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k-films · 25 days ago

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[NEW PROD.] Check out Lili's new fic !

　ᅠ 📩　ᅠ EMAILS BETTER LEFT UNSENT part 1　　────　ᅠ ( park sunghoon )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your crush on your best friend of almost ten years is getting out of hand, and you feel like it’s time to give up𑁋especially after seeing how well your desk mate treats you.

　　　ᅠ 박성훈 & 심재윤 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 32k ⠀ genre fluff a bit of angst childhood best friends to lovers non idol au high school au ⠀ contains mentions of food sickness crying skinship pet names ocs and random characters ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ note ᅠ from ᅠ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈 ! ᅠ HELLO your fav fic is back and better!!! (i hope.) saurrrrr i know the word count is crazy and tumblr does not let me put that much words in one post.. so this will have to be in two parts >< (i am so sorry) thank you to soph for proofreading this for me!! i hope it wasn't too much babes ㅠㅠ and enjoy reading my debut enhypen fic on my new blog ^_^

　　　ᅠ ＞︿　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

THE December afternoon unraveled like a quiet, fluffy blanket over the landscape. The sky was coloured a soft gray, thick with clouds as it waits for the evening to set. A chilly breeze blows through the skeleton of trees, their leaves long gone. The air was biting against your exposed skin, each breath forming clouds swirling through the atmosphere.

Nevertheless, you walked through the midst of winter, unbothered by the stinging cold that’s making the tip of your nose red. Munching through a steaming bungeo-ppang in your hands, you skipped jollily through the neighbourhood, happy that you finally didn’t have to spend money on snacks that week. Your brother, Heeseung, had lost a bet against you, and he had to pay for your afternoon snacks for a week.

As you approached the road your house was located at, you spotted a boy seemingly your age. He was wearing a black puffy winter coat, a pair of ice skates dangling from his hand. His shoulders hunched up and down, quietly sobbing outside the house.

You heard that scene immediately—why would a boy, who seemed like he was also seven years old like you—cry outside alone?

Taking a bite out of your bungeo-ppang, you approached him. He heard the rustling of your footsteps against the snowy pavement, and immediately brought his head up. He hastily wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, though he couldn’t hide the fact that he was still crying.

“Are you okay?” you asked, pushing aside the half-chewed contents of your mouth to one side of your cheeks.

The boy pressed his lips together. He remained stoic for a while. “It’s not your business.”

You frowned. “But you’re crying—and alone too! Do you know,” you paused, swallowing the bite, “how cold it is right now? You could freeze to death!”

Your mother had always taught you to be kind and compassionate, and it didn’t quite stick with you to let him sob there alone in the cold.

The boy didn’t reply, and he remained staring at you, tears sticking to his face.

“You know what? Here,” you said, reaching for the extra bungeo-ppang that you bought. You handed it to him. “I hope that cheers you up and keeps you warm!”

The boy held the bungeo-ppang in his hands, mortified. Did this girl, cheeks and nose red from the cold, hand him a warm treat just because he was crying? He didn’t even know you, and you certainly didn’t know him.

“Thank you,” he said quietly—a little too quiet that you barely caught it.

You flashed him a smile—one that he could never forget.

“Come on, eat it,” you urged, taking a bite of your own bungeo-ppang. You chewed on your bite slowly, hoping that your action helped prompt the boy in front of you to do the same.

You took a seat on the steps next to him, watching closely as he slowly unwrapped the bungeo-ppang. Your lips began to form a wide smile, the cold air nipping at your cheeks as they rose up. You watch him take a hesitant bite of the bungeo-ppang you had shoved into his hands, a flourishing feeling of thrill in your chest. As he began chewing, his sniffles began to fade away, and the tension in his shoulders slowly disappeared.

“See?” you said, grinning. “Bungeo-ppang makes everything better!”

Sunghoon didn’t answer right away, letting his eyes dart between the bungeo-ppang in his hands and you, who’s beaming brightly. His tongue remained silent for a while. He slowly chewed on his bite, letting the sweetness of the red bean paste melt on his tongue before finally setting his gaze firm to you. The frown that he had on for the entire day began to waver without him realising. Then, just barely—he smiled.

It was funny but endearing at the same time—how you, a cute little girl with cheeks puffed out, filled with food—was attempting to cheer him up, not even knowing why he was upset in the first place.

You smiled back, not aware that your smile caused a feeling that swept through the boy like a gush of fresh air.

“I’ll get going then!” you said. You gave him a wave of goodbye as cheerful as your smile, then you walked away, not knowing that you would see the crying boy again.

Except that he’s not crying the next time you meet him.

You were walking through the school hallways, rushing to get back to your homeroom after grabbing your colouring book from your locker. Too busy minding how fast you could get to class without sweating too much, you bump into a boy that looks too familiar for you to just shrug off and say sorry.

“You–!” you exclaimed, almost dropping the colouring book in your hands. The same boy that you saw crying alone outside of a house was now standing in front of you, a calm expression painted neatly across his face.

Your eyes darted towards the name tag pinned on the boy’s right chest.

Park Sunghoon.

“Yeah?” he answered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I know you! You’re the boy who was crying–”

Before you could finish blurting out the rest of your sentence, Sunghoon extended his hands, clasping them over your mouth to shut you up. He frowned, and under his slightly overgrown hair, you could see the tips of his ears turning red.

“Yes,” he grunted, forcing a smile. “I’m the same person.”

You stood there, starstruck as you waited for him to remove his hands. Once he did, a huge smile was revealed on your face.

“You go to the same school as me—this is so cool.” Your eyes sparkled with wonder.

“Well,” Sunghoon sighed, nodding. “Yes, I do.”

You giggled, feeling like you’re jumping over the moon. You don’t know why, but ever since the day you gave him a warm snack, you couldn’t forget it. You would remember that moment for years to no end.

The moment you made Sunghoon smile for the first time.

Something moved in your heart—and it’s as if Sunghoon traded you his friendship in exchange for making him smile that winter afternoon.

Over the years, it was evident that reserved Sunghoon made room in his heart, in his life, for you. Your worlds expanded—from chasing each other at the playground during recess into racing each other during high school sports day, from yelling at each other about the silliest things into late-night debates about life, and from staying up late to secretly eat snacks under the table to staying up late to study together.

All of a sudden, it’s been ten years.

Many things changed for sure, and one thing that was significant is that the boy who you once found crying in the cold had transformed into a handsome youngster.

But through all the ups and downs, one thing remained the same.

Sunghoon always smiled at you.

Or at least, most of the time.

He is still unpredictable, too.

And somehow—tucked neatly into all the times of teasing, him calling you “princess” more often than he calls you your own name, his lingering touches, and the way he always saves you the last bite of his food—you found your heart constantly betraying you.

“PARK Sunghoon, if you don’t get up right now, I swear I’m going to smack your head with this hockey stick.”

You stand at the edge of his bed, already fully dressed and ready for school. You hit your head lightly with Sunghoon’s hockey stick in one hand, trying to calm yourself down.

A few minutes ago, his mother had let you in, feeling sorry about how you had already waited fifteen minutes outside, in the freezing cold. Your irritation from the wait only spiraled when Sunghoon’s mother told you that his son hasn’t woken up despite her many attempts to try and awaken him, and you should try waking him instead.

You don’t mind doing that at all, but the fact that you have reminded him so many times to sleep early for the first day of school, and the audacity he has to not do as promised makes you even more agitated than you should be.

You have always walked to school with Sunghoon—you had given up trying to catch up with Heeseung and his friends, and now that he’s in college, you have no one to accompany you. Except for your best friend, who’s making you feel like giving up on asking him to walk you to school too.

You cross your arms, glaring at the lump under the blankets. It’s the first day of senior year, and you’re stuck with trying to get you and your best friend on time at the gates.

“Five more minutes,” comes his muffled groan.

“Did you stay up playing games again?” you nag. And in a more stern tone, you continue. “I’m leaving without you, Park Sunghoon.”

“Five more minutes,” he whines from under the covers.

You make an annoyed sound—imitating the one that your mother often makes when she’s displeased. You drop the hockey stick to the ground with a loud thud, promptly yanking his blankets away. “Nope. Park Sunghoon, we are not doing this again.”

You choke on the remainder of your words, the rest of your blazing irritation dissolving into the air. The blanket had slipped from your hand, revealing a very shirtless, sleep-tousled Sunghoon. His hair is a complete mess, and his toned arms become more apparent as he stretches them.

Your eyes widen, and you immediately look away. But the damage is done, and you’re in an obvious red mess. Your heart had already reacted.

God, please help me. Not this again.

“Is it really necessary for you to be like this in the morning?” you mutter, huffily grumbling—more to the fact that the boy you’ve been liking since middle school is shirtless in front of you, than the fact that he’s only got ten minutes to get ready for school.

“Like what?” Sunghoon asks, smirking. He gets up, sitting at the edge of his bed as he ruffles his tousled hair.

“Like a menace.”

“Woah,” Sunghoon chuckles. “You wound me, princess.”

You turn sharply to him, ignoring the obvious pink spread across your cheeks, and you give him a glare. “Go get ready before I leave you.”

“Okay, fine,” Sunghoon laughs as he grabs his towel and bolts towards the bathroom, leaving you steaming at the corner of his bedroom. “Wait for me!”

And as he shuts the bathroom door close, you know. Another year of this. Another year of pretending that you totally don’t fancy your best friend.

YOU walk towards the school grounds, almost running to reach past the gates before the clock strikes 8. Sunghoon walks leisurely behind you, his hands shoved into his pocket. He wears a small grin on his face, eyes trained on you as you jog towards your group of girl friends.

“Y/N!” Jennie exclaims, pulling you into a hug. “I thought you’d never make it. It’s already seven forty!”

“Yeah, you’d always come earlier than all of us, even in freshman year,” Naeun nods, casually sipping her carton of milk. “What’s up today?”

“The usual,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. You gesture to Sunghoon, who’s approaching you. “See that loser over there? He woke up at seven fifteen! And guess who had to physically yank him out of bed?”

Jennie makes a disgusted look. “My goodness… and we’re seniors already.”

You laugh, shrugging. “Exactly my point.”

“I sometimes don’t understand how you even cope with him,” Naeun shakes her head.

“Love makes everything beautiful,” Jennie giggles, elbowing you. Looking into her eyes, you know that she’s joking—and the ‘love’ she’s referring to is merely platonic—but you can’t help but feel a little unsettling.

Does she know?

After Sunghoon catches up with you, you then walk to the school gymnasium to attend the assembly with your friends. You walk side by side with your girls, arms intertwined as you chat mindlessly over the things you did over the summer holidays.

The seniors are seated at the most back of the gym, and you’re somehow ecstatic that you finally get to sit on the ‘honorary’ benches. It feels great in some way, but it’s also telling you that you’re a senior now—you’re a role model, and everyone looks up to you.

Sunghoon takes his seat next to you, as per usual, adjusting his tie as he gets himself comfortable on the bench. You settle yourself down, your girlfriends to your right.

You’re starting to take in your surroundings, to process the fact that you’re finally a senior—and you have about seven months left of school; until you feel a smooth cold surface press against your cheek. You turn to the source at once, finding it to be Jake, holding a refrigerated can of Milkis in your direction.

“Jake!” you exclaim, unsure if you should take the beverage that’s obviously for you.

“Hi,” Jake grins. “I told you to call me Jaeyun—and here,” he leans forward, gently pressing the can of Milkis into your hand, “this is for you.”

You stare at the can in your hand. “Thank you?”

“Of course,” Jake winks, and before he can let the rest of his words reach you, Sunghoon acts swiftly.

Sunghoon straightens his posture, completely blocking Jake. He grabs the can of Milkis from your hands, and he opens it with a quick and loud hiss.

It all happens too quickly, and you aren’t able to even register anything.

“Here,” he says in a plain tone, accompanied with a gaze as firm as his words. “Drink up.”

You grab the can from him, slightly turning away from two of them. You bring the drink to your mouth, feeling the uneasy energy emitting from the two boys.

YOU close your bedroom door behind you, sighing the day’s weight away. You drop your bag beside your study desk, heavy with all the books you carry throughout the day, and immediately launch yourself to your bed. You don’t care that it’s late into the evening and you’re still in your school uniform—complete from the blazer to the ribbon around your collar—all you need is the comfort of your bed.

Your head is spinning.

You had hoped, desperately, for a year free from all the complicated feelings swirling around in your heart. You know that it’d distract you, causing you to have to work harder than you already are. You know that it’s dangerous and hopeless—why would Sunghoon like you back?

You are nothing but his childhood best friend.

You toss your body to the other side, feet dangling off the bed.

But what about all the butterflies that flutter in your stomach, threatening to make you burst, everytime Sunghoon is near you?

It’s the first day of school, and your heart is already reacting with a great deal of joy. Your mind replays the little moments you had with Sunghoon today—subtle but enough to remind you of your not so little crush on your best friend.

Him fixing your hair and tying it back after hearing you grunt about your hair getting in the way of your lunch about two times.

Him holding your bag up the entire walk back home.

Him chuckling softly at you, the snow falling in slow motion around him, as he listens to you yap about the school’s new Physics tutor.

Him throwing his scarf to you, in a very unromantic way that you found so sweet, telling you huffily to remember to bring a thicker scarf next time.

That same scarf is still wrapped around your neck, the thick fabric comforting, his scent familiar.

You immediately sit up straight, harrumphing as you pull the scarf away.

I can’t do this.

Not bothering to even shrug your blazer off, you scramble to your desk, turning your laptop on. Your heart beating fast and your head feeling hot, you feel the extreme urge to let it all out.

You know you have to.

Five years of harbouring secret feelings for your best friend—feelings that you can’t ever bring yourself to tell him—is burdening.

You long into your email account, clicking the ‘compose’ button with the determined resolve of a seventeen year old.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Sunghoon, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if this will clog up your inbox, but I heard from Jay that you don’t really use this email address anymore. So I’m going to send everything here. I hope these emails will never, ever find you. Sent 22:45 PM. 1st March.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Sunghoon, Today is our last first day of school. Ever. It’s insane, isn’t it? I’ve known you ever since we started school, which was nine, almost ten years ago. Absurd, is it not? I remember vividly how we met. Or, more correctly, how our friendship started. It was a cold December evening. I remembered walking home from the convenience store, carrying a plastic bag of bungeo-ppang, my favourite winter snack ever. I thought about how foolish I looked—a small and petite seven-year-old kid munching on her snacks in the thick of winter—but how could I resist, risking eating them cold when I reached home? My older brother, Heeseung, lost a bet against me and he said he’d buy me anything I wanted from the convenience store. And, of course, as a seven year-old, I chose to buy a ton of my favourite snacks. Anyway, as I was waddling home, I saw you. Sitting outside of what I didn’t know back then was your house. Your face was wet with tears, the tip of your ears red from the cold. I remember specifically the moment—I cheerfully said ‘hi’, pouted when you didn’t answer and simply stared deep into my eyes. I then handed you a bungeo-ppang—the one with the red bean paste inside, my favourite one—to help brighten the grim look upon your face. And, of course, I remember so vividly, the smile that lit up your cute face. I didn’t even ask what went wrong. I don’t know why—maybe it was the instincts of a first grader. It’s as if the universe was telling me that the only thing you yearned for at that moment was something to simply rejoice your mood. For the first time, Sunghoon, I felt warm on a winter day. Sent 23:09 PM. 1st March.

After pressing send, you lean back into your chair, some kind of relief washing through you. You read over the words you typed, a piece of your pent up feelings for Sunghoon poured out into the screen. Your affections are safe here, expressed in the ways you’ve always wanted to, but you won’t ever have to ruin your lifelong friendship with him.

You smile to yourself, getting up from your desk.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Sunghoon, Thank you for the chocolate moist cake, by the way! It’s really good—I love your mom’s cooking. Okay, before you scold me—yes, I’m going to go and get ready! You’re coming at 16:30, so technically I still have around 30 minutes to pick out an outfit—and it’s not like we’re going on a date. We’re going to a cafe to study. Why am I even thinking of going on a date with you? Sent 16:07 PM. 14th March.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Sunghoon, Why are you so good-looking? Oh and I want to thank Jaeyun for playing basketball in class and accidentally throwing the ball at my face—now I get to see you up close. Since when are you so… handsome, Hoon? Thanks for saving me. I would’ve hit the floor and cracked my skull if it wasn’t for you. Sent 17:01 PM. 19th March.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Sunghoon, I’m sure you know this by now, but hoco’s in around a week. Do you have anyone to go with? Gosh, I feel so pathetic. I’m sitting in my room, like a complete idiot, typing away emails that convey my feelings. Emails, Hoon, that the person I like will most likely never read. I mean, I could’ve written letters… or confessed in person… or text you about this. But, yeah, instead of all the other brilliant options I should’ve done, I’m sending emails to an unused email address instead of confessing directly to the person I like. Funny, ‘cause the person I’m referring to—the person I like—it’s you. There’s a 99% chance you’ll never read these, since the email address I’m sending this to is your old one, the one you used in middle school—with a username that you now think is super weird. Again, do you have anyone to go with to hoco? I’m asking, ‘cause if you don’t, I’m here. I’ll go with you. Actually, scrap that. I want to go with you. Sent 6:00 AM, 1st April.

At the study session after lunch that day, you find yourself sitting at your desk, flipping through your textbook as you try your best to direct your focus to its contents. You spin the pen in your right hand absentmindedly, your brain already fried after only a few weeks of school.

“I swear, I think my brain is short-circuiting.”

Jake, who’s sitting next to you studying his own subjects, turns towards you. He smirks. “Maybe you just need a good tutor? Or someone to accompany you to the cafeteria right now—either of those choices, I volunteer.”

Sunghoon, whose seat is in front of yours, perks up from his notes. He glances at you, but doesn’t say anything.

You roll your eyes, laughing. “I’ll pass. You’re trying to catch me off guard, aren’t you? Planning to make me pass out in a food coma.”

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Sunghoon, Mom just asked if I got a date for homecoming. What should I say? I mean, it’s not like I don’t have any potential candidates—Jaeyun’s been hinting to go with me for a while. Poor him, honestly. I keep on ignoring him… Also, Naeun told me that Huening Kai from 12-2 is planning to ask me if I want to go to homecoming with him tomorrow. Well, if you’re asking me, I could go with Jaeyun or Kai. It doesn’t really matter—Jaeyun’s really nice, he treats me well. He plays basketball too, and I’m sure he’ll show up with flowers or something (that’s what Jennie, his twin sister, said). Kai seems okay, too, I’ve heard rumours about him being ridiculously handsome if he wants to. I’m not entirely sure what that means. But, deep inside my heart, I know just perfectly who I want to go with. You. Just… you. Sent 13:43 PM, 1st April.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Hoon! 30 minutes ago, I saw Heeseung come home with purple flowers and a bunch of chocolate. Something clicked inside my head as I knew something was up—something related to my friend, Jennie Sim, as her favourite colour is purple and she LOVES chocolate. Okay, anyway, I rushed downstairs to ask him what that was all about. And guess what? Heeseung’s planning to ask her to homecoming! I’m kicking my feet in the air as I’m writing this. Though, you know, I wish I had someone like my brother. I mean, someone who’s going to love me like I’m the only woman in his mind. Like I’m the only one that matters, and that he loves me with his entire existence. Don’t ask me why I wish for that someone to be you. It’s weird. It’s bad. I’m not supposed to like my own best friend. Sent 17:55 PM, 1st April.

IT’S the next day, and you’re dreading every single step towards school. Today, Sunghoon is not walking you to school—you’re not too disappointed, as you needed some time away from him.

It’s ridiculous—you know you shouldn’t even be upset. You and Sunghoon are just friends. Nothing more.

“Y/N!”

You turn around, curious to see Jake running towards you from the school gate. Jake is your desk mate, and your best friend’s twin brother—so the two of you had been quite close ever since Jennie and Jake’s family moved next door.

You wait for him patiently, and unsurprisingly, he barely takes a few seconds to catch up to you.

“Hey,” he greets you tenderly, slightly out of breath. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you smile. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” the brunette replies, offering you the goofiest smile you’ve ever seen. “Just wanted to walk with you. Also, Y/N, I swear, you get prettier every time I see you. What are you trying to do—trying to make me fall harder for you?”

You choke on thin air, eyes bulging as you try to form a response.

Jake grins, but then he looks around, looking for someone. Without missing a beat, he asks. “Where’s Sunghoon?”

“He’s probably on his way, still,” you answer, glancing at the time on your smartphone, a little glad Jake changed the topic.

7:15 AM.

“Sunghoon should arrive soon. He usually comes to school exactly at twenty past seven,” you continue. “I honestly have no idea why. He wants to come to school earlier than half past seven, but not earlier than quarter past seven.”

Jake chuckles at your little rant about Sunghoon. “He’s one attentive person, I guess.”

“Surely,” you nod, mentally slapping yourself for smiling about such a small talk about Sunghoon.

“Come on, let’s walk to class,” Jake says, “we’ll wait for Sunghoon there—do you want any drinks? You know, like coffee or tea. Strawberry milk, maybe?”

You begin walking with Jake, footsteps in sync, to your homeroom. “Drinks? This early in the morning?”

“You look like you haven’t eaten anything for breakfast,” Jake replies. He grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the cafeteria—straying away from the path to your homeroom. His eyes quickly scan for any snacks or lightweight meals he could buy for you.

“Jae,” you say, purposely using a nickname you never use (and probably will never do again) to grab his attention. “You don’t have to buy me anything, you know.”

Jake, who’s deep in engagement with the cashier, perks up at the nickname. He turns around and gives you a grin, “yeah, I know I don’t have to. I just want to.”

“Here,” he hands you a kimbap and a box of mango yoghurt drink, the silly grin still on his face. That grin you always see Jake offer you. “Eat up.”

“Thanks,” you reply with a smile, marvelling at how delicious the kimbap in your hand looks.

7:35 AM.

“Hoon!” you exclaim, jumping out of your seat so abruptly it startles Jake—who’s reading a comic book next to you. You race towards your best friend at the door. Sunghoon, despite his usual nonchalant demeanour, gives you a small and brief smile.

“Hi,” he utters in his customary tone—deep and quiet. “You’re early.”

“Not really,” you reply with a bubbly smile.

“Have you eaten breakfast?” you ask as the two of you walk to your desks.

“I have—have you?”

You shrug. “Yeah, kinda—Jake bought me some.”

Sunghoon’s smile falls, but you’re too busy rambling to notice.

“You’re 5 minutes late, by the way.”

Sunghoon lets out a chuckle, his face quickly hiding the slip up, “I forgot you assume that I can teleport from the school gates right to the front of the class.”

Your cheeks flush warm, “no! I’m just saying… you usually come at half past seven. Like, exactly. Did something happen?”

Sunghoon pulls his chair out of his desk and sits down. Smirking, he comments, “Y/N, are you my girlfriend or something? You sound like it.”

His words make both you and Jake choke on thin air.

I wish, you think to yourself.

“Hoon!” you stammer, “what the hell?”

“Sorry,” he says in between gasps of silent, ‘Sunghoon’-type laughter. “Couldn’t defeat my intrusive thoughts.”

“So,” you begin, changing the topic of the conversation so flawlessly. It’s always been that way—nothing is ever really complicated with Sunghoon. You could talk about ten different topics in under five minutes; and he’d listen to it all. “Have you thought about who you’re bringing to homecoming?”

Homecoming. A topic that makes your stomach turn upside down—knowing that, given the current situation, you’d be going with Jake instead of Sunghoon.

And as expected, the two boys seated around you look up.

“Nope,” Sunghoon’s reply is simple.

“You? The golden hockey player of Decelis, haven’t thought about who to bring to homecoming?” Jake exclaims, with a touch of drama.

Sunghoon chuckles. “It’s just homecoming. I could bring anyone.”

You break his gaze, looking away.

That ‘anyone’ broke your heart just a little bit. If he could bring anyone, that possibly meant he wouldn’t bring you—there are many other girls, much prettier and livelier than you, that he could bring.

“You, Y/N?” Jake asks, “who are you going with?”

“I don’t know,” you reply after some time.

You watch as Sunghoon opens his mouth to speak, yet is fiercely cut off by Jake’s relaxed comment.

“You know, you could always go with me,” he says with a careless smile, leaning back into his chair.

Sunghoon stiffens while you awkwardly smile. This was the first time Jake had directly brought it up—his requests and subtle hints of going to homecoming with you had always been through Jennie, contrasting with the way he’s always so obvious with his interest in you. “Actually, I’m probably not going to homecoming.”

“Why?” Jake asks.

“Um…”

To be frank, despite being active in clubs, and being seemingly social, you dislike big social events. Especially the likes of homecoming or prom. There’s something about large crowds that makes you feel slightly out of place, and the fact that you’re surrounded by couples… just makes you a little sappy.

“Y/N doesn’t really like those kinds of events,” replies Sunghoon, his gaze directed to Jake a little too sharp than you’d like.

“Hoon,” you lament, nudging him with your elbow.

“If you’re asking her out,” Sunghoon continues, his nonchalant expression morphing onto his face, “you should know.”

“OI! Princess!” Sunghoon calls from behind you, oblivious of your widened eyes and accelerating heartbeat due to the nickname.

You turn around and stop in your tracks, letting him catch up. “Yeah?”

He adjusts the placement of his varsity jacket—his pride, earned by qualifying into the school’s varsity hockey team—before he speaks. “Are you really not going to homecoming?”

You purse your lips before nodding.

To you, there’s really no use of going to homecoming, not when the only person you’re truly interested in going with isn’t going.

“Yeah, no. I’m not. Why?”

Sunghoon shoves his hands into his pockets. For a second, he looked really disappointed. But the look quickly dissolves, and he shrugs. “N-nothing, I was just curious.”

Embarrassed, you quickly nod. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” he gives you a smile, ruffling your hair. “Get back home safely. Text me when you’ve arrived home.”

“But you’ll be at practice–”

“It’s okay,” Sunghoon cuts you off, flashing you a soft, reassuring smile. One that makes your heart lap a million miles per hour. “I’ll read it anyway. They can’t get rid of me—I’m Decelis’ best bet at winning this season.”

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Hoon… What was that? That was weird. Really weird. I don’t like it. Why did you ask me if I was really not going to hoco? Are you going to ask someone out, and not want them to think we’re friends? I… you know, what? I’m not going to think about it anymore. I don’t care. Just… ask out anyone you want to. Even if it’s not me. Even if it’s me. This possibility doesn’t quite make sense, as I don’t think you do see me the way I… see you. My saviour, the person who knows me best, the person I’ve developed feelings for. You know what, Hoon? I’ll go with Jaeyun, if there are no signs of you asking me to go with you. By tomorrow. Sent 18:01 PM. 2nd April.

“HONESTLY, Y/N, I admire you,” Jennie says suddenly, causing you to almost spit out your lunch.

You’re sitting at the usual spot you usually do with your girlfriends—Jennie and Naeun—people-watching as each of you devour your lunches. Jennie sits in front of you while Naeun sits on your left side. Jennie, as usual, has her lunch of various goodies from the convenience store; and Naeun, like you, sticks to what the school cafeteria serves. “What? Why?”

“I admire the way you don’t even care if you have a hoco date,” she continues.

“Oh, God,” you exhale shakily. “Jen, you scared me! And yes, I don’t care. If I don’t have a date, then I don’t have to go.”

Lie.

Kind of.

Actually, a very small part of you wanted to go to homecoming—just for the experience. Besides, you’re a senior now, and you won’t get to experience any of this after graduation. But again, you’re reminded by the fact that you do not have a date, or at least, the person that you want to go to isn’t your date.

“Why do you not want to go?” Naeun, from your left, asks. She gulps down the last bit of her strawberry milkshake before continuing. “I mean, I know you’re the top student, and you don’t party ‘cause all you do is shove your nose into a book and study. But, Y/N, it’s your last homecoming.”

You dramatically groan, “you girls know why I hate hoco. Looking at all the couples around me makes me wanna barf.”

Naeun and Jennie burst into laughter, clutching their stomachs. Amused, you grin along.

“Well, I can’t relate anymore,” Jennie giggles. “I’ve got–”

Naeun hits Jennie’s head lightly with her fork. “Okay, girl, we get it,” she turns to you, flipping hair off her shoulders. “Y/N, honestly, how does it feel when your best friend’s dating your brother?”

“We’re not dating!” Jennie shrieks. Naeun rolls her eyes.

You laugh, “honestly, it is kind of weird hearing someone talk so… fondly, I might say, of Hee oppa. Frankly, Jen, Hee oppa is not who you think he is.”

“He’s amazing,” gushes Jennie. One look at her face, and an exchanged glance between you and Naeun, was enough to tell that Jennie’s completely smitten.

“For now,” Naeun quickly adds. “Though, if he starts treating you like trash, or making you shed a sad tear, I won’t hesitate to burn his house down.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, despite agreeing with Naeun. Your brother or not, you’d destroy his life if he made your best friend sad. “Where am I going to live if you burn our house down?”

“Sucks to be Heeseung’s sister, huh?” Naeun jests.

“You can live with me,” Jennie adds on to the joke, “Jaeyun’s going to be delighted to have you live with us.”

“Mhm, remind me, are you finally going to go to hoco with Jake?” Naeun asks.

“Yeah, are you?” Jennie urges. “I swear, it is so annoying hearing him talk about you. It’s weird—aren’t you guys friends?”

You shove another dumpling into your mouth. “Yeah, we are friends… and yeah, it is weird, now that you say it.”

“Reject him if you don’t want to,” Naeun suggests. “Pity him. He’s been on your tail for like God knows how long, trying to get you as his homecoming date. And more.”

“He’s liked you for quite some time,” Jennie says softly. “Well, trust me, it’s weird hearing him talk about you, my best friend, in that way—but I do want you to decide quickly. If you don’t want to go with him, just say so.”

You stay silent, processing the obvious variety in Jennie’s words.

“This is for your own good, Y/N,” she adds, “and my twin brother’s own good, too.”

“I’m not sure what to do,” you finally say. “I… don’t want to risk losing a friend by rejecting him.”

Honestly, that’s how you feel with Sunghoon, too. Your friendship, strong and unbreakable for almost a decade, was the sole reason you’re afraid to confess your true feelings to him.

On the other hand, however, you feel extremely weirded out by Jake. You started befriending him in early sophomore year, when he was first assigned as your deskmate. You remember him being as bubbly and friendly as he is now, and you’re sure that the two of you became friends because of his benevolent attitude.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Jennie pats your shoulder. “I know him best to assure you that he’s not the type to break off a friendship just because his feelings aren’t reciprocated.”

Now, you feel a little less bad to tell Jaeyun (or Jake, to most people) that you’re going to go as his date only if Sunghoon’s not asking you too.

“SO, how was practice?” you ask Sunghoon, slightly smiling at how the thunk of your footsteps coincide.

Sunghoon tilts his head for a moment, trying to form his words. He then looks at you before replying, “yeah, it was okay. Nothing really interesting.”

“What about that newbie—what’s his name again?” you ask, recalling about Sunghoon telling you that they were having a few new players.

“Riki? The freshie?”

“Yeah!” you nod, “that one!”

“He’s okay,” replies Sunghoon, “he’s good, actually, for a freshman. I heard he played in middle school, so I guess that’s where the skills come from.”

You nod again, and comfortable silence engulfs the two of you. The crunch of autumn leaves beneath your steps and the gentle breeze creates a fulfilling ambiance.

“What about you?” he asks, after a few moments of silence—of you basking in his presence, enjoying the present of walking home with him. “I can’t imagine how hard it is to balance being our batch’s top scorer and orchestra at the same time.”

You chuckle. It had been hard on a few occasions; for example, if you had an orchestra concert to practise for, and around the same had tests to study for. But, generally, it’s quite simple. “Violin’s just a hobby of mine. I’m glad I have an orchestra club as a way to practise it.”

“Oh, shut up,” Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Don’t ever come to me and complain about it, then, if it’s ‘just a hobby’.”

You laugh, stealing a glance at Sunghoon. And, as always, it hits you.

You dislike, probably just a little bit, how carefree and easy you become when you’re with Sunghoon; how he makes everything feel so simple; how he makes life less tiring, and how he makes you feel that you’re worth befriending.

He’s so handsome it hurts—his fair complexion looks soft and well taken care of, his nose bridge is sharp, his smile stunning yet delicate.

“We’re here,” Sunghoon says, pushing you out of your train of thought. You stand, with him, in front of your house. The smell of kimchi soup begins to attack your sensory buds. “Oh, that smells good…”

“I think mom’s making dinner already,” you point out. “Do you wanna stay over? I can go and ask.”

Sunghoon shakes his head, smiling lightly. “No, it’s okay. As much as I want to devour every last drop of your mom’s cooking, I have to get home. My mom’s bringing us to visit grandma, so I shouldn’t miss it.”

You mirror his smile. “Okay. Get home safely.”

Sunghoon nods, and after a few steps away, he turns around and waves. He smiles—the usual, soft and gentle grin he always offers you, yet… something just feels different. He lingers around longer than you expect him to, before finally turning on his heel and walking home.

You watch him walk away, and it’s like a scene in melodramatic dramas: he strolls leisurely home, your eyes follow him from behind as golden brown leaves sway down from the trees.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Park Sunghoon, It’s Thursday now. Um, yeah, I know I shouldn’t be sleeping this late, but I just finished watching 20th Century Girl, and I took, like, 15 minutes to calm myself down from all the tears, hehe. Are you… going to ask me to go to homecoming with you? It’s getting more and more hopeless as every minute passes by. In 7 hours, I’m going to go to class and say yes to Jaeyun, you know? I hate it. I hate how I’m hoping you would stop me from saying yes to Jaeyun. I hate how I’m desperately wishing you’re preparing something to ask me to homecoming. You know, what? Forget it. I’m going with Jaeyun. Sent 00:10 AM, 3rd April.

“Y/N, you okay?” Heeseung asks, making you look up from your half-eaten bowl of a concoction of rice, soup, kimchi, bean sprouts and seaweed. He sips on his tea, eyes trained sharply on you.

“Yeah, I am,” you reply, feeling a little guilty. You weren’t entirely lying, but it’d be such a fabrication if you told yourself you weren’t feeling down at all. “Why?”

“Did you sleep late? Or did you get dumped?”

“Oppa!” you exclaim, “when did I ever get a boyfriend?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that you’re always sticking around with Sunghoon. People think you’re his girlfriend, so no one’s asking you out,” Heeseung snorts.

Your eyes slightly widen. Heeseung sounds sarcastic, but you uncover some truth behind his words. “Wait—people actually think like that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Heeseung replies, rolling his eyes. He swallows his bite before continuing, “everyone thinks you’re Sunghoon’s, you know?”

“People think so?”

“Girl, the two of you act like a literal couple. You hold hands, kiss cheeks and call each other nicknames like it’s nothing. I mean, those who know you guys are friends know that it’s platonic, but–”

“Then, why isn’t he doing anything about it?” you snap, crossing your arms. Your sudden outburst shocks everyone in the room—even Heeseung stops eating.

“Y/N-ie, you alright, sweetie?” your mom asks from the kitchen.

“I’ll be fine,” you reply. “Heeseung oppa is bothering me!”

“What are you saying, idiot?” Heeseung hisses. “I’m not bothering you, just tell me whatever is bugging you!”

“I’m upset,” you declare truthfully. “I want to go to hoco with Sunghoon. But he’s not asking me or anything,” you whine, dragging out each word in a dramatically exaggerated manner.

Heeseung snorts, “if you want to go with him, just tell him? It’s not that hard.”

“It is hard! Oppa, imagine telling your childhood best friend: ‘oh, I like you. Can we go to homecoming together?’. That kind of thing completely ruins a friendship! Imagine if he doesn’t like you back? How would you feel?”

Heeseung leans back into his seat, smirking smugly. “I don’t have any girl best friends, so I wouldn’t know.”

“YAH!” you yell, smacking your brother’s head with your spoon. He laughs, clutching his stomach as you sit back down, pouting. “I’m upset and all you’re doing is laugh at my face.”

“Hey, I’m just joking around,” Heeseung reassured, “I get how you feel—even though I kinda don’t.”

Your brother laughs as you huff.

“I think you should go and confront him about it,” Heeseung suggests, going back to devouring his breakfast. “I’m honestly surprised you told me that so straightforwardly, but I guess that’s the result of me sacrificing my ego to get close to you when we were kids.”

You kick his leg under the table, annoyed by the way he’s laughing as you do so. “Shut up. Don’t make me regret having you as my brother.”

“SEE you after school, Y/N-ie,” Heeseung says as you exit the car. He waves to you before driving off. You then make your way towards the entrance gate, only to be greeted by an obviously excited and jumpy Jennie.

“Y/N!” Jennie waves, all smiles. “Come on!”

You jog up to her, who’s standing at your school gate. “Hi. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she replies, but you know her a little too well to accept that as an answer.

“Oh, you think I’m stupid, don’t you?” you elbow her, “you’re a bit too smiley at quarter past seven. Something’s definitely up.”

Jennie giggles, “I’m sorry, I forgot you’ve been my friend since middle school. Now I kind of resent myself for picking Decelis Academy as my study abroad option in 8th grade.”

You hit her shoulder, laughing in synchronisation. “Anyway, Jen, tell me what’s going on. Is Heeseung coming to pick you up after school today or what?”

“Nah, I am,” Jake’s voice coming from your left startles you, making you lose your balance. Yet, Jake is quick to grab your arm, stabilising you.

You turn towards the source of the voice, expecting him to be standing at a reasonable distance beside you. But, oh boy, the goosebumps you get from seeing his face merely inches away from yours…

“Oh?”

Jake smiles. “I’m sorry for startling you,” he says, letting go of your arm gently. “What were we talking about again?”

“Yah, Jaeyun,” Jennie interrupts, smacking her twin brother’s head. “Don’t go around and scare people by whispering right in their ear. It’s creepy, you know?”

Jake laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Anyway, you’re picking Jen up today? What does that mean?” you ask. “Don’t you guys, like, cycle home everyday? Together?”

“Yeah, we do,” Jennie replies, “but today he’s bringing me and you dress-shopping.”

“Me?” you gasp.

“Yep,” Jake nods. “I-I mean, I suggested it to her. You know, since… um, my sister’s going to hoco with your brother, a-and she wants to go dress-shopping… I thought it’d be fitting to bring you too.”

“You can help me pick,” Jennie adds, smiling.

“Sure,” you agree after some thought. After all, going shopping with Jennie is something you enjoy doing, and there’s nothing wrong with her twin brother accompanying the two of you.

Except… that the said twin brother is most likely, according to the current situation, your hoco date.

WALKING out of the chemistry lab, you drag your feet towards the cafeteria. There have been several periods and classes with Sunghoon, yet there hadn’t been any indication that he’d be asking you to go to homecoming with him.

“So,” Jennie begins, as soon as you set down your tray. She waits for you to sit down before uttering, “are you going to homecoming?”

“I think so,” you say, shrugging. “I mean, I thought about it, and it’s my senior year. I should go to homecoming.”

Naeun and Jennie shriek happily.

“Oh my God! My wish came true!” Jennie clasped her hands together.

“We can finally take a trio polaroid together. Complete. As one,” Naeun says.

“Gosh, stop over–”

“What wish?” you get interrupted, once again, by the one and only: Park Sunghoon. He nods to acknowledge Jennie and Naeun in front of you, before sitting down next to you.

“Nothing,” you immediately reply. You shift awkwardly in your seat, uncomfortable by the way your cheeks are warming up.

How on earth did you actually survive being Sunghoon’s best friend for almost 10 years whilst having a crush on him?

Maybe having a crush on him for 5 years has taught you the skill of burying your feelings whenever he was around.

“I’ve known you for 10 years,” Sunghoon says. His left cheek bulges as he chews on his mouthful of cold noodles. “And if I learned a thing or two, it is to never trust you when you say ‘nothing’.”

“Exactly!” Naeun exclaims. “Sunghoon, you tell her to stop using the same excuse every time, it’s so obvious when she’s lying.”

“Oh, shut up, Nae.”

Sunghoon rips open the package of his chocolate bar and breaks it in half. “Here,” he places it on your tray. “You like cookies and cream.”

You bit your lip in hopes to suppress a smile. “Thanks,” you say coolly, taking a bite out of it.

“Anyway,” Naeun grins, a glint of mischief in her eyes. You glare at her, already dreading what’s to come. “Got anyone to go to homecoming with, Park Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon leans back in his chair, stealing a glance at you. “No. I don’t want to go.”

You almost spit out the contents of your mouth at his blunt statement. “What? Why?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “I’ve got no one to go with?”

“Well, you can go with me if you want to,” you murmur, afraid to raise your voice.

“What?” Sunghoon tilts his head, eyes staring into yours. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing!” you quickly say, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I-I’m going though.”

It’s now Sunghoon’s turn to be confused. “Huh? I thought you weren’t going.”

“Yeah! I-I wasn’t going to… but Jaeyun asked me… to go with him,” you utter each word with complete caution, eyes going back and forth between Jennie and Sunghoon. “And I’m… going with him.”

The world pauses for a second, and you don’t realise you’re holding back a breath.

Jennie gasps, happiness causing her to beam. But at the same time, you couldn’t shrug off the pang in your heart when you witnessed, from the corner of your eyes, Sunghoon’s expression morph into something you’ve quite never seen before.

Was it jealousy?

“Double date!” Jennie gushes, her eyes crinkling with laughter. “God, I’m so happy! I can finally go to homecoming with my best friend!”

You give Jennie a half smile.

“...have you told him?” Sunghoon asks, somehow struggling to force the words out of his mouth.

“Who?” you reply, turning to him.

“Jake.”

You purse your lips, then shake your head. “Nope. I’ll tell him after school, though.”

Sunghoon nods, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than it usually does. Then, he turns to his lunch and finishes it in silence, ignoring the conversation buzzing around him.

AFTER the last lesson of the day ends, and the teacher walks out, you get ready with the books and stationery you need for studying.

“Let’s go?” Jake taps your shoulder, smiling widely as always. You perk up, a question popping in your head. Does he ever get tired of smiling?

Seeing him twinkle, you’re instantly reminded of the plan you made with the twins.

“Oh, okay!” you reply, quickly standing up to start packing up your bag. “Wait for me at Jennie’s homeroom.”

“Alright. I’ll see you there.” Jake nods, and struts out, which leaves you realising that it’s only you and the ridiculously good-looking boy sitting in front of you, Sunghoon, left in the homeroom.

“Where did the others go?” you mutter to yourself, grunting at how your cheeks are starting to warm up.

“Where are you going?” Sunghoon asks, his tone careful and slow. You look up, and he’s already staring at you, something in his gaze that you can’t pinpoint.

You swing your bag over your shoulder. You give him an innocent smile. “I’m… going dress-shopping.”

“With Jake?” he asks.

You nod slowly.

“Y-yeah. And Jennie.”

“Have you told him you’re going to hoco with him?”

You sigh. “No, I haven’t. I’m a bit embarrassed to… tell him.”

Silence floods the two of you. Though, this time, the silence was overwhelmingly uncomfortable. There was some kind of tension that hung between you and Sunghoon, and you know precisely what caused it.

“Hmm,” is all you get from your best friend after a few moments of awkwardness, that involves you standing straight near your desk, unable to move as you await his response.

“Do you like him?” Sunghoon asks, standing up from his chair. His height towers above you, and you gulp in nervousness.

“No?” you say, “I don’t. Wait, I mean, I-I do. But I like him as a friend.”

“Like how you like me?”

Your eyes widen as if a nuclear bomb was dropped in front of your face.

“L-like what?”

Sunghoon chuckles, ruffling your hair. “I’m joking, pumpkin.”

Memories flood your vision, goosebumps racing against your skin, upon hearing the childhood nickname; vivid like it happened yesterday.

You clearly remember your six-year-old self, sitting at his house’s dining table with a seven-year-old Sunghoon. The two of you were having lunch together after his mom picked you two from preschool.

You always had a strong dislike for pumpkin, and everyone around you knew that, but Sunghoon didn’t.

So when his mother asked what the both of you wanted for lunch, Sunghoon had eagerly requested for the porridge—and you innocently agreed, not knowing that the porridge he ardently asked for was pumpkin porridge with rice balls.

Sunghoon held his stomach, laughing loudly. “You look so funny, Y/N, it’s just pumpkin!”

“Shut up!” you yelled. “I just don’t like the taste!”

“Oh dear,” Sunghoon’s mother rushed to you. She picked up the bowl of pumpkin porridge in front of you. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t know—would you like something else?

“It’s okay, auntie!” you insisted on a small voice. “I’ll just eat the rice balls.”

Sunghoon laughed his soul out in the background, still finding your revolted expression upon eating the pumpkin porridge extremely funny. His mother shook her head, patting your head.

“You sweet girl—it’s alright. I’ll cook you something else, okay? Do seafood pancakes sound delicious to you?”

You give her a big smile, nodding. “I’ll love that!”

And for the rest of that year, Sunghoon insisted that he called you pumpkin.

“Gosh,” you whisper shakily, “I haven’t heard that nickname in a while.”

Sunghoon smiles—and it’s as if, in this entire universe, it’s only you and him. It’s an unexplainable feeling; it’s as if time had stopped, and everything else around you froze—and he’s the only one for you.

“Hmm? I thought I’d call you pumpkin,” he jokes, “since, you know, your face looks as orange as the porridge that day.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, “it’s been so long! Don’t remind me of that!”

Sunghoon lets out a train of laughter—and it rushes through you like a refreshing breeze, reminding you of your never ending feelings for him, and how his laughter is one of the things you’d never get tired of hearing.

“Come on then,” he urges you to walk out of the class. “We have a dress to find.”

You follow his lead, your brows knitting with each other. “Huh?”

Sunghoon looks back at you for a second, smiling while he’s at it.

“I’m coming with you to buy your hoco dress. I mean, I’m sure your mother wouldn’t get mad at you if you’re going out with me,” he says, as your legs freeze, unable to move. You’re dazed at Sunghoon’s presence. Everytime he smiles at you, you’re smitten—and it’s as if your entire body is in love too.

“I’ll pick your dress for you if you don’t come! I’ll pick the most horrible one!” Sunghoon yells playfully from the corridor, causing you to jolt awake from your trance. “And I’ll tell Mrs. Lee, you’re going out without asking her first!”

“YAH!” you scream, swiftly dodging tables and running out of the classroom to catch up with Sunghoon. “Wait for me, Park Sunghoon!”

“HERE,” Jake hands you a cup of mango yakult boba, accompanied with a smile that you wish you didn’t notice was a little bitter. It must’ve been because Sunghoon’s here, standing beside you.

You sigh, recalling that Jennie had whispered about it to you when you were in the bus.

“What?” you ask him.

“Take it,” he insists. “It’s on me, so don’t worry.”

You nod thankfully before poking the straw into the cover of the drink to take a sip. Though, before your lips could even touch the tip of the straw, Sunghoon gets himself a big sip of your drink. Bewildered and stunned, all you could do is watch and let your lips form a twitchy smile as Sunghoon perks up from an angle slightly lower than your eye level.

You gulp, suddenly nervous at the close proximity.

“This is good stuff,” he says with a grin.

Your eyes shift quickly between Jake, who’s standing right in front of you, shock painted all over his facial expressions; and Sunghoon, who’s standing to your right, grinning like he’s just scored the winning goal for the inter school hockey competition.

“Hoon!” you smack his arm, “this is my drink—you didn’t even ask!”

Sunghoon keeps his grin on. “I mean, you wouldn’t even finish it,” he shrugs. “Plus, you prefer strawberry flavoured things over mango, right?”

You watch with guilt as Jake’s facial expressions morph into a shameful expression. He lets out an “oh”, and he looks away.

“It’s okay, Jaeyun,” you say, offering him a smile, which makes him rebuild eye contact. “It’s not that I don’t like mango. I do! Just that I prefer strawberries.”

Jake nods attentively. “Ah, okay. I’m sorry—I’ll remember that from now on.”

“Okay, guys! Enough of this awkwardness,” Jennie says out loud, looping her arm with yours. “We’ve only got a few hours to shop for Y/N and I’s dresses, so get your asses up and moving, boys.”

The four of you then walk through the mall, window shopping to find your dresses. Jennie, of course, is the most excited. She practically drags you and Jake around, Sunghoon tagging along.

You naturally enjoy the experience of shopping with your girlfriend. It’s certainly a refresher—sipping on your boba drink as you browse through a wide selection of eye-catching dresses. Though, every time you look to steal a glance at Sunghoon, there’s this off-putting feeling that you can’t quite name—and the reason as to why is evident, displayed right in front of your eyes.

Every time you make eye contact with Sunghoon, you notice a challenging aura blazing through. It’s as if he’s purposely making it hard for Jake; as if to dare him to prove that he’ll be a good date to you.

Honestly, you think to yourself, it’s just one night. It’s not like I’m dating Jake for real.

And you wonder too, why Sunghoon is making such a big deal out of it.

Even though all of you are shopping for homecoming at the last minute, everything’s certainly going well.

“Heeseung’s going to bawl his eyes out when he sees you in this dress,” you say with a sparkle of melodrama. Jake chuckles, while Sunghoon simply nods disinterestedly, his eyes glued to his phone.

You marvel at how beautiful Jennie is—her beauty is enhanced with the purple dress she’s wearing. It’s exactly her vibe—a lilac baby doll dress with ruffles and puffed sleeves—soft and dainty.

“Buy this one,” Jake says.

“Okay!” Jennie happily nods. “What about you, Y/N?”

You’ve tried on several types of dresses in many different colours—jade, champagne red, and light pink. Though, none of them thoroughly suited your taste.

“Jaeyun,” you say, causing the boy to perk up and look at you with slightly widened eyes—not expecting his name to be called. “What do you think?”

“M-me?”

You smile and nod, ignoring Sunghoon’s piercing gaze. “Yeah, you.”

“I-I mean, I don’t know,” Jake stammers, “why are you buying a dress though? I thought you weren’t going to hoco.”

“Well…”

“You stupid idiot, she’s going with you!” you hear Jennie shout from inside the changing room.

You don’t know why, but some feelings of delight wash through you as you watch Jake’s lips form a wide smile. He laughs, awkward and strained at first, like he doesn’t believe it’s true. Though, gradually, he gets up and pulls you into a hug.

“Thank you,” he murmurs breathlessly into your shoulder as you pat his back. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Jake pulls away from the hug, and for the first time, you see tears form at the edges of the basketball prodigy.

And, for the first time too, you see Sunghoon looking away from you.

“Jen!” you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down as much as possible. You and Jennie are in the changing room, the latter helping you to put on dresses. Out of all the dresses you tried—the light blue ball gown dress, the lavender mini dress with bow details, and many other bodycon and babydoll dresses—none caught your eye.

Except for one.

A simple midnight blue dress, adorned with pearl details and sparkly lace; one that Sunghoon picked out. At first, you weren’t sure if it’d suit you, but after trying it on, you were baffled by how you look. The dress fits you perfectly, highlighting exactly where it needs to be.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask, pulling your hair out of your dress.

Jennie nods, an adoring look on her face. “Girl, everyone will be smitten.”

Of course, you didn’t believe her at first—but the look on Sunghoon and Jake’s faces made you second guess yourself.

Sunghoon’s eyes stop blinking, and his lips part slightly. Something feels stuck in his throat, and everything dawns on him.

You look absolutely magical.

He can’t pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. You are his best friend, the person he feels most comfortable with. And now, it hits him like a truck.

You’re breathtaking.

To his left, Jake is completely blown away by your beauty. The edges of his mouth twitch, indecisive as to whether he should smile or not. His pupils widen as he takes in the view of you, realising that you really are more prettier than he thought you were.

“So,” you finally say, pretending to not notice the two guys’ gazes on you. You smile at Jake, not forgetting to spare Sunghoon a glance. “How’s this?”

You twirl in front of the mirror, examining how the dress hugs your frame. “I don’t know,” you murmur. “Does this look weird?”

Jake leans forward from his seat, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Weird? Y/N, if you show up to homecoming in that, I might have to fight people off for you.”

His direct response makes your eyes widen and a snort escaping your lips. Jennie, who’s standing next to her brother, merely grins.

You swat at Jake. “Be serious, Jaeyun.”

“I am,” Jake winks smoothly. “You look gorgeous.”

A wave of heat rushes up your cheeks—the way Jake looked directly in your eyes, the word gorgeous slipping out of his tongue like it’s easy for him to say. You look away, redirecting your gaze to Sunghoon, slightly overwhelmed by the way Jake’s smile seems to tell you that he means everything he said.

Sunghoon, who had been sitting silently in the corner, shifts in his seat. He doesn’t say anything, but his jaw flexes. He simply looks at Jake, then at you, before looking away.

You press your lips into a thin line.

Something in Sunghoon’s behavior bothers you.

You turn back to the mirror, smoothing the fabric of the dress with your hands. “Hoon,” you say, looking at him from the reflection of the mirror. “What do you think?”

His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and something unreadable flickers across his face. He holds his gaze for a second before turning to his phone.

“It’s fine,” he mutters, loud enough for you to catch.

You frown, glancing at Jennie, who’s wearing a bewildered expression on her face.

“Fine?” you ask.

Jake scoffs, putting down his drink that he’s been sipping on. “Dude, that’s all you got? She looks stunning, and all you gotta say is ‘fine’?”

You bite your lower lip, watching as Sunghoon grits his teeth. The grip on his phone tightens. “I said it looks fine,” he repeats, sharper this time. “I mean, you look great, I guess.”

A pause.

You gulp, exhaling shakily.

“Okay…” you say, dragging the word out as you turn back to the mirror. You sigh.

Why are you feeling this way—defeated, disappointed, and angry, even? Sunghoon is just your best friend, and you’ve been friends since you were in first grade. He’s not your boyfriend, nor do you think he’ll ever be—so why are you so upset?

Jennie walks up to you, squeezing your shoulders in some kind of solace. She smiles. “Let’s go check out other dresses—or do you want to buy this one?”

You glance at Sunghoon.

“Let’s buy this one?”

You and Jennie giggle before turning to the shop employee to discuss further about your dresses. After you turn away, Jake sighs.

He looks at Sunghoon, leaning in. He drops his voice so only Sunghoon can hear. “You know, if you wanted to compliment her first,” he says, his words stinging. “You should’ve spoken up.”

Sunghoon stares at his phone stoically, not reacting at first, but his fingers begin to curl against his knee. He does not say anything, and the tension stays in the air, unsettled between them.

You jog back towards them a few minutes later, happily smiling at the purchase. The feeling that stings your heart when you look at Sunghoon still lingers, but you’re too jolly about the beautiful dress that’s now yours to don.

Jake sits up straight, his smile mirroring your beam. He watches you and Jennie animatedly gush about your dresses intently, contrasting with the way Sunghoon is quietly staring at you, pretending like he’s not interested.

At the end of the day, Jake was the one you playfully swatted, the one listening intently to every word you say—and Sunghoon was the one you looked at, waiting.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Sunghoon, Thank you for picking out the dress for me. I think I like it a lot. Obviously because it’s not what you picked out but anyway! I’m nervous. Not because I like Jaeyun or anything. It’s just the general homecoming thing. You know, the surroundings and the partying… I hope I can handle it. I’ve got nothing against Jaeyun, he’s very sweet and kind, but I do still wish you’re my date instead. Why didn’t you ask me to be your homecoming date, Hoon? Did you know how desperately I have been waiting? Did you know how guilty I felt to be brushing off Jaeyun every single time he asked me to go to hoco with him? Look at me now. I’m his date for tomorrow. Hoon, I wish I had the courage to tell you. I wish I was brave enough to tell you that I like you, and that I don’t care if it ruins our lifelong friendship. I wish I was fearless enough to ask you to homecoming. I wish I was better. I don’t know if I’m good enough for you, but if you ever need a girlfriend, or a wife one day… I’m here. Always. Sent 23:00 PM, 3rd April.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Sunghoon, It’s homecoming. Jaeyun’s going to come and pick me up soon—in like half an hour. I got the girls over, to help with makeup and all. I feel gorgeous, Hoon, but I wonder if you think so too. I wish the person who’d come and pick me up to go to homecoming today was you. I really want to see you in a suit—oh God, I know just how good you’ll look. Honestly, even in a hoodie and sweatpants, you look stunning. Sent 17:35 PM, 4th April.

“Y/N! Sweetie, Jake’s here!” you hear your mom call from downstairs.

“Coming!” you shout back, shoving a lipgloss and a pack of tissues into your purse before rushing downstairs.

The sound of your feet thudding against the stairs causes Jake to turn around, and his eyes immediately widen.

His eyes sparkle as they gaze on you, and he looks as if he’s never seen someone as beautiful as you. He stands respectfully by the stairway, giving you a polite smile.

“Hi,” you greet Jake, leaning into his side hug. Jake is smartly fitted into a neat suit with tie, and a corsage is tucked perfectly into the pocket of his chest. He hands you a matching one.

“Do… you want to wear this?”

You make eye contact with Heeseung, who’s standing by the door with Jennie. He nods, and you turn to Jake. “Sure.”

He fastens the corsage around your wrist, his touch gentle and careful. “Is it okay? If i-it’s too tight or anything,” Jake says, “tell me.”

You pat his shoulder. “It’s fine, I’m good. Thank you, Jaeyun.”

Heeseung drives all of you to the conference hall of Decelis Academy, where the homecoming will be held. Upon arrival, Jake opens the door of the car and helps you out.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed hearing the faint music coming from inside the hall, you turn to Jake. “So,” you say, slowing down your walking pace. “What do we usually do at hoco?”

“Hmm, there’s a concert by our school band—you know Jay? He used to be the lead guitarist,” Jake explains. “His girlfriend, Han Jihyeon, is the main singer. They’re sickeningly cute, in my opinion.”

You chuckle and nod along, recalling several moments where you’ve seen the couple interact with each other at school last year.

“There’s also plenty of games,” continues Jake. The two of you walk together into the hall, and as you reach the door, he opens it for you. “Oh, and you don’t have to dance if you don’t want to, you know.”

You nod, bracing yourself for a chaotic night.

After taking pictures with Jake, Jennie, Naeun, and Heeseung, you find yourself retreating to the refreshments section of the conference hall. Jake left to play games and dance with his friends, as well as reconnect with his old buddies who have graduated. At first, he felt guilty to leave you alone, but you insisted he go enjoy himself so much that he gave in.

You bring out your phone and adjust your hair, which your mom had put in a half updo adorned with a sparkly white ribbon. Your makeup tonight is bedazzling too, and you admit, for once, it made you feel more beautiful than ever before. Kudos to Jennie and Naeun for being your makeup artist.

“Y/N!” you hear Jake call for you. You look towards his direction, seeing him quickly approaching you.

“Yeah?” you answer, fidgeting with the empty plastic cup in your hand.

“Do you want to come and play some games?” he asks. He grins confidently, but he quickly adds a stammering, “I mean, i-if you want to.”

“Honestly, I don’t really want to,” you reply, “but since we’re already here, why not?”

You watch as Jake’s uptight and polite expression transforms into a bright smile. “Okay!” he beams, grabbing your arm. “Let’s go!”

You don’t know if it’s Jake’s luminous grin or if it’s the games that are fun, but you enjoyed almost every minute of the games you played. You found yourself laughing amongst Jake and his friends, and found them to actually be decently nice. You too found yourself sharing many greasy yet fulfilling snacks with Jake, bonding over random things such as physics, iconic movies and so on.

When the time to go home comes around, Jake escorts you to Heeseung’s car and waits until your brother comes.

“Thanks,” he murmurs as you lean slightly against the car, “I had a really good time tonight.”

You give Jake a smile. “Of course,” you pat his shoulder. “I also enjoyed tonight a lot, surprisingly. Thanks for asking me out.”

Jake laughs shyly, the corner of his eyes crinkling along. He rubs the back of his neck. “Y-yeah! You’re welcome… and you know, I think we should hang out sometime?”

“With Hoon?” you inquire—immediately regretting it after, realising the meaning behind his words.

“Um–” Jake lets out an awkward chuckle. “Sure, alright.”

He smiles, more genuine and confident this time. “But I’d like it if it was just the two of us.”

The breeze blows, and you realise that you’re wearing something so revealing on an early spring night. You push your hair out of your face and rub your bare shoulders with your hands, in an attempt to warm yourself up. “It’s really cold tonight,” you laugh.

“Oh, yeah,” Jake agrees, swiftly removing his suit jacket and placing it on your shoulder. He stands right in front of you—and you notice, then, how tall he is—and adjusts the placement of his jacket on you. “Is it better now?”

The scent of honey, cinnamon, and freshly baked apple pies mixed with a faint touch of expensive cologne attacks your senses. You pull Jake’s suit jacket closer to your body, attempting to combat the cold winds. “Yep! Thank you so much, Jaeyun.”

“Jake!” you hear Heeseung call from a distance, interrupting something Jake was about to say. Your brother—accompanied by Jennie—quickly approaches the two of you, giving Jake a brief handshake. “Thanks for waiting with Y/N.”

Jake places a hand on his chest before nodding slightly. “Of course. The pleasure’s all mine.”

“Thanks for coming to homecoming with my twin brother, Y/N-ie,” Jennie says, giving you a hug. “We finally get to take pictures together. I’ll send them all to you, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, mirroring Jennie’s smile. “I’ll see you later, Jen.”

“See you!” she exclaims before linking arms with Jake. “Come on, my feet hurt from all the dancing.”

You watch with a huge smile as the twins walk away to their ride.

Jake rolls his eyes. “Who told you to wear heels?”

Jennie simply gave her twin brother an annoyed look. “Shut up. Beauty is pain.”

“Anyway, we have to go now,” Heeseung says, pulling your attention back to him.

“Mom will kill me if I don’t get you home before midnight,” he continues, nudging you with his elbow. He opens the car door, signalling for you to get in. “Come on.”

“Bye, Jaeyun, Jen!” you say as you get into the car.

Jake sends you a soft smile along with a nod. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“WHAT the hell,” you breathe shakily.

First, you forgot to return Jake’s suit jacket to him before he left.

Secondly, you’re barely done with your nighttime after-shower routine when you hear knocks on your window.

Quickly wiping your hair dry with a towel, you rush to your window, the damp towel still in hand. You push the curtains open, only to be greeted with a vision of Sunghoon, leaning against the glass with a grin on his face. Your eyes widen with shock.

“Park Sunghoon!” you exclaim hushedly, immediately opening the window to let him in.

“Thanks,” he grumbles, effortlessly climbing into your room. He lands with a soft thud, and he stands patiently, waiting for you to close the window.

“God, you gave me a heart attack,” you say. “What are you doing here? It’s cold outside, you know? How did you even manage to climb up here?”

“Eat,” he replies, instead of answering your questions. Sunghoon then hands you a plastic bag filled with goodies—and you perfectly know what’s inside.

“What’s this?” you ask nevertheless, grabbing the plastic bag.

Before you could even open the plastic bag, Sunghoon excellently answers, “Pocari Sweat, cream cheese with salmon kimbap and ice cream.”

A wide grin immediately emerges on your face, much to Sunghoon’s satisfaction. “Oh my god!” you exclaim, sitting down on the heated floor. “I’ve been craving this.”

“You always do, especially after a long night,” Sunghoon murmurs, more like to himself, as he sits down across you, leaning against the wall.

Unnoticed by you, Sunghoon stays silent as he watches you eat heartily; your facial features highlighted by the warm light of your bedside table.

Something caresses his heart. Some kind of feeling… It makes him feel full and content.

“Switch on the lights, I swear to God,” Sunghoon sighs.

“No,” you shake your head, cheeks filled with kimbap. “My parents are going to think I’m still awake. Plus, this kind of ambiance makes me sleepy.”

“And?” Sunghoon raises a brow, amused. “Do you want to eat while sleeping?”

“No!” you insist, swallowing a big bite of kimbap. “I want to make myself sleepy so that I can sleep as early as possible.”

Sunghoon snorts. “It’s 12 o’clock, Y/N. What kind of ‘early’ are you talking about?”

He laughs cheerfully—still keeping a low volume—as he dodges a pillow from you.

“I mean,” you defend yourself, mouth still full of food. “At least it’s earlier than 5 o’clock.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, laughter still lingering around him. “Whatever you say, princess.”

Princess.

A nickname that rolls off Sunghoon’s tongue so comfortably. It’s an old habit—stemming from an incident that happened when the two of you were kids; where Sunghoon had deliberately called you ‘princess’ just to annoy you, knowing that as a seven-year-old, you wanted to be a dragon warrior when you grew up, not a princess.

Though, the same nickname used by Sunghoon for years to no end still gives you plenty of butterflies and heart-fluttering moments. By logic, you should’ve gotten used to it by now, considering the absurd amount of times he called you by that.

The two of you sit facing each other, faces lit by the dim light of your mushroom shaped lamp. You and Sunghoon sit in pure silence, the sounds of breathing and occasional satisfactory humming coming from you due to the food filling the atmosphere.

Sunghoon looks at you attentively—the way you melt into every bite of food that you enjoy; the way that you sit cross-legged in front of him, vulnerable and authentic. It’s just you and him—the pure and bare you; your face naked with no makeup on, your shoulder-length hair let loose, the bangs framing your face perfectly as it should.

“Goodness, I’m so tired,” you groan, laying down on the floor with an almost finished ice cream in your hand.

Sunghoon scoffs, adjusting his lean against the wall. “You’re going to choke on that ice cream.”

You throw him a glare. “Shut up.”

Sunghoon merely chuckles, shaking his head.

“So, Y/N,” Sunghoon says after a moment of unbroken eye contact, caused by him intently watching you try to eat ice cream while laying down. “How was it?”

You immediately sit down. “Hoco?”

Sunghoon nods. “Yeah. Was it fun, with Jake?”

“It was okay. I unexpectedly enjoyed it more than I wanted to,” you reply, finishing your ice cream. “I do think I prefer night-ins to binge watch dramas or movies—like To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, or Emily In Paris—don’t you think?”

Sunghoon smiles briefly. He nods, “movies are more of your thing, I think.”

“Anyway, I’m glad I went,” you continue, “I’m in my senior year—we’re in our senior year, and we won’t get to experience something like this anymore. It’s actually fun!”

Sunghoon sighs as he shrugs. “Homecoming’s not my thing. I thought… I thought it wasn’t yours either.”

You look at him, staring at his features a minute longer. “I-I mean, it still isn’t. I just went because Jennie and Naeun insisted I go.”

“And because Jake did too?”

“Oh, um,” you stammer, “not really. I-I mean, I’ve been shrugging him off for a while now. I even rejected him for prom last year, remember?”

You swear you saw Sunghoon smirk for a split second. He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m surprised someone even asked you out.”

“Why?” you roll your eyes. “You think I’m not pretty enough?”

“You are.”

“What–”

“You’re too pretty, people are afraid to ask you out.”

Silence.

You stare at Sunghoon, your childhood best friend, with widened eyes. He looks back at you, firmly connecting the eye contact with some kind of determination and genuineness you’ve never quite seen before.

It took a while for you to finally form a response.

“Oh. Um..”

Sunghoon stands up. “Well, then, sleep well. I have to go now.”

“S-so soon?” you blurt out, flabbergasted.

Sunghoon smiles softly. “I have practice tomorrow. Come watch.”

“Of course, I always do,” you nod eagerly. You didn’t know when it all started, but for as long as you remember, Sunghoon and you had always been each other’s biggest supporters. You never really missed any of his hockey matches and most of his practices; and he never truly missed any of your music recitals too.

Your cheeks blush at the thought, and all you could do is gawk at Sunghoon as he ruffles your hair.

“See you later, princess,” he says, pushing your window open. “Sweet dreams.”

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Hoon! I’m so excited! A four-day school trip is really what I needed—just spending time with friends with no worry of anything at all… it must be fun. I hope it’s going to be just like how it is in the dramas; where all we do is play games, maybe sort out treasure hunts and eat delicious food all day. I heard the fee’s going to be quite a lot, so I really do hope the activities are worth attending for. Also, I think I need to restock on sunscreen and some other stuff. I want to ask Heeseung to take me to Olive Young, but if I’m not mistaken he has a resume to work on and my mom’s not letting him go out until he gets that done. So… Okay, I’ll just text you if you want to go. Hope you do, and hope you won’t think it’s weird or anything! Sent 11:09 AM, 8th April.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Hoon! Tomorrow is the trip! Ahhh, I’m so excited! I don’t know why I’m very excited for this year’s trip when I went on one last year—maybe it’s the fact that I’ll be spending it with you, for the last time; maybe it’s the fact that I know I’m going to treasure every single moment of this 4-day trip… I don’t know for sure. This year, we’re going to Gyeongju! I’ve only been there once, with my grandmother in second grade’s winter break, and I loved it there. I’m sure you’ll like it too. Hoon, thank you for being my friend. You’re such a miracle, a gift to humankind. Also, stop treating me so kindly? It’s… making me delusional. Sent 20:13 PM, 8th April.

From the beginning, the senior’s trip is already fun—but the first activity requires something that you somehow dread. The teachers that came along organised a scavenger hunt at the villa that your batch was staying at—and, of course, you’re paired up with Sunghoon for it.

The tasks were simple but a little tedious, obviously requiring two people. You breezed through them fairly well, but it doesn’t quite help that you’re constantly biting back a smile, remembering how you slept on his shoulder the entire bus ride there.

It also doesn’t quite help that Sunghoon is smiling at you every time you finish a task, looking at you with all of his attention when you’re talking about the next clue.

You and Sunghoon finished second place, which was not too bad—you were a bit bummed out, considering that the team that finished first was just a few seconds faster than you and Sunghoon. But you weren’t given too much time to dwell on that, because as soon as the scavenger hunt wrapped up, it was time for your tour of Gyeongju.

And, of course, a classic from the dramas had to happen to you.

You were taking pictures with Jennie and Naeun at the Bulguksa Temple, all giddy and happy due to how pretty it is.

Then, all of a sudden, it starts pouring.

Everyone runs for cover, and you’re a bit too slow to catch up with your friends. You try your best to run, eyes squinting as the rain pours down. Suddenly, you’re pulled to your side. You gasp, widening your eyes as you realise that it’s Sunghoon. He pulls you under his jacket, his arms holding it up for the two of you. You hold your breath in, realising how close your face is to his—your nose is barely brushing his.

He guides you to a hut nearby, where some students are gathered. You gulp—face hot despite the rain bringing stinging cold against your skin.

“Didn’t know you care so much,” you joke, laughing breathlessly as you attempt to lighten the tension in your shoulders.

Sunghoon looks at you, holding his gaze for some time. Something difficult to interpret flashes through his eyes for a second.

“You have no idea,” he mutters before gently pushing you under the roof.

You watch him, heart thumping loudly against your chest, as he ties his now wet hoodie around his waist, avoiding eye contact.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Park Sunghoon, What’s going on with my heart? Why does it accelerate so quickly when you’re around? Why does it feel like it’s going to jump out of my chest every single time you hold my hand? Oh my God. I think I’m going insane. I can still smell your cologne in the air. What did you do that for, Sunghoon? I mean, I know it was raining hard and you know I get cold easily… but couldn’t you have just given me your hoodie or something? Anyway, Bulguksa Temple is pretty, isn’t it? Oh my, I’m going to write more when we get home. I can’t really type with my friends around… it’s weird. Also, I have to go get some medication because I think I’m sick from the rain. Sent 21:00 PM, 9th April.

“I swear to God, this is so annoying,” you mutter under your breath as you grab onto a light pole for support. You’ve been sneezing non stop for the past hour, and now you’re on the way to the pharmacy near your hotel to get some medicine. Though, it’s really hard and troublesome for you to walk there with constant sneezing and a throbbing headache.

The autumn night wind blows, and you immediately regret wearing a thin cardigan out.

Why aren’t hoodies in my reach whenever you need them?

“Y/N!” you hear someone yell your name, footsteps approaching from behind.

You turn around, surprised to see Jake sprinting towards you. He arrives in a matter of seconds, panting as he catches his breath.

“Jake?”

“Call me Jaeyun, I said,” he recalls in the midst of his heavy gasps for air.

“Okay, fine,” you huff, “why are you here, anyway?”

“You’re sick,” Jake says, standing up straight. “Our rooms are two rooms away from each other and I can hear you sneeze all the time. Your nose is red too.”

“Oh,” you purse your lips. “Y-yeah.”

“You’re wearing something so thin too, aigoo,” Jake sighs. He promptly takes off his hoodie, leaving him bare with a white t-shirt underneath. He smoothens the hoodie out and hands it to a flabbergasted you. “Wear this. It’s not too chilly out, but you’re sick so you have to keep warm.”

“Oh,” is all you manage. You then wear Jake’s hoodie as instructed, and the scent of honey and cinnamon engulfs you again. “Thanks. I-I feel a lot warmer now.”

“Good to know,” he says, smiling delicately. “Then let’s go and get you some medicine. We still have two days of the trip, and tomorrow we’re going to Cheomseongdae Observatory. I’m sure you wouldn’t wanna miss it.”

You nod, returning his smile. “Okay then, let’s go.”

Your plan to quickly grab medicine and run back to the hotel as you promised your teacher is completely wrecked. Now, you stand behind Jake at the cashier counter as he pays for your painkillers.

“Done,” he says, smiling again. He lifts the bag of medicine to his face and shakes it gently. “Look.”

The thought of doesn’t he get tired of smiling? rushes into your head as you nod. You reach out your hand to take the plastic bag away from him, but he pulls his hand away at the right moment.

“What?”

“Let me hold it,” he says. Then, he wraps his left arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the pharmacy. “Let’s go eat some ramen?”

“N-now?” you ask him.

Jake nods enthusiastically. “Mhm, now. You have to eat before you take paracetamol.”

Seeing that he’s actually guiding you to the convenience store a few blocks away, you try to stop him—though he’s a little too strong for you.

“Jaeyun, you don’t need to eat before taking paracetamol,” you address.

Jake chuckles. “My mom always told me to eat something warm before,” he answers, “I know you don’t have to, but it makes you feel good. So, why not?”

Maybe it’s Jake’s smile that’s so bright it convinces you to sit down at the convenience store, slurping away instant noodles with him beside you.

“So good,” you groan, melting into every gulp of the noodles.

Jake grins. “Told ya.”

“Does it make you feel better?”

You nod, smiling wide. “It does! I mean, I don’t think it can beat my mom’s chicken soup, but this will do.”

Jake laughs, casting a warm atmosphere around the two of you. He throws his head back, and his smile is so big and cheerful it makes you giggle too. “Sorry I couldn’t bring you your mom’s chicken soup, or at least an authentic one. I can’t get caught venturing further than this.”

You chuckle. “It’s alright. I’m grateful enough that you bought me both my medicine and my food.”

Jake smiles, yet again, at you. “My pleasure.”

“So, Y/N, I heard you play violin,” Jake says after silently watching you finish your cup of noodles.

“Yeah,” you confirm, cleaning up your things. “I do. Why?”

“Nothing,” Jake replies, “I’m not really into instruments, but my mom and dad used to make me go to piano lessons when I was in elementary school.”

“Lucky,” you giggle, nudging his shoulder. “I wanted to learn piano too, but my dad told me it’d be better to learn violin. I don’t know why, but I guess he wanted me to learn violin because Heeseung oppa was learning piano. Call it ‘variety’,” you laugh.

Jake chuckles along.

“So, you know how to play piano, then?” you ask him.

Jake immediately shakes his head. He raises his hands to his chest in defeat. “A big no! I don’t remember most of it, and I’ve gotten so rusty. I quit piano lessons as soon as middle school started—I got myself busy with basketball so my mom couldn’t bother me.”

You snorted in an attempt to hold in your monstrous laughter. “You’re so petty.”

Jake chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. “Y-yeah, I can be.”

“Y/N!” Sunghoon exclaims loudly as he rushes to you. You had just returned with Jake, and you’re about to get into the lift to go back to your room—when suddenly, Sunghoon emerges and hugs you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away to examine you. In fact, he pulls away too fast you didn’t even get to feel the warmth of his embrace. “You’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me? Was it because of the rain?”

As if it’s on cue, you sneeze. “Yeah, I guess. Don’t worry though! Jaeyun got me some medicine, so I should be fine.”

“Jake?” Sunghoon inquires, and he finally notices Jake, who’s standing behind you the whole time.

Jake shrugs, showing Sunghoon the plastic bag filled with medicine that he’s holding. “I was about to ask where you were. How could you not know that Y/N’s sick?”

“Okay, I’m not that sick, Jaeyun,” you retort.

Jake narrows his eyes at you. “Mhm. I’ll believe you, Y/N. If I didn’t catch you halfway, you’d be hit by a car with all the sneezing you’re doing.”

“But–”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon scoffs. He sharply snatches the bag of medicine from Jake’s hand. “C’mon, Y/N, I’ll bring you upstairs.”

“Hey–”

Sunghoon grabs your hand and drags you away, leaving no chance for either Jake or you to say a word. He stays silent, and you do too, throughout the five minutes it took the two of you to get to Room 92.

“Wh-why are we in front of your room?” you ask, panic starting to seep in. You had memorised his room number from the list your teacher had given out to everyone before the trip. “My room’s 99, not this one…”

“I know,” he says, letting go of your hand as he unlocks the door. “Get in.”

You nod, fiddling with the edges of Jake’s hoodie that you’re wearing. “Where’s your roommate?”

“I told Kangmin to crash at Minseo’s room,” Sunghoon replies offhandedly, closing the door shut. He then changes the light intensity of the lamps, making it a comfortable ambiance for you to be in with such a throbbing headache.

“Why?” you ask, feeling a little awkward.

“Well,” Sunghoon replies, pausing to look at you for a while. He continues like it’s the most obvious thing ever, “I didn’t want your roommates to be uncomfortable with you sneezing every five seconds.”

You glare at him. “I mean, they didn’t say anything about it!”

“Yeah, because they don’t want a sick person to feel bad when they’re already sick,” Sunghoon retorts. He walks over to the mini fridge under the cupboard and brings out a carton of strawberry milk.

“Here,” he hands you the milk. “Eat your medicine quickly, then you can go to bed—wait, have you eaten soup?”

Sitting down on the edge of one of the single beds in the room, you sigh. “I have,” you reply, opening the packaging of the straw. “Jaeyun bought me some.”

Sunghoon, who’s about to get in the bathroom, pauses as he looks at you. For a moment, he doesn’t look away.

“Okay,” he takes a deep breath as he says, before going to the bathroom.

For a minute, you stare at the strawberry milk in your hands. You can’t help but smile a little—Sunghoon knows that you can’t swallow pills without flavoured drinks to go with it, due to the bad aftertaste; and he knows that your favourite flavour with almost anything is strawberry—your heart flutters, even if just a little bit, at your best friend’s simple gesture.

You quickly take your designated dose of paracetamol, followed by the strawberry milk; flopping down sideways onto the bed, feeling the exhaustion taking over you. Unable to control yourself, the world around you then goes dark as you close your eyes shut.

“Y/N? Princess?” Sunghoon calls, his tone softening as he spots you asleep.

He walks over to you, shaking his head. “I swear, this girl…”

After trying to wake you up several times and failing, Sunghoon decides to just let you sleep on his bed—he’ll sleep on Kangmin’s. With his build, he easily adjusts your posture so it’s more comfortable for you—he tucks you in with the comforter; neatly arranging your medicine and half-finished strawberry milk on the bedside table.

His tense features relax upon seeing you.

Sunghoon sits beside your sleeping figure, taking his time to absorb your presence. Some kind of heavy emotions dawn on him—he doesn’t know why or where they came from. Maybe it’s overwhelming affection for his best friend of more than a decade; maybe it’s the emotions suppressed for years.

Although reluctant, Sunghoon brushes hair away from your face—stunned to find himself admiring every inch of it. Accentuated by the dim lighting of the room, you look extremely beautiful.

Sunghoon retracts his hand, pressing it against his accelerating heart.

Why did she have to smile like that to Jake? Why did she have to let him take care of her when I’m here?

For the first time, he realises the heat in his cheeks as he gazes upon you. For the first time in a while, he admits the way his heart tightens, and the way his emotions churn in his stomach as he watches a laugh escape you when you’re with Jake. For the first time in years, he recognises the beauty of his best friend—it’s enchanting, ethereal and everlasting.

Though, Sunghoon’s extremely worried—and this is the sole reason why he’s been pushing away his own feelings for several years—he’s feared that his feelings would get in the way of your strong friendship. Countless thoughts attack him daily, every time he finds himself admiring you a little too much than he’s supposed to—what if you don’t like him back? What if you think it’s extremely weird? What if you don’t want to be friends with him anymore because you’re uncomfortable with it?

Sunghoon shakes his head, smacking his face lightly to knock himself out of it. He better get rid of whatever he’s feeling before it gets out of control.

At least I get to be close to her at all times.

Sunghoon then places his hand against your forehead, thankful that your temperature has gone down. The paracetamol was taking effect, and Sunghoon dearly hopes that you’ll be fine by tomorrow morning.

He smiles at the thought of spending a whole day with you.

“Shut up, Park Sunghoon,” he mutters to himself.

“Y/N! Good morning!” Jennie greets you, bringing you into a hug. She raises a brow at Sunghoon, who’s following you as you come out of the elevator. “What’s going on?”

“What?” you ask.

“Don’t be so dense,” Naeun sighs, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Why did you come out of the elevator with Sunghoon? You were gone last night too—I can’t believe I had to spend a night in a city I’ve never been to alone.”

Your eyes widen—you had spent the night in Park Sunghoon’s room without telling your girls about it. A misunderstanding could happen, and you didn’t have the energy to face one. “I-I accidentally fell asleep,” you say, before leaning close to your friends to whisper, “in his room.”

Naeun makes a disgusted face and Jennie gasps loudly. “Are you kidding me?” the latter shrieks.

Behind you, you hear Sunghoon chortle.

“No, no! It’s not what you think it is,” you panickedly say. Then, you add—even though it hurts to say, “we’re just friends.”

Jennie throws a dirty look at Sunghoon, who’s somehow struggling to keep a poker face on. “Yeah, sure. I’ll take your word for that,” she replies with a heavy sarcastic tone.

“I’ve done it multiple times!” you blurt out, immediately regretting that you worded it wrong—surely, it sounded like something else to your girlfriends. “I-I mean, we’ve been friends since pre-elementary, and we’ve slept together platonically for countless times.”

Naeun chuckles, “whatever.”

“Oh, also,” Sunghoon says, catching the attention of you and the two girls. “Here, wear my jacket,” he adds, smoothly taking off his varsity jacket, which has P. SUNGHOON and the number 23 embroidered at the back. He grabs your shoulders, spins you around and places the cream and navy blue varsity jacket on you.

“There,” he says, smiling sillily as he spins you back around to face him. “In case you get cold.”

You suck in your breath through gritted teeth, knowing perfectly the looks given to you and Sunghoon from Jennie and Naeun. Though, as you fight your inner demons that are strongly urging you to squeal your heart out to release the heat in your cheeks, you smile.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say as you properly wear his varsity jacket. Soon after, your nose buds are graciously attacked by the familiar scent of Sunghoon—fresh and masculine; a floral fragrance with herbaceous sweet undertones, perfectly blended with a warm and earthy aroma of a sweet yet spicy undertone.

“Hoon,” you ask, “are you wearing the Ralph Lauren perfume I got for you for your 16th birthday?”

He nods, slightly surprised. “You remember?”

Your cheeks warms again, “y-yeah. Well, I did smell it thoroughly before giving it to you, t-that’s why I got it memorised,” you smile as warmly as your cheeks, “I had to give you something that suits you so well.”

Sunghoon laughs. “Really?”

Actively ignoring the disgusted looks on your friends’ faces, Sunghoon proceeds to pinch your cheeks. “Aww, you love me~” he jokingly coos.

You mask your true feelings, once again, with a horrified expression. “Yeah, I do,” you admit slowly under your breath.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Sunghoon, I think I just fell in love with you all over again. Oh God. Sent 21:45 PM, 12th April.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Park Sunghoon, It’s been a long time since I’ve sent in anything. School has been quite hectic, hasn’t it? I barely see you after school, now that you’re busy with hockey practice and I’m busy with extra class and orchestra practice. Ahh, I’m so nervous! This is my first time assigned to play in the First Violins! I honestly wish I got to lead it this time, considering the amount of time I’ve played in a concert, but I do think that Gaeul deserves it! She plays violin really well, I’m sometimes envious of her skill. Oh, we have two concerts upcoming, by the way. One is next Tuesday, for the choir—we’re playing alongside as their background music. I’m the concertmaster for this one! I’m really really really nervous… I’ve been practising a lot, my hand hurts even typing and doing homework! Would you come and watch me play, Hoon? Sent 20:04 PM, 10th May.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Sunghoon! I think you did well today. Did you notice me in the bleachers? I was at school for a short while today—I wanted to pick up a textbook I accidentally left in my locker… hehehe. Please don’t scold me for being forgetful, I was so engrossed in orchestra practice yesterday. I almost missed the bus too! When I was walking past the ice rink, I saw you playing with your friends. You look so cool… gracefully skating on the ice. You look so determined and skillful. Oh my God, how do you even manage to look handsome and play hockey so well at the same time? I’m speechless… Anyway, I came in and watched you guys play. I sat with Han Jihyeon—you know her? She’s Dongmin’s noona. I talked to her about a lot of things—like how the fall band concert went, and how she’s balancing studies alongside her other stuff. Honestly, I admire her support for her younger brother. She says she’s never yet to miss watching any of his hockey practices and matches… She inspires me to do the same for you! Hehe. Oh God, I’m so… optimistic for no reason. I act like your girlfriend, even… when I’m not. You know what? It’s okay. At least I get to be there, admiring you from afar. That’s not too bad, right? Sent 13:56 PM, 11th May.

AS you’re putting on some makeup, trying to not ruin it due to your shaky hands, your smartphone rings. You glance over and see Sunghoon’s contact name, ‘Baekgu’, calling you. You quickly put your eyeshadow palette and brush down, picking up the call.

“Hi,” you say, putting the call on loudspeaker. You then set your smartphone back on your table, turning to the mirror to continue your makeup routine. “I’m putting you on loudspeaker, I’m putting on makeup.”

“Okay,” comes his reply. “What time is your concert? Isn’t it at half past five?”

You nod, carefully putting on highlighter and glitter on the edges of your eyes. “Yeah, but I have to get there at five.”

“Want me to pick you up?”

You snort. “You can’t even drive yet, Hoon.”

You hear him scoff, and laugh at the imagination of him doing so. “I have a motorcycle licence, you idiot.”

“Okay, okay,” you chortle, “but you don’t have practice today?”

“No,” he replies, “I can go to tomorrow’s—you have a concert today, why would I miss it?”

Your pupils dilate, and you pause in the midst of applying blush. “U-um—are you crazy, Park Sunghoon? You’re in the varsity team,” you scold him, “you shouldn’t be skipping any training!”

Sunghoon cackles. “Yah, who do you think I am? I’m Park Sunghoon, you know? One day of no training isn’t a big deal to me!”

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Sunghoon, I’m so nervous. On Tuesday, we’ll have the orchestra concert—and Miss Jeon, this morning, had suddenly told me that I have to replace Gaeul as concertmaster as she had an accident, broke her arm and was hospitalised, so she can’t play. I went to visit Gaeul just now, and she told me not to feel bad because I’m replacing her, but rather that I should feel proud because Miss Jeon knows that I’m capable enough to be a good concertmaster. I don’t know… I don’t know if I’ll play well enough. Sent 10:12 AM, 18th May.

You adjust your sitting posture, taking a deep breath of the fresh air around you. You had walked over to the park to clear your thoughts. The concert that you’re going to play in as concertmaster is coming in less than two days, and since it is the biggest concert you’ve ever played in, you’re more nervous than you ever were for any of your previous concerts.

“Y/N!” you hear Jake’s voice, and as you look up, he’s already making his way towards you.

“Hi,” he smiles as he greets you. “What are you doing out here alone? Without a hoodie, too.”

You shove your hands into the pockets of your pants, grinning sheepishly. “It’s okay, it’s not too cold.”

“You okay?” he asks as he takes a seat next to you. Jake looks a tad bit reluctant to do so, but the tension present in his features relaxes a little as you give him a reassuring smile. “You look a little off right now. Are you alright?”

You laugh, patting Jake’s arm. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Jake looks at you, his eyes filled with adoration. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s spring, but lately, he’s constantly thinking about you. Recently, all he’s curious about is if you’ve eaten, if you’re taking good care of yourself, if you’re feeling okay.

Though, Jake knows that he’s just a friend. Jake knows, perfectly enough, that he’s just your deskmate, who you talk to only out of courtesy or when Sunghoon’s away.

Spring is the season of love and blossoming feelings, and for Jake, it is wishing that you would see him as something more.

“I’m just wondering,” you begin, “if I’ll do good enough for the concert. I’m really, really nervous. I feel like my heart’s about to burst.”

“Oh?” Jake tilts his head slightly. “I think you’ll do okay.”

You lower your head. “I don’t think ‘okay’ is enough. I need this to be perfect—it’s my last high school orchestra concert, and-and I don’t think I’ve been practising as much as I wanted to, with all the studying–”

Jake grabs your hand and places it on his heart. It’s racing, beatng faster than you thought it was.

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.

“Here. Can you feel it?”

Too flustered—both from the sudden form of intimacy and the feeling of Jake’s heartbeats against your hand, you find yourself unable to form any words, so you simply nod.

“This is how I feel every single time a basketball match is about to start, or whenever I’m with someone I enjoy being around,” Jake continues, “it’s as if my heart is running faster than I do… but anyway, my point is that it’s okay to feel nervous, even when you’re doing something you’ve done so many times. You’ve worked hard for this concert, right?”

Jake looks at you, directly in the eye, and he gives you a gentle smile. It’s reassuring and comforting, conveying to you more than his words did.

“Yeah,” you mumble.

“Then, you don’t have to be afraid,” Jake says, his voice softer than his usual poised tone, “you’ll do well—just like you always do. If you don’t believe in that, it’s okay. Just know that I believe in you. A lot of people do.”

“Thank you, Jaeyun,” you sigh, after taking a few minutes to process Jake’s words—and the fact that you’re sitting there, with him, hand in hand.

It gives you tingles, exciting your nerves—Jake’s presence is gentle and warm, even if it’s a little sudden and abrupt. You enjoy being around him, and seeing another side to the well-known basketball talent—who’s always seen as someone who is carefree and laid-back. Honestly, you’re surprised to find out that the caring side of Jake was so much more than just smiling frequently at people. You’re surprised to find that Jake is a soul made out of compassion and kindness, and you’re ever so grateful to befriend someone like him.

“My pleasure,” he replies, squeezing your hand once. “I’m… glad to be of help.”

You let go of his hand, standing up. “I’m going to go home and practise some more,” you tell Jake, who immediately perks up at your voice. “I’ll see you later?”

“Alright—you don’t want me to walk you home?”

You shake your head, “it’s okay, I can manage.”

Jake nods, and waves you goodbye.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Today’s the day of the concert. I’m very scared, but I’ll try to shrug it off. I woke up super early today, despite not being able to sleep that well last night. I’m all dressed, I did my hair and makeup for school; I even have the dress for the concert all ready. I already double checked my violin and memorised my music sheets (even though I’ll be having them on display for the concert later)... but I just still feel so anxious. Help me, Sunghoon, I don’t know what to do. Sent 6:32 AM, 20th May.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jake greets you, knocking you out of your train of thought. You look to your side and see him hopping off his bicycle, pushing it slowly to match your walking pace. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you smile back, your cheeks itching due to the insincerity of the smile. “Where’s Jennie?”

“She’s still at home,” Jake answers, “you know her—she’s always out at around half past seven.”

You nod, aware of what he’s talking about. “I see. Why are you out so early, though? It’s only seven o’clock.”

Jake chuckles. “Well I figured I had to start out early to catch up with you. Turns out my timing is perfect today. I always catch you at school already.”

“Yeah,” you give him a courteous smile. “I noticed that too.”

“So, how’ve you been doing?” Jake asks, after around five minutes of silence.

“I’m fine,” you simply say. You’re lying, as who would be absolutely fine when they’ve got an extremely important and big event coming up in a few hours? Though, you didn’t feel the need to explain to Jake.

“Are you?” he counters, an eyebrow raised in the following. “I’m really amazed if you truly are, considering that you’ve been balancing studying for midterms and national entrance exams—which at the same time, you’ve also been practising violin.”

You choke out some laughter. “You’ve been observant of me, huh? Don’t think that’s a little creepy?”

Satisfaction and a little bit of guilt washes through you as you delightfully watch Jake’s eyes widen. “I-oh my,” he stumbles over his words the same way he’s tripping on air out of pure embarrassment. He quickly catches up with you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off as a creep, Y/N. I’m just quite… observant, that’s all.”

You chortle, feeling in the mood to tease the five feet nine inches dude walking beside you. “Are you?” you tease, mimicking his accent and the way he said it to you earlier, “then, Jaeyun, tell me what are the ten enzymes in the glycolysis process?”

Jake’s jaw drops wide open. “I-I mean–”

You burst out laughing, glad that you’re finally able to catch him off guard. “Gotcha. Knew you weren’t thoroughly observant.”

“Hey! That isn’t fair, you’re asking me about biology,” Jake pouts. “Who on earth would pay attention in Mrs Nelly’s class?”

“Y/N would.”

You pause in your tracks, shock sending chills throughout your body as you feel Sunghoon’s voice to your right. You look in his direction, and he’s already walking in synchronisation of your tempo. Sunghoon slides his arm around your shoulder, giving you a grin.

“Good morning, princess,” he says casually.

You clear your throat, your cheeks coloured pink at the close vicinity. “Good morning, Hoon.”

“Good morning, Sunghoon,” Jake says plainly.

“Oh, Jake?” Sunghoon tilts his head, giving the basketball jock a taunting yet innocent look—as if he’s just noticed his presence. “G’morning.”

You manage to catch a glimpse of Sunghoon’s smug face: his left eyebrow raised and his slight smile was evidently one-sided—directed straight to Jake.

“Have you eaten breakfast, princess?” Sunghoon asks, turning back to you.

You shake your head, flexing your shoulders to adjust the position of both your backpack and your violin case backpack. “I don’t have the appetite.”

Both Sunghoon and Jake form a perplexed look simultaneously. Sunghoon smacks the back of your head feebly, rolling his eyes. “Yah! What did I tell you? Eat your breakfast!” he scolds, “do you want me to die?”

“What does my breakfast have to do with you dying?” you retort.

“Well–” your best friend of almost 10 years pauses. “It doesn’t matter, but, c’mon,” he changes the topic, grabbing your hand. He glances at Jake, who’s biting his lips shut, before dragging you away. “Let’s get to school early so we can grab some breakfast.”

“Oomf–” you manage, stumbling. “See you later, Jaeyun!” you give Jake a wave with your free hand. Jake forms a smile upon seeing it, and in return, he waves.

“ARE you nervous?” Sunghoon asks as the two of you are packing your bags at the end of the day’s lessons.

“Well, if you can’t tell,” you joke with a deadpanned expression, zipping your school backpack shut. “Yes.”

Sunghoon runs a hand through his hair, smiling meekly. “I mean, you’re so good at the violin, so I didn’t think you’d be nervous.”

“Are you insane?” you gasp, smacking the 12th grader’s head. He blocks your hit effortlessly with his arm. “It’s my biggest concert as a freaking concertmaster!”

Sunghoon grins. “So? You’re going to ace it either way,” he grabs you, and before you could react, puts you in a headlock. He ruffles your hair aggressively. “Won’t you?”

“Hey!” you scream, frantically pulling yourself away from him. Luckily for you, his grip is purposefully loose, so you quickly stand back on your feet. “What was that for?”

Sunghoon merely smiles—it’s gentler and comforting this time—as if he’s silently reassuring you that everything will go just fine.

“Y/N,” Jake calls, shattering the moment you’re having with Sunghoon. You quickly turn to face him, unaware of the grim change in Sunghoon’s expression. Jake hands you a canned ice lemon tea. “Here, um, I don’t know if you like lemon tea or not–”

“I do!” you animatedly beam. Jake sighs in gratitude.

“...thank God. Anyway, I got this for you, my grandma said that tea’s good for calming your nerves down,” Jake continues.

“The sugar will make her energetic anyway,” you hear Sunghoon mutter grumpily behind you. You’re not sure if Jake hears it, because the smile on his face is unwavering.

“Thanks,” you say. Jake nods, and before he can say anything in reply, Sunghoon snatches the can of ice lemon tea in your hand.

“This looks good,” he muses, his smirk evident. You turn towards him, confused. What is he really trying to do? “I’m gonna have some, eh?”

You wear your backpack, shrugging. “You do you, Park Sunghoon. I’m going to go now, I’ve got to get ready for the concert.”

“Wait up!” Sunghoon exclaims, running after you.

SUNGHOON runs into the waiting area of the orchestra pit’s stage, 15 minutes before the concert starts. He tries to spot you—or simply anyone he knows to help him find you. He sees plenty of people: a group of violinists, another group of people tuning their cellos and violas. His eyes scan through the crowd, and spots you in a corner, pacing here and there to calm yourself down.

“Y/N,” he says, a little softer than he intended. You turn around—the ankle-length black skirt creating a flower around you as it swirls, your hair gently hitting your face. Sunghoon clears his throat in an attempt to drive away the fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh, you look beautiful,” he blurts out, leaving you wide-eyed and as flustered as he is.

“T-thanks,” you manage.

Sunghoon takes a deep breath, hesitating at the last minute. He brings out his arms and pulls you into a hug, embracing you in his warmth; at the same time stepping over the line he’s placed between himself and you. He lingers around longer than you expect him to, and when he finally pulls away, the tip of his ears are flushed red.

“You’ll do great,” Sunghoon whispers, squeezing your shoulders in hopes of channeling the confidence he has in your ability, to you. “I know that.”

You smile warmly at him.

This is why you can’t stop falling in love with him—Park Sunghoon—your own best friend. He knows you so well, probably even more than you know yourself. He knows exactly when you need anything, and perfectly how you need things. He makes you feel like it’s so easy to befriend you—like loving you is the easiest thing in the world, even if it was platonic.

Everything is simple and easy when you’re with Sunghoon.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Sunghoon, I haven’t been writing to you in a very long time—I hope you’re doing okay. National state exams are coming in less than a week, and I’m a total nervous wreck. I’ve been studying every single day, but I don’t know… I wish I planned things out better. I don’t know if I’ve memorised everything, if I’ve reviewed everything, and if I’ve done enough practice questions. I’m laughing at myself right now. So ironic, right? I’m Decelis Academy’s prodigy, the so-called “academic weapon” of our school, but I can’t even get studying right. I haven’t been studying properly these past few days. I can’t even open my eyes… my head hurts and nothing makes sense. I don’t know, Sunghoon. I wish burnout didn’t exist. And I sincerely hope that you’re not going through the same thing as me. Sent 12:48 PM, 9th November.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Hoon, Why am I like this? Why can’t I study properly? Every passing minute I feel more like a failure. Why can’t I memorise anything? I’m so dumb. So stupid. I don’t know anymore. Sent 8:03 AM, 10th November.

Sunghoon grabs a coat and quickly heads out of his house, desperate to get fresh air. Studying has gotten his head clogged, and for the first time in a while, he believes that burnout is real. He hasn’t even been to two weeks of hockey practice, and that is significant for someone like Sunghoon.

He grabs his smartphone out of his pocket and opens one of the only pinned contacts in his messages—you. He’s worried; you haven’t texted him back in three days. And knowing you, Sunghoon guesses that you probably forgot to respond to him due to your intense studying.

Since he’s already out and about to talk a walk, he might as well grab a refresher or two and visit you. Sunghoon stops by a cafe near your school, one that he specifically knew to always have your favourite strawberry danish. He buys two of them along with two cups of lemon sprite, swiftly catching a taxi to arrive at your house faster.

After sitting down, Sunghoon texts you.

hey, have you had lunch?

And to his surprise, he gets a response within three minutes.

Though, it wasn’t from you.

sunghoon, this is heeseung

y/n’s in the hospital

she collapsed

the doctor said it’s bc she hasn’t eaten properly the past few days

He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

His heart stops for a split second. The world around him starts spinning rapidly as he tries to process Heeseung’s messages. His hands start to shake, making it hard for him to type a response to Heeseung. Fear starts to creep up on him, and malicious thoughts fill his brain.

Sunghoon shakily calls out to the driver to change the route and bring him to the hospital—his heart banging loudly against his chest every second of it.

“LEE Y/N!” Sunghoon’s scream echoes through the hallway of the hospital as soon as he enters. His vision blurry with tears, he storms in with shaky fists, ignoring all the judging eyes on him. He approaches you, standing right next to your bed.

“Hoon?” you say, confused. You’ve been awake for half an hour, so you didn’t feel entirely weak. You’re leaning against the bed frame with a pillow propped behind your back, an IV drip to your left hand.

“Why do you always do this to yourself?” Sunghoon whimpers, every word he utters weaker than the previous one. “Why do you always neglect yourself? Why do you always treat yourself badly? Do you not care about yourself? Do you not care about me… about how I feel when you do this?”

You watch, horror painted across your face, as tears rain down Sunghoon’s cheeks. He utters every word with pain laced onto every letter, and by the time he manages to force the last bit out of his throat, his knees go weak. Sunghoon is on his knees, his hands tightly gripping the sides of the hospital bed. Tears flow uncontrollably from his eyes, staining his handsome porcelain face.

“Hoon,” you call gently, causing him to look up. The expression on his face, his sparkly eyes filled with pain and agony broke your heart. “What… what’s wrong?”

The response comes out of Sunghoon, slow and weak—yet it is sincere, straight from his heart.

“I can’t lose you.”

“I-” you’re torn. You’re so sure Sunghoon doesn’t see you as someone more than his best friend, yet why is he bawling his eyes out, on his knees, in front of you? He looks like someone who’s almost lost his significant other—yet you’re sure that Sunghoon simply sees you as his childhood buddy.

Though, you can’t hold it in anymore—your heart breaks at the sight of Sunghoon, the boy you’ve loved for years to no end, in tears because of you. You collect every bit of energy in your body and hop off the bed, crouching to his level.

“Hoon,” you mumble, grabbing his hands. “Look at me.”

Sunghoon follows, and once again, it breaks your heart to stare into his eyes, now red and tear-stricken.

“I’m here,” you say, staring straight into his eyes. “Okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

You fight back a smile, reminiscing at a distant memory—one where you comforted a nine-year-old Sunghoon who was wailing the living daylights out of himself, due to you being sick and absent from school for three days. He thought he lost you, that you had moved away and would never come back. You remember pulling him into a hug at the school playground, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

Though, as the two of you grow up, Sunghoon never really cried. It’s always been you—crying during sad movies, silently weeping when you get a grade you wished was higher, sobbing when violin classes were a little on the harder side—and Sunghoon had always been the one there to listen and comfort you. Well, quoting a ninth grader Sunghoon, he said men aren’t supposed to cry.

This was the first time you’ve seen him cry, in years.

Sunghoon looks at your hands, and when his eyes land on the one with the IV drip, tears begin to rain down again. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“What are you sorry for, Hoon?” you ask.

Sunghoon lets out a heart wrenching sob and pulls you into his embrace. It’s sudden yet warm and tight as if you’ll disappear if he lets you go. You let him sob on your shoulder, though you’re still wondering why seeing you in this condition makes him seem so heartbroken.

A glimpse of hope flutters its way in.

Perhaps Sunghoon harbours the same feelings as you.

“Y/N!” you hear Jake’s voice, and as you look up, you see him in front of you. His chest is heaving up and down, catching his breath.

“Hi,” you smile. “Did you run here?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I was at extra class. Then, I heard from Jennie that you’re…”

You chuckle sheepishly. “Yeah… I’m sorry if I made you worry,” you say, glancing at Sunghoon—who’s asleep by your side, his head propped against the bed.

Jake looks briefly at Sunghoon, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Am I interrupting something?”

You widen your eyes, quickly shaking your head. “No! I mean, nothing’s going on. He’s just tired.”

Jake presses his lips into a thin line, nodding along. “Where are your parents? Heeseung?”

“Oh, they left to get lunch. They should be back soon,” you reply, “I forced Heeseung to make them go, ‘cause I know my mom loses her appetite entirely if anything happens to me or my brother.”

Jake nods. He approaches your bedside table and places a plastic bag filled with fruits inside. “Here, I bought some fruits. They should replenish your energy pretty effectively.”

“Why? Is it because they contain a high level of glucose, fibres and antioxidants?” you jest, giving Jake a lopsided grin.

Jake stares at you, blinking his eyes rapidly in confusion for a few seconds. “Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He smiles a little. “Well, true, but fruits contain natural sugars that can be broken down into glucose. They don’t contain, like, plain old glucose.”

You break out in fits of laughter. “Oh my, someone has been doing his studying well!”

Jake laughs, lowering his head to avoid breaking into a larger eruption of laughter. “Well, I need to study, unfortunately,” he says, after gaining composure. “The entrance exam isn’t going to write itself, is it?”

The two of you exchange smiles. You then look away, shifting your gaze from one object to another while trying to come up with a subject to talk about—as it has become quite awkward as both you and Jake don’t know what to say.

“So, um, are you feeling okay?” Jake asks, his eyes flickering between your face and the IV drip taped securely on your hand.

You nod. “I’m okay now. I ate two strawberry danishes,” you giggle, pointing over to the opened packaging of the pastries on the bedside table. “Sunghoon bought them for me! Wah, how does he know exactly what I’m craving for? I haven’t eaten these in so long!”

Something stung Jake’s heart, seeing you talk so animatedly about a tiny gesture made by Sunghoon. The big smile on your face and the higher pitch of your voice tells Jake everything he needs to know about how you feel towards your childhood best friend.

You like Sunghoon, more than what friends are supposed to. You love Sunghoon, on a much higher level than what friends would do.

“Why do you like strawberries so much?” Jake asks.

You chuckle awkwardly. “Um. I don’t… really… know how to answer that? I’ve always loved strawberries since I was a kid.”

“Was it because Sunghoon gave you a strawberry when you guys first met?” Jake probes even more. It was just a guess, but he wanted to see your reaction to it.

Your pupils dilate abruptly. “No! No… no, obviously not. The first thing he ever gave to me was a Bumblebee action figure. He thought it’d be a good replacement after breaking the Kung Fu Panda figurine Heeseung gave to me,” you answer, chuckling at the old memory.

“You remember every moment very clearly,” Jake points out.

“Oh! Um. Well… that’s because…” you end up simply cheekily smiling at Jake, as you didn’t know what the appropriate response would be.

“You like Sunghoon,” Jake states so curtly it makes you choke on air.

“Don’t you?” he adds to further push the answer out of you. Jake knows what your answer would be, though he needed to hear it from you.

Your cheeks pink, you spend a good minute staring wide eyed at Jake, not knowing how to respond to such a thorough revelation. You’ve never witnessed this side of Jake before—fierce, determined and harshly curt—his polite and bright smile turned into a sharp and alluring gaze.

“It’s complicated,” you end up saying.

“You believe he doesn’t like you,” Jake continues. His words hit hard like a bullet, attacking you in every aspect.

You gape at the 12 grader in front of you. How was he so observant, or are you just too obvious and easy to figure out?

“Yeah…” you sigh. “I mean, friends aren’t supposed to like each other. There are so many better girls out there for him, so I doubt he even sees me more than a childhood best friend.”

Pause.

“And there are better guys for you, out there, too,” Jake says softly.

Before you’re able to process the harsh reality in Jake’s words, he hits you with another bullet—a brutal offensive straight to the heart.

Jake takes a deep breath, determined.

“I like you.”

Slowly, you look up to meet his eyes. The pair of brown eyes are filled with firm sincerity, as if he’s giving it all; never backing down.

“Date me,” he says with a firm tone that tells you perfectly that he’s serious about it. “I’ll treat you better than anyone ever will.”

“I-I–” you stammer, unable to look Jake in the eye.

“Try dating me for a month,” he suggests, his tone gentler than before, almost shaky. “I’ll show you how well I’ll treat you.”

You force yourself to meet Jake’s eyes—finding some desperation lingering around. He’s firm and resolute, yet you could actually hear his voice shaking. “If you still don’t like me after that, reject me. I’ll be content… with your decision.” to be continued...

― © htaesan, 2025.

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#✩⋆⁺₊ k-films — publishes #✩⋆⁺₊ pg — 13 #✩⋆⁺₊ artist — htaesan #✩⋆⁺₊ group — enhypen #✩⋆⁺₊ member — sunghoon #✩⋆⁺₊ member — jake #✩⋆⁺₊ genre — fluff #✩⋆⁺₊ genre — childhood best friends to lovers #✩⋆⁺₊ genre — angst #✩⋆⁺₊ wc — >1k #✩⋆⁺₊ warnings — food sickness #✩⋆⁺₊ warnings — skinship #✩⋆⁺₊ warnings — petnames #✩⋆⁺₊ warnings — crying

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thepandalion · 3 months ago

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so Im currently obsessing over these 3 pieces of media, right?

two of them have a guy named dylan. one dylan is a cute little guy who gets tormented by literal monsters. the other is just some guy at the office who thinks the fact he's good at his job is bragworthy (it is not)

Im now experiencing whiplash from the range that a dylan can go through

#they ARE both the quickest to jump to violence in their respective groups though #also the dylan thats in a series has 9 eps and my Other thing is also gonna be 9 eps #(meanwhile. the other dylan is from a game so no eps. but yes 9 for 9 playable characters??)#anyways this is panda brainrot hours I am so normal about mark scout and dylan lenivy I am the normalest ever I promise #(I want. to put mark. in a washing machine. wet beast hours and its just this pathetic idiot man in a washing machine)#(dylan does not deserve washing machine. he's been through enough he literally just wanted some more childhood memories before college #and then he gets mauled by the bears. like the only way to not have him be mauled is by killing his friends he is Not having a good time)#((I. cant choose a Guy from my third thing. which is tadc obv. theyre all so scrimbly and Im looking for blorbos yknow?))#((which might have to do with how the other two are 18+ content for violence. they have had Bad stuff happen to them))#((which like. tadc guys also aint living the life but Im p sure they cant get mauled to death or their brain split open like the other two)#((I say that as if mark suffers any amount compared to like. petey or helly. but he's just. its a kicked puppy vibe to me))#(((I just realized that the 4th secret thing Im interested in but less rn happens to Also have a guy named mark)))#((generic names for the win ig. they just exist and get tormented by unimaginable horrors of various genres. such as the goats or bears))

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chuluoyi · 11 months ago

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

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k-films · 25 days ago

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[NEW PROD.] Check out Yeji's new drabble !

I loved you from the start - Lee Heeseung

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆even after the heartbreak your best friends gives you, you just can’t stay away from him ⨾

۶ৎ childhood best friends!heeseung x fem!reader┆comfort, angst, some fluff┆crying, a kiss, petnames┆wc 795

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhh so hi?….i’m here again ahha….here’s part two after all these decades…

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

part 2 to this fic

from the time that you left heeseung’s house to now, you weren’t exactly sure what had happened.

it was all a blur. maybe it was all the tears that were rapidly pouring down your face.

why? why? why did the world hate you so much?

but what did you expect…why would heeseung ever love someone like you when he could get any girl in the world?

a sob raked through your body and you bit down on your lip, hard. what were you thinking? honestly, heeseung would never see you as anything more than a best friend.

but little did you know, heeseung was in a very similar state as you were.

the minute he locked eyes with you and as the girl pressed her lips against his, he knew. he knew it all. that it was you who he was waiting for his whole life. that it was you who he loved.

“i-i i have to go,” is all he says to the girl who he suddenly can’t remember the name of, before he dashes out of his yard.

was he too late? did you never want to talk to him ever again?

once he made it to your window, he saw the faint glow of your night lamp through your window.

he needed to get to you. so, his solution is to pick up a couple pebbles and throw them at your window—classic, i know.

tick! tick! tick!

the sounds made against your window cause your head to rise, tilting to the side as you try to figure out what the noise was.

you walk over to your window, opening it and before you could help yourself, you let out a gasp.

heeseung is standing there, his eyes look red and a worried look plastered on your face.

“heeseung?? what are you doing here?” you manage to get out, whisper shouting because you didn’t want to wake your parents.

“angel…i need to talk to you..please. i understand if you don’t want to hear me out but i just need to at least..tell you these words,” he pleads, his expression breaking your heart.

never in all of the years that you have known heeseung has he ever had that much pain in his expression. his does eyes are glazed over from what you could tell and his eyebrows are scrunched together.

with a sigh, you slightly nod.

“the front door’s unlocked. try not to wake my parents.”

now you’re not quite sure what to do. heeseung is sat on your bed, next to you, and you both sit there in silence.

“y/n…i-i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i was so blind and i just couldn’t see what was really going on. but now, now i do. i get it now,” he starts, taking your hands into his.

you can’t bare to look him in the eyes yet. not yet.

“i’m in love with you y/n. and i have been forever but i was just too blind to see it. i’m so in love with you that it hurts to see you like this. to see the tears i’ve caused you. angel, i’m so sorry..” he exhales, his eyes getting glossy once again.

that’s when you look up at him. his eyes were so..sad. you don’t even know the words to express the emotions you saw in his eyes.

lee heeseung loved you. he loved you and only you. but he was so blind that he couldn’t see it. what?

“hee….is that really how you feel?” you ask softly, too scared that if you spoke any louder, this dream would come to an end. no. not yet. not before he can tell you he does love you.

“oh angel..i’m so sorry i ever made you doubt it, i love you so much it hurts.” heeseung reassures, rubbing soft circles on your hand.

and that’s how it is.

you two sit on the edge of your bed, your head resting on heeseung’s shoulder. and that’s the way you like it. that’s the way it’s always been but now, now you two are in love.

“stay a little bit longer..” you mumble, not sure if you were ready to let heeseung go yet.

“baby, i’m never going anywhere. i’ve got you,” he says, turning to look at you and sealing his words with a sweet kiss against your lips.

“i don’t think i could ever hate you l, even if i tried so hard,” you breathe, hating the way that your words were just so true.

heeseung was the one who got you most. he was the one who loved you most but you were both unable to see it until now.

“thank you for loving me angel..thank you for being here from the start of it all.”

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic

#✩⋆⁺₊ k-films — publishes #✩⋆⁺₊ pg — 13 #✩⋆⁺₊ artist — orimuraa #✩⋆⁺₊ group — enhypen #✩⋆⁺₊ member — heesung #✩⋆⁺₊ genre — fluff #✩⋆⁺₊ genre — childhood friends to lovers #✩⋆⁺₊ genre — angst #✩⋆⁺₊ wc — >1k #✩⋆⁺₊ warnings — crying #✩⋆⁺₊ warnings — kissing #✩⋆⁺₊ warnings — petnames

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valyvinny · 3 months ago

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╰┈➤ ❝ Love and deepspace boys *:･ﾟ✧*: Losing control ❞

PAIRING : Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader and Xavier x reader GENRE : Soft smut WORD COUNT : 2.6k TAGS : MDNI 18+ NSFW, kissing, making out, grinding, dry humping, allusions to sex, rafayel is implied to be in heat, back scratching (only is sylus') A/N : PHEWW, I know I said that the next piece of writing may take a while but I also have no self control lol. Though this time I promise its gonna take a hot minute cause final year med school exams are kicking my asssss. Also, I didn't expect my previous piece to do as well as it did. Thank you all so so much for reading it and I hope you enjoy this one :)

The lads boys can't help but lose control around you

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Caleb

Caleb is addicted to your lips. It’s almost like he’s making up for the years he’s spent abstaining from you, littering fleeting pecks throughout the day.

Caleb just can’t seem to help himself. He’d always kiss you hello and goodbye. He’d kiss you good morning and good night.

He was always so gentle with it, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears before cupping your face in his palms, holding you like you’re made of glass. Afraid that with one wrong move, you’d break.

He’d take his time to admire your features. Features that he’s cherished and adored his whole life, that he can probably draw out from memory. Your expressive eyes gazing at him in anticipation, the plush of your inviting lips, the dusty pink hue that’s settled on your cheeks.

You were his entire world and he could only hope you’d be able to feel at least a fraction of what he felt for you and how much he treasured you in the way he kissed you. Soft and tender. Pouring all the passion he could as he moved his lips against yours.

But perhaps most infuriatingly (not really, you secretly loved it), he’d often kiss you mid conversation. A light peck to stop you in your tracks. It was his trump card, especially when you were scolding him for something. And it worked every time, it always seemed to melt you into a puddle

“You just look so adorable when you’re talking to me pip-squeak” he’d say, laughing at your display of annoyance. But the fact that you we’re fighting off a smile said you felt otherwise.

But when he had the time to indulge himself in you, it was an entirely different experience. An entirely different Caleb. The duality of your childhood friend always gave you a whiplash.

He’s pulling you close to him, savoring the feeling of your body against his. You’re caged against his imposing form and whatever surface he’s crowding you against this time. You’re pinned, completely at the mercy of the man that’s yearning for your touch.

Caleb kisses you with the hunger of a thousand men. His kisses are feverish, demanding, ravishing every corner of your mouth like it’s the first time. He bites down on the plush of your bottom lip, taking you by surprise.

“Sorry”, he breathes. But he isn’t really. Not when the sound of your wanton moans sends tingles down his spine. God, how did he get so fucking lucky. Having you here like this, so pliant and needy in his arms is his version of heaven.

The feeling of you carding your fingers through the strands of his hair, tugging at the roots makes a filthy groan escape from his lips. You’re going to be the death of him.

You’re impatiently pulling his lips towards you again, and it only spurs him on further, pressing one bruising kiss after another, leaving your lips swollen. All the while his hand is sneaking up your shirt to feel the intoxicating warmth of your body.

You rarely ever stop him when he gets like this. You know he needs it, needs you. And you want him too. Desperately. So you take a hold of his hand and guide it lower, Caleb’s eyes darkening in response. It’s safe to say that neither of you are going anywhere anytime soon.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Sylus

Sylus is subtle with his affections, it reflects in his gentle and otherwise discrete mannerisms.

The silver haired man has made a habit of kissing your hand in greeting.

“My lady”, he’s tease, smirking at the your cheeks tinged pink and your defiant pout.

Occasionally, he’d press a kiss on the top of your head and interlace his fingers with yours. Other times, he’d wrap your hands around your waist, guiding you through noisy crowds.

However, behind closed doors, your proximity was a drug to him.

He’d rarely, if ever, be apart from you and your lips. Once he had you against him on his bed, perched on his lap, you’d be better off clearing your schedule.

Sylus could spend hours savoring the touch of your lips against his. He’s a sensual kisser. Taking his time to draw out every moan, every whimper he can draw from you.

He’s slow, concentrating first on your upper, then your lower lip, your mouth moving against his in tandem with a rhythm that comes with practiced ease. He’s thoroughly infatuated with the way you move against him, seeking more of his touch.

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, before entangling his fingers in your hair, angling your face just right for him to kiss you deeper, while his other hand is wrapped against your waist leaning you against the headboard.

It’s intoxicating. You’re drowning in the presence of this man, and with each kiss, you only want to sink deeper and deeper.

His kisses are numbing. Your lips tingling with how much they’re being ravaged by his, but you don’t want it to stop. In fact, you want to break his resolve further.

So you pull out his shirt that’s tucked neatly in his pants, your hand snaking up his back, feeling the muscles flex underneath your fingertips.

You rake your nails across his back, the sting making the silver haired male shudder in response, satisfied at his break in composure.

“You sly minx” he chides, black tendrils of his Evol emerging to bind your wrists over your head, freeing him to continue his offense.

Each press of his lips steals your breath away, leaving you completely drunk with need, until the only thought consuming you was the man in front of you.

As the minutes tick by, Sylus is emboldened with a new sense of ferocity and intensity as you find yourself grinding against his thigh, desperate to ease the growing warmth in between your thighs.

And if you were willing to, he’d be very happy to indulge you, give you everything you want and more.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Zayne

Zayne is a sensible man. His logical reasoning and quick thinking, even in the most critical situations, is what makes him the most sought after Cardiothoracic Surgeon in Linkon.

He’s very rarely swayed by his emotions. But that also means he comes off as cold and unfeeling to the people around him.

Not to you though. Never to you. Zayne is the warmest presence in your life.

In the midst of all his responsibilities, you are his reprieve, a breath of fresh air. When he has you to himself, the doctor throws all sense and reason out the window. You are his ultimate weakness.

You are his to worship. The need he feels for you is indescribable. It consumes him, swallows him whole, until he starts to let lose any remaining restraint that holds him back from you.

The way Zayne kisses you can only be described as reverent. He takes his time with you. Worshipping you.

Kissing featherlight kisses up your jaw, his lips just barely brushing your skin, trailing them to just beneath your ear, before tugging at your earlobe with his teeth.

You shiver in response, angling yourself towards him, trying to press more of yourself to him in hopes that he will relent.

But Zayne is in no hurry. Not at all. He wants to watch you unravel under him. Bit my bit until you’re completely pliant.

He wants to be selfish with you. So he continues his ministrations, peppering kisses down your throat, feeling the vibrations of your hums and huffs with his lips.

You’re struggling to keep your eyes open now, Zayne’s gentle but lethal movements sending a flush of warmth down your body. You need his lips on yours, you need it like you need air.

“Please Zayne…kiss me”

How could he deny you when you begged him so sweetly?

The sight of you so debauched with just a few simple touches sends Zayne into a frenzy. It pleases him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you.

So he relents, giving you what you want and kissing your lips, while you sigh in relief. Finally.

Zayne kisses you with intent. His hands are at your hips, squeezing slightly as he devours the moans that leave your lips.

He moves his hand to touch your face, earning a surprised gasp from you, your eyes shooting open. His fingertips are icy cold. Only then do you notice, there’s frost creeping up his neck and hands. His Evol is responding to you.

But Zayne pays it no mind, he’d die before ever causing you harm. So he grazes your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, gazing into your eyes while nodding reassuringly.

“I’m okay” he’d confirm before he captures your lips again, this time with renewed vigor, determined to finish what he started.

He’s everywhere all at once, and you find comfort in each other’s kisses, touches and presence. Allowing yourselves to get lost in each other further into the night.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Xavier

Xavier is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. His unsuspecting and otherwise modest appearance only serves as a facade, concealing his genuine desires.

While he comes off as quiet and unassuming, the truth is far from it.

He can’t help himself. You’re his. The hunter wants you next to him at all times, kissing him, touching him, loving him. He wants your undivided attention on him, selfishly so.

It always starts out so innocent. He’s pulling you into his embrace, kissing the tip of your nose in greeting.

“Hello my star” he says, as you giggle under his affection. And God his heart clenches at the sound. It’s music to his ears.

He repeats the action, then tenderly peppering kisses all over your face. Your forehead, the apple of your cheeks, the dip of your chin and the corner of your lips. Over and over again until you’re reduced into a fit of laughter.

“Xavier, it tickles” you whine, with no real complaint in your tone.

He ceases his playful gesture, only to wrap his hands around your waist, picking you up and placing you on the dining table with practiced ease.

You often find yourself in this position. Perched on a surface with Xavier spreading your thighs, finding his rightful place between them.

He’s burying his face in your neck, brushing his lips against your thrumming pulse. The sound of your breath hitching in response makes Xavier smile against your skin. He’s got you exactly where he wants you.

“My light, can I please?” He asks, pleading for your permission to spoil you.

You find it very hard to deny the hunter, especially when you know what usually comes next. And you want it so bad. Want him to come undone and take you for himself. You’ve never stopped him before and you’re most definitely not going to stop him now.

The breathy ‘please’ that leaves your lips is all the confirmation he needs as he dives to nip at the nape of your neck. Your skin is soft and warm as he swipes his tongue along the line of your pulse. You throw your head back in response, inviting him to take more of you.

Xavier worries the skin in between his teeth, sucking and tonguing at the spot until he’s satisfied with the dark splotch that blooms in its place.

He continues a similar onslaught across your collarbone and throat, leaving you hissing at the delicious sting.

The hunter trails his lips up your throat, finally connecting his lips with yours. He kisses you like a man starved, encouraged by the sight of the dark purple marks he’s left decorating your skin.

It satisfies a primal part of him, knowing in a way, he’s claimed you for himself.

He’s greedy for you, and isn’t ashamed to show it. Pressing chaste kisses one after the other, barely giving you a second to catch your breath, swallowing the lustful moans that threaten that leave your lips.

And as his hand squeezes the fat of your thighs, edging his fingertips higher to the warmth that sits between your legs, you know that you’re not leaving his apartment until you’re absolutely ruined.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Rafayel

There’s only two things that Rafayel needs to survive in this world. One is his art, the second is you. The merman is needy and he isn’t ashamed to show it.

Sometimes, it’s difficult to get anything done when the Lemurian is around. He’s practically glued to your side, sneaking kisses to your cheek, wrapping his hand around your waist and nuzzling into the nape of your neck.

You aren’t complaining though, you find it endearing when he’s all pouty and clingy.

And then there’s Rafayel when there’s an insatiable need growing under his skin that he just can’t seem to itch.

When he gets like this, you’ve learned to surrender to his mercy. That’s how you find yourself currently perched on his lap.

His gaze is intense, half lidded eyes staring you down like you’re his prey. He’s breathing heavier than usual, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.

“Raf, are you okay?” You question worryingly. He’s burning up, you can practically feel the heat emanating from his skin.

Wordlessly, Rafayel takes a hold of your hand, placing it on his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. It’s not enough though, he’s growing more restless. He needs more of you touching him.

On instinct, the merman turn his face to bite at the fat of your palm, laving his tongue over the skin. When he hears your breath hitch, he breaks.

With all semblance of reason now completely disregarded, Rafayel grasps at your neck, pressing your body into his eliminating any space between the two of you.

His lips are on yours in an instant, and your hands are in his hair, tugging at his waves as he nips and sucks at your lips, bruising them.

“Y/n…” he groans. His voice dripping with lust, brows knitted as he struggles to catch his breath.

You look up at the merman. He looks positively ruined. His shirt is in disarray, hair standing up in a hundred different directions, lips swollen. And his eyes, there’s a storm brewing behind them, having darkened considerably.

You’ve never seen him like this. Rafayel’s always been playful, using his humor as a front to his true feelings, always keeping you at arms length.

But right now, he feels so raw. Trusting you with his deepest desires as they erupt to the surface.

Seeing him like this, so open, so vulnerable makes heat pool between your legs. You want him, God no you need him. So you crash your lips onto his with fervor, matching his frenzy with new determination.

Rafayel is loud. He doesn’t hold back, reacting to every press of lips, every pull of hair, grinding himself against you to relieve at least some of the tension built up in his pants.

His tongue is swiping at your bottom lip, begging for permission which you grant without hesitation. It’s wet and messy, one hand kneading your thigh, the other playing with the button of your jeans.

It’s all a well choreographed dance then, motions you’ve been through many times. But somehow this moment feels different, a tangible electricity in the air. You have a feeling the Lemurian isn’t going to let you go until he’s had his fill of you.

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mononijikayu · 4 months ago

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you belong with me — nanami kento.

"Hi….I’m Kento."

“Kento, huh.” you said, testing the name again like you were rolling it around in your head, trying to get the feel of it. After a moment, you nodded, satisfied.

“Yeah, that’s my name.”

“That’s a good name.” You declared it with the authority of a five-year-old who had decided someone was officially worth their time.

“Your name’s okay too... I guess,” Kento replied, his tone so nonchalant it was almost teasing.

GENRE: alternate universe - no curses au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, romance, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, p to v sex, car sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (my love, etc), possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, best friend! nanami kento, best friend! reader;

WORD COUNT: 14k words.

NOTE: hello everyone, this is the final fic for 2024!!! wah, there's a lot to say. first and foremost, this fic would not be possible if it wasn't for the lovely person who commissioned it from me awhile back. please give them a lot of love and a lot of thanks.

they were my first ever commission here and still it flutters my heart with joy to have worked them. they were so good to me and continues to do so, with how they want to share this fic with you too.

also, i want to thank you all for sticking with me this 2024. it was a long road and a really painful time. i wrote to escape these painful times and i got through 2024 with you guys, just enjoying stories in my head. so thank you!!! there were a lot and there are still a lot i haven't published here.

i hope we continue to be together in 2025 too. i'll continue to write for both of us, to have solace in hard times. i bow to you in all ways that i can. thank you for being good to me!!! i love you all. this is kayu signing off for 2024. please have a lovely and wonderful new year and i'll see you on january 2025 <33333

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

══════════════════

EVEN AS A CHILD, YOU THOUGHT THAT HE BELONGED TO YOU. It was a childish little thing, you knew that much. But the moment you met Nanami Kento at the park when you were five years old, you just knew he was going to be your best friend.

And no one else could claim that from you. It wasn’t something you decided after a long debate in your head. If anything, it was instinctive, instant, like the way a flower turns toward the sun. What surprised you even more was that he didn’t seem to mind it.

That day, Nanami Kento was sitting on the swings, looking unusually serious for a kid. His little legs dangled, barely brushing the ground, and he rocked back and forth so slightly it was as if he wasn’t even moving. It was odd.

Most kids treated the swings like they were flying machines, pumping their legs wildly, laughing as they soared. But not Kento. He just sat there, his small hands gripping the chains, his gaze fixed on the ground as though it held all the answers to the universe.

It wasn’t sadness—not exactly. He didn’t look miserable or lonely. No, it was more like he was... satisfied. Content in his little bubble of silence, where the noise of the playground seemed to slide right past him.

You, however, were not content with his quiet. What could a kid possibly have to think about so deeply? Why wasn’t he running around, chasing someone, or shouting nonsense with the other kids? How could he stomach sitting there alone for so long?

The questions buzzed in your head, but more than that, you felt a pull. You wanted to know him. You wanted him to talk to you, to share whatever thoughts were hiding behind those serious brown eyes. And if he wouldn’t come to you, well, that was fine. You’d go to him.

You had the kind of confidence that only comes from being five years old and utterly fearless. The kind of confidence that didn’t know rejection or hesitation, only the certainty that the world would say "yes" if you asked it nicely enough.

So, you marched right up to him, your pigtails bouncing with each determined step. You put on your brightest smile, the kind of smile that has always gotten adults to bend down and coo. “Aren’t you just the sweetest?”

"Hi!" you announced, planting yourself firmly in front of him like he had no choice but to acknowledge you. You told him your name, grinning at him.

He blinked, startled out of his deep, secured thoughts to the sight of you. It took a while, but he lifted his caramel gaze to meet yours. For a moment, he just looked at you, like he wasn’t sure if you were real. No one has ever approached him before, well not as brazenly as this. Then, finally, he answered you back.

"Hi….I’m Kento."

“Kento, huh.” you said, testing the name again like you were rolling it around in your head, trying to get the feel of it. After a moment, you nodded, satisfied.

“Yeah, that’s my name.”

“That’s a good name.” You declared it with the authority of a five-year-old who had decided someone was officially worth their time.

“Your name’s okay too... I guess,” Kento replied, his tone so nonchalant it was almost teasing.

“Huh? It’s pretty!” you retorted, your hands flying to your hips, a slight pout settling on your lips. “My mom thought hard about it, you know!”

“So did mine.” Kento shot back, a flicker of mischief lighting his normally serious face. Then, in a tone that was just a little too smug, he added, “It’s a good name too.”

For a second, you just stared at him, caught off guard by the slyness in his tone. Then, to your own surprise, you burst out laughing. It wasn’t just the words that got to you—it was the way he said them, so calm and deliberate, like he was throwing you a challenge wrapped in politeness.

“You’re funny, you know that?” you decided, grinning widely.

Kento raised an eyebrow at that, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smile. “I wasn’t trying to be.”

“Well, you are.” you said firmly, as though your opinion was final. “So, Kento, what do you wanna do? We could swing, or climb the jungle gym, or—oh! We could build a sandcastle!”

He blinked, caught off guard by your rapid-fire suggestions. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, like he wasn’t used to making decisions for playtime.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand without a second thought. “Then we’re doing the sandcastle! Come on, you’re gonna love it.”

He let you pull him along, his steps falling into rhythm with yours. “What if I don’t?” he asked, his voice so soft you almost missed the challenge in it.

“You will!” you said confidently, already imagining the crooked towers you’d build together. “Because I said so.”

Nanami Kento didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a quiet laugh, the sound so small you might’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention. But you were paying attention, because something about this boy made you want to see every little detail he kept hidden in that quiet bubble of his.

From that moment, Kento Nanami became yours.

He knew that just as much as you did, even then.

And he was certain you were just as much his from then.

It wasn’t long into your days of playdates before you started staking your claim. You didn’t mean to—well, maybe you did. That really didn’t matter. What mattered was that you and Kento were having fun. Like the time some other kids approached while you and Kento were hard at work in the sandbox, trying to make your castle less crooked.

"Hey, kid!" one of them called, pointing at the little shovel in Kento’s hands. "Can I borrow that?"

"No way." you said firmly before Kento could even open his mouth. You shot the kid a look that clearly said back off. "We’re using it."

"But—"

"Nope. Sorry. It’s ours to play with." you cut them off, turning back to your castle as if the conversation was over. "Right, Kento?"

Kento hesitated for a second, glancing between you and the other kid, before quietly nodding. "Right."

The other kids' faces were filled with harsh looks at what you said. But you didn’t care. All they could do was huff and puff until they were blue in the face. You would never budge, not even if they wanted you too.

You were a tough girl. And you always got what you wanted. And you wanted your new friend and his attention only on you. So you didn't care what you did. You’ll keep your friend, no matter what they want.

Soon enough, they gave in and went to wander off. You can only smile. You didn’t feel the slightest bit bad. If anything, you had wished that they had left much sooner.

You turned to Kento with a satisfied smile. "Good. They’d just mess it up anyway. It’s better if we play together, only us!"

Kento tilted his head, watching you with that quiet curiosity he always seemed to have. You seemed to be content about playing just by yourself, by his side. Not many kids seem to be content about wanting to do that at all.

"Why don’t you let other kids play with us?" he asked.

You looked at him like the answer should’ve been obvious. "Because you’re my friend. I found you first. That means you’re mine."

For a moment, he just stared at you.

Then, slowly, that tiny, barely-there smile returned.

"Okay." he said simply, like he didn’t mind one bit.

══════════════════

YEARS DRAGGED ON IN A FLASH FOR BOTH OF YOU. From that day forward, Nanami Kento was your shadow. Or maybe you were his—it often depended on who was asking and whose ego needed inflating at the moment.

But that was just how it was between the two of you. And you were content about how that goes. You knew he was just the same. Not because you went around declaring it (okay, maybe you did once or twice), but because your actions left no room for doubt.

The two of you were inseparable, and everyone knew it. In a way, both your parents were both glad and concerned about it. Glad that you both were in each other’s lives, nurturing and caring for each other. That means you both weren’t lonely, and you both were happily playing with each other day in and out of school.

But concerned that you weren’t letting each other find any other people in your lives and explore other friendships. But that hardly mattered to the two of you. Both of you didn’t budge. You didn’t need anyone else. If anything, you only need each other. You were both content with that.

If there was a school project, Nanami Kento was your partner. No debates, no negotiation. You made sure of it every single time. It got to the point where teachers didn’t even bother asking anymore. By third grade, the class roster might as well have been printed with your name and his own written in bold under "Partners" for every project.

“Do you guys ever work with anyone else?” a classmate once dared to ask.

“Why would we?” you replied, looking genuinely puzzled. “He’s the best at making the physical parts.I don’t need anyone else.”

Kento, standing beside you, simply shrugged. “She’s good at explaining the messy, hard parts.” he said, so matter-of-factly it left no room for argument.

At lunch, it was no different. You always saved him a spot, waving him over like a VIP guest being ushered past the velvet rope. And no one dared sit with the two of you. Not after The Incident.

There was one time where a new kid made the mistake of sliding into the seat next to Nanami Kento before he got there. You didn’t even hesitate to act as quickly as you could.

“Excuse me, new kid.” you said, your voice sugary sweet, but your eyes narrowing dangerously.

“What?” the kid asked, glancing up at you.

“That’s his seat.” You pointed toward Kento, who was still in the lunch line, entirely oblivious to the showdown brewing at the table.

“Seats are for everyone in the school.” the kid said, with all the defiance of someone who didn’t know better yet. “I can sit wherever I want.”

And that’s when you did it. You reached out and swatted their hand as they tried to open their milk carton. You glared at him, almost as cold as the North Pole. He gulped at your glare. You were terrifying for a middle schooler.

“Go. Somewhere. Else.” you said, every word punctuated with a glare that could have sent a grown man packing. “That’s HIS seat!”

The new kid was terrified and immediately scurried off, muttering something about "territorial weirdos." — that was another thing for the school to whisper about in their past time. But you didn’t care.

By the time that he got out of the boy’s toilets, Nanami Kento got to the table, his spot was as clear as always, and you were already peeling the wrapper off the sandwich your mom made for him like nothing had happened.

“Thanks.” he said, sitting down without even asking why the kid from earlier was now eating on the other side of the cafeteria. He saw that of course. But he didn’t dare ask. “Thank your mom for me, about the sandwich.”

“You’re welcome.” you replied, sliding his sandwich over to him. You smiled as he opened his own lunch bag and started to pull out chocolate pudding in a tupperware. “Ohhhh, your mom thought of dessert!”

“Hm, I asked her.” Kento retorts back to you, smiling softly at your excitement. “Since you like chocolate pudding.”

“Thank your mama for me, okay?”

“Hm, I will.”

But of course, your protectiveness didn’t stop at lunch seats. If anything, you were protective of him to the point that it was already insane. If anyone so much as thought about teasing him, you were on them like a hawk. It didn’t matter if it was a stupid nickname or a poorly aimed joke. Nanami Kento wasn’t going to deal with any of it, not on your watch.

“Hey, Kento, why are you so quiet all the time?” one boy snickered during recess, his tone dripping with mockery.

Before Kento could even respond, you were already there, hands on your hips and glaring like you were ready to call down the wrath of the heavens. You glared at the kid as though he was meeting to face a thousand suns.

“Maybe he’s quiet because he doesn’t waste time saying dumb things like you do.” you snapped, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow for maximum effect. “Stop being a weird waste of space and leave him alone, you freak!”

The boy tried to stammer something in response, but you didn’t wait to hear it. You didn’t care for what they said. Only for what Kento says. You rolled your eyes at the kid, as though he bored you and looked away. Soon enough, you turned back to Kento, your expression softening immediately.

“Come on, Kento.” you said, grabbing his hand. “We’re going to the swings.”

Kento didn’t say much about that. But later, when that same boy made a malicious face at you from across the playground and had made a plan to chase you with a bottle of water to throw, Nanami Kento was the first to sense a threat against you.

He sighed heavily and without even looking up from his picture book muttered just loud enough for you to hear. “She’s faster than you, you know? She would wet your hair and make fun of you for it. So, I wouldn’t try it.”

The boy stayed far away after that.

And you could only giggle at what he said.

Nanami Kento knew you all too well.

But just as much as you were ready to fight Nanami Kento’s battles, he was ready to fight yours. And while you often took on challenges with the energy of a charging bull, Kento’s approach was quieter, deadlier—like a knife slipping between ribs before anyone even noticed it was there. He was just that type of kid, you think.

You first realized just how far Kento was willing to go for you one day when a group of older girls decided to target your ponytails. It wasn’t a big deal to you at first; you were used to the occasional teasing. But this time, something about their tone, or maybe the way they crowded around, everything about it had made your stomach twist.

“Why do you always look like you just rolled out of bed?” one of them sneered, her voice dripping with faux innocence.

Her friends burst into laughter, as if she’d just delivered the punchline of the century. You bristled, the words forming on your tongue to snap back. But before you could speak, Kento appeared, slipping between you and the girls like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Why do you care?” he asked, his tone calm, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

It was such a simple question, but somehow it silenced the entire group. The girl blinked at him, thrown off by his directness. Kento yawned, as though he was already bored with her. She had never expected anything from him. Kento was quiet and reserved.

He was also popular and quite a handsome young boy that people had a crush on. Even when he didn’t talk or pay any mind to any of them. You glared at this girl, as though she was the worst of them all. She’s always been trying to take Kento from you.

“Uh, excuse me?” she said, attempting to regain her composure.

“You heard me.” Kento’s gaze was steady, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was an edge to his voice that made it clear he wasn’t messing around. “Why do you care what she looks like? Or are you just bored?”

The giggling stopped.

“Well, I—” The girl floundered, her cheeks turning pink.

“She looks fine to me.” Kento interrupted smoothly, tilting his head slightly as if he were assessing them. “Better than you, anyway. I mean, those pants with that shirt? What are you thinking? Does your mom even love you if she allows you to wear something like that?”

You could’ve heard a pin drop at what he had said. You look at him, blinkingly. Before finding yourself bellowing at laughter at how blunt he had worked everything. The girls gasped, their mouths falling open in perfect synchronization. One of them muttered something about “rude boys” and then, just like that, they were gone, retreating with their tails between their legs.

You stood there, stunned, as Kento turned back to you like nothing had happened. You finally straightened yourself from your laughing form. You wiped your eyes as you turned back at him. You grinned at his words.

“Better than her?” you repeated later as the two of you walked back to class. You were trying not to laugh, but the corners of your mouth kept twitching upward.

“It’s true. You already know that.” he said simply, not bothering to look up from the book he’d already opened, as if the whole thing hadn’t even fazed him.

“Aw, you think I’m cute, don’t you?” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

“Don’t push it.” he replied dryly, but the tiny smirk playing at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

══════════════════

BUT OF COURSE, THIS ONLY INTENSIFIED ONCE YOU BOTH GREW OLDER. Entering this new environment, in high school — one could say nothing had ever changed. If anything, it has only grown more concrete that you and Nanami Kento, no one can separate the two of you even if they tried.

If one were to describe how you both were, it would be like being a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Inseparable. And even when people questioned it, you turned them down just as easily. Little by little, people barely questioned it anymore.

You had long since reached the point where your friendship was so solid that it seemed like a fact of life. If anyone tried to ask about it, the answer was already clear: You two were a package deal. And while you liked it that way, not everyone seemed to get the memo.

It didn’t take long for the attention to roll in once high school started. You were used to it by now. After all, you and Kento had always been a pair of conspicuously close friends, so naturally, people were curious.

But this was a different kind of curiosity, the kind that came with stares and whispers behind your backs. Everyone seemed to have suddenly developed a keen interest in your best friend, and you couldn’t decide if it was because of his brooding good looks or that deep, mysterious aura he carried, but maybe, probably both.

It started with the girls, as it usually did. They would hover around Kento in class, a little too eager to engage in conversations about anything—his favorite books, his thoughts on the weather, even the random things he’d written in the margins of his notes. It didn’t matter what they brought up; they were just looking for an excuse to get a reaction out of him.

They wanted to be the one to crack the mystery that was Nanami Kento. And of course, they expected him to open up, to smile, to laugh, to do something that would confirm they were special enough to make him forget his usual quiet, studious demeanor.

But Kento, being the stoic, no-nonsense guy he was, would respond with quiet politeness, barely even registering their presence. He would tilt his head slightly when they asked questions, look at them through the edge of his glasses, and give just enough of an answer to keep things from getting awkward.

The girls would often stare at him a little longer than necessary, hoping for a second of warmth or acknowledgment. But no matter how many times they tried, all they got was that polite, impersonal smile that didn’t reach his eyes. And it wasn’t that he didn’t care; it was just that he didn’t care about them, not in the way they wanted.

To Nanami Kento, it was all just noise. So, he’d just keep his focus on what mattered, which was probably the latest algebra problem or his ongoing internal monologue about the best way to prepare his next snack.

Even as an emo guy with that black hoodie, messy blond hair, brooding eyes that screamed ‘don’t talk to me, but if you do, be prepared for my sarcasm’—people still flocked to him. It was almost unfair, you thought. He had this combination of boy-next-door charm and detached, almost tragic mystique that girls couldn’t resist.

He was a pretty boy, you knew that much. You’d known him long enough to appreciate the way his eyes glinted in the sunlight, how his messy hair always looked effortlessly perfect, how he somehow made a monotone voice sound like the most hypnotic thing in the room.

And it wasn’t just the girls, either. The guys were starting to notice, too. Sure, they didn’t hover the same way, but they’d get a little too chatty when Kento was around, laughing a little too hard at his dry jokes, trying just a bit too hard to be friendly.

Everyone knew he wasn’t the type to just buddy up with anyone, and that mystery only made him more desirable. So when they’d get too close, you’d notice the slight twitch of Kento’s eyebrow, the way he’d lean just a little bit further away to make it clear that he was not interested in their company.

But the one thing you didn’t doubt was this: Kento was really polite. He never outright rejected anyone, and that politeness was a plus. Sure, it drove you a little crazy when they’d swarm him like bees to honey.

But you had to admit that his politeness was a rare commodity in a world where most people had no issue turning someone down rudely or making them feel uncomfortable. Kento didn’t do that. He’d simply nod back at people and get back to whatever it was he was doing, never making a fuss about the attention.

Well, it was better than over half the school, that’s for sure. You’d seen the way people treated each other, cold and snide, brushing off others without so much as a second thought. Kento was a rare gem in that regard. He was a gentleman, even in the face of all the attention he was getting, and that made it all the more frustrating.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want people to admire him; you just didn’t like the thought of anyone thinking they could replace you. You and Kento had this bond, a strong one, one that didn’t need words to be understood. But here was the thing—everyone else didn’t get it. And that was where the fun (and by fun, you mean sneaky sabotage) began.

After all, who else could say they knew all his little quirks? Who else had shared so many quiet lunches under that same oak tree, or been the one to force him to eat a full meal instead of staring at his book? You were his best friend, and that meant you had a certain, special claim on him, no matter how many girls wanted to make themselves part of his world.

But, like the selfless best friend you were, you’d keep that fact under wraps. No one needed to know you had a stake in him—especially when you were also the one helping him avoid the chaos of all his newfound admirers. Let them keep fighting over who could be the one to crack Kento's cold exterior; you'd be the one to keep it safe.

But that wasn’t enough. No, they wanted more. They wanted to peel back the layers, crack open that cool exterior, and find whatever hidden treasure lay beneath. And that was where you came in. That’s where you always have to come in. He was your best friend, after all.

It wasn’t that you hated the attention Kento was getting, but it was yours, wasn’t it? You didn’t want anyone to think they could just stroll up and waltz into the little bubble you and Kento had created. And you know he agreed. He doesn’t really need anyone else, he’s said that to you numerous times.

So naturally, you and Kento found creative ways to sabotage any admirer who dared to get too close. It wasn’t malicious, exactly. Well, not to you or Kento. it was more like you were just “protecting” him, and, on occasion, he did the same for you.

It started with the simple things. You'd hover near him during lunch, casually tossing your snacks at him in a way that made it obvious you didn’t want him interacting too much with anyone else. It was like a game of cat-and-mouse between the two of you. Both of you pretended you weren’t doing it, but everyone knew exactly what you were up to.

For example, when this girl from the other class named Yuki asked to sit with Kento one day during lunch time, you quickly swooped in, plopping down next to him like you were the most important thing in his world. You grinned at him and he hummed.

“Hey, Kentooooo!” you said, dropping your lunch tray in front of him. “Did you get those history notes I gave you this morning?”

Yuki opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, you continued to talk to him with a brighter grin. You nonchalantly handed your strawberry milk carton to him and he started to open it for you with the same amount of cool.

“I was thinking of making brownies this weekend. You like chocolate, right? The ones that we used to buy at the mart? It hasn’t changed, right?” You sent her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I know it's probably too sweet, but it’s his favorite.”

Kento nodded back at you as he placed your strawberry milk carton on the side. You thanked him happily as you started to drink with happy sounds. Kento simply looked at Yuki with the politest expression he could muster and muttered back at her.

“Sorry, I’ve got a study group with her after school. Maybe next time.”

Yuki didn’t even bother trying to argue, just nodding stiffly before retreating. You shot Kento a quick grin, but before you could say anything, he just sighed and went back to his book.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” he muttered under his breath. “Could have handled that myself.”

“But I have to. You know that.” you said with a grin, popping a piece of fruit into your mouth. “You’re my best friend, not hers.”

One day at lunch, as you and Kento sat under the shade of the old oak tree, munching on your usual snacks, a girl named Mia from your history class walked by. She glanced at Kento, then at you, then back at Kento, before finally stopping a few feet away.

"Hey, Kento!" she called, her voice way too sweet for your liking. “Mind if I join you guys?”

You didn’t even have to look up from your crackers. “Sure, but he doesn’t bite.” you said, not even looking at Mia. “I mean, I don’t think so...”

Kento, who had been engrossed in a textbook the size of a brick, glanced up at you before looking back at Mia. "I can sit alone, you know." he said, a little too casually, not even bothering to hide the fact that he didn’t care much for the attention.

Mia, undeterred, tried again. “Are you sure? I heard you like this band, too. Maybe we could—”

But before she could finish her sentence, you leaned forward, dropping a half-eaten cracker dramatically into your lap as if to make your point clear.

"If you want to talk about music, you’re gonna have to take it up with me right now, okay?" you declared, giving her your best “this is my turf” look. "Kento here’s more into his book right now, not whatever band you think you have in common with him."

Kento blinked slowly, clearly trying to figure out why he was being pulled into this, but didn't argue. He just glanced at you and nodded, an expression you knew meant, I’m not getting involved in this one.

Mia looked between you and Kento, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Okay, fine.” she muttered before turning around and walking off, her face flushed red.

"Good job, hero," Kento muttered under his breath, voice dry.

You smirked at him. "You’re welcome, sunshine."

Of course, it wasn’t like you were the only one who was possessive. Nanami Kento hated that you were constantly getting hit on. It drove him absolutely insane. Apparently, teenage boys had this ridiculous notion that your consistent rejections made you more appealing. The more you turned them down, the more determined they became, like you were some kind of prize to be won.

Nanami Kento of course, naturally, found this logic baffling—and irritating. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you to handle yourself; he absolutely did. He hated everyone else, maybe most of all the men around him and of course — you.

But watching those guys swarm around you, trying to impress you with their lame jokes or over-the-top compliments, made his jaw tighten and his grip on his pen just a little too firm. Oh, he hated men even more like that. And, well, Kento was never one to sit back and let something annoy him for too long. Not when it comes to you.

But of course, there are things that come as unexpected too.

Maybe it was because Nanami Kento was too perceptive.

Maybe he was just good at dissecting situations happening.

He doesn’t know how this happened, or how this came to pass.

But today would change his life for good, that was certain.

A week after one particularly bold senior cornered you after class to “ask for your number” Kento decided to return the favor—not with dramatics, of course, but with his usual understated, calm assertiveness.

You were sitting in the library, animatedly telling Kento about your latest sketch. It was a concept you were certain would win the upcoming art contest. He was actually paying attention, nodding slightly as you explained your technique, when suddenly, a guy from the senior class decided to interrupt.

“Hey, you’re the girl who draws, right?” the senior asked, leaning against the edge of the table with a grin that screamed overconfident.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah, that’s me.”

“Well,” he continued, practically oozing smugness, “I was thinking, maybe you’d want to collaborate on some sketches sometime. You know, we could—”

Before he could finish whatever weak line he’d rehearsed, Kento smoothly slid into the seat beside you, his broad shoulders cutting off your view of the guy. He didn’t even spare him a glance. Instead, he turned to you, his voice calm but laced with just enough edge to make his point.

“I’m pretty sure sketching is a solitary activity.” Kento said matter-of-factly. “You know, for concentration… unless, of course, you want a distraction?”

The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Kento’s sudden presence. “Uh, no, I—”

Kento didn’t let him finish. “You know….” he continued, still not looking at the guy. “It’s actually better if you’re alone when you’re working. Less… interruptions.”

He then picked up your sketchbook, flipping through it with the kind of casual indifference that somehow made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere. Your jaw dropped at what he’s done.He’s silly like this sometimes, you think to yourself.

“Kento!” you half-laughed, half-scolded, reaching for your sketchbook. “That’s my sketchbook!”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” he replied nonchalantly, not even pretending to give it back. His attention wasn’t on your sketches anymore, though. His eyes were fixed on the poor senior, who was now fidgeting uncomfortably under Kento’s unnervingly calm stare.

“Do you mind?” Kento said coolly. “She’s busy.”

The guy stammered something unintelligible, his confidence evaporating faster than a spilled soda in the sun. “Uh… yeah, maybe another time, I guess.” he mumbled before slinking off, clearly realizing he was no match for Nanami Kento’s level of subtle intimidation.

Once the guy was gone, you turned back to Kento, crossing your arms with a mix of exasperation and amusement. You giggled to yourself for a moment. He sighed, looking at how amused you were. It was always like this with you, getting giddy when he does things like this.

“Nice one, Kento.” you said, smirking. “You do know I could have handled that, right?”

Kento raised an eyebrow, setting your sketchbook back down and leaning back in his chair like nothing had happened. You take it back from him, giving him a small thanks. He couldn’t stop looking at you. But when you looked up again, he'd already looked away.

“Sure.” he said, his lips curling into that faint, almost-smile of his. “But it looked like you were busy… talking to him.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting his arm. “What was that even about? You’re not my bodyguard, you know.”

“I wasn’t being a bodyguard.” he replied, his tone annoyingly calm. “I was just... pointing out how distracting he was being.”

“Right, right.” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “And that had nothing to do with you hating that he interrupted us?”

Kento didn’t answer right away, but the way his eyes flickered with quiet amusement gave him away. He never likes admitting it out loud, but he feels glad. He feels glad when he makes sure you both are alone. You were all he needed after all.

“Maybe.” he finally admitted, his voice as casual as ever. “Or maybe I just wanted to look at your sketchbook.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you talk too much.” he countered, eyes shining softly against your own.

You giggled back at him, your lips smiling beautifully at him. Beautifully more than ever before. “But you like it that way, don’t you?”

Huh, what was that? He thought to himself.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

Was that his heart beating like that just now?

For a moment, he stops and looks at you. You were unaware about what happened just now. Instead, you were back on your sketching, humming to some song you were obsessed with right now. Kento swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of how he was looking at you. He cleared his throat.

“We should get going.” he said finally, his voice a little quieter than usual. “The library closes soon.”

You nodded, falling into step beside him as you always did. But as you walked, Kento couldn’t help sneaking a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. He’d always thought of himself as someone who was good at keeping his emotions in check, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Is this what it feels like? Kento wondered as he watched you walk off in front of him.

He stops. He takes in the sight of you. You were laughing, hopping on the tiles one by one. The sun glows behind you like a beacon leading him to the direction of life. You nearly fell, making him jump forward. But you held your balance.

And then you laughed. Laughed so beautifully that he doesn’t know what to do. He could feel every fiber of him turning warm, warmer and redder than ever before. His heart beating out of rhythm again.

Ah, shit. Kento once more thinks to himself. I’m screwed.

══════════════════

HE DOESN’T THINK TO SAY ANYTHING. How could he, when he’s scared about the outcome? But as the time flew by as fast as it could, he knew he can’t keep being a coward about it. He had to say something. He should do it soon.

It was going to come out anyway. College was looming on both your shoulders. And with that, a lot of uncertainty came. If he says something, at the very least there would be something certain, concrete as your friendship.

The two of you sat cross-legged on the floor of Kento’s family home, a single bottle of sake between you. Neither of you had much experience with alcohol, but the thrill of being eighteen and toeing the line of rebellion was too tempting to resist.

Kento poured carefully into the mismatched cups you'd found in his cupboard, his movements precise, even in the low light.

"Cheers, cheers!" you yell with that bright eyed grin, raising your cup to him.

"To...?" he asked, his brow arching slightly, always wanting things to have a purpose.

"To us!" you said simply, eyes sparkling with mischief.

He hesitated, his breath catching in his chest, before clicking his cup against yours. "To us."

The first sip was sharp, burning its way down, but it wasn’t long before the alcohol began to work its magic with swift effectivity. You laughed more freely, leaning closer to him, and your words came faster, your thoughts unfiltered.

"You know, Kentooooo." you said, poking his shoulder with a pout. "You’re, like, ridiculously handsome, right?"

Kento froze mid-sip, his ears instantly turning as pink as your sweater. "W–what?"

"I mean it! You’re so... ugh…." you groaned, tossing your head back dramatically. "How am I supposed to focus when you look at me like that?"

"Like what?" he asked, his voice soft, betraying the nervous flutter in his chest.

"Like you’re trying not to smile, but your eyes are giving you away." you teased, your grin widening as you poked his cheek this time.

Nanami Kento could feel his heart pounding so loud he was sure you could hear it. Every word you spoke chipped away at his usual composure, and he could feel himself unraveling under the weight of your drunken admiration. In just this moment, you wholly outwit him. You make him come undone. Only you can have that effect on him. Only you.

"You’re unbelievable, you know that?" he muttered, trying to look away, but you caught his chin, turning his face back to yours.

"Admit it already, won’t you?" you said, your voice lower now, but no less playful. "You like me. Maybe even a little too much."

Kento stared at you, the world blurring slightly around the edges, whether from the alcohol or the way you were looking at him, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to do it like this. He didn’t want to put up his hopes that you would be sober enough to know the truth. Or for you to have sober truths pouring out of your sharp grinning lips.

"I think…" he began, his voice steady but his heart anything but.

“You think?”

"I’m falling for you. More and more. Every second."

You blinked at what had just shifted in the air, your teasing expression softening as you processed his words. Then, to his surprise, you smiled—not mischievously this time, but gently, sweetly. Full with a merry drink, you smiled.

"Good." you whispered, leaning in so close he could smell the faint sweetness of the sake on your breath. "You said really good words.”

Kento barely had time to breathe before you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, leaving his face on fire and his heart completely, utterly yours. Kento froze, the warmth of your lips lingering on his cheek like a brand. His breath hitched as your words sank into the alcohol-drenched air between you.

“I think I’m already there.”

He stared at you, his usually composed mind now an unsteady swirl of emotions—exhilaration, disbelief, and a flicker of hesitation. Your gaze was soft, dreamy, and undeniably sincere, but the alcohol in your system clouded everything. He said it out loud. But are you sure? How could you be, with how merry the drink is in your belly?

"You don’t mean that." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as though saying it too loud would shatter the fragile moment.

"I do. I do." you said, your expression serious despite the light flush of intoxication on your cheeks. You reached for his hand, holding it with a gentle firmness that made his heart stumble in its rhythm.

Kento's fingers curled instinctively around yours before he could stop himself, but his grip was careful, steady. "You're drunk. I just…you can’t say that drunk." he pointed out, his voice more tender than reprimanding.

You frowned, tilting your head like you were trying to understand him through the haze. "So? That doesn’t mean it’s not true."

He sighed, looking down at your joined hands. He wanted so desperately to believe you, to let his heart leap completely into your words, but his rational side, his ever-present voice of reason. It held him back.

"It matters. It matters to me." he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly. "If you mean it, I need to hear it when you’re sober. When you’re sure."

"But I am sure, Kento." you insisted, leaning closer, your warmth almost overwhelming him. Your free hand reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, and he felt the breath leave his lungs in a rush.

Kento shook his head, his smile faint but aching with restraint. "Not like this." he murmured. "You’ll wake up tomorrow and—"

"And what? Pretend this didn’t happen?" you interrupted, your brows knitting together. "Do you think I’d forget how much I lo—"

His hand shifted, gently pressing a single finger to your lips to quiet you, though it was more for his sake than yours. He wasn’t sure he could take it, hearing those words from you while your judgment was fogged.

"Stop. Please." he said, his voice barely steady. "Don’t say it now. Not tonight."

Your eyes searched hisfrustration flickering in their depths before softening. You saw the way his shoulders tensed, the way he looked at you like he was holding back an ocean of feelings.

"You're such a romantic, aren’t you?" you murmured, a teasing lilt to your voice as a lazy smile spread across your face.

He gave a quiet chuckle, his fingers brushing against your cheek now without realizing it. "Maybe." he admitted, his tone gentler than ever. "But I want this—want us—to start right. I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me again."

You let out a small sigh but didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned into his touch, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as your eyelids grew heavy. You always liked this, taking in his warmth. You don’t think there was any other place you belonged in but his arms.

If you were being honest, you were afraid. He was right. Your words could mean something, and maybe it wouldn’t be as clear as his own. You were drunk. You were really drunk. And feels hazy in your head. It wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair to your Kento. Not like this.

"Fine." you murmured, your words slurring slightly. "But you’d better be ready for me to say it a hundred times tomorrow. Maybe a thousand."

Kento chuckled again, the sound low and warm in his chest, as he rested his chin lightly on top of your head. "I’ll be ready." he promised, even as his own heart thudded wildly at the thought. “I’m always waiting for you. Always.”

And as you drifted off, still clutching his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, Kento silently vowed to himself: when the time came, he’d tell you how deeply, how completely he felt for you too. He just needed to be sure you knew what it meant.

The morning after that night, you woke up on Kento's couch, the faint remnants of sake lingering in the air. Your head throbbed lightly, and your memories were fuzzy around the edges. Kento, ever thoughtful, had left a glass of water and some aspirin on the table beside you.

"Rough night?" he asked from the kitchen, his voice steady but carefully neutral as he busied himself making coffee.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "What did I even say last night? I barely remember anything."

He hesitated, his hand tightening briefly on the handle of the coffee pot. He looked over at you, your half-asleep face free of the weight of your drunken confessions. For a moment, he considered saying something, but the words got caught in his throat.

"Nothing too embarrassing," he said instead, forcing a faint smile.

You laughed, your cheeks reddening slightly. "Good. I’d hate to think I made a fool of myself in front of you."

Kento gave a small nod, but his heart felt heavy. You didn’t remember, and he couldn’t bring himself to remind you. Not like this. So, he lets himself break apart. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t let you have guilt. Because if he did, how is that loving you?

So Nanami Kento buried those words, locking them away where they couldn’t touch the fragile balance between you. He told himself it was better this way. But he hopes, maybe one day — just one day. You’ll see him too. Sober with your love for him.

══════════════════

THINGS DID CHANGE A BIT WHEN YOU WENT TO COLLEGE. Of course, you both got into the same university. But there’s a rough difference between not only being in different departments, but also being in different campuses. It was a rough travel back and forth. But Nanami Kento was determined to go and visit you.

You often feel a little bad when you look back on those days. Engineering classes were no joke. Too many long hours, grueling projects, and the constant pressure to keep up left you drained most of the time.

You barely had the energy to go out, even when you wanted to. But Kento never minded. He understood in the quiet, steady way that only he could, and instead of waiting for you to have time, he made sure to visit you instead.

It didn’t matter where for him. Whether it was the bustling campus lunch hall, where the two of you would share a plate of something warm while you tried to finish an assignment, or your dorm room, which was always a little messy with textbooks and half-drunk cups of coffee.

What mattered to him wasn’t the place or even what you were doing. What mattered was just being with you.

And that thought? It never fails to make your heart skip a beat. Even now, after everything, it feels just as special as it did back then. You still held dearest to him after all this time. Ever since you were kids, you were his everything. And you were sure, more than ever now, that he was yours too. In all sense of the word.

It’s been a year and a half since that time, since you confessed to Kento. Well, technically, drunk you confessed to him. It was late, and you’d had just enough to drink to make your heart bolder than your brain. You didn’t want to say a word. And you think that Kento was just as much waiting for you to say something.

You were ready to die of embarrassment when you remembered that you had said that. But then you remembered, with just as much horror and embarrassment — he’d confessed too. With that same calm sincerity, he told you he’d felt the same way for a while.

Looking back, it was a little messy, maybe even a lot embarrassing. But it was also sweet, earnest, and so perfect for you two. And honestly? You wouldn’t change a thing. You had said something that clarified things for you.

After all, that drunken confession was the start of something that would make all the challenges of those days worth it, every late-night study session, every coffee-fueled conversation, every stolen moment in between. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.

You were falling for Kento more and more every day, and it was starting to feel like a problem. A big problem. How were you supposed to act normal around him when everything he did—from the way he fixed his tie to the way he said your name—made your heart do backflips?

It wasn’t fair, really. How was it possible that the same person who once laughed so hard he choked on a piece of rice during lunch was also the one making you reconsider your entire perception of love? He was your best friend, and now you couldn’t even look at him without overthinking every little thing.

And to make matters worse, he was visiting you today.

You had approximately 15 minutes to get your life together before Kento arrived, which was nowhere near enough time to deal with the tornado that was your dorm room or the emotional hurricane swirling inside you.

“Okay, okay, calm your tits.” you muttered to yourself, grabbing stray socks off the floor. “Just play it cool. It’s just Kento. You know him best. Real well. He’s been here a million times. No big deal. Totally normal.”

You shoved a pile of notebooks into your desk drawer, praying it wouldn’t jam, and quickly rearranged the pillows on your bed. By the time you heard the knock at your door, your dorm was passable, well barely. And you were mostly sure you didn’t look like a total disaster.

When you opened the door, there he was, Nanami Kento in all of his huge handsome stature, standing there with his usual calm demeanor, holding a bag of snacks. You yelped quietly as you looked at him. Your roommates must have let him inside.

“Thought you might need these.” he said, giving you one of those small, knowing smiles that made your brain short-circuit.

You blinked at him. “Nanami Kento, are you a psychic?”

He raised an eyebrow. “No, but you texted me at 2 AM complaining about running out of your favorite chips, so I figured this might help. You still have some paperwork to do, right? And you won’t eat unless I come by to remind you. So, I got it.”

“Oh.” You tried to laugh, but it came out more like a nervous croak. “Right. Thanks. You’re, uh…you’re a hero.”

He stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the room. “Did a tornado hit your room? It was clean last time I came by.”

“What? No!” You crossed your arms defensively. “I cleaned! Mostly.”

Kento gave you a skeptical look before setting the bag of snacks on your desk. “If this is what ‘clean’ looks like to you, remind me never to see it messy.”

You threw a pillow at him, and he caught it effortlessly, smirking. “Careful. That’s my best throw pillow. If you damage it, I’ll charge you emotional damages.”

“Noted, little miss engineer.” he replied, setting the pillow down with exaggerated care. “What’s the rate for emotional damages these days?”

“Depends. How many snacks did you bring?”

“Enough to keep you from suing me.” He tells you with a grin. “Still have some in my car, just in case you wanted more.”

The two of you laughed, and for a moment, it felt like old times. A little bit easy, comfortable, effortless. But then, as Kento sat down on the edge of your bed, something in your chest tightened. How had this annoying, perfect, infuriatingly kind man become someone you couldn’t stop thinking about? Someone you don’t think you could live without?

He looked up at you, tilting his head slightly. “What’s with the staring? Do I have something on my face?”

“What? No!” You blinked rapidly, your cheeks heating. “I was just—uh—zoning out. Engineering stuff. Very complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right, right.” he said, clearly unconvinced. “Because I’m definitely not the one who helped you with that last project.”

“Details, details, Nanami Kento. Don’t get bogged down in the details.”

He chuckled, and the sound was so warm and familiar that you almost forgot why you were freaking out in the first place. Almost. Kento takes a moment. He then looks at you as though examining you with careful abandon. Kento wanted to take in the sight of you, after not seeing you for a while.

“You’re weird today, do you know that?” he said, leaning back slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, totally fine. Super fine.” You waved a hand dismissively. “Just tired, you know? Engineering. It’s a grind.”

Kento studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

Your stomach flipped, and you forced a laugh. “Who, me? No way. I’m like…a professional liar. Best in the business.”

“Uh-huh.” He hums back in retort.

He didn’t press further, but the way he looked at you. Everything about his caramel gaze was gentle, understanding, like he already knew what you weren’t saying. Everything about it, everything about him made your heart squeeze.

You sighed internally. How were you supposed to handle this? You couldn’t just blurt out, “Hey, Kento, I think I’m in love with you, and it’s driving me absolutely insane!”

But as he opened the bag of snacks and handed you your favorite, you couldn’t help but think maybe, just maybe, he already knew that you knew. And that maybe he knew that you felt deeply about him. You sighed. Maybe you’re just imagining it.

As the minutes ticked by, Kento made himself right at home in your dorm, sitting cross-legged on your bed and munching on the snacks he’d brought. Meanwhile, you had plopped into your desk chair, scrolling on your phone under the pretense of “taking a break.”

But in reality, you were desperately trying to distract yourself from the way he looked way too good just casually existing in your space. How could he look that good even as a law major? How can he have time to make your heart feel like this?

As you flicked through your social media feed, you stumbled upon a post that made your stomach twist uncomfortably. It was a picture—Kento, smiling (smiling!) with a group of classmates, apparently from earlier that day. Some of them were girls. Really pretty girls. Those really pretty preppy law girls!

Your first thought was When does Kento even smile like that? He never smiles like that around me!

Your second thought was Who’s the one leaning so close to him? Is she, like, whispering in his ear or something?

You shot a quick, subtle glance at him. He was still on your bed, completely unaware of the emotional spiral you were going through. He crunched on a chip like it was the most normal day in the world.

“Did you have fun today?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Kento raised an eyebrow. “Uh…what?”

“Today. You were with…people from your department.” you said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

His brow furrowed toward you slightly. “I mean, yeah, I had a class project meeting. It was fine. Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” you said, voice a little too high-pitched. Fuck, you were too obvious. You looked back at your phone, scrolling furiously to hide your face. “Just…wondering. Looked fun.”

“Wait.” Kento’s tone shifted. Suddenly you felt his gaze on you. “How do you know about that?”

Your heart dropped. “Uh, I saw it. Online. A picture. No big deal!”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. “Are you…jealous?”

“What?!” Your head whipped up so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. “Me? Jealous? Of what? Why would I be jealous?”

Kento’s lips quivered into a rare, brat–like smirk, and you immediately knew you were in trouble. “No reason at all.” he said smoothly. “Just seems like you’re a little…interested in what I’m doing when I’m not here.”

“Interested? Pfft, no. I was just—just checking to make sure you’re not hanging out with the wrong crowd.” you stammered, flailing for a decent excuse. “You know, bad influences. Peer pressure. That sort of thing.”

“Right, I see.” he said, clearly unconvinced. “Because I’m the type to fall victim to peer pressure.”

“Well, I don’t know that part of your life right now!” you snapped, feeling your face heat up. “Maybe one of those girls was trying to…to make you join a pyramid scheme or something!”

Kento leaned back on your bed, folding his arms behind his head, clearly enjoying this far too much. “You’re terrible at hiding things, you know.”

“I’m not hiding anything!” you shot back, spinning your chair around so you didn’t have to look at him.

There was a rustle of movement, and then suddenly, he was right behind you, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. You could feel your ears redden at the feeling of him. You squeaked, loud enough for him to hear.

“You’re really bad at lying, too. How come you haven’t evolved at lying? It’s been years and somehow, you’re still bad at it.” he said softly, his voice just teasing enough to make your heart race.

You spun around to face him, glaring. “Okay, fine! Maybe I was a little jealous. Are you happy now?”

Kento blinked, clearly surprised by your sudden outburst. But then, to your absolute horror, he started laughing—actual, full-on laughing. He hadn’t expected for you to just come out and say it like that. You were a prideful little flower, you always have been.

“You’re laughing at me?!” you cried, swatting at his arm.

“I’m not laughing at you, you know.” he said, still chuckling. “I just didn’t think you’d actually admit it.”

“Well, I did!” You crossed your arms, trying to look annoyed even as your face burned. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Kento’s laughter softened into a small, fond smile, and for a moment, the teasing disappeared. He didn’t know how much he missed you until now. Somehow, the world seemed like it was in proper orbit when he’s with you like this.

“Nothing, nothing.” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Because you don’t need to be jealous. If I wanted to spend my time with anyone else, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

You stared at him, your brain short-circuiting as he straightened up and walked back to the bed like he hadn’t just casually wrecked you with one sentence. You looked away, crossing your arms as though to shield yourself from him. But he could still see the redness of your ears.

“Well….” you muttered under your breath, plopping dramatically onto your desk. “Now I’m jealous of myself.”

Kento paused mid-bite of a chip and turned to you with an amused look. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” you said quickly, sitting up straight like you hadn’t just been caught having an existential crisis.

But of course, Kento being Kento, he wasn’t about to let it slide. “No, no, go ahead.” he said, his smirk returning as he leaned back against the headboard. “Explain how you’re jealous of yourself. This, I have to hear.”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Forget I said anything. It’s dumb.”

“I doubt that at all.” he replied, his tone annoyingly smug. “But fine, I’ll drop it. For now.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, only to find him watching you with a mix of amusement and something softer, something that made your heart flip all over again. You wanted to throw a pillow at him or maybe yourself—just to get rid of the growing warmth in your chest.

Instead, you grabbed the bag of chips from the desk and walked over to him, shoving it into his hands. “Here. Eat some of the snacks and stop psychoanalyzing me.”

“I wasn’t psychoanalyzing you.” he said, popping another chip into his mouth. “But you’re making it very tempting.”

“Unbelievable, Kento.” you muttered, plopping down onto the bed beside him. “This is why I can’t stand you sometimes, you know that?”

“Uh-huh.” He glanced at you, one eyebrow raised. “So much so that you admitted to being jealous of people spending time with me. Makes perfect sense.”

You huffed, grabbing a handful of chips just to give your hands something to do. “Okay, fine, you got me. I was a little jealous. Big deal. You’re my best friend. It’s normal to feel weird about you hanging out with other people, right?”

“Is it?” he asked, his voice teasing but his eyes studying you closely.

“Yes!” you said, refusing to meet his gaze. “Because we’re close. And I don’t like sharing, okay? You’ve known that since we met!”

“Hmm, hmm.” he said thoughtfully, leaning a little closer. “So what you’re saying is, you want me all to yourself?”

You choked on your chip, coughing violently as Kento sat back, looking far too pleased with himself. “You—ugh! Don’t say things like that!”

“Why not? I’m just repeating what you said to me.” he replied innocently.

“That is not what I said!”

“Sounded like it to me.”

You glared at him, your face burning. “You’re the worst.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, smiling slightly. “But I’m your worst.”

And just like that, you were done for. Completely, utterly done for. You threw a pillow at him once again. Because what else could you do to him like that? He wasn’t wrong. Sure enough, he caught it effortlessly, laughing rather softly as he set it down beside him.

“Stop overthinking about it.” he said after a moment, his tone quieter now. “I’m here because I want to be. No one else matters, okay?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” he said simply, reaching into the chip bag again like he hadn’t just made your heart implode for the second time that evening.

And you sat there, staring at him like an idiot, thinking that maybe, just maybe, falling for him wasn’t the worst thing in the world after all.

══════════════════

IT WAS ONE OF THE RARE OPPORTUNITIES WHERE YOU HAD A DAY OFF. So of course, you took the time to call Kento and ask him to hang out with you. And as usual, all he had said was that short, sure yes and nothing more.

He’d pick you up in thirty minutes, like usual. And of course, Nanami Kento was never late. If anything, he was always ten minutes early. He couldn’t have you waiting, after all.

The bar was warm and lively, filled with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. You and Kento had decided to spend your day off together, and while the original plan had been something low-key like a café or a bookstore, somehow you’d ended up here, nursing a drink and trying to act normal around him.

He’d never been here before, but he saw it from across the road and if the cafe or bookstore was closed — an afternoon at a bar wasn’t going to be a bad idea for college kids wanting to have some adventure beyond the campus walls.

Normal. Just normal. Yeah, act like you do. Well, whatever normal looks like to you now.

You could only mentally sigh as your peripheral was only stuck on him more than usual.

As if that was possible when you were utterly, hopelessly in love with the man sitting across from you.

Kento, of course, looked effortlessly composed, like he always did—leaning back in his seat, one hand resting on the table, the other holding his drink. He wasn’t a flashy guy, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made it impossible not to stare. And you were staring. Again.

“You’re staring at me again.” he said, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

“I am not!” you shot back, quickly taking a sip of your drink to cover up your flustered state.

“You’ve been doing it all evening.” he continued, raising an eyebrow. “Is there something on my face?”

“No, no.” you muttered, feeling the heat creep up your neck. “I was just…zoning out. Thinking about…stuff.”

“Stuff. You sure….about stuff as an excuse?” he repeated, his tone skeptical.

“Yes, stuff.” you said firmly, glaring at him. “You wouldn’t understand.”

He chuckled softly, and you were both annoyed and utterly charmed by the sound. Why did he have to be so effortlessly perfect? It wasn’t fair. You hated how good he is at being everything you love. As you tried to regain your composure, a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Hey there, sweetie–pie.” a man said, sliding up to your table with a confident grin. “Mind if I join you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh…”

Before you could say anything else, the man pulled up a chair and sat down, clearly not waiting for permission. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you. You felt disgusted by the way he looked at you. He wasn’t your type at all. And moreover, he’s creepy as hell.

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room.” he said smoothly. “You’ve got a great smile.”

“Um, thanks?” you said awkwardly, glancing at Kento.

Kento’s expression didn’t change much, but there was a subtle shift in his posture. He sat up a little straighter, his jaw tightening just slightly. Kento’s eyes were glaring hard enough that you could find those eyes were blades cutting you whole.

“So, what’s your name?” the guy asked, ignoring Kento entirely.

You opened your mouth to answer, but Kento beat you to it.

“She’s not interested in you.” he said flatly, his voice calm but with an edge that made the guy pause.

The man glanced at Kento, raising an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“Person she’s with.” Kento replied smoothly, though his tone made it clear that he wasn’t just a friend. “Who also happens to know she’s too polite to tell you to leave, so I’ll do it for her. What else are you waiting for? Leave.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was Kento…jealous?

The man hesitated for a moment, clearly debating whether to push back, but something about Kento’s steady gaze seemed to make him think twice. With a shrug, he stood up. He wasn’t going to get anything out of you. Lest he wants to get bitten by a tiger waiting to eat him. Well, at least he’s smart about that.

“Alright, alright. No need to get territorial.” He winked at you before walking away.

You shuddered at his wink.

Have men always been weird?

You shake it off quickly, drinking your pint.

You turned to Kento, your cheeks burning. “Territorial? Really?”

Kento shrugged, taking a sip of his drink like nothing had happened. “He was bothering you. I handled it.”

“I could’ve handled it myself, you know.” you said, crossing your arms.

“I’m sure you could’ve.” he replied, setting his glass down. “But I didn’t feel like watching you pretend to be polite to someone who clearly couldn’t take a hint.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe.” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. “But at least you don’t have to deal with him anymore.”

You huffed, turning back to your drink. But as you took a sip, you couldn’t help but notice the way Kento’s gaze lingered on you, softer now, like he was trying to gauge your reaction. You drink your pint once again in some somber silence.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yes.” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You glanced at him, your heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again. “Why?”

Kento held your gaze for a long moment before replying. “Because I don’t like the idea of anyone else thinking they can have what’s mine.”

Your brain short-circuited. “W-what?”

He didn’t elaborate, just leaned back in his chair with that same calm composure, as if he hadn’t just wrecked your entire evening with one casual sentence. You stared at him, utterly flustered and more in love than ever, wondering how on earth you were supposed to survive the rest of the night without completely losing your mind.

For the rest of the night, Kento didn’t let you out of his sight. He was subtle about it at first—the way he leaned in whenever someone walked by, his hand resting casually on the back of your chair. But as the minutes passed, it became glaringly obvious: Kento was on high alert, and every glance from a stranger only made his protective aura grow stronger.

When a group of guys walked by your table and one dared to look at you a second too long, Kento’s hand dropped from the chair to your shoulder, the weight of it warm and grounding. He didn’t even glance at the guy, his focus entirely on you, but the message was clear: Don’t even try it. Back off.

You tried to act normal, but it was impossible. Sitting beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you were acutely aware of every little thing about him—the way his sleeves were rolled up just enough to show his forearms, the way his voice dropped into a lower register whenever he spoke to you.

“You’re quiet again.” he said, his voice low as he leaned a fraction closer.

“I’m fine, Kento. Really.” you mumbled, staring into your drink to avoid looking at him.

“Liar.” he murmured, his tone edged with amusement. “You’ve been squirming all night.”

“I have not!” you protested, but the way your voice cracked didn’t help your case.

Kento just smirked, and that was the last straw. You stood abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Not alone, you’re not.” he said immediately, rising from his seat with an ease that made you want to throw something.

“What, are you my bodyguard now?” you snapped, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his possessive tone.

“If that’s what it takes, then yes.” he said simply, his gaze steady and unyielding.

Before you could argue, he took your hand—firm, unrelenting—and led you toward the exit.

“Kento, the bathroom’s that way.” you pointed out, trying to tug your hand free.

“We’re leaving.” he said without looking back.

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Because I’m done watching people think they can look at you like you’re up for grabs.” he said, his voice calm but with an edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your protests died in your throat. Nanami Kento rarely raised his voice or lost his composure, but there was something in his tone now. It was something raw and unmistakable. And every bit of it just left you speechless.

The car ride was silent, tension thick in the air. When he pulled into a quiet, empty lot, he turned off the engine and finally looked at you. His gaze was dark, intense, and it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Kento, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You.” he said, his tone low and rough. “You’re what’s going on. Do you have any idea how hard it is to sit there and pretend I’m okay with watching other people look at you like they have a chance?”

Your breath hitched. “I… I didn’t think you—”

“Didn’t think I’d care?” he interrupted, leaning closer. “Didn’t think I’d notice? God, you drive me insane, you know that?”

“Kento…”

“You’re mine.” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You’ve always been mine. You always have been since we were kids. I just didn’t want to scare you off by saying it out loud again.”

Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “I— I….I know.” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I thought you wouldn’t say it again and I just…maybe with time passing… I thought I was the only one now.”

His lips curled into a dark, almost predatory smile. “You’re not. Never. Not when I’ve marked you since we met at that playground when we were kids.”

Before you could process his words, Kento leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was animalistic, it was wanton. It was full of possessiveness, claiming, as if he were branding the truth into you.

You matched his intensity, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, and any hesitation you’d felt earlier melted away, replaced by a burning need that had been building for far too long.

He broke away just long enough to murmur against your lips, “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” you whispered, your voice shaky but resolute.

“You belong with me.”

You looked at him with your doe like eyes. “I belong with you.”

“Good.” he growled, pulling you into his lap without hesitation. His hands gripped your waist firmly, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “Because I’m done holding back.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face as you whispered, “Then don’t.”

And he didn’t.

══════════════════

YOU DIDN’T EXPECT HIM TO BE THIS HUNGRY FOR YOU. But with the way he’s going at it. Kento has been hungry for you for a very long time. Kento’s lips linger, soft and insistent, as if savoring every inch of your skin.

The warmth of his breath trails higher, leaving behind a delicate ache where his mouth was. His hands rest firmly on your thighs, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch.

“You’re trembling.” he murmurs, his voice a rich baritone, teasing but laced with tenderness. He looks up, his gaze heavy with desire, his lips brushing against your inner thigh as he speaks. “Do I make you nervous?”

A shaky laugh escapes your lips, betraying your composure. “Not nervous... just—” Your words cut off as he presses another kiss, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

“Just what?” he asks, his tone low and deliberate, his lips curving into a smile against your skin. His hands slide upward, thumbs drawing small circles that make your heart race.

“Kento.” you breathe his name like a plea, your voice catching as he moves closer, the space between you charged with electricity.

The dim glow of the streetlamp filters through the windshield, casting golden lines across his sharp features. The intimacy of the confined space amplifies every touch, every sound between the two of you in these leather seats. The soft rustle of fabric, the quiet hum of his breathing, the slap of flesh against flesh.

“I love when you say my name like that, you know?” he says, voice dark and velvety. His mouth moves with purpose now, leaving faint marks of love on your skin, each one deliberate, each one staking his claim. “I love hearing it like that. Wanton f’r me.”

You gasp, your head falling back against the car seat, fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently. He groans at the sensation, the sound sending heat coursing through you. How has he ever been this good at getting under your skin?

“I want to hear more from you.” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a mix of command and yearning. His lips hover for a moment, teasing you with their proximity. “But only if you’re ready.”

Kento’s lips trail higher, each kiss softer yet more possessive, leaving warmth that lingers long after his mouth moves on. He pauses for a moment, his breath hot against your skin as his hands tighten slightly on your thighs, his thumbs stroking slow, deliberate circles.

“Don’t hold back your noises from me, okay?” he murmurs, his voice a sultry whisper that sends a shiver racing through you. He looks up, his golden-brown eyes locking with yours, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I want to hear you clearly.”

The command in his tone makes your pulse quicken. You bite your lip, but the sound escapes anyway, a soft, breathy whimper that only seems to spur him on. Kento’s touch made you feel as though a thousand flames were burning all at once.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” he says, his voice thick with satisfaction. His teeth graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and he chuckles darkly when your hips shift involuntarily toward him.

“Kento.” you gasp, your voice trembling with both restraint and longing.

“Hm?” he hums against your skin, the vibration sending a jolt straight through you. “I told you—no holding back.”

His hands glide upward, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, anchoring you in place as his mouth continues its slow, maddening journey lower and lower. You could feel your lips mutter a weak groan against him.

The dim light of the streetlamp catches the sheen of his messy blond hair, illuminating the faint smile on his lips as he drinks in every reaction you give him. The intimacy of the moment wraps around you both, the world outside the car fading entirely.

“Kento, please.” you whisper, your voice raw with need, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He pauses, his lips hovering just above your skin, his breath ghosting over you. He takes in the sight of you, almost as though a hunter to a prey. Nanami Kento is your hunter, he always has been. And he’s been keeping this inside him for way too long. This desire, for you. Only you.

“That’s what I wanted to hear from you.” he murmurs, his tone dark and full of promise, before pressing another kiss, softer this time, but no less consuming.

Kento’s words hang in the air, thick with authority and desire, as his lips return to your skin with renewed purpose. He’s slow, methodical, as if every kiss, every graze of his teeth is a language only he can speak—and you’re utterly fluent in his meaning.

“Such sweet sounds from you, hm?” he murmurs against your thigh, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through you. “Don’t hold them back from me. Let me hear what I do to you.”

Your breath hitches, a soft moan slipping past your lips, and the way his lips curl into a grin tells you he’s satisfied—but not done. His hands are firm but gentle as they slide further up your inner thighs, fingers brushing dangerously close to where you want him most.

His touch sets your skin alight, the heat pooling low in your stomach as your chest rises and falls in uneven rhythm. You could feel his long fingers making their journey to that space, their cool touch melting you whole in a pleasurable moan.

“Kento.” you whisper, barely able to find your voice, your hands trembling as they clutch at the seat beneath you.

He glances up, his caramel eyes catching the faint glow of the streetlight streaming through the windshield, giving him an almost otherworldly allure. His gaze is dark, hungry, but there’s a softness there too. There was that endless reverence in the way he looks at you, as though you’re something precious.

“Yes, my love?” he asks, his voice laced with feigned innocence, though the smirk pulling at his lips betrays him. Your heart drummed at your new nickname from him. It was real. You were lovers. Doing what lovers do. “Tell me what you need. I want to hear it.”

You let out a shaky exhale, your fingers threading into the lower depths of sandy blond undercut for stability as much as desperation. Slowly, it trailed down on his neck, your touch sleuthing through him. Temptingly, almost like a wanting vixen.

“I need you… closer.” you admit, voice breaking, the vulnerability of the words making heat rise to your cheeks.

Kento hums in approval, the sound low and pleased at your words. He leans closer and his fingers echo deeper and deeper into you. Your head throws back hard against the leather’s pristine touch. He playfully moves inside. One moment in a circle. One moment a thrust. Over and over again, rinse and repeat, force and pleasure. And all you could do was surrender.

“Good girl of mine, my love.” he murmurs, his praise sending a wave of warmth coursing through you.

That had surely made you even more wet inside. His lips press higher against your jaw, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He continues on and on. You don’t know where he learned it. How he got so good at knowing how to take you to paradise. BUt you could hardly care. You were focused on how deep his fingers were in you.

“You’re so beautiful like this, my love.” he continues, his voice velvet against the charged air. His hands grip your thighs tighter, pulling them apart just enough for him to settle more firmly between them. “Completely undone for me.”

A sound escapes you, part moan, part plea, and his response is immediate. There was a broken groan deep in his chest as he nuzzled against you, the vibrations of his voice making your whole body tremble and shake as he rushed more and more, in and out, with his masterful fingers.

“That’s it. Go on, my love.” he breathes, his voice dark, dripping with satisfaction. “Just let go for me, honey. No one else is here. Just us. Just me and the way you fall apart under my touch.”

The world outside the car feels impossibly distant now. The soft flicker of the streetlamp, the faint hum of passing cars. It’s all drowned out by the thrum of your heartbeat and the way Kento’s lips, and his fingers worship every part of you they touch, in and out.

“Kento, Kento.” you gasp again, your voice a desperate whisper.

His name on your lips seems to be his motivation, pushing more and more as his fingers tighten inside of you as he shifts closer, his movements becoming more deliberate, more consuming. You could only feel your tears rush in pleasurable waterfalls on your cheek.

“Say it again, my love.” he demands softly, his lips grazing the edge of your hip. “Say my name like that again.”

And when you do, your voice trembling and raw, and broken — he lets out a sound that’s pure need, his control slipping as he loses himself in you entirely. His fingers dug deeper and deeper until they couldn’t anymore. Your slick brushing through his fingers as he repeats it over and over again.

Kento’s name spills from your lips again, breathless and aching, and he growls softly against your skin. There was a sound that sent a ripple of heat straight to your core. You cry out loudly as you come undone on his touch, so hard that you see stars.

“You’re trembling so much, my love.” he murmurs, his voice molten and rich. “Is it because of me, hm?”

His fingers slowly exit through your crevices, slick and full of you. He looks satisfied with the mess he made of you. It doesn’t matter if you pool your pleasure on his leather seats. The sight was satisfying to look at. Because you’re his. And this was proof.

Your answer is a shaky exhale, your head falling back against the seat as your hazy gaze saw him slowly eat at the slick of your pleasure. You had just come undone from his touch and now you could feel yourself wanting more. You were wanton for more. Only he could make you feel this way.

“Words in full, my love.” he coaxes, his tone teasing but firm. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Kento.” you admit, voice breaking as you finally surrender to his command. “It’s you—only you.It’s always been you.”

And with that, he kisses you as he finds himself wanting more of you, as much as you wanted more of him. You gave him everything, and he gave you everything. You wanted to be whole, consumed by the existence of the other.

The air thickens with desire as his touch shifts from lingering to deliberate, the rhythm between you growing more urgent. You brace yourself, your body trembling in anticipation, and then, with a careful, controlled movement, he enters you.

A sharp inhale catches in your throat, the sensation overwhelming as he fills you completely. You gasp, every inch of him stretching you, pushing you to the edge of something deeper, something more consuming. Your body trembles in the wholeness of him.

He began to move at a slow pace and then soon enough, with that eager speed. Your legs crossed against his back, and your arms crossed against his shoulders. You could only hold on for dear life as he pushes in and out of you in a pace that took your breath away.

Every inch of him stretches you, each motion slow yet intentional, designed to leave you breathless, wanting more. Kento’s gaze never leaves yours, intense and searching, as though he’s reading the unspoken desires written in the way your body responds. The heat between you builds steadily, a slow burn that makes your pulse quicken, your limbs aching with the need to surrender to him entirely.

Everything felt so good.

He made you feel good.

Only he could do it like this.

"Are you okay?" His voice is low, almost reverent, as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze.

There’s a softness in his caramel eyes, a tenderness beneath the storm of desire that mirrors the vulnerability you feel. His breath is heavy, and yet there’s a careful concern in his touch, as if he's trying to read you, to make sure you're ready for what comes next.

You nod, but words fail you, the overwhelming sensations clouding your ability to speak. Every inch of your being is attuned to him now, to the heat of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing.

You inhale deeply, trying to steady yourself, yet all that fills your senses is him. The scent of him, the taste of his skin, the press of his chest against yours. Your slick blending against his own. It was all consuming. How you both fit together. How you were made for each other.

"More, Kento." you whisper, the word barely audible but laced with desperation. It’s not just a plea. No, you were saying it as it is. “Faster.”

You needed him. Every bit of him, every part of him. You wanted it all. The craving in your voice is clear, raw, and unfiltered. The desire that had been simmering between you both is now an undeniable force, impossible to resist.

His lips curl into a small, knowing smile, and something in his gaze shifts, darkens. Without breaking eye contact, he presses forward again, moving with an intensity that speaks of his own growing hunger. His movements are deliberate and calculated, even with the speed he was going at.

It was as if he was savoring every inch, every moment with you. Each stroke is measured, calculated, and yet there's an undercurrent of urgency, as though he's trying to pull you deeper into him, deeper into this shared space where only the two of you exist.

His gaze is intense, a silent communication passing between you both. It's not just about the way he moves or the way he touches you. Everything about it felt like magic. It's how he reads every subtle shift in your body, every small intake of breath, every whisper of need.

He’s attuned to you in a way that goes beyond words, understanding the unspoken pleas you can't voice. It’s like he knows you better than you do yourself. It’s like he’s memorized every part of you. He just knew how to love you whole, completely.

You cried out as he hit that pleasure spot, in and out. The car windows were fogging up with the hot breath echoing out of your lips over and over again. You were certain that just as much, people had noticed the car shaking and rearing with activity at the stop. It was too obvious to see.

The heat between you builds steadily, a slow burn that makes your pulse race, that quickens the rhythm of your heart. You feel it in the way your body responds, how the pressure inside you grows with every shift, every stroke, until it feels like the world is narrowing down to just the two of you. You both were lost in this rhythm of connection, of craving, of surrender. This was all that there was, this universe of you, together.

Your body aches with the need to give in completely, to let him take you fully, to become lost in the feeling of him, of the shared moment. He looked at you and leaned forward, letting his lips take yours. His tongue pushes through against your own in a delicious melee of pleasure. You hummed against his lips as his thrusts got deeper, faster. More desperate.

When he parts from you to gather air in his lungs, he slows for a bit and pulls out, earning a whine. But then in a steady shock, he pushes back in, his hands straying to your back, pulling you closer to him. It was as though he wanted you to melt and blend with his flesh. To become one. He thrusts deeper and deeper, harsher than before. You cry out against his ear.

"Let go, my love." he murmurs, his voice a low, breathy whisper against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "I’ve got you."

There’s an assurance in his words, a promise that you can surrender, that he’ll be there to catch you, to guide you through whatever comes next. And with those words, everything inside you snaps. The tension, the anticipation, the desire.

Everything unravels in a wave of release, a deep, consuming surrender. You cry out so loud that you think that you were gasping for air for the first time. Nanami Kento hit on your body with a harsh desire last time and felt his own hot pleasure flow through you with a loud roar.

Your body trembles beneath his touch as you lose yourself in him, the rhythm of his movements pulling you deeper into the moment, into the raw intensity of it all. Your grip on him tightens involuntarily, fingers digging into the hardness of his skin, anchoring yourself to the sensation of him.

Each breath comes quicker, more erratic, as you struggle to keep up with the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your eyes flutter closed, and a few tears escape, blurring your vision. But the tears are not from pain. They are from the overwhelming satisfaction, the complete surrender of everything you’d been holding back.

For a moment, you can’t see anything, your body entirely consumed by the sensations coursing through you. It’s like you’ve been plunged into a haze, where nothing exists but the pulse of his touch, the heat of his body against yours. You feel your senses heighten, every movement, every sound reverberating inside you, making your heart race.

And then, slowly, your sight begins to return. Everything is foggy, distorted at first, the edges of the world softened by the force of your pleasure. But as the fog clears, everything sharpens, every detail comes into focus.

And in that moment, it feels like you’ve stepped into something infinite. The universe itself is laid bare before you, and standing at the center of it all, consumed by the same overwhelming force, is him. Everything felt like enlightenment. Life started here.

Kento’s eyes are locked onto yours, dark and intense, holding you captive with every glance, every word unspoken. His face, usually so composed, is now etched with a mixture of hunger and satisfaction, his own breath coming in ragged pulls. You are drawn to him, to the way he fills every corner of your mind, your heart, your body.

"You're... breathtaking, my love." he murmurs, his voice rough, barely audible as he moves against you, his hands cradling your face gently. "So beautiful, at this moment."

The words make your heart ache, the vulnerability in his tone striking you deeply. Your gaze never wavers from his, even as the pleasure inside you begins to coil again, threatening to pull you under once more. It’s not just his touch, not just the way he moves inside you. It’s the way he sees you, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only one who matters in the world.

"You’re mine. You always will be." you whisper, your voice trembling with the truth of it. The words come from somewhere deep, primal, raw. You don’t even know where they’ve come from, only that they’re true.

“Am I really?” He snickers, pecking at your jaw with small peppering kisses with exhaustion.

You nodded shyly, smiling at him. "I need you... like this. Always."

Kento smiles at your confession. His grip tightens around you, his lips pressing against your forehead in a soft kiss, almost reverent. For a moment, it was like he’d fallen in love with you again for the very first time again.

"And you have me, my love." he responds, his voice low and full of promise. "All of me. Always."

4K notes · View notes

sleepyhoon · 4 months ago

Text

✰ pairing. — emo!hs x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 7k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayal (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!hs, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and hs are both 18+, minors dni. very cliche shit. reader doesn’t know much abt sex tbh.

✰ synopsis. — Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of, "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."

You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.

✰ a/n. revamping this from my bts acc with heeseung this time bc im absolutely obsessed with this couple and need them to exist in every possible universe :P revamping part 2 as we speak and ill post in a few days hehe

✰ perm taglist. @intromortal @aanniikkaa @meetletsinmontauk @lovelyyf @right-person-wrong-time

———

Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him.

Lee Chaeryeong isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Heeseung is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.

Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Heeseung very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible.

Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.

It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Chaeryeong for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him.

So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Chaeryeong, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.

"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Chaeryeong delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.

She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."

Deep down, Chaeryeong knows Heeseung won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.

As you're about to ask Chaeryeong if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.

You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Heeseung's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.

His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.

Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.

He nods at you, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?

"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.

Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.

"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”

It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.

You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.

When you turn to leave, Heeseung stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.

A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Chaeryeong is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Heeseung to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.

"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Heeseung interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.

You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you.

A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.

It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.

You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister.

It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Heeseung definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?

Heeseung hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway.

So you leave.

You tell Chaeryeong you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.

The following day isn't any easier.

Chaeryeong posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Heeseung posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Heeseung farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.

"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Heeseung responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'

It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.

Maybe it's for the best that Heeseung's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him.

And you most certainly did.

The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Chaeryeong brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Heeseung on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.

You’re better off without him.

That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Heeseung's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Chaeryeong (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco.

Heeseung was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.

It took days of convincing until Heeseung finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Chaeryeong moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Chaeryeong for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.

He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.

Some of you have debated telling Chaeryeong about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.

Chaeryeong has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."

She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Chaeryeong. She had other plans, however.

"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."

Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Chaeryeong looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.

One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Chaeryeong has to practically yank you through the front door.

Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Chaeryeong even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Chaeryeong would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen.

"Thirsty?" Chaeryeong questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.

"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Chaeryeong pours something into your cup.

"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.

Chaeryeong suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did.

"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.

You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."

You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.

That's when it hits you.

"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.

It's Heeseung. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.

You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.

Panicked, you reach for Chaeryeong's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.

Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Chaeryeong towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."

"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning."

Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."

Chaeryeong squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.

"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"

"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"

"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.

"What are you doing here?" Chaeryeong throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Heeseung steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.

"But—"

"Go."

Chaeryeong's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Heeseung looks at you. "What?"

"You too."

"I'm not—"

"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.

Trudging up the stairs behind Chaeryeong, you wait with her in the hallway until Heeseung arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Chaeryeong protest; there really isn't any point.

As soon as the door is shut, Chaeryeong is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"

"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Heeseung says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"

Chaeryeong glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Heeseung, takes a deep breath, then agrees.

"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Chaeryeong to calm down enough to let him speak.

"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."

Heeseung scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"

Chaeryeong nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Heeseung is your brother, anyway.

"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Chaeryeong mumbles, barely able to look Heeseung in the eye.

"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"

"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Chaeryeong glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.

You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Heeseung flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).

"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"

"Same way we got here."

"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Chaeryeong shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"

Heeseung's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."

"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Chaeryeong asks the exact question you had.

Heeseung shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."

You and Chaeryeong exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?

"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Chaeryeong questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.

"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."

It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Heeseung says he's taking the two of you home. Chaeryeong, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Chaeryeong is really good at getting what she wants, or if Heeseung was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.

"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Heeseung scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.

A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Heeseung! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"

"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.

You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Heeseung just referred to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Heeseung had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.

What the actual fuck.

—

The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Chaeryeong has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.

"It's time, Chaeryeong," you interrupt, helping her stand.

"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"

"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.

Chaeryeong is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Heeseung's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"

You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."

Stunned, Chaeryeong gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."

"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."

"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"

Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling.

"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.

Chaeryeong snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."

Now, you really have to test the waters.

"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Heeseung? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.

A beat of silence passes as Chaeryeong gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."

"What?"

You've finally reached Heeseung's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Chaeryeong shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."

"First?" You mimic.

"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"

This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Heeseung.

You go to respond, but Heeseung, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.

There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.

He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Chaeryeong opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.

Heeseung calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."

Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Chaeryeong more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.

Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.

Chaeryeong and Heeseung bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Heeseung even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it.

Heeseung parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.

"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Chaeryeong questions, stretching her arms outward.

"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Heeseung turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."

Mockingly, Chaeryeong points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Heeseung had in her.

You turn to go, but Heeseung's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"

"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.

Heeseung shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"

"No, but it's fi—"

"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."

It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Heeseung because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.

"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Chaeryeong, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"

Suddenly embarrassed, Chaeryeong shushes you, gesturing that Heeseung is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Heeseung genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.

She does finally, and Heeseung resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Heeseung humming along to the radio.

He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."

You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."

"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."

Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.

"Well, I only went because Chaeryeong was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.

"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."

"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.

Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"

"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.

"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Sunghoon, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Heeseung does confuses you.

"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."

"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"

Pause. Boyfriend?

You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Heeseung. "Boyfriend?" You ask.

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"

There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?

After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Heeseung, I do not have a boyfriend."

"Good. Focus on school."

Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."

Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.

"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.

"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."

"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.

He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.

"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Chaeryeong get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."

He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

The following day, Chaeryeong is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.

"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.

You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice.

"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.

"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.

Chaeryeong clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."

"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.

You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Heeseung strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.

Perhaps you should stay.

"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend.

Chaeryeong wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Chaeryeong makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.

And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Chaeryeong bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.

Heeseung's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.

He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You ask.

"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body.

"Who?"

"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.

You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."

"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Chaeryeong wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.

You let him know you'll ask Chaeryeong if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Heeseung directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.

"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"

"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."

"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Heeseung's gaze locks on yours.

"Yeah? It is?" He questions.

You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."

He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.

"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.

"For what? Calling me your sister?"

He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."

Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted.

"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."

"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."

Heeseung raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."

There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.

"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.

"Awkward about what?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?

"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."

Heeseung looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."

What?

"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.

He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Heeseung asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.

After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Heeseung on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another.

"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"I never did." You lie.

"Really? That sucks?"

"Why?"

He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."

You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap.

Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Heeseung can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"

"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

"More than anything."

He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.

You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger.

"Heeseung…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.

"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"

You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Heeseung doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you.

"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.

His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.

You curse under your breath, and Heeseung makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.

You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.

Heeseung is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.

You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.

Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym.

He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"

You nod.

"Use your words."

“I’m okay, Heeseung.”

"You're still okay with this?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.

"I'm positive." You assure him.

You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Heeseung catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.

He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Heeseung was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.

He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.

He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"

"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.

Heeseung must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"

"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.

You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.

"You can move, just…not too much. Please."

Heeseung nods, "Whatever you want, angel."

He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.

That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking.

"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.

Heeseung picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.

He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Heeseung finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.

"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

As much as you would love to lay naked with Heeseung in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Chaeryeong will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."

He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Heeseung awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.

Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest.

"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.

You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Heeseung reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.

You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty.

Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Heeseung had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?

Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to?

You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Chaeryeong you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.

The next time a Lee sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Chaeryeong finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.

"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.

#enhypen smut #enhypen #lee heeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen imagine #heeseung imagine #lee heeseung smut #enhypen scenario #heeseung scenarios #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop scencario #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader

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borathae · 5 months ago

Text

Bonded

“You didn’t think that having Jungkook save you from an abusive arranged marriage by marking you would mean that you would have to marry him instead. Yet here you are. Bonded to him for life, with his father threatening to ban you if you fuck it up and with your marriage night one step away. It wouldn’t be that scary if you weren’t aware that his family doesn’t bond with omegas.”

Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x f. omega!Reader

Genre: Werewolves!AU, forced marriage!AU, childhood best friends to lovers!AU, marriage night!AU, Angst, Romance, SMUT

Warnings: Hard Dom!Jungkook, happy sub!Reader, size & strength kink, he is a lot taller than her, angst & misunderstandings in the beginning, poor woman gets threatened left and right at her own bonding party, please protect her, Kook is hurt by her at first but the problem gets solved hihi, her brother is a dick tbfh, insanely protective!Jungkook, whipped Alpha in loveeee, lots of kisses and touches, he is really soft with her & just a lil nervous, he is so lethal tbfh no wonder she gets turned on by him so easily bahaha, kissing & biting of her scent spots, the spots are on her neck and her tits and her inner thighs, he accidentally stimulates them long enough that she goes into heat, which makes him go into his ruts <3, this is a really passionate bonding night for sureeee, intense and hungry nipple sucking, her poor omega tits swell and produce sweet liquid (not milk just idk omega liquid lmaloaooa listen I made this up as I was going and it's hot), Jungkook eats it upppp, sooooo much slick, lots of drool and tears hihih, rough penetrative sex with his big alpha cock, knotting, lots of orgasms for both, breeding with his hot cum mhmh, listen he fucks her roughly while he is knotted which means she repeatedly gets penetrated by his knot, she likes it cause she is so into him, stimulation of her cervix which feels really good for an omega, she is in heaven with him fr, he never felt as good before as well, sex in missionary then in mating press and then just tangled up in a mess of limbs, praise, hand holding, he calls her "baby" & "my love" & "princess", the cuddliest and safest and giggliest aftercare, they're not aware of it yet but they're true mates <3, oh yeah! they break the bed

Wordcount: 15.8k

a/n: YOU HOES (affectionately) ASKED FOR IT AND THIS HOE (me, derogatory) LISTENED!!! I FUCKING LISTENED!!! AND I AGREED!! We need more Alpha!Kook in our life and on this blog. This is the hottest smut ever like (tmi but) i need to jerk it afterwards, which rarely happens with my smut HFAHDSFH i need him to be my alpha husband and rearrange my guts daily tbfh 😔 have fun besties, i hope this is a worthy enough sequel to the first part 😩💛 ps: for all you omegaverse veterans, i'm still a newbie to this AU and this story is MY interpretation of the AU hehe any rule changes are done intentional to my comfort levels <3

If you knew that agreeing to Jungkook’s plan would mean This, perhaps you never would have agreed. Perhaps if the night hadn’t been so stormy and you so hopeless, you wouldn’t have said yes.

But you did and now you are here. In front of the entire pack, in a long dress as your pack’s priest is talking about eternal faithfulness. You knew that being marked by an alpha would mean that you had to be with him, but didn’t think it would mean This.

Your family is in the audience. First row, next to Jungkook’s family. Your brother stares at you with a look you can’t quite make out. You still can’t really stand his face. Jungkook’s father seems displeased and you don’t blame him. The little stunt you pulled made alpha Urquard furious and it was Jungkook’s father who had to take care of it. He wanted to trade another omega at first, but Jungkook stopped him before that could happen. You didn’t get to see Jungkook for two whole days after this incident and when he came back, his upper lip was chipped and he didn’t want to talk about what happened.

“Urquard’s not gonna bother our pack again. That’s all you need to know”, he told you tiredly while you tried to nurse his lip. “And there’s something else. It’s about us”, he then continued.

“About us? What about us?”

“If we wanna keep living here, we have to do something.”

“What do we have to do?”

“And with this kiss, I may pronounce you husband and wife”, the priest says and howls. The rest of the pack follows. Everyone, except Jungkook’s father who is staring holes into you darkly. It is custom for werewolves to howl for a newly bonded couple. It is meant to bring luck and happiness into the marriage. Having the pack alpha refuse this ritual is not a good sign.

You gulp down the heavy lump in your throat, shifting your nervous eyes to Jungkook. He seems nervous too, clasping your clammy hands. He closes the distance. Thankfully the howls are loud enough to mask your voices.

“He isn’t-”

“I know. Ignore him. He’s a stubborn idiot.” Jungkook cups your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”

You hesitate, feeling dizzy from lack of oxygen in your lungs. His father isn’t howling. What if Jungkook doesn’t want this bond either? If you knew that your night with him would end in marriage, maybe you wouldn’t have said yes to him. He wants to kiss you, doesn’t he? His eyes are studying your lips. You want to kiss him too, but it is so scary to go for it. What if he doesn’t want this bond? You hesitate and hesitate. As a matter of fact, you hesitate long enough for the howls to die down.

Heavy, thick silence follows. The pack stares. The priest stares. Jungkook’s father stares. Jungkook himself stares.

“Hey uhm, this is the part where you kiss me”, he whispers.

“I know”, you whisper back.

The priest clears his throat. Jungkook licks his lips nervously, still waiting for your consent. Someone in the audience coughs.

If you knew that agreeing to Jungkook’s plan would lead to having to bond with him, perhaps you never would have agreed. He promised you that you would just have to pretend, that you wouldn’t have to be with him if you didn’t want to and yet here you are. You are now officially his mate. Well, not until you kissed him. You really want to kiss him, but it’s so scary.

“You have to kiss for the bond to be sealed”, the priest whispers as well.

You glance at the audience. Your family seems nervous. Jungkook’s father seems hopeful but also very angry. You look at Jungkook, whose eyes have darkened slightly.

“It seems that the bond is invali-”, the priest tries to announce loudly, but before he can finish his sentence, Jungkook silences him by pulling you into the kiss.

You gasp, eyes wide open and body frozen. His big hand is on the back of your head, keeping you close. The priest sees it as a sign and begins the howling again. It fills the wedding house, almost sounding like melodies of joy. But you feel sick to the stomach. You are mated for life. Jungkook made sure of it and you made sure of how your marriage will be because you hesitated. You can see it in his eyes once he pulls back and they are as cold as ice. Holy fuck, you messed up.

The iciness of his stare continues long into the festivities. It is the duty of the newly bonded couple to open the dance floor with a dance. You and Jungkook have to wait behind a curtain to be called to the floor. You arrive a little later than him because your mother wanted to talk to you before that. Something about being a good mate to him. You didn’t really listen because she pissed you off.

Jungkook sends you an icy glare, tonguing his cheek.

“You”, you stomp to him. Your mother made you angry enough that you feel the need to take it out on him.

He watches you with a cocked up brow. You shove at his chest. He doesn’t budge, but stares with widened eyes.

“How dare you force the kiss onto me like this. You took away my choice”, you hiss.

“Tch.”

“Don’t tch me. You said that it was my choice. You forced me.”

He tenses his jaw, looking anywhere but you. You shove him again with no chance of moving him.

“Did you hear me?”

“I don’t know if you already forgot the five prior conversations we had, but if we didn’t bond today, my dad would have banished us both. I made sure that this wouldn’t happen”, he answers you snappishly.

“This still doesn’t give you the right to kiss me like this”, you throw back, shoving at his chest.

He doesn’t budge, taking your hands to stop you from shoving him again. His grip is strong and possessive, but doesn’t hurt.

“The priest was gonna renounce our bond. I had to act fast”, he hisses.

“Yeah well, I didn’t want to be forced into it.”

“I know that by now”, Jungkook spits and swipes your hands away, turning a cold shoulder to you. He crosses his arms in front of his chest so tightly it looks as if he is trying to hug himself.

“I want an apology for it”, you insist.

“I’m sorry.”

You falter for a moment, not having expected it.

“I’m sorry, okay? Just. Drop it now, please.”

“Drop it? Excuse me?”

Jungkook turns his head away.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

No eye contact.

“Jungkook?”

“I’m done talking to you”, he grumbles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you hurt me.”

You gawk at him, holding your breath. He turns to you, meeting your eyes with such urgency it feels as if he is trying to drown you in the connection.

“All this talk about not wanting me to hold back. You told me not to stop telling you that you’re mine. Was it just empty talk?” he asks.

His heartbroken scent makes you feel heavy in your chest.

“What? I, I don’t- what?” you stutter.

“Did it ever mean something to you?”

“Kook, I-”

“Don’t call me that”, he hisses and steps closer. The thing is, however, that you don’t feel the instinctive need to step back. He doesn’t feel dangerous to you. Not because he isn’t scary, because he definitely is, but because you know for a fact that he wouldn’t hurt you. “Don’t call me that after what you did today.”

You gulp. He puts his hand over his heart, eyes showing how hurt he feels. His voice quivers as he speaks.

“You made me have my first knot ever. You, you made me feel so good that I bit you. You had your first knotting orgasm through me. I was fucking alive inside you”, he say and puts his other hand on your stomach where you once allowed him to feel himself in you.

You gasp and tense at the touch, putting your hand over his’. His touch seeps into you, reminding you how it was to carry his warmth inside you. Everything inside you wants him within the first touch. The connection is so intense that you draw closer to him instinctively.

“I thought that it meant something to you too. So why did you hesitate?” he stresses, eyes racing between yours.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Jungkook pulls his hand away from your stomach. “Wow, okay.”

“Kook, please.”

“Forget it. Let’s just get it over with”, he hisses and a second later, the curtains open and you have to pretend to be a happy couple.

He takes your hand, leading you to the dance floor while howls and claps cheer you on. He positions you and him in the middle of the dance floor, looking down at you with a tightened face.

The music starts. So does the dance.

Jungkook leads it, you follow. He holds you so close. He looks so deeply into your eyes. To anyone else it must seem as if he can’t get enough of his wife, but you are close enough to him that you know his true feelings. He wants this stupid dance to end as quickly as possible.

You can’t bear to look up at him any longer, lowering your eyes.

“Don’t. Look up.”

You obey instinctively.

“You’ve already fucked up the kiss, don’t fuck up the dance as well.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s already a little too late for that, isn’t it?” he says and leans you back as part of the dance. For just a second you see the world upside down before he lifts you again, holding you against his chest as he twirls over the dance floor with you. It makes your dress dance with you and blurs the world around you. He furrows his brows.

“Did it ever mean anything to you?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes or no? It’s a simple answer.”

“I was desperate and I-”

“Wow.”

“I, I just meant that I don’t know if it meant what it meant to you.”

“Stop talking, seriously.”

You gulp. Jungkook looks away.

“You have to look at me”, you whisper panickedly.

“Don’t worry, the dance is already fucked”, Jungkook says and coincidentally enough, the music switches just this moment. The rest of the pack fills the dance floor, but you barely notice them.

Jungkook steps back and leaves you in the middle of the dance floor. Your chest feels tight. You didn’t want it to come to this. Of course it meant something to you, but he cornered you right now and you tend to say the wrong things under pressure. You didn’t want to give him a dishonest answer, but didn’t have the full answer ready yet. Oh god, this isn’t what you wanted to happen.

Sudden fear fills you. You know instantly that his father is next to you. You force yourself to look at him, holding your breath.

“Ruin this bond, you and your family can look for a new pack. Understood?”

You nod your head fearfully.

“Speak up!”

“Yes! Understood!”

“That’s better. Fucking, bratty omega. Just because my son can’t keep his dick in his pants. I’ll teach him how to discipline you, be sure of that”, he says with a deadly glare and turns his back to you, leaving you in the middle of the dance floor.

You bite back tears.

Alcohol. You need to forget this night. Yes, that’s the solution.

Werewolf bonding parties aren’t that different from human wedding parties. There is good music, delicious food, lots of dancing and even more laughter. There is also, of course, the occasional friendly fighting between two wolves, which may seem scary to a human but is perfectly normal to your species. There is even a saying that if a bonding party doesn’t have friendly fighting, the bond will not last. A part of you had hoped that your party would be such a party just so it wouldn’t be you who ruins the marriage and therefore has to carry the alpha’s wrath. But your wish wasn’t granted the moment you watched Yoongi and Hoseok start a friendly wrestling march next to the margaritas bar.

Speaking of margaritas, you are drunk on them by now. Way too drunk, barely able to stand on two feet.

“Fuck, I need air”, you get out and turn to leave. You run your eyes over the crowd. Your family is by their table, your brother follows you with his eyes. You must be way too drunk because for a second it felt as if he was hunting you with them. You break contact, spotting Jungkook next. He is talking to one of the betas, Seokjin. He also seems terribly drunk. You look away quickly, stumbling past him on your way outside. He follows you with his eyes as you do, but you are too drunk to notice.

The night is cold. A welcome change to the stuffy air inside. Tonight is a new moon. You look up at the moonless sky. Weddings under a new moon mean that they will last long. That’s what the legends say. The new life together starts with the new cycle of the moon. First the fighting, now this. Your marriage seriously wants to last, doesn’t it?

You stumble to a quiet corner, resting against the wall. The music is blurred behind a veil of alcohol and the thick walls of the venue.

The thing is, it’s not that you had to bond with Jungkook which upsets you so much. It is the fact that it had to happen under such circumstances. You are sure that if he didn’t have to mark you in order to save your life, he would have never even thought about taking you as a mate. You know how his family thinks. A wolf with the alpha gen should mate with another wolf with the alpha gen. Bonding with an omega isn’t a thing in Jungkook’s family. And this is what scares you. You are an omega in a family of alphas and his father seems to fucking hate it. What if Jungkook hates it too? He talked about keeping you safe and not wanting to let you go, but he probably didn’t think that he would have to mate with you. He was probably high on his afterglow and talked without thinking.

“Urgh”, you let out, grinding your fangs.

But then, why was he so upset that you hesitated? Was it because he wanted to own you as quickly as possible? But he smelled heartbroken. Someone who is merely upset about not owning you wouldn’t smell like this. This is confusing you so much.

“Who knew that you would be married before me.”

You turn your head to your brother. You must be really drunk because his eyes still seem so different.

“It’s crazy to imagine that you came back and got bonded”, he says.

“Only because you fucked up and I almost had to die for it. Otherwise, Jungkook would have never had to step in and I would have never had to bond with him”, you throw back.

Your brother studies you with furrowed brows.

“Look, I said that I’m sorry and I am. It was an accident. I thought that she was a deer.”

“Tch, sure. I know you were into her. I watched you sneak away sometimes to see her. You got jealous and decided to kill her because you couldn’t bear the thought that she was to be with someone else. Admit it”, you challenge him because you know that it was bullshit. Your brother would never kill someone out of jealousy.

Something changes in your brother’s face, however. Your brother disappears, the face of an ice cold killer stares back at you. The face of a killer who killed before and who would do it again. He steps closer and you instinctively step back. Fear and the desire to flee overcomes you. It is difficult however when he has you cornered. It is a dark corner and there are no people around.

“What, what are you doing? You, you are scary”, you stutter.

“You know, you were never supposed to come back.”

“What?”

“If I were you, I’d be careful with your words from now on”, he warns, dragging the back of his hand down your face, “are we understood, sister?”

You whimper instinctively, avoiding his eyes. His touch feels like sandpaper on your skin. He comes closer. You are so scared.

“Are we under-”, he stumbles back as a strong hand tugs him away from you. It is so rough in fact that he squeaks against his will.

“Do we have a problem here?” Jungkook growls, stepping between you and your brother. He is huffing his air, torso stretching the fabric of his suit because his protectiveness is making his body grow. Your brother tries to take a step closer, but instantly stops with just one deep growl of Jungkook.

Your brother looks at you for a brief moment. The person you once knew is gone from his eyes.

“I was already leaving”, he presses out and turns his back to leave. He knows better than to pick a fight with Jungkook. He gets as far as one step before the latter pulls him back.

He tries to fight him in reaction, but gives up quickly when Jungkook renders him useless with a strong grip on his chin. His claws dimple his skin, threatening to break through. He is towering over your brother by now.

“You are the one who is going to start picking his words carefully from now on. She is under my protection now. Is that clear?”

“Is this supposed to scare me?”

“Don’t test me.” Jungkook hisses, shaking him by his chin. “I’ll let you go tonight because you’re her brother and I don’t wanna break her heart, but you threaten her again and you’re dead. Are we understood?” he snarls his words, eyes dangerously golden and sharp fangs on full display.

“Yes”, your brother croaks out.

“Speak up!” Jungkook barks, shaking him.

“Yes! I’m sorry, yes!”

“Good. Now leave, you’re ruining my wife’s mood”, Jungkook growls and pushes him away.

The man, who was once your brother, stumbles back and runs off with his tail tucked between his legs.

Jungkook stares him down until he truly left and only then, he turns to you. He puts his hands on your upper arms, touching you so gently one might never know how roughly he handled your brother seconds ago. His features are clouded over with worry. His body is smaller again and his muscles shrunk back to their relaxed size.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, studying you worriedly.

You shake your head, gasping for air in small, helpless breaths.

“Hey, sshhh you’re okay now. You’re okay”, he says, hugging you against his chest. One hand is on your back, the other on the back of your head. The calming scent of him engulfs you, masking your own frightened scent.

“People need to stop threatening me tonight”, you get out, sobbing into him.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay”, he keeps repeating the words, placing little kisses all over the crown of your head.

The fight of earlier feels far away to both of you. Especially to him.

It wasn’t long after you stumbled past him, that he followed you outside. At first he followed you with the intent of confronting you again, but then he saw that you were talking to your brother and he stayed back. Because of his heightened senses, he heard everything of your conversation with him. He also smelled your fear even before hearing your whimper and it drove up his desire to protect you to such levels that he has to tremble now that he finally holds you safe and sound.

“You’re okay. I’m here now. I’m here.”

You tilt your head up, meeting his eyes.

“This wasn’t my brother anymore.”

“I know, I’m sorry”, he says, wiping your tears.

“He murdered her. Kook, he is a murderer.”

“I heard everything. I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

“He looked at me as if he wanted to kill me too.”

“I wouldn’t have let him. He’d have been dead if he tried.”

“Kook”, you get out and hide away in his chest.

You smell so sad and heartbroken and scared. Jungkook feels parts of his body cramp from how much he trembles. He wants to protect you more than he already does. It is driving him insane that he can’t do more for you.

“Jungkook, I wanna go home but I don’t…” Your sad scent reaches its peak as tears roll down your cheeks. “I don’t even know where that is anymore”, you press out and sob.

“Hey no, don’t cry. I’ll take you home”, Jungkook says and puts his arm around you to lead you away from the venue. You let your head fall against him, crying loudly because everything is just a lot for you.

“Do we have to tell anyone? Can we just leave? What if they ask questions? I don’t know what to do anymore, I don’t-”

“Hey, everything is gonna be okay. We’re the bridal couple, they’ll just have to accept the fact that we left early.”

You nod your head in understanding. You are so glad that he took control right now. You would have been lost and overwhelmed without him.

You walk home side by side. It happens for comfort reasons that, after a while, you and he stop hugging so close. You are in nothing but your dress and he is in nothing but his suit. The streets are empty and quiet because the entire pack is currently at your wedding party.

You already walked long enough that you managed to calm down from the initial shock. It is an unspoken truth between you and him that you don’t want to talk about what happened. This means, however, that your walk is silent and that feels really awkward.

The town you grew up in hasn’t changed much ever since you were a child. The same trees still grow along the same streets, except that they are a lot taller these days. The same houses are still home to the same people and bonding nights are still held in the town’s sports hall.

Said sports hall is still close to the playground and the way home still leads through it.

You and Jungkook slow down as you walk down a metaphorical memory lane. You scraped your knee on the slide when you were eight and he had to blow on it to make it better. Jungkook sprained his ankle jumping off the swing when he was nine and you had to hold his hand as his mother rubbed it better again. Under the weeping willow, you and your friends played the silly little dares and you had your first kiss with him.

You look away from the tree, meeting Jungkook’s eyes. He looked at it as well. You turn your head away, feeling your throat tighten in panic. Jungkook feels his heart twist in reaction. The better voice in him says not to dwell on it, the love drunk idiot in him tells him to fight for it. He wins in the end.

“Wanna sit on the swings?” he suggests.

“And do what?”

“I don’t know. Swing? Sober up a little?”

You contemplate for a second, nodding your head in the end.

You weren’t even aware of how much you needed to sit until you are on the swing, stretching out your legs. You hate heels. They’re the worst shoes ever invented. You swing back and forth slowly, Jungkook does the same. This is still the same swing set you and he played on twenty years ago. The chains still leave this weird metallic smell on your hands and the rusty hinges seem to creak even more these days. You look up at the sky. The stars are so clear without the moon hiding them in her shine. You know this view all too well. In your left vision there are some branches of a maple tree and in the right a electrical pole is peaking at you. The view is familiar to you because twenty years ago, you and Jungkook sat at the same swing in the same order like you do today.

You dare to glance at him. He is looking at the sky, unaware of your eyes on him. His face is relaxed, his lips slightly parted in awe of the vast universe. His eyes are the darkest brown right now, reflecting the stars. The street lights behind him illuminate the edges of his silhouette, glimmering in parts of his dark hair as well. He is so beautiful when he thinks that no one is looking.

To think that you subconsciously chose the same swing even after all these years. He broke your heart like this fifteen years ago and now you are back, bonded. Your heart feels heavy. You shouldn’t have hesitated. You don’t know how Jungkook feels about this bond, but you get a feeling that you shouldn’t have hesitated.

A gust of wind sweeps through the playground and makes you shiver. Your teeth clatter and you wrap your arms around yourself to rub your freezing skin. He looks at you, studying you.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“It’s fine. I just wasn’t planning on being outside for so long. I only wanted to catch some air for a bit. I’m kinda drunk.”

Jungkook stands up from his swing.

You watch him, confused.

He shrugs off his suit jacket and closes the distance to put it over your shoulders. It is warmed up from him, instantly stilling your shivers. It also smells like him, making you just a little droopy. He hovers his hands over your shoulders because he doesn’t know if you want his touch, talking in a soft voice.

“Is this better?”

“Yeah, thanks”, you whisper, feeling your heart race.

“Good. Keep it. I’m too hot anyway”, he says and leaves your side to sit down next to you.

He swings back and forth gently, watching some leaves dance on the ground as the wind carries them. Now is the perfect opportunity to talk, but he feels mute. He doesn’t want to fuck it up. Or perhaps he just doesn’t want to get hurt again.

He dances his eyes over the playground, reminiscing on all the memories he shares with you here. You and he could have been so right and then his father fucked him up. Jungkook forces down the heavy lump in his throat.

“What’s wrong?”

He looks at you with widened eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m an omega. I can smell when people around me are upset.”

“Ah. I don’t know. I guess, just thinking of old stuff”, he says and rubs the side of his neck.

“Yeah. Lots of memories here”, you say and sigh.

Jungkook sees it as his cue to ask you what he had planned to ask you before he witnessed you with your brother instead.

“Why did you hesitate?”

You almost fall off the swing in shock. Jungkook takes your hand, providing you with support. He feels vast of air when you instinctively squeeze him back and intertwine your fingers deeper. There they are again. Those mixed signals. You say one thing, but do the other. You do another thing, but say the complete opposite. Jungkook can barely take the confusion anymore, repeating his question again.

“I get it that you were nervous, but it looked like you didn’t want to kiss me at all. Why?”

“I just…”, you pull your hand back, swinging gently to soothe yourself.

Jungkook swings as well, looking at you.

“All of this is a lot for me. I went from a normal woman to a sex slave by a snatch to an omega marked, to a wife in the span of two weeks. This is a lot to work through.”

“Yeah, when you put it like this, it really is.”

“I didn’t think that our little stunt in the shed would lead to this.”

“Yeah honestly, neither did I. I thought that they would want us to date for a little and that’s it.”

“Yeah”, you agree and glance at him. “I’m scared that you are only doing this because your dad forced you. That’s why I hesitated. I saw the way he looked at me.”

“Don’t think about him. He is old and unhappy. He didn’t force me. Not when I…I dreamt of having you as my wife ever since I’ve known you.”

“What?”

You stop swinging. Jungkook stops as well, turning with the swing to face you.

“I think that’s why I kissed you. The priest wanted to announce that it’s invalid and I panicked and went in. I just needed to know that this wouldn’t be lost forever.”

“Oh my god, you dreamed of bonding with me?” you press out, eyes full of emotions.

“Ever since I’ve known you. Well, you know, ever since I knew what bonding meant. I always wanted it to be with you.”

“Kook…”

He rests his head against the metal chain, reaching his hands out for you. You turn with your swing and take his hands, feeling your pulse in your neck because of how high he raises it. His thumbs draw hearts on your skin, his eyes are so soft.

“Yeah, I guess it’s out there now”, he says, laughing softly.

“It is”, you whisper and squeeze his hands.

Jungkook squeezes them right back, smiling with his eyes before it washes over his lips as well.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this on the same swing set you best friend broke up with me when we were twelve.”

He laughs, lifting his brows for it. It’s such a cute laugh, making you laugh with him.

“Correction, where I was forced to best friend break up with you ‘cause my dad is a control freak.”

“Right. I’m sorry that your dad sucks.”

"Yeah, I guess I got used to it. He’s my dad, that’s how he is.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook says and lets go of your hands to twirl back to the front. He takes a deep breath and stands up.

“Where are you going?”

“If I remember correctly, you always loved the swing the most.”

“I did, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

He walks behind you and puts his hands on the chain of the swing.

“Hold on tight.”

“Huh? Oh!”

He pushes you, making you swing back and forth. You squeal, having to laugh afterwards. Jungkook snickers with you, pushing you a second time to make you swing higher. Your shared laughter dances through the playground and in this short moment in life’s series of moments, you and he feel like kids again. There are no responsibilities lingering in the back of your heads, no fears of the future, no stresses of past days nor dreams ruined by reality. You and he are twelve again, using the swings after a long day of playing adventurers in the forests. The stars shine brighter and the wind doesn’t feel that cold anymore. You are alive again, flying to the very stars with each push Jungkook gives you.

“Not too high please, I’ll get scared”, you squeal, feeling tears of laughter run down your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, I won’t push you too high. I never did, remember?”

You and he talk as he continues to push you on the swing.

“If I remember correctly, you sometimes pushed me way too high because you were a gremlin like that.”

“A gremlin? Wow, okay”, he laughs and pushes you extra hard as playful revenge.

“Hey! No, it’s too high!” you squeak, laughing way too much.

Jungkook does it again.

“Kook please! I’m gonna fall, ah!”

And it happens. Your drunk ass falls off the swing. You squeal, preparing for impact which never comes. Instead he catches you in his strong arms, looking down at you with protective, caring eyes.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah, thanks”, you whisper, watching his lips move. You giggle, dropping your head on his shoulder, “fuck, I’m too clumsy for this.”

“Hah, yeah.”

Jungkook noticed that you looked at his lips. For just a second, he wanted to kiss you. In the end, he didn’t. He won’t ever kiss you again without your consent.

He sets you down gently, holding both your hands against his chest. You look up at him, feeling a little robbed of air. His eyes race between yours as if he trying to build connection between your souls with just one look.

“I promise to be a good husband to you. No harm shall ever come to you through my hands and if I should ever break this promise, it is your right to strike me down. You have my body as protection and my heart to find a home in, ___. You always have and you always will.”

“You keep saying that. Does it mean..?”

“It does. It means that I love you and that I’ll do anything to make you happy.” He exhales shakily. “I know that you don’t feel the same and I’m sorry again that I kissed you. Please, can you forgive-”

You put your finger on his lips, silencing him. He whimpers a little because of it.

“Can I say something now? Please?”

“Of course”, he says and steps back, fumbling with his own hands nervously.

“I’m not mad at you anymore that you kissed me. I, I was planning to kiss you, I was. I just, I saw your dad and he wasn’t howling and then I thought that we’re only in this situation because you had to save me. And I panicked and I was scared that we’d regret it and yeah.”

He nods his head in understanding, lowering his eyes sadly. You take his hand.

“It meant something to me too.”

He meets your emotional eyes, feeling emotional himself.

“It meant something to me, maybe not the same as it did to you but it did mean something to me. I wanted to tell you this, but didn’t know how. I get nervous when I’m cornered and I forget my words and then say dumb stuff.”

“I get it. I’m sorry that I cornered you. I guess I have the tendency to be pushy when I’m nervous. I shouldn’t have cornered you, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah well, I should have said something. I liked what we did in the shed and it meant something to me.” You put his hand on your stomach. “You were alive inside me and it was the best feeling I ever experienced.”

Jungkook sighs your name, instinctively drawing closer to you.

“But we also barely know each other as adults. What if we realize that we’re not right as mates once we get to know each other?”

“I don’t think that will happen. I’m still the same than I was before, just older.”

“You’re an alpha these days.”

“I am and I’ll use this status to provide for you and to keep you safe. I promise.”

“Really?” you whisper, looking up at him with those same puppy eyes you had in the shed.

Jungkook feels weak in the knees. Those eyes are lethal to him.

“Yes, really. All I want is someone to provide for, someone to care for and protect. And for that someone to be you. I just. I wanna keep you safe, ___”, he says.

“Oh”, you let out and exhales shakily.

“Mhm, yeah”, he breathes and brushes the back of his fingers down your temple.

“But”, you begin.

“Yes?”

“But not too much. I don’t want you to get hurt”, you say and trace his upper lip. The cut healed by now, but the memory of how it looked is still in your mind. Jungkook chases your touch, closing his fingers around your wrists. He holds you tenderly, tracing the spots most sensitive with his thumbs.

“Alright, not too much”, he whispers, smiling softly.

You share silence, looking at the other. Jungkook is the one to break it.

“We’ll get to know each other again and it’s gonna be nice. I want to make this work”, he whispers.

“I wanna make it work too. Not for the sake of my safety or anything, but because I wanna love you too.”

“You do?”

You nod your head.

Jungkook exhales shakily, closing the distance for a kiss. He stops just a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

You give him your answer by erasing the remaining distance, connecting your lips with his’. His knees buckle, his arms instantly fall around you to hold you close. The world around you seems non-existent as your lips are lost in the kind of kiss a bonded couple should exchange. It is epic. Jungkook feels so alive. He knows that if he tried hard enough, he could touch the stars.

You feel the same. This kiss is your reminder that whatever you and he have is out of your control. It is a bond made by fate, formed under a new moon. This is how you felt in the shed when he was alive inside you.

Those feelings are heightened because of the alcohol, forcing you closer to him. Which makes him lose control for just a second, ending in you pressed up against the swing set post and with his hand on your lower back.

It knocks out a soft moan from you. Jungkook answers it in a deep purr, sliding his right hand to your cheek to tilt your head higher. He sucks on your lower lip, ending it with a gentle bite.

The effect is instant for you. Slick begins to gather between your legs, your head gets droopy and everything inside you screams at you to give yourself to him.

Breathing shakily, you break the kiss. He stays close, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes and parted lips.

“Oh my god”, you whisper, tracing your own lips. They’re tingling from what he did.

“Yeah. Right?” he agrees, scrunching his nose and stubbing your temple with his forehead in a gesture of adoration. “Who’d have known that we’d kiss like this here”, he says, gazing at you.

Your eyes soften in submission. Jungkook feels drawn to you beyond repair.

“Keep looking at me with those eyes and we won’t reach home tonight”, he rasps, touching your waist as he basically undresses you with his eyes. “I’d take you right here and now. Make you feel so good that you see new constellations.”

Drunk you cannot handle talk like this, breaking into giddy giggles and hiding away in his chest.

“Are you laughing at me?” he gasps.

“No, oh god no. It’s just, nobody ever talked to me like this before”, you explain yourself between giggles, nuzzling closer.

Jungkook chuckles, rubbing your back.

“Get used to it. I realised that I’m kinda outta control when it comes to you. Maybe it’s the alpha gen.”

“Maybe”, you look up at him with pretty puppy eyes, arms wrapped around his waist and chin resting against his chest.

He stubs your nose with his own, hands groping your butt possessively.

“Stop looking at me.”

“It’s hard. When you touch me, I also lose control. I think it’s the omega gen.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just a lightweight.”

“Hah! So you’re saying I’m just drunk?”

“Basically, yeah.”

You snicker, Jungkook grins.

“Come on, let’s go home before I actually do something indecent to you.”

You gladly let him hold your hand now that his kiss triggered your affectionate instincts, following him in happy steps.

Your walk home ends at Jungkook’s house. Two stories high and with a big garden surrounding it, it was one of the more luxurious houses in town.

“This is where we’ll live?”

“If you want to. I figured, you know, given how you still live with your parents and I’m living alone, we could use my place. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Yes? Great then we can get your stuff in the coming days. But for now, let me do this right”, he says and swoops you off your feet.

“Ah”, you let out, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you over the threshold. Why?”

“Nothing, it’s so”, you stop talking to giggle instead, nuzzling your nose against his cheek. “It’s so cheesy.”

Jungkook chuckles, heart racing in his chest. He kicks the door closed behind him and does a twirl in the middle of his hallway.

“Wait! I’m too drunk for this! Eeek”, you squeak, hiding away in his neck. “Please stop, I’m too dizzy.”

Luckily for you, Jungkook listens. He stops and sets you down, holding you close as you sway.

“This wasn’t funny. Oh god, I’m dizzy”, you laugh, dropping your forehead against his chest. He rests his cheek against your head, talking in a chuckle.

“See? Told you. Total lightweight.”

“I’m not a lightweight. You’re just a gremlin”, you say and shove at his chest. He laughs, holding your hands.

“You’re adorable. Come, dance with me”, he says, placing your left hand on his neck and holding the other.

“Dance? Right now?”

“Yeah. Just you and I. We’ll do it right this time.”

“But I’m dizzy.” You step on his foot, making him groan. “And I have two left feet when drunk. Sorry, are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m more than okay”, he says, smiling at you as your bodies move to silent melodies.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, baby. Just look at me”, he whispers, right hand on your lower back. It is so warm.

You look up at him. The pull is magnetic and fucking electric. You are so attracted to him. He has you feeling drunker than any amount of alcohol ever could. You are so fuzzy inside because of all the laughing you have been doing.

“You have the most beautiful eyes ever”, Jungkook whispers, raising your pulse with it.

“Kook, I”, you begin, eyes flitting to his lips. Merely seeing the shape of them is enough to reignite the flames in your stomach. Dancing becomes a little harder now that you are so excited.

“What’s the matter?” he whispers.

“It’s embarrassing”, you confess with a heated face.

“Tell me.”

“No, it’s so stupid. I don’t even wanna do it but it just happens.”

He guides his touch from your lower back to your waist. Gentle and loving but insanely possessive at the same time. “I promise I won’t laugh.”

You hesitate.

“Promise.”

“I’m, uh, there is slick.”

Jungkook draws closer, making you chase his kiss.

“Shit. There is?”

“Yeah”, you whimper.

He lowers his eyes, making you taste the idea of his kiss. It makes you so desperate for him.

“Is this normal for you or….”

You shake your head, “it never happened before. Not like this. Or that easily. I don’t know, I’m sorry, I can’t stop it.”

“Holy fuck. Baby.”

“It’s so stupid.”

“No, it’s not. Just kiss me.”

You kiss him. At least you try to because before your lips can touch, you step on his toes again. Vigorously.

“Ouch, hey”, he gasps, flinching back.

“Sorry! Oh my god, sorry. Are you okay?"

“Ah fuck”, he laughs, “yeah, I’m okay. You’re a terrible dancer.”

“Hey”, you pout.

He chuckles and pecks your cheek.

“I want to show you one thing before we make it official”, he says.

“Show me, please.”

“Follow me. You can leave your shoes by the door.”

Jungkook’s home is somehow exactly how you imagined it to be. It is neat and tidy, but doesn’t really have a lot of character. The rooms are spacious with little furniture filling them. The furniture is modern and there are barely any decorations present. It is the house of someone who doesn’t feel at home in it. The desire to make it cozy and homey for him becomes stronger and stronger within you. There are already a million ideas swarming your head.

“You’re quiet. Do you not like it here?” Jungkook asks you.

“No, it’s not that. I’m thinking.”

"About what?”

“It’s gonna sound silly.”

“Tell me.”

“I already have so many ideas on how to make it cozier here. Sorry, I know it’s your house and everything.”

Jungkook steps close and cradles your face, making you look up at him.

“And it’s your home. Make it as cozy as you want to”, he speaks softly, eyes warm and caring.

“Really?”

He nods, kissing your forehead.

“This place never felt like a home to me anyway. It can use the caring touch of an omega.”

You can’t explain how he makes you feel because you never experienced it before. The best way to describe it is cozy and safe. You want to curl up close to him and be yourself with him. This is how he makes you feel. As if you are allowed to be your truest You.

“Speaking of cozy omegas, we’re here.”

“Here where?”

“My surprise for you. I worked hard on it these past few days.”

He opens the door for you, allowing you view of one of the coziest rooms you have ever seen. It is filled with soft surfaces to lie on. A bed, a big sofa, some bean bags, a window bench. Curtains frame the window and the bed. The floor is covered in soft rugs. There are pillows to sink into on every surface and he installed fairy lights on the wall and the bed frame.

“What’s this?” you gasp.

“It’s your nest.”

You look at him. He is clearly nervous, smelling of it as well.

“I’m still new to the entire omega heat thing. I know that they’re a thing, obviously, and I know that you like to get cozy for them. I looked up nest inspirations online. It told me that you like lots of pillows and blankets and that I should make it cozy and warm. You can totally change everything in this room, of course.” He touches the side of his neck. “I just thought that I’d try to make it comfortable for you. At least maybe? I don’t know, I just wanna make it nice for you.”

Your lower lip trembles.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna make you cry. Is it that bad? I’m sorry, I suck at interior design.”

You shake your head and fall around his neck, “thank you.”

Jungkook closes his arms around you, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You smell of happiness right now.

“Does this mean you like it?” he asks.

“I love it so much. I never had a nest before. I’m so happy.”

“You are?”

“Yes, so much.”

You step back, giving him a smile. Jungkook retorts it. You giggle and turn so you can hurry through the room.

Jungkook watches you, enjoying the droopy feelings in his chest. The longer you are in the room and the more details you spot, the stronger your scent of happiness gets. It almost fills up the entire room by now, making him feel so warm and complete. He feels at home in his house for the very first time.

“This is so cozy, oh my god. So soft, wow. I love this colour, holy moly. Wow. So cozy. Wow”, you gush and gasp as you inspect everything and anything.

You end up dropping into one of the beanbags, nuzzling into it as deep as possible while you purr in contentment.

Jungkook feels his knees buckle. He got you to purr. Holy fuck, he was seriously placed on this earth to treat you right.

He closes the distance between you and him, kneeling down in front of you. He comes closer, putting his weight on his elbow which he rests on the beanbag above your head. He leans down to kiss your cheek.

You stop your nuzzling, gasping quietly as his sudden closeness surprises you. You look up and can’t look away again.

“You’re the most beautiful bride I have ever seen”, he whispers, cradling your cheek with his other hand.

“Oh”, you let out, feeling dizzy.

“No wonder I had to kiss you.” He furrows his brows. “I know I shouldn’t have done this and I’m sorry.”

“I’m not angry anymore. You built me a nest”, you tear up, “Jungkook, please give me my bonding night. I want to be with you.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“So sure, please. I can’t take it anymore.” You shiver. “I keep producing slick and I’m so cold without you and, and I wanna feel that good again. Like we did in the shed. I, I wanna feel like this again. Please.”

Jungkook closes his fist on the beanbag, trying to keep himself at bay. His instincts threaten to kick in when you beg like this.

“Do you want it here?”

“Yes, please.”

“And you know what I’ll do to you? What might happen again?”

You deepen the lethalness of your puppy eyes, taking his hand to put it over your stomach. You whisper your words, turning him into puddy.

“I want to feel alive again. Together with you.”

“Holy fuck, ___”, Jungkook croaks and goes in for a kiss. He growls and stops himself. “I need you to say that you understand. Please, don’t make me do it without hearing it first.”

“Yes, Kook. I know what you’ll do to me. I need you to, please.”

“Thank you. Oh my god baby, I wanna treat you so right”, he croaks out and finally falls into the kiss. “I’ll never ever force myself onto you again. Never. Fucking never. Holy fuck, baby”, he babbles between kisses, turning you into a weak, turned on mess. “Wanna treat you so right. My baby. Mine.”

His touch is everywhere at the same time, unable to decide where to find its home. It feels so good. Each spot he touches, tingles and heats up. Whenever he changes spots, it leaves behind shivers and goosebumps before the entire process repeats itself again.

You want to keep kissing him, but soon have to stop because of his touch. You have to gasp for air, you would suffocate otherwise.

Jungkook, barely holding onto the threat of humanity by now, doesn’t see any problem in being denied your lips. He kisses a path to your neck hungrily. Your aroused smell becomes stronger and stronger the closer he gets to your scent glands. He knows how good it feels when someone kisses his scent spots and he wonders if it is the same for you.

He kisses the spot on your left side, forcing you to arch your back and gasp loudly. You instinctively grasp his back.

“Do you like this?” he rasps his words, nibbling on the sensitive spot. You smell so good. Jungkook has never felt such an obsession with another’s scent before. He needs it all over his body, melted with his skin so everyone can smell who his heart belongs to. He can’t stop kissing you, picking up more and more of your scent.

“Does this feel good?” he asks again because you were too busy gasping the first time.

“Ye-yeah”, you gasp out, staring at the ceiling in shock. Your fingers twitch and tremble on his back, claws threatening to come out and slice open his shirt.

What is happening to you? You were kissed on your neck before, but this feels different. This feels lethal, fateful, like it is changing the way you view pleasure. You have never felt so electric before and so close to losing control.

“You smell so good, I can’t get enough.”

“Wow, oh god, wow…”

Jungkook stays on your left side until he can smell your arousal on his lips. Only then, does he kiss a sloppy path to your right side. He moans when he witnesses you roll your head to the side willingly and he moans again when he goes in to worship your hard working scent spot. And it is working hard. Fucking hell, you smell like pure sex and arousal. Jungkook huffs it up hungrily, biting and licking at the delicious spot.

All while you stare and gasp and lose control over yourself. The bites feel so good. You want to squirm and moan. Your head is fuzzy, your body so weakened. What is happening? What the fuck is happening to you? You can’t stop producing more slick. You are so hot. Seriously, so fucking hot. Oh god, you can’t think anymore. Anything you can think is how much you need him to fuck you.

“Seriously, fuck”, Jungkook comes up for air, mouthing at your cheek drunkenly, “you smell so good. I feel high.”

“I wanna be naked”, you croak out, arching your back. You don’t have many thoughts except desire and sex. Being naked is all you crave right now. If you’re naked, Jungkook can potentially bite more parts of you. This is the logic of your fuzzy mind and it is driving you crazy that it isn’t your reality yet.

“Sit up then and let me open your dress.”

You obey gladly, almost dry heaving in desire. Jungkook reaches behind you and opens your dress. He wanted to pull it off slowly to make the moment romantic, but you shrug it off quickly for him.

He meets your eyes. They are golden and clouded in desire.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks.

“Why not?”

“I never saw you naked before.”

“Oh.” A little clarity returns to your eyes. “Right.”

He can smell hints of coyness in your scent. And a little bit of nervousness.

“Wrap your arms around me.”

You obey his order and like this, Jungkook is able to lift you out of your dress and carry you to bed. He lays you down carefully, straddling your lap without sitting down.

You are below him in nothing but your underwear, feeling small and fragile, but so safe.

“Do you wanna take it slower?” he suggests.

“No, just nervous that’s all.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. We can slow down whenever you need to.”

“Okay”, you whisper and make puppy eyes at him, “can you, uhm, can you bite me more?”

“Yes. Wow this is…hah. Of course”, he lets out, “first, let me match you.”

He is getting undressed. First his tie, then he opens his buttons. His shirt leaves him first, next his belt and last his slacks. He stays in his briefs, heavy cock straining the fabric as much as he soaks it.

Now sharing in your state of undress, he leans down, taking your hands to pin them gently. He kisses you, blurring your thoughts into one big mess of arousal and safety. His thumbs caress your hands as he kisses you. Your scent is on his face, forcing even more slick to run out of you. Any sort of nervousness you felt is getting wiped out with each new kiss you share. He tastes so goddamn good. His lips are soft and the piercings on them are so exciting to feel.

The kiss breaks when air is sparse. Jungkook stays close to paint paths of worship down your body. He bites the softest spots and sucks marks of ownership on the firmer spots. And you are in heaven, wishing for him to never stop. Such heavenly feelings are unfamiliar to you. You had people mark you before, but it didn’t feel like this. With Jungkook, you need him to continue. You need to know that every single inch of you is marked by him in one way or the other. Whether it be a bite mark, a kiss spot or his scent, you need it on your body and each time he gives it to you, you leak more slick. It is out of your control, unfamiliar and amazing. So amazing.

Jungkook is lingering over your sternum right now, hot breath tickling your skin. His strong hands are holding you under your armpits, reminding you that you were owned by the safest lover.

“I know it’s difficult for you, but please stop me if I go too fast. I can’t stop myself once I let go, so I need you to yell it at me.”

“Please. Don’t stop. Please, you feel so good”, you sigh, writhing.

“Wow, I….fuck, I want you”, he rasps, having to kiss every inch of you. “I want you. I want you so bad.”

“Ah…please…don’t stop…”

Jungkook reaches your breasts. They are swollen and plumb from arousal. They aren’t always like this. When you are feeling normal, they also look and feel normal. They are how breasts are supposed to be, sagging from gravity and soft when lying down. Not right now. They stay in place. They are a little bigger, plumber and hot to the touch. They also smell like your arousal. Even through the fabric of your bra. It is so much sweeter and richer than it was on your neck. Jungkook moans like a druggy having found his drug, going in for a taste with an open mouth and way too much tongue.

“Ah”, you whimper, following it up with a submissive mewl. You are losing control again and it feels so good. Why does everything he does feel so good? It is as if you are a virgin being touched for the very first time, which is insane because you definitely aren’t.

“Your skin’s so soft and warm. I can’t get enough of you”, he mumbles between his hungry kisses, turning you into puddy. You lost sense of how much more you can still take before you burst.

His masculine, possessive hands hold your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh desperately. His spit soaks the fabric of your bra, leaving behind spots of coldness whenever he moves on to a new spot.

It happens again. You experience sensations you have never felt before. People played with your tits before, you played with them as well but it never felt like this. It never felt so otherworldly. They are so swollen. You can’t breathe because there is so much pressure building up behind your nipples. You throw your hand over your mouth to muffle the overwhelmed sob, twisting the sheets with your other hand. It hurts. The pressure really hurts not to be taken care of.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to hear your panicked whimper because he doesn’t slow down in his feast.

“Your scent, I’m so high. It’s insane, holy fuck, so good…”

It gets too much for you. The pressure hurts so much. You’re scared. What is happening to you?

Jungkook squeezes your breasts and bites down gently. The pressure bursts. You wail, arching your back as warmth trickles out of your nipples, soaking your bra.

The sweet scent of it hits his nose instantly. He tenses up and shudders, cock threatening to burst through his briefs.

“What the-”

Jungkook’s instincts tell him to rip your bra off and lick up the sweet scent, but he forces himself to be stronger than them. It is you who lies below him in such a vulnerable state. If he took advantage of that, he would never forgive himself.

“Jungkook, help me. Please. I’m scared”, you beg him in a quivering voice.

“Try to focus on me. Focus baby, right here”, he tells you, cradling your cheeks.

Your eyes search aimlessly for a moment, but soon find their home in his gaze.

“Koo”, you whimper, grabbing his wrists, “I’m scared. What is happening to me?”

“I don’t know. It never happened to me before. My instincts tell me to clean it for you, but I don’t know if you want this.”

“Please, it hurts. Just make it stop, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please”, you sob.

“Sit up.”

You barely manage to obey. Jungkook supports you, using his other hand to open your bra and tug it off of you. He throws it to the side, helping you lie down again.

Your breasts, normally victims to gravity, stay plumb and perky as you lie down. It is yet another proof that whatever he is doing to you is working beyond comprehension.

“Holy fuck, ___, your tits”, Jungkook gets out, gawking at them in total awe. They are seriously so swollen, your nipples are so hard and they seem to keep leaking pearlescent liquid. “You’re so beautiful, but holy fuck they’re so swollen. Baby, wow.,”

“I don’t know what’s happening. They’re so… so…there’s so much pressure.”

“I can’t. Oh god.”

If only you and he knew that this is happening to you because he stimulated your scent glands. If only you knew that simulation of said glands only works this well with your true mate. You could have a hundred other men play with your tits the same way Jungkook did, but your body would never fall into such helplessness with any of them. Only he will get you to such levels of pleasure. Because it is only his mouth which is destined to taste your sweet pleasure.

You and he are unaware of this fact however, because this is still new to both of you.

“What, what do you need me to do?” He stutters, salivating.

“I don’t know. Your instincts, I don’t- ah.”

“Right.” His eyes glow golden. “My instincts”, he growls and gives in to the voices. “Stay still, I’ll take care of it.”

He picks up your tits and squeezes them together so your nipples are close to each other. He lowers his dripping mouth to them, taking in your right first but with the intention that your left will follow very soon.

His instincts tell him to stimulate your nipples with soft bites first until they are throbbing and then change to sucking them. He listens to his instincts, getting you to moan so loudly that his cock throbs painfully.

“Is this working, baby?” he asks, drooling all over your sweet nipples.

“Oh god, yeah”, you croak, arching your back. You twist the sheets, curling your toes. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Koo thank you…”

“Fuuuck baby, so hot”, he drags out his words until it turns into a growl instead, loving you oh so right.

He bites and bites, licks whenever you sob and bites some more, all while his strong fingers knead your plumpness. And then it happens. You arch your back and wail up as his stimulation finally forces your breasts to tighten and throb. Liquid shoots into his mouth and down his throat. It is the sweetest taste he ever had on his tongue, intoxicating him beyond saving. Jungkook’s eyes roll back, he thinks that for a second he blacks out before he comes back to be totally guided by his instincts.

He gurgles and moans, sucking the sweet nectar from your right nipple while his fingers play with your left just to keep it ready for him. It is a messy business and whenever he changes sides, he has to lick up the mess he made before he can suck on your nipple. It is not a terrible fate. On the contrary, it’s heaven. For both. Jungkook has never felt this high before while you love his tongue on your body. He is so hot and soft, giving you the perfect contrast to the sharp bites his fangs give you.

“Kook oh god, Kook ah! Ah! A-ah!”

You spill tears, grabbing your own face to muffle yourself and make sense of what is happening to you. This is life altering. You are in a constant state of genuine orgasmic bliss and it doesn’t want to die down. You can literally feel how Jungkook sucks the liquid out of you, relieving you of the painful pressure as he does it. It helps so much, while at the same time making everything worse.

He might help you with the nectar of your breasts, but your body still keeps producing slick. And it is getting dangerously full inside you. Your panties feel like imprisonment to your cunt.

You twist a bundle of his hair, sobbing in ecstasy and desperation.

“Koo, I’m scared, it’s so good”, you sob, trembling.

Your touch motivates him. He is starving for you even though he is currently feasting on you. He seemed to have sucked you dry. No matter how much he bites and sucks, your nipples stay dry. The starvation remains. He needs more of you.

“More, give me more please”, he orders, growling his words between vigorous sucks.

“I, I can’t. Ah, Kook ah.”

“Fuck, I can’t stop. You’re so sweet.”

He can’t take a break, he needs more of you. He lets your scent guide him. It gets stronger and stronger, the closer he comes to your cunt. Don’t be mistaken however, it is not your pussy which calls him, but your inner thighs. Your scent glands to be more specific. Working overtime to produce your arousing smell and begging for attention. They are the most sensitive of your scent spots, but you don’t know that yet. You had men kiss you there before, but none of them were Jungkook. None were your mate.

Jungkook shoves your legs open and buries his face in your right thigh with a growl. His fingers dimple your softness, his fangs tickle your skin. Not long and he bites you.

Your entire body reacts to it. You tense and flinch as if he shocked you, letting out a howl of surprise. Your empty cunt aches, craving nothing more than him.

Jungkook lifts his head, eyes droopy and drugged and lips still glossy from your tits.

“Is like a drug. You is like a drug”, he lulls his words and drops his face back in your thigh. Your left one for a change. He kisses and licks it, grabbing your waist possessively. He holds you with such strength that he even manages to bring it in a little, forcing you to burn in a fire you were never in before.

“I fucking want you, fucking need you, fuck can’t get enough.”

“I’m so hot, I-I’m so hot.”

“So hot, so fucking soft. Fuck, your smell drives me insane.”

“Oh god, Kook. I’m so hot.”

The thing about omegas and heats is that it isn’t as common as one might think. Before an omega has reached maturity, heats obviously aren’t a thing. Afterwards, they are manageable when living with other family members. They feel more as if you were bad mooded and grumpy. You managed to sleep them off whenever they happened.

Burning in this unfamiliar fire as Jungkook repeatedly bites your sensitive scent spots makes you realize that perhaps you have never truly experienced a real heat before. Maybe it slumbers in an omega until they are with their true mate. Maybe the grumpy days are just nature’s way of saving the omega of embarrassing moments in front of family.

You can’t explain why you know, but this is it. This is the real deal. Jungkook stimulated your sensitive glands for long enough that he forces you to go into heat. It feels different from anything you have ever experienced, it even feels different from the thing you thought to be your heat when he was with you in the shed. You were wrong back then, this is it. This is the real thing.

And it scares you so much that you beg for him. He comes up when hearing your distraught, cradling your face. He is clearly far away, seeming changed as well. The only thing having forced him away from you is his stronger instinct of keeping you safe. His dark hair is a mess, his eyes are foggy.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he lulls his words.

“I’m, I’m in heat.”

“What? It can happen like this?”

“When you bit my scent spots, it made me…oh god, please make it stop please.”

“What, uhm, what do you need?”

“You. Please fuck me. I beg you.”

“Holy fuck, I-” Jungkook stops himself, growling deeply and twisting the pillow above your head, “something’s wrong with me. I’m losing control over myself.”

“Koo”, you croak, touching his chest. He is burning up, muscles swollen and tense. His heart races like crazy, unnaturally fast at that.

“What is happening to me?” he stresses.

“I don’t know.”

If only you and he knew that his accidental efforts of forcing you into heat, forced him into his ruts with you. If only you knew that these are the effects of being with your true mate. If only you knew that the only remedy is sex. But you don’t know and so you and he are fated to stumble through the unknown, still doing the right things because your instincts are stronger than anything else. It is as if your bodies do the talking without you and him having to speak their language yet. It is most certain that you will be fluent in it one day.

“I want to rip your panties off.”

"Please do.”

Jungkook gives in and does as he wants. He rips your panties off, throwing the thin piece of fabric over his shoulder. He rips off his own briefs next, discarding the fabric. His heavy, thick cock slaps your stomach. He is so big and swollen by now that he can barely stand up despite his hardened nature. His slick pools in your navel and smears all over your skin.

“Holy fuck, urgh fuck”, he drops his head in your neck, “it hurt so much to keep it in.”

“Kook, you’re so heavy.”

“I know, I’m so hard that I can’t keep it standing. I…” He lifts his head, cradling your cheek. “Say you want me.”

“I want you.”

Jungkook shifts his hips so his cock probes at your entrance. You whimper and open your legs widely, putting them around his meaty thighs.

“Just the tip”, he whispers.

“What? No”, you get out and pout.

Jungkook chuckles, cradling your cheek.

“You know, like last time.”

“Oh”, a giggle shakes you and makes your face glow.

He chuckles, soaking up the moment of honest happiness like a dried up sponge would water. Each time he hears your laugh, he falls more in love with you.

“Just the tip when it didn’t mean anything and we shouldn’t have done it.”

Your giggle changes into a sigh of his name. You gaze into his eyes, building soul consuming connection.

“Right?”

“Right.”

Jungkook allows his tip to fill you. Just enough to let you feel that he was finally there with you. You whimper, spilling tears of relief.

Jungkook wipes them, spilling his own tears. He loves you. This is it. The moment it is official that you are mates. And it happens exactly how he always dreamed it would. You under him, looking so vulnerable and safe as he can gaze into your eyes and see your face change in pleasure.

“This means everything to me”, he croaks out and buries himself inside you to the base. “Ah.” He twists the pillow.

“Oh god. Ah.”

“Too deep? Hurts?”

“No, it’s perfect. I feel, ah, I feel whole.”

Jungkook moans your name, eyes filling with emotion.

You touch his messy hair, scratching him behind his ear. Jungkook shivers, eyes threatening to roll back. You are stimulating one of his scent spots, forcing him deeper into his ruts.

“Okay. If you. Fuck. This is my scent spot. It feels. Ahm. I, I have to fuck you”, he struggles with his words, cock throbbing inside you as if it had his own pulse.

Throb. Throb. Throb.

He fills you with more of his slick each time he twitches. It tingles whenever he does.

“Please don’t hold back. Fuck me like you need to, please”, you whimper, shaking in agony. You tickle his scent spot especially good and it’s over for him.

Jungkook’s fingers slip from control. He can’t hold back anymore. He knows that you can take it.

He pulls out only to slam into you again in a deep, passionate rhythm. In and out. In and out. It is endless and harsh and feels so fucking good.

Your eyes instantly roll back and stay there. Your fingers dimple the nape of his neck as you clutch him for dear life. Jungkook himself can’t keep his eyes focused, gazing at you through a veil of blurriness.

“Is this good for you?” he gets out through gritted teeth.

“Good”, you wail, writhing in ecstasy.

“Fuck, I’m fucking high on you.”

He thought that he knew the feeling of your cunt but this is different. This actually forces him to listen to nothing but his instincts. He thought that he was out of control in the shed, but he wasn’t. This is it. You are so hot around him, so soft and you are filled with slick to the very brim. It is Jungkook’s task to fuck it out of you in heavy, strong thrusts, making a mess of your bodies and the sheets in the process. He isn’t aware of it yet but this gives you so much relief. You were bursting inside and now it is finally leaving you. There is no muscle in your body which isn’t currently puddy. Everything you exist for right now is to be fucked by him. There is no other sensation to you than that of his thick cock reshaping your insides.

“Baby, this is a lot. Holy fuck, this is argh”, Jungkook gets out, scrunching his face in anger. He wants to go deeper, but he can’t. It pisses him off, makes him want to break shit. He knows it’s this stupid position. Fucking good for nothing. Who thinks of something that unfavourable? (Jungkook will think back to this moment once he is clear in his head and wonder why he hated missionary so much.) But he hates it right now. He can’t even see himself inside you, his base is barely inside.

“More, I need more”, he growls and pulls out.

“No please, please it hurts please”, you instantly beg.

“Patient, I’m rearranging you.”

Jungkook takes your legs and guides them into a better position. You let him reshape you. This is what your body currently exists for and wants. It needs someone as strong and dominant as Jungkook to bend it to his will. Each second where he handles you feels like heaven.

He puts your legs over his shoulders.

“Hands.”

You obey, giving them to him. He puts them on your own thighs, squeezing them against the back of them.

“Hold them for me there. I want you to feel yourself shake.”

“Yes”, you whimper.

“Good omega. What a perfect thing you are”, he lulls and slides his hands to your ankles. He picks them off his shoulders and lifts them up. Like this, he opens you for him. Your butt is lifted off the sheets, your cunt instantly gushes out masses of slick.

“I can’t keep it in”, you confess.

“It’s good, baby. You don’t have to. Relax”, Jungkook assures you in a hungry whisper, eyes a deep gold and mesmerised by you. He moves his hips close and buries his heavy cock back in you.

You mewl, curling your toes. Slick drips onto the sheets as it makes space for his girthy length, you feel whole again.

“There we go, fuck”, Jungkook growls and bottoms out. He stays there for nothing but a second before he pulls out again to pick up a punishing rhythm.

It feels so good that your eyes roll back and you resort to moaning and wailing for him. Jungkook moans with you each time he is deep inside you. This finally scratches the itch. This is finally as deep as he can go. He can finally see himself inside you. Finally he can see how his thick cock reshapes your swollen cunt. He is so big and you take him so easily, moving and trembling around him as he repeatedly pounds you stupid. If you keep this up, he might get pussy drunk.

“I can’t take this. You’re so pretty. Is it good for you?”

“Yes. More, please.”

“You’re so perfect. Holy fuck”, he growls and throws your legs over his shoulders to hold your hips instead and pull you onto his cock each time he thrusts into you. You are tighter like this, jerking off his fat cock.

Your voice pitches and rises in volume. You were never fucked like this before. Your needs were never ever getting satisfied like this before. It is changing you and Jungkook makes it even better by taking your clit between his fingers to massage her. She is so swollen and big that he can jerk her off just a little, making you howl. Your hands drop from your thighs just so you can rip the sheets in your attempt to twist them.

You can’t take it. He makes you climax. It is so intense and fulfilling that your sensitive breasts leak again. You howl his name as it happens.

The scent of your sweet breasts and your pretty face sets off Jungkook.

“I have to. It happens”, he gets out and throws his head back. He moans loudly, falling victim to his orgasm. His toes curl for it, his tones stomach flinches.

And because you are currently in heat, existing for nothing but him, his seed sets you off again. It brings you back into this uncontrollable, intense state of bliss you experienced for the first time in the shed. It should be familiar to you by now, but it is not.

You cry and sob, knowing that you won’t be able to stop orgasming for as long as your body needs to.

Jungkook knots instantly, cursing so graphically that he is surprised himself.

“Baby, I can’t stop. I can’t, I’m sorry”, he chants panickedly, unable to stop his hips from rutting into you. It forces his knot to keep leaving you and then popping back inside. The stimulation is unlike anything he has ever felt before, making his toes cramp from curling them so harshly and his hips become even more violent.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it feels so good. Stop me, I can’t stop it”, he apologises because you cry so much. He wants to stop hurting you but he can’t. His hips rut against his will.

“Don’t stop please. It feels so good”, you release him of his guilt, clenching down on him as he drills his knot back into you.

“What? You’re in no pain?”

“No pain. Oh god Koo, I’m cumming again…Ah!” You have to wail, squirting around his thick knot as he buries it inside you over and over again.

“Ah! This is the best sex I ever had, oh god”, Jungkook moans, arching his back.

The knot fucking burns so deep in such a good way. You are so empty without him, the breach is so intense and once he is inside again everything is well. Your pussy sounds so wet, squelching around his knot sinfully. This is seriously the best sex he ever had.

“It’s so good, I’m so high”, he growls, following your orgasm with his own. It is so unbearable to keep moving but his hips have a mind of their own. They keep rutting and fucking even through Jungkook’s shakes. “I can’t stop this. Holy fuck, urggghh.“

If you knew that your little stunt in the shed would lead to having your guts knot fucked by none other than Jeon Jungkook, you would have agreed to this bond sooner. Yup, we have reached the point of total acceptance of your situation. Fuck that his father didn’t howl. Fuck that you only married Jungkook because you were forced to. Fuck that this wasn’t meant to happen. This right now is everything which counts. It is making this entire situation right. It was meant to happen.

“Jungkook, I can’t stop”, you sob, grabbing for him helplessly.

“I know. I can’t either”, he gets out, holding your hands and pinning them above your head. Like this he is lying himself down on you, folding your willing body in half and burying his knotted cock so deep inside you that you feel him against your cervix. In your state, lost in heat and his seed, it is the highest level of pleasure he can give you. And you thank him with loud cries and your claws digging into his hands against their will.

His own claws come out to play. He angles his hands so they wouldn’t hurt you. Like this, your hands are under his’, shaking and twitching as he brings you over one edge after the other.

“I can’t stop. Jungkook please help me”, you wail.

“You’re safe. I’m here. Baby, I’m here”, he soothes you and shakes as he manages to bury his knot in you again. You are getting tighter and tighter and his knot more and more sensitive. “Urgh, baby you’re making me- ah!”

He loses control, pumping your belly full of his hot cum. Now that he is pressed against your cervix, his seed pushes its way right past it, giving you the feeling of being alive you so dearly craved. Of course it sets you off again, of course you cry as if you never had an orgasm before and experience it for the first time. Of course it sets him off again. Of course all of this is happening. It was meant to happen. Of course it was.

And as you cry and sob in relief and bliss, Jungkook can barely stop his claws from hurting you. He grew in size and strength. Your small, fragile body is in danger of being crushed under him.

He does what he needs to do. Jungkook grips the headboard, growling like a rabid animal. You are so stretched out, so lose around his knot. And so wet. He can’t stop fucking you with his creamy knot. It feels so good to have you struggle for a second but then take him happily. It feels even better because you moan with such ecstasy each time he drills it back into you.

Jungkook growls and grips the headboard tighter. And tighter. And tighter with each heavy thrust. With each of your moans. Tighter and tighter until suddenly it cracks loudly, breaking into two right under his hand. The bed gives up, forcing you to sink a good ten centimetres.

“What?” You squeak out, looking around you disoriented.

“Doesn’t matter. Look at me”, he dismisses it, cradling your cheek tenderly. One might never know that seconds ago he broke the bed with the same hand. “Look at me, only look at me.”

You look at him and fall back into the pleasure, having to orgasm instantly at the sight of him.

You wail for him, watching with blurry eyes as he orgasms as well.

His seed hits you in the deepest parts of you. He fucked you so sensitive that you can feel his thick vein pump it out of him. His knot trembles as it happens, bringing you to your blissed limits.

“Again.”

“Me too. If you- I- me too.”

His hips freeze as he is deep inside you. Your walls tighten and force his knot to stay inside you. He can’t move. It is happening to you as his seed drugs you, his knot does the rest. You can’t stop climaxing. It is finally happening.

Jungkook whimpers helplessly, dropping your legs and collapsing into you. Your limbs close around him, his own do the same with you. He is on top of you, but gravity forces him to fall to his side and take you with him. You are stuck together, shaking and flinching as your bodies are trapped in the most addicting state of being. You orgasm which sets him off, which sets you off and so on. You should know the drill, but it doesn’t get easier to bear. You drool and sob and moan, holding each other so close that you almost melt together.

Jungkook cries out as an especially strong high hits him, writhing helplessly which ends in your position changed. He is on his back, you serve as his warmest blanket. He hugs you so strongly, knotted cock shaking inside your tight walls. You drool all over his strong chest, feeling far away because you are so close to his scent glands. He smells like sex and ecstasy but also like safety.

It feels more intense than last time. This kind of knotting orgasm isn’t just sexual, it is also emotional. You want to be close and you are and it is ecstasy. There is enlightenment that what is happening to you only happens because you are with your true mate and this enlightenment makes the orgasms only this much more intense.

The sun is starting to rise once you and he finally come down. You are fucked raw and sore by now, crying into the crook of his neck.

“Holy fuck baby, urgh. I can’t do it again. I’m cramping”, he says, “sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m sore. Kook please I’m scared.”

“Don’t be, I’m here. Baby, my love. I can’t believe we did that”, he instantly falls into a love drunk, sappy state. He hugs you so tightly, feeling up your knotted pussy gently to soothe her.

“I don’t wanna be on top, please”, you beg, shivering.

“You’re safe, princess. I’m here”, Jungkook says and changes positions for you. Somehow in a mixture of his strength and your refusal to give up his knot, you and he end up in flipped positions. He is still inside you, keeping you bred and warm. All while he gives you warmth through his body, adoring you right with kisses all over your face and neck.

“I’m so proud. I’m so fucking proud. Holy fuck, I feel high. You did do well. Oh my pretty princess. My baby love”, he whispers between his loving kisses, hands caressing your sweaty, sore skin gently.

This is instinct as much as it is his heart’s desire. He wants to soothe you, adore you, bring you down gently after lifting you so fucking high. He isn’t aware of how important this is to you. You feel so vulnerable and emotionally sensitive. It would be the same thing if someone decided to start open heart surgery on your aware self. This is how vulnerable you feel and it is Jungkook who makes it okay. It is Jungkook who calms you down and reminds you that you are allowed to be sensitive because he is there to protect you.

“I can’t comprehend this. I feel high. Wow baby, wow. How do you feel?” he babbles.

“Vulnerable.”

“Oh baby, I know. I’m here. Your Kook is here”, he assures you, nuzzling his nose against your scent spot. He hopes that if he nuzzles it long enough, he can spread some of his relaxing scent on you.

It works. Of course it does because your bodies need no instructions to communicate. It is natural and right and makes you and him feel fuzzy.

You sigh. Jungkook smells the relief against your neck. He kisses a path to your face. Your glassy eyes await him, eagerly building connection once they can.

“Thank you”, you whisper.

“No, I have to thank you. This was the best bonding night ever.”

“No, thank you”, you insist, spilling tears

Jungkook wipes them, knowing that you want to tell him something.

“For what, princess?”

“For, for making me feel like this. I, I was never in heat like this. I didn’t know that I could and it makes me feel really vulnerable. But you’re so gentle with me and it’s so nice.”

His eyes soften. He whispers your name adoringly and kisses your forehead.

“I feel the same. This was my first rut ever. I didn’t think that it would be so intense.”

“Kook, I’m scared. I don’t know what this means.”

“Don’t be scared, I’m here.” He kisses your nose, stubbing you with his own afterwards. “We can ask someone about it, but all I know for now is that I don’t wanna fucking stop having you close.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He kisses your lips, making your heart race and feel at home. He breaks the kiss gently, giving you the fondest and warmest smile ever.

“I’m so proud of you. You did so well, my princess baby.”

“Oh wow”, you get out, having to giggle.

Jungkook giggles with you, smiling as he steals a cheeky kiss. Afterwards he sits up. He is still connected with you by your middles, making you gasp and shiver.

“Sorry, I shifted. Are you okay?”

“Yes, oh god. What is happening to me? I feel so comfortable.”

Jungkook smiles, caressing your sides. He can’t stop looking at you. Your breasts are normal again, natural victims to gravity and so soft. They are still messy and wet from what happened before but nothing new leaves you. Your belly is bloated from his seed and covered in a layer of sweat. No wonder you sweat so much, you were burning up. Jungkook dances his palms over your bloated stomach, furrowing his brows in emotion.

“So alive”, he whispers.

“So alive”, you sigh, placing your hand over his’.

“___”, he says and meets yours eyes.

“Yes?”

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I didn’t get to say it as we were doing it because I was dumb in pleasure, but you are so beautiful.”

“You think so?”

“I do. I can’t believe that you’re real and, and that you allow me to see you naked. I just”, he exhales shakily. “I’m just so happy”, he chokes out, throwing his hand over his eyes to hide his tears.

“Kook, don’t cry”, you gasp and pull him down to you. He falls to his elbows, allowing you to hold his hands above your head.

He is pouting and sniffling. You give him a smile.

“Don’t cry.”

“They’re happy tears. We’re bonded, I’m so happy”, he says and smiles through his pretty tears.

Your smile grows, you squeeze his hands. He was right when he said that you and he will get to know each and that it will be nice. You can feel it. You are right for each other. You are so right.

You put your legs around him and push him deeper again.

“Oh”, he gasps, squeezing your hands, “wo-oah this felt really intense”, his voice quivers as he speaks.

“It does”, you agree, rolling your hips up.

Jungkook gasps, “what are you doing?”

“I want more of you.”

“Really? Baby, you’re sore. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please. Be gentle. Please make love to me, Kook baby.”

Jungkook spills tears, whimpering your name. This is everything he ever wanted. He pulls out of your sensitive warmth to thrust into you.

Crack!

You and he scream in shock as the bed finally gives up completely and comes crashing down onto the ground. Jungkook keeps you safe with his arms around you and your head cradled against his chest.

You and he share a moment of shocked and disoriented silence before you break it.

“Oh my god”, you let out, breaking into loud, honest cackles. Jungkook looks at you, having to break into laughter as well.

“Did we just get cock blocked by the bed?”

“I think so. It might be my fault. I kinda broke it when I fucked you with my knot. Sorry.”

“Oh god, Kook.”

You laugh oh so loudly, throwing your head back for it.

Jungkook has to almost squeak as he laughs with you, heart bursting in his chest.

“This is so funny. Oh my god.”

“Yeah, it’s hilarious”, he agrees and goes in for a surprise kiss.

Your laugh cuts off, a gasp replaces it. Your eyes fall closed and your hands bury themselves in his soft hair. This kiss is emotional and it is deep. It has meaning. It is happy and filled with love. Jungkook lets you experience it to its fullest, ending it with a stub of his nose and a smile.

“I promise to fix it. I’ll add steel in the frame.”

“So you think we’ll break it again otherwise?”

“Yeah.” He laughs breathily, nodding his head. “If this is how it feels to be with you during stimulation induced heat, imagine how it will be once it’s your natural heat.”

You gulp, gazing at him dreamily. The rising sun shines on his face, making his skin glow golden.

“Koo, I think you need to heat proof this entire room”, you whisper, making him chuckle and nod his head.

“I will. I’ll make it safe and cozy. Shit baby, I can’t stop saying it. You’re so beautiful. The sun is shining on you and you’re so beautiful.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, looking at him shyly

“You’re beautiful too”, you whisper, making him blush.

“Wow, thanks”, he mumbles, scrunching his nose. He does a little shift to be closer to you. The bed croaks and punishes him for it by making the headboard drop. He catches it before it can fall on top of you

“Piece of shit bed.”

“Oh god”, you laugh “I think we need to take care of this mess first and then continue.”

“Yeah shit, I think you’re right. The bed’s out to get us.”

You laugh and snicker, kicking your feet happily. He chuckles and shoves the headboard to the side.

“Come on, let’s take a shower”, he says and picks you up.

You nuzzle into him, feeling beyond safe.

“Do you have snacks too? I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

“Of course. You know what? First fact about me? I’m actually a really great cook.”

“You are?”

“Mhm, I’m also a total foodie. So if you wanna bribe me into snuggles, get me food and I’ll be the cuddliest boy ever.”

You snicker. It makes your heart flutter when he talks cute with you.

“Do you like food?” he asks.

“Yeah, I like food. It’s comfort.”

“Yeah, right. Do you like cooking together?”

“I never did it before.”

Jungkook holds you closer.

“Then I know what we’ll do. Shower and cook and I get to give you kisses. And later when you’re not sore anymore, I’ll make that gentle love to you. If you want me to.”

“Yeah, I want you to. This sounds so nice. Koo?”

“Yes, love?”

“It’s gonna be so easy for me to fall in love with you.”

“Wow, you. Urgh, you drive me crazy you”, he gets out through gritted teeth and presses you against the next best wall to attack your face and neck with tingling kisses.

You squeal his name, having to laugh in giddiness. It will not be the last time that you laugh because of him.

4K notes · View notes

asahicore · 9 months ago

Text

stupid in love - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. One night early on in your summer vacation, your best friend Sunghoon admits that his biggest anxiety about starting college is going there as a virgin - one thing leads to another, and you end up learning a few things from each other. The more time passes, the more obvious it becomes that your feelings for each other surpass friendship, but with the end of summer looming over your heads, it's hard to tell where these newfound emotions will lead you.

genre. best friends/childhood friends 2 lovers, summer au, lots of fluff and smut but also some angst to spice things up, when i say smut i mean LOTS of smut. like mostly smut lol (mutual first time, ice play, crazy stuff)

word count. 22.1k

a/n. bringing this one back from the pits of my google docs guys.. its been so long since i've posted anything and im not sure when the new hoon fic will be ready so i thought i'd repost an og asahicore fic!!! the title was originally 'hot like ice' but i changed it bc this is my blog and i do what i want <3 i'd also like to say that in terms of plot this is probably not something i would write nowadays, it's very smut-heavy and thats not what im about now idk i was crazy back then... but i rmb being happy w this fic and its reception when i first posted it so i'm happy to have it back on my blog and hope u guys will like it too <3 as always lmk what u think!!

It all started with a lollipop. Well, two, to be exact. One strawberry-flavored, one apple-flavored.

You stand in front of your friend, lollipops in hand. “Which one do you want, Hoon?”

“I don’t mind, just pick whichever one you like best,” he replies absent-mindedly, eyes on the TV as he tries to find a suitable movie for this late summer afternoon.

You plop down on the couch next to him and look at the two lollipops in your hands, unable to decide which flavor you like better. “I don’t know what I feel like right now,” you announce to an uninterested Sunghoon. “I’ll just try both.”

That seems to catch your best friend’s attention. He watches as you unwrap both candies, tasting each once, twice, then as you decide you want the apple-flavored lollipop and hand him the strawberry-flavored one. He doesn’t take his eyes off of your lips as you wrap them and swirl your tongue around the candy, letting its sweetness wash over your taste buds. You raise your eyebrows when you notice his staring and he blinks a couple times, trying to snap himself out of it. “Did you want the other one?” you ask, confused by his behavior.

“N-no, I like strawberry,” he stammers, turning his gaze back to the screen in front of you and settling for ‘When Harry Met Sally,’ a movie you’ve both seen a thousand times but never get bored of.

You’re used to Sunghoon getting lost in his thoughts, so you don’t question it much. You sit back on the couch, your knee touching his. You two are no strangers to a little skinship - after being friends for almost eight years, physical contact comes naturally. You have to admit that recently, it’s started to feel different; but the idea of your friendship changing tugs at your heartstrings so much that you ignore the prickles on your skin when he hugs you or the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you, dimples and sharp canines on display. You tell yourself it’s all stupid and that you can handle so much as your knees touching.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, can't. The lollipop in his mouth right now was in yours mere moments ago and you’d given it to him like sharing saliva was no big deal. He feels like a thirteen year-old for thinking like this, but this was pretty much an indirect kiss.

He stares at the TV screen, but all he can see are your perfect lips sucking that lollipop, and his mind is desperately not trying to go there, but he just cannot help himself. Blood rushes to his dick as he pictures your mouth around him, sucking him off with as much enthusiasm as you are the lollipop. Would you like his taste? Would you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, smiling even with his dick stuffed in your mouth?

His own thoughts catch him off guard, and before they can get any wilder, he runs off to the bathroom, knowing he’d never live it down if you caught a glimpse of his erection. Thankfully, you don’t, and you call after him, asking if he wants you to pause the movie, to which he shouts back a strangled ‘no.’

He comes back ten minutes later, face flushed and breath heavy. “Goddamn, Hoon, I know we’re best friends, but if you’re going to dump a massive load, I wished you did it in your own bathroom and not mine,” you tease him, laughing as his face gets even redder and he opens his mouth to protest.

“I was just on my phone!” he replies, mildly offended.

“Whatever,” you say, still laughing, and turn your attention back to the movie.

Well. Sunghoon would rather have you think he just took a huge shit than have you know he came to the idea of you sucking him off and swallowing every last drop of his cum.

A few days later, you and Sunghoon are lying on his bed, the both of you on your backs, talking about this and that as you often do. It’s almost 3 a.m., and it feels almost rebellious, being up this late after months of waking up at 6, but your high school graduation was a week ago and you feel like you can do anything. The dim fairy lights you forced him to put up and the bright moon outside are the only sources of light in the room, and when you turn to look at him, you can just make out the outline of his face, the curve of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw. You've looked at him a thousand times before, so your memory makes up for what the light takes away from your eyes. You shift to lying on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can take a better look at your friend. Something about the moonlight makes him look ethereal, and his beauty makes your heart skip a beat, but you’d never admit that to him. Out of habit, you reach out to touch his moles, gently placing your middle finger on his nose and your pointer finger on his cheek. Sunghoon closes his eyes at your touch, used to the warm feeling that settles in his stomach whenever you do that.

“Y/N?” he calls out, just as you pull your fingers away from his moles.

“Yeah?”

He opens his eyes again, meeting yours. “Is there anything you’re scared of for next year? You know, heading off to college and all that?” You shift again and lie on your back, the sides of your two bodies touching. You stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking about his question, and Sunghoon patiently waits for your answer.

“I’m scared about not making friends. I’m not the least outgoing person ever, but it’s so intimidating, not knowing anyone. And it’ll be weird not having you around. Shut up,” you warn before he can make an egotistical remark, so he just chuckles. “I’m also worried about the amount of work I’ll have. I’ve heard so many times that it’s a huge step-up from high school, the workload and the type of work and all that. What if I don’t even like the degree that I chose? I know I can change it, but it still stresses me out. Turning 18 doesn’t feel like a huge deal, but going to college does. It’s when all the responsibility hits. My mom told me to make my own doctor’s appointment the other day, and I almost cried when I had to call them. I’m not gonna have anyone to do my groceries for me. I’m scared I might get an awful roommate. I hate the idea of communal showers. I don’t even know what I want to do after college, and I know I have four years to make up my mind, but I’m scared those four years are gonna flash by and I’ll be indebted and unemployed by the end of it.” You pause to take a breath, and you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes on the sides of your face, but he doesn’t say anything. “Also, I heard that you put on a lot of weight during your freshman year.”

You turn to look at him to find him smiling at you. “Wow. That’s a lot.”

The two of you giggle, eyes not leaving the other’s. After a moment, you turn your gaze back to the ceiling and sigh. “Yeah, I know. But I’m more excited than I am scared. What about you?”

Sunghoon follows your gaze and looks up above him. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and when he finally speaks up, he says it so quietly, you almost don’t hear it. “I’m scared of going to college a virgin.”

You try to stay serious for a few seconds, but you can’t keep your laughter in and snort loudly at your friend’s words, laughing so hard your stomach starts to hurt.

“Don’t make fun of me!” he whines, hands coming up to cover his face.

It takes you a while to calm down; not only was Sunghoon’s statement ridiculous, it was so unexpected that you couldn’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you apologize, catching your breath. “I just can’t believe that that’s what you’re scared of, of all things.”

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable concern,” he defends himself.

“Nobody’s gonna care if you’re a virgin, Hoon,” you try to reason with him, but if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn.

“I’m gonna care! What if I like a girl but I can’t bring myself to make a move on her ‘cause I have no experience?”

“But Hoon, chances are she doesn’t have a lot more experience than you do! She’ll be the same age we are, dummy. We’re not sixteen year-olds jumping into a world of twenty year-olds. Sure, some people have their first time in high school, but a lot do it at university. You’ll be fine,” you reassure. His furrowed eyebrows and pout tell you he’s not fully convinced, though.

“Oh, c’mon! If you really want to lose your virginity before leaving, we can get you laid during the summer. I’m sure we can find a girl nice enough,” you tease, jokingly patting his bicep, trying not to make a note of how firm the skin feels under your hand.

Sunghoon sighs, and you can tell he’s actually taking this seriously. “I’m not that desperate that I’d have sex with the first girl that agrees, you know. I’d still rather do it with someone…” He glances at you for just a second. “Someone I trust.”

You feel your face heat up at the possible meaning behind his words, so you look away, not wanting him to see the effect they had on you. He changes his position on the bed, and now it’s his turn to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at you.

“What about you, Y/N? Don’t you think it’d be good to get a bit of experience before going off to college? It’ll be one less thing to stress about,” he says, a small smirk playing on his lips, and his shy demeanor from moments prior is completely gone. Out of fear that his ego would get even bigger, you'd never tell him, but you love it when he gets like that - when he thinks he’s the shit and teases you mercilessly. You know he does it lightheartedly, and it never fails to bring a smile to your face.

Except right now it does. You’re not smiling, far from it; you’re looking up at your best friend, mouth slightly agape and wide eyes searching for a sign that he may be just joking. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and your reaction is to scoff at him.

“Do I need to remind you that you’re the reason I have no experience to begin with, Park Sunghoon?” you ask, sitting up on the bed to peer down at him. He shifts again and lays on his back, his hands coming up behind his head as he beams at you.

“Am I really?”

You wish you could slap that shit-eating grin off of his face. This is not the first time you're having this conversation. “Yes, Hoon. Every time a guy was even remotely interested in me, you chased them away. I’m still not over you telling Kang Taehyun I have smelly feet! I had a huge crush on that guy!”

Sunghoon loudly laughs at the memory, and you curse yourself for cracking a smile when you see his face scrunched in laughter. “That was in Year 5, Y/N! It’s been years!”

You grab a pillow and throw it at his head, unable to not laugh along with him. “What about Bang Yedam, then? That was only last year, and you totally ruined my chances with him!”

“Listen, if you having a creepy doll collection is enough to make him not ask you out, then he must not have liked you that much.”

“But I don’t have a creepy doll collection! That’s the whole point!” you say, on the brink of desperation. You sigh at your friend who’s still catching his breath from laughing so much. “You’re just lucky they didn’t repeat your bullshit to anyone. I would’ve had such a weird reputation otherwise.”

“Of course they didn’t. I told them I’d kill them if they did,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if that was a normal and appropriate thing to do.

“Couldn’t you have threatened them that way so they wouldn’t ask me out instead of lying to them about me?”

Sunghoon stares at you for a few seconds, eyes seemingly empty of thought. “Huh. Yeah, I guess I could’ve done that.”

“Ugh,” you groan, and plop down on the bed next to him. Neither of you says anything for some time, until you break the silence again. “You know you even stole my first kiss, Hoon,” you speak softly.

“I know,” he says, voice just as quiet as yours. “You never shut up about it.”

“Why would I? I was about to kiss Lee Heeseung, of all people, the boy everybody, including me, had a crush on, but no, someone had to get between us and kiss me in his stead,” you grumble, giving your friend a harsh side-eye.

Sunghoon sighs and shakes his head as if you’re being irrational. “I don’t get why you’re so hung-up on that. Why would you want your first kiss to be because of a middle-school party dare rather than have it with your best friend, whom you know and trust?”

“It was Lee Heeseung, for God’s sake!”

“And I’m Park Sunghoon!”

Still both laying on your backs, you turn your heads to look at each other. There’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before that you can’t quite put your finger on. The person in front of you is one you’ve known for years now and yet the look in his eyes is of such unfamiliar intensity that it makes your stomach flip. You inhale sharply when his eyes drift down to your lips, and you can’t help but mirror his actions. The atmosphere has flipped like a light switch; it was playful just mere seconds ago, the sound of your usual banter filling up the room. All of a sudden, there’s something heavy dancing in the air around you, and it makes your heart skip a bit faster and your breath a bit shallower.

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you say his name.

“Yeah?” His eyes snap back up to yours, but you're still stuck on his lips. Have they always looked so kissable?

“Why did you do that? Why did you push those boys away from me?” you ask, even though you’ve asked this question a thousand times before. You want to hear his answer again.

“I’ve already told you. You deserved better than them.” Whenever you ask him about it, Sunghoon always stops here, and you never push. But there are unspoken words left hanging that you’re dying to hear.

“Who, then? Who’d be better than them?”

He's quiet for a second. “It’s a secret,” he whispers finally, a small smirk teasing his lips, and you roll your eyes at him. But then your eyes meet again and your breath hitches. You shift to your side so you can face him more fully, and he mirrors your actions.

It’s his turn to say your name. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you kissed anyone since?” he asks, coming off shyer than he’d intended to.

You giggle and smack his shoulder lightly. “Why do you wanna know?”

He snickers too and, to your surprise, stops your fist from hitting him a second time, enveloping his larger hand around yours and laying it between the two of you on the bed. “Cause I should know that sorta thing. Also, if you did kiss someone since then, and I didn’t know about it, I'd be upset.”

“Why would you be mad?” you say, still giggling, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat quickens when he threads your fingers with his.

“Because you wouldn’t have told me!”

“Well…”

“No way, Y/N,” he practically shouts, already feeling betrayed, his free hand coming up to grip his heart in fake shock.

“Let me at least finish first,” you protest. He obliges, although he doesn't look very happy about it. “You know that summer 2 years ago I went away to camp?”

“Yeah, worst summer ever.”

“Well, I did sort of… get with someone, that summer,” you say, avoiding Sunghoon’s wide eyes as he gasps loudly.

“What? Who with? How come you didn't tell me?” he exclaims, letting go of your hand. He sits up on the bed and crosses his arms over his chest like an annoyed child.

“Because of this exactly.”

“What’s this?”

“Your reaction right now!” you say, sitting up as well, both of your knees grazing his. The simple touch sends a shiver down your spine that you can only hope he takes no notice of.

“Wouldn’t you be a bit upset if I told you I ‘got with’,” he air-quotes, “a random girl two years ago?”

“No? Especially not if it was two years ago?”

You both look just as confused as the other, obviously not on the same wavelength. He furrows his eyebrows and glares at you. “Well, I am.”

You throw your head back in laughter and place your hands on his knees, but when you come forward again, you overestimate the distance between the both of you and find yourself mere inches from his face. The laughter immediately dies in your throat, and you feel it go dry when your stunned reaction elicits a smirk from him. You don’t know how long you stare into his eyes, all you know is you snap out of it when his gaze drifts down to your lips once more. You’re closer now than you were before, and having him so close makes your mind spin with all the possible outcomes of such proximity. You lean back on the bed, pulling away your hands from his knees to hold yourself up on them.

“There’s no reason to,” you say, hoping that breaking the silence will dissipate some of the tension in the air. You keep going back and forth between familiar and dangerous and you don’t know how long you’ll be able to handle that atmosphere. “It’s not like anything grand happened. We made out a bit and held hands. We never spoke after that summer, otherwise you’d have known about it.”

Sunghoon lets out a low hum. His eyes are still trained on yours, and you wished he’d look away because you can’t seem to do it yourself. He still doesn’t say anything, so you speak up again. “You say that like you’ve never had girlfriends, by the way. Surely you’ve done more than just kissing.” Silence again, and you can’t decipher the look he’s giving you. “So, I don’t know what you’re so scared about, because it’s not like you have zero experience. I’m sure the girls at uni will love you, Hoon.”

He sighs and finally tears his eyes away from yours, and you’re not sure if you’re seeing things because of how dark and late it is or if there’s an actual blush creeping on his cheeks. “Sure, I’ve had a couple girlfriends, but you know they’ve never lasted long,” he says, looking down at his lap. “We made out… I guess I-” he gives you a quick glance, “I’ve touched their boobs and they’ve touched my… you know…”

You can’t help but giggle at how shy your friend is suddenly being. “Can’t even say the word ‘penis’, Hoon?,” you tease, and his eyes snap back up at yours.

“Of course I can. Penis! There.” You look at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunghoon hushing you so you don’t wake up his parents, but his hushes are louder than your laugh. After a couple minutes, you calm down and wipe your tears away, grateful for the break in the tension between you and Sunghoon.

“Anyway, yeah, I guess I don’t have that much experience. Which is why I brought it up in the first place.” And just as quickly as it’d left, the tension is back again.

You look around the room because the weight of Sunghoon’s gaze on your face is unbearable. You release a shaky breath when you feel his gentle hand on your knee, and your eyes drift to it, but you can’t get yourself to look him straight in the eyes.

“Don’t you think it’d be good to get experience before leaving for college, Y/N?” he asks, and you can tell he’s trying to sound confident, but his voice comes out breathier and shakier than he must intend it to.

“I don’t know… I don’t think it’s necessary,” you say, eyes still trained on his hand resting on your knee. He squeezes it a bit, making you finally look up at him. Is it just you, or did the room get hotter all of a sudden?

“Not everything you do has to be out of necessity, you know.”

The both of you stare at each other for a few moments. This shift in your relationship was bound to happen; you’d been feeling it more and more recently. You didn’t use to think twice about Sunghoon taking your hand in his, nor did you feel those stupid butterflies eating away at your stomach every time his gaze lingered for a second too long. You’d tried to reason with yourself that it was just teenage hormones doing their stupid job, and that you were doomed to feel some kind of attraction for your extremely handsome best friend at some point in your life, but that if you ignored it hard and long enough it would go away.

Well, now that Sunghoon’s lips are barely inches away from yours and your skin is on fire under his hand, it definitely isn’t going away.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Sunghoon asks, eyes fluttering down to your lips. You think he’s looked at your lips more than the rest of your face in the past hour.

“I’d slap you,” you lie, gaze mirroring his.

“Would you really?” he says, and your hesitation makes him smirk slightly.

“No,” you breathe out, and it’s the answer he’s been waiting for, the answer he needs to finally press his soft lips against yours.

You don’t even have the time to savor the moment, though, because the warmth of his lips is gone as quickly as it came. He pulls back, a surprised look in his eyes, as if he can’t believe what he just did. The tension above you breaks and rains down on you like small pieces of confetti that settle comfortably on your head and shoulders. There’s a knot in your stomach but instead of twisting your insides in nervousness, it feels warm and makes you giddy for what’s to come next. Sunghoon’s surprised expression transforms into a grin at the sound of your laughter, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you.

You scooch closer to him, and his other hand comes to rest on your second knee. You can tell he’s not going to do much more, so you lean in bit by bit, and peck him softly on the lips. You both giggle again and you blame the fact that you want to feel his lips on yours again on the late hour of the night. You peck his lips once, twice more, giggling inbetween, but when you peck them a third time, he doesn’t let you pull away and keeps his lips on yours. The sudden added strength takes you aback, but it doesn’t take you long to yield to his touch and kiss him back.

Sunghoon moves his lips slowly against yours and it’s surprisingly easy to fall into his rhythm. You don’t have the most experience with kissing, but something about doing it with your best friend reassures you and your whole body relaxes as you focus on the feeling of his lips moving in cadence with yours. The knot in your stomach stays there and tightens when his hands ride up your thighs and settle on your hips, holding you snugly there. You’re only wearing shorts and his palms against your bare skin make you release a shaky breath in Sunghoon’s mouth. You pull back for a bit, surprised at your own reaction, but nothing has prepared you for the way your best friend looks at you.

His pupils are dilated, dark; his glossed-over eyes bore right into yours. Your breath was already shallow from the kiss, but it’s his gaze that renders you completely breathless. Sunghoon tightens his grip on your hips and leans in for more, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him, making his eyes snap back into focus.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what took over me. Are you okay?” he asks, as short of breath as you are, but worry laced in his voice.

“No- Yes- I mean, yes, I’m fine, everything’s fine, I just-” you shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m just…”

“Tell me. You can tell me,” he says, rubbing gentle circles into your hips with his thumb, and the unfamiliar yet intimate gesture makes it even harder to concentrate.

“We- we’re best friends, right?” you ask, voice trembling, You ask, even though you know the answer, just because you’re afraid the line the two of you have just crossed is already miles behind you, and you won’t be able to retrace your steps.

“Yeah, of course we are,” Sunghoon reassures, head tilting to the side in confusion.

“And best friends… Do they… Well, it’s normal for best friends to kiss, right?” you say, trying to calm the overpowering urge to kiss him again.

Sunghoon chuckles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know about that, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you breathe.

Sunghoon quickly catches on to your hesitation. “But who cares about what best friends usually do and don’t do?” he says, holding your face between his hands to make you look up at him. “I liked kissing you, just now. I really, really liked it,” he admits, red dusting his cheeks. “Did you?”

You nod, too shy to put just how much you enjoyed kissing Sunghoon into words. “Do you want to do it again?” he asks and chuckles when you nod again, eyes already on his lips. This time, you don’t stop him when he leans in and let him press his lips to yours again. His words have reassured you and you sigh into his mouth, making him smile into the kiss.

His hands ride up a bit and settle on your waist, bringing you a bit closer to him, and you circle your arms around his neck. The shyness of the first kiss is completely gone, and you’re both gaining more and more confidence, letting everything go and focusing solely on where your bodies meet. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you push your body onto his, a sudden need to feel him against you, to feel his strong arms encaging you.

You pull away at the same time to catch your breaths, smiling at each other when you see how lustful the other’s expression is. Sunghoon’s eyes have glossed over once more, and you’re sure yours have too. “C’mere,” he whispers, beckoning you to him. You climb onto his lap, one knee on each side of his hips. “Is this okay?” he asks, but you don’t answer, you just lean in and kiss him again, holding his face in your hand as his hands roam your back over the thin fabric of your t-shirt. Your kisses are curious, the both of you trying to figure out what feels best as you tilt your heads from one side to the other and let your inquisitive hands travel each other’s bodies. Yours find purchase in his hair, and you revel in the sighs that escape his lips whenever you pull and tug at the strands.

As the kiss gets hungrier and needier, his hands fall down to your lower back, and then to your ass. He just cups it for a while, but after a few moments, grabs it harder and brings you close to him, making your core rub against the hardness that had been building in his sweatpants for a while now. The friction is unexpected and you can’t help the loud moan leaving your lips at the feeling. It’s a feeling you know from your own hand in the privacy of your dark room, but Sunghoon making you feel that way is so foreign that it snaps you out of the daze you’re in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Sunghoon scrambles for words, but you’re already pulling away, and he doesn’t know what to do to keep you close.

You sit back on the bed, holding your knees close to your chest. You look at your best friend in front of you who’s looking at you with a worried expression. Something in you craves to reach a hand out to him, to feel his cheeks and jawline under your palms again, to find out if he’d shiver at your touch and if goosebumps would form on his skin. He’s been your best friend for eight years, and you’ve always thought you knew everything about him, the same way he’s supposed to know everything about you. But you realize in this moment that there are things you don’t yet know, melodies to be discovered, treasures to be unearthed. Your fingertips are burning to find them all.

The sound of your name resonates inside your mind and it takes you everything not to fall back on him again. You furrow your eyebrows, confused by all those things you’re feeling. What was it that just took over you, that lit your insides up so?

You straighten your back suddenly and take in your surroundings. Sunghoon’s room is still the same old room you’ve always known, the same blue walls, the same posters he only ever changes when he finds a new interest and lets go of an old one. The same pictures from when you were 10, 12, 15, recent ones now that you’re 18; the same figure skating trophies and medals on his shelves. You turn to look at your best friend. The same soft, round cheeks contrasted by a sharp jaw; the same almond eyes, round with worry at your sudden movement away from him; the same two moles you’ve always found so comforting, for some reason. You almost reach out to touch them, to give you some sense of balance, to reassure you that things aren’t changing as much as it feels like they are. But you’re scared electricity might fry your fingers if you touch him right now. You’re scared you won’t be able to take your fingers off of him, no matter how much it stings. His face is the same as always before, but there’s something else to it, something you could probably figure out if you spent more than three seconds thinking about it, but you’re not sure you want to figure it out.

“Is everything okay? Did- Did I do something wrong?” he asks, voice laced with concern.

Before he can put a reassuring hand on your knee, you get off of the bed, and hurriedly say, “No. I just- I think I should go home.” You look everywhere but at him.

He sits up at your words, concern turned into confusion. “It’s 3 a.m., Y/N, why do you want to go home all of a sudden? You’ve stayed over plenty of times before.”

“I know, I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with an excuse. “I’ve got cramps. I think my period’s coming,” you lie. It’s better than whatever truth is threatening to bubble up.

“Oh. Right.” He scooches a bit, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Is there anything- like- can I do anything?” He sighs, steadies himself. “You don’t have to go, is what I’m trying to say.”

A few months ago, when you had finally wrapped your head around the fact that your best friend was an attractive man and that he made you feel things friends weren’t supposed to make you feel, you’d told yourself it was all just a phase that would pass soon. But feelings this strong surely cannot go away that easily.

You take a deep breath in and tear your eyes away from him. “I think I should go home,” you repeat. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hoon.”

You turn around and start walking away, but Sunghoon is quick on his feet and stops you from going out the door. “Do you actually have cramps? Or are you just scared that our friendship might change?” He sounds out of breath, like asking this question is taking him all of his energy.

You avert his gaze and try to push past him, but he’s much stronger than you. Puberty sure played its trick on him. You sigh and look down at your feet. “I’m tired, Hoon, let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

But if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn. “I don’t wanna talk about it tomorrow. I wanna talk about it now. Did it feel nice?” he asks, and his resolute tone of voice makes you look up at him.

“I- I mean-”

“Y/N,” he starts, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in a bit, his familiar scent filling your nostrils. You have to close your eyes. “Answer me. Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer without thinking.

“Is that why you’re scared?”

“Yes.” Your eyes flutter open when you feel his fingers graze your cheek. He leans in again and traps your kiss in a much softer and intimate kiss that makes your head spin and your thoughts cloud. Before you can get carried away, you pull away again, and ignore how beautiful he looks when his eyes stay closed for a couple of seconds longer. He only opens them once you tell him once again you should go home, that you need some time to think.

“Let me at least walk you there. It’s dark,” he pleads, his grip on your waist still tight.

“Hoon, I live right next door, I’ll be fine.” You let him kiss you once more and he makes you promise to call or text him tomorrow.

When you leave, Sunghoon plops back down on his bed, arm resting on his forehead as he plays back the events of the night. Had he done something wrong? Something that made you want to get as far away from him as quickly as possible? He’d tried to be gentle and to make sure you were okay with everything, but he couldn’t help but get carried away when he heard those sweet sighs of yours. He thought he was going to combust when he heard you moan, and he wanted to hear it over and over again, but you’d jumped from him like he’d told you he had killed someone.

He hopes you were telling the truth when you said you were just scared about your friendship changing. He hadn’t wanted to push and get you to stay; he knew it was weird, seeing each other in a different light all at once. He wasn’t completely oblivious; he’d felt that same shift in your relationship those past few months, just like you had, although you’d never spoken about it to each other. He knew he could never go back to seeing you as just a friend when he’d jerked off one day and you were all he could think of. He kept imagining the sounds you’d make and the way your hands would feel on him, and he’d gotten so close to getting that today, but he must’ve fucked something up and now his chances were ruined. He curses himself for letting you slip through his fingers just when he thought he finally had you.

You don’t get a wink of sleep that night. Your mind is reeling with everything that happened in Sunghoon’s room. Your fingers unconsciously keep coming up to touch your lips and feel the ghost of his touch there. Your skin turns hot at the simple thought of how perfect his lips had felt against yours, and you toss and turn in your bed as you consider what might’ve been, had you stayed with Sunghoon.

But it’s all happening too quickly, and even though you’ve been curious in more ways than one about your best friend for the past few months, you hadn’t expected to kiss him and to enjoy it so much on a random summer night. Your thoughts only seem to calm down and your eyes finally close just as the sun starts to rise.

The next day, Sunghoon wakes up in the early hours of the afternoon and checks his phone right away. A couple of notifications, but nothing from you. A text from Jake in their group chat with Jay asking to hang out at Sunghoon’s pool, to which he replies that they can come whenever. He taps a quick one out in the shower, memories of your scent and your lips on his getting him to finish quicker than he’d like to admit. He’s in the middle of a late breakfast when Jake and Jay spawn at his door, swimming trunks already on. Still nothing from you.

It doesn’t take Jay and Jake long to figure out that something is up with their best friend. It’s not like he does much usually, but today especially, he makes no effort to entertain them. He laughs at their jokes, but it feels like he laughs because he hears other people laughing rather than because he genuinely finds them funny. He barely even reacts when the inflatable pool ball hits him right in the face.

His friends don’t say anything until they’re all seated at a table by the pool, sipping on some ice-cold Coke. The air is still warm but the sun is low in the sky, hidden behind the house. Sunghoon is still lost in his thoughts, unblinking eyes fixed on a random point in the distance. Jay and Jake exchange a look before the former breaks the silence.

“Is everything alright, Hoon? You look out of it today.”

Jay’s voice brings him back to the here and now, and his eyes jump back and forth between his two friends who are looking at him expectantly. “Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he says, leaving some of the truth out, but his friends know him better than he gives them credit for.

“Are you sure? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling us. You usually act like a little bitch when you’re tired, you don’t get all…,” Jake shakes his hand in front of his face, “distant like that.”

Sunghoon bites his lip, debating whether he should tell his friends about you or not. No matter how stupid they may be, they also know both of you quite well, so they might prove not completely useless, he thinks.

“Y/N and I kissed last night.”

It’s almost comical, how Jay and Jake bring their head forward in astonishment, how wide their mouth gets, how their eyes look like they might pop out of their sockets, and how they say “You what?!” at the same time. On a normal day, Sunghoon would've laughed.

“We kissed,” Sunghoon repeats, eyes drifting down to the ground in front of him as he rubs his neck in embarrassment.

“Fucking finally!” Jay exclaims.

“Told you it was gonna happen. No way you two were going to stay just besties forever,” Jake teases, punching Sunghoon in the arm. “How was it?”

Sunghoon sighs and leans back in his chair, letting his head hang back. “Really fucking amazing,” he chuckles. His friends holler for him, snickering like 12-year old boys who just saw a hot girl walk past.

“God, I saw this coming from miles away. I don’t know why you kept on insisting nothing was gonna happen between you two,” Jake says, beaming.

“I really didn’t think anything would… I just… Started seeing her differently recently, I guess.” Sunghoon shrugs, sheepishly smiling to himself.

“So, what happened? Did you guys just kiss or…?” Jay asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Jake giggles at the insinuation of sex but has a curious glint in his eyes when he waits for Sunghoon’s answer.

“Yeah, um, we just kissed cause she- she sort of ran away?” Sunghoon admits, wincing at the recollection.

“You what?!” Chaeyong’s voice rings out in the food court of the mall where you’re currently sitting, halfway through your strawberry milkshake.

“Keep it down, would you?!” you scold her, smiling apologetically to the people staring at you and your friend.

“If it was so good, why the hell did you run away, Y/N?”

“I just- I don’t know… Freaked out, I guess…” you mumble, cowering under the harsh look she gives you.

“Well, have you talked since?” You don’t reply, just guiltily avoid her gaze. “Y/N!”

“I know, I know! I just… don’t know what to do. ‘Hey, nice making out with you last night, bit weird since we’ve been best friends since we were 11, but that’s fine, right?’ Ugh! That’s so stupid,” you complain, flopping back in your chair.

“That’s exactly what you should say. Going MIA on him will just make things weirder. Plus you’ve never gone more than 24 hours without speaking so one of you will eventually cave in. It should be you,” she says, looking at you with a raised eyebrow as she takes a sip from her milkshake.

You scoff when she gives you a ‘you know I’m right’ look. “I’ll think about it on the way home and text him. There.”

And you do think about it on the way home; but you don’t get the opportunity to send the text, because as soon as you get off the bus at the stop right across from your house, you see Sunghoon sitting on the bench of your porch, looking around nervously and rubbing his hands on his denim shorts. You chuckle to yourself; who knew he got so distressed from not speaking to you for a day?

He stands up when he sees you approaching and raises his hand in a quick wave. “Hi, Hoon,” you greet, and you can feel his whole body relax when you hug him. So, you don’t hate him, he thinks. You sit down on the bench together. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I didn’t know what to say after… last night,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit facing him.

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckles, smiling shyly at you. “I was scared you’d never want to see me again.”

You look at him with wide eyes, mildly offended, and punch his arm. “How could you think that?!”

“Well, you did sort of run away from me last night,” he says, lightly punching your arm in return.

You tut in defeat. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. I’m just glad you didn’t walk past me straight into your house just now.”

You chuckle and rest your head on top of your knees. “That would’ve been a bit much, even for me.”

Sunghoon lets out a puff of air through his nose in response, and then the two of you sit in silence. You’re contemplating what to do next when your friend pulls you from your thoughts. “Should we, um…” He shuts his eyes tightly in reflection for a second before opening them again and looking straight at you. “Should we just pretend like last night didn’t happen? Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

His words take you aback and your eyes widen a bit; you hadn’t even thought pretending nothing happened last night was an option, because you didn’t think you’d ever be able to actually get it out of your head. Even now, if you stare at Sunghoon for too long, your gaze will naturally drift downwards or you’ll get a flashback of his large hands around your waist. But apparently, if he can offer to pretend like the previous night wasn’t a thing, then it must not have been such a huge deal to him. You quickly try to hide your disappointment and nod at your friend. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

Silence makes its way between you two again. It makes the late afternoon breeze a bit chillier and the physical distance between you and Sunghoon feel much bigger than it actually is. Wanting it to go away quickly, you ask, “Do you wanna watch a movie, then?”

Sunghoon’s never looked so relieved about watching a movie, and he immediately accepts your offer. You get some popcorn ready while he searches for a movie to watch. He clicks on a horror movie that looks like it’s got a cliché storyline and awful acting, but you’re happy for any sort of distraction when Sunghoon is sitting so close to you.

You and Sunghoon always sit close-by when you watch something together, knees and shoulders brushing against each other. Tonight isn’t any different, except that your skin burns everywhere it touches his. You can smell the faint scent of chlorine in his hair, and it’s so intoxicating you want to bury your face there and breathe it in.

You’re thirty minutes into the movie and still nothing’s happened when Sunghoon puts his arm around you, letting his hand hang over your shoulder. The sudden warm contact makes you take a sharp intake of breath as memories of the previous night come flooding once again. You don’t know what you were expecting, but Sunghoon simply rests his hand there and doesn’t do anything more for another thirty minutes, except for squeezing your shoulder when there’s a small jumpscare, making you chuckle at him. This isn’t much more than what you’re used to with him, but knowing your friend, he must be thinking the ball is in your court. So you scooch a bit closer into his side and rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his skin even stronger now that your nose is so close to his neck. You feel his chest raise and relax as he sighs deeply and tightens his hold around your shoulders. His small reactions to you spur you on and you decide to wrap an arm around his waist and you feel him flinch oh-so-slightly at your touch in such a sensitive spot. He starts to rub circles into your shoulder and rests his head on top of yours, and your whole body relaxes into his. This is so much more than what you’re used to with him; and yet, you so readily melt under his touch.

You can barely focus on the movie because of how close Sunghoon is. When a particularly scary ghost jumps on the screen, you flinch and hide your face in his neck, and he giggles at your reaction, hand coming up to stroke your hair comfortingly. It only takes you a few seconds to realize what position you’re in, and you release a shaky breath as you slowly lift your head towards Sunghoon, only to find him already looking at you, seemingly having had that same realization. When his eyes drift down to your lips, you know you’re done for.

You call out his name, and he’s already answered ‘Yes?’ before you’ve had time to finish uttering the second syllable. “I don’t think I want to pretend last night never happened,” you admit, holding his waist a bit tighter.

“Good. Me neither,” he breathes out before leaning down and trapping your lips in his, the kiss releasing all your pent-up frustration of the day. The world seems to melt away with his lips on yours, the movie already long forgotten. Sunghoon pulls you into his lap and you slide your palms up from his waist, against his chest and to his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing your body closer to his. His hands are sitting on your hips, fingers lightly pressing into them and your lower back. Now that you both seem to know what you want, it’s so easy, just falling into this kiss.

His tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip and you gladly open your mouth for him, letting his tongue explore it. You haven’t kissed someone like this in ages, maybe ever, but Sunghoon takes the lead and effortlessly gets you to follow his rhythm. When a flick of his tongue against yours feels particularly nice, you arch your back and press your chest into his, making him smirk into the kiss. This time, when he brings your hips down onto his, letting you feel his erection against your clothed core, the feeling doesn’t make you want to run away; instead, you want to feel it again and again.

You fall into a nice pace of rubbing yourself against him, eliciting hushed moans and loud breaths from the both of you. You can’t concentrate on kissing him and grinding down on him at the same time, so you drop your head down to bury your face in his neck, leaving a few pecks there but mostly moaning against his skin, enjoying how your hot breaths make him shiver.

You can’t keep a whine from escaping your lips when he bucks his hip into yours and his tip brushes directly against your covered clit, instantly bringing a hand up to your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes. “I know we gotta keep quiet ‘cause of your parents but the sounds you’re making are so fucking pretty. I wanna hear them over and over again.” His words make you whimper against his neck and you feel your slick starting to pool in your panties.

“H-hoon. This feels so good,” you moan, breathing warmly against the shell of his ear.

“I know, right? Feels so good,” he chuckles, hands grabbing at your ass to bring you harder down onto him. His actions are about to elicit another moan from you when, all of a sudden, a loud jumpscare in the movie makes you jump away from the boy underneath you and yelp in fear, which in turn makes him scream in surprise. You look at each other, panting and eyes open wide, hands clutching at your hearts, until you burst into laughter. The fun moment is short-lived, however, as your mom rushes down the stairs not ten seconds later, frantically asking if everything is alright.

You sit up straight at the sight of your mother and clear your throat. You’re thankful for the dark of the room which hides your and Sunghoon’s swollen lips and flushed faces from her view. “Sorry, mom, we were just watching a scary movie. We’re fine.” She sleepily nods and walks back up the stairs, and when she’s back in her room, Sunghoon and you exchange a look and erupt into another fit of smaller, quieter giggles.

That night, after Sunghoon’s gone home, the both of you get yourselves off in your own beds, the strong memory of each other’s lips and hands bringing you both to your releases. Without even realizing it, you moan out Sunghoon’s name as your orgasm hits. The window from your room doesn’t face his; but still, your heart is beating so loudly that you’re afraid the sound might carry from your open window to his. You get up and close it.

Now that you and Sunghoon both know you want to kiss each other, you do it everywhere: in his pool, his back pressed against the wall; on the sunchairs when you were supposed to be drying off; on your beds in the middle of the night, none of your parents or siblings suspicious of anything; in front of your house, because even though he was supposed to just walk you home, he couldn’t keep himself from tasting you one last time; in the backseat of his car after an evening with your friends and he drove you two home.

You spend a good two weeks of just kissing before your body starts to crave something more. At some point, Sunghoon’s hands resting nicely on your waist or sometimes, if he’s feeling bold, grabbing at your ass, start to not be enough anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with just kisses and sweet touches when one day, his hands slowly but surely slid up your naked belly before grabbing onto your bikini-clad breast, lighting your whole body up on fire. He’d slipped his hand underneath your swimming top and rolled your nipple between two fingers and you had felt his dick twitch under your core when you let out a loud moan at the new yet so pleasurable feeling.

You know what it is that you want, but it makes you feel dirty. Your fingers have made you finish a hundred times before, but wanting Sunghoon to make you feel that way is a whole other story. Is that even what he wants? Would he be weirded out if you asked him about it? Is there even the sliver of a chance that maybe, just maybe, he has those same thoughts about you, and wants you to make him feel good as much as he wants to make you feel good?

If his grunts and the way he ruts into you when your make-out sessions get particularly steamy are any indication, then the answer to those questions would respectively be yes, no, and yes.

You’re lying on a sunbed one afternoon, letting the sun dry off your wet skin from the pool, when you finally muster the courage to tell Sunghoon about your wishes. After all, he is your best friend, and you know you can talk to him about anything. Even when that ‘anything’ involves his fingers inside of you and his dick in your mouth.

“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head to look at your best friend. He’s bathing in the sunlight without a care in the world. His skin has tanned a bit since summer started three weeks ago and his muscles are even more defined after all that swimming and working out he’s been doing. You want to reach out a hand, to feel the taut skin of his abs and chest under your palms, and to maybe then slide your hand down until you feel his hard-on underneath his swimming trunks. Your chairs aren’t far apart and you could do it from where you are, but you’d rather ask him first.

“Yeah?” he answers without turning towards you.

You take a deep breath in before you start talking again. “You know how you said it could be good for us to get… experience before going to college… And how we’ve been kissing these past couple weeks…”

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles.

“Well… people do more than just kissing, right?” you ask, voice slightly shaky. This seems to pique his interest as he turns to look at you.

“Yeah?”

You hope you’re not just imagining the enthusiastic tone in his voice. “I think… I think we should try that too, don’t you think?” you ask, eyes not leaving his as he sits up on his chair and turns his knees towards you, fully facing you now.

“Yeah, I agree. I completely agree.” He stares at you for a few moments as if in disbelief. “Do you want to- Should we- Let’s go up to my room, yeah?” he offers, standing up and reaching his hand out to you. You gladly take it.

You and Sunghoon are a giggling mess as you practically run up the stairs, unable to get to his room quick enough. As soon as the door is closed behind you, you wrap your arms around each other, your lips finding his immediately as he walks you back to his bed. When you feel the back of your knees hit it, you detach yourself from him and lay on it, elbows holding you up as you look up at him expectantly.

“Fuck,” he whispers, leaning in to hover over you. He traps your lips in a short but sweet kiss before pulling back and murmuring against your lips, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Y/N?”

You beam at his words but decide to tease anyway. “You always go on and on about how pretty you are, but never about me.”

He giggles and pecks your lips again. “Well, I’m telling you now. You’re gorgeous.” You kiss him to hide your flustered face, pulling him so close to you he’s practically laying on top of you. Your hands are a bit more curious than usual, your kisses hungrier, the both of you anticipating what’s to come.

You grind against each other, the feeling of his erection against your barely covered core enough to send your mind into a frenzy. You forget everything around you when you feel Sunghoon pull back in the slightest, far enough so that he can look at your face and gauge your reactions but not too much that you still feel his hot breath on your lips. One of his hands is holding the back of your head as the other travels downwards, stopping for a second on your breast to massage it lightly before continuing its journey. It ever-so-slightly brushes against your core, making you buck your hips up into his touch, but his hand is already gone leaving you whining and pouting and him chuckling at your cute reaction. “You want it that bad, huh?” he teases.

You scoff, not wanting to let your friend know the effect he has on you. You press your palm against his clothed erection and he hisses at the unexpected contact. “So do you, Hoon.”

When he presses his lips to yours again, you both smile into the kiss. You cup his jaw and tangle your fingers through his hair, and his hand slips from under your head and joins his other hand on your thigh, grabbing at both of them, fingers slightly digging in your skin. He’s so, so close to where you want him most, and he seems to have noticed your growing impatience by the way you squirm underneath him. Seeing you so needy for him only makes him needier for you; he has more experience than you, so you probably expect him to take the lead, but the truth is, he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, face buried in your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses there.

“Yeah?”

“What do you want me to do?”

The question takes you a bit by surprise. You pull away to look at your friend. His eyes are completely glossed-over, and yours are probably the same. “Oh. I don’t know. I just… want you to touch me, I guess,” you say, voice a bit quiet.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admits sheepishly. He kisses your neck and cheeks before pecking your lips. “Could you- could you show me? How you do it? And I can show you how I do it?”

You take a second to take his words in. Was he suggesting that you touch yourself in front of him, and that he do the same?

This was like a dream come true.

“Yeah, sure.”

Sunghoon giggles in response, and you can’t help but crack a smile too, even though the idea of getting yourself off in front of your friend, no matter how appealing, is still a bit nerve-wracking. “You first,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes at him.

You sit back against the headboard of the bed and slip a hand underneath your swim bottom, the other hand coming up to cover your eyes in an attempt to escape Sunghoon’s heavy, lustful gaze. “None of that. I wanna see you,” he says, pulling your hand away from your eyes and resting it on a pillow next to you. “And if you keep these on, I won’t be able to see anything,” he says, looking down at your bikini top.

Before you can protest, he comes to sit on his knees in front of you, kissing your neck and letting his hands roam your back. “I wanna see all of you.” It’s so easy, untying your string bikini, he almost thinks you wore it on purpose for him to take it off. You avoid his gaze as he takes your top off of you, leaving you half-naked in front of him. “So pretty,” he whispers, and you can’t help but look at him, slick pooling between your legs from the fascination he’s looking at your breasts with. He trails kisses down your neck until he reaches them, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, then looks up to see your reaction. You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, and you can’t help but arch your back at his touch and moan loudly, hand flying up to tug at his soft hair. He releases your nipple with a pop and moves sideways to pay the same attention to the other one, but Sunghoon is impatient and doesn’t waste too much time on it; he knows he can come back to your boobs later anyway. Right now, you’ve got a hand between your legs, and that’s what he’s dying to see.

“Can I take this off, too?” he asks, looking up at you as his fingers hook on the sides of your swimming bottoms, waiting for you to nod. His eyes don’t leave your glistening core as he pulls the thin fabric down your legs, discarding it somewhere on the floor of his room. He lays on his belly and kisses the inside of your knee as he holds your thighs in his large hands, still transfixed by your pussy when he says, “Show me how you do it, please.”

You both take a sharp breath in when you start moving two fingers in gentle circles over your clit, already wet from making out with Sunghoon. Your fingers are nimble and know exactly what to do after years of doing this, but the pulse in your core is even stronger now that your best friend is watching your movements this intently. He looks like he’s scared to blink in case he might miss something. You can’t take your eyes off of his face; you’ve never seen him so fascinated by something, so eager to learn. It makes you want to put on a show for him.

A surge of confidence hits you out of nowhere as you slide your digits down your folds, gathering some slick before sliding them back up to your clit and rubbing it a bit faster, a bit harder, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. With your free hand, you tug at the base of Sunghoon’s hair and make him look up at you. You release his hair and bring your pointer finger up to your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, and Sunghoon’s mind is taken back to that day a couple weeks ago when you had sucked on those lollipops. Oh, how things have changed since then. Not that he’s complaining. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathes out, eyes zeroed in on your lips and mouth slightly agape.

You smirk at his reaction, stomach on fire with the feeling of having this kind of power on him. When you’ve wet your finger enough, you bring it down to your slit, circling around your hole before entering it, releasing a loud moan for good measure. Sunghoon is mesmerized by the quickening with which your finger slips in and out of you, the fingers on your clit never relenting. He doesn’t even realize he’s released one of your thighs to palm himself over his shorts until you notice it yourself and tut in disapproval.

“Come and help me, Hoon,” you say, and the boy snaps out of his daze at the sound of his nickname. He nods slowly, changing his position so that he’s laying between your legs, head dangerously close to your core. You slip your other finger out of your hole and he takes that as a sign to replace it with his own. One hand still gripping your thigh, he imitates your previous actions as he gets his pointer finger wet with his saliva before pressing it between your folds, right underneath your clit where your fingers are still rubbing circles, sliding it down towards your slit, and finally pushing it in.

“So warm… So wet, too,” he whispers in wonder, making you cover your eyes with your forearm out of shyness.

“Oh my God,” you moan, arching your back and letting your head drop to the side on the pillow. Sunghoon’s finger is much thicker and longer than your own, and it stretches you out and hits a deep spot inside you you never could, no matter how much you tried.

“Like this?” he asks, eyes curious as they bounce back and forth between your face and your entrance sucking his finger in.

“Yes, yes, just like that, you can also- oh- you can also curve it upwards a bit- fuck, yeah, just like that, Hoon, you’re doing so well,” you say, the praises just flying out of your mouth.

This seems to instill some confidence in him, as he cocks an eyebrow at you and speeds up his actions. “Yeah? My finger making you feel good, Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bite back, but immediately let out a long whine when he easily inserts a second finger in your soaking pussy. He curves them inside you just like you told him to, and the feeling of his fingers filling you up and your own quick ones on your clit are creating a familiar knot in your stomach that is so close to breaking. That is, until Sunghoon pulls your wrist away from your clit.

“Y/N… Can I?” he asks, and you’re not sure what he’s planning, but nod anyway. He wastes no time before pressing his tongue flat down on the sensitive bud, and you actually feel like your soul might leave your body. Fingers knuckle-deep inside you, he licks and sucks at your clit, and the warmth of his tongue against your folds is what makes you tumble over the edge, tightly gripping his hair and bucking your hips into his mouth.

“Oh my God… Oh my God, Hoon, please, don’t stop, please,” you beg, voice getting higher and whinier as you cum all over his tongue. He continues eating you out until it gets too much and you have to tell him to stop. He hikes his body up yours, pecking you sweetly on the lips when he reaches them.

“Your turn,” you announce and hook your legs over his hips to straddle him. You’re about to lean in for a kiss when you notice how lovingly he’s looking at you: his eyes are soft and a small smile is playing on his lips. It takes you aback, but you’d be lying if you said butterflies didn’t spread in your stomach. “W-why are you looking at me like that?”

His grin gets a bit wider. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Y-yeah…,” you admit, averting your gaze from him.

“I’m glad. You taste good, by the way. Sweet.” You want to kiss the devilish smirk off of his face.

You scoff at your friend, glaring a bit. “Whatever. Sit up,” you order, but it just makes him smirk more.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You look up at him to check for confirmation, and when he nods, you hook your fingers under his swimming trunks, taking them off of him along with his boxers underneath. His already fully-hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, and you curse yourself for your reaction that will surely just inflate his ego, as if it wasn’t already massive. Your mouth hangs open, eyes zeroing in on his length, flushed red from lack of attention and what you can only guess is precum leaking at the tip. It's straight from a porno.

“Like what you see?” Sunghoon teases, making you look up at him, and you can only stupidly nod. You take the position he was in earlier, laying your head on his thigh and caressing the other, letting it ride up to rub his inner thigh and the tiniest bit over his cock, making his smirk vanish as he takes a shaky breath in.

“Show me how you do it,” you say, echoing his words from earlier. He gulps, finally realizing that he was going to have to masturbate in front of your curious eyes just as you had. He spits on his open palm and spreads the precum over his length with his thumb, lubing himself up before gripping the base and starting to move his hand up and down. You watch as his head falls back against the pillow when his palm grazes over his tip and his movements pick up some speed.

You rub his palms over his thighs, itching to get closer to his cock and make him feel as good as he had done to you earlier. Tentatively, you reach out to grab his balls in your hands, massaging them softly, feeling satisfied when a loud moan leaves his throat. “Oh, f-fuck, that feels good, Y/N,” he breathes out, voice much higher than you’re used to. If he thought that felt good, then nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of your soft and warm tongue kitty-licking his balls, then taking turns sucking each one into your mouth and releasing them with a pop. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” he asks, involuntarily bucking his hips into your face.

You can’t help but giggle, and Sunghoon thinks he might come from the sweet sound contrasted with your lewd actions alone. “I read a lot of fanfiction,” you explain, and he doesn’t question it. If Wattpad taught you how to suck dick, then so be it.

You wrap your hand around his and tell him to keep going so you can get an idea of what pace and movements he likes, and you graze your fingernails over his abs and chest with your other hand, chuckling at how sensitive he is when you lightly pinch his nipples. Sunghoon takes his hand off of himself, laying both of his hands palms up next to him on the bed, so you decide to literally take things into your own hands. Trying to recreate what he did before, you spit into your palm and wrap your fingers around his tip, bringing your hand down in a swirly motion to the base of his shaft. You do that a few times, asking, “Like that?” to get confirmation from Sunghoon.

“Just like that, baby,” he says, not even taking notice of the pet name; but you do, and your face immediately flushes, surprised at how much you like it.

“Baby?” you repeat, but he’s too lost in his pleasure and just hums in response. His reaction eggs you on, and you lick a long stripe from his base to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and humming at the bitter but not unpleasant taste of precum there. When another moan escapes his throat, you take his tip in your mouth, at first just shallowly thrusting your head, but then trying to take more and more of him.

You’re so focused on what you’re doing that you don’t even realize how quickly he’s panting and how his grunts start to get whinier until he’s moaning out your name. “A-ah, Y/N, feels so good, ‘m gonna cum, fuck-”

He goes silent as he shoots his release down your throat, eyebrows deeply furrowed and mouth open wide in pleasure. There’s so much of it and you can’t swallow it all, so you pull your head back, catching your breath, and a hot string of cum hits your chin and your throat. Sunghoon takes a look at you and the sight of you with some of his cum makes his dick twitch before he plops back down on the bed. You giggle as you take tissues from the bedside table (cause of course he’s got tissues next to his bed) and wipe away his seed, then lie down next to him, brushing away the hair that’s sticking to his forehead with sweat and peppering his face with soft kisses.

He opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head to look at you before engulfing you in a bear hug, sweaty bodies sticking together but neither of you minding it. “That was so good, Y/N. What the fuck,” he sighs, pecking your forehead.

You hum, nuzzling your nose into his neck. “I know, right? Who knew you could use your mouth for other things than saying stupid shit,” you tease.

He pulls back and gives you a look that tries to be stern, but you know he’s joking. “Do I need to remind you again, young lady?”

You giggle and peck his lips, forcing him out of character as his dimples appear on his cheeks. “Later, definitely.”

And after that day, he makes sure to remind you time and time again of how good his mouth feels on you. You should’ve seen it coming with how amazing of a kisser he was; but truly, there was nothing like cumming on your friend’s tongue.

You’re relieved to find that not much has changed, after all; you and Sunghoon still play around in the pool, watch stupid movies and hang out with your friends like always. Sure, there are stray hands here and there, or looks that last a little too long and mean a little too much, but if anything, it just makes your friendship more playful and exciting.

You’re both open with what you like and don’t like, so it doesn’t take either of you to figure out exactly how to make the other come undone embarrassingly quickly. (The shortest amount of time it took him was 2:38 seconds - yes, he timed it - and he hasn’t let you live it down since.) You like it when he presses his large hand down onto your lower tummy while he eats you out, or when he sits you between his legs and whispers all sorts of things as his fingers work their magic inside you and on your clit. He likes it when you get down on your knees in front of him and look up at him as you suck him dry, or when you sit in his lap and kiss his neck and play with his hair while he plays video games. And don’t even get him started on when you palmed him over his sweatpants while you watched a movie with Chaeyong, Jay and Jake, making sure that the movements under the blanket went unnoticed by them. He wanted to punish you after they left, he really did, but you took him in your mouth right there in the living room and gave him an orgasm that had his thighs shaking for five minutes afterwards. You were pretty proud of yourself for that one.

You also find out that he hates it when you tease and edge him, which only makes you do it more; the only problem is that, if you do that, he’ll make you ride his thigh and won’t help you at all. His proud smirk and snide praises combined with the feeling of his thick thigh underneath your core were more than enough to get you to your end, though.

And truly, nothing has changed, especially not Sunghoon’s special talent in pushing boys away from you.

“What do you mean, Lee Heeseung is coming back?” he heatedly asks, slamming his glass of lemonade down on the outdoor table so hard you’re scared it might break.

“It’s the summer, of course he’s coming back. He just stayed behind for a bit to enjoy a few weeks of the city without college, and now he’s coming back here,” Jake explains, shrugging.

“Do you know when he’ll be here?” you ask, far too much excitement in your voice to Sunghoon’s taste.

“Just in a couple days.”

Sunghoon has smoke coming out of his ears when he sees how much you perk up at the news of your old crush being back in town for summer. He likes the boy, but he hates that you like him. And since Heeseung is friends with Jay, Jake, and by association Sunghoon, begrudgingly so, he’ll definitely see lots of him in the upcoming months. And if Sunghoon sees Heeseung, then you’ll see Heeseung, too. And that, Sunghoon doesn’t like.

You notice something is off with him that afternoon because of how uncharacteristically quiet he is. Sunghoon, ever the loud introvert, is always arguing for no reason and laughing louder than everybody around him. So when he merely chuckles at his friends’ numerous displays of stupidity in the pool and doesn’t even say anything in protest to you getting on Jake’s shoulders to play against Chaeyoung and Jay, you know something is definitely up. You also have a good idea of what that something might be, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it endearing.

You stay behind when your friends leave in the early evening. Without a word, you and Sunghoon pack away the inflatable toys in the pool cabin and clean up the table, putting the dirty glasses in the sink. You do the dishes while he prepares sandwiches for the two of you, which he insisted on doing after he heard your stomach grumbling. You watch the latest Kurtis Conner video as you eat and can’t help but notice that he doesn’t even chuckle at any of the jokes or skits when he’d usually be clutching his stomach in laughter.

When you’re done eating, you take a resolute breath and pause the video, but Sunghoon doesn’t even notice, only snapping out of his daze when you call out his name.

“Huh?” When his eyes find you, he almost looks surprised to see you, as if he’d forgotten you were there.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you ask, slightly frowning. “You look so out of it today.”

“Huh? I’m fine, nothing’s wrong,” he says dismissively and presses play, but you quickly pause the video again.

“I’m your best friend, Sunghoon, I know when something’s the matter and I know when you’re lying. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but don’t pretend everything’s fine when we both know that’s not true.”

He peers at you for a moment, cursing you for knowing him so well. He crosses his arm and averts his gaze, pouting like an angry child. “I hate it when you’re right.”

You giggle and make your way around the counter to him, standing inbetween his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck to make him look up at you. His hands come naturally up to your waist. “I just…” he starts, then immediately stops himself with a sigh., “You’ve always had a crush on Heeseung. But these are our last couple months together, and I don’t want somebody else taking up your attention…”

He buries his face between your breasts to hide his blush, and you can’t help but giggle again. “Stop laughing at me!” he protests, but the muffled sound of his voice just makes you laugh more. You stroke his hair and press a gentle kiss at the top of his head.

“Sure, I’m happy Heeseung’s coming back. But there’s no one I’d rather spend my summer with than you, Sunghoon, you should know that.” He leans back to look up at you with puppy eyes and a small pout. You cup his face, admiring how cute he looks like this, and smile softly down at him.

“Really?”

“Really,” you answer, and he leans in for a kiss.

It’s a soft one. It’s a patient kiss, neither of you urging to get somewhere else, to do something more. It reminds you of that kiss in his room a few weeks ago, when you were still curious and discovering each other. From then on, your kisses had become more feverish, more eager, more playful. But now, you’re taking your time. For now at least, neither of you is going anywhere. So your lips melt together slowly, and when you take breaks to breathe, you look each other in the eyes and smile before leaning back in.

It’s when you sigh against his lips, eyes still closed as you pull away, that it hits him. I could do this forever, he thinks.

I could sit here with my arms around her waist and her lips against mine and the smell of chlorine and the sound of her laugh forever and I’d never get tired of it, he thinks, but immediately afterwards, he realizes he won’t get to do this forever. Summer will end, you’ll both head off to college, and you’ll only get to see each other every few months until another summer comes. And who knows what might happen until then?

You might meet someone and realize Sunghoon isn’t all that; hell, he might meet someone, but he highly doubts anyone could even come close to the way you make him feel.

“Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?” you quietly joke, looking down at him with an affectionate look in your eyes. You press the pads of your fingers to his two moles before replacing your fingers with your lips, giving each one a quick peck. “You were up on the moon for a minute there.”

Sunghoon hums softly, smiling as he lets himself melt under your touch. “Sorry. It’s just really hot, isn’t it?” he says, a stupid excuse he uses as a blanket to cover his feelings. There is some sweat beading at his hairline, which helps make his lie more believable, but you don’t need to know it’s not just because of the summer heat.

Slowly, your smile turns mischievous, and Sunghoon can tell you have an idea in mind. “It is pretty hot… Wait here.”

He watches as you fill a tall glass with ice from the dispenser in the fridge and pop an ice cube in your mouth, a devilish smile on your face, and laughs when that smile is replaced with a frown as the coldness hits you and you spit it back into the glass, laughing along with him. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks between giggles.

“I got the idea a few days ago when we were having popsicles…,” you say looking down at the glass between your hands, slightly embarrassed. “You kissed me and your mouth was really cold but it felt nice.” Sunghoon hums, egging you to go on. You lift the glass up to his cheeks, applying just a bit of pressure to the soft skin. “I thought this could be refreshing.”

You take the ice cube back in your mouth, sucking on it but not letting it melt completely before pressing your lips against Sunghoon’s and opening your mouth just a bit so he could feel the cold of the ice cube. You feel his smile into the kiss as the ice cube swirls between your tongues, sending shivers down your spine.

“Very refreshing indeed,” he murmurs when the ice has completely melted. He gets up and takes the glass in one of his hands, leaning down to your level and says “C’mon” with the same mischievous smile as you on his face.

You two hurry up the stairs, and when you get to his room, he hands you the glass before throwing himself on his back, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. “Show me what you had in mind.”

You straddle his hips and take an ice cube from the glass, rubbing it over his lips before pushing it inside his mouth, the cold making him hiss. You quickly counteract that by pressing your lips to his, the contrast of your warm tongue and the freezing ice turning him on more than he would’ve thought.

When the ice has melted, you take another piece and brush it along his jaw, down his Adam’s apple and around his nipples. The cold temperature makes him squirm but he doesn’t shy away from it, even closing his eyes to focus solely on the feeling. While you play with the ice cube, you also leave warm kisses all over his skin, reveling in its slightly salty taste from the thin layer of sweat. You let the ice cube melt between his abs and watch him wriggle as he sucks in a sharp breath, then grab another one, starting off where the previous one stopped. You circle his navel while your fingers play with the hem of his swimming trunks. He pulls them down himself and you chuckle at his eagerness. “I should’ve known you liked the cold, with all those years of ice skating you did,” you tease.

He’s almost fully hard, and it only takes a few kisses and trailing the ice cube down his inner thighs to have his dick fully erect. He’d only been letting out small sighs and hisses until now, but when you grab another ice cube and circle it around his sensitive tip, he throws his head back into the pillows and moans loudly. You push your luck and drag the ice cube down his shaft, his thighs snapping together when it reaches his balls. You put it in your mouth and let it melt so that your tongue is still cold when you swirl it around his tip, already tasting precum there. But before you can take him further in your mouth, he calls out your name.

“Wait. I don’t wanna cum just yet. My turn.”

He shakes his shoulders in excitement as you switch positions, you taking your t-shirt and bikini top off and laying on your back and him sitting down with one knee on each side of your thighs, an ice cube in his hand and a giddy smile on his face.

He brushes it over your lips before pushing it just a bit into your mouth, holding onto it with two fingers while you suck on it, gazes locked in each other. Just as you did earlier, he trails it down your throat and your chest until they reach your nipples, marveling at the thin wet trail it leaves in its wake. He licks this trail as he circles one of your nipples with the ice cube, and you don’t know if you should focus on his warm tongue or on the cold ice cube. Once it’s melted, he takes another one and circles your other nipple with it, his mouth coming to wrap around the now cold one. Your hands fly up to grab at his hair, your back arching into his touch as you moan and pant loudly.

He sucks and licks at your nipples until you’re calling out his name, begging for more. As nice as his mouth or an ice cube around your nipples feel, your pussy is throbbing and desperate for attention. “Sunghoon… Please,” you whine.

“Please what?” he teases, looking up from your breasts with a smirk.

You whine again, knowing he knows full well what you want. “Please…”

He trails the ice cube down your stomach, circling your navel a few times where it melts before slipping two cold fingers underneath your bikini bottoms. “Is this what you want, baby?,” he asks as he rubs his fingers between his folds, and you whine at the feeling of having him so close to your hole and to your clit but not quite there either. He smirks when you nod frantically but whine at the loss of his fingers against you as he takes your bottoms off and reaches for another ice cube.

You release a loud moan and arch your back off the bed when the ice cube touches your clit. “Fuck, Hoon!”

He rubs the ice cube up and down your folds, your heat melting it much faster than your skin. He takes another one and brings it to your entrance this time, circling around it before pushing the ice cube in and staring with wonder as it melts quickly. He holds your hips down so you stop bucking them up, whimpering at the amazing feeling of the ice against you. He replaces the ice cube with his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit, sucking expertly at the sensitive bud and lapping at your juices. And while it feels good - God, does it feel good - and you let Sunghoon know just how nice it feels with your moans, whispers of his names and the way you hold onto his hair, you’re craving something more.

It’s something you’ve been wanting for the past few days, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. No matter how nice Sunghoon’s fingers and mouth felt, they didn’t make you feel close to him enough. You wanted to be so close to him you didn’t know where you ended and where he started; you wanted to feel him.

You pull him up by the face, asking him to come here and getting lost in his lips as soon as they reach your level. God, Sunghoon’s kisses. You could drown in them. But still, that craving, that need for more. And now that his body is pressed up against yours and you can feel his erection against your thigh, so close to your core, you think you know what it is that you want. “Hmm, please…”

“You keep asking me for something, but you don’t tell me what it is.”

“You. I want you, Hoon, please,” you beg, murmuring against his lips as you wrap your legs around his hips and bring him even closer, his cock now pressing against your cunt.

“M-me?,” he asks, leaning back just a bit, but you pull him back in right away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please. I need to feel you inside me.”

Your words are enough to get a moan out of Sunghoon. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he pants, planting kisses all over your face and neck. Usually, you’d giggle at the ticklish sensation, but right now, you’re so drunk on pleasure, it just makes your breath even shallower and your core wetter.

“How long?”

“God. Since the second time we kissed probably,” he replies, reaching for a condom in the drawer of his bedside table. You think back to that moment six weeks ago (how has it been six weeks already?, you think), after you and Sunghoon had made up and made out on his couch in front of a horror movie. He’d wanted you for that long? And he’d waited for you to say something since then?

“Today’s your lucky day, then,” you tease in an attempt to alleviate the need for him that takes over your bones, but his gaze when he looks back at you ruins any effort. If anything, it just makes you need him even more. You feel like you might explode if you don’t have him right now.

You watch as he clumsily wraps the condom around his member, clearly never having done this before, but you wouldn’t be of any help, so you let him figure it out on his own. You let your head fall back as he rubs his tip up and down your folds, gathering your slick on his dick before aligning himself at your entrance and giving you a long, deep kiss.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, forehead on yours.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am. But I’m also scared.”

“Scared of what, Hoon?” you ask, opening your eyes to look at him. You caress his cheek and cup his face in your hands, watching softly as he lets his head rest on your palm.

“I’m scared of hurting you. I heard it hurts the first time. And I’m scared…” he closes his eyes and frowns a bit. “I’m scared it’ll feel too good. That I’ll always want it. You.”

You take a small moment to think, your thumb brushing over his cheek in what you hope is a comforting manner. “You won’t hurt me, Hoon. It only hurts if you’re not ready… And I’m plenty ready. I know you’ll take it slow.” You smile softly when he nods, turning his head to kiss your palm. But if sex is as good as you’ve heard it is, you’re also scared that it might be the best thing you’ve ever experienced and that you’ll never get enough. You and Sunghoon have been meeting up almost everyday this summer and it has more often than not ended up with one of you between the other’s legs; you could never get bored of the things he made you feel or of knowing you were making him feel those exact same things. If you couldn’t live without his fingers, how could you live without his dick?

How could you live without him?

You tried to snap out of those thoughts, reassuring yourself that even before all of this you couldn’t imagine yourself living without Sunghoon, and that there was no reason this should change anything. “And don’t be scared of that, silly,” you say, making him smile. “I’ll always be here, Sunghoon. I’ll always want you, too.”

“Fuck, okay,” he whispers, kissing your lips once before pulling himself up on his palms, hovering over you. “Tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?” he asks and waits for you to nod before finally pushing in.

You instantly moan when you feel his tip inside you, and Sunghoon stops, frantically asking if you’re okay. It takes some convincing to get him to push himself further in. “It feels so good, Hoon. Please keep going.”

You tell him to not stop until he’s fully inside you, and he obeys, even though he wants to stop when he sees your frown and your sharp intakes of breath. When he’s buried to a hilt, he can’t help but collapse on top of you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Y/N,” he drawls out. “Feels so fucking good. So tight,” he murmurs against your neck.

“Mmh. Give me a minute, baby.” Your hands caress up and down the expanse of his back and you feel him relax on top of you. As you adjust around his length, the stretch starts to feel more and more pleasurable, until pleasure is the only thing you feel. “Hoon?”

“Yeah?” he says, kissing and nibbling softly at your neck and earlobe.

“You can move, now.”

Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice and ever-so-slowly slides out of you, leaving only the tip in before he slides back in. His thrusts are slow but deep, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s barely started but you’re both already whimpering messes, holding onto each other tightly as pleasure like neither of you has felt before takes over your entire bodies.

As you both get more comfortable, his pace picks up just a tiny bit and you tentatively raise your legs higher so that they’re hooked around the back of his knees instead of laying on the bed. The new angle only adds to the intense pleasure, but you don’t even realize you’re crying until Sunghoon stops mid-thrust, wiping your tears with his thumb and worryingly asking if you’re okay and if it hurts and if he should stop. You open your eyes and smile, instantly calming his nerves. You bring his head closer to yours and kiss him like you’d stop breathing if you didn’t. “It feels so fucking good, Hoon. So, so good.”

He sighs out of relief and resumes his actions, heart swelling with pride that he’s making you feel so good, you’re crying. He’s always hated seeing you cry or hurt in general; but knowing what kind of tears these are, he thinks you look so pretty with tears streaming down your face. His hands grip your thighs a bit tighter as he quickens his pace, already addicted to the feeling of your warm walls taking him in so well.

He slips out a few times but you’re always quick to guide him back inside you. He lifts his body up a bit to get a deeper angle, hoping it’ll get him to stop slipping out, and he’s blown away by the sight underneath him. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous as you do now, legs spread wide for him, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed and mouth agape for him. He kisses your tears, the salty taste bringing a smile to his lips. “So perfect,” he whispers against your mouth. “You look so beautiful.”

Sunghoon takes your legs and wraps them higher around his hips, the new angle hitting a spot inside you that’s making you see stars and has you moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know how to say. You feel that familiar tension build up inside your stomach much faster and much stronger than it usually does.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum,” you warn, and a harsher thrust inside you is what pushes you over the edge, the sensation crashing into you and making your thighs shake. An orgasm has never hit you this hard before.

You’re clenching around him like crazy and Sunghoon gasps as you milk him dry, his own orgasm hitting him all at once. He shoots his release inside the condom and stills inside you, breath completely taken away by the sudden, overwhelming sensation.

He lays on top of you for a moment as you both catch your breaths, trying to make sense of how something can feel this good without killing you instantly. He apologizes when his pulling out makes you wince and kisses the top of your head. He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so that you’re now almost lying on top of him, head against his chest as his arms wrap themselves around you. You leave kisses all over his chest and neck and his hands caress your back.

“That was amazing.”

“I know, right?” he responds immediately, his enthusiasm making you laugh.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say timidly, voice muffled against his skin.

“For what?”

“For making me feel this good.”

He chuckles. “No need to thank me, pretty. If anything, I should thank you for letting me make you feel good, and on top of that making me feel good.”

You hum at his words and you both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying each other’s warmth. Something blooms inside your chest, and you don’t know whether to let it grow or to squash it down. It feels nice, almost too nice, and you’re scared it might get ripped away from you and it won’t feel so nice then.

Friendship, sex, love. In those weeks spent with Sunghoon, those previously clear lines have blurred to a point they were all one big messy ball of feelings and not three distinct things you could tell apart. Has sex turned your friendship with Sunghoon into something romantic? Or is that just an illusion, and being so intimate with your best friend has messed up your once platonic vision of him? But was your vision of him ever platonic?

Haven't the two of you always been teased about liking each other for a reason? After all, you and Sunghoon didn't grow up together, and he’s never felt like a brother to you. He has always been your male friend; you’ve always been aware that he was your friend who was also a boy. When you'd moved in the house next to his, you hadn’t instantly clicked; it took a while for the ice skating prodigy to warm up to you, but his parents had warmly welcomed yours into the neighborhood and quickly became friends, so it was only a matter of time before he’d open up to the idea of you being around. Constantly.

You’d walk to and from school together, do homework together, go on family trips together, cheer each other on at your respective competitions. After his ice skating lessons, when his coach let him have the whole place to himself for a bit more practice, he’d tie your ice skates for you and drag you onto the ice rink, holding you by the waist or shoulders as he skated backwards in front of you, but also laughing at you when you inevitably fell. He’d tease you for getting second place at the science fair or for getting your arguments torn apart during Model United Nations, but the way he’d be a little nicer to you or share his food more often that week wouldn’t escape you.

Being a handsome young ice skater, Sunghoon had developed quite the loyal following of boys and girls alike who would come to see him at his competitions. He thrived off of the attention, but no matter how much he enjoyed his fans’ admiration, you were always the one he’d skate to after having won first place, hugging you tightly over the barrier separating the ice from the bleachers. Especially during your younger teen years, Sunghoon wasn’t one for skinship or PDA, so it always meant that much more to you that even after his most important wins, you were the first thing on his mind. It never failed to make your stomach flip, and all the death stares from his fans in the world couldn’t have changed a thing.

You were already close, but you became practically inseparable after Sunghoon’s injury. During the competition that would have gotten him a place at the Youth Winter Olympics had he won, his nerves got the best of him and he didn’t land his triple axel, hurting his ankle in the process. Ten years of dedication and hard work, ruined in mere seconds. To say that it destroyed him would be an understatement.

You were the one to bring him back up. You listened to him when he needed to vent, held him when he needed a shoulder to cry on, cheered him up when he needed to smile. He didn’t even need to tell you what he needed, you seemed to just know. You reminded him that he had a lot more value than his medals and trophies and that he didn’t need them to be complete. His family and friends tried their best to make him feel better, but their words never reached him quite like yours did.

Slowly but surely, his confidence came back. He’d lost his fans, but he’d gained a friend he knew would always be there for him. His dimples would appear more often, his laugh would resonate louder. His injury had made the two of you grow closer, creating a bond that would only strengthen over time.

And yet there were moments when being friends wasn’t enough. When calling him your best friend didn’t feel right. You had other friends, friends you were close to; sure, maybe not as close as to Sunghoon, but close nonetheless. And you didn’t feel that way around them.

Their laugh didn’t make your heart skip a beat. You didn’t want to bury your face in their necks and breathe in their scent when they hugged you. You didn’t want to know every single detail of their day. And you surely didn’t feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when they danced with another girl at your school ball.

You also didn’t crave their lips on yours every single day since it had happened for the first time and didn’t want to see what they sounded or looked like while getting the life sucked out of them through their dick.

Everybody told you it was obvious you were ‘more than friends.’ Why did romantic love have to be ‘more’ than platonic love? Why were there levels to it? You didn’t like the idea of taking your relationship with Sunghoon ‘one step further’; that wasn’t the way it felt to you. Rather, it felt like having to change everything you knew and create something new. Something where you could see him laugh and tell him about your day, but where you could also kiss him and graze his skin with your fingertips. Something that only you could share with him and only he could share with you. But you were afraid the friendship would fall apart if things didn't work out. So, instead of taking the risk of changing everything, you made sure things would stay the same. You’d tell the butterflies raging in your stomach to settle down and you wouldn’t let yourself fall into his touch in case it’d be like falling from the highest mountain.

That is, until he kissed you. Until this moment, right now, lying in his arms, ear right over his heart so you can hear it beat for you. You look up at him. His eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on his lips. He looks so peaceful. He always looks pleased when you’ve just been together, but right now, he seems to be in such a serene state, it almost makes you laugh.

Now that you’ve given in to your feelings, you’ve realized just how strong they were this whole time. Nothing has ever felt better than being in Sunghoon’s arms, than being able to see him at his most vulnerable state and to give all of you to him. All those things you didn’t know about him just six weeks ago, you know them by heart now. You’re sure there’s other things to find out, and you’ll make sure you will.

But summer won’t last forever.

A wave of sadness slaps you right in the face, bringing you back to reality. There’ll come a time where you and Sunghoon won’t be able to lounge around all day or lazily make-out at your will. You’ll go your own ways and not see each other for months at a time. The thought of that is unbearable, and you feel like looking at Sunghoon for a second longer might rip your heart into a million pieces.

When you sit up, tearing yourself away from his grip, he immediately opens his eyes, asking what’s wrong.

“Just need to go to the bathroom. I heard you can get STIs from not peeing after sex,” you half-lie. He nods and falls back into the bed.

You rush to the toilet, needing to get far away from Sunghoon as quickly as possible. Even your pee smells different - guess that’s what having a dick inside you will do to you. You wash your hands and look in the mirror: your skin is darker in some spots, surely Sunghoon’s work. So not only did he mess with your thoughts, he also had to make your body all weird, too?

You splash your face with cold water, hoping it will bring you back to your senses. You and Sunghoon have been best friends for years. There’s no point in changing all of that now, is there? You’ll be leaving soon enough, anyway. Why ruin a perfectly fine friendship for a summer fling?

Those are your thoughts as you head back to Sunghoon’s bedroom, ready to tell him that this whole thing was a mistake and you should just pretend it never happened. But your resolve crumbles at your feet as soon as you step inside the room.

Sunghoon’s got a couple of snacks ready as he browses through Netflix in search of an appropriate movie. “How about Twilight?” he says when he feels the bed dip under your weight next to him. He kisses your forehead and pulls you down on the bed with him so that you’re lying back against his chest.

Screw it, you think. Whatever this is, it’s much more than a summer fling.

The rest of the summer goes by in a flash. No, you don’t try to make Sunghoon jealous by flirting with Heeseung; if the mention of the latter’s name was enough to get your friend mad, then purposefully twirling your hair or batting your eyelashes at the older boy just might make Sunghoon white-boy-punch a hole into a wall. And it’s not like Heeseung would try coming onto you, either, with how clingy Sunghoon gets when he’s around, always an arm around your waist and a glare that could kill Heeseung.

Sunghoon gradually opens up to Heeseung being around, even though it takes you reminding him almost daily that he’s the one whose arms you wanna end up in over anybody’s. After a couple weeks, Sunghoon stops looking like he's on the brink of starting a fight every time Heeseung so much as talks to you or hands you a glass of lemonade, and finally relaxes around him.

You spend countless sleepless nights with Sunghoon. You’ve probably memorized every single one of his moles by now, and you’ve made sure to kiss all of them. He holds you against him like he might lose you at any given moment. The only nights you don’t fall asleep in each other’s embrace are when either one of you is sleeping over at your friend’s house. On those nights, sleep always takes hours before washing over you, the lack of warmth keeping you awake.

Your friends and you spend entire days at the lake or by Sunghoon’s pool, not a care in the world. You rest your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder as you watch the fireworks Jake and Jay bought go off. Sunghoon grills your marshmallows for you, blowing on them so they cool down before handing you the stick. You try to ignore how the night air gets slightly chillier and how the sun sets slightly earlier, but by the last days of August, it becomes too noticeable. When September rolls around, you’re sure there’s a small crack in your heart.

You know Sunghoon feels the end of summer too. His kisses are deeper and his lips linger over yours a second longer. He frowns when he kisses you and hugs you, like he’s trying to remember what it feels like. His usual playful demeanor when you’re in bed together is gone, instead seemingly hellbent on making you feel good and almost begging you to say his name. As if you could say any other name. As if you could say anything else.

Neither of you mention your departure until the night before you leave. After spending the evening with your friends, you lie together in bed, the side of your face resting against his chest so you can feel his heart against your ear. He’s tracing patterns with his fingertips on your back, and it takes you a while to figure out he’s spelling his name over and over again, as if to etch it in your skin. When, once in a while, he takes his hand off of you to reach for his phone, you can still feel his fingers caressing you, ghostlike against your skin.

The air around you feels heavy, pressing the both of you down into the mattress. You wish the bed would eat you alive so you could stay there, warm against each other, as long as you like. You know you can’t leave without talking first, but the words won’t come to you. Instead, they float around the bed, weighing your heart down into your stomach.

“So,” you start. You're unsure what to say, but you know this conversation has to happen, one way or another. In the end, you settle on, “Excited to leave?”

Sunghoon scoffs lightly, his motions on your back coming to a stop. “Not really, no. It’s not like I’m leaving that far, and half of our school is going to our uni.”

“Maybe, but there’ll be tons of other people. Tons of other girls, too,” you add after a short pause.

“Don’t do this, Y/N, please.”

You sit up at his words. He covers his eyes with his forearm and takes a deep breath in, sensing an incoming argument. “Do what?”

“This. Getting mad at me when I haven’t done anything.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you protest, frowning down at him.

“No? Then what’s this?” he says, smoothing down the lines between your eyebrows and on your forehead with the pad of a finger.

“Whatever.” You nudge your head away from his touch. It burns. “It’s not like I’m wrong, anyway. You’re gonna have a bunch of girls at your feet, and you’ll know what to do with them, right? Now that you’re not a virgin?” you question, avoiding his gaze.

“Y/N…” he sighs, shutting his eyes tighter as if in pain.

“What? This was the whole reason why, right? Get experience with me so you could fuck girls better, no?”

“Y/N!” he says, raising his voice enough to let you know he’s upset but not enough to scare you. He sits up, looking at you with hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “What’s this all of a sudden? It’s not like I forced you into this! We agreed on it together!”

“So you agree? That this summer was just about getting experience and now you’ll use it on other girls and pretend like we,” you gesture between the two of you, “never happened?”

“What do you mean ‘agree’? I never said any of this! Don’t put words into my mouth!”

He watches as you get up from the bed, arms crossed and pacing his room. He calls out to you a few times, but you don’t stop to look at him until he speaks your name with a sternness you’ve never heard before from him. “What?” you snap.

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this out of nowhere! We both knew summer was gonna end at some point, and why we were doing this! Why are you blaming me now?”

“Because… because…” you sigh, scrambling for an excuse. Why were you doing this? The thought of Sunghoon doing what he did to you to another girl, making her feel as good as he had made you feel, kissing her like he had kissed you, made you sick. It made you see red, it made you want to make him wear a shirt with your face on it so everybody knew he was yours.

Sunghoon gets up and stands close in front of you, too close. You close your eyes. If you see his moles, you might reach out to touch them and let yourself fall even more. If you fall, you’ll need to get up, but his scent makes your knees weak.

His hands find your face, holding a little too gently, you think. Your small ones wrap around his wrists and grip them, a little too harshly, he thinks.

You take a step back and finally look into his eyes. There’s hope in them; hope you’ll say what he wants, what he needs to hear. That you want him like he wants you. That you wish summer wasn’t over. That you’ll keep him in your heart until you can see him again. So, when what you say next is none of the above, he feels his heart sink down to his feet, leaving a murky puddle there.

“I can’t do this.”

You rush out of the room, practically running home. You fight your tears back until you slam your bedroom behind you, pathetically sinking to the ground as you let out a loud sob. You don't have the energy to get up, and cry into your hoodie's sleeve right there on the floor.

When you’ve calmed down a bit, you get up and lay in your bed, hiding your whole body underneath the covers. Maybe this is for the best, you think. If you end it like this, you won’t have the knowledge of whether he’ll wait to have you back or he’ll move on like nothing happened. That way, you can do whatever you want, not caring about what he’s up to.

But even now, your hands subconsciously reach out towards a person that’s not there and your feet hang over the edge of your bed as though to get up and run to him anytime. You curl in on yourself to stop your body from aching for him. It doesn’t work very well.

Sunghoon stays where you left him for a few minutes, too stunned to move. Should he run after you? Should he let you cool off for a bit and talk to you in the morning? Would you be mad at him if he didn’t try to see you now or would the mere sight of him just make you angrier? He plops down on his bed as these questions run through his mind, butting into each other and making everything more confusing.

He thinks back on everything that led to this, and his mind settles on that day a few days after graduation where his thoughts had dropped to the lowest pits of hell. If only you hadn’t brought those two damned lollipops.

The next morning, Sunghoon wakes up as if somebody had slapped him awake. He doesn’t bother to brush his teeth or eat anything before running over to your house, almost forgetting to put shoes on. He finds you in your room, packing the last of your things into an already full suitcase. He stands at your door, panting as his hands rest on his knees.

“You haven’t left yet. Thank God.”

“God, Hoon. It’s not that far between your house and mine. How are you so out of breath,” you say, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He walks to you and kneels in front of you, taking you in his arms before you can say anything. “Talk to me, please. Don’t leave like this. I’d never forgive myself if you left and you were mad at me, Y/N.”

You thought you’d cried so much last night that there was not a single drop of water left in your body, but you thought wrong. Your eyes immediately well up at his words, and he leans back when he hears a soft sniffle escaping you. Only then does he notice how puffy your eyes from all your crying.

“No, no… Have you been crying? I’m so sorry, pretty, please don’t cry,” he pouts, pulling you back into his embrace. It hasn’t even been half a day, but you missed his warmth so much, it only makes you cry harder.

After sobbing against his chest, possibly staining his shirt in the process, you pull away and in your light-headed, dehydrated state, spill your heart out. “It’s so stupid,” you sob. “We’re not gonna see each other for months and I’m gonna miss you so much and I don’t want you to be with other girls. I want you all to myself and I don’t want to be your friend that you fucked for a summer just so you could get experience, it was a stupid idea in the first place, if you wanted to kiss me, you should’ve just kissed me. But you didn’t just kiss me and now I’m scared that this all meant nothing to you but everything to me and that I don’t want to be friends anymore but you do and I’m mad that it took me all summer to say this even though I’ve known it for years but I didn’t want to admit it to myself but also you didn’t say anything and I’m mad about that too. Because there’s no way you don’t feel like I do but maybe you actually don’t and-”

Whatever you were about to say dies out against Sunghoon’s lips as he presses his lips to yours, interrupting your rambling. He pulls away, looking at you with a huge, stupid grin. He’s so stupid, you think. I love him so much.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for you to say this so bad, you have no idea.”

You punch his chest, frowning at him. Those stupid tears won’t stop. Everything is so stupid. “Then why didn’t you say it first?”

“Because I didn’t know how to. You know I’m bad with words. And I was scared it’d make things weird.”

“I don’t want things to be weird,” you pout.

“I don’t want things to be weird, either. I want things to be nice and happy.”

You giggle. “That’s so stupid.”

“Right? It’s so stupid,” he repeats, kissing you again.

“Your breath smells,” you complain when he pulls away.

“And you have tears on your lips. Tastes salty,” he teases.

“Yeah, thanks to who?”

“Sorry.” He smiles and kisses you again. He holds you against him for a while, enjoying this last moment together. As long as he can see a smile on your face before you leave, he’ll be fine.

“I’m gonna miss you so much too, Y/N. And forget about those non-existent girls. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you.”

“How do you know? You haven’t met any of them yet,” you say, voice muffled against his t-shirt.

“I’ve met other girls before. None of them compare to you,” he says, and you immediately gag at how cliché it sounds. “What?! It’s true,” he giggles.

“You’re not gonna go and date a random guy, are you?”

“Of course not. None of them compare to you,” you say, lowering your voice to imitate his.

He helps you finish packing, and when you’re done, you lay together on your bed, not saying much because not much needs to be said. Your parents struggle to tear you away from each other and from your bed when it’s time to leave. He helps your dad put your baggage in the trunk of his car, telling you to not lift a finger so you watch him go to and from the car, leaving a kiss on your forehead every time he walks past you. You notice with a smile that he doesn’t carry much at once, making him have to go back-and-forth quite often.

After saying goodbye to your family, your dad waits in the car as you and Sunghoon hang back awkwardly, kicking small pebbles on the pavement. He takes your hand in his, making you look up at him, then takes the other hand, then hugs you close to him.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you say, as if that wasn’t obvious. You’re trying hard to fight tears from falling again, but it’s like there’s an ocean behind your eyes, water somehow never running out.

“I already miss you,” he says, and that’s enough to get you to sob again, which makes him start crying too. You’re crying, he’s crying, your mom is crying from the porch as she watches the two of you, it’s a mess.

You force yourself away from him, cupping his face in your hands. “We’ll see each other soon, okay? And college will be fun. You won’t even have time to miss me. But make time to think about me, yeah? And text me.”

“I will. I’ll think about you all the time, I already do,” he says.

“Okay,” you whisper and hug him one last time, very briefly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You’re about to walk away but he doesn’t let go of your hand and pulls on your arm to bring you back to him.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I love you,” and you sob.

“I love you, too.”

This time, when you walk away, he lets you go. He watches as you get into the passenger’s seat and as the car drives away, as it takes you away from him. You watch him stand there in the rearview mirror, until his silhouette becomes smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until you can’t see him at all anymore.

Summer went and fall came as they do every year. Dead leaves are falling but it’s a new start for you. It’s a new town and you don’t know anybody, but you click instantly with your roommate and make new friends throughout your first week there. You realize everybody’s in the same boat, and they’re all eager to meet people and are curious about college life. You love your classes but complain about them nonetheless. You eat more ramen than you’d like to admit and turn up hungover at a 9 am class on a Thursday. You pull all-nighters at the library and develop a caffeine dependency. You’re a college student.

You and Sunghoon were very dramatic when you left, you soon realize. You call almost everyday. He’s not there with you and you miss him but at least you don’t have to pretend you’re not stupidly in love with him anymore. Because it’s stupid, being in love, it really is. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Your first semester passes by almost too quickly, and before you know it, you’re on the drive home, already one eighth of the way through university. You’re excited to go home, but Sunghoon’s finals last a week longer so you wait around for him. When you complain about it, Chaeyoung tells you to get a grip. “You haven’t seen him in three months, I’m sure you can handle another week.”

And you can, but barely. You were about to explode but then he’s back and you’re in his arms and his hair is still so soft, his scent is still so comforting and his moles are still there. You kiss them both before you finally press your lips to his, and it makes you feel so alive, you could die right then and there.

You lie on his bed and talk for hours as if you didn’t keep in touch the whole time and it’s like you never left. It’s like summer never ended and you’ve just been lying in his bed the whole time, college just one big fever dream.

But his skin doesn’t smell like chlorine anymore, and he’s not in his swimming trunks. It’s fall, almost winter, and you’re kissing Park Sunghoon. You realize you can kiss him whatever the season and you find comfort in that. It was a big day (you cried a lot when you saw him) and you’re tired so you think you’ll kiss for a bit and that’ll be all but then he whispers “I missed you so much” against your neck and a fire lights inside your stomach. Oh, how it burns. You think it might consume you whole, but you don’t dislike that idea.

In a flash, you’re on top of him, his shirt is off, your shirt is off, but it’s not enough so you take your pants off too and Sunghoon is confused as to why you’re going so fast, but follows you anyway. “What’s going on?” he asks when you’re done with the taking off of your clothes and have moved on to kissing and biting at his neck like it’s your first meal in ages, because it is.

“I missed you too,” you simply answer, and he smirks as he nods slowly, now understanding your eagerness.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he teases, letting his head fall back against the pillow so you have better access to his neck.

“Shut up. Kiss me,” you order, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Your kisses are ravenous and desperate, very fitting for two horny people in love who haven’t seen each other in months. But the pulse in your core makes you too impatient to stay anywhere for too long, and really, it’s not your fault if you’re grinding down onto Sunghoon’s clothed erection, it’s just that he smells too good and you missed him too much.

Sunghoon laughs at you for being so impatient to hide just how impatient he is. His giggles keep him from moaning loudly enough to wake the whole house, and you laugh as you tell him to stop laughing.

“I’m serious. I missed you so much. Need you so bad,” you say as you get rid of your underwear and quickly do the same for his. He gasps when he feels you take his dick in your hand and brush its tip between your folds, both out of pleasure and out of surprise.

“Shouldn’t I get you ready? Stretch you out a bit?” he asks, his hands roaming up and down your back as he sits up on the bed so that you’re straddling his lap, and you shake your head no. You’re probably already embarrassingly wet from your short makeout session, anyway.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” you say, lining his tip with your entrance. “Need to feel you.”

You sink down on his cock, the both of you releasing loud moans at the long-awaited feeling. He lets you adjust to his size for a minute, but as soon as you move your hips just a bit, signaling to him that you’re ready for more, it’s over for you. He wanted to be patient and take his time, he really did, but you feel so warm around him and your small whimpers are so pretty that his resolve of letting you take the lead is thrown out the window. He pounds into you at a rapid pace that has you biting his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming.

You had imagined your first time back with Sunghoon so many times before. It usually involved a nice playlist in the background, fairy lights and candles lighting the room, hours of foreplay and sensual lovemaking, with a nice bath afterwards. Sometimes, when you were particularly needy for him, you imagined something closer to what was actually happening, where you’d rip each other’s clothes as soon as you got to the bedroom and fucked like animals (a bit much, admittedly, but you really missed him).

What you definitely hadn’t expected, however, was that you’d both cum in less than five minutes. What could you do, though, when he was hitting your g-spot over and over again, his length stretching you perfectly as he whispered in your ear how much he’d missed you and how good you felt? And what could he do when you took him in so well, clinging onto him as you told him how much you’d missed him and how good he felt?

You finish at the same time, hole clenching around him and milking him dry. He doesn’t pull out for a while, letting you collapse onto him as you both catch your breaths, just like you had that first time. “That was a bit quick,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh.

You pull back to look at his face. It’s so pretty and stupid. What a stupid face that you love so much. Do you love it because it’s stupid or is it stupid because you love it? You think that that’s a stupid question, and you kiss the mole on his nose, then the mole on his cheek, right next to his nose.

“We have all night to go slower.”

“We have all Christmas break,” he corrects.

We have the rest of our lives, you think, and you think that might be a bit much, but you say it anyway. Sunghoon hums and says, “yes, we do,” and you think maybe it’s not all that stupid.

Maybe it’s the greatest thing that’s ever been.

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#enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst #enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines #enhypen au #sunghoon au #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon fanfiction

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