#but i still have to take care of the other type of class | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kiszjuli · 2 months ago

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𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 ──── [𝐋.𝐃𝐇] 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

( 이동혁 ) ; 𝐟𝐞𝗺!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝗼𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐜𝐤

──── in which your parents had always told you to stay away from boys like haechan. boys with cocky smirks, black eye liner, bruised knuckles, and a reputation that came with warning labels. you never had a reason to listen until you were assigned to tutor him after school. it should have been simple. help him pass, get it over with. but there’s something about him that drew you in, and you didn’t want to pull away.

✦ drama, fluff/angst, slow burn(ish). forbidden love? ; tags. goodgirl!reader x badboy!haechan, suggestive, your parents are literal jerks, swearing, mentions of fighting, kissing !!, protective!haechan, corruption? but not really, lmk if i missed any ! ;

𓂃 w.c [ 15.3k / 22.7k ]

!! not proofread !!

▸ j.note ; i hadn’t planned on making this fic so long but emo haechan does something to me i guess. also pls pls give feedback i want to improve my writings in the best way possible and i know my writing needs a lot of work, so constructive criticism is encouraged.

▸ this is part one of two and part two can be found here .ᐟ

you had never been the type to chase trouble.

your life had always been structured, predictable, mapped out like a perfectly folded brochure of all the things you were supposed to be. the good daughter. the responsible student. the girl who never gave anyone a reason to worry.

your parents raised you with expectations as solid as the fence that surrounded your house. good grades, early curfews, polite smiles at dinners. you were the kind of girl who double-checked her answers before turning in a test, who texted home before she was even late, who never spoke back even when she wanted to.

it wasn’t that you minded. not really.

your life was safe—comfortable.

weekends were spent with the same close friends, at the same coffee shop on the corner, drinking the same latte every time and reviewing notes for exams that were still weeks away. after school, you went straight home, sometimes stopping by the bookstore if you had extra time, flipping through pages of novels where the main characters lived lives far more reckless than your own.

and you liked it that way. you liked knowing where you belonged, knowing exactly what came next.

because trouble was for other people. rule-breakers, risk-takers. the kind of people who never thought twice about consequences. people who didn’t care.

the kind of people like him. lee donghyuck—or as he preferred to be called, haechan.

lee donghyuck had always been a name whispered in the hallways, wrapped in either amusement or warning. he was the boy who skipped class but somehow still seemed to do well, the boy who wore silver rings on his fingers, black eyeliner and bruises on his knuckles, the boy who flirted with everyone but never let anyone close.

he was reckless in a way that made people watch him like a fire they couldn’t look away from.

and you? you were the girl who had spent her whole life avoiding flames.

—

science had always been your best subject.

there was something reassuring about it—formulas that always worked, reactions that could be predicted, rules that never changed. if you followed the steps, you got the right answer. it was logical. reliable.

but not everyone saw it that way.

from the back of the classroom, haechan let out a quiet sigh, loud enough that a few students glanced his way. he was slouched over his desk, barely pretending to take notes, the end of his pen tapping lazily against his open textbook.

“can anyone explain why increasing the concentration of reactants speeds up a chemical reaction?” the teacher asked.

your hand went up without hesitation.

“because a higher concentration means more particles in the same space,” you answered. “so there’s a greater chance of collisions between them.”

“correct,” your teacher said, nodding approvingly.

from the corner of your eye, you caught movement. haechan had lifted his head just enough to glance in your direction, his gaze slow and assessing. when you turned to meet it, he didn’t look away, but just studied you, the corner of his lips twitching like he was in on some joke you weren’t part of.

your teacher moved on, scribbling equations across the board, but haechan didn’t so much as pretend to care. he stretched, tipping his chair back onto two legs, hands folded lazily over his stomach, like he was just waiting for the bell to save him from all of this.

you turned back toward the front, exhaling through your nose. it annoyed you, yet you didn’t know why.

it didn’t matter, it had nothing to do with you.

he didn’t matter.

or at least, that’s what you had always thought until today.

—

you were halfway through packing your books when you heard your name.

“could you stay back for a moment,” your teacher said, just as the last bell rang.

you paused, glancing up as students shuffled past your desk, their conversations blending into white noise. you couldn’t think of a single reason you’d need to stay—your grades were perfect, your assignments were always on time, and you definitely didn’t cause any trouble.

but then the teacher said another name.

“donghyuck, you too.” you heard him correct the teacher of his name under his breath.

your fingers curled around the thick textbook you were shoving in your bag.

he was slouched at his desk, twirling a silver ring around his finger, eyes half-lidded like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. it took him a second to react, but when he did, it was with an exaggerated sigh, dragging himself upright like even this was too much effort.

the classroom emptied around you until it was just the three of you, the weight of the silence settling in as the teacher folded her arms over her desk.

“haechan,” she started, “you’re failing. if you don’t pass your next exam, you’re going to have to repeat this class. and you know what that means.”

he leaned back on the closest desk to the teacher’s, completely unfazed, crossing his arms. “that i get the pleasure of spending another semester with you?”

your teacher didn’t so much as blink. “it means you will not graduate with your class. you need this credit.”

that got a reaction. his arms uncrossed as haechan’s smirk slipped, just slightly.

“which is why,” she continued, turning to you, “you’re going to tutor him.”

your mouth parted slightly. “wait—”

“you’re the top of this class,” she cut in, before you could protest. “if anyone can help him pass, it’s you.”

you swallowed. the request made sense—on paper. but logic didn’t stop the heat of his gaze as it flickered toward you, as he finally seemed to take you in.

slowly, he let his eyes drag up and down, taking his time.

your unwrinkled clothes. your neatly done hair. the way you clutched your bag like it was a lifeline.

his lips curled at the edges, something amused, something almost lazy, and yet, you felt it. the weight of being looked at like that.

“seriously?” he drawled, tilting his head, eyes still on you. “her?”

your spine straightened. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he smiled like he’d already won. “nothing, sweetheart.”

your teacher exhaled sharply, already tired of him. “this isn’t optional. you’ll meet and study together, and if i hear that you’ve skipped even once, i will not hesitate to let you keep your failing grade. understood?”

haechan sighed, tipping his head back like this was the greatest inconvenience of his life. then, with the ghost of a smirk still tugging at his lips, he muttered, “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

you could already tell. this was going to be impossible.

—

you walk out of the classroom first, stepping a little harder than intended. this wasn’t how you planned to spend your semester. tutoring some guy who didn’t even try, who slouched in his seat like he was too good for all of it, who looked at you like you were something to be amused by.

the hallway was mostly empty now, students already heading home or to their next activities. you were almost free, when a voice called out behind you.

“so, tutor, when do we start?”

you didn’t stop walking. “the library. after school tomorrow.”

haechan caught up easily, his pace unhurried, like this was all some joke to him. “ugh, the library?” he groaned. “how predictable.”

you glanced at him, unimpressed. “where else are we supposed to study? a convenience store?”

“actually, yeah.” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, shooting you a smirk. “sounds more fun. we could get snacks. maybe a drink. aren’t tutors supposed to motivate their students?”

you exhaled sharply. he’s messing with you. you knew it, and yet, somehow, he still got under your skin.

“you don’t need motivation,” you said flatly. “you just need to study.”

“eh, debatable,” he mused. “i think what i need is a tutor who’s a little more flexible. less ‘strict teacher,’ more ‘cute classmate who wants to help me succeed.’”

you stopped walking.

haechan took a few more steps before realizing you weren’t next to him anymore. he turned, an eyebrow raised, just as you crossed your arms.

“okay, let’s get something straight,” you said, voice firm. “this isn’t a favor. i don’t want to tutor you, but i have to. and i don’t care if you think it’s boring or predictable, because it’s either this or you fail. so if you actually want my help, show up tomorrow. on time. otherwise, don’t waste my time.”

for a second, he just looked at you, head tilted like he was reevaluating something.

then, instead of answering, he let his gaze drag over you, slowly, like he was seeing you for the first time.

you stiffened under the weight of it, but refused to look away.

after a beat, he grinned.

“damn,” he murmured, almost to himself. “you’ve got a little fire under all that perfection, huh?”

you huffed, turning on your heel. “just be there.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you ignored him.

but as you walked away, you could still feel his smirk and stare burning into your back.

—

you barely stepped through the front door before your mom called out from the kitchen.

“you’re home later than usual.”

you set your bag down by the entryway, slipping off your shoes. “the teacher kept me after class.”

that was enough to get both of your parents’ attention. your dad looked up from where he sat on the couch, while your mom leaned against the counter, a slight crease forming between her brows.

“for what?” she asked, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

you exhaled, already bracing yourself. “she assigned me to tutor someone. he’s failing, and she thinks I can help him pass.”

your dad hummed approvingly. “well, that’s nice of you. who is it?”

you hesitated for half a second.

“haechan.”

the shift in the room was immediate. your mom stilled, and your dad turned completely this time, exchanging a glance with her before turning back to you.

“him?” your mom repeated, her voice careful.

“yes, him.” you folded your arms. “why does it sound like you already know who he is?”

your dad sighed, setting the paper aside. “people talk, sweetheart. he’s got a reputation.”

you rolled your eyes. “so what? he slacks off in class?”

your mom pursed her lips. “it’s more than that. skipping school, getting into trouble, hanging around the wrong crowds…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “just—be careful around him, honey.”

there it was. the warning.

and, of course, the assumption that you couldn’t think for yourself.

you sighed, rubbing your temple. “i’m not hanging out with him. i’m tutoring him. in the library. with textbooks.” you glanced between them. “pretty sure that’s not a crime.”

your mom didn’t look convinced, and your dad only leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable.

“just don’t let him pull you into anything,” he said. “kids like that don’t change.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, a flicker of irritation curling in your chest.

they made it sound like you were helpless. like the second you spent time with him, you’d suddenly throw your whole life away. everything you’ve built for yourself.

you shook your head. “it’s not that serious.”

and before either of them could say anything else, you grabbed your bag and headed for your room, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.

they were overreacting.

they didn’t know him.

and neither did you.

—

session one - monday february 23rd

the school day dragged.

it wasn’t any different from usual; classes, notes, the occasional group discussion, but today, there was a lingering awareness hanging over you. a ticking clock in the back of your mind, counting down to the inevitable.

you weren’t looking forward to tutoring haechan. but you had a job to do, and if he didn’t show, well… that was his problem, not yours.

by the time the final bell rang, you had already secured a table in the library, setting out your textbook, notebook, and a few highlighters. everything was neatly arranged. you had a plan, a structured breakdown of the material he needed to catch up on.

and yet, fifteen minutes passed.

then twenty.

you checked your phone, tapping your pen against your notes.

was he seriously going to ditch on the first day?

finally, you heard footsteps approaching, and then a familiar voice, drawling, “damn. you’re really taking this seriously, huh?”

you glanced up to see haechan standing there, hands in his pockets, looking completely unfazed. like he hadn’t just wasted almost half an hour of your time.

you exhaled sharply. “you’re late.”

“fashionably,” he corrected, dropping into the chair across from you.

you leveled him with a stare. “i don’t think that applies to studying.”

he shrugged. “guess we’ll find out.”

already, your patience was wearing thin. you pushed the textbook toward him, flipping to the section you had marked. “let’s start with reaction rates. you need to understand how—”

he wasn’t listening.

instead of looking at the notes, he was looking at you, head tilted slightly, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“you always sit this straight?” he mused, tapping his pen against the table.

you blinked, looking up from the textbook. “what?”

“just saying. you’re sitting like you’re taking an exam or something.” he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “relax. tutoring’s not life or death.”

you ignored the heat creeping up your neck and flipped open your notebook instead. “can we focus?”

he hummed, like he was considering it. then, before you could continue, he leaned forward slightly, eyeing your arrangement of highlighters and pens.

“bet you highlight in, like, five different colors.”

you clenched your jaw. four, actually, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of being right.

when you didn’t respond, he grinned, undeterred. “does tutoring me ruin your whole ‘perfect student’ reputation?”

you inhaled slowly, gripping your pen a little tighter. “only if you fail,” you said flatly.

he let out a soft laugh, finally glancing at the textbook. “alright, alright. hit me with the science.”

you exhaled, pushing past your irritation. this was going to be a long session.

but one way or another, you were getting through to him.

—

the next hour closed and you left the library still irritated—but more at yourself than him.

why had your heartbeat picked up when he had leaned in? why had his teasing stuck in your head longer than necessary?

get a grip.

the school hallways were mostly empty by now, just a few stragglers grabbing things from their lockers or heading to practice. you stopped by your own locker, swapping out your books for what you needed, then headed outside.

the late afternoon air was crisp, the sky shifting into a soft orange glow. you walked home, already thinking about how you’d explain the session to your parents.

(you wouldn’t. you’d just tell them it happened and leave it at that.)

continuing your walk, barely making it past the school you hear a voice from behind you.

“yo, tutor.”

your head snapped up.

haechan. again.

he was leaning against a lamppost a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, the same knowing smirk playing at his lips.

“we should celebrate.”

you frowned. “celebrate what?”

“me actually getting an answer right, obviously.” he straightened, stretching his arms behind his head. “c’mon, don’t be boring. you never just—i don’t know—do something on a whim?”

you had remembered the question he got right—which was simply the question you had answered yesterday in class. you narrowed your eyes. “if this is your way of trying to get out of studying next time—”

“relax.” he chuckled. “just messing with you. see you at our very serious study session next time, tutor.”

and with that, he strolled off like he hadn’t just left you standing there, your thoughts an even bigger mess than before.

—

session two - wednesday the 25th

you told yourself you wouldn’t get annoyed this time. you even mentally prepared for his usual antics before heading to the library.

it didn’t work.

haechan was late again. this time only by ten minutes, but still. he strolled in with an iced coffee in one hand, a lazy grin on his face like he hadn’t kept you waiting.

“you get extra credit for showing up on time, you know.”

“damn, should’ve known,” he drawled, sliding into the seat across from you. “maybe next time.”

you sighed, pushing the textbook toward him. “no distractions today.”

“that’s asking a lot.”

“it’s not.”

to your surprise, he actually made an effort. at least at first. he followed along as you explained reaction mechanisms, even nodded a few times like he understood. but the second things got even slightly complicated, he leaned back and groaned.

“why do i even need this? it’s not like i’m gonna be a scientist.”

“you need it to pass.”

“passing is overrated.”

“says the guy who’s literally failing.”

he just grinned, spinning his ring around his finger. “touché, sunshine.”

the nickname caught you off guard, making your stomach flip in a way that was foreign to you. whether he noticed your shift or not, he continued to use the name anytime he talked to you.

progress was slow, but you managed to get through two topics before he started messing around again, twirling his pen, asking dumb hypothetical questions that had nothing to do with chemistry.

“if i fail, do you fail too? since you’re my tutor?”

“no.”

“damn. no stakes for you then, huh?”

“just the overwhelming frustration of having to deal with you.”

“you wound me.” he clutched his chest dramatically, then smirked. “you sure you’re not starting to like our little sessions, though?”

you rolled your eyes. “go home, haechan.”

he laughed as he stood up, giving you a lazy salute before walking off.

session three - friday the 27th

miraculously, haechan was on time. but that didn’t mean he behaved.

“don’t look so shocked, tutor.” he plopped into his usual seat. “i can be responsible when i wanna be.”

“so, you just choose not to be?”

“exactly.”

today, he actually put in a little more effort, asking questions instead of just guessing his way through answers. you started to think, maybe this tutoring thing wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

and then, halfway through, he got bored.

“okay, pop quiz,” he said, snapping his book shut. “if you had to get a tattoo, what would it be?”

you blinked. “we are not doing this.”

“come on, humor me.”

“fine,” you muttered, flipping through your notes. “something small. simple. maybe a quote.”

“predictable,” he teased. “what if i said i’d get your name tattooed?”

you shot him a deadpan look. “then i’d question all of your life choices.”

he laughed, drumming his fingers against the table. “nah, i’d get something cool. a dragon or something. or maybe—” he wiggled his brows. “a chemical equation, just for you.”

“how generous.”

“i try.”

somehow, even with the distractions, he managed to retain at least some of what you covered. as you packed up, he tapped his pen against the table.

“hey, sunshine.”

you glanced up, not missing his smirk at your responding to the name.

“don’t miss me too much over the weekend.”

“leave.”

he laughed all the way out the door.

session four - monday march 2nd

you were already exhausted from the start of the new week, and haechan wasn’t helping.

“mondays shouldn’t exist,” he grumbled, dropping into his chair.

while you agreed, you had to keep him focused. “you still have to study.”

“brutal.”

you launched straight into the material, ignoring his dramatic sighs and complaints about how unfair school was. surprisingly, he focused for a solid thirty minutes—until he caught you tapping your foot.

“you’re impatient today,” he observed, tilting his head.

“or maybe i just want you to actually learn something.”

“i am learning. look,” he pointed at an equation. “i even remember this one.”

you checked. he was right.

“wow,” you deadpanned. “you have a functioning brain after all.”

“careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

despite yourself, you bit back a smile.

the session ended with him actually completing the assigned questions, granted, after a lot of coaxing. as you packed up, he tapped the table again, just like last time.

“see you wednesday, sunshine.”

this time, you didn’t tell him to leave.

you did however, roll your eyes as he walked away, still grinning.

—

session five – wednesday the 4th

it was one of those days.

haechan was late—again. not by much, but enough to make you grit your teeth when he finally strolled in, a bag of chips in one hand, looking like he had nowhere better to be.

“don’t look at me like that, sunshine.” he smirked as he slid into his seat. “traffic was brutal.”

“you walk here.”

“damn. caught me.”

you inhaled sharply through your nose, pushing the worksheet toward him. “just start.”

he did. kind of.

five minutes in, he was tapping his pen against the table. ten minutes in, he was spinning his rings. fifteen minutes in, he was leaning back in his chair with a yawn.

“haechan,” you warned.

“hmm?”

“can you at least pretend to care?”

he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “depends. does it bother you?”

you shook your head. “whatever.”

“relax, sunshine.” he tilted his head. “you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

you ignored the way heat crept up your neck. “just answer the question.”

he glanced at it. “mm… ‘catalyst slows down a reaction.’”

you shut your eyes, inhaling deeply. “no. it speeds up a reaction—”

“eh, close enough.”

“no, it’s not—” you cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. “are you even trying?”

“nah.”

that was it.

“then why the hell are we even doing this?”

he blinked at you, momentarily caught off guard. but you were already pushing back your chair, stuffing your notes into your bag with sharp, deliberate movements.

“if you fail, that’s your problem. not mine.”

you didn’t wait for a response. just walked out, leaving him sitting there—still smirking, but something in his expression had shifted.

session seven – monday the 9th

the session was supposed to be like any other. you’d prepared the material, you had everything set up, and you were expecting the usual. you didn’t expect haechan to show up on time—or at least not to show up with an actual sense of purpose.

he slung his bag over the chair and slumped down. his usual cocky grin wasn’t there.

“what’s wrong with you?” you asked, surprised at how… serious he seemed.

he didn’t answer right away, instead just staring at the notes in front of him with furrowed brows.

“this is dumb,” he muttered under his breath.

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s dumb? the concept? the subject? or… you?”

he flicked his eyes to you, but there was no usual smirk, just irritation. “all of it.”

you frowned. “this isn’t the usual ‘i don’t care’ routine. what’s going on?”

he didn’t meet your eyes, instead flicking through the textbook like he was hoping to find a way out of this.

“i just don’t get it,” he said, voice tight.

you sat back, eyeing him carefully. you were so used to him breezing through everything, acting like he didn’t care, so this sudden frustration was… different. it threw you off.

“you’ve got this. we’ve gone over it before.”

“yeah, well, it’s not clicking today,” he shot back, rubbing his temples like he was battling a headache.

you leaned forward, speaking more gently than usual. “haechan, this stuff isn’t hard. you just have to stop shutting down every time it gets tough.”

he looked at you for a long moment, eyes soft but frustrated. he clearly didn’t want to admit that maybe, just maybe, you were right.

“i don’t shut down,” he muttered. “it’s just… everything else is easier. this? it feels like i’m failing at something i can’t even explain.”

you blinked, taken aback. haechan never let anything get to him, at least not this much.

“okay,” you said, shifting your tone to something a little more reassuring. “we can take it slow. i’ll help you through it.”

but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t just about the chemistry. there was something deeper in his frustration—something he wasn’t saying.

he sat back in his chair, massaging his temples. “maybe i just don’t get it because i’m not supposed to. i’m not like you, sunshine.”

“no, you’re not,” you said softly. “but i know you can get it. you have to try.”

there was a long silence between you, and for the first time in a while, you realized that your usual teasing, quick comebacks wouldn’t fix this.

haechan’s eyes met yours for a fleeting second, something raw in them. then, he sighed.

“this is stupid,” he muttered, but there was a softness to his voice. “i’ll try.”

and for once, you believed him.

—

days later, sunday dinner was quiet, just the soft clinking of utensils against plates and the low hum of the tv in the background. your parents had been giving you a look all evening. the kind that meant they had something to say but were waiting for the right moment.

you didn’t have to wait long.

“so,” your mom started, too casually. “how’s tutoring going?”

you didn’t even glance up from your plate. “fine.”

“fine?” your dad echoed. “that’s it?”

you shrugged, poking at your food. “what else is there to say?”

your mom set down her fork. “is he at least putting in effort?”

you huffed. “define effort.”

they exchanged a glance, the kind that made you feel like a kid again, like they already knew exactly what was going on.

“we just want to make sure he’s not wasting your time,” your dad said. “if he’s not serious about learning, you don’t have to keep doing this.”

“he’s… getting better,” you admitted, though you weren’t sure if it was entirely true. he was trying, in his own way, but it was a slow process.

your mom still looked unconvinced. “just be careful, sweetheart.”

you frowned. “careful?”

“boys like him…” she hesitated, choosing her words. “they can be a distraction.”

“he’s not a distraction,” you said immediately, but the way she raised an eyebrow made your stomach twist.

and then— “you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you nearly choked. “what? no. why would you even—?”

“because it happens,” your dad cut in, giving you a pointed look. “you spend enough time with someone, and next thing you know, you start making excuses for them.”

“i’m not making excuses.” you leaned back in your chair, suddenly desperate to get out of this conversation. “and i definitely don’t have a crush on him. it’s just tutoring. that’s it.”

they didn’t argue, but the look in their eyes said enough.

—

session ten – monday the 16th

you weren’t sure why your parents’ question was still echoing in your head. it was ridiculous, really. you didn’t have a crush on him. just because he was annoying, and cocky, and had that stupid smirk that made your stomach flip sometimes—no. not sometimes. never. it didn’t matter.

but still, as you walked into the library, setting your bag down at the usual table, you felt weirdly… off. distracted.

you pulled out your notes, trying to shake the thought, but haechan just had to say something.

“damn, sunshine. you look tense. bad day?”

you jumped slightly at his voice. he was standing next to you now, one hand gripping the chair as he spun it lazily before sitting down. he was late, as usual, but this time you hadn’t even noticed.

“fine,” you said quickly, focusing on your notes.

“you sure?” he tilted his head, leaning forward on the table. “you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

you did. but there was no way in hell you were going to tell him what.

“it’s nothing,” you said, too quickly. “let’s just get started.”

but as the session went on, you found yourself more distracted than usual. every time he leaned in, every time he ran a hand through his hair, every time he smirked at something that wasn’t even funny, you thought of your parents’ voices in your head.

“you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

no. you weren’t. you refused to.

but then he tapped his pen against the table, glancing at you through his lashes. “you’re really off today, sunshine. what’s up?”

and maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was the fact that you hated how observant he could be, but you snapped.

“you. you’re up. why do you talk so much?”

he blinked, clearly not expecting that. then, he grinned. “because you like it.”

“i don’t.”

“liar.”

you groaned, running a hand down your face. this session was going to be impossible.

—

session twelve - friday the 20th

you had a feeling he wasn’t going to show up.

maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t texted all day—not that he ever really did, but usually, there was something. some offhand comment about how he was so tired or how he was mentally preparing for another “brutal” study session. but today? nothing.

still, you sat at the usual table, notes spread out, waiting.

and waiting.

until finally, you checked the time and realized it had been forty-five minutes.

you scoffed, shoving your notes back into your bag with more force than necessary. of course he wouldn’t show up. of course, he’d waste your time like this.

this was exactly why you didn’t like him.

not that you had to remind yourself. but things like this. his impulsiveness, his lack of reliability, the way he did whatever he wanted without considering anyone else, made it so much easier to not like him.

except, if that were really true, you wouldn’t be this pissed off.

you stormed out of the library, typing out a single text before shoving your phone deep into your pocket.

“seriously?”

no greeting. no unnecessary words. just that.

and when he didn’t respond, you told yourself you didn’t care.

even though, somehow, he was all you could think about for the rest of the night.

—

the weekend was quite eventful.

saturday -

you weren’t mad.

at least, that’s what you told yourself as you pulled out your laptop that morning, trying to focus on the essay you’d been putting off. it had nothing to do with him. nothing to do with the fact that he’d completely wasted your time yesterday. it wasn’t like you cared.

but when your phone lit up beside you, your heart jumped a little too fast. you grabbed it instinctively. only to see a notification from your bank about your spending this month.

you exhaled sharply, tossing your phone aside. see? you weren’t waiting for a text. because you weren’t expecting one. because you didn’t care.

still, you had to physically stop yourself from checking your messages every hour, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, you were in a terrible mood.

saturday night -

“so let me get this straight,” your friend, karina said, stirring her drink lazily. “he didn’t show up. didn’t text. and…now you’re mad about it.”

you scowled, leaning back in your chair. “i’m not mad.”

she raised an eyebrow. “you sure? cause you seem pretty mad.”

you crossed your arms. “i just don’t like when people waste my time. it’s inconsiderate.”

“right.” karina smirked, tilting her head. “but it’s weird, isn’t it? because you weren’t even this mad when you thought he wasn’t taking tutoring seriously. but now? now he misses one session, and suddenly, it’s a big deal?”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “that’s not the point.”

“mhm.” she sipped her drink, clearly unconvinced.

you refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but as you stared down at your untouched food, a thought crept into your mind.

was she right?

sunday afternoon -

you spotted him before he saw you.

standing by the counter at the campus café, looking as unbothered as ever. hoodie slightly loose around his shoulders, rings glinting under the dim lighting as he scrolled through his phone.

he wasn’t avoiding you, then. because avoiding would at least mean he knew he did something wrong.

the irritation that had been simmering all weekend bubbled over. before you could think twice, you were already walking toward him.

“oh, hey, sunshine.” he glanced up as you stopped beside him, smiling like nothing had happened. “you look cute when you’re brooding.”

you didn’t waste time. “you didn’t show up.”

he shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “yeah. something came up.”

“something came up?” your voice was sharper than intended, but you didn’t care. “you could’ve at least said something.”

he leaned against the counter, studying you with an amused tilt of his head. “why? you miss me?”

your fingers curled into fists at your sides. because he was doing this on purpose. pushing, testing, waiting to see how much you’d react. and you hated that it was working.

“you’re unbelievable.” the words came out in a breath, laced with frustration.

and then you turned on your heel and walked away before you could say anything else you’d regret.

but the worst part? the absolute worst part?

he was still in your head, and you didn’t know how to make it stop.

—

session thirteen - monday the 23rd

for the next two weeks, you and haechan had to change locations as club was having their meetings in the library. you moved to a classroom near the library.

monday’s session wasn’t a disaster. in fact, it was almost… normal.

he showed up—five minutes late, but that was practically on time for him. he didn’t ignore the notes you laid out, didn’t spend the whole time spinning his rings or making dumb comments. he even answered a few questions correctly, which honestly shocked you.

“so you do pay attention sometimes,” you muttered when he got one right.

“wow, sunshine.” he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “say that again. maybe i’ll start believing you actually like having me around.”

you scoffed, underlining something in your notebook just to avoid looking at him. “don’t push it.”

he chuckled but didn’t push. and for the first time since this whole tutoring arrangement started, things actually felt… okay. he was still distracting, still teasing you every chance he got, still doing that infuriating thing where he leaned back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. but at least he was trying.

and that was enough.

for now.

later that week, things changed.

session fifteen- friday the 25th

you were still in one of the school’s empty classrooms, finishing up some notes for yourself. it was already late when you heard the classroom door creak open.

too late for a tutoring session. too late for him to be here at all.

you looked up, expecting a janitor, maybe a teacher. instead, you saw him.

“oh my god.” your breath caught when you finally glanced up. “what happened to you?”

he looked…rough. a split lip, a bruise already blooming on his cheekbone, dried blood crusted near his eyebrow. his knuckles were bruising and stained with a little blood, like he’d been swinging at something—or someone.

“nothin’.” his voice was quieter than usual, the usual cockiness dulled by exhaustion. “just a bad night.”

“bad night? you look like you got your ass kicked.” you frowned, already standing. “who—why—”

“doesn’t matter.” he waved a hand, like he wanted to brush it off, but even that small movement made him wince.

you sighed, shaking your head as you grabbed your bag. “stay here.”

he didn’t argue as you left, and when you came back a few minutes later, first aid kit in hand, he still hadn’t moved. just sat there, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh, like he was waiting for the fight to start back up again.

but when you stood in front of him, tilting his face up slightly so you could dab at the cut on his lip, he stilled.

“you don’t have to do this,” he murmured.

“you don’t have to get into fights.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it.

when you knelt beside him and took his hand in yours, he barely reacted, letting you clean the dried blood from his knuckles. his skin was warm under your touch, but you ignored that. just like you ignored the way his eyes were fixed on you, dark and unreadable.

for a while, there was only silence. the soft press of gauze against his skin, the quiet scrape of your nails as you brushed away the dried blood. and through it all, he just watched you.

like he didn’t understand why you cared.

“you’re not supposed to fix me, sunshine,” he said eventually, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “just tutor me.”

you didn’t look at his eyes. “maybe i just don’t want to watch you fall apart.”

his breath hitched slightly. and maybe you imagined it, but for the first time, the fight in his eyes flickered. just for a second.

he didn’t say anything else. but something shifted in that moment.

because later, when he went home, he touched the bandage you had carefully pressed onto his skin, fingers lingering there longer than necessary.

and even though he would never admit it. maybe not even to himself, that was the moment he started falling for you.

—

after that night, things feel different. you tell yourself they’re not, that nothing’s changed, that you’re just imagining the way your chest tightens when you catch him looking at you in the middle of a study session. but it’s there, lingering in the spaces between words, in the silence that lasts too long, in the way his teasing remarks don’t land the same way anymore.

the next session, he actually tries.

not in an obvious way—he’s still late, still sighs dramatically when you hand him a practice problem, still taps his pen against the table like he’s counting down the minutes until he can leave. but when you ask him a question, he answers. when he gets something wrong, he listens when you explain instead of brushing it off.

session sixteen - monday the 28th

“so, what, you’re suddenly serious about passing?” you ask, watching as he leans forward, elbows braced against the table.

he tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “maybe i just like seeing you all impressed when i get something right.”

you roll your eyes. “trust me, you’d have to try way harder for that to happen.”

but you don’t mean it. because when he mutters the right answer under his breath, brow furrowed like he’s actually thinking, something twists in your stomach. you shove the feeling down before it can take root.

—

then, he starts showing up.

not just to your tutoring sessions—those are still scheduled, still predictable, still something you can control—but to other places. places he shouldn’t be.

like when you’re sitting outside between classes, notebook open in your lap, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the pavement.

“wow,” his voice cuts through the quiet, lazy and amused. “you really do study all the time, huh?”

you glance up, frowning as he drops into the seat across from you. “what are you doing here?”

he shrugs, peeling the label off his drink. “nowhere else to be.”

he stays. doesn’t do much—just picks at his rings, tosses casual comments your way, complains about the weather. at first, it’s just once. then it happens again. and again.

“you know you don’t have to sit here, right?” you say one day, not looking up from your laptop.

“i know.”

he doesn’t leave. and you don’t tell him to. maybe that’s your first mistake.

—

the evening air is crisp, biting at your skin as you step out of the library. you tug your jacket tighter around yourself, putting your earbuds in as you start down the quiet path leading off campus. most of the streetlights flicker on as it got darker.

you don’t hear him at first.

not until he falls into step beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched.

“hey, sunshine.”

you nearly trip, ripping an earbud out as you whip your head to the side. “what the—why are you here?”

he doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like this is the most natural thing in the world. “walking.” he motions in front of him.

“walking where?” you press, your suspicion growing.

he exhales, tilting his head toward the sky as if debating whether to answer. finally, he shrugs. “just making sure you get home okay.”

you slow your steps. something about the way he says it, like it’s just a fact, like it’s obvious, throws you off balance.

“i don’t need a bodyguard,” you mutter.

“yeah, i know.”

“so why—”

“just shut up and keep walking.”

the words should annoy you. they do annoy you. but something in his casual but firm tone, like he’s already decided he’s doing this whether you like it or not, leaves no room for argument. so you walk, stealing glances at him every so often, watching the way he shifts his weight, the way his fingers flex like he’s holding back something he’ll never say out loud.

“this isn’t a habit now, is it?” you ask after a few minutes.

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you roll your eyes but don’t push.

when you finally reach your place, you stop at the fence, hesitating. you should say goodnight. you should say thanks, maybe. but before you can decide, he’s already a few steps away, hands still buried in his pockets, gaze fixed ahead.

“see you later, sunshine.”

he doesn’t look back. doesn’t wait for a response.

but for some reason, you watch him walk away anyway.

—

you should be asleep.

but you’re not.

instead, you’re lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the walk home in your head like a movie you can’t turn off. like the flickering streetlights, the cold air, the steady sound of footsteps beside you—his footsteps—are all burned into your mind.

you shift onto your side, pulling your blanket up to your chin. it’s stupid. he didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything that should be lingering like this. all he did was show up. all he did was walk.

but still.

“just making sure you get home okay.”

he’d said it like it was nothing. like it wasn’t a thing.

but it was. wasn’t it?

you sigh, rolling onto your back again. your phone sits on your nightstand, screen dark, no notifications. not that you expected any. he’s not the kind of guy to text. but still, some stupid part of you wonders if he’s thinking about it, too.

not about you. just—about anything.

maybe he’s already asleep, completely unbothered, already moved on. maybe it meant nothing to him.

but then again—

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you close your eyes, exhaling slowly.

you don’t know what’s worse. the fact that he might actually do it again.

or the fact that you kind of want him to.

—

session nineteen - monday april 4th

you check the time again.

ten minutes late.

with an annoyed sigh, you tap your pen against the open notebook in front of you, debating whether to give up and leave. it’s not like he hasn’t done this before. showing up whenever he feels like it, acting like he’s doing you a favor by even bothering. but this time, it’s grating more than usual. maybe because things have been different lately—less antagonistic, more… whatever this weird tension is that neither of you have acknowledged.

and then, just as you’re about to slap your notebook shut, a chair scrapes against the floor.

“took you long enough,” you mutter without looking up.

“miss me?”

the smirk is there—you can hear it in his voice even before you meet his gaze. he leans back in his chair, stretching out like he has all the time in the world. no apology, no excuse. just him, always testing your patience.

you roll your eyes and push his notebook toward him. “just open your book.”

the session starts off okay, at first. he’s actually trying—not a lot, but enough. he answers a few questions, gets some right, listens when you explain the ones he gets wrong. but there’s something off about him today.

he’s restless. more than usual.

his fingers tap against the table, his rings clicking against each other in a way that makes your nerves buzz. he sighs every time you correct him, leans back so far in his chair that you’re convinced he’s seconds away from tipping over. but most of all, he’s not looking at you.

not in the usual way, at least. he usually stares—lazy, smug, like he’s waiting for you to snap. but today, it’s like he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. like he’s somewhere else.

“what is wrong with you today?” the words slip out before you can stop them.

haechan raises an eyebrow, finally meeting your eyes. “me? nothing. maybe you’re just extra grumpy today.”

you glare. “maybe i wouldn’t be if you were actually focused.”

he clicks his tongue, shutting his notebook with a dull thud. “yeah? and what if i don’t feel like it?”

your patience snaps. “then why are you even here, haechan?”

silence.

his expression shifts—just barely, but enough for you to see it. the way his jaw tightens, the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he looks away.

and then he speaks so quiet, almost to himself.

“good question.”

your breath catches. because suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re talking about tutoring anymore.

neither of you speak after that.

the rest of the session is stiff, words clipped and movements sharp. when it ends, he doesn’t throw a smug remark over his shoulder, doesn’t tease you like he usually does. he just stands, slings his bag over his shoulder, and walks out without looking back.

you stay sitting there long after he’s gone, staring at the empty chair next to you.

heart pounding for reasons you don’t want to think about.

—

session twenty - wednesday the 6th

wednesday’s session is quieter than usual. it’s like there’s a wall between the two of you—still the same awkwardness, but with more… space.

haechan is more focused than before, but there’s a distance in the way he engages with the material. no smart comments, no teasing, just a steady silence as he works through the problems. every time your fingers brush over his paper to point out a mistake, there’s a brief, electric pause. neither of you comment on it, but it lingers, like a promise neither of you are ready to make.

but by the end of it, he’s gone without a word. not a smile, not a look. just the door shutting quietly behind him.

—

session twenty one - friday the 8th

friday’s session is different.

when he walks in, there’s a heaviness about him, something off—his face is bruised again, his lip split like last time, hair slightly tousled, and there’s a subtle tremble in his step like he’s not sure whether to be here or not. his eyes avoid yours as he slides into the chair across from yours, too close to be casual but too distant to be comfortable.

the silence between you is charged from the start, but it’s not the playful tension you’re used to. it’s thick, raw, almost uncomfortable.

you can’t help but stare at the bruise blooming across his jaw, the scrape on his chin, and the other cuts scattered across his arms. the anger and adrenaline radiate off him in waves, but there’s something deeper underneath all of it—a tiredness.

you try not to let your voice crack, but the concern breaks through anyway. “what happened?”

haechan doesn’t meet your gaze. his eyes are dark, like he’s trying to bury something under all that nonchalance. “it’s nothing.”

you don’t believe him. obviously. not looking like that. “haechan, don’t lie.”

finally, he looks at you, and there’s something in his expression that makes you freeze—raw vulnerability laced with a bitterness you can’t quite place. “someone said something about you,” he says quietly. “something i didn’t like.”

you feel the weight of his words like a punch to the gut. “what do you mean?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, but there’s no hiding the unease creeping into your tone.

he’s quiet for a long moment, his fingers tapping restlessly against the table as he thinks about how to phrase it. then, he just blurts it out: “i fought over you.”

it takes you a second to process. “what?”

he looks at you, this time, eyes searching yours like he’s looking for something. “they were talking about you. bad stuff. i couldn’t just sit there. i—” his words falter, like he’s not sure why he’s even explaining this to you.

you don’t know what to say. your heart beats harder, faster. “so you just…?”

“i lost it.” he’s not ashamed, not exactly, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel like he’s letting go of more than just the fight. “i couldn’t stand it. i had to do something.”

and that’s when it hits you—the depth of everything he’s been hiding behind those sharp smirks and sarcastic comments.

without thinking, your fingers move—just a soft brush against his darkening knuckles, like it’s the only thing you can do to make sense of all this. you feel the heat of his skin underneath your fingertips, and the contact burns, even though it’s so small.

haechan’s breath catches. there’s a moment of complete silence, and then he slowly, so slowly, moves his fingers that were under yours.

you hold your breath, fingers trembling just a little. and then, as if testing the waters, he slides his fingers up to rest his hand against yours. you found your hand opening up, as your palms touched slightly. his finger tips grazing your with a ghost-like touch. for a second, neither of you moves. there’s a fragile, delicate tension that seems to freeze the room in place.

and then, without saying a word, he lets his fingers gently curl around yours.

it’s slow, tentative, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. but when you don’t, when you let him, he doesn’t hesitate. his grip tightens just enough, not too much—just enough to say this matters.

your heart races, and your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.

you let your fingers slip into the spaces between his, moving carefully, slowly.

there’s no hurry. just the quiet sound of your breaths mingling with the subtle click of his rings as his fingers settle between yours.

his eyes drop to your hands, studying the way you fit together, the way your fingers slide against his, perfectly and effortlessly. it’s intimate in a way that makes everything around you disappear. there’s only the soft warmth of his hand in yours, the quiet thrum of something unspoken growing louder between you.

he leans forward slightly, his voice quiet, almost like a confession. “i fought because of you,” he says, the weight of his words settling between you two like a secret you didn’t expect.

you want to say something, want to ask why, but the words don’t come. your chest feels tight. why would he do that for you?

his thumb strokes the back of your hand, the motion slow and careful, and you feel the heat of his touch seep through you. “i couldn’t just let them say shit about you,” he murmurs, his voice raw. “no one talks about you like that and gets away with it.”

you finally meet his gaze, your chest tight with something you can’t name. he holds your hand gently, but there’s a possessiveness in his touch, something protective that you can’t quite ignore.

the air between you is thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid. he doesn’t let go of your hand, doesn’t move away, and neither do you.

you’re not sure how long you sit there, fingers entwined, the world outside of this moment fading away. but somehow, it feels like everything has changed between you two in that quiet, intimate touch. Something that didn’t need to be spoken but felt.

neither of you moves, not yet. not until it’s time.

—

saturday -

saturday morning arrives with the lingering weight of haechan’s words from the previous session. “maybe we could grab a coffee or something. no tutoring… just…”

his voice still echoes in your mind as you get ready. you don’t know why it’s making you nervous. you’ve spent hours with him tutoring, in tight spaces, talking about everything under the sun, but this feels different. it’s not about grades or chemistry anymore. it’s about you and him—just two people.

when your parents asked where you were off to, you brushed them off with a simple. “studying at the café,”.

at 2 p.m., you arrive at the cafe a little early. your heart beats louder in your chest as you stand outside, looking at the door, unsure whether you should go in first or wait. but before you can make up your mind, haechan appears. he’s wearing a hoodie and jeans. his messy hair adds to the vibe—relaxed, but there’s an intensity in the way he walks towards you.

“hey,” he greets with that familiar teasing smile, but it’s less playful today, more reserved. he watches you for a beat, like he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling.

“hey,” you respond, your voice steady but your insides twist with something unfamiliar.

the conversation starts easy, like a continuation of your tutoring sessions, but it quickly morphs into something more personal. you laugh at his jokes, and he cracks a few of his usual sarcastic comments. but this time, they don’t feel so cutting—they feel like an invitation, an effort to connect.

you tell him about your favorite subjects, and he talks about his struggle with science (which he completely tries to play off like he doesn’t care about). somehow, you both end up talking about your childhoods, your families, and some awkward high school moments. the more you talk, the more the layers fall away, and you realize this is more real than you expected. he really wasn’t some monster that everyone seemed to paint him as.

as you finish your drinks, there’s an uneasy silence between you two. haechan runs a hand through his hair, and you shift in your seat, unsure of what to do next. the energy between you both is charged now—unspoken words hang thick in the air, and it’s almost unbearable.

“well, sunshine,” he says, his voice softer than usual, “i guess I’ll see you on monday?”

you nod, too quickly, almost relieved to escape the pressure of the moment. “yeah, monday.”

you both stand, and as you turn to walk away, you feel his eyes on you. you can’t tell if it’s admiration or something else, but the way he watches you feels different now.

sunday -

sunday passes quietly, but the space between you and haechan feels wider, even though you just saw him the day before. you try not to think about the little moments—the way he looked at you, how close you both were, how much you wanted him to say more. but that’s the problem, isn’t it? you both left so much unsaid, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.

he doesn’t text you at all. the silence is deafening. you tell yourself it’s probably a good thing; after all, you don’t need to overanalyze everything, right? but then again, why does it feel so heavy?

you end up spending the day at home, alone with your thoughts. the weekend was supposed to be simple, a break from the usual, but now you can’t shake the feeling that it’s more complicated than that. haechan has always been complicated, but now you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something, not sure whether to jump or step back.

session twenty two - monday the 11th

by the time monday rolls around, you’re feeling restless. there’s a shift in your mood. a nervous energy that you can’t shake off, and when you step into school, it feels like you’re waiting for something to happen. you can’t decide if it’s anticipation or dread, but either way, you’re drawn back to the tutoring session.

when haechan finally walks into the classroom, you can’t tell if he’s acting like everything is normal or if he’s pretending. he gives you a short wave, but it’s not his usual playful smile. it’s different now. there’s something more cautious in his movements.

you both settle into your usual rhythm—he’s late, of course, but he’s quieter today. you’re not sure if that’s because of the weekend or if it’s something else entirely.

the session goes well, mostly. it’s like before, in the sense that you both get through the work, but there’s an added tension. he looks at you a little longer than he usually does, his eyes scanning your face as if he’s trying to understand something. the usual teasing is absent today, replaced by a different energy—more subtle, more cautious.

by the end of the session, you can’t help but feel like you’re caught in this strange, unspoken limbo between what you both were and what you might be. you still don’t know where it’s going, but you’re both standing at the edge, unsure whether to jump or wait to see what the next step will be.

—

session twenty three - wednesday the 13th

it’s the final session before the break, and everything feels different. the air feels thicker, charged with something neither of you are saying but both know is there. you both sit at the desk, the tension palpable, but neither of you are focused on the notes in front of you. it’s like the classroom walls are closing in, and neither of you can breathe easily.

you keep glancing over at him, trying to stick to the lesson, but he’s just… there, too close, too present. the words he’s saying are just noise in the background as his eyes flicker over you every time you speak, his gaze heavy, simmering. you know it’s not just the subject anymore. something has shifted.

“you’re not listening,” you say, your voice sharper than you intend.

he looks at you, not surprised, but not unaffected either. “neither are you,” he replies, and there’s something in his voice that’s too calm. too knowing.

you press your lips together, trying to keep your composure. “well, you’re not even trying.”

he smirks, leaning back in his chair slightly. “again, neither are you.”

there’s a challenge in his voice, and it sets something off inside you. something snaps. you stand up more abrupt than you anticipate, trying to collect your thoughts but only feeling more overwhelmed by the space between you two. you feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of the tension, like there’s something about to break, and you don’t know if you want to stop it or let it happen.

you cross your arms, pacing around the small desk, trying to cool the heat you feel flooding your chest.

“why are you so difficult?” you murmur, more to yourself than him.

“because you make it easy,” he says, voice low, leaning forward, his eyes locked on you in a way that makes your knees weak.

he stands up slowly, the movement purposeful, and your heart skips a beat. the space between you is closing, and before you can make sense of what’s happening, he’s there, standing right in front of you.

his hand brushes against yours, and you feel it like a spark, his fingers just grazing yours before he holds your wrist lightly, tugging you closer to him. you can’t move, rooted in place by something deeper than just attraction.

and then he kisses you.

it’s a kiss that’s full of everything you’ve been holding back. the anger, the frustration, the need for something more that you don’t know how to name. it’s messy, urgent, like both of you are desperate to see how far you can go without letting go. your hands find their way to his chest, pushing against him as you kiss him back, just as hungry, just as eager.

you feel his grip on your wrist tighten, pulling you closer as his other hand slides to your waist. the kiss deepens, and the world around you disappears. it’s just you and him, the heat of his lips against yours, the press of his body against yours.

you can’t help but give in, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, your breath coming faster as the intensity builds.

and then, just as suddenly, it breaks.

you pull back, hands trembling, and you stare at him, your heart pounding against your ribs.

you feel guilty.

you glance away, trying to catch your breath, but all you can hear are the voices from the past—the warnings your parents gave you, the things they said about boys like him.

“boys like him are trouble.”

the words echo in your mind like a warning. trouble.

you can’t ignore it. your heart sinks, and a cold wave of uncertainty washes over you. this is trouble.

you step back, trying to create some distance, trying to make sense of it all. “this isn’t… supposed to happen.”

he stays silent for a beat, his expression unreadable. then, quietly, he says, “i don’t want to stop.”

you shake your head, backing away, but you can’t seem to find the words. everything’s spinning in your head. he’s trouble, but you want him.

“haechan,” you whisper, feeling a rush of heat rise to your cheeks, “i—this was a mistake.”

he doesn’t say anything, just watches you as you grab your things, your heart heavy in your chest.

you don’t know how to fix this, don’t know how to untangle the mess you’ve just made of your feelings. you only know that walking away is the only thing you can do right now, even if every step you take feels like it’s pulling you away from him and yet dragging you closer at the same time.

you leave without another word, but as you walk down the hall, your mind is still stuck on him.

this isn’t what i signed up for… but then again, maybe it was.

—

the following night is unusually still, and you lie awake, mind tangled in the events of the past week. your thoughts keep drifting back to him—the kiss, the way he pulled away, and the uncertainty that followed. you toss and turn, trying to shake off the feeling, but it’s like something’s pulling you in. just as you start to think you’re finally starting to calm down, a soft knock at your window breaks through the silence.

your heart jumps in your chest, and for a second, you freeze. there’s no mistaking who it is. haechan.

you rush to the window, heart racing, but you pause for a brief moment to glance at your door—your parents are just down the hall. still, curiosity outweighs caution, and you push the blinds up quietly, barely believing your eyes.

there he is, his silhouette framed against the dim streetlights outside, standing on the roof near your window with that familiar, confident smirk that sends a strange rush through you.

“how’d you get up here?” you whisper after opening the window, your voice shaky, heart still pounding in your ears.

he shrugs as though it’s the most normal thing in the world, but you can’t ignore the way his arm strains as he grips the window sill, his veins flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt. your eyes flicker down to his arms, and for a moment, you forget to breathe, your gaze catching on the way the muscles ripple as he pulls himself up with a small thud.

you wince, then immediately shush him, raising a finger to your lips in an exaggerated, playful gesture. “my parents are gonna hear you!”

he flashes that trademark grin, but it’s softer this time—almost sheepish, like he wasn’t expecting this much resistance. “sorry,” he whispers, giving you a quick, apologetic wink before pulling himself through the window with a bit more flair than necessary. you can feel the heat radiating off him as he steps inside, and for a brief second, you both just stand there in the quiet of the room.

there’s an awkward pause as he dusts himself off, glancing around your room as if trying to find a reason for being here, but then his eyes land on you. his expression softens just a little, that familiar cockiness fading away for a second.

“didn’t mean to sneak up on you, but… figured i’d take a risk. can’t sleep, you know?”

you laugh softly, a little nervously, though you can’t quite explain why. there’s something about him being here, standing in your room in the dead of night, that’s thrilling in a way you’re not ready to admit. “did you…climb the tree?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“yeah,” he grins, his tone light, almost teasing. “it’s not that hard. plus, i thought i’d get your attention somehow.” he shrugs as if this is a totally reasonable thing to do. but when his eyes meet yours, there’s something behind them. something vulnerable, something unspoken.

“you’re crazy,” you mutter, but there’s no malice behind it. instead, your voice is soft, fond. you step back instinctively as he moves toward you, not sure if you want to step away or let him close the gap. you should be more concerned that he was here. if your parents found out, you have no idea what kind of reaction they’d have.

he looks at you for a moment, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s studying every detail. you can feel the tension building between the two of you, and even though you know you should step back again, you stay rooted to the spot. there’s a pull between you that neither of you can ignore.

“i just… couldn’t stop thinking about everything. about you,” he admits, the words coming out quieter than usual. he doesn’t sound like the usual confident haechan; there’s a vulnerability in his voice now, something raw that you’ve never heard before.

you blink, caught off guard. the air feels thick with unspoken words, and for a second, you’re at a loss for how to respond. your heart hammers in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you move a little closer to him.

his eyes widen slightly when you step forward, but he doesn’t move away. instead, he reaches for your hand slowly, almost hesitantly. his fingers brush over yours, the lightest touch that sends a jolt through you. it’s so quiet, so soft, but it feels like the whole world has paused. you glance down at his hand—his fingers are rough, the veins on his arms standing out against his skin.

you look back up at him, meeting his eyes, and he squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, almost intimate motion. there’s a quiet understanding between the two of you, a silent acknowledgment of everything that’s been building between you.

“you’re here,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, but it feels like it carries the weight of everything you haven’t been able to say.

he gives a small, lopsided grin, his thumb still moving over your hand. “yeah. i guess i am.”

and then, without another word, he leans in, and this time, when your lips meet, it’s not chaotic. it’s slow, deliberate, like the two of you are finally giving in to something you’ve been avoiding. his hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as if he’s memorizing the feel of you.

the kiss is soft at first, tentative, but it deepens as the moments stretch on, his other hand moving to gently to him by your back, pulling you closer. everything else fades away. the hesitation, the uncertainty and you lose yourself in it.

when you finally pull back, both of you are breathing a little heavier, the space between you still charged with the emotions neither of you knew how to express. you glance at the door again, your mind briefly flashing to the consequences of this. but for a moment, you don’t care.

“this is… insane,” you whisper, your voice trembling just slightly.

he leans his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i know. but i don’t think i can stay away.”

for a moment, you both just stand there, breathless, sharing the same quiet understanding. you’ve crossed a line you never thought you would, and for the first time, you’re not sure what comes next. but you know this: you can’t go back. not now.

—

after that night, everything changes. things between you and haechan aren’t just charged—they’re different. there’s no more pretending that what happened didn’t mean something.

friday the 15th

the next day at school, he’s there—leaning against his locker like usual, surrounded by his close group of friends, but his eyes are on you the second you walk in. it’s not just a glance this time. it’s intentional, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll look at him, if you’ll acknowledge what happened between you the night before.

your heart races, but you force yourself to act normal. your parents had been none the wiser about his late-night visit, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still thinking about it. thinking about him. you take a deep breath and head toward your first class, but just as you pass him, his fingers catch your wrist. it’s subtle, barely a touch, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“you’re not gonna ignore me now, are you?” his voice is low, teasing, but there’s something real underneath it.

“not here,” you murmur, pulling your hand away, your face heating up as you disappear into the crowd.

you glance around—people are watching. of course they are. it was unusual for a student like and a student like him to interact. let alone lee haechan and you.

but you can feel his gaze on you for the rest of the day.

after school -

he catches up to you before you can leave, cutting you off near the entrance. “so, sunshine, are we gonna talk about last night? or are you just gonna pretend i didn’t climb a damn tree for you?”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you could’ve fallen.”

“but i didn’t,” he grins, stepping closer, dropping his voice so only you can hear. “what, you worried about me?”

you are, but you won’t admit that. you sigh. “i don’t know what you expect me to say.”

his smirk fades just slightly, a flicker of something more serious in his eyes. “say it wasn’t nothing.”

you hesitate, because you can’t say that. you won’t lie. but you also don’t know what this is.

before you can respond, a voice calls your name from behind. one of your classmates. someone who shouldn’t be seeing you with him like this.

“i have to go,” you say quickly, stepping away.

he doesn’t stop you, but as you walk away, you hear him call out, just loud enough for you to hear—

“i’ll see you later, sunshine.”

and you know you will.

saturday night -

you get a text from him.

haechan: come outside

your heart leaps into your throat. you glance at your bedroom door, listening carefully. your parents are still awake. sneaking out has never been something you’ve even considered before, but now…

your fingers hover over your phone.

you: are you insane?

haechan: probably. but i wanna see you.

you hesitate. but only for a second.

and then, for the first time, you take the risk.

—

the door clicks softly behind you as you step onto the porch, the night air brushing cool against your skin. you shiver slightly, but you ignore it, your pulse already picking up when you spot haechan waiting just beyond the porch light’s glow, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.

he steps forward as you approach, but then—he stops.

his eyes flicker down, lingering.

you suddenly realize what you’re wearing—silk shorts, the kind with delicate lace at the hem, barely brushing mid-thigh. paired with a thin, loose sweater, it’s nothing that scandalous, but under his gaze, you feel the heat creeping up your neck.

his tongue swipes over his bottom lip before he exhales, tilting his head. “damn, sunshine. if i knew sneaking into your thoughts at night got me this kind of welcome, i would’ve done it sooner.”

you cross your arms, giving him an unimpressed look despite the warmth spreading in your chest. “i wasn’t exactly expecting company.”

he hums, taking another step closer. “yeah? so you just wear this to bed every night?” his voice dips lower, teasing, but there’s something else there.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way your stomach tightens. “are you done staring?”

his smirk deepens. “not even close.”

“why are you even here?” you sigh, trying to steer the conversation before you combust under his gaze.

his expression shifts slightly, something more serious flickering beneath the teasing. “couldn’t sleep.” he shrugs, eyes still on you but softer now. “kept thinking about you.”

your breath hitches. you weren’t expecting that.

you hesitate, shifting on your feet. “and what exactly were you thinking about?”

he doesn’t hesitate. “that kiss. both of them.”

you inhale sharply, your heart picking up speed.

he watches you carefully, stepping just close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “tell me i’m the only one who’s been losing sleep over it,” he murmurs. “tell me you don’t think about it too.”

you should brush it off. should laugh, roll your eyes, push him away like you always do.

but you don’t.

“…maybe a little.”

his lips quirk, but it’s not his usual cocky smirk—it’s softer. more real.

“thought so.”

before you can even react, his fingers find yours, brushing over your knuckles before lacing them together. it’s slow, deliberate—like he’s testing the waters, waiting for you to pull away.

you don’t.

he exhales a quiet laugh. “you’re in trouble, sunshine.”

you swallow. “why?”

his thumb traces over the back of your hand, and when he looks at you, there’s something almost fond in his eyes.

“’cause now that i’ve got you like this,” he murmurs, “i don’t think i can let go.”

—

you should go back inside. your parents are asleep just down the hall, and this is the kind of thing they warned you about. sneaking out into the night with a boy like him, hand in hand, heart racing in ways it shouldn’t.

but you don’t let go.

“come on,” he says, his grip tightening just slightly, like he’s afraid you might change your mind. “let’s go somewhere.”

“what? where?” you ask, but you’re already following him down the steps, his hand warm against yours.

he smirks, eyes glinting in the dim light. “trust me.”

and for some reason, you do.

—

the night air is crisp, cool against your skin as the two of you walk through the quiet streets. neither of you say much at first, just the soft scuff of your footsteps on the pavement, the occasional flickering of a streetlight overhead. it’s reckless, it’s stupid, but for some reason, it feels right.

he leads you toward a small park a few blocks away, one you haven’t been to in years. it looks different at night—emptier, quieter, like a hidden world that only the two of you know about.

“seriously?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “you dragged me out of bed for a playground?”

haechan grins, tugging you toward the swings. “come on, sunshine. live a little.”

you huff, but you sit anyway, the chains creaking slightly as you lean back. he takes the swing next to yours, feet planted on the ground, arms draped lazily over the chains.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the city hums softly in the distance, a car passing now and then, but here, in this little forgotten space, it feels like you’re in your own world.

then he breaks the silence.

“so,” he says, voice quieter now. “are you gonna tell me why you kissed me back?”

your fingers tighten around the swing’s chains.

you should lie. should brush it off, make a joke, something.

but instead, you glance at him, finding him already watching you, his usual smirk nowhere in sight.

“…i don’t know,” you admit.

he exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “wrong answer, sunshine.”

you frown. “oh? and what’s the right one?”

he leans in slightly, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him even in the cool night air. his voice drops, teasing but serious all at once.

“that you can’t get me out of your head, either.”

your breath catches.

you could argue. you could deny it. but instead, you just look at him, your heart pounding, and realize—maybe you don’t want to.

—

the morning after sneaking out with haechan, everything feels different.

your room is the same, the sun filtering through your curtains, casting warm streaks of light across your sheets. your parents are in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and toast drifting down the hall like any other saturday morning. nothing has changed.

except it has.

because your mind won’t stop replaying the night before. his voice, his hands, the way he looked at you under the dim glow of the streetlights, with that same dark eyeliner you’ve grown to like. the way he leaned in just close enough that you thought he might kiss you again but never did. the way your heart had pounded the entire walk back home, fingers still tingling from where he had held them, warm and steady.

and the worst part?

you didn’t want it to end.

you go through the day pretending everything is normal.

you do your chores, respond to messages, attempt to start your homework—but it all feels distant, like your mind is somewhere else entirely. every time your phone lights up, you half expect it to be him. but it never is.

and then, just when you think you might be going crazy, your mom’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“you’ve been distracted all morning.”

you blink, looking up from your untouched notebook at the kitchen table. your parents are sitting across from you, your dad flipping through the newspaper, your mom watching you with knowing eyes.

“i’m fine,” you say quickly, too quickly.

she hums, not convinced. “it’s not about that boy, is it?”

your heart stops. “what?”

your dad turns a page in the newspaper, not looking up. “the one you’ve been tutoring,” he says simply. “you know, the one we told you to be careful around.”

your pulse stutters. “it’s—no, of course not.”

your mom raises an eyebrow. “really? because ever since those sessions started, you’ve been acting a little… different.”

“and now you’re all spaced out,” your dad adds, still not looking up. “not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you scoff, forcing out a laugh that sounds almost believable. “as if.”

your mom exhales, satisfied for now. “good. boys like that, they’re nothing but trouble.”

your chest tightens. they don’t know anything. “so you’ve told me.” you sigh.

but instead of arguing, you just nod, mumbling something about needing to study before quickly escaping back to your room.

and the moment the door clicks shut behind you, your phone finally buzzes.

haechan: you up, sunshine?

you hesitate for half a second, holding back the small tug at your lips before responding.

you: yeah, why?

his reply comes instantly.

haechan: meet me? same spot.

your heart skips. you don’t even hesitate.

you: be there in 10.

—

the air feels heavier, like the wind is carrying something unspoken between you. you spot him before he sees you—leaning against the swing set, hoodie pulled over his head, one hand twisting a silver ring around his finger. he looks lost in thought, gaze fixed on the ground until he hears your footsteps.

his head lifts, and when he sees you, his lips twitch into a smirk—lazy, like he knew you’d come.

“thought maybe you wouldn’t show,” he says, rocking back on his heels.

you cross your arms, standing a few steps away. “why?”

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “figured maybe you started listening to your parents.”

you raise a brow. “you’re eavesdropping now?”

nah,” he says easily, stepping closer. “just know how people see me.”

you don’t respond. instead, you take a step closer, letting the silence settle between you.

“so,” you say after a beat, “why’d you call me out here?”

he exhales, tilting his head as he watches you. “needed to see you.”

the words come so easily, like he didn’t even have to think about them. like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your pulse stutters, but you keep your expression even. “and now that you have?”

he grins, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between you. “now?” his voice drops lower, eyes flickering over your face. “now i wanna know why you came.”

you swallow. why did you?

you should have ignored his message, should have listened to every warning sign telling you to stay away.

but standing here, heart pounding, heat rolling off him in waves—

you realize you don’t regret a damn thing.

“i wanted to see you too.” you say lowly.

—

after that night, something shifts.

it starts slow—an unspoken understanding, a magnetic pull that neither of you acknowledge but never fight.

one night turns into another. and then another.

sometimes, he climbs through your window just to talk, arms crossed against your windowsill, voice hushed as he tells you about his day. other times, he doesn’t talk at all, just pulls you close and kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

and maybe you should be afraid too—afraid of how easy it is to let this happen, to want more. but you’re not.

—

you find yourself around him more at school, too.

it’s not obvious, not at first—just stolen glances across the hallway, his shoulder brushing yours when he passes by, the flicker of a smirk when he catches you looking.

but then he starts waiting for you after class, hands stuffed in his pockets, always acting like he just happened to be there. like it wasn’t intentional.

and you let him.

because somehow, being near him feels natural now. even with the tutoring sessions over. he seemed to be doing pretty well in science now anyway.

—

the nights are different. the nights are yours.

sneaking out is reckless, dangerous, a risk you wouldn’t have taken before. but now? now it’s routine.

sometimes, you meet at the park, swinging lazily under the glow of the streetlights. sometimes, he drags you into the city, leading you through neon-lit streets, hands brushing in the dark.

and sometimes—most nights, actually—he’s at your window.

it always starts the same way: a faint rustling, the quiet scrape of sneakers against bark, and then, moments later, his head poking through the window frame with a grin.

“you’ve got to stop leaving this unlocked, sunshine,” he teases, even though you both know you won’t.

and every time, without fail, you roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him when he pulls himself inside, muscles flexing, veins prominent under his skin as he steadies himself.

the first few times, you told yourself this was temporary—just a phase, just him being him.

but then there’s a night where he doesn’t just talk, doesn’t just steal a few kisses before leaving.

there’s a night where he lingers.

where his hands settle on your waist, where he backs you up against your wall, where the air between you is thick with something unspoken, something dangerous.

where he kisses you deeper, hands tracing slow patterns against your skin, like he’s memorizing you.

where you let him.

because at some point, you stopped trying to fight this. stopped trying to pretend you didn’t want it.

because at some point, you stopped caring that he was the kind of boy your parents warned you about.

—

it was one of the nights he had skipped into your room, you greeted him with a smile and things went from there.

his breath is warm against your lips, hands gripping your waist as he backs you into the wall.

he’s been teasing all night—touching you just enough to leave you wanting more, murmuring things in that low, rough voice that made your pulse stutter. but now? now there’s no space left between you, and neither of you are trying to fight it.

his fingers press into your sides, slow and steady, like he’s testing how much you’ll let him take. his lips brush yours once, twice—just enough to make you chase him before he finally kisses you like he means it.

and you let yourself fall into it.

your hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, tugging just enough to draw a quiet groan from his throat. his body presses closer, chest rising and falling against yours, the heat between you dizzying.

“you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he murmurs against your lips, voice thick, almost strained.

you don’t even get the chance to answer before he kisses you again, harder this time, like he’s losing whatever little patience he had left.

his hands slip under your shirt, fingertips skimming your skin, sending shivers up your spine. and you should stop this, should put some distance between you before it’s too late—

but then his hands tighten on your hips, and you feel the way his heart is racing just as fast as yours, and god—

you don’t want to stop.

“tell me to leave,” he murmurs, lips trailing along your jaw, down to the hollow of your throat.

you swallow hard, tilting your head back as he presses closer, as his hands continue their slow exploration.

“tell me you don’t want this,” he says again, but there’s no teasing in his voice this time—just something raw, something vulnerable, something almost pleading.

and you should. you should.

instead, your grip tightens in his hair, and you whisper back, “i don’t want you to.”

his response is immediate—his hands slide lower, pulling you flush against him, and he groans against your lips like he’s just lost whatever last shred of control he had.

“fuck,” he exhales, forehead resting against yours. “you’re really gonna be the end of me, sunshine.”

but he doesn’t stop.

and neither do you.

—

when you finally pull your mouth from his, his lips are swollen, breath uneven as he leans into you, hands still firm on your waist like he can’t bring himself to let go just yet.

you don’t want him to.

but somewhere between the heat of his touch and the way his body presses against yours, reality creeps back in.

your parents are just down the hall.

he shouldn’t even be here.

“we should stop,” you murmur, though the words barely make it out, still breathless from the way he just kissed you.

he exhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he tilts his head back to look at you. his pupils are blown wide, jaw tight like he’s forcing himself to pull back.

“yeah,” he mutters, voice rough. “yeah, we should.”

but neither of you move.

his thumb brushes against your side, like he’s memorizing the feel of you.

“sunshine,” he says softly, like a warning.

you know you have to let him go.

but when he leans in one last time, mouth hovering just over yours, you don’t stop him.

“just one more?” he murmurs, but it’s a lie.

one more turns into two, then three, then a lingering kiss pressed to the corner of your lips, like he’s reluctant to leave you at all.

but eventually, he does.

he steps back first, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to ground himself, like he’s trying to pull himself together before he does something you’ll both regret.

“guess i should go before i completely fuck this up, huh?” he says, forcing a smirk, but you see the hesitation in his eyes.

you nod, but you don’t trust yourself to say anything.

he moves toward the window, but just before climbing out, he looks back, gaze flickering over you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your fingers are still trembling just slightly.

and then, instead of saying goodbye, he just grins.

“try not to miss me too much,” he teases, but there’s something softer beneath the words. something real.

and with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the night like he was never there at all.

except—he was.

you press your fingers against your lips, as if you can still feel him there, and then, you smile.

it’s embarrassing, the way your stomach flutters, the way your cheeks heat up, the way you actually giggle like some lovesick schoolgirl.

you should not be this giddy over a boy like him.

but you are.

and you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore.

—

it was another saturday night, around 12am, your parents long gone to bed.

his hands are warm against your skin, fingers teasing under the hem of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer.

you’re not even thinking anymore—just moving, just feeling. stumbling over your own feet as he walks you back, laughing quietly when you almost trip over a pile of books.

“shh,” you whisper, barely suppressing a giggle.

he grins against your lips. “that was you.”

“doesn’t matter,” you breathe, fingers curling into his shirt, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath the fabric. “just be quiet.”

he hums in amusement, hands sliding up your sides, his touch slow, deliberate, testing. “you always tell me what to do, sunshine?”

“someone has to.”

“mm,” he leans in, lips brushing your jaw, hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing the fabric up just slightly—waiting for permission.

you exhale, whispering a word of approval.

he doesn’t hesitate. he tugs your shirt up, just enough to expose more of your skin—

knock.

the door swings open.

“what are you doing—?”

you freeze.

haechan freezes.

your mom stands in the doorway, eyes locking onto the scene in front of her—haechan’s hands still on you, his hoodie discarded on the floor, your shirt lifted just enough to make it painfully obvious what was happening.

for a second, no one moves.

no one breathes.

haechan is the first to react, stepping back so fast he almost knocks over your chair. he runs a hand through his hair, like he’s trying to play it cool, like there’s any coming back from this.

you don’t dare turn around.

your heart pounds in your chest, face burning hotter than ever before. this time not with the same heat.

your mom inhales sharply, voice eerily calm.

“downstairs. now.”

the finality in her tone sends a chill down your spine.

haechan glances at you, expression unreadable, but you can’t look at him.

because this time, you’re really in trouble.

—

▸ j.note ; finally releasing this lmao it’s been in the sm basement for quite some time now

2K notes · View notes

nadvs · 8 days ago

Text

the power play (part five)

pairing hockeyplayer! rafe cameron x tutor! reader

rating mature 18+

summary rafe is your complete opposite. the only thing you have in common with the hockey player you tutor is that he’s also recently had his heart broken. in a last-ditch effort to make the people who hurt you regret it, you agree to pretend to date.

< prev

You haven’t spoken to Rafe since he angrily left your dorm three nights ago.

You’re sitting in your booked study room, waiting for him to arrive, wondering if he’ll be regretful of your argument or be ready for round two or pretend it never happened.

Either way, you’d prefer to make light of it and move on. He may no longer be your fake boyfriend, if he really meant what he said, but you’re still going to be seeing him every week.

You hope that you can just give him back his jersey and leave what happened in the past.

The guilt that Rafe has been running from catches up to him once he walks in and sees you. He blew up the other night and you met him with understanding he’s never been given before, softness he doesn’t know what to do with.

“Let’s just get it out in the open,” you say as the door clicks shut behind him. “We fought. I was expecting a bouquet of apology roses, but maybe they got lost in the mail?”

He huffs. Typical of you to make a joke about it.

He sits down, slouched back as he unpacks his things, his long legs stretched out beneath the table. He doesn’t know what to say and is relieved, for once, that you fill the silence.

“I get why you got annoyed,” you say, “but I haven't changed my mind. This doesn’t have to be weird. No hard feelings, right?”

His jaw tenses as he sets your copy of We Have Always Lived in the Castle on the desk. He got through it quickly. And he actually didn’t hate it.

He’s sure it was only because reading killed the time he’d normally had spent training, but he figures this is a good enough topic to start with.

“I finished it,” he murmurs, looking down at the paperback. “It was good.”

“Oh. Wow,” you say, perking up. “You liked it?”

He nods, earning a prideful smile from you.

“Because…?”

“It was short,” he says.

“You walked into this room, I think a month ago to the day, and looked insulted when I asked you if you liked reading,” you say. “And now you’re telling me you enjoyed a book. That’s huge. I need way more than it was short.”

“You’re being a lot right now.”

“I know.” Your smile doesn’t falter. You motion for his laptop, he hands it to you, and you open a new document. “Keep talking. What did you like about it?”

“It got to the point.”

“The prose is very clear,” you agree, typing in the note. “What’d you think of the twist at the end? Did you see it coming?”

“No.”

“This is why I love this class. It introduces you to books you might’ve never picked up,” you gush, then take a breath. “You better not be trying to trick me. You knew I’d get excited about this and forget that we argued. But I’m already over it. Okay, I’m talking too much. Your turn.”

The relief of seeing you act like you normally do has lifted the weight that’s been sinking into Rafe since the night he snapped at you.

Now that he’s with you again, confined in a room he didn’t think he’d ever not mind being in, there’s no avoiding the fact that you have an effect on him.

Against his expectations, he cares about what you think. About how you feel. And he just wants to fix this.

“You don’t know what my fights with her used to be like,” he says. “I’ve heard it all.”

You still for a moment, then rest your elbow on the table, chin in your hand as you gaze at him through compassionate eyes.

You can sympathize that not knowing what Emma said is irritating him, but you couldn’t repeat her cruel words, even if you wanted to.

“I understand,” you say, “but I can’t bring myself to tell you something that’ll just hurt you.”

“That’s my point,” he scoffs. “It won’t hurt me.”

“It could.”

Rafe sinks into the realization that he’ll just have to take the loss here. You’re not going to tell him what he wants to know, because you don’t want to wound him. Even though he kind of deserves it for his outburst.

“I know I…” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know I didn’t have to lose it on you like that the other night.”

“Yeah,” you breathe a defeated chuckle. “You didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

He fans through the book just to have something to do with his hands.

You take in the remorse etched into his handsome face and you admire that even though he can be rash, he tries to clean up the messes he makes, pushing aside his ego when he needs to.

“We’re past it,” you conclude. You look at the laptop screen again, glad this will be a clean break. “Let’s write what we can about this book first and then go back to the other essay. What else did you like?”

Rafe expected that you’d bounce back after your rift. Your positivity is so relentless that it almost tires him out. But he needs to make sure you know he uttered those words out of disingenuous impulse.

“I didn’t really mean that we should end it,” he clarifies.

You look at him again, a crease formed between his brows.

“Are you trying to un-break up with me?” you tease. “This is awkward. I already started pretend-dating one of the other guys I tutor.”

“You tutor other guys?” he asks before thinking.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” you play along.

Rafe’s chest pinches. He doesn’t know why he assumed you exclusively tutored him. He thought he was the only one you see like this, the only one you ramble to and nag and joke with. Why does he hate that he’s not?

“Come on,” he murmurs, shoving past the unwelcome thought. “I know you miss me.”

You laugh. His typical brand of humor is detached and blunt and it’s nice to see another side of him, a playful side that makes him seem warm.

“I have to think about it.” You shrug. “Okay. We’re back together. I had a feeling you were just being mean the other night anyway.”

Rafe’s lips fall into a guilty frown. Without thinking, he scratches the back of his neck, grimacing and letting out a sharply exhaled fuck as his shoulder stings in pain.

“Are you okay?” you ask, serious now.

“Yeah,” he grunts.

“Convincing,” you say. “What is it?”

He sees no reason to hide it. You did tell him that he can vent to you and if there’s anyone he’d complain to about this, it’s you.

He’d rather not tell anyone on the team. Not even his closest friends. He doesn’t want to look weak.

“My shoulder’s fucked up,” he admits.

“Is it from that board check the other night?”

He nods and says, “Physio said it’s a strained muscle.”

“How bad?”

“I’m benched. He’ll look at it again before game two.”

“You mean you can’t play the first game of the championship?” you surmise.

Rafe’s tight expression tells you that you assumed correctly. You grimace sympathetically.

“Did he say if you can use anything to help with the pain?”

“Heat when it gets bad,” he says.

“I’ll be right back,” you say.

He watches you rush out, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. Moments later, you come back with an instant hot compress and place it on the desk in front of him.

“The library has a bunch of first aid kits,” you tell him, sitting back down.

“How’d you know that?” Rafe squeezes the package in one hand, the subdued pop cracking through the small room. “You really like it here that much?”

“A student of mine got a papercut once,” you explain with a laugh. “But yes, I do enjoy being surrounded by books.”

“Right,” he huffs, still in disbelief of how different you two are. “Thanks.”

He rests the package on top of his shoulder, comforting heat spilling through his t-shirt.

When Rafe lets out a velvety, satisfied groan, you find yourself flustered within half a second. Your mind sprints away from you. A mere sound has never made every inch of you tense like this before.

Your imagination can’t keep doing this to you, but it feels impossible to ignore the physical pull you’re starting to feel towards him.

You swallow hard and look at the laptop again, blinking.

This is bad.

You’re crossing the line and you need to yank yourself back into rationality. Rafe is a friend and all the affection he’s given you has been a sham and it’s disconcerting that you keep having to remind yourself of that.

You know he could never give you what you need in a relationship. The last time you saw him was cold, hard proof of that. He’s much too volatile to make a good boyfriend.

And that’s accompanied by a very big if he even likes you like that, which you highly doubt, given how easily you frustrate him. You refuse to overthink, to tumble into infatuation with another man who’ll just hurt you.

“Anyways,” you say, your eyes locked on the screen. “We really should get to work.”

════════

With ten minutes left of the session, Rafe’s laptop dies. You slide it towards him, disappointed you couldn’t upload the essay you’d just finished before the battery drained.

“Make sure to submit it before midnight,” you say. “Oh, and Lyla and Beck’s parents are hosting their birthday party on Saturday, so consider me unavailable for fake girlfriend duties that night.”

Rafe opens his backpack, pushing his laptop in as he mulls over your words. That sounds like the type of event you’d want him to come to.

“Do you need me there?” he asks.

“You were invited,” you say, “but I’ll say you were busy. You’d hate it. It’s an hour away, with a bunch of strangers you’d have to impress, and there’s obviously no way your ex would be there. I can do this on my own.”

Rafe stills before he speaks again.

“Do you need me there?” he repeats, more evenly.

It riled him up to see Emma leave the last party with another guy. To see his arm around her at the game. He hoped he’d be able to count on you to be by his side if he sees them together again this weekend.

But mostly, and more importantly, picturing you at that birthday party alone, in the same room with the guy who hurt you, all because you didn’t want to make Rafe feel forced into going, gnaws at him.

You stare at him, trying to make sense of his tight expression. It’s confusing that he’s still even in this room, asking if you want his help after you’ve given him an out.

“Are you sure?” you ask. You’re positive you’d be fine without him, but he’s sort of become a security blanket.

“I’ve… seen her around with some guy,” he tells you. “It’d be good to get away from campus. And I owe you for losing my cool the other night.”

“Do you even have a cool?” you chuckle.

Rafe glares at you, but it’s proven disingenuous by the small, dimpled smirk he chooses not to stifle.

“I hope I’m with you the next time you see them together,” you say. “Anyways, we can drive up together, then?”

Your eyes brighten with your smile. He doesn’t know if anyone has ever looked at him like that, purely and truly excited to spend time with him.

“A bunch of friends from high school will be there, and obviously Beck and Lyla’s parents, who basically consider me their daughter,” you continue, “so we’ll need to be convincing. It’s a casual dinner, then we’ll just hang out as long as we want. Can you pick me up at five?”

“Yeah,” he says. He stands up, pulling his bag over his good shoulder. “See you.”

You watch him pace towards the door, relieved that you’ll have him there, grateful that he's doing this for you even though you’re certain he really doesn’t want to.

“Hey,” you mumble. He looks at you again. You motion to his injury. “Be careful with your shoulder. And… you’re going to call me corny, but I’m really glad you’re coming.”

A few seconds of silence pass between you.

“You’re corny,” he replies.

You share a smile before he steps out of the study room into the quiet library.

Emptiness abruptly digs into his chest once he’s not with you, growing deeper the farther he walks away.

You’re unlike anyone he’s known. You don’t try to hide how much you care about him and you see things in him he didn’t know were there and you combat his temper with humor and with tenderness and with reassurance that makes him feel like he’s not irreversibly fucking up all the time.

He’s never felt like this before. Like the void he’s always trying to fill isn’t bottomless after all.

════════

Your exhale is shaky as Rafe exits the freeway with only a few minutes left of the drive to Beck and Lyla’s home.

You pull down the sun visor, gazing at your reflection. You’re suddenly quiet and fidgety after you’d chattered for most of the ride.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “And why the hell do I have to ask?”

You chuckle, catching his implication that you typically blab about what’s bothering you without him having to check in.

“I don’t know how I’m going to look their parents in the eye and lie.”

“It’s that hard to pretend to like me?” Rafe murmurs. He’s glad there’s no edge to his tone, glad he can hide that your words stung him a little.

“No,” you chuckle. “When you’re being nice, I like you. Just not like that, obviously.”

Obviously. It’s happening again, the painful crook in his core, the tangled feelings that just keep twisting together.

He used to not care if you liked him. Because he didn’t like you. But your last conversation did something to him, something that was already quietly building up, something that he needs to strip before it sticks.

After every fight he had with Emma, he sensed the palpable cracks forming between them. With you, things felt stronger once you moved past your argument.

Fuck. Why is he thinking about you like you’re his actual girlfriend, comparing his last relationship? This is the last thing he needs.

“It just feels… official. Like I’m bringing a boy home,” you continue. “Nobody’s seen me in a relationship before and they might question your intentions and I don’t want it to be weird.”

You look in the mirror again.

“And I think I’m having a bad hair day. And a bad face day. And I kind of hate my outfit.”

Rafe can’t take your nonsense. Insinuating that you’re anything short of beautiful is the most ridiculous thing he’s heard you say.

He shuts the visor and utters, “You’re doing that overthinking shit again.”

“Okay, so, that’s a perfect example of you not being nice,” you laugh.

You know if you really liked him as more than a friend, his curtness would hurt you. It’s reassuring, the realization that your attraction to Rafe will never be more than physical.

You breathe a sigh, anticipating being with your friends again after you’ve parted ways to different colleges. You wonder if anyone’s changed in the few months since.

You glance over at Rafe.

“What were you like in high school?” you ask.

“The same,” he answers.

“So, just as warm and cuddly?” you tease.

He smirks. You smile like you do every time you crack his facade. It always makes you feel a little proud.

“Better when I started playing hockey,” he relents. “How about you?”

You purse your lips in thought.

“What do you mean better?” you prod.

Rafe’s in no mood to elaborate, stiffly repeating, “How about you?”

You roll your eyes. It’s like pulling teeth, getting this man to share anything.

“I haven’t really changed much,” you reply. He finds himself thinking that it’d be a shame if you ever did.

Rafe follows the GPS to pull into a quiet suburban street. He slows down in front of the house and parks. You gaze out your window to see helium balloons surrounding the front door and reach for the handle.

“Hey,” he rasps.

You turn your head to meet his eyes.

“You don’t need to freak out. We got this. And you…” He looks away. “You look good.”

The words are tight coming out of his mouth, like he really didn’t want to have to say them.

You start to thank him, but he’s already stepping out of the car.

════════

The party is so busy that you and Rafe disappear in the crowd. He stands close by as you catch up with your friends, remembering details about where they’ve gone after graduation, asking questions, making jokes.

When it’s time for dinner, you sit next to him at the table, diagonal to Beck, who has done nothing but flash you awkward smiles here and there.

He’s hardly spoken to you. You wish you weren’t doing it again, second-guessing if he really is jealous.

You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I didn’t get a chance to say hi,” Lyla’s mother says. You smile at her and sit up to give her a hug.

“There’s a lot of people,” you say understandingly.

“My kids are too social,” she jokes quietly, leaning over. She looks over at Rafe. “You must be…?”

“Rafe,” you say. His smile is faint, but believable.

“I hope you know I have to grill you a little,” she tells him.

“I know,” he says, glancing at you. “She warned me.”

He’s playing it entirely cool. You’re relieved. You had nothing to worry about. He has this handled.

“How’d you meet?” she asks.

“I’m his tutor,” you tell her.

“Always been a smart one,” she replies, squeezing your hand. “Is that what made you like her?”

Your eyes land on Rafe again, nerves pricking your spine.

“It’s… one a lot of things, yeah,” he says.

“What else?”

Rafe’s heart thrums.

“I don’t know anyone like her.” His eyes soften as he looks at you, the amusement in them replaced by a depth you’ve only ever seen in glimpses, when his guard slips a little. “And she has a good heart.”

“She does,” Lyla’s mother says, straightening to stand. “You better treat her right.”

“I will,” he says with a nod. When she steps away, you nudge his knee with yours.

“That was amazing,” you say. Your praise gives him a high.

“I’m a great liar,” he replies.

You nudge him again, laughing.

“I don’t care,” you say. “You can’t take any of that back.”

He wouldn’t want to anyway. It was the truth.

════════

After dinner, Beck and Lyla’s mother brings out an ornate cake, prompting the room to break out in song. You watch Beck and Lyla blow out the candles as everyone applauds.

“I’ll never forget what the nurse said the day you two were born,” their father announces as he stands by the head of the table, holding a glass up. “Even when they’re big, you’ll picture them this small. And it’s true.”

He looks down, nodding curtly, lips twisting.

“Here we go again,” Lyla laughs.

“He cries every year,” you explain to Rafe in a hush.

He gazes at your profile as their dad continues his toast. He was aware you knew Beck for a long time, for years, but seeing this makes it real.

He can picture it now, you spending your adolescence in this house, making memories with this family, falling for the guy sitting on the other side of the table who brushed you off, who’s blind to how happy you make everyone around you.

The night you sat on that kitchen counter in that frat house back on campus, your eyes deepened with a sadness that hardly ever comes across your face, and you told him what you saw in Beck. What made you fall for him.

Fun. Kind. Nice to everybody.

And it’s a reminder of why this fire that’s growing inside Rafe for you needs to be put out. He’s the antithesis of the guy you’re in love with. You’d never want him like that.

“I’m so proud of both of you,” their father continues. “Happy birthday.”

Rafe looks down at his plate, wishing he’d been prepared for the wave of pain that’s crashing down on him as the sounds of conversation and dishes rattling and joyous laughter ricochet across the room.

He hates to admit it to himself, but Beck has everything he wants, down to a father who’s proud of his son.

He glances over at you again, but you’re still looking at Beck, your smile both happy and sad, your eyes trained on the one person you’re doing all of this for.

════════

The party moves to the rec room after Beck and Lyla’s parents wish everyone a good night.

Rafe’s hand is in yours as you lead him down the carpeted stairs, then settle on the plush sectional couch next to him as you chat with your friends.

He always hated his impulsivity. He was just telling himself to put out the fire, but he only throws fuel onto it when he curls an arm around your waist, pulling you closer the moment Beck walks in.

You nuzzle in, shifting to look at him again, your noses nearly bumping from how close you are.

“It’s the other shoulder?” you confirm softly, making sure you aren’t putting pressure on where he’s hurting.

“Yeah,” he says.

You nod and absorb yourself back into the group’s conversation. Your back is pressed against his chest and he hopes you don’t feel how hard his heart is pounding.

But he knows that the way you make him feel isn’t unique to him. He sees it now that you’re with your friends. You make everyone feel this way, like you want them around.

Drinks start getting passed. You look at Rafe again.

“I’m staying sober tonight,” you tell him. “Thought I should reassure you that I won’t be inviting myself over for another sleepover.”

He wants to ask why that’d be such a bad thing and it’s like he left his sanity upstairs, because now he’s wondering what the hell he’s doing wanting to flirt with you.

“Everyone’s playing,” Lyla announces as she places a box in the middle of the coffee table. “And nobody’s allowed to sit out. You legally can’t say no to the birthday girl.”

“It’s my birthday, too,” Beck says.

“Who cares?” Lyla jokes, opening the box. “It’s truth or dare. We’ll take turns picking a card and reading it out loud and if you won’t do either or you fail at a dare, you have to drink.”

“Oh, no,” you whisper to Rafe.

“Just be happy you found a way to read at a party,” he replies.

You crack a genuine laugh. His lips pull into a smile as he watches you, gratified that the joy you’re feeling right now is entirely because of him.

You feel Beck’s stare on you from his spot on the couch a couple of people away. You look up at him and he looks away and it’s like a discombobulating shove into the past, reminding you of when you’d catch him staring and let your mind run away with daydreams.

The feeling of Rafe’s arm tightening around you grounds you in reality, but it also sends a rush of heat through you and you hate that it does that.

“Truth: what's something you're glad your family doesn't know about you?” Lyla reads out. “Or dare: keep your eyes closed for three full minutes. Easy. Dare.”

She closes her eyes, then points to her right. The game continues around the circle and when it’s your turn to pick, you select a card, feeling everyone but Lyla’s stare on you.

“Truth: what’s the last excuse you used to cancel plans? Dare: don’t laugh or smile until your next turn.”

“Worst dare you could’ve gotten,” Rafe murmurs.

“You’d never manage,” your friend, Marcus chuckles.

You laugh, then laugh again when you realize you just proved both of them right.

“Damn it,” you say. “You know what? I’ll take the dare.”

You put the card down on the table and exhale deeply, trying to focus.

Rafe’s eyes flit to Marcus, whose eyes stay on you longer than he’d like them to.

“Your turn,” you say to Rafe, stone-faced.

He’d rather not play this, but he’s supposed to be acting like a good boyfriend. Besides, there’s something about disappointing you that makes him feel worse than disappointing anyone else.

He leans forward, his arm lifting off of you for a moment, and picks up a card. His hand settles on your hip again as he reclines, his bicep hard against your back.

He’s only staring at the card, so you tilt your head back to read it aloud for him.

“When was the last time you cried? Or, let someone in the room write whatever they want on you with a permanent marker.”

You look at him, holding back your smile, knowing you’re both thinking the same thing. As his girlfriend, it’d make sense that you’d be the one to mark his body.

He would never admit to crying, especially to a group of strangers. The reminder of Emma’s words, of how she’d said he called her in tears, makes your stomach drop. Suddenly, not smiling doesn’t take any effort anymore.

“Dare,” you answer for him. “I need a marker.”

“I’ll get it. Someone help me,” Lyla says, her eyes still shut as she stands. She feels for her way around the room as one of your mutual friends stands up to accompany her. “Keep playing!”

The next person starts their turn, and you take Rafe’s free hand and rest his arm across his lap, gently to not tug too hard and strain his shoulder.

It’s a shock how instinctually you did it, how touching him is natural now, yet still manages to make your heart race a little faster every time you do it.

“I’m going for a meaningful one. I’m thinking my name,” you tease, running your finger up the length of the inside of his forearm, eyes travelling over the faint lines of veins, “from here to here. Sound good?”

“No,” he answers gruffly. You crack a smirk. “And you lost your dare.”

“Don’t tell,” you mumble, forcing your smile away. “You know I can’t hold my alcohol.”

When both girls come back downstairs, Lyla blindly hands you the marker. You meet Rafe’s stare before you look down at his arm.

“The card said whatever I want,” you say quietly, mischief in your tone.

He watches you lean in, eyelashes fluttering as you blink, lips pursing in thought. The wet ink hits the inside of his wrist and his stomach goes numb when you start to slide the smooth, thin end of the marker over him, your thumb gently pressing into his skin as you hold him steady.

Rafe stares as you concentrate, and he starts to breathe a little deeper simply because the way you smell has become a comfort now, a familiarity, a hit of dopamine.

You sit up seconds later. He looks down to see Room 205 written in small, black characters. Your study room.

“You’ll never forget where to go,” you say happily. “Well, until it washes off.”

You finally meet his eyes again. He’s wearing the same concentrated look you’ve seen before, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“What, did you really expect I’d write something that bad?” you say as you snap the cap back on the marker.

The group continues with the next round, and when it’s your turn again, you have to choose between sharing your biggest insecurity or whispering a secret to someone in the room.

“Dare,” you decide, putting the card on the table and leaning back, lifting your chin to whisper into Rafe’s ear.

He slightly angles his head so that nobody can read your lips, shivers spreading over his skin from the feeling of your cheek on his.

“You’re probably my favorite student that I’ve ever tutored,” you say quietly.

It’s not a lie. Even with all his flaws, Rafe has given you something you’re not sure anybody else would have. He came into your life at the perfect time, came up with the perfect idea, and you’re deeply grateful for it.

He hastily cups your jaw, his hand so large it covers your cheek completely, as he tilts your head so he can tell you something, too. His lips brush over the shell of your ear.

“Just probably?” he whispers back. “That’s bullshit.”

You pull back, laughing, your eyes lingering on him.

“Don’t start making out, please,” Lyla teases.

You roll your eyes and look at the group again.

“I’ll spare you all the PDA,” you reply.

“Why start now?” a friend jokes.

“Yeah,” Beck quietly huffs. An ache of confusion rattles through you.

The game carries on, but Beck’s eyes linger on you. He’s never looked at you like this before. And it makes you believe what Rafe has been telling you this entire time.

════════

You leave the party holding Rafe’s hand and untangle your fingers from his the moment you’re out of the house, the moment there aren’t any eyes on you.

Rafe’s palm is cold now that your touch is gone.

Again, he’s powerless to the way his heart does whatever it wants and doesn’t give his head a chance to catch up.

He wasn’t supposed to like you.

He never expected to.

But when he looks at you as you tread towards his car together and the hushed moonlight bathes your features in its glow and you offer him that smile that makes his heart splinter in a way it never has, he yields to the truth, unable to put up a fight any longer.

He’s hopeless. You’ve pulled him under. And he had no choice but to let you.

next >

author’s note and the yearning (that eventually turns mutual) begins 🙂‍↕️

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron

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adelicatebubble · 3 months ago

Note

more hcs about dae ho as a father and his breeding kink please!!

kang dae-ho as a dad | sfw - nsfw | headcanons ᰔ .ᐟ

- he's shocked when you mention wanting to start a family with him

- 'a baby? with me? you're sure? you want a mini you or me running around?'

- he's wanted it so badly for a while, but he never wanted to pressure you into it

- once he knows you're both okay with it, he'll want to start trying immediately

- he's over the moon when he finds out the two of you are expecting

- he'll start researching everything from parenting books, childbirth classes, and even goes to his sisters for advice

- before even reaching your second trimester, the nursery is already set up as well as your hospital bag and a small list of baby names

- stockpiles on baby supplies; diapers, pacifiers, rattles and other cute toys, strollers, blankets. this man goes all out

- he will often crouch down to kiss your stomach and talk to the baby

- 'i think she'll have your eyes'

- 'how do you know it's a girl?'

- 'just a feeling, my love'

- he'll take care of all of your pregnancy cravings

- throughout your trimesters he's so incredibly protective of you, ensuring your safety everywhere you go

- you and the baby are his number one priority

- he wants you to depend on him, but also be independent in your own right

- he wants you to feel supported every step of the way

- reassurance is a given with him

- 'you're safe with me, i'm here alright?'

- 'whatever happens, we're in this together'

- he adores kids very much (and the thought of you with his!)

- he finds you being good with kids so attractive

- no doubt in my mind that this man is the best girl dad

- also four sisters-in-law, you two have all the support in the world

- he'll be the gentle but firm type of parent

- if you're exhausted, he'll take over for you

- 'shh~ your mom is resting, let her get some rest, yeah?'

- he's so relieved when your newborn is finally placed in his arms, he wouldn't be able to help himself smiling at you in adoration

- 'look at what we made' he smiles down at your baby lovingly

- dae-ho couldn't be any happier with the three of you

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ˎˊ˗ nsfw under the cut

- he desperately wants to get you pregnant so he can experience having a big family again, like how he grew up with four older sisters, it's what he's used to

- even after you have your first child together, he still wants to give you more

- thoughts of you being a mother to his kids turn him on so much

- he thinks you would look so pretty pregnant

- he'll be very curious about how your milk tastes so expect him to beg to try it

- very, very passionate sex

- he has a huge breeding kink

- he can go for hours with his military stamina

- when breeding you, you'll go for multiple rounds just so that he can be sure that you're carrying his baby

- 'are you going to be able to fit another load inside you, hm?'

- he fits inside you perfectly, massaging your insides

- 'fuck baby, you take me in so well'

- 'it's like you were made for me'

- he becomes quite possessive

- 'you're all mine, every inch of you is mine.'

- he won't instantly pull out, he'll stay put for a while almost as if he's plugging you

- when he does pull out, if his cum starts to leak out he'll softly fuck it back in

- 'we can't be sure you're pregnant just yet'

#squid game #squid game imagines #dae ho #dae ho smut #dae ho squid game #dae ho x reader #daeho #kang dae ho #kang dae ho x reader #kang daeho #squid game dae ho #squid game smut #kang ha neul

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marvelwitchergilmore · 6 months ago

Text

Medical Emergency

Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fe!Reader -> When Jake gets a call asking to pick you up from the hospital, it's safe to say he's confused. Especially considering neither of you were known for getting along with the other.

Disclaimer: Enemies to lovers, brother's best friend, descriptions of being ill (nothing fully specified, just fainting a lot, low blood sugar and hormones), swearing, fluff, steamy moments, he takes care of you. This has been in my w.i.p for a while now so it's kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

It was safe to say Jake was confused to find out he was your emergency contact.

It was known to most people in the town that you and Jake weren’t exactly the best of friends. The hatred started all back when he was brought into Top Gun the first time round. Before he suddenly became the best, of the best of the best. And each year he came back, it only got worse.

Neither of you would be surprised if everyone in San Diego knew about how much you and Jake didn’t get along.

So, yeah. Getting a call from a Nurse called Emma telling him he needed to come and pick you up from the hospital…he was confused.

He’d spent most of the day training the new recruits at Top Gun. He was on base when he got the call, but twenty minutes later, he was parked outside the hospital and was being shown to your room.

“She’s to take two of these every six hours for the next three days. If she has any drastic changes; dizziness, nausea, vomiting, etc. Bring her back. But she should be okay.”

He hadn’t even been told what had happened.

Then he saw you.

On a typical day, your hair was either up or down. You typically wore bright colours since the kids in your class like to point them out and name them. And even at the end of the week when you’d walk into the Hard Deck, Penny already having your drink waiting for you, and you’d look tired and ready to go to bed, you were still…bright. Put together.

But from where he was standing, you were dressed in grey sweats and a Top-Gun hoodie. Most likely, you thought it was your brother’s. But from the worn hole around the edge of it let Jake know it was his. One your brother had never returned to him.

You looked…like you needed to be comforted.

Your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail at the base of your skull. Any hints of make-up had been long washed away. Your nail polish was chipped, if not already peeled from your nails.

Finally slipping your shoes on, you stood slowly. You looked like you needed to sleep for a year, and maybe take another nap for eight months.

“Just sign here and here and then you’re free to go.”

Jake watched as the nurse’s words just about registered in your ears before you slowly picked the pen up from her hand and signed your name at the bottom of the paper.

Reaching to grab the rest of your stuff, Jake almost swooped forwards. “I’ve got it.”

You just nodded. “Thanks.”

Any other day, you would have told him you could do it yourself and tell him to fuck off.

He picked up your overnight bag and, with a hand at the bottom of your back, led you out of the hospital.

“This way.”

You followed him back to his car and once he knew you were safe inside the passenger seat, he rounded the car and got into his seat.

“I did tell them just to call me a cab. You can just drop me off down the road. You don’t need to-”

“I’m not letting you walk home.” He told you. “What’s your address?”

Part of Jake wished you’d fight him more about walking home. At least that way he’d know you were actually okay. He still would have driven you home, but…he wanted you back.

Typing your address into his phone, he followed the sat-nav.

By the time he pulled up outside your house, you were asleep. He waited for five minutes, letting you sleep whilst he researched and read the prescription you’d been given.

Then he looked up at your house. You had to have a spare key.

Carefully, he left his car and walked up your path. He looked in all the typical places until he found a small patch of wood from your porch coming loose. Inside was your key.

So, opening your door and carrying your things inside, he came back for you.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, he placed one of your arms around his neck before placing his own arms around your back and under your legs.

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

And you did.

Shutting the door to his car with his back, he carried you into your house, shutting your front door with his foot before taking you into your bedroom and laying you on top of your sheets. Looking around, he found a basket of blankets just under your window.

However, as he covered you up, he checked your temp with the back of his hand. You seemed okay.

Then you reached for him.

It was only for a few seconds, but you held his hand before your body fell back to sleep.

Before he left your room, Jake got you a glass of water and left your window on a latch. And then he stayed.

Kicking off his boots by the door, he locked everything up around your home before laying down on top of the guest bed with a million and one questions circling around his head.

Why was he your emergency contact? What had happened? Why didn’t anyone else tell him you were in the hospital for, clearly, more than a couple of hours?

You spent the next two days in and out of consciousness. The hospital told Jake not to worry and that it was a good sign you were sleeping. He’d wake you every couple of hours and give you your tablets.

And each time, you’d wake up with the same confusion of how and why he was in your house. And then you’d remember. And apologise. And thank him. Before he’d tell you to lay back down and get some rest.

By the time you came round, you woke up to texts pinging on your phone.

How could you not tell me you were dating someone?

We SERIOUSLY need to catch up about this when you’re back in.

Your boyfriend called the school. Why is this how I’m finding out you’re sick?

Get better soon, honey xoxo

Also, don’t worry about the kids. I’ve got your class covered.

One of your fellow-teacher best friends. You and her had joined the school as teachers in the same year. She had been away on a cruise for the last two weeks.

Slowly, everything that had happened over the last two days came flooding back to you. They had called Jake. He had come to get you at the hospital. He kept waking you up. Had he stayed that whole time? Was he the one to call your school?

Pulling yourself from your bed and heading to the bathroom, you caught a look of yourself in the mirror. You looked…rough. And also the exact same as you had when you’d left the hospital. Maybe there was a little more colour in your cheeks.

And you did feel better.

The room felt still and you didn’t feel like throwing up all your insides out, despite being unable to do so.

Drying your hands on the towel, you made your way through your home. Things were…tidy. Militarily so. The last time your place, although tidy, had looked militarily tidy had been when your brother had visited you before he got deployed again.

So, either, he was here now. Jake was still here. Or you had a ghost haunting your house that just so happened to be in the Navy.

Walking down the stairs, you found a pair of boots at the bottom of your stairs. They definitely weren’t yours.

Then you heard someone in the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread and chicken noodle soup wafted through your home.

It was a minute or two before Jake spotted you. It felt like a fever dream, watching him in your kitchen, dressed normally, a towel slung over his shoulder as he slid the bread buns from the tray to a cooling rack.

“Oh, hey. You’re awake.”

You nodded. “Did you cook?”

“How are you feeling?” Jake made his way over to you, his hand coming to touch your forehead and cheeks. You swatted his hands away. You could have sworn you saw him smile after you did it.

“Get off me, I’m fine.”

Jake smiled as he watched you make your way to sit down on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You looked way better than you had done when he saw you in the hospital.

“What day is it?”

“Tuesday.” He told you, continuing to slide all but one of the bread buns onto the cooling back. The final one, he dropped onto a plate before dishing out a bowl of the soup.

“Eat up. You’re gonna need your strength.”

You looked at the food in front of you. “You made this?”

“I made it.”

You looked at him sceptically. “Is this how you plan to kill me? She was weak, your honour. I just wanted to help her.”

“Why would I take care of you for three days and then kill you? It’d be easier if I did it in three days.”

“So you did think about it.”

Jake rolled his eyes and handed you a fork. “Just eat.”

You couldn’t lie, it was one of the best meal’s you’d had in a long time. And as you ate, you looked around your home. Your books had been tidied away and back onto your shelves. All except two. One you were part way through reading and one that was…almost finished. But not by you.

You didn’t notice as Jake watched you take everything in. Your books, your pots of pens. You dish towels, your spices and other baking ingredients. Some had even been put into the jars you had been meaning to fill back up. Then you noticed the smaller things. Like how he’d put up the wooden signs in your kitchen you’d been planning to do for months, and how he’d cleaned…everything.

It looked like he’d done a complete renovation of your place whilst you’d been knocked out.

Then you noticed the pile of papers on your kitchen counter.

The English and maths tests you’d given to your class a few weeks ago. You hadn’t finished marking them.

But Jake had.

You took the top paper and looked it over.

“Did you mark these?” You flipped through the pages. Not only were they marked, but they were marked correctly. They even had a sticker on each of “well done” or “great stuff”.

You heard Jake chuckle. “I am a teacher, too, you know.”

“You’re a…Top Gun instructor. Not a third-grade teacher.”

“I do suppose I am over qualified to help but-”

You shook your head. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so insulting.

“No, I-I mean, thank you. But you didn’t have to do this. Any of this.” You gestured around your home. “You already did enough bringing me home.”

“I wanted to ask you about that. Why was it me that brought you home? Surely you have people who you actually like, to be your emergency contact?”

Tyler watched as you fell silent and searched for the words to tell him.

“You’re…not.” Taking a breath, you looked up at him. “They…they tried a couple of people. They couldn’t make it. One of the nurses knows Penny so called and asked if she had anyone’s number who I knew. I did try and tell them to just call me a cab.”

He let your words settle over him.

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who else did you call? Who didn’t pick up?”

You listed them off. Most were people in your family and a couple of friends.

“I would have fought them on it but-”

“I’m glad you called me.” Jake admitted you. And it struck you. “Give me your phone.”

You slid it over to him. And he called his number from your phone.

“If anything like that happens again, I want you to call me.”

“Jake-”

He shook his head. “You’re not fighting me on this. Fight me on everything else. Anything else. But not this. Call me.”

So you just nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. And eat up, too.”

You did. “You say that as if we’ve got some place to be.”

“We do.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

Twenty minutes later he practically shoved you into your bathroom en-suit telling you to shower and get changed.

“I thought my nurse was meant to be kind.”

“I am kind!” He said. “And I’m not a nurse. And I’m a friend.”

You laughed a little at that one.

“I’ve seen the inside of your junk drawer. I’m your friend. I have to be, or else I don’t have a word for it.”

He did have a point on that. Your junk drawer…even you hadn’t seen the inside of that thing in at least a year.

So, after getting dressed, taking the last of your antibiotic and forcing some kind of health smoothie Hangman had made you with the blender he found at the back of your cupboard, you found yourself back in the passenger seat of his car.

“Where are we going?”

He said nothing, just smiled and pulled the aviators from his collar and put them on before starting his engine and for a moment you wondered if that was what he did when he got into his jet. Flash his million-dollar smile before starting his jet engine and taking off into the sky. For a moment you wondered what it would be like to watch him land and look over at you just like he did.

But then you forced yourself back to reality.

This was Jake Seresin, aka Hangman. Given that name because he hangs his team out to dry.

But he didn’t leave you.

In fact, he was the only one to show up.

And the first to stay.

You read the road signs as best as you could until you realised where he was taking you.

“You know there is a beach like ten minutes from my house.”

He nodded. “I know. But you’re there all the time. You’ve seen that patch a thousand times. This is different.”

“How? Isn’t all sand the same?”

He shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe. But they always say the beach can work a thousand miracles. Come on.”

It was a five minute walk to the bottom.

“Is it usually this empty?”

He looked around. “There’s usually a couple more people, but yeah. This is usually it. Not many people drive this far down. They think it’s not the best but to me…couldn’t be more perfect.”

“Huh.”

“What?” Jake asked, looking at you.

You continued looking out to the water. You shook your head. “No, nothing. Just…never thought you’d be the sentimental type.”

“Well…I’m not.”

You looked at him.

“To most people.”

It was at that moment you felt a small crackle. Either in your chest or your gut, something crackled. And you felt the blanket of hatred you had for Jake Seresin start to fade.

His call sign might be ‘Hangman’, but you had a strong feeling that when it came to those he cared about…he tried his best to stick around. And even if he couldn’t, he’d make a memory of them to last a lifetime.

For the rest of the day, you spent most of your time lying on the beach watching the waves or reading your book, which he had packed. And it was…one of the best days you’d had in a long time.

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?” Moving the book from his face, Jake looked at you from beneath his shades as you lay on your stomach beside him.

“This? Less than a week ago I’m pretty sure people would have made money on you and I killing each other. Why are you helping me?”

“Because you need it. And I’m pretty sure anyone else would believe you when you say that you don’t.”

“And you don’t believe me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know you.”

You scoffed. “What do you mean you know me?”

You watched as he smiled and tried to kill the butterflies in your stomach.

“Y/n.”

You were still getting used to the fact he was using your first name. Usually it was your last, or some sweet nickname like ‘Sweetheart’ that would grate through your entire body.

“You spend most of your time making sure everyone feels okay and is doing okay. The only time you actually let your feelings know is when you’re taking shit to me. You deserve a break. You deserve to take one before your body forces you to have one.”

Hearing his words as he spoke, you slowly sat up until your back was to the water and you were fully facing him.

“Plus, your brother asked me to look out for you. And I’d rather not suffer his wrath again.”

Okay, that had to be complete bull. Your brother’s wrath when it came to protecting you, that was true. But why ask Jake of all people given he knew your history and track record with him.

And what did he mean by again?

You barely had time to ask all of your questions before you watched him stand up, throwing his book closed to the ground. You mentally scolded yourself for letting your eyes wander all over him.

You weren’t blind to the fact Hangman looked, well, like him. A daring smile, enough charm to charm even the most sourest of people and the body to go with it. But before today, you had been immune. At least, you considered yourself immune since the blanket of hatred that you held for him seemed to block plenty out.

Worst of all, he caught you.

You knew he caught you because of the smirk on his face and the chuckle that escaped his broad chest.

“Shut up.” You groaned, forcing yourself to stand. “I’ve been in the hospital. My immune system is temporarily weakened.”

“It isn’t the first time I’ve caught you, Sweetheart.” Seresin drawled just as you looked at him both annoyed and confused. And maybe slightly offended that he thought you had, before today, purposefully checked him out.

But he just laughed. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

“But what about our stuff?”

“It’ll be safe. I know most of the people on this beach, they’ll make sure nothing happens to it.”

Taking your hand in his, he led you down the beach, under a small cove and through to the otherside where some rocks were covered in seaweed and sand.

And for a while, you and Jake explored the place. You’d never been this far down the beach so finding out it existed was a bonus. Finding seaweed to pop and watching the crabs crawl across some of the rocks was fun.

You’d never stop to take a break. Straight out of college, you’d begun teaching. It had been in your home town until your brother got accepted into Top Gun. And, with an internalised fear of losing him, you moved out to San Diego. You knew after a while he’d be stationed somewhere else, but you’d managed to find a home there. And when your brother was stationed not too far from his Top Gun base, the rest of your family moved closer.

Since then, it has been helping them get settled, tutoring their children after spending all day teaching. It was sleepless nights spent alone at home, living off the quickest food you could make because you simply didn’t have time to cook. It was running yourself so far into the ground that the one person who you never thought would even step foot into your home was the only one to show up and give you enough space to actually relax.

So watching crabs walk along the rocks was fun.

And hearing your name, and calling out his name above the waves, without hatred or malice behind it, was fun, too.

“Come and look at this.”

Carefully, you made your way over the rocks, trying your best not to slip and hit your head. And you did so, until the last rock before you joined him.

Letting out a small yell as you reached out to try and catch yourself, he threw out his hand and caught you.

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Can you stand?”

You lowered yourself to a lower rock, still holding onto his arms before letting go and allowing yourself to take his hand and help you up the rest of the way.

“What am I looking at?”

It was a starfish.

The rest of the day, you and Jake explored the shore, skipped rocks on the calming water, sunbathed and even took a swim in the water.

By the time the sun had set, you found yourself sitting with him on the hood of his car, a pizza box between you both, watching the planes fly from the airport.

A week ago, if anyone had told you that you would have done any of this, especially with Hangman, you would never have believed them.

“Thank you, for your help.” You blurted out as you watched another plane fly into the sky.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Yes, I do.” You wanted him to listen to you. “Given our track record for being nice to each other, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you didn’t turn up at the hospital to bring me home. But you did. And you made sure I didn’t fall into some kind of coma after it. And today you gave me the first day, I think, ever, where I’ve not done a thousand things for somebody else and enjoyed what I was doing. So, I do need to thank you for that.”

“Are you saying…you…like me?”

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, but you tried to force it away. “Okay.”

“No, no. I mean, this is a miracle.”

“You’re tolerable.” You corrected him.

Smiling, he took another slice of pizza. “You like me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You like me. I am now your friend. We are now friends.”

You shook your head, holding in a laugh. “Just shut up and eat your pizza.”

It was safe to say after that, that everyone was shocked at the dynamic between both you and Hangman.

They had all gotten so used to the insults and borderline flirty comments you’d both sling each other's way, it had become like white noise. So, when it was gone and replaced with laughter and smiling, it gave everyone a terrified feeling.

“I’m guessing they’re not here yet.”

Penny shook her head as she poured another pint. With a smile, she nodded over to the other end of the bar. “They’re over there.”

Twenty minutes later, it had become like a social study for everyone in the bar to watch you and Jake.

“Do you think they fucked? Got all that pent up energy out?”

Coyote shook his head. “No, he would have told me. How long have they been like this? Maybe they’ve been hypnotised into liking each other?”

Rooster shook his head. “The hypnotist left like three months ago. Maybe they’re…faking it. Do you think they heard us talking about them last week? About who would kill who first? Maybe they’re teaming up so nobody wins?”

Penny shook her head as she wiped down the bar. “Well, whatever it is, it’s a nice change. She looks a lot happier. They both do. Who knows, maybe next we’ll be holding a wedding here.”

“Not their wedding?” Rooster seemed shocked. “Penny, they were about three insults away from killing each other three weeks ago.”

“Love is blind, as they say.”

For the rest of the night, people watched you and Jake sat together. Seresin and Y/l/n. Hangman and Sweetheart.

And then they watched as you walked home.

Together.

It was safe to say everyone was shocked to their core. For the first time ever, there had been a night where both you and Jake had not only been in the bar at the same time but had also sat together for the whole night, and not once killed each other.

Verbally or otherwise.

“You know, you’re not as big of a dick as I thought you were Seresin. Tonight was a nice change.”

“I have been known to be kind once in a while.”

“Keep this up, you might be fit to see another day.”

“So might you.” Jake replied as he watched you climb the steps of your front porch. “I meant what I said, about taking a break. You deserve one, Y/n.”

You took in what he said with a small nod before adding. “You know, it’s still freaking me out, you even know my first name.”

“If it helps, the nurse had to tell me.” He said. “Guess I’ve called you by your last name so much, I forgot your first.”

“Is that why you keep saying it? So you don’t forget?”

He shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You know, it is okay if you forget it once in a while.”

Jake smiled a little at that. “How could I forget the name of the woman who once dumped three shots of tabasco sauce into my drink?”

“Hey, you can’t prove that was me.”

“Hey, the bottle was in your hand.”

You unlocked your door. “I still plead not guilty.”

“Whatever you say, Sweetheart. Sure you’re okay on your own?”

You nodded. “I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you have an early start in the morning?”

He nodded. “Even so. Call me.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night, Sweetheart.”

He waited for you to lock your doors before he got into his car and drove back home.

The following weeks continued the same way. If anybody who was anybody saw you and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin together, in the same room, talking. They would stop and watch.

Never in a million years did anyone expect you and Jake to talk, never mind actually become friends.

Each Friday, you met each other at the bar. You both have a drink. You’d both sit and talk. Maybe some of your old ways were still there with each other, but there was less “25 to life” about it and more “affection” in the words you both said.

However, it nearly gave people an aneurysm when they thought you were both actually dating.

Two people who were thirty seconds away from physically fighting each other every day had gone from, well, that, to…to…to dating?

It couldn’t be…could it?

And the rumours that had been spread by one of the bar regulars, after she’d spotted both of you grocery shopping together before spotting Jake’s car leave from the top of your road hours later, were only fueled when they heard about what happened at the school.

It had been months since you fainted and you had been getting better. You felt better, you felt like you had more energy. And with Jake’s help you started to feel like a person again. A person who wasn’t wholly consumed by their work constantly, whether they were ten miles from the building or not.

Except, one morning, you woke up and felt…off.

Something wasn’t right. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something didn’t feel right. Maybe your period was coming early. It has been doing that lately. Surprising you when you least expected or wanted it.

Just a few weeks ago, it had arrived early once again. And the pain you’d felt in the days before nearly floored you. And when you hadn’t showed up at the bar like you’d agreed to with Jake, he came looking for you. That night he’d taken a quick trip to the grocery store after you told him what happened. He looked after you. Made sure you were okay. The next day, he drove you back to the store and you stocked up on supplies and snacks.

It was also later that night when he surprised you by making dinner.

Opening up your fridge, you took one of the healthy smoothies that Jake had left you the last time he’d come round, before packing it into your bag and heading to work.

Your queasy feelings only got worse. And then…you felt it.

Sticking on a documentary for your class, you took your phone and slowly made your way towards the teachers bathroom, stopping off at the next class.

“Can you keep an eye on them for a couple of minutes?”

Your best friend nodded. “Course’ honey.” Before asking her TA to go next door.

“You okay?”

You tried your best to look okay, despite everything you were feeling inside.

“Yeah. Yeah. I will be.”

As the TA headed next door, you made your way towards the bathroom, then dialled his number.

“Hey,” Jake said as he answered. “Just about to call you. They’ve got a showing of The Wizard of Oz tonight at the theatre, if you wanted to go-”

“Jake.”

“Are you okay? What’s happened? Is everything okay? Is it your brother-”

“Every…” You swallowed thickly before carefully lowering yourself onto the floor with your back against the wall, and unlocking the door. “Everything’s okay, it’s just…”

Jake had a strong feeling he knew what was happening. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”

“School bathroom. Teacher’s.”

“Okay.” You could hear him leaving his office and getting into his car. “Is the door unlocked?”

You didn’t answer.

“Y/n.”

“I’m here.”

Jake breathed. “Y/n, Sweetheart. Is the door unlocked to the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“Does anyone else know you’re there?”

You explained what happened as best as you could.

“Just, please get here soon?”

“I will, Sweetheart. I promise. I’m almost there.”

You didn’t know how long had passed but it wasn’t long before you heard your name being called out by Jake.

Pulling the door open a little from the floor, Jake ran towards it and peeked inside. There you were, sat with your knees close to your chest, against the wall.

He stepped inside before crouching down.

“I-I’m sorry I called. I just-”

Checking you over, Jake cupped your face. “Hey, no. No. I’m glad you called me. You can always call me. How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy. It’s better now but still like the room is spinning. And I’m not harnessed in.”

“Okay. Do you think you can stand?”

You gave a small nod. “Maybe.”

Helping you up, Jake took your hands in his and you stood up.

“Come on, we’re getting you checked out at the ER.”

You would have fought him on it but considering the last time it happened they kept you in overnight, you went willingly.

Thankfully, you didn’t pass out even when the dizziness and the nausea felt like they were getting worse.

By the time the doctor saw you, she did all of the routine checks before turning and looking at Jake and back to you.

“Is there a possibility you could be pregnant? I’ve seen a lot of couples come in here with similar symptoms and-”

Oh shit.

“Oh, no. I-I’m not. And he’s not-”

“We’re- We’re not together.”

A few more awkward moments like that filled the next couple of hours until both yourself and Jake seemed to give up on correcting people.

By the time they discharged you, they told you your blood sugar levels had dropped and your hormones were beginning to change with your cycle. Along with the advice to try and reduce stress.

Driving you home that night, Jake made a detour. Towards the diner and then towards the beach along The Hard Deck.

It was quiet for a Tuesday evening, but yourself and Jake just sat and ate dinner whilst watching the water push in and pull out constantly across the sand until eventually, laying your head on his shoulder, he placed his arm around your own.

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

“Thank you for calling me. Are you feeling any better?”

You nodded, gratefully. “Just a little tired, that's all.”

“I’ll drop you off at home, soon, if you’d like.”

You nodded then looked at him. And before you could stop yourself, you asked him; “Would you stay with me? Tonight? If you can’t- or if you don’t want to-”

“I’ll stay.”

“A-are you…sure?”

Jake nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I’ll stay with you.”

You didn’t know what else to say other than thank you, so pressing a light kiss to his cheek, you said as much. “Thank you.”

You could have sworn you saw him blush as he smiled and looked down. “Anytime.”

It was odd really, laying beside the man you thought you’d be telling your kids about when you were older. About how much you hated him and how much he hated you, and why neither of you could sit next to each other at the Thanksgiving table every year.

Jake had decided to stay in your guest bedroom, but the minute you heard him lay down in his bed, you felt…awake. Not wide awake. You were still tired. But you weren’t settled. Something inside of you wanted to be closer to him.

So, after an hour of laying on your back, staring at your ceiling and listening to the distant shore line, with the odd rumble of a car’s engine running up and down the road every now and again, you got up.

Jake had left his door open. If you shouted for him, or needed him, he would be able to hear you. Usually, he’d be out like a light, waking up at the smallest of noises. But this time, he couldn’t sleep.

Instead, his mind was going over the fact you had called him when you were at work. And the fact that he enjoyed it when you were with him. That he was the one you chose to lean on. And the fact that he wished he was down the hall with you at that moment, then lay alone in the dark in your guest bedroom.

Then he heard you.

From the dim, moonlit hallway, he saw you.

“Hey, everything-”

“Can I stay with you?”

Already half way up, Jake paused for a second. Then nodded. “‘Course. Come ‘ere.”

Walking over, Jake pulled the covers back and you climbed under them before feeling his arm wrap around you. And your arms came around him, one over his shoulder and round his neck, the other by his side.

Instinctively, he pulled one of your legs across him and held it there whilst his other arm remained securely around your back, holding you to him.

“Is this okay?”

He felt you nod and he nervously swallowed.

“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”

In a quiet voice, your breath against his neck, you answered. “Better now.”

Pressing a kiss to your head, you nuzzled into each other.

“Good.”

Not too long after that, you both fell asleep.

And when you both woke up, neither of you wanted to move.

If this had somehow happened six months ago, you probably would have thrown each other to the other side of the room. But it wasn’t six months ago. And you’d come to know Jake as…Jake. Who took care of his friends, and made sure everyone was okay and was kind and caring and…a lot of other things you didn’t want to think about at six o’clock in the morning.

And the way he was looking at you at that moment made you think about other things that you didn’t want to think about.

“What are you thinking about?” Jake asked after a few moments of watching you study him.

“That you need to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you…like me.”

Jake smiled. “I do like you, Sweetheart.”

“Jake.”

Then, for a moment, everything felt…serious. His tired smile dropped a little from his lips as he looked at you.

“Do you trust me?”

You felt your heartbeat pick up in your chest and for a moment, you wondered if he could hear it.

“Yes.”

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you felt him cup your cheek. “Y/n…”

He seemed nervous.

“Can I kiss you?”

If you had let yourself think about it long enough, you never would have guessed Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who went after whatever, and usually whoever he wanted, would ask if he could kiss. You’d always assumed that he was so confident in life and with women that he’d know. That he’d see the small signals. Or even the loud ones. And just…kiss a girl.

But no.

He asked.

And something in your gut jumped.

So you answered; “Yes.”

Nervously, he licked his lips before he leaned in. And kissing him felt…weird. Because it felt…normal. Unlike anything else you’d felt in your life.

You managed to pull him closer, until he was leaning above you. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

From there, the softer, searching kisses slowly faded away and turned into something more. More wanting, more needing. Feeling his hands move down your body before he gripped your hips, and pulled you closer to him and carefully slid them back up until the fabric of your t-shirt began to bunch together.

Feeling him press into your thigh, you let out a small noise that was only swallowed by his kiss. Swiftly, he pulled you across him, your legs straddling his lap before he sat up. Once more, he pushed the hair from your face and took you in, in the rising daylight.

No words were spoken out loud, but everything was said.

Leaning down, you kissed him again before letting your own hands move down his chest and towards the hem of his t-shirt. Except, just as he pulled you closer by your waist, his hips rocking into you, you both jolted at the sound of his alarm.

“Sorry.” Jake quickly turned and switched it off. You were both going to be late for work.

“If we don’t get ready now, we’re gonna be late.”

Looking at him, you didn’t know fully what to say. It had just been the hottest make out session of your life, with a guy six months ago people would have bet money on you killing. And you’d both been cock-blocked by his alarm.

“I’ll meet you here, after work?”

That made you smile. “Okay.”

Then he did, too. “Okay.” Before throwing his phone to the side and pulling you down to kiss him. But as you pulled away, he groaned, trying to pull you back to continue but you walked a good three feet away from the bed.

“Can’t be late, Hangman. You’ve got pilots to teach.”

With a coy smile, he was standing in front of you within seconds before lifting you onto the dresser behind you. This time, it was you trying to pull him back when he stopped kissing you. But he just stood back and let out a small chuckle.

“We’ve both got students to teach, Sweetheart. We stay here any longer, they’re both gonna miss us.”

One final kiss to your lips, he stood back and practically ran away before you could grab hold of him.

Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed for the day and had poured you a coffee to-go as well as packed you another smoothie and grabbed your lunch for you before you’d come downstairs, dressed and began loading the last of the exam papers into your bags.

He dropped you back off at work, however, when you realised he was waiting in the parking lot for you to enter, you left your bags by the pillar and walked back. With his window already being down, you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his hand cup the back of your head.

“See you tonight?”

“See you tonight.”

The day for either of you couldn’t have felt longer. And by the time Jake came walking through your back door, dropping his bag onto one of the pantry hooks, he couldn’t have been more relieved to see you.

And for a moment, he just watched you as you sat on the sofa with crossed legs, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Softly, he approached you from behind before wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

You smiled.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

“You’re back.”

You felt him relax against you. “Finally.”

“There’s some food. I made you a plate in the oven.”

He pressed a kiss to your head before walking towards the kitchen. “I would have cooked.”

“I know, but I needed the distraction.”

Waltzing back inside holding onto the warm plate, he smirked as he popped a fork-full of veg into his mouth. You could already feel your cheeks heating and from the look on his face, he could see it clear as day.

“Distraction from what?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Nothing, huh?”

At some point, he put down his plate and rounded back to the sofa, standing behind you before pressing soft kisses into the side of your neck.

“Jake.”

The way you said his name went straight to his dick.

As he moved your hair, you leaned to grant him more access. A satisfied smirk came to his lips as he watched your legs move to straighten out.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Sweetheart.”

Eventually, you felt Jake move away but he appeared again, lowering himself in front of you. Taking the textbooks and notes from you and placing them on the coffee table behind him, he leaned forward and pulled you in to kiss him.

“Have you been thinking about me?”

Feeling his hand move up your thigh and towards your shorts, you leaned in closer. “Have you, Sweetheart?”

“Yes,” your voice came out breathy.

“Is this okay?”

You nodded.

“I need words, darlin’.”

“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”

As time passed, the small part of you that was still able to function started to ask questions. Like why you had hated him so much in the first place? And how you almost missed…him.

And by the time you woke up in the morning, Jake practically wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, you had come to a new conclusion.

You didn’t hate him anymore.

You hadn’t hated him for a long time.

All opinions you had of him, especially after a night of mindblowing sex, had been shot out of the water.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was no longer the man you thought he was. The man you had come to know and lo-

The man you had come to know was a man that showed up. And stayed. He was someone that took care of the people he cared about. He was someone that would fix things in your home without you asking. He was someone that cooked meals, even if it was almost one o’clock in the morning and you were craving a grilled cheese. He was someone that, even after sex, took care of you in a way nobody had ever even thought about doing before. He was someone that you could trust and respect, and did so.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was a man that had proved your theories wrong and he was a man that you realised you were falling for.

And in some ways, that scared you. And in some ways, it didn’t.

Because, for as much as he could be so sure of himself. So bold. So confident, it bordered on cocky. You were also sure of him. Sure that, if he was feeling the same things you felt, that he wouldn’t let you hurt yourself when you fell, but rather he’d catch you.

And it, surprisingly, didn’t take him very long.

By the time you woke up in the morning and headed downstairs, freshly dressed in a worn Top Gun hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts, you started making breakfast. However, as you stood at the stove, flipping the bacon, you felt a newly familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.

Dropping his chin to your shoulder, Jake pulled you close to his chest.

“Good morning.”

“Morning’.” He drawled. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”

“Bacon and eggs. There’s also toast in the toaster.”

With a smile, Jake pressed a kiss to your exposed collar which caused you to let out a small giggle before quickly turning the stove off.

“You’ve gotta be careful, Hangman. You’ll make me burn breakfast.”

He hummed a response. “I had a couple other meals in mind.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

With his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck where you suspected he’d just left another hickey, he slowly turned you around. “I can think of one.”

Finally facing him, he kissed you as you fumbled with the last temperature gauge and turned it off. Picking you up, he carried you away from the counter near the stove to the one complete opposite.

“You’re driving me insane dressed like this.” He mumbled against your kiss. “Wearing my shirt.”

“Your shirt?” You asked as his lips moved to your neck.

Looking at you for a moment, half drunk on your kiss, he nodded. “Didn’t you know, Sweetheart? This here is mine.” Pinching some of the fabric between his fingers he shook it as he told you so.

You laughed. “No it’s not.”

He nodded. “God's honest truth. Your brother stayed at mine one night after he’d gone out drinking. Lost his shirt, don’t ask me how. Stole one of my hoodies. Never got it back.”

“How do you know this is yours?”

With a smile, Jake showed you the small hole that you’d made a little bigger over the years from when you’d get nervous. “This right here. Loose thread got caught in a cabinet I was fixing in my room. Pulled at it too hard. And…”

Jake watched as your expression changed a little, hungry for more of his touches, as he pushed his hand slowly up the inside of your- his hoodie.

A slight smirk, he pulled at the side tag and showed you. And it baffled you how you’d never noticed before.

J.H.S

“See. But, I have to say, Sweetheart. It looks better on you than it ever did me.”

And as he was looking at you, he asked you something else. “Let me take you out on a date. A real one. You know, seeing you like this…I never want to see anyone else like this but you.”

“Jake…”

“I’m being serious. Sweetheart, I want you. And not just temporarily.” Then he looked away as he said the next part. “I’d get it…if you didn’t want that. God knows you and I don’t have the best history when it comes to even getting along but-”

“I want to date you.”

He looked up at you.

“I want to date you,” you repeated. “Believe me, half of the time I don’t get it myself. How we’ve gone from one extreme to the other, but I know…I know I want you around.”

“I want you around, too.”

“So, yes.”

Jake smiled. “Yes?”

You smiled back. “Yes. Take me out on a date, Jake Seresin.”

Leaning forwards, he kissed you. And before long, your hands started to feel for the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head.

It was safe to say, when you and Jake walked into The Hard Deck in the evening after your official first date, hand in hand before he pressed a kiss to your lips, a lot of people were shocked.

And lost a lot of money.

But Penny won it all.

She knew the minute Jake saw you, and your brother scolded him, that something would happen. After all, Hangman was known for going after what he wanted. She just never expected to have to be the one to force you to be in the same room and for that room to be a hospital.

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toothfa-1-ry · 4 months ago

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JUST FATHER ACTIVITIES

Imagine in an alternative universe, somehow you and your baby daddy Thanos escape the games (don't ask me how) and you guys pay off all of your debts and have financial stability

Basically father! Thanos headcannons!!

First of all, thanos is a girl dad. Idc i do not make the rules you CANNOT and WILL not change my mind otherwise

After the games, irrelevant of whether you were also in the games with him or not, he'd quit his drug addiction and go to a rehabilitation for the sake of your daughter

You couldn't change him, but atleast your daughter could

Thanos would go with you to the gynae every single time without fail, he'd brag about it (very loudly) though

"Look" thanos points at all the patients in the waiting room in the gynae clinic "how many women do you see with their husband's accompanying them?"

"Thanos shut the fuck up" you'd hiss at him, while hitting his arm. The women around you guys giving you the stink eye which he proudly gave back

"I'm just saying the truth- is it a sin to speak the truth?!?"

Will brag to the doctor and nurses too

"Say doctor miss" he leans back at his chair with his head held up high "how many husband's accompany their wives to the clinic?"

"Oh well that depends, not all the time-"

*insert thanos's loud proud laugh, his head thrown back while you grimace*

"I'm the fucking best aren't i"

*insert your slow head shaking* "Yes babe, you sure are"

He was always protective of you, but it grew even stronger after he found out you were pregnant

The type to protect you from a pigeon if he felt like it looked at you for a second too long

"Wtf are you looking at you cross eyed motherfucker"

*glares at the pigeon from a distance"

The type of person to hyper fixated on whatever small movement you do cause he's doesn't want you to get hurt

"Oh be careful be careful" *Holds your hand* "hold my hand and dont let go, use your other hand on the railing"

Says that he doesn't need to read or watch those "pregnancy classes" or "how to take care of a new born" classes cause he's already fully prepared

You later find out that he signed up for one of those seminars online and attends those lectures at night while your asleep

Bro probably has even stronger baby fever than you do

Buys things for the baby and you

"Thanos.. what's that in your hand"

"It's a costume, a ironman costume"

"For?"

"Our daughter 🙄 duh y/n"

"Babe, she still isn't even born"

"I got you a costume too" *takes out a black widow costume that seemed a little too racey* "you should try wearing it now just incase-"

*he got hit by you for trying to get you pregnant again while you were pregnant*

Let's say nam gyu wasn't the slimy bitch he was in the series

Best GODFATHER ever. GOATED godfather, S TIER godfather

I already mentioned this but I'm sure Thanos and nam gyu would come up with names for the baby

I'm talking wack ass names that they genuinely find cool

The list of names would include marvel character names (cause cmon, the child's dad is literally called thanos) or rapper names

"Add cardi b on the list too"

"You know that's not her real name right?" Nam gyu asked, pausing before quickly scribbling the name down

"WHAT?!? Since when??"

I'm sure nam gyu even accompanied the two of you to the clinic atleast once or twice

He was banned from coming though cause him and Thanos together made too much noise

Whenever you and thanos are in public, it doesn't matter if your in a cafe or restaurant or if your just out for a walk

If he meets anyone and i mean anyone

He'd tell them that he was gonna be a dad

"Hey do you know that I'm gonna be a dad?" *points at you* "and that's the mom- she's carrying my baby"

"Sir I'm the waiter"

On the softer note though

Kisses you on the lips first and then kisses your stomach second before you both go to sleep

If you groan or even if he senses a inch of your discomfort he'll automatically try to figure out a way to make you feel in ease

Tries his best not to annoy you

(It doesn't always work cause being annoying is his entire personality trait but it's the effort that counts!!)

Ties your shoelaces for you cause you can't bend over

Traces shapes over your stomach while you both lie next to eachother

Reminds you how pretty you are everyday

"If I'm the legend Thanos, then I guess you would be a myth, cause only a face like yours could make a man like me want to quit"

"Your so corny"

But you wouldn't have it any other way

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paarksunghoon · 7 months ago

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FIXED COMFORT | SUNGHOON

SUMMARY: typically, sunghoon’s the one who takes care of you when you’ve had one too many. but once in a blue moon, he lets his guard down and allows you to care for him the way he does for you.

or, the one where sunghoon’s drunk at a bar and misses his girlfriend a little too much.

NOTES: idk I just feel like someone should let him sleep for six months straight!!!

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.4K (4444 exactly—she’s a shortie).

WARNINGS: fluff on fluff on fluff.

***

“Hey, do you think you could come get Sunghoon from the bar? He’s been asking for you for the past hour.”

Jay’s phone call pulls you out from a deep slumber on a Saturday night that falls on a day with no plans other than pure relaxation. Sunghoon had been preoccupied with work and classes this past week and wanted to unwind by drinking at his favorite bar with his closest friends and all you wanted to do was sleep the weekend away.

Since the two of you started dating six months ago after being friends for a little over two years, you both agree on the notion that you’ve found a good balance between time spent together and apart respectively. Nothing fundamentally changed with the exception of kissing and touching one another in the way a couple would. He still respects your independence and you respect his time away from you as well.

Sunghoon learned quickly that you’re the type of person who values your alone time more than anything else. When he first started developing feelings for you, grappling with your absence wasn’t easy. He initially thought you weren’t interested in getting to know him the way he was with you because you weren’t afraid to decline invitations and telling people ‘no.’ Slowly, over the course of many months of pining and late night conversations, did Sunghoon learn that you’re typically your best self after a moment of isolation.

Your boyfriend is somewhere in between an introvert and extrovert. He tends to be shy when he meets people he isn’t familiar with while his loud, rambunctious attitude is typically reserved for those who know him best. He likes to keep to himself for the most part, giving some of his personality away when he feels his walls start to crumble naturally. You love that he has a good head on his shoulders and that he’s able to tell you about his feelings while maintaining an air of confidence. He doesn’t inherently need anybody; he likes your company and will do anything to keep it.

Moments like this are when your heart feels softer for Sunghoon than when the two of you were just friends.

“I know you wanted to spend the weekend alone but Hoon’s been saying your name all night,” Jay says. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re sure Jay can hear your brittle voice. “Are you guys at the bar near your place?”

“That’s the one. Thanks again and I’m really sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t sweat it. Cook me something next week if you still feel bad.”

“I can do that. Chili oil noodles with shrimp sound good?”

“It’s almost like you know me.” He laughs at your sarcasm.

“Drive safe.”

When Jay hangs up, you allow yourself a few minutes to adjust and wake up, stretching your body from the warm comfort of your blankets. You change out of Sunghoon’s shirt to put on pajama pants and another one of his stolen shirts, opting not to take a jacket since you figure you won’t be out for very long.

You thank your past self for filling up your gas tank before tonight after having put it off for a few days. Knowing Sunghoon, he would still scold you for allowing yourself to run nearly empty before filling it up even if he was inebriated. Somehow, knowing this about him brings a smile to your face.

Sunghoon’s the kind of guy who likes to have some control over certain things. He likes order and structure, often waking up at the same hour every weekday to build a routine his body can remember. He’s been like that since you first met him but you think it’s part of his charm. Even from two years ago, when you met him through Jake Sim, Sunghoon has maintained a level of confidence and control that he does now. On the heels of an impressive skating career before pivoting to focus on higher education, Sunghoon had his preferences and will stick by them.

His discipline is the first thing you noticed when you met him for the first time. Jay, someone you were already familiar with, agreed to cook dinner with your friend group under the condition that everyone helped him shop and chip in for the meal. Sunghoon held Jake back from buying unnecessary things like boxed chocolate milk and candy because Jay had desserts back at his place. He held a checklist of items whereas the rest of your friends ran up and down the aisles without thinking much about what needed to be purchased.

Sunghoon’s near-meticulous behavior is juxtaposed to your chaotic and rambunctious nature. You often follow your gut instead of setting a solid plan because you’re not concerned with meeting deadlines, sans education. Whereas you tend to lean towards a go-with-the-flow attitude, Sunghoon is the opposite. But that’s something he loves about you.

At a surface level distinction, it didn’t seem like the two of you would get along as well as you did. It surprised Jake when Sunghoon asked for your number so he could text you about seeing a comedy film with him as no one else in the group wanted to see it. Including you at an impromptu study session with him (Sunghoon was organized and neat while your pens were spread all over and your study methods, haphazard) felt like watching two people clash.

Rather, you and Sunghoon complement one another.

The idea of letting himself go with someone who wasn’t part of his friend collective was unheard of. Getting to know a girl who didn’t share similar lifestyles didn’t appeal to him before meeting you, and you’re inarguably the most chaotic person Sunghoon knows. But he finds that there’s order within your chaos—you know who you are and what you want, and you will not compromise yourself just to please other people.

It’s what Sunghoon loves the most about you. There’s a boundary you never let anyone cross under the assumption that your own safety net feels compromised. He’s watched you lose friends for this same reason and has always admired the way you carry yourself like you know you deserve better than people who disrespect you. He’s witnessed the grace you maintain when people who call you a friend voice words of kindness but speak ill about you behind your back. If anything, Sunghoon feels pity for anyone who crosses you to the point of anger. To be envious of another’s confidence is one thing. To make that known is another.

Sunghoon learns that you let your inhibitions go because holding control over yourself feels like a burden. It feels like setting a standard you will never be able to meet. He never thought of order in that way before getting to know you. Your approach to life sparked a new wave of emotions within him to the point where he was open and willing to let you farther into his life.

His days were ruled by guidelines he had to maintain and proper etiquette that followed him even off the rink. The poise he carried from his career on the ice bled into his personal life too. Although, he doesn’t mind that it does. Sunghoon values any form of structure because it makes him feel like he has a purpose and that there’s something to be accomplished at the end of the day.

Most times, Sunghoon’s feels like people judge him for his regimen and can’t fathom why he appreciates control so much. They tell him to let loose and enjoy his time away from his career. People always think he simply doesn’t know how to have fun because he’s set in his ways and won’t let other people coax him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. But not you. Sunghoon has never felt like you‘ve judged how he chooses to live his life.

Before he knew it, a year had passed and he started to call you one of his best friends. The friendship was gradual. Sunghoon didn’t have many close female friends in the way he does with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. You’re the first person since ending his career who hasn’t tried to pry into the why. In fact, Sunghoon enjoys that you didn’t bring it up.

(You did, in the form of cooing over his younger self skating in competitions for the first time or roasting all of the outfits he had to wear. But somehow, all of your jabs made him feel happier than when people complimented his performance.)

Eventually, being around you felt too right. He loved it when you took naps on his bed and felt comfortable raiding your kitchen pantry without permission. Sunghoon could leave you in his apartment without him being in it and feel at ease. In fact, he started to look forward to coming home to you. All it took was seeing you wear his hoodie because you got too cold and forgot your jacket, to make him drop his bag by the front door and ask you to be his girlfriend. He hasn’t regretted anything with you since.

The weather is cold outside since it’s approaching the middle of autumn. You let your car warm up and blast the heat all the way up while adjusting your defrosting settings before heading to the bar to pick up Sunghoon. You sift through your playlists and settle on soft indie melodies before you drive away from the curb.

You’ve never seen Sunghoon get drunk to the point of needing extra help. Usually, you’re the one who goes a little too hard whenever Heeseung brings out the alcohol or if Jake offers an edible or two. Sunghoon likes to sit back and stay sober (or sober up by the end of the night) when he notices you having too much fun. He doesn’t mind, though. Sunghoon likes taking care of you because sometimes it gives him purpose. You’ve never understood that sentiment but to each their own.

The only times you’ve seen him completely wasted are usually when you’re equally as gone, like on your first road trip as a couple. The five of you rented a lakehouse a few hours from Seoul and spent an entire weekend basking under the hot sun and chose to forget about university stress before finals would inevitably kick everyone’s ass. All five of you were cross-faded (but not without Jay and Sunghoon both prepping water bottles and snacks for when the munchies would hit prior to taking anything). You watched Sunghoon relax to the point where he was much quieter than he normally was and when you asked if he was doing alright, he looked you in the eye and told you he loved you for the first time.

I always have, I think, he said as he brought your hand to his chest. You might not believe me because neither of us are sober but I swear I’ll tell you in the morning.

Sunghoon gets affectionate when he’s drunk or high, often to the point of asking for reassurance. The rational side of his brain is temporarily disfigured. You don’t mind being there to tell him that he’s the love of your life and you’d never go anywhere when he gets like this. Although, you’re usually just as gone and gush all of your hidden emotionally-charged feelings, which pair well with Sunghoon’s need for validation sometimes.

Your friends love your relationship. They don’t think it’s too much or too little, going so far as to take photos of the two of you when you aren’t looking. Some are funny like the pictures of you sleeping on his chest with drool pooling out of your mouth. Others are romantic and whimsical, like the pictures of Sunghoon looking at you like you’re the sunshine to his moonlight. They can’t get enough of you two. Your friends love knowing people they care about are deeply in love with one another and your relationship is somewhat of a reminder that true romance does exist.

Thinking about this makes your heart swell as you park your car and tuck your keys inside your purse. The bouncer checks your ID and lets you inside the bar, and you already spot Jay off to the side.

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he gives you a loose hug. “And sorry for waking you up.”

You wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ve probably woken you up for worse.”

“Yeah, like the time you and Jake wanted ramen at 3am and wouldn’t stop calling me because both of you got a little too high.”

“Can you blame us?! You were like, two blocks away.”

“Yeah, but did you need to eat with me?”

“Duh. You’re like, the best person to eat a late night dinner with.”

The two of you laugh as he leads you to the group. You see Sunghoon slumped over the table with his head in his arms and the rest of your friend group tries really hard not to seem too excited when they see you standing next to Jay.

“Fucking finally.” Heeseung stands and gives you a quick side hug before Jake does the same. “Love you guys and all but he started to become unbearable when he kept showing us photos of you.”

Jake snorts. “Poor guy was almost about to cry.” That makes your heart soft.

“He looks so cute,” you coo, tilting your head to savor this moment. It’s abnormal for you to be the sober one but you’re starting to understand why Sunghoon doesn’t mind taking care of you when you’re like this.

Jay comes to stand next to you. “He’s not cute when he drank half his weight in alcohol and wouldn’t shut up about how pretty your hair is.”

“What, do you don’t think my hair’s pretty?” The messy, unbrushed hair is enough to make the guys laugh.

“Nah seriously, thanks for coming,” says Jake. “We felt bad calling you but he refuses to get out of his seat.”

“It’s fine.” You wave him off and step closer to your boyfriend, who still hasn’t moved from his position.

“Do your thing and we’ll be here if you need help bringing him to the car.” Heeseung smiles gratefully at you.

Even the back of Sunghoon’s head is unfairly gorgeous. His hair always looks nice, although you credit that to his younger sister introducing him to a world of hair care products during his skating years. It feels soft to the touch as you stroke the back of his head until Sunghoon slowly comes to. You feel his body start to stir.

“Baby,” you say quietly, bending down until you’re next to him. “Wake up for me.”

“Hm?” Sunghoon mumbles from his arms. He feels the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair and pulls himself from the table, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth before realizing you’re standing next to him. “Y/N?”

“I’m right here.”

He pulls his head up until he’s sitting upright in the booth, squinting up at you to adjust to the bar lights that disappeared when he closed his eyes. Your boyfriend looks so innocent like this. He looks at you with a wide, round gaze as if you’d appeared out of thin air and he’s trying his hardest to figure out how you’re standing in front of him.

“Is it really you?” Sunghoon asks in a quiet voice. His tone makes your heart flutter and you reach your arms out until you’re cupping his jaw and rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks. Sunghoon melts into your touch and you feel his body start to relax. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bug. Did you have fun tonight?”

He nods in your hands, “Mhm. Just tired now.”

“Jay said you were asking for me.”

“I always ask for you.” Your cheeks heat up and you try to ignore the snickers from behind you.

“Why don’t we go back to my place, yeah? You can sleep in my bed instead of this bar.”

“Can we? I love the guys but I just missed you.”

“Simp,” Heeseung whispers before coughing into his fist.

Sunghoon stands from the booth once you’ve taken a step back to give him the space to move. He’s surprisingly able to stand on his own and clutches onto his jacket as he makes his way to the door.

“Sorry guys,” he mutters to the guys.

“Yah, it’s fine,” Jay says as he waves Sunghoon off.

“Get home safe,” Heeseung says as he opens the door for the two of you. Sunghoon waves behind him until you guide him to the car.

“Can you put your jacket on for me?” You catch it in your hands after he nearly let them fall from his grasp.

“Shit, sorry.” You watch Sunghoon put on one arm and then the other. He looks so childlike in this moment as he concentrates his hardest to put the jacket on without stumbling.

It reminds you that he doesn’t show you this side of him often. Sunghoon, ever the poised individual who likes to know what’s ahead of him, has let his inhibitions down. Seeing his figure slowly push his body through the warm fabric has you biting back a smile.

“Need help?”

Sunghoon looks down at his hands that are trying to zip his jacket up to no avail. He feels like his hands are too big and the zipper is too small. “Please.”

Your steady fingers cover Sunghoon’s and take over the tedious task. The metal is warm from his fingertips. You can feel him looking down at you and you temporarily fumble with the zipper, which makes him laugh.

“Silly,” he mutters. “Ah, fuck. I don’t know if I can open the door.”

You roll your eyes and open it for him. “You’re funny.”

He slides into the seat as gracefully as he can without hitting his head on the roof. Sunghoon struggles, but manages to buckle himself in and grins up at you when he hears the click of the buckle. When you look down on him, the lamp post from above casts a soft glow on his face. He looks so youthful at this moment. Sunghoon has let go of his thoughts and couldn’t think about anything but the present moment even if he tried.

He waits for you and mumbles about how cold it is when you turn the engine on. The warm air starts to uplift his spirits and he looks at you with us head pressed to the headrest.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

“What?” you ask. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Usually I’m the one taking care of you.”

“You don’t always have to be brave, you know.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He reaches out to envelope your hand in his and squeezes it until he’s holding it loosely in the quiet of the evening.

“I love you.”

Your heart blooms. “I love you right back.” He seems satisfied with your response and lets go of your hand so that you can drive back to your apartment.

When you park on the curb, Sunghoon’s sober enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and wait for you to turn the engine off before opening his door carefully. He steps outside and leans back on the car door until you walk around the hood of the vehicle and grabs your hands to pull you into him.

You feel his lips on your before you register what’s happening. He tastes faintly of pineapple soju and beer, and his mouth is warm. Despite his inebriated state, Sunghoon’s able to hold you between his hands as he moves to place them on your hips to balance your body after you’ve stumbled into him.

The kiss itself is slow. In fact, it feels as though Sunghoon has slowed time around so that the two of you could enjoy the late night kiss uninterrupted. You can barely hear anything besides the ringing in your ears after being caught by surprise due to your boyfriend’s abrupt movements. Your mouths move in slow tandem and Sunghoon nearly pushes his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.

“My baby,” he whispers against your lips before giving you another quick peck.

“You are so cute.” You blurt out this confession like you’re still pining after him. “Let’s go inside, yeah?”

The apartment is warm compared to the environment outside and Sunghoon slips off his shoes in favor of wearing his designated slippers. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time he does so, letting you pull him into the hallway until the two of you reach your bedroom. The hardwood floors feel better than the uneven pavement from outside.

He loves it here. It’s a sanctuary away from his apartment with the friends he will probably invite to his wedding. But something about your green comforter and hand-painted artwork adorning your walls makes Sunghoon feel like he would live by your side for the rest of his life. The scent of your room–warm peaches and vanilla–tugs at his heart strings. This is where he belongs.

Likewise, you love seeing Sunghoon behave like this. It’s not commonplace for him to let people take care of him in the way you are now. He’s used to people looking out for his career and best interest but he struggles with allowing others to handle him with such care. After a decade of enduring harsh criticism and physical endurance, Sunghoon struggles to relax and allow others to take the reins. It’s partially why he loves taking care of you. Being able to provide that kind of love and support makes him feel wanted and needed, even if you tell him he’s more than enough a thousand times over.

You leave him in your room to change his clothes taken from his designated drawer while you prepare skincare and the works. You hear him shuffle outside and fall onto the bed once, prompting you to hold your laughter in as you wash your hands and pull out hair clips for him to use.

“I can’t lie,” Sunghoon says as you emerge from the bathroom to see him in a big t-shirt and pajama bottoms, “I’m really looking forward to you doing my skincare.”

You snicker and pull your desk chair into the bathroom. “Now you know exactly how I feel every time I beg you to do mine when I’m drunk. Sit and close your eyes, please.”

He follows your instructions and leans his back against the furniture. Sunghoon doesn’t fuss when you pin his hair back until it’s secure and allows you to make him feel pampered in a way he typically wouldn’t.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

Sunghoon hums. “Yeah, I did. The guys picked me up from my place and we had lunch at that seafood spot we’ve been meaning to try.”

“Was it any good?”

“So good.” He licks his lips. “God, I’m still thinking about that shellfish soup. We ordered enough food to feed a village but it was so worth it. I wanna go with you.”

“We can go wherever you want.” He smiles at your soft tone.

“We also went to the beach and met some guys at the skate park by the highway. They were pretty nice and let us use their boards for a little. Heeseung got along with them the best, I think.”

“Heeseung makes friends with everybody.”

“He says he’s not social but that’s a lie.” Sunghoon twitches his nose when he feels a damp washcloth on his face. “We went to the bar afterwards and split it by round. I got the first and honestly, I don’t remember much after that.”

“How are you feeling now, though?” you ask as you finish patting his skin dry. “Do you still feel dizzy?” Sunghoon opens his eyes and watches you apply a serum before dabbing it all over his face.

“Not as much as before. I think I’m just tired.”

“And clingy, apparently.”

Sunghoon smacks the back of your thighs. “Shut up. You love it.” You silence him by kissing his nose.

While he brushes his teeth, you situate yourself underneath your plush covers and allow the weight of the blanket to fall on top of you. The sweet promise of a good night’s rest feels imminent, especially when you see your boyfriend emerge from the bathroom. He turns off the light and walks towards the empty side of the bed before he’s slipping himself beside you.

Sunghoon’s an equal opportunist when it comes to sleeping positions. He loves it the most when your head is on his chest and when your arms are tangled in one another because he likes knowing that the two of you yearn for each other equally. But when he gets like this, Sunghoon takes initiative to maneuver himself until half of his chest and head are on top of you. He situates his arm around your waist and pulls himself closer to your body until a deep, satisfied sigh comes from the back of his throat.

He hums in appreciation when your fingers begin to massage his scalp. Sunghoon’s hair is soft and silky and on most days, you’re the only person who gets to touch it. The slowness of your movements paired with the soft kiss you place on his temple makes his eyelids feel heavy.

“Sorry you had to come pick me up,” Sunghoon mumbles against you. “I know we agreed to give each other some space this weekend.”

“You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.” He feels you kiss the crown of his head. “Plus, we both know you’d do the same for me.”

Sunghoon nods. “I would. You’re my girlfriend. Duh.” His sleepy nonsense makes you laugh.

“You can go back to hanging out with the guys tomorrow if you want.” He shakes his head.

“I want to get breakfast with you.” Sunghoon finds your free hand and presses a sleepy kiss to the back of it.

“Whatever you want. We can get breakfast.”

“If we wake up early enough.”

You laugh again. “Yes, if we wake up early enough.”

Sunghoon mumbles a few incoherent words that you can’t quite make out because of your own tiredness. When your own eyes start to droop, Sunghoon feels your fingers start to falter and looks up at you to see you’ve fallen fast asleep.

He kisses the underside of your chin and falls asleep too.

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

#enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #kpop x reader #enha x reader #enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon #my writing*

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slutofpsh · 10 months ago

Text

strip for me.

part two

pairings: hyungline x reader (jay & jake)

synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 8k

warnings: smut, minor dni, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.

note: okay, i’ve been typing this while my eyelids are dropping. i’m so sleepy. anyway, i hope you will enjoy this. part one here, (strip for me).

the day after their little playtime, you’re so scared to go to school. hesitating and timidly walking down the street once you got off from the bus that stops right in front of your school. no matter how hard you try, you just can’t help but to worry that they had spread explicit photos of you.

actually, if it weren’t for geometry’s long quiz you would skip school today. the thought of the boys leaking those pictures haunted you the whole night, you can’t even get some sleep. you bet you looked like a zombie right now.

when you stepped inside the classroom, some of your classmates are bickering and joking around as usual. you expected some dramatic scenes where one calls you out and they all laugh at you for being such a loser.

but none of that happened.

some turns their head at your direction, but they didn’t reacted like how you imagined them to do. there’s no laughing at you or calling you names like whore or slut. but instead they gradually went back on the things they’re doing.

does that mean they didn’t see any of your photos?

you’re still in the middle of spacing out when an arm suddenly rests over your shoulder, followed by a sexy chuckle. it was very familiar and you have an idea who it is.

“hi sweetheart.” jake’s voice ringed at your left ear. his body pressed over your side as he leaned closer adding his weight on you.

when you craned your neck to glance at him, you met his playful eyes. his thick and long eyelashes are very evident from this distance, making him look even more attractive in your eyes.

your cheeks instantly blushed because your noses almost touched each other. envious eyes bore onto you, feeling their heated gaze remaining. they're probably wondering why him— the popular jake sim, is currently being touchy with you— a nobody.

“you look pale. something wrong?” his voice sounded so soft, eyes glistening with a bit of concern if you look closely.

his slightly long hair looked so sexy, its even feel illegal to look like that. you’re quick to dismiss that thought, actually think that its wrong to even have an idea of being attracted towards him. he’s not even a good person. he’s like a devil trapped inside an angel’s body.

jake took a step so he can stand in front of you to take a better look. he leans down so he can catch a glimpse of your eyes making you feel even more timid. his puppy-like eyes stares right into you, as if searching for something.

if only you don’t know his true colors, you might think he’s a very innocent boy. but you knew better. jake sim is far from being innocent. on your opinion, out of all the four he’s the pervert one. he has the most corrupt mind. or at least he’s the one who shows that side more.

he’s usually the one who will pull you any time or anywhere whenever he feels like he wants someone to suck his throbbing dick. he doesn’t even care if your class will start in ten minutes or if you’re in the middle of reviewing for something. there was never a time that he’s not in the mood for sex. he’s always up for it. prepared and horny at all times.

“jake...” and you put your hand over his chest to push him away from you, setting a clear boundary between the two of you.

he’s crossing your personal space and its making you uncomfortable.

his actions makes you a bit suspicious of him. they rarely make interaction with you in public unless they’re picking on you or trying to embarrass the hell out of you.

you should not fall for those pretty lips and puppy eyes. jake sim always means trouble.

“hmm? what, baby?” he asks in a low tone, almost in a growling manner. he trapped his lower lip in between his teeth as he gave you this seducing stare. a hint of mischievousness shines through his eyes.

“move away a bit. y-you’re too close.” your eyes unconsciously darted around the classroom and you noticed how some are still watching you two.

jake seems unbothered by it. of course, its not him who will get harassed by their admirers. it would be you.

he chuckles then snaked his arm over your waist, tugging you even closer. he licked his lips, eyes turning dark out of lust over you.

“we both know we’ve been closer than this.” he spat before leaning again, dismissing your attempt of pushing him and setting a line.

“i can still remember how you look like yesterday. full of our cums...” he groaned near your ear that eventually turned red out of embarrasment.

you just wish none from your class heard what he just said. probably none, right? besides, he just whispered it so close to you. he’s so near to the point that you can feel his hot breath fanning your skin, sending shivers through your spine.

you pursed your lips, preventing to make any inappropriate noise to slip off from them. his hold over your waist tightens, like he just couldn’t get enough of you.

“gosh, sweetheart. you’re so hot looking like that.” he pulls away and the first thing you saw is his evil grin. he’s enjoying it. every damn thing, he’s loving it.

his dirty words made you feel sick in the stomach. you tried to move away, but he managed to grab you by your wrist, yanking you back. almost making you hit his chest.

“don’t worry. your pretty pictures are safe.” he says then winked at you. its like he read what’s in your mind moments ago.

your eyes brightens at what you heard, slowly lowering your guard. jake almost laugh at how adorable your eyes shines with relief. but he must admit, he loves it better whenever its full of tears whenever he’s fucking you senseless.

“r-right? you didn’t spread it or anything?” your soft voice almost made him go feral. jake stops himself from getting too excited. he smirks and slid his hand inside his pocket.

“are you crazy? why would i do that? that’s for our eyes only.” he stated, assuring you.

it somehow sent you instant relief. it was horrible to have that kind of photos of you taken without your permission, but its better to be sure that they’re not going to share it to the whole school.

a heaved sigh escapes your pretty lips that caught his attention. his gaze drops over it and eyes grew darkly.

“but we did sent it to beomgyu.” he whispers like a reminder.

your heart sank at what you heard.

“w-what...”

he scoffs, “you heard that right.” he tilts his head while still watching your face grow pale.

“now, he won’t ever try to flirt with you.” and with that he turns his heel and starts heading to his chair.

you’re left standing there alone. feeling a lump inside your throat and chest aching. you can’t explain what exactly that emotion is. but its not good. you feel humiliated and your only wish is to not bump into beomgyu ever again.

“what are you doing?” you snapped out of it when you heard a low voice from behind.

jay, sunghoon and heeseung walks inside the room. their eyes are darted right at you and noticed how you’re just standing there. the two tall boys behind jay are both silently watching you with cold blank eyes.

you’re quick to avoid their gaze and shook your head to dismiss those thoughts before giving jay a look.

“n-nothing.” you shortly replied and started walking to your seat.

the three boys watch you carefully. the displease look on your face evident and made them wonder what just happened to you. jay glances at them and shrugged his shoulders before going to his chair, throwing one last look to your way.

the class then started after your homeroom teacher arrives. it was normal and you tried hard to pay attention to the discussion. you can’t let these things affect your studies as well. if you want to get away from them, you should aim to a bigger university. far from those four boys.

library period is next after your three first subjects. its basically free time for your class, but you have to spend the time inside the library. you love reading so you don’t really mind. some of them take this opportunity to take naps.

you lost the four boys on your way here, making sure they won’t get a grip of you during the whole hour. the library is huge which is good as there’s a big chance of getting away from them. also, you’re sure they won’t make a scene here. specially with a lot of other students around.

you made it at the far left corner of the library and quickly find a vacant table to read the book you chose. its pretty much isolated as the other students decided to occupy the tables near the entrance.

the book you have is pretty good. cliche plots, but you’re entertaining enough to keep you occupied. you’re currently hooked to it when you heard the chair in front of you being dragged by someone.

your head lifts up to check who it was and regret instantly hit you.

it was choi beomgyu.

his eyes darts at your direction. he looked worried. after being reminded that the boys sent him that photo of you, you quickly tried to gather your things to leave. the last thing you'd want is to get confronted about those horrible pictures.

“wait, y/n!” he calls and went after you.

he managed to catch up and hold your wrist, preventing you to take further steps.

you kept your head low to avoid any eye contact. he’s staring at you and his hold, slowly becoming loose once he realized you’re not planning to run away from him.

he lets out a sigh. “i just want to say sorry.”

you raised your head with a confused look on your face. he blinks and he lifts his hand to scratch the back of his neck. his cheeks flushes, ears turning slightly red.

‘is he embarrased or nervous?’ you thought to yourself.

“i didn’t know about what you have with...” he stalls his words, doesn’t really know which one to address.

you gulped, feeling shy as well. you have no idea what exact thoughts he’s having right now.

“i’m sorry. did i get you in trouble?” his voice sounded nothing but concern.

“p-please, can you delete those pictures?” even if you feel so shy to bring it up, you want to make sure that your pictures won’t be seen by anyone else.

his eyes widen before he glanced away, cheeks burning. well one thing is confirmed. he did saw the pics.

“you don’t have to worry about it.” he gulped, still not looking at you. “sunghoon went to see me last night and made sure i deleted all of them.”

and when he turns his head, you saw that he have a small bruse by the side of his cheek. the ones you can’t see properly from where you’re standing.

sunghoon? what did he do?

you knew he have the worst temper from all of them and he got caught into fights multiple times, but you just can’t believe he will hurt beomgyu for that. its their fault that he got those pics on the first place.

“anyway, that’s it. i really felt bad that i got you into troubles with your...” he cleared his throat and licked his lips. “..boyfriends.”

your brows narrowed. “they’re not my boyfriends.”

he whips his head at your direction with widen eyes. “but why—”

you shake your head, dismissing the topic. “its complicated.”

you let out a strained sigh, once again realizing how bad this situation you got yourself into. beomgyu probably feels bad for you too. being a slave for those four evil guys. you cannot say anything at all. you can’t even complain.

“i have to go. i'm relieved that you don’t have those pics—” your heads turned when you heard a thud sound from the nearest aisle.

feeling a little bothered, you trudges towards to check if somebody was there.

no one.

your eyes dropped to the floor and saw a couple of books fell down from the aisle. probably that’s the sound you heard. maybe some students didn’t properly returned the books.

“thank you for deleting them. good bye.” you gave beomgyu a small smile and a bow before leaving him there.

you don’t want to risk it again. if one of them sees you around him, they might take it the wrong way and punish you. who knows what they will do next? they can be very ruthless and cruel. shivers runs through your spine just by imagining or thinking about what will they do.

when the bell rang signifying that the next period is about to start, you walked inside the class. oddly, the four boys are sat on their chairs.

your brows furrowed slightly, confused. they rarely come early in class. realizing that you’re overthinking things, you went straight to your chair and soon after your teacher enters to start the lesson.

weird. that’s all you can say. the class are almost over and yet none of them came to approach to bother you. nobody even randomly asks for you to meet them somewhere.

they ignored you the whole lunch break too. leaving you alone and peacefully eating your food. that’s a normal thing for other people, but for someone who often being dragged for their little playtime, you find it a little weird.

they’ve been silent after that library period and honestly its making you a bit anxious. they’re so calm and its a bad thing for you. when its too calm, a big storm is about to unfold.

dismissal came, the loud bell ringing all through the hallways. your eyes glanced at them and they’re fixing their things, jake’s talking to jay. sunghoon’s on his phone while heeseung is silently putting his textbook inside his locker.

you have no idea what you’re expecting, but having them completely ignoring you pinches something in you. this is actually a good thing. they’re not bothering you and you can go home peacefully. but a part of you somehow wonders, feels slightly heavy.

when you finished doing your thing, you roamed your eyes around the classrom and they’re not there. you didn’t even notice them leaving the room. jake didn’t purposely bumped into you, reminding you to meet them by the parking lot or somewhere.

in order to make it on the bus stop, you have to walk pass by the wide parking lot of the school. and as you make your way out along with the other students, your eyes caught a familiar tall figure.

it was sunghoon and beside him was a girl. she’s all smile while trying so hard to keep up with the pace of him walking. with those long legs, it sure is hard to catch up on him. sunghoon’s not that friendly, but it didn’t stop him from getting admirers.

normally, he gets rid of them. but you saw how he actually entertain and crack a conversation with her. it was again odd.

not too far from where his car is, you saw jake. he's leaning over his car while talking— more like flirting with this girl. you know her. she’s from the class next to yours. she’s part of the cheerleading squad, a very beautiful girl. he’s always nice to girls, a playboy. that’s how he's usually described so it wasn’t news to see him like this around her.

jay arrived not long after and he greets the girl jake’s talking to before putting his things inside his own car. he seems to be interested to their topic as instantly joins in their conversation.

noticing that heeseung’s nowhere near them, you tried to search for him. and you’re taken aback seeing him leaning over his car and looking straight at you like he’s been watching you ever since you stopped to watch them.

you gulped and stared back for a while before glancing away to leave. a bitter feeling slowly occupies your chest and you try so hard to get rid of it. its wrong to feel that way. you should feel relieved that finally they’re taking interest towards some other girls.

since you have no friends, you’re often alone around the campus. somehow, even if you feel like they’re just around you whenever they wanted to play, they make you feel like you’re not alone. they make you feel like existing.

and watching them slowly lose interest over you are both nice and bothering for you. being used to their presence from time to time made it seems like you’re losing more than gaining something.

the next day, you tried hard to act normal. despite the heavy feeling on your chest and eyes puffy than usual.

the class are loud the moment you stepped in and you scanned the room automatically. they’re not yet here. its still early so its not a surprise anymore.

“yo, jake!” your feet stopped at what you heard.

just when you’re about to look over your shoulder, someone walked pass by you. his familiar manly scent invading your nose that informs you that it was indeed jake sim who arrived.

your heart cracked at how he acted. he smiles at that one friend who greets him, dabbed him and started chatting.

‘maybe he didn’t see me?’ your thought to yourself.

but that’s clearly impossible. jake knew the whole built of your body. he can tell its you even from a good distance, what more if he walks pass by you? he is ignoring you.

you shoved that bitter feeling and just head on your chair. a part of you want to go and ask them what’s up or why they’re suddenly like this, but another part refrain you from doing so. you knew you shouldn’t.

the next few days, its still the same. all of them acts like you didn’t even exist in their world. it should be a good thing and being bothered by it should be the least you occupy your mind, but you can’t help it.

maybe their presense really planted something deep inside your mind. causing you to feel a bit sadder than usual now that they’re ignoring you. it sounds hilarious, but it seems like you grew attached to them.

wednesday, it was a normal school day. you went to school feeling a little bit more dead on the inside. is it just you or its really boring these days? like something’s missing.

you arrived inside your classroom and didn’t bother to look around. straight up, you headed over to your chair then slump yourself to the table. eventually the classroom got filled with students. you tried so hard to avoid searching the other boys.

“since the fieldtrip will be on sunday, i need all your signed consent letter by your parents. if you don’t have it, i can’t let you come.” your homeroom teacher announced.

one by one, your classmates stands up to place the paper over the teacher’s table. you rummaged inside your bag, going through your things to look for the notebook where you put it. after finally finding it you stood up and walks towards your teacher.

“thank you.” your teacher smiles warmly and eyes shifted on the figure behind you.

even before you can turn around to check, your back collided with a hard chest then a low husky voice follows.

“here’s mine.” sunghoon then leans towards the table, pressing his chest on your back even more. his scent invades your nose and it was making you feel things.

you gulped, getting rid of the lump on your throat. he seems totally unbothered by the contact, unlike you. thankfully, he did moved away after handing the paper to your teacher.

when he finally walks back to his place, that’s when you got the chance to move those feet. feeling your knees slightly wobble out of nervousness from that fine man.

even without checking their direction, you can tell that their piercing and predatory stare they’re giving you. its making you more on edge. no matter how many times they do that it never changes the way it affects you.

it slightly made you confused because they’ve been ignoring you. none of them had spoken to you for days and now here’s that feeling again. oddly, the somersault in your stomach didn’t bothered you.

it was almost lunch break when you felt a soft tap over your shoulder while peacefully reading. you craned your neck and looked at the person from behind.

“yeah?” you asked, finding it odd that she’s interacting with you. the displeased look on her face gave away the thought that she's just being forced to do this.

“here.” she says and placed a pile of paper at your table, which you followed with your gaze.

“what’s this?”

she sighs and rolled her eyes a bit, “its our signed consents. the teacher said you should take it to the student council’s office.”

“huh? why me?” you blurt out.

she frowns at your response. “how should i know?!” she hissed then rolled her eyes again. “just take it.” and with that her heels turned to start walking away, off to go back to her friends.

realizing being left with no choice but to comply, you grabbed the stack of papers and start heading the said office.

while on your way, your steps gets slower then eventually halted from your tracks. now that you’re finally going back to your senses, you remembered that heeseung and jay are both part of the student body.

heeseung’s the president and jay’s the vice. personally, you think they’re not deserving of the position as they secretly torment you, but the competition between them and the other participants were not even a close call. their votes were beyond far from the other party.

after letting out a nervous sigh, you started walking again. you tried convincing yourself that they’re probably done with you by now.

a pinch in your heart and you want to curse yourself. not just by feeling a hint of disappointment, but because of the excitement slowly flaring inside your chest. its making your hand shakes a bit, anticipation looming right after.

arriving right in front of their office alloted for the school’s student body, you gulped. feeling so nervous and at the same time thrilled, you needed some time to calm yourself down.

a few knocks at the door is what you do and not even twenty seconds, the door opened.

the first thing you see is park jongseong’s furrowed brows. he looked so attractive with that serious expression on his face.

your mouth gaps, reading to defend yourself for being here when he didn’t even question your presence. he just turned his back then walks towards where he’s probably sitting before your knocked.

you blinked a couple of times, still a little fazed of his behavior. it was a bit weird reaction or maybe that’s how he really is to other people. your heart sank, shoulder almost obviously lowering.

“w-where should i put these?” you tried cracking a conversation with him. it was a bit pathetic on your side.

“on the table.” he shortly replied without even sparing you a glance.

his cold demeanor clearly hurt you that made the corner of your eyes sting. you’re already aware that they’re ignoring you, but this is like a slap to your face.

after you placed it along with the other stacks of paper, you turned around quickly, ready to bolt out from this place when he talk again.

“did i said that you can leave?” jay's husky voice almost echoes through the whole room.

it caught you off-guard that your feet moves even before your brain can process it. with both hands on your sides, you stood by the door awkwardly. his eyes met yours and it didn’t reflect any emotions that adds up to the heavy atmosphere.

“u-uh, do you need me to bring something?” you glanced away and tries to look around the room, trying to find something that can flicker your interest.

he shakes his head side to side before he prompt his chin at the vacant sofa by the corner. eventually understanding what he meant, you trudged over where he wants you to be.

“i’ll be done with this in a bit.” he stated that you only answered with a short nod.

you’re clueless and unable to comprehend anything that’s happening. assumedly, you’re here only to deliver the consent letters and now he’s not letting you leave?

your heart batters faster than usual, casually making you percieved of slight pain on your chest. the main reason for this occurence is still unknown, but that’s the least of your concern.

the whole room fell silent once again after jay’s last sentence. you kept your mouth shut despite enduring the boredom.

your body jolted when jay pushed his chair away from the table after closing his laptop. your heart starting to thump fast once again when you felt his heated gaze darted at you.

he’s not saying anything that made you even more agitated. his eyes bore onto you, not glancing away even for a second. finally, he heavs a sigh before trudging in front of the sofa.

when he’s in front of you, feet almost touching, he stops and stares down. with a thumping heart you tried to look at him, but ends up failing as you are quick to tear your gaze off.

“take off your panties.”

your breath hitched and you felt like you’ve heard that wrong. with your mind clouded with a lot of things, there’s a possibility that you just misheard it, right?

with widen eyes, you glanced at him dumbfounded. “excuse me?”

he tilts his head, still with a placid look on his face. hands sliding inside the pocket of his uniform’s trousers.

“take off your panties.” he repeats himself for you.

“strip for me.” the familiar words he utters sent instense shivers over your spine. it was crazy how used you are on hearing those words that it doesn’t caught you off guard anymore.

“b-but,” your eyes glanced at the direction of the door and instantly, jay understood.

he turns and starts walking towards it, the hills of his shoes clicking on the floor. the sound itself make you feel your stomach churn.

he reaches for the knob and smoothly locked it. he faced you once again and huffs, “better now, baby?”

your knees wants to give out even though you’re already sat down after hearing him say that endearment.

with the lack of response, jay stood in front of you again then rest his hand on his hips.

“do it now.”

“what if some people comes inside?” your voice shakes that makes jay’s mind clouded.

“i already locked it. nobody’s going inside.”

“what if they knock—”

“are you going to take it off or do you want me to do it?” he asks with a calm voice.

your lips got caught in between your teeth. contemplating whether to do as he said or no. the door is a few feet away, you can just bolt and escape him. that thought dissipate as he moves to your line of vision.

“y/n.” this time his tone sounds so stern.

with flustered face, you lowered your head and slowly reach for your underwear. you have no idea what’s his reaction because you’re avoiding to look at jay’s eyes.

“good girl.”

you can swear that your face is as red as tomatoes right the moment. with how sexy his low voice sounds and at what you’re doing, heat rushes your cheeks.

after sliding the small garment off, you closed your thighs, feeling so naked without it. jay’s eyes grew dark at the sight of you being like this.

“don’t hide from me.” he ordered and pressed his hand over your shoulder to make you rest at the sofa.

you slightly yelp at what he did and soon, one of his hand pushed your thighs apart. you blushed and tries to fight back which leads to nothing as he just swiftly made his way. jay’s glared at you once in your failed attempt of stopping him.

“look at that,” he stated while staring down at your now exposed core.

you shut your eyes, feeling so embarrassed. this isn’t the first time he saw you like this. he even saw you without anything on, but because its been days since they last had their playtime, it made you feel even more awkward than usual.

“you’re already so wet for me, baby.” he whispers, eyes growing darker out of lust while almost salivating at the view of your pussy clenching over nothing.

“such a slut for me.” he leans in and gather a generous amount of saliva then let it drip down on your core.

you pursed your lips harder and threw your head back while shutting your eyes. the view feels too illegal to watch. it is illegal to these kind of things here, in this office, at your school. the amount of trouble you’ll get into once caught.

“j-jay,” you almost bit your tongue as the suppose to be warning came out as a mone.

he glanced at you over his eyelashes before dipping his head down, finally connecting his lips at your dripping core.

“ugh," your fingers unconsciously grabbed his hair that instantly made you crack your eyes open, surprise by your own action.

“i'm s-sorry,” you said and was about to pull it away when he rest his big hands over yours. keeping it in place.

“its okay, you can touch my hair.” he said before going back on lapping senselessly over your cunt.

it made you hitch your breath and lose your mind. the feeling of his tongue grazing all the sides of your womanhood and how amazingly he’s doing it is too much. the way he makes out with your clit, tongue sliding in to your hole from time to time.

“j-jay, oh my gosh—” you clash your hand on your mouth to keep silent. afraid to make noticeable noises that can gather attention from outside.

“so sweet.” he groans through your pussy, the vibration almost sent you to oblivion. over the right things that you should do, like push him away and leave this place.

instead of doing that, your fingers carded his soft hair and grabbed over it feeling a knot on your stomach. climax almost reaching you.

when you’re about to reach the heaven, jay pulls away and you almost groaned out of displeasure and the lost contact from his sinful mouth. jay smirks and smoothly took off his trousers.

you gulped, eyes full of anticipation of seeing his erect manhood. jay didn’t even bother taking it all off, just enough to pull his member out in the open. his cock is so hard and thick, making you feel conscious about how it would stretch you out good.

muffled curses showers your mind as you fight your demons trying to escape you.

he strokes his cock a few times before nearing it to your core. when its head slightly grazes your line, you whimpered softly, catching his attention. jay scoffed smugly. proud that its him making you feel like this, making you look like you’re going to lose your mind.

he traces your line using his throbbing head and then he finally slid it inside, all of his length. he watches it disappeared as it fully enters you making the two of you let out sensual moans.

“fuck.” he curses as your grip over his arm tightens.

he glances at you and when he saw how you have your eyes shut, he taps your cheeks gently. “watch me fuck you good, baby.”

and with that you obliged to his demands. you let yourself get drawn by his hot stares and fall on his trap. it was as if you just lose control of your own body and just follows what he’s about to tell you.

“oh you’re taking me so well.” he growled above you as he continue fucking his dick deep inside in a slow pace. it was torture.

he kept it like that until he felt you tightening around him, suffocating his cock. he knows you’re about to come and the look on your face just makes him want to just fuck you senseless. but it wasn’t the plan.

you can almost taste it. mind clouded by nothing but the thought of creaming around jay’s hardened cock. the imminent pleasure that approaching made you nibble on your lips a little bit more harder, that you’re sure it will bleed anytime soon.

“oh gosh—” brows narrowing closer as he reaches deeper of your insides.

but the clear anticipation came running down the drain when jay suddenly pulls it out leaving you hanging, losing your chance to reach climax. frustration and embarrasment replacing them right away.

jay finished outside of you after he strokes his dick a few more times, shooting his thick cum on your hole. you look at him in disbelief, wondering if he happens to miss that you haven’t reached your climax yet. it was impossible.

it was confirmed when you saw the evident smirk on his lips as he stood up. the conniving look on his face ignites annoyance inside of you.

feeling too naked and definitely uneasy, you decided to pick your underwear and slid it back, disregarding the uncomfortable wet juice still leaking out from your neglected core.

“see you around, y/n.” you even heard him say before you left him inside that room.

it was your last two subjects and you’re still on a foul mood. after what happened at the student council’s office with jay, you can’t get rid of your bad mood. maybe because you’ve been denied of your release. for the first time. you never knew it felt this way.

“y/n, coleen and shin.” your head perks up at the mention of your name.

“please go to the journalism club room. its your turn to take your i.d pictures.” the homeroom teacher announces.

the other girls that was called stood up right away. you don’t want to go. you’re not really on the mood to take pictures. not when you’re feeling sulky and pissed off.

in the end, you forced yourself up and go to take your i.d picture. all you want is for you to go home and finally leave this place.

the club room is at the other side of the building and you can see that some students are around the hallway, goofing around.

since the journalism club have talented photographers, they’re tasked to take the student’s i.d pictures for this school year. you didn’t think too much of it as it doesn’t bother you at all. the school can do whatever they want.

when you entered the club, its filled with students. you noticed curtains that serves as divisions inside. there are a total of four stalls where students gets inside to get their pictures taken. probably one photographers waiting for them.

multiple sounds of cameras clicking can be heard around.

“please find your section and name here then sign.” the girl at the table near the entrance caught your attention.

you nodded and proceed on finding your name. after doing that, you’re instructed to write your full name on a white piece of paper.

“head over the stall at the end.” she says not even throwing you a glance and focuses on arranging something on her laptop.

you ignored her behavior and just walks to the end stall. the curtain that serves as the door to keep privacy is thick, preventing you from seeing what’s inside.

you moved it and your heart fell at the sight of a man’s back.

jake sim.

probably noticing your presence and hearing the shuffling of the curtain, he looked over his shoulder. his lips curled into a grin at the sight of you. his messy hair paired with his glasses looks so good on him. his free hand raises and pulls his lollipop out from his mouth, making a ‘pop’ sound.

“what are you waiting for? get inside.” he tilts his head, prompting you to come in.

“o-oh, okay.” and you stepped inside.

he pushed forward making you smell him more as he reaches for the curtain to close it behind you.

“sit down at the chair please.” his sweet voice rings on your ear making you feel things.

you follow what he said and sat down at the chair by the center. he was doing something on his camera, totally focused while his tongue plays with the lollipop that is now inside his mouth.

the frustration from before got you too occupied that you failed to remember that he’s part of this club. jake sim just can’t be more perfect. he cannot just be the smart, handsome student who came from a wealthy family. of course, he’s good at taking photos too.

“all right.” he says and finally diverts his attention towards you.

it caught you off guard and totally took your breath away. he glances down at the paper you’re holding. he raises one of his eyebrow then glanced back at your eyes.

“get rid of that paper. i know your full name so damn well.” he says and grabbed the paper to throw it to the side.

“smile for the camera.” he said casually and placed it near his face.

you've seen him with his camera before. during events at school and the journalism needs to cover it, he will be around taking pictures. he looked so handsome whenever he’s doing that. you can tell he loves doing it.

“sweetheart,” he pulls away from the camera to look at you.

“huh?” you asked totally spacing out.

“show me that pretty smile.”

you quickly blushed because of his words. he clicked the camera a playful smile spreads across his face. he didn’t pull away this time but give you subtle compliments, enjoying how good you look right now.

for jake, whenever you look so clueless and innocent, that’s when he loses his mind the most. he feels like his purpose in this life is to corrupt you, taint you in any possible way he can.

“that's it. very pretty.” he clicked multiple times and when he finally gets satisfied, he pulls away to check them out.

you heaved out a sigh, trying to relax yourself. just by then you realized that you’ve been holding your breath. jake’s taking him away from you.

“okay, we got it.” he announced that made you feel relief.

you thanked him and stood up, ready to leave when his arm blocked you from taking further steps. he looked at you with furrowed brows.

“where are you going?”

“outside?” you answered unsure.

“go sit back down. we’re not yet done.” he says sternly and unplugged something from his camera.

maybe it was the cord connecting the camera to the laptops outside. so the students outside can see the actual shots right away.

“but i t-thought you said...” your words stalls when he shoot you this intimidating stares.

it left you with no choice but to walk back to the chair and sit down. jake’s face relaxes and he smirks again.

“now, take off your clothes.”

“w-what?”

he shrugged his shoulders. like he didn’t just said the most hilarious thing he can say inside a studio filled with other students.

“you heard me, sweetheart.” he clicks the side of his cheeks attractively.

“strip for me.” jake’s smile was so evil when he say those words.

you kept still, hands fidgets feeling uneasy. he is the type you can’t say no to. because he will turn sulky right away. and sulky jake is bad news.

“b-but there’s students around, jake. they might see—”

“what do you think of me? stupid?” he scoffs, sounding a bit offended. panic occurs you, ready to defend yourself and explains that its not what you’re trying to conclude

“i already told you that we’re the only ones allowed to see your body.” he sounded so serious, scaring you slightly.

“now take it off before i end up ripping them off of you.” he added aggressively.

it scared you. you knew he will do it.

his eyes sparkled when he saw you reaching for your buttons. with flustered face, your eyes glances away from his piercing eyes. he started taking photos of you. the continuous clicking of his camera and him not saying anything made you feel on edge.

he took multiple photographs of your exposed upper body while your skirt are still on. for jake it was perfect. he can print this pictures and tape it on his room wall so he can stare at it all day.

“panties off. i want to see my cunt.” he then settles down his camera at the sight.

you gulped, the memory of what happened earlier this day with jay flashes back to your mind. the way this somehow reminds you of that scene is crazy. its too similar, but at the same time different. due to their unalike personalities, they’re delivering the same scenarios in their own styles.

he was licking the lollipop like as if imagining it was your pussy he was devouring. he watches while you take off your undergarment, slightly feeling impatient.

the lollipop was out from his mouth as it gaps the moment he saw your pussy. he glances at your eyes shortly then steps closer.

he licked his lips then touches your chin to make you look up at him. you looked at his eyes and he leans to kiss you, sliding his tongue inside your mouth, giving you a taste of the sweetness from the candy.

your mouths continued doing that for a while before he moves away, looking completely drunk in lust for you. he roams his eyes around your face before giving you one last peck.

he then crouches down to be in the same level as your cunt. he leans closer, his breath fanning your sensitive skin. your breath is heavy, unable to contain the lust forming inside you as well.

he raises his hand then tastes the lollipop again then pulls out. he then dips his head, lips kissing your core. you let out a gasp, surprised. a hand clapped over your mouth to muffle any sound.

he pulls away as he looks up to you with his doe puppy-like eyes.

“your cunt is definitely sweeter.” he commented and threw the candy away shamelessly before starting diving back in to eat you out.

“oh my— j-jake!” you whispered, trying to contain your whimpers and control yourself.

he chuckles while still mouth connected on you. he didn’t waste any second before sliding two fingers inside, fucking it inside you with a way that sends your mind somewhere else.

“cunt so sweet, so perfect.” he praises as he continues.

he glances at you and saw how desperation flickers your eyes. you looked adorable trying not to make any sound, afraid that you’ll be caught for doing nasty things inside the school premises.

“you’re so pretty, aren’t you sweetheart?” he asks with a hint of innocence like as if he’s not finger fucking you right now.

he opens his sinful plump lips then slide his tongue out, leaning down to your core to start working on your clit while his fingers are busy sliding in and out of you.

the feeling was too much, the sensation is too much for you to bear that it made you groan. your hand are tightly gripping your mouth to muffle the sound as much as you can.

“s-so near,” you whispered while staring down at him eating you deliciously.

“yeah? cum for me then...” he says shortly.

he was doing a great job on pleasuring you that it was not long until you can feel the familiar knot forming inside your stomach. it slightly worry you that he will do the same thing jay did.

“cum for me, sweetheart. let me get a taste of that sweet juice of yours.” he mumbles sounding so sexy, eyes never leaving you.

“j-jake.” you moaned his name.

he smirks, “that’s right. i’m the one making you feel crazy.” he sounded so full of himself, smug.

“ugh," your head threw back, eyes tightly shut as you shakes a bit after reaching your most wanted release.

jake’s lips on your core, making sure to harvest every bit of your sweet cum. he’s addicted and he’s not even bothered by it.

still high from that delicious climax, you couldn’t help but travel your gaze down to his pants. a dent slightly showing that made you salivate a bit.

“we’re done.” he says that snapped you out of your trance.

you looked at him confused. “h-huh?”

he smirks, “what? you want something else?” he taunts with a hint of sarcasm.

“you’re not getting my dick today, sweetheart. that’s my punishment for you.”

your brows draws closer at his remark. wondering what he meant by punishing you. as far as you remember, you didn’t do anything wrong. so why is he punishing you?

now, jay slids in your mind and wonders if not letting you cum is his way of punishing you.

“i’m done with stall number four.” jake shouts, informing the student outside that he’s finished with his business.

he glances at you and when the lust faded, embarrasment kicks in. you quickly fixed yourself and hurried outside.

everyone seems to be busy with their own business so none of them took notice of your slightly crumpled uniform and your forehead filled with beads of sweat.

once you stepped outside the club room, your steps halted when you saw heeseung and sunghoon heading your way. their eyes both have those cold, dark stares that made your heart race.

heeseung gave you a cold shoulder like usual, walking pass by you and straight to the club room.

sunghoon blocked your way. he’s staring right at you before running his eyes down to your feet. after observing you for a while, his hand raises to fix your blouse.

“students should always wear their uniform properly.” he utters in a low voice.

such big words coming from someone who have the first three buttons of his uniform open. you kept your mouth shut and just glance away.

he sighs after doing the small fixing on you.

“t-thank you.” you just ended saying that, feeling awkward.

his attention then darted at the door of the club room when it swings open, “hoon, its our turn.” heeseung calls for the younger friend.

he nods and soon dart his eyes at you.

“meet me after practice tomorrow at the ice hockey’s locker room.” he leans and places a kiss on your neck before heading towards heeseung. leaving you completely dumbfounded at his actions.

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