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sundives · 2 months ago

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Decode ✶ psh.

Learning from you that I can walk away, too.

Summary: You're the textbook definition of the perfect daughter. With everything laid out to you, the only thing you should do is follow the footsteps of your parents and become a doctor. If not, marry a soon-to-be doctor and be the perfect wife for him.

Easily, you can do both. Despite being a college student, you are already arranged to marry Park Sunghoon, the son of your parents' business partner. While you're doing everything to tie him to your perfect life, Sunghoon is very much determined to ran away from it, chasing after a dream of passion which you could never understand.

✰ Song inspiration: Decode by Sabrina Carpenter, Autumn by Niki, Already Over by Sabrina Carpenter

✰ Word Count: 23.9k (what the hell sure.)

✰ Tags: Arranged marriage, angst!!, a bit of unrequited love, hurt a little bit of comfort, lots of lots of miscommunication (these two can’t communicate ffs), angst with happy ending ig, short fluff, smut! College setting, reader is a perfectionist and soooo stubborn, Park Sunghoon is a mess, he’s also in a band. Mentions of drinking and alcohol, and mild violence. Toxic relationships, so much drama, Wonyoung and Ningning as your best friends, mentions of enhypen members, fancy dinners and shits, lots of cursing lmao.

✰ CW: smut! Plot with little porn, loss of virginity (both of them are virgins lmao but they kinda know what to do though, don’t ask how), extremely soft vanilla sex!! P in v sex, short mutual masturbation, fingering, mentions of blood, use of condom (!!!), praise, big dick! Sunghoon, aftercare. I might have forgotten some but yeah, shitty smut hope you enjoy nonetheless.

✰ Asul’s note: okay med students don’t come to me, I know that you need to pass a board exam before attending med school, or not, i think that’s based on your undergraduate program sdkfkjddfk. (I base it on my country lmao) so inaccuracies about becoming a doctor might be present here, so now, I am apologizing for the inaccuracies. (anyways, this is a fanfic guys, let it slide.) This is also not proofread lmao.

Anyways, this is the second installment for Arcanum series yay! you guys loved Jay's fic that I decided to write for the other members. :D hope you enjoy this one. <3

Read Jay's fic here.

✰ Taglist: @kiikiisblog @bussolares @semi-wife @starry-eyed-bimbo @sievenderz @jakeslvt

You have a routine.

By six in the morning, regardless if you have class that day, you’ll be awake. You start your day by taking a 5km walk in the community plaza in your subdivision, wherein the sun has already risen but not enough for you to feel hot.

You should also be home by seven in the morning, wherein you do your morning routine like taking a bath, cooking breakfast, and maybe spare thirty minutes to read the book on your reading list before driving off to Decelis University. If you don’t have any classes that day, you’ll spend the day advance reading your subjects.

Everything in your life has always been like that. Having a routine keeps you organized, calms your mind and keeps your body circling everyday — leaving no room for mistakes, because making mistakes for you isn’t an ideal thing to do.

You’re the only child of your family. You grew up with loving parents who showered you with love and everything that you want. Spoiled but not rotten, everything wasn’t given to you in a snap. They always taught you that everything they give to you, should be repaired. Hence, you grew up with expectations given to you, and you have every determination not to fail your parents.

That’s why you’re studying medical biology, following the footsteps of your father who owns the biggest medical center in your city. Ever since your father exposed you to his work, your dream has been to become a doctor like him, and they were happy that you’re following their path.

While they are anticipating for you to become a doctor, your parents didn’t hesitate to give you a second option — a doctor’s wife like your mother. Someone who tends to their husband, becoming a housewife or trophy wife who spends their husband’s money with no problem, your mother would always joke.

Coincidentally, your parents didn’t even let you choose between the options because easily, you can have both. While your ring finger remains empty, you know you’re bound to be married to someone by the time you graduate college.

“Sunghoon,” you called out, shaking the boy’s shoulder. You were given a short groan as Sunghoon turned sideways and covered his head with the blanket.

“Sunghoon, wake up! We have class at ten!” you shouted, pulling the blanket once again. It didn’t take a minute for Sunghoon to sit up with a loud groan escaping his lips.

“y/n, it’s only eight in the morning, you can go to Decelis if you want to, but let me fucking rest for another hour,” he said mindlessly, eyes still close.

“You’ll skip class again because you overslept,” you pointed out. “Are you still drunk?”

“I have a hangover, thanks for asking,” Sunghoon replied sarcastically. “Also, why do you care if I skip class for today? It’s just a minor subject for fuck’s sake, just go.”

“Make sure you go to Decelis today,” you reminded before leaving his room. Sunghoon didn’t even bother replying to you, he only lay down in his bed once again and dozed off, which only made you heave a sigh.

You’ve known Park Sunghoon ever since you two were kids. You remember the first time you two met, at his father’s birthday, wherein he played the piano for the audience. You watched as he effortlessly played a song you’re unfamiliar with. Eyes locked at him, it was the first time you felt that rush of in your heart, cheeks heating up as you admired him from where you were standing.

Ever since that day, you wanted to marry Sunghoon. His parents own the largest pharmaceutical company in your district which means that he’s bound to inherit his parents’ business. You think that it was destiny. If you two were to get married, your parents’ businesses would merge and you envision yourself as a doctor along with Sunghoon.

It was as if the perfect life had been given to you. While you never formally requested to your parents that you wanted to marry Sunghoon, they pretty much set you two up. You grew up with Sunghoon, played and studied with him, and went to the same school together.

He was your best friend. Although the lingering crush inside you still gives you butterflies every time you’re with Sunghoon, your platonic love for him still outweighs. You two passed Decelis University together, but before you two entered college, the formal arrangement between the two of you was held in a private dinner — completely shattering your relationship with him.

From there, everything changed, the wariness that you two will get married after graduation lingers, and the fact that you two were forced to live in a house together, alone, made it more awkward for the two of you.

Both your parents insisted that it’s for you two to prepare for your marriage. At first, it was hard to adjust, having small talks and walking on eggshells during the first few months despite you two growing up together. But slowly, you two had become well-adjusted with each other.

Going to Decelis together, study dates, and senseless conversations after dinner happened because not only you two live together, you two are also classmates. You two became well-known in your department. With your family’s background and reputation, everyone knows that you two are engaged to each other, and by the end of your freshman year, you two were considered as the medical sciences department’s “power couple.”

Although you two had adjusted well, the two of you knew that what you had were only platonic, two best friends who live together under the same roof, ignoring the future that awaits for both of you.

But when sophomore year came, Sunghoon formed a band along with some friends and a junior of his, and they named it, “Arcanum,” and ever since that day, Sunghoon was no longer the Sunghoon that you knew.

You always thought that his talent for piano will only be a talent of his, but you didn’t expect it to become a passion that he will come chasing after. Ever since Arcanum happened, the sound of his keyboard can be heard all over your house, and instead of medical books and notes from your subjects being on his table, it has become lyrical sheets and chords that only Sunghoon can read.

While Sunghoon still excels in class and passes his subjects with ease, it’s not hard to ignore that his college program isn’t his priority anymore. You found yourself alone in your house every night, Sunghoon separating from you by the end of the class because he has a gig or band practice. Sometimes he goes home drunk, and you’re wondering why the hell he is letting himself get drunk despite his low alcohol tolerance.

You know that it’ll get worse if he continues doing it. You tried to talk him out of it but Sunghoon got angry with you instead, lashing out that why can’t you just support his passion instead. It was the first time he ever got angry with you and yet, it fueled something in you, the way he looked at you that night, you’re convinced that he’s not the Sunghoon that you know — which persisted you more to make him go back to the way he was.

You tried. Everyday, you tried to make sure he goes to his class, waking him up and checking up on him became part of your routine. But it all seems useless because the more you pick up Sunghoon’s mess, the more he becomes annoyed at you. It became something you two always fought about, slowly you two didn’t realise that you two had drifted apart.

“Class dismissed,” the professor announced. You could only close your notebook as you shake your head with disappointment.

Sunghoon didn’t show up, he’s probably in his room, still asleep. You hated how he didn’t show up, and all of it is because of a hangover from yesterday’s gig. You always told him that he shouldn’t drink during school days but it’s Sunghoon, he never listens to you.

As you grabbed your things and placed them in your bag, your professor called you out suddenly, which made you head towards him.

“Yes sir?” you asked.

“It’s about Sunghoon,” he started, your eyes widened but you only nodded, it wasn’t a surprise to you that your professors go to you if there’s any concerns regarding your fiance.

“He might as well drop my subject because he’s already failing,” your professor explained.

“What?” you asked, almost stumbling on your own tongue.

“He’s been absent for the past few weeks, and you know that attendance is still a crucial part of my subject. If he keeps on missing my classes, he’ll receive a failing grade in my subject, no considerations,” he said with a stern voice.

You kept quiet for a moment, but only nodded. “I will inform him about this one, thank you so much sir.”

“I know that Arcanum is slowly becoming popular, but he still has to prioritize his studies,” your professor comments.

You only gave him a formal smile before excusing yourself. As soon as you reached the hallway, you felt yourself in relief, but there was a hurtful tug on your heart. You couldn’t help but to grab your phone, dialing Sunghoon’s number.

But all your calls went to his voicemail, you only stared at your phone, frozen from where you were standing. Your heart is beating at an abnormal pace and you hate that feeling.

You’re nervous. You hated feeling nervous. You’re nervous about Sunghoon, if he fails this subject, he’ll be delayed to graduate. He can’t delay. No, you two were supposed to graduate this year and after a few months, you two will get married before attending medical school. That’s the plan. There shouldn’t be any other options other than that.

Of course you have to tell him about it, but the question was, does Sunghoon care? That’s what scares you the most. Because there’s a large possibility that he doesn’t care about it, he’ll let himself fail a subject if it means proving you wrong.

You couldn’t concentrate for the remaining day. Thoughts keep running in your mind, and to make it worse, none of your subjects were attended by Sunghoon. You don’t know his whereabouts since he wasn’t replying to your texts and calls, and you know that you’re going home to an empty house again.

Sunghoon is probably in his gig again, or maybe practicing somewhere. That’s what you thought when you entered the house, and your guess is right, it was empty and dark. As you close the door, there’s a small pain in your heart staring at the huge yet hollow house, wondering if this would be the house that you’ll go home to in a few years.

But your pondering was interrupted when you felt your phone vibrating, as you grabbed it and opened, you were surprised that Sunghoon’s calling you.

“I’ve been calling you since earlier!” you shouted the moment you answered the call.

“My parents’ are here, I spent the day with them in case you’re wondering why I was absent for today,” Sunghoon said boredly, and despite his cold tone, you were relieved to hear his explanation.

“You should’ve told me that instead of having me wonder where the hell are you,” you replied.

“Get dressed, they’re taking us out for dinner, I know you’re home by now, so we’ll pick you around thirty minutes,” and with that, Sunghoon ends the call. He didn’t even acknowledge your answer. You could only look at your phone for a minute before deciding to go to your room and find a nice outfit for dinner.

Sunghoon’s parents are a lovely couple who treated you like their own daughter. As soon as they arrive at your place to pick you up, Mrs. Park immediately approaches you with a smile on her face, hugging you tightly which you only reciprocate.

“Y/n dear! Look at you, so pretty as ever,” she said with a smile, brushing your hair which only made you smile wider. “Don’t get too stressed, okay? I know with graduation nearing, it can be stressful for you two. Just don’t worry about your marriage, focus on your studies first.”

You only let out a small chuckle, “of course auntie, thank you for the concern.”

“You’re looking out for Sunghoon,” she whispered, knowing that the subject was in the room. “It can be hard sometimes, right? I’m just happy that you’re the one that he’s going to marry. He doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

The smile on your face almost slipped, but you managed to give her a nod. The beaming smile on Mrs. Park’s lips make you wonder what she would feel if she learned about how disastrous her son is now — or how his fiance couldn’t even tame him down.

“Of course, thank you for putting your trust in me.�� instead, fake words slipped out of your mouth perfectly even though you were itching to snitch your fiance to his mother.

Mrs. Park only pats your cheeks one last time before calling out Mr. Park and Sunghoon, indicating that the four of you should go now.

Arriving at the restaurant, the four of you went straight to the VIP room where food was already served. Dinner immediately commenced with a few talks and chit-chats.

“Graduation is near,” Mr. Park said in the middle of the dinner, glancing at you and Sunghoon. “Any plans? University of choice for your med school?”

“Decelis’ medical school is one of the top,” you answered diligently. “I might stay there.”

“Ah, I do remember, both your parents attended Decelis Medical School, good choice for you y/n,” Mr. Park pointed out.

“How about you Sunghoon dear?” Mrs. Park asked.

You only glanced at Sunghoon who busied himself with the food. He gives his parents a bored stare before picking up the meat on his plate, “Probably Decelis too.”

“Ah I see, you don’t want to get separated from y/n, such a sweetheart,” Mrs. Park teasingly said.

Sunghoon softly scoffs, making you glance at him. His action were left unnoticed by his parents. When Sunghoon glanced at you, he raised an eyebrow, and you wanted to say something but you held yourself back. Knowing that you two are just putting up a show to his parents.

The remaining hours were filled with nothing but silence, which you are used to. Talks about college were all the conversation revolved around, and somehow, Sunghoon managed to answer his parents’ questions like he was a diligent student who’s top of his class.

“Take care of the two of you okay? We’ll see you during your break,” after a few goodbyes and hugs, Sunghoon’s parents have left the two of you back in your house. The two of you watched their car leave and with that, Sunghoon turns around and enters the house.

You followed him, heels clanking against the marble floor. You watched as he unbuttons his sleeved shirt’s button, walking towards his room when you called him out.

“You should be glad that I didn’t tell them that you’re on the edge of failing a subject,” you blurted out.

Sunghoon merely laughs in disbelief, “oh, now I should be glad that you saved my ass earlier? Thank you then.”

You chose to ignore his sarcastic remark, “Sunghoon, you can’t give up now, we’re graduating, do you really want to get yourself delayed?”

Sunghoon only stared at you, “what if I do? Is there something you can do about it?”

You only blink for a second. “Fine, go on and get delayed, fail a subject if you want to. But do I have to remind you that Arcanum’s a university band? And by Decelis’ rules, they allow bands to perform as long as they don’t have a failing grade? So if you want to be so hard-headed about not attending class, say goodbye to your band then.”

“You’re so annoying aren’t you? Using Arcanum just so I can continue studying medicine,” Sunghoon exhales.

A haunting smirk plastered on your face, “oh no sweetheart, I’m just reminding you that you can’t chase after Arcanum, especially when it’s still tied in Decelis and your studies. So maybe rethink your life choices now before your parents find out about the mess that you’ve been doing.”

Sunghoon mockingly laughs, “you’re such a stuck-up to my parents.”

“Then make a fucking choice Hoon,” you challenged. “Them finding out through me or Decelis? Either way, it’s not going to end well, so fix yourself and get some sleep tonight. We have class tomorrow at eight. Goodnight to you.”

You end the conversation by passing by him. Going straight to your room where you immediately locked yourself. You lean against the door, Eyes shutting tightly as you try to steady your breathing. You can feel all the energy leaving your body, wanting nothing more to sleep.

You always say to yourself that you won’t give up on Sunghoon, but days like these feel like every effort you give to him is useless.

The following day, you and Sunghoon arrived at Decelis University together, creating a buzz in the campus. It was a rare occurrence for you to attend together.

Everyone knows. It's obvious that your relationship has been becoming astray, and yet, your “power couple” status remains the same. No one attempted to pursue you nor girls couldn’t flirt with Sunghoon not only because you two are tied together, but because you two are deemed untouchable because of your background.

You two entered the classroom, Sunghoon going to the corner seat near the window while you opted for the second row near the aisle. A few mutters can be heard, but you chose to ignore it, getting used to people talking about you and Sunghoon’s ‘stray relationship.’

The day goes on, classes and laboratories continue on and on, and you’ve done the class with ease. You didn’t talk to Sunghoon but you observed that he managed to catch up with your lectures despite his absences. Natural Sunghoon, he can be gone for half of the semester, and still manage to top his grades.

“Go home already,” Sunghoon said to you by the end of the class. “I have a gig tonight.”

You only gave him a bitter smile, “of course you have.”

But instead of leaving you there, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, “you know this y/n.”

“And I’m used to it,” you sharply said. “Why are you still standing there? Go now before I convince you to not go to your gig tonight.’

Sunghoon gave you another look before turning around, watching him leave the classroom as you stood there. Short conversations, sarcastic remarks, and bitter statements that’ll lead to arguments. You wonder when will this end?

“What’s wrong? You’re out of focus today,” Yizhuo asked with a worried tone. You only place your tennis racket down as you grab your water bottle.

“Just the same usual thing,” you answer, sitting on the bench as your best friend did the same thing. She places her hand on your thigh, lightly patting it.

“Sunghoon again? You know you should stop chasing after him.”

“It’s not that I am chasing him, I’m already tied to him —” you heaved out another heavy sigh. “He’s the one chasing after a dream. Bands? What’s his future with them? After college, they’ll be gone, it’s not like they’ll continue playing after college.”

“He seems to be so passionate about it,” Yizhuo pointed out. “Watched their performance last week at The Rabbit Hole, they’re great by the way.”

“He should be focusing on med school,” you explained. “But he’s out there performing and getting drunk, I don’t know Ning, I don’t know what to do with him. His parents trusted me to take care of him —”

“There you go again, worrying about things that aren’t your control,” your best friend gently pats your back. “You know, you can always back out of the marriage? You’re still young! You might even meet someone better in med school.”

That’s when you stifle a laugh, “how can I? My parents arranged this one.”

“Ran away! Do you really want to spend your life with that idiot?”

You didn’t answer your friend. Your smile disappeared, and for a moment, you only looked at the court where strangers were playing tennis. Your focus shifted to the tennis ball bouncing back and forth from the players until it went out of the court.

“I do,” you said softly, because from the very start, it has always been Sunghoon. You couldn’t imagine yourself looking for others when Sunghoon is right there from the very start.

“You’re going to let yourself be a fool for him huh?” Yizhuo asked with a disappointed tone.

But you only looked at your best friend with a determined smile, “no, I’m going to make him quit the band.”

“You know you’re already doing it but nothing’s changing,” Yizhuo said. You only gave her a smile before standing up from the bench, you two went back to the table where your bags are located.

“Then I just have to keep on trying more,” you pointed out, fishing out your phone, you opened it and saw missed calls from Sunghoon — which is a surprise.

You pressed Sunghoon’s number and after a few rings, it answered.

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice called.

“Hello, who is this?” you asked.

“It’s Heeseung, Sunghoon’s bandmate.”

“Oh! I remember you, you study education right?”

Heeseung faintly chuckles from the background, “yes, that would be me, but listen, uhm…Sunghoon’s drunk right now —”

“Already? It’s only ten in the evening.”

“Yeah, but you know his alcohol tolerance — listen, uhm can you pick him up? He’s passed out on the couch but doesn’t want to get inside Jay’s car for some reason.” you can sense Heeseung’s apologetic tone, which only made you roll your eyes.

“It’s not like I can leave him there right? Can you send me the location, I’ll be there in a few minutes, I’m just at Decelis’ tennis club,” you said.

“I’ll send it right now, thank you y/n.” And with that, the call ended. You grabbed your bag and bid Yizhuo goodbye.

“Just reminding you that you can always leave him!” your best friend shouted, and you only gave her a glare before sprinting towards your car.

Sunghoon’s location drove you to a huge house, just a few blocks away from the university. Parking your car nearby, you got off from it and headed towards the entrance, ringing the bell twice.

The door opened, revealing a tall and familiar guy who you assumed was Heeseung.

“You’re here, that’s great, we’ll get Sunghoon but come in first,” he said with a smile, you only nod as you enter the house.

“You’re Heeseung right?” you asked as you two walked towards the living room. Heeseung stops and looks at you, he looks surprised but only nods.

“Yeah, this is probably the first time we met, I only see you inside the campus and that’s a rare occurrence.” he said.

Entering the living room, the first thing you saw was Sunghoon flat-out dead on the couch while some boys were cleaning the mess on the coffee table along with some girls. Can beers and bottles of vodkas placed on the table along with some snacks, while their instruments are set-up on a corner.

“He said that he was on a gig,” you stated, walking towards Sunghoon.

“Yeah, we just finished it earlier and he kinda insisted that we celebrate it,” Heeseung shrugs.

“He has the guts to drink his heart out and then not go to class the next day,” you muttered under breath as you lightly shake Sunghoon’s shoulder.

“He’s not gonna wake up anytime soon,” said another voice. “I’m Jay, and this is Jungwon.”

“Hi, sorry for the hassle,” the blonde boy said.

“I’m sorry for Sunghoon too, I feel like you guys always have to take care of him whenever he’s like this.”

“We’re used to it, no worries,” Jay assured.

“And that worries me more because he just doesn’t stop,” you pointed out. “You’ll end up tolerating his bad habits.”

No one said a thing. The three of them watched as you attempted to pull Sunghoon to sit up from his place, you were struggling but you were persistent.

They know how much you dislike Arcanum, seeing it as nothing but a university band who performs. Despite all of Sunghoon’s rants and complaints about you, the remaining three decided to be civil with you since they know that you’re going to be Sunghoon’s future wife.

“If that’s your worry, we don’t tolerate bad habits here,” Heeseung breaks the silence approaching you as he lifts Sunghoon on his shoulders, along with the other two who held his limbs.

“That’s not my only worry,” you whispered, Heeseung glances at you before proceeding to carry Sunghoon outside towards your car.

They set him neatly on the passenger seat, Sunghoon didn’t move nor made a sound as they put on his seatbelt. It’s safe to assume that he’s passed-out drunk and frustration is written all over your face. They weren’t that stupid to notice it, Sunghoon has lately become too attached with alcohol.

“You guys know that he’s studying medicine right? After college, he’s going to med school,” you asked them, who only glanced at each other, knowing that it’s the total opposite of what Sunghoon has been telling them.

“If he keeps going on like this, I don’t know what will happen to him in the future,” you said one last time before going inside your car and driving away from the place.

The silence was devouring, you kept on glancing at Sunghoon from time to time, checking if he had gained consciousness or not. You only tighten your hold on the steering wheel as you speeden your drive towards your place.

As you arrive at your house, that’s when you face the challenge of carrying Sunghoon inside your place. You opened the door of the passenger seat and lightly shake Sunghoon’s shoulder. He didn’t budge for a moment, that’s when you called out his name, shaking it harsher than before.

You watch as Sunghoon’s eyebrows knit, letting out a frustrated groan as he attempts to open his eyes.

“Get up now, we’re home,” you told him.

“y/n?” he asked before closing his eyes.

“Sunghoon! Wake up please!” you pleaded. But he didn’t move again, so you stood there, thinking about what to do with him. That’s when you used all your strength to swing his heavy arms around your shoulders but as soon as you attempted to pull him out of the car, he didn’t budge.

“Fucking hell,” you curse, removing his shoulder. This time, you shake his head while screaming his name. For a few seconds, he opens his eyes confused and drowsy.

“Just lean on me,” you instructed, you grabbed his shoulders once again and this time, Sunghoon managed to move on his own, leaning his huge body against yours. You could only groan as you helped him walk inside your house.

You didn’t even manage to reach his room, Sunghoon found himself stumbling in the living room — towards the couch where you couldn’t do anything but to fix his position. You left the living room and returned in a minute with a blanket and a pillow for him.

Gently, you place the pillow below his head and put the blanket on him. Then you stood there, eyes never leaving Sunghoon who’s sleeping now. You kneeled in front of him, brushing his messy bangs so that you could see his face closer.

“What am I going to do with you Hoon?” you whispered, eyes never leaving his face. Sunghoon looks so peaceful and gentle in his sleep — this is probably the only time you see him this peaceful.

A bitter smile escapes your lips because the more you look at him, the more it slowly sinks into you that tomorrow won’t be like this. “Goodnight Sunghoon,” you mumbled, patting his head one last time before returning to your room.

Your routine was disrupted when Sunghoon barged into the kitchen, angry and frustrated.

“Y/n!? What the fuck!?” you stopped your tracks, turning off the stove before turning around to see a disheveled and mad Sunghoon in front of you.

“Is there something wrong?” you asked.

“Don’t act so fucking innocent now, you know what you did,” Sunghood accused you.

“Maybe get straight to the point rather than pointing fingers on me,” you replied.

“You told my friends about med school,” he answered. “Now they think that Arcanum’s messing up my future.”

“Well isn’t it? Sunghoon, you really think that you’re going to play in that band forever?” you taunted. It’s been a few days since you had a talk with his band members. The following day that time, everything seems to be normal for you — not until now that Sunghoon had discovered it.

“What if I want to? What if I told you that I am not planning to go to med school and I want to perform instead?” he taunted back, stepping forward in front of you which made you step backward, trapping you between the kitchen counter.

“That’s not what’s planned Sunghoon,” you breathe, forehead creasing as you only stare at him dead. “You knew from the start, ever since we got engaged — engagement, college, marriage, then med school. That was the plan.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe things might change y/n? Maybe I want to perform now rather than take over my father’s business.”

“So you’ll be a disappointment?” you mocked. “You’ll go after your dream? Performing stupid songs and covers rather than repaying your parents’ efforts on you?”

“At least I know what I want, can’t say that to you since you can’t decide for yourself,” Sunghoon mocks.

A stinging pain burned on Sunghoon’s cheeks. It took him a minute to sink in what you just did, but he could only laugh mockingly as your eyes remained at him, wide but filled with anger. Your palms numbed as it rounded to conceal yourself from doing it again.

“At least I know what’s best for me, and you may not like it but we’re engaged Sunghoon, and I’m not going to let our future be ruined by some mere passion of yours,” you stated, gritting your teeth as your stare became cold.

Sunghoon didn’t say another word. His eyes speak for it that he’s angry, and he’s only controlling himself from hurting you despite the fact that you hurt him first. You could only stare at him, not attempting to back down.

But it was as if there’s an angel watching over you, the doorbell rang, indicating a visitor. The two of you turned your head towards the door, and before anyone could say another word, you pushed Sunghoon out of your way, walking towards the door and opening it.

“Wonyoung!?” you shouted, surprised to see your best friend.

“Surprise!” the girl shouted in glee, stretching her arms to pull you a hug which you dearly reciprocated.

“Oh my god, you’re here?” you asked, breaking out from the hug.

“I just got back from Milan and went straight here,” Wonyoung winks before she steps inside your house, your eyes following her as she goes to Sunghoon.

“Sunghoon! I miss you!” Wonyoung shouted, embracing Sunghoon who only reciprocated it.

“Long time no see, Wonnie,” Sunghoon gently said.

“It’s great — what happened to your face?” Wonyoung asked, seeing his left cheeks red.

“Bumped on a wall, but it doesn’t hurt,” Sunghoon lied, before glancing at you who only stared at him coldly.

Wonyoung seems to be convinced by it, laughing it off before pulling you two to a hug. Squealing how much she has missed you two — oblivious about the fight that happened just minutes ago.

“Do you want some drinks? Come on, sit down for a while,” Sunghoon insisted, ignoring you as he ushered Wonyoung towards the living room. You immediately noticed how Sunghoon’s face lit up, his smile becoming wider that his eyes turned into two curves — the first time in the many months that you saw Sunghoon’s genuine smile.

It wasn’t always you and Sunghoon ever since you two were kids — there were the three of you.

Wonyoung is a best friend of yours. A sister that you always needed. She’s a free-spirited girl who always indulges in fun even if it means getting the three of you in trouble.

Unlike you and Sunghoon, Wonyoung’s family is richer. She was rich enough to have a choice not to attend college and spend her parents’ money that won’t even dent their bank account. While you and Sunghoon are studying in Decelis, Wonyoung was traveling a lot, attending fashion weeks, and brand launches. Slowly, she became a well-known influencer and socialite that collaborates with well-known brands and walks for their runway. It was hard to get a glimpse of her, that’s why it surprised you that she’s here in the city.

“So, what brings you here instead of going back to our hometown?” you asked, placing the glass of juice in front of her.

“Mom and dad’s here, they’re actually planning on renewing their vows — oh by the way, you two are invited there and so are your parents, it’s an intimate event but you know them, they want it grandiose and perfect, so I have to help in organizing it,” Wonyoung diligently said. “And I miss you guys! It’s been like a year since we last hung out, hopefully I’m not intruding on whatever plans you have though.”

Talking about wrong timing. You thought. Everything is crumbling between you and Sunghoon but you don’t want Wonyoung to know about that, so you only gave her smile and said, “everything’s fine, a bit hectic because it’s senior year, but it’s a rare case that you’re here, so we’ll make time.”

Wonyoung only pouts, “you guys, I really miss you, seriously! I love my job but it gets lonely sometimes.”

“You can always go back to college,” Sunghoon teased, making Wonyoung glare at him.

“Ugh, you dumbass, if I returned to college, you guys would have already graduated!” Wonyoung whined while Sunghoon only laughed.

“Anyways, I just dropped by to show up to you guys, just tell me when you guys are free, maybe we could go out for dinner — oh, I wanted to see Decelis too! How’s that sound?” Wonyoung delightfully suggested.

“We’ll make time for you Won, just tell us when you’re free,” Sunghoon answered, making you glance at him.

Wonyoung only smiled at the answer. She told the two of you that she’s free all the time since there’s not much preparation going on. As she bid goodbye to you, you only gave her a short smile before she was walked out of the door by Sunghoon. Watching the two of them exchange banters before Sunghoon closes the door.

You stood up from your seat, ready to leave when Sunghoon cornered you immediately.

“You think we’re done? I’m not done yet y/n,” Sunghoon growled.

But you only gave him a bored smile, “Wonyoung’s here Hoon, can we just not do this? I don’t want her seeing us fight —”

“You care more about what others think of us huh? Of course, you don’t want everyone to see the ‘perfect daughter’ imperfect.”

“It’s seldom for us to see Wonnie, I don’t want her to think that our friendship is ruined, we’re the only one that she has,” you pointed out.

“Well, too bad for her, it’s already ruined, the moment both of us got engaged.” Sunghoon didn’t even let you say another word. He eventually went back to his room, slamming the door loudly like he always does.

You remained there standing, words deeply cutting through your mind. You looked at Sunghoon’s door once again, before heaving a sigh. The palm of your hand remained heavy, guilt swallowing you knowing that perhaps, you went too far this time.

Over the weekend, the three of you went out as per Wonyoung’s request. Going to a nearby mall where you three had brunch, played at the arcade, and even took photos at the photobooth. The whole day felt nice for you, it felt like you three are back as teens who would sneak out at night just to hangout and drive around town.

While you and Sunghoon are still not okay, a silent truce was made for Wonyoung. You two never tried to argue or fight whenever she’s around, and although it can be suffocating for the both of you, you two tried to act as normal as possible.

“I do wonder what would happen to us if I stayed and studied college,” Wonyoung ponders. The three of you decided to have ramen and convenience store snacks by the end of the day, opting to watch the sunset at a nearby park. It was Wonyoung’s request because she was curious what it feels like, seeing it on social media not knowing that this is also the first time you and Sunghoon had experienced it.

“What makes you think about that?” you asked.

Wonyoung only smiles, “you guys seem to be so secured with your future, becoming doctors and stuff, while me? I don’t know what I am doing.”

“You’re doing what you love,” Sunghoon butts in. “And that matters, you know? At least you love what you’re doing, not because it’ll secure you a good future.”

You know what Sunghoon was trying to say, but you remained quiet, watching as Wonyoung nodded at Sunghoon’s advice.

“You’re right, I do love the free pr packages and clothes,” Wonyoung jokes, laughing before pulling you two to a hug. “You guys are the best, hope nothing changes with the three of us.”

A meaningful glance was exchanged between you and Sunghoon. Not one said a word, only actions spoke as both of you embraced your best friend back.

The following week, Decelis University had a one-day event, cancelling academic activities which was an opportunity for you to invite Wonyoung to tour around Decelis. She arrived around three in the afternoon, hugging you and Sunghoon as she complained how organizing her parents’ renewal of vows became hectic, happy that she was able to relax for today.

The tour went on with ease, Wonyoung was curioused at the different department buildings of Decelis since its structure differed from others. Taking photos using her film camera which she used to take photos of the three of you too.

“So this is called the lover’s garden because lovers often come here?” Wonyoung asked, pointing at Decelis’ botanical garden which is actually for botany and biology students.

“More like a lover's hideaway, it’s pitch black there during night, I’m leaving up to your imagination what couples do there,” Sunghoon explains, a teasing smile on his lips as Wonyoung’s face distorted in disgust.

“Ew! Why can’t you guys book a hotel room or something,” she commented and yet, her camera was ready. “Oh well, might as well take a picture of both of you —”

“What?” you asked, appalled. “Won, we never did it.”

“And save myself from imagining you two banging, just stand in front of the entrance! You guys are a couple right? Come on now, you two don’t have a photo together!” Wonyoung insisted.

An exchange of glances was given, but before you could even complain once again, Sunghoon pulled you towards the entrance.

“Come on now, the more you complain, the more Wonyoung will insist,” Sunghoon boredly explained. You didn’t say a word, you stood there before facing the camera.

“Pose! You guys are so stiff, it’s like you two aren’t in love with each other,” Wonyoung taunted before preparing her camera again.

Funny because you two aren’t at all. But no protest was made when Sunghoon swings his arms around your shoulder before pulling you closer. You can feel your heart skip a beat, but it was immediately reminded by your mind. The more you complain, the more Wonyoung insists. Sunghoon did it so that it can be finished early, so you fake a smile as Wonyoung clicks the button.

She stares at the screen, smiles wide as she looks at you two, “you guys are perfect for each other.”

“Very funny Won,” you sarcastically replied.

After the endless walking and tour, you three stumbled at your building’s cafeteria, buying drinks as Wonyoung is still in awe about your university, totally immersing herself with your college life.

“What about dinner? I’m pretty sure you guys have a lot of good eateries around,” Wonyoung suggested, it was five-thirty in the afternoon, the sun was almost setting which meant that it's time for early dinner for most students.

“You guys can go on,” Sunghoon said, standing from his seat. “I have to go, I have a gig.”

You internally scoff, even if Wonyoung’s here, Sunghoon couldn’t bear to miss his band’s gig.

“Wait, can we watch?” Wonyoung excitedly asked, making the two of you look at her.

“Ask y/n if she wants to,” Sunghoon bitterly said, and you only looked away from him, rolling your eyes.

“What? You haven’t seen Sunghoon’s gig?” your best friend asked, confused before gazing her eyes back to Sunghoon.

Your lips tightened, “I’m busy…I don’t have time —”

“Then this is a great time to watch his gig! Come on!”

You weren’t able to object, Wonyoung was so excited that it only left you quiet as she pulled you away from your seat.

Arcanum’s weekly gig was held at The Rabbit Hole — a mixture of coffee shop and bar lounge under Decelis University’s funding. The place was cozy, designed with vintage interiors with a small stage place in the end. This is the first time you went to that place, almost surprised to see that it’s full of people; locals, students, and probably fans of Arcanum crowded the small establishment.

You and Wonyoung find yourself at a table for two far from the stage but enough to see their performance. Sunghoon excuses himself as he went to the back room where it serves as Arcanum’s waiting room.

“Do you even know that Sunghoon plays in the band?” Wonyoung jokes, eyes never leaving the menu on her hand.

“I do, I just don’t have time to watch his performance,” you half-lied. The truth is, you never tried to find time to watch their performance. For what? You always say to Sunghoon whenever he invites you to his gig, you rather spend the time studying or doing something much important for you.

“Well I’m glad I’m here because we’re going to watch him perform!” your best friend giggled, you only gave her a small smile before glancing at the menu once again.

While waiting for your food to arrive, you noticed how the place slowly became full to the point that there weren’t any tables left and some people opted to stand instead. Your eyes never left the crowd, wondering if this is the usual situation to Arcanum’s gig.

Around seven in the evening, your food arrived but you were startled when the crowd started screaming — mostly girls of course, making you shift your attention at the stage.

There they were, Arcanum. The four-member band of Decelis University. They changed their school uniform with a casual street-style outfit. Your eyes fixated on Sunghoon who’s wearing a football jersey, pairing it with a huge chain necklace and cargo pants.

You watch as he busies himself with his keyboard — the instrument that he bought by saving up his allowance. You remember how he excitedly unboxed it in the living room, even testing it out while you sat on the couch reviewing for your midterm exams. Somehow, he was careful with it, caring for it like it’s his own child.

“Wow, we have a full house tonight!” your attention immediately caught on Heeseung who’s in the center, holding a bass guitar as his smile was wide and gleaming. Screams can be heard from the crowd, a fangirl even shouted “I love you Heeseung!” which only made the vocalist chuckle.

“Before that, let’s have a crowd check don’t we? Who's here for the first time?” Heeseung asked, raising his hands which a few in the crowd followed.

“Us! It’s our first time!” you were startled when Wonyoung shouted loudly, standing up from her seat as she grabbed your hands and raised it together with hers — caughting Heeseung’s attention, an evident smirk on the male’s lips can be seen.

“Oh? I am seeing familiar faces here, do we Hoon?” the vocalist teased, Sunghoon only smirked as he crossed his arms.

“I have to impress my guests, so you better do your best Hee,” Sunghoon nonchalantly replied before glancing at the two of you. Eyes immediately locking on yours as he raised his eyebrow knowingly — like he was telling you that he was meant to be there, performing.

“Well better set the mood right, come on guys,” with that, Heeseung signals the band and at the count of three, they start playing synchronically.

The crowd started screaming. You can see it, how synergized they were. They weren’t just there to perform, they were also having fun. The way Heeseung interacted with the crowd along with Jay, making the small stage as his own. He then stands in front of the microphone stand, singing the first line of a song unfamiliar to you.

“The vocalist sounds so good!” you hear Wonyoung exclaim and you only nod at her words, it is true that Heeseung was good, but your eyes darted to Sunghoon.

There he was, blending in the background along with Jungwon who’s at the drums, but compared to the junior, Sunghoon wasn’t banging his head as the drumsticks slammed against the drums. He wasn’t like Heeseung who controls the crowd, nor Jay who’s rocking his electric guitar like crazy.

Sunghoon was there like a quiet mystery, a controlled relaxed expression as he immersed himself with playing the keyboard, a few head nods as his chords synchronised with others. You could only blink, deja vu hitting you all of the sudden — you remember the first time you saw Sunghoon.

He bores the same expression that he had back when he was young. Your gaze locked on him, not noticing how your eyes met each other, but quickly, Sunghoon looked away and continued playing. Something inside you was burning, strangely your heart was beating like crazy as you watched Sunghoon perform.

You didn’t even notice that the song was finished. The crowd applauded and cheered for them, Heeseung jokingly bows before asking if the crowd wants some more.

Throughout the whole gig, your eyes never left Sunghoon. Throughout their whole performance, you watch him change his expression more than the duration that you two had lived together, but all only fell into one conclusion — Sunghoon was happy to perform. You can see it from the way he was serious while playing the keyboard up to the way he joked with his bandmates, letting out small laughter and eye smiles throughout the small break.

The gig ends around nine in the evening. As they stepped down from the stage, people swarmed them excitedly. Asking for pictures and small talks. You watch as Sunghoon happily accepts his fans’ request, taking pictures with them, which made Wonyoung laugh, knowing that Sunghoon can be awkward with strangers.

“Congrats! You guys are so awesome!” Wonyoung exclaimed as soon as Sunghoon approached you two.

“Thanks Won,” Sunghoon quietly said, before glancing at you. A moment of silence hovered between the two of you before Wonyoung nudged you.

“You did great,” you told him, giving him a small smile afterwards.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, surprised by your words. You only looked away, embarrassed while Sunghoon’s gaze remained at you.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“It’s nothing Hoon,” you quickly turned down.

The night ended with the three of you remaining at The Rabbit Hole for some light dinner and drinks. Sunghoon introduced Arcanum to you and Wonyoung once again, and it wasn’t a surprise that Wonyoung got along with them easily. You remain quiet throughout the night, listening to their conversation while you only take your space at the end of the table — knowing that you don’t relate to them at all.

Around eleven in the evening, you drop Wonyoung off to the hotel where she was staying, reminding you about her parents’ second wedding before bidding you two goodbye. The drive back to your home was quiet, an awkward atmosphere that both of you couldn’t comprehend. You can feel Sunghoon’s glance at you at every minute but you chose to ignore it, too tired to give it a meaning.

“Do you mean it?” The moment you two stepped inside the living room, Sunghoon broke the tension between you two.

You only turned around, a bored gaze staring at him but he remained unfazed.

“Do you mean what you said earlier?” he asked, merely audible like he was embarrassed to ask you that.

For a moment you ponder. You wanted to tell him that it reminds you from the time that you two first met. Like the Sunghoon who you grew up with — but your mind stopped you. What for? If you told him that, it meant that he was right, he’s much better to be a keyboardist than a doctor. That means you accept his passion.

“I wish you could’ve put that same energy in your studies,” so you told him that instead. A cold statement that your mind won’t stop reminding him.

From there, you saw how the small hope in his eyes faded, followed by bitter laughter escaping from his lips. “Why did I even bother asking you again.”

He passes by you, like you’re nothing but a ghost, going straight to his room while you left there standing alone, guilt slowly growing in your heart.

The second wedding of Wonyoung’s parents was extravagant just like what your best friend said. A small private reception was held at a banquet of a five-star hotel after their renewal at a small hall nearby. Flowers filled the white crystallized hall, something straight out of a royalty. You could only awe as you entered the place, arms clutched at Sunghoon who merely spoke throughout the day.

“Sunghoon, y/n! Glad to see you two!” Mrs. Jang approached you two with a hug and kiss, you only smiled at the woman who’s like a mother to you.

“Congratulations auntie, the vows were so sweet, I almost cried!” you said, making the woman laugh.

“I bet you’ll write better vows than me,” she winks. “Both your parents have been talking about retirement and taking care of their grandkids from you two — gosh! You two are still young! I told them.”

You only stifled a laugh to hide the awkwardness, Mrs. Jang only gave your arms a small squeeze, glancing at you and Sunghoon once again. “You two still have a long way to go, I hope you two won’t give up on each other.”

You became quiet for a minute, but immediately, you gave her a smile before nodding. “Of course, thank you auntie.”

Mrs. Jang excused herself to entertain other guests, so you took the opportunity to find your assigned seat where you and Sunghoon sat. Wonyoung was busying herself with the event organizer, you can see the stress on her face but she always lights up whenever she passes the two of you, promising you two that she’ll make it up to you two later.

It didn’t take too long for both of your parents to arrive. You and Sunghoon welcomed them with greetings and hugs, and it was obvious in their face that they were so happy to see you two together.

“Look at you two, you two are like a match made in heaven!” Mrs. Park compliments, you only chuckle at her words.

“I can hear the wedding bells already! What do you think sweetie? Will this be a great reception for your wedding?” your mother suggested.

“Mom please, let’s not talk about that right now,” you awkwardly said.

“It’s going to happen anyways,” your mother insisted. “But I do hope you two are doing well in your studies.”

“Of course, everything is going well auntie,” it was Sunghoon who answered, making you glance at him. Faking a smile to your mother who only pats his shoulders with glee.

“Well, that’s glad to hear,” your father answered. “I heard that you two will be attending Decelis Medical School. The passing rate is small there, I’m not scaring you two, just trying to remind you two.”

“Dad, we’ll be fine, put trust in the two of us,” you assured.

“Everyone’s expecting from the two of you,” Mr. Park added. “Families, friends, colleagues, everyone. They say there’s no couple who will have a better life than you two.”

Somehow, that only puts more weights on your shoulder. They’re still expecting, and you don’t know what to say to them, hence, you only put a fake smile as an awkward chuckle escapes your lips.

“Of course,” Sunghoon answers casually like he wasn’t the one who’s actually ruining the whole engagement. “Can you excuse us for a moment? I would like to dance y/n.”

“Oh, such a sweetheart! Of course, you don’t need to tell us that,” Mrs. Park insisted.

Sunghoon only glances at you, offering his right hand to you, which you only accepted. You knew that he didn’t actually want to dance with you, it’s just an excuse for you two to escape the conversations with both your parents before it gets worse.

But it leads you two to an even more awkward atmosphere. Your head low as you ignore Sunghoon’s stare that has you melting like ice. Right hand clasps to each other while your other hand is on his shoulder, as his other hand is on your waist, holding you dearly as you two dance along with other couples on the circle.

It felt orchestrated, stiff like two robots forced to dance. You could only listen to the music as you follow Sunghoon’s steps.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said.

“Rather have this than straight-up lie to our parents,” he said, which only made you bitterly laugh.

“You don’t need to lie if you weren’t fucking around,” that’s when you look at him, trying to remove his hold when he tugs you closer. His eyes bore nothing but coldness, while yours was intense, filled with annoyance.

“Everyone’s watching us,” Sunghoon whispered. “You’re not going to make a mess aren’t you?”

“Why would I make a mess at someone’s wedding? That’ll be shameful Hoon,” you stated the obvious. “I’ll be surprised if you’re the one who’ll make a scene.”

“Of course, you always think that I’ll do something like that,” he replied.

“With all the bullshits and mess you’ve been doing lately, it doesn’t surprise me at all,” you gave him a knowing smile. His hold on you tightens, squeezing your hands and you’re convinced that a mark on your waist will bloom the following day. But you didn’t want to back down, your eyes remained at him as you two continued to dance.

The song ended after what feels like an eternity. Immediately, you and Sunghoon stopped, making you remove his hold from you before giving him another bitter smile.

“I need a drink, excuse me,” you said, leaving him standing there.

You remained on the champagne section, lightly sipping the drink which you internally wince. You’re not used to alcoholic drinks but tonight feels like you needed it — maybe two or three, because you honestly don’t know what to do with your life.

The event, supposedly an event where everyone witnessed a renewal of love, made you sick rather than feel romantic. Everything’s suffocating, knowing that you’re the only one who knows about Sunghoon’s rebellion and you can’t do nothing about him while that asshole still managed to put up a show and spew lies to both your parents.

On your fourth glass, the song suddenly changed into a bright, lively one. A disco song from the 80s that had people in gowns and tuxedos dance drunkenly. And yet, you remained in the corner, watching the crowd even seeing your parents were on the dance floor too, you stifled a laugh because they were probably reminiscing about their youth.

From there, you caught a glimpse of them. You placed down the glass, stepping forward to see the two of them dancing.

Sunghoon and Wonyoung. They weren’t not only dancing, but they were laughing too. You watch as the two of them dance, copying each other’s steps, synchronising as they sing along the song. You stood there, frozen. Your eyes never leave them, watching how Sunghoon twirled Wonyoung — like they’re in their own world.

Your fist turned round, nails digging on your palm as you tried to control yourself. Something about them brewed something in you. An unexplainable feeling that you don’t want to acknowledge. Watching them hold hands as they spun along to the music, while you remained nailed to a corner, your stomach wrenched into a weird feeling. — then it hit you. Everything makes sense now.

That’s it. You didn’t think twice anymore. You went back to your table, grabbing the purse you brought and without looking back, you quietly exited the party.

You found yourself inside the restroom, locking yourself inside as you tried to control your breathing. Closing your eyes, you tried to relax — but the scene earlier just keeps on replaying in your mind. Your hold on the sink tightens, almost scraping your nails against the marble texture.

As much as you want to insist that you and Sunghoon are already arranged to marry each other, Sunghoon is far from being yours.

This has always been a marriage of convenience. You always remind that to yourself. Yet, there’s not a day where you wish that Sunghoon would see you differently. That you wish that he sees the reason why you’re doing everything for him. But from what you witnessed earlier, you realized that his heart beats for someone else.

All hopes lost. The signs are there. How can you let someone be married to you when he yearns for another? Everything you’ve done for him crumbled in an instant. Wasted and useless, because not only were your feelings devastated, but you also ruined your friendship with him.

For the first time, you accept your own defeat. You stared at the mirror, seeing your reflection disgusted you. A spiraling feeling where as you stare at her, all you can see is a deceitful girl who was too selfish and prideful — wondering, if this is all Sunghoon can see in you.

With a heavy heart, you left the restroom, walking towards the empty hallway when someone called your name. You turned around to see him standing there. Your heart skipped a beat but it’s all because of the nervousness that you were feeling.

“Where did you go?” Sunghoon asked, approaching you but you walked away further, not until he grabbed you by your arms.

“Let me go Sunghoon,” you coldly said, which made Sunghoon let go.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, I thought you’re not going to make a scene?” he sarcastically stated, making you roll your eyes, seeing that it’s just you and him in the hallway.

“Says the guy who made a scene earlier,” you mocked.

It took a minute for Sunghoon to process what you said, eyebrows knitted as he looked at you with anger. “There’s nothing wrong with dancing with Wonyoung.”

You took a deep breath before facing him. “You like Wonyoung,”

There it is, the heavy feeling that you’ve been holding in ever since your best friend had returned.

You can see it. You’re not dumb to not observe it. Still, it hurts as much as you want to avoid it, you couldn’t ignore the way Sunghoon’s eyes light up whenever he talks to Wonyoung. How his voice becomes soft and gentle — something that he has never done to you, and never will he.

Tonight was the final nail. As you watch them dance together, it's hard to ignore that something was sparkling between the two of them, and you hate that the truth is there is. They would make such a better couple, a healthier couple if you must say.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sunghoon asked, appalled.

“You can’t fool me Sunghoon, you like Wonyoung, I can see the way you look at her, like she’s everything to you,” you explained, and every word bites you, hurting you slowly like a venom trailing on your blood.

“I don’t like her,” Sunghoon confessed, and yet, he only stares at you deadpan. “But if I had the choice, I’ll marry her instead.”

For a moment you were quiet, then, a bitter laugh escaped your lips because the statement hurts more than Sunghoon actually having feelings for your best friend. “You really hate me, don’t you?”

“Hate is such a deep word y/n, I don’t hate you, we are just too different,” Sunghoon explained.

“I guess you and Wonyoung are much more similar to each other then,” you mocked.

“She supports my passion. She understands where I am coming from,” Sunghoon pointed out. “Something you never attempt to do.”

You only let out a deep sigh before staring at him one last time. You can feel it, the thumping beat of your heart, the short clasps of your breathing as you could only grasp on your hand tightly.

“If that’s the case Sunghoon, let's just end this engagement, nothing good will come out of this.”

Sunghoon looks at you confused, surprised that those words came out of your mouth. “What —”

“Hoon, I give up.” you confessed. “I am done cleaning up your mess, convincing you to focus on becoming a doctor while you go around playing in the band, getting drunk, and here you are, blatantly lying to your parents, acting like everything’s normal.”

“And who asked you to do that for me? No one, right? Admit it y/n, you’re just scared because the perfect life that you’ve planned was gone.” Sunghoon pointed out.

“You’re right Sunghoon, that’s why let’s stop this engagement. I don’t want to be married to a guy like you, and clearly you don’t want to marry me either.”

Sunghoon gives you a mocking smile. “A guy like me? Like I didn’t know your feelings for me, y/n,”

“The Sunghoon that I loved was the one who was diligent, dedicated, and nice. The one who was excited to study in Decelis to become a doctor. The one who makes me smile and cares for me. Not the drunkard asshole who’s chasing after a dream because suddenly, your life revolves around playing in the band.” you confessed, glaring at him one last time before walking away.

But it didn’t take Sunghoon a minute to reach after you, grabbing your arms and pulling you closer.

“You really think you can walk away from all of this?” Sunghoon demanded, which made you scoff.

“What is your problem!? Shouldn’t you be happy? You’re free now!” you shouted, pushing him on his chest, making him step backward and letting you go. That’s when you felt your body weakening, you could only hold on your knees as you felt something wet streaming down your eyes. You softly tap your eyes, not noticing how fast the tears streamed down your face.

This is the probably the first time you cried. You never cried when you fell from your bicycle. You never cried when you went second place on the honor’s list. You never cried when your parents lecture you. Crying is a sign of weakness for you and you know yourself, that you’re not weak.

You wanted to curse everything but only a mocking laugh was all you could do. You hated yourself for being vulnerable for a split second — that you cried because of Sunghoon. Of all the reasons that made you cry, it really has to be him.

That’s when you stood up, glancing at Sunghoon whose eyes widened to see your watery eyes. He tries to approach you but you only look away. That’s when you turned around, running towards the exit and leaving Sunghoon there frozen.

As soon as you reached your place, you went straight to your room and locked it. You leaned against the door as you deeply exhaled — but that’s where the first outburst came. You dropped to your knees, hands covering your face as you continued to wail. It goes on for so long until your breathing becomes slow, hiccups accompanying every sob that you leave your mouth.

You don’t feel anything but pain. It hurts. Everything just fucking hurts you. Watching Sunghoon be happy with someone else. Knowing the fact that he doesn’t want to marry you, and the dream of your perfect life was shattered in just a blink of the night.

Everything that you planned is now nowhere to be found. You hated that it all led to this mess, blaming yourself because maybe, there’s some ways where you could’ve prevented it. Maybe you shouldn’t have given up, this may be just a moment of weakness but hearing those words from Sunghoon, tells you that there’s no hope for everything to be fixed.

Now that everything is done, you could only grab your phone, and as you open it. Your mother’s caller id jumped on the screen. You stared at it for a good minute, but the thought of your mother being disappointed that you and Sunghoon fought, worse, you broke off the engagement scared you.

So you blocked her number and quickly dialled a number.

“Y/n? Hello?” Yizhuo’s sleepy voice answered.

“I’m sorry Ning but I need to crash into your place —”

“What, why? What happen —”

“I broke it off with Sunghoon.” you said, biting your lips to prevent the tears from falling again.

“What the fuck y/n!? Grabbing my keys right now, stay right there and I’m speeding to your place, give me ten minutes!” Yizhuo shouts.

The call hung-up immediately, which was your sign. You grabbed all the important stuff that you need. Your books, notes, a few clothes and a few toiletries that’ll last you. You still have a few months left before the semester ends, all you need to do is focus on your studies — if you fail to have a perfect marriage, you’re not letting your dream of becoming a doctor slip away too.

Dragging the luggage with you, you hear the car horn and as you step outside, you see the familiar white car Yizhuo owns.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Yizhuo said, grabbing your luggage and placing it on the back seat. You only sit in the passenger seat as you wait for your friend to enter the driver’s seat.

“You okay?” Yizhuo asked, gently patting your shoulder.

Tears started streaming down your face, you could only sob as your best friend pulled you for a hug.

“He’s not worth it y/n, you deserve someone better,” Yizhuo insisted as she broke out from the hug. “I know it’s hard for you because you love him, but are you really going to settle for less? If he truly cares for you, he’ll understand your side despite disliking the idea but he didn’t.”

You could only nod at her words, “I know, I give up Ning. I’m tired, he said he doesn’t want to marry me, so everything is useless.”

“He’s going to regret letting you go,” Yizhuo swore, starting the engine before patting your shoulder once again. “You can stay in my apartment as long as you want, don’t worry about anything, I got you in this one,” Yizhuo only smiled as you drove away from the place, and as you glanced at the rearview mirror, there it was — Sunghoon’s car.

You don’t know if he saw you leaving the place, but as you felt your phone vibrating and saw his name on your screen, you only closed your phone and glanced at the window of the car, staring at the places that you pass by, thinking that what you did was for your own good too.

Days after the party, you returned to Decelis University acting like everything’s normal.

You still did your routine, minimizing some tasks since you’re living under Yizhuo’s place and you don’t want to intrude furthermore. You had plans on renting a place on your own but it’ll be a few months until your semester break. This temporary housing of yours is better than enduring living with Sunghoon.

You still don’t know how to approach your parents with the situation, afraid that it might disappoint them, though your reason wherein it’s not your fault at all is strong, you’re still scared because you just ruin everything they have planned for you.

You only sent a short message to your father that you need time to think, before blocking his phone number too. You know that a lecture will await you, but for now, all you want is space from them. You wanted to focus on your goal without their expectations heaving on your back.

You continued going to your class. Preparations for the Decelis medical school entrance exam are near, and you’re multitasking your time doing your studies and reviewing for the exam. Despite the heavy pressure it had instilled, everything felt light for you, you felt your shoulders becoming lighter and your worries seemed to be fading day by day — perhaps it’s because you’re not worrying about Sunghoon anymore.

Sunghoon on the other hand, you don’t have any news about him. He doesn’t go to your classes either. It looks like he had made up his mind about his life, and whatever he does, you could only wish him good luck.

As you exit the department building, you hear a familiar voice calling out your name, turning around, your eyes immediately widened at the figure.

“Wonyoung, what are you doing here?” you asked, approaching your best friend who’s sitting on the gazebo in front of your department building.

“I’m sorry,” she started. “I’m sorry for ruining what you and Sunghoon had, but listen to me y/n, I don’t like Sunghoon, I treat him like a brother the same way I treat you like a sister. What he said to you was so fucking stupid.”

“You knew?” you asked, surprised.

“I went to your house the next day but Sunghoon’s the only one there. Everyone was worried y/n! They thought you two eloped, you disappeared without saying any word that night, plus you blocked auntie’s phone number.” Wonyoung explained.

“I’m sorry, I just — I needed space, my mind’s all over the place, but Wonyoung, I’m not mad at you, it’s not your fault anyway.”

“Sunghoon told me you broke off the engagement,” Wonyoung said. “Is it because of what he said?”

“He made it clear that he doesn’t want to marry me, so what’s the use Won?”

“You’re giving up now?” she asked. “You used to be persistent, y/n what happened?”

“Even I get tired sometimes, Won. Sunghoon…he’s a hopeless case. No matter how hard I tried to help him, he just didn't want my help.”

“He’s a mess right now, you know that?” Wonyoung stated. “He’s been looking for you.”

You halted because of Wonyoung’s words, but quickly, you threw her a bitter smile. “He has always been a mess Won,” you replied. “I’m just tired of picking up after him.”

Wonyoung merely nods, giving you a pitied smile as she brushes your hair, “I understand where you’re coming from y/n, I know it was also hard for you to decide to break the engagement.”

“Hopefully, it’ll pass,” you said softly. “You’re still going to be my maid of honor no matter who I’m going to marry.”

That made Wonyoung chuckle, which made you laugh, you hugged her once again and as you felt her arms wrapping around you, you felt relief.

You never wanted jealousy to corrupt your mind, but sometimes you couldn’t help but be insecure at how Wonyoung and Sunghoon’s relationship remained the same while him and yours disappeared in a glimpse. You know that Wonyoung’s not at fault in this one, everything was just a matter of fallout.

“Since you’re here already, why don’t we go out for dinner? Oh, I’ll introduce you to Ning! You’ll love her!” you suggested, immediately changing the topic.

“I’ve been dying to meet her!” Wonyoung replied, immediately tugging you so that you two can meet your other friend.

Turns out Wonyoung and Yizhuo are a two deadly duo. You were half-regretting introducing them to each other because now, they were insisting on going out for the night.

“Come on now, you don’t have any class for tomorrow and you should relieve your stress,” Yizhuo insisted.

“Really y/n? You’re going to graduate college without experiencing going out with your friends and partying? It’s a good thing I’m here because I am not taking a no for an answer,” Wonyoung added.

You only roll your eyes, “you know that clubs aren’t my thing.”

“That’s because you never experienced it! Come on now, you should loosen yourself up just for one night,” Yizhuo explained. “Please, you said you need space right? Why not relax? Just for tonight, forget about your parents, their expectations, and your studies. We’ll make it worth it.”

You only stared at the two of them, both with pleading eyes as they clasp their hands together. Another roll in your eyes was made but there’s a small smile on your face. “Fine, if I passed-out drunk, you guys take care of me.”

Both squealed in agreement, excited as Wonyoung fished out her phone to make a reservation at a famous club in the city center, while Yizhuo immediately dragged you towards the parking lot where her car is parked, excited to go home so that you can change into something daring (she said) and party all night.

The club was full by the time the three of you arrived, Wonyoung strutted on the small walkway, excusing the strangers as she held your hand while Yizhuo’s behind you, guiding your way towards your table.

A small table for three was reserved for you, a bottle of tequila with lemon and salt was arranged neatly there. As soon as you three reached the place, you immediately sat on the couch while Yizhuo opened the bottle.

“I hope you know how to take a shot,” she teasingly said as she poured the shot glass full.

“I know how to, you’re making me like I’m such a nerd that doesn’t go out of her house,” you insisted.

“She drinks, she just doesn’t like going out to clubs,” Wonyoung whispered to Yizhuo who glanced at you while you boredly raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re going to change that, cheers!” Yizhuo shouts, raising the glass which you and Wonyoung copied. The first shot of tequila went straight down on your throat, leaving a burning feeling downwards your chest which made you sneer for a second.

Shot after shot, you lost count the amount of times the three of you took a shot, the tequila bottle is almost half. Your mind has become hazy, spinning but you can manage it. All you can hear is the loud music coming from the speakers, the dj playing Taylor Swift’s songs which was so fucking random and yet, you didn’t care. You were singing your lungs out along with Wonyoung and Yizhuo who are also tipsy.

“Let’s hit the dance floor!” Yizhuo suggested when the song changed to some edm music, the three of you squeezed yourself on the dance floor, dancing and singing along as you bumped onto a few people, giving them smiles and small apologies while never stopping dancing.

You never felt more alive. You didn’t care what would happen tomorrow, all you cared about was that you’re having fun with the two girls that treat you like your sister. They were right, this is what you need and you’re just so happy that you agreed to go out with them.

That’s why you pulled them closer together, “I love you guys!” you shouted, which only made them laugh.

“Oh my gosh, she’s the emotional type of drunk,” Yizhuo giggled.

“She only says that when she’s drunk, so savor it,” Wonyoung replied, hugging you back. “I love you too!” making the three of you squeal together before breaking out to continue dancing.

You only let your body sway along with the music, not noticing a hand wrapping around your waist and as you turn around, you see a guy your age, smiling at you as he hands you his shot glass.

“No thank you,” you smiled, “I already have one.”

But he only laughed, “there’s no harm in having another one.”

You only let out a small giggle as you shrug, taking the shot and drinking it straight. You can hear his cheer, along with some guys that you’re unfamiliar with. You failed to notice Yizhuo and Wonyoung whereabouts as you continued to dance with the stranger.

“You come here often?” he asked, and you only shook your head.

“It’s too crowded here!” you shouted back. The place was getting hotter, crowds becoming bigger as the guy’s body became way too close to you.

“Crowded huh? Do you want to go somewhere less crowded?”

Maybe it was the alcohol — you don’t know, your head’s spinning and everything has become blurry to you, but all you can remember was that you nod at his answer. “Okay! I’m just going to tell my friends I’m leaving.”

“Alright sweetheart.” he smirked, his hold from your waist loosened.

You tried to find your friends, but your mind is spinning — you couldn’t even remember where your table was. Your head searched sideways, when you felt a tug on your arm, making you turn around.

“She’s not going with you,” Sunghoon said with a cold tone.

“Dude fuck off, go pick some other girls around here,” the stranger tried to pull you away but Sunghoon was fast, immediately backing you behind him.

“She’s my fiance, if you don’t want any trouble, get lost,” Sunghoon warns.

“Fuck off Sunghoon,” you rebutted, shaking your grip away from Sunghoon who was surprised by your action. “We’re through, remember?”

The stranger chuckled, “she doesn’t even want you here, so fuck off, will ya?”

But it didn’t take a split second for Sunghoon to hit him on the face. His fist landing directly on the nose which made the stranger stumble down.

Everyone was surprised when the guy fell on the ground, immediately stepping out from the fight. Sunghoon attempted to give the guy another punch but Heeseung and Jay managed to grab him. You didn’t process everything until you felt Wonyoung and Yunjin were behind you.

“What happened — Sunghoon!” Wonyoung shrieks. The stranger stood up from the ground, but Sunghoon was quick to get away from his friend and charge towards him, landing another punch, and if it wasn’t enough, he landed another, this time harder.

It didn’t take a minute for the bouncers to enter the scene, separating the two of them. You weren’t able to understand anything, all you know was that your friends pulled you out of the club along with Sunghoon and his friends.

“Dude calm down,” Heeseung said trying to keep his friend still but Sunghoon pulled away, almost jabbing his friend who only stepped back with hands raised.

“How can I fucking calm down when y/n almost got in danger tonight!?” he pointed out.

“You almost killed someone!” Jay shouted, trying to get a grip on Sunghoon but he got pushed away too.

“He should be lucky because I hold back a little bit,” Sunghoon sarcastically laughs. “He deserves it, the way he looked at y/n? I know he has bad intentions.”

“Stop caring Sunghoon!” you shouted, senses finally hitting you. “So what if I’ll go with that guy? We’re done, remember? I can meet whoever I like.”

“I don’t care if we’re through, you couldn’t even take care of yourself. What the fuck are you even doing at a club?” Sunghoon lectured.

That’s when you scoff, “just because you can have fun, doesn’t me I can.”

“Oh, so that’s your idea of fun? Getting drugged by a stranger and who knows what they’ll do to you — fucking careless,” Sunghoon lets out a deep sigh, his anger heightening as he glared at Wonyoung.

“If it wasn’t for me, she would’ve been in danger tonight, what the hell Won!?” Sunghoon angrily lectures.

“Sunghoon stop blaming us, we were there and we were just letting y/n have fun, we’re not that stupid to let her go with that guy. You just really have to interfere first,” Wonyoung explained, forehead creased with anger.

Sunghoon could only roll his eyes, groaning as he frustratedly brushed his hair. “This is fucking stupid, you three aren’t even safe there!”

“Just go home Sunghoon,” you shouted once again, making him glance at you. “You’re ruining our night for fuck’s sake.”

But in a split second, Sunghoon pulls you away from Yizhuo, and before you could say another thing, he grabs you by your knees and swings you on his shoulders, your upper body bumping on his back.

“Sunghoon! Put me down!” you shouted, punching his back but Sunghoon remained unfazed, he then glanced at his friends who were surprised by his action.

“No one follows, this is between the two of us,” Sunghoon warned before he walked towards his car.

You tried to struggle your way out of his hold, but Sunghoon’s too strong for you. He managed to put you in the passenger seat, even putting on the belt on you.

“Sunghoon —”

“Stop struggling y/n, we’ll go home now.”

“Sunghoon, what fuck is wrong with you? We’re done, how many times do I have to tell you that!?” you shouted at him. “You’re suffocating me.”

“And so do I with you, but we can’t always have what we want.” Sunghoon stated, slamming the door of the car. You weren’t able to say another word, not knowing what he meant by that.

The drive towards your place was quiet yet tense, you could only close your eyes as the throbbing feeling in your head started to become worse. You had too many to drink but all you know that what the guy gave you was just a normal shot. If it would’ve been drugged, then you should’ve been passed-out by now.

As Sunghoon parked the car inside, you could only stare at the entrance of the house. You do miss your house but there’s a deep feeling of pain lingering in your heart as it reminds you of Sunghoon. You didn’t even notice that Sunghoon had opened the door for you, and you mindlessly left the car.

Entering the living room, you only stood there as you stare at the place — Sunghoon had maintained it clean even though you left, surprising you since you spent your mornings cleaning the house.

You can hear the door closing, softly Sunghoon’s footsteps approach you but he stops midway. That’s when you realized how suffocating the emptiness the house had.

“What is this Sunghoon?” you immediately asked, not even bothering looking at him.

“I just took you home,” Sunghoon simply said and you wanted to laugh. Home. you knew that home meant a lively house with a loving family, not a tense one with a broken engagement.

“Sunghoon, since it still hasn’t sunk in your mind, our engagement is done, isn’t that what you want?” you repeated.

“Well, did you even tell that to your parents?” Sunghoon asked casually. “My parents don’t know it yet.”

You didn’t answer and Sunghoon immediately knew.

“Of course you haven’t,” he teased. “That technically means we’re still engaged to each other.”

You only closed your eyes, trying to compose yourself as you felt conflicted. “I don’t understand you Sunghoon, what do you even want? You made it very clear back then that you’d prefer to marry Wonyoung instead of me. Why bring me here again!?”

“I don’t know,” Sunghoon confessed. “It’s just…it’s so lonely here.”

“I’m not a doll that you can keep,” you heaved.

“I miss you.” he breathes, and your eyes widen but you could only let out a bitter laugh.

“Suddenly you miss me? Sunghoon the last time you told me, you don’t want to marry me. Shouldn’t you be happy that we’re done.”

“That doesn’t equate to the fact that I don’t want to call off the engagement,” he stated.

“You’re confusing me Sunghoon, stand your ground, you don’t want to marry me but you don’t want the engagement to be broken? What do you even want?”

“I was hoping that your mind might change,” Sunghoon said, almost pleading. “That somewhere in you, there’s that girl who first recognized my talent.”

Silence. You weren’t able to say another word. Slowly, you turned around to see him standing there. His gaze at you gentle and pleading, far different from the looks he gave to you.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Sunghoon told you. “Do you remember what you told me?”

Of course. “You have a talent for playing the piano!” you recalled. It was the first thing you said when both your parents introduced you to Sunghoon. It didn’t sinked into you that those words of your younger self would stick in Sunghoon’s mind.

“When I first joined the band, I thought you’ll be supportive because you’re the first one to recognize my love for playing the piano, but nothing,” Sunghoon chuckles bitterly. “I was hoping that someday, you would understand why I am chasing after my passion. That’s why I was so happy that you watched our performance that night — but you’re too stuck in that dream of yours to recognize it.”

“It’s not just a dream Hoon, it's what's expected from me, and being a doctor, that’s what’s also expected from you.”

“Have you ever thought of what you want? Are you just going to wake up everyday, listen to your parents’ expectations and follow it? Do you have any idea how sad that is?”

“I’m my parents’ only daughter, who else is going to make them proud aside from me?” you bitterly said. “And I want this too Hoon, so I’m sorry if my dream isn’t in the form of a passion unlike yours.”

“You’re not going to change your mind aren’t you?” Sunghoon mumbled. “I only pursued my passion and suddenly I’m not fit for your life anymore?”

“It’s not just about having a perfect life, Hoon. My parents wanted me to marry a doctor, and I’m not going to push you anymore when it’s obvious that your heart beats for your passion.” you explained.

“What about your heart then? What does your heart yearn for? You’re not going to fight for me anymore?” he said, almost pleading. A desperate turn in his tone shifted in you.

“I’m done fighting for you Hoon,” you bitterly smiled. “Why are you suddenly asking me all of this?”

“You’re done with me? That’s it?”

“Sunghoon, I’m really, really tired with everything.” you pleaded. “We’re just going to hurt each other the more we stay in this engagement.”

Sunghoon only stared at you. For a moment, he wanted to rebut your words. He wanted for you to fight furthermore because he knows you. You’re hard-headed, you’re not the type that won’t give up easily. But as he looks in your eyes, all he can is your desperation, eyes that scream for him that you’re tired of everything.

“You’re really tired aren’t you?” he asked once again.

“Just let me go Hoon, please.” you whispered.

“Fine,” he said, defeated. “Only if you stay for the night.”

“What?” you asked, his request was sudden.

“Stay for the night, for me,” he said, almost pleading. “After this, I won’t disturb you anymore. Please, just stay for tonight.”

It didn’t sink in everything he said, you could only stare at him, eyes wide as you can see how his eyes were almost begging for you.

“I just…miss you so much,” he whispered. “But after this, we’re done. I’m going to tell my parents that we’re breaking off the engagement.”

“Okay,” you said in defeat, and Sunghoon could only nod. He grabs your hand and you let him do so.

You found yourself in his room. The silence was engulfing, you stood there clueless as Sunghoon opened his closet, grabbing a shirt and pajamas for you — like you didn’t have any clothes left in your room next door. But you let it be, grabbing the clothes and going towards his bedroom’s bathroom.

You can feel your heart beating fast. You were nervous, you don’t know what to do since this is the first time you and Sunghoon will sleep together. Sure, you had sleepovers back when you were kids, but those were the three of you. This one is just going to be the two of you, alone, in one bed.

But that’s his only request, when tomorrow comes, everything will be over now. It’s not like you two are going to do something, Sunghoon only wishes for you to stay for the night.

As you entered the room, you saw Sunghoon sitting on the edge of his bed, already in his sleeping clothes. He only stretched out his hands which you accepted and softly, he pulled you to his bed.

“Let’s go to sleep?” he asked, almost inaudible. You only nod at his request and with that, the two of you settled underneath the blankets. You couldn’t even move, you had your back against Sunghoon and you wondered if he’s already asleep or not.

It was as if he had read your mind, you felt Sunghoon shifted from his place — and in a second, warm arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer. Your breath halted as his hug tightened, your back almost resting on his chest, like he’s never wanting to let you go. It left you even more confused than ever, you two were never this intimate, and this will probably be the last time you two will be.

“Goodnight y/n,” he whispered, and you can feel his lips touching the top of your head.

Goodnight Sunghoon. You said in your mind.

“I’m sorry for everything.” Sunghoon mumbled, barely audible.

You only closed your eyes, taking a long deep breath to hold yourself from crying. You wondered why he suddenly apologized. Why now? When everything is bound to be over. But you didn’t say a word, you tried to sleep instead, knowing that there’s no will inside you left to fight for yourself and Sunghoon.

Goodbye Sunghoon.

The first semester has ended. The weather has become cold as fall passes by. Decelis University has slowly become empty with students going home to their hometown.

The remaining months of your semester became a blur to you. You passed all your courses with ease and you managed to receive an academic honor for it. Emails from medical school offers had been appearing in your emails too, which meant that you’re secured to attend med school after graduation. Everything has been good to you — you got everything you need.

When you returned to your hometown, your parents spared you. They told you that they understand why you did it, letting it pass since you didn’t abandon your studies at all. They learned from Sunghoon’s parents that the engagement was called off. They didn’t ask you furthermore about it, and you could do nothing but to apologize not only to your parents but also to the Park family. Disappointment runs through your mind, especially when Sunghoon’s parents trusted you with their son — only for you to fail them.

A knock on the door disturbed your day, as you turned around you saw your parents entering your room.

“Still studying dear? You’re doing too much now y/n,” your mom softly said, sitting on the edge of the bed along with your father.

But you only smile, “I want to make sure that I’ll be able to pass Decelis’ entrance exam for medical school, you told me that the passing rate there is small.”

“Yes I know that sweetie but you’re doing too much, why don’t you do something else aside from studying?” your father suggested.

But you only let out a laugh, “I'm all good dad, thanks for the concern though.”

“Have you ever thought of doing something else y/n? Something that you love?” your mom asked. That’s when you dropped your book, glancing at the two of them.

“Love?”

“A hobby, what about tennis? You’re great at that sport, maybe you can be an athlete,” your mom happily said.

“Oh, I do remember that you used to do ballet, I think you still have the skills sweetie,” your father added, which left you confused but chuckling.

“Mom, dad, what is this all about?” you asked. Silence hovered in the room for a minute, both your parents looked at each other, trying to signal each other who should talk, which left your mother sighing.

“Maybe, we shouldn’t have pushed you too hard to become a doctor,” your mother pointed out. “And it’s okay for us if you don’t want —”

“I want to become a doctor mom, that has always been my dream,” you rebutted, shifting your focus on your book. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me.”

“We had a talk with Sunghoon’s parents,” that’s when you stopped, glancing at them once again. “They explained why you two called it off.”

“Okay,” you shortly replied. You remember that night where you and Sunghoon slept together. His apology still lingers in your mind. There’s a part of you that wanted to know what he was sorry for.

But the more you stay there, the more the pain deepens in your heart. You slipped away from his hold the next morning, and starting that day, you never heard anything from Sunghoon.

He didn’t show up to any of his classes. He just disappeared like a bubble. Wonyoung told you that he doesn’t reply to her texts either. You don’t know if he continued performing in Arcanum, or did he ghost his band members. It’s funny how even though you two are already over, you still have a bit of concern for him.

“Sweetie, we understand Sunghoon. He chose his dream and maybe it was a little disappointing for you because you always dream that you and Sunghoon will become doctors together, but there will come a point where your dream will change.” your father explained. “Sunghoon just so happens to rekindle his passion for music, it happens.”

“And there’s nothing I can do about it,” you told them. “That’s why there’s no reason for the engagement to continue.”

“We shouldn’t have pressured you to become a doctor,” your mother insisted. “We were wrong in that part, and we’re very sorry about it dear.”

“Mom, even if you don’t pressure me, I still want to become a doctor no matter what, I will follow your footsteps, so don’t be sorry about it.”

“It’s not just about becoming a doctor,” your father pointed out. “It’s about your engagement with Sunghoon, we shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s already over, so you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Listen y/n, when we set you and Sunghoon to marry, it’s not for our business to emerge. We just knew that you two love each other.” your father explained, hand resting on your knees. The old man faintly smiles at you. “You two were too young to understand it, but it was also our fault for putting so much expectations on the two of you — we should’ve let you two navigate your feelings on your own.”

“But you said, I should marry a doctor,” you pointed out. “I always knew that it’s going to be Sunghoon, but he changed dad. If he can’t be the one, I’ll just find someone in med school.”

“Oh sweetie, we’re terribly sorry for saying that,” that’s when your mother pulls you to a hug. “But we still want you to marry for love, and dear, it’s not always about his profession, but how he’s going to treat you as your husband.”

“Why now? Why say that to me all of the sudden?” you questioned, breaking out from your mother’s touch.

“We didn’t think it’ll come to this point —”

“No, because from the very start you two insisted that I should marry a doctor because that’s what you two wanted for me! I was lucky that Sunghoon wanted to become a doctor but when he changed his dreams, I did everything just for him to go back!” you shouted.

Both your parents were surprised to hear your voice raise. You stood there, shaking as tears started to flow from your eyes once again.

“I did everything in my life just to please your expectations because I know that you two always know what’s best for me, and I didn’t want to fail you guys. But now, I feel so stupid because suddenly, I have the freedom to choose what I want,” a bitter laugh escapes your mouth, you brushed your hair as you bit your lips. Trying to stop the tears from falling.

“I even roped Sunghoon in my dreams because that’s what you guys want for me, and I was scared of disappointing you two if he didn’t become a doctor — you could’ve told me from the start! Then maybe, I could’ve supported Sunghoon instead of suffocating him.”

Your parents remained quiet. Sitting there as they watch their daughter cry. Both of them were surprised, never thinking they’ll see you cry. You have always been a strong girl for them, but then again, everyone crumbles.

“We can still fix it dear,” your mother insisted.

“It’s too late now mom,” you answered. “It’s not just about the engagement, Sunghoon and I, we’re done with everything. We spent our lives living up to your expectations, and this is the only time we made a choice for ourselves.”

Before they could say anything. You scurried to grab your phone and jacket, storming out of your room as your parents couldn’t do anything but watch you disappear from their sight.

You found yourself at the small playground near your house. Sitting on the end of the slide as you hiccup your cries.

You hate your parents and how their mind suddenly changed in a glimpse. Marry for love? Love was never the problem for you, it was the fact that they spent your whole life shaping you into an ideal life only for them to take it back. You’ll marry for love in a heartbeat but it never crossed your mind because their expectations came first.

If only. You could only think of the what-ifs because somehow, you spent your whole life making your parents proud — that you couldn’t even make a choice on your own. “Do you have any idea how sad that is?” you remember Sunghoon’s words to you, making you close your eyes as tears continued to flow along with your soft sobs.

Sunghoon’s right. All your life you did your best to follow your parents’ footsteps, never tried to navigate other hobbies or passions — perhaps that’s why you weren’t able to understand Sunghoon’s dreams at all. You suddenly felt lost, not knowing what to do with your life anymore. Sunghoon and Wonyoung, they’ll be choosing the things they love.

What about you? You don’t know anymore, you don’t even know if becoming a doctor is what you want — or it’s just something that has been engraved to you by your parents that you learned to love it somehow.

“y/n?” You looked up and to your surprise, Sunghoon’s mother was standing in front of you.

“Auntie,” you quickly stood up and wiped the tears away. “What brings you here?”

“I was supposed to visit you today,” she said with a soft tone. “But I caught you here on the way, is there something wrong?”

You immediately fake a smile, even though your nose was runny and eyes are puffy red, you tried your best to assure the woman that you’re okay. But she simply shakes her head before patting your head.

“Come on, let’s have a talk.”

You two ended up in a small coffee shop nearby. You watch as Mrs. Park lightly sips on her tea, before glancing at you. She then smiles, and you can see where Sunghoon got his eye smile, and somehow, that comforts you.

“When Sunghoon told us that he wanted to play for a band instead, we were disappointed,” Mrs. Park explained. “His dad was furious, but what else can we do? Stop him from doing what he loves?”

You only remained quiet, listening to Mrs. Park as she softly chuckled. “As parents, we only want what’s best for our children, but it’s still up to them to choose their future. For Sunghoon, we let him be, it’s what he wants.”

Then, she glances at you. “You know, Sunghoon broke the engagement because he doesn’t want to hurt you anymore?”

“I’m sorry I gave up on him.” you apologized immediately. “We — we’re just too different auntie.”

“Well, opposites do attract my dear,” she jokingly said, making you let out a small chuckle. From there, her expression softens. Looking at you pitifully, the woman can see the stress you went through and it breaks her heart, knowing that they were the reasons why you’re like that.

“You’ve done a lot for my son y/n, and I am thankful for that,” Mrs. Park smiles. “You’ll be a great wife for him, someone who’ll come to knock his senses but — everyone gets tired sometimes.”

You only smile at her, but Mrs. Park’s eyes glistened with a meaningful smile on her lips. “That’s why it’s important to rest, everything is not the end just because you were tired.”

You became quiet because of her words. Mrs. Park stretches her hand, holding your hand as she squeezed it lightly. “Just rest dear, take your time for yourself, everything is not too late.”

“But —”

“Listen to your heart this time dear, only your heart knows what’s truly best for you.”

You returned to your shared house a week before the next semester started.

The moment you opened the door, you were welcomed by its hollow silence, making you bitterly smile because you do miss the silence — and you’ll miss it more now that it won’t be the place you’ll go home to.

Slowly, you opened your room and noticed that it was the same as how you left it the night you ran away. Sunghoon didn’t touch any of it, and you were glad that he didn’t. You didn’t waste any time, you grabbed the luggage that you brought with you, packing all the things that you have in your room.

You spent the day packing your things. Neatly folding everything, and stacking it inside your storage box. You managed to finish it before sunset, going back and forth to load it inside your car. And with one last glance in the empty room, you could only mutter goodbye as you dragged your luggage with you.

But as soon as you reach the living room, you hear the doorknob unlocking, making you stop. You can feel your heart starting to beat fast, praying that it won’t be him.

“Y/n?” you saw how Sunghoon’s eyes widened as he saw you, but his eyes immediately darted at the luggage that you were holding.

You only took a deep breath before giving him a smile, “I just came by to grab my things.”

“Wait, wait — why?” Sunghoon hurriedly went towards you, hands grabbing your arm.

“Our engagement’s over Sunghoon, so there’s no need for us to be together,” you gritted your teeth. Every word felt like a knife stabbing inside you.

“Y/n, can you just listen to me —”

“Sunghoon stop, there’s nothing for us to talk about.”

“You know that everything’s not too late right? We can still fix it.”

“What’s to fix Sunghoon?” you asked. “I thought we made it clear that we’re done.”

“If you’re done fighting for me, then I’m fighting for you now,” Sunghoon insisted, grabbing you by your shoulders. You tried to get out of his hold but he tightens his hold on you.

“Why now Hoon? Where were you, when I was fighting for everything? You can’t just enter my life and expect me to accept you immediately —”

“I love you okay!?” he shouted, completely shutting you off. Eyes wide from the sudden confession.

Sunghoon looks at you, his eyes stressed and dark, yet it screams for your plea. “I’m sorry that I realized my feelings just now, I know I was late but it’s never too late for us, just listen to me —”

“Hoon stop —”

“Y/n, just for once why don’t you listen to your heart?” Sunghoon stated. “You know deep inside, that it’s not too late for us to fix it. Your parents, my parents, they know that it’s not too late, it’s only you who doesn’t want to —"

“Because I’m scared, Hoon!” you shouted, shutting Sunghoon off.

“I don’t know what to do with my life anymore Hoon and that fucking scares me. Suddenly I have my own freedom and I don’t know whether my decisions will be right or wrong. If I end up choosing what my heart wants, I might just ended up failing myself”

“You know you don’t always need to be perfect right?” Sunghoon whispered to you. “People make mistakes y/n, we’re flawed, and there’s nothing wrong with making mistakes.”

You only shake your head. “I don’t know Hoon, I don’t know what I should do anymore.”

“Just listen to your heart,” The hold on your shoulders tightens. “Go for the things you love, not because it’s what your parents taught you, or because it’s what’s for the best. You know this y/n, what do you want?”

You. You thought. In a heartbeat, it has always been Sunghoon. Despite all the mess, the rough paths, and fights you two had. In the end, your heart beats for him.

And as you look at him, there were no longer cold gaze and emptiness in his eyes, his eyes yearn for you too. The years of your unrequited love for him are over now.

“It’s you Hoon,” you mumbled, a bite on your lips as you started stuttering. “I’m just afraid after everything that happened to us.”

“We can work it out, we may have started on a rough path but I know that we can make it through.” he deeply sighs. “I’m sorry for everything, I know I said some harsh words but I was angry at that time, I’m sorry y/n, I was just frustrated but I didn’t mean every word that I said, it has always been you,”

You only stared at him, “how can I trust you Sunghoon?”

“Let me make it up to you y/n,” he swore, hands finding its way to your face. “If you let me, I’ll prove it to you.”

“How? How can I be so sure about you?”

“We’ll start again y/n, don’t worry about us, we’ll navigate this together, I won’t hurt you anymore.” Sunghoon promised. “Just be with me okay? You’ll be there for me right?”

You only stared at Sunghoon. He has his lips tightly sealed, his eyes were searching for yours, the same eyes that yearned for you that night. Your heart started beating faster, and you weren’t able to process that tears are starting to fall from your eyes. Your mind was telling you to run away again, but your heart — it beats for him.

You don’t know what to say, you only nod at his words. That’s when Sunghoon understood what you meant. Slowly he leans in, closing the space between the two of you.

You always thought that your first kiss with Sunghoon would be at your wedding. After you two exchange vows. It'll be short yet momentary. Significant in your life and a symbol that you and Sunghoon are going to be together, forever.

But as he kissed you right now after swearing to prove his worth for you, that’s when it halted you that Sunghoon’s words weren’t just empty promises. The way his lips trailed on yours, hands holding your face gently as he tilts more to deepen the kiss — making you kiss him back, softly yet surely.

You two weren’t wearing your wedding clothes, no rings, nor applauses from the crowd. It’s just the two of you, alone, in your house’ living room.

As you two broke from the kiss, Sunghoon’s forehead rested on yours, catching each other’s breath, you can see the small smile forming on Sunghoon’s lips.

“Tell me it’s true Sunghoon,” you whispered to him, eyes never leaving him. “I want to hear it from you.”

“I love you y/n,” Sunghoon confesses. “It has always been you, and no one else.”

You could only chuckle in disbelief as you felt a tear fall from your eyes, Sunghoon quickly wiped it off with his thumb before pulling you for another kiss, to which you responded quickly. From there, everything started to heat up, you could only place your arms around Sunghoon’s neck as you two continued to kiss like there’s no tomorrow.

Sunghoon didn’t waste any second. He grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up with ease without breaking the kiss, while you wrap your legs around his waist for support. The two of you ended up in his room wherein he gently placed you down to his bed.

“Are you sure about this?” he softly asked, eyes never leaving yours. He looks at you lovingly, like he was mesmerized that you’re his.

“I’m sure,” you answered. “And I’m sure that it’s going to be you Sunghoon.”

“I’ll take good care of you then,” Sunghoon answered before leaning down for another kiss. You only closed your eyes and kissed Sunghoon back.

You can feel it. The longing of tasting each other. The way Sunghoon kisses you gently, taking his time to savor you as he deepens his lips on you more. Soft nibbles on your lower lip making you whimper softly.

It went on and on, no one dared to break the kiss. Both hands trying to navigate each other. His right hand finds its way to yours, clasping between your fingers as he rests it on the side of your head.

Sunghoon breaks from the kiss, but immediately places his lips on your jawline until it reaches your neck. Planting soft kisses like he wanted to taste every skin of yours. His left hand finds its way to your body, gently tracing your upper body as you grasp on his sheets.

“Can I?” he asked, tugging at the hem of your shirt, which you nodded feverishly. You lifted yourself slightly for Sunghoon to remove your shirt before removing his shirt too. His toned body, and carved abs revealed in front of you which you could only stare for a minute. Who would’ve thought that underneath those baggy hoodies and large shirts, is a godlike body?

On the other hand, Sunghoon didn’t waste any time, he grabs your face once again, locking you to a kiss that’s more intense, hungrier than earlier. He was battling to get a taste of you more, tongue swiping on your lower lip making you moan, you could only shut your eyes as Sunghoon sloppily entered his tongue inside you.

Teeths clashing, tongue travelling inside you, your body started to heat up as Sunghoon continued to taste your lips further. He then started targeting your neck, making you tilt your head to make room for him. Hot, messy, wet kisses trailing on every skin his lips could reach. You let out a soft moan as Sunghoon’s hands trailed towards your bra, softly cupping your breast while his lips continued to bite your neck, sucking it lightly leaving purple marks all over it.

“So beautiful, only for me right?” he whispered to your left ear, planting a kiss on it before glancing at you.

“Only for you Hoon,” you whispered back, Sunghoon merely chuckling before darting his eyes on your lower body.

“Is this your first?” he asked, you only nod.

“Been waiting for you.” you muttered, and the next thing you knew, Sunghoon’s lips were on yours once again.

“Good girl, we’ll make it worth it yeah?” Sunghoon asked. “It’ll be special for us, we’ll be each other’s first. I told you I’ll prove my worth to you.”

Sunghoon gently unbuttons your pants before tugging it downwards, leaving you in your panties while he hastily removes his shorts, leaving him in his boxers.

“Come here love,” he gestured as he sat on the mattress, you only followed him as he pulled you to sit on his lap. A gasp leaving your lips as you could only hold your breath, feeling Sunghoon hard underneath. He’s big. You can feel it as you sit prettily on it, your clothed cunt just right above it.

Your thoughts only trailed off as Sunghoon continued to kiss you, hands attempting to unclasp your bra which made you chuckle in the middle of your makeout. You helped him unclasp it before throwing the bra somewhere.

“So fucking gorgeous for me,” Sunghoon gestured. His hands started circling on your boobs, cupping your right side making you whimper. Sunghoon's eyes never leaving yours as his hands trailed downwards, fingers tracing every skin of your body until it reached the hem of your panties.

“Is it okay?” he asked.

“Please Sunghoon,” you pleaded, unable to ignore the heat that you’ve been feeling.

Sunghoon’s fingers delicately feather on your clothed pussy. You softly moan as his palms cup it, rubbing on it as the slightest friction heats you furthermore. You wanted more, unknowingly you bucked your hips to his hand. Sunghoon fastens the way he rubs your pussy as you continue grinding against it.

“Sunghoon —”

“Do you want to touch mine too?” he asked, tone deeper than usual. You only stared at him for a good minute before you nod.

Sunghoon grabs your hand, gently guides it until your palm rests on his hard-on. It’s straining underneath his boxer, and just from your touch, you know that one hand wasn’t enough. You palmed it slowly, hearing soft breathing Sunghoon which fueled something in you.

“Can I do it?” you asked, your hands trailing on the hem of his boxer.

“Go on love,” he whispered, planting a kiss on your temple.

You pulled Sunghoon’s boxer, his hard length springing from it. Hard and thick, you looked at Sunghoon as you wrapped your hands around it, and you’re right, one hand isn’t enough. Your hands reach its tip, the pre-cum budding on its end, having you smear it as you circled your palms on his tip.

You watched as Sunghoon looked at you darkly. A faint smirk on his lips as you felt his fingers slipped under your panties, you let out a soft moan as his fingers found their way on your pussy. Softly trailing on its lips before going up to your clit, three fingers circling it slowly which made you twitch for a second.

Your hands started to stroke Sunghoon’s cock, slow and steady like you're memorizing every inch of it. It goes the same with him as he continues to rub your clit, harder leaving you breathless as you continue to pump his cock faster, squeezing his tip at every chance that you can. Earning breathy groans from him.

“Going to prepare you love, just breathe for me okay?” Sunghoon instructed and you could only moan in response. Your other hand found its hold on his shoulders, head resting on it as you nervously can feel his fingers near your entrance.

“You’re so wet for me, so fucking good,” he whispered to you, before slipping inside your pussy. You let out a deep sigh as his index finger rested inside you. “Just relax for me okay?” slowly he drags his fingers in and out, watching you fall in front of him as you couldn’t do anything but to leave breathy moans.

“Sunghoon —” you called out as you could feel him insert another finger inside you, the sudden move made you squeeze his dick hard, making Sunghoon curse under his breath. You mindlessly continued to stroke it as Sunghoon’s fingers circled inside you.

“Relax for me love, we don’t want to hurt you,” Sunghoon assured, kissing your right temple as he continued to finger you. It’s playing inside you, knuckles deep as his long fingers kept pumping inside you, curling at a spot that you feel sensitive the most. He’s stretching you, trying his best to prepare you, his fingers continue to scissor your walls at a right pace, reaching deep inside you.

“I want to come,” you mumbled as you could feel it coming inside you. Your hands gave up on stroking his dick, which made Sunghoon slow down his actions.

“You’re going to come with me inside, can you do that?” you quickly nod in his words, kissing his lips as he removed his fingers from you. You didn’t miss the way your pussy ached, but Sunghoon was quick to grab your waist.

Gently, he lays you down on his bed, and you watch as he reaches for his bedroom’s drawer, pulling the upper box and scavenging something there.

“Why —”

“Just making sure we’re safe,” Sunghoon told you.

“Yeah, but why do you have that…” you mindlessly asked, heat rushing towards your cheeks as you stared at Sunghoon.

“Heeseung gave it to me as a joke —” Sunghoon groans, embarrassed. “But at least we’re safe, right?”

“Right,” you whispered, leaning more against the pillow.

Sunghoon removes his boxer. Your eyes wandered at his cock again, hard and lengthy, you could only bite your lips as you wondered how it would fit you. Sunghoon eyes on you, like he's ready to devour as he pumps his cock with his right hand while he bites on the foil packet, tearing it open and grabbing the condom, sheathing it on his already sensitive cock.

Both of you never left each other’s gaze, you lifted your lower body for you to remove your panties, shamelessly spreading your legs in front of him. Your heart started to beat fast, nervousness started to hit you, but you were only assured when Sunghoon planted another kiss on your lips.

“Take a deep breath for me, okay? I’ll put on the tip first,” he guided you. You only nod at his words, laying back as you try to relax yourself.

Sunghoon could only bite his lips as he stared at you, legs spread with your glistening pussy on display. You’re his. You’re his to keep. Something about that thought had Sunghoon’s heart racing, unraveling a feeling of having you all by himself.

Sunghoon kneels in front of you, hands on your thighs as he hovers over you. He grabs his cock, stroking it steadily making him hiss lightly, at the same time, he grazes it on your cunt’s lips, making you moan.

You took a deep breath as you felt Sunghoon’s dick on your entrance, its girth enough for you to whimper even though it was just a tip. Sunghoon kept on glancing at you, trying to test if you can take it, careful as he pushed his tip inside you, making you let out a soft groan.

“Fuck Hoon,” you said, feeling your entrance tearing apart.

“It’s just my tip love,” Sunghoon told you, “we can stop if you want —”

“No, no, I want it,” you let out a sigh. “Please, just go slowly.”

“You want it all inside?” Sunghoon asked, eyes wide.

“I want to feel you, Hoon.”

Sunghoon was hesitant, seeing your eyes start to water, he was scared. You noticed the way his expression shifted, quickly pulling him for a short kiss with your eyes firm on him. There, he was assured, a short nod as a signal.

“Alright, relax for me okay? We’ll take it slow.”

Sunghoon started slow. Only pushing his tip in and out, so that you can still feel good. Then, he started to insert himself inside you, slow and careful while you could only take hasty breaths, holding it every time you felt yourself getting stretched.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sunghoon whispered. “So small and tight, you really waited for me huh?”

“Hoon —”

“It’s okay baby, I can move if you want me to,” Sunghoon assured.

You tried to adjust to his size, you’re too full and his dick’s fully sheathed inside you, but it feels good, you wanted more of him. You tried to move, bucking your hips upwards to test the waters, making Sunghoon glance at you.

“You wanted it baby?” he asked, before spreading your legs wider, wrapping it around his waist as he hovered over you.

“You can move now Hoon,” you said.

Sunghoon moved for a bit, carefully checking on you in case you might get hurt. But you quickly nodded, he pulled his dick out of your pussy, eyes surprised as the blood smeared all over the condom. It’s normal. He thought, but it still made him worried.

“I think I tore you,” he mumbled to you.

“I don’t care,” you replied. “Fuck, just put it in Hoon.”

With that, Sunghoon chuckles darkly. “Impatient already?”

Without a warning, Sunghoon pushes himself inside you, making you heave out a moan. A mouthful of curses leaving his lips as he started to thrust himself inside you. A steady pace that’s not rough enough for you but will leave you crying out of pleasure. He continued doing so, until he fastened his pace, too lost in the pleasure of his cock ramming your walls. Sunghoon could only utterly groan as your pussy continued sucking him in.

“Only for me —” Sunghoon moans. “So tight for me, there’s my good girl.”

“Hoon —”

“Want me to go faster? Want to take all of me?”

“Please — ugh, faster please.”

Sunghoon answers your pleas, grabbing your waist, lifting your stomach area, and in a second, he pulls his cock slowly and slams it inside you harshly, making you moan loudly as the pleasure was too much for you. Hands tightly gripping the sheets as your toes started to curl. Only wanton moans and Sunghoon’s names would leave out of your lips, calling his name like a mantra as his dick keeps on abusing your hole, reaching to the deepest part, feeling how his tip rubs a sensitive spot.

“Hoon, want you —” you called out, stretching your hands which Sunghoon eagerly accepted. Both hands intertwined, placed both either on the sides of your head as Sunghoon continued to thrust inside you.

Sunghoon locks his lips on you once again. A feverish makeout, making everything hot yet intimate as both your bodies were glued together. Skin to skin, not minding the warm temperature the room exceeds and how sticky both you are with your sweats. All that matters was how he kisses your lips like it’s his last meal on Earth, savoring the taste of it while his cock underneath fastens its pace.

“You’re so beautiful, all mine right?” he growled on your lips, making a short thrust which left you gasping. He can feel it, your pussy tightening, almost wanting for him to not leave, he continues to thrust in such pace as he watches your face distorting in an unreadable expression.

“Come on, say it love,” he commanded, giving you another thrust so hard that you choke under your breath.

“All y-yours! Fuck —” you cried, everything is too overwhelming for you. But Sunghoon was relaxed as he continued abusing your pussy.

“So good for me,” Sunghoon kisses your temples.

You could only close your eyes, too shut that it hurts. Concealing every cry as your legs started to shake, stomach coiling, and unable to control your breathing.

“Hoon —”

“Gonna come now love?” you heard Sunghoon asked, and your choked moan was the only thing you could say.

“Let’s come together, hold it for me can you?” Sunghoon fastened his pace, leaving you crying out of pleasure. He can feel everything tightening, his dick twitching indicating that he’s also near. It didn’t help that you’re sucking him hard. Everything just feels good for both of you, but Sunghoon wanted for it not to end. He wanted to linger more, to touch you more until he memorized everything about you.

“Fuck —” Sunghoon was almost shaking, his grip on your hand tighten as he glances at you one last time, he leans forward sealing you to a kiss so soft that it completely contrasts how the rough thrusts that he gives.

“Go on, come,” he whispered to you, thrusting sharply that you could only moan as your wave of orgasm came rushing inside you. Your legs shake violently as you let out soft breathing and whimpers. You weren't able to sink in how Sunghoon groaned at the same time as you, his thrust becoming sloppy as he came inside the condom. He thrusted a few times before pulling out, you could only whine because of the loss, not being able to process as Sunghoon lay down beside you.

Sunghoon quickly wraps his arms around you, pulling you a hug which only makes you drowsy. You can feel his skin against you, his warm touch that felt more nothing but a comfort to you.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

“It does,” you answered. Now that the high has left you, you can feel your cunt aching due to the sudden penetration. It did feel good but you didn’t expect for it to still ache afterwards.

“I’ll run a bath for us, don’t sleep on me yet,” he suggested.

“But I’m sleepy,” you mumbled. “Can we just stay like this?”

“Let’s clean each other first, come on,” he pulled himself away from you, you could only watch as he sat on the bed. Pulling the soiled condom, seeing it all bloodied, Sunghoon’s lips turned into a thin line before tying it and covering it with tissue. He throws it in the trash bin before walking towards his bedroom’s bathroom.

A few minutes later, he returned to grab you, carrying you bridal style which you didn’t mind, too tired to think about. The bathtub was only halfway full but Sunghoon quickly dips both of you inside. Your back resting against his back as you could only hum, relaxing into the warm water.

“You okay?” he asked, his arms possessively wrapping around you.

“I’m tired,” you mumbled. “I want to sleep.”

You hear Sunghoon chuckle, “never thought you'd be the type to get tired after one round.”

“I didn’t know it’ll be this tiring,” you mumbled. “Or maybe I was also tired from packing my things.”

“Which wasn’t necessary,” he kisses your temples. “Because you’re still staying here with me.”

You only hum at his sentence, closing your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Just rest for me okay? I’ll take care of you.”

“Alright.”

“I love you,” Sunghoon stated, a loving kiss planted on your head.

“I love you too.”

Last night felt like a dream.

You opened your eyes to see yourself in a familiar room. Its silence comforts you in an indescribable way. Seeing how the sunlight sweeps through its curtains, indicates that you’ve slept past your usual wake time — a rare thing for you to happen. You sat up from the bed, noticing that the sheets are different and so are your clothes. A large shirt that almost pooled your thighs along with some boxer shorts in the shades of blue, hitting you immediately with reality.

Last night felt like a dream but you remember every detail of it vividly. You could only hug your knees as the sudden shame came rushing to you. Cheeks are heating up as you can still feel sore down there. Never expect that everything will lead to you losing your virginity to Sunghoon.

You can feel your heart beating, you remember every word said last night. The arguments, and promises, the way Sunghoon looked at you — everything. Everything was real yet it felt surreal. That’s when you glance to your left and see it empty. Sunghoon’s not here, and the thought of Sunghoon leaving you shadowed over your mind.

Quickly, you jumped out of the bed. Light footsteps open the door of his room, and as you skirt outside, you can hear the faint sound of cooking in the kitchen — that’s when you felt relief.

Slowly, you entered the kitchen to see Sunghoon cooking what you concluded were pancakes. He places the last batch on a plate before turning off the stove, turning around only to be surprised to see you standing there.

Silence devoured both of you. Not knowing what to say at all. After all the fiasco that you two had, some issues that needed to be solved, and of course, last night’s intimacy, everything suddenly felt awkward for both of you.

“Good morning,” Sunghoon breaks the ice first. “You’re awake now, let’s have some breakfast.”

“I thought you left,” you blurted out, immediately sinking in that you shouldn’t have said that.

You saw the way Sunghoon's forehead creased, confused. “Left? Why would I leave, I stay here.”

“You stay here?” you asked.

Sunghoon only quips a small smile, “I stayed here, waiting for you…hoping that you’ll come home.”

“Oh.” you only look away, embarrassed at the thought, and yet, a part of you was surprised by what you heard.

Sunghoon really meant what he said, and the thought that he waited for you to come home instead of going after you — he gave you time to think and waited for you to return, while at the same time, it gave him time to navigate his feelings for you. He’s right. It wasn’t too late for everything.

Sunghoon places down the plate on the dining table. While you only sat on the chair, watching Sunghoon set up the table for you. He offers the plate for you as he sits beside you. From there, you two sat in silence, eating the perfectly-cooked pancakes.

Weird. You thought as you took small bites on the food. Everything feels at ease, but you know that there’s still many issues that two have to address. Last night was just a swirl of each other’s emotions, although a proof of each other’s promises, you still don’t know what to do with your situation with Sunghoon.

“What — what happened last night?” you asked. Sunghoon chokes on his food, startling you. “I mean, during the bath —”

“Oh, you fell asleep halfway, nothing happened after, I slept eventually,” Sunghoon explained.

“Alright,” you mumbled, clearing your throat. As you looked at your unfinished plate, you wondered about the two of you, almost immediately things won’t be easily like the way it was.

“Hoon,” you whispered, trying to carefully set the atmosphere.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, almost concerned.

“I just — I don’t know what to do with us,” you confessed, almost bitterly smiling. “All my life, I always knew what to do, I had a clear path of everything, dragging you in it which you obviously didn’t want to. But now that we have different goals, what about us?”

Sunghoon quietly looks at you. His soft expression completely contrasts the worried look on your face. Gently, he brushes the stray hair that covers your face, with his hand on the back of your neck, Sunghoon remains quiet as a smile forms on his face.

“I’m not leaving you y/n, don’t worry about us. Let’s just support each other alright? I know it’ll be hectic for each of us because we’re going different place, but this place,” Sunghoon’s eyes wandered around the house. “This is going to be our home. We’ll make it a home for us.”

“What about our engagement? It’s over now,” you asked, worried.

“Let’s get engaged when we’re ready, okay? Not because our parents set us up, I want our relationship to be genuine and real. I still have to prove my love for you.”

You only chuckle. “You already did.”

“It’s not enough, one night doesn’t change anything.”

You only nod at his words. “Thank you Sunghoon, for giving me another chance.”

“I should be the one who’s thankful to you, you never gave up on me even when I treat you badly,” he insisted, making you laugh.

“It’s my fault too, I shouldn’t have pushed you to my dreams too much.” you rebutted. “But I’m here now, I’ll support you in your dream.”

“That’s all I need to hear,” Sunghoon stated.

Nodding at his words, Sunghoon pulls you for a hug, his arms instinctively lifting you from your seat, pulling you to his lap to hold you even more tightly. You rest your head on his shoulder as your arms swing around his neck.

Silence hovered the dining area. You two remained there, never letting go of each other. The tranquility gives you two peace, feeling nothing but each other’s warmth as Sunghoon traces circle around your back, while you rest idly on him. It was comforting and assuring, and your heart swells in joy because your future with Sunghoon was never lost to you.

Epilogue.

As you open the door of your house, you immediately switch the lights on, revealing its comforting silence that only made you smile. The smell of lavender and eucalyptus filled the room, the relaxing scent coming from the air diffuser you and Sunghoon bought a few months ago, automatically reminds you of your lover.

“Hoon, I’m home!” you shouted, removing your sneakers when you heard the door of your shared room (formerly Sunghoon’s room) open. Sunghoon approaches you with a smile, gently cupping your cheeks to seal a kiss.

“Welcome home,” he greets, making you smile.

“What’s the occasion? You’re all dressed-up, or have you just got home from your class?” A year wasn’t that long, but a lot of things have changed between you and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon was given another chance from Decelis to finish his degree in medbio, stating that it’ll be a waste for him to not continue it. Although the two of you knew that the degree is deemed useless, Sunghoon let it be, a deal that he had with his parents for him to continue playing in the band.

After graduation, you agreed to Sunghoon to take a few months before entering medical school. Although you’re already on board to attend Decelis Medical School, you decided to take time to spend with the people you love because you know how hectic med school will be.

Arcanum continued performing. After graduation, they became an independent band. Slowly, their popularity is starting to rise. Getting invited to events, university festivals, and of course, they still do their gig in The Rabbit Hole, which became more popular and crowded than ever. You, on the other hand, always manage time to watch their performance along with the other band members’ girlfriends — who you eventually became friends with.

“I’m taking you out for dinner,” Sunghoon simply replied, grabbing your bag as he scurried his way back to your bedroom, which you only followed.

“Why? What’s the special occasion?” you asked, laughing.

“Nothing, just want to take my girl out, is that so bad?” Sunghoon grins, and your gleaming eyes can see how excited he is, like he’s preparing for something.

You only hum, as you proceed to your shared closet. “Alright, let me just freshen up for a bit and change.”

You two arrived at the restaurant not an hour later. The receptionist guided you to your reservation which surprised you because Sunghoon had reserved a private room for the two of you.

“This is,” you held your breath as you looked at the room. Nostalgia hits you because Sunghoon had brought you to the place where you two were formally engaged by your family.

“You still remember it?” he asked, smiling.

“Of course,” you could only mumble. “I was nervous. We were friends who suddenly became fiances at eighteen, it was a sudden turn.”

“I was nervous too, but I was in relief because my family chose you,” Sunghoon confesses. “Although we went through a rough path, I’m glad we were able to overcome it.”

You only smiled back at him. “So am I.”

Food arrived minutes later, along with some white wine of Sunghoon’s choice. The two of you spent the remaining time reminiscing, talking mostly about your childhood days, especially the embarrassing moments that had you two laughing loudly.

“I have some news for you,” Sunghoon blurted out, completely changing the topic between the two of you.

“What is it?’ you asked, taking small sips from your glass.

“Daydream Records called yesterday,” Sunghoon started, his smile grew wider, eyes almost turning into a curve. “They’re interested in having us in their label, it’s a five-year contract and they will manage everything for us — can you believe it!?”

“Oh my god —” words got stuck in your throat. Immediately, you stood up from your seat, approaching Sunghoon who only waited for you to fall into his arms. Pulling you on his lap as you embraced him tightly. “Hoon, oh my god — this is good news! You guys will become famous!”

“Becoming famous is still far for us, but no more hassle schedules, and Heeseung’s girl doesn’t need to partake in managing us, we’ll have our own manager, our own studio — everything!” Sunghoon excitedly shared, making you smile wider.

“That’s great love, I’m so, so proud of you and Arcanum,” you only said, leaning on him to give him a deep kiss on the lips which he only reciprocated.

“We’ll be busy this year, you’re going to attend Decelis in two months, while once we sign our contracts, we’ll be gearing up to release our debut single.” Sunghoon explained. “We might always come home to an empty house now.”

“Are you afraid?” you asked worriedly.

“Of course not, I have faith in both of us, but y/n,” he settles you on the chair in front of him. Hands holding you as he gives you an assuring smile. “We might not see each other from time to time because we’re too busy, but I want to let you know that I will always support you no matter what.”

Before you could say anything, Sunghoon grabs something from his coat’s inner pocket, your eyes widening at the velvet box that he’s holding.

“Hoon,” you whispered.

“We were tied to be married when we were young, and we promised that we’ll only get married when we’re ready, and though one year has passed and a lot of things have changed, we still have a long way to go, for us.” Sunghoon stated.

You remained quiet, only staring at him who gently cups your face.

“I want you to think of me whenever you see this ring,” he said as he proceeded to open the box. Your eyes widened at the pair of rings — both have subtle engraved diamonds, with the other one thinner with a much more intricate design.

“And I’ll think of you whenever I see the ring too,” Sunghoon added. “It’s a promise ring. A promise for us that we’ll be with each other no matter what. It’ll be our strength especially during hard times.”

Tears started flowing from your eyes, out of happiness, you let out a choked laugh as you wiped your tears away — bumping into Sunghoon's hands who faltered a laugh as he gently wiped the tears away.

“Hoon, I don’t know what to say…I love it — gosh, I love you so, so much, you don’t know how happy this makes me,” you could only say, almost stumbling to your words.

Sunghoon didn’t say a word. He removes the ring and gently puts it in your ring finger, fitting perfectly like it was meant for you. You copied his action, grabbing the other band and placing it in his ring finger.

“Promise me that you’ll be there for me,” Sunghoon stated.

“Of course, I’ll be there for you, just like you’ll be with me,” you only smiled. “Forever.”

Sunghoon grabs your cheeks once again, planting a kiss on your lips which you delicately replied, sealing the promise you two have. Breaking the kiss, Sunghoon only stared at you, eyes brightening as his smile became wider.

“Forever.”

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prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue · 1 month ago

Text

VALERIE

pt.2 of pull me in

summary : due to bruce distancing himself from reader and seeing other women - the rest of thr batfamily has to watch her willow away.

Damian carefully sets out delicate China plates onto the oak table - he always ensures that he places the golden forks and its corresponding smaller spoons next to them - just like how Name taught him . It all seems like a forgone , a distant memory , but when Damian had first moved into the manor - he met Name always cooking.

She was a woman who always preferred home cooked food over bought food - taught him that having the privilege to have food and to enjoy it was a luxury many cannot afford in this time - so the fact that this family can - they should cherish it.

He was, of course, weirded, out by it - of course, he grew up having maids cook for him - he never had to think of his next meal but because he respected Name wishes . His respect was even further upheld because Name was an amazing cook - everything she's ever made him practically melted in his tongue , the taste etched into the depths of his mind.

He remembers in his earlier days of living here - he always hovered over her in the kitchen , he found it peaceful and a way to escape to constant arguing and fighting he had with the rest of his other siblings. He always gravitated to her , he didn't understand why - he already had a mother, Talia , but for some reason, he still felt the need to be around her.

Maybe it was because Name was a quiet woman and a woman who never bothered to fix him or opted to berating him about something - instead, she opted to just live in his space , to just quietly carry about herself. That doesn't mean they haven't spoken , his very first day, he remembered her asking if he had any allergies or certain food preferences.

They had other conversations, too , like the time she caught him fiddling with the washing machine when he was trying to wash his Robin suit, and she explained the workings and mechanics of using both the washer and the dryer. Or the time she caught him sneaking out, and she literally told him to use the backdoor next time.

Safe to say , Name and him bonded quietly, but that's what he loved about her - she was patient and loving - a silent type of love not one that's too overbearing or one like Bruce's were it left you guessing.

Damian sets the jug of water at the center of the table - ensuring it was perfect and neat just like Name taught him . Jason and Tim soon enough comes barreling in with takeout bags and left them on the table half hazardly.

" Tch - Jason, just because your room is a pigsty doesn't mean our dining table has to be." Damian quarreled as he immediately straightened it . " Yeah, Jay mom has a system." Tim quirks up as he helps Damian straighten it.

Jason awkwardly rubs at his head , " Sorry - never got ma's tidy genes," he apologizes . Damian rolls his eyes, but let's out a smirk . The dining door opens again to reveal Dick and Name walking in , Dick immediately pulls out a chair for Name and helps her get situated in.

" We got Chinese takeout, ma," Dick explains as he gestures towards the bags on the table. A small smile graces name's face as she gives a small nod at the boys. They immediately lit up - glad that their mom was happy with today's dinner choice.

" Yeah, we got you your steamed broccoli and beef ma " Jason says as he carefully hands her a box . Name nods as she takes the box into her hands and rests it carefully on the plate . " Jay and I got fry rice and shrimp wontons - Dick got spicy noodles with chicken, and well, we all know Damian got his sucky tofu " Tim furthers as he distributed the boxes out.

Dick practically snatches his before sitting next to Name . He opens up his box, and the smell of the spice practically engulfs the entire room, causing everyone to cough. Jason, who has opted to sit across from Name, glares at him , " Dick how spicy did you order that damn thing -" he complains.

Tim, who was sitting next to Jason, stuffed his mouth with a wonton , " $50.00 he's gonna start crying again when he eats it -" he bets. Damian takes his seat in the opposite of Name and grumbles annoyed with his siblings antics , " Grayson I swear to God if you get an upset stomach because of this on patrol I am personally going to stab you " .

Name giggles quietly - no matter how shitty life went for her - nothing could beat watching her children be happy like this. " Ya'll are being dramatic. I just got normal level this time, alright - plus I have a better spice tolerance than you all," Dick defended as he slurped his noodles.

Everyone literally rolled their eyes at that. " Dick you got the spice tolerance of an old white man," Tim muses . " Tim - you are a white old man too you shouldn't be talking either " Jason interjects.

" This argument is pointless - you all are pathetic at cuisine - only mother and I have a superb palette," Damian adds in as he carefully eats his tofu. A collective groan echoes in the dining room. " Okay - Mom has a good palette, hands down, but definitely not you, Damian." Dick argues - pointing his fork at Damian dramatically.

" Okay, first off, I am the only one here who can somewhat replicate Mother's pelau -" Damian defends . Jason , pursuing his lips cuts him off , " You burnt the bloody rice last time. What do you mean replicate ?" Jason points out. " I said somewhat, Todd, maybe Harvard should take back your English degree," Damian snares.

" When you are making pelau , rice goes in last, and then you add in your water," Name interjects before the conversation goes south and explains - her voice soft . The batboys still - its rare their mother ever talks - ever since Bruce told her voice was annoying and grating - she very rarely spoke . Safe to say , they were overjoyed . " Thank you, ma - tell them how a real cook does it !!" Jason exclaims .

" Ma, I miss your cooking - we literally have to survive off of Alfred and Dad's poor attempts," Tim practically begs. " I'm sorry, babies, you know Mama can not cook anymore like she used to, but I'm sure Alfred and your father can cook." Name apologizes , grimacing at the ' your father ' part .

The batboys too grimance at the mention of Bruce - it's no secret that they dislike him - no matter how much Name pleads and tells them to respect him and remind them that he was their father - they couldn't bring it upon themselves to respect that man . In utter rebellion, they all start calling him Bruce - even on patrol since none of them could give a shit .

Heck, that's how Selina found out . It was like any other patrol except that night , Tim and Bruce were really deep into another argument. " Bruce - I am not going to another stupid gala - especially because Ma isn't going," he argued . " Your mother doesn't control you, Tim," Bruce argued back as he continued looking over the roof - already done with the conversation.

" Yeah, well, maybe the fact that you're married to the woman should control you from being tongue deep down in some other woman, huh ?" Tim yells back before he turns away from Bruce . Selina was standing right behind him , jaw-dropped and eyes blown open in shock . Tim shoves past her before disappearing off in the night - he couldn't stand being in either of their presence .

Before anyone could say anything , the dining room's door pushes open to reveal a scowling Bruce . His neck is covered in lipstick marks and hickies , and his shirt is wrinkled. Name practically froze in her spot , arms shaking as she took him in . She could feel all of her insecurities bubble with her - practically drowning her in scalding water .

Jason scoffs - already pissed at absolute audacity while Tim just stares - his face void of any emotion. Dick's eyes got dull, really quick when his eyes drifted between Name and Bruce and well Damian - his face was red - down to the tips of his ears was red , he was practically seething in his seat - ready to pounce .

" I thought I said to make dinner Name ?" Bruce questions as he takes a seat to the top of the table. The air is tense and cold, and no one at the table makes a move to acknowledge the sheer stupidity of his demand. " And we thought being married means being loyal to your partner," Jason sassed - his glare practically cuts into Bruce's own.

" Have some decorum at the table, Jason," Bruce corrected as he stares at Name pointedly , " Again Name , why is there no dinner prepared . Are you so lazy that you have to waste my money on cheap takeout ?" He asks again. Name stayed there frozen - her lungs began to collapse on her as panic ensnares her.

" If you want dinner prepared, then prepare it yourself." Dick seethes out . Silence consumes the table once again - the air practically thickens when the dining door opens again to reveal none other than Selina , black dress equally wrinkled and her lipstick smudged.

Name stared at her and then at Bruce before standing up , her chair scraped against the floorboards, leaving a mark in its wake. " Go rot in hell " Name says , voice dripped in calm rage , eyes boring into Bruce challenging him to say something .

Name then looked to Selina , face void of feeling as she did a once over , " Last season of Channel's couture? Pathetic , at least look good if you are going to be a homewrecker " She says casually before strutting past her as if Selina was a measly fly.

The room goes silent fast, and soon enough, everyone began dismissing themselves, leaving Bruce and Selina alone to tend to each other's bruised ego's.

thank you for reading !!

please like + share + comment

note : this is a work of fiction . This work does not represent Canon versions of Selina Kyle , Talia AL Ghul, and Bruce Wayne , please do not unnecessarily hate these characters .

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heeluvv · 3 months ago

Text

PERSONAL TRAINING.ᐟ

pairingᝰ.ᐟ personal trainer! jay x client! reader

warningsᝰ.ᐟ mirror sex, fingering, oral (m), rough sex, etc.

word countᝰ.ᐟ 12.174k

natty's notesᝰ.ᐟ request, mdni, hate comments will be deleted. (not proofread)

you could feel it—every fiber of your body beginning to tremble beneath the pressure, your legs threatening to give out as your thighs burned from the strain. your breath came in short, shallow pants, each exhale slipping past your lips with a soft whimper you didn’t mean to let out. sweat rolled down the back of your neck, your arms shaking as you tried to keep your posture locked in place, just like he taught you.

“jay… please…” your voice cracked slightly, breathless and small. “how much longer?”

you tilted your head just enough to look up at him, expecting… something. maybe reassurance. maybe a hint of mercy. instead, you were met with that same unreadable expression. cold. composed. his jaw clenched, his eyes unreadable beneath the harsh gym lights—no softness, no pity. he didn’t even blink.

when you signed up for a personal trainer, you thought it’d be simple. someone professional. polite. encouraging in a kind of motivational-poster way. maybe a little strict, sure—but nothing you couldn’t handle. you figured it would be manageable. maybe even boring.

but you were wrong. so wrong.

jay was something else entirely.

he didn’t coddle you. he didn’t give in when you begged, didn’t crack a smile when you stumbled through his grueling routines. he didn’t just push you past your limits—he watched you there, waiting in silence, drinking in the way you squirmed and shook under his command. and it wasn’t just the workouts. it was everything. the way his voice dipped lower when you whined. the way his hands lingered too long on your hips when he corrected your form

“you’ve been doing it for just fifteen minutes. you still have thirty minutes to go.”

his voice cuts through the silence like a blade—sharp, controlled, and utterly void of sympathy. there’s no softness to it, no hint of concern for the way your thighs are shaking or your arms are beginning to tremble beneath the weight of the position he placed you in. the words are a command, not a comfort, and they make your heart pound harder than any rep ever could. you swallow thickly, sweat clinging to the back of your neck, your body trembling with every second that drags by, your legs threatening to give out as the burn in your muscles deepens.

you hear his footsteps before you feel him. heavy, steady, unfaltering. each one thuds softly against the mat-covered floor as he circles behind you again like a predator stalking his prey. you can sense the shift in the air, the sudden warmth of his presence settling behind you before his hands even touch you. and when they do—when his fingers curl around your waist with that same rough precision he always uses—it’s like your entire body locks into place. he adjusts you without asking, without warning, gripping your hips tightly as he guides them into the position he wants. your back straightens under his firm control, the curve of your spine aligning perfectly with the angle he prefers. it’s not just correction. it’s ownership.

his touch lingers longer than it needs to. you feel his palms drift upward, gliding over your sides with slow, deliberate motion. it isn’t the professional, detached touch you expected when you signed up for personal training—it’s slower. warmer. almost indulgent. his fingertips press into your ribs, not hard, but enough to make your breath stutter. they slide higher until his hands settle on your shoulders, the heat of his skin bleeding through the thin fabric of your shirt. your muscles are tense, overworked, and tight, but his thumbs move carefully, deliberately, massaging soft circles into the knots building beneath your skin. it’s meant to relax you—but it only makes your pulse race faster.

“you have to relax,” he murmurs finally, his voice low and smooth, thick with something you can’t quite name. he’s closer now. too close. his chest brushes your back with every inhale, his breath ghosting over your cheek in a way that makes your skin burn. you can hear every word he says like it’s being spoken right into your bloodstream, vibrating through you in waves.

you try to breathe, but it’s impossible with the way he’s looking at you. your gaze shifts up to the mirror in front of you and there he is—towering behind you, eyes dark and locked on your reflection. he’s watching you watch him, his face calm but focused, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth when your eyes meet. and he doesn’t break it. doesn’t look away. doesn’t even blink.

“i’m going easy on you,” he says, and his voice dips even lower, like it’s meant just for you. “and you’re already complaining?”

your throat goes dry. you can’t answer—not with how close he is, not with his hands still gripping your body, not with his breath so hot against your skin. it’s overwhelming. the tension. the heat. the way he doesn’t even need to raise his voice to make your legs tremble more than the exercise ever could. he knows what he’s doing. every movement, every word, every glance—it’s all intentional. calculated.

his hand squeezes your hip, just a little harder this time. not rough, but firm. a warning. and then he leans in, his lips barely brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, slow and deliberate, “keep your form�� or i’ll hold you there myself.”

he stays behind you as you move—up, then down, over and over again, your body falling into the rhythm you’ve been repeating for what feels like forever. your muscles ache, your legs feel heavy, and sweat clings to the curve of your lower back, but none of that is what’s clouding your mind now. it isn’t the time or the repetition that’s making your thoughts blur into heat—it’s him. it’s the way he’s standing so damn close, the way every squat presses your ass just barely against the front of his body.

at first, you thought it was an accident. maybe just proximity, maybe just poor spacing. but now… now you’re not so sure. the contact is subtle, almost ghostlike. just the faintest brush of fabric against fabric, friction that makes your breath catch in your throat and your heart stutter mid-beat. it isn’t enough to be obvious—but it’s enough to make you throb.

you try to shift, just slightly. a soft, awkward attempt to create space. your feet adjust, your hips angle differently, a small, almost embarrassed squirm. but he doesn’t let you go far. his hand comes around your waist, firm but gentle, pulling you back into place without a word of protest—like it’s second nature to handle you like that. his fingers spread across your lower stomach, steadying you, guiding you back to the exact spot he wants you in. you can feel his grip through the thin material of your clothes, warm and deliberate.

“just like that, y/n,” he says, low and measured.

his voice is close again, too close, practically dripping into your ear like syrup. your name rolls off his tongue like it tastes good there, like he enjoys saying it this way—watching you flinch at the sound, at the implication. you catch a glimpse of his face in the mirror, gaze locked onto your reflection, and it sends another wave of heat crawling up your spine.

his eyes are everywhere. tracking the way your thighs quiver, the way your back arches just slightly more with each rep, the way your body presses back into him no matter how hard you try not to. he isn’t pretending to be professional anymore. he’s drinking it in. the strain. the tension. the subtle, desperate edge of discomfort in your expression as you try to hold it together under his watch.

your teeth sink into your bottom lip, an unconscious response to the pressure, the heat, the thick silence that’s wrapped around the two of you like a noose. you pretend it’s focus. you pretend it’s effort. but your thighs are clenching for a different reason now—and you know he can tell.

just as your body rises again, thighs trembling with effort and sweat sliding down your spine, he stops you. not with words—just a single, sudden movement. his hand presses lightly against your lower back, not forceful, but enough to make you freeze mid-motion, your breath hitching in your throat. you don’t know why he’s stopping you. your form was right. your balance was stable. but then you see it—his eyes catching yours in the mirror.

they’re locked. steady. dark.

for a long second, he doesn’t say anything. he just stares, expression unreadable, his gaze pinning you in place like a weight heavier than anything you’ve lifted. it sends a jolt straight through your chest, your stomach twisting as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong—something forbidden. and then, just as quickly, he looks away. his hand lifts. the warmth of him vanishes from your skin, and the space between you fills with something colder, emptier.

he steps back.

you can hear the shift in his breathing, the rustle of his movements as he begins to gather his things. no softness. no goodbye. just a quiet command wrapped in routine.

“that’s all for today, y/n,” he says, his tone even, clipped, like nothing just happened—like he hadn’t been pressed up against you minutes ago, eyes burning into your reflection. “make sure you come back tomorrow. same time.”

you turn slowly, still catching your breath, your body buzzing with leftover heat that has nothing to do with the workout. he’s already slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, muscles flexing beneath his black shirt as he moves. he doesn’t look rushed. if anything, he looks calm. collected. like he’s completely unaffected by the tension he left simmering between you.

but then, right before he turns away, his eyes trail down your body.

not fast. not polite. slow and deliberate—starting at your face, sliding over your chest, dipping lower, lingering at your waist, your thighs, the parts of you still pulsing from where his hands had been. there’s no smirk, no word of praise. just the weight of his gaze as if he’s memorizing it. branding it.

and then he’s gone, leaving you standing there breathless, burning, and already aching.

your mind is a mess. completely clouded, overrun, pulled apart by the memory of him. jay—his voice, his touch, the way his body pressed into yours under the guise of correcting your form. and worst of all, the way he walked away like none of it had meant anything. like he didn’t feel the heat, the tension, the pulse in the silence between you. like he didn’t know exactly what he was doing.

it only made everything worse.

now you’re home, steam rising thick in the bathroom, the hot water cascading over your skin like it’s trying to wash the memory off of you. but it clings—thick and electric—no matter how hard you scrub. you drag the loofah across your skin with slow, distracted movements, cleaning the sweat from your arms, your chest, your stomach. the ache in your thighs is still there, but it’s not just from the squats. it’s from something deeper. something hotter. something he left behind.

your free hand moves without thinking.

it slides up, fingers gliding over the slick warmth of your skin until it reaches your breast. your thumb brushes over your nipple—lightly at first, just a test, a flick of sensation—and you gasp. the water is still running hot, but the way your nipple hardens under your touch has nothing to do with temperature. you rub again, slower this time, then roll the sensitive bud between your fingers. a soft, breathy sound escapes your lips—half-formed, barely-there, but heavy with need.

your eyes flutter shut as the image forms in your mind, uninvited but welcome. his body behind yours. his voice in your ear. the feel of his crotch pressing into your ass, over and over again with every rep, every movement. it hadn’t been subtle. you felt it. the heat. the size. the slow drag of it against you like he was trying to brand the shape of it into your skin. and god—he had. because now, even under the spray of your shower, you can still feel it. still ache for it.

your fingers move lower. your hand keeps going. and your breath catches as your thighs instinctively press together, desperate for friction, for pressure, for anything to satisfy the ache that thought alone is stirring inside you.

the second your fingers make contact with your clit, your breath shatters into a loud, broken moan. it escapes your throat before you can stop it, echoing off the walls of the shower, swallowed up by the sound of the water pouring down your back. your body jolts at the sensation—your legs tightening, your knees threatening to buckle as you start to rub slow, tight circles against the sensitive bud. the pressure sends sparks through your core, but it’s not just the physical touch—it’s the images unraveling in your mind that do it. the way your body remembers his presence, the way your imagination fills in all the blanks he left behind.

you can see it now—so vividly it almost feels real. jay kneeling behind you on the yoga mat, his large hands gripping your hips like you were made to be handled by him. he spreads you open, not gently, not sweetly, but like he’s entitled to it. like your body was always meant to be laid out for him. your skin prickles at the thought of his fingers tracing over the curve of your ass, slow at first, teasing, only to dip lower. you imagine the way he’d drag his fingertips between your thighs, trailing along your slit with a low groan when he finds how wet you are. soaked and dripping—just from thinking about him.

his voice would be so cocky. low and rough with control, smug with the knowledge that you’re falling apart from the slightest touch.

“so wet for me already?” he’d murmur, leaning in close to your ear, his tone dark and taunting.

your breath hitches as you press harder against your clit, circling faster now, chasing the feeling his voice alone could give you. you picture the way he’d touch you—no hesitation, no gentleness—just confident, deliberate strokes. you can practically feel the pads of his fingers rubbing your clit furiously, matching the exact rhythm you’re giving yourself now, only faster, rougher, with more purpose. like he wants to make you come fast, just so he can do it again.

“who knew you were such a slut, hm?” he’d whisper, lips brushing against your neck as you writhe beneath him. “look at you—already falling apart and i haven’t even fucked you yet.”

the words echo through your mind like they’ve been said out loud, and your body responds instantly. a moan slips from your mouth, louder this time, shameless, as your back arches into the pressure of your own hand. your thighs tremble, your body burning from the inside out as the image of jay behind you only sharpens, becomes dirtier, more possessive. and even as your fingers work your clit faster, your mind craves more. his weight. his voice. his cock. him.

your head tips back against the cool tile, mouth parting in a broken gasp as your fingers slip lower, slower, needier. and then you're imagining it again—not just his voice, not just the weight of his body behind yours—but his fingers. those strong, rough, calloused fingers that you know would stretch you open just right. your hand trembles as you mimic the thought of him, plunging two fingers inside with a gasp, curling them upward the way you think he would—like he knows exactly where to touch you, like he’s mapped out every inch of you before you ever gave him permission.

you whimper the moment your fingertips find that soft spot inside, the one that makes your thighs twitch and your breath stutter. in your mind, it’s jay doing it. jay, with his lips curled into a smirk, voice low and taunting as he pushes his fingers deep and pumps them fast, relentless, merciless. you match the pace he’d set—sharp, purposeful thrusts—curling your wrist and fucking yourself on your own hand with desperate, messy need.

loud moans spill from your mouth, one after another, unrestrained, raw. the kind that feel like they’ve been buried inside you all day, waiting to come loose. each sound bounces off the walls, swallowed up by the steam, mixing with the sharp, slick rhythm of your fingers working inside you. the wet, obscene slush of it fills the space around you, loud and needy, and it only makes the coil in your stomach wind tighter, hotter.

you clench around your fingers, vision going hazy, your body squeezing down like it’s reacting to him and not you. and in your mind, it is. it’s jay kneeling between your thighs, watching you fall apart with a satisfied glint in his eye. it’s his breath against your inner thigh, his low chuckle vibrating against your skin as you writhe beneath him. “good girl,” he’d murmur, pushing deeper, harder, fucking you open with nothing but his fingers until you’re crying out for more.

your muscles go tight, your stomach coils, and your moans rise in volume and pitch as you start fucking yourself harder—matching the rhythm he’d use if he were here. he’d be watching you fall apart. he’d make you look at him while he worked his fingers inside you. maybe he’d press his lips to your ear, whispering filth while you writhe beneath him. “gonna cum already, sweetheart? barely touched you and you’re already shaking?”

your head drops back as the pressure snaps.

your orgasm hits you all at once, hard and hot and overwhelming. it punches the air out of your lungs in a guttural, shaking moan. your fingers stay buried inside as your walls clench down around them, fluttering, desperate, squeezing so tightly it nearly hurts. your knees threaten to give out. your thighs tremble uncontrollably. you ride it out with your mouth open, panting his name into the steam, breathless and ruined and soaked in every way.

even as the pleasure pulses through you, wave after wave, your hips keep rolling forward like you’re trying to chase more—greedy for every last drop of it. and when your fingers finally slow, slipping free from your dripping cunt, the mess you’ve made glistens across your knuckles and thighs. your whole body twitches. you’re left breathless, braced against the tiled wall, skin flushed and still pulsing with heat. it’s overwhelming—but not enough. not even close.

because even in the silence that follows, even as you struggle to breathe again, he’s still there. not physically—but in your head. on your skin. in the way your body aches for him now. it wasn’t just a fantasy. it was something real, something that clung to you the second he touched you, something that’s going to live in your skin until he finally does what you’re both pretending not to want.

the air in the private gym is thick with heat and the scent of your own sweat, but there’s something else in it too—something heavier. something you can’t name. you’re bent over the padded edge of the workout bench, palms gripping the sides, your knees slightly bent, back arched at an angle that forces your ass to stick out as you try to steady yourself. your breath comes in short, controlled bursts, chest rising and falling as you focus on the pull in your arms and shoulders. you're doing bent-over rows, or at least trying to, but it’s hard to concentrate when you feel him behind you.

jay.

he’s been there the entire session, watching, adjusting, correcting—always so close it makes your skin prickle. he doesn’t say much. just the occasional murmur of your name, the soft clink of weights, the sound of his breath too close to your ear. and now, as you lower yourself again and pull the weights back with a slight tremble in your arms, you feel him shift behind you. you don’t have to look. you feel him. the heat of his body, the shadow he casts over yours, the way his hand comes to hover just above your lower back—not touching, not yet.

“core tight,” he says, voice smooth and dark like melted honey. “back straighter.”

his palm finally makes contact, pressing down between your shoulder blades, guiding your spine into a deeper arch. you swallow hard. you feel the way his fingers spread slightly, resting there for just a second longer than necessary, his breath brushing over the nape of your neck like static. your body responds before your brain can stop it—hips pushing back slightly, ass brushing up against the space behind you. and then you feel it.

you feel him.

the hard shape of his cock, thick and unforgiving, nestled against your ass through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. your lips part, a soft gasp escaping before you can catch it. your fingers twitch around the edges of the bench. you don't move. neither does he.

he doesn’t apologize. doesn’t retreat. instead, his fingers flex where they rest on your back, sliding lower, tracing the dip of your spine until his palm cups the curve of your ass. he squeezes once—firm, deliberate, like he’s been waiting to do it all day.

“just like that,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself. “you’ve been teasing me for weeks. you know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

you can barely breathe. your mind is foggy, your body hotter than it should be. but you nod. not because you meant to—because your body betrays you. you nod like you’re begging for it.

his touch becomes greedier then, both hands sliding over your hips, gripping them tight as he pulls you back into him. you feel every inch of him now, thick and heavy and so, so hard. it makes your knees weak, your arms shaky as you try to hold yourself up. your pussy pulses between your legs, wetness spreading and soaking into the thin fabric of your leggings.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, voice husky. “you feel that? this what you wanted, baby?”

your mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first. your voice is caught in your throat. you can only nod again, hips rolling back into him, seeking more friction. his fingers slide around your waist, dipping between your thighs as his chest presses against your back.

“let’s see how ready you really are,” he says, and then he’s peeling your leggings down slowly—agonizingly slow. they drag over your ass, cling to your thighs, and fall in a soft puddle at your knees. cool air hits your skin, but you barely notice it—too consumed by the burn of his gaze as he steps back for just a moment to take you in.

he groans, low and raw. “fuck. look at you.”

his fingers return, sliding between your legs, spreading you open from behind. he hisses at how wet you are, his touch gliding through the slick pooling there. he doesn’t even need to prep you—your body’s already begging. he circles your clit once, then twice, and your whole body jumps, back arching, a soft cry slipping from your lips.

“you’re dripping,” he growls. “just from this? from me pressing my cock against you?”

you nod, dizzy with need. it’s humiliating how easy it is for him to reduce you to this—how quickly he has you melting under his fingers. you try to say something, but all that comes out is a moan, guttural and broken, as he slides one thick finger inside you.

he pumps it slowly, then adds a second, stretching you open with expert precision. your walls flutter around him, greedy and pulsing, as he scissors you wide. he curves his fingers up just right and your legs almost give out. a whimper rips from your throat, loud and helpless.

“that’s it,” he breathes, fucking you with his hand now, rhythm fast and steady. “so tight around my fingers. you’d take my cock so well, wouldn’t you?”

you don’t even hesitate. “yes—yes, jay—please—”

his other hand returns to your clit, rubbing tight, messy circles that match the motion of his fingers inside you. your hips jerk, trying to keep up with him, trying to match the rhythm, but it’s overwhelming. every nerve is on fire. every touch feels like it’s dragging you closer to the edge.

“you’re gonna cum for me just like this,” he whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “so fucking desperate. didn’t even need my cock. just needed me.”

your body responds before your brain can. you’re gasping, moaning, choking on his name as your orgasm crashes into you. your thighs shake, knees buckling as you cry out, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. your cunt clenches hard around his fingers, pulsing with wave after wave of pleasure. you can’t stop shaking. your vision blurs. you’re soaked—dripping down your legs, onto his hands, the bench beneath you stained with your arousal.

he groans behind you, breath hot and labored.

“fuck, baby,” he says, dragging his soaked fingers down the inside of your thigh. “look what you did. made such a mess for me.”

you can barely think. your body is limp, trembling, twitching with aftershocks. you feel his lips press to your lower back, soft and slow. grounding. almost sweet.

“next time,” he whispers, voice deep and dark and promising, “i’ll make you cum on my cock instead.”

you let out a soft, broken noise in response. you don’t even know what you’re saying anymore. your body is weightless. your skin hums.

but then—

you gasp.

your eyes fly open.

your chest is heaving. the air in your room is cool and dry, completely still. your sheets are damp and tangled around your legs, clinging to your thighs. your heart is pounding in your ears, and your core is throbbing—still clenching around nothing, still dripping from a climax that didn’t really happen. your breath catches in your throat as you look around, as you realize—

you’re alone.

no jay. no weights. no fingers inside you.

just your own body, aching and trembling in the dark.

it was a dream. just a dream.

and yet—your panties are soaked through. your thighs still stick when you move. your clit still throbs from where phantom fingers once were. it all felt so real. so raw.

your hands drag sluggishly across your face, palms rubbing at your bleary, unfocused eyes as you blink against the soft morning light bleeding in through your curtains. your limbs feel heavy, weighed down by the aftermath of last night’s orgasm and the sleep that barely touched you. there’s a faint ache in your thighs and a dull throb low in your belly—remnants of the way you touched yourself, the way you thought about him. about jay. and it’s almost comforting, that slow, sinful burn still lingering under your skin.

you reach lazily for your phone on the nightstand, fingers fumbling against the cool surface until you finally wrap your hand around it. the screen lights up, glowing too bright against your tired eyes, and you squint at the notifications that fill the display. your heart skips when you see them.

five messages.

from jay.

your brows knit together in a sleepy confusion, thumb hovering over the screen before you swipe to read them. your mind is still sluggish, the words not fully registering until you glance at the time in the corner—and then your stomach drops. the haze of sleep evaporates instantly.

you’re an hour late.

your breath stutters in your throat as panic rushes through your chest, sharp and electric. your eyes widen, your body jolting upright as the realization fully sinks in. you were supposed to be at the gym. you were supposed to be with him. right now. and instead, you’re still tangled in your sheets, hair a mess, skin flushed from sleep and the shameful thoughts you let yourself drown in the night before.

“fuck,” you whisper under your breath, voice hoarse as you throw the covers off and scramble out of bed.

your movements are frantic—hands tugging your shirt over your head, fingers yanking your panties down in one harsh motion. they stick to your skin, damp from more than just sweat, and the feeling makes your stomach twist with something guilty and hot. you toss the fabric aside without a second thought, rushing into the bathroom, bare feet slapping against the cool tile.

you don’t even let the water fully heat before you step under the stream, the temperature stinging at first but quickly fading into a scalding comfort. it slides down your skin, washing away the traces of sleep and the filth clinging to your thoughts. you scrub yourself in a frenzy, fingers dragging the loofah over your skin in quick, shaky motions. there’s no time to savor anything, no time to enjoy the warmth or the way the steam curls around your shoulders. all you can think about is jay. his unread messages. the way his face might look when you walk in late. disappointed. unreadable. maybe pissed.

your heart races faster at the thought.

you work shampoo through your hair with trembling fingers, scrubbing hard at your scalp like it’ll clear the fog in your mind. your chest rises and falls too quickly, breath shaky as your pulse pounds in your ears. what if he’s mad? you rinse, let the water beat down on your face, and close your eyes just for a second—only to see his again. the way they stared at you in the mirror. sharp. hungry. like he already knew what you’d do the second you got home.

and fuck, he was right.

you finish the fastest shower of your life, stepping out onto the bath mat with water still dripping down your legs. you barely towel off—just enough to get your skin dry enough to slide into your clothes. your black sports bra clings tight against your damp skin, molding to the curve of your breasts as you hook it behind your back. the biker shorts come next, stretched up over your hips in one swift motion, hugging your body snugly, your cunt still faintly sore underneath them from the way you came against your fingers just hours before.

you grab your socks, your shoes, your gym bag all in one chaotic breath, flinging the strap over your shoulder and nearly tripping over yourself as you rush toward the door. keys in one hand, phone in the other, heart slamming against your ribs with every passing second.

you don’t even look in the mirror before you leave.

don’t check your hair, don’t fix your flushed cheeks, don’t try to calm your nerves. you’re already too far gone, already imagining what you’ll say when you see him. if you say anything. because really—what do you even say to the man you moaned for in the shower? to the man whose name spilled out of your mouth as you came all over your own fingers?

the car ride is a blur. red lights, honking horns, the buzz of your phone vibrating again with one last message you don’t have the courage to open.

and when the gym finally comes into view—cold and familiar under the morning light—you feel your throat tighten. your thighs clench instinctively.

you walk in quickly, your shoes squeaking slightly against the polished floor, the cold air of the gym brushing against your skin and doing nothing to soothe the way your body’s already burning up with nerves. your breath is still uneven from the rush, your pulse racing from the inside out. your hair’s ruined—messy from the fastest shower of your life, tangled and still slightly damp, clinging to your temples and the back of your neck. strands fall across your face with every step, and you don’t even try to push them back.

because the moment your eyes meet his, you forget how to move.

jay is standing a few feet away, tall and silent, arms crossed over his chest like he’s been waiting. and not patiently. his entire body is stiff, still, as if he’s holding something back—something sharp. his jaw is tense, mouth set in a firm line, and it’s not the same look he wore yesterday. there’s no teasing in his expression now. no smirk, no curiosity, no lingering softness beneath the surface. just a hard, cold stare that lands on you and doesn’t move.

your feet stop like they’ve been nailed to the floor.

you suck in a shaky breath, chest rising with the effort, but your lungs feel too tight. your stomach coils on itself, heat flushing down your neck as the weight of his gaze settles heavy on your shoulders. it’s like he’s reading you—picking you apart with just a glance, like he can see every reason you were late, every shameful thought that kept you in bed a little too long, every mark your own fingers left behind.

your hands fumble to unclip your gym bag, fingers unsteady as you drop it onto the bench beside you. the zipper snags a little. you don’t even bother fixing it. everything feels off. too quiet. too tense. and still, jay doesn’t say a word.

you take a careful step closer, trying to find your voice, even though your throat is dry, your tongue heavy, like it’s stuck to the roof of your mouth. you wet your lips without thinking, your eyes flicking up to his once more, searching for something—anything—beneath that unreadable mask he’s wearing.

“jay, i—”

your voice cracks. it’s soft, small, far too fragile. you’re not even sure what you were going to say. maybe an apology. maybe an excuse. maybe a desperate plea for him to just look at you the way he did yesterday—like he wanted to tear you open and crawl inside. but you never get the chance.

“save it.”

his voice cuts through you like a blade. low. calm. controlled. and somehow, that’s worse than if he’d shouted.

your mouth shuts immediately, your breath catching as his words hang heavy in the air. you nod before you even think to, the motion instinctive—submissive. your heart pounds in your ears, and your body responds without permission, feet shuffling into motion as you try not to crumble under the weight of everything you want to say but can’t.

he doesn’t move toward you. doesn’t give you even the smallest indication of what he’s thinking. but his eyes—fuck, his eyes—they stay locked on you, following your every step like he’s measuring how far he can push you before you break. he doesn’t look curious. he looks sure. like he already knows.

he tilts his head slightly toward the mat in front of him, chin angled down, gaze sharp.

“get ready to do sit-ups, y/n.”

your name on his tongue sounds clipped. colder than before. professional, almost. but not quite. not when it’s him. not when you’re still reeling from the memory of his voice whispering filth into your ear in your dreams.

you nod again, smaller this time. your legs feel stiff as you walk toward the mat, your breathing still uneven, the air thick and strange. it’s all wrong. this isn’t how things usually go. jay always greets you with at least something. a word. a look. sometimes a smirk. sometimes that condescending little tilt of his head that made your knees wobble more than the workouts ever did.

but today? nothing.

not a single sound passes your lips as you nod once and move toward the mat, your movements quiet and rushed, careful not to make any more mistakes than you already have. your body feels stiff, your heart beating uncomfortably loud in your ears, each thump echoing the shame still curling in your stomach. you drop to your knees before lying back, your spine pressing flat to the floor, cool against your skin even through your clothes.

you know this routine. your muscles remember the order—the placement of your arms, the bend in your knees, the strain in your core—but today it all feels different. heavier. tighter. like you’re performing under a spotlight with no applause at the end. your hands rise to rest near your temples, elbows angled wide as you settle into position. your knees are bent just right, feet planted firmly into the mat, and yet nothing feels stable. not with him so close. not with that unreadable tension still radiating off of him like a silent warning.

you hear his footsteps approach before you see him. slow. measured. unhurried. jay stops at the top of your mat, standing tall above your bent legs. he doesn’t kneel. doesn’t crouch. doesn’t even look like he’s planning to move anytime soon. he’s positioned right in front of your knees, arms still crossed over his chest, gaze heavy as it lingers down your body like he’s sizing you up, but not in the way he used to. not in that lingering, teasing, near-predatory way that made your insides twist with anticipation.

this look is colder. clinical. distant.

“you’re going to do twenty,” he says finally, his tone stripped of emotion, every word firm and clipped like a checklist item. “i want them to be precise.”

you nod again, barely managing to breathe past the knot forming in your throat.

you start your first rep. your body moves instinctively, muscles activating as your core tightens, your shoulders lifting off the mat. you curl up slowly, chest rising until it presses lightly against your thighs. your elbows stay wide, your hands by your face. your breath comes out in soft, controlled exhales. it’s not difficult—not yet—but your body is tense in a different way. not from effort. from him. from the silence. from the way you feel his eyes follow you the entire time, burning into your skin like he’s waiting for you to fail.

when you reach the top of the sit-up, you pause briefly—just long enough to look up at him. your eyes search his face for something. encouragement, maybe. a nod. a sliver of softness. some sign that he doesn’t hate you right now.

but all you’re met with is a blank stare.

his eyes meet yours, but they don’t offer anything. no warmth, no recognition, not even that smug little glint that used to drive you crazy. his expression is unreadable—his jaw tense, his features locked in place like stone. you don’t even know if he’s breathing.

your stomach twists painfully.

you drop back down, your shoulders hitting the mat, and you rise again. a second sit-up. same motion. same ache. and yet, everything about it feels harder now. not because your body can’t handle it—but because his silence is heavier than any weight you’ve ever lifted.

you reach the top again. your chest grazes your thighs. your eyes flick up.

still nothing.

no nod. no flicker of approval. no soft good. no teasing keep going.

he just stares.

you keep going. the reps start to blur together. three. four. five. your breath comes harder, your abs starting to burn slightly, but it’s nothing compared to the ache spreading through your chest. you don’t know why it hurts so much, why the absence of his usual taunts feels worse than anything he could’ve said. it’s the way he keeps watching you without reacting. like he’s above responding. like you don’t even deserve the words.

and maybe you don’t. not after what you did. not after showing up late, flushed and guilty, with the memory of his voice still echoing in your head while your panties stuck to your skin.

you lose count for a moment, mind spinning as you go back down, then lift again, pushing through the tension in your core, your arms still beside your face. every time you come up, you’re right there—face to face with his stare. every time, you search for something. and every time, he gives you nothing.

the silence stretches on.

the tension tightens.

you try to keep going, but your body is no longer cooperating the way it should.

your movements start to falter, your breath quickening in short, desperate bursts as your core burns from the effort. each sit-up becomes harder to complete—your elbows trembling, your back aching slightly with strain—but you don’t stop. you can’t. because even though you reached the twentieth rep—the number he told you to hit—he didn’t say you were finished. he didn’t give you that nod, that small flicker of approval, that quiet good job he sometimes throws your way like a crumb.

no, he just stood there. unmoving. unreadable.

so you push into twenty-one. twenty-two. twenty-three. every time you rise, the burn intensifies, and the sweat collecting at your brow slides down your temple, curling under your jaw. your hair is sticking to your cheeks now, your breathing growing more ragged with every rep, and the fire in your abdomen only twists tighter as you fight to keep your form clean, sharp, controlled.

but it isn’t the physical effort that’s making you tremble now. it’s him.

jay hasn’t looked away once. his arms remain crossed over his chest, his stance still stiff and locked in place, but his eyes—god, his eyes—they never leave your body. they trail after every lift of your chest, every twitch of your arms, every slip in your form. they’re cold, hard, unreadable—but you can feel the storm brewing behind them. something simmering just beneath the surface, like he’s holding back more than just his voice.

he’s angry. you can feel it in the silence. in the way he hasn’t spoken a word since the command he gave you. in the way he’s letting you exhaust yourself, letting you burn, sweat, struggle—just to make a point.

you made him wait. you didn’t show up on time. and now he’s showing you what that costs.

your movements start to stutter more, your knees shifting slightly, your back beginning to curve as the fatigue hits deeper than your muscles. you try to fix it on your own, but it’s too late. he sees it.

and then he finally moves.

his steps are slow, deliberate. you don’t even see him kneel—you just feel him. one second, he’s standing over you like a judgment you can’t escape, and the next, his hands are on you. large, warm, unforgiving. his fingers press into your sides as he adjusts your hips, nudging you back into the position he wants. his touch is firm but not rough—controlled. precise. like he’s sculpting you into the version he prefers.

but he doesn’t stop once the correction is made. not this time.

his hands stay.

his fingers glide slowly along your waist, brushing just under the edge of your sports bra. the touch is barely there—ghostlike, more warmth than pressure—but it lights a fire under your skin. you suck in a sharp breath, body freezing for a second beneath the soft sweep of his fingertips. they trail lower, passing over the curve of your hip, lingering at the edge of your shorts like they might dip inside if you just moved wrong enough.

you gasp—quiet and instinctive. it slips from your lips before you can stop it, and the sound lingers in the air like a confession.

jay hears it. he always does.

his fingers pause, just for a moment, like he’s letting the sound register. then, slowly, he leans forward, his face close enough that his breath ghosts along the side of your cheek. your eyes flutter open to meet his, and the weight of his gaze pins you flat to the mat.

“how many times do i have to correct you?”

his voice is low—soft, almost—but there’s no gentleness in it. it’s cold. calculated. the words slip out like a reprimand and a threat all at once. they don’t rise above a murmur, and yet they feel louder than anything else in the room. his eyes lock onto yours, and the intensity of his stare makes your throat tighten, your lips parting around a shaky breath.

you try to answer, but nothing comes out. your brain is too fogged, your body too hypersensitive, your skin still tingling from where he touched you. and he sees it. he watches the way your mouth opens slightly, how your lashes flutter, how your legs press just a little tighter together even though you’re supposed to be focused on your form.

you think you can hide behind innocence. but you can’t.

not when your body gives you away so easily.

he sees the way your chest rises with every breath, how your gasps get softer, more airy, more needy when he leans too close. he sees the tremble in your thighs, the quiver in your lip, the way you glance away and then right back, like you want to be scolded. want to be touched again.

you sit up fast, body still buzzing, limbs weak beneath you as your shaky hands push against the mat to help you stand. your legs don’t feel steady. your thighs tremble faintly as you move, and your chest rises and falls in sharp, uneven bursts that you can’t quite control. you barely make it to the bench before collapsing onto it, breath spilling out in soft pants as your hand comes up to wipe the sweat clinging to your bare shoulder with the back of your wrist.

your body feels overheated. flushed and overwhelmed. your skin burns everywhere—where his hands touched, where his hips pressed into yours, where his voice dropped too close to your throat. and now, with him still standing there, still watching, it’s like your whole body is on fire.

you try to play it off. to catch your breath, to cool yourself down.

“l-let’s just… take a break,” you mumble, voice unsteady, a little too thin.

you lift your hand in a weak attempt to fan yourself, the motion useless, more of a distraction than anything else. your eyes flick upward, trying to meet his, but they only land on his chest—broad and still rising subtly with each of his slow breaths. then lower, without thinking, and your stomach turns.

he’s still hard.

still tenting his sweats, his cock clearly pressing against the thin fabric like he hasn’t even tried to hide what just happened. your mouth goes dry. your gaze lingers too long before you catch yourself, eyes darting back up to his face, only to find him already watching you.

his expression changes.

just for a second, his mouth twitches—tightening into something sharp, something cold. his eyes narrow slightly, like he’s about to say something you won’t like, and your heart skips. but it disappears just as fast. smoothed over. replaced by that same neutral mask you’ve seen so many times before.

he steps forward.

it’s slow. unhurried. and you feel the air change around you as he closes the distance, his body blocking out the light, casting a shadow over your lap as he stops right in front of where you sit. your eyes trail up to his again—slow, reluctant—and you realize you’re holding your breath.

“you come late,” he says, voice even but firm. “and now you’re needing a break?”

you tense. his tone isn’t angry, but it cuts through you anyway, sharp with disappointment, as if your body betraying you is somehow an inconvenience to him. you want to argue. to snap back. but the way he looks down at you—like you’re something small, like you’ve given him exactly what he expected—keeps your lips pressed tightly together.

his stare remains blank. unreadable. not cold anymore, not exactly. just... calculated. like he’s measuring your reaction, watching you squirm under the weight of his presence. and it’s starting to get under your skin. it always does.

you’ve never been able to crack him. not once.

not when he’s like this. not when he decides to shut you out completely, bury everything under that perfect blankness. it frustrates you. confuses you. especially after what just happened—after the way his hips rolled into yours like he wanted to fuck you through the mat. how could he just shift back into this version of himself like he wasn’t grinding against your soaked core moments ago?

but then your eyes drop again. you can’t help it.

his cock still strains against the fabric of his sweats—thick, hard, unmistakable. it’s there, evidence that whatever he’s pretending doesn’t exist between you? it does. and it has a pulse.

before you can think too hard, a sound breaks the silence.

a soft chuckle.

low. deep. lazy. it rolls from his throat like a slow exhale, not loud, but sharp enough to slice straight through your thoughts. it sends a chill down your spine. not because it’s cruel. but because it’s the first thing he’s given you that feels real.

your head lifts sharply, eyes locking on his face again. and this time, for just a split second, you swear there’s something there. a flicker of amusement. hunger. maybe even pride.

you’re still breathing hard when he steps forward, and even though he’s not touching you, it feels like he might as well be. the space between you evaporates with every inch he closes, and you feel your pulse spike in your throat the moment he casts his shadow over your lap. he towers above you, quiet and controlled, while you sit on the edge of the bench like something wound too tight—flushed, trembling, your inner thighs already sticky with proof of what you’ve let happen.

his expression doesn’t change, not visibly. he still wears that unreadable mask, calm and perfectly in control, but there’s something sharp hiding just beneath the surface. something in the slight tilt of his head, the measured stillness of his breath, the way his eyes trail over you without softening. and you know—without a doubt—that he’s waiting for you to say something. to admit something. to give in.

your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. your chest is rising and falling too fast, your hands pressing into the bench beneath you like you're grounding yourself, trying to keep from shaking apart. your lips part again with a breathy start of a word you don’t have the courage to finish, and that’s when he speaks—quiet, almost lazy, like he has all the time in the world to unravel you.

“you keep acting like i did something to you,” he murmurs, voice low and infuriatingly calm, like the truth he’s about to drop won’t leave you completely destroyed. “like i touched you first. like i crossed a line.”

your heart jumps in your chest. your fingers curl tight against the edge of the bench. your eyes lift to his face just in time to see the glint in his eyes—subtle, dangerous, the kind of satisfaction that only comes from knowing he has you exactly where he wants you.

“but we both know who started it,” he continues, stepping just a little closer now, his tone dropping lower, quieter, every syllable drawing out like he’s savoring it. “you remember, don’t you?”

you freeze. your breath catches painfully in your throat. you already know what he’s about to say, but hearing it in his voice—hearing him take it and twist it, throw it back at you—makes your skin burn with something hotter than shame.

“you were the one backing into me,” he says, and there’s a weight behind his words now, a slow pressure like a hand curling tight around your neck. “grinding your ass on my cock during squats like you wanted it there. like you needed it there.”

your whole body tenses, and the heat between your legs only grows worse. you can’t hide it. you don’t even try. his voice is too much—rough and steady, threaded with dark amusement and something far more dangerous. your eyes drop on instinct, landing low—right where he knows they’ll go—and there it is. the outline of his cock, thick and hard through his sweats, no longer something you can pretend not to notice.

“you kept going,” he says. “pushing back on every rep. not pulling away. not saying a word. just letting me feel how turned on you were.”

you inhale sharply, and it’s humiliating how shaky it sounds. your knees try to press together, but it’s too little too late. he’s already seen it. he’s seen everything. your soaked thighs, your trembling hands, the way your eyes keep flicking down to his bulge like it’s gravity pulling them there.

his voice drops lower. darker. quieter.

“and then you let me touch you.”

your lips part, but you can’t form a response. your tongue feels thick, useless, your thoughts spinning out of control as he steps in even closer—still not touching, but close enough now that you feel his body heat bleed into your skin.

“you let me correct your posture. touch your waist. slide my hands over your hips. rub your shoulders like i owned them. and you didn’t stop me. you didn’t even blink.”

he leans down now, just slightly, just enough that his mouth hovers near your ear, and the air in your lungs goes still.

“you fucking wanted it,” he whispers. “and now you’re sitting here acting like you’re tired? like you didn’t spend the last fifteen minutes soaked and desperate for more?”

you shiver beneath his words. your whole body clenches, thighs twitching, breath locked up in your chest as you try and fail to form a single coherent thought. you want to argue. deny it. fight back. but everything in your body betrays you.

before you can even act—before your breath settles, before your mind catches up to your body—he’s already moving.

jay doesn’t give you the chance to speak. doesn’t give you time to change your mind. his hands are at the waistband of his sweatpants, thumbs hooking into the band of his boxers, and he drags both of them down in one fluid motion. the fabric slides low on his hips, past the muscle of his thighs, and then his cock springs free—thick, flushed, hard. it bounces slightly against his abdomen as it’s released, the head glistening wet with precum.

he exhales a low, guttural sound from deep in his throat, not loud, but full of tension. his hand wraps around the base without hesitation, fingers curling around his length like it’s a habit, like he’s been waiting for this all day. his other hand reaches for you, slipping into your hair, threading through the strands with fingers that are both steady and possessive.

he pulls your head closer—not rough, not forceful yet, but enough to make your lips part instinctively as you look up at him, wide-eyed and breathless.

“why don’t you be a good girl for once,” he murmurs, voice heavy with heat, “and show me what you’ve been wanting?”

you barely have time to register the words before the head of his cock taps against your mouth, sticky with precum, smearing it across your lips like he’s marking you. he doesn’t wait for permission. doesn’t wait for consent that’s already written all over your face, in the way you moan softly, lips falling open without hesitation, tongue flicking out just slightly to taste him.

the moment you do, he groans again. rougher this time.

you wrap your lips around the tip, soft and slow, your mouth warm and wet as you suck him in. the taste of him hits your tongue first—salty and bitter, thick with heat—and the reaction it pulls from him is immediate. his hips jerk just slightly, his hand tightens in your hair, and a low “fuck…” slips past his lips like he’s trying to hold it back and failing.

you take him deeper, inch by inch, your mouth stretching to accommodate him. your jaw aches almost instantly, but you push through it, needing more. your tongue slides along the underside, tracing the thick vein that runs the length of him, and the sound he makes above you nearly makes your thighs squeeze together.

you get halfway—maybe a little more—but it’s not enough for him.

not even close.

his hand flexes in your hair again, and suddenly he’s pushing forward, guiding your head down slowly but firmly until the tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat. your nose brushes against the hard plane of his abdomen, your eyes watering instantly from the stretch, from the pressure, from the sheer size of him filling your mouth so completely.

you gag softly, throat tightening around him as your fingers curl against his thighs, and the reaction it pulls from him is pure filth. his teeth sink into his bottom lip, biting down hard as his brows furrow, hips twitching with restraint. he’s breathing heavier now—slow and deliberate—like he’s savoring the way your mouth feels around him, like he’s never going to forget the image of you on your knees, lips stretched wide, cheeks hollowed out with effort as you choke on his cock.

his voice is barely a whisper when it comes.

“fuck… just like that.”

your mouth is stretched wide, your lips swollen and slick, and jay is buried so deep down your throat you can barely breathe. but you don’t want to pull away. you don’t even think about stopping. your knees are starting to ache, your jaw sore from the strain, tears already brimming along your lashes—but none of it matters. not with the way he’s looking down at you like you’re the best fucking thing he’s ever seen.

he starts slow. his hips rock forward just enough to feel the pressure, just enough to make your throat constrict around him with every push. your gag reflex twitches but you breathe through it, fingers curling tight around his thighs for stability, for something to hold on to. your tongue flattens against the underside of his cock, the thick vein pulsing against the back of your tongue with every lazy thrust. your spit coats him already, warm and slippery, and every time he pulls back, it strings between your lips and the flushed tip of his cock.

jay groans low in his chest, one hand still threaded in your hair while the other braces at his side. his jaw is clenched, his breath heavy, but his face stays trained on you—on the way your cheeks hollow when you suck him in, the way your throat tightens and trembles as you take more of him, deeper, sloppier, hungrier with every stroke.

and then, without warning, he shifts. his fingers flex, his grip in your hair tightens, and he pulls your head forward again—not rough, not violent, but firm, like he knows exactly what you can take and exactly how to give it to you. his hips meet the motion, pushing deeper. suddenly his cock is shoved farther down your throat, nudging the tightest part, and your body flinches. your eyes snap open, watering instantly, your nails digging into his thighs.

he doesn’t stop.

his hips begin to move in earnest now. slow, deep thrusts at first, then faster, more rhythm to it. more weight. each time he pushes in, your throat strains around him, your gag reflex fluttering again and again as your spit spills from the corners of your mouth. you’re choking softly with every breath, but fuck—you want to. you want the mess. you want the ache. you want the way he moans your name under his breath like he’s never heard anything sweeter.

“fuck,” he groans, low and rough, eyes dark with lust as he watches your lips stretch around him. “you were made for this—look at you.”

you’re not even sure you hear him at first, not through the thick haze of wet sounds and breathless need, but it lands somewhere deep in your chest. it makes your core clench, makes your thighs press together, makes your entire body react to the filthy praise as he keeps fucking your mouth like it belongs to him.

you gag around him again, this time harder, and the sound makes him groan louder, his hips stuttering just slightly. he pulls back—not all the way, just enough to let you breathe for a second—and his cock glistens with your spit, twitching as another drop of precum beads at the tip and smears across your lip.

you gasp, drawing in air like it’s the first you’ve had in hours, your mouth still open, still ready, tongue peeking out like you’re starving for him.

he hisses, his grip on your hair tightening again as he pushes forward.

“don’t stop now,” he mutters, breath ragged. “not when you’re doing so fucking good.”

and then he’s moving again—faster, harder, thrusting into your mouth with less restraint now, letting the wet slap of skin and the messy, desperate rhythm fill the room. his cock pounds the back of your throat, and you can’t help the whimper that bubbles up from deep inside your chest. spit drips down your chin, thick and glossy, soaking into the collar of your shirt. your eyes blur. your legs tremble. you’re falling apart on your knees, and all he’s doing is watching.

he looks wrecked. sweat beading at his temple, brows furrowed, lips parted as he fucks into your mouth like he’s not going to last much longer.

“shit,” he breathes, voice shaking. “fuck, your throat—feels so good—squeezing me—god, baby, i’m not gonna—”

his hips stutter. his cock twitches. your throat tightens one more time around the weight of him, and he groans, loud and broken and raw as he grabs the back of your head with both hands, holding you there as he buries himself deep.

you gag softly around him, tears spilling over your cheeks as his cock pulses against your tongue.

and then he cums.

hot and thick, the first spurt hits the back of your throat without warning. then another. and another. he grunts low as he holds your head still, forcing you to take it all, his breath shaking, body shuddering with every wave of release. you swallow as best you can, but it’s messy—some of it dripping past your lips, sliding down your chin as you choke softly on the heat of it.

he finally pulls back, just barely, and you suck in air through your nose, blinking through the tears as his cock slips from your mouth with a wet pop. you’re wrecked—drool and cum on your lips, your chest heaving, your throat raw.

jay looks down at you.

and even through the mess, the ruin, the flushed haze of satisfaction on his face—there’s still hunger in his eyes.

you barely have time to catch your breath. your throat’s raw, lips slick with spit and his cum, chest rising and falling in quick, uneven pants. you glance up at him through wet lashes, dazed, thinking maybe—just maybe—he’ll pull back, give you a break, let you recover. but he doesn’t. not even for a second.

his hand grips your jaw, thumb swiping across your cheek like he's wiping his cum from the corner of your mouth, and before you can say a word, he’s grabbing your wrist and yanking you up. your legs barely hold you—unsteady, weak, trembling—but he’s already pulling you forward with him, your body moving on instinct as he drops down onto the bench and tugs you into his lap. his grip on your hips is bruising, his breath heavy with restraint, and the second you straddle him, you feel it—his cock, already hard again, pressed thick and hot between your thighs.

“get on,” he growls, voice deep and wrecked. “you want it? then ride it.”

your mouth parts with a gasp, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it. “j-jay…”

your voice trembles, soft and needy, and the second it leaves you, he twitches beneath you. his eyes snap up to yours, his expression shifting—something sharp and dark curling in the corners of his mouth.

“fuck,” he mutters, dragging your soaked shorts down with both hands, baring your cunt in one smooth, practiced motion. “you’re already moaning my name again, huh? didn’t even get my cock inside you yet.”

you shiver, your hands bracing against his shoulders, your pussy slick and throbbing as he lines himself up with your entrance. the swollen tip of his cock slides against your folds, and the sound that slips out of you is pure need—raw, breathless, aching.

“jay, please,” you whimper, your voice cracking as you try to lower yourself onto him, your thighs shaking from the effort.

“yeah?” he taunts, his grip tightening on your hips. “go ahead, sweetheart. take it.”

you do.

you sink down, slow at first, the thick stretch of him forcing a cry from your throat as your cunt swallows inch after inch. the fullness makes your head drop back, your fingers digging into his arms as he groans low against your skin, the sound guttural, almost feral.

“fuck—you feel that?” he grits out, voice right at your ear. “feel how tight you are around me?”

“yes,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper, your walls fluttering as you bottom out, the tip of his cock buried so deep inside you it feels like you can’t take it. “fuck, jay—feels so good…”

his hands slide up your sides, then back down to your ass, gripping you hard as he starts to move. he thrusts up into you with no patience, setting a rough, unforgiving pace that forces your body to bounce in his lap with every snap of his hips. it’s fast. aggressive. deliberate. like he’s trying to fuck the breath out of your lungs, like he’s trying to fuck his name into the pit of your stomach.

you cry out, loud and messy, your hands scrabbling for something to hold onto as he slams into you again, again, again. each thrust forces a gasp of his name from your lips, your moans dissolving into broken syllables that don’t even sound human.

“jay—fuck—jay, please, i—”

he laughs. dark. breathless.

“god, you sound so fucking pretty like this,” he mutters, eyes locked on your mouth. “moaning my name like you need it just to breathe.”

your head tips forward, your forehead pressing to his as your voice trembles, full of everything you can’t hide anymore. “i do—fuck, i do, jay—don’t stop, please, don’t stop—”

“i’m not fucking stopping,” he growls, fucking up into you harder, faster, his grip bruising now. “not until you scream it. not until you cum all over my cock and say my name like you fuckin’ mean it.”

and when your eyes crack open—wet, wide, desperate—and you meet his in the mirror across the room, what you see undoes you completely.

your mouth is parted, your body bouncing in his lap, his hands bruising your hips as he thrusts up into you with the kind of rhythm that makes your whole body shake. your hair is sticking to your sweat-slick skin, your throat hoarse from crying out, and your pussy’s so soaked, you can hear it—wet and filthy with every slam of his hips into yours.

his voice is in your ear again.

“look at you,” he hisses, snapping his hips up into you so hard your whole body jolts. “so fucked out you can’t even speak, just moaning my name like a good little slut.”

you can’t hold it in anymore.

“*jay—oh my god, jay, please—fuck, i’m gonna—”

“yeah?” he growls. “you gonna cum? right here on my cock, in front of the fuckin’ mirror?”

you nod, whimpering, helpless, hands clawing at his shoulders. “yes—please, let me—need to—need to cum so bad—”

he grabs you by the throat again, not tight, just enough to keep you still, to keep your eyes on the mirror as he fucks into you harder than ever, the bench underneath creaking from the force of it.

“then cum,” he snarls. “cum for me, baby. let me hear you scream my name like you fucking mean it.”

you don’t stand a chance.

not with the way he’s fucking into you—fast and deep, relentless, rough. not with the way your knees are already buckling on either side of his hips, your legs barely holding on. not with the sound of your own moans echoing off the gym walls, getting louder, higher, more desperate every time he thrusts up into your dripping cunt like he’s trying to split you open.

and definitely not with the way he’s holding you—one hand braced on the small of your back, pressing you forward, forcing your spine to curve and your chest to push against his while his other hand curls around your throat again, gentle but firm, controlling your breath and your view and your body all at once.

his mouth is at your ear, hot and ragged, words slipping past his teeth like they’ve been sitting on his tongue for too long.

“you hear yourself?” he growls, hips slamming up into you so hard your breath hitches mid-moan. “fuckin’ crying for it, baby. you gonna cum for me like that?”

your voice breaks—another moan of his name, raw and high and aching. “j-jay—”

he bites down on your shoulder—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who’s in control—and the way your body clenches around him in response makes him groan low against your skin.

“that’s it,” he mutters, voice strained. “say it again. moan my name while i ruin this tight little pussy.”

you do.

you can’t stop. his name keeps falling from your lips like it’s the only word you remember. you’re shaking now, full-body trembles that start in your thighs and travel up your spine, and your nails scrape down his shoulders as you cling to him, cunt fluttering wildly around his cock as the pressure builds too fast.

“jay—please—fuck, i’m gonna cum, i can’t—i can’t—”

you’re sobbing now, voice wrecked and falling apart, your head tipped back, your mouth wide open with a cry that turns into a full scream when he slams into you just right, again and again, never breaking pace. and then it hits.

your orgasm crashes over you like a wave you can’t outrun—violent, pulsing, blinding. your whole body goes stiff for one perfect second, your toes curling, your walls locking down around his cock like you’re trying to keep him inside forever. and then you’re shaking. gasping. your face pressed against his neck as you sob out his name again and again and again.

he growls low in your ear, his thrusts sharp and deep, chasing the clench of your cunt like he’s addicted to it.

“fuck—fuck, that’s it—cum for me, baby, that’s it—jesus, you feel so good—so fucking tight—”

he doesn’t slow down. he fucks you through it, his cock dragging through the aftershocks, making you jerk and twitch in his lap while he breathes hard against your cheek. the wet sound of your cunt swallowing him gets louder, filthier, every time he pushes back in. your slick’s everywhere—on his thighs, the bench, running down the backs of your legs—and you can feel the way his cock twitches inside you with every clench of your pussy.

he’s close.

so fucking close.

“you want it?” he pants, voice sharp with strain. “you want me to cum in this pretty pussy?”

you nod frantically, still gasping, still crying, your voice gone but your body giving him every answer he needs. your hands grab at his back, your nails dragging down hard, and he hisses when you whimper against his jaw.

“yes—jay, please, cum in me—want it—want you to fill me—fuck, please—”

that’s all it takes.

he curses—loud, sharp, filthy—and then he’s coming inside you, hips jerking up in stuttered thrusts as his cock throbs deep in your soaked, clenching cunt. he holds you down on him, buried to the base, one hand gripping your ass, the other still at your throat, and you can feel the way he shudders under your palms. feel the warmth of his release spilling into you, thick and hot, making a mess of your insides.

he breathes your name like it’s the only thing grounding him. like he needs to say it or he’ll lose his mind completely.

your body collapses against him, still shaking, still pulsing around him as he slows—his hips rolling lazily, drawing out the last wave of his orgasm until you’re both panting and soaked, glued together in a mess of sweat and cum and need.

in the mirror, you catch a glimpse of yourself.

your hair is stuck to your forehead. your lips are parted. your thighs are trembling around his. and your pussy is still wrapped tight around his cock, cum already leaking down the inside of your legs.

natty's notesᝰ.ᐟ okay i want feedback for this, honestly idk how i feel about it >-< but i hoped you all still enjoyed !

#enhypen #enha #enha smut #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #heeluvv #park jongseong #jongseong x reader #jongseong smut #enhypen jongseong #enhypen jay x you #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jay #jay smut

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mostly-imagines · 1 year ago

Text

So This Is Love

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.

You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.

But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.

You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.

“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.

“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.

You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.

He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.

You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing.

“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply.

“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears.

“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”

All he can do is nod.

You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.

“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.

“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”

He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.

The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.

But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.

There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe.

He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead.

He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”

“No, I do not.”

But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.

The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.

His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.

“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.

You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”

He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”

You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.

“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement.

“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance.

You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.

“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.

In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”

“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.

You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”

Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”

You turn your head towards him, “No?”

He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that.

“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”

His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.

You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.

“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.

He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.

You laugh, “Really?”

He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”

“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.

“In my shirt.” He confirms.

You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now.

“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”

You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”

He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.

You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.

You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.

He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.

“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.

“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support.

“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.

He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”

He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place.

“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance.

He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.

He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”

You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!”

But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it.

He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.

Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.

Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.

This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor.

You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.

It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him.

You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.

“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.

You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”

He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”

You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”

He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.

You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”

“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.

“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.

You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.

Jason didn’t get it at first.

Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.

Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.

Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.

It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.

You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.

You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.

You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.

His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.

“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.

He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.

“What was that?”

You look at him, “He dropped his books.”

“Yeah, I saw. But why—”

His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”

You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.

A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.

He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.

“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.

Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”

The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.

He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.

He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.

It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.

“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.

He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.

He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.

He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.

Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?

Do you?

There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.

He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”

The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.

You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

#jason todd loves his gf #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

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luminiamore · 1 year ago

Text

IN THE A.

biker geto suguru x black hoochie mama reader

warnings: fingerfucking, soft dom sugu, he’s a tease, sugu has a big dick, but we knew this!

a/n: this man is so fine i need him neow.

second part here.

masterlist

Life has always treated you so well, beyond well, in fact. You resided in one of Atlanta’s finest lofts, debt-free at 23 despite recently graduating from college. Even though you have your own income, your generous parents still send you a fat check every week or so. You had men constantly begging on their knees to fund your entire existence, and on the occasion, women, too. Everything you wanted simply came to you with no trouble.

You wanted that cute brown skin man with the waves that you saw at the grocery store? He already has your number. You want that pretty ’90s hairstyle you saw in a vintage magazine? You were already on your way to go get it done. You want to change your dramatic nails, even though you just got them done two days ago, because you found another style you want more? Who can deny you? It’s your world.

Was it manifestation? Who knows. The one thing you do know is that the world hands you everything on a pure gold platter.

Popularity followed you whenever you went, but who could blame you? You were the epitome of everything sexy. From the way your rose-colored wedges beautifully complement your flawless white toes against your dark skin to how your denim mini skirts hug your curves and accentuate your figure, and your tops, or mainly bikini tops, enhance your boobs so well that they could make a grown man cry.

Had you been an adult woman in the 90s instead of being a high-maintenance child, you might have been a star, perhaps even one of the most iconic video vixens. However, that title belongs to your momma. The OG.

She was the sought-after beauty every top rapper wanted for their music videos. From Snoop Dogg to 50 Cent, Lil Wayne to Jay Z, Biggie - she lit up screens. She even brought fire to the feud between Tupac and Biggie when she appeared in the latter’s video. You’re almost sure that lady even told you about how Pac was nearly your father before she met your dad. And you, like the little minx you were, lived up to her status.

Now, you weren’t in those modern-day rap videos of the pretty big booty woman shaking their ass on camera. Your momma raised you to have more class than that. She taught you that your ass isn’t the biggest asset you have to offer, figuratively. Your face is, the way you make people feel is, the way you seduce people is.

That resulted in you appearing in a few music videos where the artist expressed love for someone, as those typically featured the camera focused on one girl. And that girl was you. Those got you the recognition your momma had. Those got men practically lining up to pay all your bills, those got plentiful women dying to either be you or be with you.

Your reputation preceded you; you were exceptional, operating on a different level altogether. Your complexion was flawless, your lips rich and full, and your eyes possessed a captivating allure that could weaken anyone with just one glance. You were taught to always go after the best because you are the best.

So, what the hell was your ass doing walking around in Oakland City? Wearing your ripped undercut booty shorts, which showed more booty than shorts, along with a vintage Dior top you borrowed stole from your momma, complete with a matching purse.

Your flower sandals from Dolce & Gabbana made such a powerful tapping sound, combined with the multiple pieces of gold adorning your wrists, ears, and neck, that everyone you passed couldn’t help but look to see just who it was, and they were definitely not disappointed.

You’re not stupid. You wouldn’t dream of entering one of the most dangerous areas of your hometown without protection. Your bedazzled gold pepper spray and your fully loaded Beretta Nano 9mm pistol in your purse, itching to be used if someone tries you.

They wouldn’t dare, though. Your momma wasn’t the only legendary figure in your family. Your dad ran one of the leading crime families in all of Atlanta, dealing with heavy drugs, counterfeiting, and smuggling illegal things across borders. He was feared just as equally as he was respected.

Messing with you? Your pops would send their family a well-decorated package with their son on a shirt. The last man that cheated on you was a prime example. You couldn’t feel bad for him, though, you did warn him.

To answer your earlier inquiry, which has been nagging at you since you parked your Toyota GR Supra Coupe at a motel five blocks away from the neighborhood, you were there to buy drugs. Weed, more specifically. You could have asked your father, but you really weren’t up for hearing his opinion on how he believes you smoke too much. So you go to the next best thing, Satoru Gojo.

Since your dad was focused on dealing with harder drugs, he didn’t bother with substances like shrooms or anything related to weed. He considered himself too old for that and delegated the task to his second in command and your friend since birth, Satoru. You quicken your pace, heels tapping rapidly as you approach one of his many houses. You’re almost there.

He has some of the best shit in the A, but whenever you ask him how he does it,

“I just sell it, Sis. My best friend does all the hard stuff,”

You would always roll your pretty eyes at this because this supposed best friend he always bragged about was never around. At first, you believed he fibbed about having a best friend out of embarrassment, suspecting that you were the only one who could tolerate his antics.

But you saw glimpses, small ones. A fine leather jacket hanging off his dining room chair that you know Satoru wouldn’t wear. A motorcycle helmet standing tall on the side of his kitchen counter. Your suspicions proved unfounded as your gaze shifted to a sleek, blacked-out MTT 420 Turbine Superbike as you approached Toru’s driveway.

You know damn well that can’t belong to Satoru. Your movements stop once you knock harshly on the door. You catch the faint sound of a random trap song playing through it. You can’t help but smile, amused by how predictably cliché this white-haired man-child can be. Trap music at a trap house.

Your smile fades as you’re met with a cold glare from a short, thick, light-skinned girl wearing a blonde wig. Studying her features further, you can’t help but acknowledge her prettiness. But the minute she opened her mouth, you were annoyed.

“And, who the fuck you is?” She snaps loudly, the gum she’s chewing matching her obnoxiousness. She’s too pretty for this.

“Girl, bye.” You push past her, causing her to stumble slightly, as you march into the house. Maybe she was about to say something, but you didn’t stick around to find out. With your back turned to her, you catch Satoru muttering softly and glancing past you, “Don’t even try it.”

She sucks her teeth in annoyance, slamming the door behind her as she heads back to the couch where Satoru, another man, and three other girls are seated. Wait- another man?

You glance back at the couch again, only to steady your hands on the wall you were leaning on. Woah. This man was so fine that he almost made your legs give out on you. The fuck?

His face was so pretty. Sharp black eyes and the longest hair you’ve ever seen on a man. The wife beater he wore clung tightly to his perfect skin, so much so that you could make out that he had nipple piercings. Woah. The tattoos trailing up both of his muscular arms had you ready to remind yourself to just fucking breathe. He sported washed black Chrome Heart jeans, and the pretty cross peeking from his waistband gave it away.

This man was looking at you, more like undressing you with his eyes. And you couldn’t look away.

“You can’t be knocking on my door like that Sis, I almost thought you were the feds.” Satoru hums, though he really wasn’t worried. He knew the feds couldn’t hold him for long; he had too much money for that. You quickly glance at him and roll your eyes. When you shift your gaze away from Toru, you turn back to the man who has yet to introduce himself to you.

As if he could read your mind, he rises from his seat, his towering height catching you off guard, and he saunters almost sensually towards where you’re standing in the kitchen. The minute he stands in front of you,

“Suguru Geto. You’re beautiful if you don’t mind me saying,” He brings a hand out to shake yours, his eyes never shifting from your brown ones. You glance down for a moment, and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy when you catch sight of his immaculately clean, clear polished nails, his fingers adorned with silver rings. Lord, help you.

You give him a smile when you register his compliment, “Y/n. You’re the infamous best friend I hear so much about but never see?” You raise a brow.

Suguru swears he’s died and went to heaven when he hears your honey voice. He thinks he’s met the prettiest girl he’s laid eyes on. The gold grill you have of what he remembers is the Scorpio sign confirms it. I mean, just look at you, your outfit, your jewelry, and your face.

Suguru believes he knows himself. He knows he doesn’t like girls that do “too much,” but you make it look so good. He knows he doesn’t even have a fetish for feet. But if you told him to right now, he would drop down immediately and worship yours. He believed a goddess was walking among him when you walked through the door.

“That’s me, the idiot doesn’t have anyone else,” He mutters. You let out the cutest laugh at his comment that makes his dick harden in his jeans. Lord, help him.

Satoru lets out a dramatic gasp behind the two of you, “Hey! I have Y/n!” You immediately retort at him, raising a finger at him.

“Aht! No, you don’t,” You chuckle, snickering and rolling your eyes as you catch him placing a hand on his heart as if you’ve just shot him.

“Stop hogging my best friend and come get what you came for, Sis,” He waves a bag in the air, holding at least 20 grams of weed, ignoring the two girls tugging on both of his arms.

You squeal and sprint as fast as your heels allow towards where he’s seated. Suguru follows after you slowly, feeling ashamed at the way the other two girls cling to him the moment he sits down. He wants nothing to do with them, he feels almost disgusted by their presence now that you’re here. He didn’t even realize they were here when he arrived, he was only here for Satoru.

You snatch the bag from him, slip it into your purse, and then lunge toward him for a hug, knowing he’d never let you pay, of course.

“Thank you, Toru!” Naturally, he wastes no time pushing the two girls aside to embrace you. You’ve always been his top priority. Suguru finds it challenging to look away because as you hug his best friend, your curvaceous behind is directly in his line of sight. He wishes you would hug him like that.

When you straighten, “I gotta go. You guys seem busy anyway,” You quickly utter and glance at Suguru. He seemed like he was about to say something, but you interject before he can.

“It was nice meeting you, Suguru.” You softly tell him. He might’ve just came in his pants with the way you said his name in that tone. He pauses for a moment, but before he can utter a word, you’ve already dashed out the front door.

He stills, and he turns to his lifelong best friend,

“Give me her number.”

It’s been about two hours since you arrived at your loft. You prepared yourself a nice dinner, a well-made Alfredo, before making your way to your room. You sink into the comfort of your silk sheets, retrieving your ashtray and preparing to roll up. Soft Erykah Badu playing from your Alexa Speaker. You’re interrupted by an unknown number dinging on your phone.

Who’s this?

You smile immediately, feeling a rush of nerves as you realize he asked Satoru for your number. You're accustomed to getting what you want, and right now, you want him. You eagerly await his text, noticing that he's typing.

You observe his directness. Suguru is texting you as if he knows exactly what he wants, and if there's one thing you admire in a man, it's when he's decisive and goes after what he wants. You've already decided to smoke with him, swiftly swapping your shorts for a black Juicy Tracksuit as it got windy. You opt to play a little hard to get.

Your jaw drops at the amount he sent you for an Uber. Is he crazy? While you’ve had people send you rides to go somewhere, you can’t shake the feeling that he just wanted an excuse to send you money. You’re still reeling from the shock when he immediately sends you the address to his place afterward. You grab two rolled-up blunts and slide on a pair of kitten heels. Snatching your keys, you head out when your Uber driver arrives outside.

The drive to his place is surprisingly short, almost too short. Considering how spread out the area is, you’ve only been in the car for 15 minutes, yet you’re still in the same neighborhood. You brush it off and approach his door. As you knock, you notice Suguru’s driveway filled with three vehicles: the motorcycle you saw earlier, a Mercedes E-Class, and a sleek BMW M3. You can’t help but appreciate yet another reason you’re drawn to him.

He opens the door, and you swear you wish you could pounce on him. He’s still wearing the wife beater, and when you glance up at his face, you notice his eyes are low and red. With his hair tied up in a man bun, a few strands cascading over his face, the only thought running through your mind is... He’s so pretty.

“You started getting lit without me?” You feign surprise as he welcomes you inside. He kindly takes your keys and hangs them on the holder by his door. You could feel him staring at your ass as you move to stand beside him.

He chuckles, shaking his head at you. He reaches a hand out. “You know how Satoru is. My room?” You nod, and he shivers as your long, pretty nails brush against his hand. Was everything about you so alluring?

You follow behind him, noting how he never lets go of your hand. His room, much like his style, is entirely black. Black sheets adorn a king-sized bed, with a few rock band posters hanging above where his dressers are placed. He even has a private bathroom, the door wide open. Damn, this man even has lavender incense burning on the small desk next to his bed.

“Make yourself comfortable, sweetheart,”

Don’t mind if I do. You drop your body on his bed with a plop. You start to take off your right heel, intending to reach for the left one, only to find Suguru already kneeling down, doing it for you. When he’s done, he rubs your feet for about three long seconds before pulling away. You gasp softly, looking away from his intense gaze. Is he usually this forward?

“Uh- I rolled two. I get lip gloss on the blunt,” You sputter out, retrieving them from your purse as he stands up from his position on the floor and settles onto his pillow.

He makes a tsk sound, “Don’t play with me,” He grabs only one from your raised hand and pulls a skull lighter from his jeans pocket. As you place the other one in your purse, you watch him take the first hit. You realize he enjoys eye contact because, throughout all of his movements, his eyes never leave yours.

You’re nervous. For the first time in your life, a man has made you feel nervous. His energy makes you nervous, how he observes you with such intensity makes you nervous, and even how he feeds you the blunt after taking a few hits makes you nervous.

You’re mesmerized. The effects of the blunts hit you swiftly, altering your mind and intensifying your urge to fuck this man till he sees stars.

Suguru himself has never felt this way before. He’s had a few flings here and there and has even been in a relationship or two. But he’s never felt the need to be entirely consumed by someone. The minute he saw you, it felt like time had stopped for him; he could hear how fast his heart was beating. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to give you the universe because the world is far too small for someone like you.

“You have a boyfriend?” His husky voice asks this out of respect for you. Honestly, he couldn’t give a fuck less if you had a man. You’d be his either way.

“Why? You want me?” You giggle, though you knew he did, you just wanted to tease him. As you gaze up at him through the haze, your breath catches when you observe that his eyes have darkened noticeably. You recognize that expression all too well—it mirrors the one you give the camera when it’s focused on you.

He doesn’t respond or even break a smile at your inquiry. No, his eyes are fixated on your plump, glossed lips as you take another hit. You shift your thighs a little, you don’t know how long you can wait before he makes his move.

Suguru notices, and this time, his lips twitch up a bit, “And if I did?” His whisper keeps you quiet. What the hell were you supposed to say to that? Suguru doesn’t mind your silence. He needs you to savor your angelic tune anyway since you’ll scream his name in a few minutes. Rising from his position, he tilts your chin towards him, his eyes catching note of the smoke in your mouth. Drawing his lips dangerously close to yours, he exhales softly,

“Let it go.” You don’t hesitate to listen to his command. It’s as if your mind is his now, the way he doesn’t even do anything to get your attention. As soon as the smoke escapes your lips, he inhales it, pressing his soft lips firmly against yours.

You whimper out at the force and immediately kiss him back. Suguru swears he’s already in love when he feels your lips reciprocate his action, the stickiness of your strawberry gloss making him release a sound that had you squeezing your thighs. He’s relentless, nipping and forcing his tongue to merge with yours.

His fervor with just a kiss leaves you reeling. The combination of the weed and his lips makes you feel intoxicated, causing you to grasp onto the fabric of his jeans to steady yourself. When he pulls away from you, it only makes you crave more.

You’re both breathing heavily, and the sound of Brent Faiyez playing on his speaker is long tuned out. He stares at your eyes briefly before gently pulling you down to lay on your back. You lean up to pull him into another passionate kiss,

“More, please.” You whine out, a little too desperate for your taste. You couldn’t understand why you wanted him so bad, maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the fact that your pussy was dripping the minute you saw him at Satoru’s place. You can tell he wants to take things slow, but you can’t find it in you to share the same feeling. You need him to do something to you, now.

He only whispers, “Patience, sweetheart.” And moves his lips down to your neck. Soft kisses fill your throat before he stops teasing and reaches for your zipper. He's not shocked to learn that you don't wear a bra; he could almost see your hard nipples through the velvet fabric of your hoodie.

Your sigh of satisfaction comes from the moment he wraps his lips around your dark areola and gently caresses the fat of your unattended boob. He starts slowly, listening to the sounds you make and observing how he can persuade you to moan louder. Your breath gets shaky when he gets more aggressive with his movement, pulling at your sensitive nipples. He decides that he wants more from you.

Suguru rasps out, “I know you want me to fuck you,” Your body feels on fire as his touch slithers down your stomach, grazing your belly ring. He lowers your tracksuit pants for you and throws them across his room, forbidding you to do anything that doesn’t include you receiving pleasure. Your body is anticipating as he continues, “But I need to prep you, or you won’t be able to take me,”

He toys with the slender strap of your thong, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on your face as he talks, “Be good and let me play with you for a bit, okay?”

Your fiery personality is well-known for not letting men dictate your actions. You’re quick to dismiss any nigga, and based on instinct, you’re almost prepared to snap: Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?

By now, you should realize that Suguru observes every single move you make, every slight gesture you make, when your breath catches, and even now, he detects that you intend to snap at him. He does nothing but give you a look, a dangerous look, which only implies I dare you. Suguru orchestrates a dominance so calm but prominent that you can’t help but whimper out a quiet “Yes,”

What is he doing to you?

He presses a kiss to the side of your mouth as a reward. He’s in a trance. Suguru can’t pull his gaze away from your panties. You’re so wet that it’s clinging onto the fabric as he slowly pulls it away from your lower lips. He finds himself plunging two fingers into your wet cunt before your thong even touches your knees. Fuck, you’re tight.

“Ah- shit! Sugu!” You mewl, walls immediately clenching on his thick fingers. He quickly begins to rub circles on your twitching clit, observing as you gasp and scramble under him. You’re so beautiful like this, he thinks. He doesn’t hesitate to tell you this, too.

“I know, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful, y’know that?” Your slick is dripping all over his palm as he finger fucks you. You try to keep your moans in, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your mind. But you can’t. You can’t do anything but scream out at the way his long fingers are effortlessly punishing your G-spot.

Suguru moves his fingers faster when you don’t answer him, “I asked you a question, baby.”

Your loud whimpers can be heard over his music. How could you possibly answer? You’re already starting to blank, you’re not sure you even listened to what he said. “I- Oh fuck, Yes!”

The sounds coming from your fat pussy is downright phonographic. The squishing, the squelching. Shit, it’s even dripping onto his bed, creating a wet stain. Fuck. Suguru doesn’t think he can take another minute without being inside you. He needs it, but he needs to make you cum first.

He knows you’re about to, with the way your breathing is stuttering and the way there’s a white cream starting to stain his fingers as he pushes them in and out of you. You’re clenching so hard he’s not sure his dick will fit inside of you. He’ll make it fit, he’ll break your little pussy in if he has to.

Suguru leans against you, his desperate panting revealing his longing for you as he whispers in your ear, “I need you to cum for me, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” He fucks his fingers inside of you harder, rubbing your pretty clit even faster.

You nod eagerly, mind already reeling as you wail, “Y-Yes. I’m gonna cum, Sugu! I- Shitt,” He gently kisses your lips, sliding his tongue into your mouth as if he’s encouraging you to accept it, to just cum all over him. And you do.

Your grip on the bottom of Suguru’s wifebeater hurts your fingers, and you arch your back off the bed while your tight walls clench once more around him. You see white spots in your blacked-out vision, and your squealing is so loud that you worry the neighbors will hear it. He doesn’t stop moving when you cum, wanting to prolong what he knows is the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had.

When you finally stop twitching in aftershock, your breathing begins to slow down, and his movements follow suit. Your panties are long gone. He swiftly pulls out of you while you’re still in a daze, making you unaware that he’s sucking up your essence from his fingers and pulling his jeans down along with his Calvin Klein briefs.

You are, however, aware when he pushes your thick brown thighs flush against your chest. And you’re even more aware when he lines his fat pink tip to your sticky lower lips. Suguru doesn’t let you see just how big he is, he directs your focus to his lips on yours. But Lord, do you fucking feel it. You feel it when he rubs up and down on your wet slit. You feel it when he pushes only his tip inside of you before he pulls back out again.

Suguru doesn’t think he can keep on teasing you like this. He tries to keep it up for your sake, but the way you feel on his tip has his body shaking; it’s almost embarrassing. But he can’t find himself to feel ashamed when you look up at him at him like that, your eyes pleading for him to fuck you into the mattress.

“I’m gonna put it in now, baby. I’m gonna fuck you real good, okay?” You’re learning, you know he wants an answer from you, and you don’t bat an eye when your trembling, honeyed voice whispers, “Whatever y-you want, Sugu.”

Whatever he wants? You probably should’ve never said that, and he’ll show you why. He pushes inside of your cunt slowly, hissing at the same time you shriek when your walls try to push him out. “Breathe,” He rasps out. And you’re trying, you’re really trying to. But he’s just so fucking big, it’s like he’s breaking your pussy in half.

“Y-You’re too big! I can’t-” He doesn’t let you finish, he proves that you can when he pushes in halfway through your slobbering pussy.

“Of course you can, Y/n. You’re almost there, sweetheart. One more breath for me, yeah?”

You listen wordlessly, sucking in another deep breath. It’s inevitable to cry when he plunges the rest of his 8 and a half inches in one go. Suguru lets out a groan in your ear, and the sound makes your insides churn. How is it that he immediately finds your spongy spot? You’re so used to being briefly grazed in that spot that this feeling is foreign to you.

Suguru gives you a few seconds before your pussy starts suffocating him, and he’s forced to start feeding you with slow, deep strokes. “Jesus, fuck!” You keen, mewling, and pressing on his firm abs; the pressure was just too much for you. Are you crazy?

“None of that Y/n.” He uses his left hand to hold both of your hands and place them above your head, gently grasping your throat with his right. All the while, his eyes never leave yours, and his big cock never stops stirring up your guts at that slow pace. He gets impatient.

“You feel so good, so fucking tight. Pretty pussy is mine now, yeah? Tell me it is,” Gradual snapping of his hips against yours in a feverous tempo causes you to scramble under him, with your mind getting lost since you can’t find anything to keep you grounded. He has you altogether under his control, and you can’t find it in yourself to be upset.

You don’t respond, your brain too gone to form any thought that’s not Sugu. You’ve forgotten your manners, he’ll make sure to remind you. He snaps his hips harder, he swears the cries you make almost make him cum on the spot.

“Words, Y/n. Tell me this perfect pussy is mine,” The sound of your soaked pussy filling the air as he whispers against your lips, which are permanently shaped in a perfect O.

You weep out, “Fuck! Oh, Sugu- it’s yours, all yours! I- Ah!” His face adorns with a sly smile at your confession. His body is on fire, your pussy perfectly snug around the shape of his cock. He knows he’s about to cum, with the way his insides are twisting, and his heavy balls are twitching rapidly as they slap on the fat on your ass. Your pussy is so good that he swears you’re not even from this planet. But he needs to get you there first. That’s all he needs to dump his seed inside of you.

He slithers the hand gripping your throat down to your drooling clit, rubbing so fast you think you’re having whiplash. Your cries become louder, and before you even know what’s happening, you’re covering Suguru’s entire stomach and his soft sheets with your squirt.

Suguru follows swiftly after you, letting out a sinful moan, his body trembling as he fills your pussy with his cum. It’s so much, so fucking much, that you can feel it overflowing past your stretched-out pussy. The sluggishness of his thrusts inside you causes him to let out loud breaths and drop his face in the crook of your neck.

Your eyes are still stuck on the ceiling above you, shallow breaths emerging from your sore throat. Woah.

The long-haired man above you is still panting and giving you another command, making it difficult for you to process what just happened to you.

“On your stomach, sweetheart.”

This time, you remember your manners.

3K notes · View notes

ikeuverse · 5 months ago

Text

safety point | pjs

pairing: jay x fem!reader genres: angst, fluff, smut wc: 18.6k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : some swearing, several mentions of cancer and chemotherapy. some mentions of food. kissing, dry humping, jongseong being extremely chivalrous and cliché. lmk if i missed anything.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : you stopped your whole life to live for your mother and her cancer treatment. you wanted to do everything alone, without burdening anyone, of course… you could do it! but the unexpected happens when jongseong enters your life, sharing this task with you effortlessly and without asking for anything in return.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : it's my birthday, but i want to give a gift to those of you who always read my work. initially this idea was much bigger than what i wrote now, it would probably have to become a fic of almost 3 parts… however i tried to reduce it as much as possible because i really wanted to post it. it's an old plot that i thought about with affection and that i took inspiration from a book i read. hope you like it!

꒰ 𝅄 masterlist ꒱

“Don't you think you need to go out for a while?” your mother's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making your eyes disconnect from the book you were reading and look at her slowly.

“But I've been out this week, mom” you mumbled, a small smile adorning your lips before returning to your reading.

Both you and your mother knew that a trip to the supermarket wasn't such a big outing, but she also knew that your concern and instinct wouldn't make you do more than that.

It was a forbidden conversation after your mother's diagnosis. You quit your job to live with her in the childhood home you lived in with your family since your younger sister had her own family now. Nothing would be lost for you without teaching the classes you loved so much. Just that.

It would bring you closer to your mother, to palliative care and everything she needed. But there would also be a hobby for you to read more books while she slept, knit some scarves that your grandmother had taught you, then passed on to your mother, and now she had taught you. And your great passion for painting.

Your mother had been against the idea from the start, with you dropping everything to move back in with her, always trivializing the state. However, you and your sister had seen the worst of her before the diagnosis was discovered. She was sure she'd raised two strong, independent women, and you, with your strong, rigid personality, wouldn't give a toss when you turned up with all your suitcases on her doorstep.

You had no reason to think otherwise; after all, she was your mother. You'd do anything for her, and you knew your sister would, too, if she hadn't just given birth to a beautiful baby boy.

That delicate moment had upset your family a little, especially since you all lived together and your mother decided to return to the old house where you and your sister grew up. Everything was so old, vintage, and nostalgic. There were still marks on the hallway doorpost where you and she marked the heights over time. Or the big stain on the carpet where you and she had spilled grape juice and ended up staining it a bit.

There, nothing had been changed to maintain the essence of when you two were little, even more so with the arrival of your nephew. You and your sister wanted to show him where you both grew up, how the tree house your grandfather made was still spotless, the wood looking like new. A good clean inside and you knew it might be habitable to take the little one there when he came to visit you.

“I mean really leave, Y/n” your mother sighed, bringing you out of your thoughts again. You closed the book this time, looking at her intently. Her hair was starting to thin, not completely falling out, but there were signs of it. You tried to smile, although the image always cut you to the heart “When was the last time you accepted a friend's request to go for a walk?”

“We've been over this, miss Dorothy” you tried to play it cool, knowing that the subject would always come up. Your ways of deflecting it always worked, but on that particular afternoon, your head was so immersed in the book you were reading that you didn't see it coming, you were just hit with countless questions.

“I'm going to die one day or another, and you won't have enjoyed anything” she seemed to be starting to get angry, you knew she was.

In those moments, your mother would say things that would cut your heart out, like a little – and unwanted – goodbye, ragging on you for not wanting to go out and stay at home with someone like her. That's what she used to say and you hated it. You hated the way she tried to trivialize it.

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the slight stinging in your eyes and the lump forming in your throat. This was a losing argument because you could never finish talking, leaving the place crying or hugging your mother and agreeing to leave next time.

“I—” you opened your mouth to say something, but your cell phone rang halfway through.

Your blurred vision gradually dispersed as you blinked hard to keep the tears at bay, lifting your body to the other side of the table to pick up the phone and answer it in a few rings.

“Hi, sis” your gaze was on your mother, who was analyzing the whole situation in a brief silence “We're fine. And the rest of you, how are things?”

As your sister told you about your nephew and her husband, and how things were going in the house, your mother got out of the chair in front of you on the balcony and entered the house. At that moment you let out a heavy breath.

“What's wrong? Tell me” she asked on the other end of the line. That simple question made you collapse in seconds. Although she was the youngest, your sister seemed to have the instincts of an older sister in every respect.

She was stronger in situations like this, more resilient, and much more rigid. Your sister could get around her mother when the heavy stuff started and she always helped you when you got into trouble at school. It couldn't be any different now. If she had been in your place, she would surely have made your mother stop talking about how she was going to die or that you were wasting your time with someone who was sick. Your sister would never allow that kind of thing.

“I have some good news to share” she was so excited and, at the same time, you could sense a hint of wavering in her voice. Your thoughts had already run wild about your nephew or something else that might have happened, but if that was the case, your sister wouldn't have spoken so excitedly like that. So you just sighed.

“Tell me they're not pregnant again” you joked, the first relaxed thing to come to mind after venting your frustrations for minutes on that phone call. Knowing that she would listen to you even if she didn't have time. Your sister was your haven after your mother and you felt grateful for that.

She laughed, making you laugh too as you frantically denied it.

“Not really, although Jake has already said he's expecting the second in a few years” you could imagine her rolling her eyes as she snorted. Maybe one hand on her waist while the other held her cell phone nonchalantly. You, on the other hand, were straightening your posture on the sun lounger and, from time to time, looking inside for your mother.

Noticing the comings and goings around the huge counter in the middle of the kitchen, now preparing something to eat. At least that's what she did on her own, since you didn't dare to cook, because you were so bad in front of the stove.

“But what I wanted to tell you is—” she paused for a few seconds, a mumble on the other end of the line and you knew that your nephew was waking up or awakening your sister's attention. She said a few words of comfort to him before returning to the subject: “Mackenzie and I are going to spend some time with you and mom.”

What? If you weren't sitting down, your legs would surely give way, because that wasn't supposed to happen. Your sister had only given birth to your nephew a few months before, so there was no way she could go there.

“Hazel, that's—”

“It's not crazy and I've already decided” she interrupted you, saving her little speech, “We'll talk about it later.”

“Hazel!” you called out again, wanting to understand the reason for the sudden idea.

You wanted your sister and nephew there, of course you did. Although they didn't live that far away, the commute took time and with a small child and a woman in palliative care, it was a bit more complicated.

She said goodbye briefly, knowing that no matter what she did, you would be against any of her arguments. So just letting you know that she was leaving was enough. Hazel still had the room from her childhood and it would be more than perfect to stay there for a while.

When the call ended, you were still trying to absorb it and think about what came next. Of course, you'd lecture your sister for hours, but you'd forget why you were angry soon after, after all, you and she never really got angry with each other. But what worried you was how your mother would react. If with you she was always more restricted, with your sister and nephew coming, she might be even more vulnerable.

But at least you'd have someone else to share the anguish with a little more closely. After, of course, cuddling your nephew and scolding Hazel a bit.

You went into the kitchen to get Jaeyun a glass of cold water, and a small silent thank you for taking your sister's and Mackenzie's bags upstairs.

His footsteps were right behind you, following you into the room.

“You're angry, aren't you?” he asked in a calm tone, entering the kitchen just after you. His eyes didn't look at you, but you knew the boy had those puppy-dog eyes your sister always talked about.

“Angry, me? Why would I be?” you tried to sound indifferent as you opened the fridge to get the jug of water, forgetting for a moment that, as well as your brother-in-law, Jaeyun was your best friend.

It was because of you that he started dating your sister. It was with your help that he asked her to marry him. Jaeyun knew you even before he met Hazel.

“Maybe because I know you as well as you think,” he let slip, humming softly after you turned to get a glass from the drainer. Jaeyun raised one eyebrow when you looked at him, the puppy-dog look having been abandoned for your best friend's shrewd gaze.

Pouring the water, you handed him the glass so he could drink. A moment of silence passed between the two of you as Jaeyun finished the contents, thanked you, and then handed it back to you.

“You know” he began, his hands still resting on the marble of the kitchen counter as he stared at you from across it, “it was my idea for the two of you to come here.”

“Yours? Why?”

He sighed softly, trying to ignore your exasperated tone and looking towards the kitchen door. At that moment, Hazel was talking to your mother in some corner of the house while asking her about her health and even trivial things. She must have been asking the same questions about the family, what it would be like with a baby in the house, and things like that. At least they were both too entertained to even think about going to the kitchen.

“Because I had to go back to helping out in the restaurant a few days ago, it's a mess there without her” Jaeyun began, his eyes now on you as he explained “The boys can manage, but you know, Hazel's the one who puts things in order” he smiled shyly.

You knew this because you had lived with your sister all your life, she was the one who made order happen in every respect. You also knew how organized she was in the workplace, even though you hadn't had a chance to visit the new address yet.

“And she was getting very lonely, so I thought I'd leave her here with you,” he kept looking at you, hoping that some glimmer of a smile or some praise for a good idea would come out of your mouth “Not to mention that the restaurant is a ten-minute drive away, so any of the guys and I can get here if you need anything.”

It was a good plan if you thought about it that way and wanted to give it a go. Jaeyun was right and you knew it, Hazel wouldn't be going back to work and what she liked to do any time soon, at least not until Mackenzie could go to nursery, and you knew that was a few months away. She must have felt lonely since Jaeyun, her only adult companion, had to go back to work.

From the glare on your best friend and brother-in-law's face, you knew he didn't want that. Not when his dream was to build a life alongside Hazel and now that his family was formed, being inside the restaurant was all he wanted at the moment. Not that he hated his job, on the contrary, Jaeyun loved what he did, but he loved his family even more.

“So you forgive me for going against your wishes and bringing the two of them here?” he asked after a while of rambling, knowing that his mind was running wild as countless assumptions ran through his head. How you would take care of Hazel and Mackenzie, how you would make Jaeyun less worried about his wife and son, and even about you and your mother. Because you knew that he worried as if he were her son. He called every night by video call to talk for hours with the two of you since you moved back in with your mother to take care of her.

“I swear to God, I hope Mackenzie doesn't bring out that puppy dog side of you, otherwise Hazel and I are going to be screwed” you muttered, looking away from him as you heard him laugh.

As with Hazel, getting angry with Jaeyun didn't last long. You and he had never had a serious fight since you met and became best friends. So it wouldn't be now, as an adult, that you and he would do that.

He knew how focused and determined you were to take care of your mother alone so as not to burden anyone, but you also knew how tiring it was and how much Jaeyun and your sister knew that. Little by little, they wanted to sneak in to help you and make you give in at least a little. Getting everyone to the house had been the first step that was working.

“There's just one condition, then” you muttered as you watched him cross the kitchen, stop beside you, and stretch out his arms towards you. You rolled your eyes at the small act of affection that was about to take place, but you still didn't deny it, moving closer to Jaeyun to hug him.

“You can ask me and I'll do anything, I hope I can” he said, hugging you as tightly as you hugged him, resting his chin on the top of your head as he slowly cradled your body.

“You can bring me a tasty meal from the restaurant at least once a week, can't you?”

Jaeyun laughed a little loudly, echoing throughout the kitchen as he felt you squeeze him even tighter, laughing along with him.

“I'll do that” he whispered.

“Look, did you two make up after all?” Hazel walked into the kitchen with her mother by her side, both of them smiling while the eldest held the baby in her arms, a little sleepy and grumpy. You and Jaeyun stepped aside and he smiled at his mother-in-law lovingly.

“Of course, Jake promised me meals from your restaurant” you hummed.

“I'm sure you'd ask for that” Hazel laughed, walking past Jaeyun and kissing him quickly on the lips. Then she walked past you, messing up your hair and going to the fridge.

This time with a full house, apart from you and your mother, could be good after all.

Having your sister and nephew at home wasn't so bad, not even Jaeyun's regular visits after work. Your best friend making a point of having dinner with everyone and still keeping his promise to bring some of the restaurant's meals for you and your mother to try.

“They're not the ones I make, but they're still wonderful” you knew Hazel would boast, and rightly so. She was an incredible cook and you were immensely proud of her.

Even more so in her strength and determination to balance Mackenzie's growth and development with hospital visits and appointments with her mother. Of course, she wanted to intersperse, so that she could also drive once in a while to a routine check-up or to pick up some medication for her mother. All of this was part of the companionship between you as a family, which you were learning to deal with.

Because before it was just you for your mother. Your car leaves the garage at least four times a day to chase things. Now you could rest and take a nap while your sister did it. Even if guilt consumed you, but… Guilt about what? Her helping you? Because that's what was happening.

A whole month passed with these thoughts hammering away in your head, Hazel and Mackenzie becoming more and more embedded in the routine of looking after their mother and now Jaeyun was sleeping there some nights too. A full house was always a good sign, but the extra help made you a little uncomfortable. You didn't want to burden their small family, especially with a small baby. That was absurd.

“In a few weeks I can put Mackie in nursery, so we'll have more time to do things for mom” Hazel said after leaning over the coffee table, picking up some sour treats you'd bought earlier in the week.

Just to settle your stomach before Jaeyun called to let you know he was coming. Your mother was upstairs fixing some hair scarves. She'd gotten way ahead of herself by buying a few pieces when the hair hadn't even fallen out yet, but you knew how anxious she was – and afraid of what lay ahead – so letting her focus on that was the best choice to make.

“But you're going back to the restaurant and your house is twenty minutes away, don't make it up” you tried your best big sister tone, staring at the side profile of your sister who was eating yet another acidic treat without trying to grimace.

She opened her mouth to say something, to try to protest and say that that house could house all of you with peace of mind. Jaeyun wouldn't mind spending some time living there other than in the apartment they had planned when they got married. Everyone knew that your mother's treatment would take a while, but your sister was worried too.

Not just about your mother – that was the main thing – but about you too. About the fact that you had quit your job with no foreseeable return date, abandoning your hobbies while creating new ones. Or at least some of which you could do at home with your mother, keeping her in your field of vision at all times.

“I think we can handle this very well as a big family, Y/n” Hazel turned, finally facing you. She ran the tip of her tongue over the corner of her lips to wipe away the remnants of jam that had remained there “You've done a lot on your own and—”

Suddenly your sister's speech was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone reverberating through the room. She straightened up on the sofa, picking up the device without even looking at the caller ID.

“Hi” from her smile, it was Jaeyun. You'd recognize it anywhere, because it was the same way, in this very house, that she used to answer his calls when she was in college.

You decided to leave the two of them a little more privacy and got up to go to the kitchen, eating those candies had left your throat a little dry, maybe sparkling water would help. Grabbing the bottle from the fridge, you let the fizzy noise invade the room with such pleasure as you turned the cap on the bottle before taking a long sip.

“Hey, sis” Hazel came into the kitchen a little while later. The phone was still in hand, but the screen was off and she looked at you expectantly.

“What?” you asked, taking another sip and feeling your eyes sting from the fizzy water going down your throat. It was a wonderful sensation that calmed all your previous thirst caused by the candy.

“You know…” Hazel placed her cell phone on the counter, glancing at you quickly “Jake said he was going to have a small meeting of the boys, a dinner between them, and he asked us to come.”

You were ready to protest, your mouth open to deny the invitation and repeat the same words you'd say to anyone who tried to get you out of the house, but your mother appeared in the kitchen long before you could even think.

“Of course she's going” she smiled slowly.

“Mom” you began, but she interrupted you again.

“I'm a bit tired from fussing with those scarves” she said, standing between you and your sister, alternating her gaze between the two of you “I probably won't be having dinner tonight if Jake brought something, so you'd better go.”

The protest was already on the tip of your tongue, a strange feeling of not having anything to say while two people, en masse and in force, were trying to get you out of the house.

“Besides, you need to go out with your sister and your nephew too, just staying in here will make you sick along with me.”

You wanted to be able to predict every time your mother made a comment that made the atmosphere heavy or made you ill, reminding her how sick she was. Making her sink further into ruin along with that damned disease.

She knew that you would say something, that you could scold her as you always have since she began to face a reality – a rather harsh one – in the face of that situation. Your mother approached you, kissed your cheek, and wished you goodnight. She passed your sister and did the same, leaving the kitchen and leaving the two of you there.

A moment of silence between you and her was enough to make your eyes sting, remembering the words that came out of the mouth of the person you love most in the world.

“I hate it when she does that” your laugh came out without humor, and you sniffled softly to try to keep away the tears that threatened to fall. It was your sister's turn to approach you in slow steps, testing the waters until she was finally standing in front of you.

“You know she's going to say that kind of thing because look at everything Mom's going through” Hazel held you by the shoulders, staring into your eyes with tense emotion. She took a deep breath at the same moment as you, feeling her eyes sting in the same way. “But we know that nothing bad will happen because we found out at the beginning, that this phase of degradation always happens to those who go through it.”

“It's just that— Shit” you cursed softly, feeling Hazel pull you into a hug.

“How about we go out for a while tonight, have dinner at the restaurant?” she proposed while still hugging you tightly “You can meet the staff, have a real chat, and try some more good food.”

Pondering for a while, you wanted to say no again. Even if the idea was too tempting and your stomach was rumbling, you'd never gone out like this before. Ever since your mother discovered cancer, everything around you stopped to focus on the woman who gave you life, and that was what had to happen. But not all the time.

You could also go out for a while and still send a message or wait for a call since your contact was your mother's emergency contact. You had all sorts of means of communication, so there was little way of depriving yourself of going out this time, and from the pleading look on your sister's face, after she pulled away from the hug, you knew there was no denying it.

“I'm just going to take a shower” you finished. She squealed with excitement, running into the kitchen as you walked slowly out of the room.

“I'm going to shower Mackie and get ready too, we'll be leaving soon. I'll let Jake know!”

It seemed that Hazel had won a huge prize just by agreeing to leave. You laughed at her excitement, realizing how important it was for her, even for your mother and Jaeyun, that you also took care of yourself. Because you needed to be strong and healthy to deal with the whole process together with everyone else.

You allowed yourself to take a little longer in the shower this time, taking a deep breath each time you scrubbed your body, thinking about how strange the feeling in your chest was that night. It could have been a bit of relief at finally getting out, or just a feeling of gratitude at having such loving and caring people around you.

Both answers could be correct, and that's what motivated you to get out from under the shower and look for a nice outfit to go out in.

The drive to the restaurant was filled with nostalgic conversations and a few mumbles from Mackenzie. The atmosphere in the car was light and you found yourself smiling a little more than usual as your sister talked as much as you did. About everything and anything.

The two of you were trying to make up for the time when you were too far away from each other while, in the time since Hazel's return, you and she have been closer than ever.

She announced quietly when she arrived at the restaurant, maneuvering into the parking lot while you got ready to leave. Grabbing your bag, hers and your nephew's while your sister parked to pick up the baby. A perfect team effort that you and she developed without even agreeing.

“We went through a renovation before Mackenzie was born, so I'm entering this new place together with you for the first time” her smile was so infectious that you couldn't help but smile back. Her excitement, her enthusiasm.

This place meant everything to your sister. You remember when she went to gastronomy school, something completely out of the ordinary that your family thought the youngest would follow. You had already been a total buzz studying to be a kindergarten teacher and majoring in fine arts as a second degree. Your sister doing something that wasn't geared towards medicine, law, or whatever your family thought, made you very happy. Hazel never followed any kind of pattern and that's what made her unique and a role model for you, even though she was the youngest.

After she graduated, she thought about opening a restaurant, but her savings were low and she had just been proposed to. Everything was being saved for the big day, even with the help of her family and Jaeyun's, Hazel wanted to have an important role in this as well, besides saying yes in front of many guests.

She was lucky to have friends in college, one of them in particular encouraged her to open a restaurant, even becoming her partner, where you heard very good things about it. All the people who did good to your sister were worthy of your respect and joy, even without knowing them. Until today, in fact.

You let her go in first, opening the huge glass doors while you marveled at the new decor. Since you didn't know what the old one was, you started to appreciate the place as being the way it was from your first impression, every detail being in very good taste while you could feel your sister's opinion of everything. There was a bit of her in everything in that establishment.

“I can’t believe my eyes” a male voice took you out of your thoughts. It wasn’t Jaeyun’s, so you didn’t know who was speaking “Our greatest love…”

“Mackie!” another voice interrupted the boy, who opened his arms to run to Hazel and pretend to ignore her while taking the little one from the girl’s arms.

“And I’m invisible in this place?” Hazel protested, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched the two drooling men playing with the little newcomer. He watched with curious and wide eyes, paying attention to the little noises they made to try to get attention.

“We’ve worked hard with you, we want to see our new mini-boss.”

“I think I’ll talk to Jay about layoffs when I get back” she hummed.

“Don’t scare them, love. We’ve had a busy day today, they deserve a distraction” Jaeyun finally appeared, the only one you knew so far.

The game with your little nephew lasted only a few seconds, as soon as they looked up to look at Hazel, they saw you behind her too.

“Oh, we have a visitor” one of them said, moving away from the one holding Mackenzie and walking towards where you and Hazel were. He smiled, greeting your sister first and then looking at you with a small smile “I’m Sunghoon, nice to meet you.”

“Hi, I’m Y/n” you lightly shook his hand that he extended after saying the name.

“Hazel’s sister? Poor thing, having to put up with her at home” the other joked “I’m Heeseung” he rocked Mackenzie lightly, giving small sniffs on the top of your nephew’s head. You couldn’t blame him, the baby smell was addictive.

“She’s more demanding than here, I bet” you joined in the joke, getting the first laugh from your sister’s friends and employees.

Hazel would even protest if it were at another time, maybe saying it wasn't like that or pretending to be angry. But seeing that you were comfortable in the first few minutes you were there made her heart swell with joy. That was what she wanted. That was what Jaeyun also wanted from his best friend.

“It's working out” he whispered to his wife, kissing the top of her head as he approached, pulling out a chair for Hazel to sit down.

“I hope you're all willing to help me bring the food to the dining room” the voice was loud enough to come from the kitchen and reverberate where you all were, but in a playful way. You could hear the effort the owner of the voice had to make to speak loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I'm busy” Heeseung shouted back, not wanting to let go of Mackenzie for even a second, but that didn't last long since Sunghoon also wanted to hold him. And that's what he did.

“Now he can, my turn to be busy,” he joked for a moment before the huge wooden door opened.

The steps that followed made everyone stare at the man who was approaching. He walked gracefully, carefree as he untied his kitchen apron and placed it on the table where you decided to sit. It had an identification plate, probably the number that was used during the time the restaurant was open, but that was no longer so important.

For a moment, all the conversation around seemed to go silent when your eyes met his. The expression of the man in front of you was of slight surprise, but he kept a small smile on his chapped and reddened lips as he maintained eye contact with you.

Your sister, your brother-in-law, and the other boys were still talking about something, but you and that man seemed not to want to break your gaze from each other. And you wanted to understand why.

Maybe it was his well-defined jawline, or his tanned skin and the way his neck was adorned with a silver chain. The top two buttons of his white shirt were open and his black hair almost got in the way of your vision, if it weren't for the hands insisting on moving them out of the way.

“Jay” Jaeyun's voice finally brought both you and him back to reality. “This is Y/n, my sister-in-law and best friend.”

He blinked a few times in understanding, a noticeable “oh” leaving his lips without much sound. He had certainly heard about you, as well as the other two you had met a few minutes ago.

You looked around to notice that your sister was now holding Mackenzie in her arms, he was whining – probably hungry – so that was the reason why she hadn't introduced you, but Jaeyun instead.

The boy with the perfect jaw took a few steps, looking a little less confident now. If you were a good body reader, you would say he was nervous as he got closer. But as soon as he stopped in front of you, he extended his hand towards you.

It was your turn to blink slowly, finding the greeting a little more formal than usual, but even so, it didn't stop you from reaching out and holding his hand too. You just didn't expect that, when you touched his hand, the boy would lean in and press his lips to your skin. Even though it was chapped, it felt strangely soft and warm against your back.

“I'm Jongseong” he said softly, his lips still close to your skin and his warm breath hitting it. This made a shiver run through your body and made your heartbeat accelerate in a ridiculously instant way. “But you can call me Jay.”

The words wouldn't come out of your mouth, you wanted to say something. Anything to not look like an idiot in front of him, but Jongseong seemed to notice your shyness and his act that had – probably – taken you by surprise. Even him, after all, why had he greeted you so intimately like that?

He wouldn't say it was because he was mesmerized by your beauty, or even that his heartbeat was almost in his ears because of you. Jongseong had never been nervous like that.

“Do you want help in the kitchen, man?” Jaeyun bit his tongue to keep from making any kind of joke, much less making a fuss about the situation since only he had seen everything. The others were busy talking while Hazel got ready to feed the baby.

“Please” Jongseong turned to him, thanking him with just a look since his friend was the great savior.

“Do you two need help?” your voice finally came out, and Jongseong swore he felt his knees weaken a little. Your voice was beautiful, just like you.

“Actually—”

“Don’t even think about it, miss Y/n” Heeseung appeared, placing himself between you and the other two who were gathering to go to the kitchen “Leave it to us, you stay with Hazel and hope for the best in this restaurant.”

“It’s only not better because I didn’t prepare anything,” Hazel said a little louder.

“How conceited” Jongseong joked.

“Tell me the truth, you miss our competitions” she said.

This man had all sides equally attractive. Whether it was the flirtatious side – unintentionally – that he showed you a few minutes ago, the relaxed side he was showing with his friends. You feared that he would be like that in every way, how could you stand it, after all?

When the three disappeared into the kitchen, you finally sat next to your sister and faced Sunghoon. The two quickly looked at you, a small smile on the lips of the only boy present there.

“Sunghoon, no…” Hazel started saying, leaving you completely confused.

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything” he tried to defend himself, but she interrupted him.

“I’ve known you long enough to know what you were going to say.”

“And what was he going to say?” you asked, almost regretting it the moment your sister closed her eyes and Sunghoon’s smile widened even more. Working with people for so long could sharpen a sixth sense of what they were thinking or what they were going to say next. Knowing someone so well that you could know what the other was capable of.

And that was how it was with your sister and Sunghoon. The two seemed to understand each other while she tried to tell him to be quiet with just scolding looks, but he didn’t seem to care. Shrugging almost every time before turning to you and smiling even wider.

“That someone finally brought our cliché Jongseong back” Sunghoon leaned over the table to say those words as if he wanted to tell you a secret. Hazel mumbled something, throwing her head back as she listened to him continue, “You two really fit together.”

“Sunghoon!” you protested, your cheeks turning red and hot, your face on fire. Your throat was dry and you almost ran away from there if it weren’t for the lack of a ride since you had gone with your sister to the restaurant.

“Tell me I’m lying” he turned around, speaking directly to your sister. She was focused on making Mackenzie burp, your nephew’s head resting on her shoulder as she patted his back lightly.

You thought your sister would deny it, say it wasn’t like that, and that Sunghoon was crazy. Everyone there seemed a little crazy, you could tell by your brother-in-law and your sister, that they weren’t normal. But what followed was a knowing smile and a slight nod.

“I knew this would happen” Hazel finally said, leaving Sunghoon to celebrate with fist pumps in the air.

“So… Did you guys plan it…?”

“Not at all” they both said at the same time.

The question hung in the air, if that had been something everyone had done for you to get to know him or if it had happened that way. That it was supposed to be that way. From their surprise, you knew that nothing had been planned, but at least the doubts were hammering in your head.

What did it mean to bring the cliché Jongseong back? Wasn't he the way he was showing? You looked at Hazel and then at Sunghoon, your mouth opening and closing a few times before being interrupted by the kitchen door opening again.

Your heart almost jumped out of your mouth when Jongseong appeared, a small smile on the corner of his lips and his gaze directly at Sunghoon.

“Hey man, enough talking, we need another hand here” he nodded into the kitchen, before closing the door and disappearing from view.

“Duty calls me” he stood up, waving to you and your sister before running the few steps until he opened the doors with less delicacy than before and went into the kitchen.

Hazel bit her lower lip to keep her smile from widening even more, while her eyebrows were still furrowed and her expression was one of complete confusion. But she knew you well enough to know what was going on in your head, so slowly her sister began to speak.

“Maybe in time, you’ll know what Hoonie meant” Hazel settled your nephew on her lap, now he was a little sleepy and mumbling. She gave him a little kiss on the forehead before looking back in his direction “It just depends on you getting out a little more.”

Part of you didn’t want to find out, simply letting it go and ignoring everything that had happened. Focusing only on dinner and the conversation that would come from there until you left. But another part of you was looking forward to it, maybe a very small one, because it meant you would see Jongseong again until you found out what Sunghoon meant.

The mental conflict made you even more confused, you just wanted to understand what had happened for a guy to mess with you so much in such a short time.

After that night at the restaurant, you tried to get back to your normal routine. Continue to focus entirely on your mother, taking advantage of the fact that your sister would be back home soon, but almost everything slipped through your fingers.

One night you were sitting on the porch of your childhood home, refusing to go out for anything other than your mother's appointments and the tests she needed to do. Another time you were sitting at the table in your sister's restaurant, having dinner and chatting animatedly with her friends and changing the course of your entire life.

You didn't imagine that that night Jongseong would sit next to you, start a conversation with you, and not mind joining in on the conversation his friends were having. He was just trying to fill Hazel in on what had happened while she was away, so it was much more interesting for him to talk to you and hear your stories.

This led to a long night in which you got to know a little more about him, and how charismatic and truly charming Jongseong was in every way. All the topics with him flowed naturally, engaging in one conversation after another without stopping and without the two of you having a single moment of silence. Save for the few seconds in which he listened to you talk, sipping some of the wine that Jaeyun had chosen or answering a question from the other group when directed to him.

You also didn't mind having only his attention, even with the provocative looks from Hazel and Sunghoon, and a giggle here and there from Heeseung and Jaeyun. That wouldn't make you so shy. And the redness on your cheeks you could blame solely on the wine you were drinking, so everything was under control. Until you started to feel strange.

A part of you ran from one side to the other as your mother's exams became more frequent, the discouragement she felt with each chemotherapy showing in the thinning of her hair and the thinness on her face. It was affecting her little by little. Another side of you, the small side that had little life outside of hospitals, longed to see Jongseong again. But you couldn't afford to leave your mother at home and go on a date with him, no way would happen. Not even the few hours you spent at the restaurant that day would be enough to repeat.

You brought the cliché Jongseong back, that only made sense when you realized that man was in your kitchen making dinner.

He asked your sister for your number, and Hazel certainly wouldn't object to that. If she did, Jaeyun wouldn't do it, so there was no way out but for him to send you a message. He knew what he was getting into, he knew what you were like from the countless conversations he had with your sister, who was his business partner and best friend. Family problems were shared between the two of you, and when Hazel told him that you at least did something for yourself, Jongseong didn't think twice.

If inviting someone to your house wasn't something he wanted to do, then he decided to talk to Jaeyun and propose a dinner for all of you. Maybe if your mother attended, if it was under your roof, you would at least be there. He could see you again.

And that's what he did.

Cutting the umpteenth asparagus and looking away at you, Jongseong gave a small smile when he realized your eyes were still on him. Arms crossed as he watched you prepare the ingredients before Hazel came back to help.

“Do you cook too?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled for a short minute. Jaeyun had just left to put Mackenzie in the stroller when he fell asleep. Your mother was upstairs choosing an outfit a little better than the pajamas she wore, after all, it wasn’t every day that she had guests.

“Only my sister inherited this talent” you commented with a small smile, looking at Jongseong’s fingers that cut masterfully. He seemed to have a unique precision in each cut. If it were you, nothing would be asymmetrical and you would have hurt yourself by now.

“Come on, you have a talent for artistic things, or do you think I forgot?” he joked.

Your heart skipped a beat when he said that, and then Jongseong remembered the conversation you had at the restaurant a while ago. You two had talked about so many things, you just didn't know he would remember your speeches about college and graduation. Maybe it was irrelevant.

But for him, it wasn't. Jongseong remembered every detail and every word you had said to him that night, he could recite the most diverse subjects you and he talked about if it was to keep things lighter again.

“Y/n” he called you next, your eyes leaving his hands to go to the boy's face “Do you mind trying it and see if I put too much salt in the sauce?” he removed the dish towel from his shoulders and looked for the largest spoon he had on the sink next to the stove. Your throat dried, and you became slightly nervous.

“Me? Really?” your tone of voice almost betrayed you, if it weren't for the secondary noises of cutlery that Jongseong was spreading until he found what he needed.

“Hazel usually does this, but I think she and Jake are checking out the mini chef,” he said, making you laugh.

It wouldn’t be a big deal to try a seasoning on something you were going to eat sooner or later, and it was certainly just to put Jongseong’s insecurity aside. After all, he was a great chef. Getting the salt right was the least of his worries. Even so, you approached, still with hesitant steps, and walked around the kitchen counter until you were standing next to him. A few more steps and you were next to the boy.

“You can be honest if I’ve overdone it, okay?” he asked, trying not to waver in his tone of voice to convey confidence, but deep down, Jongseong was a little scared. He wasn’t sure, but he wanted to impress you with a sophisticated dish, he wanted you to admire him cooking in his kitchen. Even though the first time you two met, you ate something he had prepared. But it wouldn't be the same if he hadn't been watching from across the kitchen.

“I bet it’s amazing, I don’t know what you’re so scared of” you joked to lighten the mood, seeing that he was nervous. Wanting to believe your words, Jongseong took the spoon and ran it along the edge of the sauce, collecting some of the bubbling mixture.

You waited patiently as you were mesmerized once again. Jongseong’s lips formed into a pout as he blew out the smoke that formed under the red mixture, some leaves between the sauce and the smell lingered in the air. If your stomach could talk, it would scream to try it right then, but you were also delighted with his care before serving it to you.

It was something simple, your sister had already done it for you, and your mother did it too. Even Jaeyun once blew on a hot mixture before handing it to you to try, but no one had done what came next.

Jongseong brought the spoon to your lips, waiting for you to open it to try it. He didn’t hand you the spoon or let you take it yourself… He did it for you.

Your heartbeat was racing, your face was burning and you could at least say it was because you were so close to hot food. At least that would serve as an excuse. Not the fact that Jongseong had one hand firmly around a spoon in front of your mouth, while the other was against your chin.

“Open” he just whispered, so softly, but in such a seductive way at the same time. His fingers touched your skin like a feather, you saw him look away at your mouth as it opened, wrapping itself around the spoon to eat the sauce.

It tasted great and the salt was perfect, it couldn’t be any other way.

“It’s… It’s great, Jay” you didn’t even care about the stuttering due to nervousness at that moment, you were too focused on Jongseong’s eyes alternating between your eyes and your lips. Your tongue slowly ran over your lower lip to collect the remains of the sauce and at that moment you noticed his lips slowly part, an inaudible sigh leaving the lips of the boy in front of you. This made you nervous and unresponsive because you swear he leaned in a little. You also swear you leaned back, but before anything else, both of you moved away with Jaeyun's thunderous entrance into the kitchen.

“So, everything ready?” he asked nonchalantly, not looking at you and Jongseong much. Thank goodness, you both thought at the same time, without even knowing it.

“A few more minutes and we can have dinner” Jongseong composed himself, waiting for you to do the same before turning his attention back to the sauce.

The rest of the time passed in a blur, you followed the entire dinner talking to everyone who was there, picking up Mackenzie when he woke up to let your sister have dinner with a little more dignity too. Your heart raced when it was Jongseong's turn to hold the baby in his arms. That scene was unusual and so cute. You didn't know why you were like that.

Maybe it was because of the way he always acted, so naturally and so politely. How he talked to your family, or how he always interacted with you. Showing care in his words and showing that he cared about what you were saying, no matter how small.

Jongseong was the first person you let get a little closer after your mother's diagnosis. He was the only one who was able to talk to you for hours without making you mention your mother, or without making you look at your phone to see what time it was time to go home, or making you uncomfortable with something he said. He was always making sure you were okay or asking if you needed anything.

I need you to stop this, it's dangerous, you answered mentally every time. So dangerous that your heart already felt the possible effects that Park Jongseong was having on you.

“The dishes are on me now” your mother smiled after a long time of talking, denying it in every possible way as Jaeyun and Jongseong tried to run ahead to stop her. The two of them were seeing how stubborn she was, and where you and your sister had inherited it from.

“If anything, you can call me, okay, mom?” you asked.

“Sure, my love. Enjoy it” she smiled in your direction before disappearing into the kitchen. Jongseong and Jaeyun took all the dishes to the sink, at least helping with that while you and your sister still sat at the dining table.

“And I'm going to change someone's diaper because I think we have a surprise here” Hazel hummed as she saw the concentrated faces and expressions that Mackenzie was making. You laughed out loud when you saw your nephew's face turn red, then the farting noises he made.

“Good luck” you said before she left with the little one upstairs for a long diaper change.

“Your sister—” Jaeyun soon appeared.

“Upstairs changing the little boss's diaper” you heard his and Jongseong's laughter at using the nickname everyone was giving the little boy. Your brother-in-law and best friend didn't even wait or say anything else, he followed your sister upstairs, leaving you and Jongseong alone again.

“So…” he said, pulling the chair next to you to sit where you were before. You felt your body tingle when his shoulder touched yours, slowly turning towards the boy.

“So…” you repeated his words, biting your lower lip to keep from smiling so much. Or so he wouldn't look at your mouth again, making you nervous. Not that you weren't at that moment, but something in the air seemed a little lighter between you and Jongseong.

“I was thinking” he rested his elbows on the table, stretching his hands in front of his body and staring at his fingers. Anything to get the courage to speak instead of staring at you, because he knew nothing would come out coherently if he was looking into your eyes. “Would you be willing to have coffee with me sometime?”

You turned so abruptly towards him, that the shock in Jongseong's words caused you a certain panic, but as his eyes reached you, noticing a certain curiosity as he waited for your answer, you relaxed. He seemed as shy and vulnerable as you were at that moment.

“Jay…” you started speaking, noticing how attentive he was as he waited for you to speak “My mother… You know…” and then he smiled. A small, simple smile, but it didn't seem sad. You knew your answer, but you were surprised by his reaction.

“Jake told me you would say that, but I decided to try anyway” he laughed at your expression, and you noticed that your eyes were wide and still in shock.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Hey, it’s okay, I rushed” Jongseong interrupted you.

“No, Jay, you didn’t rush” you said too quickly, fumbling with your words and, most importantly, your actions. In a moment of desperation so that he wouldn’t feel upset or rejected – you didn’t want to reject him, nor were you crazy about it – you held his hands. Your fingers slowly slid between his and Jongseong just let it, feeling your soft skin come into contact with his “I’d love to have coffee with you, but it’s just—”

“We’ll find a way, okay?” he asked “I’ll wait, it’s okay.”

Hot, understanding, and patient. Did that man have any flaws?

You couldn't say anything at that moment, lost in your thoughts and in the caress he began to make with his thumb on your torso. Your eyes quickly met his, and then a smile drew your lips that he loved to see so much up close. Jongseong wanted to feel them too, but one step at a time.

And as he said out loud, he would wait. Jongseong, for sure, would wait.

Getting used to a full house would only be bad when your sister returned to her routine, working at the restaurant after she managed to put Mackenzie in daycare. You thought it wouldn't shake you, after all, it was always you and your mother. You were always the one who ran after everything so that your sister could feel calmer and less overwhelmed.

But you also didn't know that you would miss more laughter and voices in that house. That the antics of your brother-in-law and best friend would fill an environment that only had sadness and regrets. You also noticed how pale your mother started to get after the chemotherapy treatments were becoming more and more invasive.

The conversations with the doctors and nurses were more frequent, both because of your mother's complaints and for them to warn the two of you of what was starting to happen. The hair loss came gradually, and you thought you would be strong enough to deal with it alone. Seeing the clumps of hair in the bathroom and the older woman's teary eyes she tried to say that everything was fine.

It wasn't. And you knew this because you lost count of how many times you sat on the bathroom floor, hugging your mother's fragile body while she cried over the loss of more strands of hair. The scarves were now her best friends. At least something she had chosen a long time ago was helping to keep her a little happier.

Not as much as you would have liked, seeing Mrs. Dorothy crying around the house and staying quiet was worse than hearing her say atrocities. At least she talked to you, mumbled something or simply fought with you to leave the house. You just wanted to hear your mother's voice. But the few conversations you had were on the way to chemotherapy or at the dinners she decided to attend, not when she left you alone in the kitchen with the cold plate in front of you waiting for her to come down.

Not hungry. That was what she usually told you the next morning, and you swallowed it because you no longer had the strength to argue. Hazel would come by every day after work to check on you, talk to your mother – or try to – while bringing her a new hair scarf to wear at her next appointment. That made her smile, at least.

You just wanted it all to end, you just wanted to cry in peace and get all that weight off your shoulders while thinking about nothing but yourself. But thinking about yourself was as far away as you wanted, and opening up about it to your sister was a delicate subject. She would make you drop everything to take responsibility, and you wouldn’t forgive yourself for making her become an absent mother to Mackenzie while you went to take care of your mother. There was no escape.

“Are you hungry? I’ll make you something to eat…” you left the bag on the kitchen counter, waiting for your mother to come into the room after another appointment. She smiled at you, in a sad way that broke your heart even more, if that were possible.

“I think I just want to rest now, sunshine” she said quietly, but you heard enough. Her tone was sad, but she tried to encourage you as she looked and smiled in your direction. Your mother leaned down enough to kiss your cheek. “Don’t go without eating, I’m going to go to my room, okay?”

“Mom—”

“My door is open and my phone is fully charged, I’ll call you if I need anything. I promise.”

It was a promise she had never broken, at least. The few times your mother needed you, she called you to run upstairs and help her with trivial things, but she still called. So even though you hated leaving her alone, you decided to trust her and let her rest.

Sometimes it was good for her to be alone for a while to reorganize her thoughts. You were going through this as her daughter, while she was the patient with that damned disease. She was the one who was feeling everything, experiencing it – literally – on her skin and you couldn’t imagine the pain and anguish it was to live with that inside yourself.

Your eyes followed her figure up the stairs and, finally, disappeared from your field of vision through the upper floor of the house.

You let out all the breath you didn’t know you were holding, your eyes starting to burn as you didn’t know what to do. Would you call Hazel now? Would you leave the house to clear your head? You even thought about sending a message to Jongseong, but nothing that was going on in your head was coherent enough to be carried out. So the only lucid thing you could do was to grab a bottle of wine and drink it in no time.

The bitterness of the drink went down your throat for the umpteenth time, your body was curled up in the corner of the couch while your eyes flickered through the silliest channels without really paying attention to what was happening there. You just wanted to get drunk on wine and go up to your room so you could sleep. But the sound of the doorbell wouldn't let you do that.

Maybe it was time for Hazel to arrive and check on you and your mother, this could happen quickly because you started to get dizzy from a bottle of wine and your mother was already on her tenth sleep if she could be counted. So you got up from the couch to drag your feet to the front door. The speech was on the tip of your tongue because your sister would certainly scold you for drinking without eating anything, but what you found there in front of you didn't look anything like Hazel.

Jongseong had nothing to do with your sister. Only his worried expression and his eyebrows together could be said to be an expression you knew well: concern.

“Y/n… Are you okay?” he asked a little euphoric, but trying to relax little by little when you blinked a few times, trying to assimilate.

“Jay…”

“Gosh, I was worried” he moved his hands from side to side as he gestured and spoke, and you heard the sound of bags, but ignored it for a moment “Hazel said she would come here to check on you and I said I could come after work, she called you and you didn't answer so I—” little by little, Jongseong followed your gaze to his hands, where there were bags he was holding “Oh.”

“What is this?” you asked.

“Answer me first” he said back, looking at you this time. You straightened your posture, a narrowed look in his direction before softening and leaning against the door frame.

“I can’t deal with my problems so I drank an entire bottle of wine—”

“Did you eat, at least?” he interrupted you, seeing you shake your head. For the first time, you noticed a serious expression on Jongseong’s face, as if he was angry with you. And something stirred inside your chest when he walked past you without asking permission and entered your house.

Jongseong wasn’t a stranger, but he also didn’t consider himself an acquaintance to the point of doing this. But combining concern with several other feelings made him act on impulse. You closed the door to the house and simply followed him to the kitchen, where he placed the bags on the counter where you had placed yours a few hours before.

“Jay” you finally called out to him, and he looked in your direction. The same serious expression from before was still there, not softening for a single second. “What are you— What is this?”

Stop stuttering, idiot. Your eyes started to burn because he was mad at you, and you were too drunk to deal with that kind of thing.

“You said you’d have coffee with me, didn’t you?” he asked, waiting for your answer. You blinked slowly to keep the tears away and sighed, nodding positively to the question he had asked. “I decided to bring some things to make coffee here, since that way you wouldn’t leave the house and… Well…”

Now he felt shy enough to verbalize all the effort he was making. Of course, Jongseong had contacted your sister and Jaeyun to see if it was a good idea, especially since he was constantly listening to Hazel’s complaints about your mother’s situation. He didn’t want to demand attention from you, much less for you to go out with him. As he had said that day, he would be patient enough and wait. But nothing was stopping him from bringing the coffee to you.

“So you… You wanted to come have coffee with me?” Your voice was shaky, you felt like you could break down at any moment. No one had ever done that for you in your entire life: demonstrated. You had been around people enough to understand that not everything could be reciprocal, not everything people would make an effort, and that was okay. No one had that obligation.

And seeing that Jongseong didn’t treat it as an obligation, but because he wanted to do it, made you even more vulnerable. Sunghoon’s voice always hammered in the back of your head saying that you had brought the cliché Jongseong back, and if that was him, you were happy to rescue him somehow.

“I didn’t… Damn—” you heard a sob erupt from your throat, realizing you were crying the moment you felt the salty tears run down to your lips.

Everything happened so fast and before you knew it, Jongseong's strong arms were around your waist, pulling you close and nuzzling your face against his chest.

You and him could stay like that for hours and you wouldn't complain. The smell of his cologne was calming your nerves as you cried copiously and sobbed against his light shirt – now completely stained with your makeup – while he said nothing. But the caress on your back and the few kisses on the top of your head could say much more than you wanted to hear.

He didn't know when it was the right time to open his mouth or look at your face, so he let you dictate the time you needed until you gradually stopped crying. Slowly, your face lifted from his chest, finding Jongseong's face now a little softer and his bright eyes looking only at you.

“I'm sorry” you whispered. It didn't surprise you when he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours and lightly brushing the tip of his nose against yours. If it had been before, this would have left you completely static and nervous, but at that moment, it was the most calming thing he had done besides still hugging you.

“Don’t be sorry” he whispered back, the air from his lips hitting yours as one of Jongseong’s hands went up to your face, wiping away some tears.

“Could… Could you…” it would be bold of you to try that, but you needed it. Something inside your heart told you to ask, and that was exactly what you were going to do. “Can you stay here today, please?”

Jongseong smiled a little, still caressing your cheek with his fingertips as he moved down to your jaw.

“I’m glad you asked that” he said, his nose still brushing against yours. You could see the internal battle he was fighting between closing the distance and still respecting you and waiting for everything to calm down so he could get even closer. That in itself was making you even more enchanted because he took care of you down to the smallest detail “Because I wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon.”

“Are you the one taking my mother to the doctor today?” Hazel frowned, glancing at Jongseong as she focused on the right amount of green leaves for the dish she was preparing.

He decided to just watch, as the movement was a little slow because it was the beginning of the workday. Resting his hands on the edge of the kitchen counter, he lightly pressed his fingers on the marble to try to contain the emotions that were bubbling inside his chest.

Jongseong thought he was making the same mistake as in his other failed relationships: he was too emotional and had thrown himself into something that hadn’t even come to fruition. He knew you were different from any woman he had ever met in his life, but the slight fear lingered in the back of his mind. What if you spoke like the others, or felt the same way?

You’re such a cliché, Jay. You don’t have to be so emotional.

He always heard that, and after a while, the women would simply leave. Claiming that the problem was the way he showed it. But what could he do if that was the case? That was what Jongseong did when he felt he was worth it.

People who aren’t worthy of you, Hazel would hammer those phrases home whenever he talked about how exhausted he was from people saying he was too emotional.

“My sister is just a little bit cornered because of our mother, but she won’t complain about your cliché” she added one night, one of the many they got together after work to talk about their day and plan their week at the restaurant. Hazel was Jongseong’s biggest supporter of you, and she made sure you two got along.

He was happy about that. Because at least someone, throughout the love life he had faced, wouldn’t think he was crazy for it.

And Jongseong found out that what Hazel – and all the other guys – said and encouraged him when it came to you was true. He was afraid to bring meals to your house and eat in your living room. It was too intimate, but at the same time, it was the only way he had found to be close to you since you never went out. The efforts were worth it with every shy smile you gave when he arrived with the bag of food.

Then, after a lot of talking – and a little arguing on your part – he wanted to take your mother to a doctor's appointment. It wasn't his obligation, of course, but Jongseong felt his heart heavy when he arrived at your house and saw you practically a sleep-deprived zombie. You hadn't slept the day before the exams, getting nervous about how your mother would handle it. So he thought he could take you so you could rest more.

“It's not your obligation and I'm not going to leave my mother alone” he remembers the shine in your eyes, your trembling voice, and the shortness of breath as you tried to hold back your tears. Tiredness, fear, anguish, all together as he stood in front of you, wanting only to do the best.

“I know that.” Jongseong took a few steps toward you, stopping right in front of you. “But nothing I do for you or your mother is out of obligation. I do it because I want to and because I like you both” He didn’t care if that statement – at least on his part – was interpreted romantically. He would make a better announcement, he wanted to say that he liked you more romantically, but for now, that would do. “And your mother will be with me, who said she’ll be alone, Y/n?”

That night he knew he had won the argument and that he had started taking your mother to your appointments so you could sleep a little longer, only on the condition that you both told her every detail when you got home.

Jongseong and Dorothy told you what the doctor had said, of course. But they didn’t tell you that they ate fast food on the way, or that they were late because they were at the mall buying a new scarf for her and a matching shirt for him. Your mother already saw you as a potential son-in-law and Jongseong didn’t deny it when she asked you things about you in the sentimental sense of the word. He wanted to tell you openly about it, and the best way was to start with your mother. Since your sister and brother-in-law were well aware of that.

“I’ll go” he sighed, trying to hide a smile that was forming at the corner of his lips. That didn't go unnoticed by Hazel, who stopped what she was doing to look at her best friend. “It's her last chemotherapy, and we—” he couldn't help himself, his smile widening even more. “We're going in matching clothes.”

“What?” she almost shouted inside the kitchen, surprise taking over and causing Heeseung to enter the place with wide eyes.

“What? Did someone get hurt?”

“Jay and my mother are going to the last chemotherapy in matching clothes,” she practically shouted. “And they didn't tell anyone!”

It was Heeseung's turn to scream, with joy and surprise. He followed Jongseong's advances on you as much as everyone else in the restaurant, being updated by the boy and your sister since you were shy enough to say something when you went to the restaurant to meet them.

“Your mother asked us not to tell, it was supposed to be a surprise” he grumbled, pushing himself away from the counter as soon as Heeseung approached. He knew his friend would mess up his hair or squeeze him, so the further away he was from him at the moment, the better.

“Now you’ve ruined the surprise and we want to see it.”

“Okay, I can bring her after the appointment and you can all see. What do you think?” Jongseong said.

And he kept his promise that day. The short time he stayed at the restaurant was just to get things organized for his friends to drive for the rest of the day, while he ran out to the car and towards his house. His pastel blue shirt was the same color as some details of the scarf your mother was wearing that day.

You didn’t get to see them leave, keeping your promise that you would rest while Jongseong took you safely. He was happy to see that you were trusting him and taking a little more care of yourself, with the fear going away when you saw your mother finally recovered. It was a victory for everyone that she was going to her last chemotherapy.

“Ready, Miss Dorothy?” he asked as he parked, turning off the car and looking at his mother with a charming smile.

“Ready, future son-in-law” she said as excitedly as he was, taking him by surprise even though that had already come out of her mouth a few times. But not calling him directly future son-in-law. Dorothy was just expressing her desire to make Jongseong part of the family. That you would give him a chance and stop being so worried since she was getting better and managing to reach the end of her treatment.

He got out of the car and ran around the vehicle to open the door for your mother, with the way she called him still hammering in the back of his mind.

“Jay” Dorothy called him, intertwining one of her arms with his as they both headed towards the elevator of the hospital building. The path so familiar to both of them is now being taken one last time.

“Yes?” he replied, pressing the floor button while turning his head to her and smiling.

“How about dinner at home tonight? Hazel and Jake are also coming, I wish you were there to celebrate.” She tightened her grip on his arm a little, showing how happy she felt in the boy’s company.

His smile widened, he knew they could celebrate somehow, but being invited by your mother before anyone else seemed a little more special than if he were even invited by you.

“I would love to” Jongseong said finally before the elevator door opened.

Your mother and he left, with confident and determined steps, heading to the oncology desk to finish that cycle.

Life seemed to have taken a huge turn for you in the last few months. Your mother was finally cured of that damned disease. Your routine began to settle down when your sister, along with Jaeyun and Jongseong, managed to call the school where you previously worked. The principal of the place didn't think twice about accepting you back, especially after Hazel told the whole story in a little more detail.

You had omitted a lot of things, saying that your departure had been due to personal problems. It was. But no one needed to know about your mother's diagnosis, much less that you sank into it with no prospect of coming back to the surface.

Now, with the routine of working at school again with your classes, you still lived with your mother until you settled in a new place nearby. A small apartment on the outskirts was all you needed, different from your old place. It was relatively big, you loved it, but after the turmoil in your life… Just a space for you to have your things and sleep now and then was enough.

You let out a small sigh, closing the tab to search for apartments online as you looked around the room. You would have already left school if it weren't for Jongseong's request that he pick you up that day. Something like the two of you having dinner together to unload a tiring Friday was all he needed. And, apparently, so did you.

Because denying him that was out of the question. You remember rarely having denied him anything since the two of you met. Taking into account that he was the only one who managed to make you give in to the tiring routine you had with your mother. It was Jongseong who made you sleep a little longer while he took you to the doctor. You wouldn't even let Hazel drive to the hospital.

Sure, she had a child at home and you were afraid that she would catch something contagious on the way or simply get even more tired. But with him… It was all so much easier.

Jongseong settled into your life effortlessly, with the attitudes you always sought without knowing you needed. He was the one who brought you lunch on the days he was sure you were living on nothing but coffee – he wouldn’t tell you that he had memorized your routine, knowing exactly the days you were most agitated because of your mother’s medication or something she needed to do.

The two of you also started having more nighttime dates, like dinners out with the guarantee that you would take him home early so you wouldn’t be gone for so long. But you bit your tongue about it, because the time with him seemed to fly by and, before you knew it, you had spent the whole night talking to Jongseong and learning a little more about him.

About how he was patient with you all this time, touching you subtly and getting closer little by little, afraid to make a move and invade your personal space or disrespect you. The most you and he shared were kisses on the forehead and hugs that lasted a little longer. A few times you almost made a move, but there were such vulnerable moments when you were crying or exhausted enough to just do something thoughtless.

You also noticed that he would hold back whenever he was close enough, staring at your mouth for a little too long before nibbling on his lower lip, sighing, and looking back into your eyes. It made your heart race, your heartbeat pulsing uncontrollably. Both he and you wanted this, but it seemed like something always happened to make it not right. Yet.

Something inside you was boiling that day. Jongseong asking you to wait at work so he could pick you up was just the icing on the cake of your relationship. You were going to make a move today. There was no way out of it. If he thought it was still too early or that you two didn't need to take that step, that would be fine. You would understand. But you wouldn't stop trying at any cost.

Your cell phone vibrated, still in your hands, and you shivered in the chair with the slight fright you got.

jay: i'm around the corner from the school, can you wait for me in the parking lot?

A simple message, but you smiled at it. There was no need to reply, you just finished organizing your things inside the large bag, going to the bathroom to see your current state.

Shit. You swallowed hard.

Working at a school again made you forget the state you were in when you came home. The denim overalls you were wearing were stained with paint from the straps to the hem around your ankles, much of your arms were also stained with the same colors. Your hair was disheveled in a ponytail and your cheeks were flushed and shiny from the light marathon you ran after some little students during the day.

Well, you could fix that last part by splashing some water on your face. And that's what you did, drying it with a paper towel before leaving the bathroom.

Maybe Jongseong would drop you off at home so you could shower and change, that would take a while since you only needed a few minutes. Get the paint off your skin and the sweat off your body to look a little more presentable.

Picking up your bag again after leaving the bathroom, you walked through the school hallways until you reached the exit, waving to the doorman and some employees who were still there. Arriving at the parking lot, Jongseong was already there. You could feel his smile through the dark mirrors, even though they blocked the view from those outside. You quickly reached the car, opened the passenger door, and slowly got in.

“Hey” he greeted you softly, as he always did.

“Hey,” you said back, closing the door and adjusting your bag in the space between your feet. Turning to him, you smiled at the sight. He had a small, tired smile on his lips, but the sparkle in his eyes was always there when he had you around.

“Long day?” the same question he asked when he came to pick you up, testing the waters to see how you were feeling that day. If he should talk more or let you do the talking. Jongseong loved both.

“Somewhat” you leaned back a little more on the bench, your eyes still on the boy next to you who didn’t look away for a second “I think I prepared an activity that didn’t work out very well in the end” pointing to your clothes, he looked away to notice a little more.

The paints, the variety of colors, and, finally, your face. Your hair looked beautiful to him, even with the strands out of place although you had already tried to fix them with each stroke of your hand. He suppressed a sigh, biting his lower lip.

“You look beautiful like this” he let out, making no mention of any regret as his eyebrows rose.

“Jay, come on” you held back a shy laugh “I’m covered in paint… I was even going to ask you so I could go home and—”

“Actually” he interrupted you, raising one of his hands towards you and taking your hand in his. Jongseong had done this a million times, you had lost count, but it was as if it were the first time with each touch of his against your body. He brought your fingers to his lips, smelling your skin and closing his eyes as if that would calm him down for a moment. “I wanted to ask you if you don’t want to do something simpler today. Maybe different.”

“And what would that be?” you said quietly, afraid that your tone of voice would make him open his eyes. The boy’s breath was beating against your skin, warm and comforting.

“Dinner at my apartment” he squeezed his fingers lightly in your hand, opening his eyes to continue with the sentence “You can take a shower there if you want, I have something that will fit you if you need it.”

Wearing his clothes was quite intimate and different. You had only worn his coats when you went out somewhere and it was cold enough – you always forgot how many clothes you should put on on a cold night – and that was it. Nothing like a sweatshirt or a shirt. Especially taking a shower outside your house. He wasn’t a stranger, anyway.

“You…” your voice faltered a little, he still held your fingers against his lips, occasionally kissing your knuckles when he felt you a little more thoughtful and tense “Are you sure, Jay? We can leave it for another day…”

“I’m sure” he said seriously, but there wasn’t a hint of anger in his voice. He just wanted to steady any uncertainty you might have shown at that moment. He then sat up straight in his seat, still holding your hand lightly enough to intertwine his fingers with yours “My day was full and stressful, but I didn’t want to miss seeing you because…”

For a second he was quiet. One of the rare times Park Jongseong stopped talking mid-sentence without you interrupting him was because he thought he was talking too much.

“Because…?” you encouraged him, squeezing your hand in his for the first time.

With his free hand, Jongseong turned the key in the ignition and let the car slowly start moving. You slid your hand into him, letting him have both hands free so he could drive safely, but your hand still traveled to his shoulder. Soon sliding down to reach the hair on the back of his neck.

A position that screamed couple, but neither you nor him cared about that.

“Because you calm me down in a way” He was looking at the movement on the street now, leaving the parking lot of your work to go towards his apartment “I think it’s better than anything I could try to do in my day to make the stress go away.”

“And is dinner at your apartment a good idea? Don’t you want to rest?” you asked, trying to ignore the agitation of your heart as Jongseong leaned into the small caress you were giving his hair.

“Having dinner with you at my apartment is what I want most right now” he sighed tiredly, looking away for a brief second before returning to the other cars that were in traffic with him. “Taking a shower, talking about anything, and having your company until I fall asleep… I swear, I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

This was even more of a couple than the touch you were doing in his hair, sliding your fingers down his neck to his shoulders, returning to the nape of his neck and tangling his hair again.

Even if he didn’t see it, Jongseong knew you were smiling. Shyly or not, he could feel a slight smile on your lips as you let the naked truth come out of your mouth.

Secretly, he also thought it was time to act, that he should take a step beyond what the two of you were. And it could start with you finally going to his house. Getting to know his space since he’d been to your house so many times.

He was taken by surprise when he stopped at a red light and felt the warmth of your lips against his cheek. He quickly turned towards you before realizing that, yes, you were indeed smiling.

“I think that’s the perfect idea” you said so quietly that he had to hold back as much as he could not to stop at that light, take off his seatbelt, and kiss you right there.

So Jongseong was content to wave, smiling a little more than you before moving forward when the light turned green. He was desperately looking forward to being home soon.

Jongseong had such a cozy apartment that screamed, in every corner, how much of it was him. From the colors to the decoration, you were enchanted by that place more than you thought you would be, forgetting the slight nervousness that settled inside you when you got there.

But little by little, he made you relax effortlessly. He guided you through the corners of the apartment and showed you each part, then he went to his room and separated a change of clothes for you that, according to him, were the ones he wore the least. But even so, those pieces smelled like him. The t-shirt and sweatpants smelled like Jongseong and you were becoming more and more addicted to it. To smelling his scent, to knowing that it was calming you to extreme levels.

After taking a shower, having dinner, and cleaning up all the mess you two made, sitting on the couch and watching something while talking was all that was left to do before going to sleep. Neither you nor he had brought up the subject of where you would sleep. In the bed with him? In the guest room? Would he let you sleep in the room alone and sleep there on the couch? If Jongseong didn't say anything, you wouldn't talk about it.

Especially because the weight of his head on your lap, the silky dark strands between your fingers, and the sound of his laughter after a funny subject were your focus at the moment. You wanted to have maximum attention on what was happening above anything else. Listening to him talk about Jaeyun's antics on a workday made you laugh a lot, it helped you share with him some things your best friend did back in the last year of high school.

“And he won Hazel over like that?” Jongseong turned his head to look up, his attention was now on you and no longer on the TV and the entertainment program that was on. Neither of you were paying much attention to that, anyway.

“You bet” you sighed loudly and dramatically, making Jongseong laugh. “These two have been pestering me for a week so I could play cupid.”

“And it worked” He was still looking at you, his eyes half-closed from the shared laughter while the two of you were still on that subject. But as the silence settled in, he remained looking in your direction, and that made your heart race. Your heartbeats went up to your ears as Jongseong’s gaze didn’t let you. “Now they both wanted to return the favor” He lowered his voice enough for you to hear him closer. It wasn’t quite a whisper, but it was low enough for a normal tone of voice.

Your eyes roamed all over his face, trying not to linger on his lips, freshly moistened by the tip of his tongue, which still contained a small smile.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying not to stutter or let your voice fail, but it was becoming increasingly impossible not to be nervous in front of him. Not when Jongseong lifted his head from your lap, sitting next to you on the couch, but without breaking the distance between the two of you.

He looked away for a few seconds and let out a little laugh, and you wondered if it was because of nervousness, shyness, or if he thought you were a fool for asking that. It was the first two, but you would never know that.

“Introducing you to me, making us both go out together whenever we had the chance” he began listing the little things that Jaeyun and Hazel had done for the two of you over the long months. You knew your sister and your best friend had given you a little push about it, but the biggest effort was Jongseong’s persistence.

You felt his hand find yours, his fingers slowly intertwining against yours. That gesture was starting to become familiar to both you and him.

“I didn’t persist in anything, I just… I let it happen because I wanted to” he whispered this time, and your eyes widened when you realized you had let your thoughts out loud.

“I didn’t— I mean… Damn” your low, displeased mutterings at yourself for being caught only made him laugh a little more, pulling your hand to his lap and bringing the other one to your face.

Moving your damp hair away from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear to get a better look at your face.

“Why do you think that way, Y/n?” he asked.

You thought about it for a bit, not knowing what to answer. Why did you think that way about someone who showed so much care and affection for you and the situation you were in without asking for anything in return? Maybe it was because it was something rare, almost nonexistent. No one you know – except for your family and your best friend – would do something like that. But he did. And he did it long before you knew him.

“I don’t know” was the only thing you could answer after a while because it was true. You weren’t sure what to say, but it seemed like he did.

Leaning towards you again, Jongseong rested his forehead against yours. Like that night in your kitchen, the closest gesture you had with each other. His breathing, unlike yours, was calm. Warm against your skin, almost making you sigh.

With a slow movement, he brought one of his hands to your face. His fingertips made their way from your cheek to your jaw, holding your face with all the gentleness you had known from that man in the last few months.

“I know it’s random to say this, but…” Jongseong began, speaking softly and slowly, giving a small smile when he met your eyes. They seemed bigger and more questioning, curious, and that was enough for him to continue, “I want to tell you because all my friends say you brought back the old, cliché Jongseong.”

A nod was enough for you to agree. First, curiosity had been eating away at you since the day Sunghoon had talked about it at the restaurant, the first night you had met all his friends, and him. Then, more and more, someone would say that phrase, making you even more thoughtful. Wanting to ask why that cliché had been hidden for so long.

Jongseong kept his hand holding your face, rubbing his thumb on your cheek with random drawings against your skin. His other hand looked for yours and, when he found it, he made sure to hold it with the same affection he held your face. You tried to calm all your heartbeats at that moment as you listened to him speak.

“I was raised in a way that we should show care and gratitude in our way, to the people we love and who do us good” He kept his eyes on yours, never letting them fall anywhere else on your face. Jongseong wanted to capture every second of your reaction and attention as he opened up in that conversation “I've always been someone who did everything for the people around me without expecting anything in return.”

He was too kind and you knew it, but hearing that only confirmed your suspicions. Hearing him say with so much affection everything he did for his friends, for his family. You even dared to let out a little laugh when he told you that he left home at two in the morning to hit the road for the first time and meet Heeseung, who was at the beach house alone and feeling sick.

“He wanted to go before us to organize the house, but he got food poisoning and I ran to take him to the hospital” was the simplest, yet cutest explanation you heard.

That was Jongseong through and through, the guy who had done everything for you, your mother, and your sister in the last few months. Every gesture, every moment of company. The weight you felt thinking you were taking advantage of him gradually faded away as he told you everything he did for people. Until he cleared his throat a little.

“Do you want to stop here?” you said for the first time since you started that subject, feeling your voice crack a little due to lack of use.

“No, it’s okay” you felt him squeeze your hand lightly, a small smile forming on his lips. Resentment? Sadness? You didn't know, but you wanted to hear it anyway “I want you to know.”

You nodded once more and listened to every word with the same attention. You knew that Jongseong would have other relationships. After all, a man like that couldn't have gotten this far without trying anything in life. It was a sin to think that he would be immaculate. But a wave of sadness washed over you, not because of that, but because of the way he started telling the story.

He only had two girlfriends. But they were enough to traumatize him. Jongseong did everything for them, as he did for anyone in his life, but they both ended up the same way: calling him an idiot for doing everything, saying that he was too passive and that the relationship was monotonous. Without adventure and boring. The first one left him less than two weeks after the breakup, going to live abroad. The second one took a while, but she came back to torment him when he opened the restaurant.

“She went there today” he said, almost in a whisper. “After I started making money, it seems like I became even more of an idiot because she tried to get closer out of interest. And that drives me crazy.”

It would drive anyone crazy, of course. You wanted to feel uncomfortable and jealous that someone who had done him so much harm was around on the same day you were with him. But all you could think about was the sadness Jongseong must have felt. Seeing someone he had tried everything for show up just to want something in return.

After all the trauma that followed, he had closed himself off to clichés and managed to do this only to his friends. No one had ever accessed the old, old Jongseong again. Until you arrive.

“That’s why I say that everything I did was because I wanted to” he got a little closer, his breath getting hotter and hotter against your skin “You rescued something in me effortlessly. Something that I thought was buried after what I went through.”

“Now I understand” you replied, letting go of his hands and holding Jongseong’s face between your small fingers. Your touch on his skin sent shivers all over his body. He thought he was warm after his bath and a nice dinner, but your touch made it even better “I just thought I was being a burden because I kept even Hazel away from what was going on.”

“But you don’t have to do this to me” Jongseong had a pleading tone in his voice, you could feel it in every word. “Because I like you and I want to be around to do everything I can.”

I like you. He said. Without pause, without wide eyes or regrets. You smiled without realizing it.

“I like you too, Jongseong. And I promise not to stop you from anything else in my life.”

“Oh, that’s good” he teased “Won’t you stop me if I kiss you now too?” your laugh was the sound he liked to hear the most in the last few months. The sound he liked to tease just to feel complete.

“You can do it whenever you want” was the cue for him to finally lean in and press his lips against yours. They were soft and warm, and you could feel him smile against your lips before parting his to press the tip of his tongue between your lips.

Your hands slid to Jongseong's shoulders and, as soon as he entwined his tongue with yours, tasting you, he wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you onto his lap. You kept your protests of surprise to yourself, settling yourself on his lap at the same time that you became familiar with having his tongue subtly touch yours.

Jongseong was taking it slow, savoring your taste and molding his mouth to yours as he led the pace of the kiss, resting his hands on your waist to keep you in place on top of his lap. Your head was spinning, wondering where he got so much courage to do that… He was the one who took great care to hold your hand, kiss your forehead, and scream into the pillow when he got to the apartment because he had been so close to your mouth and hadn't even managed to lean in.

But now here you two were, pressing your mouths against each other and feeling the rhythm of the kiss change every time Jongseong tightened his grip on your waist or you tangled your fingers in his hair to pull.

The breaking point was when you unconsciously shifted on his lap. The slight brush of your hips against his newly growing bulge made Jongseong gasp against your lips and swallow a moan that he knew would be loud enough. Instead, he slid his lips over yours and down to your neck to kiss and lick your skin.

He had no idea where your sweet spot might be, what to do with you, and how to proceed. Not wanting to cross any boundaries that day. So he went carefully, slowly kissing his way down your neck to below your ear, feeling your body shiver against his lap and your hips press into him a little more. It was your turn to let out a low noise, he knew it could very well be a moan if you weren't so shy.

“Don't hold back for me, Y/n” he whispered against your skin, sliding his teeth on your earlobe and moving down to your neck again “I want to hear you.”

Why had that simple, stupid sentence stuck right in the middle of your panties? Jongseong couldn't be serious, he simply couldn't say that kind of thing and pretend it had no effect on you.

Your response was a small nod, thinking better of returning what he was doing against your skin. As the kisses became more intense and wet, you decided to follow the movement of his mouth against your skin with your hips circling over his. The brush of Jongseong's cock against your pussy, the layer of clothing creating a nice friction in the sensitive area that you and he both wanted to touch so much.

“Fuck” he murmured against your collarbone, his fingers tightening on your hips, but not stopping you from moving on his lap. If he was guiding the pace of the kisses and marks he was leaving on your skin, he would let you guide the pace on his lap.

One of Jongseong’s hands left your hips to pull the shirt you were wearing, the collar going down enough on your skin to show your collarbone where he could continue the session of kisses and marks on you.

Your smile grew, along with the shivers running through your body with each kiss of his and each intensity with which his hips moved. The sweatshirts you both wore weren’t that thick, but it was a hindrance to have that amount of clothing between you and him, even so, it was something you would work on. Not to tease him, but to make it even hotter.

So you pressed your chest against his, hiding Jongseong's face against your neck and collarbone, keeping your hips so close that one movement forward and you could feel the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against your needy clit.

“Jay” you moaned his nickname for the first time, making the boy go into an internal meltdown at how that sounded to him. It was beautiful. A perfect sound that he never thought he would hear in his life. If you moaned like that just because of the way you and him were, Jongseong wanted to imagine the aftermath of it.

“Yes, love” he replied against your skin, lifting his face and placing a slow kiss against your chin. His eyes stared at you with so much affection but at the same time with so much desire that it made your head spin. His hands were still on your hips and he pulled you even further forward, rubbing your clit against the head of his cock again, sliding the entire length over his sweatpants “You're doing so good, you know that?”

You only had the strength to agree, nodding and moaning his name as you moved a little more willingly against Jongseong's clothed cock. He dared a little, the teasing was too much, but he didn't want to stop. Leaning back, he pulled your body along so that you were both more comfortable on the couch.

Now, he had enough strength to support his feet on the floor and push his hips up to go against your movements, so both you and him could feel each other's arousal even more.

Your panties were already sticking against the lips of your pussy, you knew that a few more frictions and your juices would be passing through his sweatpants. It would be shameful if you weren't seeing Jongseong's determination to follow your movements, moaning your name and pressing his lips against your jaw every time he knew he could moan louder when you rubbed in a specific way against his cock.

Something inside you was on fire, the knot in your stomach was getting closer and closer to bursting, and by the way, Jongseong was moaning, grunting, and pushing his hips against yours, you knew he couldn't be that far away.

It wouldn't be shameful to cum like that, after all, the friction was as good as the penetration. And you would be bold enough to ask for this to continue in his room. You promised you wouldn't let anything go by.

Another kiss was initiated, this time by you as you felt your clit throb every time it was pressed in an even more delicious way. The wet noise muffled by the sweatshirt, you couldn't tell if it was from your pussy or his cock, but either way, the pleasure was being very well distributed. You nibbled on Jongseong's lower lip, releasing slightly with a pop as you rested your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

“Jay, I—” you lifted your body, arching your butt a little higher to give more momentum to your movements. He placed his hands on either side of your buttocks, letting you slide down his cock even though you were still dressed.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. Your nod was the answer he needed, pulling you into a messy kiss as he thrust his hips again and intensified the rubbing with you.

The feeling was surreal. Cumming in your panties while still riding your orgasm with the shallow thrusts and over the clothes that Jongseong gave you to help you reach your peak. You moaned against his mouth, watching him swallow all your moans just as you did with his. His hips stuttered, but never really stopped to prolong that sensation until it bordered on overstimulation.

You fell against his chest, tired and panting. A little embarrassed by the sticky feeling between your legs, your cheeks started to heat up and you wondered if it was from the orgasm you had just had or if it was because reality was setting in and you had just dry-humped Jongseong.

Your eyes slowly opened, searching for his as he was already looking at you. A tired smile adorned the lips you loved kissing, along with a blush on the tanned skin you were addicted to. Both you and him looked down at the same time, and his chuckle made you feel a little more relaxed.

It wasn't just your sweatshirt that was sticky, but the large stain on his pants told you that the orgasm had been intense for both of you.

“We can clean ourselves up and lie down if you want” he whispered, his voice husky and deep, sending shivers down your entire body even after the intense orgasm you had had. Leaning towards him, you kissed Jongseong's lips and smiled slowly.

“Or we can continue this after we clean up too” you whispered back.

“Bold” he chuckled softly, “But I like it.”

“That’s good, right?”

“That’s great” he finished, kissing you once more before hugging your body to his. “Since you’re being bold, can I too?”

He had more time to be bold than you that night, but you would never stop Jongseong from being bold. From being cliché. You would never stop him from anything. So you just agreed, feeling him hug you even tighter as you hugged him back.

“I wanted to tell you that this apartment is too big for just one person” he hummed, his face slowly hiding in the crook of your neck. His smile grew bigger and bigger as he saw the fresh marks on your skin starting to turn a reddish color. You chuckled softly, already imagining where the conversation was going “Maybe you and I can share it. Only if you want, of course.”

He shrugged, outwardly pretending that it didn’t matter. But deep down Jongseong was afraid of your answer. He was afraid that he had been too invasive, even though the moment you two shared a few minutes ago had been more than intimate.

“Are you asking me to live with you?” your tone was playful, but even so, he still didn’t dare to look at you. He kept his face buried in your neck. He only agreed with a slight nod as he murmured, “I’ll need to see if your bed is good to sleep in every night, then.”

“Or we can do it on the couch every day. It’s comfortable here, isn’t it?” He finally lifted his head, his bright and inviting eyes making you sigh – internally and externally. It was your turn to rest your forehead against his, brushing the tip of your nose against Jongseong’s.

“Anywhere is comfortable with you” you whispered, kissing him slowly “You’ve convinced me.”

“Great” it was his turn to kiss your lips, sliding his hands from your waist to your legs, picking you up. Finally, he stood up with you in his arms, accompanied by your little screams and laughter along with his “Because I didn’t intend to let you go, anyway.”

It was so good to have let him into your life. And even better that he stayed because, honestly, you didn’t know if you would have been able to endure everything up until that moment without him.

You would be immensely grateful to your sister and Jaeyun for having introduced you that day at the restaurant, after all, they were both just repaying what you did years ago. Jongseong was right about that.

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