#jungwon x reader imagines | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

021894s · 3 months ago

Text

TANGLED DESIRES- p.sh

PAIRING: enemy!sunghoon x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: At a prestigious private school, you and Park Sunghoon are locked in a constant rivalry. During a party at your friend Karina’s, a heated argument between you two escalates into an unexpected, passionate encounter. The next morning, you wake up in his arms, forcing both of you to confront the new, complicated tension between you. As you navigate the fallout and shifting feelings, you start to question if your biggest enemy might actually be something much more.

GENRE: enemies to lovers, rich kids au

WARNINGS: smut (unprotected sex, oral sex) rivalry, hurt feelings, angst. ALL ARE OF AGE

wc: 15.4k

You attend the most prestigious school in Korea, where the sky-high tuition fees are only accessible to those born into pure wealth. This elite institution is a playground for the richest families, and your name is synonymous with success. Your family, being the owners of one of Korea’s top corporations, you seem to have everything at your fingertips—a glamorous life of luxury, an enviable social circle, and endless opportunities.

To the outside world, you’re the quintessential rich girl: impeccably stylish, effortlessly popular, and seemingly flawless. Yet beneath this polished veneer lies a different reality. Despite your privileged upbringing, you’re kind-hearted, fiercely intelligent, and deeply dedicated to everything you do. Your friend group, including Jake, Jay, Heeseung, Sunoo, Niki, Jungwon, Yuna, and Karina, forms a close-knit circle that navigates the pressures of their world together.

But there’s always been one glaring exception: Park Sunghoon. The feud between the two of you is infamous, an unspoken tension that pulses beneath the surface of your otherwise harmonious friendships. No one really knows how it started, and no one seems to care enough to unravel it. Instead, everyone just tolerates your constant bickering.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The lunch table is alive with conversation, the usual chatter amplified by the excitement of the latest gossip. Karina sits comfortably beside Heeseung, leaning into him with an easy confidence that only she can pull off. She’s in the middle of talking about her parents’ latest venture—something about opening another resort somewhere exotic—when she casually drops the bomb.

“So, they’re gone for the whole weekend,” she says, her voice loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. “And you know what that means…”

Jake perks up immediately, his eyes bright. “Party?”

Karina grins. “Obviously. Saturday night, my place. No theme this time, just show up and bring your best energy.”

Yuna claps her hands in excitement. “Finally! It’s been forever since the last one. I was starting to forget what a real party looks like.”

Jay laughs. “As if you’d ever forget. You practically live for these things.”

Yuna sticks her tongue out at him, but her smile doesn’t waver. “Guilty as charged.”

Heeseung wraps an arm around Karina’s shoulders, looking amused. “You’re not worried about your parents finding out?”

She rolls her eyes. “Please, they won’t even notice. And even if they do, what’s the worst that could happen? They’ll just buy me something to make up for being gone.”

“Must be nice,” Niki mutters, leaning back in his chair.

Sunoo nudges him with a grin. “Oh, come on, don’t act like you’re not excited. You were the first one to ask about the music last time.”

Niki shrugs, but he can’t hide his smile. “Yeah, well, only if it’s not Sunghoon’s terrible playlist again.”

You glance across the table, catching Sunghoon’s eye. He’s lounging back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “My playlist was fine, thank you very much,” he retorts. “It’s not my fault you have no taste.”

You snort. “Please, Sunghoon, your taste in music is as bad as your taste in everything else.”

He looks over at you, eyebrow raised. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug, feigning innocence. “Nothing, just that your definition of ‘good’ is highly questionable.”

He chuckles, the sound low and irritatingly smug. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Karina cuts in, sensing the rising tension. “Alright, let’s not turn this into another one of your little spats. Save it for the party, okay?”

Sunghoon smirks, still looking at you. “Looking forward to it already.”

You roll your eyes but can’t resist shooting back, “Don’t get too excited, I might just ignore you all night.”

“Oh, the horror,” he replies, his voice dripping with mock terror. “How will I ever survive?”

Jay laughs, nudging Jake. “You know, one day they might actually get along.”

Jake shakes his head, grinning. “Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

Karina steers the conversation back to the party details, running through a list of essentials while Heeseung nods along, offering suggestions. “Invite whoever you want,” she says, “oh except luci, last time I caught her giving mark head in my parents bedroom, I haven’t been able to go in there since.”

You laugh and nod in agreement, trying not to notice how Sunghoon is still watching you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you wonder what’s going through his head, but then you push the thought away. Whatever it is, it’s probably nothing you need to worry about.

Karina claps her hands, bringing the attention back to her. “So, everyone’s in?”

There’s a chorus of agreement, and the table erupts into a mix of laughter and excited chatter as plans start to form. You glance over at Sunghoon one more time, catching his eye for a brief second before looking away. This party is already shaping up to be interesting… and you have a feeling that’s an understatement.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The lunch buzz still lingers in your ears as the group makes its way back across the pristine campus grounds. The sunlight reflects off the sleek, modern architecture of the school’s main building, and you can’t help but admire the way everything here seems to sparkle—like even the bricks and mortar are aware of the school's prestige.

You find yourself walking beside Karina, who’s still chatting excitedly about the party, while Heeseung stays close, throwing in a comment or two. Yuna and Sunoo are a few steps ahead, their heads bent together as they giggle over something on Sunoo’s phone. You catch Jake and Jay trailing behind, still debating something about sports cars or the best summer destinations.

Just as you’re about to reach the entrance, you feel a presence beside you. You don’t need to turn your head to know who it is; Sunghoon always manages to sidle up to you when you least expect it.

“What, are you following me now?” you ask, not breaking your stride.

He chuckles. “Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself. It just so happens our lockers are in the same direction.”

“Right,” you drawl, rolling your eyes. “Like you don’t go out of your way to annoy me.”

He glances at you, smirk still firmly in place. “Maybe I just like seeing you get all riled up. It’s entertaining.”

You shoot him a glare, but before you can fire back a retort, the group reaches the main hallway. The chatter from the student body fills the air, a mix of excitement and post-lunch drowsiness. The smell of expensive cologne and designer perfumes lingers in the air, an unmistakable signature of the school’s elite.

Karina stops at her locker, Heeseung leaning against it with a casual arm draped over her shoulder. She turns to you, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “So, you’re coming early on Saturday, right? I need a hand setting things up.”

You nod, grateful for the distraction from Sunghoon. “Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Great!” She beams. “And maybe you can help me make sure everything stays under control. You know how things can get with this crowd.”

Heeseung laughs softly. “Good luck with that. I don’t think anyone’s ever managed to keep Sunoo and Niki under control for more than five minutes.”

As if on cue, Sunoo pops up beside you with a grin. “I heard that, Heeseung! I’m an angel, thank you very much.”

Niki appears at his side, raising an eyebrow. “An angel of chaos, maybe.”

The group laughs, and you feel the tension in your shoulders ease. It’s moments like these that make all the bickering and drama feel worth it.

But then, just as you’re about to make another comment, Sunghoon’s voice cuts through the noise. “So, Y/N,” he says casually, “what are you going to wear to the party? Let me guess… something that screams ‘trying too hard’?”

You whip your head around, narrowing your eyes at him. “And what are you planning on wearing, Sunghoon? Something that screams ‘I own everything but a personality’?”

There’s a collective gasp from your friends, followed by a chorus of laughter. Sunghoon raises his eyebrows, feigning a look of hurt. “Ouch, that one actually stung a little. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

You cross your arms, feeling a triumphant smile tug at your lips. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Try me.”

He leans in slightly, lowering his voice just enough that only you can hear. “Maybe I will,” he says, his eyes flicking over you in a way that makes your pulse quicken. “But you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to get under my skin.”

You’re about to retort when a voice interrupts. “Can we get through one day without you two turning everything into a competition?” Jay sighs, looking exasperated. “Seriously, it’s exhausting just watching you.”

Jake nods in agreement, though he’s grinning. “You guys need to find a new hobby. Preferably one that doesn’t involve verbal sparring in the middle of the hallway.”

You shrug, unable to resist the urge to keep poking at Sunghoon. “I’m open to suggestions, but I doubt Sunghoon has any better ideas.”

Sunghoon leans back, crossing his arms with a playful smile. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of ideas. But I think you’d be too scared to try them.”

Before you can respond, the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. Karina groans. “Ugh, saved by the bell. I guess we’ll have to pick this up later.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

As everyone starts to disperse to their respective classes, Sunghoon gives you one last look, a challenge in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he says smoothly. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is beating just a little faster. You can’t help but wonder what exactly he’s planning… and why a part of you is actually looking forward to finding out.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The day of the party arrives with a crisp, clear sky and a hint of excitement that seems to permeate every corner of the city. You wake up early, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. Karina had texted you the night before, reminding you to come over in the afternoon to help set up for the party. You agreed eagerly, knowing that any opportunity to help would give you something to focus on and take your mind off the strange tension building between you and Sunghoon.

When you arrive at Karina’s mansion, the house is buzzing with activity. Karina’s housekeeper greets you at the door with a warm smile, directing you to the large, open-plan living area where Karina is already busy coordinating the decorations with a small army of helpers. The space is being transformed into a glamorous party venue with twinkling lights, elegant table settings, and a dance floor that looks like it’s straight out of a high-end club.

Karina spots you as soon as you walk in, her face lighting up with relief and excitement. “Y/N! Perfect timing. I’m so glad you’re here. We could use an extra pair of hands.”

You smile, rolling up your sleeves. “What can I do to help?”

Karina hands you a stack of neatly folded napkins and points towards a table covered with party favors. “Start by setting these up on the tables. I want everything to look perfect tonight.”

You get to work, organizing napkins and arranging snack trays, chatting with Karina about the last-minute details. The hours fly by as you work alongside her, the room gradually coming together into a setting that is unmistakably Karina’s style—classy, sophisticated, and just a bit over the top.

As the afternoon drifts into evening, Karina claps her hands and gathers you for a brief break. “Alright, it’s time for a quick change. You’ve been working so hard, and I want you to look as fabulous as the rest of the evening.”

You raise an eyebrow, half-teasing. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Karina waves her hand dismissively. “you don’t want me to answer that. cmon you’re hot, why not show off a little?”

Before you can protest, Karina ushers you into her bedroom and pulls out a sleek, little black dress from her closet. The dress is short and simple with a cut that accentuates your figure without being too revealing.

“Put this on,” Karina insists, handing you the dress. “Trust me, you’ll look amazing. And don’t worry about the hair and makeup; I’ve got that covered too.”

You change quickly, admiring the way the dress fits and the way it makes you feel more confident and glamorous. When you step out of the room, Karina is waiting with a professional-looking makeup kit and a few hair tools.

As she works on your hair and makeup, she chatters away, filling the room with her usual upbeat energy. “you look sexy”

You smile at her reflection in the mirror. “Thanks, Karina. You don’t think it’s a bit much? It’s definitely more out there than I usually go for”.

Karina beams, finishing up with a final touch of lipstick. “babe there’s no such thing as too much. And who knows, maybe you’ll catch someone eye tonight,” she tells you with a wink.

With a laugh and a final look at yourself in the mirror, you feel a surge of excitement. The dress feels perfect, and the makeup and hair make you look polished and ready for the night. As you head back downstairs, you catch sight of Karina’s smile of approval, and you can’t help but feel a bit more confident about the evening ahead.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The music starts pumping through the walls as you and Karina make your way back downstairs. The final touches have been set, and the room looks like a scene straight out of a teen movie: fairy lights strung up in every corner, a couple of disco balls catching the light just right, and a dance floor that practically begs people to let loose. Karina surveys everything with a grin that stretches from ear to ear.

“See?” she says, nudging you with her elbow. “This is why I always go all out.”

You chuckle, glancing around. “Okay, okay, you were right. This does look kind of amazing.”

The doorbell rings, and Karina practically bounces on her toes. “That must be the first guests! Come on, we have to greet everyone in style.”

The two of you rush to the front door, and soon enough, your friends start streaming in. Sunoo is the first to arrive, with Niki and Jungwon right behind him. They all look ready to have the best night ever, and Sunoo immediately zeroes in on you, his eyes going wide.

“Oh. My. God. Y/N!” Sunoo exclaims dramatically, clutching his chest. “Look at you in that little black dress! Who is she?!”

You roll your eyes, fighting back a grin. “Alright, Sunoo, calm down. It’s just a dress.”

“It’s not just a dress,” Niki interjects with a grin. “It’s the dress. Who are you trying to impress tonight?”

Jungwon nudges Niki. “Yeah, spill. Is there someone you’re hoping to catch the eye of?”

You smirk, crossing your arms. “Oh, please, like I’d tell you guys even if there was.”

More of your friends arrive, and soon the room is buzzing with chatter and laughter. Jake and Jay show up not long after, both of them effortlessly cool as always. Jay immediately gets to work DJ-ing from his phone, while Jake heads to the makeshift bar, already concocting a round of mixed drinks.

Then, just as you start to relax, you see him—Park Sunghoon. He steps in, looking annoyingly good in a casual black button-down and jeans. His eyes scan the room until they find you. For a split second, he looks almost surprised, but then his trademark smirk appears.

“Well, well,” Sunghoon says as he strolls over to you, hands casually shoved into his pockets. “Look who decided to play dress-up. You got a hot date tonight or something?”

You scoff, giving him a look. “Oh, please, Sunghoon. Unlike you, I don’t have to try so hard to impress everyone.”

Sunghoon chuckles, leaning in just slightly. “Right. Because you just show up looking like that for fun?”

Before you can shoot back a retort, Karina swoops in, looping her arm through yours. “Hey, Sunghoon, quit being a troll. Y/N looks amazing, and you know it. Now go get a drink and try to be nice for once!”

He holds up his hands, his grin widening. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave... for now.”

You watch as he saunters off to join Jake at the bar, and Karina gives you a knowing look. “Don’t let him get under your skin tonight, okay?”

You nod, trying to brush it off, even though you’re still buzzing from his teasing. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The party is in full swing now—music thumping, people laughing, and the lights twinkling overhead like stars. You find yourself swept up in the fun, moving from one conversation to the next, the earlier tension with Sunghoon momentarily forgotten. You’re by the snack table, popping a few chips into your mouth when Haechan sidles up next to you with his signature grin.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says smoothly, leaning in a little closer than necessary. “Looking good tonight. That dress is seriously working for you.”

You smile at him, amused by his blatant flirting. “Thanks, Haechan. You’re not looking too bad yourself,” you reply, playing along. He’s always been a harmless flirt, and you don’t mind the attention tonight.

He grins wider, clearly pleased. “I try. But seriously, I can’t believe I’m just now noticing how stunning you are. Were you hiding this whole time or just waiting for the perfect moment to make your grand entrance?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, you know me. Always dramatic,” you joke, and he chuckles, leaning in a bit more.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/N. Makes me want to know you better,” he says, his voice dropping slightly, and you can’t help but laugh at his over-the-top delivery.

What you don’t notice is that from across the room, Sunghoon has been watching the entire interaction with a growing frown. He’s leaning against a wall, a drink in hand, his eyes narrowing as he watches Haechan lean closer to you, flashing that charming smile. His jaw tightens, and his grip on the cup becomes visibly tighter.

Heeseung, who’s been standing beside him, follows his line of sight and notices the tense look on his friend’s face. A knowing grin spreads across Heeseung’s lips as he leans over to Sunghoon, nudging him with his elbow.

“Someone looks like they’ve got their feathers ruffled,” Heeseung teases, keeping his voice low so only Sunghoon can hear.

Sunghoon scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Sure,” Heeseung laughs. “That’s why you’ve been glaring at Haechan like you’re ready to knock that grin off his face.”

Sunghoon doesn’t respond right away, but his eyes remain fixed on you and Haechan. Heeseung watches with amusement, clearly enjoying the show.

“Just admit it, man,” Heeseung continues, his tone light. “You’re jealous.”

Sunghoon finally looks away from you, giving Heeseung a dismissive look. “I’m not jealous. I just don’t like seeing him act like a fool.”

Heeseung snorts. “Right. Because you’re so worried about Haechan embarrassing himself.” He claps a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Come on, dude, just go talk to her. Or are you afraid she’ll turn you down?”

Sunghoon shoots him a glare. “Shut up, Heeseung.”

Heeseung just laughs harder, clearly unbothered by Sunghoon’s mood. “Alright, whatever you say. But just so you know, glaring at Haechan isn’t going to do anything except make you look more obvious.”

Sunghoon doesn’t answer, but Heeseung’s words seem to hit a nerve. He turns his attention back to you, his expression unreadable, though there’s still a flicker of something in his eyes—something more than just casual interest.

Meanwhile, you’re still chatting with Haechan, completely unaware of the little drama unfolding across the room. But you can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching you, and when you finally glance up, your eyes meet Sunghoon’s for just a second. He quickly looks away, and you can’t help but wonder what that was all about.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The party continues to buzz around you, but after a while, the noise and energy start to feel a bit overwhelming. You decide you need a break, a moment to yourself away from the chaos. Without saying anything, you slip out of the crowded living room and head toward the balcony, where the air is cooler and the music is just a muffled hum in the background.

You push open the glass doors and step outside, letting the crisp night air hit your face. It’s a welcome change from the warmth inside. You lean against the railing, taking a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. The stars are faint above the city lights, and you can hear distant sounds of traffic, a reminder of the world continuing outside this little bubble of a party.

You close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the quiet. But then, you hear the soft sound of footsteps behind you. You turn, half-expecting to see Karina or maybe Sunoo, but your heart skips a beat when you see Sunghoon stepping out onto the balcony.

“What do you want, Sunghoon?” you sigh, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

“I could ask you the same thing” he replies, his voice closer than you expected. You feel the warmth of his body behind you, jus inches away. “Running away from the party?”

”Hardly.” You glance over your shoulder at him. “Just needed a break from all the fakes and liars inside.”

His lips curl into that familiar, infuriating smirk. “And here I thought you thrived on that type of thing. Who knew Y/N had limits?”

You roll tour eyes, turning back to the view. “Yeah, well, believe it or not I do. But you wouldn’t know anything, would you?”

Sunghoon steps closer, his breath brushing against your ear, sending an unwanted shiver down your spine. You feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks and something else you refuse to acknowledge. “You don’t know anything about me, Sunghoon. And id keep it that way if I were you.”

He laughs, a deep, rich sound that makes your skin prickle. “I think you like it when I get under your skin. Why else do you always react like this?” You scoff, turning to face him, only then realizing how close he actually was. “Maybe i’m just tired of you acting like you’re gods gift to the world. newsflash: you’re not.”

His grin widens, and he takes another step closer, invading you’re space entirely as if he wasn’t already to begin with. “Admit it.” he says, his voice dropping lower. “You like our little games. You like the way I push your buttons.”

Your heart is pounding now, and you hate that he’s right, that there’s something about him that gets to you in a way no one else does.But you refuse to five him the satisfaction of knowing it. “In your dreams,” you snap, though the breathlessness in your voice betrays you.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm, and you feel a jolt of heat at the contact. “Is that so?” he whispers, his lips dangerously close to yours now, his eyes dark with challenge. “Because I think you’re lying. I think you want this as much as I do.”

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you’re frozen, caught in his gaze. The intensity in his eyes makes your pulse race, a mix of anger and undeniable attraction. He’s so close now that you can feel his breath your lips, and before you can stop yourself, you grab his shirt, pulling him the last few inches towards you.

“Maybe I just want to shut you up,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper. “Then do it,” he taunts, his lips brushing against yours, almost but not quite a kiss. It’s all the encouragement you need. You close the distance, your mouth crashing against his. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you press against him, fueled by a mix of anger and desire.

The kiss is intense, a battle of wills as much as it is anything else. His lips are firm, demanding, and you meet him with equal force, neither of you willing to give an inch. Your hands move up to his hair, tugging slightly and he groans against your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You’re lost in it. Lost in him, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. His hands slide up your back, his touch sending sparks through you, and you hate how much you crave it, hate how much you want him despite everything.

You’re breathless when you finally pull back, your heart hammering against your ribs. Sunghoon’s lips are parted, his breaths coming in ragged, and his eyes are dark with something dangerous—something you know you shouldn’t be entertaining.

His hand is still on your waist, his thumb brushing the exposed skin just beneath the hem of your shirt, and you swear every nerve in your body is on fire. He leans in close, his lips grazing your ear, and his voice comes out in a low, almost pleading murmur. “Come back to my place.”

It isn’t a question, but there’s something in his tone that sends a shiver down your spine, a combination of hunger and desperation that mirrors what’s coursing through your veins. For a moment, you’re tempted—so, so tempted to just say yes and give in to whatever this is. But logic fights its way to the surface, and you pull back just enough to meet his gaze.

“Are you serious?” you ask, your voice wavering more than you’d like.

His expression doesn’t falter, his eyes locked onto yours. “Dead serious.” He swallows, his grip on your waist tightening, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “I don’t want this to end here.”

You hesitate, your mind racing. This is Sunghoon—Park Sunghoon—the guy you’ve spent so long arguing with, glaring at across rooms, doing everything in your power to avoid. But there’s something different about the way he’s looking at you now, something raw and real that makes it hard to think clearly.

“I don’t know,” you say, trying to sound firm, though your resolve is crumbling by the second. “I mean… this is crazy.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, his voice still low, still laced with that edge of desperation. “But I think you like crazy.” His lips curl into a half-smile, that familiar cockiness tempered with something else, something softer.

You bite your lip, weighing your options, feeling the tension between you both—hot, magnetic, impossible to ignore. “This is a bad idea,” you whisper, though even you can hear the lack of conviction in your words.

Sunghoon steps closer, closing the distance again, his forehead almost touching yours. “Probably the worst,” he says, his breath hot against your skin. “But if you don’t say yes, I’m going to lose my mind.”

You can feel his heartbeat through his shirt, can feel how fast it’s racing, and you know he means it. Part of you is screaming to walk away, to leave now before you make a mistake, but there’s another part—a louder, more reckless part—that’s screaming for you to stay, to see where this goes.

“Just one night,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours again, barely a kiss, just enough to make you shiver. “No strings, no expectations. Just… us.”

You close your eyes, fighting against every instinct telling you to run. But when you open them again, his gaze is still locked onto yours, and you can’t deny the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your skin tingles with every touch.

“Fine,” you breathe, barely louder than a whisper. “One night.”

His grin is immediate, but there’s relief in it too, and he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours again, this time harder, more insistent. “Let’s get out of here,” he says against your mouth, his hand sliding to intertwine with yours, and you know there’s no going back now.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You manage to sneak past your friends to leave Karina’s mansion, the partygoers and scattered distractions making it all that more simple.

The drive is quiet, both of you caught in your own thoughts. The city passes by in a blur of neon signs and headlights, the streets quieter than they were earlier. You steal a glance at him, watching the way his jaw clenches, the way his fingers tap against the wheel like he’s counting down the seconds.

Sunghoon pulls up to his mansion, its sprawling, modern architecture framed by towering trees and high walls that ensure absolute privacy. The wide driveway curves up to the grand entrance, where soft lights cast a warm glow over the marble steps and tall double doors. You glance around, taking in the sheer size of the place—not because it surprises you, but because you’ve never been here before.

Your own family’s estate is nothing to scoff at, but there’s a distinct style to his home—something sleek and almost understated, despite its size. You tilt your head slightly, noticing the details: the way the garden is meticulously maintained, the sharp lines of the building softened by the greenery that surrounds it. It’s impressive, in a way that’s different from what you’re used to.

He takes your hand to lead you inside, you follow him down the dimly lit corridor, decorated with family pictures and modern art that costs a fortune. He pauses at his bedroom door, his hand still holding yours, and turns to look at you one more time. “Last chance to change your mind,” he murmurs, though his thumb strokes the back of your hand, a comforting gesture.

You take a deep breath, then shake your head. “I’m not changing my mind.”

A small smile tugs at his lips. “Good,” he whispers, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

You step inside, and he follows, closing the door behind you. The space is dimly lit, warm, and there’s an unexpected coziness to it—minimalistic but comfortable. The air feels thick with everything unspoken between you.

Sunghoon turns to you, his gaze intense, and he steps closer, his hand moving up to your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he admits quietly, his voice almost a growl.

Your breath catches, and you feel the heat rush to your face. “Then stop talking,” you murmur, your own voice breathless.

His lips are on yours in an instant, capturing your mouth in a kiss that’s all-consuming, filled with all the tension, the want, the frustration that’s been building for so long. You kiss him back just as fiercely, hands sliding up his chest, feeling his heartbeat pounding beneath your palms.

Sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, squeezing your tits. You let out a small involuntary moan, a grunt leaving him immediately after. His lips move down to your next, trailing up and down before reaching that sweet spot right behind your ear.

It all feels to fucking good, your panties sticking to your core. He moves to sit on the edge of his bed, pulling you into his lap before catching your lips once again. His growing hardness is poking at you. “You look so fucking sexy in this little dress,” He tells you in a low tone that makes you clench around nothing, the ache between your legs growing. You start grinding on him, his hands grabbing your ass, encouraging you to keep grinding against his clothed length. “That’s it baby, grind on me, keep rubbing that pretty pussy over my cock.”

Your head is thrown back, lip in between your teeth, his words encouraging your quickening movements. “Need you so bad, Hoon,” you manage to get out.

“Yeah baby? tell me what you need.” He tells you. It’s almost embarrassing how much you wanted him. “Need your cock.” Without another word you feel his hands back on your ass, lifting you up and throwing you down on his bed. He looks up at you with mischievious eyes, hovering over you as his hands roam down the sides of your thighs to them hem of your dress. “Can i take this off?” he asks, caressing the soft, exposed skin there.

Eagerly, you nod quickly, reaching for the hem to help him pull it up and over your head. Luckily you opted for a pair of black lacy panties and opposed to your more comfortable ones. He audibly sighs and your exposed figure, “You’re so beautiful,” He tells you, his fingers working to slide your panties down your legs and tossing them to the side, revealing just how much you wanted him.

“Shit baby you’re so wet.” He leans down, placing soft, wet kisses just below your navel, dangerously close to where you wanted him most. “Hoon please,” you murmur out. He straightens out, unbuckling his belt to pull down his pants and boxers all in one go. While he wasn’t remarkably long, he made up for it in girth. You lick your lips at the sight, anticipation and heat pooling.

He pumps himself a couple times before he’s lining himself up with your entrance. He takes his time, making sure to smear your slick between your clit and his length. You feel his tip parting your folds, your breath hitching in your throat. “You ready?” his eyes meet yours for assurance. No words come out your mouth, all you do is nod.

He enters you carefully, a strong contrast from his words earlier in the night. The last thing he wants is to rush, just because of how unpatient and horny he is. You close your eyes, holding in the gasp that threatens to escape your lips. “Relax baby, I got you.”

“I know,” you breathe out. The sudden stretch has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. The burn quickly turning into a delicious one. “That’s it,” he praises you continuing to slide in until he’s nestled completely between your walls. “You take me so well,” he grunts, his length twitching inside of you.

“Fuck me, Hoon” you murmur, your walls clench around him, throwing his head back at the feeling. Before you know it he’s pulling out of you, only to smack his hips back against yours. It knocks all the oxygen out your lungs, leaving you breathless as he repeats the same action over and over again. “Fuck,” you breathe out, focusing on how good he looks above you.

You’re in a complete feeling of euphoria. Sunghoon’s skills topping those of the few guys you’ve slept with before. In that moment, all the bickering and years of back and forth leave your mind completely. The only thing closing your mind is how good him of all people is making you feel.

“Hoon… faster,” you let out, his hips snapping in a faster pace on command. Your back arches off the bed, hands grasping the sheets in small fists. He notices and reaches for them to thread his fingers through yours, pinning them above your head. “You like that baby? love how good you feel… fuck you’re so tight. Gonna make you cum so hard.”

“I’m so c-close, fuck,” you breathe out. His thrusts become messier and you know he’s close. “Cum on my cock pretty,” he grunts, hands letting go of yours to grip your hips. Clenching around him, it takes a few for pumps before you’re both coming undone. His cock twitching inside you as he fucks his cum into you.

He drops his sweaty forehead against your shoulder, quick, deep breaths meeting your skin and he comes down from his high. It takes you both a while before your breathing steadys. “You good?,” he asks you, settling on the bed beside you. “mhm,” is all you say in response, unsure as to where this leaves your relationship. It all felt to good to ignore. “Are you good?” you ask him after a moment of silence. “Better than I have in a long time.”

You’re not sure when you fall asleep. The exhaustion taking over you all at once.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The morning light filters softly through the heavy curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. You wake to the sound of birds chirping outside, their songs a peaceful contrast to the intensity of the night before. The bed is warm, and you’re nestled comfortably under the covers, Sunghoon’s arm draped over you.

You shift slightly, the movement causing Sunghoon to stir beside you. He mumbles something incoherent, tightening his hold on you before settling back into a deeper sleep. You take a moment to just lie there, letting yourself absorb the strange, surreal comfort of the situation. There’s an odd serenity in the room, a calm that feels almost unreal given the whirlwind of emotions that led you here.

As you slowly become more aware, you gently untangle yourself from his embrace, careful not to wake him. You sit up and stretch, glancing around at the elegant room that’s now your temporary sanctuary. The soft morning light highlights the sleek lines and modern decor, giving the space an almost ethereal quality.

You slide out of bed and make your way to the bathroom, feeling a little self-conscious but determined to gather yourself. You glance at yourself in the mirror, trying to process the whirlwind of the past night. The evidence of sleep lingers in your eyes, and you smooth your hair, mentally preparing yourself for whatever comes next.

When you return to the bedroom, Sunghoon is still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You take a moment to just watch him, the vulnerability in his expression softened by sleep. There’s a part of you that feels a pang of something—softness, maybe even affection—though you’re still trying to fully understand what it all means.

Deciding not to linger too long, you quietly gather your things and start to get dressed. You’re pulling on your clothes when you hear a rustling behind you. You turn to find Sunghoon blinking awake, his gaze immediately locking on you with a sleepy, yet intense look.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

You smile softly, trying to keep things light despite the previous night's intensity. “Morning. I didn’t want to wake you.”

He stretches lazily, a smirk forming on his lips. “And here I was thinking you’d sneak out before I even woke up. Not very considerate of you, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was supposed to tiptoe around your mansion.”

He chuckles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah, well, you should be lucky you’re not being kicked out for your unexpected visit.”

You roll your eyes, pulling on your shirt. “Oh, please. It’s not like I forced my way in. You made it pretty clear you wanted me here.”

His smirk widens. “True. And now I’m faced with the charming aftermath of our little escapade. How do you intend to handle that?”

You shrug, trying to keep your tone casual. “I think we both know this doesn’t exactly change things. We still don’t like each other. This was… a one-off.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “A one-off? That’s what we’re calling it now? What happened to all that intense ‘hate’ from last night?”

You narrow your eyes at him, feeling a bit defensive. “It’s complicated. We both know that. I’m just here to sort myself out.”

He stands up, stretching with a yawn. “Well, I suppose if you’re done with the morning-after drama, I should at least make you breakfast.”

You look at him skeptically. “Breakfast? You’re really pulling out the stops now?”

He gives you a mockingly hurt look. “Don’t sound so surprised. Even enemies deserve to be fed after a night like that.”

You smirk, shaking your head. “Fine. Breakfast it is. But don’t think this means I’m sticking around for a whole lot of chit-chat.”

He grins, clearly pleased with your response. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Just a quick meal and then you can be on your way.”

As he leads you to the kitchen, you both fall into a familiar rhythm, trading barbs and jabs that feel almost comfortable in their own way. The awkwardness of the night before is still there, but it’s tempered by the humor and banter that defines your relationship.

In the kitchen, Sunghoon starts pulling out ingredients, his movements confident and efficient. You watch him, feeling a strange mix of irritation and appreciation. Despite everything, there’s something almost endearing about the way he’s trying to play the gracious host.

“So, what’s the plan after breakfast?” you ask, grabbing a coffee cup and filling it. “Are we going to pretend like nothing happened, or do you have some other grand gesture in mind?”

He looks over at you with a smirk. “Maybe I’ll just enjoy the novelty of seeing you eat my food. Consider it a small victory.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a genuine smile on your lips. “Enjoy it while it lasts. I’m not here for long.”

He chuckles, placing a plate of food in front of you. “Don’t worry, I won’t be offended if you leave right after. I’m sure we’ll find new ways to annoy each other soon enough.”

You take a bite of the breakfast, shaking your head in mock exasperation. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As you eat, the tension from the night before begins to ease, replaced by the familiar dynamic of your interactions. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s familiar—a small reminder that despite everything, some things never really change.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The bell rings, signaling the end of the period, you gather your things and stand up, eager to leave the classroom and escape the strange tension that’s been hanging between you and Sunghoon all day. You’re heading toward the door when you feel a light tap on your shoulder. You turn around to find Sunghoon standing close, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Can I help you?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Sunghoon leans in, his face just inches from yours. His breath is warm against your ear, and you can feel his proximity even though you try to back away slightly. “You look cute today,” he whispers, his voice low and deliberately teasing.

You freeze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as his words sink in. You’re taken aback by the unexpected comment, feeling a rush of irritation mixed with something you can’t quite define. You quickly compose yourself, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Seriously?” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low so that no one else hears. “Now you’re trying to play nice? How pathetic.”

Sunghoon pulls back slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m just making an observation,” he says innocently, though the amusement in his eyes betrays him.

You roll your eyes, your frustration evident. “Yeah, well, save it for someone who actually cares. I’m not in the mood for your games.”

As you turn and walk toward the door, you hear Sunghoon’s laughter behind you, light and mocking. You try to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks as you make your way out of the classroom, determined not to let him get under your skin. Despite your efforts to stay composed, his words linger in your mind, adding to the awkwardness and confusion of the day.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Lunch at school is a lively affair, with the cafeteria buzzing with the chatter of students and the clatter of trays. You and your friends—Yuna, Karina, and the rest—settle into your usual spot at the table. Sunghoon and his group are seated across from you, and you can feel his gaze lingering on you, even as you try to focus on the conversation with your friends.

Karina is mid-sentence, animatedly discussing the latest school gossip when Sunghoon's voice cuts through. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can't actually believe that nonsense.”

You glance up, catching Sunghoon’s eyes. He’s smirking, clearly enjoying the opportunity to poke at you. “And what’s so ridiculous about it?” you retort, trying to keep your voice steady despite the irritation brewing inside you.

“Seriously?” Sunghoon’s grin widens. “It’s just a bunch of exaggerated stories. You’ve always had a knack for falling for that kind of thing.”

You roll your eyes, feeling a familiar annoyance bubbling up. “Says the guy who’s always spouting off about how everything’s ‘not worth his time.’”

Sunghoon leans back in his chair, folding his arms. “At least I don’t get caught up in every little bit of drama that comes my way.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “I’m not the one who spends half his day looking for ways to pick fights. Maybe if you weren’t so obsessed with making everything a competition, you’d see things more clearly.”

Yuna and Karina exchange glances, trying to stifle their laughter as the two of you go back and forth. Karina nudges you playfully. “Looks like you two are back to your old routine.”

You shoot her a sidelong glance, annoyed but unable to hide a small smile. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Meanwhile, Sunghoon’s eyes are fixed on you, his smirk never fading. Every time you catch him looking, you feel a mix of frustration and unease. His gaze is unrelenting, and despite your best efforts to ignore it, you can’t help but feel self-conscious.

“What are you staring at?” you snap, catching him in the act.

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, his expression innocent. “Just observing. Is that a problem?”

You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms. “Maybe if you had something better to do than harass me, you wouldn’t have to be so nosy.”

He chuckles, leaning forward with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Maybe I just enjoy watching you get all riled up. It’s entertaining.”

You glare at him, feeling your irritation spike. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly a compliment.”

Sunghoon shrugs, still smirking. “Suit yourself.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

After lunch, you head to your next class with a sense of relief, hoping to escape the tension of the cafeteria. As you settle into your seat, the classroom buzzes with the usual pre-class chatter. You glance around, hoping to avoid any more interactions with Sunghoon, but he’s in the same class, sitting a few rows behind you.

The teacher arrives, and the room quiets down as the lesson begins. You try to focus on the lecture, but the lingering effects of the lunchtime bickering keep your thoughts scattered. Every now and then, you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes on you, though you avoid turning around to confirm it.

Halfway through the class, you feel a small piece of paper land softly on your desk. You glance down to find a note with neat handwriting:

*“Can we at least pretend to be civil? I promise I’m not plotting your demise.”*

You roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. You scribble a quick reply:

“Why start now? It’s more fun to keep you on your toes.”

You fold the note and toss it back over your shoulder, hoping it will reach him without drawing too much attention. A few moments later, you see Sunghoon’s hand reach forward to grab it, his expression unreadable.

The rest of the class proceeds in a blur of lectures and notes. The occasional glances you and Sunghoon exchange are filled with unspoken tension, but you both manage to keep your interactions to a minimum.

At the end of your lecture, you pack up your things and make your way out of the classroom. You’re heading down the hall when you hear Sunghoon’s voice behind you.

“Hey, wait up.”

You stop, turning to see him catching up with you. He’s wearing a casual expression, though there’s a hint of seriousness in his eyes.

“Seriously? What now?” you ask, trying to keep your tone even.

Sunghoon’s gaze lingers on you, and he seems to consider his next words carefully. “So, I was thinking… why don’t you come over to my place later?”

You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. “For what? We already had our… whatever that was.”

Sunghoon gives you a knowing look, his smirk widening. “Come on, you know you’re curious. Besides, you know you want me.”

You feel a rush of heat at his words, and you try to maintain your composure. “And what happened to it being a one-night thing? Are you trying to make this a regular thing now?”

Sunghoon’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I just want to spend more time with you. Either way, I think you’re interested.”

You hesitate, feeling the pull of his words. The desire that was ignited the night before is still burning strong, and you find yourself tempted despite your better judgment.

With a sigh, you give in, unable to resist the allure of what he’s offering. “Alright, fine. I’ll come over. But just to see what you have in mind.” Sunghoon’s smile broadens, clearly pleased with your decision. “Great. see you later.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Later that night, you stand outside Sunghoon’s, house, or rather mansion. With a deep breath, you ring the doorbelll, and a moment later, Sunghoon opens the door. His eyes rake over you, and there’s that cocky familiar smirk on his face. “Youre here,” he says, stepping aside to let you in. There’s no hint of surprise, just a kind of smug statisfaction, like he knew you’d come.

“Yeah,” you reply, stepping inside “so what’s this all about?” Sunghoon doesn’t answer immediately. He just walks past you, heading into the foyer. You follow, your curiosity piqued, but you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker back to you with that same intent look. He turns around suddenly, before you can even process what’s happening, he’s closing the distance between you, leaning in like he’s about to kiss you.

“Woah wait,” you say quickly, pressing a hand against him firm chest to stop him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sunghoon pauses, eyebrows raised, but there’s no real apology in his expression. “What do you think in doing?” he counters, his voice low, almost daring him to challenge you. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. “I didn’t come here just to… you know.”

He smirks, leaning in just enough that you feel the warmth of his breath. “Then why did you come here?”

You hesitate, caught between wanting to play it cool and the undeniable pull you feel toward him. “Maybe I was curious.” Sunghoon chuckles, “You’re here because you want this, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his hand grazing your hip lightly, testing your boundaries.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

His smirk widens. “I know enough.” He leans in again, and this time, his lips brush against your neck, a bold move that sends a jolt of heat through you. You bite your lip, figuring the urge to melt into his touch. “I didn’t say you could—“

“Then stop me,” he challenges, his voice a whisper against your skin. Your mind races every logical thought battling against the desire that’s been simmering between you since the other night. You hate how easily he gets under your skin, how is arrogance is both infuriating and strangely alluring. But instead of pushing him away, you find yourself lingering, testing the r limits just like he is.

“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, half annoyed, half breathless. He pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, his expression smug but hungry. “Yet I don’t see you walking away.”

You hate that he’s right. Instead of anything else, you meet his gaze head on, feeling that dangerous spark between you flicker into something more. “Just shut up and kiss me,” you say, finally giving in, if only to wipe that smug look off his face. And he does—without hesitation, with the kind of intensity that makes your head spin. It’s heated, unrestrained, and nothing like you imagined, and yet somehow it’s exactly what you wanted.

With a frustrated sigh, you put a hand on his chest and push him back a step. “Okay, seriously, what is this?” you demand, trying to keep your tone steady. “We can’t just keep… doing this whenever we feel like it. It’s stupid.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking way too amused for your liking. “Why not? You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

You shoot him a glare. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just… I don’t want this to get messy.”

He smirks, clearly entertained by your struggle. “Messy? You mean you don’t want people to know you like kissing me?”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “I don’t like anything about you, Sunghoon. But if we’re being honest, there’s… something here, and I don’t see it going away anytime soon.”

His grin widens, and you want to slap it right off his face. “So, what? You’re proposing a deal?”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe. Friends with benefits. No strings attached, no drama, no catching feelings.”

Sunghoon chuckles, but there’s an edge to it. “Friends? I don’t think we’re even close to that.”

“Fine,” you snap, annoyed that he’s right. “Enemies with benefits then. Just… an arrangement. To get this out of our systems.”

His gaze darkens, and for a second, you think you see something flicker there, something unreadable. But then he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “And what makes you think I’d agree to that?”

You raise your chin, meeting his challenge head-on. “Because you want this just as much as I do. Maybe more.”

He pauses, his lips curling into a slow, wicked smile. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he says, his voice low. “But here’s the deal: we do this my way. No whining, no complaining, and you definitely don’t get to pretend you don’t want it.”

You scowl, hating how cocky he looks, how certain he is that you’ll cave. “Fine,” you bite back. “But don’t think for a second that this means I like you.”

He laughs, the sound rich and mocking. “Trust me, I’d hate it if you did.”

You feel your blood boil at his arrogance, but there’s a thrill in it too, in the way you both seem to enjoy this game. “Deal,” you snap, holding out your hand.

He takes it, but instead of shaking, he pulls you in closer, his lips just inches from yours. “Just remember,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours, “this doesn’t change anything. I still can’t stand you.”

You smirk, matching his intensity. “Right back at you.”

And before you know it, his lips are crashing against yours again, and all that frustration and anger blurs into something reckless and wild. For now, you’ll play his game, but you know this is far from over.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Over the next few weeks, the “arrangement” with Sunghoon becomes a twisted game of secrecy and tension. You find yourself sneaking glances in class, meeting him in darkened hallways between periods, and exchanging heated looks across crowded lunch tables. The two of you are constantly dancing on the edge of discovery, and it’s becoming harder to hide the intensity simmering between you.

It starts small. The accidental brush of fingers when passing by in the hallway, the way his eyes linger a little too long when you’re speaking. But then, it escalates. The stolen moments between classes turn into late-night texts and spontaneous meetings wherever you can find some privacy. Empty classrooms, deserted stairwells, even the back of the library—places where no one would think to find the two of you together. The more time passes, the harder it gets to keep up the charade.

You’re starting to notice the way his friends glance between you two, confused by the sudden silences or the shared looks you forget to hide. Jay catches you one morning when you’re walking out of the library with Sunghoon following a few steps behind, your hair slightly mussed, your lips redder than usual.

“What’s going on there?” he asks, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “You and Sunghoon plotting world domination or something?”

You laugh it off, rolling your eyes. “Please. He’s too much of an idiot for that.”

But Jay looks unconvinced, his gaze flicking back to where Sunghoon is standing, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching you with a smirk that’s all too knowing. “Sure,” Jay says, dragging out the word like he’s not buying it.

At lunch, it’s even worse. Sunghoon sits across from you, his foot nudging yours under the table. It’s subtle, but it’s enough to send a jolt up your spine. You kick him back, hard, and he just chuckles, leaning back in his chair like he’s thoroughly enjoying the game.

“What are you two whispering about?” Yuna asks, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. You’re both quick to cover it up, but it’s obvious that your friends are starting to catch on.

“Nothing,” Sunghoon says smoothly, his voice annoyingly casual. “Just telling Y/N that she looks like she needs more sleep. Those dark circles are really showing.”

Your jaw clenches, but you force a sweet smile, playing along. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll sleep just fine once I stop seeing your face every day.”

He grins, but there’s a flicker of something more heated in his eyes, something you recognize all too well. “Yeah, right.”

Karina frowns, sensing the tension that seems to hang in the air whenever you two are in the same room. “Seriously, what is up with you guys?” she asks, tilting her head.

You wave it off, laughing a little too loudly. “We’re just being our usual selves. You know how it is—can’t stand each other.”

But your friends are starting to notice the little things. The way Sunghoon’s gaze always seems to drift in your direction, the way you keep sneaking out of group study sessions with flimsy excuses, only to return looking flustered and breathless. Sunoo even catches you and Sunghoon exchanging hushed words in the corner of the hallway, too close for comfort, and he raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin forming on his lips.

“Are you two planning a secret mission, or is there something else we should know?” he asks, his tone playful but probing.

Sunghoon just shrugs, but you can feel his eyes on you, daring you to say something. “No mission,” he replies coolly, “unless it’s trying to survive Y/N’s terrible attitude.”

You force a laugh, but the heat in your cheeks gives you away. “Yeah, well, some of us have better things to do than deal with you, Sunghoon.”

But it’s getting harder to pretend, harder to keep the fire between you from spilling over in front of everyone else. Every time he’s near, it feels like the world narrows down to just the two of you, a constant push and pull that’s impossible to ignore. The stolen kisses, the midnight texts, the moments of heated bickering that seem to blur into something more—it’s becoming too much to hide.

And it’s only a matter of time before someone figures it out.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You grip the sheets of your bed, lip caught between your teeth as sunghoon is under your duvet, tonguing your wet entrance, heat pooling in your belly, felling the intensity of your orgasm creeping up on you.

It’s all cut short when your door bursts open without warning, and Karina barges in, her voice already raised. “Y/N, I swear I’m going to lose my mind—!”

You freeze, your heart stopping in your chest. “Karina!” you squeak, quickly yanking the sheets up to your chin. “What happened to knocking?”

Karina stops mid-rant, blinking at you. “Oh, come on, like I ever knock?” she scoffs, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Anyway, you will not believe what Heeseung just did—”

She’s moving closer to the bed, and you panic, shifting slightly to keep Sunghoon hidden beneath the covers. You can feel him tense up, and his hand slips to your thigh under the sheets, pinching you playfully. You bite your lip to stifle a gasp, kneeing him as a warning.

Karina continues her rant, oblivious. “I mean, he had the nerve to ditch me for practice again, and I’m just—ugh, I needed to vent to someone who understands!”

Your mind races, desperately trying to keep her attention away from the suspicious lump between your legs. “That sounds… really frustrating,” you say, a bit too brightly. “But maybe just, you know, talk to him?”

Karina flops down on the edge of your bed, dangerously close to Sunghoon’s concealed figure. “Oh, I’ll talk to him, alright. I’m just so sick of his stupid excuses—”

Sunghoon’s fingers press into your clit under the sheets. He’s grinning, enjoying the situation far too much. You jab him again, your heart racing.

Karina glances at you, finally noticing your tense posture. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird,” she says, her brows furrowing.

You force a laugh, your voice too high. “I’m fine! Just… woke up. Didn’t expect you to burst in like that.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Since when do you care if I burst in? And why are you so… red?”

You feel the heat creeping up your neck. “Uh, just… hot in here,” you stammer, shifting to keep Sunghoon completely out of sight.

Karina looks like she’s about to press further, but then she sighs, clearly more focused on her Heeseung drama. “Whatever, I just needed to get that off my chest. He drives me insane!”

You nod quickly. “Yeah, I get it. He’s… Heeseung, you know?” Karina gives you a small smile, her frustration easing. “Thanks for listening. And seriously, you look so weird right now.”

You laugh nervously. “Yeah, just tired.”

Finally, she stands up, heading toward the door. “Alright, I’ll leave you to… whatever you were doing. I’m gonna go call him and give him a piece of my mind.”

You nod eagerly. “Good luck with that!”

As soon as she leaves, you exhale in relief, lifting the cover to eye Sunghoon, who’s still grinning like an idiot. “What?” he whispers, amused.

“What?” you repeat, incredulous. “You almost got us caught, that’s what!”

He chuckles, pulling you back down under the sheets. “Relax. She didn’t notice a thing.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is still racing from the close call. “You’re lucky,” you mutter.

Sunghoon just leans in closer, his lips brushing your cheek. “You love the thrill,” he murmurs.

And damn it, you hate that he’s right.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

It's late, the night air cool against your skin as you lean against the wall outside the school building, waiting for Sunghoon. You don't even know why you agreed to meet him here. Maybe because he seemed so insistent, or maybe because a part of you wanted to see him, even though you’d never admit it.

He arrives moments later, his footsteps heavy as he approaches. There’s a different energy about him tonight—something serious, something intense. His usual smirk is nowhere to be found, and his hands are shoved deep into his pockets. He stops in front of you, a little too close, and you have to tilt your head up to meet his eyes.

“What’s this about?” you ask, trying to sound casual, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

He doesn’t answer right away, his gaze boring into yours like he’s searching for something, something he can’t quite find. You shift on your feet, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“Sunghoon?” you prompt, your voice wavering just slightly.

He finally speaks, his tone lower than usual. “I’ve been thinking… about us,” he says, the words almost hesitant, like he’s testing them out.

You blink, caught off guard. “Us?”

He nods, his expression serious. “Yeah, Y/N, us. You and me… whatever this is.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep your face neutral. “I thought we agreed it’s nothing,” you reply, but your voice comes out softer than you intended.

Sunghoon’s eyes narrow, frustration flashing in his gaze. “Yeah, that’s what we said,” he agrees, “but it doesn’t feel like nothing to me anymore.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. You’ve never seen him like this—so open, so exposed. “Sunghoon, I don’t know what you’re getting at,” you say carefully.

He takes a step closer, his expression more intense. “I’m saying that I’ve caught myself… thinking about you. A lot. When you’re not around, I’m wondering what you’re doing, who you’re with. I hate that it bothers me when I see you talking to other guys, and I can’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else.”

You feel a wave of panic rising in your chest. This is too much, too fast. You press your back harder against the wall as if trying to create more distance between you. “Sunghoon, this was never supposed to be serious,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I know, and I tried to keep it that way. But every time I see you, every time we’re together… I can’t help it. I don’t want to help it.”

You shake your head, refusing to let his words sink in. “You don’t mean that,” you insist, more to yourself than to him. “You’re just saying this because it’s… new or whatever. It’ll pass.”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenches, and he moves even closer, leaving barely any space between you. “No, Y/N, it won’t. I’ve tried to stop feeling this way, but I can’t. And I know you feel something too, even if you won’t admit it.”

Your pulse quickens, and you feel your resolve starting to crumble. “I don’t—” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“Stop lying,” he says firmly, his voice carrying a hint of desperation. “You’re scared, I get it. But don’t pretend like this is all just a game to you.”

You feel a flash of anger, your defenses rising. “What if it is, Sunghoon? What if I don’t want anything more than what we already have?”

His expression falters for a moment, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. “Then I guess I’ve made a mistake,” he murmurs, taking a step back.

You feel a pang in your chest, a sharp, unexpected ache. “Sunghoon…”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

For a second, you want to reach out, to say something, anything, to make that look on his face go away. But the fear of letting your guard down, of admitting that he might be right, keeps you silent.

He takes another step back, his expression hardening. “I won’t bother you about it again,” he says, his voice cold. “Let’s just go back to pretending like none of this ever happened.”

You nod, though you feel a tightness in your throat. “Yeah, let’s do that,” you say quietly, even though your chest aches with a feeling you don’t want to name.

Sunghoon turns and walks away, and you’re left standing there, the cool night air biting at your skin. You watch him go, feeling something inside you break just a little, and you wonder if maybe you’ve made a mistake too.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next morning at school, everything feels heavier. The halls are crowded, but it’s like there’s a spotlight following you, and you can’t shake the feeling that everyone knows. You make your way to your locker, avoiding eye contact with anyone, especially Sunghoon.

You don’t see him at first, but you feel him—his presence looming in the periphery. It’s like he’s everywhere, watching you, and it makes your skin prickle with nerves. You busy yourself with rearranging your textbooks, trying to calm the storm inside your head.

“Hey, Y/N,” Karina chirps, appearing beside you. Her usual bright smile is there, but her eyes are curious, searching your face. “Are you okay? You seemed a little… off yesterday.”

You force a smile, gripping your locker door tighter than necessary. “Yeah, just tired, I guess.”

She studies you for a second longer, then nods. “Well, you should have come to dinner with us last night. It was a total mess, as always, but fun.”

You nod absently, not really listening. Your eyes flick over Karina’s shoulder and catch Sunghoon’s gaze across the hallway. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“Y/N?” Karina prompts, bringing your attention back to her. “You’re zoning out again.”

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Just a lot on my mind.”

Karina glances over her shoulder, following your line of sight. Her brow furrows slightly. “You’ve been weird around Sunghoon lately,” she remarks. “Did something happen?”

Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly shake your head. “No, nothing. Why would you think that?”

She shrugs, unconvinced. “I don’t know… Just a feeling.”

You’re saved from having to respond when the bell rings. You grab your books and make a beeline for your next class, trying to ignore the heat of Sunghoon’s stare burning into your back.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Class drags on painfully. You can’t focus. Your mind is a whirlwind of confusion and annoyance. You thought sneaking around with Sunghoon would be fun, a game—a way to blow off steam. But now it’s getting messy, and you’re starting to feel the consequences.

When the bell finally rings, you bolt out of the classroom, desperate for fresh air. But as soon as you turn the corner, you’re yanked into an empty hallway.

Sunghoon.

His grip on your arm is firm, and his eyes are intense, searching yours. “We need to talk,” he says, his voice low.

You pull your arm free, glaring at him. “What’s there to talk about, Sunghoon? We agreed this was supposed to be casual. No strings, remember?”

He frowns, clearly irritated by your tone. “Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like that anymore, does it?”

You cross your arms over your chest, trying to steady your breathing. “That’s because you’re making it weird. Just… back off a little, okay?”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenches, and he takes a step closer. “Back off? You’re the one acting all paranoid, Y/N.”

“Maybe because you won’t stop staring at me like everyone else can’t see it!” you snap back, your voice rising. “This was supposed to be simple. But you’re turning it into something… complicated.”

He scoffs, a humorless smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe because it is complicated. Or have you not noticed?”

You hate the way your chest tightens at his words, the way his closeness makes your heart race. “Don’t do this, Sunghoon,” you warn, your voice quieter, more vulnerable than you’d like.

He pauses, his gaze softening just for a second. “Do what?”

“Make this more than it is,” you whisper, feeling a knot form in your throat. “Because I can’t… I won’t.”

Sunghoon’s expression hardens again, and he leans back, crossing his arms defensively. “Fine,” he mutters. “If that’s how you want it.”

You swallow, forcing yourself to stay composed. “Yeah. It is.”

He nods curtly, stepping away, his face unreadable. “Good. See you around, then,” he says before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you standing in the empty hallway with your heart in your throat.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next few days are torture. Sunghoon keeps his distance, and you tell yourself it’s for the best. But every time you see him, every time you catch his eyes across the cafeteria or in class, there’s a hollow ache in your chest that you can’t ignore.

Your friends notice the tension. They ask questions, but you shrug it off, pretending everything’s fine. But you can’t stop replaying your last conversation with Sunghoon, the way his face looked when you told him to back off. You hate how much you miss him, even if you’d never admit it to anyone, especially not to him.

One afternoon, as you’re walking to your car after school, you spot him leaning against a tree nearby, talking to some girl you don’t recognize. He’s smiling, that same smile that used to be reserved for your private moments. Something sharp twists in your chest, and you quickly look away, anger flaring up.

He catches your glance and, for a moment, his smile falters. But then he leans in closer to the girl, laughing at something she says, and your stomach churns with a mix of jealousy and frustration.

You grip your bag tighter, feeling a sting behind your eyes. This is exactly why you didn’t want things to get complicated. You turn away, refusing to look back.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Sunghoon avoids you. He’s usually the first one to shoot a teasing remark your way, but he’s silent. The hallways feel strangely empty without his usual jabs, and your friends are starting to notice the shift between you two.

“Are you guys fighting again?” Karina asks, as the two of you walk to lunch. Her tone is half-exasperated, half-amused, but you know she’s genuinely curious. “You and Sunghoon, I mean. There’s definitely more tension than usual.”

You shrug, trying to seem indifferent, but your stomach twists with anxiety. “When aren’t we fighting?” you mutter.

She gives you a knowing look, but thankfully doesn’t push it further. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take without your feelings bubbling over. You’re determined to get through lunch without letting Sunghoon get under your skin, but when you enter the cafeteria, you spot him immediately.

He’s at your usual table, talking to Heeseung, but his gaze is elsewhere. The second you walk in, his eyes find yours, and there’s a fleeting moment of something unreadable in his expression. A flash of frustration? Longing? You can’t be sure.

You take a deep breath and head over, sliding into your usual seat. Karina sits next to you, and for a moment, everything feels normal. But then Sunghoon starts talking.

“So,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes locked on you, “Heeseung, heard you and Karina had another spat. What was it this time? You didn’t say ‘I love you’ enough?”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, but Karina just laughs, lightly smacking Heeseung’s arm. “Don’t listen to him, babe. He’s just deflecting from his own issues,” she teases.

Sunghoon smirks, but there’s no real humor in it. “I don’t have issues, Karina. Just people who like to make things complicated,” he says, glancing at you.

You feel your face heat up, irritation boiling over. “Oh, please,” you snap back. “Like you’re the picture of simplicity.”

He leans back in his chair, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Never said I was. But at least I’m honest about it.”

Your chest tightens. “Honest?” you scoff. “You’ve been playing games from the start, Sunghoon.”

He shrugs, feigning indifference. “Maybe I have. But at least I know what I want.”

His words send a jolt of electricity through you, and you clench your jaw, trying to keep your composure. “And what’s that, exactly?”

He leans forward, his voice dropping low so only you can hear. “You. But you already knew that.”

Your heart skips a beat. For a second, you’re frozen, caught between wanting to slap him and… something else. Something you’re not ready to face.

“You’re such a—” you start, but before you can finish, Sunghoon’s foot nudges yours under the table, and your breath hitches.

You’re hyper-aware of the table between you, the curious glances from your friends, and the heat creeping up your neck. Sunghoon’s gaze is still on you, challenging, waiting for your response.

You can’t help the retort that slips out. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a small grin. “More than you know.”

Before you can shoot back another insult, heeseung cuts in, oblivious to the tension. “Okay, what is happening between you two? I feel like I missed an entire chapter here.”

Sunghoon doesn’t even glance at Heeseung. “Nothing’s happening. Right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you reply, forcing a smile, but your voice sounds strained, even to your own ears.

Heeseung and Karina exchange a look, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, whatever you say,” Karina murmurs with a smirk. “Just remember, denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.”

Sunghoon’s lips twitch in amusement, and he finally looks away, leaning back in his chair as if nothing happened. But under the table, his foot is still lightly brushing against yours, sending sparks up your leg.

You bite the inside of your cheek, determined not to let him see how much he’s getting to you.

But you can’t help it—the sensation, the frustration, and the undeniable attraction between you are all mixing into one chaotic storm.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and everyone begins to gather their things. You stand, trying to shake off the tension still lingering between you and Sunghoon, but Karina has other ideas.

“Hey, Y/N,” she calls, grabbing your arm just as you’re about to head out. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

You nod, feeling a knot form in your stomach. She leads you to a quieter corner of the hallway, away from the crowd. You can tell by the look on her face that she’s not letting this go.

Karina crosses her arms, tilting her head slightly. “Okay, seriously,” she starts, her voice low but pointed. “What the fuck was that back there?”

You blink, trying to feign ignorance. “What was what?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me. You and Sunghoon… there was some serious tension at lunch. It was like watching a live soap opera, and I feel like I’ve missed a few episodes.”

You sigh, glancing around to make sure no one is listening in. “It’s nothing, Karina,” you insist, but even to your own ears, it sounds unconvincing.

Karina raises an eyebrow. “Nothing? Really? Because from where I was sitting, it looked like something. A big something.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how much to tell her. “Look, we… we just don’t get along. You know that.”

“Yeah, but this felt different,” she replies, not letting up. “Like, I don’t know, it almost seemed like… there was something more there.”

Her words hit a little too close to home, and you feel your cheeks heat up. “You’re imagining things,” you say quickly, but Karina’s not buying it.

She leans in closer, her expression turning more serious. “Y/N, I’m your best friend. I know when something’s up. And that? That was definitely something.”

You hesitate, torn between the urge to confide in her and the fear of admitting the truth. “It’s complicated,” you finally admit, your voice barely a whisper.

Karina’s eyes widen with intrigue. “Complicated how?”

You swallow hard, looking away. “I don’t even know how to explain it. We’ve just… been hanging out a little more lately. And things got… weird.”

“Weird how?” she presses, clearly not letting this go.

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “We’ve been… hooking up,” you confess, your voice almost inaudible.

Karina’s mouth falls open in shock. “Wait, what? You and Sunghoon?” She looks like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or gasp. “Since when?”

“A few weeks,” you admit, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety now that the secret is out.

Karina blinks, taking a moment to process. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t think it would last this long,” you say defensively. “I thought it was just going to be a one-time thing, but then… it wasn’t.”

Karina’s expression softens slightly. “And how do you feel about it? About him?”

You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. “I don’t know. It’s confusing. Half the time, I can’t stand him. The other half… well, you saw how lunch went.”

Karina lets out a small laugh. “Yeah, I did. It’s like you two can’t decide whether you want to kill each other or… not.”

You groan, leaning back against the wall. “That’s exactly how it feels.”

Karina nudges you with her elbow. “Just be careful, okay? Sunghoon’s not exactly known for being straightforward with his feelings.”

You nod, appreciating her concern. “I know. Trust me, I’m not expecting anything… much. It’s just… whatever it is.”

Karina gives you a knowing smile. “Alright, but just remember, I’m here if you need to talk. Or, you know, if you need me to kick his ass.”

You laugh, feeling some of the tension ease. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

As you walk back to class, you feel a little lighter, but also more uncertain than ever. Because now that Karina knows, it feels more real. And that scares you more than you’d like to admit.

You pause for a moment, letting your thoughts catch up to your racing heart. Sunghoon had admitted it first, hadn't he? In his own cryptic way, he’d confessed he wanted more than just the back-and-forth, more than just the thrill of the chase. You remember the way he looked at you that day, his eyes full of frustration and something else — something softer, something you weren’t ready to face.

He’d said he wanted you. He’d practically dared you to deny that you wanted him, too. And ever since, you’ve been trying to convince yourself that it didn't matter — that it was just some passing thing, some fling to fill the boredom. But it wasn't. It never was.

You sigh deeply, leaning back against the wall of the building. The memory of his words still lingers like a brand on your skin: "I want you." It had sounded so simple when he said it, so sure. Like he wasn’t afraid of the mess that came with it.

You’ve been too afraid to admit it to yourself, but now… now it feels like you’ve been fighting a battle that’s already lost.

He confessed his feelings first, but you’ve been holding back, afraid to let yourself feel the same. Afraid of what it might mean, of how it could change things between you. You thought you could control it, could manage the situation and keep your distance, but all you’ve managed to do is dig yourself deeper into this mess.

You’re tired. Tired of fighting your own heart, tired of pretending you’re unaffected. Tired of feeling like you're caught in this tug-of-war between desire and denial.

*He’s already put himself out there,* you remind yourself. *He made the first move.* And that thought alone is enough to push you forward, to make you realize that maybe it’s your turn now. Your turn to decide if you want to keep running or if you’re brave enough to let yourself fall.

Pushing off the wall, you feel a wave of determination settle over you. If you’re going to do this, you need to find him and be honest. Not just with him, but with yourself.

Because you don’t want to keep this back-and-forth going, this constant dance of pushing and pulling. You want to know where you stand — with him, and with whatever this thing between you is becoming.

You take a deep breath and start walking, knowing exactly where to find him. And this time, you’re not going to let him get away without an answer.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You find Sunghoon by the lockers, leaning against the metal with that typical nonchalant pose he seems to have perfected. His head is tilted down, focused on his phone, but he looks up as you approach, sensing your presence. His eyes flicker with surprise for just a moment before his usual guarded expression returns.

“What do you want?” he asks, his voice laced with that familiar arrogance, but there’s something else there, too—an undercurrent of curiosity, maybe even hope.

You don’t bother with pleasantries. “We need to talk,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You try to sound firm, but even you can hear the slight waver in your voice. Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“Oh, so now you want to talk?” he retorts, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “After avoiding me all day?”

You roll your eyes, feeling the tension bubble up again. “I wasn’t avoiding you,” you snap, even though you both know it’s a lie. “I just needed… time to think.”

He straightens up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Think about what?” he asks, and his tone is a little softer now, less mocking.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of your next words pressing down on you. “About this. About us,” you say, your voice steadier now. “I’m tired of all this back and forth, Sunghoon. I’m tired of pretending like there’s nothing between us when we both know there is.”

His eyes search yours, and for a moment, his guard slips. “I told you how I felt,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re the one who kept pretending it was just… nothing.”

You feel a pang of guilt twist in your stomach. “I know,” you admit, meeting his gaze head-on. “And I was wrong. I thought I could just… push it away, ignore it. But I can’t. Not anymore.”

Sunghoon’s expression softens, just a little. “So what are you saying?” he asks, his voice careful, as if he’s trying not to hope too much.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stay honest. “I’m saying… I want to figure this out. I want to try… whatever this is between us. But I need you to be real with me, Sunghoon. No more games.”

He takes a step closer, closing the distance between you, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve been real,” he says, his voice low and intense. “I’ve been real since that night at Karina’s party, and I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”

You’re taken aback by the sincerity in his words, by the way his eyes seem to bore into yours like he’s trying to see into your very soul. “I’m here now,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper.

Sunghoon takes another step closer, and now he’s right in front of you, his breath warm on your skin. “So what do you want?” he murmurs, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Do you want me, or are you still trying to convince yourself you don’t?”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. But then you realize you’ve known the answer all along. “I want you,” you admit, your voice steady, finally letting the truth slip past your lips. “But I don’t want to keep pretending like it’s nothing. I want to try… something real. But I don’t want it to be this constant push and pull, Sunghoon. I can’t keep doing that.”

Sunghoon’s lips curl into a small, almost relieved smile. “Then let’s stop playing games,” he says softly, leaning in closer. “Let’s see where this goes, no more pretending. Just you and me.”

You feel a strange sense of relief wash over you at his words, a weight lifting from your chest. “Okay,” you whisper, and it feels like the most honest thing you’ve said in a long time.

His smile widens just a fraction, and he closes the final distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a way that feels both familiar and new. It’s not the frantic, heated kisses you’ve shared before—it’s slower, deeper, filled with a promise of something more.

And for the first time, you feel like you’re finally on the same page. Finally moving in the same direction.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Over the next few weeks, things between you and Sunghoon change in ways you never could have anticipated. At first, it’s subtle — small shifts that only the two of you notice. You spend more time together between classes, sitting closer at lunch, and texting late into the night. The playful bickering is still there, but it’s softened somehow, more like an inside joke than a battle.

Your friends don’t notice at first. They’re used to seeing you and Sunghoon together, arguing about this or that, so the extra time you spend with him doesn't raise any immediate red flags. But eventually, the signs become too obvious to ignore.

One day at lunch, you’re sitting next to Sunghoon, your legs brushing under the table. His hand casually rests on the back of your chair, his thumb occasionally grazing your shoulder. Jay, seated across from you, narrows his eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asks, his tone teasing but his eyes curious.

You glance over at Sunghoon, who just smirks. “What do you mean?” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant, but you can feel the flush creeping up your neck.

Jay gestures between the two of you. “This,” he says, waving his hand. “You two. You’re being weird. Weird even for you two.”

Karina, who’s been listening in, gasps. “Oh my god,” she says, her eyes widening with realization. “Are you guys… together?”

The table goes silent for a second, everyone turning to look at you. Sunoo’s eyebrows shoot up, and Jake leans forward, looking like he’s trying to solve a particularly complicated math problem.

Sunghoon leans back, crossing his arms over his chest with a grin. “Depends,” he says casually. “What do you think?”

You elbow him in the side, rolling your eyes at his vague answer. “Yes,” you say, looking at your friends. “We’re… together. Kind of.”

“Kind of?” Sunghoon echoes, feigning offense, and you shoot him a playful glare.

“Yes, kind of!” you insist, turning back to your friends, who are now staring at you like you’ve just revealed you’re secretly an alien. “It’s… new.”

Heeseung chuckles. “I mean, I’m not totally surprised,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “You two have been like a powder keg waiting to explode for years.”

Yuna nods eagerly. “Honestly, it was about time,” she adds, and you can’t help but laugh at her bluntness.

Jungwon, however, looks mildly concerned. “So, you’re serious?” he asks, glancing between you and Sunghoon. “Like, actually serious?”

Sunghoon looks at you, his smile softening just a bit, and he nods. “Yeah,” he says, and there’s a sincerity in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. “We’re serious.”

Your friends take a moment to process this. Then Jake grins. “Alright,” he says, raising his glass of soda. “To Y/N and Sunghoon. The enemies-to-lovers arc we didn’t know we needed.”

You laugh, and everyone joins in, raising their glasses. It’s strange, in a way, seeing everyone so quickly accept what feels like a massive shift in your life. But it also feels… right.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Over the next few days, things become more obvious. You and Sunghoon are no longer trying to hide. He reaches for your hand in the hallways, and you let him. He kisses you on the cheek in front of the others, and they pretend to gag but smile knowingly when they think you’re not looking.

You catch Karina’s eye one afternoon, and she gives you a grin that’s part smug, part excited. She leans over, whispering, “So… you finally admitted you like him, huh?”

You smile, shrugging a bit. “Guess so,” you say, and she laughs, nudging you with her elbow.

The hardest part, strangely enough, is getting used to the change yourself. It’s still weird to not have to hide how you feel, to be able to smile at Sunghoon without wondering if anyone is watching. But with each passing day, it gets a little easier.

And it’s not like everything is perfect. You and Sunghoon still argue — of course, you do. That’s just how you are. But there’s something different now, something that feels less like anger and more like… passion. Like you’re both on the same side, even when you’re bickering.

There are moments when you catch him looking at you from across the room, a small smile on his lips, and you feel a warmth spread through your chest. And in those moments, you know — this is real. This is right.

Your friends have stopped asking questions. They’ve accepted that this is your new normal, and honestly, so have you. The only thing left to do is see where it takes you.

taglist: @awqken @hollyoongs @enhastolemyheart @wonnienyang @skzenhalove @slvrnm @lovesangyeon @velvetkisscs @soobieboo @jakeflvrz @woorcve @moonpri @blockbusterhee @yjwsgf @doublebunv @moon4moony @woniebae @moon368 @jakeswifewithtwokids @love4hee @ikeryn @univershoon @indigoez @ramenoil @iilwji @riribell @ilabjungwon @tunafishyfishylike @psh23xie @toodeloosoo @leov3rse @onlyhyunjin @nyxtwixx @mnxnii @whateverhoon @jayrelics @laurradoesloveu @heeswif3y @enhalxvr @yunhoswrldddd @nikiswifiee @aiiselle90210 @lixiebokie @lelsforlino @eneiyri @punchbug9-blog @babystrlla @hee-yunie @hoonics @notevenheretbh1

5K notes · View notes

criminalyun · 8 months ago

Text

enhypen fic recs

if any authors would like for me to remove their work, please pm me so i can do it as soon as possible!!

ot7 / multi

e(nnn)- | heeseung & jake, series & smut — by @jwonsite

break-up sex | hyung line, smut, fluff & angst — by @flowershines

a good ride | heeseung & jake, smut & fave 2.4k — by @yeonzzzn

meddle about (part one) | heeseung & sunghoon, smut & angst 9k — by @en-dazedafterdark

meddle about with me (part two) | heeseung & sunghoon, smut, fluff & angst 11.9k — by @en-dazedafterdark

taste tester | jay & jungwon, smut 1.9k — by @g0niki

cameras on | jay & jungwon, smut 3.4k — by @g0niki

cameras on: take two (part two) | jay & jungwon, smut 2.3k — by @g0niki

all fun and games: 02z | jay, jake & sunghoon, smut 4.7k — by @yeonzzzn

given-taken | hyung line, smut, fluff & fave 10k+ — by @drunkhazed

cross the line | heeseung & sunghoon, smut 10k+ — by @drunkhazed

i would give up heaven if i had to | heeseung & sunghoon, series, smut, fluff & angst — by @drunkhazed

the classics : an enhypen series | ot7, series, smut, fluff, angst & fave — by @taeghi

bets are meant to be won | 02z, smut, fluff & fave — by @taeghi

making you squirt | hyung line, smut & FAVE — by @heeliopheelia

lee heeseung

cherry | smut, fluff & angst 23k+ — by @moon7jay

won’t let you go this time | angst, smut, fluff & fave 36k — by @zreamy

the sinner and the sin | smut & fave 4.7k — by @luvyeni

let me take care of you | smut & fluff — by @enha-stars

unfortunate desire | series, smut, angst & fluff — by @taeghi

always been you | smut, fluff & angst 16.6k — by @jaeyunverse

corruption | smut & fluff — by @onlyjaeyun

baby trapping | smut 1.5k — by @yeonzzzn

creep | smut & fave 5k — by @drunkhazed

crush (part two) | smut, fluff & fave 5k — by @drunkhazed

bite me | smut, fluff & fave 20k — by @drunkhazed

park jongseong

bestie jay | smut — by @drunkhazed

bestie jay (part two) | smut — by @drunkhazed

bestie jay (part three) | smut — by @drunkhazed

sim jaeyun

chilling & killing | series, smut & fave — by @yeonzzzn

erotic empathy | smut 12.7k — by @simpjaes

let me take care of you | smut & fluff — by @enha-stars

the bet | fluff 1.2k — by @jaeyunverse

“your nose is so pretty” | smut & fave — by @onlyjaeyun

worshipping you | smut — by @onlyjaeyun

taste of you | smut 2.9k — by @yeonzzzn

out of bounds | smut — by @cinnasweetss

park sunghoon

we can’t be friends | smut — by @dearjaeyuns

spf23 | smut & fluff 31.8k — by @zreamy

spoiled rotten | fluff & suggestive — by @boyfhee

we’ll always have this summer | smut, fluff, angst & fave 25.9k — by @asahicore

freak | smut 4.6k — by @drunkhazed

scream (part two) | smut 5k — by @drunkhazed

kim sunoo

no remorse | smut 2.2k — by @yeonzzzn

yang jungwon

drink up | smut & fave 1.5k — by @g0niki

jungwon x shy!reader | smut 1k — by @intromortal

pick up | smut & fave 1.4k — by @g0niki

nishimura riki

as your trouble maker bf | fluff & fave — by @invvuu

one voice, two phones | series, angst & fluff — by @str0l0gy

all i want for christmas is you | fluff 5.4k — by @jaeyunverse

last updated: 29/04/24

6K notes · View notes

karinasbaby · 3 months ago

Text

ENHA HYUNG LINE — YOUR GIRLFRIEND’S DADDY ! (they all have daddy kinks. sorry.) part 1 !!

P. enha hyung line + jungwon x fem!reader (17+) | W. unprotected sex, infidelity (but it’s valid), mentions of cheating, lots of pet names, cervix & womb fucking, enha r jealous & feral, breeding kink, biting & marking, other members from diff kpop groups being assholes & getting fucked over (this is just fiction don’t come at me), lots of other filthy shit i forgot | WC. 12k (idek how that happened) | A,N. this one has been in the drafts since july. and i just finished it up while waiting for my doctor’s appointment, enjoy!

IN WHICH the hyung line (+ jungwon) get addicted to a pussy that doesn’t belong to them in the first place ?!

♡ PS this part contains heeseung, jake & jungwon !! <3

✷ LEE HEESEUNG ⋆ 이희승

the one thing that always stood out about heeseung, a striking trait that he carried was his exceptional ability to hide his emotions.

though this odd trait of his did have its own pros and cons that appeared and made themselves pretty evident throughout his life, heeseung still thought this was a good characteristic about himself.

it helped a lot to hide his emotions when he lied, when he tried to make an excuse as to why he forgot to do his homework. when asked from his friends if he was feeling down and the list went on. to put things short, he was the exact opposite of an open book that was easily read.

but heeseung started to slowly doubt this speciality of his, especially when it came to his bestfriend. and his little sister, you.

jeno has always been a great friend of heeseung, their small age gap making the two feel comfortable with one another immediately after meeting. the friendship had a click of some sort, almost making them feel like they’ve known each other for decades when they’ve only been friends for a handful amount of months.

and heeseung wasn’t stopping his grateful and happy emotions to spill out whenever he was with jeno, the kind hearted guy that he always saw as a solid, constant figure in his life and future.

the issue came for heeseung when you, jeno’s cute little sister that he always seemed to eye for a bit too long, got into a relationship.

your first relationship at that.

jeno, as your older brother was rightfully protective, giving you advice every chance he could after checking up on you and your boyfriend, soobin. whom always rubbed jeno the wrong way. but he didn’t have the courage to point it out to you and potentially break your heart, it was a risk he could never take.

but if there was someone that was even more concerned and even more protective— overly protective even, than jeno. it was heeseung.

there was something about soobin that always seemed to just not settle with heeseung. he couldn’t tell if it was his weirdly ‘forgetful memory’ as you liked to call it, or the way his eyes were constantly glued to his phone whenever you four decided to hang out. not giving you a singular ounce of the attention you deserved.

his behaviour towards you, his own girlfriend, was dry. cold. dismissive. and he couldn’t tell if jeno was purposefully turning a blind eye into this, but it was so clearly hurting you.

especially with the way your shoulders would visibly slump whenever you would excitedly tell soobin about an a new event that happened during your lecture, an interest that had your eyes sparkling while he would just nod mindlessly along to your words. vision obstructed and glued onto his stupid phone screen that irritated heeseung to no end. he could see the disappointment rising in you when soobin would pay you no attention. so passive in his responses, so visible that he did not care.

and it was angering heeseung so tremendously. setting him off like a ticking bomb that would explode at the guy any second but he kept holding himself back.

for the sake of jeno. for the sake of you. after all, he was just a friend.

and he couldn’t tell if soobin’s attitude towards you angered him more, or the fact that he was always going to be stuck under the ‘friend’ title in your life.

heeseung had developed feelings for you way before you got into a relationship with soobin, might even be a mere month after jeno introduced you to him. he had always had his eyes lingering on you. a soft, gentle glint in them whenever your presence was surrounding him in any way.

he believed that it was just him forming a soft spot for you in his heart in the beginning, but as time passed by, especially after soobin ruined everything in heeseung’s opinion, his feelings grew. becoming a solidified fact for heeseung instead of a mere reverie that he cooed about in his head.

yet for the longest time, he knew he had to keep his emotions hidden again. falling back into his old routine of covering, blanketing his feelings. hiding and cowering away in fear of your brother finding out and the dear connection that heeseung held so close to his heart ending.

so he bit his tongue. holding back any words, any opinions, any thoughts and of course any emotions that were related to you and soobin. swallowing back his anger that swirled sombrely in the pit of his stomach. though no one was taking notice of his hatred towards soobin, it was only growing more and more day by day.

like a foul stench that would blind your senses, an evil beast that festered malignantly. his distaste towards soobin became a hardened feeling. a prominent one that settled in the front of his chest. growing and branching between his ribs to only pulse in hatred whenever he saw the guy.

he wasn’t sure how long he’ll be able to hide these feelings though.

because not only was he now dealing with the fact that he had to fight himself back from punching soobin everytime he saw him, he also had his own completely opposite emotions that bloomed like the breathtaking petals of a flower when graced by spring sunlight, his undying and thriving pure love for you.

it made his heart ache in dull pain when he saw the damage soobin was causing to you. his own insides ripping apart whenever you would come crying onto jeno’s shoulder because of another argument with your jerk of a boyfriend, he was growing tired. almost as tired as you were becoming from holding his shaking fists back from marking soobin’s god forsaken face. tired from actually capturing his tongue between his teeth before vile words spilled past his lips towards him.

he was so tired with this routine. so sickened of the way you were struggling and struggling. stuck in a bubble of anguish and pain formed by soobin that no one was able to pop.

but heeseung always carried a needle around, for safe measures.

the rainy day you decided to frantically knock on his door, your sobs echoing in his house when you buried your face into his chest because you actually found another girl’s number in the same phone that soobin had his eyes stuck on. was the day that heeseung finally snapped.

fuck all of this.

fuck soobin. fuck jeno. fuck both of their feelings. he had you, who so clearly needed a massive amount of attention, of care and love to pour all over your fresh wound that ached in heeseung’s embrace. he felt his heart shattering into the tiniest pieces when you sobbed in his hold. the desperate grip your fingers had on his arms pulling at his insides as he felt his own tears aligning his waterline.

he hated to see you like this. so heartbroken and devastated over a guy that didn’t even deserve you one bit. he would’ve never treated you like soobin. not even for a single second. heeseung would’ve treated you so much better if only you had looked at him the way he’s always been looking at you for the past months.

if only you took notice of the longing in his eyes. the yearn that clawed at his heartstrings whenever he saw you in front of him. right within arm’s reach but so so far away.

but that didn’t matter anymore. you were finally away from soobin, that fucker was out of your life and you were in heeseung’s arms. heeseung’s embrace that felt so warm, so welcoming as you fit perfectly in his hold. so right.

so you stayed, feeling the safety and comfort that seeped through your body in heeseung’s presence. a peace of mind that you’ve never felt with anyone, not even with your own brother. that lulled you into calmness, heeseung’s gentle touch that brushed against the skin of your face and neck when he would tenderly caress you as he whispered sweet, calming words to your ear that made the raging storm inside of you sizzle down.

the hurt, the pain and all the agony was pushed aside. stuffed inside of a box discarded into the back of your brain. your head throbbed in pain at the excessive amount of crying you did in heeseung’s arms. a pulsing ache that travelled from the back of your skull to the end of your spine as you sniffled quietly in his arms.

“feeling better, precious?” he whispered quietly, voice barely audible. so soft and delicate as if he was scared that any unexpected move or sound will scare you. make you cower away in fear. he knew how to speak to you. how to touch you and handle you just the right way.

so affectionate, calm and delicate when handling you. touch as soft as a baby bird’s feather as if you were made of glass, the most precious material that could break and crumble with the slightest incorrect move.

he made you feel so seen, so understood and cared for. you weren’t too much for him as soobin claimed you to be. not attention seeking or annoying at all.

“not really..” you closed your eyes, wet lashes heavy with tear droplets that didn’t have the chance to roll down your face, he looked at you. in his eyes an unfamiliar glow. unable to pinpoint or understand exactly what he was feeling, all he knew was that he wanted you close to him.

“what can i do to make you feel better, pearl?” the new petname that rolled off his tongue so easily had your heart leaping in your chest, you opened your eyes. glossy vision landing on his own expectant one, he was implying something with his words. both of you aware of the sharp edge in his tone, an invitation that he had slipped towards you. waiting for you to pick it up and accept.

“make me forget about him..” your warm breath fanned over his face, the feeling of finally having you so close made his head spin. a carnal, hidden urge in him awakening after being discarded and thrown away for so long. stuffed deep inside of him for months, a crippling desire. a wicked desire to have you, has surged forward again.

his emotions, feelings, thoughts everything about you that were invalidated by his rational side. concealed in the name of his morals and beliefs that he’s wrong. he shouldn’t desire a taken woman, shouldn’t look at his own best friend’s little sister wrongly, were all springing back to life. enlivened at your mere presence. your mere existence and attendance in his hold. and heeseung was no longer holding himself back.

he didn’t care if what he was going to be doing aligned with his stupid morals and beliefs anymore. didn’t care if you were to wake up tomorrow regretting everything. didn’t care if he wasn’t going to be able to look at jeno in the eye again. he was finally given a taste of you.

not a whisper of you, not a piece of you, you were entirely served on a silver platter for him only to devour. to ravish. to feast on with ardour. to finally satisfy and satiate the hunger that always ached in his stomach for you.

you were finally here. between his fingertips. within arm’s reach, looking at him. staring into his eyes and not only looking at the devoted shine in them directed towards you, you were reciprocating it.

“yeah? that’s what you want, pretty?” he leaned down, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. you closed your eyes at the intimacy. a warmth spreading inside of you before settling into your core. dripping. that’s what you were. absolutely soaked.

“i want you.” you spoke, hit with an unknown urge to only speak the truth. removing each and every filter from your mind and mouth as you let your tongue speak whatever your brain formed at that current moment. and you wanted heeseung.

and who was he to deny you of that?

your sultry eyes that looked at him in pure lust asking him that? he was gone. your vixen like manners wrapping him in a chokehold. he was such a weak man for you. determined on pleasing you to the best of his ability, make you lose count on the amounts of times he’ll push you towards your high just so you can think about him and how good your pretty little cunt feels.

and so heeseung started, laying you on your stomach atop his satin sheets with your hands behind you, restrained by his fastened belt around your wrists while you squirmed on his bed. long, thick fingers that worked past your sopping entrance. leaking mushy walls tightened around his digits as if welcoming them for being inside of your needy pussy. fuck you were drenched.

“what a greedy cunt.. sucking my fingers in like this, wonder how long you’ve been waiting for this, pearl.” he laughed behind you, busy taking in the way your slick was drizzling down his palm, the way your puffy swollen folds swallowed in his long fingers entirely. the wet sounds from his abuse against your sweet spot was the cherry on top for him.

he was so fucking hard in his pants. his briefs feeling unbearably tight. heeseung breathed out short huffs of breaths, working his way to stretch your tight pussy open before fucking you on his length that he was sure you couldn’t take.

especially not with the way you were moaning and thrashing in his bed just from his fingers.

but who could blame you? he felt so good. his elongated fingers brushing against all of your sweet spots so deliciously. you could only imagine how mouth watering his cock would feel when he finally decides to fuck you like you’ve always dreamed of.

you couldn’t deny the attraction you’ve held for heeseung. the twinge at your heart that hoped to tug you towards him, an unknown pull that always made you stay up late at night thinking about heeseung. wondering about heeseung. dreaming about heeseung.

and for the longest time, it made you feel so guilty. so ashamed of the fact that you were thinking of your friend more than your own boyfriend. yet at the same time you heard a tiny voice in your head justifying your actions, a small part of you knew that your boyfriend was really anything but a boyfriend.

you did notice his passive behaviour. his curt responses and cold attitude towards you. but did you actually have the courage to confront soobin about it? to bring it up as an actual issue that was clearly building a separating wall between you two in your relationship? of course no. you decided to turn into a blind eye and hold faith in false beliefs that maybe, just maybe soobin will change one day.

except that day never came. it was never going to.

and the rational, logical part of you knew this. knew this so so well that it decided to give up on soobin long before your heart realised the change in your desire. the change in your mind, the way your thoughts quickly turned from being clouded with soobin, to being thundered with your beloved friend heeseung.

you didn’t even realise you had such a drastic change of heart. only coming to the chilling notion of how when you were with soobin, heeseung roamed your mind. when you were talking to jeno. heeseung was filling the back of your head. when soobin was trying to make dry love that lacked any sense of passion with you, you were left to fend for yourself with your fingers, and heeseung in your brain. heeseung on your thoughts, the whisper of ‘heeseung’ on your tongue when you finally reached the climax soobin couldn’t bring you to.

and in the beginning you were scared, terrified even of the thumping in your chest that you were sure anyone could hear if they stepped close enough to you when you were around heeseung. scared of the way your eyes would stray too far away from soobin and remain stuck on heeseung for too long. scared of the way you were only staying in your current relationship not out of love, but out of attachment to soobin when you yearned for heeseung.

hence why the only relief that you found in your love life was in your dreams. your unconscious daydreams that would conjure up a love story, a love vessel that branched between you and heeseung. every night with no fail.

yet you didn’t have to worry about this anymore. no longer tied emotionally to the false, unrealistic images and feelings that only existed in your head about heeseung. not when you had him currently groaning out praises to you, showering you with so much love and attention that you missed out on as he fucked you through your first orgasm on his fingers.

“such a good girl for me.. cumming around my fingers so well. my obedient little girl.” he trailed kisses from the back of your thighs, wet smacks of his lips against your skin till he reached your shoulder, where he traced his long tongue along your neck. “think you’re ready for me, precious?” he whispered lustfully into your ear. and god did he sound so much better. so much hotter than in your dreams.

voice almost gruff, an entire octave lower than his usual tone as he pressed his warm body against yours. brushing the exposed, leaking head of his cock and separating your oozing lower lips after discarding himself from his clothes. he was so menacing. teasing you so much when all your body ached for was to be filled up to the brim with his length.

“so needy for me.. look at your cunt trying to suck me in, pearl.” he hissed, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sight of the same hole that he just fucked open with his fingers gaping at him. dribbling more of your syrupy nectar down your inner thighs as if to seduce him. winking at him when you tightened around nothing just to entice him further. making a wave of thrill pass through his body just so he would fill you up.

and well, heeseung was a very weak, weak man when it came to you.

he pushed the head of his cock in. the two of you hissing in sync, your pretty plump lips falling in an ‘o’ shape while he bit on his lower lip, your gushing walls wrapped around him so tightly the first time he sunk his cock in you. as if greeting him, their new owner before moulding into his shape.

if heeseung stared at your form any longer, he would’ve came inside of you already, ruining both of your fun. but goodness was seeing you twitching in his bed, plush thighs pushed to the sides so he can stuff his cock inside of you so fully while your arms shook and jerked around his own belt was a divine sight. one he quickly imprinted onto his brain to always go back to whenever needed.

but something told him that that wasn’t going to happen, he doesn’t need to depend on his memory anymore. he felt like he was going to be able to experience the real deal after this.

he pushed his hips forward, thrusting in and brushing right against your g-spot that had you whining his name almost automatically. “found it..” he smirked in victory, “that’s your weak spot isn’t it, pearl?” leaning down just a bit to inch closer to your ear, “your sweet sweet spot, baby.” you felt tears aligning your eyes. glossing over when he continued to nudge his hips against your spot. the one corner in your walls that had you seeing stars.

legs already shaking under him, you mewled his name so adorably. each huff and puff of air past your glistening lips made his heart skip a beat. he was growing even more obsessed with you than he already was. “y-yes seung.. that’s— oh my god.. that’s it!” you whined and sobbed for him.

heeseung sucked a deep breath in, lips kissing his teeth as his body felt like it was lit ablaze. so many months of daydreaming about this current moment that he was in right now paid off. you felt so hot. so pliant. so malleable under him. body reacting to each touch of his so sweetly, like your body recognised his as its other half before either of you did.

“such a good- haah shit.. such a good pussy.. sucking me in so well. you feel fuckin’ divine, pretty.” his eyes rolled into the back of his head from the way your cunt just kept gushing and sputtering out wetness before wrapping around his cock and sucking him back in deep. so so deep he was bruising your insides.

“j-just for you daddy..” a broken, quiet sentence that was almost unheard. almost went unnoticed. but heeseung was so glad he caught it. as the second that endearing name fell past your parted lips, he felt an entire electric shock shoot through his spine.

his mind was reeling, breaths growing uneven as your voice played like a broken record in his head, so pretty. so small. so frail and so delicate. as sensitive and precious as an actual pearl you were. heeseung was sinking in so much deeper in love than he already was with you.

“yeah, little girl? daddy’s making you feel good, isn’t he?” he was so careful. each move of his made solely for the purpose of pleasing you. of pushing you closer and closer to your peak of pleasure. and before you realised it, your climax broke down upon you like a dam. tears rolling down your cheeks and onto heeseung’s pillowcases as he fucked you through your high.

god did it feel so relieving. so alleviating to have someone put your pleasure first, to push you to your pleasure first. to care for you, think about you and make love to you for you. it was so different. so delicious you couldn’t help but ravish in the ecstasy of it all. your first ever experience of pure, arrant love.

it wasn’t only heeseung that was getting high off of the pleasure of experiencing you for the first time, your mind was also reeling from experiencing such pleasure for the first time. “s’good daddy.. too good! you feel so warm.” hicupping and babbling on as heeseung only continued to thrust in more harshly.

he felt so feverish, the temperature of his body rising while his room turned steamier. it was almost as if he could no longer breathe. not that his mind registered that feeling in the first place, the only thing he could process was the way your pussy was trying to suck him back in more and more and more.

he leaned forward, allowing his hot exhales of breath to fan against your ear. hand sneaking between your shaking thighs and circling around your clit. “you can give daddy another one, can’t you pearl?” he whimpered next to your ear. his eyelids droopy as he held back on his own climax.

he rolled his hips in circular motion against yours, no longer thrusting his leaking cock in and out and only pressing his mushroom shaped tip onto your cervix, the sensation of him so close, so deep and so hot on top and inside of you made your eyes roll to the back of your head, his movements incessant as he worked and guided your body towards another release.

“f-fuck..” sobbing under heeseung as he coaxed another orgasm out of you, he cooed besides your ear as his hands quickly unclasped his belt from around your wrists, making your hands grip desperately onto the sheets while his laced around your shaking legs, tongue peeking out to lick against your tears as he felt relief in his chest at the sight of you crying from pure pleasure and not over your ex.

the feeling of being so intimately connected to you, having you entrust him with your body and pleasure made his head reel. you being so close to him was a dream come true for heeseung. and now that he had you in tears underneath him, he was never going to be able to let go of this moment.

every second of this night has already been engraved in his head. every emotion and every fast thump of his heart tattooed itself on his memory, and it made him feel so good. so accomplished, he felt complete.

he buried his face in your neck, relishing in the way your body was shivering because of him, the goosebumps that aligned your skin because of his touch, relishing in the feeling of having you around him in every way. “you feel so good, princess..” he drunkenly spoke, his orgasm creeping up on him as he continued to grind against you.

“wrapped around daddy so well, pearl.” he groaned, every sniffle and whimper that left your mouth due to his lewd words went straight to his throbbing cock, he felt like he was seconds away from releasing and filling you up entirely. the thought alone making his jaw clench in delirium.

“want daddy to fill you up, baby?” he whispered, his smirk evident in his whisper. luring you slowly into his trap that seemed so effective with the way you whimpered for him and tightened around him more. so pleased, ecstatic and needy of the mere idea.

“p-please, daddy! please fill me up.. give me your babies..” you begged, weaker hands wrapped around his forearms to keep him in place while your cunt squeezed around him, gushing around his cock just to urge him to not pull out and fill you up instead.

and fuck heeseung was losing it.

your words almost awakening something animalistic in him, a noxious urge to truly fill you up, give you his babies and keep you just for himself only. in that exact moment, all the worries from heeseung’s shoulders evaporated.

your brother no longer mattered, soobin no longer mattered, he himself didn’t matter anymore. he only needed to have you stuck with him for eternity. by his side forever, and you were asking him to do exactly that. asking him so desperately. how could he refuse?

after all, heeseung was a very weak man when it came to you.

“gonna take all of daddy’s babies, pearl?” he chuckled, sweat rolling off of his temples as the coil in his stomach tightened further, the feeling making his voice crack at the end. you nodded frantically under him, nails digging into his skin yet the pain made him hiss in pleasure.

“please give it to me..” you moaned as you felt another release wash over you, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks while heeseung bit your skin at the overwhelming waves of ecstaty that crashed on him. “i’m your good girl, daddy aren’t i? i deserve it.. please.” fuck you sounded so starved. the mere longing in your voice, you calling yourself his good girl made him lose his mind.

and before heeseung could even realise it, he was pumping you full with his warm ropes of cum, both of you groaning in vehement, blinding euphoria while he peppered kisses around your neck and jaw. “of course you’re my good girl, baby fuuuck— you’re my prettiest girl.” his own legs started to shake in pleasure as he rode out his high.

keeping himself so deep inside of you, pushing his load deeper with each slight thrust while he stayed above you. whispering praise after praise for you just to show you how much he truly loves you. heeseung was ready to die for you.

and once his high subsided, he carefully laid next to you, moving you gently to your side and staying rooted deep inside of you before covering both of your bodies with his blanket.

he placed a loving kiss to your temple, arms wrapped protectively around your weak and spent body. “sleep well, pearl.” he spoke, “don’t think about anything, daddy’s here.” you felt the way his hold tightened around you.

you felt too fatigued to reply, instead tilting your head just enough to kiss his hand that was close to your neck, the small gesture carrying your love for the man behind you, making his heart thunder in his chest as you fell asleep, feeling so protected and loved for the first time in so long.

★ SIM JAEYUN ⋆⋆⋆ 심재윤

sim jaeyun was great at many things. acing his physics exams, being the best captain for his university’s football team and being an absolute sweetheart to his teachers and friends.

the only thing that sim jaeyun sometimes lacked in was his ability to give a fuck. especially when it came to his childhood friend, his one sided enemy and shameless copycat.

lee anton, who’s also a close family friend of jake. has been living in his shadow ever since the two could even walk. countless comparisons between the two young boys drew a very fat, drastic line that only distanced them from one another without their parents’ realisation.

sure, anton and jake might’ve sat next to each other at family dinners, passed each other tissues or salt, but the second they were outside of the dining room or the house that pushed them to be in the same vicinity? it was over.

their so called ‘friendship’ was only a show the two of them had unspokenly agreed on in order to not have their families pry into their lives. and for the longest time, it worked.

jake didn’t care. jake couldn’t even bring himself to care about anything anton related while that clearly wasn’t the case for anton.

call it his insecurities or doubts towards everything, he always watched jaeyun from the sidelines with a glint in his eyes that not even he could decipher, whether it was admiration or envy. the only thing anton was sure he felt towards jake, was resentment.

years and years of all of his actions getting nitpicked and compared to jake’s made him only strive to be more. to be better than jake. to reach heights and places the older one could only dream of. but at the same time his dreams only stayed as that, dreams.

because jake— he was untouchable. a dude that had everything and anything really. he was perfect in every aspect. excellent grades, respected by all the sport coaches, admired by every teacher and fawned over by every girl.

and it sickened anton.

because he had multiple things that now he had to improve on, he couldn’t find the one singular thing that jake didn’t have that he could snatch. the one thing he could reach and claim before his enemy could even think about it. he had to figure out a way to make jake jealous, to pay for all of these years of one sided rivalry that only made anton almost lose his sanity.

and so he did.

he found exactly what would set jake off. the only way to turn the tables around and have jake eyeing him from the sidelines.

his crush. anton managed to date you, jake’s obsession and love that no one except his close circle of friends knew about. he had you wrapped around his finger.

you see now as mentioned before, jake didn’t care. he didn’t care what other opinions people had on him, who were getting compared to him or who he was getting compared to himself. he was content and happy in being present in his own bubble, surrounded by his own people he knew he could trust. and well just lived his life.

except he couldn’t do that anymore. not when anton, who was determined to climb up towards jake’s level by also becoming the co-captain of the university’s football team— walked around the halls with his arm wrapped around your waist and lips close to your ear as he whispered a stupid joke that made you laugh. right. in front. of jake.

jake was livid.

for the longest time in his life, he never felt the need to reach his hands out towards something that didn’t come for him first. his eyes never strayed too far away from things that were already meant for him. as difficult as this was to hear for others, jake was simply gifted in many factors in life.

he didn’t try too hard to study and ace all his tests. he was just very intelligent and paid a great amount of attention in his lectures, it wasn’t his fault that he was ridiculously handsome that (as cliche as this sounds) girls fangirled over him when he would pass by the halls. and it really didn’t cost a lot to not be an asshole to others.

so for jake to feel the need to have. the crave to own. the urge to desire something that he wasn’t already divinely gifted? was making him pissed.

he wasn’t even sure himself when his crush on you started, or how it developed to be something that gnawed at his heartstrings everyday. when the smart student of his physics class turned from someone that he only used to admire during his lectures into someone he thought about before falling asleep everynight. what he did know though was the fact that he wanted you.

and was jake someone that didn’t get what he wanted? pfft of course no.

that’s why he had you— anton’s beloved girlfriend who he seemed to forget multiple dates with because he spent too much time ogling jake— clenching down on his leaking length that thrusted past your sopping hole.

“f-fuck! jake— shit! he’s going to hear us!” you mewled his name, body feeling excessively warm, heart thundering against your chest in both anxiety and excitement at the thought of being caught with jake, sweat rolled down both of your bodies while you desperately clawed at jake’s open locker.

jake was currently balls deep inside of you in the football team’s locker room.

where anton was just a hallway away, calling out your name since he had to apologise for missing your fourth date this week.

“scared of letting that asshole hear us? haah— i have no idea why you’re still- fuck.. with him when you have me, angel girl.” he breathed out heavily next to your ear, eyes closing in pleasure as he thrusted into your walls that only seemed to suck him in further and further. he was feeling so ecstatic. so high on your touch and presence that he was holding himself back from filling you up entirely.

you pushed your hips back, actions completely contradicting your own words as you kept tightening around jake with each whiny moan that fell past his bitten lips, “you know i can’t leave him..” you whined, head pressing against the lockers while jake leaned down, hovering his chest above your back.

“why is that, baby? is he remembering all your dates? shit- is he buying you all the jewellery you deserve, angel? i-is he fucking you as good as i am right now?” he bit against the shell of your ear, voice growing desperate, needy, ravenous just to hear you say the words he wants to hear. his satisfaction bubbling in his stomach when you shook your head to everything he groaned to you, denying each and every action that jake would’ve done for you in a heartbeat.

“no! no no he doesn’t— hmm he d-doesn’t- fuck! only you do!” you thrashed under his hold, hips jerking forward from his grip as your abdomen only tightened and tightened further. you felt so good. the stretch of his thick cock splitting you open burned so well. you loved having him so deep inside of you, leaking tip of his dick pressing and kissing all over your sweet spots that had stars spinning around your head.

he laughed breathlessly behind you, reveling in your praises and the way each word was only a further push into his inflated ego, he already knew all of this. he knew how shitty anton was treating you as he was too busy trying to make him jealous. he knew every and each move anton was trying to pull but none of it was going to work.

as he was too busy to study jake’s reactions to even realise that he had his own girlfriend cumming around his enemy’s cock so prettily. falling apart in jake’s embrace as jake only cooed and encouraged you even more. to cum more. to make a mess over his cock. to claim him as yours just as badly as he wanted to claim you as his.

and that’s exactly what you did, with the way his cock kept bullying its way back inside of your walls that continued to milk him for all he’s worth. relishing in the feeling of his hot cum filling you up with warm and thick ropes of his load, you continued to do what he wanted. forming a sheen ring of your combined juices around the base of his cock.

jake kept fucking into you, whispering words after words of praise hotly into your ear while your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. his hand let go of your hip to push in between your sticky inner thighs, fingers working deftly in rubbing circular motions onto your throbbing clit that only pulsed in need under his touch. “telling me to stop.. when she’s sucking me in this well.” he groaned, breaths getting caught in his throat as he felt hot white pleasure spreading all over his body.

“asking me to not fuck you… only thinking about your stupid boyfriend what about her then?” he slapped against your cunt, the wet sounds of his fingers landing on your wet, glistening skin had your mind reeling. “always so selfish not thinking about her.. oh but i always do. i can’t get this pretty cunt out of my head baby.” he shivered behind you, getting lost in the way you kept sucking him in due to his words.

the two of your bodies were moulding into one at this point, your flimsy panties that were pushed to the side with your skirt pushed upwards and jake’s shorts that were pooling by his ankles were the last of your concerns, him fucking you this good and this deep in the public space of your locker’s room was also discarded into the back of your head that was getting gradually fucked into subspace.

your senses heightened, only processing the feeling of jake’s swollen, pulsing tip kissing and pushing against your throbbing cervix that begged to be filled up with his cum over and over again, filled up to the brim as many times as jake could give to you till the two of your bodies gave out.

“you don’t actually want me to s-stop do you, baby?” his voice became shaky, matching your own shaky breathes as he bit against the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders. his hips began to grind against yours, thick swollen balls pressed against the curve of your ass as he barely pulled out an inch or two before stuffing you full of his cock. “t-think about her, princess.” he starts to slap against your pussy again, gentle wet slaps that echo embarrassingly loud in the empty locker’s room.

“telling me to pull out when she’s so greedy f’me?” he moans, chest heaving in deep gulps of breath as he kept holding his orgasm back, reminding himself to not cum before you again. “tell me baby, will he ever breed this pretty little cunt like i’m about to right now?” his hand that was gripping your hip dug his fingers into your plush skin further, leaving indents of his sharp nails behind while you mewled in pained pleasure at the sensation.

you loved it when he marked you, admiring all his marks whenever anton wasn’t home and hiding them away from his eyes, it made you feel excited. a rush of joy sparking in your stomach at the thought of these marks being a secret only you and jake knew about.

“n-no no.. he won’t, jakey he c-can’t!” you hiccuped, his favourite pet name spilling out while you felt your used, swollen pussy aching in pain and need. you felt so wasted, so febrile as your cunt only spasmed around him needily no matter how sore you already were feeling. and jake loved it so much when your body began to respond to him, reacting to every touch and contact made by him and he knew each response like the back of his hand.

he doubted if anton knew how to get your body like this too. flushed and burning in his hold, saturated pussy walls milking and squeezing him, salty droplets of sweat that dribbled down the back of your neck that he had no problem licking up. there was no way anton knew your body like he did.

he knew exactly which buttons to push and which parts to pull, just like how he knew that thrusting his hips so deep to the point where your cervix felt bruised while sneaking one of his hands under your shirt to tug at your hardened nipple and slither his other hand to wrap around your neck, pressing lightly just to make your head spin will have you unraveling again on his throbbing cock.

“there you go princess..” he breathed out, his own eyes rolling to the back of his head as your walls calmped down on him. cunt wrapping around his thick cock like a vice as you creamed and made a mess over his dick just how he liked it. “feels good, angel?” he spoke against the skin of your neck, hands now moving to grip onto his own locker door to stabilise himself. you nodded dumbly to his words. eyes closed as electrifying waves of euphoria twitched along your body.

“good baby.. so so good t’me.. you can take more can’t you now? my pretty girl?” he spoke over the approaching yells of anton, your name spilling past his lips as his eyes darted everywhere in the halls to find your figure. though he didn’t know why his feet led him into the hallway of the football team’s locker room, he just decided to not wonder about it too much.

and you might’ve not been able to hear him over the incessant ringing in your ears as you came down from your high that jake fucked you dumb towards but oh he heard it so clearly. the tone of desperation in his voice was like music to jake’s ears. this right here, was his chance. and he was going to take it no matter what happens.

“think you can take a bit more, princess?” he began to move his hips again, nasty, loud and squelching wet noises echoing in the locker’s room as he pulled in and out allowing a glistening, clear mixed with white mixture of both of your arousals to dribble past your inner thighs, he looked down at the sight of his veiny cock glistening in your syrupy juices. the locker room’s lights reflecting off your pretty stuffed cunt and his thick cock that disappeared between your dripping folds. god he could cum right now if he wanted to. but he still held back.

his hand moved onto your lower back, pressing slightly to bend you down more. deepening the arch of your back to make his cock slip past your drizzling folds, each thrust of his against your hips almost splattering your filthy wetness over your ass cheeks and his pelvis. he pulled his hips slightly back before ramming them forward again. the ridiculously wet noise in combination with your sinful moan made his muscles tighten.

his abs flexing as he lifted his shirt, tugging the hem of it between his teeth to allow the gushing combination of your juices to climb up his stomach, revelling in the way your pussy spurted out more cum, more squirt and more of your sweet syrupy nectar combined with his own on his skin. in a way he felt like you were marking him, rightfully staining your own territory and it made him feral.

“baby?” the distant yells of anton became closer and closer. the stupid pet name that he dared to call you made jake scoff. his jealousy, envy and all nastily negative emotions that swirlied within him made him fuck you harder. harsher. his length pulling at your walls, tugging against your sweet spots making you sob and wail his name, jake’s name in the locker’s room.

“who’s fucking you this good, princess?” he growled, drool dribbling past the corner of his lips as sweat rolled down his temples, the salty droplets finding purchase on his glowing skin before falling atop your shining one. “y-you! jakey.. fuck! oh my god- you you you!” you babbled on, if jake’s mouth was covered in drool yours was a mess. you salivated more and more as he bullied his cock inside of you, marking and moulding your insides to only fit his length. only recognise his dick and veins that decorated his cock.

“what’s my name baby? say it. yell it. scream it, princess. let them all hear who you belong to.” his shaking hand turned to land a harsh slap against your right ass cheek, palm burning at the aggressive contact of your soft skin with his making you cry even more under him. face almost pressed against the cool metal of the locker, pearly tears falling freely onto the wet puddle that the two of you had formed on the floor right between your legs.

“jakey!” you gasped loudly, vision blurry with both overstimulated pleasure and your own tears. a hot pounding forming in the back of your head as jake continued to fuck you stupid on his thick inches that dragged along your creaming walls, clenching and clamping down on him in cadence to his thrusts.

“that’s not my name, princess.” he frustratedly groaned, he was almost able to hear anton’s foot steps as they approached the locker’s room where he had you bent over and sucking in his cock like the perfect slut for him that you were. the slut that anton didn’t even know existed but jake had memorised like the back of his hand.

“d-daddy!” you choked out, swallowing back sobs as another orgasm washed over you, cumming so hard around jake’s cock while he continued to fuck into you, each squirt of your sopping pussy only encouraged him to push back into your cunt. “pushing me out now, is she?” he moaned, head thrown back in pleasure at the added pressure of your cunt both pushing him out and sucking him back in. making his head reel in ecstasy.

“say my name, baby. say it. who owns this fucking pussy?” he thrusted back, attempting to piston his mushroom tip against your sweet spots to make you see stars. “you do, daddy! you do!” mewling under him as your own nails began to dig into your skin. jake felt so much euphoria rushing deep in his veins at your words. the sound of your whiny voice mewling and moaning so sweetly for him while your body squirmed under his hold made him so happy. he had you exactly where he wanted.

at the best position for anton to see right when he walks past the door of the locker’s room.

“am i fucking this pretty cunt good, princess? want me to fill your cheating pussy up? knock you up so you have no choice but to stay with me and not your asshole of a boyfriend, hm?” he egged you on, knowing so so well that anton heard everything. the loud screech of his sneakers against floor of the hallway telling him everything he needed to know and god jake was on cloud fucking nine right now.

“gonna let me breed you? make you pregnant with my baby. have you all round and pretty carrying my baby so you’re mine forever.” he leaned down to kiss against your neck, his balls squeezing more tightly as he finally let go. allowing all the cum stored in them to push against your pretty cervix and womb. filling you up with his hot ropes of cum, knocking you up just how he wanted.

jake didn’t even mind the shocked gasp the fell past anton’s lips at the sight, too high. too drunk and wasted on the feeling of the way your pussy was sucking him in as he triggered another orgasm from you because of his own, he hummed at the feeling, soft whimpers falling past his lips while he held you close to him. god he was cumming so so much. filling you up to the brim so well you could feel his cum flooding your insides, filling up your swollen pussy and uterus so well. there was no way it didn’t take.

your drool was dribbling past your chin as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, jake grinding up against your ass to ride both of your highs out, his hand pressed against the bloated bulge in your lower stomach while broken sobs and whispers of his name made it to his ears. your body was so weak. so used and so utterly exhausted from the continuous fucking and breeding. “feeling tired, mama?” he whispered lustfully against your ear, peeking one eye towards the locker room’s door just in time to catch the faint sight of anton’s sneakers quickly disappearing behind the walls.

he smiled, satisfaction and happiness bubbling in his insides at the thought of finally having you. with no worries or concerns of anton. he felt so joyous. so relieved that you no longer had to deal with that asshole. he finally had you all to himself.

he kept his softening cock buried inside of you, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer before nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. you felt so soft, so nice and warm in his hands when you moved your hand back to tug at his neck, you turned your head back and connected your lips to his.

and just that action alone had jake’s heart bursting with love, he finally had you wrapped around his finger just how you had him for the longest time.

☆ YANG JUNGWON ⟡ 양정원

for yang jungwon, life had always been on easy mode. as if playing an easier, more smoother game of life with less bumps and obstacles in his path. everything almost moulded to his liking and every unfavourable decision changed for the sweethearted guy.

his life was nothing short than average— he was a remarkably good student, great president of his class. trusted tremendously by the teachers, very dearly loved by all animals— well okay maybe his life wasn’t that average.

but he just liked to believe that it was fate, or luck, one of those two didn’t matter which one but he did know that there was some other higher power that played an important role in all of his life events. as surely there was a reasoning behind every single thing that happens in his world.. or maybe not somethings are just meant to be the way the are.

much like his confusing rivalry with his number one public enemy, the guy that he would actually have no problem with killing if he could, haruto.

the hatred, dislike and absolute loath the two shared against each other was a mystery to not only the people surrounding them, but to their own selves as well. jungwon couldn’t pinpoint exactly when his relationship with haruto had began to bend incorrectly but as far as he remembers— it’s always been like that.

the two couldn’t stand each other to stay in the same room. throwing nasty glares at one another before turning their heads to spew hateful words. “this fucking asshole” “this stupid bastard” and their friends were used to it. no matter how many times they attempted to understand, to really know the reason as to just why there was so much ill dislike between them— they just couldn’t reach anything.

“because he’s a cocky son of a bi—“ “yeah okay i think that’s enough.” jungwon got cut off by his younger friend ni-ki when asked about his unexpected distaste towards haruto, no one bothered to figure out the weird and unexplained hostility between the two boys after that.

and for the longest time, with no interaction points between the two. everything seemed to be fine. both of their hearts calming down from beating so much hatred, mouths empty from nasty words and a calm and collected peace of mind for all parties.

but that didn’t last that long.

you see, jungwon wasn’t the best when it came to maintaining relationships— not in a cheating or unloyal kind of way. he just didn’t feel like he was reciprocating the same amount of effort and dedication he was receiving in a relationship, hence most of the ones he’s went through had reached their demise before they were able to fully bloom.

blame it on his busy schedule and duty filled routines, he just sometimes couldn’t push an entire romantic relationship to handle and be apart of into his life at certain periods.

something that haruto was clearly able to do. and god he did not let anyone hear the end of it, especially jungwon.

the problem wasn’t the fact that jungwon couldn’t keep a relationship anymore. jungwon had always wanted to be in one, to be loved and appreciated and doted on by someone he wholeheartedly trusted and saw a future with. he wasn’t afraid to love either. it was just the time factor that he wasn’t sure about giving. not the satisfactory amount for a lover atleast.

but for haruto to rub all of this into his face when he sat at a lunch table with his arm slinged around your hips as you gazed at him with hearts in your eyes? was a bit too much.

“that’s why you can’t keep a fucking relationship!” this sentence coming from haruto during another argument a mere two days later after seeing you two in the cafeteria? oh jungwon was fuming.

this was it. if haruto was so concerned about jungwon being unable to keep a relationship, why not just snatch away his?

which explains how you currently landed in this situation, laying sideways on his bed. one of his hands gently held your leg, keeping an open entrance for him to plunge his cock back inside of your wetness. he felt so ecstatic. so deep as he shoved his thick inches inside of your gummy walls. length exploring and massaging your insides so wonderfully you couldn’t help but moan so prettily for him, small praises tumbling past your lips. you were so dizzy in pleasure.

“feels good, precious?” he would mumble behind you, his own eyelids shut tightly at the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in greedily. a ravenous grip around the base of his cock that had him seeing stars. “s’good won.. f-fuck.. t’ feels amazing..” you huffed, pearly droplets of sweat shimmering prettily over your body as he rolled his hips up against your ass.

his thrusts were short, not too much power behind him as he was so drunk off of your pussy already. they were just right. pushing and kneading against your sweet spots so deliciously and making you bite you lower lip harsh enough to draw a metallic taste into your mouth. he was stuffing you so well. fucking you so good you couldn’t even think about anything else.

especially not the date with haruto you were supposed to be on like right now.

and jungwon knew about it. he knew so well exactly what haruto was planning to do on this date, which flowers he was buying and to which restaurant he wanted to take you to make up for the fact that he was an actual asshole just like jungwon had always known.

because what sane man would be mean to you? no matter how many times you tried to hide it from everyone’s eyes, jungwon knows that you’re not happy in your relationship with haruto. hell— he even got into a relationship to make him jealous in the first place. it wasn’t out of love or whatever lie he was feeding you.

no one except jungwon knew about the disgusting and degrading comments and names haruto would make about you. about his horrible manners and actions that would only make you question the whole purpose of this relationship, because love— what was known as the basis for every relationship, was clearly missing in this one.

but you were too attached to realise that, too used to being around haruto to consider anyone else. so what if he was rude to you? atleast he was your boyfriend. or well.. that was until jungwon walked into the picture, more like waltzed into your life.

“you feel so good around me, doll. milking my cock with this pretty cunt— fuuuck you’re so good to me.” he praised you on and on. mouth and tongue never getting tired from showering you with compliments, something drastically different from you were used to and it felt so nice. different, but a welcomed different.

you shyed away adorably from him, whimpering in his hold as tears sprung into your eyes from both the sensitivity of your cunt and your heart, he felt the way your walls tightened around him at his words. the feeling paired with your body turning warmer and your cute mewls made him coo in your ear. how cute can someone be?

he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that haruto had actually managed to score you. to date you out of all people. such a sweet souled woman that only deserved praise, love and affection. all things that jungwon couldn’t help but shower you with as you laid under him, taking his cock so well like a good girl. seriously how could haruto not treat you right?

though questioning haruto did become something jungwon gave up on ages ago. the only point he took away from that was if haruto is wrong about something, then there’s a very high chance that jungwon’s right.

and haruto was so so wrong about degrading you. treating you so poorly when all you needed were a few soft whispers of how well you were doing, what a pretty girl you were as you took his big cock in so sweetly to get you to glow more. to flourish right before his eyes when you bucked your hips back against his. eyes shutting in ecstasy while butterflies fluttered in your stomach. feeling so loved and appreciated in the arms of a man you knew would never hurt you.

jungwon was enamoured by you. drowning completely in adoration and love for you. you were so warm in his embrace, body so pliant and responsive to his every move. almost like you were made for his touch. made to allow his fingertips to burn along your skin as they trailed from your waist down to your leg.

so needy, so so desperate to feel him all over you. and he felt the same way. the urge to press his skin against yours, cover your body with his and mould both of them into one you couldn’t tell apart where he was ending and where you were starting, everything felt so hot. so warm so electrictifying as he fucked you open on his cock in a way you’ve never felt before.

“p-please.. leave him for me bunny..” he stuttered out, throat closing up when your walls clamped down on him at the sound of his voice so distant, an entire pitch higher and so debauched in you. you shook your head mindlessly at his words, unable to agree to them, haruto still held a small precious spot in your heart. you were still attached.

“you know he doesn’t deserve you, precious..” his chest heaved in heavy gulps of air, his own waterline aligning with tears as he desperately clawed at your body as if he was almost panicked at the thought of you not leaving. begging you to leave his own enemy and become his. he wanted you so bad. to call you his so bad. to claim you, to please you and to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.

and he could tell you wanted him just as badly. if your body language was anything to go by, he would think you were in love with him already. you were so good to him. felt so incredible around him he couldn’t help but feel his body floating in utter euphoria, pure ecstasy with you.

“i c-can’t.. i can’t do that won.. s’too mean..” you hiccuped, tears rushing down your pretty face making him coo, he slithered his other hand down your waist, middle and ring finger teasing your throbbing clit that pulsed with need. you were so close to the edge of your climax your eyes rolled back when he began to rub slow circles on your aching bud. almost matching them along with the rolls of his hips against yours.

he was fucking you so well. so good. teetering on the edge of complete pleasure as his heavy balls pressed against the wet curve of your ass with every motion. the sound so lewd and sinful it made your head spin with each smack! smack! everything felt too good. too much.

“don’t you think him not fucking this pretty cunt good is too mean, bun?” he laughed breathlessly, eyelids fluttering shut when his raging hot tip that leaked tremendous amounts of pre nudged against your cervix, you sobbed out incoherent words. mind turning into a puddle of mush in your skull as you were unable to process or think about anything other than jungwon’s dick fucking you open like this.

he nudged his nose against your ear, hand and hips picking up in speed to ram inside of your snug cunt that only seemed to suck him in further. sticky, glistening ropes of arousal connected his hips and pelvis to your ass cheeks that were covered in a white mess. you had lost count about the amount of times you’ve creamed on him now, and jungwon didn’t mind at all.

with your hot breaths fanning against one another, warm, sweaty bodies moving in cadence and your insides feeling so sensitive and sore, neither of you were able to pick up the echoing sound of your phone ringing on the bedside table. the call coming from none other than haruto.

“come to me pretty bunny.. leave him and- haah— shit.. come to me.” he moaned by your ear, finger incessant in rubbing against your clit and to coax out another orgasm out of you and another and another.

you were feeling so delirious at this point. having jungwon— a guy that your heart soared for fucking you and dragging out so many highs out of you while begging you to leave your asshole of a boyfriend was so.. intense. it was so much. way too much for your brain to comprehend.

“you know i-i can treat you better right?… so much better than him..” he whined, so lost on you, so gone and drunk on the flavour of you atop his senses. overtaking his every thought, his every idea, his entire brain and whole heart completely. and he loved it. as if hexed by a spell you casted upon him, he relished in it.

and you revelled in his attention, his love that he continued to rain on you, possessed by his presence and enchanted entirely. as if stuck under his hypnosis, the movements of his body against yours, his whispers of sweet words, sweet promises and dirty nasty things he would do to you if you were his had you hexed so so deep into his own spell. tangled in a passion dedicated to him and formed by him only.

you nodded in a lucid manner to his words, eyes droopy as they opened and closed with your vision blurry. you could barely pick up the way you were unraveling around his length again. gummy walls clamping down around the base of his cock for the nth time in the past few hours as you came so hard.

“just like that bun… cumming around my cock so good doll.. needy cunt sucking me in so so well.” he spoke deliriously, his own consciousness slipping away before he finally heard your ringtone. the thought of it being haruto made his inside twinge in excitement. his hand moved imperceptibly, wrapping his fingers around the device while you were still lost in your stupor of pleasure.

he glanced at the small screen and couldn’t help the wide cheshire grin that spread across his features at the sight of ‘haruto ♡’ this was it.

he quickly answered the call, lowering the volume to not have you hear his worries and apologies that instantly began to spill out the speaker. you were so caught up in your own high, eyes closed as jungwon kept rocking his hips against yours making you get stuck on subspace as he remained restless. not taking a second to stop and trapping you in a constant state of ecstasy. and you were loving every second of it.

“feeling good, baby bunny?” he asked loudly, unnoticeably switching the phone to his other hand that kept holding your leg up and lowering the speaker right against your cunt. making the wet smacking sounds, the slaps of his heavy balls against your ass echo in haruto’s ears as he felt his heart drop.

that voice. was too familiar for his liking.

“s’good won.. shit— feels s’good..” you babbled on, soft hands gripping roughly at his ruined bedsheets as there was almost a puddle forming between the two of your bodies, more cum more wetness more arousal seeping out of your fucked hole when jungwon would pull slightly out. a mere inch that will make his cum leak outside of your gummy walls before squeezing himself back in and god the sound was so filthy. so nasty as it echoed for all three of you.

“who’s making you feel this good, hm? tell me who’s filling up this pretty little greedy cunt, bun?” he bit against your ear, licking the shell of it sensually as the need and urge to devour you was just worsening with every second. he needed to feel you everywhere, taste you everywhere and touch you everywhere.

“you are— fuck! you’re making me feel so good.” you mewled under his hold. writhing in complete pleasure and ecstasy as he kept pushing his cock between your puffy and glistening folds. “what’s my name, my pretty bunny?” he whispered lewdly into your ear, his mere voice almost acting like an aphrodisiac for you. making you more needier and wetter for him.

“daddy! ngh daddy you feel s’good!” gasping his favourite name for him so loudly, unaware of the fact that haruto choked on his own spit at how slutty you sounded. voice almost an entire pitch higher and voracious. he felt his own pants tightening at the filthy sounds filling his ears. you never sounded like this with him hell— your room never sounded like this when you were with him.

“good girl.. such a good obedient little bunny for me, screaming her daddy’s name like the good bunny she is..” he kissed along your skin lovingly, dropping the phone onto the bed without a care if haruto had hung up or not, you were right in front of him and he wasn’t able to not give you his full attention. not when you sounded so slutty and needy for him.

he wrapped his arms around your waist, relishing in the way your cunt tightened and tightened around his cock as another orgasm washed over you, you sobbed his name, pretty little tears falling along his stained bedsheets as he switched the position.

he gently laid down your aching leg, the soreness of your body making you wince with the combined pleasure before he situated himself onto his knees. holding your thighs open just enough to see your ruined gaping hole leaking in front of him. the sight making his pulsating cock twitch before he pushed it back inside of you.

the two of you groaned in pleasure, both of you way past being gone. you were completely cock drunk while he was entirely pussy drunk. his mind spun with the way you still tried to suck him deeper, tight mushy walls milking his length and greedily clamping down on him. “f-fuck i’m s’close bun.. gonna let me cum inside of your slutty pussy, hm?” he breathed out. sweat rolling from his temples down his chest and even reaching his glistening, muscular thighs.

you buried your head against the pillow, mind completely high and lost on the way jungwon kept fucking you into subspace. nodding against the wet pillowcases as jungwon was almost about to push past your cervix. “that’s my girl.. my pretty little bunny letting me breed her pussy like this.” he groaned, his abdomen tightening further before he finally released the cum stored in his heavy balls that slapped noisily onto your inner thighs.

hot, long spurts of his cum webbed along your insides, filling you up to the brim and pressing right against your cervix. your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt your lower stomach almost bloating with his cum. he was releasing so so much. warm cum making your insides turn hotter as he kept fucking it back inside of you.

his groans and moans, whispers of your name and how good you felt barely reached your ringing ears, hell he couldn’t even hear his own words himself. his ears popping as he finally released the final spurts of his unusually prolonged and intense release before he dropped on top of you. caging your body beneath his.

he cracked one eye open, moving to look at the phone screen that just now closed as haruto finally hung up from the call. he noticed the way you were trying to catch your breath, slipping in and out of consciousness and took this as an opportunity to open your phone.

memorising your password as haruto’s stupid birthday, he quickly went through your home screen to find your messages. where he could already spot multiple notifications from his enemy.

haruto ♡: you fucking bitch

haruto ♡: how dare you fuck my own enemy out of everyone else

haruto ♡: i should’ve never trusted a whore like you

jungwon felt his eye twitching at the way he was texting you. anger rising up like along with the fatigue in his body before he tapped onto your keyboard

my love ♥︎: never text this number again you stupid asshole.

read

haruto ♡ is typing…

and before he could text another nasty message, he blocked his number for good.

now discarding your phone back onto the bedside table, he turned towards you littering your shoulders and exposed skin with affectionate kisses before whispering how much he loved you into your ears.

and at the end of the day, jungwon still took the one thing haruto kept teasing him for and shoving in his face. his beloved girlfriend.

a,note. yay :D ! quick karinasbaby comeback while i’m busy w uni, hopefully ill be able to post more soon if not pls know that im trying my hardest 😞 hope u enjoyed !!! ♡

2K notes · View notes

leaderwon · 6 months ago

Text

Maybe in another universe !?

enhypen members texts after you pass away

warnings : angst left and right, depression, sadness, mentions of death, cursing

(my other angst work, pls give it some love. Link)

3K notes · View notes

thatfeelinwhenyou · 9 days ago

Text

THE TATTOO ON MY RING FINGER — sim jaeyun

His neglect wasn’t an accident—it was a choice, one you kept excusing as “busy” while swallowing your hurt and waiting for him to care enough to show up. The harsh truth? He simply didn't care enough to make the effort. Remember this, ladies: if he truly wanted to, he would. "Busy" is just another word for “asshole.” And “asshole” is another word for the man you’re married to.

word count: 22k

pairing: ceo!jake x fem!reader

featuring: enhypen, wonyoung from ive

genre: marriage of convenience, slow burn romance, enemies to lovers (kinda), second chance romance, angst

warnings: this story contains dynamics of a toxic relationship, angst and miscommunication at its peak, sensitive power dynamics, mild depictions of violence, themes of loneliness and low self-worth, implications of infidelity (no actual cheating), rich people drama, jake is kind of an asshole, sunghoon and wonyoung are married in this fic for plot purpose.

disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. If any context is similar to any other stories, it's either inspired (in which credit will be given) or just a coincidence. the characters' personalities, words, actions and thoughts do not represent them in real life. any resemblance to any real life events or person, present or past, are purely coincidental. i apologise in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. characters are aged up for plot purpose.

notes from nat: inspired by when the phone rings cause i love the colour red /hj. highly recommended to read with the playlist i curated in order! without further ado, enjoy!

tags: #tfwy thetattooonmyringfinger #tfwy au

perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @grayscorner @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow @blurryriki @bobabunhee @hueningcry @fakeuwus @enhaslxt @neocockthotology @Starryhani @aishisgrey @katarinamae @mitmit01 @youcancometome @cupiddolle

taglist. @heeheeyeoiizz01 @heeweenie @ritahyelee @catlicense @sumzysworld @heartheejake @httpenhoon @dreamiestay @baedreamverse @arusio @ywrens @tinycatharsis @blockbusterhee @xocandypoo @jaengwon @yvnempire @enhaverse713586 @bamguetismee @renaishun @yunhoswrldddd @zyvlxqht @jaems-left-toe

They say if he’s not calling, it’s because you’re not on his mind. The first time you heard it, you shrugged it off. Of course, it wasn’t true. He was busy, wasn’t he? Busy with work, with meetings, with people who needed his attention more than you did in that moment. You told yourself it wasn't personal when the texts became shorter, when the phone calls grew less frequent, when the hours between hearing from him stretched into days.

But over time, the silence becomes heavier. The excuses, sharper. If he promised to be home by eight and didn’t show until eleven, it was work. If he forgot to call when he said he would, it was exhaustion.

You let these small disappointments settle into the cracks of your relationship, a habit you didn’t even notice forming until you could barely remember what it felt like to be a priority.

You tell yourself he’s under pressure, that he’s got a lot on his plate. But deep down, there’s a gnawing thought that won’t leave you alone: If he wanted to, he would. If he cared, he’d show up. Not just in the big moments, but in the small, forgettable ones—the ones that don’t require much but say everything. A text to check in, a call to ask how your day went. Something to remind you that you matter, that you still have a place in the life he leads without you.

But the truth settles in like a bitter cold creeping under your skin: he doesn’t think about you the way you think about him.

When he’s late, when he misses promises, when he leaves you waiting—it’s not a fluke. It’s a choice. And the more you excuse it, the more he learns that it’s okay to disappoint you, that your needs can always wait. He’s fine with it because he doesn’t have to feel the weight of your frustration, your sadness, your growing resentment.

"Busy" has become his favourite shield, his go-to excuse for everything. But “busy” is just another way of saying, "I don’t care enough." “Busy” is what he hides behind when he doesn’t want to confront the fact that he’s letting you down, over and over again.

And each time, you forgive him. Each time, you swallow your hurt, tell yourself it’s not a big deal, and convince yourself to wait a little longer for him to make the effort you’re aching for.

But deep down, you know. "Busy" is another word for “asshole.” And “asshole” is another word for the man you’re married to.

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

A marriage of convenience—that’s what you call this arrangement with Sim Jaeyun. It’s the only thing you can call it. Nothing about it feels real. No feelings. No chemistry. No intimacy. Just labels and the sweet, sweet promise of partnership, sweetened further by the monetary incentive that comes with it.

A deal dressed up as love.

At least, that’s how Jaeyun sees it. For you, it wasn’t always so simple.

You entered this marriage with no great love for him, true enough. Just a sense of duty and loyalty to your parents, to the company, to everything you’ve been raised to uphold as the eldest daughter of your family.

Jaeyun’s aloofness during your first meeting confirmed your suspicions that he felt the same. He was another child born with a silver spoon, another soul sacrificed to family ambition. Like you, he couldn’t complain about marrying someone he didn’t love because his parents had done it before him.

Putting aside the whole nature of your marriage, Jaeyun wasn’t a bad man.

In fact, he was decent. Polished. Accomplished. Sim Jaeyun had graduated summa cum laude from an Ivy League and, at twenty-eight, was already a legend in business circles.

They called him The Prodigy—a nickname that reverberated in the boardrooms of the elite. Women flocked to him, drawn by his sharp intellect, his undeniable charm, and, of course, his devastating good looks.

You’d rather bite your tongue than admit it, but he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Sim Jaeyun could make anyone’s heart race with just a glance. If you had to be forced into this sham of a marriage, at least you could say you were tied to someone who didn’t make you cringe every time you looked at him.

In the beginning, you played your roles so well that even you almost believed it.

To the press, to the public, you were the Dreamlike Couple. The perfect pair. You—poised and graceful, the epitome of elegance. Him—driven and magnetic, a man at the pinnacle of success. Together, you seemed untouchable, the kind of pairing that only existed in fairy tales.

It was a dream. For a time.

Marrying into the Sim family meant becoming the perfect housewife, a shadow to Jaeyun’s brilliance. Your days revolved around him—ensuring his comfort, supporting his exhausting nine-to-five (more like nine-to-midnight) grind.

And in return, Jaeyun played his part too. He brought you flowers, sat across from you at candlelit dinners, and whisked you away for picture-perfect dates on the rare weekends he wasn’t buried in work.

It wasn’t love, but it was enough. And slowly, against all your better instincts, you fell for him.

You fell for him—not all at once, but slowly, like the steady drip of a leaking faucet, each drop carving its way into your heart.

It was in the small, unexpected moments: the way his eyes softened when he asked if you were settling in well, the rare, fleeting smile that lit up his otherwise composed face, the quiet patience with which he listened when you nervously rambled about your day.

He was kind in ways that felt almost invisible, offering you a coat when you forgot yours, leaving your favourite coffee on the counter without a word, defending you in meetings with his parents when they criticised your choices. It wasn’t the grand gestures that pulled you in, but the subtleties—the way he seemed to remember the little things about you, like the books you loved or the songs that made you hum along absentmindedly.

You started to believe, naively perhaps, that behind the formalities and the distance, there was something real. Something that could grow.

And in those moments, you let your guard down, foolishly allowing hope to slip through the cracks of your carefully constructed defences.

But what started as a dream turned into a slow-brewing nightmare.

It took a year.

Just one year for the cracks in Jaeyun’s performance to show. Maybe he got tired of pretending. Maybe the strain of coming home to a wife he didn’t love became too much. Whatever it was, the distance between you started to grow.

The flowers stopped coming. The dinners grew silent, then ceased altogether. Dates became a thing of the past. The man who once made you feel like you were part of his world now barely acknowledged your existence.

You tried to rationalise it at first. He was busy, wasn’t he? Work was demanding. Meetings ran late. Deadlines piled up. Days would pass without a word from him.

But the excuses only held for so long. Because deep down, you knew. If Jaeyun wanted to, he would. If he cared, he’d find the time. He wouldn’t leave you sitting alone at the dinner table or waiting for a call that never came. He wouldn’t let the silence stretch until it swallowed what little connection you had left.

And yet, you forgave him. Over and over again. Each missed promise. Each broken gesture. You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that you could bear it. But with every disappointment you let slide, Jaeyun learned he could let you down without consequence.

Now, as you lie awake in the vast emptiness of your bed—yes, your bed, in your room, the one he rarely steps foot in anymore—you can’t help but wonder: Was it ever real? Did he ever try, even for a moment? Or had he always been this indifferent, just more skilled at masking it in the beginning?

Sim Jaeyun—the prodigy, the golden boy, the man you once dared to believe you could build a life with—has become little more than a stranger. A stranger who wears a ring that matches yours, yet feels worlds apart. And here you are, left holding the shattered pieces of a marriage that, in truth, was never whole to begin with.

You should’ve known, from the moment he slipped that ring onto your finger—a ring just a fraction too tight—that you were always going to feel suffocated. It was a perfect metaphor, really.

Now, every time you return home—whether it’s from mingling with the polished wives of his business partners, or from a solitary stroll in the park—you make a ritual of sliding the ring off, desperate to feel untethered, if only for a little while.

But no matter how many times you remove it, you can never truly escape him. Because the ring, with the way it pressed into your skin, leaves its imprint—a faint indentation that lingers long after it’s gone, marking you not as a partner but as a possession of the Sim family.

It feels like a cruel irony, that even without the ring, Sim Jaeyun’s grasp remains, his mark on you inerasable, etched into your skin and your soul like a tattoo.

The clock on the wall ticks steadily, mocking you with its rhythmic precision as the evening stretches into night. The once-flickering hope you’d clung to—that Jaeyun might remember this day—has long since withered, replaced by a familiar, hollow ache.

The dining table is set, the soft glow of candles casting shadows across the untouched plates. You’d debated with yourself earlier, wondering if it was worth the effort. But some stubborn part of you refused to let the day pass unnoticed.

After all, it’s your wedding anniversary. Even if Jaeyun doesn’t care, you do.

By the time the clock strikes eleven, the candles have burned low, the food long gone cold. You sit in the dim light, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, willing yourself not to cry.

When the front door finally opens, the faint sound of Jaeyun’s footsteps echoes through the house. He steps into the living room, his tie loosened and his hair slightly disheveled.

He looks tired—no, careless. He doesn’t even notice the table or the candles.

"You’re still awake?" he asks, his tone neutral, almost surprised.

You rise slowly, your voice calm despite the storm raging inside you. "It’s our anniversary, Jaeyun."

He freezes, his brows knitting together as if trying to recall something important. The blank look on his face confirms what you already knew. He forgot.

"Shit," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’m sorry. Work was crazy today. I didn’t—"

"Don’t," you cut him off, your voice trembling. "Don’t tell me it was work. Don’t make another excuse."

He looks at you, clearly unprepared for the edge in your tone. "It’s not an excuse. I was genuinely busy."

"Busy," you repeat, the word dripping with bitterness. "You’re always busy, Jaeyun. Too busy to call, too busy to show up, too busy to even remember the day we got married. Do you even care at all?"

His expression hardens, and he steps closer, his tone defensive. "Of course I care. But I have responsibilities, and I can’t just drop everything—"

"Responsibilities?" you snap, your voice rising. "What about your responsibility to me? To this marriage? Or does that come last, after work and meetings and everything else that apparently matters more than I do?"

"You act like I don’t try," he snaps, his tone sharper now. "I work my ass off to give us a good life, to make sure you have everything you need."

"I don’t need your money, Jaeyun!" you shout, your anger finally spilling over. "I need you! I need a husband who shows up, who cares, who remembers things that matter. But instead, I get this—this stranger who walks through the door whenever he feels like it and expects me to be okay with it."

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re overreacting."

The words hit you like a slap. "Overreacting?" you echo, incredulous. "You think I’m overreacting because I’m upset that you forgot our anniversary? Because I’m tired of being the only one who gives a damn about this marriage?"

His eyes darken, and his frustration boils over. "That’s because it isn’t real!" he snaps, his words slicing through the air like a blade.

You freeze, the weight of his admission sinking into your chest.

"This marriage," he continues, his tone sharp and unrelenting, "was never about love. It was a deal. You knew that going in. So don’t stand there acting like I owe you something I never promised."

His words hit you like a sledgehammer to the face, leaving you momentarily breathless.

"I knew what it was," you say, your voice shaking but steadying as the anger flares in your chest. "But I didn’t sign up to be treated like I’m invisible. I didn’t agree to be an afterthought, Jaeyun. I’ve been trying—trying—to make this work. And what have you done? You’ve shut me out. You’ve made it clear, over and over, that I don’t matter."

Jaeyun exhales harshly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn’t mean it like that," he mutters.

"Yes, you did," you say, your voice soft but cold. "And that’s the worst part. You meant every word."

The silence between you is deafening. Jaeyun doesn’t apologise, doesn’t take back what he said. He just stands there, his expression unreadable, as if waiting for the conversation to end.

Finally, Jaeyun exhales, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I don’t know what you want me to say," he mutters.

"I don’t want you to say anything," you reply, your voice quieter now but no less firm. "I want you to do something. But I don’t think you’re capable of that, are you?"

He doesn’t answer, and the silence feels like confirmation.

You swallow the lump in your throat, tears threatening to spill but held back by sheer force of will. "I don’t know why I keep hoping for more from you," you whisper. "You’ve made it clear that I’ll never get it."

Without waiting for his response, you turn and walk away, leaving him standing alone in the living room. The weight in your chest grows heavier with each step, but you don’t look back. Once inside your room, you close the door softly behind you, the sound somehow softer than the silence that follows.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you let out a shaky breath and yank the ring off your finger as if it’s searing your skin. It’s almost instinctual, the need to rid yourself of the weight of it—the reminder of promises that were never real. You clutch the ring tightly in your palm for a moment before tossing it onto the nightstand with a dull clink.

You stare down at your hand, at the faint imprint left behind, the tattoo burned into your ring finger. No matter how many times you take the ring off, the mark remains, mocking you with its permanence.

A bitter laugh escapes your lips as tears prick your eyes, the ache in your chest impossible to ignore. You press your hands to your face, trying to smother the sob threatening to break free.

Back in the living room, the faint crackle of dying candles echoes in the stillness. Jaeyun doesn’t follow. He doesn’t knock on the door, doesn’t call your name. He stays where you left him, as he always does, letting the silence speak for him.

The last candle sputters out, plunging the house into darkness. You lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, your chest hollow but your mind racing.

The ring is now firmly back on your finger, snug against the faint tattoo that refuses to fade.

You sit outside the café you frequent so often that the barista doesn’t even ask for your order anymore, simply bringing your tea the way you like it. The faint clink of ceramic against the table pulls you from your thoughts, and you wrap your hands around the warm cup, as if it can somehow melt the cold ache inside you.

You stir your tea aimlessly, watching the steam spiral into the cool autumn air. Across from you, Wonyoung sits with her usual effortless grace, her beige trench coat draped neatly over her chair, her gold earrings catching the soft light.

"Alright," Wonyoung begins, placing her cup down with a decisive clink. "Spill. You’ve had that look on your face all morning. What’s going on?"

You sigh, leaning back in your chair as the weight of her gaze settles on you. Wonyoung isn’t just your best friend—she’s family now, married to your brother, Sunghoon. That makes her one of the few people who can truly see through you, no matter how much you try to hide.

"It’s nothing," you mutter, though your voice betrays you.

"That’s a terrible lie, and you know it," she says, narrowing her eyes. "Is it Jaeyun again?"

The mention of his name sends a pang through your chest, and you glance away, focusing on the street outside. "It’s always Jaeyun," you admit quietly. "I feel like… I’m stuck. He doesn’t care, Wonyoung. About me, about us, about anything that isn’t his work or his image. Yesterday was the three year anniversary of our marriage. He forgot, and I don’t even know why I’m still trying."

Her jaw tightens, her usually soft expression hardening in a way you rarely see. "That bastard," she mutters under her breath, leaning forward. "You know, I’ve been keeping my mouth shut for months because I didn’t want to overstep, but I’m this close to calling him out. He doesn’t deserve you. Not even a little."

You try to smile, but it’s weak, and the ache in your chest doesn’t ease. "It’s not that simple," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "I signed up for this. I knew what it was. And he’s not awful, you know? He’s just… distant. Cold."

Wonyoung reaches across the table, her hand warm as it wraps around yours. Her grip is firm, grounding. "Listen to me," she says, her voice steady and fierce. "You deserve more than 'not awful.' You deserve someone who looks at you the way Sunghoon looks at me when I burn toast. Like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to them, no matter how messy or imperfect things get."

Her words bring a faint smile to your lips. You’ve always envied the dynamic between Wonyoung and Sunghoon—how they somehow balance each other perfectly. "You and Sunghoon," you say softly, "you make it look so easy."

Wonyoung chuckles, leaning back in her chair. "It wasn’t always like that. Do you remember how we met?"

You nod vaguely, but she doesn’t wait for an answer.

"It was at one of those insufferable charity galas," she says, rolling her eyes. "I was cornered by some overzealous CEO trying to pitch his latest venture, and Sunghoon swooped in out of nowhere, pretending we were old friends to rescue me."

A small laugh escapes you as you picture it. "Classic Sunghoon."

"Right?" Wonyoung grins. "I thought he was just being polite, but then he started showing up at every event I attended. At first, I thought it was a coincidence, but your brother isn’t exactly subtle."

"He’s not," you agree with a smile.

"One day, he asked me to dinner—no pretense, no excuse. Just, ‘Wonyoung, let’s go out.’ And… I don’t know. He wasn’t like the other guys. He didn’t treat me like some prize to win or a business deal to close. He just wanted me."

The warmth in her voice tugs at something in your chest, a bittersweet ache. "And the rest is history," you say softly.

"Not quite." Wonyoung smirks. "Do you know he proposed to me on the ice rink? He can barely skate, but he insisted on doing it there because I mentioned once how much I loved skating as a kid. He spent more time falling than kneeling."

The image of your brother—stoic, composed Sunghoon—fumbling on the ice (LOL) makes you laugh, the sound spilling out unexpectedly.

"That’s Sunghoon for you," you say, shaking your head. "Always dramatic."

"But always sincere," Wonyoung says, her expression softening. "And that’s my point. Love isn’t about grand gestures or perfection. It’s about showing up, every day, even when it’s hard. Jaeyun doesn’t do that for you, and it breaks my heart to see you settling for so little when you deserve so much more.

Her analogy draws a laugh from you, even if it’s faint. "It’s not like I can just leave," you say softly. "You know how our families are. It would be a scandal. And, honestly, what would I even do? This marriage is all I have right now."

"No," Wonyoung says sharply, her voice cutting through your doubt. "You are so much more than this marriage. And if Jaeyun or your family can’t see that, then screw them."

Her conviction startles you, and you blink at her, taken aback. Wonyoung is always poised, diplomatic, rarely letting her emotions boil over. But now her eyes burn with a protectiveness that makes your throat tighten.

"You know what you need?" she says, her tone softening slightly. "A break. Come stay with Sunghoon and me for a while. I’ll make him cook for us—he owes me after shrinking my favourite sweater last week."

You chuckle despite yourself, the image of Sunghoon fumbling in the kitchen almost absurd. "Sunghoon? Cooking? Are you trying to punish me?"

Wonyoung grins, mischief flickering in her eyes. "Okay, fine, I’ll cook. But seriously, think about it. You don’t have to keep carrying this weight on your own. I’m here. Always."

Her words settle over you like a blanket, warm and reassuring. Wonyoung has always been your safe haven, her loyalty a reminder that not everyone in your life sees you as a means to an end.

"Thanks, Wony," you say softly, giving her hand a small squeeze.

"Anytime," she replies, her smile warm and genuine. Then, with a dramatic sigh, she leans back in her chair. "Now, let’s talk about something that doesn’t make me want to hunt Jaeyun down and throttle him. Did you see the dress Jennie wore to that gala last week? Gorgeous, but the heels—ugh, pure torture."

You laugh, grateful for the change in topic. For the first time in what feels like forever, the weight on your chest feels lighter. Wonyoung chats animatedly, her presence a rare moment of warmth in the cold, suffocating reality of your life.

The house is quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock in the hallway. You sit curled up on the couch, a book open in your lap, though the words blur together as your thoughts wander. The faint scent of candles lingers in the air, remnants of a night spent trying to make this house feel like a home.

When the front door opens, you don’t look up immediately. Jaeyun steps inside, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor. You can hear him shrug off his coat and place his bag on the console table, his movements measured. He doesn’t call out for you, and you wonder if he assumes you’re already asleep.

It isn’t until he steps into the living room that you glance up. His tie is loosened, and his shirt is slightly wrinkled—a rare imperfection in the man who always seems so put-together.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice hesitant.

You close your book, setting it aside as you nod. "Hi."

Jaeyun stands there for a moment, his hands in his pockets, as if unsure how to proceed. The silence stretches, the weight of your last argument hanging between you like an unwelcome guest.

"Can we talk?" he finally asks, his tone tentative.

You sit up straighter, your heart tightening. "What about?"

He exhales, running a hand through his hair as he sits down on the armchair across from you. "About us," he says, his gaze flickering to yours. "About everything."

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, hope flutters in your chest. Maybe he’s ready to finally have the conversation you’ve been waiting for.

"Okay," you say quietly, folding your hands in your lap.

"I know I’ve been… distant," Jaeyun begins, his voice low. "And I know it’s been hard for you. For us. But I’m trying, I really am."

You nod, though the words feel empty, familiar in a way that makes your chest ache. "What does ‘trying’ mean to you, Jaeyun?"

He hesitates, his brow furrowing. "It means I’m doing everything I can to balance everything. Work, this marriage—"

"Work," you cut in, your tone sharper than you intended. "It always comes back to work, doesn’t it?"

Jaeyun frowns, leaning forward slightly. "It’s not just about work. You know how demanding my job is. It’s not like I can just drop everything."

"I’m not asking you to drop everything," you say, your voice trembling with frustration. "I’m asking you to show up. To put me first, just once. To prove that this marriage means something to you beyond a contract."

"I do care," he insists, his voice rising slightly. "Why do you think I work so hard? I’m doing this for us—for you."

"No, Jaeyun," you reply, shaking your head. "You’re doing this for you. For your image, for your career. Don’t pretend this is about us when you can’t even remember the last time you asked me how I’m doing."

He opens his mouth to respond, then closes it, his jaw tightening. "I’m trying," he says again, but it sounds more like a defense than a promise.

You lean back against the couch, the faint hope you felt earlier slipping through your fingers. "Trying isn’t enough," you say softly.

The words hang in the air, heavy and unrelenting. Jaeyun looks at you, his expression conflicted, as if he’s searching for something to say that will fix this. But instead, he leans back in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests.

"I have a big meeting tomorrow," he says finally, his tone almost apologetic. "But we can talk more after. Okay?"

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you look away. "Of course," you murmur. "After work."

Jaeyun flinches at the sarcasm in your voice but doesn’t argue. Instead, he stands, running a hand through his hair as he glances toward the hallway. "I’ll see you in the morning," he says quietly before walking away.

You don’t respond, your gaze fixed on the flickering candle on the coffee table. The room feels emptier than it did before he arrived, the silence colder, more suffocating.

The sound of his footsteps fades as he retreats to his office, leaving you alone with the oppressive quiet of the house. The weight of his absence feels heavier than the space he occupied just moments ago, pressing down on your chest.

You’re angry. Furious, even. The kind of anger that comes not from one isolated hurt but from countless small disappointments piling up into something unbearable. You feel wronged, neglected, like a ghost haunting a house that was never really yours to begin with.

To make matters worse, his words from yesterday night echo in your mind, sharp and cutting: "This marriage isn’t real."

And you’re reminded—again—of what you shouldn’t need reminding of. Jaeyun wasn’t wrong. This marriage, with its polished façade and perfect pretenses, was built on nothing but a deal. A contract. A partnership that never promised love, only convenience.

You shouldn’t be holding him to the vows he read off a script prepared by his secretary, each word meticulously chosen for the press release that followed your wedding. You shouldn’t be expecting more from him when you went into this deal without any expectations.

He’s right, as always. He always is.

You just hate to admit it.

You hate that you’ve let yourself forget the terms. Hate that you’ve let hope slip through the cracks and take root where it was never meant to grow. You hate that his indifference, while expected, still feels like rejection. And you hate that despite everything—despite the truth you’ve known from the beginning—you still feel like you’ve been betrayed.

Jaeyun didn’t lie to you. He didn’t promise anything he hasn’t delivered. You’re the one who strayed from the script, letting feelings creep in where they had no business being.

But even knowing that, the ache doesn’t fade. It settles deeper, rooting itself in your chest like a splinter you can’t quite remove.

It’s fake, you tell yourself again. But no matter how many times you repeat it, it doesn’t feel any less real to you.

The house feels colder now, the weight of Jaeyun’s indifference wrapping around you like a heavy fog. In the distance, you can faintly hear Jaeyun moving around in his office, his presence more distant than the sound of wind outside your window.

You sit on the couch, staring at nothing in particular, your thoughts circling back to the offer Wonyoung extended to you at the café.

It hits you like a revelation, though it shouldn’t. Some time away from Jaeyun, from this house, from the constant ache of trying and failing, might be exactly what you need. You exhale sharply, almost laughing at yourself. Geez, what took you so long to figure that out?

Before you can second-guess the idea, you pick up your phone and dial Wonyoung’s number. She answers on the first ring.

"Hey," she says brightly, as if she’s been waiting for your call.

"Is your offer still open?" you ask hesitantly, gripping the phone tighter.

"Of course it is," she replies without missing a beat. "When do you want me to pick you up?"

"Now?" you say, wincing slightly at how desperate you sound.

"Perfect," she chirps. "Give me ten minutes."

And she delivers, just as she always does. Not even ten minutes later, you hear the low purr of a car engine outside your gate. You peek out the window to see Wonyoung and her bright pink Porsche, the car gleaming under the streetlights. She’s leaning against the driver’s side door, sunglasses perched softly atop her nose, her effortless glamour making her look like she’s stepped out of a magazine shoot.

She waves when she spots you. "Come on!" she calls, her voice light but filled with purpose. "Grab your things and get in."

You hesitate for a moment, glancing back at the house. It’s quiet, the kind of quiet that feels heavy, oppressive. You don’t even know if Jaeyun has noticed you’re still sitting out here, much less that you’re about to leave.

Shaking off the thought, you grab an overnight bag you’d hastily packed and head out. As you reach the car, Wonyoung slides her sunglasses down slightly to look at you, her expression softening.

"You don’t have to explain anything right now," she says, opening the passenger door for you. "Just get in."

You slip into the car, the plush leather seats a stark contrast to the cold, hard reality you’ve been living. As soon as you’re buckled in, Wonyoung cranks up the music—a pop song you vaguely recognise—and pulls away from the gate with a flourish.

"You did the right thing," she says after a moment, glancing over at you. "Sometimes, you just need space to see things clearly."

You nod, though the knot in your chest hasn’t quite loosened. Still, as the familiar streets blur past and Wonyoung’s confident energy fills the car, you feel the faintest flicker of relief.

The soft hum of the kettle fills Wonyoung and Sunghoon’s kitchen, blending with the faint sound of rain tapping against the window. Wonyoung hums as she busies herself making tea, while you sit at the counter, wrapped in a blanket she insisted you take the moment you arrived. It’s warm here—not just from the heater, but from the unmistakable feeling of being cared for, a sensation you’ve been starved of for far too long.

"I swear, this house is the only place where I don’t feel like I’m suffocating," you admit softly, watching the steam curl up from your cup.

"You’re always welcome here," Wonyoung says, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Even if Sunghoon pretends to be annoyed, you know he loves having you around."

The sound of footsteps descending the stairs interrupts her, and Sunghoon appears in the doorway, his hair damp from a shower. His sharp features are set in an expression of irritation that immediately reminds you of how he looked when you were both kids and he’d caught someone picking on you.

"You’re staying the weekend, right?" Sunghoon asks, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe.

You hesitate, fiddling with the edge of your blanket. "If it’s okay. I don’t want to impose—"

"Impose?" Sunghoon cuts you off, his voice firm. "You think you’re imposing by needing space from that asshole? Please. Stay as long as you want."

You wince slightly at his tone. Sunghoon rarely speaks about Jaeyun directly, but you know he’s never approved of how distant your marriage has become. And now, with you physically seeking refuge in his home, it seems his patience has run out.

"Sunghoon," Wonyoung warns gently, though she’s clearly on your side.

"No, babe, she needs to hear this," Sunghoon says, stepping closer. His dark eyes meet yours, softening just slightly. "You deserve so much better than how he treats you. I’ve kept quiet because I thought maybe he’d figure it out, but he hasn’t. And I don’t know what it’ll take for you to realise that you’re too good for him."

"Sunghoon," you mumble, feeling a lump rise in your throat.

"You’ve given him everything," he continues, his voice tight with anger, "and what has he done? He keeps you at arm’s length, barely puts in the effort, and makes you question your own worth. If he can’t see how incredible you are, then screw him."

"Sunghoon, that’s enough," Wonyoung says firmly, though her eyes flick to you with concern.

Sunghoon exhales, running a hand through his hair. "I’m sorry," he mutters, his tone softening. "I just… I hate seeing you like this. You’re my sister. I’m supposed to protect you."

You blink rapidly, fighting back tears. "I know," you whisper. "And I appreciate it. But it’s complicated."

"It doesn’t have to be," he replies, his voice low.

Before you can respond, your phone buzzes on the counter. The screen lights up with a notification, and your stomach twists when you see the name: Jaeyun.

Wonyoung leans over, glancing at the screen. "Let me guess," she says dryly. "He’s just now noticing you’re not home."

You bite your lip, hesitating before picking up the phone. The message is short, as always.

Jaeyun: Where are you?

It’s not the words that make your chest tighten, but the tone you imagine as you read them—detached, almost transactional. There’s no concern, no affection. Just a question, as if you’re a misplaced item he needs to locate.

Sunghoon notices your reaction immediately. "What did he say?" he asks, his voice sharp again.

You hold up the phone, showing him the message. His expression darkens, and Wonyoung sighs, placing a hand on his arm.

"Don’t," she says softly.

"I’m not going to text him," Sunghoon snaps. "But if he thinks he can just demand to know where she is after everything—"

"Sunghoon, please," you interject, your voice shaky. "It’s fine. I’ll… I’ll handle it."

"No, it’s not fine," he says firmly. "But I get it. Just don’t let him guilt you into going back before you’re ready, okay?"

You nod, though your fingers tremble as you type out a response.

You: I’m staying at Sunghoon’s for the weekend.

It feels like a small act of defiance, but even hitting send makes your heart race. You place the phone face down on the counter, half-expecting an immediate reply.

"Good," Wonyoung says, her voice gentle. "Let him sit with that. He needs to know you’re not going to drop everything for him anymore."

"She’s right," Sunghoon adds. "And if he tries anything, you know I’ll handle it."

"If our parents finds out you’re always trying to start shit with Jaeyun, they’d be furious," you half-joke, swirling the tea in your cup. There’s a thin thread of humour in your voice, but it’s tied to a hard truth you both know too well. Your parents owe their entire business to the Sim family.

At the edge of bankruptcy, your marriage to Sim Jaeyun had been the final card they could play, a lifeline they clung to when everything else was crumbling. It worked, of course. The Sims, with their wealth and power, lifted your family’s business from ruin.

And in this, as in so many other things, you lose to Sim Jaeyun.

Be it in this sham of a marriage, in the tenuous stability of your family’s finances, you know the Sims don’t need you. Not really. Not as much as you need them.

Sunghoon leans back in his chair, his expression darkening. "You know I never agreed to marrying you off to that family, despite the consequences," he says, his voice low but resolute.

"I know," you reply softly, your gaze falling to your cup. "You got into a huge fight with Father over it. But you also know I’d do it anyway, even if you tried to stop me."

"Unfortunately, you’re as stubborn as a mule," he mutters, though his tone is fond. He exhales sharply, his brow furrowing. "But I hope you know you’re not tied down to this marriage anymore. Our family’s doing significantly better than it was three years ago, with or without the Sim backing us up. You can divorce him, if you want to."

The words hit you harder than you expect. Divorce. You’ve thought about it in the quiet corners of your mind, but hearing Sunghoon say it aloud feels different. It feels real.

"I’ll… sit on it," you say after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon studies you carefully, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. He knows you too well, knows that even though Jaeyun pretends you don’t exist most of the time, you’re still hanging onto that faint, stubborn hope that things might go back to how they were in the beginning. Even if you can’t admit it to yourself.

He doesn’t push. He simply nods, leaning forward to rest a hand on your shoulder. "Just remember, you’re not alone in this," he says firmly. "Whatever you decide, I’ve got your back."

You manage a small smile, the lump in your throat easing slightly. For the first time in a long while, you feel supported—truly supported.

As the rain continues to patter against the windows, Wonyoung pulls you into a conversation about dinner plans, her voice light and teasing as she asks Sunghoon to attempt making something edible for once. The tension in the room softens, and for a brief moment, you let yourself breathe.

Your phone buzzes faintly on the table, and your heart skips when you see Jaeyun’s name. The message isn’t anything special—nothing more than a curt reply to the one you sent earlier. It’s impersonal, distant, but you tell yourself it’s enough.

At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself.

The house is eerily quiet when you step inside, the echo of your keys hitting the console table filling the space. You kick off your shoes and glance around, expecting the usual stillness of a house that’s more empty than lived-in. Jaeyun should already be at work. It’s Monday morning, and his schedule is usually airtight at the start of the week.

You place your weekend bag by the stairs, your chest feeling lighter than it has in months. The time with Wonyoung and Sunghoon had been a breath of fresh air, a reprieve from the weight of this house and everything it represents.

But as you make your way toward the kitchen, something feels… off.

The air is heavy, and there’s no sign of the usual orderliness Jaeyun insists on. A mug sits abandoned on the counter, and his shoes are still by the door—things that wouldn’t be there if he’d left for the office.

Curious, you make your way upstairs, the faintest sense of unease prickling at your skin. The door to Jaeyun’s room is slightly ajar, and when you push it open, your breath catches.

He’s there, lying in bed, his usually impeccable appearance replaced by disheveled hair and a pale complexion. The blanket is pulled up to his chin, and the faint flush on his cheeks tells you everything you need to know.

He’s sick.

"Jaeyun?" you say softly, stepping into the room.

He stirs at the sound of your voice, his eyelids fluttering open. His usual sharp gaze is dulled, clouded by fever. "You’re back," he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

"I thought you’d be at work," you say, approaching the bed cautiously.

He lets out a weak chuckle that quickly dissolves into a cough. "I tried," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Made it as far as the shower before I gave up."

For a moment, you’re not sure what to do. This is new territory for both of you. But then something shifts inside you, something instinctive. You sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to press the back of your hand to his forehead.

"You’re burning up," you say, frowning. "Why didn’t you call someone?"

"I didn’t think it was that bad," he mutters, closing his eyes again.

You sigh, standing up and glancing around the room. "Stay here. I’ll be back."

His lips twitch, almost as if he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you leave, his usually stoic expression softening ever so slightly.

You return a few minutes later with a damp cloth, a glass of water, and the medicine you keep stocked in the kitchen. Jaeyun doesn’t protest as you sit beside him again, carefully pressing the cloth to his forehead.

"You don’t have to do this," he says, though his voice lacks conviction.

"I know," you reply simply.

He watches you for a moment, his gaze softer than you’re used to. "Thank you," he murmurs.

You nod, focusing on your task. There’s a quiet intimacy in the moment, the kind you haven’t felt in a long time.

As you help him sit up to take the medicine, his hand brushes against yours, and for a second, neither of you moves. It’s such a small, fleeting thing, but it feels monumental in the stillness of the room.

"You’ve done this before," he says suddenly, his voice tinged with curiosity.

You raise an eyebrow. "Taken care of someone who’s sick? Of course."

"No," he says, shaking his head slightly. "You. You’re… good at this. Gentle."

The comment catches you off guard, and you glance away, busying yourself with adjusting the blanket. "It’s nothing," you say quietly.

But Jaeyun doesn’t let it drop. "It’s not nothing," he says, his voice softer now. "I don’t think I’ve ever noticed that about you before."

The words hang between you, and for the first time in years, you see something in his expression that isn’t indifference or frustration. It’s gratitude.

"Rest," you say, deflecting the moment as you stand. "I’ll check on you later."

"Wait," he says, his voice stopping you in your tracks.

You turn, surprised. "What?"

"Will you… keep me company?" he asks, his tone hesitant. "Just for a little while."

Your heart clenches, and despite everything, you nod. "Okay."

You sit back down, leaning against the headboard as Jaeyun closes his eyes, his breathing evening out. For a while, you watch him, the tension in his face melting away as sleep takes over.

And in that quiet moment, with the soft hum of the rain outside and the warmth of his presence beside you, something shifts.

You open your eyes to find yourself tucked into the comforter of a bed you never thought you’d ever lie in again. The unfamiliar weight of the blankets is warm against your skin, but it takes a moment for you to orient yourself. The room is dim now, the last traces of sunlight gone, replaced by the faint glow of the bedside lamp.

The house is silent, and most notably, Jaeyun is no longer where you left him.

A faint pang of concern rises in your chest as you sit up, running a hand through your hair. He was feverish just hours ago, barely coherent. The fact that he’s no longer in bed is enough to pull you out of the comfort of his room.

You step into the hallway, glancing around. The living room is just as still and empty as it was when you first returned this morning, the silence almost oppressive.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot it: the familiar glow spilling out from under the door to Jaeyun’s office.

You narrow your eyes. Don’t tell me…

You walk toward the door, heart sinking with every step. Pushing it open slightly, you find him perched over his laptop, his face illuminated by the screen. His fingers move swiftly across the keyboard, his focus unbroken. He didn’t even bother changing out of the clothes he slept in, the faint flush on his cheeks a reminder that he’s still sick.

"Jaeyun," you say, your voice sharper than you intended.

He startles slightly, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. For a moment, he looks almost guilty, but the expression is fleeting. His face hardens, and he’s back to his usual self—detached, dismissive.

"What are you doing?" you demand, stepping into the room. "You should be resting."

"I’m fine," he replies curtly, his attention already shifting back to the screen.

"You’re not fine," you retort, your frustration bubbling over. "You had a fever this morning. You could barely sit up. And now you’re here, working as if nothing happened?"

He doesn’t answer, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" you ask, your tone softening despite your anger. "Why can’t you just take a break for once?"

"Because I don’t have the luxury of taking a break," he snaps, his voice sharp. He glances at you briefly, his eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place. "Not everyone can afford to stop when things get difficult."

You flinch at his words, but you refuse to back down. "You’re not invincible, Jaeyun. You’re sick. Pushing yourself like this is only going to make it worse."

For a moment, he says nothing. Then, with a heavy sigh, he closes his laptop and leans back in his chair. His face is pale, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced in the harsh light of the office.

"Why do you care?" he asks quietly, his voice devoid of its usual edge.

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. Why do you care? After everything, after the distance and the arguments, why do you still feel this pull toward him?

"Because someone has to," you say finally, your voice steady. "And whether you like it or not, that someone is me."

He blinks, clearly not expecting your answer. His expression softens, the usual mask of indifference slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the man he used to be—or maybe the man he still is, buried under all the walls he’s built.

"Come on," you say gently, nodding toward the door. "You need to lie down."

To your surprise, he doesn’t argue. He stands slowly, wincing slightly as he stretches. As he follows you out of the office, the silence between you feels less heavy, less hostile.

Back in his room, you watch as he climbs into bed, his movements sluggish. You adjust the blankets around him, your hand brushing against his briefly.

"You’re stubborn," you say softly, a faint attempt at teasing.

He lets out a weak chuckle, closing his eyes. "Takes one to know one."

You smile despite yourself, stepping back toward the door to give him space. But before you can leave, his voice stops you.

"Stay," he says quietly.

You freeze, your hand still on the doorframe. “So I can find you missing again when I wake up?” You joke, but you know it got lost on him when you spot the hint of guilt that colour his face.

"Just… stay," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes open, and for a fleeting moment, you see something vulnerable in his gaze.

You hesitate, your mind racing. Despite the years of being his wife, despite all the public pretenses and shared spaces, Jaeyun has never asked you to stay—not like this.

"Okay," you say finally, your voice soft. You move back toward the bed, sitting gingerly on the edge, unsure of what to expect.

Jaeyun shifts slightly, making space for you. "Lie down," he murmurs, his tone almost… tender.

You blink at him, stunned, but something in his expression—tired, open—compels you to obey. Slowly, you lie down beside him, careful to keep a polite distance. The room is quiet, the sound of your breaths the only thing breaking the stillness.

But then you feel it.

His arm snakes around your waist, tentative at first but firm as it settles. You inhale sharply, your body stiffening under his touch. Despite being his lawfully wedded wife, whose only purpose, it seems, is to sit there and look pretty, Jaeyun has never once touched you—not like this. Not in an intimate setting. Not at all.

"Jaeyun," you whisper, your voice catching.

"Don’t," he interrupts softly, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "Just… let me. Just for a moment."

You don’t move, your heart racing as the weight of his arm presses against you, grounding you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. His warmth seeps into you, a stark contrast to the cold distance you’ve grown so accustomed to.

For a long while, neither of you speaks. The silence stretches, but it isn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it feels like something fragile and unspoken is passing between you, an unsteady bridge forming where there had only been a chasm before.

"Thank you," he murmurs finally, his breath warm against your neck.

"For what?" you ask, your voice barely audible.

"For being here," he replies simply.

You close your eyes, your hand hovering uncertainly before resting lightly on top of his. "Get some rest, Jaeyun," you say softly.

His hold on you tightens ever so slightly, and for the first time, you let yourself lean into his touch. As Jaeyun’s breathing evens out and the warmth of his presence lulls you into stillness, you feel something unexpected stir in your chest.

Not hope, not yet.

You tell yourself not to expect too much. This could just be a one-off thing, and it’ll go away just as quickly as it came, disappearing like so many other fragile glimpses of something more in your marriage.

Still, you stay still, letting the warmth of his touch seep into you, even as your mind tries to brace itself for the inevitable return to indifference. You tell yourself this means nothing—it’s just circumstance. He’s disoriented, caught off guard by his own vulnerability.

But then your gaze drifts downward, and you find yourself puzzled. His left hand covers your own, his touch firm yet gentle, and you’re struck by the sight of his wedding ring etched tightly around his finger. The gold band catches the faint glow of the moonlight outside, its presence so sure, so constant, as if it’s always belonged there.

Your eyes drop to your own hand. The ring you once wore is absent, likely discarded at some point when you returned home earlier, leaving only the faint tattoo etched into your skin.

His fingers shift slightly, and you feel the rough edge of his thumb trace over the spot where your ring used to sit. The action is subtle, almost unconscious, but it makes your heart race.

Does he realise what he’s doing? Is it just a fever-driven habit, a thoughtless gesture? Or is there something more to the way his touch lingers there, his warmth seeping into the empty space where a symbol of your bond once rested?

You glance at his face, but his eyes are closed, his breathing soft and steady. He looks peaceful, almost childlike, so far removed from the sharp, composed man you know him to be.

You let out a slow breath, your heart conflicted. This moment feels too fragile, too fleeting, to hold onto. And yet, the weight of his hand over yours, the brush of his thumb against your tattooed ring finger, lingers in a way that’s impossible to ignore.

Don’t expect too much, you remind yourself, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against the pillow. But even as sleep pulls you under, the thought remains, a quiet whisper in the back of your mind.

The soft glow of morning light filters through the curtains, and you stir, slowly coming back to consciousness. Your first thought is that the bed feels strangely warm, a comforting weight anchoring you to the mattress.

Your second thought is that Jaeyun is surely gone by now.

But when you blink your eyes open, you’re surprised to find him still there, lying beside you. His head is propped up on one hand, his eyes watching you with an unusual softness. He’s awake, fully present, and for a moment, you think you might still be dreaming.

"You’re still here?" you mumble, your voice thick with sleep.

He smirks faintly, though there’s a gentleness in his expression that you can’t quite place. "Good morning to you too," he says, his tone light.

You push yourself up slightly, propping yourself on your elbows. "I thought you’d be gone by now. Off to work or something."

He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. "I figured you’d think that," he says, his gaze steady on yours.

"Am I wrong?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. Then, his lips twitch into the faintest smile, and he says, "I wanted to prove you wrong."

You blink, caught off guard by his words. "Prove me wrong about what?"

"That I’d be gone when you woke up," he says simply. "I know that’s what you expected. I wanted to stay… just this once."

His honesty takes the air from your lungs, and you find yourself staring at him, searching his face for some kind of ulterior motive. But all you see is sincerity, an openness that feels so unlike him it almost makes you uncomfortable.

"Why?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugs, his expression faltering slightly. "No reason.”

The words hang between you, fragile but significant. You don’t know how to respond, your heart warring with a mix of emotions—hope, skepticism, confusion.

"Jaeyun," you begin, your voice uncertain, "are you—"

"Don’t read too much into it," he interrupts gently, his gaze shifting away for a moment. "I just… wanted to be here. It’s the least I can do in return for taking care of me last night. That’s all."

You nod slowly, unsure of what to say. It feels like there’s more he isn’t saying, but for now, you let it be.

"Well," you say, clearing your throat to break the tension, "you succeeded. I didn’t think you’d still be here, but you are."

He smiles faintly, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to make your chest tighten. "Good," he says, his tone soft.

The two of you lapse into silence, the morning light growing brighter as it fills the room. Strangely, the quiet between you isn’t heavy or suffocating—it’s almost comfortable.

And that scares you.

The late morning sun filters through the curtains, casting soft streaks of light across the living room. You’re perched on the couch, a mug of tea warming your hands, and for once, the house doesn’t feel so empty. It’s quiet, but not the cold, distant kind of quiet you’ve grown used to. This quiet feels… peaceful.

Jaeyun is in the kitchen, rummaging through drawers in search of something. The sound of clinking silverware drifts into the living room, and you can’t help but smile faintly at his muffled muttering.

"You’ve been in there for ten minutes," you call out. "What are you looking for?"

"Nothing," he replies, his tone nonchalant, though it’s clear he’s lying.

A moment later, he emerges with a slightly triumphant expression, holding up a mismatched pair of chopsticks. "Found them."

You raise an eyebrow. "Were we missing chopsticks?"

He shrugs, sitting down beside you on the couch. "Apparently. But not anymore."

It’s such a mundane moment, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, and yet it feels monumental. Jaeyun—your distant, often aloof husband—sitting beside you, chopsticks in hand as if this is the most natural thing in the world.

"So," you say, tilting your head to look at him, "you’re really not going to work today?"

He leans back against the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Called in sick," he says simply.

Your eyes widen slightly. "You did what?"

He glances at you, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "You heard me. Just one day. I figured the world wouldn’t end if I wasn’t at my desk for twenty-four hours."

The admission surprises you more than you’d like to admit. "You? Calling in sick? Are you sure you’re not actually still feverish?"

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "I just… thought it might be nice to stay home. Spend the day here."

The words are casual, but they hit you with unexpected weight. He doesn’t say it outright, but you can tell he means with you.

The day unfolds in a series of small, quiet moments.

You make lunch together—or rather, you try to make lunch while Jaeyun critiques your cooking with a faint smirk that earns him a flick of flour to the face. He retaliates by stealing a bite of your eggs before it even makes it to your plate.

Later, you find yourselves sitting on the floor, a forgotten deck of cards between you. The game dissolves into laughter when Jaeyun’s competitive streak makes him accuse you of cheating, though you both know he’s just annoyed that you’re winning.

At some point, he drags you to the couch, insisting you watch an old movie he loves. The two of you sit side by side, shoulders brushing, as the black-and-white film flickers across the screen.

The golden hues of sunset stream through the kitchen windows as you both sit at the table, sipping tea after finishing the leftovers from lunch. The warmth of the day still lingers in the air, wrapping around the two of you like a cocoon.

As you lean back in your chair, savoring the moment, Jaeyun suddenly tilts his head, his gaze dropping to your hand.

"Where’s your ring?" he asks, his tone casual, but his eyes sharp.

Your heart skips a beat. The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you freeze.

"My ring?" you repeat, stalling for time as your mind races.

"Yeah," he says, his gaze still fixed on your bare finger. "You’re always wearing it. Did you take it off for something?"

"I… I must’ve left it in the bathroom," you blurt out, forcing a smile you hope looks convincing. "Probably when I was washing my hands earlier."

He raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "In the bathroom?"

"Yeah," you say quickly, nodding as you avoid his gaze. "I’ll grab it later."

Jaeyun doesn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes lingering on you longer than you’d like. The air feels heavier, and you’re painfully aware of how obvious your lie probably sounds.

Finally, he leans back in his chair, shrugging slightly. "Don’t forget it," he says, his tone light but his words carrying an undertone you can’t quite place.

You nod, forcing yourself to relax. "Of course."

But as the conversation shifts and the moment passes, the weight of his question lingers. You glance down at your hand, at the faint tattoo where your ring should be, and a wave of guilt prickles at the edges of your thoughts.

It’s not like you haven’t taken it off before. In fact, you do it almost every day when you’re at home. It’s become something of a ritual—the first thing you do after stepping through the door. You slip the ring off your finger and leave it somewhere out of sight, free from its weight, if only for a little while.

The cool metal feels foreign against your skin most days, its presence a constant reminder of what your life is—or isn’t. You never think twice about leaving it behind when you’re within these walls. Here, there’s no one to see, no one to judge, no cameras waiting to catch a fleeting moment that could spiral into something scandalous.

When you’re not out and about, it feels pointless to keep it on. The ring, for all its shine, doesn’t mean much in the confines of this house. It’s more for show, a symbol of an agreement carefully constructed to protect your family’s image and his.

Not a promise. Never that.

At least, that’s what you’ve told yourself. The habit of slipping it off has become so second nature, so tied to the quiet rebellion you allow yourself in these small, insignificant moments.

And yet, when Jaeyun notices its absence today, it feels like the weight of it hasn’t truly left you. As if even without wearing it, the ring leaves its mark in more ways than one.

He’s never noticed before—or if he has, he’s never said anything. So why now? Why today, of all days, when things between you feel… different?

Unlike you, he never seems to take it off. It’s always there, snug around his finger, as if it belongs. The sight of it used to annoy you—how he could wear it so easily, without it seeming to weigh him down.

Now, you’re not sure how it makes you feel.

You run your thumb over the faint tattoo on your ring finger, and force yourself to look away. It’s just one day, you remind yourself again.

Just one day where things feel lighter, less complicated.

But you can’t help wondering if Jaeyun’s question meant more than he let on. And you can’t shake the feeling that this small, seemingly insignificant detail might mean more than either of you are ready to admit.

And like every other time you think things might start changing for the better between you and Jaeyun, you’re reminded once again why you don’t hope.

Jaeyun goes back to his old ways, the distance between you returning like a shadow that never truly left. It feels like déjà vu.

You can’t help but wonder how one person can do such a thing—be kind and leave you helplessly yearning for one day, only to completely pretend you don’t exist the next. It’s as if he’s perfected the art of making you feel like you matter, just enough to keep you tethered, before yanking it all away again.

He’s gone before you wake up, and by the time he comes home, it’s well past dinner, the faint smell of his cologne mingling with the crisp air he brings in from the outside world. There’s no more lingering conversations, no more stolen glances or hesitant touches. It’s as though the day you spent together was a dream you woke from too soon.

You try to tell yourself it doesn’t hurt, but it does. Every time he brushes past you without a word, every time his focus remains glued to his phone or laptop instead of on the life you’re supposed to be sharing, it stings.

One evening, as he’s seated at the dining table with his laptop, his face illuminated by the cold, blue glow of the screen, you bring it up.

"There’s a charity gala being held by the Park family this weekend," you say, your tone light, careful. "We’re expected to attend together."

He doesn’t look up, his fingers tapping steadily at the keyboard. "Hmm," he mutters absently, his tone distant.

You suppress a sigh, leaning against the counter. "It’s important, Jaeyun. The Parks have always been close to your family, and you know how much these events matter to them—and to us."

"I’ll see if I can make it," he replies, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"See if you can make it?" you repeat, a note of irritation slipping into your voice. "It’s not a suggestion, Jaeyun. We’re supposed to go together."

He pauses for a fraction of a second before resuming his typing. "I’ll try," he says, his tone flat.

You swallow the lump in your throat, nodding even though he isn’t looking. "Alright," you murmur, retreating to the safety of your room.

But deep down, you already know how it will play out. He won’t come. You’ll stand alone at the gala, wearing a practiced smile while the whispers swirl around you. And when you return home, he’ll have some excuse waiting, polished and hollow, leaving you wondering why you even bother to hope.

And yet, against your better judgment, you do. You hope.

You’d spent hours convincing yourself that he would come, that this time would be different. But as the car pulled up to the venue without him, the weight of the truth settled back onto your shoulders. Of course, he hadn’t come. You knew it was too good to be true.

The Park family’s charity gala is as dazzling as you expected. The grand ballroom is a sea of glittering gowns, tailored suits, and sparkling champagne glasses. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light across the room, illuminating faces that belong to the city’s most influential.

As you make your way through the crowd, trying not to let your disappointment show, you almost immediately feel the weight of eyes on you.

People glance at the space beside you—empty, conspicuously so. The absence of Jaeyun is louder than any announcement, a glaring reminder of how alone you are in this marriage.

"She’s here alone again," someone whispers as you pass.

“Where’s Jaeyun?" one woman asks lightly, her tone laced with curiosity.

You hold your head high, your practiced smile in place, though the sting of their words burns beneath your skin. You knew this would happen. You prepared yourself for it. And still, it doesn’t make it any easier.

An hour passes, and you’ve made your way through polite conversations and obligatory greetings. You exchange small talk with acquaintances and pose for photographs, every move calculated to maintain the image of perfection.

And before you know it, you find yourself at the bar, nursing a glass of champagne as the evening drags on. The music is lively, couples twirling across the dance floor, and yet you can’t shake the gnawing feeling of being out of place.

"Mrs. Sim," a warm voice calls out. It’s smooth, familiar, and you turn to see Justin Park standing beside you. The eldest son of the Park family is the picture of charm, his tailored suit impeccable, his smile easy.

"Justin," you greet him with a smile, grateful for the familiarity. "It’s been a while."

"It has," he agrees, taking your hand briefly in his. "I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Never. The Parks throw the best events, after all."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," he teases, his grin widening.

The conversation flows effortlessly, his presence offering a welcome reprieve from the otherwise stifling evening. Justin has always had a way of making people feel at ease, and for the first time tonight, you feel a small sense of relief.

But you’re not oblivious to the glances. You can feel the eyes of the room on you, hear the faint murmurs growing louder as the two of you continue talking. Justin doesn’t seem to notice—or if he does, he doesn’t care.

He takes the seat beside you, signaling for a drink. "No Jaeyun tonight?"

You let out a soft laugh, though there’s no real humour in it. "Work," you say, the excuse slipping off your tongue before you can stop it.

Justin raises an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful. "Work seems to take up a lot of his time."

You glance at him, unsure how to respond. There’s a knowing look in his eyes, but he doesn’t press further. Instead, he shifts the conversation to lighter topics, asking about your family, your thoughts on the gala, your latest endeavours.

But as the conversation continues, you become more and more aware of the glances being cast your way. The whispers. The pointed stares.

It doesn’t take long to piece together what’s happening.

The perfect wife of Sim Jaeyun, left alone at a gala, seen laughing and chatting with Justin Park—eldest son of the host family, no less. The headline practically writes itself.

You excuse yourself politely, leaving Justin with a gracious smile as you slip away to the powder room. Your heart pounds as you grip the edge of the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. The whispers have always followed you, but this feels different.

When you return to the ballroom, the tension is palpable. More eyes follow you now, the buzz of speculation almost tangible. You press on, keeping your head high, your composure intact.

But inside, something breaks.

You’d held onto hope, despite everything, that Jaeyun might show up, that he might stand beside you for once, silencing the whispers with his presence. Instead, his absence speaks louder than words ever could.

The night drags on, and by the time you leave, the damage is done.

When you arrive home, the house is dark, just as you expected. Jaeyun’s car is in the driveway, but the silence inside confirms what you already know—he’s here, but he’s not really here.

You find him in his office, his laptop open, his face bathed in the cold glow of the screen.

"You didn’t come," you say, your voice flat as you stand in the doorway.

He glances up briefly, his expression unreadable. "I told you I was busy."

"Busy," you repeat, bitterness creeping into your tone. "You couldn’t even spare one evening? You didn’t even try, did you?”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond.

"Do you have any idea what tonight was like for me?" you ask, your voice rising. "Standing there alone while people whispered and stared? While they speculated about my marriage—and about Justin Park?"

At the mention of Justin’s name, Jaeyun’s gaze sharpens, a flicker of something—anger, perhaps—crossing his face.

"Justin?" he asks, his tone clipped.

"Yes, Justin," you snap. "He was kind enough to talk to me while my husband couldn’t even bother to show up."

Jaeyun’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, you think he might actually say something. But then he leans back in his chair, his expression closing off once more. "I’m sure people will find something else to talk about tomorrow."

The dismissal in his tone is the final blow. You shake your head, the weight of the evening crashing down on you.

"Of course," you say softly, your voice trembling. "Why would you care?"

You turn and walk away, the sound of his keyboard clicking resuming as the door closes behind you. In the quiet of your room, you slip off your gown, your hands trembling as you let it pool around your feet.

You knew it was too good to be true. Jaeyun’s warmth, his attention—it was fleeting, a momentary lapse in the distance that defines your marriage. And now, you’re left with the echoes of what might have been, wondering if it was ever real to begin with.

The days following the gala, marked by a heavy, stifling silence that seems to wrap itself around the house. You try to carry on as if nothing has changed, though it’s impossible to ignore the fact that Jaeyun is now home every day.

It’s disorienting. He’s always been someone who thrives on his demanding schedule, constantly in and out, using work as an excuse to avoid the cracks in your marriage.

But now, he’s here—present in a way that feels more like a shadow than a comfort.

You desperately try to avoid him, sticking to your routines with an almost obsessive precision. You spend longer in the kitchen, longer in the guest room you’ve claimed as your own, and shorter stretches of time in shared spaces like the living room. Yet, no matter how hard you try, it’s like his presence lingers everywhere.

In the mornings, you find him in the kitchen, sipping coffee at the island as if he’s always been there. The air is thick with unspoken words as you pour yourself tea, your movements stiff and deliberate. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t acknowledge you beyond a glance, but the weight of his silence is deafening.

At night, it’s worse. You hear him moving about the house, the faint sound of his footsteps stopping and starting as though he’s unsure where to go. It’s as if he’s waiting for you to confront him, to say something—anything—but you don’t. You can’t.

One evening, as you retreat to your room, you notice the door to his office is wide open, the lights dim. You hesitate for a moment, glancing inside, only to find him sitting at his desk, staring blankly at his laptop.

He doesn’t look up, but his voice cuts through the quiet like a blade. "You’re avoiding me."

You freeze, your fingers tightening on the edge of the doorframe. "I’m not avoiding you," you lie, your voice steadier than you feel.

He lets out a dry laugh, though there’s no humour in it. "You’re not very good at lying."

You don’t respond, your pulse quickening as the weight of his gaze finally lifts from the screen and settles on you. His eyes are darker than usual, a storm brewing behind them, but you refuse to let it intimidate you.

"Why are you here all the time now?" you ask abruptly, the question tumbling out before you can stop it. "Are you not needed at the office?"

He leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Maybe I realised I’ve been away too much, I’ve decided to work from home for the time being."

You scoff, shaking your head. "You’ve always been away too much. Why does it matter now?"

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. His gaze lingers on you, searching, as if trying to decide how much to say. "Because you were right," he says finally, his voice quieter but firm. "About a lot of things."

The confession catches you off guard, your carefully constructed walls trembling under the weight of his words.

"And what am I supposed to do with that?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t know. But I’m trying."

You laugh bitterly, stepping back into the hallway. "Trying doesn’t undo what’s already been done, Jaeyun."

"I know," he says softly, almost to himself.

You leave before he can say anything more, retreating to your room and shutting the door behind you. The house falls silent again, but it feels more suffocating than ever.

The knock at the door is sharp, insistent, cutting through the quiet of the night like a blade. You hesitate, your book slipping from your hands onto the couch.

It’s late—too late for anyone to show up unannounced. The second knock is harder, more aggressive, and the urgency in it sends a chill down your spine.

Jaeyun’s office light is still on, but the house is otherwise silent. You glance down the hallway, half-expecting him to emerge and handle it, but when he doesn’t, you steel yourself and head for the door.

Justin Park stands on your doorstep, his usually composed face marred by a split lip and a bruise darkening his cheek. His suit jacket is gone, his shirt wrinkled and bloodied, and his eyes burn with a fury you’ve never seen before.

You swing the door open, your voice trembling. "Justin? What happened to you?"

He steps inside without waiting for an invitation, his movements stiff and pained. "Where’s your husband?" he snaps, his voice low and dangerous.

"What—what are you talking about?" you stammer, closing the door behind him as he staggers into the living room.

"Get Jaeyun on a leash," he growls, turning to face you. His eyes are blazing, his anger palpable. "Because if this is how he handles things, you’re going to have bigger problems than rumors about us."

You stare at him, your mind struggling to catch up. "Jaeyun? What does he have to do with this?"

Justin lets out a harsh laugh, though there’s no humor in it. He presses a hand to his side, wincing as he moves. "You really don’t know, do you?"

"Your husband sent his men after me," he growls, his voice dripping with anger. "Three of them cornered me at the bar tonight. Told me I needed to stay away from you. When I didn’t back down, they made sure I 'got the message.'"

The blood drains from your face as you take in his bruised cheek, the torn fabric of his shirt. "Jaeyun… he wouldn’t—"

"Wouldn’t he?" Justin snaps, his eyes blazing. "You think he didn’t know exactly what he was doing? He made it very clear who was behind it."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. This couldn’t be true, could it? Jaeyun, who has spent years pretending you don’t exist, who didn’t even bother to show up at the gala, suddenly cared enough to orchestrate this?

You swallow hard, your hands trembling as you step closer. "Justin, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—"

"Don’t apologise for him," Justin interrupts sharply, his gaze softening slightly as he looks at you. "This isn’t your fault. But you need to talk to him. Make him understand that this isn’t how you fix things."

You nod slowly, your mind spinning. "Let me get you some ice," you say, moving toward the kitchen.

"Don’t bother," Justin says, shaking his head. "I just came to let you know what happened. Whatever you do with this information is up to you."

"Justin—"

"Take care of yourself," he says, cutting you off as he heads toward the door. He pauses, his hand on the doorknob, and glances back at you. "You deserve better than this."

The sound of the door shutting behind Justin reverberates through the house like a final gavel in a court sentencing. You stand frozen, trying to collect yourself, when you hear it—the unmistakable sound of Jaeyun’s footsteps behind you.

"Who was that?" Jaeyun’s voice is calm, almost indifferent, but there’s a sharpness beneath it that makes your skin crawl.

You turn slowly to face him, your anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You already know who it was."

His gaze darkens, his expression unreadable. "And why was he here?"

You scoff, crossing your arms. "Why do you think? He came to show me the bruises your men left on him. Did you send them, Jaeyun?"

Jaeyun doesn’t flinch. Instead, he leans against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "He needed to understand his place," he says flatly.

"His place?" you echo, your voice rising. "You sent your men to beat him up over a conversation? What’s wrong with you?"

Jaeyun straightens, his eyes flashing. "He was disrespecting our marriage."

You stare at him, stunned for a moment before letting out a bitter laugh. "Disrespecting our marriage? What marriage, Jaeyun? The one you’ve ignored for years? The one you couldn’t even show up to defend at the gala?"

He steps closer, his voice sharp. "Don’t twist this. You were out there talking to him, laughing with him, while people whispered about you. About us."

"Why does it matter to you anyway?" you snap, your anger spilling over. "You don’t see this arrangement as anything more than a convenience. Why do you care if I was talking to Justin or not?"

"Because it reflects on me," he fires back, his voice hard. "On my family. On my name."

You flinch at the bluntness of his words, your chest tightening. "So that’s all this is to you? Image? Reputation?"

He clenches his jaw, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "You don’t understand."

"No," you shoot back, your voice breaking slightly. "I don’t understand. Because you don’t let me. You don’t let me in, Jaeyun. And then you act like you have the right to control me when I’m just trying to survive this sham of a marriage."

His expression falters for a moment, something flickering in his eyes—guilt, regret, anger—but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

"You don’t know Justin Park," he says, his tone cold. "Not like I do. It’s best you stay away from him."

"And you think I know you?" you ask, your voice trembling with fury. "Maybe it’s you I should be staying away from."

The words hit him like a slap, and for a moment, he’s silent. The tension between you is suffocating, the weight of everything left unsaid crushing down on both of you.

Finally, he exhales, his voice quieter but no less sharp. "This isn’t about me."

"It’s always about you, Jaeyun," you reply, shaking your head. "Your name. Your image. Your pride. But what about me? What about what I want? Or do I not even factor into this equation anymore?"

His silence is answer enough.

You turn on your heel, your chest tight as you storm down the hallway, leaving him standing there in the suffocating silence. Your footsteps echo through the house, but his don’t follow.

In your room, you sit on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling as you press them against your temples. Justin’s words replay in your mind: You deserve better than this.

And for a moment, you wonder if he’s right.

The thought comes to you slowly, quietly, like the first ripples of a tide that eventually swallows the shore. Divorce. You roll the word around in your mind, tasting its finality, its promise of freedom, and the bitter pang of everything it would mean.

For so long, it felt like an impossible idea, a step too drastic to even consider. You told yourself it wasn’t an option—not with the intertwined fates of your family and Jaeyun’s. Not with the whispers that would follow you for years, the headlines that would smear your name.

But now, as you sit alone in the dim light of your room, the faint murmur of Jaeyun’s movements down the hall a constant reminder of how broken things are, it doesn’t feel impossible anymore.

It feels inevitable.

Your mind drifts back to the last few months, to the endless cycle of hope and disappointment. For every fleeting moment of warmth from Jaeyun, there’s a cold wall waiting to slam back down, leaving you questioning your worth, your sanity.

You deserve better than this.

Do you?

The idea both frightens and exhilarates you. To walk away, to sever the ties that have bound you for so long, feels like a leap into the unknown. What would your life look like without Jaeyun? Without the expectations and pretenses that have consumed you?

Your thoughts turn to your family. You know the sacrifices they made, the desperation that led to this marriage in the first place. For so long, you told yourself you couldn’t leave because they needed you to stay. But now, with their business stable and the weight of the Sim family’s influence less critical than it once was, you wonder if you’ve been clinging to that excuse simply because it’s easier than facing the truth.

The truth is, you’ve been afraid. Afraid of the fallout, of the shame, of the unknown. Afraid that walking away would mean admitting failure—not just to your family or society, but to yourself.

But as you sit there, the faint hum of the world outside filtering through the window, you realise something else: staying is its own kind of failure.

You press your hands to your face, breathing deeply as you let the thought settle over you. Divorce. It feels heavy, like a word too big for your chest to hold, but also strangely freeing.

You don’t make the decision tonight. But for the first time, you allow yourself to think about it, to imagine a life where the weight of this marriage is lifted, where you can breathe freely again.

But while the thought of it doesn’t feel impossible, it doesn’t feel like hope either.

Not the kind of hope you would feel when the coldness between you and Jaeyun would melt for a day or two, his rare gestures of warmth thawing the ice between you before it inevitably froze over again. Not the kind of hope you would feel when you allowed yourself to dream of a happy marriage with him, only to wake up to the nightmare of its absence.

This doesn’t feel like hope.

It feels like resignation. A quiet acceptance of the reality you’ve been avoiding for years. But even as the word divorce lingers in your mind, whispering promises of freedom and relief, there’s something else that you can’t seem to ignore.

Even after everything—after the indifference, the distance, the way he treats you like an afterthought—you can’t deny the feeling that has rooted itself so stubbornly in your chest.

You love him.

It feels absurd, almost laughable, to admit it even to yourself. How could you love someone who has hurt you so thoroughly, someone who has made you feel invisible in a marriage that he vowed to protect? And yet, the truth is undeniable.

You love him.

You love him in the quiet moments when his mask slips, and he shows glimpses of the man you thought he could be. You love him in the memories of the rare times he made you feel seen, however fleeting they were. You even love him in the ache of longing, in the endless hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll come back to you in the way you’ve always wanted him to.

It’s maddening. It’s painful. And it’s real.

The thought makes your chest tighten, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. How can you even think of divorce when your heart refuses to let go? When a part of you still clings to the idea that something salvageable remains between you?

You press your fingers to your temple, willing the thoughts to quiet, but they don’t. Instead, they linger, heavy and unrelenting, as the faint sounds of Jaeyun moving about the house reach your ears.

You love him. Despite everything. And maybe that’s the worst part of all.

You decide that you’ll never be able to come to a conclusion as long as you’re stuck in this house, surrounded by everything that reminds you of him. The walls feel like they’re closing in, every corner holding fragments of a life you’re not sure you can continue living. His cologne lingering in the hallways, the faint indent of his weight on the sofa, the silent hum of his presence—all of it suffocates you.

So, you do the only thing you can think of. You pack your bags.

You don’t give yourself time to overthink it. A small overnight bag is enough; you don’t even care if you’ve forgotten something. The urgency to leave, to breathe, to escape the weight of him, pushes you forward.

You don’t bother texting or calling Wonyoung or Sunghoon first. She’s your best friend and he’s your brother. You trust that they’ll understand. Frankly, you don’t care if you’re interrupting something. You just want out of this house.

When you step out into the cool evening air, the weight on your chest lifts ever so slightly. You pull your coat tighter around you and get into the car, gripping the steering wheel as if it’s the only thing anchoring you.

The drive to Wonyoung’s is a blur, the city lights flashing past your windows like fleeting memories. You don’t know what you’re going to say when you arrive, but you trust that she’ll take one look at you and know. She always does.

Your grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles white as you try to focus on the road and not the storm brewing inside your mind. But as you take a glance at your rear-view mirror, a flicker of unease slithers into your chest.

The car behind you has been following you for far too long.

At first, you brush it off as coincidence. It’s a city, after all, and traffic can be unpredictable. But the longer you drive, the more you notice the pattern. Every turn you make, every lane change—it mirrors your moves with eerie precision.

Your chest tightens, and your breath comes a little faster. You test the waters, making an abrupt turn onto a side street. The car behind you follows.

Panic starts to creep in, and your mind races with possibilities. Who would follow you? And why?

Your foot presses harder on the accelerator, your heart pounding as the car behind you matches your speed. You weave through the streets, your mind screaming for clarity, for an explanation. But none comes. The only thing that matters is the need to escape.

As you merge onto a less busy road, the car behind you inches closer, its headlights glaring in your rear-view mirror like eyes boring into your soul. You push the accelerator to the floor, the speedometer climbing as your car barrels down the road.

The high-speed chase feels endless, your pulse a deafening roar in your ears. You barely register the turns you’re making, the streets blurring together as you fight to stay ahead. But in your desperation, you take a corner too sharply.

The car swerves, tires screeching against the asphalt. The world tilts as your vehicle careens off the road, smashing into a lamppost with a bone-jarring impact.

Everything goes quiet.

Your head throbs, the airbag deflating in front of you. Smoke wafts from the crumpled hood, and your vision swims as you try to make sense of what’s happening. Before you can gather your thoughts, the sound of approaching footsteps snaps you to attention.

You fumble with your seatbelt, panic surging as the car door wrenches open. A figure looms over you, silhouetted against the harsh glow of the headlights.

"Let’s go," a voice growls, low and urgent.

Before you can react, strong hands grip your arm, dragging you from the wreckage. You kick and thrash, your protests muffled by the haze of adrenaline and the ache radiating through your body.

"Stop fighting," the voice snaps, and you freeze, recognition dawning.

"Justin?" you rasp, your voice hoarse and disbelieving.

He doesn’t answer, his grip on your arm tightening as he pulls you toward a waiting car parked just behind yours.

"What are you doing?" you demand, trying to resist despite the pounding in your head.

"Saving you," he bites out, his tone cold and unrelenting. "From yourself and from him."

The words send a chill down your spine, confusion and fear swirling in your chest. "What are you talking about? Let me go!"

But Justin doesn’t falter. He opens the car door and all but shoves you inside before sliding into the driver’s seat and locking the doors.

"You don’t get it, do you?" he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. "You’re a pawn in his game, and he’s not going to let you go. Not unless someone forces his hand."

The engine roars to life, and the car speeds off, leaving the wreckage—and your sense of safety—far behind.

"Justin, what are you doing?" you whisper, your voice trembling as the weight of the situation presses down on you.

He glances at you briefly, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Making sure you don’t go back to him."

Panic bubbles up in your chest, and you realise this night is far from over.

The warehouse is cold, damp, and utterly silent except for the faint hum of fluorescent lights flickering overhead. Your wrists ache from where Justin had bound them to the chair, though he’d been careful not to make it too tight—almost as if he wanted to justify this madness to himself.

He paces in front of you, his movements restless, his face a storm of emotions. His disheveled appearance is a far cry from the polished, composed man you’d spoken to at the gala. Now, he looks unhinged, his sharp gaze flickering between intensity and something softer that makes your stomach churn.

"Why are you doing this, Justin?" you demand, your voice trembling but resolute. "What do you want from me?"

He stops abruptly, turning to face you. His lips twitch into a faint, humourless smile. "This isn’t about what I want," he says quietly. "This is about what’s right."

You scoff, your anger surging despite the fear gnawing at you. "Right? You call kidnapping me right? You’re delusional."

He doesn’t flinch at your words, instead crouching down to your level, his eyes boring into yours. "You don’t understand, do you?" he says softly, almost pityingly. "You’re a pawn in a much bigger game. Jaeyun’s game."

"And what does that make me in your game, Justin?" you snap, your voice sharp.

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look away. "I’m not playing games," he insists. "I’m trying to show you the truth. Jaeyun doesn’t care about you—he never has. To him, you’re just another piece on the board, someone to control and manipulate to his advantage."

You glare at him, your hands gripping the edge of the chair. "And you think you’re any better? You think dragging me here, tying me up, and ranting about Jaeyun makes you some kind of saviour?"

His face darkens, and for a moment, you see a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or guilt. "I’m trying to free you from him," he says, his voice low.

"Free me?" you laugh bitterly, shaking your head. "Stop treating me as your moral compass. You know damn well this has nothing to do with saving me. You just want to use me to get back at Jaeyun."

Justin’s expression falters, his composure cracking. He stands abruptly, running a hand through his hair as he begins pacing again.

"It’s not like that," he mutters, more to himself than to you.

"Then what is it, Justin?" you press, your voice trembling with both anger and exhaustion. "Because this isn’t about me. This is about you and Jaeyun. And your obsession with him."

He stops pacing, his back to you. For a long moment, he says nothing, the silence stretching between you like a taut wire. Then, he speaks, his voice quieter, almost reflective.

"Jaeyun and I… we’ve been at this for years," he admits, his tone tinged with something bitter. "University. Work. Every step of the way, we’ve competed. Top marks, top internships, top investments. And every time I get close, he finds a way to edge me out."

You stare at him, your mind racing to process his words.

"Do you know how frustrating it is to always be second to someone who doesn’t even care?" he continues, his voice rising. "He doesn’t care about the people he steps on, the lives he ruins. He just takes. He took everything from me—and now he’s taken you too."

"Taken me?" you echo, incredulous. "This isn’t some prize to win, Justin. I’m a person, not a trophy for your petty rivalry."

He turns to face you again, his expression hard. "You don’t understand. He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t even see what he has."

"And you think you do?" you snap. "You’re not trying to save me, Justin. You’re trying to hurt him."

Justin’s pacing grows more erratic, his voice rising as he spits out his frustrations. "He never cared about you," he snaps, his tone dripping with venom. "Sending men to beat me up because he can’t even do it himself! Everything he does is about rubbing it in my face."

You flinch at the bitterness in his words, your breath catching as the room seems to grow colder.

"He couldn’t even be bothered to show up at the gala," Justin continues, his voice cracking with anger. "But the moment he thinks I’ve crossed some invisible line, he sends his dogs after me. And you think that’s about you? No. It’s about me. About proving he’s one step ahead, always in control."

"You’re wrong," you say, your voice trembling.

"Am I?" he counters, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you. "Think about it, Y/N. Think about the way he treats you. The way he treats everyone. You’re just a piece on his board, another way for him to win."

You shake your head, tears stinging your eyes. "You don’t know that."

"I know him better than you ever could," Justin growls, stepping closer. "I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. Every move he makes, every decision—it’s all calculated. And this? Sending men after me? That wasn’t about protecting you. That was about humiliating me."

You bite your lip, refusing to let his words burrow deeper. "And what about you, Justin? Are you any better? You’ve tied me to this chair, dragged me into this mess, and you’re standing here acting like you’re doing me some kind of favour."

"I’m trying to show you the truth," he snaps, his tone raw.

"No," you say firmly, your voice shaking with a mix of fear and fury. "You’re trying to one-up Jaeyun. This isn’t about me, and it never was. You’re just as obsessed with beating him as you claim he is with controlling you."

His expression falters for a moment, a flicker of guilt passing through his eyes. But then he clenches his jaw, his resolve hardening. "I’m not like him," he insists, though his voice lacks its earlier conviction.

"Then prove it," you say, meeting his gaze head-on. "Let me go."

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might actually listen. But then he shakes his head, turning away from you.

"Not yet," he murmurs, almost to himself. "Not until I’ve made my point."

You swallow hard, your chest tightening as the reality of the situation sinks in. Justin isn’t going to let you go—not until he’s done whatever it is he’s convinced himself he needs to do.

His fingers move swiftly over your phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his face. "I’ll show you exactly how little you mean to him. When he comes, he won’t even bat an eye at you. It’ll all be about him—his pride, his control, his need to be the one in charge."

Your stomach twists, and you tug at the restraints on your wrists, panic building in your chest. "Justin, stop this."

He ignores your protests, holding the phone up so you can see the screen. He snaps a picture of you—bound to the chair, your face pale with fear—and then types out a message.

You: You want her back? Come and get her.

You watch helplessly as he hits send, the message shooting off to Jaeyun.

"You’re insane," you hiss, struggling against the bindings. "This won’t prove anything."

"It’ll prove everything," Justin says, his smirk widening. "You’ll see. When he shows up, it won’t be about you. It’ll be about him. About showing me up. About proving he’s the better man."

"You don’t know that," you snap, though your voice wavers.

"I know him better than you think," Justin says, his tone calm and measured. "He won’t even look at you properly. He won’t ask if you’re okay. He’ll only care about putting me in my place."

Your chest tightens, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to believe. The man in front of you is unhinged, but his words strike a chord of doubt you can’t entirely ignore.

Justin steps back, his confidence radiating as he pockets his phone. "You’ll see soon enough," he says simply. "And when he comes, when he proves me right, you’ll finally understand who Jaeyun really is."

You glare at him, your heart pounding as you pull against the bindings. "You’re delusional," you spit.

"Am I?" he asks, his smirk unwavering.

The room falls into a tense silence, the weight of his words hanging over you like a dark cloud. You can only pray that he’s wrong, that Jaeyun will come—not because of pride or rivalry, but because somewhere, buried deep within his frozen heart, there’s a small warmth that still holds you in it.

But as the minutes tick by, the doubt Justin planted in your mind begins to grow.

The memories swirl in your mind, colliding with Justin’s words like pieces of a puzzle you wish didn’t fit. You’ve always told yourself that Jaeyun’s indifference was a defence mechanism, a way to protect himself from something deeper. But what if it wasn’t? What if Justin is right, and everything you’ve clung to was just wishful thinking?

"You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?" Justin’s voice cuts through your thoughts, smug and sharp. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with a knowing look. "Wondering if I’m right. Wondering if he’ll even come."

"Shut up," you snap, though your voice lacks its usual strength.

"I don’t blame you," he says, shrugging. "He’s made you doubt yourself. Doubt him. That’s what he does, Y/N. He keeps you just close enough to keep you hoping, but not close enough to let you in. And when he does come, it’s never for you. It’s for himself."

You shake your head, refusing to let him poison your mind any further. "You don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Don’t I?" he counters, raising an eyebrow. "Then why are you here, Y/N? Why aren’t you at home with a husband who loves and protects you? Why are you the one who always has to wonder if you even matter to him?"

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away, refusing to let him see you break. "You’re only saying this because of your hatred for him. You don’t care about me. You’re just as bad as him."

Justin’s smirk fades, his jaw tightening. "Maybe I am," he admits. "But at least I’m honest about it. Can you say the same for him?"

The sound of your phone buzzing on the table snaps both of you to attention. Justin picks it up, glancing at the screen with a satisfied grin.

"Looks like he got my message," he says, holding up the phone so you can see Jaeyun’s reply:

Jaeyun: Where is she?

Jaeyun: Fucking bastard, I swear if you so lay a single finger on her I’m going to kill you.

Justin tosses the phone back onto the table and crosses the room to face you. "This is it," he says, his voice dripping with confidence. "When he gets here, you’ll see exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding as the weight of the situation sinks in. The doubt, the fear, the flicker of hope you can’t quite extinguish—it all swirls together as you wait for the man you’ve spent years trying to understand to finally show his hand.

The silence in the warehouse is shattered by the sharp screech of tyres outside, the deafening sound of a car coming to an abrupt halt. Justin’s smirk falters slightly, though he quickly masks it, his eyes darting to the door.

Moments later, it bursts open with a crash, and Jaeyun strides in, his suit dishevelled, his tie loosened as if he’d rushed to get here. His eyes immediately scan the room, landing on you—bound, frightened, but alive. His expression hardens, the sharpness in his gaze like a blade cutting through the tension.

“Let her go,” Jaeyun growls, his voice low and dangerous.

Justin steps forward, placing himself between you and Jaeyun, his smirk widening again as if to taunt him. “So predictable,” Justin sneers. “You just couldn’t resist, could you? I knew you’d come running.”

“I’m warning you, Justin,” Jaeyun snaps, his fists clenched at his sides. “Let her go.”

Justin chuckles, shaking his head. “You think this is about her? It’s always been about us. About showing you that you’re not invincible, that you’re not always in control.”

“Is that what this is?” Jaeyun spits, his voice rising. “A desperate attempt to prove something to yourself? You’re pathetic.”

Justin’s expression darkens, and he steps closer to Jaeyun, his movements quick and aggressive. “Pathetic? You’re the one who couldn’t even be bothered to care about her until now! Don’t act like you’re some hero. You don’t even love her.”

“You have no idea what I feel for her.” Jaeyun bites back, his voice trembling with restrained fury.

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, Justin seems taken aback. But then he scoffs, his confidence returning. “Words, Sim. Just words. But actions always speak louder.”

Before you can process what’s happening, Justin lunges, his fist aimed directly at Jaeyun. The sound of the impact is sickening, Jaeyun stumbling back as blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. But he doesn’t back down.

“You think this will prove anything?” Jaeyun snaps, his voice filled with fire as he ducks under Justin’s next swing. “You’re nothing but a coward hiding behind your jealousy!”

Justin lets out a roar of frustration, his movements becoming more erratic as Jaeyun deflects blow after blow. It’s brutal. You scream, your voice echoing as you plead for them to stop, but neither man listens.

The room is a whirlwind of chaos, with fists flying and grunts of effort and pain filling the air. Justin’s confidence is beginning to waver as Jaeyun fights back with an intensity that you’ve never seen before. But the tide turns when Justin grabs a metal pipe from the corner of the warehouse, his face twisted with rage.

“Stay back!” Jaeyun growls, shielding you as Justin brandishes the weapon.

Justin’s laugh is bitter, almost maniacal. “Stay back? You think you can protect her, Jaeyun? You can’t even protect yourself.”

Before you can register what’s happening, Justin’s attention shifts to you. His gaze sharpens, his grip on the pipe tightening as he steps forward.

“Maybe she’s the problem,” Justin sneers, his voice low and menacing. “Maybe I need to remind you what’s really at stake.”

Your heart stops as Justin raises the pipe, his body coiling to strike. Panic floods your veins, your voice breaking as you scream, “Justin, no!”

But the blow never lands.

In an instant, Jaeyun moves, throwing himself in front of you just as Justin swings the pipe downward. The sickening sound of metal meeting flesh reverberates through the warehouse, and Jaeyun staggers, a sharp cry escaping his lips.

“Jaeyun!” you scream, your voice raw with terror as he crumples to one knee, his arm instinctively clutching his side where the pipe struck. You struggle against the bindings, the rough material sinking deeper into your skin the more you tug on it.

You’re helpless, watching the man you love cradle in pain at your feet.

Justin stumbles back, momentarily stunned by what just happened. The pipe slips from his grasp, clattering to the floor with a metallic clang. “Why would you—?” Justin begins, his voice faltering.

Jaeyun doesn’t waste another second. Summoning the last of his strength, he lunges forward, delivering a final, powerful punch that sends Justin sprawling to the floor.

The room falls silent except for the sound of Jaeyun’s laboured breathing. He stumbles towards you, his movements unsteady but determined. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse as he kneels to untie the ropes, his eyes scanning you for any sign of injury.

Tears blur your vision as you nod, your heart pounding in your chest. “You’re hurt,” you whisper, your hands trembling as you reach for him.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the wince that follows says otherwise.

Justin groans from the floor, trying to push himself up. “This doesn’t change anything,” he sneers weakly. “You don’t care about her. This was about beating me, as always.”

Jaeyun doesn’t even glance his way. Instead, he cups your face gently, his eyes searching yours. “Are you hurt?” he asks softly, his voice trembling with something you can’t quite place.

“N-No,” you stammer, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

“Good,” he breathes a sigh of relief, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

Justin’s laugh is bitter and broken. “Still pretending to be the noble husband, I see. How long can you keep up the act, Jaeyun?”

Jaeyun turns to him, his expression cold and unyielding. “This isn’t about you, Justin. It never was. You wanted to prove I don’t care about her, but you’re wrong. She’s the only thing I care about.”

The words hit you like a tidal wave, your breath catching as the weight of them sinks in.

Justin stares at Jaeyun, his confidence finally cracking as the realisation dawns. He’s lost—not just the fight, but the twisted narrative he tried to build.

Jaeyun helps you to your feet, his arm wrapping around your waist as he steadies you. “We’re leaving,” he says firmly, leading you towards the door without sparing Justin another glance.

As the warehouse disappears behind you, the cold night air hits your face, and for the first time in what feels like hours, you can breathe again.

“Jaeyun…” you begin, your voice trembling as he helps you into the car.

“I’ll explain everything,” he says, his tone soft but resolute. “But first, let’s get you home.”

And as the car pulls away, you realise that for once, you believe him.

The drive home is silent, except for the hum of the engine and the shallow breaths Jaeyun tries to control. You steal glances at him from the passenger seat, your heart twisting at the sight of him wincing with every turn of the wheel. His shirt is stained with blood, his knuckles bruised and swollen, but his grip on the wheel is steady, determined.

“Jaeyun,” you whisper, your voice cutting through the tension.

He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but his jaw tightens slightly. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” you argue softly, your hands wringing in your lap. “You need to see a doctor. Your ribs—”

“We’ll deal with it later,” he interrupts, his tone firm but not unkind. “Right now, I just need to get you somewhere safe.”

The word safe settles heavily in your chest, and you’re not sure if it means the house you share or simply being by his side.

As you pull into the driveway, the reality of the night crashes over you. The headlights flick off, leaving you both sitting in the dark, the faint sound of crickets filling the air. You hesitate, unsure of what to say or how to move forward.

Jaeyun breaks the silence first. “Let’s get inside,” he says, his voice softer now, almost gentle.

You follow him to the door, his movements slower and more careful than usual. Once inside, he collapses onto the couch with a heavy sigh, leaning back and closing his eyes as if the weight of the world has finally caught up with him.

“Let me clean you up,” you say, your voice trembling as you move towards the kitchen to grab the first aid kit.

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs, but the exhaustion in his voice tells you he won’t fight it.

When you return, kneeling beside him, he opens his eyes and watches you silently. You avoid his gaze as you press a damp cloth to the cut above his eyebrow, your hands trembling slightly.

The room is quiet now, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the soft rustling of your movements as you clean Jaeyun’s wounds. His eyes remain fixed on you, studying every flicker of emotion across your face. He winces slightly as you dab a cut on his temple, but he doesn’t pull away.

You break the silence first, your voice trembling but resolute. “Why did you really come tonight, Jaeyun?”

He exhales deeply, the tension in his shoulders visible as he leans back against the couch. “You know why,” he says softly.

“No, I don’t,” you reply, setting the cloth down. “I don’t know why, I never know why. So, please, talk to me.” Your voice falters, the weight of the night catching up with you.

“I couldn’t let him hurt you,” Jaeyun replies simply, his eyes fixed on you. “It wasn’t even a question.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your throat tighten. You pause, your hand hovering over the cloth as you finally meet his gaze. “Why?” you whisper. “Why now? After everything? You’ve spent so much time pushing me away, avoiding me like I’m some kind of plague. And then tonight…”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away, his expression unreadable. “I’ve been avoiding you because it’s the only way I could keep you safe.”

Your brow furrows, confusion mixing with frustration. “Safe? Safe from what?”

“From me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “From my life. From the kind of man I am.”

You freeze, the confession hanging heavy in the air. “What are you talking about?”

Jaeyun leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasps his hands together. “I’m not a good person, Y/N. I never have been. In business, in life, I do what needs to be done. I act with consequences in mind, and I don’t regret it. But that means I’ve made enemies—people like Justin, who would do anything to see me fail.”

You stare at him, your chest tightening as the pieces begin to fall into place.

“Justin isn’t the first person who’s tried to get to me through someone I care about,” he continues, his voice steady but filled with a quiet anguish. “He won’t be the last. And the thought of you being dragged into that—being hurt because of me—is something I couldn’t, and still can’t handle. So I distanced myself. I thought it would protect you.”

You shake your head, your voice rising with disbelief. “So you thought ignoring me, shutting me out, was the answer? Do you have any idea how that made me feel? How lonely it’s been, living in this house with someone who acts like I don’t even exist?”

His eyes snap to yours, and you see a crack in his armour. “I know,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “I know I hurt you. And I hated myself for it every single day. But I didn’t know what else to do. Loving you—it feels like giving you a loaded gun and hoping you don’t get hurt because of it.”

The words hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless. “Loving me?” you echo, your voice trembling.

Jaeyun nods, his gaze unwavering. “Yes,” he says firmly. “Loving you, Y/N. Keeping my distance was the only way I know that I’m capable of loving you. Because I know you deserve better than me—better than the life your parents and I have dragged you into.”

His words hit you like a blow to the chest, the rawness of his confession cutting through every wall you’ve built. You stare at him, your breath catching as the weight of his emotions settles over you.

The cold distance, the avoidance, the rare moments of tenderness—it all makes sense now, in the most heartbreaking way.

“You think loving me means pushing me away?” you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “Don’t you think I should get to decide what I deserve?”

He looks at you, his expression filled with regret and longing. “I didn’t want to be selfish,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want to keep you in a life where you’d always be a target, always be second to the chaos I bring. But tonight—” His voice breaks, and he takes a shaky breath. “seeing you like that, knowing Justin had you—I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. Not like that. Not ever.”

Jaeyun looks down, his hands clenching into fists on his knees. He’s crying now—fully, uncontrollably crying. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “But I didn’t know how to keep you safe without hurting you either…”

You stay quiet, mostly because you don’t even know what to say. Part of you understands Jaeyun did what he thought was right, that he truly believed he was protecting you. But another part of you is just so angry—angry at the thought that he didn’t trust you enough to make decisions for yourself, angry that he acted as though he alone could determine what was best for you.

But as you look at him now, shoulders hunched, tears streaming down his face, and barely able to catch his breath as he speaks, you falter. You see the pain etched into every line of his face, the raw anguish in his voice, and you know it hurt him as much as—maybe even more than—it hurt you.

When you don’t respond for a long moment, Jaeyun exhales deeply, his breath shaky and uneven. “I wanted you to leave me on your own,” he admits, his voice breaking, “because I knew I could never leave you. But you were so stubborn. You stayed. Even after everything, you stayed.”

His words hit you like a blow to the chest, striking a nerve you didn’t even know was exposed. The trembling vulnerability in his voice, the quiet admission of his fears, cuts through your anger and replaces it with something else—something raw, aching, and painfully bittersweet.

“You stayed,” he repeats, his voice barely a whisper, as though he still can’t quite believe it. “Even when I gave you every reason to walk away. Even when I hurt you. And I couldn’t understand why.”

“Do you want to know why I stayed?” you ask, your own voice trembling now as you search his face for the answers he’s yet to give.

He nods, his tear-filled eyes meeting yours, wide and filled with uncertainty.

“Honestly, I’ve been running away from this feeling, from this truth that I was never ready to face,” you begin, your voice wavering but steady enough to push through. “And that is, despite everything—despite every bone, every nerve in my body telling me to stop doing this to myself—I hoped. I hoped that you’d prove me wrong one day. I hoped that if I stayed long enough, maybe you’d stop pushing me away and let me in.”

Jaeyun flinches, his expression crumpling under the weight of your words. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice cracking as fresh tears spill over.

The silence that follows is heavy, thick with tension, the air between you charged with everything unsaid. His hands twitch at his sides, as though he wants to reach for you but can’t quite bring himself to do it. The hesitation in his movements is almost palpable.

“I thought if you hated me,” he says finally, his voice low and pained, “it would be easier for you to walk away. But you didn’t hate me. You never gave up. And that scared me more than anything.”

Your voice trembles as you stare at him, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on your chest. “I do hate you,” you admit, the words falling like stones between you. “So much.”

Jaeyun flinches as though you’ve struck him, his breath hitching, and for a moment, he looks like he’s bracing himself for more. But you’re not finished.

“But loving you…” Your voice cracks, and you take a shaky breath, blinking away the tears that blur your vision. “Loving you hurts more than hating you.”

His head snaps up, his wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto yours. The vulnerability in his gaze mirrors your own, and the silence that follows is deafening.

“I’ve tried,” you continue, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. “I’ve tried to hate you, to tell myself that it’s easier, that it’s what I should feel after everything. But it isn’t. Because no matter how much you’ve hurt me, no matter how much I’ve wanted to walk away, I can’t stop loving you. And that… that’s what hurts the most.”

Jaeyun’s breath shudders, and for a moment, he doesn’t move. You can see the hesitation in his movements, the way his hands twitch at his sides as if he’s fighting the urge to reach for you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, his voice trembling. “For all of it. For every time I hurt you, every time I pushed you away when all you ever did was stay.”

Your heart clenches at the rawness in his tone, the vulnerability he’s finally letting you see. You take a small step forward, the distance between you shrinking, and for the first time, you see the cracks in his carefully constructed walls crumble entirely.

“You don’t have to apologise anymore,” you say softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “Just… don’t make me regret staying.”

Then, as if something inside him snaps, he steps closer, his trembling hands reaching out to cup your face. “I won’t,,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure I never give you a reason to hate me again.”

Before you can say anything else, Jaeyun closes the remaining distance between you. His arms wrap around you, tentative at first, as though he’s afraid you’ll push him away. But when you don’t, when you melt into his embrace, his hold tightens. Even with the searing pain in his ribs, he presses his body against yours as though he’s terrified of letting you go.

The warmth of his touch is overwhelming, and you bury your face in his chest, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. His heartbeat is erratic against your cheek, mirroring the rapid pounding of your own.

You tilt your head up to look at him, your breath catching as you see the intensity in his gaze. His eyes are filled with something you’ve longed to see—love, raw and unguarded. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped.

“I don’t deserve you,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion.

“Maybe not,” you reply, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “But I’m still here.”

He leans in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you don’t. You meet him halfway, your lips pressing against his in a kiss that is as tentative as it is electrifying.

The world seems to fall away as his lips move against yours, soft and searching, as though he’s pouring every unspoken word, every buried emotion, into this one moment. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens, a mixture of desperation and relief in the way he holds you.

When you finally pull away, breathless and overwhelmed, his forehead rests against yours. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice steady despite the emotion trembling beneath it.

The words hang in the air, soft but weighty, like a promise long overdue.

You nod, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you smile softly. Hearing those three words from him is something you never thought would happen, something you’d almost given up hoping for.

They settle in your chest, filling the void that had been carved out by years of distance and pain. And yet, they don’t feel fleeting or uncertain. They feel real.

“I love you too,” you whisper back, the confession spilling from your lips without hesitation.

His arms tighten around you, as though anchoring himself to you, and in that moment, the weight of the past begins to fall away. It doesn’t erase the hurt, the scars, or the battles you’ve fought, but it lays the foundation for something new.

Something worth hoping for, worth holding onto.

The morning sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. The faint chirping of birds filters through the open window, blending with the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. You stir beneath the covers, blinking against the golden light, and instinctively reach out.

Your hand brushes against Jaeyun’s, and his fingers wrap around yours reflexively. A soft smile spreads across your face as you realise he’s already awake, propped up on one elbow, his gaze fixed on you.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm, carrying a hint of amusement as if he’s caught you in a rare, unguarded moment.

You smile, the simple greeting filling the room with a kind of light you hadn’t felt in years. “Good morning,” you reply, your fingers brushing against the wedding ring that now sits firmly on your finger—a symbol that, finally, feels like it truly means something.

Jaeyun leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You looked peaceful,” he says, his fingers brushing your cheek. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

You laugh softly, resting your hand on his chest. “You can’t just watch me sleep, Jaeyun. That’s… mildly creepy.”

His laugh rumbles in his chest, a sound you’ve come to treasure. “Fair point,” he admits, his eyes sparkling.

“Do you have any plans today?” he asks, shifting closer, his arm slipping around your waist as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You shake your head, laughing softly. “Not unless you count breakfast.”

He grins, the boyish charm you rarely saw before now shining through. “I was hoping we could spend the day doing nothing. Just… being here. Together.”

You nod, the simplicity of the suggestion warming you. “I’d like that.”

The morning unfolds with quiet moments that feel extraordinary in their ordinariness—Jaeyun making coffee, you teasing him about burning the toast, laughter filling the kitchen as you both try to perfect pancakes. It’s these moments, you realise, that make a life worth living. Not grand gestures or elaborate plans, but the small, quiet ways you choose each other every day.

As the day stretches on, you find yourselves curled up on the sofa, your head resting on his shoulder while his fingers absentmindedly trace patterns along your arm. The television hums in the background, forgotten as you both bask in the peace you fought so hard to find.

The man beside you now isn’t the distant, closed-off Jaeyun you once knew. He’s present, attentive, and more open than you ever thought possible. It wasn’t an overnight change, that’s for sure. But somewhere along the way, you both chose to stop running—from yourselves, from each other, and from the future you could build together.

What you have now feels special, priceless. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. You’ve learned, through pain and healing, that happiness doesn’t come from wealth or success. True happiness comes from love.

The kind of love that makes you giddy inside.

The kind of love you once believed only existed in fairy tales.

The kind of love that everyone seeks but few find.

The kind of love you’ve found with him.

They say if he’s not calling, it’s because you’re not on his mind. Once, you believed that. You let it eat away at you, let it shape your every thought, every quiet moment when his absence felt louder than words. You told yourself his silence was a choice, that his excuses were just another way to say you didn’t matter enough.

But now, sitting beside him as the evening light filters through the curtains, his hand resting over yours, you realise how wrong you were—not about the hurt, not about the cracks that formed between you, but about what lay beneath them. He wasn’t running because you didn’t matter. He was running because you mattered too much. And it took breaking everything apart for you both to understand how to rebuild it.

Your gaze falls to the tattoo on your ring finger, a faint mark that once felt like a brand tethering you to emptiness. It’s still there, as permanent as the scars this marriage once bore. But now, it’s different. It’s not a reminder of disappointment or neglect, not a mark of the silence that stretched between you. It’s a symbol of endurance, of a love that’s messy and flawed but undeniably real.

But you’ve learned that love isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up, about facing the hard truths and still choosing to stay.

“Busy” may have once been his excuse. But now, “always” is his answer.

Always.