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angelseraphines · 6 months ago

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ೃ⁀➷ you can be the boss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ boss!cho sang-woo x employee!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ you had started working at joy investments a few months ago, a job you knew from the beginning you weren’t particularly suited for. numbers, spreadsheets, and statistical analysis felt foreign to you, but the evening hours worked well enough while you attended university. the pay was sufficient, and the promise of experience at such a reputable firm was worth the initial discomfort.

˚ ༘♡ getting hired had been a grueling process. three separate visits. a preliminary interview, where they assessed your general competence, followed by a secondary round that tested your ability to handle pressure. the final round had been the most nerve-wracking, a panel interview that felt as though they were peeling back layers of your personality, searching for weaknesses. when you were finally offered the position of secretary in the business investment sector, you accepted without hesitation. the role was simple, answer phones, manage the endless cascade of paperwork, coordinate schedules, and ensure the office ran like a well-oiled machine. simple, but draining.

˚ ༘♡ your department was overseen by cho sang-woo, an investment banker with a reputation that preceded him. you met him on your first day. he was tall, with sharp features softened only by the polished glasses perched on his nose. his ironed grey suit fit him perfectly, a testament to his meticulous nature. he was polite but distant, his words clipped as he showed you to your workspace. his focus shifted elsewhere as quickly as he arrived, consumed by the weight of responsibilities you could only guess at. despite his calm demeanor, there was something captivating about him, his quiet authority, the precision in how he carried himself, the faint traces of fatigue that made him seem more human.

˚ ༘♡ the first few weeks were suffocatingly mundane. you answered endless phone calls, most from irate clients demanding updates on investments you barely understood. your inbox overflowed with documents needing filing, scanning, or distributing. appointments had to be coordinated, schedules revised, and egos soothed. it was work that tested your patience, and yet, you did it without complaint. mr. cho rarely spoke to you beyond pleasantries, his days swallowed by meetings, late-night calculations, and hushed phone calls.

˚ ༘♡ on the rare occasions you stayed late, you noticed he often did too, seated at his desk with his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up, poring over spreadsheets or fielding yet another call. it became an unspoken routine for you to bring him coffee when you saw the office lights still on. he would glance up from his work, his glasses reflecting the faint glow of his computer screen, and offer a quiet, “thank you.” it wasn’t much, but something about those brief exchanges stayed with you during the long walks back to your desolate apartment.

˚ ༘♡ perhaps it was the contrast, how someone so stoic and seemingly untouchable could look so worn under the harsh fluorescent lights. or maybe it was the way he always acknowledged you, even in his busiest moments. either way, his presence made the monotony of the job feel a little less stifling.

˚ ༘♡ one evening, long after most employees had gone home, the office was quiet, the buzz of the city outside muffled by thick glass walls. the sky outside was smeared with hues of deep blue and violet, a harbinger of nightfall. after hours spent rearranging meetings, your eyes burned, and the air inside felt stale. you decided to step out for a moment, seeking the cool relief of the evening breeze.

˚ ༘♡ you pushed open the back door of the building and paused. mr. cho was there, leaning casually against the wall, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. wisps of smoke coiled lazily around him, catching the last rays of light. he looked… wretched. the angular lines of his face made obscure by an expression you couldn’t quite place. the glassy sheen in his dark eyes hinted at something far away, something melancholic.

˚ ༘♡ “i’m sorry,” you murmured, startled. “i didn’t mean to interrupt. i’ll leave you to it.”

˚ ༘♡ he turned his head slowly, shaking it. “no need. stay. i don’t mind.”

˚ ༘♡ his voice was steady, unhurried, like the rest of him. you hesitated, then let the door fall shut behind you. descending the short staircase, you stood a few paces from him. the city sounds, car horns, the hum of distant chatter, filled the silence between you.

˚ ༘♡ without a word, he took out a cigarette and held it toward you. surprised, you accepted, pressing it between your lips. he struck the lighter with a practiced flick, the small flame reflecting briefly in his eyes. leaning in, you felt the scathing heat as the cigarette caught.

˚ ༘♡ “you’re new here, aren’t you?” he asked after a moment, exhaling smoke that curled and dissipated into the night air.

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, drawing in your first hesitant puff. “yes, sir. i have been working at joy investments for about four months now.”

˚ ༘♡ “hmm.” he studied you, his gaze intent but not unkind. “interesting. some of the secretaries here have been around for years, yet you do a better job than most of them.”

˚ ༘♡ his words struck you, unexpected and disarming. “thank you, mr. cho. i try to do my best,” you said softly, your voice almost lost in the city’s backdrop.

˚ ༘♡ you stood there together, the silence stretching long but never uncomfortable. you flicked the ash from your cigarette, watching the tiny embers fall and scatter on the ground. eventually, you put it out against the metal railing and tossed it into a nearby storm drain. mr. cho didn’t move, still leaning against the wall, staring into the distance as you murmured a polite goodnight and slipped back inside.

˚ ༘♡ later, when your shift ended, you gathered your coat and scarf, bracing yourself for the cold walk home. you were buttoning your coat when you spotted mr. cho by the lobby doors, speaking with another member of his team. his presence was magnetic, even in passing.

˚ ༘♡ what surprised you was how he excused himself mid-conversation, turning to approach you.

˚ ༘♡ “are you walking home?” he asked, his tone more direct now. “it’s late, not exactly safe out.”

˚ ༘♡ you mulled over the proposition, your fingers tightening on your scarf. “i don’t mind the walk. it’s peaceful at night. i live in eunpyeong-gu, not too far from here.”

˚ ༘♡ he frowned slightly. “eunpyeong-gu?” he repeated, as though thinking over the distance. “i’m heading to ssangmun-dong. it’s on the way. let me drive you.”

˚ ༘♡ his words were more command than offer, but there was a warmth beneath them. he retrieved his keys from his blazer pocket, the metallic jingle cutting through the stillness.

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, accepting his generous offer graciously. “thank you, sir. i’d appreciate that.”

˚ ༘♡ his car was sleek and black, understated but undeniably expensive. he opened the passenger door for you without a word, the leather seats felt comfortable against your skin, and the faint scent of cologne and tobacco drifting in the air.

˚ ༘♡ the drive was quiet. the city lights of seoul blurred into long streaks through the tinted windows, and for that passage of time, the world outside felt far away. mr. cho said little, his hands steady on the wheel, his dark eyes fixed on the asphalt road ahead.

˚ ༘♡ when he pulled up to your building, he shifted the car into park but kept the engine idling. his eyes flicked to you, dark and unreadable, his usual composure fraying at the edges. “get home safely,” he said, his voice quieter than it had been all evening.

˚ ༘♡ you paused, your hand on the door handle, the chill of the outside air seeping in through the crack you’d opened. the thought of leaving the car, of letting the night end like this, made your heart ache. before you could think twice, the words slipped out. “would you like to come inside for tea? i was planning to brew some.”

˚ ༘♡ his brow lifted slightly, the slightest sliver of surprise crossing his features. he considered your offer for a while, he said nothing, merely staring ahead at the dashboard as if he was working through some internal debate. finally, he exhaled. “tea would be nice,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

˚ ༘♡ you led him up the narrow staircase to your apartment, the silence between you thick but not awkward. the soft hum of the building’s fluorescent lights filled the lounge area, and you could feel the subtle feeling of his presence behind you. when you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the herbal scent of lavender from an old diffuser greeted you. the space was modest, organized but lived-in, with books stacked haphazardly on a coffee table and a blanket draped over the couch.

˚ ༘♡ “make yourself comfortable,” you said, slipping off your coat and setting it over a chair. he stood just inside the doorway, his tall frame almost too large for the small entryway, his hands shoved into his pockets like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

˚ ༘♡ “you have a nice place,” he said after a beat, his voice tender but strained.

˚ ༘♡ you offered a small smile, glancing over your shoulder as you moved toward the kitchen. but you didn’t make it there.

˚ ༘♡ when you turned back, he was closer, standing in the dim light of your apartment like he wasn’t entirely sure why he’d followed you in. his eyes caught yours, and the short space between you felt like it dissolved in an instant. neither of you spoke, but the air was charged, something unsaid yet painfully understood passing between you.

˚ ༘♡ his hand reached out first, tentative, brushing against your arm as if testing the waters. when you didn’t move away, his grip tightened, and suddenly his mouth was on yours, fierce and urgent, like he’d been holding back for far too long. the scent of him, tobacco, something woodsy, filled your senses, and your hands moved instinctively, fingers digging into the fabric of his wool blazer.

˚ ༘♡ your back hit the wall softly, and then his hands were at your waist, his body pressed against yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. it wasn’t careful, and it wasn’t slow, it was messy, a tangle of mouths and hands, you were two people trying to lose themselves in each other for just a little while.

˚ ༘♡ you barely registered how you ended up in your bedroom, your coat and his blazer discarded somewhere along the way. the dim light from the streetlamp outside spilled through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. the bed was warm, and so was he, but there was an ache beneath it all, an edge of something desperate and passionate.

˚ ༘♡ when you woke the next morning, the light was harsh, spilling through the cracks in the curtains and illuminating the reality of the night before. you stirred first, the weight of him beside you a reminder of everything that had happened in that heated entanglement.

˚ ༘♡ he was awake, lying on his back with an arm draped over his face. his dress shirt was wrinkled, and his tie hung loose around his neck, half-forgotten. there was a tension in his posture, his hands clenched into fists, his lips pressed into a thin line.

˚ ༘♡ “i should go,” he said finally, his voice hoarse, hardly above a whisper. he didn’t look at you as he lifted himself over the edge of the bed, sitting there for a minute, trying to mentally gather the strength to move.

˚ ༘♡ you watched him, your heart sinking deeper with every passing second. “you don’t have to go,” you said delicately, your voice barely above a whisper. you reached out, your fingers brushing against his shoulder, hoping to mend this disaster in a pathetic gesture of affection.

˚ ༘♡ he tensed under your touch but didn’t pull away. “this shouldn’t have happened,” sang-woo muttered, his voice thick with self-reproach. “i’m your superior. i’m over twice your age…” his words trembled as he exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his black hair. the carefully calm demeanor he usually wore at the office was ebbing away, slipping through the gaps. “fuck, where are my glasses?”

˚ ༘♡ his frustration wasn’t directed at you, but it stung all the same. his gaze swept the room until he found them, the frames haphazardly thrown to the floor. he bent down to retrieve them, clutching them tightly in his hand.

˚ ༘♡ standing upright, he looked at you for the first time since he spoke, his expression torn with anguish. “i’m sorry,” he said, and for once, the words that left his lips sounded unpracticed, raw and genuine. “i shouldn’t have done this. i shouldn’t have taken advantage of my position over you.”

˚ ༘♡ you stayed where you were, the blankets tangled around you, half-dressed and vulnerable. his words landed like small cuts, brutal and wounding. “if this is your way of saying it’s the first and last time, just say that,” you said, despite the hurt bled through. “don’t hide behind excuses.”

˚ ༘♡ his eyes glistened with something, regret, guilt, or maybe even longing. “no,” he said, stepping closer, hesitant but determined. his hands reached for your face, his touch warm and grounding. “of course i would love to see you again, but how can we? i’m your boss. you work for me. it’s an abuse of power, and if anyone found out, we’d both be ruined. management at joy investments wouldn’t hesitate to fire us for violating corporate policy.”

˚ ༘♡ “then we keep it a secret,” you replied, your voice laced with desire, your gaze locked with his.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head slightly. “you think i wouldn’t want that? you think i wouldn’t want to steal moments with you, even if no one could ever know?” his voice dipped lower, almost a plea. “but pretending not to care about you when we’re in public, keeping my distance, watching you from across the room as if you don’t mean more to me than anyone else…” he broke off, rubbing his temple. “it would drive me insane.”

˚ ༘♡ “weren’t you already doing that?” you said, a small grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

˚ ༘♡ he blinked, then chuckled lightly despite himself. “i was maintaining professional boundaries,” he admitted, though the words sounded hollow now. he slipped off his glasses, polishing the lenses absently with the edge of his sleeve. “boundaries i’ve crossed in every possible way last night.”

˚ ༘♡ he paused, his gaze returning to yours, weaker now. “so maybe you’re right,” he added, his lips curving into a wry, self-deprecating smile. “what’s left now for us to ruin?”

˚ ༘♡ the affair continued in shadows, a secret tether binding the two of you as the world moved obliviously around it. at work, everything appeared as it always had, professional, restrained, unassuming. he never lingered too long at your desk, never glanced your way for more than a few fleeting seconds. if anyone noticed anything amiss, they never said a word. yet, behind closed doors, the charade unraveled.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo would text late at night, asking to see you, his messages never too explicit but unmistakable in their intent. you would find yourself in his car again or at a hotel just out of town, places chosen carefully to avoid recognition. in those moments, he was different, a vulnerable man. his hands would hold you like he couldn’t bear to let go, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that belied the restraint he showed the rest of the world.

˚ ༘♡ but even as his touch ignited you, doubts began to creep in. at first, they were small, quiet things, easily dismissed when he whispered your name like it was the only word he cared to know. yet over time, the flaws became unfathomable to ignore.

˚ ༘♡ you started to notice how he never stayed too long after. he always had somewhere to be, an early meeting, an obligation with colleagues, an excuse that left you alone in bed, staring at the ceiling. at work, he was cordial but cold, his focus fixed on maintaining appearances.

˚ ༘♡ “we have to be cautious,” he’d say, his tone firm but not unkind. “you know how people talk. one rumor and it’s over for both of us.”

˚ ༘♡ you nodded each time, swallowing your sorrow, pretending it didn’t sting. but it did. the secrecy, the pretending, the constant tug-of-war between what you wanted and what you could have, it wore on you.

˚ ༘♡ weeks turned into months, and though the moments you shared with him were still intense, they began to feel hollow. you weren’t just hiding from the world; you were hiding from yourself.

˚ ༘♡ you started to wonder what you were to him. not a girlfriend, he never called you that. not a partner, because partners didn’t live in secrecy. what was the point of loving someone who couldn’t even say your name without glancing over his shoulder first?

˚ ༘♡ you confronted him one evening, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “what are we doing? what am i to you?”

˚ ༘♡ he froze, the usual calm, calculated expression gone. “you’re everything to me,” he said finally, but the words felt too rehearsed, too easy.

˚ ༘♡ “then why does it feel like i’m nothing?” you asked, your voice cracking.

˚ ༘♡ he rubbed the back of his neck, pacing the room like a man trapped. “it’s not that simple. my position, my reputation, it’s all i have, sweetheart. if people knew about us, it would ruin everything i’ve worked for.”

˚ ༘♡ “and what about me?” you shot back, the heat rising in your chest. “do you think this doesn’t ruin me? hiding, pretending, giving everything to you and getting scraps in return?”

˚ ༘♡ his shoulders slumped, and for a second, you saw something raw in his eyes. “i love you,” he said, and you believed him. but love wasn’t enough, not like this.

˚ ༘♡ “then prove it,” you said bitterly, your voice shaking.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t answer, and the lack of answer spoke louder than any explanation could. he was a man desperate for respect, for the image he’d spent years crafting and perfecting. and you were an unfortunate deficiency in the foundation, a risk he wasn’t brave enough to take.

˚ ༘♡ as you stood there, the existence of your situation all settled on your shoulders. you realized you were giving pieces of yourself away to someone who could never give you the same in return. and for the first time, you weren’t sure if you could keep doing it.

˚ ༘♡ he reached for you, his touch hesitant, but you stepped back. “sang-woo, i can’t continue being your secret,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i deserve more than that.”

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t stop you when you left, and that, more than anything, told you everything you needed to know.

˚ ༘♡ he spent the next few weeks trying, in every way he knew how, to reach you. his texts came first, short, imploring messages that grew more desperate with each passing day.

˚ ༘♡ you never responded, deleting them as soon as they appeared. then came the emails, written in his typically formal tone but laced with an underlying urgency that bordered on uncharacteristic. he didn’t beg, but the underlying message was clear, he was losing his sanity over you.

˚ ༘♡ at work, sang-woo started appearing in places he never had reason to be, near your desk, by the break room, even in hallways he had no meetings to attend. every time, his eyes would search for yours, pleading silently for something, acknowledgment, forgiveness, anything to mend the chasm that had opened between you. but you refused to meet his gaze, your resolve hardening even as your heart ached.

˚ ༘♡ eventually, he stopped. no more texts, no more emails, no more waiting outside your office. it was as if he’d resigned himself to your silence, as though he understood you had no intention of reopening the door he’d closed with his hesitation.

˚ ༘♡ but not at heart.

˚ ༘♡ you saw it in the way he carried himself now, his body tensed, his stride slower, his face devoid of the quiet confidence he used to exude. in meetings, he seemed distracted, his eyes landing on you only to dart away when he thought someone might notice.

˚ ༘♡ when you passed each other in the corridors, the pain in his expression was unmistakable. he didn’t try to speak to you anymore, but the way he looked at you, like you were something he’d lost and could never reclaim, was worse than any words he could have said. it was agony, for both of you, and you felt it every time.

˚ ༘♡ you told yourself this was for the best, that you couldn’t live your life tied to someone who wouldn’t fully claim you. you told yourself that his claims of love wasn’t enough when it was buried beneath secrecy and shame. but those rationalizations didn’t stop the hollow ache in your chest every time you caught his reflection in the glass of the office windows or saw his hands fidgeting during a presentation.

˚ ༘♡ he wasn’t just grieving the loss of you, he was punishing himself for it. you saw it in the way he avoided the employee lounge now, where you might be, the way he no longer stayed late after work, perhaps because the silence reminded him of what had once been. he was a man unraveling in slow motion, and though it hurt to watch, you knew you couldn’t be the one to put him back together.

˚ ༘♡ you told yourself you couldn’t think of him forever. and yet, in the quiet hours of the night, when you lay awake in your empty apartment, you found yourself wondering if he was awake too, staring at the ceiling, trying to forget you the way you were trying to forget him.

˚ ༘♡ when he suddenly stopped showing up one day, you told yourself it didn’t matter. you’d spent weeks distancing yourself from him, building walls to protect the fragile peace you were trying to restore in your life. his absence should have been a relief. you should’ve been grateful for the quiet. but instead, it gnawed at you.

˚ ༘♡ you reasoned he might have taken a business trip or been sent to a conference. yet, as the days stretched into weeks, the silence surrounding his disappearance became impossible to ignore. whispers began to circulate in the office, snippets of overheard conversations that sounded too wild to believe.

˚ ༘♡ “forgery,” someone murmured near the coffee machine. “embezzlement,” said another, their tone tinged with disbelief. “siphoning client funds, can you imagine? what an idiot.”

˚ ༘♡ you dismissed it at first, refusing to entertain the thought. rumors spread like wildfire in the corporate world, often fueled by jealousy or boredom. but the uneasy feeling in your chest wouldn’t leave.

˚ ༘♡ unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, you sought out the manager of all investing departments, a stern man known for his no-nonsense approach. he seemed surprised when you asked about cho sang-woo but didn’t wait to provide an answer.

˚ ༘♡ “it’s true,” he said bluntly. “he siphoned money from client accounts to fund personal investments, stocks, futures, the works. lost every cent. he’s disappeared now. hasn’t answered calls or emails. if he shows up again, he’ll be fired on the spot and handed over to the authorities unless he reimburses the clients in full. but, between you and me, i doubt he has the means.”

˚ ༘♡ you stood there, numb, the significance of all that occurred with you ignorant to it all pressing down on your chest. sang-woo, austere, professional, and fiercely intelligent, had done this? the man you thought you knew, who always carried himself with precision and dignity, had thrown everything away on a gamble?

˚ ༘♡ you wanted to be angry, furious that he could have made such reckless choices. but instead, all you felt was an overwhelming wave of worry. where was he now? what was he doing? was he even safe?

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t stop yourself. you called his number, your fingers quivering as you pressed the digits. it rang and rang, only to cut off. no voicemail. you texted him, pleading for an answer, any sign that he was okay. nothing.

˚ ༘♡ the lack of response was unbearable, so you did the only thing you could think of, you went to his neighborhood. it was an impulsive decision, driven by a pitiful dismay you couldn’t suppress.

˚ ༘♡ you arrived late in the evening, the streets quiet under the dim glow of streetlights. his building loomed ahead, its windows dark and uninviting. you buzzed his unit at the entrance, your heart pounding in your chest.

˚ ༘♡ no response.

˚ ༘♡ you buzzed again, and again, your desperation mounting with each unanswered call. finally, an older tenant passing by offered to let you in, probably mistaking your apprehension for something more passive. you murmured your thanks and slipped inside, the air in the stairwell gloomy and stale.

˚ ༘♡ you reached his door and knocked, the sound echoing in the stillness. “sang-woo?” you called out, your voice exhausted. “are you in there?”

˚ ༘♡ nothing.

˚ ༘♡ pressing your ear to the door, you strained to hear any sign of life, a shuffle, a breath, anything. but the apartment was silent, as if no one had been there for days.

˚ ༘♡ a burdened pang pierced at your chest, and you leaned against the doorframe, fighting the rising surge of fear. what had happened to him? where could he have gone?

˚ ༘♡ you tried to tell yourself he’d resurface eventually, that this wasn’t your responsibility, but it was a hollow comfort. the man you’d loved, the man you may still love, was out there somewhere and you couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

˚ ༘♡ you stayed at the door longer than you should have, staring at the splintered wood as though it might suddenly yield. but it didn’t, and you left with a growing sense of unease. it wasn’t until you stepped onto the street, cold air biting your cheeks, that you caught sight of him.

˚ ༘♡ he was farther down the block, walking briskly, his head low, his shoulders hunched against the evening chill. his clothes were rumpled, his actions were quick and uneasy, like he was trying to outrun something. you stood still, watching him for a few minutes before instinct kicked in.

˚ ༘♡ you followed him at a distance, your heart pounding harder with every step. he didn’t notice you as he turned a corner, heading toward a dingy motel that sat on the edge of the neighborhood. the neon sign buzzed faintly, flickering erratically, casting a sickly green glow on the pavement.

˚ ༘♡ he disappeared inside, and you hesitated for a moment before pushing through the door. the motel’s lobby smelled of stale cigarettes and mildew, its yellowed walls decorated with faded prints of generic landscapes. you saw him again, down the narrow hallway, his motions slower now as he unlocked a door and slipped inside.

˚ ༘♡ you followed, your pulse a chaotic drumbeat in your ears. when you reached the door, you knocked, first lightly, then harder. no response.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo,” you called, your voice low but steady. “it’s me. open the door.”

˚ ༘♡ nothing.

˚ ༘♡ your hand hovered over the handle, and when you pressed down, it gave way. the door creaked open, revealing the dim, suffocating space beyond.

˚ ༘♡ the room was barely lit, a single bulb flashing weakly overhead. clothes were draped haphazardly over the back of a chair, and an empty bottle sat tipped over on the nightstand. the air was thick, the scent of alcohol and something that reeked of chemicals clinging to every surface.

˚ ༘♡ then you saw him.

˚ ༘♡ he was in the bathroom, the door half-open, slumped in the narrow, grimy tub. the water was filled to the brim, cloudy and tinged with a faint, sickly hue. an empty soju bottle dangled from his hand, his head tilted back against the tiles. his shirt was half unbuttoned, clinging damply to his skin, his face pale and weary.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t move. your breath caught in your throat as you took in what was haopening, the torment of the painful scene before you hitting you all at once.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo,” you said, stepping into the bathroom, your voice horrified. “what the hell are you doing?”

˚ ༘♡ his head turned slightly, his gaze unfocused but intense enough to bore into you. his lips twisted into something that might have been a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “what does it look like?” he muttered, his voice slurred and thick.

˚ ༘♡ you crouched beside the tub, grabbing the glass bottle from his hand and setting it aside. “you’re out of your mind,” you said, your tone hard but trembling beneath the surface. “is this your plan? to drown yourself in this… this mess?”

˚ ༘♡ he chuckled, the sound brittle and malicious. “it’s not a plan,” he said. “it’s… it’s only easier. don’t you understand? everything’s gone. the money, the clients, the respect. i lost it all. so what’s the point?”

˚ ༘♡ you wanted to shake him, to drag him out of the water and back into the real world. instead, you stayed where you were, staring at the man who seemed so far removed from the one you thought you knew.

˚ ༘♡ “you think this fixes anything?” you murmured. “you think disappearing into this terrible motel will make it all go away?”

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t respond, just let his eyes drift to the chipped ceiling.

˚ ༘♡ you stood, your hands quivering as you turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel, tossing it at him. “get out of the tub,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument. “dry off. sober up. and then figure out what the hell you’re going to do. because this?” you gestured around the room, your frustration emerging. “this isn’t an answer. it’s pathetic.”

˚ ༘♡ he flinched at the word, but he slowly began to sit up, the water sloshing over the edge of the tub. droplets clung to his skin, and his movements were sluggish, like he was dragging himself through quicksand. you didn’t offer to help, stepping back instead, arms crossed as the sound of water dripping onto the marble tiled floor.

˚ ༘♡ “oh my gosh, get yourself together,” you muttered, yet you sounded as if you were on the verge of tears.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t respond, just sat there for a moment, his shoulders slumped, his hair plastered to his forehead. eventually, he grabbed the towel, wrapping it loosely around himself as he climbed out of the tub.

˚ ༘♡ the atmosphere was suffocating, dense with unspoken words and unacknowledged fear. he walked past you without meeting your eyes, water pooling on the floor with every step.

˚ ༘♡ then came the knock.

˚ ༘♡ it wasn’t loud or insistent, only a single, deliberate tap against the door. your eyes snapping toward the sound. for an agonizing instance, neither of you dared to act, the atmosphere shifting into something more solemn, something grave.

˚ ༘♡ “who is that?” you asked, your voice unstable.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t answer, but his brow lowered, his unease evident. he took an unstable step toward the door, but before he could reach it, a card slid through the slit beneath.

˚ ༘♡ the stark white rectangle lay on the worn carpet, the edges crisp, as though it had been placed with care. you moved first, bending to pick it up, your fingers skimming the surface.

˚ ༘♡ when you flipped it over, you saw on one side there was a simplistic, unsettling design, a circle, a triangle, and a square, printed in bold black ink. the shapes were clean, symmetrical, and yet somehow they carried a dreadful presence.

˚ ༘♡ you turned the card over, the other side detailed a date, stating the twenty-third of june, and a location, which only stated it being as the same one was before, leaving you bewildered beyond comprehension.

˚ ༘♡ “what is it?” he asked, his voice rough, ridden with something between interest and dread.

˚ ༘♡ you held the thin piece of paper out to him, letting him take it from your hands. his expression darkened as he studied it, his fingers constricting around the card.

˚ ༘♡ neither of you spoke. the silence was unbearable, the air electric with implicit perplexity and the creeping realization that whatever this card was, it wasn’t random.

a/n: a little longer than my other works, please let me know your thoughts and if you would like me to turn this into a series. part three of the professor cho-sang woo series is also coming soon!! 🤍

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zkg2318 · 7 months ago

Text

Blood on Fire ~ pt. 1 | LHS

A/N: this is part 1 of the BOF series! I have decided to divide this story up by who's sex scene is in it, but in order to fully understand the story, you must start with part 1 and finish (if you want). they are plot driven, and context will not make sense if you start with part 2, etc...

genre/tags ✶ MDNI reverse harem!hyung line x afab!reader, angst, smut, gore and violence, supernatural themes, (sirens, werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, phoenixes, frost elves, dragons, witches, and more…), underground betting, alcohol use, blood, verbal and physical violence, murder, manipulation, death (no major characters, lol kinda), government themes (not political), fight club au, ot7

synopsis ✶ In a city where the supernatural are arrested on sight, the only refuge for their pent-up rage is “The Enha Arena”- an exclusive, hidden venue where creatures engage in brutal, blood-soaked battles with one another. Concealed beneath the unassuming exterior of “Dusk and Dawn,” a gym that serves as the front of a totally legal business, this underground fight club acts as the epicenter for this violent world where supernatural beings not only fight for dominance and pride but for the sheer thrill of it all. In dire need of some money, you find yourself drawn into the fight club when you come across a black market job posting- an offer for a new trainer at the gym. Desperate for new ways to keep your own abilities under wraps and even learn about other supernatural beings, you accept the position, completely unaware of the dangers and complicated relationships that await you

WC ✶ 16.9k

Part 2

smut warnings under the cut

smut warnings ✶ monster erotica (obviously), blood play/kink, love bites, spanking, dubcon, bondage, unprotected sex, aphrodisiac usage (kinda), degradation, pet names, oral fem!receiving, vaginal fingering

Luxta was different from other cities; it was neither big nor small- large enough that not everyone knew each other by name, but small enough that you didn’t need to make it a day trip to get to the grocery store. What set apart Luxta from other cities was the thriving population of supernatural beings living in the shadows, though their existence was only known by the government and select humans. The rest of the world, including the unsuspecting citizens of Luxta, had no idea that they walked on the same streets as did you so-called ‘monsters’, the ones that should have only ever existed in stories.

Being supernatural was illegal in Luxta and if you were to be caught by those hand-held scanners the government officials in the enforcement division wore around their belt, you’d be arrested on site. They weren’t as far-reaching or accurate as the large, reinforced scanners that were mounted in the back of their trucks or brought to building inspections, but they were enough to ruin your life. So, like everyone else who had the misfortune of being ‘different’, you stayed hidden.

There was one solution to these scanners: suppressants. A sort of perfume that you could use to spray on yourself that would make you undetectable to their scanners. But they were difficult to come by, the production being regulated by one man and their distribution being restricted to underground networks that sold them at sky-high prices. And they were experimental at best, coming with an abundance of long-lasting side effects and malfunctions that didn’t guarantee 100% effectiveness. For the few people that could afford one, they were used as an emergency fall-back.

And for the majority few that didn’t have that luxury, they stayed in The Veil, the black market’s so-called ‘base’ for the supernatural. For you personally, you lived there until you turned three, when a blue-collar couple took you in a few days after your birthday. “Adopted” wouldn’t be the right word- “purchased” would fit the situation better. Given only a handful of humans knew about the supernatural, these types of ‘transactions’ came with a strict clause that if broken, were punishable by death. Even so, 90% of supernatural children grew up as orphans, relying on The Veil for support.

Being adopted in the supernatural community was supposed to be some sort of grand escape from poverty, and in a way, it was. But since meeting your parents, you never stepped foot outside of your home. From the moment you met your parents, you never left your parents’ 800 square foot apartment and its measly excuse for a patio that overlooked the area where people took out their trash.

You existed only to service your human parents- like some sort of bloody commodity. At first, you didn’t know any better. A few healing touches here, a bit of supernatural magic there- it was harmless. But as you grew older, smarter, it didn’t take a genius to know why you were really there. You were just a piece of capital to them, a tool to be used.

As a phoenix, you were an expensively rare commodity. Your regenerative and healing abilities made you invaluable, and many people sought after those traits- but few possessed those characteristics. Your parents, both construction workers, were no stranger to danger in the field. Injuries were a part of their daily lives, and having you around to heal their wounds was an advantage they never hesitated to use.

It was routine- your mother’s strained back from lifting heavy materials and your father’s broken bones from working with heavy machinery. It was the perfect system, your healing touches allowing them to return to their jobs faster than most could manage, like a money making pig. But their injuries were extensive, more than just a mere cut or bruise. Every wound you healed required a certain amount of energy, the more severe wounds drained you of energy for days. As time went on, you felt your body getting weaker and weaker until eventually, you just couldn’t do it anymore.

Whether it was because your body was drained of its own powers or you just couldn’t find it in you to help them anymore, you stopped healing them. So at 14 years old, they kicked you out of their home when they realized they couldn’t extort you of your powers anymore. The realization that you parents had only used you for your abilities hits you hard now, but at the time, it was like a huge burden had been lifted off of your shoulders. And now, for the last six years you’ve been living alone in a poorly lit apartment that’s been funded by The Veil; two years out of highschool and working part time jobs at home all while remaining disconnected from the world outside. Since being kicked out, you hadn’t physically interacted with anyone aside from the person that delivers your groceries to your door. At this point, you’re starting to think you have a deeper connection with your delivery driver than anyone else in your life.

But now, even that little security was slipping away from you. The Veil was making room for the next generation of supernatural kids, which meant only one thing- you were getting kicked out. You still had a few more months to get your shit together, find a new place and make sure you had a stable enough job to maintain yourself in this economy. Your side hustles weren’t going to be enough to cover a first and last month's rent deposit anywhere. So that’s how you ended up here, pulling on some workout gear for some gym training job you found on the dark web for a place called “Dusk and Dawn,” a supernaturally owned gym that operated within the shadows of the black market. The wage was kind, almost too kind and it had you second-guessing the legitimacy of the job- but you were in no position to play it safe right now.

There wasn’t much of an interview process, just some email telling you that your first day would involve being shadowed by a staff member to see how well you interact with their clients. It sounded doable, despite your half empty resume and lack of any formal qualifications. But surely, your years of self-defense training during your free time through a computer screen counted for something, right?

When night finally settles over the city, you leave your cramped studio apartment, watching garbage sweep across the broken cracks in the sidewalk as you hastily make your way down the alleyways. It always took a bit longer to get to where you wanted when you took the back alleys over the main roads, but it was a safety net you had no choice but to rely on whenever you went out. The shadows of the alleys felt safer anyways, more familiar to you than the brightly lit streets that crawled with government officials late at night.

Luxta was always scarce at night, save for the few men in blue that scoured the streets looking for the supernatural under the guise that they were just keeping watch over the neighborhood. When the supernatural had first invaded the city, it was more of a slow encroachment than a sudden flood. It started with a few whispers at first, shadows passing by in the night. Then rumors began to stretch across the city as sightings of these fleeting figures moving faster than the human eye could imagine became more and more frequent. It was never officially confirmed what they were, but the government responded swiftly and labelled the mysterious occurrences as nothing more than a mere increase in criminal activity.

The men in blue- members of the government’s enforcement division- were sent out in droves after that, scouring the streets while armed with silver scanners clipped to their belts. Their devices would emit a piercing alarm at around 90 decibels whenever it detected a supernatural presence, irritatingly announcing their capture to anyone nearby. It’s game over once you hear that alarm, immediate handcuffs specifically designed to detain the supernatural. What happened after was anyone’s guess.

There’s speculation in the supernatural community about what they do with you after you’re arrested: years of brutal testing, harsh interrogations, maybe even torture only to conclude it with a senseless execution. But no one outside of that division knew what happened beyond the arrests made in public. And no one knew why they were even populating Luxta in the first place. The only thing you did know was that your only ally was The Veil.

Arriving in front of a dimly lit building that is squished between a post office and a laundromat, you’re pulled from your thoughts when you see a flickering “Dusk and Dawn” sign hanging above the entrance. You look at the windows, but you can’t see past the dirt and scratches that decorate the glass, obscuring any view of inside. With a nervous breath, you push open the door to the entrance, its rusty bell ringing above you as you enter.

Your eyes fall on the counter before you, its fading white paint peeling at the sides from years of wear and tear. Behind the counter sits a woman with sleek black hair and rectangular framed glasses that accentuate her sharp jawline, “Hello?” you call, glancing around the small waiting room.

The woman glances up, her brown eyes zeroing in on you as you step closer, “And you are?” she asks with disinterest in her tone.

“I’m Y/n, I’m here for orientation as the new gym trainer?” you respond. Up close, you can see that she’s around your age, maybe a few years older with smooth skin and dark eyes that shine at you despite the deadbeat tone she uses to address you with.

She gives you a curt nod, her expression slightly brightening, “My name is Yuqi, I’m the manager here,” she slides off of her stool, the old wood creaking beneath her. “Were you able to see well in the dark, I know the hours of your orientation seem a bit odd, but we’re a 24/7 gym.”

Your mind hesitates as you recall the unspoken question to recognizing a fellow supernatural: asking about the darkness of the sky, “It was glimmering enough for me to see clearly, thanks.”

Yuqi narrows her eyes before offering you a smile, flicking her tongue at you. You watch as her eyes transition from a dark brown to a piercing yellow, her pupils narrowing into a slit. A subtle hiss comes from her as the forked tip darts out at you in a dangerous frenzy. You freeze, mesmerized by the way her thin tongue moves in an unsettling precision, like she’s trying to reel you in, “I’m a serpent, but if you really wanted to get technical, I’m a basilisk,” she explains, observing your wide eyes, “You don’t seem to know many supernatural, do you?”

You blink at her, shoulders slumping as you shake your head.

“Well, if orientation goes ok, you’ll be meeting a lot more supernatural people here. Things can get… intense,” she says, her eyes glinting with pride. “Come,” she gestures for you to follow her, guiding you through a large room filled with old gym equipment that look like they’re about ready to break. You don’t stop there though as she continues to lead you into a dim hallway where a heavy iron door clad with locks and chains at the end of the hall is. You hear a thrum of things clanging on the ground and low murmurs behind the door, and an uneasy tension begins to coil in your chest.

“So, how much do you know about our gym?”

“The ad only told me I’d be helping people work out, nothing more.”

Yuqi raises her eyebrow as she reaches into her pocket, pulling out a silver key. When she begins to unlock the chains, she turns to you, “Don’t be alarmed, things are just different here,” she says calmly, undoing the last lock.

With a rough push of her shoulder, the door opens with a heavy click, unveiling a space that feels worlds apart from the one you just saw minutes ago. The polished bamboo floors shine under the cool lighting of the gym, the industrial light fixtures hanging 6 feet in the air. Each area of the gym is meticulously organized, groups of machines clustered by function on top of black rubber gym tiles. There’s even motivational black and white posters hanging on the walls, accompanied by black plates that adorn the walls near the benches and squat racks. It all feels so overwhelming, the sheer volume of equipment just waiting to be used.

But the most striking feature of the auditorium had to be the imposing boxing ring that sat to the left of everything, its rubber barriers worn and fraying in a way that commanded authority. Encircling three out of four sides of the ring was a bunch of bleachers that looked as though they had been spray-painted black to match the aesthetic of the black and white theme the rest of the gym was following, giving it a high-end yet gritty finish.

“Welcome to the Dusk Gym,” Yuqi says with pride laced in her voice, her gaze sweeping over the space in front of you, “What you saw outside was our Dawn Gym. I know the ad said you’d be helping people work out,” she continues by gesturing at a few of the members working out on some of the equipment, “but that’s only a fraction of what you’ll be doing.”

You turn to her, confusion evident in the way you tilt your head and furrow your brows, “What do you mean?” your voice carries a mixture of wariness and intrigue as Yuqi’s thin lips curve upwards into a smirk.

“Nestled within Dusk Gym is the Enha Arena,” she reveals, her voice dropping a few decibels as she points to the boxing ring, “This is where supernatural beings come to fight one another, to test their limits and use their powers without worrying about the legal repercussions,” She matches your gaze with her own and presses her lips together, “We are technically an underground fight club, Dawn Gym is just a front. There’s an official match with spectators once a month. And yes, this is extremely illegal.”

Listening to her words, you swallow a string of saliva building up in your throat. As she continues, an uneasy wave washes over you and a coil begins to tighten in your stomach.

“Your job isn’t just to guide them through their workouts, but to prepare them to fight one another, to teach them how to harness their abilities and control them. One mistake in public, and they jeopardize not only themselves, but the entire underground community.”

Her words hang in the air like an impending storm, the heavy weight of them waiting to strike. A nauseating tension settles in your stomach as you begin to question your capabilities for the job, your confidence waning by the minute. Uncertainty swirls through your mind, your lacking qualifications pressing against your forehead like a swollen thought. “You’ll be given a journal that was started by our old trainer- it’s got notes on every member in the gym, so don’t feel like you’re going into this blindly.”

You press your lips together, “Ok, anything else?”

“You’ll also need to make sure they’re pushing themselves to be their best without losing control. It’s on you to make sure they’re ready to fight, mentally and physically. At the end of the day, we’re a fight club and that’s how we make most of our money.”

You hold her gaze, finally feeling her words settle like lead. “Ok, but why a fight club? Why all the violence?” You feel your words catch in your throat as you ask, feeling as though this may be too much to take on. But you couldn’t turn it down, the pay was good and there weren’t many other supernatural jobs that were hiring.

Yuqi looks around the gym, nodding towards a few of the patrons that were already working up a sweat before answering your question, “I’m sure you’re well aware of this already, but the majority of us have spent our lives isolated from the real world. A lot of us don’t know how to regulate ourselves. Not being brought up properly didn’t give us the chance to learn how to cope with big emotions. The Veil helped create this place for us, a space for the supernatural to confront their inner demons and let their anger out in a safe environment” her voice softens for a moment, the slit of her pupils expanding briefly, “In a place like this, they don’t have to hide.”

Her words hit harder than you expect, cutting through a part of your heart that still aches for your past. Despite leaving the community, you had still hidden yourself. Even after being taken in and offered what you were forced to call a home, it felt more like a prison than living without a roof over your head. Forced to hide away what was an extension of yourself and acknowledged only when it benefited the two people who were supposed to love and cherish you, you never thought you’d see the day where you could embrace your entire being. Yet here you are, standing in a place where you weren’t a secret anymore but rather a strength. It’s foreign, and if it weren’t for Yuqi’s words holding up a mirror to your own past, you never would’ve questioned what life was like where you weren’t discriminated against for being different. You would be an idiot to not take this job up now.

“Now, be a good girl and introduce yourself to one of our patrons. I’ll be right behind you.” She shoves you along a bit, following after you with a soft laugh. “You’ll be working with Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon. They’re four of our seven regulars here.”

You bite your lip out of nervousness and find the nearest patron, only getting a view of his back as you watch him push through a set of squats. You can see his muscles strain beneath the weight, each striae bulging beneath the tight compression of his black long-sleeve. His focus is nearly palpable as he executes each movement with a haunting precision and you almost hesitate to introduce yourself, but Yuqi pushes you forward again and into his peripheral vision. When you stumble in front of him, you see that his skin is a striking porcelain white and you feel a sub zero chill run through your spine as you step into his presence. Noticing your feet awkwardly shuffling from one weight to the other, he pulls his earbuds out and gives you a strikingly cold stare.

“Hi, I’m Y/n,” your voice trembles a bit, your confidence wavering as an icy chill travels through your veins. Your next words catch in your throat as you begin to find it harder to focus, the temperature of your body becoming colder by the second. “I’m a new trainer here… at Dusk and Dawn. I’m just getting to know everyone.” You kick yourself internally for fucking up your intro, but your mind falters when your muscles begin to stiffen, the coldness gripping you like an iron vice.

Frozen in place, you opt to stare into Sunghoon’s eyes, a storm of frost and grief storming behind them. There’s a mysterious depth to them that draws you in despite the arctic freeze that’s creeping through your body, an irrational pull to figure him out.

When Yuqi notices your frozen state, she moves to deliver a sharp smack to the back of Sunghoon’s head, “Knock it off, Sunghoon,” She scolds, throwing him a venomous glare. “You’re not a walking AC unit,”

The boy has an air of arrogance to him that floats around him like a cloud, thundering when she gets too close. Rolling his eyes, his lips curve into a mocking smirk before he slides his earbuds back in as if dismissing you. You’re about to scoff when Yuqi slips her arm through yours, pulling you away before he can catch a glance at your flushed out cheeks. “Please excuse him. He’s a frost elf, so don’t expect much empathy from him.”

“Is that why I nearly died of hypothermia all of a sudden?” you ask, rubbing your arms despite your core temperature returning back to normal almost immediately.

She sighs, shaking her head as she drags you over to the next patron. “Probably, it’s a defense mechanism of his. When he feels negative emotions like annoyance or just wants to push someone away, his body temperature significantly drops, as well as whoever else he wants to affect.”

“So he did it on purpose?”

“I’m not sure,” she answers, tapping her foot on the floor, “It’s integrated into his sympathetic nervous system, so it normally activates when his fight or flight gets triggered. But if he really wanted to, he could control it. But I’ve noticed he just lets it happen whenever, like it’s his way of telling people you’re pissing him off.”

You give her a simple nod, filing the information away in the back of your brain to jot down for later. When you gather yourself, your gaze falls onto the next patron- a tall, lean guy who was too busy re-racking his weights on the bench press to notice your presence. His taut muscles flex under his white compression shirt as he handles the bar, each side stacked with more weight than you could imagine. “Fresh blood?” he asks without even sparing you a glance.

Before you can respond, Yuqi leans over, “He’s a vampire. He can smell your blood from miles away. Just don’t stare into Heeseung’s eyes for too long.”

You give the woman a nod of confirmation, playing it off as if meeting a vampire was just a regular occurrence. Turning to the vampire, you offer him a short but polite greeting, looking anywhere except his crimson gaze. Just like with Sunghoon, you find an invisible tug pulling you towards him that has you craving more, an unknown urge in your belly asking you to uncover whatever it was this person was hiding from you.

He shoots you a knowing smile, his pearly white fangs peeking out while he narrows his red eyes on you, as if testing your resolve. His stare pierces through you, slickening your core with a striking heat that has you instinctively pressing your thighs against each other. You feel a warmth begin to pool in your stomach as your composure starts to crumble, his gaze melting you like frost in the morning sun, “Yeah, that’s enough of that,” Yuqi says, pulling you away from his heat induced fixation.

Her grip on you is uncomfortably tight as she pulls you over to a corner where another person is working hard at a punching bag, each one of his strikes sending a powerful ripple through the tough canvas. The rhythm is hypnotic as he paces around the bag, his muscles surging with every hit. You stay back and watch for a moment, flinching as he assaults the bag with an unspoken aggression, years of pent up anger charged with each punch. Without even turning to address you, he snarls in an aggravated tone with his lips curled up, “Don’t bother, I already heard all the introductions.”

You raise an eyebrow and turn to Yuqi, finding yourself increasingly annoyed at the little respect you’ve been offered from the boys. “That’s Jake, another one of your trainees. Don’t mind him either… he’s a werewolf, so his hearing is enhanced, as well as all his other senses.” Yuqi looks around momentarily before connecting her hands together, turning to give you a small smile.

“Alright, I think you can find the last member assigned to you by yourself, but there is one more thing I’d like to show you,” she places a hand on your shoulder and guides you back over to the entrance. Gesturing upwards with her hand, she points to a glass booth that was suspended above the gym floor, facing the Enha Arena on the other side of the gym. “That’s our staff room. We have access to it 24/7, letting us control who enters and exits the Dusk Gym. Patrons will use the same entrance we came through with a staff to unlock the chains and everything, and we all leave through this one-way exit,” she points to a smaller door a few feet away from the entrance.

Looking over to where she points, you feel a sense of finality wash over you. The gym was starting to feel more and more like a fortress by the second, all the security features overwhelming your mind. “This isn’t just a gym, Y/n,” she says as if reading your mind, “It’s a sanctuary, and we take security here very seriously. Come find me in a few hours once you’re done, ok? I’ll be in the booth.”

With a final wave, Yuqi disappears up a staircase, leaving you by yourself with the few patrons that were still training. There were only four men in the gym, which meant the last one had to be Jay. Looking around, you spot him at the pull up bars, a grunt escaping him with each rep.

Sweat slickens your hands, and before moving, you hastily rub your hands up and down your leggings. “Hey,” you say, waving your hand. The boy hops off the pull up bar and looks at you expectantly with an eyebrow raised exceptionally high, “My name’s Y/n, I’m just introduced myself as the new gym trainer here.”

“The name is Jay, though I don’t think I’ll need much help…” he looks you up and down, his gaze terribly imposing as he takes you in, “... from you.”

You scoff at that, swallow the urge to get to know him better like a bitter pill. Like a switch, you narrow your golden eyes at the boy, refusing to let him brush you off like that, “If you want to fix that poor pull up form, you’ll want it,” your voice is rich with annoyance as you feel a deep sense of aggravation draw from within you.

He lets out an airy laugh, a breath of fire escaping his mouth as he does, “I don’t take advice from people who think ‘chin ups’ count as a real up.”

“Keep saying that when your protein shakes start tasting like the salt from your tears,” you shoot back, forcibly shoving him to the side, “And I don’t do chin ups,” Jay stumbles into the bar as his eyes begin to glow with an orange hue, an amused annoyance radiating off his warm body while a smirk creeps onto his face.

You jump onto the bar with ease, gripping the iron structure firmly before pulling yourself up in one fluid motion. With an almost annoying ease, you begin to pump out as many reps as possible, each one silently taunting him. Eventually, you drop back down to the floor once you find yourself losing count, letting your chest rise and fall with a feigned exertion.

“That’s cute, but half reps don’t count,” he declares, straightening his posture as the smirk on his face dies out like an old flame, “Now move, I’ll give you something to fucking count.”

You roll your eyes as you step back, letting him line up below the bar, “Did you need a spot, or can you get up there by yourself?” you tease, but he shuts you up with an angry grunt.

As he powers through each movement, every motion as fluid as your own, you catch a glimpse of red as his tank top moves with the speed of his reps. Red scales decorate a part of his lats and shoulders, shimmering like molten embers embedded in his skin, catching underneath the glint of the harsh lights hanging from the gym ceiling.

“Good job, Jay. Maybe you’ll graduate to a real pull up,” you say, a smirk playing its way onto your lips as you turn around. Without waiting for his response, you make your way towards the sound of metal banging on metal.

In another area of the gym is Heeseung, sitting at one of the high-end rowing machines, working up a sweat as his muscles flex under the synthetic material of his shirt. When you fall into his line of vision, he drops the grip to the row, “Can I help you?” he asks, his voice dripping with an allure as he eyes you up and down.

“I noticed your right shoulder was sagging, did you recently strain your rotator cuff?” you say, pointing at his shoulder.

He rubs the shoulder in question, feeling for the pain and nods his head, “Some bitch twisted me into the ring ropes of the arena, fucked up my shoulder and everything,” he grunts, moving it around as if to show he was still in pain, “I was just going to let it heal itself.” He moves to pick the grip back up, wincing as he pulls backwards on the heavy weight attached to it.

Without thinking, you reach out to him and place your hand over his, pulling back when he flinches away from your touch. “Sorry, but you’re just going to make it worse if you keep going,” you tell him, “Can I touch your shoulder?”

He drops the grip again, letting it hit the metal bar in the middle of the machine with a loud clang before looking at you with a coy smile, “Be my guest.”

You ignore the obvious tease in his voice and step closer to him, reaching your palm out to cover the curve of his shoulder. A quiet hush falls between the two of you as warmth diffuses from your hand while a soft orange glow emanates from your palm. The warmth intensifies as it spreads over his shoulders like liquid fire, seeping into his muscle until you feel the tautness melt away.

Heeseung’s red eyes widen slightly as he pulls away from your touch, rolling his shoulders back, “What the hell was that?”

“I’m a phoenix,” you say simply, amusement flickering across your face as you watch astonishment cross his features, his stoic mask dropping for a brief moment.

“Shit, didn’t think I’d ever meet one,” he mutters under his breath, quickly resuming his workout to test out his newfound repairment.

A twinge of sadness tugs on your heart as his words settle over you like a heavy weight pressing you to acknowledge the sad truth of the fact. You force a smile, despite his focus being elsewhere, “Yeah, we’re quite rare now,” you say more to yourself than him, an affirmation of the loneliness written into the stars. Your thoughts are burdened by the inescapable truth: you’ll never encounter another phoenix as there can only ever be one solitary ember burning in this world, destined to rise and fall until their purpose is fulfilled. At least that’s what Google says.

Heeseung finishes his set as you stand back awkwardly, unsure of what to do, “You should spend some time with Niki, he tends to hurt himself a lot during training. Usually Minnie helps, but she can only do so much with a sports medicine degree.”

“Who is Minnie?”

Heeseung stands up from the machine, seemingly done with rowing, “She’s just another trainer here. She works with Sunoo, Jungwon, and Niki.” He explains, using a towel to clean the seat on the row machine, “There are some other trainers, like Yuqi, who work with the casuals, but the seven of us are Dusk and Dawn regulars. We kind of hold the fort down here.”

“Good to know, thanks,” you say with a quick nod. When he starts to move to another machine, you don’t follow him and instead offer him a quick wave goodbye, “I’ll see you around, Heeseung.” When he nods you off, you leave the gym, ascending the same staircase Yuqi had used earlier to head up to the office. Reaching the top, you’re met with a short hallway. At the end, a single door on the left catches your eye- the staff room. With a quick knock, you enter the room to find Yuqi sitting at a large desk with several monitors in front of her, security camera footage running across each screen.

Hearing you enter, she swivels her chair around, a large smile on her face as her snake eyes long and you, “Just the person I wanted to see!” she exclaims, waving her hand for you to come over, “Looks like you’re getting along quite well with the boys, so I’ll go ahead and email you the schedule for their training sessions and the journal I was telling you about earlier. Their next match is in two weeks, so you’ll be preparing for that.” She turns to grab something from her desk, reading for a worn out leather journal, “You did more than enough today, so study this journal and I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, placing the item in your arms with a satisfied nod. You take the tattered journal from her, the weight of its content acting as a tangible reminder of the crazy few hours you just had.

When you exit the building, the early morning air hits you like a slap, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. The streets were devoid of any governmental presence now, too much of a commitment for them to maintain any vigilance past 3 a.m. You knew they’d be back on the streets around 12 p.m., and that the neighborhood would soon be populated with moms and their strollers and people walking to work by 7 a.m. the earliest. So this four hour period in which the streets were abandoned was something the supernatural community knew well, a time slot in which the supernatural could leave their homes and stretch their legs without having to worry so much about being caught.

As you walk home, you see figures blur by you at an unnatural speed while others propel themselves dozens of feet into the air, skipping across roofs. It was a testament to what the human eye could only deem as a fantasy, but to you, it was an unspoken reality that only thrived in the quietness of the early morning. Even during this time, though, there were still limits. Elemental abilities were still kept at bay- no one dared to bend water or fire in public so openly, no matter the hour of the day. Those who did wield such powers stuck to minute things like changing the temperature of their body or whispering the flicker of heat into an angry flame.

And you knew there was still a whole other realm of abilities you weren’t aware of, tucked away beyond layers of secrecy the supernatural world was too scared to show. There was only so much research you could scour online before it became repetitive and almost theorized by rumors. The shame of living in a universe where it was illegal to exist gnawed at you everyday, and you were becoming desperate for life beyond scratching the surface of freedom. Each moment spent outside of your home left you with an aching curiosity, questions unanswered indefinitely.

But with the journal Yuqi gave you, clutched tightly in your grasp, you had a sliver of hope. Maybe it wouldn't grant you the freedom you’ve wanted for the supernatural all these years, but you hoped it could answer some of the questions that have been burning at the back of your head since your parents kicked you out.

When you arrive at the steps of your rundown apartment complex, you slowly make your way up the creaky stairs until you slip inside the dimly lit studio. Flicking the light switch on, you watch as a single bulb pathetically sputters to life, casting a faint glow across the room. There’s a lack of light in the hours where the sun doesn’t shine through your one window that acts as a source of constant frustration for you, making it nearly impossible for you to see without the flashlight from your phone or the fire from your fingers. But with your new job and new paychecks, you’re starting to hope you’ll be able to find a place that has bulbs stronger than a meager 40 watts.

With an exasperated sigh, you throw your belongings onto your patchwork couch and change into an old shirt and panties. As much as you wanted to dive into the journal that Yuqi had so generously given you, the dim lighting of your apartment made it almost impossible to read. You could’ve used the flashlight on your phone, but the lack of a working outlet left you unable to charge it if it died. And as much as you would’ve liked to cast a pretty flame from your fingertips, they were far too much of a fire hazard inside the old wooden walls of your studio apartment. Instead, you decide it’d be best to just wait until the early afternoon when the sunlight enters your window naturally.

When the sun rays do filter through your window, you spring upwards in bed, your body restless despite the pitiful amount of hours you managed to snag. For the first time in years, your night wasn’t consumed with a monotonous amount of homework or the glow of online workout videos in a lonely room. Instead- no matter how chaotic- you had a new purpose. You were exhilarated to keep going, fuelled by only a few hours of sleep yet ready to take on the next few days coursing with energy- a trait Phoenixes prided themselves upon: resilience.

With a precise stretch, you reach over to your desk and grab the journal you set aside from earlier. Nestling back into bed, you open the first page to reveal a comprehensive list of all the supernatural beings that had ever attended Dusk and Dawn over the years. Your eyes scan through the list of names, a mess of words that bleed onto the next page. Some are expected, familiar even- werewolves, vampires, dragons, griffins- but there are some that catch you off guard: valkyries, kitsunes, fairies, centaurs, and many more. Yet, you notice that not a single phoenix appears on the list, and it leaves an invisible weight sitting on your shoulders.

Moving through the next few pages, the entries become more and more detailed as they start to divulge into each patron, starting with Heeseung. His name is scrawled out on the top of the page in fancy letters, and underneath it readers ‘Vampire.’ A barely legible sketch of his face is drawn next to his name and you let out a soft laugh as you trace your finger over the old led before drawing your eyes down to Heeseung’s written description.

Heeseung came to Dusk and Dawn seven years ago, seeking for a way to cope with the anger of his parents abandoning him at the age of 16. He has been a general joy to have, often participating diligently in activities and putting his best foot forward in matches. Throughout his years at Dusk and Dawn, staff has observed that when pushed too far, Heeseung enters a state known as vampiric rage. Symptoms include: severe blood lust, glowing red eyes, feeding compulsion, disturbed/over enhanced senses, uncontrollable aggression, and predatory behavior. It is recommended he be taken into isolation when this occurs until he calms down

Power descriptions: hypnotic gaze, enhanced senses (strength, smell, sight, hearing), night vision, super speed. Please revise if necessary

You swallow the lump in your throat when you finish reading his entry, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach as you turn to the next page. Jongseong is the next name you see, and in parentheses the name Jay is written next to it with a large ‘Dragon’ scrawled underneath it. There’s another half-hearted sketch drawn next to it, and you notice the birth mark added to his neck, a darker patch on the left side of his neck.

Jay first came to Dusk and Dawn a few months after Heeseung, bringing a similar energy as the latter. Shaped by the self-resilient upbringing he developed under The Veil’s guidance, he has showcased a few profound characteristics that stand out during training. His past cultivates a very competitive spirit that is landmarked by a web of complex trust issues, resulting in a volatile temperature which resembles that of a pressure cooker.

Power descriptions: scale armor, pyrokinesis, enhanced strength. Please revise if necessary

On the next two pages are profiles for Jake and Sunghoon, the last two members Yuqi said you would be training. Beneath Sunghoon’s name are the words ‘Frost Elf’, and ‘Werewolf’ beneath Jakes.

Jake joined Dusk and Dawn shortly after Jay and Heeseung with a unique backstory, coming from a lineage of other werewolves, he sought out this place after losing his family during an attack. His personality fluctuates heavily between being quite friendly and open to acting quite aggressive and aloof. During full moons and times of overstimulation, he struggles with the primal side of his werewolf blood coming into full effect: excessive aggression, overprotection of his packmates, animalistic instincts, and loss of rationality. Jake should be carefully monitored for any signs of depression d/t history of family loss

Power descriptions: enhanced senses (smell, hearing, speed, strength), healing saliva (minor wounds), scent tracker, lethal bites and scratches. Please revise if necessary

Below Jake’s profile is Sunghoon’s.

Sunghoon joined a day after Jake with the primary goal of fighting people. Like Jay, he has navigated the challenges of all life stages by himself and upon joining Dusk and Dawn, he openly admitted to struggling with recognizing emotional cues and controlling his powers. It has become evident over the years that Sunghoon has made significant progress in developing his abilities, yet he often chooses to not exercise control unless absolutely necessary. Rather, he tends to resort to violence when provoked, that he just “doesn’t care” as stated by Sunghoon himself.

Power descriptions: cryokinesis, frost armor, temperature manipulation/aura. Please revise if necessary

Upon finishing Sunghoon’s entry, an overwhelming sense of responsibility descends over your shoulders, prompting you to close the book and reflect. The solemn history of these four members has you reconsidering your qualifications, debating whether you’re just in over your head and blinded by the hourly wage of your new job. Did you have the societal experience to connect with them and guide them in the way that Yuqi was expecting you to? Really, they too grew up alone or abandoned at some point in their life, isolated from the real world- but they had more time to learn about the real world through Dusk and Dawn than you did. What right did you have to go ordering them around and telling them what to do?

Heeseung had previously mentioned that there were three other regulars that attended the gym, but because they weren’t training with you, you decided it’d be best to wait until you met them before reading their entries. Right now, your immediate focus was on sharpening your own skills.

So with your renewed determination, you divulge into a whirlwind of rigorous training. The next few hours leading up to your second training shift is filled with a relentless cycle of speed drills and high-intensity circuits designed to test your endurance. Your goal wasn’t to just be stronger- you already had that. Instead, you aimed to outlast the boys. Stamina would be your greatest asset working at Dusk and Dawn.

After who knows how many hours, your phone alarm goes off indicating you had one hour left before your next shift started. You take that time to shower and clean up, taking an especially hot shower. Clad in a new pair of leggings and tank top, you walk back to the gym, retracing the same alleyways and backroads as you did the night before.

“Hi, Yuqi.” you say, greeting the serpent hybrid supernatural sitting behind the front desk. She's got her head tilted down with some magazine in her hands, her black framed glasses perched low on her nose as she reads.

She acknowledges you with a low hiss, her forked tongue flicking up and down in the air. “Here are some keys,” she says, tossing a set of keys at you to which you catch mid-air. “Take the boys into the elemental training room when they get here, you’ll learn about their abilities there. It’s just Niki in there right now”

With the keys in one hand and your backpack strap tucked in the other, you make your way down the familiarly dim hallway where that same iron door stands at the end, wrapped in a chain of metal. Laying against the rusting door were at least three padlocks, and after a minute of figuring out which key goes where, you push open the door to reveal the glory of the Dusk gym once again.

The familiar clang of weights hitting against one another fills the air, echoing through the large auditorium as you walk in. Setting your bag down against a long black bench beside one of the cement pillars, your eyes draw in on a tall, unfamiliar boy whom you presume to be Niki, working out in front of the numerous mirrors lining the gym. As you approach him, you can’t help but let your focus fall on the way the vein in his bicep bulges with every rep, straining when the dumbbells press against his chest. You lean against a machine nearby, momentarily forgetting your intent to introduce yourself to him. “Looking for something?” he says, glancing at you through the mirror. Your attention snaps back up to respond, but he’s not there.

“I’m right here, sweetie.” the voice continues to tease, this time coming from behind. You spin around, your gaze travelling the area as you look for the source but to no avail.

A dark laugh that seems to only fill your thoughts starts overwhelming you, the absurdness of the voices in your head making you spin. Shutting your eyes, you will the laughter to go away. Suddenly, a tap on your shoulder jolts you out of your thoughts and the laughter comes to a stop. Opening your eyes, your gaze finally lands on the boy you saw in the mirror, his sharp eyes glaring down on you with a mischievous glint, “So you’re the infamous trainer I’ve heard so much about.” He says, leaning down to match your height.

You clear your throat, “That’s correct. And I’m assuming you’re Niki?” Stepping back, you attempt to create some distance from the relatively tall boy standing before you.

He nods his head, letting the fringe of his black hair fall into his eyes. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, stepping into your space despite your previous attempt to distance yourself. He bites his lip as his mouth curves into a devious smile, eyes darkening. Reaching for your hand, he interlocks his fingers in yours, “So you’re a phoenix…”

He brings your hands up to your vision so that the both of you can see, his large hand almost devouring yours completely, “I can play with fire too.” He says, squeezing your hand harshly. Suddenly, a glow of embers envelopes your hands completely, a scalding heat spreading between you both as his powers force yours out as well.

But as quickly as the fire emits, it extinguishes, a flash of blue striking the flame and leaving only a cloud of smoke in its wake. “Cut it out, Niki,” a voice calls from a distance. Turning to the sound, you see a boy with ashy brown hair approaching you with graceful strides, “We’re not supposed to use our elements in the gym, there’s a specific place for that.”

“Alright, Katara.”

“It’s Sunoo, not Katara.” The boy corrects, bowing to you.

“Could’ve fooled me with that water bending of yours,” Niki pesters, squeezing Sunoo’s ears after letting go of your hand.

Sunoo gives Niki a face as he swats the taller boy’s hand away from him, shooting him a darkened glare that leaves Niki in a slight daze. “Are you guys ever gonna act like your age, or are we stuck with the mental capacity of a 10 year old?” a voice calls from behind. Sunghoon’s chilling voice pierces through the air as he comes into view, casually dressed in a pair of gray sweats and white tank, a disturbing contrast to his arrogance. He shoves his hands into his pockets before adding, “You guys are fucking children.”

An arctic freeze radiates off of his otherwise relaxed body and Niki begins to tremble, angrily flicking his arm to emit a glow of fire that crawls up his arm and down his torso. “Stop using your temperature manipulation on us, Yuqi said you’re supposed to control that shit,” Sunoo scolds, moving closer to Niki to feel his fire.

You roll your eyes, feeling bored of their tense exchange. “Enough, just get into the training room before you rip each other’s heads off.” you demand, your voice laced with annoyance. The boys grumble in response, muttering things that you don’t bother to decipher as they walk into a dark room tucked away in the back of the auditorium. When you enter, you flick the light on to reveal a large gray room, both its floor and walls adorned with the same glossy stone material- though they’re marked up by what you assume is years of burn marks and blunt force. The room is a quarter the size of the gym, holding an abundance of training dummies and bullseyes; amongst other things.

“Line up here,” you say, pointing to the back of the room. They kick their shoes off before stepping onto the black gym mats, moving in silence. “I’ll have you guys each target train on a dummy so I can get a gauge of your guys’ skills. If you don’t have an ability that requires target training, just don’t line up.” You say as you kick your own shoes off.

Before you can continue, an out of breath voice interrupts you, “Am I late?”

You turn around to see the silhouette of a boy who seems to have run all the way here. Rather than answering, you nod your head to the mat in annoyance, “Who are you?”

“Jungwon,” he offers, presenting you with a smile to which the pits of his dimples show. For a second, your shield of authority falters for a brief second when your eyes pass over his grin, but you’re quick to pick it back up as you address Sunghoon.

“Sunghoon, can you tell me what each of these boys are?” He opens his mouth to complain, but you catch on to the change in his demeanor rather quickly, “Without complaining.”

He bites his lip, grumbling something under his breath before proceeding. “Niki is a kitsune- a childish one at that. Sunoo is a siren, and Jungwon is a shapeshifter. And I’m a frost elf, but I’m hoping you already knew that.”

Looking down at your watch, you frown when you realize that more than half of your own group is missing and you were supposed to start ten minutes ago. “Ok, let’s start,” you annoy, stepping off to the side.

“Shouldn’t we spar? We already know how to target train,” Sunghoon tests, cinching his eyebrows together in annoyance.

“Did I ask?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow at him. “Sunoo, go first.”

Sunoo grins, dramatically flicking away a strand of hair from his face before stepping forward. He steadies himself, planting his feet firmly on the floor before narrowing his fox-like eyes at the dummy across the room. In one graceful motion, a stream of water burst from his hands, gradually growing in volume before he thrusts his hands forward, sending a jet of water towards the target. The liquid splits down the middle as it moves through the air, weaving around itself before slamming into the target.

When it hits, Sunoo begins to sing- his voice a piercing yet soothing high that seems to resonate with the movement of the water. The liquid responds, wrapping around the target like a mermaid’s tail, constricting the target more and more with every second. When Sunoo’s voice fades, the water falls, limp of any life it once had.

“Well done,” you say, giving him a nod of acknowledgement, “But I’m worried about your singing. You become quite vulnerable when you sing, though your water becomes very powerful when you do, so come up with a way to make yourself safe before performing something like that.”

Sunoo smiles at you as he accepts your critiques, stepping aside. He brushes past Sunghoon with a smirk you don’t quite catch and the responding boy pushes him into the wall. You nod to Sunghoon next, who steps forward to take his spot, his confidence radiating in a piercing chill around him. He doesn’t wait for further instruction before he’s raising his hand to eye level, creating a razor-sharp shard of ice that cuts through the air and tears straight into the dummy’s chest with cunning precision. Upon impact, the ice splinters, shattering the dummy beyond repair.

Before you can offer your commentary, Sunghoon’s launching himself into a side-flip, a long blade of ice forming in his hands mid-air. When he lands, the floor beneath him transforms into a sheet of ice. With amazing ease, he glides towards the other dummies and wields the blade of ice into each target with a lethalness that has you flinching.

His chest heaves up and down as the ice underneath him dissipates, returning the floor back to its original material. He carries himself with a cold arrogance, his head thrown back as he walks back to the line. “What the hell…” you whisper, not catching the way your eyes ravage his body, his veins bulging out of his arms. Sweat glistens down his porcelain skin and you subconsciously rub your thighs together to quell the unnatural feeling in your core.

“He’s hot, right?” a voice from behind you whispers, loud enough for only you to hear. You turn around only to see Jake standing beside you, just inches away from.

“When the hell did you get here?”

“When Sunoo finished, but you were too busy ogling at Sunghoon to notice.”

“I was not ogling, I was evaluating,” you correct, taking a step away. Jake is quick to compensate for the pathetic distance you try to put between you and him, bringing his body even closer than it was before until you can feel the heat of his body radiate off onto yours. He’s taller than you, not as much as the others, but enough to make you want to crawl inside of yourself and disappear as he breathes in your exhales.

“I may just be a werewolf, a mutt as some of the boys like to call me, but I’m just as strong as Sunghoon,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Maybe even stronger.”

His voice sends a rush of heat down to your core, only adding on to the slick that’s coated the seat of your panties. Fueled by a mix of arousal and anger, you force yourself to choose the latter to control your next decisions. Stomping on his foot, hard, you give Jake a throaty snarl, “Get in the damn line.”

Jake smirks, ignoring the pain that shoots up his foot, “I just know you’re gonna be begging for me soon,” he whispers once more before sauntering off to stand next to Jungwon.

“Well?” Sunghoon’s voice pulls you out of your own mental storm and you look up at him, “Any comments, Ms. Y/n?”

“Dial it back a bit,” is all you say, nodding at Niki next. Sunghoon rolls his eyes, biting back a smirk as he plays oblivious to the fact that he didn’t just catch the way you watched his every move as he walked back into the line, staring at him like a bitch in heat. Just like all the others, he thinks to himself as he watches Niki step up to the spot he was in originally.

Niki is your focus of attention now, steadying himself into a ready position before allowing his body to engulf in a rage of flames. He strides towards the group of targets, flaming embers dripping off of him like a molten sweat as he approaches. As he moves closer, a swirl of fire surrounds the targets and fills the air with an eerie, high-pitched laughter that echoes off the walls. The swarm of fire morphs into a crowd of sinister faces that leer at the targets, hauntingly paralyzing if you were to look them in the eye. It’s disorienting, even to watch as a spectator on the sidelines as the faces transform into flaming spears that shoot into the dummies- a copycat of Sunghoon’s ice shards.

The room immediately fills with smoke as the targets burst into flames, smoke stinging your eyes. Sunoo jumps into action then, dousing the fiery targets with a storm of water, clearing out the smoke. The room is silent except for the soft sizzling of the dummies rematerializing in front of you as brand new, like some sort of magic. “Alright, Jake is useless with elements and Jungwon would rather spar than copy our powers, so can we finally start hitting each other?” Sunghoon asks, breaking the tension in the room.

Jake lets out a growl, slamming his fist into Sunghoon’s unsuspecting body, “Suck my cock.”

In a matter of seconds, Sunghoon’s dark brown eyes transition into a furiously bright blue, his hand materializing a razor-sharp ice blade. He lunges towards Jake, raising his arm up at the boy to attack but you step in immediately, a burst of flames surrounding you as you teleport to Sunghoon’s side. “Enough!” you yell out, Sunghoon’s arm held tightly in your hand. “No more of these stupid fights unless it’s during an official match or sparring. And Sunghoon,” you twist his shoulder until he’s wincing, “I will not have you slicing Jake open with your blades of ice.”

You bring your hand down to grip the girth of his ice-blade before looking at the others, “Go to the damn ring and put your wraps on. Now.”

As the group begins to exit, you catch Sunghoon’s arm with a sharp glare. “Not so fast.,” you mutter. A surge of heat pulses through your palm and immediately melts his blade, the crystalline weapon quickly losing its shape and dripping onto the padded floor. With a final shove, you send him stumbling to the ground.

“What the fuck, Y/n?” He hisses, shooting you a blue-eyed glare.

“Out.” You hiss with finality, watching with your eyes as he stomps out of the room. The door slams behind him, echoing with the anger he harbors towards your actions. You could care less- finally alone for a brief moment. You draw in a deep breath, an attempt at steadying your racing pulse. The air is thick with apprehension and you feel a knot developing in your shoulders, one that likely wouldn’t have developed if it weren’t for the boys’ constant bickering. There’s a frustration that bubbles beneath your authoritative facade, one that’s bordering the lines of blowing up.

You lean against the wall and close your eyes for a brief moment, taking that second to let the darkness consume you. In that moment of peaceful blindness, you seek solace in the unknown- almost yearning for your life in isolation to come back. “It’s nice to see someone keep the boys in line,” the voice has you opening your eyes, focusing in on a girl that steps out from the shadows of the training room. Her pink eyes sparkle with warmth as she approaches you, a broad smile painting her face.

“Are you Minnie?”

“What gave it away?” she giggles, “Sorry, something came up yesterday during your orientation so I couldn’t meet with you, but I’ll be able to spend some time with you today.” She takes a hold of your hand, humming softly as a warm glow radiates between the connections.

Her gesture sends a wave of relaxation through your tense body, easing the knot in your shoulders as the light travels through your veins. “I’m a light fairy,” she explains, “one of my powers is to calm people down through touch.”

You smile into her touch, placing your free hand atop your connected ones, “I may need you around me indefinitely,” you prod at the tense air gently, though deep down you both know it’s not entirely a joke. The weight of everything despite it only being your second day was already feeling like too much. Her warmth was like a much needed respite.

Minnie laughs again, infecting you with a joy you didn’t think was possible. When the light between your hands fades, she pulls you out of the room. “Boys!” she exclaims as she approaches the ring, waving at the group of boys who have started warming up. You notice Jay and Heeseung are already there.

Sunoo and Jungwon are the only ones that bother to look up, waving back excitedly before rushing to the edge of the arena, leaning on the rope rings to peer down at the two of you. “Hi noona!” Jungwon says, reaching his hand out toward Minnie.

Minnie connects her hand with his and closes her eyes, a ball of light transferring between their intertwined fingers, “Are you gonna calm them down?” she whispers, a soft melody that could make you fall asleep. Jungwon nods, letting the light dance along his skin before it dissolves when he disconnects their hands and bounds back to the boys to tussle around with them. With his back turned, Minnie looks at you with a melancholic gaze, one that doesn’t really match her vibrant energy from earlier, “The older boys don’t let me touch them, they’re a bit closed off like that, but I get it,” her voice drops off as her gaze drifts back to the older members, a longing sadness in her eyes. Though it doesn’t last long before she turns back to face you, “When they get riled up, Jungwon copies my powers temporarily and does the same thing I did with you. They seem to trust him the most.”

You turn to watch Jungwon, his hands subtly climbing the backs of the older boys as a soft luminescent glow of light identical to Minnie’s pulses from his fingertips and transcends through their bodies. He continues to mess around with them, shadow boxing with the elders as each one of them slowly let their defenses fall.

“My boys don’t get as angry as yours,” Minnie continues, running a hand through her blonde hair. “I think that’s why Yuqi paired me with them. She knows I can only handle so much negativity as a fairy.” She pauses to glance over at the boys once more, smiling when she sees Jungwon’s head stuck in between Sunghoon’s arms- a sisterly affection radiating off of her body. “I think their outbursts are what made the old gym trainer quit. If I’m being honest, they’re quite dangerous when their emotions get the best of them. They’re rough around the edges, but they’re good people on the inside.”

Her words spark a curiosity deep inside of you, and you press on for more info as you continue to watch them from outside of the arena. “Have they known each other for a long time?” You ask, noticing their sibling like energy, despite the tension from earlier.

“I think some of the boys have known each other since they were in the community, and others have just met a year ago when they joined the gym. But they all get along differently, some are really close while others aren’t.” She gives you a grim smile, “I think Sunghoon’s got the most complicated relationships out of all of them. Frost elves aren’t exactly known to be friendly, but he’s different with these boys. I dont think he’d ever really hurt them- at least not seriously. He really cares for them, he just lets his emotions get the best of him.”

Her candid assessment of Sunghoon roots you to the spot, prompting you to process her words right then. You had noticed something too- he was especially closed off when you first met him. There was a storm in his eyes when his gaze landed on yours, one that seemed to cloud his judgement. It was raw and unfiltered, hiding what you felt was a war of control in the back of his mind behind a fog of indifference.

Shaking your head, you give Minnie a grateful nod and gesture to the ring, “Should we get started?” Her face lights up and she slips into the arena, lifting the ropes up for you as you follow after her. You bounce against the padded cushion of the ring, adjusting to the flooring before addressing the group of boys before you. “Let’s start off with Jake and Jay, no powers. Just pure strength and skill.”

Jake and Jay separate from their impromptu shadow boxing match, leaving the other boys to move off to the side, leaning against the ropes like its routine; varying levels of interest on their faces. Sunghoon’s got his arms crossed with a bored expression across his face, like he could be doing anything else than watch other people fight. Next to him, Niki looks intrigued, his head slightly tilted like a little puppy as he awaits the match. The rest of the boys seem indifferent, neither bored nor interested as if they’ve seen this a million times.

In the center of the ring now is Jay and Jake, facing each other as they steady themselves in their own personal ready positions. Jake has his right foot forward, his hands up to his face in a rather tense position as he narrows his eyes at Jay. The latter is more calm, his posture relaxed while his hands are held loosely at his face. “Go.”

Jake is the first to move, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet as he sizes up Jay, initiating an unspoken agreement to move counter-clockwise in the arena. The two boys circle around one another for a few seconds, each step heavy with tension as their gazes become predatory. Jay throws the first punch, lunging forward with a fast left jab, but Jake anticipates his movement and strides to the side, allowing Jay to graze his ear. Jay overcompensates and passes Jake, barely stumbling forward while Jake’s lip curls into a grin, laughter erupting from his belly.

Rolling his eyes, Jay kicks his foot back, connecting with the back of Jake’s knee. In an instant, Jake is on the ground, dead-legged by his opponent. “Dumbass,” Jay mutters, smirking to himself when he turns around. He steps back, allowing Jake to get back up.

Jake regains his composure quickly, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his neck. Jay moves in one more time- using his right arm this time as he aims for Jake’s jaw, but he ducks out of the way again, throwing a left hook into Jay’s side. The force of his punch has Jay gasping for air, hunching over from the velocity as he staggers back to catch his breath. It doesn’t hurt, but rather knocks the wind out of him. There’s a brief silence as Jay quickly catches his breath, steadying himself as he gives Jake the chance to go on the offense this time.

Sweat is beading on both of their foreheads now as the tension in the air thickens. You watch as Jake begins to circle around Jay again like a predator stalking his prey, locking eyes on him once more. With lightning speed, Jake flies forward to uppercut Jay’s jaw, blood flying in the air as Jay bites down on his tongue- hard. Jay doesn’t falter though, immediately responding with a jab and two crosses to Jake’s face. They stumble away from each other for a brief second before going at it again, throwing a mess of punches and kicks at each other until they can barely hold themselves up.

You get a good look at their faces once they separate- a thick stream of blood spills from Jay’s chin, the familiar taste of metallic filling his mouth. He smiles, teeth bloodied as he’s reminded of the adrenaline from fighting- a chemical surge of power. He brings a wrist to his lip, pulling back to see bright red staining his skin. When he looks at Jake, he observes his best friend in a similar state, a jagged cut across his eyebrow and blood gushing from his left nostril. You don’t even want to imagine the bruises developing beneath their clothes where they clutch at themselves like a kicked puppy.

You step forward, wincing at the blood staining their faces. “Alright, that’s enough,” you say, looking over at their hunched over figures. Jake and Jay, flushed out and breathing heavily begin to unwrap their boxing wraps. Limping to the middle of the ring, they exchange a quick handshake and slap on the back before slipping out of the ring to clean themselves up at the benches. The pungent mixture of sweat and iron has you cringing when it slams into your senses, causing you to wrinkle your nose up in disgust. “We’ll take a quick break and then I’ll have Sunghoon and Heeseung spar next.”

Before you can turn away, a voice- unfamiliar and brooding- slices through the murmur of conversation amongst the group. “Mind if I hop in?” You whirl around to the source of the voice, your gaze landing on a figure taller than everyone in the room standing just a few feet away from the arena. He’s clad in a black zip up jacket and white sweats that hang loosely around his lean, athletic build, “My name’s K. Just signed up at the front desk.”

You tilt your head to the side as you take in his presence. There’s something unsettling about him. The air around him seems dark, hanging off of his frame like a suicide gone wrong. There’s a ringing in your ears as you debate whether or not to let him spar, and without realizing it, Jake steps in front of you. Glancing over at Heeseung, he nods, a look of challenge lighting up in his eyes. “Alright, you can go up against Heeseung. Just give them a few minutes.”

Ten minutes go by quickly and Heeseung is back in the ring along with the others. He’s quick to get into position, hands raised to the front of his face as he plants his feet firmly into the mat of the ring. K lines himself up across from Heeseung in a similar position, ready to start but you hold your hand out. “K, I want to know who you are before starting.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face as he keeps his eyes locked on Heeseung, “You’ll figure it out soon enough, sweetheart.” He taunts, and before you can press further, he lunges.

Heeseung doesn’t hesitate, sidestepping out of K’s trajectory at an almost inhumane speed. As K’s fist whistles past Heeseung’s face, he counters the attack with a right hook aimed towards K’s gut. It doesn’t work as K snaps his body around to catch Heeseung’s punch with an iron-like grip. Heeseung’s eyes widen momentarily but he recovers quickly as he twists his arm out, driving a knee into the taller boy’s stomach.

Again, K blocks the attack and with a violent twist, throws Heeseung to the edge of the ring that you’re standing at. You along with Jungwon, Niki, and Jake quickly separate to make room for Heeseung’s body before he slams against the rubber ropes, landing on the ground with a loud thud. He’s quick to recover, his vampiric speed allowing him to regain his composure within milliseconds. With a new anger raging through him, Heeseung bares his fangs at K as sweat drips down his temple.

K’s smirk never fades as he runs at Heeseung, his fist flying through the air as he closes in on him, but Heeseung dodges. A mirage of relentless punches and kicks are thrown at Heeseung, but he dodges each one by a hair. Quickly fatigued by the sporadic movement, K’s motions become slower and in a moment of weakness, Heeseung delivers a swift uppercut to K’s jaw followed by a sequence of jabs that are delivered with a savage intensity that only a vampire at full strength could display. The force of his blows sends blood gushing from K’s face, his features splitting open in an unattractive display.

K staggers back, suddenly caught off guard by the sheer force of Heeseung’s assault. In a heartbeat, the air shifts and K’s demeanor changes from that of a playfully oppressive gaze to one of a lethal intent. When Heeseung throws one more punch, K catches his fist in his palm mid-air and uses his momentum to slam him into the ground with a bone-cracking force, the impact knocking all of the wind out of Heeseung.

A guttural sound rips from Heeseung’s mouth when his back hits the pad, the impact leaving him clawing for air as you take a step forward out of instinct. Niki’s hand grips your shoulder and he pulls you back, holding you there firmly as he drops his hand down to your forearm. “You worthless vampire,” K whispers, a black tendril stretching out from K’s hand. When you see the shadows unfurl from K’s palm, your breath catches and you move to intervene right as Heeseung’s own red tendrils flare to life, his red eyes glowing with rage. He kicks under K’s hold, their shadows a mess of anger as they collide against each other.

“Enough!” you shout, cutting through the brutal stalemate they seem to be locked into.

K releases Heeseung from his hold, his sinister shadows immediately flowing back into his slender hands while Heeseung rolls away from under him, his chest heaving up and down. “What the hell was that?” you shout, fury boiling under the surface as you clench your fists.

K leans down to match your height, his gaze locking on yours as his eyes cloud over with a black haze, “I’m a necromancer.” He says, his voice dripping with challenge.

A snarl erupts from your throat, barely restrained by the thread of resolve you hold for yourself as you throw a deadly glare at K, “That doesn’t give you the fucking right to try and kill him during practice!” You accuse, the heaviness in your voice punctuated by the chilling tension in the air. You let out a long, shaky sight and rush over to reach for Heeseung, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” You murmur, trying to gauge his emotions.

He flinches under your touch, roughly pulling away from you before giving you a barely noticeable nod, lips held in a tight line as he refuses to meet your concerned gaze. You tongue your cheek with worry as you watch him slip out of the ring and head into the changing rooms, leaving you standing there in the middle of the ring while the rest of the boys pretend to not have watched the whole exchange. A complicated knot of guilt settles in your stomach as you think about what to do, torn between following after him and just staying put.

You’ve only known the boy for a day- barely enough time for you to feel entitled to his trust or to chase after him. In fact, you’ve only known the gym for a day- but there was something sharp that twisted inside of you after seeing him like that.

With a shaky sigh, you turn around but you’re caught off guard when you see Sunoo’s eyes wash over you, but his eyes are vacant, as if he’s looking right through you. His expression is dulled by a glassy sheen, holding a deeper understanding that you can’t quite grasp and it makes the knife in your stomach twist just that much more.

“I think we’re done for today,” You look back at K before slipping out of the ring, ““K, I don’t want to ever see you pulling that shit again.” The atmosphere is thick with hostility as you start to clean up, thick enough you could choke on it. Throwing a bloodied rag into a nearby laundry bin, you spot Yuqi entering the gym, her snake eyes narrowed on K.

You watch as she zips towards him in quick, determined strides. Within seconds, she’s face to face with K, thrusting her hand at his neck. She grabs onto his long neck with a vice-like grip, strangling him. With her serpent-like strength, she slams him into a nearby pillar, the impact echoing through the gym loud enough to have the boys flicking their heads up. K’s eyes widen in shock as he claws at her arm, his arrogant facade breaking as his back slides against the concrete pillar.

“If you ever hurt one of my patrons like that again, I will have you blacklisted from Dusk and Dawn in an instant,” she hisses, her forked tongue flicking out to spray a mist of black venom on his face. The effect is instant, liquid smoke curling up from his skin as the venom sizzles into his flesh, leaving red blisters on his face. She tightens her fingers around his throat for just a second before letting go, letting her threat hang in the air like old laundry.

When she leaves, your mouth hangs open in shock, “You’re catching flies.” Sunghoon says, nudging your chin closed.

You purse your lips, ignoring him as you clasp your hands in an attempt to regain some composure. “Alright…” you trail off, still reeling from the confrontation between Yuqi and K. “Before you guys leave, I’d like to have a one-on-one conversation with each of you. I’ll be over by the benches when you’re ready.”

Despite being able to feel the pounding of your own heartbeat in your damn throat, you stride over to where the benches are, forcing your steps to remain steady and confident. You refuse to show the boys any hints of fear or inferiority, not like the first day.

As you sit down on the benches, you notice Jake is the first one to approach, his presence commanding as ever when he enters your space. “Jake,” you say, patting the spot beside you.

He doesn’t move, rather adjusts the strap on his gym bag that’s slung over his shoulder as he continues to stand in front of you.

“You really should sit. This isn’t supposed to be a quick chat.” You respond, noticing his restraint. “I’m not asking.”

Sighing, he drops onto the bench, letting his bag fall to the floor with a loud thud. “Alright, what’d you need?”

Cutting straight to the point, you ask your first question, “Are you friends with all the boys?”

Jake lets out a deep laugh, his canines flashing at you when he does. “Really? That’s what you want to know?” You roll your eyes, smacking him. “Ok, well I guess you could say we’re all pretty tight. But Sunghoon, he’s a dick through and through, but I know him well enough. I’ve been at this gym for six years now?”

You’re not surprised to hear about his comments towards Sunghoon, his earlier bickering with him being evidence enough that they often butted heads. But your mind thinks back to the journal entry you read about Jake’s past, about his family being torn apart prior to coming here. You shift in your spot, choosing your words with careful precision. “I came across something while I was reading the old trainer’s journal. It said you had supernatural parents. That’s quite rare in Luxta, most of us are found and taken in by The Veil.”

Your question hangs in the air with unspoken emotion as Jake’s entire body tenses at the mention of his late parents, his laughter dying in his throat as he thinks of a response. “Well yeah, I’m a werewolf. We live in packs, but that’s all gone now.” His jaw clenches as the browns of his eyes darken into something deeper. At his sides, his fists repeatedly clench and unclench, his knuckles blanching with each movement. “It’s none of your damn business anyways. Are we done here?”

His voice drips with anger as he stands up, snatching his gym bag in one quick motion. He doesn’t wait for you to answer, instead curling his lips at you, a silent warning for you to stop talking. “Watch your fucking mouth, Y/n. You don’t know anything.” He says before walking off, shoulders tense and you swear you can almost smell the angry pheromones lingering in his absence.

“Don’t mind him, he tends to have extreme mood swings.” Jay says from behind. You turn around to face him, unintentionally letting him catch a glimpse of your sad eyes, mourning the ghost of his presence. His own gaze softens in response when he sees your reaction, and he finds himself fighting this flicker of empathy clawing its way up his throat. “You said you wanted to talk to us?” He says instead, sitting at a comfortable distance from you.

“Right, I just wanted to see how you guys get along, that sort of thing.” You clarify, pausing in order to let him fill in the gaps.

“Ah, I guess you could say I’m pretty close with everyone. Jungwon and I go way back though, I guess I took him under my wing in the community since neither of us were adopted.” He offers you a half-smile as he speaks, but you notice the way he rushes through the word ‘adopted’, as if it’ll hurt him if he lingers on the word too long.

“What was it like growing up in The Veil?”

“It sucked, but I��m not sure the alternative was any better,” he steals a glance at you to which you look down at the floor in a hurry, guilt eating away at you for being one of the few children that were ‘adopted.’ “We were in and out of shelters until we were 16, then Jungwon and I got housed together and then eventually, we were forced to find our own place once we turned 20.”

“And what about Sunghoon?”

“What about me?” That familiar wave of coldness shocks your nervous system and you freeze, feeling it work its way up your veins. Sunghoon’s voice cuts through the chilling temperature, and you steal a glance at the boy standing behind you, his eyes sending daggers into your back. “If you have something to say, say it to my face.”

Jay only laughs, finding the situation amusing. “I think that’s my cue to leave.” He stands up quickly, throwing Sunghoon a hesitant glance before parting.

You meet Sunghoon’s glare, a touch of guilt coursing through you as your core temperature continues to drop. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon,” You say, your voice evident with a mix of frustration and defeat. “Please, can you stop trying to give me hypothermia?”

Your pathetic apology seems to strike a chord in Sunghoon, and for a moment, his usually hard expression falls. Though as quickly as it falls, it tenses right back up as your body bounces back to its original temperature. “I didn’t mean to talk about you behind your back, I just want to know how I can support you.”

Sunghoon crosses his arms, offering you an unamused smile. “I don’t know why you’re so desperate to support me. You’re just a gym trainer.”

His words are like a slap to your face, and you flinch, feeling its harsh sting. He’s right- you’re just a trainer, hired to make sure they don’t kill each other and out themselves to the real world. You know you should keep your distance, but you can’t. That pull you felt yesterday when you met them all, it’s only grown stronger. You weren’t going to let Sunghoon’s attitude freeze you out, not if you could help it.

“Well unfortunately, that’s not up to you.” You counter. “So, can you explain to me why you feel the need to use your temperature manipulation so casually? Why do you choose not to control it around your friends?”

Sunghoon remains indifferent to your question, but you think a small part of him reacts to you saying the word ‘friend.’ “Cuts down on the amount of talking I need to do. Gets the message across that they’re pissing me off when I freeze them, and when they back off, I dial it back.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “And they’re not my friends.”

“Ok, except it doesn’t.” You challenge him, “This isn’t just some simple power where you can use negative reinforcement to condition other people’s behaviors. You can’t punish people into compliance, it’s not ethical.” You hang your head, trying to think of a way to speak to him like you aren’t talking down on him. “I would really appreciate it if you’d put in more effort on keeping it in check. I get it- in a world like this, we can’t trust anyone. But these boys care about you, so it’d be nice for you to reciprocate it.”

When you raise your head, you hold his gaze with your own and notice that the storm in his eyes has cleared. It reappears as quickly as it left, but you saw; his vulnerability melting away that frost and it makes you wonder if there were more layers underneath his cold indifference. It’s clear that this is about as much as Sunghoon is going to give you before he starts to snap at you, so you decide to hold back on prodding any further.

“Anyways, can you tell me if Heeseung is still around?”

“Heeseung should be out of the changing rooms by now,” Sunghoon says, standing up.

“Thanks,” you mutter, following his lead. When he disappears from your vision, you make your way over to the changing rooms, a tired drag in your step. “Heeseung?” You say into the tiled hallway, your voice bouncing off the walls- but no response. You wonder if he had already left, but you don’t recall ever seeing him leave, so you decide to wait a little longer, the quietness of the gym almost suffocating as time drags on.

As you lean against the concrete, you watch as the younger boys wave bye to you, smiling joyfully as they head out. The minutes pass by slowly and you’re almost worried that Heeseung slipped out without you noticing, you were really hoping to talk to him before the end of your shift. The weight of your concern had only grown heavier in his absence. When you’re about to push off the wall and leave, Heeseung emerges.

You almost forget the list of things you want to address with Heeseung by the time he comes out, but it slips your mind anyways when you see his eyes glowing an unnatural red. “Heeseung?”

“Move.” He snarls, baring his fangs at you. You notice his skin has turned into a pale white, drained of its energy as he pushes past you with an abrupt shove, practically forcing you into the wall but you catch yourself, grabbing him by the collar of his leather jacket.

“Don’t talk to me that way.” You snap, shoving him back.

“I’m not going to tell you again, Y/n. I said, move.” His voice carries the weight of a thousand suns as he stares hard into your eyes- and for a moment, you almost waiver, feeling a hypnotic force to obey his order. It’s strong, and it almost pains you to reject this invisible beckoning, but you have to. Despite his intense stare, you grit your teeth and clench your fists, ignoring the uncomfortable ache in your core.

Your eyes lock onto his, acutely aware of the bright orange hue that has now plagued your irises as you struggle to maintain control. “Heeseung…” You gasp just before he crashes his mouth against yours.

With his lips on yours, the grip on your throat falters and he moves his hands to clutch at the sides of your face while shoving his knee between your legs. His fangs plunge into your bottom lip, puncturing the soft tissue until a stream of blood flows down your chin. You groan into his mouth as he begins to suck on your lip, tasting the warmth of your blood with a savage intensity. His tongue draws up and down your chin, soaking up each drop of blood that pulses out of your lip all while grinding his knee into your core, picking up on the scent of your essence leaking out of your cunt. His tongue plunges into your mouth and you taste the iron of your own blood on your tongue. It’s disgusting really, but the desperation of his kisses has you weak and reeling for more. You can’t help but get off on the taste of your own blood seeping through his tongue.

Shock and arousal have you drunk on Heeseung, but you summon every once of strength in you to shove him off of you with the strength of a phoenix. He stumbles backwards, flying into the edge of one of the sinks. “What the fuck!” he shouts, his voice dripping with fury and hunger. Heeseung clutches at his side, the impact likely adding on to the bruises from earlier.

“What the hell, Heeseung!” You shout, panting as you reach your hand to your lips, a drop of blood staining the microscopic divots of your fingers.

“I told you to fucking move!” He shouts back, massaging his side.

Your mind races as you think back to his journal entry. Glowing red eyes, disturbed senses, compulsive what? You wrack your brain for the rest of his vampiric rage symptoms, but the adrenaline of it all has your mind scrambled of any rationality. What was it that you had to do when he became like this? You’re so busy caught up in your own mind that you don’t notice Heeseung approaching you again, each of his steps dripping with savage lust.

He reaches out a hand, grabbing your arm and with unnatural speed and force, he pulls you into him. Your body abruptly presses against his, and the unmistakable feeling of his cock presses against your hip. “Focus on me,” he growls, forcing your eyes on him, “Only me.” The glowing intensity of his eyes ensnares your mind like a trap, leaving you gasping for air. A surge of slick gushes out of your cunt, pooling at the seat of your panties and leaving you with a desperate ache in your core. There’s a striking need to keep your eyes locked on his, a primal urge to surrender yourself to him entirely as his glowing red eyes pierce the amber haze of your own- igniting a part of your heart that you didn’t realize was dormant.

In one swift motion, Heeseung rips apart your top and latches his mouth onto your nipple while his hands massage your ass, pulling you plush against him. “Damnit, Y/n,” he moans, his fangs digging into the flesh of your breasts. “Couldn’t fucking listen… Just had to get in my fucking way.” He pulls you in by the ass, grinding his cock against you as he sucks on your nipple, his fangs nipping at the delicate flesh. His hand slaps your ass harshly, the sound of his palm landing against your cheek echoing in the chambers of the locker room. The sting of his hand against your ass only sends another gush of slickness through you, earning a dark chuckle from Heeseung. “I can fucking smell how turned on you are. You like it when I slap you?”

Blinded by an overwhelming wave of lust, you throw your head back and comb your fingers through his hair, relishing in the way his tongue flicks over your bud. “Hee, m-more.” You beg, feeling the trickle of something wet fall from where he’s sucking.

You look down only to see a shiny line of red trailing down your bare stomach, staining your leggings next. Heeseung licks a stripe up your stomach, catching the flow of red onto his tongue, groaning in delight as the taste of your blood soaks into his taste buds. In one sudden movement, Heeseung hoists you up and moves you to the counter, ripping your leggings off along with your panties. You lay bare before him now, back pressed on the counter, but you don’t even care. Your body is on fire, every nerve of yours flaring like a wildfire. You feel so overwhelmed with the desire to fill your pussy with something, anything- that you’re clawing at the air. “Please- I need you.”

“Use that fucking mouth of yours, baby. What do you need?” You mewl out a response as Heeseung dives headfirst into your cunt, pressing a rough kiss on your heat. The warmth of his tongue against her bundle of nerves leaves you shaking, moans erupting from your throat. He practically growls as he slides his tongue between your folds, getting a taste of your sopping pussy. “So fucking wet, you like disobeying me?”

You don’t say anything, instead opting to cry out and moan as he continues his assault on your cunt. “I asked you a fucking question,” he demands, slapping a hand down on your pussy.

The slap sends shockwaves through your body, the sting of his hand only offering you brief stimulation. “N-no, Heeseung! I’ll be good!” You shout, dragging your hands through his hair to pull him towards you while you buck your hips up. He brings his face down to kiss at your pussy again, rocking up and down so his nose rubs against your clit while he eats away at your core. You let your eyes wander down to his face, catching the sultry stare he gives you as he flicks his tongue in and out of your entrance.

Eventually, Heeseung slides three fingers in at once, not bothering to prep you as he deems the amount of slick pooling on the counter enough. “Fuck!” You scream, feeling the stretch of your walls adjust to the girth of his fingers. He pumps his digits in and out of you at a savage pace, ghosting his lips over your thighs as he does.

“Keep screaming, baby. Let me hear you.” He moans, biting down on your thigh suddenly. You scream out, a mixture of pain and pleasure shooting through you when you feel his fangs piercing your skin once again. The sound of his lips sucking around the wound sends another gush of arousal out of your cunt and you can feel a warmth building up in your lower abdomen. He sucks vigorously on the wound, wrapping his arm around your other thigh and massaging it generously.

“H-Heeseung-” You whine, squirming in his hold. “I-I’m close!”

“Cum on my mouth, let me taste you,” he encourages, moving around your thighs to press more bites into. A particular spot, closer to your pelvis, is bitten and that’s all you need to let go, the coil releasing as your pussy begins to clench around Heeseung’s fingers indefinitely. “Fuck, good girl, Y/n.” He says, moving his mouth back to your pussy, lapping at your folds. He sucks on your bud, drinking up your arousal as pleasure washes through your body like a tsunami. “So sweet,”

You shudder under his touch as his tongue stays extra diligent in swirling around your clit while he finishes you off. “Turn around,” he demands, helping you slide off the counter.

You struggle to stand up, entirely relying on Heeseung as he presses you against the counter, your breasts rubbing against the coldness of the counter. Behind you, Heeseung shoves his jeans and briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free, the tip an angry red from his neglect. “Give me your hands,” he says, catching them in the air as you throw your arms back. “Good girl,” he coos.

With his one free hand, he flicks it forward and a red tendril forms, ghosting from his palm like liquid smoke. “You’re gonna be good for me, right?” he asks, smirking as the red wisps move to coil around your wrists like a makeshift handcuff.

You nod anxiously, tears pricking your eyes as the strain of your hands behind your back begins to pull on your muscles. “My good fucking girl.” He says before plunging his cock into your soaking pussy, immediately followed by the snap of his hips. You scream as his cock fills you up, the girth stretching you out all at once. With the coil of his tendrils holding your arms captive behind your back, he lets his hands wander to your hips until they’re bruising you, using them as leverage to piston his cock in and out of you.

You have no idea for how long he continues, but you know he goes long enough to fuck you through two more orgasms before he begins to slow down. When he does, he reaches forward to grab you by your throat, pulling you to his chest. His lips ghosts over your pulse point as he continues to snap his cock into your pussy, the drag of his cock having you reel with pleasure. “I can taste your fucking pulse,” he whispers, licking your neck. You shiver under his touch, the warmth of his breath causing you to unintentionally clench around his member. “Don’t fucking squeeze like that,”

“Heeseung, I- I’m gonna cum again,” you cry, biting your lip as you close your eyes, too tired to keep them open.

He stays silent as he drags his mouth further down your neck, puncturing a few more spots as he soaks up the red liquid quickly. “So sweet, you taste so good.” He snaps his hips into you even deeper than before, the tip of his cock brushing against your G-spot now.

“Hee,” you beg, focusing on the stretch of his cock. You open your eyes just in time to see a collection of red tendrils surrounding you, some crawling up your body and you suddenly become acutely aware of the ghostly feeling of them roaming your bruising skin. They tickle the fine hairs of your body, leaving you a shaking mess before Heeseung as he continues to ravage your pussy.

The added stimulation sends you over the edge and you’re coming for the fourth time, crying out as you wrap your walls around Heeseung’s member tightly. “Fuck, I’m coming Y/n!” Heeseung shouts, shoving his cock up to the hilt of your pelvis.

With a few more thrusts, he stills, allowing his cum to bury itself deep within your womb. Spurts of cum shoot into you at such a force you feel each rope hit your walls, clenching around him as his dick pulses inside of you. Heeseung lets go of you once he starts to soften, his rosy mist disappearing into thin air as you collapse onto the cold surface of the counter. Without warning, he slides out of you and you wince, listening to him zip himself back into his jeans.

Your body is still shaking from the aftermath of your release when you hear Heeseung’s footsteps echo out of the changing room. When it fades, you’re left alone and bare, laying against the cool surface of the counter. In the absence of his presence, a wave of clarity rushes through you, replacing any lingering heat you once had. You can’t help but let out a string or curse words as you fumble around to put your clothes back on, each movement a cold reminder of your impulsive endeavors, your muscles already feeling the dull ache.

As you pull your leggings on, you feel the unwelcome sensation of his cum slowly leaking down, slick and cold now. At this point, you’re too focused on getting home to care- letting it trickle down your thigh as you head back home into the rising daylight. When you finally reach the temporary sanctuary of your studio apartment, you reach for your journal first. Shadow manipulation, you write that besides the writer’s notes on Heeseung’s page before collapsing face-first onto your bed, letting sleep consume you immediately.

read part 2 here

Taglist: @heesimp, @kyunlov, @quill-ink, @lunaritex, @jiryunn, @jakeswifez, @fancypeacepersona, @nshmrarki, @ikaw-at-ikaw, @wilonevys, @strxwbloody, @capri-cuntz, @riribelle, @machambrx, @vousty, @rebeccakan

Permanent taglist: @kittys00, @ikaw-at-ikaw, @17ericas

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #ni-ki #niki #minnie #yuqi #k #enhypen supernatural #enhypen fightclub #enhypen smut #enha #enha x reader #blood on fire

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maewphoria · 2 months ago

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⌗⠀양정원⠀⠀CAT⠀DISTRIBUTION⠀SYSTEM⠀꒰⠀PT.4⠀꒱

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SYNOPSIS⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀starting college in a new city, you’re settling into your apartment and trying to make it feel like home. on your first day, a fluffy calico cat appears on your neighbor's balcony, jumping towards yours as if to greet you, stealing your heart instantly. but when a voice calls out for the cat from the next balcony, panic sets in—you rush back inside, too shy to meet your new neighbor. that neighbor turns out to be yang jungwon, a fellow student in the same university who’s also new in town. thanks to his mischievous and adventurous cat, the two of you keep running into each other in the most unexpected ways. a friendship blossoms, slowly turning into something deeper—though jungwon keeps insisting it’s nothing more than friendship. as feelings grow stronger, the question remains: will their bond turn into something more—or remain just a college memory?

pairing⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀college student!yang jungwon x college student!f.reader. featuring⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀all enhypen members, le sserafim yunjin, kazuha, and chaewon, aespa winter and karina (soon). word count⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀13.562k genre⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, kinda slow burn, college life, university life, slice of life, comedy (although i don't find myself funny), friendships, relationships, and the cat distribution system. (it has chosen you and gave you two lovely cats.) warnings⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀drinking alcohol, parties, getting drunk (obviously), misunderstandings, jealousy, denial (jungwon is in denial), cowardice behaviour (jungwon is also a coward), lots of flirting and tension, cat keeps breaking into your apartment, kissing, skinship, reader (aka us) is very delusional and does a lot of overthinking, a bit cringe (i think it's cringe bcs i wrote it), and might contain suggestive content in the later parts that are yet to be posted. lowercase letters intended. very proofread. tell me if i'm missing anything. mæw's notes⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀hi guys! pt.4 is finally out! please enjoy! i kinda had a hard time writing pt.4 because i don’t really know what it’s like to study at a university abroad. i had to do some research on schools like harvard and ucla, and i found out they have over 100 buildings—like wtf? so i ended up creating my own university from scratch, added courses, building names, and all that. i just hope it’s somewhat close to how it is in real life. likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated.

library⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀part one. part two. part three.

#⠀OO5⠀:⠀WRONG TURNS AND REGRETS.

it had been three weeks since the welcoming party for the architecture students—an event you had somehow, miraculously, survived despite being a business ad major who had absolutely no business being there in the first place. yet the mystery gnawed at you still: how, exactly, had you gotten home that night?

for days, you pestered your friends for answers, clinging onto the hope that someone, anyone, might remember. but their confusion only mirrored your own. none of them knew how they had returned either.

they had all woken up already sprawled in their own dormitory as if placed there by invisible hands.

yunjin and kazuha were tangled together in a half-conscious cuddle on the living room carpet, while chaewon had managed to claim the entirety of the sofa for herself, mouth slightly agape, a small snore escaping every few breaths.

their recollections aligned eerily with yours—except for the part where you woke up tucked neatly in your own room.

your cropped crochet open-knit bolero was gone from your shoulders, folded neatly atop your bedside table. left behind was just your black spaghetti strap crop top, the hem riding a little too high up your stomach because of how deep your sleep was, and your shoes and socks resting side by side on the floor.

the scene was unsettlingly familiar, like déjà vu reaching out and tapping you on the shoulder. it reminded you of that night, just two nights before, when jungwon had helped your drunken self wobble back home with both patience and grace.

perhaps, maybe, it was jungwon once again.

except—you hadn't properly spoken to him since that afternoon when he had helped you carry and move your furniture into your new apartment.

he hadn’t even messaged, save for that polite "you're welcome" he sent, replying to your thank you message the morning before the party, a message so brief yet so final it almost stung. you didn’t even know if he had attended the party.

you and your friends obsessed over the mystery for a few more days, exchanging theories that grew more ridiculous with each retelling, until eventually the puzzle pieces were abandoned, scattered into the corners of your minds. life simply moved on.

your days resumed their steady, predictable rhythm.

yami would occasionally grace your apartment with her presence, weaving between your legs and purring like she owned the place.

you also dedicated yourself to preparing for the impending start of classes, assembling supplies and adjusting to the small, adult routines of calling your parents, updating them on your well-being and pretending everything was under perfect control.

you often found yourself heading down to the lobby to collect yet another delivery or two—nothing screamed adulthood like ordering a random cat mug at 2am. you ran errands with your friends, laughing over the ridiculous list of essentials you somehow convinced yourselves were necessary for survival.

yet despite all the activity, one thing remained absent: jungwon.

not a glimpse. not even a fleeting shadow at the end of the corridor. despite living on the same floor, breathing the same recycled air of the building, he remained conspicuously missing.

you told yourself it was simply bad timing. maybe he was busy, after all, school was only a week away, and the looming pressure was starting to make even the calmest of students a little erratic.

yunjin, in particular, had turned into a delightful hurricane of stress, insisting she didn't have enough materials even as her arms overflowed with sketchbooks, pencils, and highlighters of every conceivable color.

you, chaewon, and kazuha simply watched her spin through the aisles of the school and art supplies store, your expressions a perfect blend of concern and secondhand embarrassment.

"she must be excited," the three of you thought in unison, exchanging knowing glances as yunjin bolted toward yet another aisle like a woman possessed, clutching a sixth sketchpad to her chest.

the last week of the month slipped through your fingers like water, and before you could truly brace yourself, it was already the morning of your first day, orientation and tour day.

now you stood frozen in front of your closet, eyes darting from hanger to hanger, as if the right outfit might magically materialize if you stared long enough.

nerves twisted in your stomach.

you were nervous—nervous that you might get lost on campus despite yunjin thoughtfully printing out campus maps for all of you, highlighting routes and buildings like a seasoned tour guide.

nervous that you might embarrass yourself, trip over nothing, mispronounce a professor’s name, or somehow make such a terrible first impression that your professors would loathe you on sight (spoiler: they wouldn’t).

but above all else, you were nervous because, even though your friends were attending the same university, they were scattered across different programs and faculties. for the first time in one month, you were truly on your own.

after what felt like an eternity of agonizing, you finally chose your outfit—something comfortable yet respectable—and swiftly packed your tote bag with every essential you could think of: a notebook, a pen, your wallet, a mini hand sanitizer, a spare charger, tissues, your mini make up bag, and a quiet hope that you wouldn’t cry in public.

you quickly ran a brush through your hair, trying to tame the chaos, then hurried out of your apartment, juggling the strap of your bag over your shoulder as you half-sprinted toward the elevators.

as you rounded the corner, a familiar figure came into view—jungwon.

your heart skipped a beat, a flash of relief blooming in your chest. instinctively, you called out to him, voice light with the kind of casual friendliness you reserved for someone you were hoping to bump into.

he looked up, his eyes locking onto yours—and for a split second, something unreadable flickered across his face.

but then, just as you reached out your hand as if to tell him to stop the elevator doors from closing. despite seeing you, jungwon did the unthinkable.

he let the elevator doors close.

right. in. front. of. you.

you stood there, blinking at the now shut metallic doors, your hand still slightly raised in midair, feeling like you had just been personally victimized by the universe.

“what the fuck was that about?” you muttered under your breath, pressing the elevator button with a bit more force than necessary, your mind racing through every possible explanation, none of which made any sense.

meanwhile, inside the descending elevator, jungwon was a whirlwind of self-inflicted misery.

he leaned his forehead against the cool metal wall, lightly banging it once, twice, before dragging his hand through his hair in pure frustration.

“fuck,” he hissed to no one in particular.

he could still see it—the exact expression you had given him through the narrowing gap of the doors. you had looked so... betrayed. and annoyed.

so wonderfully, vividly pretty despite the negative emotions plastered on your face.

this was the first time he had ever seen you wear that expression, and somehow, it managed to stab him right in the chest despite only knowing you for a month.

he wished he could rewind time, shove his foot between the doors and do anything but what he had just done. but deep down, he knew that even if he had stopped the doors, the air between you would have been thick with something worse than awkwardness.

because the truth was, jungwon had been avoiding you. deliberately.

and the worst part? you didn’t even know why.

technically, you had done something. but you were so devastatingly drunk that night, you couldn’t possibly remember it—and jungwon wasn’t planning on telling you, not now, not ever.

not if he could help it.

he let out a heavy sigh, a sound full of regret, and stepped out of the elevator, shoulders slightly hunched as if he could physically shrink away from the guilt clinging to him. he barely made it out of the apartment building when a voice cut sharply through the air, halting him in his tracks.

“jungwon!”

he gasped audibly, body stiffening like a startled cat. he knew that voice—knew it down to the very marrow of his bones.

he didn’t want to turn around. every instinct screamed at him to keep walking, to pretend he hadn’t heard. but guilt is a heavy thing, and it anchored his feet to the ground.

reluctantly, jungwon turned.

and instantly wished he hadn’t.

there you were, standing not far from him, brows knitted together in pure exasperation, confusion swirling in your eyes, and—worst of all—a tiny glint of hurt buried beneath it all.

he felt the ground tilt beneath him.

“h-hey, y/n…” he stammered, voice pitching higher than he intended, forcing an awkward chuckle out in a weak attempt to appear casual.

you raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow, the kind of expression that could slice a man’s ego clean in half. then, with deliberate steps, you closed the distance between you.

jungwon froze again, practically forgetting how to breathe as you stopped right in front of him, arms folding across your chest in a perfect display of judgment.

“earlier. at the elevator,” you said, your tone flat, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “what the hell was that about?”

your bluntness struck him like a slap, and he scrambled internally for an answer that would save him. his eyes darted everywhere—from the pavement to a passing bird to an invisible point in the sky—anywhere but your face.

for a brief moment, his brain offered him nothing but static. then, like a merciful flick of fate, an idea sparked.

“i—i misjudged!” he blurted out, straightening up a little, trying to sound convincing. “i thought you weren’t going to make it to the elevator in time!”

he mentally patted himself on the back for that one, almost proud of the quick recovery.

but you weren’t buying it.

you narrowed your eyes at him, your frown deepening. “i could’ve made it. easily. if you hadn’t just stood there like a damn npc and let the doors close.”

jungwon winced, the truth of your words hitting harder than he cared to admit.

“oh… right,” he muttered, suddenly finding the cracks on the sidewalk incredibly interesting. he shuffled his feet, searching desperately for an escape hatch, but it was obvious—he was trapped. there would be no running from this confrontation.

so, he went for the simplest, oldest trick in the book: sincerity (and his looks).

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he said, lifting his head to meet your gaze with the most devastatingly apologetic look he could summon. his big, round eyes practically screamed forgiveness, the corners of his lips tugging down in a perfect portrait of remorse.

and it worked. he saw it—the moment your defenses cracked, a twitch of a smile betraying you.

jungwon seized his opportunity like a man who had been offered a pardon.

“then—goodbye, y/n! see you around!” he chirped brightly, spinning on his heel and sprinting away like a guilty cartoon character.

you blinked, stunned into silence, watching his retreating figure with growing disbelief. it took your brain several long, painful seconds to reboot, short-circuiting somewhere between ‘he looks so cute!’ and ‘wait, did he just run away?’

“hey! wait, we’re going in the same direction!” you called out, but it was too late. jungwon was already halfway down the street, pretending not to hear you.

you stood there, blinking dumbly after him, utterly bewildered by what had just transpired.

you exhaled through your nose, trying to calm your nerves, and pulled out your phone with a resigned sigh. you booked yourself an uber—because clearly, walking in the same direction as jungwon was not on today's agenda.

as if sensing your gaze still somewhere near him, jungwon abruptly veered off to another street, almost comically dramatic with the way he ducked his head and hurried his steps, clearly trying to escape your line of sight.

pathetic. dramatic. suspiciously fast. definitely guilty.

meanwhile, in his small spiral of panic, jungwon fumbled with his phone, his thumbs moving in a frenzy as he typed out a message to riki.

jungwon: where r u. pick me up. now.

but before he could even finish cursing under his breath, riki’s familiar car came to a stop right in front of him, its timing almost poetic.

the passenger-side window rolled down with a mechanical hum, revealing sunoo, who stared at him with an expression that perfectly blended confusion and secondhand embarrassment.

“yo, you look like you just got chased by a ghost,” sunoo said flatly, squinting at jungwon’s slightly sweaty forehead and thoroughly ruffled hair. “or, like, karma.”

jungwon rolled his eyes with a dramatic groan, not even trying to explain himself as he yanked open the back door.

“long story,” he muttered, flopping into the seat like a man who had just survived a war—an emotional war, perhaps, but a war nonetheless.

riki, in the driver's seat and already smirking, glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “good. we’ve got time,” he quipped, clearly eager for some tea.

jungwon waved a hand weakly in the air, “just drive,” he muttered. “we’ll be late.”

riki turned to sunoo with a knowing look. sunoo shrugged, as if to say ‘don’t look at me’, and riki shrugged right back. without further protest, he shifted gears and pulled out of the street, the car humming softly as they began the drive to campus.

jungwon leaned his head back against the seat, shutting his eyes. he could still see your face—your expression when you caught him ditching you at the elevator, the betrayal in your eyes, the sheer ‘what the hell’ radiating off you like heat.

and worse, he could still hear the echo of your voice: “we’re going in the same direction!”

tragically… you were right.

you, on the other hand, had already slipped into the back seat of your uber, the cool leather offering a small comfort as the city passed by in a blur. the ride was quiet—your driver occasionally humming along to the radio while you stared out the window, half-lost in your thoughts. within minutes, the car pulled up to your destination.

there it was. your university. grand horizon university. standing tall and proud, like an academic kingdom with gates flung wide open, welcoming—and slightly overwhelming—its new citizens.

students swarmed the entrance like ants on a sugar cube. some were poring over crumpled maps with puzzled brows, others paced in small circles while mumbling to themselves. a few brave souls had resorted to asking complete strangers where to go, and many had approached the campus security guards like weary travelers begging for directions to the nearest oasis.

you reached into your tote, pulled out your phone, and snapped a quick photo of the chaos—a little memento of your first day. the picture captured the mix of excitement and confusion around you, and you sent it to your group chat with a quick message:

you: i’ve arrived. front gate. help before i disappear into the crowd.

you were just about to scroll idly when you felt a sudden presence behind you—followed by familiar squeals and arms flinging around your shoulders.

“boo!” yunjin’s voice rang in your ear, immediately followed by kazuha and chaewon joining in on the ambush, their smiles wide, their energy contagious.

you spun around, pretending to scowl but unable to stop the grin tugging at your lips. you hugged them all back, your nerves easing just a little with the comfort of familiar faces.

“you could’ve warned me,” you muttered with faux irritation, brushing your hair back.

“where’s the fun in that?” kazuha smirked.

together, the four of you started walking toward the main entrance towards the main building in the middle of the university, your chatter bouncing lightly between you, an easy mix of nervous laughter and unfiltered panic.

“okay but like... are we ready?” chaewon asked, adjusting her strap bag anxiously.

“mentally? no. emotionally? also no. physically? barely.” yunjin replied, flailing her arms dramatically. “but spiritually? absolutely not.”

you all laughed, and for a moment, the tension melted. but as soon as the university doors opened, the noise hit you like a wave.

inside was just as chaotic—if not worse—than outside. students were huddled around bulletin boards, craning their necks and squinting as they tried to decipher lists of names, classroom codes, building numbers and names, and professor names that sounded made-up.

you weaved through the crowd with your friends and finally found your schedules, each of you staring on your copies of the campus map.

and then came the collective groan.

“ugh! why does this university have to look like a whole freaking village?” yunjin cried, clutching her map like it had betrayed her.

“tell me about it,” kazuha added, staring at her map like it might rearrange the buildings if she blinked hard enough. “i swear, i’m about to rent an electric scooter. or a horse.”

“why,” you said slowly, squinting at the map, “does this university have two hundred and thirty buildings?”

they both turned to pat your shoulders in silent solidarity, as if sharing the same academic tragedy. you sighed dramatically, already feeling the weight of your future footsteps.

you all then looked at chaewon, silently praying she had it just as bad.

she glanced at her schedule and gave a sheepish shrug. “mine’s kinda near... but also not? like, it’s not far-far but it’s not close either.”

you, yunjin, and kazuha groaned in unison before rolling your eyes and playfully turning your backs on her, walking away as if she had betrayed the sisterhood.

“rude!” chaewon called after you three with a laugh, instantly chasing after you with quick steps, and soon enough, you were all walking again, side by side, navigating the labyrinth together.

“good thing we only have orientations and campus tours today. if we had actual classes right now, we’d probably be buried under a pile of wrong turns and regrets,” you said, half-laughing as you glanced down at your phone.

you tapped a quick message to your parents—‘i made it to school safely’—along with a photo of the university gate for good measure. your mom had already sent three heart emojis and a good luck gif. classic.

with that done, you turned your attention back to the ever-confusing campus map that you folded and tucked between your fingers, just behind your phone earlier.

“okay, so right now we’re at aurora hall,” you began, squinting at the tiny lines and icons. “and i need to get to the south part of campus.”

your words caught everyone’s attention. three heads immediately leaned over your shoulder, eyes narrowing like detectives over a case file.

“wait—you’re going to the south campus too?” yunjin asked, pointing at the lower quadrant of your map. “what building?”

you tilted your map toward her while pointing at the building. “the vanguard business hall. apparently that’s the main building for business admin majors.”

as soon as the words left your mouth, the excitement erupted.

“no way, i’m headed there too!” yunjin gasped, then quickly clarified. “well, not there—i’ve got architecture at arcadia studios, but it’s in the same area.”

“me too,” kazuha chimed in, flashing a grin. “grand horizon performing arts center. sounds dramatic. fitting, right?”

chaewon raised her hand like she was in class. “silver screen studios for film and tv. also south campus.”

and just like that, a burst of collective relief washed over the group. you all let out a synchronized squeal, followed by a group hug that was slightly chaotic and entirely uncoordinated. still, it felt good—like the universe had decided to bless you today.

at least for the trip to south campus, you wouldn't be alone.

“okay, transportation,” chaewon said, already back in planner mode. “should we rent e-bikes or ride the shuttle buses?”

you all looked down at the map again, tracing little lines between buildings, searching for the nearest shuttle stops and rental stations.

“e-bikes sound cute in theory,” yunjin mused, “but we’d probably end up somewhere in a forbidden faculty zone and get expelled before day two.”

“true,” you said, nodding. “let’s not risk accidental trespassing just yet.”

the group collectively agreed: shuttle bus it was.soon enough, you were all sprinting through the university corridors like you were in a slice-of-life anime opening sequence. wind in your hair, laughter echoing behind you, dodging slow walkers like pros, and somehow managing to arrive at the shuttle bus station just in time.

the vehicle hissed to a halt as students boarded one by one, and the four of you squeezed into the middle row, still catching your breath and trying to act like you weren’t about to melt from the sprint.

as the bus rolled forward, it passed through winding lanes, landscaped gardens, and sleek buildings that shimmered beneath the sun. the driver, with a calm voice and an obvious love for punctuality, announced each stop clearly through the overhead speaker:

“silver screen studios.”

“grand horizon performing arts center.”

“arcadia studios.”

one by one, your friends got off. chaewon first, waving enthusiastically. then kazuha, who gave a little spin before hopping off, dramatically clutching her schedule like a script. yunjin followed next, shooting you a thumbs up as if to say ‘you’ve got this’.

and finally, it was your turn.you stood, your tote slung over your shoulder, and stepped off with the others headed toward the vanguard business hall—a part of the sprawling college of business and management complex.

as your shoes hit the pavement, you took a deep breath. this was it. your first real step into university life.

then, you looked up at the towering structure before you, your breath hitching slightly in awe.

the vanguard business hall stood like a monument to ambition—ten stories high, cloaked in sleek panels of silver and glass that shimmered beneath the morning light. its clean lines and polished finish gave it the kind of sharp sophistication that whispered, ‘only the bold survive here’. it was the kind of building that didn’t just exist—it announced itself.

for a moment, you stood at the base of it, tilting your head all the way back just to take it in, as if you were trying to absorb some of its power through sheer admiration. you could almost hear it taunting you, daring you to prove you belonged here.

you exhaled softly and squared your shoulders, adjusting the strap of your bag as if it might suddenly make you feel more grown-up, more prepared.

then you quietly muttered under your breath, a little pep talk to yourself, “okay... good luck, me.”

and with that final whisper of hope and bravado, you stepped forward and pushed open the glass doors—walking into the future with all the courage, curiosity, and slightly faked confidence you could muster.

just a few minutes earlier, jungwon and his friends had found themselves in a strikingly similar situation as you and your group—equally disoriented, equally overwhelmed, and just as hilariously unprepared for the sheer sprawl of campus life.

the five of them had huddled around a map, each trying to decipher the labyrinth of buildings, shuttles, and cryptic acronyms like they were decoding ancient hieroglyphs. eventually, the group had to split, though not without groaning dramatically about the injustice of parting ways on their very first day.

jake and sunghoon, after much squinting and turning the map sideways for no apparent reason, had discovered they both needed to head north.

jake was assigned to the science complex—ominously named the helix research center—while sunghoon had to make his way to the monolithic fusion engineering complex, which honestly sounded more like a boss level in a video game than a school building.

meanwhile, jungwon, riki, and sunoo were bound for the south campus. jungwon had orientation at the arcadia studios—the heart of the architecture department. riki was heading to the grand horizon performing arts center, while sunoo was off to the silver screen studios, home to film and tv production students (and future dramatic monologues, no doubt).

the farewell was brief but not without flair. sunghoon and jake darted off to their own shuttle station with mock salutes and promises not to get lost or abducted by rogue professors. the remaining three made their way to the same shuttle bus station you and your friends had used earlier.

though fate had kept your paths from crossing that morning, something about the moment had tugged at jungwon—a peculiar sense of déjà vu, or maybe just the faintest echo of your voice from that first conversation you ever had. it hovered somewhere in the back of his mind, stubbornly refusing to take shape.

the shuttle ride was short, efficient, and surprisingly smooth and now, jungwon stood before the arcadia studios.

he didn’t enter right away.

instead, he lingered at the edge of the building’s shadow, tilting his head back to fully absorb the sight before him. the arcadia studios were a brutalist marvel—raw, unapologetic concrete rising like a fortress. but the roughness was softened by its tiers of lush greenery, terraces overflowing with vibrant plants that draped down the façade like ivy at an ancient castle. it was both cold and alive, severe yet poetic.

in his eyes, it wasn’t just a building.

it was a declaration. a promise that creativity didn’t have to be polished to be profound. and for jungwon, a budding architect with dreams too big for his own good, it was love at first sight.

he smiled softly to himself, the earlier tension melting away just a little. then, with one last breath of courage, he stepped through the wide doors and disappeared inside.

once everyone had disappeared into their respective buildings, the real whirlwind began.

orientations were in full swing. professors, sharp-dressed and bright-eyed (well, most of them), made their introductions—some warm and charismatic, others slightly robotic, as if they’d already rehearsed their welcome speeches one too many times over the years.

after a short talk, students were nudged into groups of ten for the ever-dreaded yet unavoidable “get-to-know-you” icebreakers.

each person took turns standing up, voice wavering or booming with overconfidence, depending on their personality. they shared their names, the courses they’d chosen, and why they had enrolled at grand horizon university.

the stories were a mix of heartfelt dreams, practical decisions, and the occasional joke that drew scattered chuckles. one guy said he only came here because the food in the cafeteria was ranked top ten in a blog he trusted religiously. no one knew if he was serious. he probably was.

some students spoke with ease, others visibly battled secondhand embarrassment for their peers, and a few simply tried to survive the social gauntlet without spontaneously combusting. it was a chaos of charm and awkwardness.

once the introductions settled down, the next phase began: the grand tour.

sleek shuttle buses lined up like in front of the buildings, waiting to tour the new students around the southern half of the campus. professors climbed aboard alongside their groups, and designated student guides took to the front, bright smiles plastered on as they reached for the intercoms.

the tour was fairly straightforward—an overview of each building as they passed, the guide pointing out massive lecture halls, pristine laboratories, sunlit studios, and confusingly named complexes.

each announcement was followed by students craning their necks to look out windows, snapping quick photos or scribbling down building names as if they'd remember which was which by tomorrow. they wouldn’t. no one ever does.

on your side of things, the tour had turned unexpectedly delightful. two students sitting near you had sparked up a conversation, and before you knew it, laughter flowed easily among you. you talked about your majors, your expectations, the panic of navigating an unfamiliar campus, and which professors looked like they've already prepared our downfall for fun.

your nerves slowly melted away into genuine enjoyment. there was something comforting about realizing everyone else was just as lost and excited as you were.

meanwhile, on another shuttle just a few buildings away, jungwon sat stiffly in his seat, listening to the tour guide’s voice drift through the bus. he nodded now and then, more out of politeness than curiosity, but his thoughts were elsewhere—spiraling.

something was gnawing at the edges of his mind. he couldn't shake that strange pull, the feeling that he'd forgotten something important. something—or someone.

then, as if fate had impeccable comedic timing, he turned his head toward the window.

and there you were.

riding a shuttle labeled ‘college of business and management complex’. chatting animatedly with the people beside you, smiling in that way that made things feel lighter.

his eyes widened as it hit him all at once.

bsba hrm. that’s what you said when you first met. that's your major. and now, here you were, in the south campus—his campus. so much for thinking he could spend the day dodging any accidental reunions. the universe had other plans.

“oh, i am so screwed,” he muttered under his breath, dragging out his map and promptly holding it up like a newspaper in a spy movie, trying to block his face from view even though you were clearly far too engrossed in your conversation to notice him. still, he wasn’t taking any chances.

he slumped deeper into his seat, sighing into his collar. maybe if he wished hard enough, he’d turn invisible. or teleport. either option sounded appealing.

once the orientation and tours wrapped up, you were quick to text your friends, fingers flying across the keyboard as you asked if they were finished and where they wanted to meet.

the replies came fast—chaewon, kazuha, and yunjin had wrapped up too, and without much debate, you all agreed on a place: the design & arts café tucked near the college of architecture, design, and planning.

it was quaint, cozy, and boasted drinks with pretentious names like “aesthetic matcha fog” and “monochrome americano.” you loved it.

coincidentally—though destiny might argue otherwise—jungwon, riki, and sunoo had just finished their own orientations and had exactly the same idea.

“design & arts café?” sunoo asked, scrolling through his phone.

“sounds good,” jungwon mumbled distractedly, still recovering from the earlier heart attack.

and so, completely unaware of each other’s plans, both groups set off toward the same charming café… one for coffee and comfort, and the other, unknowingly, toward a collision course with chaos—or maybe just an awkward reunion.

the four of you arrived at the café first, fortunate enough to beat the incoming tide of students that soon began trickling in, like drops before a storm. the design & arts café, with its warm amber lighting and soft hum of lo-fi music, was already halfway to overflowing.

its charm lay in the deliberate mess of creativity—sketches and prints hung on the walls, mismatched chairs that somehow worked together, and menus handwritten in chalk that made even the simplest drinks sound like a masterpiece.

yunjin and chaewon, ever the designated errand duo, volunteered to place everyone's orders, slipping away toward the counter with practiced ease. meanwhile, you and kazuha remained at the table, guarding everybody’s bags and phones, nestled in the quiet lull before the café reached peak chaos.

“good thing we got here earlier,” kazuha remarked, eyes drifting toward the growing line that now curved around the entrance.

you nodded, grateful for the lucky timing. while waiting, you and kazuha exchanged stories about your respective orientations and campus tours, comparing professors, the energy of your groupmates, and the many moments of near-miscommunication that left everyone either giggling or sweating.

just as you were imitating the overly dramatic voice of your tour guide, yunjin and chaewon returned, trays in hand and cheeks flushed from the heat and noise of the café.

“they said the food might take ten to fifteen minutes,” yunjin announced as she plopped down beside kazuha, setting the drinks on the table with theatrical flair.

chaewon took the spot next to you, carefully distributing napkins, straws, and drinks before handing the empty tray to a passing waiter. “thank you!” the four of you chimed in chorus.

“what were you guys chatting about?” chaewon asked, leaning slightly closer, curiosity evident in her eyes.

“just our orientations and the tour,” you replied, already sipping from your drink, the coldness cutting through the lingering warmth in the air.

“were they fun?” yunjin raised a brow, stirring her iced latte lazily.

you all nodded enthusiastically, breaking into a rapid-fire exchange of stories—mock reenactments, dramatic gasps, and exaggerated impressions of professors who clearly didn’t know how to use microphones.

laughter filled your little corner of the café, wrapping around you like a comforter. and then kazuha suddenly paused mid-laugh, eyes lighting up as if a forgotten memory had just barged its way back into her consciousness.

“oh right!” she said, waving her hand to corral everyone's attention. “something happened earlier.”

you looked up from your cheeseburger croissant, mid-bite. “what happened?”

kazuha leaned in a little, her tone dropping as if she were about to share a scandalous secret. “this guy came up to me and said he knew me—like, knew us. he asked what happened after the welcome party, when he helped us three back to our dorm.”

chaewon’s eyes widened in recognition. she gasped, slapped a hand over her mouth, then quickly chewed and swallowed whatever she'd been munching on before blurting out, “wait! the exact same thing happened to me!”

the table fell quiet in suspense as chaewon leaned in. “a cute guy—super polite—walked up and asked the same thing!”

“cute?” yunjin perked up, clearly invested now. “did they say their names?”

kazuha squinted in thought. “he said his name was… riki? or maybe kiki? something like that. honestly, i’m bad with names.”

chaewon giggled, nodding in solidarity. “mine said something like… sunoo? or soonoo? i think? he had great skin though.”

you blinked. “you guys are hopeless.”

kazuha, unfazed, twirled her fork through her carbonara. “i asked him how he even knew about us and he just smiled and said, ‘a friend of ours is a friend of yours.’ like—hello? what does that even mean?”

“that sounds like the start of a treasure hunt,” yunjin muttered, eyes narrowed. “or a mafia movie.”

you all laughed, tossing out theories as if you were detectives in a teen mystery drama. maybe they were undercover students. maybe it was a dare. maybe one of them was a secret admirer pulling the strings behind the scenes.

what none of you realized, however, was that not far from your table, just past the display case of pastries and behind a pair of oblivious art majors discussing something color related, stood jungwon, sunoo, and riki—utterly unaware of the conversation unfolding about them.

while riki and sunoo bickered over the menu—sunoo insisting on the blueberry muse tea, while riki claimed it sounded like a shampoo—jungwon stood a little apart, tuning out the noise of their playful quarrel.

the café was now a full-blown frenzy, packed with chattering students, baristas calling out names over the whirr of machines, and the occasional chair scrape that made everyone flinch for no reason at all.

jungwon sighed softly, the way someone does when they’ve just realized they're the only sane one in the group. he turned around, neck craning slightly as he scanned the room in search of an empty table. a small miracle: tucked near the corner, almost hidden, was a table clearly meant for four—but with one chair missing. three chairs. three of them. perfect.

just as he opened his mouth to share the discovery with the others, his words caught in his throat.

at the edge of his vision��soft, golden, unmistakably familiar—was you.

you were sitting with your friends, smile wide, laughter lighting up your features in a way that made the café’s dim lighting seem brighter for a second. jungwon froze. the kind of stillness that only happens when something—or someone—unexpected reappears.

he hadn’t even realized he'd stopped moving until a light tap on his shoulder brought him back to earth.

“jungwon, you okay?” sunoo asked, eyebrows raised in concern before following jungwon’s line of sight. and then, he smiled. “oh, is that chaewon? i think that’s chaewon.”

sunoo tried waving a little in her direction, although chaewon didn’t notice—too absorbed in peeling the lid off her drink. jungwon blinked rapidly and looked away, but not before sunoo had seen enough to realize this wasn’t about chaewon, it was about the girl sitting beside her.

“what are you two doing?” riki called out from the front, motioning to them to move up in the line. “we’re holding people up.”

“we saw someone we know,” sunoo explained as he fell in beside riki. “chaewon’s here, in the café. she’s in my major too.”

“oh yeah,” riki said, recognition dawning. “i think i met one of her friends too—kazuha, i think? she’s also in performing arts.”

they shuffled forward in line, but jungwon lingered behind, staring at the floor like it had just whispered his deepest secret aloud.

“guys,” jungwon said, voice low, “can we… maybe go to a different café?”

sunoo and riki turned to him, nearly in unison. “huh? why?”

“i mean,” he started, a little too quickly, “i just thought maybe we could eat near the north campus instead? maybe link up with sunghoon and jake? it might be less crowded too.”

riki and sunoo exchanged a look—half confusion, half telepathic best friend conversation. they could see it: the slight panic in jungwon’s eyes, the nervous clench of his jaw. something was up.

but they didn’t press.

“sure, man,” riki said with a shrug, stepping out of the line as if they hadn’t just spent fifteen minutes arguing over drinks.

sunoo smiled gently, falling in behind him. “that’s a great idea, actually. i’ll text sunghoon—see where they’re eating.”

jungwon exhaled, the relief immediate and visible in his shoulders. he trailed after them, grateful, fingers twitching with the anxious energy he hadn't managed to shake off since seeing you.

as they exited the café, the soft ding of the doorbell signaling their departure, jungwon allowed himself one last glance over his shoulder.

you were still there, surrounded by laughter, unaware of the ripple you’d sent through him.

he looked away and sighed, the sound quiet but heavy, and walked out into the sunlit afternoon, where his friends were already waiting.

as soon as they received the location from sunghoon and jake, the three made their way to the stem fuel stop, a modern, industrial-style café nestled just outside the college of science and mathematics complex.

the walls were covered in chalkboard doodles and formulas no one actually read, while the smell of roasted coffee beans and sizzling fries hung comfortably in the air.

they walked in, instantly greeted by jake’s enthusiastic wave from across the room. he was already seated at a corner table, mid-bite, with a tray of fries between him and sunghoon, who looked up from his phone looking like he just aged five academic years.

“there you guys are,” jake grinned, mouth half-full, before popping another fry into his mouth.

sunghoon gave them a small nod, setting his phone down slowly, eyes shifting to jungwon, who hadn’t said a word since entering.

they took their seats—sunoo on one end, riki beside him, and jungwon in the middle, visibly tense. sunoo and riki exchanged a glance before both quietly turned their attention to jungwon, brows slightly raised.

“so… what gives?” jake asked, licking salt off his fingers. “thought you were all eating at the design & arts café?”

“we were supposed to,” riki replied casually, reaching for a fry. “but it was already packed when we got there, and jungwon suggested we head here instead.”

his voice was nonchalant, but the way he tilted his head toward jungwon didn’t go unnoticed. jake and sunghoon caught it immediately, their gazes now fixed on the boy in question.

“okay,” sunoo began, arms crossed, leaning in a little. “jungwon. spill.”

jungwon let out a sigh so deep, it seemed to come from the soles of his feet. he closed his eyes briefly, then opened them to meet four sets of expectant eyes. and so, with the weight of an overly dramatic confession pressing on his chest, he told them everything.

he began with that night—the aftermath of the architecture welcoming party. how he’d offered to take you back to your apartment, just trying to be polite and helpful. everything was fine... until it wasn’t.

“i swear, she just stopped in the kitchen,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “and then she cupped my cheeks. my actual face.”

riki choked on a sip of soda. “no way—”

“yes way,” jungwon groaned. “and before i could even process what was happening, she just—started kissing me. on the face. like how she kissed my cat. repeatedly. with affection. so much affection.”

sunghoon blinked. “you got yami’d.”

“i got ambushed,” jungwon clarified, looking pained. “i didn’t even have time to run.”

his friends looked equally horrified and amused, already piecing the chaos together.

he went on to explain that ever since that night, he'd tried to maintain distance—create space. but you always showed up. in places he least expected. like some kind of charming poltergeist with perfect comedic timing.

then came this morning’s catastrophe.

“remember earlier,” he added, shifting uncomfortably, “when you caught me hiding behind a wall just a street away from my apartment building looking like i saw a ghost?”

sunoo nodded slowly. “we thought you were being dramatic.”

“yeah, well, the ghost was her.”

the table burst into quiet laughter, and jungwon rolled his eyes before continuing.

“i just stepped into the elevator,” jungwon said, leaning forward with an exasperated whisper, “and then she just—turned the corner. like it was a horror movie. i panicked. froze. and let the elevator doors close right in front of her.”

the entire table groaned in unison, hands flying up as if trying to physically catch the level of secondhand embarrassment in the air.

“oh my god, you didn’t,” sunoo winced, clutching his chest.

“i did,” jungwon sighed, defeated. “and of course, she was already behind me before i could go outside the building. called my name. asked me what just happened. i panicked again and said—” he paused, covering his face. “the most ridiculous excuse ever.”

“what did you say?” jake asked, eyes wide.

“i said ‘i misjudged! i thought you weren’t going to make it to the elevator in time!’” he said and groaned.

they all stared at him before groaning, basically saying ‘what the hell man?’

“i know!” jungwon snapped. “and she called me out immediately. saying, ‘i could’ve made it. easily. if you hadn’t just stood there like a damn npc and let the doors close.’”

sunghoon shook his head, biting back a smile. “and then?”

“i did what any respectable man would do,” jungwon mumbled. “i gave her the puppy eyes. apologized. and then ran the second i saw her hesitate.”

a silence fell over the table.

then: laughter. loud, unforgiving laughter.

jake slapped the table. sunoo buried his face in his hands. riki leaned back like he was about to fall off his chair, while sunghoon just shook his head, muttering something about how this was better than any tv show.

“okay, but real talk,” sunoo said once the laughter settled. “don’t you think it’s a bit unfair? you’re avoiding her like she did something wrong, but she has no idea what that is.”

the others nodded slowly, their amusement now replaced with a kind of thoughtful concern.

jungwon let his head fall back against the chair, eyes staring up at the ceiling as if searching for divine intervention.

“i don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “i thought... ignoring her would be easier than explaining everything. i just didn’t want to deal with it.”

“look,” riki said, tone more serious now, “we get it. but just tell us what you want to do. whatever it is, we’ve got your back.”

jungwon sat up, looking around at the four boys who had somehow become his emotional support team. he smiled faintly, the knot in his chest loosening a little.

“she’s a business ad major,” he said. “her classes are in the south campus. there’s a real chance i’ll run into her again, and... i’m not ready for that. not yet.”

“then that’s what we’ll do,” sunoo said simply, clapping his hands once. “operation: avoid the girl who kisses like she’s greeting a house pet is a go.”

they all agreed with a chorus of nods, their expressions varying from concerned to playfully dramatic.

jungwon smiled genuinely this time, the kind of small, grateful smile you give when you feel seen—even if you’ve made a mess of things.

“thanks, guys,” he muttered.

they all smiled in return, and just like that, the conversation shifted. no more drama, no more awkward elevator encounters—at least not for now. they moved on to safer territory: their orientations, campus tours, the professors they’d met, and the weirdly aggressive squirrel sunghoon swore chased him near the library.

for now, all was calm. or at least, calm enough.

once the last bites of lunch had been savored and the cafés began to quiet, the university crowd began to drift toward a new destination: horizon square.

nestled at the very heart of grand horizon university—between the bustling north campus and the vibrant south—it stood as a kind of living crossroads, a wide-open plaza pulsing with student life. its sprawling walkways were paved with stone in geometric patterns, bordered by stretches of manicured lawn and punctuated with fountains that danced softly under the afternoon sun.

shuttle buses lined the curb like a mechanical parade and near the square's edges, street food stalls sizzled and smoked, perfuming the air with the smell of grilled meat, buttery pastries, and something sweetly unidentifiable.

this was the university's beating heart, and today, it was dressed for an occasion.

dozens of vibrant club stalls had taken over the square—each one boasting colorful tarps, makeshift banners, and enthusiastic upperclassmen who were equal parts persuasive and unhinged. this was club day, and at grand horizon university, it wasn’t just tradition—it was a requirement. every student had to join at least one club, a law more binding than some course requirement.

you stood with your friends at the edge of the square, bright pamphlets in your hands. it had been handed to you by a particularly energetic senior who’d practically stuffed it into your chest mid-walk. the paper listed every club on campus—from the usuals like student government and photography to more obscure options like the “modern escapists book society” and the suspiciously vague “club club.”

yunjin, kazuha, and chaewon had already circled their picks with the decisiveness of people ordering dessert after a good meal. you, however, stared at the list like it was written in another language.

“you okay?” chaewon asked, peeking over your shoulder as you flipped the pamphlet upside down, hoping it would spark inspiration.

“honestly?” you sighed. “none of them are calling out to me. i don’t want to just pick one because it sounds cool and end up trapped in a weekly horror show of forced interactions.”

“too late,” yunjin quipped, nudging you playfully. “that’s called college.”

she had already chosen to join the design society, which made perfect sense—she had the aesthetic sense of a pinterest board and the confidence to back it up. kazuha, on the other hand, had naturally gravitated toward the grand horizon dance company, drawn in by the familiar rhythm and stage lights. and chaewon? she surprised no one by going for the film & tv production society—if anyone was made for dramatic camera pans and chaotic editing rooms, it was her.

you admired their certainty as much as you envied it.

“i think i’ll just walk around,” you finally said, eyes scanning the lively square. “i want to see if any of these clubs actually speak to me. like, soul-to-soul.”

“sure,” kazuha smiled. “we’ll just see you at aurora hall when we’re done?”

“deal,” you nodded.

with that, the four of you drifted apart, each pulled in a different direction by color, curiosity, or convenience. the square buzzed around you like a beehive—music blasting from bluetooth speakers, laughter echoing, students juggling flyers and iced coffees, shouting over one another in a chorus of invitations.

and somewhere among that cheerful chaos, you were hoping to find your place.

or at least a club booth that didn't have glitter in the air and desperate energy in the eyes.

somewhere near the heart of horizon square—surrounded by the hum of voices, the rustling of pamphlets, and the occasional clang of a tambourine from a wildly enthusiastic music club—stood jungwon and his group, each of them absorbed in their own glossy paper map of campus club life.

the pamphlets were colorful, almost aggressively so, each one a collage of ambition and chaos. every square inch was crammed with names, taglines, and wildly optimistic descriptions. jungwon’s friends were already forming their personal paths, choices made with the kind of ease that made jungwon’s indecision feel a little louder in his own chest.

“alright, let’s split up and sign up,” sunoo declared, already folding his pamphlet like a seasoned origami artist.

“creative writers’ forum, here i come,” he added with a proud twirl, like he’d just been cast in a play.

riki, unsurprisingly, had set his eyes—and rhythm—on the grand horizon dance company. he gave a little spin for dramatic flair, earning a thumbs-up from sunoo and a head shake from jungwon.

“we get it,” sunoo deadpanned. “you’ve got moves.”

“can’t waste this talent,” riki replied, flipping imaginary hair as he walked off.

jake, meanwhile, had found unexpected excitement in the biology enthusiasts club. something about their tagline—“where science meets obsession”—spoke to the budding lab rat in him.

sunghoon stood frozen, his pamphlet flapping lazily in the breeze. “i... don’t want anything that screams ‘engineering.’ i’m traumatized already and school hasn't officially started yet.”

“so just do something chill,” jake shrugged.

and with that, sunghoon chose the chill spot: a club that promised board games, snacks, naps, and zero productivity. the dream. the sanctuary. his people.

but jungwon remained where he stood, pamphlet still unfolded in his hands like a riddle waiting to be solved. while the others peeled off one by one, he found himself flipping pages and rereading club descriptions with growing restlessness as he walked aimlessly.

he wanted something... more. something honest. something that would let his creativity breathe.

and then he heard it—a very familiar voice. a voice he would never forget.

“would you like to join our club?”

the voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough to cut through the noise. jungwon glanced up, heart skipping in recognition. there, behind one of the stalls, stood someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“jay?”

he didn’t even realize his feet had started moving until he was already crossing the short distance, smiling wide, pamphlet forgotten.

the man behind the stall blinked, scanning the crowd for the voice. then, spotting jungwon, his eyes lit up. a grin cracked across his face as he stepped out from behind the table.

“bro! what are you doing here?” jay exclaimed, clasping both hands on jungwon’s shoulders like he was trying to confirm he was real.

jungwon chuckled, brushing his hands away and dapping him up. “what do you think i’m doing here? obviously pursuing higher education because my parents say it's ‘necessary’.”

“classic,” jay laughed. “same old jungwon.”

he gestured toward the stall, ushering him over like he was welcoming a guest into his home. jungwon followed, sinking into the offered chair with a soft smile playing on his lips.

“how’ve you been?” jay asked, leaning against the table. “how are sunoo and riki?”

“i'm good and sunoo and riki are actually here too,” jungwon said, lighting up. “we all got in. they’re off somewhere now, signing up to the clubs they wanna join.”

“no way,” jay said with mock disbelief. “the gang’s all here? man, time really does fly. one second we’re cramming for high school finals, the next we’re at the gates of adulthood, pretending to have it all together.”

jungwon laughed quietly, nodding. “yeah. wild.”

jay had always been like an older brother to them—cool without trying, always knowing just what to say. back in high school, he was the one they ran to when things got too loud or too confusing. even now, just seeing him eased a weight jungwon hadn’t realized he’d been carrying.

“so,” jay said, crossing his arms, “have you picked a club yet?”

jungwon hesitated. “not yet. i’ve been looking for something... art-related, maybe. i’m not really confident in my skills, but i know i have decent skills. i just don’t think it’s enough.”

jay hummed thoughtfully and, without missing a beat, took jungwon’s crumpled pamphlet right out of his hands.

“let’s find it, then,” he said, scanning the list like a detective about to crack a case. “you’ve got good instincts. we just need to find the right space to grow them.”

and in that moment, jungwon didn’t feel so lost anymore.

“how about the art & sketch society?” jay offered, handing the pamphlet back to jungwon with a confident flick of his fingers. “focuses on drawing, sketching, all that creative jazz. sounds like it’s right up your alley.”

jungwon blinked, unfolding the slightly crumpled pamphlet with renewed interest, eyes scanning the maze of club names and descriptions. “where did you even see that? how did i miss it?”

jay leaned over with the air of a man who’s done this far too many times, pointing to a modest little box near the bottom corner of the page. “right here. you need better eyesight, man.”

jungwon rolled his eyes but chuckled, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “what would i do without you?”

“probably join something tragic or something that requires anything physical like taekwondo,” jay said with mock solemnity.

jungwon snorted.

“actually,” jay added, a little more seriously, “i was gonna ask if you wanted to join our club. but, uh, figured it might not be your thing.”

he handed over a smaller, more personalized flyer—clearly homemade, slightly chaotic in design, and deeply proud of it.

jungwon read the name aloud, brow furrowed. “the... multi-maybe club?”

jay grinned. “we call ourselves the m-and-m’s. the m-m club, if you will.”

jungwon looked up, deeply confused and deeply amused. “what do you even do in a multi-maybe club?”

jay’s grin widened. “maybe everything. maybe nothing. maybe you paint a wall. maybe you'll nap under a tree. it’s a lawless land, my friend.”

jungwon burst into laughter, the kind that bent him slightly at the waist and made him cover his face for a second. jay stood back with a smile, watching fondly like an older brother watching his favorite sibling crack up at a dumb joke.

“dude,” jungwon said through the laughter, wiping at his eyes, “you just made my whole day.”

“glad to be of service,” jay replied, giving a mock bow.

as jungwon tried to catch his breath, he remembered something. “sunoo and riki need to know you’re here. they’d lose their minds. you free later?”

jay looked down at his wrist, as if checking a watch that didn’t exist. “hmm... maybe i have time.”

jungwon raised an eyebrow.

“okay, okay,” jay laughed. “i’m free. just gotta find one more person to sign up for our club, and then i can pack this whole thing up.”

he stood up straight, brushing invisible dust off his pants, and jungwon mirrored him.

“we’re all meeting at the stem fuel stop later, after everyone’s done signing up,” jungwon said, slowly backing away. “also, we met two new people—you’re gonna love them. they’re... something else.”

“perfect. i’m bringing someone too. you’ll love him,” jay replied, raising a hand in a casual wave as jungwon turned.

“see you later, m&m,” jungwon called over his shoulder with a smirk.

“go find your sketch society, art boy,” jay shot back, laughing.

with one last grin, jungwon disappeared into the crowd, pamphlet in hand, his steps a little lighter now as he searched for the art & sketch society’s stall.

you, on the other hand, were still wandering—admittedly a little lost and, at this point, thoroughly over the parade of pamphlets being thrust in your face.

upperclassmen lined the plaza like cheerful merchants at a bizarre bazaar, each one passionately marketing their clubs as if their lives depended on it. from anime appreciation societies to eco-sustainability coalitions, everyone seemed to have something to pitch. and yet, nothing called out to you.

you smiled politely, declining brochure after brochure with a soft “no, thank you,” until your feet—bored of your indecision—guided you toward a rather peculiar-looking stall.

its banner was simple yet striking: two large block letters—M M—hung above, bold and cryptic. beneath the sign, in slightly chaotic handwriting, read: the multi-maybe club.

you tilted your head. multi-maybe?

it sounded like the kind of club that didn't quite know what it wanted to be. a filler club, perhaps. the type students joined just to finish a university requirement. and yet... there was something oddly magnetic about it. as if those two bold letters were speaking directly to your soul in a silent language only lost, curious freshmen could understand.

drawn in by either fate or mild existential curiosity, you approached.

the guy behind the table was currently mid-conversation with another student, his animated gestures suggesting a practiced pitch. but then his gaze shifted and locked onto you.

“oh—hi there! are you interested in joining our club?” he greeted warmly, already reaching for a flyer. he handed it to you with both hands, like it was something sacred.

you glanced down at the handmade paper. bold scribbles, doodled stars, and a questionable amount of glitter glue outlined the text:

‘welcome to the multi-maybe club! where you can do everything... or nothing. your multiple maybes? might just happen here—or maybe not. it's your choice!’

he flashed a grin and pointed proudly at the sign above his head. “we're all about possibilities,” he said. “maximum freedom. minimal expectations.”

you looked at him, then at the sign, then back at the flyer.

“…where do i sign up?” you asked, surprising even yourself with how fast the words came out.

the guy's smile spread even wider, his eyes practically lighting up. “you just made the best maybe-decision of your life, miss..?” he declared, handing you a clipboard with a list of names. without hesitation, you wrote down your name, your major, and scribbled your signature at the bottom.

“y/n,” you said. “just call me y/n.”

“y/n,” he repeated with a nod, committing it to memory. “nice to meet you. i’m jay—vice president of the m-m club. our president’s off being a busy graduating senior, but she exists. i promise.”

you chuckled, handing back the clipboard.

jay reached under the table and pulled out a more official-looking pamphlet—actually printed, this time. “here’s our schedule, basic club info, building details. you’ll mostly find us in the lucent library next to aurora hall. the librarian kinda loves us. mostly because we either do absolutely nothing or occasionally help re-shelve books. it’s a vibe.”

you scanned the paper, trying not to laugh at how absurdly laid-back the club seemed. still, it felt oddly right.

“thanks, jay,” you said, tucking the brochure into your tote bag. “see you around.”

“yep, see you around,” he replied, giving you a small wave as you turned to leave.

as you walked away, your thoughts drifted. ‘did i really just join a filler club?’ you shook your head, a small laugh slipping from your lips as you slid the flyer into your bag, tucked just beside the brochure.

but strangely enough, you felt something warm bubble in your chest.

excitement.

not the wild, overwhelming kind—but a quiet, budding curiosity.

as soon as you managed to escape the buzz of horizon square—dodging the last wave of overly enthusiastic club recruiters—you finally spotted your friends. they were gathered on the broad stone steps leading to aurora hall, their silhouettes bathed in the golden hue of the afternoon light.

you waved both arms above your head as you jogged toward them, the crowd now thinning as students slowly trickled out of the plaza. some were heading home, others drifting into the campus cafés, tucked-away eateries, or lingering in the comfort of air-conditioned student lounges.

yunjin noticed you first. she raised a can of diet coke in the air like a sacred offering, her expression amused. you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle—she knew you too well.

you reached them with slightly breathless laughter and dropped yourself between chaewon and kazuha, letting your weight sink into the cool steps. yunjin was perched two steps above you, and with no hesitation, you leaned back so your head could rest comfortably on her thigh. she handed you the drink without a word.

“bless your soul,” you mumbled with a grateful smile as you cracked the can open and took a generous sip. the fizzy sweetness coated your tongue, and you exhaled with an exaggerated, refreshed sigh. without a second thought, you leaned back further, letting your body melt against yunjin’s warmth as she absentmindedly played with your hair.

“should we go home now?” she murmured lazily, fingers threading through your strands.

the word home struck like a silent spell.

no one answered immediately. instead, all four of you sank into an almost meditative silence. just the thought of soft pillows, cool sheets, and the sweet hum of an air conditioner was enough to temporarily sedate you all.

you each had things to prepare for tomorrow—yes, technically syllabus week, but the illusion of leisure was already wearing thin. there were class schedules to memorize, supplies to organize, nerves to settle.

after several long, deliciously quiet moments, as if perfectly choreographed, you all nodded slowly and muttered a collective, almost reverent: “yep.”

no further discussion was needed. you stood together, heavy-footed and slow-moving, like four survivors of a mild but exhausting war.

“we should head back and recharge,” you said, walking in step with them. “we’ve only got one week to mentally brace ourselves for whatever academic avalanche awaits.”

“and we find out our schedules tomorrow,” kazuha added with a groan, already opening her phone to book a ride. “can’t wait to see if fate puts me in an 7a.m. class in the first semester.”

“tell me about it.” yunjin grumbled.

chaewon simply sighed like she’d already accepted her impending doom.

you booked your own ride and the four of you migrated to the waiting shed just by the university’s gate. the air was beginning to cool as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows along the sidewalk.

your uber arrived first.

you gave each of your friends quick hugs and soft cheek kisses—half-hearted from tiredness but no less sincere.

“text us when you get home,” chaewon reminded you just as you slid one foot into the car.

you gave her a lazy thumbs-up before disappearing behind the door and letting it close with a soft thud.

the ride home was quiet. your head leaned against the window, and the city outside blurred into pastel streaks as exhaustion settled in your bones. by the time you arrived at your apartment, you barely had the energy to thank your driver.

the moment the door shut behind you, you kicked off your shoes and peeled away the layers of your day until you were down to nothing but your underwear and bra. with a long exhale, you padded barefoot across the floor and into your bedroom, phone in hand.

a few quick texts were sent—first to your group chat: ‘home safe’, then to your parents, followed by a small heart emoji. you dropped your phone onto the bed with a soft thump and made your way to your closet, grabbing a change of clothes.

the shower was bliss. warm water cascading down your skin like a gentle reset, washing away the sweat, the noise, and the weight of navigating new beginnings.

after drying your hair and pulling on fresh clothes, you collapsed onto your bed. the mattress embraced you like an old friend. the pillow welcomed your head like it had been waiting all day.

you meant to grab your phone again.

you meant to check messages, maybe scroll a little.

but your body had other plans.

within minutes, your breathing slowed, thoughts blurred, and sleep took you—soft and soundless.

meanwhile, tucked into a corner booth at the stem fuel stop, jungwon and his group were in a state of quiet suspense—well, most of them were. jake and sunghoon were entirely absorbed in their own little worlds, multitasking between snacking and scrolling through their phones, while sunoo and riki eyed jungwon like he’d grown a second head.

“won,” sunoo said, voice laced with suspicion and a bit of exasperation, “can you please tell us why we’re still here? i thought we were just gonna meet up, take a break, maybe grab some food. but you’re not even eating. you’re just… smiling at the window.”

sunoo gestured dramatically toward jungwon, who was indeed sitting there with the faintest, most serene smile on his face. every time the café door swung open, his head would subtly turn, eyes lighting up with anticipation. it was getting weird.

“just trust me,” jungwon said, practically glowing with mystery. “you’ll be surprised. and happy. very, very soon.”

sunoo narrowed his eyes but leaned back in his seat with a long sigh, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “i swear… him and his mood swings.”

riki raised an eyebrow and tilted his head toward sunoo, silently mouthing, ‘what’s up with him now?’

sunoo just shrugged, the universal response for ‘no clue, don’t ask me.’

riki glanced at the clock. “he sure is taking his sweet time,” he muttered under his breath, peering down at his phone, clearly considering whether this whole setup was worth the wait.sunoo shot him a look that said ‘tell me about it’, when—

“i see you two are still as impatient as ever.”

a familiar voice, smooth and teasing, landed behind them, a head popping from behind them and a hand gently pressed down on both their shoulders, startling the two boys upright.

they twisted in their seats, eyes wide.

“jay?!” they both gasped in unison, voices laced with disbelief, joy, and the slightest touch of betrayal—how dare he sneak up on them like that?

sunoo shot up from his seat and threw his arms around jay’s neck like he was making up for lost time. riki was still half in shock, but his body moved on instinct, arms wrapping tightly around jay’s waist.

“woah—hey—okay, this is happening,” jay laughed, slightly thrown off balance by the ambush hug, his arms eventually resting around both their heads, gently ruffling their hair like he used to.

jungwon, still seated and watching the scene unfold, burst into a quiet laugh. there was something so warm, so stupidly precious, about seeing his friends melt like kids at a surprise reunion.

“did you guys miss me that much?” jay teased, smiling as he tried to wiggle free from their emotional death grip.

sunoo and riki both nodded emphatically, faces buried in opposite ends of jay’s shoulder and torso.

jay chuckled, “you do realize it’s only been two years, right? not a whole lifetime.”

sunoo and riki pulled back just far enough to glare up at him, eyes narrowed.

“that is a lifetime,” they chorused indignantly, as if he’d just said something blasphemous.

jay held up his hands in surrender, laughing again. “okay, okay. two years is forever. my bad.”

he patted their heads again, endearingly like an older brother humoring two very dramatic younger siblings. “now, can i sit? or do i need to earn that too?”

sunoo finally slid back into his seat with an exaggerated sigh, while riki made room on the other side. jay sat between them, comfortably wedged in the heart of the group once again—like he’d never left.

“umm, guys?” jake’s voice sliced gently through the warmth of the reunion. it was the kind of voice people used when they were trying not to intrude but also couldn’t ignore the rising curiosity bubbling inside them. his hand hovered mid-air like a student with a question—half-hopeful, half-hesitant.

he and sunghoon had been sitting quietly, mere spectators to the emotional reunion unfolding in front of them. they didn’t want to interrupt something that was clearly meaningful, but the urge to be part of it was beginning to hum louder deep inside them.

besides, judging by the way riki and sunoo lit up at the sight of jay, this wasn’t just a casual catch-up—this was the friend reunion. and they wanted in.

“are you gonna introduce us,” jake said, tilting his head, “or should we just keep watching from the audience section?”

jay chuckled, the sound low and familiar, like laughter shared in hallways and cafeterias. he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry, sorry. name’s jay. i’ve been friends with these three since high school. i’m a third year here at grand horizon—marketing major, occasional chaos enabler.”

he reached out to shake their hands.

“jake,” the boy said with a bright smile, “biology major. aspiring mad scientist.”

“sunghoon,” the other said smoothly. “engineering. part-time realist, full-time eye-roller.”

jay grinned as he shook both their hands. “i like this group already.”

“how’d you all meet, anyway?” he asked, looking around as he settled into the seat like he belonged there.

sunoo, ever ready to explain, perked up. “sunghoon’s my dorm mate, jake’s with riki, and we kinda just... adopted jungwon last month. it was very wholesome.”

“like a stray cat,” jake added helpfully.

jungwon made a face. “i’m right here, you know.”

“we know,” riki said, patting his head.

jay laughed, then, without missing a beat, leaned over and stole a fry from jake’s plate with the grace of someone who had clearly done this before.

“did you just—?”

“i did,” jay confirmed mid-chew, grinning. “anyway, it’s great to meet you guys. you’re gonna love it here, i promise. oh—and i’ve got a friend coming. he should be here any minute.”

as if on cue, the bell above the café door gave a soft chime, announcing the arrival of someone new.

and then—he walked in.

a young man with striking red hair, not the playful kind, but the bold, unapologetic shade of red that demanded attention the moment he entered a room. his presence was immediate—subtle, but undeniable.

he wore a black tank top tucked effortlessly into dark gray, high-waisted trousers tailored to perfection. they cinched his waist and flowed down with structured elegance, every step a study in confidence. layered loosely over his frame was a glossy black leather button-up long sleeve shirt, worn open, the material catching the light with each movement like a ripple of shadow.

a thin, silver chain with a cross pendant rested against his collarbone, glinting faintly. tiny silver hoops adorned his ears, understated yet intentional. and slung diagonally across his torso was a sleek black crossbody bag, the strap sitting snug over his chest, completing the look with quiet precision.

he didn’t look around frantically. instead, his eyes swept the café with the calm disinterest of someone who had no need to search—only to be found.

he looked cool—effortlessly so. intimidating, even. the kind of person who didn’t need to try hard to stand out. he just did.

all five of them froze, except for jay. the kind of freeze that wasn’t fear, but awe. they weren’t sure whether to hope this was jay’s friend or pray it wasn’t—because if it was, they were suddenly not sure they were dressed well enough for this sudden meet up.

jay raised his arm and called out with a wide smile. “yo! heeseung, over here!”

the red-haired man—heeseung—glanced over. a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, quiet but genuine. and then he moved, heading toward them with long, unhurried strides, each step measured and magnetic.

“wait... that’s his friend?” sunoo whispered, eyes wide.

riki nodded slowly, voice distant. “he looks like a runway model who just woke up and decided to casually destroy everyone’s self-esteem.”

“and somehow he looks even taller in person,” jungwon muttered, blinking.

“i'm probably taller,” riki tried saving his self-esteem even though he wasn't sure if it was actually working.

jay was already stylish—sharp jawline, good taste, an air of familiarity. but heeseung? he walked in like a scene from a movie. red hair, glowing skin, dressed like a secret. he didn’t blend in. he redefined the space around him.

even jungwon, who had his own soft kind of charm with tousled blonde hair and a boyish smile, felt like a background character.

heeseung approached the table with the quiet composure of someone used to eyes following him—unbothered, but never arrogant. like the world always adjusted itself slightly to make room for him.

he walked past everyone at the table, his pace unhurried, presence effortlessly commanding. but instead of acknowledging the wide-eyed stares or curious glances sent his way, he went straight to jay, greeting him with a casual dap that spoke of years of shared moments and easy trust.

after the brief gesture, heeseung’s gaze swept across the table, his lips tugging into a soft, almost bashful smile. it was surprising, really—how someone who looked like a living editorial spread from a fashion magazine could also look so... shy.

he leaned closer to jay, his voice low. “umm, do i have to introduce myself first?”

a second ago, he had seemed untouchable—cool, collected, almost intimidating. now, he resembled a new kid in class, unsure where to begin.

jay chuckled, amused by the contrast, and gave heeseung a light pat on the back. “just sit down and start talking,” he whispered, then gently nudged him toward the only empty chair—right beside jungwon. heeseung blinked, then allowed himself to be pushed down into the seat like a confused but obedient hamster.

“oh, okay,” he muttered under his breath, then cleared his throat and addressed the table. “hi, umm... i’m heeseung. a friend of jay’s. third year. music composition major. we’ve also been in the same club since first year.” he nodded once, firmly, as if that sealed the deal on his introduction.

there was a beat of silence before everyone else began introducing themselves, one after the other.

first came jungwon, polite and reserved. then sunoo, bright and curious. riki chimed in with a charming smile, followed by jake, who had the enthusiasm of a golden retriever discovering a new friend. sunghoon went last, cool and composed, giving a small nod as if he were in a press conference.

the energy was a little awkward, but thankfully, everyone seemed willing to push past that initial stiffness. questions began to float into the air, light and genuine.

riki leaned forward first, his tone friendly. “so, how’d you and jay meet?”

heeseung let out a short laugh, the memory lighting up his face. “we met on the first day of uni, actually. both of us were at horizon square, just wandering around trying to figure out what club to join. then we ended up standing in front of this one weird stall that had two massive m’s on the sign. the multi-maybe club. weird name, right?”

the group chuckled.

“anyway, jay started talking to me out of nowhere—just asking random things like what my major was, what music i liked, what my blood type was. totally normal stuff.” heeseung grinned. “we didn’t know anyone at the time, so it was honestly nice he didn’t just leave after signing up. after that, we kept in touch. we’d study in the library together, eat lunch during breaks... even though we’re in different majors, he kind of just stuck around. and yeah, he’s basically the only real friend i’ve had here.”

jay, listening with an increasingly dramatic expression, slowly placed both hands over his heart like a victorian lady hearing a love confession.

“awww,” jay gasped. “i’m your only real friend?”

he reached out theatrically for heeseung’s hand, his eyes brimming with fake tears.

without even blinking, heeseung rolled his eyes and yanked his hand away—then flipped jay off with a casual flick of his middle finger.

the entire table erupted into laughter.

“well,” heeseung added with a playful smirk, “i’m actually hoping to change that by meeting all of you.”

jay clutched his chest as if he'd been shot. “and just like that, replaced. i should’ve let you eat alone.”

more laughter followed, the kind that comes when tension melts away and something genuine settles in its place. the group was still new to each other, but it no longer felt like strangers trying too hard. it felt like the beginning of something that might just be real.

the conversation continued to flow—light, casual, but slowly unraveling layers. they asked about each other's lives, traded stories of high school mischief, swapped sports preferences, and shared scattered facts with the kind of curiosity only new friendships carry. it was a soft chaos of voices, laughter, and the occasional gasp at unexpected confessions.

then, as if sensing a lull in the momentum, jay leaned forward and tilted his head toward jungwon.

“so,” he said with a glint in his eye, “anything new with you, jungwon?”

jungwon blinked, caught off guard. his mouth opened slightly, ready to reply—but sunoo beat him to it with a mischievous grin.

“he has a girl problem right now,” sunoo said in a sing-song tone, and jay’s expression lit up like a proud older brother watching his kid finally enter the dating world.

“what? finally?” jay laughed, eyebrows raised in delight.

jungwon’s ears turned an unmistakable shade of pink, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he let out an awkward chuckle. “it’s not a problem, she’s not a problem,” he said, shaking his head, clearly hoping to steer the topic elsewhere—anywhere, really.

but riki leaned in dramatically, eyes wide with faux shock. “ohhh, he’s defending her now? this is new.”

sunoo, never one to let a moment slip, immediately mimicked jungwon’s earlier voice. “she’s not a problem,” he repeated with exaggerated sincerity, clasping his hands to his chest like he was quoting poetry.

jay looked amused, borderline delighted, as he leaned closer. “okay, now i have to know. what happened?”

heeseung, who had been quietly sipping his drink and observing, now perked up as well. his eyes, already large, seemed to double in size, gleaming with pure curiosity. “i’m curious too.”

jungwon groaned, realizing escape was futile. “nothing happened,” he muttered. “let’s just say... i’m trying to avoid her. that’s it. end of story.”

he looked around the table, firm and resolute, like a man putting up caution tape around his heart.

everyone exchanged glances but decided—for now—to let it go. jay, however, had other plans.

with the stealth of someone used to scheming, he leaned toward sunoo and gave the slightest nod. sunoo caught it instantly.

sunoo sighed, already resigning himself to being the group's designated informant. jay then flicked his gaze toward heeseung and gave a small head gesture toward sunoo. heeseung, catching on, turned to sunoo as well. sunoo nodded once, a solemn confirmation.

a pact had been made. they were going to sunoo and sunghoon’s dorm later. mission: dig up all the tea.

it might’ve been a spontaneous plan, but in their group, that was more than enough. jay and heeseung were already honorary members. the invitation was unspoken but entirely valid. all they had to do was wait for jungwon to finally go home.

as if on cue, the topic changed, drifting into safer territory—about the orientation and tour earlier and old campus drama when jay and heeseung were first and second year. the sky outside had deepened into shades of evening, and before long, it was time to go.

the group slowly rose from their seats, gathering their things, still chatting as they made their way out of the café. they lingered at the front gate of the university, waiting under a waiting shed for their ubers to arrive.

jungwon’s car was the first to pull up.

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he said casually, waving as he climbed into the vehicle.

“bye!” the group chorused.

“message us when you get home,” sunoo followed up as jungwon hops inside the car.

but the second the car door shut and his ride rolled away down the street, the rest of them turned toward each other with the same look.

it was time.

no one needed to say it. it was understood. they were going to sunoo and sunghoon’s dorm, and tonight, they would unearth the full story behind jungwon’s ‘she’s not a problem’ girl.

jake and riki, a bit late to realize what was happening, exchanged glances.

“wait—are we going too?” jake asked.

“you are now,” sunoo said, already walking ahead.

riki shrugged. “well, i do know the whole story…”

“perfect,” jay grinned. “you’re coming. we need to know every detail.”

and with that, the group disappeared into the night, drawn together not just by friendship, but by the irresistible pull of juicy gossip waiting to be spilled behind dorm room walls.

taglist⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀ @morganaawriterr @wondoras @mypolka @meowwwon @dolliehue @in-somnias-world @yjwonsgf @kirijuns @iifrui @momisanalien @vieniee @drunkjazed @hhyvsstuff @readinmidnight @noona-neomu-yeppeo @cutehoons02 @robotinvenus @starfallia @nijisanjigenshin @kkamismom12 @kinamurariki @soobundle1009 @supershy3 @nodoubtily @vrikisn @jayjw16enxp @skzfangirl143 @0leelina0 @noriiluv @o2whre @nocturnebite @userprdx (taglist is still open, comment to be added.) final notes⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀i hope you guys enjoyed! part five will probably be posted on saturday or sunday! see you guys then!

©⠀mæwphoria⠀|⠀all works belong to me. strictly do not plagiarize, copy, translate, paraphrase, rewrite or repost my works on any other platforms. if it's inspiration gained from my work then it's appreciated and i wish you good luck with your own stories. thank you.

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snehasingh797 · 1 year ago

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Best Ways For Manufacturers To Appoint Verified Distributors.

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Read Also:- Best Ways For Manufacturers To Appoint Verified Distributors.

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thewritingrowlet · 7 months ago

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The Second Chance, ft. Red Velvet Wendy

tags: creampie, first time

length: almost 13k

author's note: well, I guess I lied about releasing this by weekend

“Miss Son, may I talk to you for a bit?” Wendy’s gaze moves to look at you. “Sure—do you want to talk here, or?” You nod. “Yes, please.”

Wendy invites you to sit on the armchair next to the sofa she’s sitting on. “Can I help you?” “No, not really; I just want to say that today will be my last day with you.” She furrows her eyebrows. “Where are you going?” You grin a little. “Erm, Jiho and I are moving to Japan.” The frown on her face is quickly replaced with excitement. “Oh my God, congratulations!” Wendy hugs you from the side, kind as ever. “Thank you, Miss Son,” your cheeks are getting red, “I, erm, I’m looking forward to having a new life with her.”

Wendy pulls you onto her feet. “Let’s go buy stuff—y’know, parting gifts.” “Oh, that won’t be necessary, Miss Son,” you decline politely, “as far as I know, you’re busy today.” She puts her fists on her waist. “Are you sure you don’t want presents?” You smile. “It’s not that I don’t want them, Miss Son; it’s just that you’ve shown us so much kindness already.” She pouts for a split second before smiling again. “You’re glazing, oppa.” You burst out laughing. “And you spend too much time on social media, Miss Son.”

After the laughs die down, you walk with her towards the lobby where a chauffeur is waiting for the two of you. “Can you brief me on my schedules today?” You unlock the tablet in your hand to look at your notes. “We’ll be going to the food bank first like I said, and here it says you’ll be attending a meeting at Han Group.” “Oh, Han Group—they’re such a good bunch,” you can hear the excitement in her voice, as if impatient to go to that meeting.

The car stops in front of the food bank after a 30-minute drive. “We’re here, Miss Son,” the chauffeur says. Wendy stirs awake from her nap. “Oh, we are?” She pulls out a small folding mirror from her purse to look at herself. She tidies her hair to make herself look presentable. “I think I look okay.”

Wendy gets out of the car, and that’s your sign to do the same. Your heart jumps when she wraps an arm around yours—she has never done this before. “Let’s go,” she says, clueless to the fact that your cheeks are blazing hot. “Y-yes, miss.”

You open the door for her, and heads are promptly turned towards you and her. Wendy, used to attention, starts waving and smiling. “Ah, Miss Son, welcome to our house,” someone approaches the two of you—her little name tag says that her name is Han Haru. Wendy lets go of your arm to shake Haru’s hand. “I’m excited to be here, Miss Han.”

Haru asks that you and Wendy follow her to her office that’s located on the second floor, and like the proper assistant that you are, you take position behind the two women.

“Have a seat, please, Miss Son,” Haru says. Wendy sits on the chair on the other side of the desk and asks you to sit next to her. “I take it you’re here to volunteer?” Wendy nods enthusiastically. “Yes, and I’ll also be donating to your cause.”

Haru smiles. “I don’t mean to offend you at all, Miss Son, but why are you doing this—why aren’t you sitting on the top floor of some skyscraper counting your piles of bills?” Wendy smiles twice as softly. “What good is a pile of money if not used for the correct purposes, Miss Han?” Haru nods, satisfied with the answer. “Are we ready to start, then?” Wendy gets on her feet right away. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Haru gives Wendy a vest with the food bank’s logo on the back. “So, what do we do now?” “We’ll make a stop at the kitchen; the crew are working hard to prepare a ton of food, and we’ll help them box it for distribution.” “Sounds great—let’s go, then,” Wendy’s always-positive mind is admirable.

The three of you arrive at the kitchen after a short walk. Wendy’s eyes look at each person present, highly impressed and touched by their kind hearts for being willing to do such work that doesn’t pay much.

“Oppa,” she whispers to you, “can you arrange some bread for them?” You nod. “Of course, Miss Son.” You pull out your phone to text her treasurer, and after a short back-and-forth, the treasurer says that she’ll get it ready within the next hour. “She’s working on it, Miss Son,” you inform her, getting a nod as a response.

Haru points at a table that’s full of folded food containers and says that Wendy will be working on it first, and then after the food is ready, Haru and her will pack each one to the brim. “Are you also taking a part in this?” “Yes, I am―Miss Son here wouldn’t last a day without me,” you say, earning an elbow to the ribs from Wendy. “Alright, you can work with her, then—I’ll be helping somewhere else.”

You grab one folded container from the table and immediately start working on it, and since you’ve handled this sort of thing before, you know how to shape them into a ready-to-use form. Wendy, on the other hand, isn’t having as much success as you. “Oppa, slow down; let me see how you do it.” “You’ve never done this before?” “No, I—oh my God, slow down!” She airs her frustration when she sees you work on another box swiftly. “Alright, alright—here.”

You grab one more from the pile and place it on the table. “See these lines, Miss Son?” Wendy’s eyes follow your finger that’s running along the lines on the paper. “The factory put these lines here as a guide for you to fold.” “Okay, so?” You fold the paper following the lines, and after such simple steps, the box starts to take shape. You wait for Wendy to do the same things you have. You can see the fascination on her face now that she’s making progress. “Okay, okay—now what?” “Lift these little tabs and fit them into the slits, just like this.” Once again, she does the same things, and after finishing it, Wendy begins clapping in excitement—she’s clapping and jumping so much that her vest that’s just a bit too big is bouncing around. “Oh my God—oh my God, that was so cool!” “Dozens to go, Miss Son.”

You and Wendy finish shaping these boxes at a steady pace, but before the two of you manage to finish the pile, Haru announces that the food is ready to be packed. “I’ll take care of this, Miss Son; you can go help Miss Han,” you say. Without saying a word, Wendy quickly jogs towards the assembly line. You steal some glances every now and then, and in a particular instance, you see her expressions that scream “I’m overwhelmed”: her eyes are moving rapidly, her mouth is open, and her hands are shaking.

“You can stop, mister; I think we have enough boxes, and we need your help here,” Haru says from the distance. You rush towards Wendy and Haru so that you can help them. “Help us with those bags, please.” You shake paper bags upside down to fill them with air. The expanded bags can then hold the food container.

In her out-of-breath state, Wendy crashes onto a nearby bench. “How are we feeling, Miss Son?” She puts on a thumbs-up for you. “Amazing—I-I feel like a saint right now.” You laugh. “I mean, you kind of are at this point.” You pull out a small bottle of water from your back pocket. “Would you like some water, Miss Son?” She nods, so you crack it open and hand it over to her. “Thanks, oppa.”

You guess that she doesn’t have the energy to walk to her car, so you ask the chauffeur to come to your location. “The car is on the way, Miss Son.” Once again, she nods, still unable to stop panting.

Before long, the car pulls into the side of the road close to you. “Can you walk, Miss Son?” “Yeah, yeah—just one second, please.” While Wendy stumbles towards the car, you take the initiative to open the door for her. “Oh, that’s so nice of you, oppa—are you sure you don’t want to stay, because I can’t imagine a day without you.” You smile. “Apologies, miss, but the decision has been made.”

Once she’s inside, Wendy asks you to grab another bottle of water, so you do just that. Now that she’s in the privacy of her car, she doesn’t bother drinking neatly, letting water drip off her chin and onto her clothes. “Excuse me, Miss Son,” you wipe her chin with tissue to clean the mess. “You’re treating me like a kid,” she comments. You apologize once more. “Just trying to make sure you look okay for the meeting.” Wendy sinks into her seat. “Meeting? Really?”

Soon, the car stops in front of the Han Group building. “I’m going to fucking cry,” she says. Wendy rarely curses, only saying them when she’s in the most frustrating or annoying moments. “Remind me what I’m here for?” “Erm,” you quickly open your notes, “you’re here for a friendly visit.” Wendy looks out the window. “I’ll need you to keep your ears open, oppa—if you hear me say cake, pull me out of the meeting.” You nod. “Certainly, Miss Son.”

You get out of the car first and head towards the receptionist table. “Hello, I’m with the Son Industries,” you show the lady your employee ID card, “I’m here with Miss Son for a meeting.” “Sure, but where is she?” You point at her car that’s stopped at the lobby. “She’s still catching her breath—oh, there she is,” you see Wendy walking through the door with a smile. The receptionist reaches for the landline on her desk, and before long, she’s ready to take you to the meeting room.

The lady stops in front of a small office space on the first floor. “The boss will join you in a moment,” she says. The lady then leaves after you thank her (with a smile on your face, of course), leaving you alone with Wendy. You open the door for her. “After you, Miss Son.”

You take a seat on the empty chair next to her. Wendy lets out a hum, and when you look at her, she’s trying to roll her chair towards you. “I hope you don’t mind,” she says. “Sorry?” She doesn’t answer you, opting to show you instead by resting her head on your shoulder. “If there’s anything I can do to sway you from leaving me, let me know.” “Miss Son—” “Yeah, yeah, the decision has been made or whatever you said.”

You wrap an arm around her shoulder. “If the plan fails, I’ll come back running to you, Miss Son—well, if you’d let me, that is.” Wendy chuckles. “You’re always welcome at Son Industries, oppa.”

Through the glass pane, you see that the boss of the Han Group is approaching, so you tap Wendy’s arm to get her to straighten her posture. “Did you know that my father tried arranging a marriage for me and that guy?” You furrow your eyebrows—you never heard about such arrangement. “Mr. Han Harvey? Really?” Wendy sighs. “Well, he’s married to someone else now, so it doesn’t matter anymore—I like older guys anyway.”

“Miss Son,” Harvey greets her with a smile, “thank you for coming.” Wendy puts on her businesswoman smile. “Of course, Mr. Han; thank you for inviting me.” Harvey takes a seat on the other side of the desk. “We’ll be talking about business a little if that’s okay with you, Miss Son.” Wendy chuckles. “I was afraid you’d say that, but sure.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lee—I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Wendy enters her house and beelines towards the kitchen to find something to put in the microwave. She sees some leftover kimbap from yesterday when she opens the fridge. “Yeah, sure.”

Once the reheated food is in her hands, she grabs the letter you’ve written for her as a “parting gift.” “Why am I nervous about this, it’s just a letter,” Wendy questions herself. She tries clearing her mind by taking a few deep breaths first. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

“Miss Son,

I was the first person in my entire extended family to have gotten a bachelor's degree, and with only that degree in my back pocket, I mustered up the courage to apply to your father’s big-city company. Heh, I still remember how my heart raced when I received an interview invitation 10 days after I had applied.

I spent the night wondering what I should wear, since I had been told that first impressions are the most important thing when looking for a job, but at the time, I only had a few shirts of different colors and some grey and black trousers. Eventually, I decided to put on a red shirt and grey trousers since I thought that I would look good in them.

I remember walking through the big doors of the ground floor, and it might have been just me, but I thought people were looking at me weird, and believe me when I say that it killed my confidence that was nearly nonexistent to begin with.

The receptionist at the time was Miss Kim Yerim. I remember the kind smile on her face when she first greeted me. She immediately asked me if I was going to an interview, and before long, I found myself sitting in an empty room nervously, waiting for someone to enter and actually start asking me questions.

I remember calling my parents immediately after I had been told that I was accepted at your father’s company. I understand that it might sound corny or stupid to you considering what kind of job it was, but for a man with simple dreams like me, it meant the world to me, Miss Son.

Since I don’t have much space left on this page, I’ll skip some details and tell you how I felt when I was told that I’d become your personal assistant. Truthfully, Miss Son, I couldn’t sleep; I was so busy worrying about working directly under you.

It didn’t help that you weren’t in the best mood when I first met you that morning. I recall the way your sharp gaze was directly aimed at me. Honestly, it felt like there was a hole between my eyes because of it. Little did I know that behind all your charades, you’re actually a very kind person.

Ultimately, I’d like to thank you, Miss Son. You’ve given this guy from the countryside plenty of chances to grow, both as an employee and a person, and I promise that I will never stop growing and learning wherever I am.

Miss Son, I’d like to think that this isn’t a perpetual goodbye, but rather a brief divergence. As much as I’m about to live a new life with my wife in a new land, I believe that one day I’ll find my way back to Son Industries, and whenever that may be, I hope that you keep yourself safe and well until then.

With respect and admiration,

Jin Changmin”

Tears that have been flowing freely out of Wendy’s eyes land on the letter. “Goodness me, oppa, why are you doing this to me—I-I thought we had something special.” She tries reading the letter from the top again, but her mind can’t focus. “God damn it, why, oppa?” Her weak hand lets go of the letter, thus letting it drop onto the carpet. “I-I love you, Jin Changmin—by God, I love you so, so much.” No matter how loud or how many times she says it, she doesn’t hear any answer, and it wrings her heart beyond help.

In a dangerous mix of anger and anguish, Wendy tosses the mug in front of her at the wall, shattering it into hundreds of pieces—a manifestation of her broken heart. “I-I hate you, oppa; I-I hate that you’ve left me like this.”

Wendy contemplates if she wants to burn the letter, but at the last minute, she decides against it. “Come back to me soon, oppa; I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Love, we’re here—we’re actually here,” Jiho tugs your hand that she’s holding, seemingly in disbelief that the two of you have reached Japan. “You’re excited, aren’t you, love?” Jiho nods. “I’m both excited and nervous, but I have you with me, so I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

You lift your hand to hail a cab for you and your wife, and the first thing you do is shove your luggage into the trunk. After getting in, you speak into the translator app, which, well, translates your words, and not long after that, the cab starts rolling. “No turning back now,” you think.

You pull Jiho closer to you. “Get some nap, love; I’ll keep an eye out for us.” She promptly yawns. “I love you,” she says softly. “I love you too,” you end your reply by giving a peck on her head.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your destination, which is a regular 5-story apartment building not too far from the center of the city. “Love, we’re here,” you tap your wife’s arm to wake her up. She looks around with half open eyes. “Oh, okay.” While she gathers herself after her nap, you get off the cab first to take your luggage out the trunk.

Once Jiho is ready, you take her hand in yours and walk with her towards your new unit.

“Oh, this is pretty cool,” Jiho comments. “Do we have a bidet?” She jogs to the bathroom to check. “Oh, yes, we do—wow, it’s already so much better here.” Her excitement is infectious, and you can’t help but feel the same.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, and without being asked, Jiho takes her favorite spot on your lap. “Thank you for everything, love,” she says. You peck her on the lips. “You are all I have, love.” She smiles. “And you are all I have, especially in this foreign land.”

Jiho suddenly comes in for a kiss, her hands placed neatly on your nape. “What do you say we break this place in?” “Only if you promise you won’t be too loud.” She laughs. “I can’t help it; my husband is almost too big for me.”

You fall backwards onto the bed, letting your wife take a different position. “Love, I don’t have the energy to ride you,” she says, so you let her lie on her back first before getting on top of her. “Ah, this is more like it.”

Jiho reaches for the topmost button on your shirt but stops before your last button. “Something feels odd,” she comments, “do you not want to do this?” You’ve been caught. “Sorry, I was just thinking about something else—I’ll focus on us now.” Jiho furrows her eyebrows. “You weren’t thinking about Miss Son, were you?” You weren’t, but now that she mentions it, you wonder what Miss Son is up to. “No, I wasn’t,” you deflect.

Jiho asks you to prove to her if you’re truly focused on her and only her, her words laced with jealousy. “You got it, love,” you reply.

You can feel that Jiho is quite unhappy with you, but the way she lets out a small gasp when your lips first latch on the side of her neck assures you that the situation can be salvaged as long as you perform well.

Jiho guides your hand towards her breasts, and that’s a sign to you that she’s feeling better. “T-touch me here, please.” You palm and play with her breast like she wants you to, thus earning soft moans from her. “Yes, just like that, love—just don’t think about anything else.”

You stop the stimulation on her neck when you see that there’s a decently sized pink spot on it. “You’ll need to put on a scarf when we go out tonight, love.” Jiho chuckles. “Nah, I’ll proudly show off your mark.”

You straighten your posture to undress properly, and while you do that, Jiho takes the chance to do the same. You think that she’s ready now that she’s down to her underwear, but based on her expressions, she’s not in the right mind just yet.

“Oppa,” she calls to you, “I’m feeling something, but I can’t put it into words.” You keep your eyes on her. “Is it bad?” Jiho bites her bottom lip nervously. “I-I don’t know.” You start petting her head gently. “Can you describe a little?” “I just feel… uneasy—I feel like something is looming ahead, but I don’t know what.” You put on a smile that you hope is assuring. “I understand if you’re nervous, but as long as we stick together, we will be fine, love.”

Jiho holds your hand with her soft hands. “I hope you won’t blame me when things don’t work out—I’m being serious right now.” “It wouldn’t be fair for me, love; we’re in this together, are we not?” Your respond doesn’t quite satisfy Jiho. “What would you do if things don’t work out, oppa?” “I’d take you back to Korea,” you say the first answer in your head. Jiho takes a few deep breaths. “Sounds good.”

This doesn’t feel like a good transition to sex, so you ask if she wants to continue like this. “Just… hold me for now, please,” she requests. “Of course, love.”

“I’m home,” you say as you enter through the door, but there’s no sign of her. Usually, she’ll rush to you as soon as she hears the door swing open, but not today. “Love, where are you?” You put down the bouquet on the living room table and start walking around the interior. Your heart rate spikes when you hear moans coming out of the bedroom. “What is she doing,” you think as your hand turns the handle.

Your heart comes to an immediate stop—she’s having sex with someone else, bouncing her butt on his lap. “What the fuck?” Jiho turns her head to look at you. “Oh, hey, there,” she waves at you casually. “What the fuck are you doing right now?” She laughs. “Why, I’m having sex—y’know, because you wouldn’t touch me.” You tilt your head so that you can look at the guy. “Who the fuck is that, even?” She shrugs. “I don’t know; I just met him last night.”

Jiho gets off the guy’s dick and makes her way towards you—you manage to catch a glimpse of his size, and he’s not even half as big as you are. “You’re mad, aren’t you?” You look at her in the eyes, trying your hardest to stay calm amidst the crazy turn of events. “I have some adjectives to describe my feelings right now.” She laughs, seemingly mocking you. “Well, should’ve not skipped touching your wife, then.”

Before you address this further, you gesture to the guy to leave because you don’t think he speaks the same language as you do. He says something when he passes you; not sure what, but the smirk on his face indicates that he probably said something dirty about you or Jiho. “Fuck you, asshole.” You punch him in the stomach, and when he bends because of the impact, you kick his butt like it was a soccer ball, officially kicking him out of your apartment.

With that guy out of the apartment, you turn your attention to your wife. “You look calm, but I can see smoke coming out of your ears.” You shove Jiho by her shoulders, thus making her fall backwards onto the bed. “Since when you turned into such a slut?” “Recently—you know, when you ignored me.” You furrow your eyebrows. “Ignored you? You said you were on period,” you argue. She laughs. “And you just believed me? You couldn’t be bothered to check with your own eyes?” You can’t believe your ears. “What was I supposed to do, pull your pants down? What if you had actually been on your period?”

Jiho makes another argument, but in your disinterested state of mind, you ignore her, opting to undress instead. “Wha-what are you doing?” “You said you wanted to be touched, didn’t you?” She gulps. “W-well, yes,” she’s starting to crack under the pressure. “W-wait, love, please listen to me.” You stop in your tracks. “What?” You can tell that her heart is racing. “Love, I-I’m sorry; I-I realized I’ve just made a fatal mistake.” You scoff. “You only said it because I caught you in action—did you enjoy it, by the way, because he was quite small,” you add a little taunt. She shakes her head, visibly scared of this side of you that she has never seen before. “I-I couldn’t even feel him, I swear!”

You quickly get on top of Jiho, her nervous, rapid breaths hitting your face endlessly. “What the fuck were you moaning for then, hm?” “Uh, uh, d-dramatic effects?” Your mind clouded by blind rage, you slap her on the cheek, thus leaving a big red mark on it. “Dramatic effects? What are you, a fucking porn star?” Jiho starts sobbing because of the sting��she’s debating whether it’s her face or her heart that’s in worse pain. “P-please, I-I didn’t enjoy it—I swear to God,” the sobs make her words sound less intelligible.

You stop for a moment. Deep inside, you’re trying so hard to regain control of your raging heart and mind. “You’re going to regret this, you know.” She nods. “I-I’m already regretting it, l-love.” You exhale deeply. “Don’t call me that.” Jiho hesitantly reaches for your face that’s hovering closely above hers. “B-but I love you; I-I really do.” You grab her wrists and slowly guide her hands off your face. “Why did you do that, then—why did you hurt me like that?” “I-I don’t know.”

You grab her ankles and fold her in half. “Do you know where this is going?” She nods. “C-claim me, my love.” You flinch a little when you hear the name. “Don’t fucking call me that, slut.” Jiho’s eyes widen in shock. “P-please don’t call me that.” “You don’t deserve love or honey, so I’m calling you a slut, and you’re going to fucking like it.”

Jiho lets out a moan when your cock suddenly enters her pussy. “M-make me yours again,” she says. She lets out another moan when the tip of your cock reaches her deepest spot. “Yes, just like that.”

You turn up the pace to the maximum that you’re able to do, using the feral flame of jealousy and anger in your heart as fuel. “Fucking slut,” you insult her, “I tried being respectful, and this is how you pay me back?” “L-love—nghk!” Her speech is interrupted due to your palm that’s choking her. “Shut the fuck up,” you growl.

You don’t know how long you’ve been fucking her like this, but one thing that’s sure is that orgasm is almost at the door. “C-cum inside a-and claim me back,” she urges. “You still dare making demands?” Jiho shakes her head. “I-I was just… s-saying—oh, fuck.”

You quickly pull out of her pussy and flip her onto her stomach. With your cock in hand, you guide it until the tip touches her rear entrance. “I should fuck you here, make it loose for anyone who comes after.” Jiho trembles. “I-I haven’t—w-we haven’t put anything in there.” You chuckle. “Is that so, because I could’ve sworn I saw that guy put his middle finger in your ass.” “Y-you saw—fuck!” You interrupt her with a smack to the butt. “I saw what?” Jiho fights through the pain. “Y-you saw wrong.”

“Close your eyes,” you command, and Jiho adheres right away; not only does she close her eyes, but she also presses her face into the bed. You hear a muffled gasp from her when your spit-coated thumb traces the shape of her forbidden hole. “You really had to wait until we’re in a foreign land to stab me in the back, huh?” “I’m sorry,” you hear a faint response from her. “I don’t know if an apology is sufficient, to be completely honest,” you say, your tone laden with sadness and disappointment. “Anyway, here I go.”

Jiho clenches her fist as she prepares to give up her virginity. “I guess this is how I die,” she thinks. Tears begin swarming out of her eyes again as the second wave of guilt crashes over her heart. “I’m so sorry, my love; I don’t know why I hurt you—you’ve been the best husband I could ever ask for.” Her body goes limp when the tip of your cock begins pushing into her. “Take me, my love; make me yours again.”

Jiho lets out a long moan when she feels you in her pussy instead of her ass. “L-love?” You pet her butt gently. “I might be angry, but I’m no degenerate.” A small smile is drawn on her face; you never do anything in bed without her consent, and even though your head is full of anger (that’s justified), the fact that you’re still firmly holding on to your principle is touching, if not admirable. “Y-yes, of course—y-you’re a great husband for me.” Jiho’s heart flutters when she sees a smile on your face, oblivious to what kind of thoughts are running rampant inside your head. “Oh, you’re so clueless, sweetheart,” you say internally.

You maintain a pace that’s rather relaxed, basking in the intimate moment of what might be the last you’ll have with her. “D-do you remember our first night?” “Before or after the wedding?” “Oh, God, b-before.” You take a quick trip to memory lane; you had sex multiple times on your first night with her, doing it in different positions, including the one you’re currently in right now. “I did,” you answer, “you also took me from behind.” She nods. “E-exactly.”

You don’t know Jiho is mentioning the past, so you ask. “I-I just wish I could go back to that night—I swear w-we were so in love.” You chuckle a bit. “And we’re no longer in love? Is that why you cheated on me?” A stray tear flows onto her cheek. “P-please, I-I know it was so wrong of me.” You close your eyes, your hips fully stopped. “Hindsight is always perfect, isn’t it?” Jiho nods again. “I-I wish—” You silence her with a soft shush. “The past is the past, and there’s nothing else that can be done right now.”

A few more thrusts and you’re ready to bust. “I’m close,” you say, your tone flat thanks to the realization that this is the end of your story. “Feel free to finish anywhere.” You lodge your cock deep inside her when you explode, sending your load right into her womb. Usually, you’d praise her as you cum, but this time, your tongue feels heavy, thus making you unable to say anything.

You pull out when you’re done spurting everything out, and some excess semen drips out of her. “Some things just don’t change,” you think.

You grab your clothes that are making a mess on the floor, putting them on one by one, and the sight makes Jiho start crying again. “W-where are you going?” “Home,” you give her a short answer. “B-but isn’t this our home?” You sigh. “Not anymore, no.”

Jiho completely breaks down. It is clear to her now that everything is doomed; she has messed up the marriage, and now, you’re leaving the relationship that has been nurtured for years. “At least clue me how I can fix this, please,” she begs. You wipe some tears off her cheeks with your thumbs, comforting her as much as you can. “You can’t, sweetheart.” Jiho flinches; you used to call her by that name when the two of you were dating. “Sometimes, sweetheart, sometimes good things fall apart, and you just can’t fix them.”

Jiho pecks the back of your hand. “I’m so sorry, my love,” she says tearily, fully in regret. You peck her on the forehead the same way you did on your first date. “Promise me that you’ll be safe and happy wherever you are.” She nods. “Y-you too, oppa.”

The way she’s sobbing as you walk away from you wrests your heart terribly, but what else is there to be done?

“The world is so damn cruel sometimes, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me, sir, but unless you’re waiting for a flight, you need to leave.” You rub your eyes to get yourself together. “Oh, no, I’m not waiting for a flight—I’ll leave after this,” you say. The guard gives you a little nod before walking away.

You walk out of the airport while thinking about the next course of action. You still have money that should be enough to live off for about a month. “If I can get a basement apartment, the money will last longer,” you think. Still in the theme of making sure the money lasts as long as it can, you decide to just walk towards the city instead of getting a cab.

You reach the edge of urban civilization after around a few thousand steps. There is an apartment building not too far ahead, and you hope that it has a cheap vacant unit in the basement that you can occupy.

“Good evening,” you greet the lady at the front desk, “is there a basement unit here?” Much to your delight and relief, there is. “You’re in luck; there’s only one left,” she says. “I’ll take that right now, please,” you say, not bothering to think twice. “Please have a seat while I take care of some stuff.”

It is when your butt lands on the steel bench that you start thinking about Jiho again.

“I’m letting you go, sweetheart—make sure you’re safe and happy, okay?”

The relationship started with you “stealing” her from her abusive ex-boyfriend, but even then, she had never fooled around with anyone else behind his back, so in your mind, you don’t think that she had any reason to hurt you. “I guess this is how it was meant for us,” you conclude.

The front desk lady calls your name, so you quickly approach her. “This is your contract, and if you accept, please sign down here.” You take the paper from her and start reading, carefully taking mental notes about the important points in the contract as you go. One of them says that management doesn’t cover anything if the unit happens to get drowned during a flood. “That’s quite the risk,” you think, but it’s not like you have too many options.

You read the whole contract once again to make sure you’re not missing anything, and now you’re confident enough to sign it. “It’s time to pay now, isn’t it?” The lady nods with a smile and pulls out an EDC machine, so you hand your card to her. Shortly after that, you’re told that you can enter your unit with the key in her hand. “Thank you so much.”

A small wave of sadness washes over your heart when you see the interior that only has one twin-sized mattress lying on the floor and a small wardrobe—your previous unit was fully furnished. “Round two of rags to riches, I guess.”

The first thing you do is lie down, of course. It’s been a very long day with work and Jiho, and you just want to catch your breath. “I’m just going to chill.”

You’ve arrived at Son Industries to look for a chance to be hired again, feeling much better now that you have clean clothes on your body. The decorations haven’t changed too much in the past year—the big sofa in the lobby has changed, though; it used to be beige, but now it’s a brown one. “Has to be Miss Son’s doing,” you think.

In terms of personnel, the person attending the front desk is no longer Mr. Bang that you were close with, and you don’t recognize this new person. Nonetheless, you muster up the courage to approach the woman. “Hello, good morning,” you greet her, “is the company open to walk-in interviews?” She blinks rapidly, a mix of confusion and startlement drawn on her face. “Erm, let me check first.”

The way the woman is scratching her temple isn’t a good sign for you; it doesn’t look like they’re currently open for people to walk in and ask to be interviewed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can accommodate you today.” You try your best to hide the sourness in your heart. “Ah, no worries; I shouldn’t have come without prior notice.” The woman asks for your contact information for future references, saying that the company will reach out to you should there be a job vacancy. Without wasting time, you write down your name, phone number, and email address on a piece of paper and hand it to her. “I can’t promise anything, though.” You nod. “No, no, it’s totally okay—thank you for the help!” You quickly part ways with her, smiling on your way out.

Your smile disappears when you reach the street again as nervousness begins filling your mind. The money you have won’t last too long at this point—you probably have around a week before you completely run out, and should that happen, you’ll be forced to live under a bridge or at a park somewhere.

You contemplate if you want to call Wendy right away but considering how long you’ve been away from her and who she is, she might have changed her number long ago. “This is a big city; surely there’s a chance for me somewhere,” you try to stay optimistic.

You take a lap around the central business district, and you happen to see a guy who’s busy sticking job vacancy pamphlets on light poles. You quickly cross the street to get to the pole and check out the pamphlet. You see that it’s from a record label startup companythat’s currently looking for both a chauffeur and a personal assistant for their newly appointed director. “Yeah, I can do that.”

You pull out your phone to check where the company is located, and you’re glad that it’s not too far away. You decide that you’re going to take the bus this time since you’ve had enough fun getting around the city on foot. Before that, though: “Mister, mister,” you chase him half running, “can I have one of that, please?” The guy nods and hands you one of the pamphlets. “Alright, thank you.”

Soon, you find yourself standing in front of an office building that’s smaller than the one Son Industries calls headquarters. Like before, you quickly enter and approach the front desk. “Excuse me, miss—I’m here for this,” you hold the pamphlet in the air for her to see. “Ah, of course,” she says, “chauffeur or assistant?” You’ve never been a chauffeur before, and as interesting as it sounds to change jobs, you’d rather play safe and become an assistant once more as you’re comfortable and confident in your experience and skills. “Assistant, please.”

The lady leaves her seat and asks you to follow her, and after a brief walk, you reach an empty room. “An interviewer will join you soon; please wait inside.” You thank her for the help and quickly settle in the room that only has some chairs and a desk. You’re experienced in being an assistant, so it’s odd that you’re nervous right now. “Man, what’s wrong with me,” you ask yourself.

Thankfully, salvation comes quickly in the form of two interviewers. “You must be our candidate,” the woman says, and you respond to her with a smile on your face. “I must say, mister, I’m quite giddy to see a candidate so soon.” You laugh a bit. “I am also quite giddy to get a job, miss.”

The two sit across the table from you. “My name is Shin Jimin, and this is Shin Sooin—can you introduce yourself a bit?” You nod. “My name is Jin Changmin, and I have decent experience under my belt after having worked for Son Industries for around 5 years.” Jimin beams. “Did you say Son Industries?” You nod again. “You know,” she starts, “I tried applying multiple times and could never make it past the interviews.” You chuckle. “Their HR could sometimes be… irritating.” The women laugh. “Sure, they are, mister.”

The interview doesn’t last too long. Because you’ve mentioned your experience working at Son Industries, which is well known in the eyes of the public, it convinces Jimin and Sooin that you’re the right hire. Also, at one point during the interview, it’s decided that the two women will start addressing you as oppa and you will address them casually from this point onwards.

“Oppa,” Sooin says, “are you free today, by any chance?” “You’re not inviting me to a date, are you,” you crack a little joke and are successful in making her laugh. “No, no, no; I’m just thinking that since you’re here, maybe you can start working for half a day—we’ll pay you accordingly, of course.” You nod. “I’m as free as it gets for an unemployed guy.”

Jimin excuses herself and has Sooin brief you on your tasks on your first (partial) day. “The director has a handful of things on his schedule today, so you’ll be following him around.” She hands you a tablet. “I didn’t see you carrying one, so use this, oppa.” You notice that it’s a newer model from the same brand you used to use when working under Wendy. “Alright, I’ll take you to the boss right now.”

Sooin takes you upstairs and knocks on the door for you. “Boss, he’s here.” “Yes, let him in, please,” you hear a woman’s voice from the other side, and the door swings open for you.

“Good—” Your speech is interrupted when you see who the boss is, your eyes wide open because of the shock. “I-is that—” “Leave us, Sooin-ah.” Sooin closes the door behind you, and you can hear her steps fading away. “I-I, erm,” you find it hard to speak right now.

The boss leaves her seat and approaches you, the sound of her heels deafening. “Hi, good morning—is it afternoon yet, actually?” You stay silent, trying your hardest to stay composed and professional. “Took you so long to get here; did you get lost in the way?” You respond by nodding. “Well, at least, you’re here now.”

The boss wraps her arms around your body, sharing her warmth with you. “Welcome back, oppa.” You garner your courage to hug her back. “M-Miss Son,” you say almost in a whisper. You hear a chuckle from her. “You still remember my name, huh?” You nod. “How can I ever forget about you?”

Wendy pulls away from the embrace, and that’s when you see her glassy eyes. “How long have you been away from me, oppa?” “A little over a year,” you answer. “That’s too long, don’t you think?” You nod slightly. “I-I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “Well, at least you’re here now.”

Wendy invites you to sit on the sofa in her office. “I feel like you have so much to tell me, but I have a lot of work today.” You take a deep breath to clear your mind. “I’m here for you, Miss Son.” She chuckles. “Yeah, and I’m not letting you go ever again, just so we’re clear.”

Wendy returns to her big director chair. “Come here, please; let’s talk about your tasks.” You quickly stand up and sit in front of her for your briefing. “Yes, Miss Son.” Wendy is getting goosebumps; she hasn’t had anyone who is as ready as you are when it comes to work, and she’s struggling to keep a straight face. “Oh my God, I’ve missed this,” she thinks.

“Do you mind driving?” You take the key from her and notice that it’s different. “New car, Miss Son?” She sighs. “I totaled the Genesis.” Your eyebrows furrow involuntarily. “You did what?” “Look, I was sleepy, alright—I wasn’t under any influence.” You don’t continue the subject, opting to get in the car and turn it on instead so you can take her to her destination.

You open the back seat door for her, but she declines; she says she’ll sit next to you. “I want to… y’know, be close to you.” You pretend like you don’t notice the subtle blush on her cheeks and simply help her get in the car. “Are we ready, Miss Son?” She nods, her face decorated with a smile. “Yes, we are.”

It is when you’re stopped at a red light that Wendy initiates a conversation. “Oppa, can you share a bit of your story?” You sigh heavily. “I suppose,” you start, “Jiho cheated on me, Miss Son, so I left her.” Wendy falls silent, not expecting such an answer from you. “I caught her having sex with some stranger she claimed she had met the previous night,” you pile on, and you can see on the edge of your vision that Wendy’s face has turned sour. “I’ve moved on now, so don’t worry about my performance at work.”

“She never deserved you.”

You turn your head to look at her. “Excuse me?”

“She never deserved you; I’ve always had a feeling that you were too good for her, oppa.”

You don’t know if you’re offended or not; at one point in your life, Jiho was the best partner you could’ve ever asked for, and a part of you is still hanging on to that, hoping that she’s still the same person you fell in love with, even though you’ve parted ways with her.

“Miss Son, please don’t talk about her like that.”

“Am I wrong, though?”

You exhale deeply. “Miss Son, please.”

“Ugh, fine—forget I said anything.”

“What about you, Miss Son,” you try changing the subject, “did you leave Son Industries?” “Yes and no,” she says, “I’m trying to establish a record label as a subsidiary, but I’ve left my post at Son Industries.” You nod. “I assume you’ve left your old assistant to work under the new director of Son Industries?” Wendy shakes her head. “I never hired another assistant after you left, so whoever is replacing me must bring their own right-hand.”

You see an opportunity to make a joke and lighten the mood a bit. “You learned how to be independent, didn’t you?” Wendy smacks you on the shoulder. “Just so you know, it was so damn rough; I realized I had been relying on you too much.”

“Miss Son, we’re here,” you tap her forearm to wake her up, and after a moment of grunting and yawning, she’s awake. “Can I ask what we’re doing here, Miss Son?” “This is—” A yawn interrupts her. “This is a dance studio, and we’re here to look at some trainees.”

You help her get out of the car, and Wendy promptly wraps an arm around yours. “Let’s go find some recruits,” she says, her voice laden with excitement.

There are a man and a woman walking out of the building to greet the two of you. “Miss Son, this way, please; the trainees are waiting for you,” the man says. “They’re skipping school, Mr. Jo?” He chuckles nervously. “Erm, sort of—they said they want to maximize their chances to be recruited, so some skipped school and some others called in sick.”

You and co. enter a practice room that’s filled with a bunch of teenage girls. They greet you repeatedly, and you make sure to reply to each one properly. Based on their sweat-drenched forehead and clothes, you can tell that they’ve been practicing a lot prior to your arrival.

“Girls, this is your future boss, Miss Wendy Son from Son Media Group.” Wendy waves at them, showing kindness so that they don’t get more nervous or scared than they already are. “Miss Son, they’ve prepared a performance for you—please kindly watch them perform.”

You take a seat in front of the girls with Wendy next to you. You notice that each trainee is wearing a name tag, so you quickly write them down on your tablet since she will likely want you to make notes based on her assessments.

Wendy starts getting excited when the song starts playing over the speakers. “She must know this song,” you guess. As time goes by, she keeps making these expressions that you don’t know the meaning of—you can tell that she’s enjoying the moment, though.

Your attention is stolen when Wendy taps your arm repeatedly. “Pay attention,” she whispers to you, so you lock in to the performance.

You push and pull me like gravity

I fall for you, every part of me

You push and pull me like gravity

Insanity

I’m losing my mind

Wendy squeezes your arm, her face bright and beaming, visibly impressed by the performance she’s watching. You look at her from the side, admiring her passion and ever-positive attitude for everything that’s in front of her. “By God, I’ve missed this, Miss Son.”

The cover soon ends, leaving Wendy in awe. You, on the other hand, are not too well-versed in music, but you still clap along with her. “I have good feelings about these girls,” she whispers to you. “I believe your judgment, Miss Son.” She pinches your arm lightly. “You’re such an enabler, aren’t you?” You chuckle. “I mean, it’s not like you’ve dragged us down a pit, is it?”

The guy running the studio asks for Wendy’s attention, but she dismisses him (gently and politely), opting to speak to the girls right away instead. “So, girls,” she begins, “how bad do you want this?” The question has the girls looking at each other in confusion, and it takes a while until one of them dares lift her hand. “I, erm, I want it so bad, miss, b-but I don’t know if I’m good enough.” Wendy smiles, kindness exuding from her face. “If I remember correctly, you did the low register during the chorus, didn’t you?” The girl nods to Wendy’s question. “I personally think you did very well, so don’t sell yourself short like that, especially if you want to debut as an idol.”

The girl looks down to hide her shy grin, and that’s when Wendy shifts her attention to the rest of the trainees. She asks each girl a simple question, nodding to their answers no matter how good or bad they are. “You all need PR training,” she makes a little joke and is met with nervous laughter. “Anyway,” Wendy leaves her seat, “I’ll get going now; I have some other places I need to visit, and I’ll be in touch very soon.”

It's starting to rain quite heavily when you step outside the studio. “C’mon, quick,” Wendy rushes towards the car, so you quickly follow her. “Where do we go now, Miss Son?” “I wanted to grab something to eat, but I guess not—let’s head back to the office for now.”

The rain gets even heavier as you drive through the city, water hitting the roof of your car like punches from the grey skies. “Rain sounds scary sometimes, doesn’t it?” You sigh nervously. “It doesn’t help that I live in an underground apartment.” Wendy furrows her eyebrows. “You do? Why?” “Because I wanted to save money,” you answer plainly. “Yeah, well, you’re going to leave that apartment after this.”

The radio stops its usual broadcast to make room for an emergency announcement. It says that residents should watch out for flash floods considering the suddenness and volume of the rain. You inhale and exhale deeply as you try to stay focused. “I can hear that, you know.” You don’t respond, too busy trying to keep calm and collected. “Oppa, did you hear me?” “Oh, yeah, yeah,” you blurt, “just a bit, erm, nervous.”

Wendy looks at you from the side. “What valuables do you keep at your apartment?” You list the items for her: your passport, cash, important documents, and lastly but definitely as important, clothes. You’d have nothing to wear if they were damaged by a flood, and that would be bad on its own. “Let’s go save your stuff.” “You don’t mind taking a detour?” You ask to make sure, and your assurance comes in the form of her insisting. “Yeah, okay.”

Instead of going straight at the intersection, you make a right turn to head to your apartment. “Don’t kill us,” Wendy warns, getting nervous just by the way you’re zipping through traffic. “Don’t worry, Miss Son,” you assure her. Wendy tightens her grip on the grab handle, not convinced with your words.

You stop on the side of the road and jump out of the car right after it’s stopped. “Oppa, wait!” You hear her, but you ignore her; your mind is focused on saving your valuables from your underground apartment that’s about to drown.

You get nervous when you reach the underground floor that is filled with water as high as your calves. “Oh, hell, no.” You step through the water and stop in front of your unit. After fishing the key out of your back pocket, you push the door open, fighting the force of nature.

The wardrobe is your first destination. You keep your clothes on the top shelves, so they’re not wet in the slightest. “Just grab what you can!” You’re surprised to see that Wendy is also down here with you. “This first!” You pass a small laptop bag that’s full of personal documents over to her before grabbing your clothes and pants. “Let’s get out,” she urges, so you follow her back upstairs to street level.

You shove your belongings into the second row of the car, not worrying about whether the clothes are wrinkled or not; the fact that they’re not drowned is good enough for you. “Goodness me,” Wendy says breathily, “say, how long have you been living there?” “A-about a year,” you reply just as breathily. “You’re not going to live in such a place ever again.” You nod. “I hope so.”

You stay in the car with Wendy until the pants stop. “Drive,” she says. “Where to?” “Just fucking drive, will you?” She doesn’t use profanities very often, and truthfully, you’re surprised and concerned, but that doesn’t stop you from following her orders. “Of course.”

Wendy pulls out her phone and gets on a call with someone. “It’s time—prepare the haven,” she says. The person on the other side of the call must know what to do as the call takes but a few seconds. Oddly enough, you hear the person congratulate Wendy right before she hangs up. “The haven, Miss Son?” She lets out a deep exhale. “You heard me,” she says, “now follow this route.” You see that the car’s head unit has been updated; you’re currently 21 minutes away from your destination. “Yes, Miss Son.”

The GPS says that your destination is on your left, and when you look out the window, it’s a typical high-rise apartment building. “We’re here, Miss Son” you notify her. “Yeah, I can see that,” she replies uncharacteristically. “Let’s get out.” She grabs an umbrella from the glovebox and hands it to you, so like a proper chauffeur, you step out of the car and hold the black umbrella for her outside of her door. “

You walk with her into the building, only putting down the umbrella when you’re covered by the big canopy. “Miss Son,” a woman at the front desk greets her, “the haven is ready for use.” Wendy simply puts up a thumb and walks fast towards the elevator, and you make sure that you’re following closely behind her.

Instead of pressing a button to head to a certain level, Wendy places her thumb on the little scanner. “Miss Son, would you kindly elaborate?” She glares at you. “Just shut the fuck up, please.” You gulp to swallow the unease that’s stuck in your throat. “Y-yes, madam.” You keep an eye on the level indicator above the elevator doors as it takes you upstairs beyond the listed floors.

The doors soon slide open, and you find yourself standing in front of a brown door. You want to ask what all of this means, but before you can open your mouth, you’re reminded that she has told you to “shut the fuck up” a minute ago. “Follow me,” she says, so you do just that. Once again, she places her thumb on the scanner below the door handle, and you hear the door unlock. “Follow me,” she says once more as she pushes the door open.

You involuntarily let out a wow; in front of your eyes is a big, fancy penthouse that has everything anyone could possibly need. A full-size kitchen, check; a living room with big sofas and a wallpaper TV, check; a chandelier that costs more than your net worth, check.

“Erm, Miss Son, if I may?” Wendy shakes her head. “Take a seat first,” she says, so you sit down on one of the big armchairs. Once the two of you are ready to talk, you initiate a conversation again. “Miss Son, what is this place, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She smiles a little.

“This is our home.”

You want to shove your fist into your ears and expand them just so you can be sure that you didn’t hear her wrong.

“Pardon me?”

“This is our home, oppa; this is the haven I spoke about.”

You blink, and blink, and blink, and blink—you’re highly unsure if you’re understanding this correctly.

“W-what do you mean this is our home?”

Wendy leaves her seat, opting to make herself comfortable on your lap instead. “From this hour, this minute, and this second, you belong to me, and I belong to you.” “M-Miss Son—” “You’re not tied to that Jiho bitch anymore, but we are tied together.” “M-Miss Son, I—”

A hard slap lands square on your cheek, the sound of the impact echoing throughout the penthouse. “I-I hate—” Wendy starts breaking down. “I-I hate that you left this country f-for that good-for-nothing bitch; I-I hate that you fucking left me, oppa.” You instinctively run your hand along her back softly the same way you used to do it with Jiho whenever she was feeling terrible. “Y-you could’ve stayed here, oppa—fuck, you could’ve married me instead.”

You take a few deep breaths to clear your mind and get a grip on the situation. “Wendy,” you say in a very, very soft tone, “what are you talking about right now?” Still unable to stop crying, Wendy presses her face onto your chest, possibly soaking your only white shirt with her tears. “I-I love you, oppa—I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you, b-but… but you loved her.”

You pull her into a tight hug while tears continue to flow out her eyes, and it’s getting really hard to stay solid. You keep rubbing her back mindlessly because your mind is busy imagining what things could’ve been like had you understood her feelings—you could’ve saved yourself from the heartbreak that was catching Jiho cheating.

Wendy lets out a gasp when you lift her by her thighs. “W-what are you doing?” “We’re going to talk, but we’ll get comfortable first.” She hides her face in your chest again after getting an answer. “Okay.”

You let out a chuckle when you see the insides of the bedroom. “I forget how rich you are sometimes.” You hear a small chuckle from the woman in your arms. “I wanted a proper space for us.” “Oh, it’s proper, alright.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, and you swear Wendy just let out a purr. “Are you comfortable, love?” She shifts around to make sure she’s as close as she can be to you; her hands are on your nape, and her legs that are locked around your body complete the embrace. “Yes, I am.” “Great,” you reply, “well, here I go.”

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help

Falling in love with you

Confusion is drawn clearly on Wendy’s face, not expecting in the slightest that you’ll sing for her. “What the hell,” she mouths inaudibly.

Shall I stay

Would it be a sin

If I can’t help

Falling in love with you

“Continue,” she mouths once again.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

You pause for a moment; to prepare for the next part of the song, you take her hands in yours to capture the emotions.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help

Falling in love with you

“Goodness me,” Wendy wipes her tears with a smile on her face, “I-I didn’t know you could sing this well.” You chuckle a little. “That’s the only song I can sing.” She laughs. “I fear the man who has practiced one kick ten thousand times, or so they say,” she replies.

Wendy looks at you with a beautiful smile drawn on her face. “Yes, love?” She points at something over her shoulder. “You see that?” You look at what her thumb is pointed at—it’s a mug with random gold seams all over it. “What about it?” “I destroyed that mug after reading your letter, so I sent it to a kintsugi artist and had it repaired.”

You sigh. “Did I hurt you with that letter?” She nods. “It hurt so bad, you know.” You apologize, but she declines. “You promised you’d return, and now you’re here, so it’s all good.” Your gaze lands on the mug with gold stripes again, a manifestation of her mended heart. “I’m here to stay, love, and I hope you are too.” Wendy gives you a peck on the side of your neck. “This is what I’ve been hoping for; I’m not letting this go easily.”

The two of you keep your gazes locked on each other’s. “Help,” she says, “I need a segue.” You chuckle. “Segue to what, love?” “To you taking my flower.” Your eyebrows rise. “Your… flower?” She pinches your cheek. “Don’t play dumb; you know what I’m talking about.” You gently guide her hand off your face. “I just didn’t know you’ve never done it before.” Wendy shrugs. “You never asked, so I never said anything.” You take your turn to pinch her cheek. “You’re my boss—how could I ever ask about such a thing, hm?” A fleeting kiss lands on your lips. “I’m no longer your boss, oppa; from today, you’re my, erm, boyfriend.” You notice the way her cheeks are turning red. “I don’t mean to rush, but I have a feeling that we’ll be more than that.” A sheepish smile appears on her face. “I-I’ll hold you to that.”

You help Wendy lie down in the middle of this huge bed. “Oppa,” she calls to you, “you’re mine, aren’t you?” You answer her by pecking her on the lips. “But I want to hear you say it.” You smile. “My heart belongs to you, but legally, I’m still married to Jiho.” Her face turns sour. “I don’t want to hear that name.” You slap yourself internally for being careless with your words. “Sorry, love,” you clear your throat, “yes, I’m yours.”

Her face is adorned with a beautiful smile.

“Then take me.”

You reach for the first button on her shirt, and that’s when you notice her fast breaths. “You’re nervous, aren’t you, love?” She nods wordlessly. “I promise I’ll be nice and gentle,” you assure her. Wendy holds your wrists as a gesture of calling a timeout. “Y-you’ll be my first and my last, so please take care of me.” You assure her once more that you’ll prioritize her over yourself before continuing to undo her buttons.

The sight of Wendy’s partially naked being has you breathing rapidly. “You look very good, love” you praise her. She looks away to hide her shyness. “I-I try to stay in good shape—y’know, just in case.” You see an opportunity to mess with her a bit. “Just in case what, sweetheart? Just in case you want to do it with some rich executive?” Wendy lets out a gasp, seemingly offended. “I’m not cheap,” she says. “I know, sweetheart; I was just messing with you.”

The last button of her one-piece dress is finally undone. “Help me take it off, oppa,” she says, so you hold the end of the dress and lift upwards until she’s free. Wendy instinctively covers her breasts and crotch, not used to being exposed in front of a man. “You’ve really never done this before, have you?” She shakes her head, her cheeks painted bright red. “T-this is embarrassing.” You gently pull her arms away and set them on the bed. “You have nothing to be embarrassed for, love.” Wendy still avoids eye contact. “I-i-it’s your turn to u-undress.”

You swiftly take off your shirt, opting to just pull it over your head instead of spending too much time undoing the buttons.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Her gaze slowly shifts to meet yours. “Y-yes?” “Do you want to take off my pants?” Wendy looks at you nervously. “Erm, I don’t know—should I?” You say that she should only do it if she wants to. Wendy says she wants to try, so you guide her hands towards your belt. “Don’t worry, I’ll cooperate,” you say.

Wendy undoes your belt and follows it up by sliding your zipper downwards. It so happens that the back of her hand touches the underside of your hard-but-constrained cock. “Oh, that’s… erm, hard.” Her candid comment forces a laugh out of you. “And it’s all yours, love.”

You take off your pants so that Wendy has access to your boxers, and without thinking too much, she pulls them down. “Oh my God,” she exclaims, “t-that looks like it’s going to hurt.” You nod. “It will, but we’ll get through it together, love.”

You ask if you can take off Wendy’s panties, and only when you’re given permission that you slide them off. “I-I’ll shave for you next time.” “Oh, don’t worry about it; you’re pretty like this.” “What are you—oh, God, fuck!” Wendy grips the sheets in shock when your finger lands on her nub. “Next time, tell me what you’re about to do, okay?” You chuckle. “Sorry, I forgot you’re inexperienced.”

You make sure you’re right on top of Wendy, shifting here and there to get comfortable. “Love,” you call to her, “are you—” “Yes, I’m ready.” The way she answers before you finish asking tells you that not only is she ready, but she is also eager. “Alright, let’s do it, then.”

Wendy inhales sharply when the tip of your cock touches her sealed entrance. “Wait, wait, wait,” she panics, “c-can I be on top?” From experience, you know that it’s better for a woman to be on top first since she’ll be able to go at it at her own pace. “Of course, love.”

You swap positions with her, lying down on the bed to give her the chance to ride you, and Wendy immediately moves to sit on your lap. “Be careful, love.” She simply nods to your advice as her eyes are locked on your cock that’s pointed straight at the ceiling. “That’s definitely not intimidating at all—that’s a source of pleasure,” she consoles herself.

Wendy plants her hands on your stomach as she aims your cock at her entrance. Her hips slowly descend until the tip pokes her innocence. “T-that’s good, right?” You nod. “You’re alright, baby; take your time.”

Wendy grits her teeth as her pussy is getting stretched by a penis for the very first time. You place your hands on her hips, ready to guide her should she need it. “You’re alright, love,” you repeat. Fueled by your encouragement, she continues making her way down.

“Fuck!”

A curse flies out of her lips, and when you look down, there’s blood dripping down your shaft—dear God, she’s so, so tight, too. Up top, tears are dropping down her plump cheeks, visibly in pain and discomfort. “It hurts, it hurts,” she repeats with shaky voice. “My love, my love,” you call to her, “let me hold you, please.” Wendy lies down on your body, and the sobs become clearer for you to hear. “You’re okay, love; you’re doing so, so well right now.” She nods, her cheek rubbing against yours. “Y-you’re my first, oppa.” You peck her on the cheek. “And you’re my last, my love.”

You’ve been letting Wendy stay in your arms for the past few minutes. “Does it still hurt?” You hear a sniffle from her. “N-not really,” she says, “I-I think it’s starting to feel better.” You try moving your hips upwards, and it relieves you when she lets out a moan. “Was that good?” “Yes,” she replies. You thrust upwards once again, and Wendy lets out another moan. “I-I’m so full, oppa.” It’s a simple comment made in the heat of the moment, but nonetheless, it bloats your ego as proven by your little smirk. “I’m glad I can satisfy you, love.”

You maintain this relaxed pace, your ears filled with her soft moans. “That’s good, isn’t it, love?” “I-it is,” she says. “Do you think you can move by yourself?” “M-maybe.” You help Wendy straighten her posture, and the first thing she looks at is the way you and her are connected. “S-so much blood,” she comments. Your hand reaches towards her face, stroking her cheek softly. “I’m honored to be your first, love.” Wendy smiles amidst the discomfort that’s gradually becoming tolerable. “And I’m happy that you’re my first, because I love you so much.”

With her palms planted on your stomach, Wendy lifts her butt before dropping down again. “Oh, fuck, so big,” she blurts. It is when she picks up the pace that you let go of the controls, letting your head sink into the big pillow. “You’re so tight, love,” you say with your eyes closed, your eyelids too heavy to open. “M-must be the kegel,” she replies. You chuckle. “Perhaps.”

It appears that Wendy has gotten used to having a cock in her judging by how assertive she is now. One thing, though: she looks to be tired and out of breath. You ask if she wants to change position, and she immediately says yes. “Lie down, sweetheart; let me take over.”

With her lying down, you’re now able to look at her freshly deflowered pussy; there’s blood everywhere—some of it even splattered on the insides of her thighs. “I wasn’t even Jiho’s first,” you think. You quickly throw that thought away; this is the least appropriate time to think about anyone else but Wendy.

You take position between her legs, your face hovering closely over hers. “Hi, oppa,” she greets you with a smile. “Hi to you too, my love—having a good time?” She laughs. “I am, now that it doesn’t hurt too much.” You give her a peck on the lips. “Shall we keep going?” She nods, and you waste little time to enter her pussy again. “Oh, yes, just like that.”

Now that you’re on top, you’re able to kiss her as your cock moves in and out of her tightness. “I love you, Wendy.” She shakes her head. “W-Wendy is for work—to you, I’m Seungwan-ie.” As far as you know, there are only a handful of people who have the right to call her by that name, and you’re honored to be one of them. “Of course, love.”

You’ve been maintaining this tempo for a solid period of time, and you can sense that your orgasm is approaching fast. “Love, I won’t last long,” you announce. Wendy responds by nodding. “Make me yours, oppa.” You ask if you can turn up the speed on this final stretch, and Wendy gives you permission to do so.

With every thrust she’s taking, Wendy lets out moans that are like music to your ears. “I love you so much,” you say. “I-I love you too,” she replies. You can feel yourself throbbing in her pussy, so you announce once more that you’re about to finish. “Y-yes, g-give it to me,” she urges.

Right before you start spurting semen into her, you come in for a kiss, aiming to maximize the feelings aspect on her first time. You let out a small grunt into the kiss as semen begins flowing out of your cock and into her pussy. On the other hand, Wendy lets out a long moan. “S-so warm,” she comments. Once every last drop of your cum leaves your cock, you gently pull out of her.

You fell asleep at one point during the cuddle, only waking up because Wendy kept tapping your arm. “Was it that good that you fell asleep?” You chuckle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you alone like that.” Wendy giggles. “You really enjoyed taking my flower, huh?” You give her a peck on the cheek. “Of course.”

You ask if Wendy wants to get cleaned up, and since she says yes, you take her in your arms so that you can help her clean up in the bathroom.

“Where’s the bathroom, by the way?” She points at a closed door next to the bed. “Oh, I thought that was a walk-in closet or something like that.” She slaps you on the chest. “What closet have you seen has a mat in front of it?” You shrug. “I mean, I wouldn’t know, would I?”

You help her take a seat on the toilet since she says she wants to pee. Wendy’s face contorts as she pees, visibly in discomfort. “That hurts, doesn’t it, baby?” She sighs. “It feels weird—it’s like there’s a big hole between my legs.” You offer her some assurance, adding touches for good measure. “Thank you, oppa, seriously.” You put on a gentle smile. “Thank you to you as well, love.”

You guide her towards the shower to continue the process. You take some water in your hand and rub her pussy softly, thus getting some blood on your hand. “That will stop soon, right?” You can hear the concern in her voice. “Yes, it will—don’t worry, though; I’m with you every step of the way.”

You continue to the next step, which is to help her take a bath. “Turn around and place your hands on the wall, please.” Wendy does as you ask, and when you’re busy getting liquid soap on your hands, she teases you by hitting your cock with her butt. “I want to take you like this next time, oppa,” she already has plans for the next session. You laugh. “We’ll see what we can do, love.”

You’re lying on your back in this comfortable bed with Wendy in your arms, hugging you from the side. “What is in that head of yours, oppa?” You quickly assemble an answer for her. “To say that I’m happy is a huge understatement, but I am indeed happy.” Wendy gives you a peck on the side of your neck. “If only I could string together words to express my feelings,” she replies. You peck her on the top of her head. “You don’t have to, love; I can feel your love just like this.”

Wendy asks if you can describe what her love feels like. “I don’t care if this sounds cheesy, but it feels like warm sunlight in the morning; it’s so comforting, and it tells you that everything is going to be okay.” She giggles. “Everything is indeed going to be okay, oppa; we’re going to conquer the world together.”

You spoon her when she turns around. “Look at the moon, oppa” she points out the window. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it—imagine sitting in the riverside under this moon.” She sighs deeply. “I haven’t had time to enjoy life, and now that you’re here with me, I think this is a good time to start.” You rub her belly softly. “We’re going to have a good life together, love, so God help me.”

Wendy turns her head to look at you. “Hey, uh, can we do another round?” You burst out laughing. “Yes, but let’s rest for now; you just had your first time.” She pouts. “But I want to do it again.”

You make use of the fact that the two of you are completely naked and plunge into her from behind, thus earning a moan from her. “Oh, yeah, just like that, oppa.” You thrust into her once and get another moan. “Keep going, please,” she urges. “Round two, then?” She nods enthusiastically. “After this, we’re going to do another round.” You chuckle. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, baby.”

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut #red velvet smut

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