wasn’t going to let you go until you talked about it, so you just slunk back into the couch with a sigh. “My parents used to um… hit me to put it lightly back when everything was happening with the hybrids. They would wait until I was asleep in bed to come in and drag me out.” Your voice shook softly as you started to explain, averting your gaze to your and Wooyoung’s interlocked hands, watching his thumb brush the back of your hand. “Even after they finally kicked me out, I would wake up from night terrors. They got better after a while, but sometimes they get bad again, and I just can’t bring myself to sleep. I’m still petrified at the thought of them barging into my room again, so I just stay awake. Better safe than sorry.”

After you finished explaining, Wooyoung just looked at you. Even back then, you would rather take those beatings from your parents than turn against his kind. He started to see you in a new light, and he found himself even more drawn to you.

He squeezed your hand once again, catching your attention. As your eyes met his, you could feel the tears pooling in your eyes. You quickly apologized as they started to fall, turning your head to wipe them away, but he caught your chin and turned you to look back at him. He brushed his thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away the tears before he spoke again.

“As long as I’m here, you don’t have to worry about anyone hurting you like that again.” His eyes scanned your face, and he could tell that you were on the verge of breaking down. He wiped a few more tears away before pulling his hand away and you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “You need to sleep; you look exhausted.”

You let out a small sigh, but you knew he was right. It was only a matter of time before something went wrong if you kept yourself awake any longer. So you made yourself comfortable on the couch, propping your arm up to rest your head on the couch, eyes watching the TV.

Wooyoung watched you for a few more moments before turning to look back at whatever movie was playing on the TV. Before too long, he looked over to find that you were fast asleep. Your lips parted slightly, and he couldn’t help but stare. Until he noticed your eyebrows scrunching together, and you started to mumble something.

Releasing your hand, he did the first thing that came to mind: He wrapped his arm around your body and pulled you into his. As soon as your head met his chest, the soft thumping of his heart was heard under your ear. He watched for a moment as your features relaxed and his body went rigid, his ears standing tall when your arms wrapped around his torso. After a few moments, he relaxed, his arm snug around you as he continued to watch TV.

–

When you woke up, you weren’t sure what time it was. Lifting your head, you wiped the sleep out of your eyes but became acutely aware of the body under yours. Moving slowly so as not to wake the male, you reached for your phone and turned the screen to see the time pop up on the screen.

‘2:19am’

Your eyes widened as you realized just how long you had been asleep and without any nightmares at that. Looking back at Wooyoung, you grimaced at the way his head was cranked backwards. Curling your lips inward, you reached out and shook him softly.

“Wooyoung… hey, wake up, Wooyou–” You gasped when he jolted awake, his hand wrapping around your wrist, his eyes alert, and his ears folded back. However, once he realized it was just you, his ear relaxed, and his grip loosed.

“Sorry,” He apologized before releasing your wrist to rub his eyes. “What time is it?”

“A little after two, you should go to bed; you looked uncomfortable.” You told him, guilt creeping up your spine when you realized that he was like that because you were laying on him.

He looked at you for a moment, then said, “If I’m going to bed, then you should, too.”

You wanted to protest, but the stern gleam in his eyes told you that you weren’t going to win this fight even if you tried. So you nodded before standing and turning the TV off, Wooyoung not too far from you.

When you got to your door, you paused for a second, unsure if you would even be able to sleep again. Noticing your hesitance, Wooyoung stopped turning the door handle to his room to look over at you.

“Are you okay?” You jumped at his voice before looking over your shoulder at him.

“I’ll be fine; I’m just not sure if I’ll be able to sleep again.” You told him honestly, but you waved him off quickly, not wanting to bug him further. "Don’t worry about it. Good night, Wooyoung.”

Before he could utter a word, you disappeared into your room, the door shutting softly behind you. He let out a huff, his tail waving behind him, matching his annoyed state. Walking into his room, he decided that it wasn’t really his place to push you, so he just left it be.

You crawled into your bed after changing into a pair of pajamas, but as soon as you lay down and closed your eyes, flashes of those nights came back, and you quickly opened your eyes. Turning onto your back, you stared at your ceiling for a few moments before trying to sleep once again. However, you kept tossing and turning, either too uncomfortable, or fear etched itself in your head as soon as you were about to fall asleep, waking you right back up. With a huff, you started to give up on the idea of sleeping when you heard a knock at your door, nearly scaring the life out of you.

You slowly climbed out of bed and walked over to the door, opening it just enough to look out. Your eyes widened when you found Wooyoung standing there.

“What are you–”

“I can hear you moving around in the other room; I can’t sleep.” He cut you off, and your face dropped. You hadn’t meant to keep him awake. You started to apologize, but he just shook his head, his ear twitching slightly. “You seemed to sleep better when I was with you on the couch, so…” He really didn’t want to spell it out for you, and thankfully, you caught on to what he was saying.

“You don’t have to, I don’t want to trou–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pushed past you into your room, kicking the door closed behind him and pulling you towards the bed.

“Just be quiet and lay down.” His snarky tone was something that you had grown used to over the past two weeks that he’s been here, so it didn’t bother you. No, what was getting to you was the thought of sleeping in the same bed as him. Hearing the sound of your heart rate pick up, he flicked your forehead, causing you to yelp, “We’re just sleeping. Get your head out of the gutter.”

“I– you–” You stumbled over your words in embarrassment, causing the fox to smirk. Your face was a bright shade of pink, and you thanked the heavens that it was dark so he couldn’t see it; at least, you hoped he didn’t. With a pout, you turned, walked over to the other side of the bed, and laid down, your back facing him.

Laughing softly, he took the empty space next to you, pulling the blankets over his body. The room then fell silent as you both laid there, you could already start to feel yourself drift off. Then before too long you had fallen asleep just as Wooyoung thought you would, he then laid his head back down and started to drift off. However, he was jolted from his slumber when you suddenly turned and moved closer to him, your hand brushed against his side as you moved. He stayed still for a moment until you practically curled yourself against his side before he let out a sigh and went to sleep.

–

The next morning you woke up before Wooyoung, a yawn escaping your lips as you went to sit up only to find Wooyoung’s arm draped over your body. Heat crept up your neck as you realized just how close the two of you were, his soft snores filling your ears.

Carefully untangling your body from his, you climbed out of the bed and grabbed a change of clothes before heading to the bathroom attached to your bedroom. Shutting the door behind you, you walked over to the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“Snap out of it, y/n; he’s just trying to help because you’re bothering him. Don’t let it go to your head.” You sighed, turning on the tap to splash cool water over your face.

“You’re not bothering me.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, a small yelp falling from your lips as you looked up, seeing him in the reflection of the mirror.

“When did you…?” You turned to look at him with wide eyes; you hadn’t even heard the door open.

Wooyoung didn’t say a word as he stalked closer to you and you tried to back away only to be met with the counter. He then trapped your body between his and the countertop, leaning down until his warm breath washed over your face.

Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips that were merely inches away from your own and you swallowed thickly. Wooyoung wasn’t sure what had washed over him or if it was just that his rut was coming up, but that pull he felt towards you was stronger than ever this morning.

His hand then found your waist, pulling you against him, causing a soft gasp to fall from your lips. His head then dipped down, lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, “I can hear your heart hammering in your chest, sweetheart.”

“Wooyoung…” You breathed out, your hand pressing against his chest, and you could feel his own heartbeat against your palm. 

The fox hummed as he moved away from your ear to look at you, his tail brushing against your bare thigh. His gaze was intense as he stared down at you, his grip on your hip tightening. You wanted to push him away, but you couldn’t, and neither could Wooyoung as he finally captured your lips with his. Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of his plush lips against yours.

Any hesitance you felt moments before flew out the window as you melted against him, returning his eager kiss. Your arms snaked around his neck as he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You didn’t give him much of a fight as you parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. A soft moan fell from your lips when he gently bit down on your bottom lip, and Wooyoung could feel his pants grow tighter.

His kisses grew hungrier as his hands started to roam your body, fingers slipping underneath your shirt. Your brain started to go foggy as his lips trailed from yours down your jaw before finding purchase on the sensitive skin of your neck.

“W-Wooyoung.” You choked out as he started to leave hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, nipping every now and then, causing your body to shiver. His eager hands found the back of your thigh, hoisting you onto the counter, eliciting a small yelp from you.

“You smell so good.” He groaned against your skin before his hands slipped under your shirt, squeezing at the skin. “Fuck I need you, baby, so bad.”

You moaned softly at his words, your hands gripping his shoulders, “We can’t… your stitches.” You told him, trying your best not to lose yourself in the feeling of his hands on your skin and his teeth grazing your neck.

“It’s fine, they’re coming out today. You said so yourself.” He told you, pulling away from your neck to look at you. The dark lust that pooled in his eyes made your arousal grow tenfold, and you could feel your panties growing wetter.

His fingertips then brushed the underside of your breast, and his eye flickered down to your shirt at the realization that you hadn’t been wearing a bra. With quick movements, he pulled the shirt over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor. His eyes then fell on your bare breast, drinking in the sight with his eyes.

You felt so exposed under his intense gaze, goosebumps littering your skin before you started to cover yourself. However, he was quicker, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into another bruising kiss. A muffled mewl left your mouth when he cupped your breast in his hand, squeezing the soft fat.

“Don’t hide from me. You’re too pretty to hide.” His voice was hoarse as he pulled away from you; his head then dipped down. His lips latched onto the skin right above your breast, and you could feel your sanity slowly slipping away from you.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as he pressed his hips against yours, allowing you to feel how hard he was against your clothed cunt. A gasp fell from your swollen lips when he latched onto one of your nipples, teeth nipping at the sensitive bud.

“B-Bed.” You gasped out when his hand traveled down your stomach to your clothed heat.

Wooyoung let out a low growl, not wanting to waste time, but he detached himself from your breast nonetheless before picking you up. A small yelp fell from your lips as your arms wrapped your arms around his neck.

Walking back into the bedroom, he dropped you onto the bed, a small huff leaving your lips as you fell. Wooyoung didn’t leave you alone for too long, though, quickly discarding his shirt before crawling over you, his lips finding yours once more.

His hands then found the hem of your sleep shorts, fingers wrapping around the waistband, but he stopped and pulled away from your lips.

“Can I?” He asked despite the overpowering need to have you fully, not wanting to push any boundaries there may be. Your eyes fluttered open to look up at him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him back down to you.

“Please,” You spoke softly, pressing a kiss on the corner of his lips, and that was all he needed before he hastily pulled off both your shorts and underwear. The way his eyes were devouring you had you pooling even more, your thighs rubbing together to try and alleviate some of the pressure.

Wooyoung’s head dipped down to your neck once more, nipping at the skin softly as his hand traveled down your body. He pulled your thighs apart before his fingers met with your soaping core, and he groaned against you.

“Fuck I could smell how wet you were, but I wasn’t expecting you to be this wet babydoll.” He groaned against your skin as the pad of his middle finger found your throbbing clit. The sinful sound that left your lips nearly made him lose all sense of control, and he tried his best not to bite down on your collarbone. 

“W-Woo–” You were cut off by a moan when he slipped a finger into your tight walls.

“Shit baby, you’re so tight,” He chuckled darkly as your eyes rolled slightly when he curled his fingers after adding a second finger. There was no way he was going to be able to hold off for much longer before he lost it, so he sped up his pace, his thumb pressing harsh circles on your clit.

“F-fuck!” You cried out, back arching off of the bed and against him. Your mind was starting to shortcircuit when he brushed over your sweet spot, and a broken whine fell from your lips. 

Wooyoung leaned up latching his lips on yours once more, stealing the air right out of your lungs. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him close to you as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. He bit at your lower lip, enough to draw blood before he started to suck on it; the mixture of pain and pleasure sent you toppling over the edge.

“Wooyoung!” You cried out as he continued to fuck his fingers into you, prolonging your orgasm for a few moments before finally pulling them out of your twitching cunt.

You watched with hooded eyes as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, licking your essence off of his digits. The sight was enough to make your need grow all over again, especially with the way his eyes bore into you. Once he was sure he had licked every last drop of your sweet nectar off of his fingers, he leaned back down over you, pressing his lips against yours again. You mewled at the taste of yourself on his tongue mixed with the tangy, metallic taste of your blood from your lip.

“Next time, I’ll have you cumming on my tongue.” He growled against your lips, and you were sure your brain was turning to putty at the thought of him between your thighs, lapping at your cunt like it was his favorite meal in the world. “But for right now… I need to be in you.”

He moved back far enough to pull the string of his sweats loose and pushed them down his legs. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of his cock, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. He was big, way bigger than anyone you had ever been with before, but for granted, you’ve never slept with a hybrid. You then started to wonder whether or not it would fit, swallowing nervously.

Sensing your unease, Wooyoung crawled back over your body, drawing your attention back to his face. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before whispering, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you, baby, I promise.”

You gazed into his eyes for a moment before nodding softly, licking your lips, “o-okay, I trust you.” 

Wooyoung smiled softly before pulling you into another kiss as he grabbed himself at the base, teasing your folds with his tip. You let out soft gasps every time he bumped against your clit that slowly turned into needy whines the more he continued to tease you. Tears from the overwhelming need started to brim in your eyes, and the dark-haired male could have sworn he’d bust right then and there.

“P-please, Woo… I need you, please.” You whined as your fingers tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently.

“Alright, my needy baby.” He cooed before lining his tip with your entrance and slowly pushed into you.

The stretch was like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as he continued to fill you. “Ah, focus on me, love,” Wooyoung whispered softly, coaxing your eyes open, and you looked at him as tears started to spill from the corner of your eyes. “Good girl.” 

You moan at the praise, his length still pushing you until he finally buried himself to the hilt. Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape from the feeling of being stuffed full. Wooyoung groaned as his face fell to the crook of your neck; you were squeezing him so tightly that if he were to move right now, he’d cum.

“W-Woo…” You gasped as he unintentionally rolled his hips against yours. He quickly apologized before stilling his hips, his hand finding yours to interlock his fingers with yours.

Your shallow breaths fanned against his ear as he pressed kisses along your chest, and he groaned at the feeling. Even through your foggy haze, you could notice the effect it had on him. Your free hand moved to the top of his head, your fingers brushing against his ear, and his whole body jolted.

“Fuck baby, don’t do that.” He groaned, moving his head up to look at you and you just looked at him with doe eyes, a small smile tugging on the corner of your lips. You reached up to touch his ear once more but he caught your wrist, a small growl reverberating from his chest. The sound went right to your pussy causing you to clench around him. “I’m trying so hard to not lose control babydoll, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

A choked moan tore from your lips when he rolled his hips into yours, pleasure washing over you in waves as he hit all the right spots in one single stroke. Wooyoung released your wrist and hand to grab your hips when you gave him the green light to move.

Stars danced across your vision as he pulled out before snapping his hips right back into yours. Your fingers dug into the sheets from the overwhelming pleasure. 

“Fuck look at you.” He groaned as he continued his rough pace; it was almost animalistic if you will. His eyes then fell down to where his cock disappeared into your soaping cunt, and he felt himself grow harder at the sight of the small bulge that formed in your lower tummy every time he pushed into you.

“Shit, Woo– fuck!” You cried out as he pushed down on your stomach, making you feel him even more as he fucked into you. Tears spilled from your eyes now as your whole body felt as if it were on fire, your legs trembling around Wooyoung’s waist.

“Are you gonna cum baby?” He cooed down at you as he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, stealing the air from your lungs once more as his tip kissed your cervix at this angle. A loud pornographic moan tore from your lips when one of his hands slid between your bodies, pressing against your clit. “Cum for me, babydoll, please.” He pleaded like he was the one more desperate for your orgasm, but with a few more strokes, you felt that coil in the pit of your stomach snap, and your release gushed out all over his length.

A mixture of his name and broken moans fell from your lips as he continued his fast pace, never slowing down and throwing your body into overstimulation. Your eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling, pushing more tears out, but Wooyoung was quick to kiss them away.

“Just a little bit more; you can do that for me, can’t you, sweetheart?” He whispered into your ear before leaving a flurry of kisses along your skin. His tail brushed along your leg, the feeling of the soft fur sending a shiver down your spine. “‘M gonna fill you up so good, baby. Gonna get you pregnant with my kits; you would like that, wouldn’t you, my love?” 

You mewled at his words, your mind too far gone to truly understand what he was saying to you. Your fingers then found their way back into his hair, your fingertip brushing against his ear, and his whole body shuddered.

“Please Woo– I can’t–” You whined as your hips rolled to meet with his thrusts. Every nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire.

“Shit.” He groaned as he felt his high nearing, and his hips snapped wildly into yours, making your vision turn white, nails digging into his neck. A mixture of a groan and a whimper fell from his lips as he completely buried himself to the hit once more as he came.

“W-Woo!” You cried out when you felt something stretching you even more, and it sent your third orgasm washing over you. Wooyoung buried his face in your neck as you milked his cock for all it was worth.

Once your orgasm subsided, you opened your eyes, blinking away some of the tears before looking over at Wooyoung as he pulled his head out of your neck.

“What is that?” Your voice shook slightly and the fox male just smirked down at you before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“It’s a knot, sweetheart. It’ll go down in a bit, but for now, try not to move too much.” He explained to you, and you let out a huff, and your head fell back, but you were sitting there for too long until Wooyoung flipped the both of you and pulled you on top of his chest. “You’ll probably be more comfortable like this.”

You let out a soft laugh before tilting your head to look up at him. "You better hope your stitches didn’t bust.” You huffed before laying your head back down on his chest as he chuckled. He ran his fingers through your hair before gently squeezing the back of your neck. Before too long, both of you had fallen asleep once more.

–

A few hours later, you were in the kitchen with Wooyoung, sitting on the barstool as you took out his stitches. He hadn’t even bothered to put a shirt on after the both of you woke up, seeing that it would be pointless.

“See, I told you they’d be fine.” He teased you as you removed the last stitch from his abdomen, and you glared up at him before raising back up.

“Yeah, and it's probably thanks to your enhanced healing.” You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged on the corner of your lips when he wrapped his hands around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him. “Woo, I need to get the stitches in your back.” You went to pull away, not missing the pout that formed on his lips or how his ears drooped.

The room then fell silent. The only sound was your soft humming as you worked on removing the stitch from his back. Once they were out, you couldn’t help but brush over the scars, and this time, Wooyoung didn’t growl or even move away; he just let you do as you please.

“They’re from the last human I was with.” His voice startled you, and you looked up, but he didn’t turn his head to look at you. You laid your palm flat against his back as you listened to what he was telling you. “She was the first human that I thought I could actually trust. She treated me with so much kindness and lured me in with false promises. Then, when she had me in her grasp, that nice facade faded, and her true colors showed through.” You could hear the slight tremble in his voice as he explained, your heart aching at the thought of the betrayal he must have felt. “She was… evil, and that’s putting it lightly. Even an inch out of line, and she’d have that damn whip in her hand.” He growled lowly as he recalled all of the painful nights he had to endure in the cold cage that she would keep him in.

You stepped closer to him, your arm wrapping around his chest, and he leaned back into you. He let out a content sigh when you ran your fingers through his hair, smoothing the scruff on his ears.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, but I promise that you will never have to go through that again, "you promised as you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on his temple. He hummed softly, soaking in your warmth because, for once, he actually believed your words.

You both stood there in silence, enjoying each other’s company. That was until the sounds of loud engines interrupted you. Both of you froze, unsure what that sound was. Quickly pulling yourself away from him, you walked with a light step towards the front of the house, peeking out of the front window. What you saw made your heart jump in your throat.

“Shit!” You cursed lowly as you turned back to the dark-haired male who had just walked into the living room.

“What is–”

“Wooyoung, listen to me; in the closet in the guest room, there’s a crawl space. I need you to go and hide in there, NOW!” You rushed, pushing him in the direction of the room, but he fought against you. “Dammit, Woo, go! It’s the hunters, so please go and hide, and for the love of god, do NOT come out no matter what you hear.” You pushed him towards the room once more, and Wooyoung’s heart dropped at the thought of the hunters being here again.

Reluctantly, he did as he was told, rushing into the guest room and shutting the door behind him. Opening the closet door and looking up, he found the crawl space you were talking about. Looking around, he found a bucket and quickly turned it over so he could use it as a step stool. 

With a few pushes, the piece of the ceiling gave way, and he quickly pulled himself up, kicking the bucket away in the process. Once he was inside, he replaced the panel before sitting there, trying to calm his racing heart.

His ears twitched as he picked up on the sound of voices from the other room, and he prayed to god that you would be okay and the hunters would just leave when they couldn’t find what they were looking for.

The hunters had practically busted their way into the cabin and you prayed the Wooyoung made it to the crawl space in time. You jumped when the door collided with the wall roughly, and the group of three men, all wearing the same insignia, walked in.

“You can’t just barge in here.” You stood your ground, glaring at them, but they just looked at you, and the front guy smirked.

“Well, if it isn't the pretty lady from the woods.” He stepped towards you, but you quickly took a step back, keeping a good space between you. “We got word that the fox hybrid was seen in this area.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about; there hasn’t been anyone but me out here.” You stated, heart hammering against your ribs as he signaled for his men to start searching, “hey you can’t just–”

In the next second, your body hit the ground, pain burning on your cheek, and tears stung in your eyes. Looking up, you glared at the man, holding your face.

“See, we would believe that if our sources hadn’t said they saw him right here with you.” He then crouched down in front of you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back, causing a pained cry to leave your lips. “So if you wanna live to see the light of another day, you better start telling the truth.”

Your hands balled into fists as you spit at him, “There is no one but me here, douchebag.”

Another cry of pain fell from your lips when he backhanded you, the metal of his ring busting your lip. Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall as you met the man’s gaze once more. Your eyes narrowed into slits as he leaned towards you.

“You’re quite feisty; I wouldn’t mind keeping you.” He reached toward you, but you quickly knocked his hand away in disgust.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You growled, heart beating frantically the longer the other two men were out of sight. You prayed that they were dumb enough to just look in the obvious places and not give the crawl space a second thought.

Wooyoung could hear the commotion in the living room, but as soon as he heard the pained cry fall from your lips, he wanted to give up his spot so he could make sure you were okay. However, he knew that he would only end up hurting you more, so he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the shuffling from underneath him.

Eventually, it stopped, and the footsteps retreated back towards the living room.

“We couldn’t find anything, boss.” Both men walked back into the room, and you had to fight the urge to let out a relieved sigh.

“Fucking hell.” The man in front of you growled before standing to his feet and looking down at you with a faux smile, “Sorry about the commotion, ma’am.”

You couldn’t help but scoff as they walked out of the house, slamming the door shut in the process. You didn’t dare move until you heard the sound of their engines fade off into the distance.

“Y/n!” Wooyoung called out as he got out of the crawl space, saw the mess the hunters had left, and quickly made a beeline to the living room.

You were just getting back onto your feet when he rounded the corner, and he felt his shoulders relax when he saw that you were okay. That was until you turned to face him, and he saw the blood dripping down your chin from the cut on your lip. And his vision turned red.

“Wooyoung, wait!” you called out to him as he made a beeline for the door, quickly grabbing his arm. “Wooyoung, stop; you can’t go after them!" you exclaimed as you tugged him back until he turned to look at you.

“Look at what they did to you; they need to pay.” He growled as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb gently swiping over the cut, causing you to hiss.

“I’m fine, but you can’t go after them. You alone are no match for all of them.” You explained, and he let out a defeated sigh, knowing that you were right.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead before pulling away and grabbing your hand. "Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He then dragged you to the kitchen, sitting you on the same stool that he had been in just a while ago, the first aid kit in his hands.

You watched him endearingly as he cleaned up the blood from your busted lip before putting a plaster over the cut. After he was done, he wrapped his arms around your smaller frame, pulled you into his chest, and you instantly wrapped your arms around his torso.

“They shouldn’t bother us again, at least not for a long time, if they don’t want to get in trouble for harassing a human.” You told him as you rested your chin on his chest, staring up at him. He looked down at you, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

“That's good because I can’t promise I’ll just sit idly by if they show up again.” He growled, and you knew he wasn’t joking, so you hoped they wouldn’t show their faces again.

You sat in his hold for a few more moments before pulling away and offering him a small smile "Why don’t you go get cleaned up, and I’ll make lunch?”

Wooyoung couldn’t help but smile, but he also wasn’t quick to leave your side just yet, so he refused, staying with you in the kitchen while you cooked. His playful remarks and teasing nature almost made everything feel normal once again.

But nothing fully dissipated until you were curled up on the couch with Wooyoung, watching some random movie while the both of you ate, enjoying each other’s company.

In the weeks after, there were no signs of those hunters, and you couldn’t be happier. You and Wooyoung were more than content with each other's company, even if his cockiness and teasing drove you to your wit's end.

The both of you were happy, and that was more than enough for you.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[a-tiny-thing]

OMG Y'ALL I WAS SLEEPING AND SUDDENLY HAD A FANFIC IDEA 😭😭😭😭

like can someone write a fic inspired by "Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper" and the reader will be both Annaliese (the real Y/N) and Erika (your doppelgänger) while Yunho as King Dominick and Seonghwa as Julian 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 but you'll end up with both of them at the end, cuz it's still you and you iykwim

IF Y'ALL KNOW THE STORY AND CAN WRITE SUMN RELATED TO IT, PLEASE PLEASE I WANT IT!!!

[a-tiny-thing]

The Cat Burglar's Heist

★ PAIRING: Ceo!Jaehyun x Cat Burglar! Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 19.6k (sorry TT)

★ GENRE(S): Fluff, smut, angst, drama, strangers to lovers.

☆ SUMMARY: When you attempt to rob a wealthy businessman, things don't go as planned. Instead of calling the police, he offers you a job. Now, you're left uncertain about whether you can truly start anew or if your past will come back to haunt you.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: explicit sex, unprotected sex, minor character death, loneliness, theft

☆★ NOTES: probably gonna be my last fic for awhile so enjoy!

People might call you a pickpocket, a burglar, a larcenist, or a simple thief. Whatever the label, it didn’t matter to you; you always slipped away unnoticed. You never hit the same neighborhood twice, always staying light on your feet and never lingering too long in one place. There was only one rule you lived by.

Don't Get Caught.

Maintaining a low profile was essential whenever you scouted a new neighborhood. As the sun beat down, you strolled through the area with a dog at your side, scanning for the easiest target. The shades you wore partially concealed your identity while shielding your eyes from the scorching sun. Your friend’s dog trotted happily beside you, blissfully unaware of the role it played in your plan. If your friend found out you were using his beloved pet as cover for your schemes, he would kill you. You had to keep this under wraps—after all, your friends were all you had. Stealing was the only way you could keep pace with the lifestyle your friend enjoyed.

You refused to be left behind, so the money you made from stealing became your lifeline for fitting in. Each successful job meant another night out, another round of drinks, and another chance to blend seamlessly into your friend group’s lavish lifestyle. You had built your world around them, and you’d do anything to keep up appearances, even if it meant walking a dangerous line.

Daegal fit right in with the neighborhood, his designer leash and collar catching the sunlight. You wandered deeper into one of the city's wealthiest enclaves, surrounded by towering trees that served as natural barriers for the sprawling estates. Luxury cars glimmered in driveways, while some homes flaunted their riches with intricate architectural designs that spoke of unspoken fortunes.

As you walked, Daegal suddenly slowed his pace, his nose twitching at the approaching scent of another dog. You felt your palms grow clammy around the leash; the fewer people who noticed you, the better. You were keenly aware of the risks, and any unwanted attention could spell trouble.

The older lady, her silver hair gleaming in the afternoon sun, approached with her fluffy Pomeranian in tow. A wave and a smile erupted from her, directed toward Daegal, and you cursed under your breath. The last thing you needed was a conversation.

The two dogs tilted their heads, inspecting one another with the calm demeanor that only well-trained pets possess. You could feel her gaze on you, and you forced a tight smile onto your face, betraying none of your rising anxiety.

Wonderful!

"He's so cute! What's his name?" you ask politely, forcing a bright smile.

"His name is Prince, but the kids call him Pudding," the older woman replies with a hearty laugh.

You let a small chuckle escape your lips. "How adorable!"

"And what about this handsome fella?" she inquires, her eyes sparkling with warmth.

“His name?” Your mind races, almost short-circuiting. "He's… Fluffy!” you say, trying to keep your voice steady and convincing.

You know rich people have more connections than they do money, and there's a good chance she could be linked to your friend Chenle somewhere down the line. It’s safer to spin a little tale.

"Well, he's quite the charmer! I'm sure he’s brought you many joys," she continues, obliviously cheerful, while tension coils tighter in your veins. “It’s a pleasure to have you in the neighborhood! Someone as young and pretty as you would fit right in!” Her compliment catches you off guard, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly at her kind words.

“Thanks!” you reply quickly, hoping to deflect attention from the flush creeping up your face. "I love it here."

She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, about a month ago, this really young CEO moved in just a block down. He's a bit too young for me, but my goodness, he’s quite the sight," she said, laughing heartily as she swatted her hand playfully, as if sharing a scandalous secret.

Rich people thrived on gossip, and you realized you didn't have to say much for her to fill you in on exactly what you wanted to know.

"A man like that has to be tied down, right?" you asked, bending down to pet her dog.

"From what I’ve heard, he lives alone," she said, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "Apparently, he works all the time. Word is, he comes home late every night. My husband says he drives an Aston Martin."

Bingo

"Thanks for the heads-up about the neighborhood hottie, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now," you joked, lightly chuckling to keep the conversation light. Just then, Daegal began to fidget, sensing your restlessness, and you took it as your cue to leave. "I’ll see you around, okay?"

As you walked a block down, your heart raced when you spotted a sleek black Aston Martin parked in a long driveway. The houses in this neighborhood were enormous. Although the properties weren’t far apart; the homes were set back from the road, mostly hidden by towering trees that provided an extra layer of privacy.

A young CEO who lives alone and works late.

You mentally sifted through the details you had gleaned from your earlier conversation. He was the perfect target.

Rich people were easy targets. Their homes, adorned with elaborate security measures, falsely reassured them of safety; all it did was signal that they had something worth taking. The flashy yard signs proclaiming "This home is under surveillance by _" told you their security company, which then told you the equipment they used. It wasn't hard to figure out how to disable it from there.

It had been a week since you first gathered your intel. Through careful observation, you had mapped out a schedule for when the house was empty and discovered how to bypass the alarm system. You’d managed to catch glimpses of the homeowner from a distance. The rumors were true; he carried himself with a confidence that only added to his undeniable charm.

Tonight was the night you would make your move. Clad in a black hoodie and sweatpants, you pull your bag over your shoulder and approach the perimeter of the house. Your heart was racing with adrenaline. You navigated the landscape smoothly, well aware of the blind spots in the security cameras. Timing was critical; every second counted.

You pressed yourself against the side of the window, heart pounding as you carefully peeked through the curtain. The green light on the alarm system by the door confirmed it wasn’t armed. This was a stroke of luck. According to your calculations, he should still be at work, and it appeared he had rushed out without arming the system.

You hesitated briefly, knowing this part was your least favorite. Breaking a window was always an awkward and potentially noisy affair. No matter how silent you tried to be, it was impossible to avoid the sound entirely. Taking a deep breath, you picked up a nearby rock, and with a swift, calculated strike, you shattered the glass.

The clatter echoed in the stillness, sending a surge of adrenaline through your veins, but you quickly reminded yourself to keep moving. You reached inside and unlocked the window, then climbed through carefully, stepping over the brittle shards that crunched beneath your feet as they scattered onto the plush carpet.

You found yourself in an open den, its decor exuding wealth and taste. Valuable paintings adorned the walls—masterpieces, maybe—but nothing small enough to pocket. You needed to keep going, focusing on finding something worthwhile.

Peeking your head out of the room, you scanned the hallway. Silence enveloped the house, amplifying the sound of your racing heartbeat. No sign of any pets, which was a relief. You made your way toward the primary areas, passing under the large winding staircase that commanded attention in the center of the home.

The layout seemed to follow suit with luxury; hallways branched off to what you assumed were the kitchen and living spaces. The primary room was likely upstairs, but there were many drawers and cabinets you could check on this level. Eager to find where the real valuables might be stashed, you decided to take a brief look around before venturing up the staircase. You shuffled quietly down the hall.

You glanced into a few rooms—one vast space was styled as a study, filled with leather-bound books and expensive-looking gadgets. A quick search through the drawers revealed a few electronic devices you could easily pocket. Moving on, you turned towards the kitchen, where gleaming countertops hinted at a lifestyle of lavish dinners and entertaining guests.

You couldn’t imagine why he would ever need a home this large if he lived alone; the sprawling floor plan was almost excessive. Each room you passed seemed to hold its own story, yet they stood untouched, as if waiting for guests that would never arrive. The formal dining room sported an enormous mahogany table, set for a feast that would never happen, and the living room boasted a grand piano that echoed a silent invitation to a party long forgotten. The atmosphere felt eerie, the elaborate decor clashing with the emptiness—like a stage set for a play that had never opened.

Your eyes darted toward the staircase. The rich wooden banister glimmered in the ambient light, inviting you to explore the secrets that lay above. You took a deep breath and ascended carefully. As you reached the landing, you spotted a door at the end of the hallway slightly ajar, the flicker of a light spilling into the dim corridor.

When you enter the room, the sweet aroma of cologne lingered in the air like a ghost, a faint reminder of its owner. The sheer magnitude of the space left you speechless. Adrenaline surged through your veins, propelling you forward to the side tables flanking the expansive bed. There, you quickly spotted a discarded high-end watch, its polished surface glimmering in the light. Alongside it lay a selection of intricate rings, each one whispering tales of luxury and allure.

As you rifled through the drawers, your fingers brushed against something solid—a wallet. You opened it, and your eyes immediately fell on the ID card nestled inside.

Jung Jaehyun 02/14/1997

Beneath the ID, you found a stack of credit cards and a few loose bills, all waiting to be claimed. You quickly slipped the wallet into your pocket. You approached the closet, and a gasp escaped your lips as the sight hit you—it resembled a mini-designer store. Expensive shoes, luxurious clothes, and shimmering jewelry lined the walls and shelves, all begging to be claimed. You wasted no time, swiftly swiping rings, watches, chains, and even a pair of stunning shoes, each item adding to the growing bounty in your backpack.

As you rummaged through the treasures, something caught your eye: a safe tucked behind a row of suits. Intrigued, you pushed the garments aside to inspect the lock. Cracking your neck, you glanced at the time—plenty of hours remained before he would return.

Just then, you heard footsteps outside the closet, and your heart dropped. You instinctively moved to hide behind the rack of suits, heart pounding in your ears.

“What the fuck?” A voice sliced through the silence, unmistakably belonging to the man you had been eyeing all week.

You held your breath, peering through the fabric. The hope flickered that he might just turn away and call the police, giving you a chance to slip out unnoticed. But instead, he stepped further into the closet, and your heart raced as you caught your first glimpse of him up close..

His hair glistened with moisture, and he wore nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water still cascading down his skin, the steam from his shower enveloping him like a shroud. You had never seen him this close before, and the image was seared into your memory. He looked as if he had been sculpted from stone by the most masterful artist, every muscle defined, every feature striking.

His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the chaos—the discarded clothes on the floor, the missing racks of jewelry, the disarray of his closet. An annoyed sigh escaped his lips, and just as he seemed ready to turn away and leave, his gaze locked onto your hiding spot.

A jolt of panic shot through you, and you instinctively jumped back, trying to press yourself further into the fabric of the clothes. You held your breath, heart racing, as he took a step closer, eyes narrowing in suspicion. It was a moment of vulnerability and danger, a breathless standoff between the two of you.

Don't get caught

His steps were cautious as he approached, each footfall echoing in the silence of the closet. One hand gripped his towel tightly, clearly trying to maintain his modesty, while the other reached out hesitantly toward the clothes.

If it came to it, you knew you would have to fight him off and make a run for it, but with each passing second, you realized just how difficult that would be. He was built solidly and his height towered over you, casting an imposing shadow.

What if he got his hands on you? The thought sent a wave of dread through you. There would be no escaping him then.

Fuck

In a surge of adrenaline, you dashed out from your hiding spot, heart racing. His eyes widen in surprise as you rush past him, but the exhilaration of your escape was short-lived. Just a few feet away, you felt a sudden tug on your backpack that yanked you backwards.

You hit the floor with a thud, groaning as the impact jolted through you. Before you could recover, you felt a strong grip pinning you down, his hand firm against your shoulders. Panic set in, and you thrashed against his hold, fighting to break free, but he was unyielding.

As your struggle continued, exhaustion began to creep in. The fight drained from you, and you finally stopped, staring up at the man who had you pinned beneath him. His wet hair hung down over you, droplets cascading down onto your face.. His stern eyes bore into yours—there was an intensity that made your breath hitch, a mix of disbelief and something else entirely.

"Let me go!" you demanded, though your voice came out weaker than you intended. If it weren't for the predicament you found yourself in, you would have been unable to stop your wandering eyes. The towel around his waist was precariously close to slipping, a detail that, in ordinary circumstances, might have made you blush. But now, survival instincts prevailed over all else.

“If you try to run, I’ll call the cops,” he said matter-of-factly, and the gravity of his threat sent a chill down your spine.

A beat passed, your heart pounding in your chest, and finally, you nodded, conceding to the reality of the situation. There was no escape now; he had you right where he wanted you.

He released his grip on you and pulled himself off the floor, adjusting his towel. “Back to the closet, now,” he commanded, and you shuffled reluctantly back into the space that had formerly felt enticing but was now suffocating.

As you stepped in, you found yourself standing in front of the center island, where the glimmer of jewels had once laid. He followed you, shutting the door behind him, his body leaning against it like a barrier between you and freedom.

“Is everything you took in that bag?” He asked, his tone even, but there was an undertone of curiosity mixed with authority.

With a heavy heart, you hung your head and nodded, pulling your backpack off your shoulders and placing it on the floor in front of you. You could almost feel the weight of the stolen items pressing down on your conscience. You'd had visions of making thousands selling his valuables, the thrill of your heist driving you forward. But now, in the dim light of the closet, remorse washed over you like a tide.

“I’m really sorry, I—” you started, the words stumbling from your lips. What could you possibly say in a situation like this? Sorry, I almost stole a fortune from you? It felt absurd, but you didn't know how to express the chaos swirling within you.

He moved closer, looming over you as his intent gaze seemed to dissect every part of your being. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt small beneath his scrutiny. When he reached down, you thought he was about to pick up his possessions. But instead, he grabbed a discarded pair of sweats, and you felt a rush of a different kind of embarrassment as he stood up straight, his towel dropping to the ground. You instinctively looked away, sparing him what felt like an invasion of privacy.

Once he was dressed, he stepped back out of the closet, leaving you with a mix of relief and confusion. "Straighten this up, then come see me. Bring that bag and everything you tried to take with you," he ordered.

You swallowed hard. “Where are you going? Are you going to call the cops?”

Your mind raced with possibilities—how clever would he be if he made you tidy up while the police were on their way?

“Do as I say and you will have nothing to worry about," he replied, and there was an edge to his voice. "I don't like messes; clean that up before I change my mind."

Frustration mingled with a strange sense of gratitude. You were infuriated that he was ordering you around like a subordinate, yet the alternative—a police record—loomed much larger in your mind. Why wasn’t he calling the cops?

Taking a deep breath, you began to survey the mess you had made in your frantic attempt to bag his stuff.

It took you at least an hour to set everything back in its rightful place. You meticulously reorganized the jewelry, aligning necklaces and bracelets, smoothing over the disarray you'd caused. You busied yourself with invisible tasks afterward, finding solace in the repetitive act of pretending to straighten his shoes for the fifth time. Avoiding the inevitable confrontation with him was becoming a game of denial.

“I know you’re done; come here,” he commanded, and you froze for a moment. Biting your lip to gather your thoughts, you hesitantly grabbed your bag and stepped out into his room. He was seated on the massive California king bed, an imposing figure that radiated a mix of authority and casual dominance. Leaning back against his hands, he looked every bit like a king surveying his domain, and the sight sent a fresh wave of nerves through you.

“I know it probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but again, I’m really sorry,” you said, forcing the words out as you handed him the bag.

He took the bag from your grasp without much acknowledgment, his focus elsewhere. “Sit down,” he instructed.

You shifted uncomfortably, the anxiety bubbling to the surface. What more could he possibly want from you? He had said he would let you go, hadn’t he? “Sit where?” You looked around the spacious room, taking in the lack of chairs or any other furniture that might serve as a place for you to perch.

He finally lifted his gaze, his hair still damp from the shower, falling into his eyes. “Sit on your knees, right there,” he said, pointing to a spot on the floor in front of him.

You bristled at the command, a mix of confusion and indignation flooding through you. Kneeling before him felt like a submission you had not anticipated, and despite the gravity of your earlier actions, you hesitated to comply with his demands.

“I—" you stammered, trying to find the right words, but nothing came out that didn't sound foolish or defiant.

Seeing your hesitation, his expression shifted slightly, a mixture of patience and something else in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. "You can either sit down like I asked, or we can have a much longer discussion about how this is going to go," he suggested, his tone low but firm, setting the stage for whatever decision you had to make next.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto the floor, feeling the cool surface beneath your knees, and looked up at him, preparing for whatever was to come next.

He reached behind him and pulled out his phone, an unmistakable sense of dread washing over you as he dug into your bag, retrieving the stolen items one by one. Each piece felt like another nail in your coffin.

He was definitely calling the cops TT

But instead of pressing the call button, he seemed to be calculating something. “$532,724,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Your throat tightened at the reality of that number. You were going to jail. Panic bubbled in your chest, and you fought the urge to cry.

He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident on his face. “Let’s see how well you clean up,” he said, standing up and ushering you back toward the closet with a wave of his hand.

You stared at him, your heart pounding as his eyes scanned the confines of the closet where you'd made sure to return everything to its original place. His expression was unreadable at first, a blank canvas that made fear swirl in your stomach. But then it softened, surprising you further.

“Not bad. What’s your name?” He asked, his tone almost casual.

You swallowed hard before nervously answering, “Y/N.”

“How would you like a job, Y/N?”

Your eyebrows shot up, and your jaw dropped in disbelief. This had to be a sick joke. “Excuse me? I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m following,” you stammered, incredulous.

“You will work for me to pay off the debt that you owe,” he replied matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Wait, I didn’t actually take anything!” You argued, your mind racing to process his proposal.

“But you tried,” he shrugged, his casual demeanor shifting to something more serious. “It’s about principle. You made a choice, and now you have to make it right.”

“Are you seriously saying I have to work for you to pay off half a million dollars?” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, a mix of indignation and disbelief gripping you.

“I could always call the police,” he said lightly, but the weight of his words sunk in with more gravity than you expected.

“Whoa now, no one said I wouldn't help,” you laughed nervously, trying to lighten the mood but failing to shake the anxiety coiling within you.

“Great! You start tomorrow. Come in business attire,” he said with a yawn, as if he were sending you off to a regular job rather than a complicated arrangement born out of desperation.

You turned to follow him out, not sure why you're trying so hard to argue him down “Wait, wha—”

Suddenly, a bright flash burst in front of you, and you stumbled backward, temporarily blinded. You blink a few times, trying to regain your bearings. “Ow! What was that for?” you exclaimed, rubbing your eyes.

He smirked as he lowered his phone, the camera still pointed at you. “If you try to run, I’ll post this picture online and tell the world what you’ve done. Then I’ll hand it over to the police so they can track you down.” His gaze was icy as he scrutinized you, taking in every detail. “I have the resources to find you. Don’t make me have to look for you.”

You felt a mix of anger and fear bubble up inside you. “So you’re blackmailing me?” you huff.

“I’m giving you a second chance,” he corrected, his tone slipping back into that unsettling calmness. He stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with a surprisingly firm grip. “8 a.m. tomorrow. Now get out.”

Before you could respond, he gave you a gentle push by your shoulders, urging you toward the staircase. You stumbled slightly but regained your footing. As you made your way down the stairs and out of his house, Your circumstances settled squarely on your shoulders. He wasn’t just a thief of your freedom; he was now your employer, your keeper—at least for the foreseeable future.

He walked with you to the front door, his face a mix of annoyance and curiosity. Just as he was about to close the door in your face, he paused and turned back. “How did you get in?” he quirked a brow.

A small, nervous smile crept onto your lips as you fumbled for an explanation. “Uh, I broke a window,” you admitted.

Jaehyun regards you with an unimpressed stare.

“I’ll clean it up tomorrow!” you added, trying to lighten the mood. “Heh… add it to my bill?”

The door slammed shut in your face, the sound echoing in the cool night air. You turned away from the door and took a few steps down the front path, your mind racing.

The situation was certainly absurd.

—

You roll out of bed at 6 a.m. with a groan, the early morning light cutting through your curtains. You’ve never been a morning person, and the thought of facing the day fills you with dread. After washing up, you slip into an outfit that fits the dress code he set for you—a blend of professional and approachable that feels foreign against your skin.

As you glance at your reflection in the mirror, a fleeting thought crosses your mind: what if you just ran away? With the money you’ve saved up, you could leave everything behind and start anew.

Dont make me find you.

His words echo ominously in your head, sending a shiver down your spine. Jaehyun was an enigma; you could hardly wrap your mind around him, but one thing was clear: he had the resources to track you down, wherever you might try to escape.

You gather your things and head out. When you finally arrive and buzz through the gate surrounding his property, it feels surreal to be walking through the front door. Just a day ago, you’d been climbing over his fence and breaking windows—now you were entering as if you belonged.

As Jaehyun lets you inside, you take in the surroundings anew. The sunlight floods the foyer of his mansion, revealing the space you'd barely noticed in your previous haste.

“Stop gawking. I’ll be back down in a bit; I need to finish getting ready. Go clean up the glass you broke,” he commands coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument as he strides back upstairs. His words and the task ahead settle over you as you prepare to face the mess you made, both physically and metaphorically.

“StOp GawKinG….gO CleAn Up thA GlasS,” you mumble under your breath when he’s out of earshot.

You roll your eyes at his cold demeanor, dismissing it as you head toward the den where you had sneaked in during your last visit. Peeking into the room, you’re greeted by a messy carpet littered with shards of glass. At least the window has been boarded up now. As the daylight streams in, you start to appreciate the paintings that line the walls, each one vibrant and expressive in its own right.

One piece catches your attention more than the others—a striking red canvas that emanates an intense energy. The angry strokes twist together in a way that’s both chaotic and mesmerizing, leaving you to ponder what the artist was trying to convey. As you peer closely, you can’t help but notice the name “Jung Jaehyun” inked subtly in one corner. Your gaze travels around the room, noticing the easel and paints tucked away in the corner; it dawns on you that this isn’t just a display but his workspace. The hard wood beneath your feet breaks the carpeted expanse, revealing about a third of the room transformed into an art studio. Impressed by his talent, you find yourself captivated, the earlier tension momentarily forgotten as you admire the skill behind the chaos.

You shake yourself out of the trance, the allure of the art momentarily fading as you remind yourself of your task. You need to find a vacuum and a trash bin—cleaning up that glass is a priority. Determined, you set off through the rest of the house.

You remember stumbling upon the cleaning closet during your earlier escapades, and you make your way back to it. As you wander, a sense of loneliness hangs in the air, and your suspicions about Jaehyun’s solitary lifestyle only deepen. There was no waitstaff, no other residents—just him in this grand mansion.

You finally locate the vacuum in the cleaning closet, and with the trash bin in hand, you retrace your steps back to the art studio. You kneel on the floor, methodically clean up the shards of glass and place the larger pieces into the bin. You finish cleaning just in time for Jaehyun to come back downstairs.

He fixes the cufflinks on his suit before grabbing his keys. “What else should I tidy up for you? Is there a list somewhere?” You ask.

Jaehyun gives you a puzzled look. “You’re coming with me,” he replies.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “I thought I was…" You trail off.

He lets out a laugh, one that surprises you—it's light and genuine, completely at odds with his usual demeanor. His eyes crinkle up, revealing warm dimples that you find surprisingly charming in that moment. “You thought you were going to be doing housework?”

You roll your eyes. “Well, what else is there for me to do?”

His expression becomes more serious, though the hint of a playful smile still lingers. “I said I had a job for you, and I meant it. Come on.” He opens the door for you, locking the house behind him with a click.

As you both walk toward his car, you can’t help but ask, “Where was your car yesterday?” Strapping yourself in, you feel a mix of bitterness and curiosity about how you ended up getting caught snooping—you really should have paid more attention. If his car had been parked outside, you’d have known he was home.

“It was in the shop,” he replies casually, turning the key in the ignition. “I needed new rims. Have you eaten yet?”

Your stomach growls audibly, and you nod in agreement and Jaehyun stops to get breakfast. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked biscuits fills the car as he orders.

As he goes to pay, you watch him rummage through his pockets, brow furrowing in frustration. It’s then that you feel a pang of guilt. You had meant to return his wallet, found tucked away in your pocket after your first encounter. Nervously, you pull it out and offer it to him, trying to lighten the moment. “Whoops, how’d that get in there?” You joke lightly, but when you glance up, you notice the glare he’s giving you.

“Seriously?” he replies.

You stutter out an apology as you take a cautious bite of your biscuit, almost choking when you see where he’s pulled into next. Your eyes widen as you take in the imposing tall building—it’s sleek and modern, with huge glass windows reflecting the bustling streets of downtown. The heart of the city is alive, and your heart races with both excitement and nerves.

Jaehyun turns to you, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Surprised? I did say I had a job for you.”

“Uh, I thought we were just going to tidy up at home?” you say, trying to mask your nerves.

As you walk through the lobby beside Jaehyun, you can't help but notice the stares that follow you. Heads turn, whispers flit around as employees greet him warmly. "Good morning, Mr. Jung!" They say, beaming at him with admiration. When their gaze finally shifts to you, you catch a mix of confusion and curiosity on their faces. It’s both flattering and mildly embarrassing standing next to someone so well-regarded and polished. You try to maintain your composure, forcing a smile in response, even as you feel a bit out of place.

After navigating through the maze of cubicles and glass-walled offices, you finally enter Jaehyun's office—spacious, elegantly designed, with a view that overlooks the bustling city streets. The decor is smart and sophisticated, reflecting his professional persona. Once the door clicks shut behind you, Jaehyun makes his way over to his desk to settle into for the day.

Jaehyun leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he looks at you with a serious expression. “You’re going to be my secretary,” he states plainly.

Your mouth drops open in surprise. “Wait, what? A secretary?” The idea is almost absurd. “Isn’t that a bit… much? I mean, you do realize I’m not exactly qualified for that, right?”

“I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Plus, it’ll pay way better than doing house chores.”

With a deep breath, you straighten your posture, letting determination creep in. “Whats there to lose?”

—

Being Jaehyun's secretary meant answering his calls, scheduling meetings, and running errands. Of course you could do those tasks… you just couldn't do them well.

A little desk had been set up in Jaehyun's office, where most of your day-to-day tasks took place. His office boasted expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city. At night, the bustling streets below transformed into a magical landscape, with streetlights, headlights, and stoplights twinkling like stars.

You couldn’t help but blame the close proximity of your workspaces for your increasing difficulty with even the simplest tasks, like getting his coffee order right.

You had brought him his morning coffee, like he asked. You still hadn't gotten used to running his errands in his car. You felt so out of place at the office and the whispers and curious glances from your “coworkers” only heightened your anxiety.

When you finally brought him the morning coffee he had requested, your heart raced with hope for approval. But as he took a sip, his focus remained elsewhere, and he set the cup down without meeting your eyes. “It’s wrong, but you’ll get it right next time,” he said, casually brushing off your mistake. “There's plenty of time for you to improve.”

You bit your lip, anxious to prove that you could handle this role. You didn’t want to be seen as a screw-up, but everything felt overwhelming lately. Jaehyun shoos you away, giving you a task to retrieve printed papers from the printer. Your mind was a flurry of thoughts as you returned, but when you stumbled slightly, you fumbled the stack of papers in your hands.

As the papers fall from your grasp, you accidentally knock over a coffee cup, sending the contents spilling across the desk. The dark liquid splashed over papers, pooling on the surface.

Heart racing, you froze, staring at the mess you had just created. “Oh no!” you exclaimed, scrambling to grab napkins from the nearby drawer, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Just breathe,” he said, reaching over to help you clean up the spill. “How do you call yourself a cat burglar with how clumsy you are?” Jaehyun asked, the bemused look on his face suggesting he genuinely wanted to know.

The napkins did little to absorb the liquid, and you could feel the heat seeping through, burning your fingertips. You let out a small wince, instinctively pulling your hand back. Jaehyun sighed at your reaction, and you flicked your wrist in an attempt to shake off the pain while still trying to contain the mess.

“Just hold on,” you muttered to yourself, picking up his laptop and elevating it to protect it from the potential disaster. The last thing you needed was to add an expensive repair bill to the debt you already owed him.

As you awkwardly juggled multiple items that had once laid neatly on his desk, trying to salvage the situation, you suddenly noticed Jaehyun stand up. He took off his suit jacket and, before you could protest, he used it to mop up the spilled coffee.

You gasped as the coffee splashed onto his jacket, but Jaehyun seemed completely unfazed. With purposeful strides, he walked over to you and gently took the items you were juggling, placing them down safely on a part of his desk that wasn’t sticky. Without a word, he grasped your hands, examining your fingers, which were twitching from the pain and already showing signs of red irritation from the hot liquid.

He blew softly on your fingertips, and for a moment, the world around you faded as you met his gaze. The warmth in his chocolate depths almost pulled you in, but before you could lose yourself in that moment, you quickly pulled away.

“I’ll go grab a towel. That’s going to make the wood sticky,” you stammered, turning quickly to leave, your cheeks burning from the tension that hung between you.

You hurried to the bathroom, running cool water over your fingers to soothe the slight burn. Leaning against the edge of the sink, you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. After a moment, you gathered a few items from the cleaning closet, bracing yourself for what lay ahead.

As you walked back, you passed the break room and inadvertently overheard a conversation that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“She’s probably sleeping with him. Mr. Jung has never taken on a secretary before,” one voice whispered.

“That’s what I heard. Not to mention she’s terrible at her job. She just gets in the way. Last week she accidentally printed 300 copies of a page because she didn’t know to hit the cancel button! We ran out of ink because of her, and now I have to go downstairs for my copies until a new order comes in!” another voice chimed in, laced with irritation.

You bristled at their accusations, knowing they were talking about you. It stung, but you pressed on, scurrying past and heading back to Jaehyun’s office. After giving a soft knock, you stepped inside.

Jaehyun had moved away from his desk, now seated on the couch in the corner of his office. He was typing away on his computer, still nursing the little coffee he had left that you had brought him earlier—a cup you knew he didn’t like, judging by the face he made when he first tasted it. His sleeves were rolled up, the tie discarded on the armrest, and the first button of his shirt was undone.

You tried not to stare, focusing instead on the mess at his desk. Moving over, you began cleaning up the sticky residue left by the spilled coffee.

“Excuse me,” you clear your throat. “Is it okay if I drop this off at the cleaners?” you asked, holding up his soiled jacket.

He didn’t look up from his screen, continuing to type away on his computer. “Go ahead, but please be careful,” he replied, pulling his keys from his pocket without sparing you a glance.

“That’s okay; I can just walk. There’s one not too far from here,” you said, attempting to dismiss the need to take his car.

Finally, he looked up at you, his brow slightly furrowed. “You never had a problem with driving my car before. Did something happen?” He asked, setting his laptop aside, his focus entirely on you.

“Well, no, I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea. I mean, I just kinda showed up out of nowhere and suddenly I’m moving into your office and driving your car,” you tried to explain, feeling your anxiety spike. “No one knows why I’m really here, and I can only imagine the types of things people are imagining.”

“What kind of things could they be imagining?” He replied, staring at you blankly.

You laugh at the statement but when you realize he's not being sarcastic, your face drops. You often wonder what kind of person Jaehyun was and what he did for fun. He always seemed to be looking at the world for the first time.

"Well,” you began, gathering your thoughts. “Imagining the types of things I would’ve had to do to get this job,” you said, hoping he would fill in the blanks.

He waited quietly, eyes steady on you, prompting you to continue. “Things like sleeping with you to get this job,” you finally admitted, your heart racing as you vocalized the thought.

Jaehyun's eyes widened, and you noticed his ears reddening, making you wonder if he truly hadn’t known about the whispers circulating around the office. Clearing his throat, he seemed to collect himself.

“You don’t need to worry about things like that,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I don’t want you being gone long. Take the car, and if anyone has something to say, they can come to me about it.”

His gaze was stern, the kind that made you feel as though challenging him would be futile. You could sense the protective edge in his words, and it surprised you. There was a part of you that appreciated his willingness to shield you from the gossip. “Okay, if you insist,” you replied, unable to suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. The gesture felt surprisingly comforting. “I’ll be quick.”

He seemed to relax a little at your compliance, his expression softening. “Thank you. And, uh, drive safely,” he added, almost shyly.

As you walked to the car, you found yourself reflecting on his words. Maybe it was time to focus on proving yourself here, to rise above the whispers and make your mark in the company. Regardless of how you came to be in this position, you were determined to show them—and yourself—that you were worth it.

—

Ever since that day, when you arrived at the office, the halls were silent, and no one stared at you and Jaehyun as you walked side by side.. The building buzzed along like usual. You were relieved. Your shoulders felt lighter in the absence of judgmental glances, and instinctively, you walked a little straighter, head held high, eyes forward rather than downcast.

As you entered Jaehyun's office, you set your things down at the little desk he had allotted for you, diving into your daily routine of answering emails and organizing his meetings. You found your rhythm quickly, the morning shift feeling productive as you ticked off tasks. The sound of your typing filled the room, creating a comforting background noise.

Halfway through the shift, you stretched your arms overhead, stifling a yawn. Out of curiosity, you peeked over at Jaehyun to see how he was faring. He had leaned back in his chair, his neatly combed hair falling over his closed eyes, looking surprisingly peaceful in the soft glow of sunlight streaming in through the window. The light danced around him, illuminating his desk, and for a moment, you couldn't help but admire how beautiful he looked.

Even after a month of working together, you still didn't know much about Jaehyun's personal life. You had gone over the basics: he lived alone, was single, and kept his family life largely private. Each interaction left you with more questions than answers, and you found yourself scratching your head at the blank spaces in your understanding of him.

You assumed that the high-ranking position had simply been handed down to him—a legacy passed through generations. But you had never heard any whispers about a preceding CEO or what led Jaehyun to take the helm.

Amidst the riddles, the only one you had solved was his coffee order: a no-foam skimmed latte with an extra shot, plus three drip coffees with room for milk. It was a peculiar detail to cling to, yet it felt like a small piece of Jaehyun you could call your own, a little insight he had unknowingly shared during your numerous morning coffee runs.

Your thoughts whirled as you watched him sleep, a wave of warmth washing over you. It was strange how quickly you had grown accustomed to his presence and how much you found yourself wanting to know about the man behind the polished façade. What did he do on weekends? What made him laugh? What were his dreams and aspirations beyond this office?

Suddenly, he’s awake and staring back at you, and you stop smiling, turning to busy yourself. You clear your throat. “You have a meeting at 3 PM,” you mention, making an excuse.

“Thank you,” he responds.

He yawns and cracks his neck before standing from his desk. “We should go grab something to eat before then.”

You don't expect him to take you halfway across town; normally, you just grab him something from the cafe down the street. A bit apprehensive, you worry about making it back on time with the traffic ahead.

Silence engulfs the car as it inches through the congestion. Jaehyun sits relaxed in his seat, his thumb tapping a rhythm against the steering wheel as he looks ahead. You decide to kill the time with some conversation.

“How do you manage living in that large house all by yourself?” you ask, trying to chip away at the silence.

Jaehyun shifts in his seat. “You get used to it, I suppose. It’s peaceful. Quiet.”

“Yeah, but don’t you ever feel lonely? I mean, it’s a huge place. I can’t imagine wandering through all those empty rooms.”

He pauses, eyes still on the road. “Loneliness is…relative. I find solace in my work. It distracts me.”

“But work can only fill so much, right? Everybody needs someone sometimes.”

“Not everyone has someone to lean on, A. Sometimes it’s easier to just…keep to yourself.” Jaehyun looks over.

“I get that. I guess I’ve been on my own for a while too. Never really had a stable family or anything. Just me and the streets.”

“So, what was it like? Living like that?” Jaehyun asks curiously.

“It was tough. You learn to be resourceful and to adapt. But it also gets exhausting.”

You had a rough upbringing; your parents were neglectful, and as soon as you turned 18, they kicked you out. You turned to the streets to get by, making connections with a few questionable figures, but they taught you what you needed to survive. Soon, you were taking care of yourself and hanging out with better crowds.

“Why don’t you talk about your family or friends? It feels like you’ve built up walls—like you’re living in that house, but you’re not really there,” you ask.

Jaehyun takes a deep breath, carefully choosing his words. “It’s complicated. I’ve lost people—friends, family… When you start at the top, it’s hard to trust anyone. Everyone has their own agenda.”

You wince slightly at his words; of course he didn’t open up to you. Trust issues are understandable, especially after you tried to rob him.

“Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith and give people a chance. You never know who they might turn out to be,” you suggest gently.

He pauses, letting your words linger in the air, before responding with a nod of acknowledgment. As traffic finally begins to move, you turn to look out the window, watching the world blur by.

Eventually, the car pulls into a cozy little bakery nestled on a side street. The overgrown greenery surrounding it gives the place a charming, almost hidden feel. A LED sign in the window brightens the words “Doughyoungs.” Stepping inside, a small bell chimes, and the delectable aroma of freshly baked bread wraps around you like a warm hug. Your mouth waters as you glance around.

The bakery is empty, but it exudes warmth and invites you further in. The display case is filled with tempting treats: crusty artisan breads, flaky croissants, colorful macarons, decadent cakes, and an assortment of cookies. Your heart feels lighter in this space; it seems like a hidden gem, the kind of place that just might feel like home.

“BE RIGHT WITH YOU!” a voice calls from the back of the shop. A tall man in a flour-dusted apron steps into the front room, wiping his hands on the fabric, a broad smile spreading across his face.

“Oh, Jaehyun! It’s been a while!” He steps closer, his tone filled with a sense of familiarity. “You brought a friend?”

You glance at the man’s name tag—Doyoung. It clicks; he must be the owner of the bakery.

“Yeah, this is my secretary, Y/N,” Jaehyun introduces, gesturing toward you. “And Y/N, this is Doyoung. He’s a good friend of mine.”

“His only friend,” Doyoung corrects with a playful wink before extending his hand toward you. “Nice to meet you!”

The three of you settle down at a small, round table in the corner of “Doughyoung’s,” sunlight streaming through the window and illuminating the inviting atmosphere. A warm plate of croissants sits in the center of the table as Doyoung pours steaming cups of coffee for you and Jaehyun.

You reach for a flaky croissant, the buttery aroma enveloping you. You’ve just met Doyoung, but your instant fondness for him grows as he recounts hilarious stories about Jaehyun, leaving you wiping a tear from the corner of your eye at one particularly embarrassing tale.

“How long have you two been friends?” you ask, still chuckling.

“We go way back to college,” Doyoung replies, a reminiscent smile on his face. “We were both fresh out of high school, and honestly, we couldn’t have been more different. He was this focused, ambitious guy trying to conquer the world, while I was just… well, trying to figure things out.”

You nod, picturing the difference between the two of them. “What about you?” Doyoung adds, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “How did you manage to land such a serious guy as your boss?”

You stuff your mouth with croissants, desperately trying to think of an answer that isn’t a lie.

“Sorry to cut story time short, but I have a meeting at 3,” he says, finishing his coffee and rising to push in his chair. You follow suit, a little relieved that your escape has come so soon. Doyoung was kind and you couldn't bring yourself to lie to him, but you couldn't exactly tell him you had attempted to rob his best friend.

“It was really nice to meet you, Doyoung,” you wave goodbye, offering a genuine smile as you shuffle out after Jaehyun.

Doyoung smiles and waves as you leave, his infectious energy lingering in the air. The drive back is quiet, but this time, the silence feels different—more comfortable. The gentle hum of the engine and the sounds of the outside world fade into the background as you steal glances at Jaehyun, who remains focused on the road ahead.

—

Since you started working with Jaehyun, today was probably the first time that everything seemed to go your way. You even managed to finish your tasks early. As you straighten up your desk, gathering papers and tidying the space, you’re on your way out when he walks in, his expression curious.

“You’re leaving?” he asks, making his way toward his own desk.

“Yeah, I finished up early,” you reply, grabbing your bag. “I was just going to catch the bus home.”

He nods, pausing for a moment. “Did you organize that pile of paperwork I gave you?”

“All organized and labeled,” you confirm, a sense of pride swelling in your chest.

“What about that email I sent you to look over? Did you make sure everything was in order for that conference?”

“Done and scheduled,” you say, feeling accomplished.

Jaehyun looks like he wants to say something more, as if he’s searching for another reason to keep you there. “Well, if you’re finished, we can head out together,” he suggests, beginning to pack his briefcase.

“Are you sure?” you ask, a hint of hesitation in your voice. “If there’s something you need to finish up here, I don’t want to hold you back.”

“I can finish it at home,” he replies, already standing and heading toward the door.

You share a brief glance, and there’s something in his demeanor that tells you he genuinely wants your company. You can’t help but smile as you follow him outside.

When you get back to Jaehyun's house, you expect him to finally let you off the hook, but instead, he keeps you around a little longer. He finds minuscule tasks for you to do while he works in his study—organizing his files, dusting the bookshelf, separating his pens by color—anything to keep you in his office with him.

“Jaehyun,” you yawn, stretching your arms overhead. “I’ve done everything! I’ve even organized your books by the Dewey Decimal System. I think it’s time for me to head home.” You really don’t mind Jaehyun’s company at all; in fact, you enjoy being around him. Plus, every task you handle for him counts toward the debt you owe, but it’s getting late, and the last thing you want is for him to fuss about you driving home in the dark.

He glances around the room, searching for another task to assign you, but all he finds is a sigh of resignation. “Are you sure you don’t want to just stay over?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned. “There are plenty of rooms for you. It’s getting late, and you seem really tired. I don’t want you to fall asleep at the wheel.” He closes his laptop, giving you his full attention.

You think it over. Spending a night in his mansion feels like the opportunity of a lifetime. Staying here is akin to a luxury hotel experience. You weigh the pros and cons in your mind, but then a concern arises. “I don’t have any extra clothes,” you say.

“You can wear mine,” Jaehyun offers, and your face heats up at the prospect of slipping into one of his shirts—an oversized garment that would probably swallow you whole.

“I guess that would save me the commute of having to drive back over here in the morning.”

You can’t help but smile back, finding his stubbornness endearing. It’s moments like these that make you realize he might be holding onto you not out of obligation but rather because he enjoys your company. After all, he’s been doing everything in his power to keep you around, perhaps because he is alone most of the time. You’d probably become the closest person to him after Doyoung.

"Well, if that's all, I'm going to go get in the shower,” you say.

“Ill meet you upstairs, I just want to finish this up,” he says

You head upstairs, navigating your way to Jaehyun's room with an ease that comes from having spent so much time in his space. You step into the bathroom connected to his room and turn on the shower, relishing the luxurious feel of the gold dual heads—it’s almost like being in a spa.

As the warm water envelops you, the stresses of the day wash away. The towels are fresh and warm as you step out, feeling utterly pampered. You can't help but marvel at the abundance of skincare products lined up on the counter, likely a key contributor to Jaehyun's flawless complexion. After cleansing your face and brushing your teeth with an unopened toothbrush you found in his bathroom pantry.

Peeking your head out of the bathroom door, you confirm that the coast is clear. With nothing but your towel wrapped around you, you make your way toward his closet. As you rummage through his clothes, memories flood back to the first time you were here—a completely different feeling, one of nerves and uncertainty. Little did you know that you’d be invited back as a guest, spending the night in his company.

Finally, you find a large shirt that looks incredibly comfortable and toss it over your head. Pairing it with some pajama pants that are a bit loose around your hips, you tie them with the strings, feeling cozy and at ease.

With a determined smile, you head back downstairs, wanting to say goodnight to Jaehyun. As you enter his study, though, you find him fast asleep, his head resting on a pile of documents. His hair is pushed back by a pair of glasses you haven't seen before, and you can't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes. You never realized how taxing it must be for him to carry the weight of the company on his shoulders.

Gently, you shake him awake. “Jaehyun, come on, let’s go to sleep,” you whisper softly.

His eyes open slowly, taking a moment to adjust as he rubs them and slides his glasses back on. Confusion flits across his face before recognition sets in, and he begins to put his things away, a little disorientedly, but it makes you chuckle lightly.

You watch him for a moment, your heart swelling with fondness. You wish you could do something to help him relax—an idea pops into your mind. “I’ll meet you upstairs, okay?” you say before darting back up the stairs.

You run a warm bath; you make sure to adjust the water to just the right temperature. Bubbles foam up and you lay out his clothes neatly on the counter—a clean, comfy t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, paired with some fresh socks. The soft tune playing from a speaker fills the air, adding to the calming ambiance.

You hear the heavy footsteps of Jaehyun making their way up the stairs, and you work quickly, eager to ensure everything is perfect for him. When the door finally opens, he lumbers into the room, flopping onto the bed still clad in his work clothes.

“Come on, I ran you a bath,” you coax, gently taking off his glasses and tugging him up from the bed. His eyes are still closed, but he doesn’t resist, letting you guide him toward the bathroom.

“Your clothes are right here,” you say, pointing out the set you prepared for him. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

As you start to step away, eager to give him some privacy, he unexpectedly grabs your wrist. His grip is gentle yet firm, and he turns you back to face him. The air is thick with tension as he pushes you up against the sink.

“Help me undress,” he says sleepily, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes—a sight that makes your heart race. You’re practically chest to chest, and the proximity sends a rush of warmth to your cheeks.

Your face heats up and you find yourself a stuttering mess. Jaehyun seems to realize what his words imply “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying,” he fumbles, suddenly a little more awake. “Excuse me, I’m just really tired.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you reassure him quickly, your cheeks ablaze. “I want to help you relax. I can do that.”

He looks down at you, and you briefly meet his gaze before you shyly avert your eyes. As your hands shake, you manage to unbutton his shirt one by one, the fabric parting to reveal flawless skin beneath. He stands there, shirt completely undone, his gaze holding a mixture of curiosity and something deeper. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, and you find yourself captivated by his happy trail, your knees feeling weak beneath you. Jaehyun’s hands gracefully move to his belt, taking charge of the moment. You watch, entranced, as he slowly removes it, each movement deliberate and inviting. Your heart races in your chest, a frantic drumbeat that drowns out the soft music still playing in the background. You could practically feel the air thickening between you—a magnetic pull that makes you want to fall to your knees for him—to surrender.

His belt clatters to the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet bathroom, but then a hand catches under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. You’re drawn into the depths of his eyes, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating off him. “I’ve got it from here, thank you,” he says, his voice low and confident.

Reality crashes over you like a wave, pulling you back with a jolt. You process the situation: Jaehyun standing before you, his pants hanging loosely around his waist, his shirt sliding from his shoulders. Heat floods your cheeks.

In a rush, you scramble out of the bathroom, the words tumbling from your lips in a hurried mess. “R—right, I’ll be in the room across the hall. Good night, Jaehyun!” You don’t dare look back, your heart racing as you leave the bathroom, and you swear you hear a deep chuckle escape him, warm and teasing.

You slip into the bedroom across the hall, the plush bed feeling foreign and oddly comforting at the same time. You let out a heavy sigh, shaking off the feelings that swirled between you two.

The silence of the house wraps around you. It’s an odd comfort, yet it amplifies the sense of isolation that looms over you. You stare at the clock on the nightstand, ticking slowly towards the early hours of the morning. You toss and turn under the covers, unable to settle. Thoughts of Jaehyun haunt you—thoughts of the way he looked, the way he made you feel—the anticipation, the nervousness. You cover your face with the pillow in an attempt to silence your racing thoughts.

Suddenly, a soft but loud crash reverberates through the house, breaking the stillness. You sit upright, heart pounding in your chest. A sense of dread settles in as you carve your way through the shadows, crossing the hall to Jaehyun’s room.

“Jaehyun?” You call softly, knocking gently on the door, but it creaks open at your touch, revealing a scene that makes your breath hitch. Jaehyun is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking disheveled; his face pales from what you can only assume was a nightmare. There’s sweat glistening on his forehead, and you can see the stark tension in his shoulders.

“Hey, what happened?” You take a step in, closing the door behind you.

He runs a shaky hand through his hair. “I just—I had a nightmare. It’s nothing.” He waves you off, but you can see the unsteadiness in his demeanor.

“No, it’s not nothing,” you assert, walking closer. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You can talk to me.”

His eyes meet yours—a fleeting vulnerability. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” you say softly.

“I dreamed about… losing my family. It’s a nightmare I’ve had more times than I can count.” He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and you can see the pain that runs deep.

You quietly urge him on, your heart thrumming within your chest. “What happened?”

He swallows hard before continuing. “I used to live here, in this house, with my family. It was our summar home. Life was chaotic but… it was fun. My parents were always busy with the company, but they made time for us. Then…it just all fell apart.”

You can hear the tremor in his voice, the unsteady strength behind each word. “There was an accident,” he finally admits, his brow furrowing as if the very thought is a wound that never heals. “A car crash that took them away from me in an instant. I inherited everything. This houses the company and the money. Sometimes I feel like an imposter, like I’m not good enough for all of this. It helps that there are fewer memories here. Its emptier.”

Your heart aches for him, the stark reality of his loss weighing heavily in the air. “I’m so sorry, Jaehyun,” you whisper, feeling a surge of compassion for the boy he once was. You couldn't imagine how alone he felt. The weight of an entire company thrust upon him at such a young age. You understand why he found it hard to let people in.

“It’s been years,” he continues, “but every now and then, I wake up in a cold sweat, feeling their absence like it was yesterday. Sometimes Its so bad I won't sleep at all.”

You step closer and sit beside him on the bed, your heart aching to comfort him. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself. It’s okay to talk about it. It’s okay to feel. You deserve to express that pain instead of bottling it up.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of your own past pressing against your chest. It feels only right to share your truth with Jaehyun now that he’s opened up about his own pain. “I get it, you know—feeling like you’re not enough. I felt that way growing up too,” you begin, your voice steady yet soft as you look into his eyes. “I didn’t have the stability of a family like yours. My parents were often absent, lost in their own world, and I was left to navigate everything on my own. I longed for connection.”

You pause, letting your words sink in. A part of you feels apprehensive, but telling your story also feels liberating. “I did meet some friends along the way. They were a bit snobby, but I loved them. They were everything I wanted to be—popular, carefree, surrounded by laughter. I wanted to fit in so badly that I was willing to do just about anything to be part of their world.”

Jaehyun nods, his gaze understanding as he absorbs your story. You take another breath, your heart racing slightly as you reveal more of your past. “I started to steal. Not just to survive, because there were times when I truly needed food, but mostly to impress them. To show them I could be just as cool, just as daring. Those friends were all I had, and I felt like I was grasping at straws. I never wanted to feel alone again.”

As you speak, you can see the pain in Jaehyun's eyes—he understands the need to connect, the lengths people go to feel accepted. “Most of the time, I felt like a fraud. Like I was pretending to be something I’m not. Their world wasn’t mine, but it was better than being alone. I guess in some way, I thought being with them would fill the emptiness, but it never did.”

“I know what it feels like to wear a mask,” he says, his tone gentle yet earnest. “It’s exhausting isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a small but relieved smile creeping onto your face. “But sharing it feels freeing. I think that’s why I wanted to tell you. Seeing you so vulnerable made me realize that maybe it’s okay to let myself be seen, too.”

Jaehyun reaches out, tentatively placing his hand over yours. It’s a small gesture, but it ignites warmth where your hands connect, sending a comforting pulse between you.

But just as the moment deepens, a loud crack of thunder rumbles outside, reverberating through the walls, making the lights flicker. A flash of lightning illuminates Jaehyun’s startled expression, momentarily freezing both of you in place until you’re instinctively drawn closer. A storm rages outside.

“Let’s… let’s just stay like this, okay?” You murmur, catching his gaze before looking down at your joined hands. “Just for tonight.”

He nods slowly, the tension shifting into something more profound. You slide under the covers beside him, and even though there’s a noticeable space between you, his warmth envelops you. The moment sinks into something intimate, something that goes beyond the mere physical closeness or the warmth of shared body heat.

— Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you hesitate before answering an unknown number. But curiosity compels you to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Where have you been?” The voice on the other end drips with annoyance. Taeyong. Just hearing him makes your stomach churn. It's a voice you've been avoiding, one you hoped you'd never have to hear again. It reminds you too much of the past your trying to forget.

You bite your lip, your gaze flickering nervously around the bustling cafeteria. It’s lunchtime, and the air buzzes with chatter as people gather at tables. Jaehyun is tied up in a meeting, leaving you surrounded by a few friends who have become a surprising source of comfort. You've been at the company long enough now that the initial gossip has faded, allowing you to forge genuine connections beyond just your complicated relationship with Jaehyun.

You cover your phone as you pull it down from your ear and mouth a quick sorry to your friends as you make your way somewhere else secluded.

“Sorry, you caught me at a bad time,” you murmur, moving away to a quieter corner.

“A bad time? You've been ghosting us for weeks! We have a big job lined up and need you back,” he says, impatience slicing through his tone.

“I told you, I’m not doing that anymore. I’m in a good place. I can’t mess this up,” you reply, your frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

He scoffs, a sound that irritates you more than it should. “You think you can just bail on us? When we had your back when no one else did?”

His words resonate, stirring unwanted memories. They taught you everything you know about survival.

“Without us, you’d be scraping by,” he adds with a cocky lilt that grates your nerves.

“What do you need me for?” You huff.

“A quick job. In and out. Johnny’s got his eyes on this jewelry store. Thinks it’ll impress some girl he’s crushing on,” he explains, the casual tone in his voice only making you more uneasy.

“A jewelry store? Are you serious? You know that’s risky,” you almost yell before you remember where you are.

“Yeah, well, the guy’s moving across the globe. Apparently, his heart is in Vegas or something. Listen, you owe us. Let’s call this your last job before Johnny bails.” He says.

You pause, weighing your options. You knew how persistent these guys could get and you didn’t need them digging too deep into what you’ve been up to. If they found out about Jaehyun, your not sure what they would scheme.

“If I do this, you lose my number. Don’t ever contact me again. I appreciate everything you guys did for me, but I’m trying to move on.” Your voice is firm.

“Great to have you back, princess. I’ll send over the details,” he says before hanging up.

Your hands were shaking and you could feel your throat close up as tears began to well in your eyes. You wanted to cry. You lean against a wall, trying to calm your breathing.

You could always ask Jaehyun for the money; whatever Johnny was looking to score from the jewelry store, Jaehyun could match it; the only issue is you already owe him enough and Taeyong would definitely ask you where you got such a large sum of money.

You could not get Jaehyun involved. You didn't want him mixed up in any of this. This was your problem, your past, that you had to fix.

You tilt your head back, trying to will the tears away. If Jaehyun found out—Jaehyun couldn't find out.

You try to act normal when you head back up to Jaehyun's office. You bury yourself in paperwork and emails as an excuse for how unnaturally quiet you were today. You couldn't avoid him all day, though.

“How was lunch” he asks after returning from his meeting.

You don't turn to acknowledge him; instead, you give him a “it was good” before returning to your work. He doesn't comment on how quiet you have been but you definitely see it in his eyes that he wants to. He walks to his desk without another word. He knows when to give you space and probably figured now was one of those times.

—

You were making mistakes again. The chaos of the office felt louder than ever as you stumbled through the busy halls, your arms full of files that seemed to have a mind of their own. Papers slipped from your grasp, fluttering to the ground like fallen leaves as you scrambled to collect them, heart racing as you barely managed to avoid having someone step on the important documents.

The printer was your sworn enemy today; it jammed at the worst possible moment, leaving you flustered and anxiously trying to free the stuck sheets while praying no one noticed your struggle. You were constantly tripping over your own feet, rushing back and forth, trying to juggle tasks that felt increasingly overwhelming.

Jaehyun's eyes lingered on you longer than usual, suspicion bubbling just beneath the surface. He could let a few things slide, but it was clear he was picking up on the fact that something wasn’t right.

Finally, you excused yourself, heart pounding as you left for the bathroom. Clutching your phone tightly, it buzzed with a message that made your stomach drop. You glanced down and read:

[Meet us at xxx on Sunday at 3 AM].

This was it—tonight would be the night.

You quickly composed a response, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed. As you headed back to the office, you tried to shake off the brewing anxiety. With every step, you reminded yourself that soon, after tonight, you wouldn’t have to hide anything else from Jaehyun. After tonight, everything could go back to normal.

You had packed a small duffel bag. Its contents reminded you of the significance of the night ahead. Dressed in all black, you made your way to Taeyong's place, the night air cool against your skin. As you arrived, the tension in your stomach twisted tighter when you saw Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta waiting for you.

“Hey.” you greeted, trying to sound more confident than you felt. You joined them, your heartbeat thumping in your ears as you went over the plan, going through every detail. The stakes were high; robbing businesses was far more complex than the petty house break-ins of the past. There was far more security to navigate this time, and your palms began to sweat at the thought of what would happen if you got caught.

“Stop overthinking it,” Johnny said, flashing you a reassuring smile as he finished loading the last item into the car. “It’s gonna be just like old times.”

You rolled your eyes. “This is the last time,” you declared, shooting a look at the back of Taeyong's head as he settled into the driver’s seat but you couldn’t stop the thrill that snuck into your heart. There was a small part of you that loved this thrill, loved the challenge that the night would bring

Johnny slid into the passenger seat, and Yuta hopped in beside you in the back. “I understand if you don’t want to steal, but we’re still family,” Yuta said, his voice calm and steady. “Don’t forget that, no matter what happens.

Your heart clenches painfully in your chest, a storm of emotions battling within you. You knew you were being cold towards them, shutting off parts of yourself that had always been open to them. They were your everything before Jaehyun came into your life, your partners in crime and laughter, and now you felt sickness coil in your stomach at the thought of discarding them for something that might not even last.

You bit back tears, feeling the sharp sting of regret and longing. One part of you mourned the life you were desperately trying to hold onto—the stability, the calm, everything that came with Jaehyun. The other half grieved for the carefree moments you’d shared with Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta and for the friendships that felt more like family than anything else.

“I’m going to miss you guys,” you finally managed to say, your voice wavering as you fought to steady it. “Let this be it for all of us.” Your words hung in the air.

“Y/N…” Yuta began, an understanding between all of you that couldn’t be voiced.

“Please,” you interrupted softly, desperation coloring your tone as you looked from one familiar face to the other. “I don’t want anything happening to you guys.”

Silence settled in the car. No one answered you; there were no reassurances to offer, no words that could change the precarious situation you were all in. They couldn’t up and leave this life and you knew it.

As Taeyong turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbled to life, breaking the stillness. You glanced out the window, taking in the familiar streets you had navigated countless times, the memories flooding back.

—

The blaring alarms pierced the night like a siren's wail as you moved to grab one more bag full of jewelry. Every clang of metal against metal made your stomach churn. Your hands were shaking, and as you tossed another bag over to Yuta, you felt a sense of disgust washing over you. How had it come to this? You stuffed your feelings deep down and concentrated on the task at hand—the only thing you could control. Yuta caught the bag and hurried it to the car, urgency fueling every movement.

Then came the wailing of sirens that sent a jolt of panic through your body. The familiar blue and red lights flickered on the walls of the alley as they crept closer, and your heart raced faster.

“Out now! GO!” Taeyong shouted, urgency slicing through the chaos. You hurled yourself into the car just as the engine roared to life, Taeyong hitting the gas pedal with a force that slammed you back against the seat. Your head twisted around, searching for any sign of the approaching police cars. Relief washed over you when you didn’t see their flashing lights right behind you—yet.

Then, terror gripped you as a police car roared around the corner, lights ablaze, barreling towards you.

“We’re not going to make it!” You cried out, panic rising in your chest like bile.

“Shut up! Let me think!” Taeyong snapped back, his voice sharp and focused.

With skill, he made a sharp left turn and then another, weaving through the streets as your heart thundered in your ears. The fear began to lift, the thrill of escape practically intoxicating, until the dreaded sight of the police car revealed itself again, like a predator stalking prey.

He maneuvered the car swiftly into a dark alleyway, the bright streetlights fading behind you, swallowed by the inky shadows of the narrow passage.

“Get out!” Taeyong shouted suddenly, and you whipped your head around to look at him, wide-eyed, disbelief painted across your face.

“Are you crazy?” you exclaimed, your pulse racing even faster. The alleyway loomed dark and empty beyond the car.

“What are you—” Yuta started to say, confusion evident in his voice.

“I’ll lead them away; just go!” Taeyong insisted, urgency etched deep into his words. “We don’t have time!”

You knew if he was caught, he would never snitch—Taeyong was loyal, he would take the fall for you without a second thought. But the prospect of him behind bars was more upsetting than you'd ever anticipated.

“That wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” you murmured, helpless, as Johnny dragged you along through the darkness. You struggled to comprehend what was happening through the haze of tears obscuring your vision. Out of instinct, you pulled off your mask and dark jacket, tossing them into a nearby trash bin.

With your heads down, you walked in silence, the distant sirens haunting the air. It wasn’t long until Kun, Yuta’s friend, pulled up to a nearby park to pick you all up.

You didn't go home that night. Instead, you ended up at Chenle's place. He didn’t ask any questions when he saw your tear-stained cheeks; he simply pulled you inside and set about making some tea to soothe your frayed nerves. Chenle was always the one who understood you the most.

Tonight, the weight of secrets felt heavier than ever. You couldn’t keep it all inside any longer. As you sank onto his couch, the dam broke, and you began to tell Chenle everything—from the very beginning to the events of the night. Sobs wracked your body as you relayed the tale, the guilt and shame spilling out with each word.

You were a liar, a thief, a fake.

Chenle sat in silence for a moment, absorbing your confession. He let out a heavy sigh and rose from his seat, your teary eyes tracking him as he rummaged through his cupboard.

“We’re gonna need something stronger than tea tonight,” he said, pouring you a shot.

—

When you wake up the next day, a piercing headache pounds through your skull. You had fallen asleep on Chenle’s couch. Blinking against the sunlight filtering in, you glance around the large living space and spot Chenle sprawled on the other end of the couch, still blissfully asleep.

Rummaging around the couch cushions, your fingers finally brush against your phone. You remember that you powered it down last night, a decision made during the chaos of emotions. You turn it back on, the screen lighting up and revealing a barrage of messages.

YUTA [taeyong got away last night] [Just keep your head down and we should be fine]

JOHNNY [TY PULLED THROUGH LET'S GO!]

You can’t help but roll your eyes at that. “Selfish bastard.” you think, feeling a stir of resentment alongside the relief.

JAEHYUN [are you coming into work today?] [are you hurt?] [if your sick i can bring you something] [call me when you can]

You wince at the notification count—Jaehyun had called you at least five times this morning

Just then, Daegal, Chenle’s dog, leaps onto the couch, nudging your leg. Chenle stirs awake, cracking an eye open, squinting against the bright light that seeps into the living room.

“Taeyong was able to get away somehow,” you inform him quietly.

“Don’t know whether I should be happy or upset about that,” he replies, his voice still thick with sleep.

“I’m sorry about lying, and I’m sorry for bothering you, but this was the only place I knew to come.” You let out a heavy sigh, tossing your phone down on the coffee table.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m not upset that you lied,” Chenle says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I understand what you were going through, and if that’s how you made ends meet, I won’t judge you for it.” He stretches and yawns, then narrows his eyes playfully at you. “What I am mad about is the fact that you’ve been seeing a hot CEO and didn’t tell me about it!”

A weight lifts off your shoulders at his playful reprimand. At least you wouldn’t lose your best friend. You crawl toward him on the couch and envelop him in a warm hug. “I love you,” you smother him with affection.

You sit across the table from Chenle, a steaming plate of breakfast in front of you. As you tell him everything about your relationship with Jaehyun—the sweet moments, the little things that made you blush—it feels like a breath of fresh air. It takes you back to those late-night gossip sessions in high school, a sense of comfort washing over you. For that brief moment, you felt like yourself again, like the world around you wasn't being held together by a single string.

But soon reality creeps back in. You check the time and realize you can’t put off Jaehyun's calls any longer.

[im ok]

[where have you been?]

[Can we meet?]

[i can meet you at home]

Your heart clenches at the word ‘home.’ You aren’t sure when you two became this close, but the thought of lying to Jaehyun anymore feels unbearable.

As you approach the house, a heavy silence envelops you. It’s eerily quiet; the only sound is the faint shuffle of papers filtering in from Jaehyun’s study. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation ahead.

You clear your throat, your voice slightly shaky. “Hey,” you announce, trying to keep your tone steady.

Jaehyun looks up, his expression distant and unreadable. “Where have you been?” he asks, setting aside the documents that had consumed his attention. Frustration flickers across his face as he stands and closes the distance between you. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, the muscles evident even beneath the wrinkled fabric of his work clothes, a testament to the long day he’s had.

He leans back slightly against his desk, exuding a mix of authority and weariness. His glasses sit low on the bridge of his nose, casting a shadow over his eyes and intensifying his gaze as he studies you, waiting for an answer that feels heavy in the air

“I was at a friend’s,” you reply, your words catching slightly in your throat.

“Why weren’t you answering my calls? What’s been going on with you lately?” His voice is firm, perhaps too firm, sounding too much like your boss, and you can feel your irritation simmer.

“It won’t happen again. I’ve just been taking care of some business,” you mumble, but it feels inadequate.

“You need to let me know if you’re not going to show up!” he says, and you can see the frustration etching lines across his forehead. But beneath that, there’s something else—something more worried.

“Is this all I am to you? Just another one of your employees you have to keep track of,” you challenge, the heat of your annoyance flaring. “I’m sorry I didn’t show up to work, Mr. Jung!” You spit his name like it’s a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Don't do that. I was worried about you!” He snaps back, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and concern.

“I just needed some time!” You fire back, defending yourself but feeling the weight of his gaze.

“Time for what? I’ve been giving you time! Time to text, time to leave, time to make calls to whoever it is you’ve been talking to,” he replies, the edge in his voice sharpening with jealousy.

“Why do you even care who I talk to?”

His lips are on yours in an instant and he kisses you for the first time. You can feel his anger, frustration, and annoyance at you through the way he kisses you. It was as though the heavens had opened and a lightning strike had struck you, igniting every nerve ending in your body. The kiss was electrifying, sending waves of warmth cascading down your spine, and you felt as if your lips were two magnets with an irresistible force drawing them together. The kiss is harsh, and your teeth clink together as you kiss him back with just as much heat. Everything that had been boiling within you—the frustration, fear, and anxiety—pours out as you let it all go. Your fingers pull at his hair, and you bite at his lips. His hands grip your hips roughly, like he's barely holding himself back from breaking you. He pulls you against him, and you can feel him hard through his slacks.

The tension in the room was high, and when it snapped, it was like the barriers that you both worked hard to keep up around each other had fallen.

He switches positions with you, pushing you up against his desk as he kisses down your neck. You have half the mind to be mindful of the things that litter his desk, trying not to knock anything over as his hands explore your body. He senses your hesitation and clears his desk with a swipe of his arm, not breaking the kiss in his haste. You moan into his mouth as he lays you down flat against his desk.

“Who have you been texting?” he asks, his chest heaving. You knew it must have been eating him up over the past few days.

“It was no one. I’ll explain later, just don’t stop,” you whine and pull him back to your lips.

Your fingers start working at the pesky buttons of his shirt. You try to work them one by one, but only get half way before you give up. You slide the fabric half way down his shoulders.

You run your hands down his back, savoring the feel of his skin beneath your palms. His hands move to your shirt, pulling it over your head with ease. His lips trail kisses down your collarbone, causing you to arch your back involuntarily. He pulls your bra open, the fabric falling away to reveal your breasts. His mouth descends on one nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive nub as his hand cups the other breast, squeezing gently. His tongue circles your nipple, teasing and tormenting until you’re practically begging for release. His hand slides lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your sweats. His thick fingers pinch and tug at your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that elicit moans from your lips. You’re soaking wet, and it’s not hard for him to slip his fingers inside your tight pussy.

Your eyes meet his, and his pupils are dilated, like he’s lost in pleasing you. His fingers pump into you at a steady pace, and your thighs spread wide for him, giving him complete access to you. His hand presses against your abdomen as he curls his fingers inside you. He wants you to feel it.

“Say you’re mine,” he commands. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” your voice trembles, and you can feel your stomach clench with how close you are. Your back arches as you squirm under his ministrations. He leans down and attaches his mouth to your clit as he fingers you, and that’s all you need before you’re cumming all over his fingers. He continues to suck and lick at you until you’re pushing at his head to stop.

Once you have caught your breath, you pull your clothes back on as a heavy silence engulfs the room. You know you need to tell him the truth. You need to tell him what happened.

“I robbed a jewelry store.” You say as he helps you down from his desk.

He freezes, eyes widening in disbelief. “You did what?”

“There’s nothing to worry about! It’s over, okay? I just didn’t want to lie to you anymore,” you say defensively.

“Are you serious? What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t want to drag you into this! It was my past that got me here. I can’t rely on you to fix everything for me,” you explain.

“But you were the one who taught me not to bear it all alone!” he counters, hurt flashing in his eyes.

“Not this Jae, I couldn't drag you into this. I care about you way too much”

“And you think I don’t care about you? You throw yourself into trouble like it’s nothing, and you want me to just forget it? Tell me what really happened.” His gaze is piercing, demanding honesty.

You tell him everything.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “I didn’t want our lives to cross paths like this. I thought I could leave that stuff behind but they kept reaching out. It was just one last job, and I thought I could handle it.”

“You should have told me. I could have helped,” he says, brow crinkling in frustration.

“I was scared,” you admit, stepping closer to him. “Scared that getting you involved would get you hurt.”

Jaehyun sighs deeply, processing what you’ve just shared. “No more secrets, okay? You need to promise me that.”

—

The way your life had fallen into rhythm with Jaehyuns was scary; you couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when this arrangement finally came to an end. You found yourself practically living in his home, spending almost every day together. You cherished the moments you shared working side by side. Each laugh, each quiet evening, felt like a treasure you never wanted to lose. Still, you understood that, like everything else, even the best things must eventually come to an end. You just hoped that day would remain far off.

Unfortunately, today was that day. After the countless hours you’d spent with Jaehyun, both on and off the clock, you had officially repaid your debt. Of course, your coworkers gathered around the dinner table at the prestigious restaurant had no idea. They believed you were simply celebrating your one-year anniversary. You forced a smile; would they still see it as a celebration if they knew the full story behind your relationship with Jaehyun?

The atmosphere in the restaurant was a blur of laughter, clinking glasses, and the delicious aroma of carefully prepared dishes. As the celebrations for your one-year anniversary at the company unfolded around you, a wave of anxiety gnawed at your insides. You had worked hard for this moment, but all you could think about was what came next. You glanced down the table, where Jaehyun sat, a warm smile plastered on his face as he engaged in conversation with your coworkers, but he hadn’t looked your way once.

It was a stark contrast to the intimacy that you two shared. He didn’t bring up that night. He didn't bring up how he made you promise that you were his. For awhile, you thought you had just imagined it all but you could feel the shift in your dynamic. His touches lingering a little longer and the way his eyes wandered to you when he thought you weren't looking.

You find yourself looking back on your relationship with Jaehyun. Surprisingly, Jaehyun wasn’t the cold, distant person you first encountered; now, he trailed after you like a loyal puppy, and there was something sweetly comforting in the role reversal. You remembered how he had seemed so vast and imposing on your first day at the company, while you had followed him around like a lost puppy trying to match his stride. Now, as you walked through the hallways with your head held high, Jaehyun was the one keeping pace behind you, as if he feared losing you.

But as you looked at him now, across the expanse of the table, he felt miles away. The realization that the debt you owed him was fully paid loomed over you, casting a shadow that threatened to eclipse the joy of the evening. What would happen after tonight? How would your relationship change? You couldn’t shake the nagging fear that everything you had built together might soon unravel.

The cake arrived, beautifully adorned and lit with candles, drawing enthusiastic cheers from your coworkers. Jaehyun raised a glass to toast the moment, and when he glanced around, his eyes skated over you without recognition. You blinked, a pang of hurt lacing through you as the reality of it all settled in.

After the dinner wound down and laughter faded into the background, Jaehyun drove you back home—well, to his house. The silence hung between you like a tightrope, and it was nearly suffocating. Once inside the house, the familiar warmth enveloped you.

Finally, unable to contain your feelings, you broke the silence. “Jaehyun,” you started, your voice trembling slightly. “Why have you been so quiet tonight?”

He paused, fingers brushing through his hair as he leaned against the kitchen counter. The flickering light above cast shadows across his face, making it difficult to read his expression. “I—” he hesitated, eyes dropping to the floor, “I know your probably getting ready to leave since the debt is paid and I guess I was just preparing myself for that”

Your heart raced. “Is that why you haven’t brought up that night in your office?”

"I just didn’t want to grow more attached than I already am. I thought if I could pretend that night never happened, it would hurt less when you left.” He takes a deep breath as he searches your face for the right words to say. “I want you to stay with me. I know you’ve paid me back for everything… but I need you to understand that I want you in my life for reasons that go far beyond debt.” He took a breath, as if gathering the courage to continue. “I care about you. More than you know.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Jaehyun. I'm not going anywhere you don’t want me to,” you say, stepping closer to him and cupping his face.

Jaehyun reached up, touching the hand that was caressing his face. “Then let’s stop pretending that all this is just transactional. I want something real.” The sincerity in his gaze melted your worries away, replacing them with something brighter, something full of possibility.

When he leans down to kiss you, your fingers caress his cheeks, memorizing the contours as you breathe in the essence of him. His hands roamed over your hips, exploring with an urgency that both thrilled and comforted you. The way they eventually tangled into your hair was possessive, a silent promise that he wasn't going to let you go.

Your bodies pressed together tightly and with every passing second, the kiss grew hotter, needier, and wetter as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You panted softly, surrendering to him, allowing him to take over completely, losing yourself in him.

As the fervor of the moment intensified, you felt his hands traveling back down to your hips. Before you could process what was happening, you found yourself being lifted off your feet. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, anchoring yourself as he backed you up against a nearby wall. The cool surface contrasted sharply with the heat radiating between your bodies.

The makeout session became heavier and more desperate as passion consumed you both. Each kiss felt like a promise, filled with hunger and longing, as if you were trying to convey everything that words could never fully express. Finally, as your lungs burn for air, you part, a thin string of saliva connecting you.

The way he looked at you suggested a man starved—and that only fueled your desire to explore him further. As his hips rocked against yours, a low moan escaped your lips, the friction backing your toes curl. You welcomed his touch and his kisses but you wanted more. You wanted to take your time, savoring each curve and contour of each other’s bodies.

His face nestled in the crook of your neck, his warm breath sending shivers racing down your spine. A dampness was forming in your panties, an exhilarating rush that clouded your thoughts. Gathering the courage, you gently tapped him on the shoulder, hoping to break the spell that enveloped you both.

He lifted his head, planting soft kisses along your neck, climbing up to press a tender peck against your lips. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes holding a raw sincerity that made you forget the world around you. “Should we stop?” he murmured, his voice low and earnest.

“It’s not that,” you replied, your breath coming in soft gasps as you regained your composure. “I just want to move to the bedroom.”

You expected him to set you down for a moment, but instead a gasp slipped from your lips as he tightened his grip. He effortlessly began to ascend the opulent winding staircase. The walls were adorned with portraits, their painted eyes following your every movement, as if they were witnesses to this unfolding moment. Rich mahogany railings glimmered under the soft light of the chandelier.

You felt like a princess from a fairytale, swept away on a wave of romance and fantasy as he carried you up the staircase. Yet, amidst the enchantment, a small knot of doubt tightened in your chest—a complicated mix of guilt and disbelief. You don’t deserve this, you thought, battling the insistent voice in your head. This isn’t your life.

This dreamlike encounter with Jaehyun, who seemed to embody the very essence of Prince Charming, felt almost too good to be true—like a scene plucked straight from a storybook. The way he held you, the intensity of his gaze, and the atmosphere were intoxicating. But hessitation tugged at you, casting shadows over the light of your fairy tale.

As he gently set you down on the edge of his bed, Jaehyun kneeled before you. He looked up, his deep eyes searching yours as if trying to read the secrets hidden within.

“What’s wrong, pretty?” he asked, his voice a low, soothing murmur that seemed to wrap around you like a protective embrace. His hands enveloped yours, thumb stroking over your skin in a languid, comforting rhythm.

You forced a smile, desperate to maintain the illusion of this fairytale moment, but you knew better than to lie to him. Jaehyun had a way of seeing through your facades, as if he had developed some sixth sense when it came to understanding you. The light in his eyes flickered, a mix of concern and curiosity, as he waited for you to speak.

This was all so surreal—when the world outside seemed so turbulent, here he was, the embodiment of calm and acceptance. But as much as you tried to bask in this moment, the shadows of your past crept in, reminding you of who you once were.

“About that night…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, throat tightening. Sudden shame washed over you like a cold wave. “I can’t help but feel like I don’t deserve all of this.

Jaehyun’s gaze softened, and he leaned in closer, brows furrowing slightly in concern. “Everyone has a past. What matters is who you choose to be now.” he said gently, as if unfurling your tightly wound shame with each word.

“But I’m a thief, Jaehyun… I tried to steal from you. I lied and even robbed a bank” The admission hung in the air.

“I don’t see a thief when I look at you; I see someone who has struggled but is capable of so much more. Someone I care about.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles.

You looked down at him, finally meeting his gaze, and in that moment, you saw a man who would stop time for you if he could, who would pause the world just to shield you from its harshness.

He was your man.

Without a second thought, you leaned in and pulled him into another kiss, the warmth between you igniting once more, filling the room with an undeniable heat. He broke away for just a moment, a playful glint in his eyes, before he gripped your hips and effortlessly lifted you. In one swift motion, he tossed you onto the middle of the soft, inviting bed.

You bounced with a delighted laugh, the sound echoing through the air as you playfully crawled back toward the headboard, an exhilarated sparkle dancing in your eyes.

Jaehyun crawls to you and you tug off your blouse before he reaches you. It was like he couldn't keep his mouth off of you. He kisses the bare skin of your chest and stomach as his hands toy with the button on the dress pants you wore at dinner. He tugs them down your legs until your only left in your bra and panties. When he's done, you push at his shoulder until your able to sit up, stradling him.

You begin undressing him like the time in the bathroom but this time he lets you strip him down until hes in his boxers. You could see him straining against the fabric of his boxers and you whimper. You had to have him in your mouth. He tries to lay you back down, insistant on taking care of you but you shake your head; thats not what you needed right now. You connect your lips and grip him through his boxers. He lets out a slight gasp, and you can feel him twitch in your grasp. His eyes are closed, but you can see the tension in his jaw and the way his hands grip the sheets beneath him. You’ve been thinking about this for a while now, about how you want to unravel him, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left.

“Can I show you what's been on my mind?” You whisper against his lips, your voice low and sultry. “Do you trust me?”

His eyes flutter open and he nods. You slide down until you settle between his legs, your fingers trailing over the fabric of his boxers and you kiss along his chest. Finally, you pull him out of his boxers. His tip is a pretty pink, begging for your attention, and there’s a vein that follows along the base of his cock, pulsing with every heartbeat. You make a mental note to pay extra attention to that. His breath picks up before you can even do anything, and when you finally tear your eyes away from his cock, you see that his cheeks are dusted pink and his ears are red. Even at a time like this, you find him endearing. You smile, but it comes off more sultry than you intend.

You gather spit in your mouth to wet your tongue, savoring the anticipation as you lean in closer. The moment your lips wrap around his tip, he lets out a sharp gasp, his body tensing. You take him into your mouth, feeling the warmth and saltiness of him as you bob your head gently. You circle his tip with your tongue before pulling off to lick him from base to tip, spreading your saliva and making him slip easier into your mouth.

You look up, meeting his gaze as you take him deeper, your throat working around him. Jaehyun’s head is thrown back, his chest heaving as he tries to keep still, but his hips betray him, thrusting slightly into your mouth. You moan around him, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. Each time you pull off, you leave a trail of saliva connecting you, making your next descent even slicker.

“Fuck…hah,” he breathes, his voice rough and strained. “You feel so good.”

“When was the last time someone did this for you?” You ask, your voice muffled around his cock, noticing how sensitive he is.

“I can’t remember,” he groans.

“We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” You say seductively, your eyes locked on his as you take him back into your throat, not holding back as you show him the pleasures he had probably been withholding from himself. You moan around him, pumping him vigorously as you suck on him, making a show of giving him the sloppiest head possible.

He was polite in the beginning; he didn’t push your head or tug your hair, and he didn’t buck his hips. Instead, he gripped the sheets and bit his lip, trying to control himself, trying to be a gentleman. But after he hits the back of your throat a little too roughly and you gag on him, he loses it. The way your throat convulses makes him bury his fingers into your hair, pressing you down until your nose is nuzzling against his happy trail. Tears burn your eyes as you let him drown in his pleasure, your own arousal building in response.

You know your panties are ruined at this point. Your free hand snakes down between your legs, your fingers gliding over your clit, circling the swollen button as he uses your throat. You barely notice the ache in your jaw, too consumed by the sensations coursing through your body. Suddenly, he pulls you off, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild with desperation.

“Lay down,” he commands, his voice gruff and urgent. You don’t even have time to follow his command before he manhandles you onto your back, his hands moving with a mix of urgency and precision. Desire and desperation swirl in his eyes as he practically rips your panties from you, his fingertips grazing your inner thighs as he strips them away. He’s far too impatient to unclip your bra, so he just pushes it up, exposing your breasts to the cool air.

Your back arches into his touch as he attaches his mouth to your nipples, flicking and nibbling at them with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. You moan, your nails scratching down his arms lightly, urging him on. He kisses down to your thighs, leaving a few love bites along the skin there that have your hips twitching for more. Finally, he pulls back, his eyes raking down your body like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Hurry, I need you,” you cry, your voice breaking with urgency, your fingernails digging into his arms.

He shushes you with a kiss, his lips pressing against yours in a brief but intense moment of connection. Then he lines himself up, coating himself in your slick, making sure he’s slick enough to slide right in. Your breath hitches when he presses against your entrance, the head of his cock nudging at your folds. You were definitely feeling how big he was. Not only was he long, but he had a nice girth as well, stretching you in ways that had you clenching your teeth a little at the sensation.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice soothing as he begins to push in. “Let me in.”

You gently press him back, creating a space between your bodies, your eyes drawn to where your bodies connect. You can feel him deep inside you—only a third left before hes in completely and you already felt full. A soft whimper escapes your lips, vulnerability flashing in your gaze as you look up at him, searching for assurance.

“It’s okay, baby. You can take it,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing, sending shivers down your spine.

You stay still, allowing the initial sting to fade, his fingers intertwined with yours, rubbing gentle circles into your skin as a calming gesture. You focus on the warmth of his hand against yours and the tension slowly dissipates. The discomfort begins to melt away, replaced by a delicious ache. You give him a slow nod, a silent agreement, and he takes that as his cue. His hips pull back, and you can’t help but watch, mesmerized, as he slips out—he was so big but still so perfect.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby. Focus,” he urges, his voice a deep rumble that resonates in your core.

You meet his gaze and its so intense you almost shy away. “Thats right baby, im right here”

One of his hands grips the underside of your thigh before pressing it up against your chest. your back arching involuntarily at the delicious rush of pleasure that courses through you. You could feel him in your gut in this position. His eyebrows furrow in concentration as he drills into you again and again. Short, fast thrusts gradually deepen into long, languid strokes that have you pushing at his hips weakly.

“Fuck, Jae… it’s too deep,” you cry out, your thighs trembling.

He pulls out slowly, leaving you empty and momentarily disoriented. “Turn around,” he commands, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. You pout, suddenly regretting opening your big mouth.

Taking a deep breath, you prop yourself up on your hands and knees, glancing over your shoulder at him with a pleading gaze. “I can take it, I promise,” you reassure.

“We’ll see,” he replies, his tone low and teasing, as he leans down to lay a line of soft kisses down your spine.

You shudder at the gesture and just as the last kiss lingers on the small of your back, you feel him slip inside again. This position gives him more control but he isn't as deep as before. You roll your hips back into him, urging him to fuck you as deep as he was before.

But he slows, his thrusts coming to a halt as he watches you move, his gaze dark with pleasure as he just watches you fuck yourself on him. He hums a noise of pleasure. He lets it go on for a little while longer before he is gripping your hips and stilling your movements.

“Let me take care of you”

He pushes the space between your shoulders, urging you down into the softness of the mattress until you're face down, ass up. With one hand gripping your hips, he resumes his thrusts. Picking up a brutal pace and this time you don't fight it. Each thrust strikes with precision, sharp and calculated, as he takes you from behind. His movements are relentless.

A low growl reverberates from deep within him. In an instant, he pulls you up until your back presses against his chest, your body perched in his lap as he continues to drill into you. You tilt your head back against his shoulder, gasping as his hands roam over you. One grips your chest, kneading your breast, while the other slips between your legs to expertly rub your clit. You let out unrestrained moans, the sounds echoing in the room without a care.

Your thighs tremble and you can feel tears prick your eyes as the overwheliming sensation consumes your body. Each thrust, each caress pushes you closer to the edge, and your chest heaves as you squirm in his hold. It was too much.

“I got you. Let it go baby.” he whispers breathily in your ear. His hand that was kneading your breast moves to hook beneath your shoulder, anchoring you down as he thrusts deeper, pulling you back into him as his hips drive into yours.

It isn't long until your an incoherent mess, until finally you collapse against him as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. You moan shamelessly, feeling your heat pulse around him and coating his cock as your release spills out, dripping down his balls. Jaehyun groans, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he holds you in place, burning himself into you over and over again until hes lightheaded.

“Just a little more, baby, please. You can take it, yeah?” Jaehyun's voice wavers slightly, the raw need evident as he edges closer to his release. The urgency in his tone drives you wild. With a few more deep thrusts, he finally reaches his peak, filling you with thick, hot strands of cum. You shudder in his grasp, a wave of pleasure washing over you as he exhales harshly, breaths mingled with soft curses. “Fuck… mmmh… fuck,” he murmurs.

Jaehyun breathes as he slowly tries to catch his breath. You both take a few moments to come down from your high. His grip loosens at last, and with a gentle touch, he pulls out, laying you delicately on the mattress. You sink into the sheets, breathing heavily as he gets up to run a bath.

A few moments later, he returns, scooping you up in his strong arms. Together, you step into the warm water, which soothes your tired muscles instantly. You sit in front of him, letting the warmth encapsulate you as he takes on the role of caretaker, washing your back caringly.

He massages your shoulders, and you let out a content sigh, a sound that embodies the perfect blend of exhaustion and bliss. The water laps around you, and you feel a sense of tranquility settle in, wrapping around you just as warmly as his hands.

After you both wash up, you're enveloped in a comfortable silence. You were too tired to talk anyway. You lean back against him, feeling his fingers play in your hair. Eventually, when you finally muster the energy to pull yourselves from the bath, he wraps you both in warm towels. You don’t even bother with clothes, opting instead to pad back toward the bedroom

The bed was a chaotic mess, sheets crumpled and soiled from the nights activities. You yawn, too exhausted to even think about changing the linens, and way too impatient to wait for Jaehyun to take care of it. Without hesitation, you reach for his wrist, pulling him gently out of his disheveled room.

You guide him into the room across the hall—the very one where you first stayed. As you get under the covers, you tug them up and slip in beside him, legs tangling with his as you get comfortable.

Jaehyun can’t tear his gaze away from you as you settle next to him, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating your features. Your eyes feel heavy, and you yawn again, surrendering to the fatigue. “Go to sleep, Jae, stop staring like a creep,” you grumble, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

“I'm afraid to,” he admits, his words muffled against your hair as he leans down to press a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Why?” you ask, brows furrowing in concern.

“Because I’m afraid that when I wake up, this will all be a dream,” he confesses.

“Jaehyun. I’m right here,” you murmur with a soft yawn, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second. The warmth of his body and the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into a sense of comfort that makes it hard to resist the pull of sleep. “I’ll always be… right here,” you promise, your words fading into a whisper as sleep finally overtakes you.

[a-tiny-thing]

contract

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: a witcher (polish: wiedźmin) is someone who has undergone extensive training, ruthless mental and physical conditioning, and mysterious rituals in preparation for becoming an itinerant slayer for hire. this witcher is currently in novigrad, and is overshadowed by his fellow brother. whenever a contract for a monster is issued, it is geralt of rivia they expect. seonghwa has grown tired of the disappointed faces that greet him when he accepts a contract, and thus has decided to rest in the big city and let the other witcher do the job. even after geralt left for skellige islands in search of his daughter cirilla, seonghwa decides to keep aside out of spite.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.3k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: witcher!seonghwa, catschool!seonghwa, highervampire!reader, f!reader, the witcher universe, smut, angst 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: oral(f!receiving), fingering, squirting, bondage 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: blood, violence, alcohol, nsfw, vampires 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: replaying witcher 3 and I absolutely love this universe! i hate what netflix did to it, it made it all gloomy and sexual and has little to no connection to the lore and aside from henry cavill and his sexy ass voice the show is a complete disaster. if you want to know more about this universe before reading, i suggest you watch this(these animations contain violence, nudity and blood in them!): https://youtu.be/1-l29HlKkXU?si=HAI0GckIcphtcTRa and https://youtu.be/c0i88t0Kacs?si=vvXEaYu_SThzEPNT

not entirely proofread forgive me! 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

the witcher sips his drink at the rosemary and thyme cabaret. the redanian lager in the wooden pitcher has never tasted worse, and the music has never scratched his ears as badly as tonight. he hated what jaskier has done with the brothel. a cabaret, he scoffs to himself.

"oi, witcher!"

the man sighs. even though he was forcing himself to drink the beer and didn't enjoy it, he also didn't enjoy being interrupted.

"'ave you checked the notice board? there's a witcher contract hangin' there for weeks!" the accent behind him is rough. a dwarf, he guesses. but he doesn't have to guess, because the short figure appears in front of him and slams the crumpled piece of paper on the wooden table. "while you're 'ere tryna plough some whores, there's a threat inside the city gates!"

"geralt can handle that." the witcher mumbles, pushing the paper away. he drinks another sip of the warm beer, eyes fixed on the discarded medallion next to his two swords on the table. "he is the mighty wolfie. i'm sure he'll handle it."

"in case ya haven't noticed," the dwarf dares to get into the witcher's face, even goes as far as to flick him on the forehead. "the white wolf has gone lookin' for his lost lass. he is probably already in skellige, solvin' contract after contract and still workin' on finding cirilla. like a true witcher."

when the witcher's eyes start glimmering a familiar yellow, and his irises resemble the cat's, it is a sign for the dwarf to back away. the man places the pitcher with a loud thud on the table, then slowly stands up. his armor clinks as he moves, and his glowing eyes drill into the man's scared ones. still, the shorter male doesn't flinch, even if his eyes give away his emotions.

"when the white wolf comes, he can solve your fucking contract." the witcher doesn't need to raise his voice. the way he growls is enough to make a beast tuck its tail and lower its gaze. which is what the dwarf should be doing now. "as if you know what a true witcher is. stupid humans, hiding in your houses at every wolf howl and owl hoot, burning mages and sorceresses at stakes because they are different than you, casting elves out, calling us witchers mutants, yet crying for help and leaving pathetic notes and contracts on notice boards when you realise just how weak and mortal you are compared to all of us."

"young lasses 're getting killed left and right, and you only care about yer dick and where to get drunk."

"well, certainly not here anymore."

the taller man throws a few coins on the table, not bothering to pick up the ones that fell on the ground. he then takes his swords and puts them on his back, along with the crossbow. the medallion necklace rests in his pocket this time instead of around his neck.

as he makes his way outside, the music doesn't stop, nor do any of the guests or dancers turn to look. they are used to the moody witcher by now. yet the dwarf doesn't give up.

"ye know, i wish geralt were here. he has a daughter. he wouldn't think twice before accepting this contract. you? you are just a coward."

"hey, hey! seonghwa, endarn! you're upsetting my guests!"

"mind your business, jaskier. i am out of here anyway. doubt i'll come back any time soon. you and your cabaret." the dark haired witcher, seonghwa, spits on the ground.

the young bard rolls his eyes. if he didn't know geralt, he would have a very bad opinion about witchers. "passiflora is just a few blocks away. you know, a real brothel. also, not to be rude, but you were a few crowns short back there."

seonghwa grunts. he reaches into his pocket and finds a few more coins, then throws them behind his back and follows the trail to the famous brothel.

"are all witchers 'xcept geralt like that?" the dwarf asks, disappointed.

the bard takes the contract from his hand, looking at the messy hand-writing, then at the stumbling witcher. "no. just the cat school ones. or so i've heard."

meanwhile, seonghwa has found his way to the passiflora brothel. he isn't usually like this, really. but recently, people have been asking for witchers, and when he'd show up, they'd be disappointed it is not his friend and colleague geralt. witchers are not supposed to feel or show emotion. but seonghwa has had enough. just a week ago he had slayed a striga, and the only gratitude he got was a raw fish into his face and a few crowns. he wasn't sad. he was angry that these people had the audacity to plead for help and be picky about it.

he wasn't ploughing anyone. the brothels were the only place where he had peace. people too focused on lust and fun, it allowed seonghwa to sit in the corner and sip his favourite kaedwenian stout in peace. he'd sometimes take a girl upstairs, only to give her a pouch of coins so she can leave him to sleep in peace. some would be relieved, some offended. but seonghwa didn't care. all he wanted was rest.

tonight, however, he needed to switch locations. ever since jaskier met his soulmate, his brothel has transformed into a cabaret. yes, the bard wanted to do that before meeting her. but he delayed it. and seonghwa liked it. now? everyone was at his neck, especially since they discovered that jaskier knows not one, but two witchers. favor here, problem there, and seonghwa couldn't catch a break. this one has rats, this one has a ghoul in his basement, and this one wants to act tough and challenge him to a fist fight so he can win a girl over.

the dark haired man glances at the wooden sign that reads passiflora, before carefully entering. he is greeted with a rather sweet scent and sensual music. the people inside aren't half naked like they were back in rosemary and thyme. they were dressed in prettiest dresses, had their hair decorated with all sorts of pins, and were in elegant make-up. a true refreshment. the place didn't reek of sweat, and wasn't loud at all. no sights of shirtless men with their hairy belly out, no women with missing and unbrushed teeth, no stench of alcohol and bodily fluids. seonghwa was pleasantly surprised.

"ah, a witcher!"

and there it is.

"please, do come in. care for a drink? your first one is on the house."

odd. the middle aged woman didn't bombard him with a plea for help. nor did she look at him with judgement. "thank you...?"

"mathilda is enough." she smiles at him. seonghwa can't remember the last time someone smiled at him genuinely.

"thank you, mathilda."

mathilda turns out to be the owner of the brothel. she has black hair, with dozens of grey strands blending in it. her face has minimum makeup, or so seonghwa thinks. what does he know about makeup? her dress is modest, and he comes to a conclusion that she might be retired. she is also very pleasant to speak with. so pleasant that the witcher doesn't realise how fast the time is passing and how much more talkative he is getting.

"so, which one of the girls has caught your attention?" the woman turns away from the bar, and so does the witcher. he sips his third drink of the evening as the woman points at the girls in the room. "we've got a few new girls, eager to prove themselves. how do you like them?"

when seonghwa glances at the clock, he decides it might be time to go and rest. so he skims over the pretty girls that dance and speak to other customers. some of them are relaxed, as if this is their home, and some are stiff and nervous. his yellow eyes then pick up a figure in the corner, standing all by herself with her arms folded across her chest. her hair is decorated with gold hairpins, and head chain sits prettily on her forehead. it reminds seonghwa of an elven princess. her dress is a deep green, parting at her thighs and falling to the ground. it has a deep cut that goes to her stomach, and it seems that she is trying to hide her exposed skin.

"ah, y/n." mathilda notices his lingering gaze. "good luck with it. i gave her another week to relax, i won't push her yet. if she doesn't change within a week, i'll have to fire her. shame, really. she is gorgeous, and has brought me many new customers."

seonghwa hums. he then locks eyes with the beautiful figure's ones, and downs his beer. to both his and mathilda's surprise, the young woman makes her way towards the bar. for a moment, they think that she might pass by them and just order herself a drink. instead, she places her hand on the witcher's chest, feeling the cold silver armor under her palm.

"good evening, witcher." her voice is as sweet as honey in seonghwa's ears. he is mesmerized, and she has only spoken a few words to him. "come to release some stress?"

seonghwa watches as her glossy lips move while she speaks. subconsciously, his hand reaches for her cheek to cup it, thumb grazing over her bottom lip and eyes focused on the tongue that peeks out to lick the tip of his finger. he almost shudders at the action. the young woman is determined to prove herself, and goes a step further. she wraps her small hands around his big one, and guides his thumb between her lips, gently swirling her warm tongue around it and sending shivers down the witcher's spine. seonghwa feels his trousers tighten; something he hasn't felt in a while.

she releases his finger with a soft pop, but keeps his hand safe in hers near her chest. "i've always wanted to meet a witcher."

and how could seonghwa refuse her, when she looks at him with big pleading eyes, her chest heaving, and with her lip gloss smeared. the desire to smear it further awakens in him, and he wastes no time in paying for his drink and thanking mathilda. the young woman keeps the witcher's hand in hers, intertwining their fingers as she leads him upstairs and into one of the rooms.

usually, this is the part where seonghwa explains that he is not interested in any sexual interactions. but the way the green dress slides off her body, and the way the fireplace illuminates her skin makes his head spin. she turns around, body bare except for the cotton panties that sit on her hips. seonghwa, however, is still in his witcher gear. the feline armor is suddenly too heavy on him. she seems to hear his thoughts, because she is quick to approach him and press her warm bare chest against his clothed cold one. her delicate hands slip around his waist, and on his back, until they reach the belt that holds his weapons.

"may i?"

it only takes a nod from him to get rid of the entire armor and the clothes underneath. he is now also left in his underwear, and he can't wait to take them off too.

"can i give you a massage, witcher?"

seonghwa swears he hasn't heard a voice so seductive... ever. smooth, sweet, breathy. the way she sighs and breathes against his neck as her fingers work on the knots on his shoulder blades relaxes him. before he can fall asleep on the chair in front of the mirror, she wakes him up with a playful hair pull. he only scoffs with amusement. his eyes follow as her last piece of clothing slides down her smooth thighs and pools on the ground. then, she herself gets on the ground on all fours, and crawls over to the stunned witcher.

"what are you-"

"hush, pretty." if seonghwa had anything to add or even finish his sentence, a gasp stops him. he watches as the young woman catches the string of his underwear between his teeth, and pulls until they come loose and fall to the ground.

is she really new?

seonghwa does not complain. he does complain however when she stands up, taking his rough hand in her soft one and guiding him towards the bed. the sight of someone like that getting on her knees for him was a first, and he wanted to savor it just a tad bit longer.

"talk to me, witcher." she climbs on top of him, soft smooth skin caressing his scarred and rough as she lays on top of him. her breasts are squished against his hard chest, and his hands immediately reach for her waist to hold. "tell me what you want. i'll give you all of it."

seonghwa stops for a moment. he isn't sure what he wants. yes, he slept with women before. he slept with sorceresses too. all of them were the same; get it in and over with. seonghwa would simply lay there and let them chase their own pleasure. he would reach his own too, and he never thought further of it. they even complimented him, saying how no man has made them feel that good, that their partners would usually do it for themselves and leave them to finish on their own. now, however, seeing this beauty pressed against him and looking at him with pure desire, he might discover something new. he might put himself first. not that he didn't enjoy the previous encounters. he is just eager to see what she has to offer him. "i give you full freedom to do whatever you wish to me."

her lips stretch in an excited smile, and her eyes have a certain glint. if seonghwa wasn't so painfully needy right now, he would've questioned it. true witcher style.

"just... one thing."

"yes?"

seonghwa's hands reach for the green dress that was dropped on the floor. he hands it to her, and she looks at him with confusion. was he rejecting her?

"put it on."

"but- why?" her lips form a pout. "did i displease you somehow?"

the dark haired witcher smiles. he then simply sits up on the bed, hands still firmly planted on her waist as she fumbles with the green fabric. "no. you just look too stunning in it to leave it on the floor. no panties."

"oh." she exhales, relief washing over her body. "you do realize that you're the first man i've given myself to in this building and you're asking me to cover up?"

seonghwa doesn't respond, but instead watches her dress. her look is complete once again, except for the heeled boots that still lay on the floor. not a single sorceress he has met could compete with her. "so you were waiting for a witcher to be your first?"

"perhaps." her hands reach for the pins in her hair, but seonghwa stops her there too. she then scoffs in disbelief, but obeys anyway. "whatever i want, huh?"

"whatever you want." seonghwa sighs, body fully relaxing on the soft bed and eyes closed. his hands remain on her now clothed waist. he doesn't know what it is, but it gives him a sense of dominance, even if she is the one on top. her body feels small and fragile, and he has the urge to hold her, as if to protect her.

a sweet scent of berries envelops his senses, as well as his mind. her breath warms his neck, just a small warning before her lips attach to his skin. he can't help but flinch. she smiles against him, grazing his neck with her teeth. "found a sensitive spot it seems."

seonghwa only hums. his grip on her waist hardens as she kisses along his jawline, and her nails softly graze the path from his chest, down his stomach and to his defined v-line. finally, she attaches her lips to his. her other hand finds its way to his dark hair, softly massaging his scalp and lightly pulling the strands as he kisses her back. seonghwa feels as if this is his first proper kiss. nobody has ever kissed him before with such desire.

she grinds her hips against his, core lightly grazing his aching crotch, not yet giving him what he needs. as if he wasn't burning with need already, feeling her wet core slide against him only set him further on fire. he never said he was a patient man anyway.

he flips her on the bed with ease, now him being the one on top and in charge. his lips hungrily search for hers, tongue yearns for hers, and hands play with the sheer fabric of the dress. he doesn't care where he touches her. he just wants to feel her.

"thought i had full freedom?" she teases into the kiss.

he doesn't reply, instead biting her lower lip and sucking at it. she whines at the sweet pain, and if seonghwa didn't feel her body arch against his, he would've stopped. his lips chase hers, and no matter how many times his tongue rubs against hers, teeth clash against hers, and lips wipe the remaining lip gloss off hers, he can't get enough. "you taste so sweet."

even though he could spend the entire night just kissing her and feeling her body squirm under his, seonghwa proceeds to leave kisses down her neck, then the exposed skin between her breasts and all the way to her belly. the dress opening ends there, but it doesn't stop him. he disappears under the green ruffles, nose bumping against the soft folds and tongue searching for the source of heat. 

he never did it. he wasn't exactly sure how. all he knew is that he needed to taste her, all of her. with a single swipe up her folds, he has her squirming. he subconsciously grabs her thighs and pulls her closer to his face, holding her in place and burying himself into her core. she does taste as sweet, and smells as delightful. the noises that travel to seonghwa's ears are new to him. never did he hear a woman be so whiny and loud. moans? sure. but whines? that was new. and he wasn't sure if it is a good or a bad thing.

"please..." she finally mutters a word.

the witcher emerges from the green ruffles of her dress, sending her a questioning look. when he sees her flustered face and heaving chest, sleeves pushed down so that her breasts are exposed and her hands playing with the tense nipples, seonghwa realizes what he has been missing out on. there was more to it all than just an orgasm.

and he was going to savor all of it.

"please." she begs again. "i'll be good, just please..."

"please what?" the witcher questions.

"give me something. anything." she shudders when his finger grazes her tense clit. "please."

seonghwa doesn't wish this to end yet. he is loving the impact he has on someone. on her. he can't get over her beauty, or her taste. when he finishes taking in the sight of her half naked and flustered state, he attaches his lips to her clit once again, tongue swiping over the sensitive bud in circular motions and fingers searching for her leaking hole. her moans are more high pitched, and the grip on his hair stronger as he slowly inserts his finger inside. he wastes no time in adding another one, slowly pumping in and out and exploring which motions make her louder and her fingers pull at his hair harder. when he finds a certain spot on her upper wall, he abuses it, to the point where she shakes under his touch and moans turn to a blubbering mess.

"oh, witcher-" she gasps, body suddenly tensing and thighs squeezing around his head.

seonghwa doesn't have time to process what is happening, because he is greeted by clear fluid splashing his face. he doesn't stop yet, even though he wasn't exactly sure what happened. the young woman is a twitching mess under him, grinding her hips against his face and riding out her orgasm. when she starts pulling at his hair to pull him away from her, he takes it as a sign to stop.

"well," he flips the bottom of her dress over, exposing the abused core to the cool air that comes from the open balcony door. "i've never done that before."

"me neither." she admits, face red with embarrassment when she sees the witcher's soaked face. "i'm sorry."

"don't apologize. i am the one that should be apologizing."

"what for?"

instead of answering, he simply kisses her once again, savoring every caress of her tongue against his and every little noise she makes as his hands travel up her body and to her exposed breasts. the rough skin of his worn out fingers give her tense buds a gentle sensation. just enough to have her body arching against his and seek more of his warmth and touch. as she busies herself with playing with his hair and caressing the scars on his back, seonghwa slowly slides inside, letting out a low groan at the warm welcome.

he misses the way her eyes widen and her nails dig into his back. he is halfway in, struggling to go further. when her pretty face makes a painful grimace and a cry leaves her lips, seonghwa stops. "what's wrong?"

"nothing," she blinks her tears away.

"tell me." the witcher cups her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks and wiping the tears away.

"you're big."

his brows furrow. at first he isn't sure what she means, but when he feels her walls clench around him, he realizes. "oh."

"it's alright. keep going." her hands cup his face now, mimicking him. "just go slow."

but the witcher finds himself getting impatient once again. the way her warmth squeezes around him makes him see stars. and just like that, seonghwa finds himself snapping his hips into hers. a painful moan escapes her pretty lips once again, and seonghwa is quick to press his lips into hers to conceal it. she is mess, shamelessly moaning into his mouth whenever his hips collide with hers. tears roll down her cheeks once again, and this time, seonghwa doesn't stop. instead, he slows his pace, opting for sensual moves rather than rough ones.

"you're so big..." she sighs against his lips. "you're going to split me open."

if he could get any rock harder, he would. hell, he might even cum right there and then if it wasn't for the slow moves he was forced to do. "are you complaining?"

"not a bit."

tears of pain soon seem to transform into tears of pleasure, because when seonghwa starts snapping his hips against hers again, she only moans and groans. her walls tighten around him, announcing that she is close again. the witcher holds her waist in place, and his eyes can't get enough of her expressions, or the way her body responds to him and looks so fragile in his arms.

"cum in me, witcher." she begs. "fill me to the brim."

and seonghwa does just that. his moves become sloppy, and his concealed groans are now loud and clear as he pumps his seed into the beauty below him. he sees a slight bulge on her lower stomach when he goes to look where they are connected. fuck, he wants her again. and again and again. until the sun rises, just to watch the pure bliss on her face again.

"are you close?" he asks breathless. he is not yet overstimulated, he is just getting started.

"shut up." she chokes out, clearly focusing on reaching her peak and not wanting to be disturbed.

this time, instead of a moan of ecstasy, her mouth opens without any noise coming out. her eyes roll back, almost all the way, before her body starts twitching as waves of pleasure wash it over. her nails dig into his back, so deep that they pierce his skin and have him wincing in pain. then, her eyes roll back. and seonghwa stiffens.

dangerous red irises stare back at his yellow alert ones. the witcher instinctively reaches for the sword on his back, only to be met with emptiness. the figure below him gives him a wicked smile, with fangs on full display before latching herself onto his neck and piercing his skin once again.

fuck.

seonghwa didn't expect to be awoken in the bed he was in last night. truth be told, seonghwa didn't expect to be awake at all. however, when he tries to move and reach for his weapons that lay on the dresser next to the bed, strains prevent him. strains on both his wrists and ankles. the blinds are blocking the morning sun, keeping the woman who sat in front of the mirror safe. for now.

"why am i alive?"

she looks at him through the mirror, smile dancing on her lips. she runs a comb through her hair and removes the golden pins in the process. "good morning, little witcher."

"let me go."

"well, since you asked so nicely." she rolls her eyes, standing up from the chair and approaching the bed. the green dress is replaced by rags seonghwa usually saw in the war destroyed villages of velen. all of her jewelry sits on the dresser in front of the mirror, including the headpiece that drove seonghwa crazy last night. "come to think of it, i never got to return the favor. you were so eager to fuck me."

he doesn't have to question, because she gives him the answer by running her nails up his thigh and to his crotch. "stop that."

"your cock says otherwise, slayer." when seonghwa doesn't respond to her touch, she huffs. "boring. well, off i go. you better not go anywhere while i'm gone."

seonghwa had many questions on his mind. he didn't know which one to ask first. and he didn't know whether or not he will get a truthful answer. or an answer at all. after all, this was the higher vampire he had a contract on. how foolish of him to leave that medallion in his pocket instead of around his neck. it would've vibrated the moment she laid her hand on his armored chest, and she would've been dead by now.

"isn't mathilda going to question this... situation?" he looks at the ropes holding him to the bed.

"mathilda doesn't care what happens during the day. she only needs the rooms free at night. this room is mine, and i can use it however i please."

"why are you dressed like that?"

"as if you haven't stumbled upon false beggars by now. please, seonghwa." she straightens her rags, and glances at herself in the mirror once again. "you think of us monsters so lowly. like we are stupid. thing is, you're not that different. you're not a human. you're just a mutant."

seonghwa hums, unamused. "it's daylight. how will you go out?"

"there's shades in this city. plenty of them. now, be a good little witcher and stay here." she plants a kiss on his forehead, then turns to leave.

but the witcher is quicker, and grabs her by the rags and tosses on the bed. while he was questioning her, he managed to free one hand from the ropes with his teeth. her eyes turn red again, anger evident on her face.

"silly witcher." her teeth are quick to sink into his flesh again, causing seonghwa to growl with pain. she slurps on his hot blood, moaning in the process, the scent and taste of iron giving her bigger pleasure than anything else. when she pulls away, she has a look of victory and proud on her face. right until seonghwa smirks.

"true. i do think you are stupid." she steps away from him, suddenly feeling dizzy. while stepping back, her shoe kicks something on the floor, causing it to shatter. an empty potion bottle.

"what- what have you done?"

the witcher then frees his other hand, and reaches for his silver sword while the vampire tries to decipher just what he did to her. she gets her answer when she looks at herself in the mirror, veins prominent and pitch black. shaky hands hurriedly get rid of the rags and expose her body. he drank a potion to poison his blood because he knew she'd drink again. her eyes catch a glimpse of the shiny silver through the mirror, and she is quick to dodge it and jump on the bed.

the cut off and untied ropes hang uselessly from the bed frame. or maybe not completely useless. "how should i kill you?"

"no, please." the young woman sits against the bed frame, knees pulled to her chest and hands hugging them in defense. "please."

"i am doing you a favor by asking. silver..." he holds the shiny sword up, runestones making the marks green and match the dress on the floor. "or gold." he points to the balcony door with blinds. a ray of sun has managed to break through, lighting up the medallion that now rests on his chest, vibrating and alerting to danger.

"please." she begs. "i just want to live. we just want to live."

"so does the folk. and you don't let them."

her teary eyes don't work on seonghwa this time. they only make him angrier. she used him. and he fell for it. he was angrier with himself for allowing a woman's seducing to work on him like that. if she were a sorceress, he'd understand. he cannot escape the strong grip of magic. but a vampire? all these years of work and training seemed for nothing. he only hopes geralt doesn't find out about this.

"i don't kill. i just feed!"

"you feed on women and children."

"children are just weak. and those women weren't worth anything! their husbands would come and fuck me, and then offer their wives to me!" she then gets on her knees, hands in a pleading motion. "please, witcher. you kill to survive. so do i."

"no."

in a few seconds, the young woman is bound to the bed, hissing and growling at the witcher as he approaches the balcony door.

"i kill to save people. you kill to save yourself."

with that, he pulls the blinds, allowing the sun to enlighten the room and the nude figure on the bed.

"your kind will no longer torment people. i won't stop until i've killed the last one of you vampires, hags, wraiths and ghouls. i exist for the sole purpose of exterminating you. and that is what i'll do. even if it takes all my life."

the vampire is in no position to form any sentences, body seething and glowing under the morning yellow sun. the witcher is unfazed, already used to it. he calmly puts his armor back on, puts the weapons on his back, and gives the vampire a final glance before going downstairs to sign the contract and collect his reward.