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luvsicktyun · 3 days ago

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୨ৎ. INVISIBLE STRING p.sh

ᨳ ׄ ׅ ꒰ 45k ꒱⠀ ‎ູㅤ ‎ིྀ ⸺ word count.

𝓹airings 𝜗𝜚 soulmate ! sunghoon ៹ fem ! reader ᧁ ; smut ˒ supernatural? ˒ red string theory ˒ office romance

𝔀arnings ꒱ . smut angst graphic depictions of injuries grandparent/parental death death in general

𝓲n which ⑅ ㅤׄ ⠀ ‎𓈒 alexa play ❝ invisible string ❞ by taylor swift ‎ིྀ ⸺ They say when someone you love dies it takes a piece of who you were and a piece of who you were going to be. You met the love of your life the day you died; and it took something from you. It changed who you were and you don’t know if you’d ever want it back. Sunghoon was tied to you, two tangled souls connected by one invisible red string but you didn’t know it, until it was too late.

★ ! 𝓻ain's mic is on ── iykyk about this fic fr...I've been working on this bad boy since like the beginning of December...which If you know me is a while. I've stopped writing it for a while but randomly I just knew I needed too pick it back up and finish it. I'm sorry in advance for the use of y/n (i started this before i stopped using it, sorry guys). I love this story line so much and the amount of pure thought I put into is...it's a lot. I hope you all enjoy it and love it just as much as I do. thank you.

They say when someone you love dies it takes a piece of who you were and a piece of who you were going to be. Lying on her deathbed your grandmother hands you a small red bracelet, one so flimsy you felt as if it could snap between your fingertips. Dainty like a small red string. And with the last few breaths that she had left in her she told you something you would never forget. “This bracelet is a representation of what I'm about to take from you.” She took a deep agonizing breath before continuing. “When I die, I will take some of your joy, some of your light. I Don't want to but I will. This red string here represents what is to come, who is to come and when it becomes important to you, because it will. Think of me and what I've always told you about your very own red string of fate.”

The words left her mouth in a sigh. Her eyes closed peacefully as your heart shattered. Taking the string you wrapped it around your wrist vowing to never let it go.

5 years later.

You were going to be late.The rain served as a catalyst to your anger and resentment of this day. Looking outside of your cramped apartment window to see it pouring rain when you have to walk to work has put a severe damper on your already more than pissy mood. Not including the fact that you were up at all hours of the night because the thin material of your walls in this run down apartment building left very little to be desired, especially when it came to your neighbors very active love life.

Pounding on the wall had been no help as the screams of their pleasure just grew, almost as if they were trying to spite you. Spite you because it was four in the morning and you had to be up in three hours and spite you because a very small part of you was jealous that your neighbor was getting laid and you weren’t and hadn’t for well over a year now. So, in turn, waking up when the sun was only beginning to rise was a very new form of hell you hadn’t yet experienced.

Rolling yourself out of bed, brushing your teeth and making yourself look somewhat presentable was the equivalent of hauling a two ton car up a flight of stairs but you did it. You walked down the sidewalk raincoat over your head as you tried your best at keeping the rain from soaking your straightened hair. Finally approaching the crosswalk you were relieved to see it had not been crowded this morning. Which was rather unusual for a monday morning in seoul but you would take your wins as they came.

A man stood at the crosswalk, phone in hand not paying you even a single glance. He was beautiful. You could definitely admit that and his attire for the day had told you that he was dressed for a day at the office. His dark hair was a stark contrast to his very light skin. His face dotted with the cutest little moles you had ever seen. He was a sight to behold, captivatingly beautiful.

Not wanting to seem like a creep for staring, you turned your head downwards, fiddling with the red string bracelet you had worn every second of everyday for the last five years since your grandmother died. The light had turned green finally signaling for you to walk after what seemed like forever of waiting in awkward silence next to what might be the most beautiful man you would ever live to see. The rain continued its assault on you, pelting down hard and fast.

Your rain boots sloshed as you walked.

But suddenly you felt the snap, very lightly you felt the singular snap of the red string on your wrist. It had come undone and like a scene in a movie it had fallen before your eyes in slow motion. Falling to the rain soaked pavement of the very busy street you were crossing. You knew it was dumb, stupid even but still you bent down reaching for the string and again, like a scene in a movie hearing the voice of the beautiful man calling out for you to watch out and the screech of the van tires hurtling towards you were heard just a second too late, it was dark.

You were scared of death as much as the next person. More afraid of not knowing what happens after you die. If you say that death doesn’t scare you, you're lying. How can you not be afraid of what you don’t know? It was a thought you truly couldn't fathom.

With a gasp of breath and a pound in your head you had escaped death. Opening your eyes to the sun glaring in them penetrating your closed eyelids. “Woah! Are you ok?” A voice asked you. You had finally noticed a hand tightly gripping your wrist. Opening your eyes you're met with the most beautiful man you had ever seen…again? Groggily you looked around noticing you were no longer on the street but on the sidewalk. “What happened?” You groaned holding your head. “It feels like I've been hit by a truck.”

With his hand still on your wrist the man helped you up “You just fell over” He murmured. The tiny red string on his wrist caught you off guard. You could think of nothing else as you stared down at it. You glanced down at your own wrist only to notice that it was bare, you weren’t wearing the red bracelet your grandmother had given you. “Where did you get that?” You asked, yanking your hand from his hold. “Why do you have my bracelet?”

“What?” He questioned with shock. “This is mine.”

“But..” You stammered out “I had one just like it and it's missing.” Your head was pounding so hard you had begun to feel it behind your eyelids.

“I’m sorry yours is missing but this is from my grandfather.” with your head still aching you decided to let it go. He seemed genuine and you didn’t have the vitality to argue with him any further.

“Are you alright?” The man said once again. Nodding you dusted your clothing off noticing the now beautiful clear sky.

“Where did the rain go?” You asked. He looked confused again, an expression you were now deeming adorable on him. You may be a little woozy but a girl would always recognize an attractive man when presented to her.

“It hasn’t rained today” He said, you really wish you could know his name. “Are you sure you're alright?” He cautiously inquired. Nodding once again you had half a mind to look down at your watch, your mind fleeting again to the fact that your wrist was now bare. Your red missing bracelet was something you were definitely going to agonize over later but for now, you were most certainly going to be late. On your very first day of the job.

“I’m alright!” You squeaked out. “I’ve got to go” You made your way safely across the street before deciding to make a dash for it. You had exactly four minutes to make it there in time and it was a little over six minute walk. Speeding down the sidewalk you had no time to mull over what the hell just happened.

You could have sworn to the high heavens that it was raining and that you most definitely had your bracelet on when you left your apartment this morning and you vaguely remembered walking across the street and your bracelet breaking. Shaking the thought off you finally arrived. Only looking up at the building for a split second before rushing inside.

“Hi” You breathed heavily to the receptionist. “I’m here for my first day in-”

“Are you Y/n L/n” She cut you off, her voice laced with disinterest for anything you would have to say beside yes or no.

“Yes” Deciding to be curt as to not upset her more.

“Floor nine. Minji will see you through.” She slapped a white badge onto the countertop in front of you. “Here’s your badge, have a wonderful career at seoul inc.” Contrary to her cheery words her voice was monotonous, lacking any depth or feeling. Dumbly nodding your head you took the white badge in your hands and made your way to the elevator.

“Floor nine, floor nine” You whispered to yourself over and over again.

The elevator ride was short and sweet, just how you liked it. You hated when elevators took forever it gave you time to become anxious and becoming anxious was the last thing you wanted to do today. Your head still reeled for the events that took place not even twenty whole minutes ago and adding on a bout of anxiety really would do you no justice.

In true cliche fashion you allowed yourself a small pep talk. Reassuring yourself that everything would be ok, that you had landed the job so at least someone here liked you enough to hire you. Everything would be A OK, as your grandmother always said.

Arriving at the front desk you’re met with a lot more peppy woman. Short probably in her mid to late fifties this woman looked to have lived and loved ten times over. A small pang rang through your chest as the warmth radiating from this woman had reminded you of your grandmother. The small desk plate in front of her read ‘minji’ and right then and there you knew you were in the right place.

“Hello” You spoke as professionally as you could. “I’m Y/n L/n and I'm here for my first day.” MInji smiled at you, the warmth once again seeping into your bones. Instantaneously your anxiety and worries almost completely dissipated.

“Hello dear, you're just in time!” She grabbed a few papers from her pile on her desk in front of her then swung out of her chair. “Mr. Park seems to be a few minutes late so i’ll quickly introduce you to a few of your colleagues that are a part of your team.” Following closely behind her you felt a wave of giddiness overcome you. Starting anew to you, had felt like starting a new life. You were so excited to kick it into full gear. Especially with the little to no support from your family back at home.

Knowing that you would not be coming home to help run their shop had made them make the ultimate decision of disowning you. Not that they had ever truly been proud of who you were to begin with. Being an only child of two adults that never wanted children in the first place had always left you feeling a hole in your heart with a parent's love should fill. Luckily for you, you had your grandmother who had acted as your mother and father figure all rolled into one. Your grandfather having passed away only a year after your birth and your grandmother never remarrying had made the two of you's relationship that much stronger. It had only really been the two of you together all the time.

Especially because your parents were always away at the shop. Tending to and looking after the only thing they truly loved. Having a child was never in their plans and boy did they make that obvious. They looked at you as a legacy for their business and when you had broken the news to tell them it wouldn't happen, well they just had no use for you then. They discarded you like a broken toy in their very coveted and well respected toy shop. Ironic isn't it?

Running a toy shop but never wanting children, neglecting your own. The irony had always been daunting. Most people around you had assumed you had the best childhood. They assumed you had a childhood full of wonderful toys and parents who cherished you and showered you with the marvelous gifts that they sold but they were wrong. Very wrong. It had made you a person who no longer judged books by their covers because after all looks can be deceiving.

Your father had grown up with a fascination for toys and collectables and he never truly outgrew that as an adult. Instead he turned it into a hobby and then into a career dragging your mother along until she learned to love it just as much as he did.

“Alrighty” Minji said with exhilaration. “This right here will be your cubicle.” She pointed to a reasonably sized cubicle, its contents almost completely empty save for your basic office supplies like a computer, chair and pencil holder full of pens and pencils. “Decorate it however you would like. Being the visual department we always expect you guys to have the most put together cubicles.” She smiled at you warmly. Gesturing you to follow her only a few steps further she pointed to another cubicle, this one now occupied. “This is Wonyoung, she's one of your partners.”

“Busy.” Wonyoung said pointedly typing away at her computer.

“She’s a sweet girl when she's caffeinated.” Minji laughed, “Hun, I have some fresh coffee brewing for you in the lounge, go grab a cup.”

“Minji, I could kiss you, I'm exhausted.” Wonyoung rose from her seat. For a moment you were stunned by her pure beauty. She wore a knitted dress that fell to the middle of her thighs, and a long sleeve turtleneck underneath it. Her hair in two braids on either side of her head.

“Nice to meet you by the way” a radiant smile graced her features. “Jay is that way. I’m excited to be working with another girl. I’m soooo tired of being surrounded by men, yuck.” She stuck her tongue out mockingly before be-lining for what you could only assume was the lounge.

“Let me take you to jay.” Minji made her way down only two more cubicles before stopping in front of another one. This time occupied by a man, who you assumed was Jay.

“Good morning Mrs. Lee” Jay chirped, his expression was radiating all things positive. You had already felt safe around him.

“Good morning sweetheart this is Y/n the new cover designer and a part of your team. I wanted to introduce you guys before Sunghoon arrived.”

“Hi Y/n” Jay waved “Nice to meet you.”

You nodded at him, taking a slight bow. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Sunghoon isnt here yet?” Jay’s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion looking around the two of you probably in search of Sunghoon.

“Not yet but I'm sure he’ll be strolling in at any minute. You all have a meeting in” Minji looked down at her watch “Three minutes. He’ll be here if he’s not already in his office getting ready.”

“He hasn’t come down to meet Y/n yet?”

“No, not yet. I’m sure he’s waiting until you guys meet.” Standing there dumbly as you waited for them to finish their conversation a sense of once again, anxiety hit you like a wave. You assumed the Sunghoon they were referring to was your boss but what kind of boss didn’t come down to meet their new employees? One that he would be working with closely might you add. It set a strong precedent to who this man was and truthfully that worried you a bit. You had gotten such good first impressions from Minji, Jay and Wonyoung so much so that you were beginning to become even more excited to work alongside them. But none of that really mattered if your boss was a grade A asshole. Having a shit boss made your life in the workplace hell. Something you were mature enough to admit scared the hell out of you.

You were only hoping and praying that Sunghoon was a super perfectionist and took his time making sure that these meetings ran smoothly rather than a man who, with power, made it extremely difficult to coexist with them.

“It’s about that time anyway” Jay rose from his seat grabbing his coffee cup in his hand. “I’ll take Y/n with me to the meeting room Minji, go sit back down and relax.” Minji smiled at Jay reaching her hand to lightly pat his cheek affectionately.

“Thank you sweetheart.” Turning to you she handed you the papers she had brought with her. “Good luck Y/n, you let me know if you need anything ok?” tilting your head in agreement you took the papers from her outstretched hands. Thanking her quietly as she walked back down the room of cubicles.

“Sweetest woman you'll ever meet, I swear.” Jay said. “Come on. Wonyoung is most likely already there we can mee-”

Not being able to control your motor-like mouth you blurt out the one thing on your mind since discussing your boss, completely cutting Jay off in the process.

“Is he mean?” You knew how childish it sounded. It was like setting up a playdate with your friends at five years old. Quizzing them to find out if their parents were ‘meanies” like yours. But honestly, you didn't care. You needed to know even if that made you sound like a kid in the process.

“Sunghoon?” Jay’s surprise at your question did not go unnoticed but once again you couldn't find it in yourself to care. The question was a pressing matter you would argue.

“He’s …” He took his time to find his words “He’s a bit standoffish but once you get to know him he's a really nice guy.”

His words had not soothed your worries at all. In total honesty they had only worsened the pit of perturbation brewing in your belly. You would try everything you could at ensuring that Sunghoon liked you, or at least tolerated you enough to show you respect. It might be dumb to make all of these bold assumptions before knowing the man but you couldn't help your wondering and worrying mind.

It was how you operated, how you got by in life. You had always been that way and you didn't see not for a second you not being that way.

“Really” Jay assured you as the two of you began your descent towards what you were hoping was not your demise “He’s harmless. He acts more like an asshole than he is.”

“You'd call your boss an asshole out loud?” You asked in astonishment.

“Me and Sunghoon have been friends for as long as I can remember. There is not even an ounce of me that is intimidated by him.” Jay's ability to be calm and collected had left you a bit envious. This was the worst part about starting a new job. Adjusting.

Getting adjusted to new people, new surroundings and new procedures was taxing, it was something you dreaded when starting a new job.

“And you shouldn't be either.” Jay continued, but before you could respond you had arrived at the meeting room. The clear windows had allowed you to see inside. Stopping in your tracks you were sure you looked like a deer in headlights.

“Who is that?” You asked Jay pointing to the man that stood at the head of the table sifting through papers in front of him.

“That’s Sunghoon.”

The words had made your heart drop to your stomach. That was the beautiful man from this morning. The one who had picked you up off the ground. The one wearing your red bracelet. Well, according to him it wasn't yours but that was still to be determined. Here he was standing just inside this room, as your new boss.

A part of you had felt slightly relieved. The sunghoon you had met this morning wasn't at all Standoffish or rude. He was kind and although being confused and then accused of taking your bracelet he still had not shown any disdain or attitude towards you.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad afterall and Jay was just exaggerating about him because they were friends. You had hope.

Feeling a bit of whiplash from all the events that had led up to this moment. You were certain that you had woken up to the rain pelting your windows and roof but instead the air was clear and sunny. You walking out of your apartment with the red bracelet on your wrist was almost irrefutable but still your wrist is left bare. You had imagined your bracelet falling onto the floor but you hadn't even reached the street yet when you woke up on the ground, Sunghoon hovering over you.

Opening the door to the room you stepped inside. Wonyoung sat on a chair to the right and Jay circled around sitting directly across from her, sending a shy smile her way.

“Dude, where have you been?” Jay asked. Sunghoon hadn't looked up from his papers just yet. He blew a gush of air from his lips shaking his head almost bitterly. “I had the weirdest dream last night then this morning a woman fell-” The words died in his throat as his head rose, his eyes meeting yours. An expression similar to the one you had outside the doors of the meeting room. Like a deer in freaking headlights. The expression had only lasted a short second before he dropped it, a now stoic one taking its place.

“Goodmorning.” You said shyly. “I’m doing fine by th-” cutting you off Sunghoon sat down in his chair, clearing his throat loudly.

“Good Morning Ms. L/n find yourself a seat so we can get started.”

You didn’t miss the axiomatic expressions of confusion written all over Jay’s and Wonyoung’s face. They weren't stupid. They knew without a doubt how strange this interaction was. They did the smart thing and ignored it. For now.

A squeak of surprise left your lips, the confusion written all over your face probably very evident.

Sitting in the nearest chair the overarching feeling of dread seeped back in. Clouding your mind. You reached down out of habit to grab your bracelet but you were met with the coldness of your bare skin. Bile rose in your throat but you did your best to suppress it. Choking it down like acid.

Jay and Wonyoung looked uneasy in their seats but still, they decided to say nothing. For that, you were grateful. Trying to explain what had just transpired would be a dumpster fire situation that you had no knack for at the moment.

“I’m Park Sunghoon. You can call me Sunghoon, I'm the director of the seoul magazine visual team and Jay, wonyong and yourself work directly under me. We are considered a team, so we must work as such. I expect that from you, have I been heard?” You nodded, not daring to utter a single word.

“I understand you were hired for cover design, correct?” Sunghoon opened a manilla folder in front of him which contained only what you could assume was your previous works. He began sifting through the pages analyzing every single one with potent accuracy.

“Y-yes” You cursed yourself for stuttering, for allowing this man to take your wits from you. He had shaken you to your core at his contrast of personality. Although you had only met Sunghoon today and knew very little of the man you had a crippling wonder of who Sunghoon really was. Was he the man you had met this morning? The one who had you picked you up when you fell, who had been kind and caring enough to ask if you were ok. Or was he this man, the cold hearted uncaring one who cut people off mid sentence. You truly didn't know, and that thought scared you.

“Down to business” Sunghoon continued. “We have a big project coming up. We have a new girl group debuting that needs front cover coverage. We have to make them look stellar. I’m talking about bold fonts, attention to detail with colors and we have to be very careful with editing. Do you think you can make that happen?”

“Of course” You said more confidently this time. “You can count on me.”

“And if we can't we have a ton of other well equipped applicants chomping at the bit for your position. Do not mess this up.” Sunghoon rose from his seat, gathering all of his papers with him. “Project is due exactly three months from now.” With that Sunghoon was out the door. A silence so heavy had followed. You could hear a pin drop. It was that quiet. Wonyoung and Jay shared a glance that you couldn't quite decipher and in all honestly you weren’t up to even trying.

All hope of Sunghoon liking you had fled, leaving a cold dead feeling in its wake.

“What a jerk,” Wonyoung laughed awkwardly. “He’s not usually like that..”

“Jay said he was standoffish…” You trailed off looking down at the table in front of you. “That was a little more than standoffish.” You tried your best to keep your resolve but at the end of the day you were only human and the weight of the events that took place had started to crash into you. You could feel the tiredness deep in your bones. You still had a full day ahead of you and truthfully you didn't know how it was going to go or how you were going to manage to survive it.

“I’m sorry about him..” Jay had looked more embarrassed than anything and weirdly enough that had given you a bit of comfort, knowing that even his friends and colleagues acknowledge how much of an asshole he just was to you.

“Don’t worry Y/n he’ll warm up to you in no time!” Wonyoung hopped over to you.

“I’m sure he’ll get very toasty.” You cringed at your attempt at a joke but by the way Wonyoung threw her head back in laughter had left you feeling just a little bit better about what had just transpired. If Sunghoon wasn’t the type to be warm and welcoming you were glad that Jay and Wonyoung were.

It was only lunchtime and you were beginning to rethink all of your life choices. Not only did your head still severely ache from your fall this morning, but Sunghoon hasn't even begun to let up on you. Dropping by almost every hour to check on your progress, then nit picking it until you've changed almost every single detail. It had been a day from hell and it still wasn't even over yet.

Gathering yourself you made your way to the lounge, Wonyoung trailing beside you. “I hope Sunghoon isn't discouraging you too much. He’s very passionate about the covers we make, he just likes them to be perfect.” In all honesty her attempt at helping had only made it worse for you. You wouldn't blame her for that though. She was just trying to help you understand the way Sunghoon was.

“He changed basically the entire layout draft.” You deadpanned, your annoyance very pellucid. Wonyoung cringed at your candor.

“If it makes you feel any better, Jay and I think that it was a solid first attempt.”

“That does not make me feel any better but thank you.” A laugh fell from your lips as you said it. You and wonyoung had already started getting comfortable with one another. Your cubicles were fairly close and she was definitely the yappy type, but you didn't mind. It had passed the time by more quickly, having someone to talk to about mindless stuff. “I just don't understand why Sunghoon hates me so much. I don't see what I did wrong.” Opening the door to the lounge you were met with the most delicious smells. Your stomach grumbled and for the first time all day you were realizing just how hungry you were.

“Sunghoon doesn't hate you,” Wonyoung said quietly, presumably to make sure no one around you was listening in on your conversation. The lounge was shared with more than just your department judging by the fact that there were definitely more than twenty plus people in here. “Like I said, he's just very particular about the covers. He takes pride in his work. And him being an asshole to you, well that i don't know. You tell me considering the look you two shared when we walked into the meeting room this morning.” She snickered at you as the two of you approached the table of food. It was a big breakfast bar. Breakfast for lunch, yum.

“Do the two of you know each other?” She asked out right. You shook your head immediately, probably looking a bit suspicious.

“No, not at all.” The look wonyoung gave you made you feel like she didn't believe you. “I met him this morning on the way here. I had fallen and hit my head and he helped me up that's all. I didn't know the beautiful stranger helping me was going to be my boss but I guess that's just my luck.”

“Beautiful huh?” Her lips rising in a teasing smirk. Cursing yourself for your word vomit you felt the apples of your cheeks heating up as embarrassment usurped you.

“Well..i-i mean he- well” You stuttered like an idiot as you tried your best at regaining your pride and collecting your barings.

“It’s ok” Wonyoung giggled, placing her hand on your bare wrist in comfort. “I understand. I’m a woman. I know that Sunghoon is an attractive man, I'm not blind. He's just not my type.”

“What is your type?” You asked her, once again letting your intrusive thoughts win. You really had to stop doing that before you offend someone.

“Jay” Wonyoung stated simply with a small shrug. Mid scooping up scrambled eggs you froze, turning to look at her with the goofiest smile on your face.

“You like Jay?” You whisper shouted at her.

“I don’t just like Jay, I'm in love with Jay.” Her frankness had amazed you. How was it so easy to just admit that she was in love with Jay, you wished that you had half as much courage as she did.

“Why don’t you say anything?” You asked her.

“I will, just when the time is right. We're so busy here all the time. I don't want to over complicate his work even more with having a girl two cubicles down from him fawning over him and he doesn't love her back, do you know how embarrassing that would be?” We had finally gathered all of your food making your way to an empty table.

“I get it.” and you did get it. Although you've never really been in love before you knew how it felt to not want to inconvenience the people you loved. Although it might not be the exact same thing you had felt similar feelings when it came to telling your parents that you wouldn't be pursuing their dreams but instead you'd be pursuing your own.

“Jay is coming.” Wonyoung announced, signaling the end of the conversation as we knew it. The both of you knew it wasn’t the true end. You would definitely be re visiting the topic soon enough.

After a tiringly long day you were more than glad to finally be free to go home. Ssunghoon had only visited you two more times then after that you hadn’t seen him again for the rest of the day. Each conversation had been short, curt and he had never looked you in your eyes. Opting to stare at the keyboard in front of you or at the wall to the side of you. He never looked at you. It had felt degrading and dehumanizing.

Once you arrived home taking the elevator up to your apartment had felt like the longest ride you had ever been on, and once outside of your door you glanced at your neighbors, the sight of a bright yellow slip on it catching your eye.

‘Vacant. For rent, talk to the office for details.’ Confusion took over you for what seemed like the millionth time that day. Vacant? That couldn't be right. Your neighbor had no signs of moving at all. Hell, he had been up all night banging random girls for the past week now. How could it have been vacant so suddenly? Deciding it wasn’t worth mulling over at the moment you entered your apartment readying yourself for bed. At least you won't be bothered with his nightly hookups anymore, that was the bright side of all of this.

The more pressing matter at hand wass finding the bracelet your grandmother gave you. You tried gaslighting yourself into believing you had taken it off sometime this morning, but that was really really not like you at all. You never took that thing off no matter what. Not to shower, not for anything. You've been wearing it for five years so there was no way it could have just slipped off could it? It's never done that before and it wasn't loose. You would have noticed if it was loose.

Looking your apartment over top to bottom has proven no help. The fucking bracelet was nowhere to be found. Your chest started to tighten and suddenly it felt a bit harder to breathe. You knew you were having a panic attack, you could feel it. You haven't had one in a while but you could distinguish that feeling anywhere. Feeling like you were dizzy, as if you were going to throw up everywhere, or faint, or both.

You needed that bracelet. Over the years you have become dependent on the familiarity of it. It felt like an extra layer of skin, or a tattoo forever inked into you. That bracelet was the equivalent to a child with their baby blanket or a stuffy they just had to have in order to sleep at night. That bracelet was branded into your heart, it was the one and only thing you had left of your grandmother and it was just …gone?

It made no sense. Scouring your apartment once again, feeling as if you were going crazy. It had to be here somewhere. Or maybe you had dropped it off on the way to the crosswalk this morning? But all you could remember was the rain and how it had fallen over you like tiny little pellets.

Sunghoon said it hadn't rained at all though. So what could you actually recall from this morning that was actually true? How hard did you hit your head?

Deciding to calm yourself down for the night you prepared yourself a bath with extra good smelling soaps in it. You need to take a breather, you'll find the bracelet it has to be around here somewhere for sure.

You kept repeating that phrase in your head even after you got out of the bath and while you brushed your hair and your teeth. It's here somewhere….it's here somewhere…you'll find it tomorrow. As you fell asleep for the night the phrase continued to circulate your mind. It was the only thing keeping your heart caged, helping so it wouldn't burst from your chest with nervousness. And even as you woke up in the morning you thought it over and over again. So much so that for a fleeting moment you forgot about sunghoon and how much he hated you.

You were quickly reminded once you stepped foot into the office area the next day.

Sunghoon stood at your desk, waiting for you. You felt like absolutely shit and knew you looked it too. Internally groaning you made your way to him.

“Good morning Sunghoon.” You spoke quietly, almost as if you were trying to poke and prod at him like a giant angrily sleepy bear. In fear that in a fit of rage he’d explode and eat you alive.

“Morning. We have a meeting in five minutes.” His words were short and curt as he turned on his heels and walked away, leaving you to gape at him from behind. He was talking to Jay now quietly, almost hushed like he didn't want anyone to hear them. You didn’t care what they were talking about, not really so you turned to your work trying hard to ignore the simmering feeling inside of you.

You haven't felt like yourself since yesterday and today you felt even weirder. Deciding to ignore it you gathered your things making your way to the meeting room to ensure you were earlier than everyone else was.

You concluded right then and there that you would no longer show Sunghoon that you feared him. This was the only way to gain his respect. Show him you're serious about the job and mean no funny business when it comes to your art. You loved cover design and you recognize just how lucky you were to get this position. You mean business, and you were damn sure going to show it.

Wonyoung was the second person to walk through the doors. Well, more like burst through the doors.

“I’m here! I’m here” She gasped out, carrying an insanely large stack of papers in her hand. Stopping in her tracks when she noticed it was just the two of you in there alone.

“Those bastards.” She cursed, setting the papers down with a slam. “Fucking bastards” She continued to mutter under her breath.

“Uhh…are you ok?” You asked with concern.

“No!” She shouted throwing her hands up in the air, overly dramatic might you add but you were slowly learning that that was just Wonyoung’s style. “Jay and Sunghoon texted me and said I was super late! That I better run here quickly. I didn't even stop to put my stuff down.” Noticing her big fur jacket you stifled a laugh. “They're not even here yet. Oh when I see those two they're dead.”

“Last I saw they were over by the cubicles” You giggled out. Wonyoung’s eyes turned to slits as she watched you laugh.

“It’s not funny” She whined, running her hands through her hair to try and fix it up “i look a mess.”

“You don't look bad at all.” You smiled trying to offer her some resemblance of hope while in reality she looked absolutely gorgeous while also simultaneously looking like she had just rolled out of bed at the same time.

Before she could spit a rebuttal out the sound of the door opening garnered your attention. Sunghoon and Jay sautered in with two cups of coffee in each hand.

“Looking good Won.” Jay snickered, holding the cup of coffee up to her. “Caffeine?”

“I’m going to strangle you both.” She spewed out, her face bright red with anger and embarrassment.

“That's no way to talk to your boss.” You didn’t miss the way Sunghoon walked past you slowly, only bending down slightly beside you to set the warm cup of coffee he was holding down in front of you on the table. He said nothing to you. No acknowledgement besides that. You didn't know how to feel. It wasn't like he specially brought you a coffee, they also brought themselves one along with Wonyoung. Good to know he wasn't so cruel as to exclude you from something as trivial as a coffee run. At least you were thought about in some capacity.

“Thank you” You spoke up, remembering what you had vowed to yourself earlier. Sunghoon gave no inclination that he heard you. Instead he opted for ignoring you. Once again, not meeting your eyes.

“I’m sorry i wasn't sure if you heard me” You said a little louder “I said thank you.” Sunghoon’s face flashed with shock along with Wonyoung and Jay’s who had stopped bickering with each other once they heard you speak with deeper professionalism opposed to your usual stuttering and murmured words.

“I heard you the first time.” Sunghoon grit his teeth. His canines now on full display. A fleeting part of your mind had thought it to be annoyingly hot. You pissed him off but you couldn’t find it in you to care. In reality you enjoyed it. Maybe too much.

“Well I wasn't able to tell since you didn't bother to say anything back. ”

“It wasn't important.”

“Well it's common courtesy.”

“I don't do common.”

“Clearly.” LIke a scene in a movie, your constant banter had Wonyoung and Jay’s heads spinning. Whipping back and forth almost as quickly as your comebacks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sunghoon said, his eyes narrowing in on you.

“It means that when someone says thank you the normal response is to say you're welcome.” You weren't done and he could tell. He was becoming more and more agitated each time you spoke. You even started to worry that you were crossing a line. Taking it too far perhaps but the overachiever in you wouldn't allow you to stop.

“For god sake sunghoon just tell her you're welcome.” Wonyoung huffed out, rolling her eyes at your admitted childish behavior.

“You're welcome.” Sunghoon grit out. The words falling from his lips had looked like they were dipped in poison. He forced them out in one fail swoop. A part of you wanted to keep going, to tell him you knew he wasn't sincere but you refrained.

That was enough rebelance for one day. You just hoped that Sunghoon knew you were not done. That there was more where that came from.

“Let's begin.” Sunghoon walked to the white board at the end of the table. Like the true boss he was, Sunghoon fixed his suit jacket and cleared his throat.

“As I said in the previous meeting, this cover is due three months from now. And for the newer people-”

“Y/n.” You interjected, reminding him of your name out of spite.

“And for Y/n-” Sunghoon bit out “That might seem like a long time but let me-”

“It’s actually not long at all to me” You interjected again. That seemed to only further Sunghoon’s anger.

“I’d like to get through this presentation without being interrupted.”

“I’d like to get through it without having assumptions thrown my way. If you'd like to know what I can or cannot handle just ask me. There are only four of us in here, it's not a crowded room.” A smirk made its way on your features “You know, in case you're scared of big crowds or anything.”

Wonyoung stifled a laugh behind her closed fist. Her and Jay acting as an audience to yours and Sunghoon’s show. Jay made a show of kicking her ankle under the table but it had only furthered Wonyoung’s giggling.

“I’m fine.” Sunghoon looked down at the table for a moment, taking the time to compose himself. You sat still. The smirk gone from your lips, a serious expression taking precedence. Although bickering at Sunghoon was funny, you didn't want to stray away from what you were really trying to achieve here. And that was to gain professional respect from Sunghoon. Ssure, this might be an immature way to go about it but you felt as if it were the only way. You had to show him that he could just yank you around with his words and you'd just stay compliant. No, you knew how to do your job and you knew how to do it well.

“Like I was saying.” Sunghoon continued. “This cover is due in three months. So far we have images of what they're wearing but obviously they are edited.” Turning to you, Sunghoon set down a few papers.

They were previous editions that this group haad done pre-debut.

“This is how they like to be portrayed. Girly, sweet and innocent. So that’s how we will deal with this issue. Is that understood?” Nodding along you felt it best to keep any rebuttals at bay.

“Don't we think it’s a little crazy that they want them to portray sweet innocent girls when in reality they’re nightmares to work with.” Wonyoung interjected.

“What?” You asked with confusion. “Aren't they a new girl group?”

“Well, yes but we did a cover for them when they were all first announced. They came in to see it and absolutely hated it.” Wonyoung pointed at a specific cover in front of you, one you didn't recognize. “The leader ripped it to shreds. They didn't want it coming out ever. I’m surprised they are even working with us again considering how much they berated us last time.”

“Unfortunately we can't pick who we work with so, we'll just do our best at making the cover look so good they can't hate anything about it.” Sunghoon said while putting away the pages he had set down on the table.

“Easy for you to say Suyu loves you.” Wonyoung rolled her eyes again.

“Yeah, didn't she ask you on a date.” Jay laughed. “Should have gone for it honestly.”

“I don't date.” Sunghoon said with a curt nod. “I had no interest in her.”

“Don't be so uptight hoonie maybe you just need to get laid-”

“Excuse me, that's not an appropriate topic for work and especially not in front of a new hire.” Sunghoon hissed at Wonyoung, a teasing smile spreading across her face. “Also don't call me hoonie, I already told you that.”

“I don't mind,” You said with a shrug. “I think it’s funny.”

“Of course you do,” Sunghoon muttered, shaking his head bitterly. “I’ll see you guys at lunch.” Walking out the door was the last signal Wonyoung and Jay. The two burst into a fit of laughter, Wonyoung so hard tears started falling down the apples of her cheeks. “Oh god!” she wheezed “Y/n that was so funny”

“You really pissed him off,” Jay chuckled with a shake of his head.

“I’m just trying to show him that I'm worth respecting, that's all.” You simply said. You began to gather all of your things in your hands. The laughs of Wonyoung and Jay are still ringing in your ears. You tried your best at suppressing a smile. You should really pat yourself on the back for that one. You were one step closer to getting Sunghoon off your back. But also a part of you had enjoyed the back and forth with him. You had enjoyed just how flustered and annoyed he got. A part of you had felt hot over it. You've said it before and you could really say it a million times over. Sunghhoon was attractive, insanely so. But something that he said had caught your attention. “I don't date.”

It left you wondering why. Asking yourself if something had happened, something like a failed relationship or daddy issues. The nosey person inside of you wanted to ask, but that was one line you knew for certain you wouldn't cross. It was one thing to banter about work and the formalities of it but you certainly did not question someone on their personal lives, especially if you hardly know them.

That didnt mean you wouldn't wonder. You most certainly will wonder about it. But asking was 100% off the table, no matter how badly you wanted to do it.

The rest was mostly uneventful. Sunghoon came to visit a few times but didn’t say much of anything to you. It left you feeling somewhat accomplished upon leaving the office.

As you were half way out the building doors you heard your name being called, loudly.

“Y/n!!” Whipping around you spot Wonyoung rushing towards you. Her coat and sunglasses on as she was also leaving for the day.

“Hey!” She said halting in front of you, her breath was heavy from sprinting towards you. “I just wanted to ask if you would like to meet up tonight for drinks and appetizers. There is this really cute spot downtown that I go to often.”

You had to admit that you weren't much of an outing person. Much preferring to stay indoors with a warm cup of tea and a good book. But for some odd reason Wonyoung’s invitation had excited you. You didn't know how long it's been since you've been out with a friend. A really long time you suppose.

In truth you didn't have many friends anyways. Back home you had one singular friend who you still spoke to from time to time, Chaewon. She was your oldest friend and every time you saw her it was like you had never been apart. You also had a few friends here and there in college but nothing really stuck. You could see yourself without a doubt being good friends with wonyoung. She was funny, smart, pretty and she truly cared about you.

She treated you with the utmost kindness upon meeting her and you had never, ever felt left out around her and Jay. That's why accepting her invitation was no trouble at all.

“Of course.” You smiled, “i’d love to”

“Great!” Wonyoung clapped her hands “I'll text you the address! See you at like ... .seven?” Looking at your watch you had noticed that it just turned four fifteen, giving you ample time to go home and ready yourself.

“See you at seven.” You nodded, turning away with the biggest and cheesiest grin on your face. Racing home to get ready you had a strong urge to pass the crosswalk that you had been at the morning you met Sunghoon. The morning you had lost your red bracelet. You still found it and truthfully you were trying everything you could not to think about it much. When you thought about it you began to panic. You haven't found the courage to ask him about it again. THe man already did not like you for some unknown reason you didn't want to anger him more by accusing him of stealing…again.

Finally getting home you once again noticed the vacant sign on your neighbor's door. You had half a mind to go around and ask when and why he had left so suddenly, and you probably would have done it if you weren't so busy with everything else going on in your life. But once again you decide to ignore it, that seems to be your motto these days. Just ignore everything until it goes away.

It took you practically no time to get ready and out the door. You can't remember a time you had been this excited to go out with a friend. Like you mentioned earlier, going out at all just really isn't your thing, you didn't enjoy settings filled with people and the loudness of it all. You much preferred the serene silence of your home, filled with the familiarity you loved so much

You were early getting to the restaurant so you made an effort in texting Wonyoung that you were there but for her to take her time and not feel rushed.

Entering the restaurant to the chime of the door you were greeted by a hostess. The hostess sat you down with a menu and took your drink order in no time. You took the time to look around at the little bar/restaurant you were at. It was relatively small with very little decor, the lights dimmed and the music blaring through the speakers. It seemed like a place people came to party and eat, it was cute.

Just as you start to settle in, the door chimes again. You don’t need to look up to know—there’s a distinct, comforting energy that surrounds Wonyoung when she enters a room. You hear her laughter first, like a melody, followed by the soft swish of her coat. When you turn, your eyes meet hers, and a warm, familiar feeling spreads through your chest. "Hey!" Wonyoung greets, her voice bright with that signature cheerfulness you’ve admired. But suddenly your breath caught in your throat. Walking in behind her was none other than Sunghoon and Jay.

Walking up to you Wonyoung’s expression held apprehensiveness. She was not sure how you were going to react to Sunghoon being here.

Walking up to your waiting figure Wonyoung sent you a tight lipped smile, one that told you that she knew entirely what she was doing. You forced a smile, but inside, your mind was racing. The last time you’d interacted with Sunghoon had been nothing short of a nightmare. The man was insufferable. He constantly belittled your work, made sarcastic remarks, and had a way of making you feel small with just a glance. Now, here he was, casually strolling into your dinner plans, making everything feel… complicated.

Jay’s had an amused expression on his face, one that had furthered your anger towards the pair. Deciding to not beat around the push you said “Why is he here?” You asked out right, the annoyed look on your face not going unnoticed by the three of them.

Wonyoung chuckled, taking a seat beside you. "I thought it would be fun! You two should get to know each other better outside of work. Jay and I think it would be helpful for the team.”

As Sunghoon sat down across from you, the chair scraping against the floor felt like a loud reminder of how tense the atmosphere had suddenly become. You kept your gaze steady, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing how rattled you were.

But Sunghoon, ever the observant one, smirked. "Don’t look so nervous, Y/n It’s just dinner.” Rolling your eyes you picked up the menu in your hand observing the various courses the restaurant had to offer.

“Like you could ever make me nervous” You said continuing your leisure browse of the menu, trying your hardest to alleviate at least some of the tension that was brewing between the table. “You have a smart mouth. Need I remind you that I'm your boss.” Sunghoon’s face was hard, gone was any sort of amusement. Discontent the only thing in its place.

Scuffing at his words you put the menu down onto the table with a harsh slap, looking at Sunghoon with sharp eyes. “Trust me, I'm reminded every time I walk into the building.”

“Well, you don’t act like it.” Sunghoon’s eyes flared with an emotion you couldn't quite put your finger on.

“Treat me like a respectable employee and I will.” You fired back, not willing to lose this fight.

“Be respectable.”

“Right. Back. atcha.”

“Alright! Alright” Wonyoung threw her hands between the two of you in a dramatic display at being a referee of sorts. “That’s enough. Let’s all get along, we're not at work.”

“She started it-” Sunghoon began to protest. His words were cut short as Woyoung lifted a singular finger pressing them against his lips to shut him up.

“What are you five?” She laughed. “Act like an adult.”

“I’m your boss.” Sunghoon deadpanned. Causing you to roll your eyes at his overused excuse to be an assshole with little to no consequences.

“Give me a break.” You muttered your breath.

“Don't you start.” Wonyoung whipped her head in your direction “You're being just as dramatic as he is.”

“But-” You started out.

“Nope, zip it.”

“OK mom.” You huffed, causing Jay to burst out laughing. Something you could clearly tell he was holding in. Sunghoon’s face was red with embarrassment as his best friend laughed at the two of you, bickering like children.

“You guys are seriously hilarious.” Jay said in between laughs. “Why do you guys hate eachother so much anyways?”

“I don't hate anyone.” You nonchalantly say whilst picking up the menu once again, hopefully for the last time.

“I Don't either.” Sunghoon kicked his friend under the table harshly, annoyed with his constant laughter. “Shut the hell up.”

“Ow, fuck!” Jay hissed. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah order your food.” Sunghoon had the ghost of a smile on his face and for a brief moment you admired him.

You had said it time and time again that Sunghoon was a beautiful man, but staring at him your mind began to wander to unforeseen places. If only Sunghoon wasn't such an asshole, you would begin to think you could develop a superficial crush on him. Looking down at his wrist as he held the menu in his hands you one again noticed the red string he wore. The one that was almost identical to the one you were missing, the one that was currently leaving a gaping hole in your heart. Being without it had felt like being without your skin, and seeing Sunghoon sat in front of you adorning one so similar to yours had felt like pure torture. Looking away from Sunghoon your fingers played at the straw that was sitting in your glass of water. Wonyoung started up a conversation that you were only half paying attention to. Finally after what seemed like forever the waiter came to take your order. You had come in famished but for some reason your stomach was in knots, the appetite you once had now gone.

You were positive that Sunghoon was to blame. Your spat with him only a couple of minutes ago had rendered you emotionally tired.

“Do you want a drink?” Wonyoung asked you softly, “It’s on me.” Smiling softly you nodded not wanting to be a buzzkill with your now sour mood. “Get me whatever you're getting.”

After getting your food and taking small bites here and there you still couldn't shift the awkwardness between you all. The conversation was flowing but still, you and Sunghoon had said nothing to each other. Floating around the conversation to avoid addressing one another. You're doing everything you can to pretend like he's not there, but every time you look up, his gaze somehow finds its way to you. The tension is palpable. You could cut it with a knife.

Wonyoung notices your discomfort, probably sensing that you're deliberately avoiding eye contact with Sunghoon. She tries to pull you into the conversation by telling a funny story, but her voice is barely a cover for the fact that you're hyper-aware of Sunghoon's presence. Every time his voice rings out, it's like a reminder that you're stuck in this moment.

You had this sinking feeling that you were being a buzzkill, that you might be inadvertently ruining the night, you tried your hardest to participate in conversation but it seemed unnatural. You were almost ready to give up for the night. Readying yourself to go home and sink into your bed and never leave it.

It seemed the rest of your party felt the same way. Based on the fatigue in Wonyoung’s eyes and the sluggishness of her gaze. A part of you thought it was the alcohol coursing through her. In the two very long, very agonizing hours you were here you had seen her down at least six drinks. She was sure to be stumbling out of the restaurant.

“I will see you on Monday.” Wonyoung’s voice rang out as he leaned her entire body onto Jay’s for support. He held her upright by her waist and you were sure to catch the look of intimate concern on his face and he stared down at Wonyoung’s drunk state.

“Be careful getting home Won.” You said to her.

“I’ve got her.” Jay spoke softly, grabbing her purse in his hand. Sending him a small smirk you nodded. “I know you do.”

Sunghoon was already at the door saying goodnight to his friends before you could even begin to collect your things. You knew that he didn't like you, that was for certain but him not saying goodbye to you haad stung.

Back wass the feeling of significance because of him, and you hated it. You hated that he had such a tight hold on you. You couldn't understand why. Why did sunghoon’s feelings and opinions on you matter so much, and why did you feel such a strong pull of emotions around him. The thought had irritated you to no end. You just couldn't understand why. Gathering your things you leave the restaurant, your mind and heart a mess.

Monday, you wake up to the sound of your alarm, a grating beep that slices through the comfortable haze of sleep. Your first instinct is to slam the snooze button and pretend for a moment that today is an illusion, that you don’t have to face Sunghoon. You groan, pulling the covers tighter around yourself as if the world outside your bed could just go away. But of course, it doesn't. The moment you even think about calling in sick, you can hear his voice in your head—cool, detached, and just a little too smug. “There are tons of other applicants that are dying to be where you are right now. In this position.” You couldn't bear to listen to it. You hate how his words cling to you, how you can’t just ignore them. The annoying thing about Sunghoon is he’s always right, even when he’s wrong.

But no. You shake the thought away, clenching your fists. You’ve got to go in. You’ve got to deal with him. Because if you don’t, you’ll spend the rest of your day spiraling in your own head, imagining every scenario where you just walk out. Still, you can't help but picture the worst-case scenario in your mind: Sunghoon, smirking as usual, watching you with that infuriatingly unreadable expression. Then he opens his mouth, and everything—your blood, your will to keep it together—starts to boil.

Ransacking your closet has become a daily thing, trying your best to look as presentable as possible. You don't want to give Sunghoon any more ammo to shoot at you with. Plus, this was a fashion magazine job. You just had to look good, or at least look like you knew the difference between your ass and your elbow. Deciding on a simple white blouse and a pair of dark denim jeans you rushed out the door at record speed.

After Friday's fiasco at the restaurant you had felt more nervous than usual to walk into work. You weren't ready to face Sunghoon after the argument the two of you had. You had felt so much embarrassment when you had finally gone home and mulled over exactly what had happened. Sure, Sunghoon is an entitled asshole but he’s right. He’s your boss at the end of the day and you really couldn't afford to get fired.

There is nothing that would hurt more than calling your parents after years of not talking to tell them that you had failed at the career you gave up everything for. That wasn't a humbling experience that you wanted to face. Not now, not ever.

Once you got into the office you flashed Minji a smile before be-lining to your desk. You were trying to go unnoticed by Sunghoon. You really didn't know how you would respond if he came to you being his usual stoic, brazen self. Setting your stuff down you noticed that you were the only one there. Both Jay and Wonyoung were late. You haven't caught a glimpse of Sunghoon yet as well. Something you were thankful for.

You began typing away on your computer, tweaking a few things that you had missed Friday before you left. You noticed a few notes that Sunghoon had left on your doc. Asking you to change a certain color, or a font. You rolled your eyes but did as you were told. You had to admit that some of it did look better then what you originally had. The admittance had made you only slightly angry. You had to remind yourself that this was only your first time doing this professionally, as for Sunghoon who had been doing this for over two years now.

After only a short while of working you're distracted by the sound of an all too familiar giggle.

You catch sight of Wonyoung, and something about her today is different. She’s walking in with Jay, and there's this soft, almost too happy vibe between them. Wonyoung’s smile is a little wider than usual, and her eyes keep flicking toward Jay, as if she can’t help herself. And Jay, for

His part seems a little more careful around her, like he's trying to be sweet without being too obvious, but it’s clear they’re in sync. They’re walking close, way too close for just friends, with her shoulder occasionally brushing his, her voice softening when she speaks. And Jay? He’s laughing at something Wonyoung said, his hand resting casually, almost accidentally on her back, guiding her into the office. That tiny touch says it all. You can see it in the way Wonyoung glances up at him, almost as if she’s living in a little love bubble that no one else can quite pop. The way her eyes light up when he says something, like she’s completely smitten and not even trying to hide it.

Something had changed between the two of them, something catastrophic. The vibe between them had shifted into something more tender. They had looked well, in love. Your heart swelled for the two. You remembered the conversation you had with Wonyoung in the meeting room, how she confessed to being in love with Jay. You had settled hope that she had finally told him. Breaking away from Jay, Wonyoung made her way to her cubicle.

“Um..” You mumbled, waiting for her to finally settle in. “Got something to tell me?” You asked cutting right to the chase.

“No?” Wonyoung had a teasing smile on her face, one that told you she was most definitely messing with you. Dangling that carrot over your head in a mocking way to get you riled up.

“Tell me” You whined like a toddler in no mood for silly games.

“Fine, fine.” Wonyoung said with a smile that you had never seen her wear before. It was bright and glittery and very much dopey. Like she was sickeningly in love. You didn't know whether you wanted to puke or jump for joy. Probably both. “After we had left the restaurant I was pretty drunk. You know that.” You nodded at her, waiting for her to continue.

“Well Jay brought me home, and like a drunk idiot I confessed but Jay knew I was drunk and didn't want to say much until I was sober. He slept over on my couch and when I woke up and saw him there I thought nothing of it, I thought maybe he was just as drunk as me and just crashed at my place instead of going home.” A big goofy grin spread across her lips once again.

Your heart had warmed at the sight. You were over the moon to see your friend happy. “But he told me what I had said to him the night before, truthfully I was mortified. That was not at all how I wanted to tell him, you know that.” You nodded, remembering how she wanted to wait to tell him. Worried that he was way too busy to take up with a girl he considered being his friend being in love with him. She had feared he didn't feel the same but anyone with eyes could tell he did.

“He told me he needed to hear me say it while sober, that he wouldn't believe it until I did. So I told him, I told him I loved him and that I've loved him for a while and just didn't want to inconvenience him by telling him.” Her words were dripped in honey as they fell from her lips and you felt nothing but happiness for your friend. Although you have only known Jay and Wonyoung for a short time you could truly see the care and the love the two of them shared, it was only a matter of time before their true feelings were revealed to one another.

“And..and he loved me too.” She looked down at her hands bashfully. “He said that he has loved me longer than I even loved him. He didn't think I could ever feel the same way so he never told me.”

“So a case of miscommunication?” You cracked, a smile now on your lips as well.

“Yeah i guess so”

You were just about to ask her for more details when you heard the sound of someone walking down the cubicle hallway. Looking up you’re met with Sunghoon, the same sharp expression on his face. Instantly gone was your smile and bubbly attitude. In its place a more foul feeling. And a bit of worry.

“Oh god” Wonyoung groaned, swerving around in her chair to face her computer. Sunghoon made a direct beeline for your cubicle, leaving a heavy sinking feeling in your gut. Of course he was coming to you. When was he not?

“I have a few pointers about what you're working on.” Sunghoon said as he stood beside your desk. No good morning, no hello. Just straight to the point.

“Of course you do.” You huffed.

“Do you think that's a color you should be using for the title?” Sunghoon ignored your comment, instead leaning out to point at what's on your computer screen.

“What color would you like me to use?” You quizzed to humor him.

“Probably something that pops like green-”

“Green?” Your disgusted expression not going unnoticed by Sunghoon. “She's wearing a pink jumpsuit. Why would I make the title green?”

“It's for contrast Y/n” Sunghoon remarked with the roll of his eyes.

“It's too bright-”

Sunghoon leaned forward more, placing his coffee mug down onto your desk with a slow, deliberate motion. "Exactly. That’s the point. People will look. They'll remember it. The world doesn’t need another pastel-colored magazine that blends in. We need bold choices if we want to stand out."

“These are young girls we are talking about. They are the epitome of a pastel-colored and girly girl, it also shows subtlety when you use more boring colors like white and beige. It shows class-”

"Class?" he interrupted with a raised brow. "You think class comes in beige? Or grey? People don’t care about your ‘subtlety’ when they’re flipping through a hundred other magazines that all look the same. We need to be striking. Unique."

“You’re not listening to what I'm saying Sunghoon, and you're also not giving me the creative freedoms I need to make this stand out while also not being a huge eyesore.” You exasperated, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“Whatever.” Sunghoon muttered. “Do whatever you want.” Storming off down the corridor without uttering another word.

You were shocked at his audacity to come in here and suggest your ideas to be weak, and not unique. It had felt like one big slap in the face. You didn't know how much more of it you could stand. You needed to hit this in the but and get this weird tension and argumentative behavior to go away. You needed it to stop if you were going to truly work to your highest capacity.

“Screw this” You muttered, getting up from your seat.

“Where are you going?” Wonyoung shouted after you, but you ignored her and continued your fast descent to Sunghoon’s office. A place you had not yet visited. You round the corner to be met with his semi secluded office. The what was supposed to be open windows to his office were covered in top to bottom curtains, shielding what was happening inside.

Sunghoon was definitely the kind of man that desired privacy, even as the boss in his own workplace. That was something you could find yourself relating with.

Knocking on the door to his office you gave him no more than a second before you were pushing the door open and walking inside.

Sunghoon looked up at you with an expression of shock and the utmost anger at your intrusion but frankly you didn't care. You were over this back and forth with him and you were there to settle it.

“Excuse me-” Sunghoon started.

“What’s your issue with me?” You asked, trying to keep your composure as you stood in the middle of his office. “Why are you being so hard on me? Treating me differently than everyone else?”

His brow furrowed slightly, and for a split second, you could almost see a flicker of something, was it surprise? Annoyance? Maybe a little of both? "You think I’m being hard on you?" His tone was quieter now, but still edged with something unyielding, like a glacier slowly shifting. "You’re not the only one who works hard, Y/N. You’re not the only one who’s been under pressure."

You shook your head, the frustration building. "That’s not it. It’s how you treat me. You’ve always been different with me. Jay and Wonyoung? They get praise, they get leeway, they get humanity, and I know they are your friends. But when it comes to me? You always find something wrong. You never—" You stopped yourself, cutting off the words before they became too much.

He was still staring at you, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes now—something deep, something you hadn’t expected. He stood up from his desk, his tall frame casting a shadow over you. His smell had wafted your sense, filling you wholly. He smelt familiar, like someone you once knew but had lost.

"You think you know me?" he asked, his voice low, dangerously calm. "You think you understand how hard it is, how much pressure I’m under? To keep this department running, to keep everything in line?"

Your heart raced as you stepped forward, emboldened by the truth spilling from your lips. "I never said it was easy for you. But why do I always feel like I’m the one you're trying to break? Why do I feel like I’m the one who’s always under your microscope? The one you never hesitate to shy away from with your scrutiny.”

“You're making things up in your head, allowing things to brew with your emotions-”

“Don't you dare tell me how to feel and think, Sunghoon. That’s not for you to decide.” Your voice was stern, a tone you should not be having with your boss. He moved closer to you, impossibly close. You felt a pull between the two of you, one you couldn't explain. A pull you weren't sure was fueled by hatred or something else. The red bracelet he wore on his wrist caught the light of the office, making your heart pound in your chest.

He didn’t even flinch. His gaze darkened, and for a moment, You thought he might actually shout at you, but instead, he did something that made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in close, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Then maybe you should stop pretending and just admit you want me to notice you.”

“Notice me?” You echoed, Your voice low and dangerous. “I’m not some damsel waiting for your approval, Sunghoon.” You couldn't believe the sheer audacity that he held. To think he had the right to insinuate you made a fuss for the end goal of catching his eye. How arrogant could he truly be? He was maddening, he was turning your mind to utter mush and still through it all he was so damn hot. It had your mind reeling and your pulse jumping. In the thick of it you couldn't help yourself. He stared at you for a long beat, his gaze softening just a fraction. His lips parted as if to say something, but before he could, you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards you. The kiss was hard, urgent. More of a collision than a moment of tenderness. His lips were warm and demanding, and you couldn’t help but respond in a hushed moan, your hands threading through his hair, tugging him closer. For a moment, everything else, the frustration, the resentment, the disdain, melted away.

Sunghoon’s hands were on your waist now, pulling you flush against him, his fingers grazing the small of your back. He kissed you with the same intensity he’d had in the argument, his mouth softening only when he pulled back for air.

“Fuck” You cursed, as his lips found your neck sucking dark circles into the exposed skin. Keeping your hands tightly wound in his hair and lift your hips slightly, creating the tiniest bit of friction that you could muster.

Pulling back Sughoon assessed his work on your collar bone before reattaching his lips to yours with fiver. The realisation of what the two of you were doing hit you like a freight train, but before you could pull back your mind was blank. Your vision, blurry then white as a hazy image illuminated your vision.

It was of two figures, one a man with a familiar build and captivating smile. Sunghoon. The other person is a woman, with hair much like yours. You could assume it was you. The two of you were holding hands as you walked along a beach. The sunset behind you is a warm shade of burnt orange, so beautiful and bright as it illuminates the two of you together. Tangled in one another. Your hands were bound together, swaying back and forth in tandem. Sunghoon was smiling at you with a smile you had never seen before. He leans down to kiss your cheek. The shock of it all sends you jolting and back into reality.

You pulled away from Sunghoon with a gasp. Your breathing heavy as your chest moves up and down trying to catch your breath.

“This is wrong.” You whimper. Your emotions beginning to get the best of you. “We..we shouldn't have done that.”

“No we shouldn't have.” Sunghoon’s voice was void of any real emotion, the tone had a shiver shooting up your spine. The reality of what just happened is daunting on you. You had just made out with your boss. The boss who hates you, and who you're sure you hate back.

“You should go.” Sunghoon averts his eyes every which way as he tries his hardest to not look at you. You were grateful for it for once. Fearing if he looked you in your eye it would trigger a river of emotion to fall from you, one that you wouldn't be able to stop.

You've had enough embarrassment for today. If Sunghoon truly thought you were attention hungry before you could only begin to wonder what he thought of you now. After having spewed your disdain to only pull him into a kiss as soon as he got too close. Your self restraint had flown straight out the window, taking your common sense with it.

You don’t kiss your boss. That was an unspoken rule among any workplace and you had just broken it. How were you supposed to act going forward? There was no way you could look Sunghoon in the eye and not be brought back to that very moment in his office. The moment you forgot about being a decent human being, a sensible one.

You let your emotions and the intensity of the moment speak for itself and look where it got you. You're deep into a hole you don't know how to dig yourself out of. Questioning every feeling you ever felt for Sunghoon.

Your mind was a jumbled mess. Comparable to a jigsaw puzzle you just couldn't solve. The resentment you felt for yourself was heavy as you made the awkward trek back to your cubicle. Ignoring Wonyoung’s awakening stare, you sat down in your seat before letting your head fall down with a thump against the wood of your desk.

You ignored the sharp pain and tried your hardest to hold back the prickling feeling of tears welling in your eyes. What could you possibly be crying about? So what? you kissed your boss, move on. That’s what you wish you could be telling yourself but instead the self loathing set it. You don’t want to tell Wonyoung in fear of running her picture perfect day with your mess of a life. One that you had created for yourself.

You raised your head from its place on the desk before turning to look at Wonyoung with a solemn smile. “What’s going on?” She asked with confusion.

“Nothing” You tried to be short so as to not give too much away. “I went to try and ask Sunghoon a question but he wasn’t in his office. I’ll ask him later.” Wonyoung’s eyes turned to slits. It was evident that she didn't believe a word you said, but by the very grace of god she decided to leave the subject alone. With just the nod of her head and tilted frown you knew you had upset her by not telling her the truth. A part of you wants to just blurt it, tell her what you have done. But you couldn't bear the backlash.

Surly Wonyoung would scold you, tell you just how stupid you were for kissing Sunghoon. Who is A.) Your boss but who B.) also just said that he wasn't the dating type. Who in their right mind would kiss their emotionally unavailable boss.

There wasn’t time to dwell much more on what you couldn't change, deciding to ignore it rather than face it. You only hoped and prayed that Sunghoon did the same.

The next few days at work had been tense. To say the least. You had been ignoring Sunghoon like the plague. Something that hasn't gone unnoticed by Wonyoung and Jay who were still very much in love and flaunting it. It had hurt your head to watch them be all lovey dovey day in and day out.

Jay was truly the picture perfect boyfriend and although you were very happy for your friends you couldn't help the deep seed of jealousy that reared its ugly head every time you witnessed it. Every single kiss on the cheek, hug or subtle caress had made you green with envy. You didn't enjoy feeling that way towards your friends but karma had a sick way of cutting deep when you wanted it least.

Wonyoung asked you multiple times what had happened between you and Sunghoon the day you went to his office but each time you maintained your story that he wasn't there. She didn't believe it any time you told her and it was obvious to you that she was sick and tired of that response.

Sunghoon must have been giving her a similar story because everytime she talked to him she was left with a somewhat sour expression as she obnoxiously stomped away from him like a child not getting her way. If you weren't so caught up in what happened recently you would have thought it to be cute. Today had been no different than the rest, you were ignoring Sunghoon, as much as you could ignore your boss. He hadn't come to your desk at all either. Something you were really thankful for. All of that still didn't stop him from leaving his obnoxious notes in your docs anytime you did something to the cover. It was infuriating, being reminded of him constantly.

When lying awake at night you couldn't help but think of the little…vision? You had mid kiss with Sunghoon. You didn't know what to call it, or what it even was. All you knew was that it had felt, real? Too real. It made your head hurt. It was so clear yet so hazy at the same time. None of it made sense. Then you thought about the kiss, the hot hot kiss. You thought about how Sunghoon’s hands felt when he gripped your hips pulling you closer to him. You thought about his lips trailing up and down the expanse of your neck.

Thankfully it was winter and you were able to get away with wearing turtlenecks to work as to hide the dark purple marks he left on your skin. At night you would run your fingers lightly against them and a deep dark part of you wished that you had done more in that moment. Just so you could have more to dream about, fantasize about.

You couldn't deny that you liked it. Very much. You also couldn't deny that Sunghoon had kissed you back, desperately. It had to mean that a part of him had to be attracted to you? Does it not?

Otherwise he surely would have pushed you away instead of pulling you in. He wasn't the one to stop the kiss at all actually, it was you who pulled away.

You who had stated that it was wrong, that you shouldn't have done it. How much further would you have gone if your head wasn't cleared by the reality of what you were doing and who you were doing it with.

You were hesitant to admit even to yourself that you would have gone much further, so much further. You hated yourself for the part of you that wished you had done so. He's your boss for crying out loud. How on earth were you to go back to normal after this. How were you ever going to get Sunghoon to treat you like a regular employee now. Would it ever be normal after this?

You were at the office like you usually would be, trying your hardest to ignore the most recent buzz over an annual christmas party being held at this fancy bar downtown. You were praying Wonyoung wouldn't have the inclination to invite you to it, truthfully it was the last thing you wanted to do. But before you knew it Wonyoung was beside your desk, a big goofy smile on her face that had represented your impending doom to a T.

"Guess what time it is, bestie?" Her voice was sing-song, cheerful, like she’d just won a prize. It had you cringing at the sound.

You didn’t look up, not ready for whatever was coming next. "Don’t even say it."

"I’m saying it," she chirped, drawing out the words like she had all the time in the world. "You're coming to the Christmas party, and that's final."

You Threw your head back with a groan of protest, "Wonyoung, I really don’t feel like going, Can we just—"

"Nope." She was already scooting her chair closer to you with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You’re coming to the party. I’ve already made the decision for you. You don’t get to make decisions right now."

“I’m serious, Wonyoung.” You leaned back in your chair, trying your best to sound firm. “I can’t go. Not with him there.” You had half a mind to make up some family emergency just to avoid what you knew was your ultimate fate but you were already feeling guilty enough for not telling her that you kissed sunghoon.

Wonyoung’s eyes widened for a split second, before narrowing suspiciously. "Who? Sunghoon?" She dropped her voice, clearly trying to be subtle but failing miserably. "Oh, come on. Stop being so dramatic. I thought this little feud between you two would be over by now. Seriously, the two of you need to kiss and makeup already.”

You visibly cringed at her choice of words, something that didn't go unnoticed by her. “It’s not that,” you muttered, your fingers fidgeting with a pen. "It’s… complicated.”

“What are you hiding?” She said, her eyes narrowed into slits. “Did he say something to offend you more? Cause i'll talk to him again, seriously i need this tension to go away because i'm starting to think of you as my best friend and i need all my friends to get along.”

“Well…” You shifted in your seat, trying to avoid her piercing gaze. “It’s not just work stuff, okay? And no he didn't say anything..”

Wonyoung leaned forward, studying you closely. She was sharp, and she wasn’t going to let this go. "Oh my god. What happened?" Her voice dropped lower, her curiosity piqued. "Did you… did you two kiss?"

You swallowed hard. “I… We…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence. How could you? It felt like everything had changed in an instant. "We kissed, okay?" Your voice came out almost in a whisper, the words heavy in the air.

Wonyoung’s face lit up, her eyes wide with shock, then gleaming with amusement. "Oh my god. You kissed Sunghoon?" She leaned back in her chair like she was trying to process the sudden shift in the universe. "Wait, when? How? Why didn’t you tell me?!"

“I didn’t tell you because it’s… awkward now, okay?” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to steady your breathing. “ Wonyoung. I don’t even know what’s going on between us. I’ve been ignoring him as much as possible. I’m trying to pretend like nothing happened but I can’t just pretend like we didn’t—" You cut yourself off, grimacing. The words felt too heavy in your mouth. "I’m just not ready to deal with it."

Wonyoung blinked at you, and then, as if realizing the full scope of the situation, she burst into laughter. You flashed her a deadpanned look. Her laughter grew harder and louder. “I knew it!” she said, her voice full of triumph. “I knew you two had something going on. All that tension between you? It was like a rom-com waiting to happen! And now you’re telling me you kissed? Oh my god. This is so juicy.”

You buried your face in your hands, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up your neck. “Wonyoung, this is not funny. It’s awkward, okay? And the last thing I want to do is face him at the Christmas party.”

Wonyoung was absolutely giddy now, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, come on. You can’t just avoid him forever. Trust me, you’ll feel so much better once you go and see him in person. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? You both just act like normal human beings and get on with your lives. It’s a Christmas party, not a battlefield."

You shot her another deadpan look. “Wonyoung, you don’t get it. Every time I see him, all I can think about is that kiss. And I really don’t want to be around him when everything is so weird.”

She rolled her eyes, dismissing your concerns like they were nothing. “Come on. It’s not as big a deal as you’re making it. Look, you’re not just going to hide away forever. You’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, I am going, so is Jay, and we need you there to make it a proper party.” You couldn’t help but let out a resigned sigh. You were cornered. Wonyoung would never let this go. If she was determined to drag you to that party, there was no way you were getting out of it.

"Fine," you muttered, slumping in your chair. "I’ll go. But I swear, if he so much as looks at me—"

“Then you kiss him again,” Wonyoung said, her grin widening. “And maybe I’ll start charging for all this drama. I’ll be your manager, and we’ll make a fortune off this mess."

“You're enjoying this way too much.” You muttered with a shake of your head.

“That’s what friends are for” She laughed, “Also, im telling jay about this.”

“No you're not.” You argued. “He can't know. He’ll tell Sunghoon and..and then I really could never show my face here again.”

“He will most certainly not be telling Sunghoon, I won't allow it. I promise.” She assured you with a small pat to your head. “Plus, he’ll probably want to see this all unfold on its own. It's like a comedy show to him.” She rolled her eyes at the thought of her boyfriend's antics. Her pure happiness had brought you joy. Even though a part of you was severely jealous of their relationship, none of that jealousy stemmed from hate, only from love. You wished you had someone who looked at you the way Jay looked at Wonyoung and vice versa but seeing your friend over the moon in love and happy with a good man had made your heart soar.

“When is this christmas party?” You asked, after the two of you had settled down a bit.

“Saturday night.” Wonyoung responded gleefully.

Looking down at your calendar you see that it was now thursday. Three awkward days from your kiss with Sunghoon. You knew you couldn't avoid him forever but you had at least hoped it would be longer than a work week.

You had only hoped that magically Sunghoon wouldn't show up. These things were mandatory he could definitely skip out. You held onto that hope throughout the rest of the day. Continuing to ignore Sunghoon.

At Lunch on friday you and Wonyoung sat in the lounge, you had been too anxious to eat so you just sat as Wonyoung and Jay yapped about what they would be wearing to the christmas party.

Your mind elsewhere not even thinking about what you were going to wear, only thinking about how you could get out of it. Suddenly the door to the lounge opened. Your heart sinking to your stomach as the familiar tap of Sunghoon’s expensive leather shoes were heard, walking this way. Your eyes widened frantically looking over at Wonyoung with a shocked expression.

“I didn't invite him.” She said, her eyes equally as wide as yours. SShe turned her head meeting Jay’s sheepish gaze.

“He might have told me about your kiss, and I forced him to come meet us here for lunch as a way to alleviate the tension.” Jay’s smile was watery as Wonyoung gave him the most brutal look she could possibly muster.

“Jay! You can't ambush a girl like that.” Wonyoung said with a hiss.

“Sorry..” Something about Jay’s sheepish expression gave you the impression that he wasn't sorry at all, instead rather gleeful that this was happening.

Finally Sunghoon approached your table. His eyes rapidly moved back and forth between the three of you. “Hello.” He said curtly, pulling out a chair then sitting down.

The tension was so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife. Your lungs felt about three sizes smaller. The act of expanding them is just a bit harder than before. You knew what was happening. You were having an anxiety attack and you could do nothing but sit in silence as the sickening feeling overwhelmed you.

You couldn't deal with this, not right now. You had prepared yourself for the christmas party but not for this. No, this felt like a surprise attack. You knew it wasn't but still the rapid beating of your heart and the sick feeling in the pit of your stomach just wouldn't go away. It was dizzying. “I-i um..” You stuttered rising from your seat at the table. “I forgot that i have some stuff i need to do i-have to go.” You forced the words out like razors caught in your throat.

“Are you okay?” Wonyoung’s look of concern did nothing to calm the raging storm brewing inside of you, you had to get out of this lounge and fast.

“Yes.” You nodded before turning and leaving the room as quickly as you could. You didn't care how ridiculous it might have looked running out of there.

Sitting down at your desk a heavy breath left your lips and already your heart slowed. No longer were you dizzy with worry. At times like this you wished you had your red bracelet to help ground you, and even more so you wish your grandmother was alive. You wanted nothing more than to call her and ask for her guidance or ask for her to give it to you straight, no sugar coating it.

She would do that for you, much like a mother would. Something you wish your own mother would do for you. You longed for a good relationship with your parents. A relationship where you could call them when you're down and ask for their advice or just their comfort.

They were not entirely horrible growing up. Sometimes your father had acted like a real dad, very rarely but it did happen. You have very few but fond memories of your father waking you up at half past midnight to go to the toy shop with him. He would get new shipments and would be away too excited to sleep. He needed your input on them. He needed you to tell them if they were fun, if they were worth being sold there.

You would play with the toys together really late into the night and it was the most tender you had ever seen your father act. You realize now that a lot of that was because of the shop but you didn't care, it was still a happy memory you shared with him.

Thinking of your messy childhood has somehow helped you calm down. Your breathing was back to normal and your stomach did feel like it was turning every few seconds. You weren't angry at Jay for ambushing you with Sunghoon because you knew truthfully that wasn't his intention. You were more so embarrassed with the way you reacted to him. You must have looked so stupid, so weak. He was right to think of you that way to begin with.

The sound of Wonyoung’s heavy footsteps had also brought you more comfort than you were willing to admit. Somewhat happy that she had come to check on you.

“Are you alright?” Wonyoung’s voice was not a decibel above a whisper as she approached you.

“I’m okay.” You sent her a small reassuring smile. “Let's not make a big deal out of it please.”

“I’m going to kill Jay i swear-” Your laugh cut her off.

“It’s ok i promise.”

“Are you sure because I'll kill him if you ask me to.”

“I’m sure” You said with more laughter. “Please don't kill your boyfriend.”

“Okay..” She trailed off, flashing you a smile. “You sure you're okay?”

“I’m sure.” You reassured her with a nod of your head. You didn’t know how you would fare at this christmas party but at least you’d be ready for it. As ready as you can be anyway.

On the night of the party you made sure to wear something…extra sexy. You wanted to feel good. Plus you were going to a bar. It was time for you to unwind after the last few weeks you've had and how stressful it's been working at a new job with an asshole boss and a huge project thrown your way.

The party’s being held in a bar downtown, cozy and decorated with festive lights and wreaths. It’s supposed to be fun, but the moment you step inside, the last person you want to see is standing by the bar: Sunghoon. He was truly the last person you wanted to see as soon as you stepped into the door. Perched in the two seats next to sunghoon were Wonyoung and Jay, of course.

Ever since that night in his office, the lines between you two have blurred. What started as a sharp, tense argument had escalated into something you never expected—a kiss. Not a casual peck, but a searing, desperate thing that left you breathless and confused. Then the silence. The awkwardness, and the fact that you ran out of the lounge upon seeing him yesterday. Now, here he is, looking effortlessly perfect in a tailored black suit, his hair styled just the right amount of messy. His eyes catch yours the second you step in, and you feel that familiar flutter of dread (and something else you can’t quite name). Your pulse quickens, your palms grow clammy. You think of turning around and leaving before he sees you, but it's too late. Wonyoung is calling for you, waving her hand around like a mad man. It was obvious she already had a few drinks in her.

“Y/n!” Wonyoung giggles as soon as you walk up to them “You're finally here!” You send her a smile, hugging her awkwardly.

“I’m here” You forced the words out.

“Hello.” The words were tense, not sliding off the tongue easily at all. Your stature was rigid; anyone with eyes could tell you were clearly uncomfortable.

“Hi Y/n” Sunghoon says casually, catching you completely off guard but before you could find the words to respond he's already turning to Jay starting up a conversation. And for the millionth time you notice the bracelet on his wrist. That goddamn bracelet. Looking away from it you focused your attention back to the conversation.

“We only have two months left and we can't seem to figure out what pictures to use.” Jay was saying, they were obviously talking about the project. “If we don’t get it right they'll be pissed. You know how they were last time.”

“I was hoping they would cut us some slack with a new hire” Sunghoon’s tone was hushed almost like he didn't want you to hear, but you did and it had pissed you off.

“What?” You hissed out. “You guys hired me as a scapegoat?”

Sunghoon groaned only furthering the simmering anger inside of you. Jay’s eyes widened as Wonyoung went pale beside you, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Sunghoon. His expression remained calm, detached, like he was making a simple business statement.

“Let’s face it,” Sunghoon continued, unbothered by the sudden shift in atmosphere. “That new project? They’re bound to hate it. And when they do, I’ll need someone to take the heat. You’re perfect for it—you're new, trainable. This is your first time in this field”

The words hit you like a slap, cold and hard. You blinked, momentarily lost for words, the room around you suddenly feeling too tight, the festive decorations too bright, too garish. “I’m perfect for it?” You echoed in disbelief. “So you plan on throwing me under the bus, and you think I’m okay with that?”

“I’m not trying to throw you under the bus Y/n, but these girls, they're brutal ok?” He set his drink down on the bar table. “They hate everything, and if i say you were the one who took the reins the consequences won't be as dire. They’ll use the excuse that it's a teaching moment.”

“Are you seriously telling me you only hired me because I’m some convenient liability?” You said, your voice rising. “Is that all I am to you, Sunghoon? A fall guy?” Jay winced, looking like he wanted to disappear, while Wonyoung stepped back, clearly unsure how to navigate the conversation. But you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Don’t think for a second that I’m just going to let you use me like that,” you spat. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You’re trying to play a game with me, but you’ve got it all wrong.” Tears welled up in your eyes, the frustration you felt was immense.

Wonyoung glanced at Jay, both of them taking a step back. It was clear that this wasn’t just a disagreement—it was something much deeper, much more personal now. The air between you and Sunghoon had shifted from something casual to something sharp, dangerous even. You haad thought for a moment, just a moment that Sunghoon would treat you like an actual human being for once, but oh how fucking wrong you were.

“There’s no game Y/n.” He spoke as if this conversation was an inconvenience, like your feelings meant nothing. “I hired you because I knew you had potential, but you came at a difficult time and we used that as an advantage.”

“I’m not going to allow you to tarnish my name” You spat. Fresh tears falling down your face.

For a moment, there was a silence between you two—tense, thick, and heavy. Wonyoung and Jay exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to stay or leave. The energy in the room seemed to freeze.

Sunghoon looked visibly annoyed with even a small semblance of anger taking over his features. “It’s not like it wouldn't be your fault if they hate it. You can't even pick a proper title color.”

His sharp words struck you like a knife. Stabbing into your chest with keen precision.

“Fuck you Sunghoon.” You spat out. Words you were surely to regret in the future. Words you would never ordinarily say to your boss. Turning on your heel you rushed to the nearest bathroom. It was one of those family bathrooms that didn't have gender assignment, you were grateful that no one would be bothering you, going in and out of stalls.

Slamming the bathroom door behind you, you allowed the tears to fall freely down your cheeks in what seemed like a waterfall of emotion. You were angry, so severely angry. How dare he insinuate that he was going to use you as a scapegoat. Was your work that subpar that he felt you were the easiest person to use. It had felt like a sick game, one you didn't sign up to play.

A knock on the door sounded throughout the bathroom. “Go away Wonyoung” You sniffled not even in the mood for your fun loving, ever so perky tipsy friend. The door opened anyway, and in the reflection of the mirror you spot Sunghoon.

“Get out.” You grit your teeth.

“Just-just let me talk for one second before you get defensive.” He closed the door behind him with a click.

“Defensive?” You said in shock. “You just told me im being used-”

“That's not- ok.” He took a simmering breath obviously trying to compose himself.

“Yes, ok. I hired you so that we can use you being a new hire as back up for when we inevitably get torn to shreds by Suyu and her members but..it wasn't you specifically ok?”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Sunghoon? What kind of excuse is that?”

“Its not an excuse Y/n.” Sunghoon ran his hands through his hair, an action that you shamefully maade your knees wobbly at the sight. Why did this man have to be so daamn beautiful while also being so damn irritating? “It's an explanation. The only excuse would be that you're new. Not that you're not good enough. I know you're good, otherwise I wouldn't have picked you over all those applicants. At the same time I also knew that nothing would satisfy Suyu, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone.”

You looked down at your wrist feeling the barness more than anything. “I’m not some villain Y/n i’m not trying to make you feel useless-”

“Then why do you?” You look up at him, your lashes wet from your tears.

Sunghoon’s response is short, concise but it makes your heart beat a mile a minute. His voice was unexpectedly quiet. “I didn’t mean to make you feel small. I’m sorry.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You’re… apologizing?”

Sunghoon nodded dumbly, running his hands through his hair once again. You couldn't help the heat traveling to your cheeks, blaming it on the one single drink you had before coming. Sunghoon unconsciously stepped forward, his cologne invading your senses until it drove you mad. His frame was tall, looming over you like a giant. “I am” He confirmed with his words now.

Before you could process what was happening, Sunghoon closed the space between you. His movements were slow, deliberate, and the air in the bathroom seemed to thicken with every passing second. Your heart raced as he stopped just inches away from you, his gaze intense, searching your face.

“I—” he started, but the words died in his throat. Instead, his hand reached up, fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. His touch was surprisingly gentle, the warmth of his skin sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“What are you doing?” You whispered out, hoping that whatever it was, it wouldn't stop.

“I don't know” He said back, just as breathily. “Do you want me to stop?”

Your head shook with vigor. Silently begging him to stay just where he was.

Then, without warning, he leaned down and kissed you.

It was unexpected, and yet, it felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to implode since the last time you had kissed. His lips were warm and insistent, but not in the way you expected from someone like him. There was no arrogance in the kiss, no dominance—just raw, unfiltered emotion, something both of you had kept buried beneath layers of pride and tension.

You stood frozen for a second, your breath catching in your throat. Then, instinct took over. You kissed him back. Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer. His other hand slid around your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss. The world around you seemed to disappear. There was only the heat of his body, the press of his lips, and the racing pulse that had nothing to do with the party outside or the complicated mess that was your relationship with him. Everything felt raw and completely in the moment.

Sunghoon pushed you against the sink, the contrast of the cool porcelain was a godsend against the heat of your skin. With a gasp Sunghoon’s tongue was down your throat exploring the expanse of your mouth with his tongue.

His hands pushed at you, lifting you up and onto the sink with ease you could only deem as incredibly sexy.

“Fuck.” He breathed disconnecting his lips from yours, trailing them down your neck much like he did the day you two had kissed in his office. “Tell me to stop.”

“No.” You gasped out “Dont..dont stop.” Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your hips raising yearning for some kind of friction.

Sunghoon’s hand hungrily grabbed at your sides before sliding up to cup at your clothes breasts. His breath was warm against your skin, fanning over it in quick exhales.

“Can i?” He asked, a sense of urgency in his tone as he toyed with the hem of your tights under the dress you wore. Nodding dumbly you watched as Sunghoon made quick work of pulling your tights down in one fell swoop. Your legs were bare as they hung over the side of the sink. Next to go were your panties leaving you completely out in the open for Sunghoon’s hungry eyes. He drank in the sight of you, his lips rising with a small smirk. “Can I touch you?” He asked.

“Yes” You whimpered out. Once again raising your hips in a show of desperation. “Please” Sunghoon’s fingers ghosted your entrance, feather-like touches leaving you wanting and desperate.

“Please..” You said pathetically, voice barely above a whisper.

“Ok pretty..”Sunghoon cooed, running thumb over your clip, moving it in circular motions driving you absolutely mad.

“You're so wet.” Sunghoon’s voice was ragged and hoarse almost as if he smoked a full carton of cigarettes.

“Mhm” You moaned “Only for you.” You tried to settle your moans not wanting anyone outside the door to hear you, but the way his fingers were working you up and down had made that task nearly impossible.

“I need to taste you.” Before you could say anything else Sunghoon dipped his head down, his hungry mouth lapping up the juices dripping from your wet cunt.

“Oh fuck.” You hissed out arching your back off the sink in pleasure. Your hands were in Sunhoon’s hair pulling and yanking for any form of leverage. “Fuck, fuck.”

Sunghoon’s tongue made circles on your slit, your vision blurry with tears. The overstimulation of the moment is almost too much to bear.

“Oh my god.” You whispered looking down to watch as Sunghoon hungrily ate you out. His actions were comparable to a starving man. It was hot, almost too hot for you to handle.

“Keep…” You breathed “Keep going.. I’m almost there.”

“Yeah?” Sunghoon teased, lifting his mouth for just a split second.

“Mhm” You nodded “Holy-” Your body jolted. You would have fallen right off the sink if it weren't for Sunghoon’s hand holding you in place. Your legs shook with intensity. Sunghoon sucked on your clit, the slurping sound a catalyst to your already awaiting orgasm.

“Oh.” You squeaked “I’m cumming” Your end hit you like a train, blinding your vision with a sheen of white. Your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, it must have been the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced. Steadying your breathing, Sunghoon pulled back. A shit eating grin on his face as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

“Holy shit” You breathed out. Holding the edge of the sink firmly in your hands. You rose your legs trembling from the mind numbing orgasm you had just had. “I’ve never come that hard in my life.”

“That was just my tongue.” Sunghoon’s face had a smug smirk on it, one that said he was proud of the service he just provided.

“We should talk-”

“Please, for tonight let's just not.” His voice held desperation. You couldn't ignore how bad it seemed he didn't want to talk about the reality of what just happened. Quite frankly, neither did you. You'd rather be living in this happy little bubble you put yourself into.

“Come back to my place?” His question caught you off guard. The look of shock not going unnoticed by Sunghoon as he smiled warmly. “If you want to, of course.” He assured you. You didn't have to think it through for very long before you found yourself nodding, agreeing that you would go back with him to his apartment where you were certain you'd be doing much more than what you did in here. But for right now you didnt care. You didn't want to think about what the repercussions of what you were doing and what you were about to do would be.

Just for tonight you wanted to be blissfully unaware of the real world and what would happen on monday once you saw Sunghoon again. Tonight you were just a girl and Sunghoon was just a guy. Two people who wanted to have fun after a night out at the bar. A girl could pretend and that's exactly what you would be doing.

“How are we going to get out of here without Jay and Wonyoung noticing?” You questioned. The last thing you wanted was questions from Wonyoung asking what you were just doing and also what you were about to do. You wanted to just do it.

“Jay texted me that he took Wonyoung home. Turns out after we stormed off she down half a bottle of vodka because of the stress. She’s wasted right now.”

You made a mental note to call Wonyoung in the morning. You worried that tonight had been too much for her. You didn't want her to think any of this was her or Jay’s fault, you didn't blame them one bit for what happened tonight, even if it was Wonyoung who forced you to come in the first place. And they for certain had to know of Sunghoon’s plan to hire someone who could be their scapegoat for the project. But that was a discussion for another day, right now all you were worried about was getting to the car unnoticed.

“Thank god.” You sighed out. “Hopefully everyone else is too drunk to care why we're leaving together.”

“Oh none of them really care.” Sunghoon laughed. “They're all like npc's, they just move around the office emotionless.”

Laughing, you put your tights and panties back on before following Sunghoon out the door of the bathroom and back into the dimly lit bar. The Christmas music blaring over the loudspeakers and people laughed and joked with one another. Sunghoon latched onto your hand, dragging you outside of the bar and away from everyone.

“My car is just down here.” He continued to pull you as you followed after him like a little duckling following their mother.

Once you got to his car you admired the sleek black range rover for only a second before you pushed yourself in. Suddenly a giddy feeling overwhelmed your senses. You were excited to go back with Sunghoon. You weren't stupid you knew what was about to happen. Sunghoon hopped into the driver's side of the car, taking off with ease.

“I don't live far from here.” He spoke quietly now, quieter than he was in the bar. You rolled the window down to get some air in, feeling suddenly hot.

The night was crisp, and the hum of the car engine seemed to carry the weight of everything that had happened. Sunghoon was driving, his fingers tense on the wheel, the road ahead illuminated by the glow of streetlights that flickered past in a steady rhythm. The air between you felt heavy, thick with the tension of what had just unfolded.It seemed that both of your minds began to wander, thinking about what it was exactly the two of you were doing.

“Are you ok with what's about to happen?” Sunghoon suddenly asked. It was a dangerous question. And you knew that the right answer was supposed to be "no," that professional boundaries were sacred, that nothing should have happened between you two. But in this moment, everything felt irrelevant. The company, the rules, the reason for you being hired. None of it seemed to matter in the wake of that moment spent in the bar bathroom.

“Yes” I whispered hoarsely “I shouldn't be but I am..” You took a deep agonizing breath “I really am.”

“Are you ok with what's about to happen?” You now asked him.

“Yes.” His answer was short and straight to the put but his single word held so much power. It was all the confirmation you needed to know that tonight was a night to forget about the semantics of it all. How long has it been since you've been touched? Since you've had sex? So long you couldn't even begin to remember.

You missed being vulnerable with someone enough to allow them to see all of you.

Finally when Sunghoon stopped his far in front of a large apartment building you could only assume was his you had the feeling of nervousness in your belly.

You had felt like this since walking into the bar earlier. It was a different kind of nervous though, this was an excited nervous, and when you reached his apartment and walked inside you could only describe the feeling you felt as an overwhelming sense of excitedness.

Sunghoon took your jacket off slowly, pushing it down your body, careful to brush his fingers ever so slightly against your skin.

“Do you want wine?” He asked you. You hummed a yes at him. You looked around his apartment admiring the beautiful art that had adorn the walls.

He had an expensive taste you would give him. His apartment was something out of a catalog so perfectly…Sunghoon. The furniture was sleek black leather polished to perfection. The rug had a cool dark grey tone, it looked warm and fuzzy. You fantasized Sunghoon having his way with you on top of it. The thought had your cheeks warming with blush.

“Here you go.” Sunghoon whispered from behind you. He handed you a wine glass filled ¾ the way with red wine.

‘Thank you.” You took the glass in your hands, taking a sip moaning at the sweet taste of it. Sunghoon watched you with a look of fascination, a hint of deep and desirable lust mixed in.

“I didn't know watching someone drink wine could be so…sexy.” Sunghoon licked his lips, the action causing a shiver to run down your spine straight to your core, just where you needed him most.

“Really?” You purred, bringing the wine glass close to your lips before taking a small sip. You made sure to look at Sunghoon through your lashes looking up at him with a pouty smile. Something that had certainly sent his mind haywire.

“Can i fuck you?” He asked outright. Surprised by his candor you said nothing for a second, blinking at him as he awaited your answer. You nodded dumbly feeling the wetness in your panties already.

“Use your words sweetheart.” Sunghoon took the wine glass from your hand, setting it down onto the island beside you.

“Yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you muttered the words. “Please”

Sunghoon circled you and his gaze darkened. His big hands made careful work of slowly moving your hair to the side to expose your neck. Sensually he brought his lips down kissing up with feather-like touchess, hips lips just barely touching the skin. It had you aflame, your body felt akin to his like this was something right, like the two of you were meant to be this close, to be touching one another.

He reached your jaw in no time, then your check. He titled your head towards his, finally connecting your lips as he held onto your chin. The kiss was deep and you savored every second his mouth was attached to yours. Suddenly without warning Sunghoon’s hand left your chin and traveled down the expanse of your body all the way to your thighs where he used both hands to lift you. A yelp let your lips in surprise, then a giggle.

“I’ve been thinking about this moment for weeks.” Sunghoon’s voice was deep, almost raspy. It had your core throbbing at the sound, your heart picking up speed in tandem. “I’ve been waiting for the day i could have you sprawled across my bed completely naked, ready and wanting, just for me.” His words had your mind reeling as he tossed you down onto his bed. His plush duvet and mattress softened the blow.

You looked up at Sunghoon with wide eyes and puffy lips as pure arousal coursed through you, he ended up doing something, anything, and now. Your desperation for him was palpable. Your body is electrified with need for him.

“Really?” You couldn't help but ask. Truthfully you found it hard to believe that Sunghoon had been thinking about you this way for almost the entirety of knowing you, but you'll let it slide.

“Mhm” He hummed as he pulled your tights down your legs for the second time that night. His body rose skillfully, taking off his jacket, then his dress shirt until his upper half was completely bare to your wandering eyes.

“You're beautiful” You marveled, resting your hands on his shoulders as he came back down. His lips connected back to yours in a hungry kiss, his hands pushing your dress up just enough that your panty covered heat was exposed. Sunghoon’s fingers circling your covered core apply light pressure but not enough to satisfy the need brewing inside of you.

“I need you.” You whimpered out raising your hips in a show of desperation. Sunghoon chuckled, a smirk on his lips.

“How bad do you need me?” He was teasing you, playing with you and it hurt so good.

“So bad.” You whined as you ran your hands down his shoulders to his torso then over his groin where his very prominent hard on presented itself even in the confines of his jeans.

You began your own teasing, rubbing your hands over him causing a hiss to leave his lips in pleasure.

“Don't tease me.” Sunghoon grit the words out as his breathing became more ragged with every movement of your hand.

“Your first.” You shot back at him.

Sunghoon’s hands were quick as he yanked your paanties down in one fail swoop. Then running up to the hem of your dress pulling it over your head and off your body just as quickly.

You weren't wearing a bra, it wasn't needed for the type of dress you were wearing. You were now completely naked and ready for Sunghoon.

Sunghoon lifted himself away from you to take off his pants and boxer shorts, the loss of warmth from his body leaving you shivering.

You were really about to do this. You were about to have sex with your boss. The thought made you nervous all over again, but also excited? It’s been so long since you've been touched and to be touched by such a beautiful man like Sunghoon? You were heaven and there was truly no way this was real life.

Your thoughts were pulled from you as soon as Sunghoon’s lips met the skin of your stomach trailing up until he reached your breast. Cupping the left with his big hand he attacked his mouth to the right, sucking on your nipple.

“Oh.” You squealed, running your hands through his hair and down his neck. “Please.”

“Please what baby?” The pet name left you a puddle of yourself coupled with the pure arousal coursing through your veins at the simplest of touches he left on your heated skin.

“Please fuck me.” You were done waiting for him. You needed him, now. The throb of your clit was overwhelming as it called for some kind of relief.

“Since you asked so nicely..” Sunghoon readied himself at your entrance, tapping the tip against your slit a few times before finally sinking in. Slowly at first allowing you to get used to the stretch of him inside of you.

“Is that ok?” He asked you slowly, pushing his hips back and forth. You nodded, struggling to find the words to say.

“Fuck.” Sunghoon moaned “You’re fucking tight.” His hips gradually moved faster now smacking against yours lewdly.

“That’s it.” You chanted “Faster please.” You pleaded with him, begging him to satisfy the craving deep inside of you.

“You're greedy..” He tsked at you as he slowed his hips. He was teasing you again, torturing you and your need for him. Your legs trembled as you whimpered and moaned for him to move faster, harder, anything.

“Greedy.little.thing” He punctuated each word with a slam of his hips against yours. His balls slapping against the base of your ass. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad.” Your hips lifted from the bed but Sunghoon made quick work of pushing them down, his grip harsh and firm, surely leaving the skin bruised but you didn't care, not one bit. “I want it so bad.”

With a gasp, Sunghoon pulled out suddenly leaving you with an empty feeling. “Sunghoon-”

“Turn over.” His hands grabbed at your hips roughly turning you on your stomach. “Ass up Y/n”

Arching your back Sunghoon took your hips, lining himself up with your entrance once again before slamming himself inside of you with a rough smack of hips against yours. He began a brutal pace.

Moans leaving your lips like a mantra as he overwhelmed your senses, captivated your body with his as he took you sharply from behind with no mercy. The sharp sound of skin against skin coupled with your moans and his groans of pleasure were the only sounds to be heard. You lost yourself in one another as you allowed Sunghoon to take your body any way he wanted. He used your hole as his own personal fleshlight fucking you with a sense of urgency you had never seen him have before. It was maddening, and it was so so fucking hot.

Your body gave way to him as your orgasm approached you with fast speed, an impending doom that you very much welcomed. But suddenly like the time before in his office your vision blurred, turning white and hazy behind your closed eyelids.

Another unexplainable vision passed before your vision, one that just like the other had felt very real, very familiar. You were in a house, a warm and cozy house. The sides of your vision blurry; you're only focusing on the couple that currently occupied the bed. A man, Sunghoon, hovered above a woman who looked identical to you. They were having sex. It was slow, deliberate, it was…Romantic. The kind of sex you would have when you were in love. The fact was proven to you when you distantly heard the sound of your own voice whisper “I love you Sunghoon..”

Then nothing. Your vision cleared and you were back to where you were before. On Sunghoon’s bed in his apartment, face down ass up as he pounded into your core from behind. The vision blinded you, surprised you. It had triggered the explosion awaiting inside of you as it hurtled you towards your end.

“I’m cumming!” You squeaked “Holy fuck i’m cumming.” Sunghoon’s pace didn't let up. Actually, it became more brutal, more intense.

Sunghoon gasped, whacking his hips against yours a few more times before stilling, spilling his load deep inside of you with one last heavy sigh. Your mind was blank as you tried to catch your breath. You didn't even register Sunghoon slipping out of you to grab a towel, and him cleaning you up.

After a while of sitting in silence the lines that you blurred had started to take residence in your mind. What did this mean? How would you move forward? You were not entirely sure what it is you felt for Sunghoon. You knew that he pissed you off. You knew that what happened at the bar had hurt you more than you'd like to admit, and you also knew that you felt a pull to sunghoon unlike anyone else. It also didn't explain the random flashbacks that you got every time something intimate happened between the two of you.

Flashbacks that had felt way too real. It was unexplainable, it was jarring. You've heard about things like this happening in fiction. In things like books and movies and even the old stories your grandmother would tell when she went on and on about the red string of fate, but certainly something like that was not real. This is reality. So what was happening to you?

The silence in the room was deafening.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” Sunghoon finally broke the silence. With words you weren't really ready to hear. You should have known this would happen. He’s been more than clear before when you talked in a group about him getting into a relationship but still the words stung as they hung in the air around you, the silence back.

“I-i think I should go.” You rose from your place on the bed, searching the dark floor for your things.

“Y/n i-” You cut him off before he could get the words out.

“It’s fine.” You pushed out. “You don't have to say anything.”

“I think i should though, i need to explain-” Again, you cut him off.

“You don't owe me anything, Sunghoon.” Your voice whispers. “We’re adults ok.”

“At Least let me bring you home.” But you were already shaking your head, denying him.

You messily put your clothes back on with only the dim lights cascading over you.

“I’ll get an uber, really Sunghoon. It’s fine.” With that you were out the door. A fresh new set of tears falling from your eyes and onto your cheeks. You didn't even know why you were crying really. It seemed ridiculous but you were very dumb. Dumb to think even for a second there was more to this than sex. To consider him as someone who would..care for you in that way. Stupid, stupid, stupid you were.

Did you even want that? A relationship with Sunghoon? You didn't know. But you knew that you would be open to trying. Sunghoon was a man you could see yourself falling for if given the chance, but you wouldn't be. And maybe that's for the better.

It was late by the time you got home. Allowing yourself a bowl of ice cream before bed. You sent Wonyoung a text letting her know you got home and for her to text you when she woke up. There was no way you’d be telling Wonyoung what had happened tonight with Sughoon, not a chance.

Over Sunday you laid in bed most of the day, your mind only on Sunghoon and what you had felt. The sex..well, the sex was phenomenal. You wouldn't deny that. You didn't want Sunghoon thinking he left you wounded though. The strong independent women in you wanted you to walk into the office with your head held high like nothing in this world bothered you. Like you knew you were hot shit and nobody could take that away from you. But unfortunately that way of thinking was unrealistic for you. You were not the confident, take charge type of woman you aspired to be. But you could be, and that would start with Sunghoon.

You had the brilliant and not at all damaging idea to march into his office and propose something he could not turn down. An agreement of sorts.

And on Monday you do just that as you march into the office building with faux confidence. Be-lining straight for his office you knock on the door. Opening it without another word. Seeing Sunghoon sat there at his desk, mid typing. He looks up at you with a flash of shock across his face.

You close the door, twisting the lock behind you.

The air between you feels electric, thick with all the things you’ve both avoided saying. It’s a strange feeling, being here, in front of him after what the two of you did Saturday night.

“I’m not here to complicate things,” you finally say, voice a little rougher than you’d like. You glance at him, wondering if he thinks you look utterly ridiculous. “Friends with benefits. No strings. That’s the deal.”

The look of pure shock on his face doesn't go unnoticed, his mouth opening then closing trying to find the words to say to your…proposition.

“What?” he asks finally, standing from his desk to move closer to you.

“You said you don't do relationships. What happened Saturday was..amazing Sunghoon. So I'm asking you. Friends with benefits?” You could feel your confident resolve fading, the embarrassment settling in at the look on Sunghoon’s face.

“You really want to do this?” he asks, voice steady, though there’s a look in his eyes you can’t quite place, one of uncertainty. You’ve never been good at keeping things casual. A rivalry, a competition, a good round of banter—you know the rules of that game. But this... this feels like a completely new kind of contest. And something tells you that neither of you is walking away without losing something. But there’s a part of you that can’t help but lean in closer, feel the pull of whatever this is between you. You’ve danced around it for too long.

"Okay," He trailed off. "If we’re doing this, we need to be clear. No... misunderstandings. I know this isn't your thing, I know you're nervous. Even if you're trying to hide it."

You’ve always been good at setting boundaries, at keeping things professional. But this? This is different. This isn’t just a professional arrangement. This is... personal, you've crossed a line. You crossed it when the two of you kissed, and even more so when you had sex. What’s one more?

"Look, I’m not nervous," you say, your voice a little too defensive. "But if we’re doing this... if we’re going to be friends with benefits, we need to have some ground rules. Clear ones. No exceptions."

He leans forward slightly, his eyes fixed on yours with that intensity that always makes you second-guess yourself. “Alright. I’m listening.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. This is what you’ve wanted, right? This is how you wanted to proceed. This is what you convinced yourself you could handle, you've never been that type of girl before but now, you were going to try. Even if you could end up burned, your heart shattered. Was this decision all that wise? You didn't know. you feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like everything you’ve worked to protect is teetering on the edge of collapse.

“I’m not looking for anything complicated,” you start, focusing on the words to keep yourself grounded. “This is just... physical. Nothing more. No emotional baggage. No trying to change anything.” You hold his gaze, even though your palms are starting to sweat. "We’re just doing this to scratch an itch. And then we walk away, no strings attached." You're lying. Oh god, you're lying. This is a recipe for disaster.

Sunghoon nods slowly, as if considering the terms. “Fair enough. No emotional attachment, no complications.” He smirks again, and it makes your stomach do an anxious flip. “But you’re not worried about catching feelings, are you?” His playful nature sent your stomach turning, how could he be so calm? So collected.

You scoff, though there’s a nervous edge to it. "Please. You think I’m going to fall for you?" You try your hardest to seem composed, it was working. The words sound harsher than you mean them to, but the reality is that you do worry. A part of you fears that this could slip into something more, something deeper, despite your best efforts. And the last thing you want is to make this even messier than it already is.

“Just making sure we’re on the same page,” he says, leaning back in his chair again, his expression unreadable. “But I’ll play by the rules. No emotions. No attachments. And no... complicated goodbyes.”

You nod, but the knot in your stomach tightens. You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you agreed to this, but now that you’re spelling everything out, it feels far more real than you’re ready for. “One more thing,” you add, your voice quieter now. “We keep this private. No one at the office knows. No one. Not even Wonyoung and Jay.”

Sunghoon tilts his head, considering you with that sharp, calculating look that makes you feel like you’re being sized up. “Of course. You think I’m going to go around broadcasting this? We’ll never hear the end of it.”

The way he says it so confidently, so assured only makes your anxiety spike. You can’t help but wonder if he’s done this before. How many others has he had these “arrangements” with? You push the thought aside, unwilling to give into your own insecurities.

"Good," you say, the words coming out a little more firmly than you feel. "And lastly... no mixing business with pleasure. Work stays work." You emphasize the last word, hoping he’ll hear the seriousness in your voice.

You see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, like he knows exactly what you’re getting at. “Of course. But if the workday does end early one day, I’m sure we can both find ways to... entertain ourselves.”

“Were not fucking at work Sunghoon.” You feel your face flush, and you hate it. You’ve spent so much time keeping it together, maintaining control. But now, with him in front of you, with this new arrangement, you’re on the edge of something that makes you feel both exhilarated and terrified.

Sunghoon’s eyes soften just a little, and you swear you see something resembling sincerity flicker across his face. “I promise. No pressure. We keep it casual. I’m not here to complicate things... unless you want to.” He gives you a knowing look, the one that always makes your heart race, like he can read you better than you’d like to admit.

“I don’t want to,” you reply quickly, almost too quickly. Your voice comes out more defensively than you mean it to, and you hate how transparent you feel in this moment, but you have a feeling you’d be doing a lot more than just work when you come in everyday. His hold on you terrified you just a little bit. It feels like you’ve just signed some invisible contract. The rules are clear—at least, as clear as they can be. But you know yourself better than this. You know that this isn't something you would typically do, And now you’re about to step into uncharted territory, where the stakes are higher than you ever imagined.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” Sunghoon asks, his tone soft now, almost too casual for how serious the situation feels.

“I’m sure,” you say, your voice steadier than you feel.

He stares at you for a moment, the quiet hanging between you. It feels like he’s measuring you, weighing your words, before he finally nods. “It’s a deal, then.”

You nod, your breath finally evening out. You’ve set the rules, and so far, they sound simple enough. “Deal.” though you’ve set the boundaries, though you’ve promised yourself this won’t get complicated, deep down, you know it already is.

It had been a few days since the two of you made your agreement, and to say it's been a bit awkward would be an..understatement. It seemed the two of you didn't quite know how to break the ice. In the bathroom of that bar was easy, you had been heated, in an argument your emotions were running high. You both ran on pure adrenaline to get you going.

Sunghoon still acted himself when it came to the project, but not as bad which you were grateful for. He let up a little, let you take the reins.

Wonyoung noticed the shift in your attitude towards each other. She had asked you what seemed like a million times about what happened in the bathroom that night but all you would say is that Sunghoon apologized, that you had come to an understanding.

She didn't buy it, of course but she decided to leave it alone for now, holding onto the fact that you would eventually spill like you did with the kiss. Little did she know that this was much more than that.

There was no way in hell you'd be telling her that you and Sunghoon slept together and there was no way you'd be telling her that you agreed to continue. No.strings.attached. God, what were you thinking? And why did the thought of sneaking around excite you so much. You didnt realize you were your own fucking maschoist but here you were.

Walking into the office today felt a little heavier than usual. The air is tense and stiff. Minji greeted you with a tight lipped smile void of all its usual sunshine and warmth.

“What's going on?” You asked Wonyoung as soon as you sat down at your desk for the day.

“The big boss is in.” She whispered to you, trying to keep her voice low. “He’s tearing Sunghoon a new one.”

“What?” The word fell from your lips too loud it seemed based on the shush Wonyoung sent your way. “Why?” You said quieter this time.

“Suyu hated the draft we sent. The boss is capital P pissed.” Your eyes knit in worry. You thought about the conversation at the bar. The one that fueled the big fight you and Sunghoon had. He was using you as a scapegoat, was he not? Still he is being ridiculed. How strict were these girls and why did they hate every single thing Seoul magazine did. Why even keep coming back? You just didn't understand.

And if it were so widely known by the company, why is Sunghoon getting the brunt of it. Obviously nothing will please these girls no matter how much all of you try.

“Why do they keep coming if they hate us so much?”

“Suyu is like in love with Sunghoon, but he rejected her. I think it's some kind of revenge. I don't know, that girl is crazy.” Wonyoung huffed. “Great, now Sunghoon’s going to be in a shit mood all day.”

Her words served as a catalyst to your next idea, an idea that’ll help you break the ice with Sunghoon. You told yourself you wouldn't do this at work, but you couldn't think of a better place to get Sunghoon’s mind off of his boss and Suyu. So, you waited. You waited a whole hour till the sound of Sunghoon’s office door opening was heard by the entire floor. The booming voice of what you could only assume was the big boss. He turned the corner entering the cubicles with a scowl on his face. He was an older man, balding with deep wrinkles. He definitely looked..aged. He walked down the hallway with an emotionless expression that had a shiver running down your spine in intimidation.

You couldn't believe you ever thought Sunghoon was intimidating, this man was pure intimidation to its core. He looked angry and that was something you definitely didn't want to deal with. A part of you began to feel defensive as he walked down the hall getting closer and closer to passing by your desk.

How dare he blame Sunghoon or anyone else for that matter for Suyu and her members not liking the cover. From what you've been hearing she didn't like anything. How could you fail your employees who were working tirelessly on a project destined for failure. The corporate word was brutal, and this right here was proof.

It had your blood boiling. You could only imagine what Sunghoon was feeling. Luckily the man passed by your desk with ease, not stopping to check out the newcomer. And as soon as he was out of your sight and you were sure he wasn't coming back you rose from your seat with a newfound confidence. One you didn't see from yourself very often.

It must have been your lucky day because Wonyoung was no longer at her desk, she wouldn't be able to spot you leaving in the direction of Sunghoon’s office.

When you turned the corner coming face to face with his door your heart began to quicken in your chest as the reality of what you were about to do set in. knocking on the door you awaited for his response, it was a quick and curt “Come in.” If you weren't so insanely nervous you'd be turned on by his tone alone.

Sunghoon didn't bother to look up from his computer as you walked into the room, closing the door behind you and locking the door with one single click. The blinds to his clear glass windows were up, allowing anyone to peak in. You thank lord himself that his office was semi closed off from the rest of the floor. You grabbed the blinds, turning them so that they would come down, shielding the two of you from wandering eyes. When you turned back around Sunghoon’s eyes were now on you. His eyes gleamed curiously but also a hint of excitement?

“What are you doing Y/n?” He asked with a low voice.

“You seemed stressed.” You did your best at hiding the nervousness behind your voice. Masking it to the best of your ability. A smirk formed on his lips and you were slightly surprised by how fast he allowed you to infiltrate his office.

“Yeah?” He asked, leaning back in his chair with a smug look. “I am quite stressed.”

“I came to help.” You sent an innocent smile as you crossed your hands behind your back swaying your body lightly. “However you need me to.’

You walked up to his desk as he pushed his chair back, making room for you. You stood next to his sitting figure, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. Sunghoon looked up at you with a coy, very very sexy expression. His hands sneakily circled your waist pulling you closer to his lap.

“However I want?” He hummed.

You gasped softly as he grabbed at the flesh of your ass roughly in his big hands. He set a small smack to the clothes skin, a laugh bubbling in his chest when a sheen blush coated your cheeks.

“You're so cute.” He teased with a smile, turning you into a puddle of yourself with one simple upturn of his lips. “Turn around.” He demanded.

But before he could push you around to face his desk you stood firmly in place. Using your finger to his chest to send sitting back in his chair up right. Waiting and wanting for you. You were in charge here, not him.

“No.” Your voice was stern, no sign of the nervousness brewing inside of you. “I’m in charge here.”

“Are you now?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

“Mhm” You hummed, falling to your knees in front of him. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

You made quick work of unzipping the zipper of his dress pants and pulling his length out before he could let out so much as a breath.

“We don't have much time, so I'll need you to be quick.” Your words were accompanied by a small lick to the side of his length. All the way from the top to the very bottom. Sunghoon’s eyes darkened as he took in your kneeling figure before him. Gone was the sexy, smug smirk. A look of pure desperation in its place.

“Can you do that?” You were teasing him, playing with him like a cat playing with a mouse. His breath came out short, his chest heaving.

A single nod. Was all the confirmation he gave, along with a tight lip and the tilt of his head. You decided you were done teasing him. You attached your mouth to his length. Only half of him being able to fit before your gagging.

“Holy f-fuck.” Sunghoon stuttered as you worked your mouth along his length, using your hand to cover the rest that wouldn't fit.

“That’s so hot.” He hissed, his words serving as a catalyst for you to keep going. Your hand circled down cupping his balls in your hands. Giving a slight squeeze.

“Oh fuck!” Sunghoon cupped his hands over his mouth to try and silence himself. The last thing we needed was for someone to hear you.

Moving up and down faster and faster you were left waiting and wanting for Sunghoon to cum down your throat, excited for the warmth he would provide.

You slipped him out of your mouth with a gasp, jerking him rapidly to keep your pace. “How’s that feeling?” You asked him, sticking your tongue out.

“Go-oh fuck-good.” Sunghoon’s words were slurred as you slipped his dick back inside of the heat of your mouth, slurping and lapping like a hungry slut.

“I’m close” He was wheezing, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You want it in your mouth baby? You want me to cum down your little throat?” You nodded along his length, excited.

“I’m almost there.” His voice now a whisper, his eyebrows knitted holding onto the arm of the chair with white knuckles. “I’m-oh”

His cum shot down your throat on spurts as you lapped at him like a dog in heat, moaning. Draining him until he was empty and heaving.

Your mouth left his length, wiping the sides messily.

“Fuck.” Sunghoon tried to regulate his breathing and looked down at you with big wide eyes. “What the hell was that for?”

“You were stressed.” You shrugged your shoulders in an attempt at looking nonchalant but you weren't really sure if he was buying your act.

“Well..Thank you?” He said it as a question, causing a laugh to bubble inside of you as clarity sent in.

“Wonyoung said the boss was in here giving you a hard time. I just wanted to help you out.”

“You did help me out. A lot.” His smile sent a warm feeling shooting through you, falling to the pit of your stomach. The feeling embarrassed you. This was a game you had to remind yourself of, just fun. Absolutely no strings attached, so why were you feeling so warm and fuzzy? Don't be ridiculous.

“Is everything ok?” You asked. Sunghoon nodded, his smile falling from his face.

“Suyu hated the cover, as we all knew she would. He was chewing me out for it. Says everything about it needs to change.”

“What?” Your shock was palpable. Your anger is even more so. “There’s only two more months left.” You couldn’t imagine why the company would allow such abuse from a client, how could they want a group of people they know i'll be dissatisfied no matter what you did. It made no sense to you, and it angered you even more. You, Wonyoung, Jay, and Sunghoon have been working tirelessly on the cover for over a month now. It was unfair for them to come in and pick it apart.

“Doesn’t matter.” Sunghoon said with a tired expression. “The company says scrap it, so we scrap it.”

“Are they going to give us an extra month to work on it?” You questioned, you had a feeling you knew the answer to that already but still you waited for Sunghoon to respond.

“No.” He answered, exactly as you knew he would. For some reason being prepared for his answer didn’t lessen the blow. “That’s bullshit.” You hissed out running a hand tiredly through your hair “And not fair.”

“I know.” He responded. It was clear to you that Sunghoon was dejected. He knew that no matter how unfair it was that the company just wouldn’t budge. This was what they wanted and now you and the rest of your team were going to have to work ten times harder to get the cover done in time.

The next monday Sunghoon isn’t in office. He’s off on a business trip until the end of the week and you couldn’t help but curse yourself every time you started to miss him. Sunghoon wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your boss and someone you were having sex with occasionally. Someone who has made you feel things you’ve never felt before. Especially during sex, and especially almost every time you and Sunghoon kissed or had sex, or sometimes even touched you were flashed with something that feels like a memory, a vision of something that felt familiar but you had never actually done before. You couldn’t figure it out. You were beginning to believe you were going crazy, that was the only plausible explanation for all this, right?

At night you're left mulling over the fact that after even a month you still could not find your red bracelet. It was just…gone. It was even weirder to watch Sunghoon walk around with one exactly like it on his wrist, but he had no way of getting it. You had lost it the day you met him. He was rich and very well off. There was no way a man like Park Sunghoon would go through the trouble of stealing a dingy old red string that was close to falling apart any second, it just made no sense.

They still didn’t erase the fact that it was nowhere to be seen, if it weren’t for your very very distracting month at this new job you were certain the absence of itt would drive you absolutely mad.

Finally on what felt like an overwhelmingly long Wednesday you were home, alone in your solitude and you figured if you couldn’t find your red string, you’d be better off looking through the journals your grandmother left you. After the month you’ve had you could use her wisdom right about now.

Your grandmother was your rock growing up, she was basically your mother and your father all rolled into one. You found your grandmother’s journals tucked away, in a small cardboard box in your closet. You hadn’t had the gull to open them since she died. You flipped through the pages one by one, reading all the words she left behind for you.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until a singular tear fell onto the old yellowed pages of the journal leaving a wet stain in its wake. You had missed her, everyday and you knew you would continue to miss her.

The pages your grandmother left you - had been full of advice. Advice about mundane things, like doing laundry or cooking with the best recipes. Some of the advice was more heavy, like what to do in case of a death, or a breakup or when you got married and had children. And some of the advice was also about love, and how she believed that soulmates were real. Tied together by the red string of fate you couldn’t see. When two people were connected solely to each other in all lifetimes. It would be beautiful if it were true. That’s what you always taught yourself. That it was a made up thing that only people in love believed.

You continued to sift through her journal, to the portion where it became a daily write down of what she started doing throughout the days. You flip through the pages, each filled with words written in rich ink, her voice murmuring between the lines. Some entries are small snippets of her days—what she made for dinner, a flower she saw blooming outside, a storm rolling in from the east. Others are longer, winding passages that carry something heavier, something deeper. You read about her dreams, her fears, the love she once had and lost.

Then, a passage catches your eye, and your breath stills. The red string of fate never breaks, it reads. Even if cut, even if frayed, it finds a way to mend itself. There is no fighting destiny when it has set its sights on you. You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around the fragile edge of the paper. Your grandmother always told you about the red string, whispering its legend into your ear as she tucked you into bed. She told you that everyone had a soulmate, a person meant to be tied to them no matter the distance, no matter the circumstances. She had one, she’d said once, a man she loved but lost. But she never spoke of him much beyond that, only that he was real and that she had seen him in ways no one else could.

You continue reading, heart pounding. When you touch them, you will see. A glimpse, a flicker. The universe will reveal what you are meant to know. It will not be loud. It will not be obvious. But it will be there. Because you know exactly what she means. At least you think you did. The memories come flooding back, unbidden. The first time it happened, you were with Sunghoon, It had been fleeting, so quick you almost convinced yourself you imagined it. In his office the day the two of you kissed for the first time. Surely that is unlike what your grandmother was describing right?

But then, you remembered another time, the time you and Sunghoon had sex for the first time at his apartment, when he was deep inside of you, whispering filth into your ear, your vision blurred and overcome with a memory that had never happened before. You had seen a future that had never happened. You saw something that shouldn’t exist. You saw fragments of moments that had no place in your reality. You saw his smile beneath a different sun, heard his voice whispering your name like a prayer, felt an ache in your chest that wasn’t yours but still belonged to you.

You had written it off as nothing. A trick of the mind. The product of exhaustion. But here, in your grandmother’s journal, written in ink that had dried long before you were born, was an answer you never wanted to find. Visions come with touch. You slam the journal shut, chest rising and falling too fast. Your heartbeat roars in your ears. This is ridiculous. This is crazy. You��re not some character in a fairy tale. You don’t believe in soulmates. And even if you did - Even if you did…Sunghoon? It’s impossible. It’s just a coincidence. A trick of your mind. You refuse to entertain anything else.

Your hands tremble as you shove the journals back into the box, your grandmother’s words still lingering in the air. You try to shake them off, but they have already settled deep, weaving themselves into your bones like an undeniable truth. You take a breath and force yourself to move, to step away, to pretend that your heart isn’t beating in a rhythm that spells out a name. Sunghoon. And though you don’t want to, though you tell yourself you won’t - You start to wonder if your grandmother was right all along.

That night, your phone buzzes against the nightstand. The screen illuminates the dark room, casting a soft glow over the journals still left in disarray on the floor. It’s Sunghoon. You stare at his name, your stomach twisting in a way that feels unfamiliar. After everything you read tonight, after the storm brewing inside you, you should let it ring. Let it go to voicemail. Pretend you’re asleep, pretend you’re not affected. But you aren’t strong enough to resist him.

With a sigh, you swipe to answer. "Hey." There’s a pause, then a low chuckle on the other end. "Wow, you actually picked up. Thought I’d have to leave a dramatic voicemail about how I died of boredom without you."

You roll your eyes, but your lips curve despite yourself. "Dramatic and pathetic. I expected nothing less." He hums, his voice warm, lazy. "Guilty. My meetings were dull as hell. Just numbers and more numbers. I was about five minutes away from faking a fire alarm to get out of there." You laugh softly, shaking your head. "You should've done it. Would’ve made the news.

"See, this is why I call you. You always encourage my worst ideas." His tone shifts, something teasing in the way he lingers over the words. A slow smile tugs at your lips before you can help it. "You must really be bored if you’re calling me instead of drinking overpriced whiskey at some networking event."

"Oh, I was bored. But now..." He exhales, slow and deliberate. "Not so much." A shiver traces your spine at the weight in his voice. He isn’t even here, and yet he still manages to reach inside you, find the parts of you that respond so easily to him. You swallow, shifting under the sheets. "Sunghoon—"

"What are you wearing?" It’s sudden, leaving your cheeks a bright red and mouth wide open in shock.

You nearly choke. "Excuse me?"

He laughs, unbothered. "Relax, and tell me. What are you wearing?”

Your face burns, and you glare at the ceiling. "Oh my god."

"What? It’s a totally normal question." He pushes, and you can see that smirk in your head. That smirk that you love so much. "It is not."

“So?” The nonchalance in his voice heats up your body, wishing he was here to satisfy the ache inside of you. You sigh, rubbing your temple. "A tank top and shorts."

There’s a hum of approval on the other end. "Cute. Wish I was there." Your breath hitches, pulse jumping in your throat. This isn’t new. The past few weeks you and Sunghoon have been pushing, teasing, toeing the line between playful and something heavier. But tonight, after everything, the weight of his words feels different. Dangerous.

"I should go to sleep," you say, though the thought of hanging up makes your chest tighten. "Yeah?" He sounds amused. "You tired? Or are you just afraid of where this conversation is going?" Your heart pounds, a war raging inside you. You should shut this down. You should keep your distance. But instead, you whisper, "I’m going to touch myself and think of you while doing it"

A sharp cough was heard over the speaker, then a hum. “You don’t have to go to do that.” He whispers, his voice now husky and low. It sends shivers down your spine and heat down your core. You really really wished he was here. “You can do it, while talking to me.”

“W-what-” You stuttered out, your heart pounding in your chest. Was he suggesting phone sex? And were you seriously considering it? “Don’t leave.” He says and you could almost imagine the laid back smirk on his face, the shrug of his shoulders as if this was nothing, as if he did this all the time. That thought made you feel slightly queasy so you pushed far from your mind.

“Okay..” You said softly. “What do I do?” Your voice was tight, unsure. You only hoped he didn’t notice how nervous you were.

“Have you never done this before?” There was a hint of surprise in his tone, it made you acutely aware of just how inexperienced you are.

“No.” You answered honestly, “Never.”

“Fuck.” Sunghoon cursed on the other end. “That’s hot.” The words had left you dumbfounded, he thought your inexperience was…hot? “Take off your pants.” His voice lowered even more, becoming more husky and rasp. You felt the wetness in your panties already, you didn’t even have to look to know. That was the kind of effect Sunghoon had on you. You had very visceral reactions to him, you couldn’t help it. The man looked like a fucking god, and you did as he said.

You lifted your hips slightly, sliding the pajama shorts you wore off in one fail swoop. “My panties too?-”

“No!” Sunghoon hissed out. You jumped at the urgency in his voice. “No.” He said softer. “Just wait.”

“Okay.” Sunghoon’s breath was a bit faster on the other end of the phone, heavier. You were no idiot, you knew his cock was in his hand, stroking up and down as he told you what to do with yourself. He was just as much a mess as you were, he was just better at hiding it.

“Are you wearing a bra?” He asked with ragged breath. You shook your head “No.” Finding even the smallest word is hard to say. Sunghoon wasn't even here in the flesh and he still managed to take your breath away. Your own breath was ragged as his voice carried every single syllable with a rich sound. His tone captures your attention, shooting straight for your core.

“Circle your clit over your panties, sweetheart.” Sunghoon instructed you. Your hand traveled down the expanse of your body as a small whimper escaped your lips. Your nimble fingers found your wet and waiting bud, rubbing it over your panties creating the most delicious feeling coursing through your veins.

“Nice and slow, okay?” You nod your head even though he can’t see you. A small “uh-huh” escaping your mouth and into the receiver.

“Good girl..keep going.” You continued your slow and torturous rhythm over your clit. It felt good but you needed …more. Your hips rise off the bed as you search for any form of release. Your body was wanting, your moans needy. You knew that Sunghoon was well aware just how badly you needed him. How badly you craved him but this was all you could get, and you’d take it for now.

“How wet are you, baby?” Sunghoon’s breath was even more ragged than before, the tune of his chest heaving serving as a catalyst to your need for. “So wet…” You mewed out the land not on your clit stuck clutching at your bedsheets for dear life. “I need more..”

“Okay, sweetheart..” He cooed with slight amusement. “Pull your panties to the side and stick one; just one finger in..” You hum doing as he instructed with quick precision. The slide of your finger inside of you was potent. You needed this, and although it was not as good as Sunghoon this was certainly second best given the circumstances. “Now move your fingers in and out..slow though.”

“Fuck.” You whined, your hips leaving your bed once again. Your other hand traveled up the side of your body cupping your tit in your palm and squeezing. “I wish I could see you hoon..” You sighed out. Sunghoon’s breathed hitched a soft puff of air leaving his lips like the melody to your favorite song. You’d get drunk on the sounds of his moans if you could, bottle them up and savor every single hum, every single tune.

“I know, baby. I wish I could see you too..” He trailed off. “I know you look so pretty with your fingers stuffed in your pretty little cunt.” His words shot shivers up your spine, your end already nearing. From the sound of his moans and groans it was obvious he was pretty close as well.

“Add another one.” He demanded suddenly. You did as he said, adding another finger roughing moving them in and out of you. “Fucking- i can hear how wet you are from here.”

“I’m so fucking wet-oh god.” Your legs shook your ending near dangerously close. “I’m close-”

“Me too sweetheart keep going.” The only other sound on the other end of the phone was Sunghoon’s grunts and groans as the two of you catapulted to your end, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Pleasure washing over you and blurring your vision.

“Oh my god.” You huffed. Sunghoon’s breathed slowed neither of you saying a word for close to five minutes, just basking in the post orgasm clarity.

“Uh..” Sunghoon breahed over the end of the receiver, his voice back to normal now void of the lustful words he was just muttering to you. “Thanks.” He said. Thanks. “I- i should go. Meeting in the morning.”

“S-sure.” You stuttered out awkwardly. “Goodnight, see you soon.” The two of you hung up and all that was left was the silence of your empty apartment aside from you. You could hear the beating of your own heart in your ears as slow realization started to settle in. You were starting to fall for Sunghoon, like the fool you were.

Sunghoon comes back the next monday, and the moment you see him at the office, all the doubts that had clouded your mind dissolve under the heat of his gaze. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. but when your eyes meet across the meeting room, a slow, knowing smile curves his lips. That night, it happens again. In his office, door locked, his mouth on yours before you can even drop your bag. Later, in the backseat of his car after a late dinner with the team. Then again the next morning, in your apartment kitchen, the scent of coffee mixing with the sound of your quiet gasps.

You can’t stay away from each other. Every opportunity you have you take it. You fall back into it with him; it's reckless and urgent, as though nothing had changed. But it has. You have. You were falling from him, stupidly so and you didn't know what to do. The visions still come. Stronger now. They strike like lightning, hot and bright; brief, impossible glances into a life that feels half yours. Every time he touches you, it’s there: a home you’ve never seen, a child’s laugh echoing from another world, his hand in yours under unfamiliar stars. And worse, your heart aches for him when he isn’t near. You think about him when you shouldn’t. You crave the sound of his voice, the small way he furrows his brow when he’s deep in thought, the gentle way he tugs your wrist when he wants your attention but can’t say it aloud.

Wonyoung notices. Just like you knew she eventually would, that girl wasn’t dumb she was bound to connect the dots. But like you and Sunghoon agreed. No one could know. Not even her and Jay, who you wanted to tell so badly. She corners you in the lounge one afternoon, her voice low but sharp. "Are you sleeping with Sunghoon?"

You nearly drop your coffee. "What? No. That’s- why would you even ask that?” Deny. deny. deny. no matter what, you have to deny it. She folds her arms. "Because you’ve been weird. Both of you. And don’t even try to lie. You’ve got your guilty face on."

You look away, feigning casual interest in the humming vending machine. "You’re imagining things."

"Jay said Sunghoon’s been acting weird too. Moody. Distracted. Like, smiling during budget meetings." You tried to not let her words fool you. It was strictly about sex with Sunghoon that was all, nothing more nothing less. Him smiling could have been about anything. Sunghoon’s life did not revolve around you, that was for certain. You want to grin at the thought of this being something more, but you're not an idiot. So instead, You snort. "That is suspicious."

She doesn’t laugh. "Come on. I’m not judging you. I just want to know what’s going on. Are you okay?" That question cuts deeper than you expect. Are you okay? You don’t know. Because you can’t tell your best friend that the man you’re sleeping with- the man who is your boss, your complication, is also possibly the person fate tied you to long before you were even born. The man you're falling in love with but is clearly not interested in you that way. You force a smile. "I’m fine. Really."

Wonyoung studies you for a long beat before sighing. "Just… be careful, okay? Whatever this is, don’t lose yourself in it." You nod, but the truth is, it’s already too late. You’re tangled in it. In him. And you don’t know how to find your way out. You felt like you were drowning and you had no one to shout for to help you, to throw you a raft that would save your life.

For times like this you truly missed your grandmother. You missed her wisdom, you missed her comfort. Life truly was not fair. One could even call it cruel to take the one person in this world who understood you most.

That night, you sit alone on your bed, the city’s glow smudged outside your window, the journals beside you once more. You open one with hesitant fingers, seeking your grandmother’s voice like a balm. She would know what to say. She’d tell you to listen to your heart, to trust the quiet truths hidden in touches and dreams. She’d tell you that the red string does not lie, and that love- true love is rarely convenient or safe.

If your heart is confused, it’s because it’s being rewritten, she once wrote. Love doesn’t always ask permission to change us. It simply does. And with Sunghoon, you are changing. Becoming someone softer, someone braver. Someone terrified. You press your fingers to the page and wonder: if she were here now, would she tell you to leap? Or would she warn you to run? You close the journal, and all you can think about is the way he looked at you today. Like he already knew. Like maybe he’s wondering the same thing too.

The call comes at 5:12 AM. Shaking you from your sleep in the dead of night. Your phone buzzes against your nightstand, the shrill sound tearing through the quiet like a blade through silk. The sky outside is still the bruised blue of predawn. You fumble for your phone, blinking blearily at the screen. Mom.

Your breath catches. You haven’t seen her name light up your phone since the day they buried your grandmother. Five years of silence stretched like frost between you, untouched and unthawed. Your thumb hovers. You think of ignoring it. But something in your chest twists; tight, sharp. You have to answer it. Your mother wouldn’t be calling you for no reason. There had to be a reason and it had to be a bad one.

“Hello?” Your voice is husky from sleep still laced in it. Your eyes heavy lidded. There’s a beat of silence. Then her voice, thin and unfamiliar, like wind pressed through a cracked window. “Your father died.” The words hit like a slap, so sudden they leave your mind blank. No preamble. No explanation. Just a raw, stripped-bare truth.

“What?” you whisper. Disbelief seeping into your bones, into your core and through your blood straight to your heart. Your…father…dead? She exhales; soft, almost annoyed. “He had a heart attack. A month ago.” She says it like it was an inconvenience. Like you were some passer-byer in her life. Like you meant very little, nothing. And you should be used to this feeling from her, but you werent. And you didn't think you would still be feeling it when you find out your very own father has died.

The air in your lungs evaporates. “A-a month ago?” You stutter out because it's the only thing you can think to say at the moment.

“We already had the funeral,” she says. “There wasn’t any reason to drag you into it. We didn’t think you’d care.” Each word was like a blow, over and over she didn't let up, didn't let you come up for air. No, she's watching you drown and she doesn't care. The words echo in your skull like a curse.

You sit up slowly, your voice barely there. “You didn’t tell me. You didn’t even call.” There’s a pause, long and uncomfortable. “You made your choice when you left. We didn’t think you wanted anything to do with us anymore.” An unexplainable sorrow seeped into your bones. Your heart dug a grave in your chest, laying in the hollow confines of your chest unmoving, unbreathing as the breath was stolen from your lungs with every word she muttered. With every single careless word she threw at you.

The anger comes in a slow burn, hot and low in your chest. You squeeze your eyes shut, try to breathe through it, but it festers. You had fought for your own life. For the right to step away from the toy shop that had become your parents’ shrine. For the right to be. Your grandmother had understood. She had stood in your corner when no one else would. She raised you while they drowned in their work. She held your hand through your first heartbreak. She showed you how to be soft in a world that tried to harden you. She’s the only one who ever had your back, and even in death that was apparent. And now this.

“I’m still his daughter,” you whisper. “I still had a right to know.” You didn’t know how to argue with her. How to tell her how hurt you were, you weren't even sure she would care if you did. If it was even worth the trouble. “I’m telling you now,” she says, like that counts. Like it erases the month of silence, the funeral you didn’t attend, the grave you didn’t get to stand over. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to crawl into your grandmother’s lap and let her brush the world out of your hair. But she’s gone. And now your father is, too. Your throat tightens. Your heart aches in places you thought you’d fortified long ago.

The call ends without resolution. Just the dull tone of disconnection. You sit in the dark, staring at nothing, until the light spills slowly across your floor, illuminating dust motes like falling stars. And still, the silence presses in. Not even the city outside dares to speak.

You curl into yourself, as small as you can be, and let the grief take you. Not for the man your father was, but for the chance to make it right. For the words you’ll never get to say. For the goodbye stolen from you like everything else. Somewhere, you hope your grandmother is watching. And you wonder what she would tell you now. Mourn, my love, she’d say. Even if they didn’t love you the way they should have, your heart still deserves to break.

You don’t go to work the next day. Calling in with the guise of being sick. You don’t check your phone, don’t answer the emails stacking themselves like bricks behind the glass of your locked screen. You don’t speak. There’s a silence inside you now that stretches so wide it makes the whole world seem distant, like you're floating somewhere outside of time. Wonyoung calls, Jay calls, even Sunghoon but you don’t answer. You can’t. What would you even say? Hey, I'm mourning the loss of my father who hated me, who didn’t even want me around. My father who loved his toy shop more than his daughter.

You sit by the window as the sun rises, too slow, too cruel. You watch it paint gold on buildings that don’t care you’re hurting. The city hums on without you, cars in motion, people in routine, everything ticking forward as if the foundation of your childhood didn’t just crack clean down the middle. A month. They buried him a month ago. Placed him into the earth like he was already forgotten. You press your forehead to the glass, eyes burning but dry. There are no tears yet. Only the weight. The kind that sits on your chest and makes it hard to breathe.

Your father is dead. Gone in the kind of quiet your family has always been good at. No announcement, no open arms, no room left for the wreckage of feelings. They buried him like a secret. Like he hadn’t raised you, even if poorly. Like he hadn’t once lifted you onto his shoulders to reach the highest shelf of the toy shop. Like he hadn’t once smiled when you built your first little wooden horse beside him, stained your fingers with varnish and paint. You didn’t love him the way daughters are told they should love their fathers. But you tried. You tried even when he didn’t see you, when the only things that ever lit up his eyes were the shelves of handcrafted dolls and tin soldiers.

When you left home, it wasn’t just leaving. It was betrayal in their eyes. You didn’t take over the shop, the pride and joy of your parents’ lives, the beating wooden heart of your bloodline. You chose a different kind of future. One not carved by someone else’s hands. Your own hands, for once in your life you made a decision for yourself and you paid for it. And for that, they stopped speaking to you. But this… this feels like a punishment. Like they wanted to wound you with the silence.

A sob punches through you suddenly, sharp and guttural, like something breaking. You clutch at your chest like you can hold the grief in, but it spills through your fingers anyway, wild and merciless. He’s gone. He’s gone and you didn’t get to say goodbye. Didn’t get to stand by his casket and remember the sound of his laugh, the thunder of his anger, the way his eyes used to flick to the door whenever your grandmother walked into the room. You didn’t get to speak your pain into the air or leave a single flower on the freshly turned earth. You didn’t even get to be a daughter. Just… forgotten. Discarded.

You don’t know how long you cry. The sun shifts, shadows stretch. Somewhere far away, a neighbor plays the radio and someone slams a door. You lie down on the hardwood floor, cheek pressed to the cold wood, your body curled inwards like you’re trying to become small enough to slip into a memory. Your grandmother would’ve wrapped you in a quilt by now. She would’ve brewed you chamomile tea and said, “Let yourself grieve. He was your father, even if he was flawed.” She would’ve let you rage. Would’ve held your hand and said the things no one else dared to say. Like, “It wasn’t your fault you needed to leave.” Or maybe even, “He should’ve told you he loved you before it was too late.” You whisper to the silence around you: “Why didn’t he call me?”

No answer. Only the echo of your breath and the trembling pulse of your heart, mourning not just him—but the version of you that still hoped he might reach out one day. That little girl who waited, and waited, and waited for him to choose her. Now she knows he never will. You reach for your grandmother’s journal again, fingers slow and reverent. You find a passage you hadn’t noticed before, dated the winter before she passed.

Loss is a winter that never fully thaws, she wrote. But love, my darling, love is what wraps the frost in color. You close your eyes. And for a moment, you can almost feel her hands on your shoulders, warm and certain.

You don’t remember falling asleep. Only the brittle stillness of morning, cracked open by the weight behind your ribs. You don’t know how he knew. Maybe Wonyoung told him something. Maybe your absence stretched too long, and your silence- your complete vanishing sounded different than usual. Maybe he could just feel it in the marrow of his bones the way animals feel the turn of the weather. But sometime just after noon, there’s a knock at your door. Firm. Measured. Familiar. You don’t move. Not at first. You sit there on the floor, wrapped in a blanket that doesn’t warm you, your hair tangled and your body still sore from the way grief wrings a person out from the inside. The knock comes again. Then his voice- low, steady, laced with something that makes your throat tighten.

“Y/N, open the door.” Sunghoon. Of course it’s him. You stand slowly, like your body no longer belongs to you, like every movement is a question you’re not sure you want answered. You reach the door, place your hand against it, feel the hum of him on the other side like a ghost pressed to your skin.

“Go away.” You whisper with all the strength you could muster. Which was not much, if any at all. A pause. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.”

You laugh, sharp and small and broken. “Too late for that.”

“Then let me in.” His voice is softer this time. It tugs at something inside you, something raw and already unraveling. But you don’t move. You can’t. Because if you see him…if you see those eyes, if he looks at you like you mean something, if he touches you- you’re afraid the dam will break. “Please,” he says.

You open the door. And the storm begins. He steps in like he always does, like this is still whatever tangled thing you’ve been pretending it is. You hate how relieved he looks just to see you. You hate that his presence does soothe something in you, even now, when everything in your world has come undone. “What’s going on?” he asks, his brow furrowed. “You disappeared.”

“I’m fine,” you lie. Because it’s the only thing you can do. You can’t burden him with your problems, you can't bear to bother him. “No, you’re not.” He steps closer, and that’s when you snap.

“Don’t,” you hiss, stepping back like he burned you. “Don’t pretend to care now.” You can feel the resolve of what's left of your life snapping, like the cliff you were holding onto with the tip of your finger was finally crumbling, eventually sending you hurtling to the ground at your demise. And you welcomed it, you didn't brace for the fall. Instead you held your hands out and allowed the wind to hit you face.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He’s defensive, understandably so.

Your voice rises before you can stop it, rage surging like fire through dry grass. “It means this- whatever this is, it’s not real, right? You don’t get to show up and act like I matter just because you haven’t gotten your fix in a few days.” You spit the words out with malice, ash on your tongue.

Sunghoon blinks, taken aback. “That’s not fair.”

“Fair?” You laugh, wild and bitter. “You think any of this is fair?” You’re crying now, tears you can’t stop, salt water spilling like grief is trying to pour out of you any way it can. You want to hurt the way you hurt, you want to destroy anything good in your life.

“I’ve been walking around pretending I don’t feel anything. Pretending this was just sex. Just tension. Just bad timing. But I do feel something, Sunghoon. I feel everything, and I can’t- I can’t keep pretending.” He opens his mouth, but you cut him off, voice trembling like a bridge about to collapse. And collapse it does. “I love you.”

Silence. Pure and utter silence. A silence you could go crazy in. A silence so loud you want to cup your hands over your ears and scream. You had never known a love like this. It was fierce and intense. it grabbed a hold of your heart like the constraints of a snake and never let it go. it swallowed your entire being, your entire soul. This love hurt.

“I don’t,” he says. Two words. Clean. Precise. A scalpel to the chest. You stare at him like you don’t recognize him. Like the person who just spoke isn’t the one who touched you like you were something sacred. Who kissed you like you were air and he’d been drowning.

“I never meant to lead you on,” he says, not meeting your eyes. “It just… got out of hand. This was a mistake. It was always going to be a mistake.” You want to scream. You want to throw something, tear the sky in half, bury yourself in the quiet dark where no one can find you again. Instead, your voice turns hollow. Cold. Like the ice seeping through your veins and freezing your heart.

“Get out.”

“Y/N—”

“Get out.”

He hesitates. But then he nods. Quiet. Like the coward he suddenly is. And just like that, he leaves. The door closes behind him with a finality that feels like a tomb sealing shut. You don’t collapse this time. You stay standing. But it hurts more. Somehow, it always does.

You wander back into the room like a ghost, like someone newly haunted. You grab your grandmother’s journal again, flipping through the pages with trembling fingers, searching for the red string passage like it might come alive and wrap itself around your hand and drag you back to the truth. But all you see is ink. All you see are lies.

Soulmates are real.You’ll know when you touch them.The universe will show you.

Lies. Because you touched him. And what did the universe show you?

A fool. You saw yourself as a fool, lit up in a soft glow, believing in something that never believed in you. You close the book slowly, your hands gentle this time. Like you’re mourning something more than a love lost. Like you’re mourning magic itself. If the red string exists, it’s tangled around your neck. Tight. Suffocating. Useless. You stare at the ceiling until your vision blurs. Until the world goes quiet again. You don’t know if you’ll ever believe in soulmates. You don’t know if you’ll ever believe in anything at all.

You don’t quit; though the thought slips across your mind like a blade held lightly between your teeth. Instead, you do what you’ve always done: you fold the pain into neat corners and tuck it behind your ribs. You wear your silence like armor, sharp and impenetrable. You show up to the office with eyes hollowed by sleepless nights and lips pressed into a line so thin it might vanish entirely. And you avoid Sunghoon like he’s the epicenter of the earthquake still rattling your bones. Because he is.

You stop taking the elevator if you think he’s in it. You pretend to be deep in work when he walks by. You leave meetings the second they end, ducking out before his eyes can find yours. But he notices. Oh, he notices. And like a cruel twist of fate, he doesn’t leave you alone. No, instead he becomes worse. Sharper. Colder. Crueler in the way only someone who once knew your soft parts can be.

“This is what you call a concept?” he says one morning, tossing your latest mock-up onto the conference table like it burned him to hold it. “Are you even trying?” You flinch. Wonyoung shoots you a look across the table, brows raised in alarm. Jay shifts uncomfortably, eyes flicking between you and your boss like he’s watching a scene unfold he was never meant to witness. “I thought it captured the essence of—”

“It’s flat,” Sunghoon interrupts. “Lifeless. If this is what you think the cover should look like, then maybe you’re in the wrong department.” The words land with the precision of gunfire. You nod once, slowly. Quietly. Swallowing everything you want to scream. The meeting ends, and you make it all the way back to your desk before the tears spill. Silent, shaking, defiant. You tell yourself to hold it together. But your hands won’t stop trembling, your heart won’t stop pounding.

Wonyoung finds you in the bathroom twenty minutes later, sitting on the tile with your knees pulled to your chest, mascara smudged like bruises beneath your eyes. “Y/N,” she breathes, crouching down beside you. “What’s going on?” You want to lie. To say it’s the pressure. That 's the deadline. That it’s anything other than what it is. But your heart’s a dam that’s already cracked open, and the truth rushes out in a flood.

“You were right,” you whisper, your voice small and trembling. “About me and Sunghoon.” She blinks. “You mean…?”

You nod, staring at the grout lines between the tiles like they might save you. “We’ve been sleeping together. For awhile now” She doesn’t say anything right away. Just sits beside you, quiet, letting the weight of it settle in the space between your words. “And I fell in love with him,” you choke, voice cracking like glass under pressure. “God, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to. But I did. I fell in love with someone who sees me as a mistake.”

Wonyoung’s expression softens with a tenderness that only true friendship can bring. She reaches for your hand, warm fingers wrapping around your cold ones. “I thought I could handle it,” you say. “I thought I could keep it casual. But then I started seeing him in everything. In every future I imagined. And then… he just—”

“Shut you out,” she finishes softly. You nod. Tears fall again, heavier this time. “He told me he didn’t love me. That it was a mistake. And now he’s punishing me for feeling anything at all.” Wonyoung doesn’t speak for a long moment. She just holds your hand, grounding you. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she says eventually, voice gentle but fierce. “You loved someone. You trusted him with that. That’s not weakness- that’s bravery.”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t feel brave. It feels pathetic.”

“It’s not,” she insists. “He’s the one who should feel ashamed. Not you.” The silence that follows is soft, heavy. But for the first time in days, it doesn’t feel suffocating. “I don’t think I believe in soulmates anymore,” you whisper, more to yourself than to her. “All that red string stuff my grandmother used to talk about… I thought maybe, just maybe it was real. But it’s not. It can’t be.”

Wonyoung doesn’t argue. She just rubs slow circles into the back of your hand, her presence a balm on skin still burning. Later, when you wash your face and force yourself back into the office, the world doesn’t look different. Sunghoon is still a shadow at the edge of your vision. The emails still pile up. The coffee still tastes like nothing. But something in you has cracked open and not just in pain. In truth. In the slow, aching beginning of letting go.

The office is quiet at night, humming only with the low whir of overhead lights and the distant tapping of your keyboard. You’ve buried yourself in work like it’s a lifeline diving into layouts, moodboards, and concept notes with the kind of intensity reserved for those desperate to feel anything but what’s clawing at their chest.

Today is a heavy day. A quietly suffocating one. Five years since your grandmother’s heart stopped beating. One month and change since your father’s did too. You didn’t tell anyone. Not Wonyoung. Not Jay. Certainly not Sunghoon. You just kept your head down and drowned in deadlines. So when the receptionist calls Sunghoon’s line to tell him there’s a flower delivery for you- late-night, unexpected; he frowns.

“Who the hell is sending flowers to Y/N at this hour?” he mutters. And he goes down to get them himself. His jaw is tight the entire elevator ride, fury swelling like a storm behind his eyes. By the time he’s back on your floor, bouquet in hand, the smell of white lilies and soft garden roses clogs his senses like betrayal. He doesn’t knock. He slams the door open so hard the hinge screams. You jump, startled, spinning around in your chair.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you gasp. But he doesn’t answer. He throws the flowers onto your desk like they’ve poisoned him. “So that’s it?” he snaps. “You’re already moving on?”

You stare at him, stunned. “What?” He points to the bouquet like it’s a smoking gun. “I just told you this was a mistake. That we should stop. And not even a week later, you’re already entertaining some new guy? Jesus, Y/N.”

Your voice sharpens. “They’re from Chaewon.”

“Who the fuck is Chaewon?”

“My childhood friend,” you say through clenched teeth. “My best friend since I was five. She sends me flowers every year on this day.” He blinks, momentarily thrown off. You rise to your feet, slowly, deliberately, and something in your expression must shift because he goes still. “Today is the five-year anniversary of my grandmother’s death,” you say quietly. “And the one-month mark since my father died. A death I wasn’t even told about until weeks later.” His lips part slightly, but no sound comes out.

“I’ve been holding myself together with frayed thread,” you go on, your voice trembling now. “I’ve been pushing through grief so heavy it’s crushed every part of me. And you- you come in here, spewing accusations and calling me names, because your ego can’t handle the idea that I might be wanted by someone else?”

You laugh, bitter and breathless. “I loved you, Sunghoon,” you say. “God help me, I did. I still do. Even after everything. But you humiliated me. You used me and then blamed me for having feelings. And now you have the audacity to show up here and call me a whore for getting flowers from my best friend?”

You shove the card toward him, your fingers shaking. He reads it. And his face falls. “Y/N,” he says softly. “I didn’t—”

“No,” you cut him off. “You don’t get to apologize now. You don’t get to regret it just because you misread the situation. You made yourself clear you don’t feel the same. You said it was a mistake. And I believed you.” He stands there, frozen, hands limp at his sides, the tension between you coiled so tightly it might snap the air in two. You stare at him for a long moment. Then your voice drops, quieter, sadder. “My grandmother used to tell me soulmates were real. She believed in fate. In red strings and destined touch. I used to believe her.”

You pick up the flowers, holding them gently. “But now I think soulmates are a myth we tell ourselves to feel less alone. And I’m done chasing ghosts.” You turn back to your screen, the cursor blinking like a pulse, pretending your soul didn’t just crack in half in front of him. You expect the door to shut. Expect his retreat. But it doesn’t come. Instead, silence stretches behind you. Dense. Breathless. Charged. You feel Sunghoon’s eyes on you, like he doesn't know what to say but he wants, no needs to say something.

You wished he didn’t. You wished he would walk out that door so you can continue to cry where he can’t see you. Where you can feel ashamed and embarrassed outside of his prying eyes.

“I’m not leaving.” You freeze. Your breath catches, like the pause before a sob. “I was going to,” Sunghoon says, voice low, rough. “I was halfway out the door, but… I couldn’t do it.” You don’t turn around. Can’t. You’re too full of salt and sorrow and the ghosts of people who should still be breathing. He takes a tentative step closer. And you wince.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “That was cruel. What I said- what I called you. I didn’t mean it. I just… I panicked.” You laugh under your breath, bitter. “Panicked because someone sent me flowers?”

“No, well-yes.” He says truthfully. “I don’t know how to handle this,” he continues. “You… you scare the shit out of me, Y/N.” You finally look at him. And what you see on his face is not arrogance. Not ego. It’s a boy standing barefoot in a storm, trying to keep the wind from pulling everything he loves out of his hands.

“I’ve never told anyone this,” he says. “Not even Jay. But my grandfather died three years ago. Right before I got hired”

You blink, caught off guard. “You never mentioned—”

“We weren’t close. Not for most of my life,” he admits. “But toward the end, when his memory started slipping, he talked about her. This woman he met when he was young. Said she was the love of his life. But he never got the timing right. Always one step too late.”

Something in your chest goes very still.

“The day he died, he gave me this.” He pulls up the sleeve of his coat, pointing to the red bracelet, completely identical to your missing one. “He said it belonged to her. The woman he never stopped loving.”

You reach out without thinking, your fingers brushing against the red string. “My grandmother,” you whisper, heart pounding like thunder behind your ribs. “She had a story too. She used to tell me about this boy she loved in her youth. They lost each other. She never told me his name. Just that he left, and she never stopped waiting.” Sunghoon’s breath catches. “What was her name?”

“Eunju.” His eyes close. “That’s her,” he says. “That’s the name.”

The room shifts. Time folds inward. And suddenly, you’re not two people standing in an office under flickering fluorescent light. You’re the echo of two others who once stood on the edge of a different beginning. Souls that never found their way back- until now. “I don’t even know what this means,” you whisper. “But it feels like something bigger than us.”

“It does,” he says, voice barely more than breath. “And it scares the hell out of me.” Your eyes sting. “Then why did you push me away?” you ask. “Why did you say it was a mistake?” His gaze drops, heavy with guilt.

“Because I’ve never had something I didn’t know how to ruin. And you… you’re not something I could just forget after. You were never just sex, Y/N. You were the first thing that made me feel human in a long time. And I didn’t know what to do with that.” You’re quiet for a long moment.

“Say it,” you whisper. “Say how you feel. Stop hiding behind fear.” You’ve had enough of the hiding of the fear. You needed to hear him say it out loud. You weren’t asking him to shout to the rooftops or brag about to everyone he knows but you needed that confirmation, or it wouldn’t feel real. Whatever you two learned about each other wouldn't feel real until he said the one thing you needed to hear from him. “I have feelings for you,” he says, the words breaking from him like waves on rocks. “Too many. And I don’t know how to carry them without dropping them at your feet and praying you don’t run.”

Your throat closes up. Emotion wells like a tide, like a wound too long ignored. “You think I haven’t been carrying them too?” you say, stepping closer. “You think I haven’t been trying to rip you out of my heart every time you looked at me like I was just something easy to forget?”

He flinches. “I never looked at you like that.”

“Then why did you pretend this meant nothing?”

“Because I’m not good at this. Because I didn’t want to break you.”

“You did anyway.” The silence that follows is heavy, but not empty. It hums with unfinished truths and fragile hope. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “For every time I let my fear speak louder than my heart.” As you look at the bracelet on his wrist and feel your grandmother’s love lingering like smoke around your shoulders, you can’t help but wonder if some love stories are meant to be rewritten. Not with new words- but with new hands. Hands that aren’t afraid anymore. Hands that are willing to try.

You decide to try.

It isn’t some cinematic confession, no fireworks or strings or sweeping score. It’s quieter than that. It lives in the way he brushes your hair back from your face like you’re something fragile he’s learning how to hold. It lives in the way you don’t flinch this time when his arms wrap around you like an anchor. Neither of you says this is love - not yet. But you say: I want to try. And that is more than enough. The night unspools between you slow and warm, like honey melting down the edge of a glass. Sunghoon kisses you like he’s never tasted something real before. His touch is different now - not just hungry, but reverent, as if every inch of you holds secrets he’s finally ready to hear. He takes you to his apartment, carefully peeling away at you, layer by layer and you let him. You revel in the feeling.

You fall into each other like waves crashing in a quiet tide. His hands roam your skin like they’re mapping a route back home. He whispers your name into your mouth like a promise, like an apology, like an offering. And when it’s over, when you’re tangled in each other’s limbs, skin still glowing from the heat of it all, he doesn't move away. Instead, he lifts you gently, carries you to the bathroom with soft steps and softer eyes. The bath is already running, steam curling up toward the ceiling like incense smoke. He lowers you into the water first, then slips in behind you, his arms coiled around your waist, his chest a steady drumbeat against your back.

for a while, you just sit in silence, water lapping around you, time slowing to a heartbeat. Then it hits. Not like the others- not a flicker, not a shimmer behind your eyes. This time, it’s a storm. You’re no longer in the bathtub. The warm water is gone. Sunghoon’s arms are gone. You're being wheeled through sterile hallways bathed in fluorescent white. The lights above you strobe like lightning, blinding and sharp. Your chest is tight, your vision blurry. You hear voices; clipped, urgent. “She’s crashing—get the crash cart—”

“BP dropping—move—” Hushed but urgent ringing in your ears.

“Miss? Can you hear me?” Your body feels too heavy, your limbs suspended between planes. You're trying to speak. Your lips move but your voice is paper-thin. “Where’s… Sunghoon?” you murmur. “Please… tell him I—” And then; Darkness. Complete darkness. The memory rips away as fast as it came, and suddenly you're back in the bath, water sloshing against the sides. Your breath is caught in your throat, your heart galloping like it’s trying to outrun something it hasn’t even seen yet.

Sunghoon notices instantly. “Hey—” he sits up straighter behind you, arms tightening. “You okay?” You nod, too fast. “Yeah. Yeah, I just… got dizzy for a second.” He doesn’t push. Just smooths his hands along your arms, grounding you. But inside, your mind is spinning. That wasn’t just a flashback. It didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like something you hadn’t lived yet. Like a prelude to pain. A warning sealed inside your bones. It felt so real and raw, the pain you felt lying on that bed was real, until it wasn’t.

And it came now, when you were warm, when you were loved, when your body was finally held like a prayer and not a battlefield. The world shifts under your skin. But you swallow it down. For now, you lean back into him, trying to chase comfort, to drown out the tremble in your spine. His lips press to your shoulder, slow and unknowing. You don’t tell him what you saw. Not yet. Because the moment is still soft. The red thread is still stitching you both closer. And whatever that flash was… it can wait. The heart, after all, can only carry so much weight at once. And tonight all you wanted to be was in love.

Something shifts after that night; gently, like the seasons turning without permission. Not a dramatic tilt, not a bolt of lightning, just a hush in the way the world begins to hold its breath when the two of you are in the same room. You and Sunghoon begin working on the project again. A visual campaign wrapped in pastel chaos and sharp, defiant edges. But this time, it’s different. The air between you hums with something alive, something unspoken, something tender. You sit beside him at the long conference table, your laptops open, coffee cups sweating, and you find yourself stealing glances when you think he won’t notice. Except… he always does. And he smiles. That smile you were beginning to love more and more everyday.

Those soft, rare smiles that melt in the corners of his mouth like sugar. He doesn’t say much in the meetings, still the same gruff, perfectionist Sunghoon who eyes fonts like they’ve insulted him personally but now, there’s a warmth beneath it all. A hand that finds yours under the table. A look that lingers just a beat too long when you laugh. “You two,” Wonyoung says one afternoon, flicking her pen dramatically in your direction, “are not as subtle as you think.”

You freeze. So does Sunghoon. Jay, across the room, just snorts and mutters, “Took them long enough.” But that’s it. That’s all they say. There’s no big reveal, no confrontation, just a collective decision to let it be. To let this new, fragile thing you’re growing unfold on its own.

And unfold it does. There’s a rhythm now. A cadence. Mornings that begin with Sunghoon brushing his knuckles across your cheek while you’re still half-asleep, his tie hanging loose, the scent of cinnamon toast curling in from the kitchen. Lunchtimes filled with casual touches, a hand grazing your back, fingers brushing yours as he passes you a folder. Evenings spent buried in mood boards and color palettes and sketches, your bodies leaning closer and closer until work becomes the excuse to stay near. And even longer evenings spent between the sheets wrapped up in one another.

You catch him drawing you once. Not on purpose. It’s a rough doodle on the side of his notes, half-shadowed in graphite, your profile rendered in a way that makes your breath catch. “Is that me?” you ask, teasing.

He doesn’t deny it. Just shrugs, eyes still on his screen. “It’s habit now.” There’s a softness to it all. A lullaby woven into the mundane. The kind of romance that grows in the quiet in the brushing of hands as you reach for the same pen, in the way he starts memorizing your coffee order without ever asking, in the long stares across the office when he thinks no one’s looking. But you’re always looking. And falling. Falling deeper every day.

One night, you stay late, the others long gone and it’s just you and Sunghoon at the office, the windows reflecting the golden haze of the city outside. You’re both reviewing final edits, shoulders brushing every so often. He’s mid-sentence, talking about lighting contrast, when he glances over and stops. “What?” you ask, heart fluttering. He stares for a moment longer, then says, almost reverent, “You’re beautiful.” The words are simple. But the way he says them- like they’re sacred, like they’re truth — makes you feel like the whole world paused to let them echo.

You kiss him. There, in the fading light, paper scattered like fallen petals around you, hearts pressed too close to pretend you’re still pretending. And maybe it’s too soon. Maybe it’s foolish. But you can’t help it. With Sunghoon, love doesn’t feel like falling. You weren’t afraid to keep falling in love.

Soon, you were doing things outside of work and his or your apartment. Soon you were going on dates and even double dates with Wonyoung and Jay. You forgot all about the red bracelet you were still missing and the fact that the father who didn't really care for you was dead, you forgot that the project was most likely going to fail and there was nothing you could do about it. All you knew was that even if it did, you would have Sunghoon in your corner as your support, defending you and himself as he should.

It was a Saturday night and Wonyoung and Jay wanted to go out. Bowling, you couldn’t pass it up. The bowling alley glows in soft retro neon, half bathed in violet and seafoam, the kind of lighting that feels a little bit like a dream. The air hums with pop music and the sound of pins clattering against waxed wood, laughter curling from every direction like it’s something you can breathe in. You’re leaning against the plastic bench seating in lane thirteen, watching Wonyoung do a celebratory spin after knocking down seven pins. Her oversized sweatshirt flutters like a cape behind her, and Jay’s clapping like she just won a gold medal.

"Did you see that curve?" she gasps, strutting back like she’s on a runway. “I think I was a bowling prodigy in another life.”

“You didn’t get a strike,” Jay deadpans, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays him. He kisses her cheek anyway. You’re laughing when Sunghoon comes back from the snack counter with a tray balanced in one hand; two sodas, a tub of buttery popcorn, and a red-and-white-striped basket of chili cheese fries that smells dangerously good. “Is this a date or an artery-clogging death wish?” you tease, taking a fry and popping it into your mouth.

He shrugs, setting the tray down beside you. “Both.” You roll your eyes but your heart flutters anyway, that strange, silly way it always does around him now. Soft and full and entirely too much.

“Alright, your turn, lovebirds,” Wonyoung sing-songs, tossing you a ball with sparkly green nail polish. “Let’s see who’s the real athlete here.” Sunghoon stands, cracking his neck with exaggerated drama. “Prepare to be humbled.”

You snort. “Please. You design magazine covers for a living.”

“And I still have better hand-eye coordination than Jay.”

“Hey!” Jay protests from his seat, a fry halfway to his mouth. “Unnecessary.” Sunghoon picks up his bowling ball- matte black, naturally, because of course he’d pick the most intimidating one, and lines up his shot. You lean over to Wonyoung as he takes his stance. “Ten bucks says he slips.”

“No bet,” she whispers. “He’s definitely slipping.” He doesn’t. The ball sails down the lane like it was born to. Not quite a strike, but a noble nine. Still, he spins around with that smug little smirk that makes you want to punch and kiss him at the same time.

“I’m waiting,” he says, arms out.

“For what?”

“My praise.” You cock an eyebrow, grabbing your own ball, a bright lilac with sparkles, completely your vibe. “You’ll get it when you earn it.”

“Oh, it’s like that?” He teased. You give him a grin over your shoulder as you walk to the lane. “It’s always like that.” Your throw goes a little off. You get five pins and one tragically rogue ball but you raise your arms like you just conquered Everest anyway. Jay and Wonyoung cheer you on, loud and dramatic, and you blow a kiss in their direction before sliding back into the booth beside Sunghoon. He passes you a soda, his fingers brushing yours, and leans in close enough that your shoulders touch. “You’re terrible at this.”

“And yet, I still look amazing doing it.” He smirks, his voice low. “That’s true.” You nudge his shoulder with yours. “You’re flirting.”

“You make it easy.”

The game winds on like that, playful insults and bad technique, shared bites of fries, the occasional high-five that turns into hand-holding when no one’s looking. Wonyoung sings along too loudly to every song that comes on. Jay takes the bowling way too seriously and actually tries to calculate his win percentage. Sunghoon teases everyone and somehow still ends up doing the scoreboard. But more than that- it’s easy. It’s fun. The kind of fun that fills your chest like helium and makes your laugh louder, your smile wider. The kind of fun that doesn’t ask for anything in return. There’s a moment, near the end of the night, when you catch Sunghoon looking at you, really looking. His head tilted, mouth soft, eyes full of something that makes your whole soul ache.

He doesn’t say anything. Just reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And maybe now… it is. You lean into his side, just a little, and let the night wrap around you like a warm, flickering blanket. Neon lights, greasy food, too-loud laughter. All of it stitched with something golden and glowing. It isn’t perfect. But it’s yours. And right now, that’s more than enough.

The ice rink is quieter than you expected, nestled between city buildings like a secret. The lights above the ice are dim and golden, soft like early morning sun through lace curtains. There are just a few people gliding across the surface, laughter echoing like bells in the cold air, the kind of sound that makes your chest ache in the best way. You tug your scarf tighter, breath fogging the air in front of you. “You’re really serious about this?” you ask, eyeing the ice with no small amount of suspicion.

Sunghoon just grins, crouched down to lace up his skates like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Dead serious.”

“I’ve never done this before,” you warn. “I know,” he says, standing up with a grace that makes your stomach flip. He’s already taller than you, but on skates he looks like something carved out of winter. Long lines and quiet confidence, something familiar and dazzling all at once. You wobble when you stand, arms flailing until he catches you. His hands find your waist, steady and warm, and you glare at him, breathless.

“This was your plan all along,” you mutter. “To watch me fall on my ass.” He leans in close, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe. But I’ll catch you every time.” Your heart doesn’t know how to handle that, so you look away. The first few minutes are exactly as humiliating as you expected. You cling to the railing like it’s a lifeline, feet sliding in every direction. Sunghoon skates backward in front of you with ridiculous ease, hands out like he’s luring a stray cat.

“Come on,” he says, voice gentle. “Just one step.”

“I am stepping! I’m also dying.”

“You’re not dying.”

“I could be.” He laughs, the kind of laugh that hits you in the ribs, bright and full of something that feels like home. He skates up beside you, takes your hand in his without asking. “I’ve got you,” he says. “Always.” Somehow, you believe him. With him guiding you, it gets easier. Your legs stop shaking so much. Your fingers don’t cling as tightly. He teaches you how to glide, how to bend your knees, how to fall safely, which you do, spectacularly, three times in a row. But he never lets go. Not once.

And when you’re finally coasting across the rink on your own - a little wobbly, a little wild, but free, he cheers for you like you’ve just won gold. You laugh until your cheeks hurt. “Okay,” you say, breathless. “How are you this good at skating?”

He shrugs, suddenly shy. “I used to want to be a figure skater when I was a kid.”

Your eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’d watch competitions on TV and try to copy the spins in my kitchen.” He glances down at the ice, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It felt like flying.” You skate closer to him, heart aching at the softness in his voice. “Why didn’t you keep doing it?”

He looks up, and there’s something a little broken in his smile. “My parents didn’t think it was practical. I let it go.” You reach for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not. Not anymore. I still skate sometimes, on nights when I can’t sleep. It reminds me of who I was before the world got too loud.” The air between you shimmers, cold but not empty. Full of things unspoken, things that have been building since the moment you met him. It’s in the way he looks at you now, eyes wide and vulnerable, like he’s waiting for something he’s not sure he deserves. And maybe… maybe you’re ready to give it.

You skate backward a little, still holding his hand. “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” It’s a whisper, but it echoes louder than anything else. The kind of truth that makes the world slow down. His eyes go wide. He stops moving.

“I didn’t mean to,” you say quickly, breath shaking. “I didn’t plan it. But somewhere between fighting with you and falling on my face, I—” Your voice catches. “I just did. And I know we said we’d take it slow, but I'm ready, this is it for me, You are.” For a moment, the only sound is the scrape of skates on ice and your heart beating like it’s trying to break out of your chest. Then he steps toward you.

“Say it again,” he whispers. Your throat tightens. “I love you.” And then he’s kissing you, right there on the ice, hands on your face, lips cold and sweet and desperate. The kiss is slow but trembling, like the both of you are trying not to fall apart, trying to hold onto the feeling as long as you can. When he pulls back, his voice is rough and full of awe.

“I love you too.” Your breath catches. “I didn’t want to,” he admits. “I was so scared to let this become real. But it did. And I’m not going to pretend it didn’t.”

You smile, eyes stinging. “So what does this mean?” He presses his forehead to yours. “It means we’re official. As of right now.”

Your laughter turns into a sob halfway through, and he kisses it away, holding you in the middle of the ice like the world has narrowed down to just this. Just you and him and this quiet, golden moment where everything feels right. When the lights begin to dim for closing time, he skates you one last circle around the rink, holding your hand the whole time. And in that frozen orbit, beneath stars too distant to touch, you fall in love all over again.

That night Sunghoon takes his time with you, soaking in the smell and feel of your skin against his. It’s not hard and rough like you’re used to, it’s soft like the pillowy feeling of being on cloud nine. It was tender and it made you alight with pure happiness. You had not known happiness like this for such a long time. You were beginning to feel like he was sent to you. That your grandmother knew you needed someone to fill her void.

And Sunghoon didn't just fill that void, he lit it ablaze, lighting a candle inside of you and setting your heart on fire with need for him. Not just sexually but spiritually.

Sunghoon whispered soft and quiet i love you’s against your skin as you sat atop him, connected as one. He held your hand as he slowly pushed into you over and over again. He drank in your moans while simultaneously spilling his own. This was love, and it did not hurt this time. It felt good. You were high on this love, addicted to the rush, and you never wanted to let that go.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He breathed against your ear, his breath harsh. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“So-good.” You whined, legs to your chest as Sunghoon took his time with you, reaching unbelievable places inside of you. “Don’t stop-” Tears welled in your eyes threatening to spill over. “Please don’t-”

“Never.” He cooed. Sunghoon sank his face down to yours, kissing at the apples of your cheeks and whisking away the tears falling from your eyes. “I’ll never stop loving you.” Your sob rang through the room, along with the sound of his skin hitting yours. But it was not a sob of sadness, you did not cry of despair. The emotions coursing through you were simply too heavy, too much. It catapulted you to your already awaiting orgasm. It ripped through you like a storm, creating chaos in your mind. You welcomed it.

Sunghoon followed suit. His head tipped back, eyes screwed shut and lips slightly agape. He was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. Even more so than the day you first met him, staring up at him with wide eyes on that dirty sidewalk. This was it, he was it.

The next few weeks continued to pass by in a blur. Days in the office no longer felt long. You, Sunghoon, Wonyoung and Jay became a proper team creating the most perfect cover that Suyu could not even hate if she tried. It was the perfect mesh of everything her and her other members claimed to want. You don’t know if you were saying this out of bias or not but it looked pretty damn perfect to you.

“Knowing Suyu, she’ll find something to hate about it.” Wonyoung says with the roll of her eyes, two afternoons before the big presentation is supposed to happen. “That girl is never happy.”

“She’ll only be happy if Sunghoon agrees to go on a date with.” Jay snorts from his end of the table in the very big conference room the four of you occupied. You’ve decided to ditch the cubicles and work in conference rooms together for my cohesion. It seemed it was working in your favor.

“Not happening.” Sunghoon said, typing away, not even looking up. You snort a little laugh, shaking your head. “Over my dead body.”

“Rawr, Y/N” Wonyoung snickered. “Didn’t know you were so possessive.” Your cheeks heat in slight embarrassment looking down at your paper to hide away from their prying eyes.

“It’s hot.” Sunghoon mused, your head shot up, shocked at his open candor. Although Jay and Wonyoung were very much aware of your relationship, Sunghoon tended to keep the PDA away from the office. Sunghoon sent a knowing smirk your way. A way to tell you he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he liked it.

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic Park Sunghoon.” You flirted back sending him a small smile that you knew would drive him absolutely mad.

“for you i’d be anything baby.” Wonyoung’s grunt of disgust broke the flirting fest the two of you were having.

“Spare us all.” She complained, but still there was a small smirk on her face. One that said she really wasn’t all that bothered by the two of you. She loved it.

You laugh, light and airy like you felt in that moment. “Like you and Jay aren’t always on top of eachother all the time.”

“We do n-”

“Yes, we do.” Jay interrupts before she could utter another word. “I don’t mind, they’re in love. Let them flirt, Won.”

“Yeah..” Sunghoon trails. His eyes on yours “We are.”

The morning of the presentation rises with a golden hush, sunlight sifting through your curtains like powdered gold. It spills over the sheets, over his bare back, tracing the ridges of muscle and the delicate rise and fall of his breath. The room smells like skin and sleep, like warmth you’ve grown used to waking beside. Sunghoon stirs, eyes fluttering open, and he finds you already looking at him. His lips curl into a sleepy smile. “You watching me again?”

“Always,” you whisper, your voice still threaded with dreams. He reaches out and pulls you into him, your legs tangling effortlessly. There’s a peacefulness to it, a kind of calm you didn’t think you’d ever get to have. You don’t speak for a while. Just lie there, breathing together in sync, the calm before the storm. The presentation is in a few hours, the culmination of months of ideas and revisions, of whispered meetings and sparks behind locked office doors. But none of that matters right now not when he kisses your shoulder like he’s promising you forever in silence.

The world tilts.

Your breath catches. Your eyes glaze. And the room falls away in one cruel sweep. In its place is sterile white. Bright, blinding. The kind of light that doesn’t bring warmth, only fear. You’re standing in a hospital corridor, the walls humming with fluorescent dread. Nurses rush past you, voices sharp and clipped. And then you see him. Sunghoon. But not the Sunghoon you know. Not the one who smiles like sin and kisses like salvation. He’s lying on a hospital bed, still as stone, wires snaking from his chest, from his arms, from his scalp. Machines beep in jagged rhythms, cruel little lullabies counting down to something inevitable.

He looks pale. Hollow.

Dead.

A doctor turns to the others. “We’re losing him. There’s not much time—”

“No,” you breathe. “No, no—” You stumble forward in the vision, chest aching with a pain too big for your ribs. You’re screaming his name but no one hears you. It’s like you’re not even there. You reach for him, desperate to hold his hand, to shake him awake, to do something. But then like a gunshot to the head- darkness.

You’re yanked back into the present like a diver breaking the surface after too long underwater. Your lungs seize. Your body jolts. You sit upright in bed, heart galloping against your ribs like it’s trying to escape. “Y/n?” Sunghoon is already up, panic etched into every line of his face. “Hey—what happened?” You blink at him, throat raw. Your hands are shaking. Your mouth opens, then closes. What was that?

You clutch the sheet around you, the image of him lying on that bed seared into your memory like a brand. You can still hear the flatline in your ears. “Talk to me,” he pleads, scooting closer, brushing the hair from your damp forehead. “You’re scaring me.” But you can’t find the words. You don’t even know what this means. All you know is that it felt too real. Too visceral. Like a ghost of a future that hasn’t yet happened. And you’d never felt fear like that. Not even when you lost your grandmother. Not even when your father died without goodbye. Because this was Sunghoon. And he was gone in your arms. “I’m okay,” you lie, voice shredded. “I just—bad dream.”

He pulls you into his chest, wraps his arms around you like a shield. “It’s over now,” he murmurs. “I’m right here.” And you let yourself believe him. Just for a second. But the image won’t leave you. Not even when you get dressed. Not even when you walk into the boardroom hours later, hand in hand, presenting your final vision to an audience of executives and strangers. Not even when you see the pride in his eyes as he watches you speak, like you’ve somehow always belonged to this exact moment. Because beneath the suit, beneath the smile, beneath everything he is, there’s still that hospital bed, cold and waiting. And you?

You’re terrified that someday, somehow, it won’t be a dream. You shallow your breath, allowing yourself to fall back into the resolve the Sunghoon was giving you. “I’m sorry.” You say.

“Don't be sorry, baby.” Sunghoon plants a small kiss to the side of your head. “Do you want to talk about it?” But you shake your head no. This was the morning of a very important presentation. You can’t allow something like a vision..or a dream? To break your balance.

Sunghoon decides on taking a shower together and you can honestly say it was the best idea he's had all morning. Letting the warmth of the shower water fall over you like a security blanket did good for your quaking anxiety. The two of you savored your time together before it was time for what was no doubt going to be a stressful presentation.

The conference room gleams with sterile promise, all white walls, steel accents, and the flicker of rain pressing hard against the windows like it’s trying to get in, trying to drown the whole day in gray. The storm has soaked the city in gloom, made the roads reflective, the sky a bruise. It’s the kind of weather that clings to your clothes, your hair, your spirit. Still, you sit tall. You're perched at the long, lacquered table beside Sunghoon, Wonyoung and Jay across from you. The CEO sits at the head, aloof and unreadable, surrounded by a few of Suyu’s management staff. The mood is already tense, the kind of tight that makes every throat clear feel like a bullet ricochet. You're clutching the presentation clicker like a lifeline.

And then she arrives. Suyu steps into the room like she owns every inch of it, her heels tapping with the arrogance of someone used to the world bowing before her. She’s wrapped in designer spite — sunglasses still on despite the indoor lighting, lips already pursed in disdain. Her team trails behind her like shadows, but she commands the storm all on her own. “Sorry I’m late,” she says without sounding remotely sorry. She doesn’t offer a reason. Doesn’t need to. She knows no one here would dare call her out. Her gaze flickers across the room, then lands on you. And stays there.

A slow, venomous smile curves her mouth. You know that look. You’ve seen it on girls in high school, in boardrooms, in battlefields dressed as brunch tables, the kind that hides a knife behind lip gloss. But you refuse to flinch. You return the smile, polite, professional. Determined. Even if your stomach is already turning. Even if you know something isn’t right. Because before the meeting, as you and Sunghoon stood tucked in a corner hallway, nerves vibrating between you, he kissed you. Not a small, fleeting thing but a real kiss. A grounding, you-got-this kind of kiss. You thought you were alone. You weren’t. Suyu had seen it.

You caught the flicker of her figure at the edge of your vision as you pulled away, the flash of her hair like a flag of warning disappearing around the corner. But she didn’t say anything then. She’s saying it now, in the set of her mouth. In the storm behind her eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” she drawls, sliding into her seat.

You rise. Your voice is steady. You begin to speak. You talk about the concept, the vision, the artistry, the story you built with your bare hands. The cover design, sleek and dreamlike, a blend of sharp femininity and rebellious edge. You talk about the themes you studied from her past work, the ways you’ve tried to elevate her image without losing what made her iconic. You worked your soul into this.

Halfway through your explanation, Suyu starts to scoff. Loudly. You ignore it. Keep going. Then she interrupts. “I’m sorry, are we seriously pretending this is good?” The room stills. Your mouth goes dry. “I mean, really?” she sneers, crossing her arms. “This looks like something a design intern from a knockoff fashion school would make after drinking two energy drinks and crying over her ex.” Your hands grip the edge of the table. Wonyoung’s eyes flash in defense, but she stays silent. Jay’s jaw tightens. Sunghoon doesn’t move.

“I wanted fierce. I wanted iconic,” Suyu continues. “Not this sad, watered-down Tumblr board with delusions of grandeur.” You swallow. “I can explain the—”

“Oh, please don’t. You’ve explained enough. I don’t need to be walked through mediocrity.” A flicker of laughter comes from someone on her team. And it hurts. But not as much as when the CEO leans forward and says, “She’s not entirely wrong. This doesn’t feel aligned with Suyu’s brand.” Your breath catches. Your fingers shake around the clicker. You turn to Sunghoon, desperate for something. A word. A hand. A glance. Something to say you’re not alone. He sighs. The hurt had only started to seep into your bones when sunghoon nodded, a simple nod of agreement was what tore your heart in half. Yanking it from your body and smashing it to pieces on the floor in front of you. “I told you we should’ve gone with the second mock-up,” he says. “This one doesn’t hit the mark.”

It’s not just the words. It’s the casualness of them. Like you’re not standing there bleeding. Your heart tears clean in two. You stare at him. Unblinking. Unmoving. The man who once said he loved you while holding your hand in the snow now sits there like you’re just another person in the room. A stranger he happens to know. Suyu’s smile curls. “Maybe you should stick to something you’re actually good at,” she says sweetly, eyes flicking between you and Sunghoon. “Like kissing your boss in public hallways. That seemed more in your lane.” And there it is. The dagger, Slammed into your chest and twisted with precision.

Wonyoung rises to her feet. “That’s enough.” But it’s not. It’s far from enough. You don’t cry. You don’t scream. You gather your notes. You click the laptop shut. And then you speak. “Thank you for the feedback,” you say. “I’ll revise the design.” Your voice is steady. Your hands are not. The storm outside begins to weep harder against the glass, like the sky is mourning with you. You turn without another word, walking out with the sound of your name left echoing in Sunghoon’s throat — unheard, too late. And somewhere in the distance, a red string frays.

You were humiliated, destroyed, disgusted. How dare he. How fucking dare he. You had all agreed on the design, all. You had all worked tirelessly on the cover for months now. It was not just you. Sunghoon had warned you that you were their scapegoat but to not even defend you when you were being torn in half? Not even an ounce of accountability. How fucking dare he. You were livid, you couldn’t even see straight as your eyes blurred with tears threatening to spill.

You don’t remember running. You only remember the sound your heels make against the marble floors- sharp, frantic, echoing behind you like a second heartbeat. Like guilt chasing your ankles. Like shame trying to wrap its claws around your throat. The doors burst open, and the cold hits you like a slap. The sky is sobbing. Fat, angry raindrops fall in sheets, soaking through your blouse, your skin, your bones. It’s as if the universe itself has decided to mourn your dignity.

You don't have an umbrella. You don’t care. You just run. Your breaths come out in ragged, uneven stutters. You can’t stop seeing their faces. Suyu’s cruel smirk, the board’s blank indifference, and worst of all- his. Sunghoon. Sitting there. Saying nothing. Letting it happen. His silence was louder than any insult they could have thrown. A betrayal more cutting than any blade.“I told you we should’ve gone with the second mock-up.”

He might as well have said, I don’t believe in you. I never did.

The words keep replaying, rewinding, looping until they stitch themselves into the lining of your chest. You make it to the sidewalk, the rain pounding harder, your tears indistinguishable from the storm. Your fingers tremble as you wrap your arms around yourself, like maybe you can hold the pieces of your heart in place before they fall entirely apart. But then- A hand on your wrist. Firm. Familiar. “Y/N—please,” Sunghoon’s voice cracks through the rain, desperate, raw. “Just wait—listen to me.”

You spin around, water dripping down your cheeks, your hair plastered to your face. “Why? So you can say I told you so again? So you can throw me under the bus a second time? Was watching them humiliate me not enough for you?!” His mouth opens. Closes. He looks like he’s been punched. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t lie to me,” you whisper, voice trembling. “Not now. Not after everything.” You try to pull away but he doesn’t let go. And that’s when it happens. The world vanishes. Time fractures. You’re no longer in the rain. You’re back there.

Bright lights. White walls. The cold sterility of a hospital room seeping into your bones. You’re on your knees. Screaming. Doctors surround a still body on a bed. Tubes. Wires. The sound of machines flatlining. Your voice is raw with anguish. You’re clawing at someone—anyone—begging, pleading.

“Please—no—don’t—_bring him back, please—_he can’t be gone—he can’t be—” And then the words you will never forget: “Time of death—7:46 PM.” You hear them like a bell tolling inside your ribcage, like a countdown to the end of the world. You watch Sunghoon’s chest stilled beneath the sheet. You see your own face; twisted with disbelief, with agony, with a kind of grief that doesn’t come from this world.

Your voice breaks through the flashback, one last scream: “SUNGHOON—!” And then you’re back—but barely. The rain is still falling, and his hand is still wrapped around your wrist. You look down at it like it’s the thing that killed you. And with a sharp, guttural sob, you yank it away. Like his hand was on fire and you were burning, burning from the rage and the humiliation and from your breaking point. A breaking point that was bound to come.

You were a ticking time bomb of emotions, you missed your grandmother, you missed the comfort of your red bracelet, funny enough you missed your parents and the father you never got the chance to say goodbye to, that too stolen from you.

You miss the childhood you never had, one filled with love and reassurance. One where you didnt feel like a burden but like a gift. You hated that this was your life, that you were always second best even in the most mundane of places.

“Don’t touch me!” you cry, voice shattering. “Don’t ever touch me again!” He stares at you, completely soaked, completely stunned. “Y/N—what—what just happened—” But you’re already stumbling backward. Away. From him. From the pain. From whatever this is turning into.

You bolt into the street, blind with heartbreak, with fury, with something you don’t even have a name for. And behind you; his voice. Desperate. Terrified. “Y/N—watch out—!” You turn too late. A flash of headlights. A screech. Then- Nothing.Just blackness, folding you in like a final breath. And the rain keeps falling, like the sky is crying for both of you.

The first thing you feel is the weight. Heavy, like you’ve been asleep for centuries. Your body is lead, your limbs sunken deep into stiff hospital sheets that smell like bleach and absence. Your mouth is dry. Your head aches. Your skin is sore, like the bruises haven’t bloomed yet but are waiting, just beneath the surface. The beeping of a heart monitor slices through the fog. You open your eyes.

The ceiling is too white. The light overhead buzzes with the subtle hum of sterility. You turn your head, slowly like moving through water and see the pale curtain that separates your bed from the rest of the world. It stirs slightly from the hum of an unseen vent, like a ghost brushing its fingers against your reality. You glance down at your wrist. Your breath catches in your throat. There it is. The red string.

Thin, delicate, impossibly bright in the sterile light. Wound gently around your wrist like it never left. Like it belonged there all along. You sit up too quickly, dizziness punches the edge of your vision, but you push through it, heart hammering in your chest like a trapped thing. You look out the window. Grey clouds churn like smoke against the sky. Rain clings to the glass in streaks, as if the world has been weeping without you. You press the call button. A nurse rushes in, kind eyes and a clipboard clutched to her chest. “You’re awake,” she breathes, a smile blooming like dawn. “Thank God. You’ve been out a while.”

“You were in an accident. You’re going to be okay.” You blink. A car. That’s right. The street. The rain. Sunghoon. “What day is it?” you ask, and your voice trembles because something in your chest is already breaking. The nurse glances at the chart. “April third.” The words punch the breath from your lungs. “…What year?” you manage. “2024.”

You swallow, heart thundering like it’s trying to run from your chest. “That’s not possible.”

But she only smiles gently, like she thinks you’re confused. Like she’s seen this before. “Don’t worry, honey. Just rest. You’ll feel more like yourself tomorrow.” But you’re not even sure who you are. Because this is before. This is before everything. Before the journals. Before the office. Before Sunghoon. It’s the day of the accident. The first time. You stare down at the red thread on your wrist like it holds the answer to the unraveling of time itself. You twist it gently between your fingers, like maybe if you touch it long enough, you’ll remember how to breathe.

You don’t know what kind of trick the universe is playing. You don’t know why it’s giving you another beginning. But your heart already knows one thing for sure. Somehow, somewhere; Sunghoon exists. He has to. Your chest heaves with the weight of it, lungs tight with questions that have no place in this timeline. That hospital light is still buzzing above, casting everything in a strange half-glow, like you're caught in the moment between lightning and thunder waiting for something to strike. The red string clings to your wrist like it never left. Like it knew.

“Was there… was there a man?” you ask suddenly, voice raw, broken from something older than your waking. The nurse looks up from the monitor she’s checking. “A man?”

“Was he hit, too?” You sit straighter in the bed despite the protest of your bruised ribs, your fingers clutching the blanket like it's the only thing keeping you tethered. “Outside. In the rain. I— I remember him.” The nurse hesitates, then softens. “Yes… there was someone else. A young man. He pushed you out of the way before the car hit.”

Your mouth falls open, lips parting like they’re trying to catch a breath that won’t come. “What—what does he look like?” She sighs gently, like she’s already replayed this conversation in her mind. “Tall. Dark hair. Pale skin. He had a bracelet, I think. Something red around his wrist.” You nearly choke on your breath. “Park Sunghoon?” The name escapes your lips like a prayer and a curse all at once.

The nurse freezes. Then she nods. You can't speak. He’s here. He was real. Not just a dream, not just a creation of grief and longing- he’s real. And he saved you before he even knew your name. “Can I see him?” you whisper, barely audible. “Please. I need to see him.”

It takes time. Paperwork. Permission. A quiet nod from someone behind the desk. Then the wheels of your bed begin to move, and the world around you shifts as they push you down the too-bright hallway, every fluorescent light a drumbeat in your chest. You don’t know what you expect when they wheel you into the room, but it isn’t this. Sunghoon lies still beneath pale blue sheets. Monitors blink softly at his side, IV lines like threads of spun glass winding into the curve of his wrist. He looks too still. Too quiet. His skin is waxen, the color of snowclouds. His lashes fan over cheeks that hold no warmth. He could be sleeping- but the stillness has a weight to it. The kind that feels like silence after music has died.

“They’re not sure if he’ll wake up,” the nurse murmurs, lingering near the door. “His brain took the worst of it.” You nod once, wooden. Silent. Then the door clicks shut behind her. You are alone with him. And he doesn't know you. You pull your blanket closer around your shoulders, trying to hold in the warmth that suddenly seeps out of you like mist. You wheel yourself closer to his bedside, trembling fingers reaching out- but not quite touching.

“You don’t know me,” you whisper. The words slice your throat on the way out. “You don’t know my name. You don’t know the way I laugh when I’m nervous, or how I cry when someone talks about their grandmother.” You laugh, a hollow thing. “You don’t know that I drink tea when I’m anxious, or that I never learned to whistle.” Your eyes burn. “I know that you hated my first cover design. I know that you have a terrible poker face and that you secretly adore puns even though you pretend not to. I know that you’re stubborn and serious and kind in the quietest, most impossible ways.”

“But I also know that none of that’s happened yet. Not here. Not in this version of us.” The red thread lies between you both, as if waiting. “He saved me,” you say aloud, voice crumbling like old paper. “Before he ever knew me.” You reach forward, gently resting your hand over his; cool, unmoving. “I don’t know why this is happening. Why the universe spun the clock backward. But if it brought me here to find you again…”

You lean closer, forehead nearly brushing the edge of his bed. “…Then I’ll wait. I’ll find a way to make you fall in love with me again. Even if I have to start all over. Even if it takes years. Even if you never remember a single moment.” Your voice breaks on the last word. You sit there in silence, the storm outside casting shadows across the floor. And somewhere, deep beneath the machines and the stillness- You think he might squeeze your hand. Just barely.

It’s only when the stillness settles, soft and cold as snowfall, that you notice it, his wrist. Peeking out from beneath the hospital blanket, slack and pale in the hush of machines, lies a single braided thread. Red as pomegranate wine. Frayed at the edge, worn, but unmistakable. Your eyes widen. Your breath stalls. It’s the same. The same bracelet. The same shade, the same knot, the same tiny bead like a drop of dried blood tucked between the threads. He still has it on. Your hand trembles as you lift your own wrist, laying it beside his on the edge of the bed. The two strings look like they’ve been waiting all this time, twin threads from different cloths, now side by side, humming quietly in the silence of the room.

It steals the air from your lungs. The stories your grandmother whispered flicker to life behind your eyes. The red string never breaks. Even when cut, it finds its way back. You’d doubted it- how could you not? After everything. After losing him. After watching him disappear in that final flash of memory and headlights. But now? Now the thread lies between you, unmistakable and real.

And then he breathes. A gasp. Wet and sudden. You jolt back in shock, eyes darting to his face as his chest rises in a shallow breath, then another. His lashes flutter. His lips part. He’s waking up. He’s waking up and you don’t exist to him here. Your heart stutters, cracking open like thin ice under too much weight. You scramble up from the chair, nearly knocking it over in your rush. “I—I’m sorry. I got the wrong room. I’ll get the doctor—” But before you can turn to flee, before your fingers even brush the call button-

“…Y/n?” It’s so soft you almost miss it. A breath more than a word. A tremble more than a voice. But it’s your name. You freeze, eyes wide, back still turned. “…Y/n,” he says again, a little stronger this time, as if drawing your name up from some hidden place in his bones. You turn slowly, not daring to believe. His eyes are open now, barely, but they’re there. Dark and dazed and clumsy with pain. He’s looking at you like you’re a dream crawling out of the dark. Like he doesn’t know what’s real and what’s just memory, but you- you, he remembers. “How…?” you whisper, barely able to breathe.

His lips twitch into something like a smile. Weak. Trembling. “Your voice,” he murmurs. “I knew it.”

You stumble back toward his bed, tears burning down your cheeks like fire. “You… remember?”

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “Not all of it. Just pieces. Feelings. I saw you before I woke up. I felt… like I lost you.” Your hands clutch at the blanket, at your own chest, trying to keep yourself together as your heart swells to fill every broken place. “I thought you wouldn’t know me,” you say through a sob. “I thought I’d have to find you again. Start all over. Make you fall in love with me a second time.”

He blinks slowly, exhaustion drawing shadows under his eyes. But his fingers twitch, reaching weakly toward you. “You already did,” he says. “In every version of this world… I think I would love you.”

You sit beside him, hand trembling as it hovers over his. The machines beep quietly, like lullabies sung in code, and outside the clouds churn, endless shades of grey bruising the morning light. But none of it touches you. Not really. Because Sunghoon is awake, and he remembers you. Even though he shouldn’t. Even though this is a time before he should know your name, before your first meeting was ever supposed to happen. Still, he looks at you like you are a story he’s read a thousand times, and only now understands the ending. He turns his wrist slowly, eyes drifting down to the red bracelet wrapped around yours.

“It was always you,” he murmurs, voice soft and unsteady. “Even before I knew it.” You inhale shakily, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “How?” you whisper. “How do you remember me?” His gaze lifts, lashes damp from pain and memory.

“I had dreams,” he says. “Or… I thought they were dreams. Every time I touched you—I’d see something. Sometimes it was nothing more than a flicker. A flash. You smiling under golden light. A hallway I didn’t recognize. Your voice calling my name in the dark.” He closes his eyes briefly, breath hitching. “But then… every time I touched you, it got stronger. Clearer. And near the end—I saw you dying. I saw you bleeding and screaming and I couldn’t reach you. I’d wake up choking. I didn’t understand why.”

Your fingers clutch at the sheet. “In mine,” you whisper, “you were the one dying.” His eyes flutter open again, searching your face. “You had the red string. I never did. Not in the dreams.”

A beat. And then another. The air between you crackles with something ancient. Something bigger than time “The string connected to you,” he says, voice thick. “I think it was showing your side. Like the dreams were through my eyes, but your pain. Your memories.” You stare down at the bracelets—his, tucked beneath pale hospital linen. Yours, worn and dulled but still whole. And then the truth falls between you, like a thread slipping back into the eye of the needle. “We’re soul ties,” you say, the words trembling out of you. “Not just lovers. Not just fate. We’re pieces of each other.”

Sunghoon swallows. “The string wasn’t just some story, was it?” You shake your head, heart pulsing against your ribs like a caged thing. “No. Our grandparents… they had this once too. My grandmother told me stories. She loved a man she could never be with. She said the string would return—find its way through generations if it had to.”

His eyes shine. “My grandfather gave me this bracelet before he passed. Said it was for ‘when the thread comes back.’ I thought he was being poetic.” You let out a soft, broken laugh. “Mine told me the same.” And for a moment, you are quiet together. Wrapped in this wild, impossible truth. A love so old it circled back. A thread so stubborn it refused to break. Worn by your grandparents. Given to you.

Soul ties. Lovers across lifetimes. The one that got away, born again in a heartbeat and a car crash. “I’m sorry I ever doubted it,” you say, tears slipping down your cheeks. Sunghoon smiles weakly, thumb brushing your wrist. “I’m not. I think we needed to doubt it. To fight it. So that when we stopped… we knew it was real.”

And suddenly the pain of the past doesn't feel like a punishment anymore. It feels like a bridge. A path winding through lifetimes, across heartbreak and death and fate bending back on itself like a red thread pulled tight. You reach for his hand, fingers sliding into his gently. The bracelets touch. The strings align. “I love you,” you whisper, for the first time in this life with your whole soul behind it.

The red string of fate had brought the two of you together, in something so magical and true. More magical than your grandmother had ever described before. Something you wished she

would have gotten to feel at a scale that you did, in this very moment with sunghoon.

Epilogue

One year later

The sky is soft that morning draped in cotton grey and trimmed with streaks of early gold. The kind of sky that doesn’t need to dazzle to feel holy. The kind your grandmother used to call a good omen. You stand outside the little toy shop at the corner of the old neighborhood. It’s quiet, the shutters half-open, a chime ringing as you step inside. The air smells like sawdust and lavender, memories and beginnings.

It took time to get here, months of healing, of relearning how to breathe without bracing for grief, of sorting through boxes and stories and broken pieces of the past. You and Sunghoon didn’t rush. You stitched yourselves back together gently, one soft moment at a time. The shop isn’t just your parents’ anymore. It’s yours. It’s new. It’s old. It’s both. Just like your love. Sunghoon’s laughter echoes from the back room, followed by a thud and a quiet curse. You smile, setting the "Grand Reopening" sign in the window.

He appears a moment later, hair tousled and cheeks pink from effort, holding a tiny wind-up ballerina in one hand. “She spins like you when you’re tipsy,” he grins. You roll your eyes. “So, gracefully?”

“Sure,” he teases. “Let’s go with that.” You take it from him and place it on the shelf, right beside a row of handmade music boxes you designed together. There’s a rhythm in everything now. A shared breath. A new life. Wonyoung and Jay come by in the afternoon, arms full of flowers and cake. The four of you spend the day laughing, telling stories, pretending not to see the way Jay looks at Wonyoung when she’s not looking.

Later, after the lights are off and the door is locked behind you, you and Sunghoon walk home under a sky that has cleared into starlight. The city sleeps around you, but your hearts are wide awake. Fingers intertwined, you glance down at the bracelets on your wrists. Still there. Still unbroken The red string doesn’t glow. It doesn’t hum. It simply exists. A quiet truth. A promise kept across time. Sunghoon squeezes your hand. “What do you think our grandparents would say?”

You smile. “That we finally got it right.” And with that, you lean into him, the night folding around you both like a story ending in its rightful place. A love lost once. Returned again. And this time- held tight enough to never let go. Every now and again, Sunghoon would whisper “In every walk of life I will love you.” You knew in your entire body and soul that that was true.

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sshnzsr · 6 days ago

Text

under the table

wc: 2k | semi-public sex, mentions of porn, oral (m), unprotected sex, p in v, mentions of strict parents, dirty talk, getting caught

You grew up in a super strict family. Your parents wouldn’t let you go anywhere without them, except school. You couldn’t have friends unless your family knew them, and boyfriends? Forget it. No boys were allowed near you, not even as best friends. The only exception was Sunghoon, the son of your mom’s best friend. He was the one boy you were allowed to hang out with.

When you were kids, you and Sunghoon got along great. He was your only friend, and you didn’t mind. But as you got older, you started noticing how he’d stare at you—not just at your face, but at your body. His eyes lingered on your chest, your legs, places that made your stomach twist. Your mom had always said, “If a boy looks at you like that, tell me right away and stay away from him.” But with Sunghoon, you couldn’t. He was all you had.

Your mom taught you everything early. About sex, how porn was fake and gross, how boys could be selfish and dangerous if they didn’t use protection. She made it sound scary, like something to avoid at all costs. And Sunghoon? He was exactly the kind of guy she warned you about. He’d tell you about the latest porn videos he watched, brag about how many girls he’d slept with—without condoms—and act like it made him cool. He’d tease you all the time, making dirty jokes that left you blushing and annoyed.

One day, you were alone in the school library, sitting at a desk with a book in one hand and your favorite cherry lollipop in the other. The place was empty, quiet, just how you liked it. You didn’t hear Sunghoon sneak up until he was right beside you. Before you could react, he snatched the lollipop from your mouth and popped it into his.

“Gross!” you shouted, scrunching your face in disgust.

“Tastes good,” he said with a smirk. “What flavor is it? Wait, let me guess—” He started to say something crude, but you didn’t let him finish. You hit him hard in the crotch.

“Deserved that, you perv,” you snapped as he groaned and dropped the lollipop on the table.

“You little… ugh,” he muttered, clutching himself. Then he laughed, that stupid evil grin spreading across his face. “Bet your mom would be so mad if she knew you were kicking guys in the balls.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbed the lollipop, and stuck it back in your mouth. The sweet cherry taste flooded your senses, calming you down. But Sunghoon didn’t look away. He stared at your lips, biting his own, his eyes dark.

“You look so hot sucking that lollipop,” he said, voice low. “Bet you’d look even hotter sucking my dick.”

You choked, yanking the lollipop out of your mouth. “Stop it,” you whined, standing up to leave.

He grinned wider. “You want to. Don’t pretend. I saw those porn tabs on your laptop. You act all innocent for your mom, but you’re dying for me to ruin you.”

“I—I was just curious,” you stammered, cheeks burning. “I didn’t even enjoy it.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything at first. He just stepped closer, grabbed your jaw gently, and leaned in. “Let me show you it’s not gross,” he whispered. “It’s normal, Y/N. You don’t have to feel bad for wanting it.”

“Don’t tell anyone…” you mumbled, heart racing as you leaned in too. You’d never kissed anyone before, but you pressed your lips to his, soft and unsure. He took over, kissing you slow and sweet—not rushed or sloppy like the stuff you’d seen online. It felt… nice.

When you pulled back, you smiled a little. “Can I just… suck your dick for today?” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

Before you knew it, you were under the library table, tugging his pants down. It felt wrong, sneaky, like you could get caught any second. His dick sprang free, hard and warm in your hand. You hesitated, then wrapped your fingers around it, feeling its weight. You brought it to your lips, tasting him as you slid the tip into your mouth. It was salty, strange, but not bad. You moved slow at first, sucking lightly, your tongue swirling around the head. Sunghoon groaned above you, his hand gripping the edge of the table.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he muttered, voice tight. “Keep going.”

You took him deeper, your lips stretching around him, spit dripping down your chin. You gagged a little as he hit the back of your throat, but it only made you want to try harder. You bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks, moaning softly around him. The vibrations made him curse under his breath. His fingers tangled in your hair, guiding you, not too rough but firm enough to send heat pooling between your legs. You felt dirty, slutty, but it was thrilling—like you were finally breaking every rule your mom had set.

“Shit, Y/N,” he gasped, hips twitching. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

You kept going, sloppy and eager, until he tensed up, a low groan escaping him as he came. Hot liquid filled your mouth, and you swallowed it down, surprised at how much you didn’t mind. You pulled off, wiping your lips, panting under the table as he caught his breath above you.

Things got wilder after that. The first time you let him inside you, it was slow and gentle—you didn’t want him to go too far, and he respected that. But tonight? Tonight, he was a horny mess, and you couldn’t hold back either. Your mom had left you two alone in your bedroom, and the second her footsteps faded down the hall, Sunghoon turned into a total animal. He practically tackled you onto the bed, pinning your wrists down with one hand while his other yanked at your clothes.

“Fuck, I’ve been hard all day thinking about you,” he growled, voice rough and desperate. His lips smashed into yours, sloppy and wet, all tongue and spit as he shoved it down your throat. He tasted like candy and lust, biting your lip hard enough to make you whimper. “You don’t even know how much I need this,” he panted, ripping your shirt up over your head and tossing it aside. Your bra didn’t stand a chance—he tugged it down, letting your tits spill out, and groaned like he’d never seen anything hotter. “These fucking tits—shit, they’re perfect,” he mumbled, diving in to suck on them. His mouth was hot and messy, licking and biting your nipples, leaving wet trails and red marks all over your chest.

You squirmed, already soaked through your shorts, but he didn’t care about teasing. He shoved your shorts down your legs, nearly tearing them off, and grinned when he saw your drenched panties. “Goddamn, you’re so fucking wet,” he said, voice shaking with excitement. “Been thinking about my dick, huh?” He didn’t wait for an answer—just yanked your panties to the side and spread your legs wide, staring at your pussy like it was his holy grail.

“Fuck, look at this,” he breathed, almost drooling. “So pretty, so fucking juicy—I’m gonna ruin it so bad.” He dove in like a starving kid, tongue lapping at you in long, messy strokes. He groaned loud, the sound vibrating through you as he sucked your clit hard, making obscene wet noises. “Tastes so fucking good,” he panted, pulling back just to spit on you, watching it drip down your folds before diving back in. “Could eat this pussy all fucking day.” His hands gripped your thighs, digging in so hard you’d have bruises, keeping you spread open as he buried his face deeper.

He was a mess—slobbering all over you, spit and your slick mixing into a sticky puddle between your legs. He’d lick fast, then slow, dragging his tongue through every inch of you like he couldn’t get enough. “Fuck, you’re so sweet,” he moaned, voice muffled as he shoved his tongue inside you, wiggling it around just to feel you clench. Then he’d pull out, sucking your clit again, making these loud, gross slurping sounds that had you moaning his name. “Sunghoon—oh my god,” you gasped, hands fisting his hair, pulling him closer.

“Yeah, baby, pull my fucking hair,” he grunted, rubbing his nose against your clit while his tongue fucked into you again. “Love this pussy so much—best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He was shameless, humping the bed like a horny dog, too worked up to care, his dick straining against his pants. He reached down with one hand, shoving two fingers into you, stretching you out while his lips stayed locked on your clit. “Gonna make you cum so hard you’ll never forget it,” he said, pumping his fingers fast, curling them deep until your thighs shook.

You couldn’t take it—your whole body locked up, and you came, gushing all over his face. He didn’t stop, licking up every drop, moaning like it was the best meal of his life. “Fuck yes, give me that,” he growled, chin dripping as he looked up at you, eyes wild. “So fucking messy—love it.”

He wasn’t done—not even close. He climbed up, shoving his pants down just enough to let his dick spring free, hard and leaking pre-cum all over itself. “Been jerking off to this all week,” he said, voice low and shaky as he lined up, rubbing the tip against your soaked entrance. “Gonna fuck you raw—need to feel this pussy around me.” He pushed in deep with one hard thrust, groaning loud as you yelped, the stretch burning but so good. He didn’t wait—started slamming into you, bed creaking loud, his hands gripping your hips so tight it hurt.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he moaned, sweat beading on his forehead. “So much better than those other girls—just you, fuck, just you.” He kissed you again, sloppy and desperate, all spit and teeth as he pounded you into the mattress. His thrusts were frantic, like he couldn’t get enough, grunting and cursing every time he bottomed out. “Gonna fill you up,” he panted, voice breaking. “You want my cum in this perfect little pussy, huh?”

“Yes—please, Sunghoon,” you begged, too lost to care about anything else. Your nails scratched down his back, legs wrapping around him as he fucked you harder, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room. He reached down, smearing your slick over your clit with his thumb, rubbing fast circles that had you seeing stars. “Cum for me again,” he growled, thrusts getting sloppier. “Wanna feel this pussy squeeze me.”

You did—hard. Your second orgasm hit like a wave, loud and messy, your moans echoing as your walls clenched tight around him. He lost it, groaning deep as he thrust once, twice more, then buried himself deep, spilling inside you. Hot, sticky cum flooded you, leaking out around his dick as he kept moving, slow and lazy now, milking every drop. “Fuck, take it all,” he muttered, kissing your neck, panting against your skin.

You were tangled up after, his dick still inside you, cum dripping out and soaking the sheets. He was breathing hard, nuzzling your neck, and you let him cuddle close, the locked door keeping you safe. Then you heard it. Your mom’s heavy, pissed-off footsteps stomping down the hall. You shoved at Sunghoon, heart racing. “Get off! she’s back!”

He didn’t stop, too caught up, thrusting slow and deep like it was no big deal. “Sunghoon, stop it!” you hissed, pushing harder, but he just smirked, thinking you were whining from the overstimulation.

Then the door rattled—hard, furious bangs. “Y/N! Open this damn door RIGHT NOW!” your mom screamed, voice boiling with rage. Sunghoon froze, eyes wide, finally getting it, but it was way too late. You moaned without meaning to, still sensitive, and it set her off. “What the FUCK is going on in there? I KNEW that little bastard was no good! OPEN THIS DOOR!”

The knob twisted hard, shaking like she was about to break it off. “You disgusting little slut!” she yelled, pounding again. “I raised you better than this! Letting that filthy boy touch you—open this goddamn door or I’m calling your dad!” Sunghoon scrambled off, yanking his pants up, panic all over his face as cum dripped down your thigh. You pulled the blanket over yourself, trembling, knowing there was no way out—she was furious, and you were caught red-handed.

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intromortal · 3 days ago

Note

mtl hyung line daddy kink perhaps... 👅👅

⚠︎ mdni. daddy kink u know the drill

JAY — is the obvious first choice to me, but it's sweet. he takes such good care of you outside of the bedroom: he helps you put on your clothes, he keeps a hand behind your back in crowded spaces, he gives you the best bites of whatever he's eating when you want to try it. he just screamssss dominance to me, i wouldn't be surprised if he enjoys taking on the role in the bedroom too. i feel like he would be the one to ask you to call him daddy. he takes such good care of you even when fucking!! i don't see him as mean but oh he can be strict. as long as you behave though, you're gonna be the most spoiled girl on earth. ik that aftercare is bomb no matter what

SUNGHOON — he's into whatever you are. contrary to popular belief i don't really subscribe to the mean dom sunghoon agenda. like i see it. i might even enjoy it sometimes, but i raise you softest dom ever sunghoon. i feel like he puts you in a headspace where you feel so cared for and comfortable, daddy just slips out. he 100% goes along with it and even takes a liking to it. he's Daddy but the 'no one has ever taken care of you like you deserve so i will' type of daddy. anything that gets you moaning gets his cock throbbing! probably has the sweetest smile on his face as he watches you come around his cock

HEESEUNG — i don't really see hee as someone who has a daddy kink himself, but hes so open to everything in the bedroom. so when it slips out of your mouth mid fuck... prepare to be teased into oblivion. like he WILL use it against you. literally calling you daddy's sweet girl in that pouty cutie voice like you're not abt to squirt all over him. probably edges you until he makes you say it again ohhh he pisses me off (i need him so bad)

JAKE — i don't think he has a daddy kink but call him daddy and see what happens. yeah. he's gonna give you a reason to call him that alright! probably fucking load after load into your tight cunt and whispering in your ear about how you'll make him a daddy! isn't that what you want?

#ask #anon #✷ mortal thirst #jake smut #enhypen smut #jay smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #jay thought #jake thought #hee thought #hoon thought

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en-lov3r · 2 days ago

Text

Elevator Ride | Park Sunghoon

Pairing: Sunghoon x reader Genre: Smut Warnings: Sex, unprotection, rough fucking, nipple licking, perversion, touching, licking, oral fucking Word Count: 2788 words

It was a clear sunny day.

There were traffic and busy workers hustling to get to their job. You looked as ready and tidy as ever, getting ready for a new job ahead in this new city you just recently moved to.

You will be working as a new assistant for a boss of this big corporation that owns many brands. Optimistic enough, you entered a tall glass building, filled with many windows, each step you took reverberated along the walls as you went to the elevator. After the elevator opened, you noticed a tall handsome lean man, who looked stylish. had his hair slicked back, he looked such of handsome beauty, his moles highlighting his features, that suit of his with his tie adjusted properly, how his suit straightens his shoulders, making him look broader. You wondered if he is dating anyone. He looked so hot in that suit you just wanted to fuck him in the elevator. You tried to get ahold of yourself, now it wasn't the time to be tempted. But you couldn't help it, you were still staring at him, with flirtatious eyes, you entered the elevator and you pressed on the button. Odd enough, you were about to see him reach his hand for the same button, but he pulled back once he saw you press it, you guys were going to the same floor. Enthusiastically, you wondered if he was an employee, though the ride from the elevator was kind of quiet, there ere many floors and the one you had to press was at the top floor. There was some silence on the way to get there, you looked over to your left and you just saw him, leaning against the wall, staring at the door into the abyss.

squealing, rattling, scraping, flickering

stop

The elevator suddenly came to a halt. The lights became dim. It was dark in the elevator. You wondered if this was a nonoccuring issue but you turned your head just to see this guy let out a long exhalation of air.

sigh

He seemed a bit mad. You never knew on the first day on your job that you will be stuck in an elevator with a hot handsome guy like him, but it is your first day. You'd figured you'll strike a conversation with him.

"I guess we must be late huh"

no response

"Does this usually happen?"

no response

This guy isn't responding. Few minutes pass by with dead silence. You groaned and rolled your eyes. You threw your head back against the wall, as if some miracle worker is going to come and save the day, you didn't want to be late, as your goal was to be there early, you tried pressing the help button, but for some reason, it wasn't working, you tried to press all the buttons in desperation before he stopped you

"What are you doing?"

"Well I don't see you doing anything right now"

"And you aren't helping either, the electricity, turned off again"

"Electricity?"

"Yeah, I'm assuming you must be new here because I never saw you here in our building."

"Yeah, I'm a new assistant"

"Oh, you are my assistant then."

It never occured to you that he was your boss. Who knew. You did like the fact that he was your boss but at the same time, you don't want to be stuck here. You started to glare at him as you crossed your arms and huffed. He saw you acting up and soon chuckled.

"We always get problems like these all the time, you'll get used to it"

"C'mon, aren't you strong enough, why don't you pry the doors open"

"Help will arrive"

30 minutes later

"So where is the help? Why are they taking forever??"

He muttered "They were supposed to be here"

You saw him in disappointment. He looked cute to be a bit mad. But that only made you a bit pissed that this corporation looked good on the outside but bad in the inside. Without much thought, you saw him trying to pry the doors open. It wouldn't budged. Not any longer, you saw him rolling off his sleeves, you saw his porcelain arms, veins bulging out of them, he was trying so hard you started to see him sweat, his brows furrowing, his face frowning. He started to pant and was on the verge of exhausation.

"I'm tired"

"You should just rest and let's just wait here"

"Hold on, I'll try once more"

This time you saw him take off his suit jacket. Rising his shoulders, his arms stretched out to the point you saw his muscles, his back looked so defined. Next, he started to untidy his tie. He left the tie on one side hanging off his shoulder. He started to open the buttons from his collar all the way down, one by one. His veins on his porcelain hands showing. Part of you was really tempted you began to react. Sweat began to drip off from his face. Before he began to pry the door again he was left interrupted with a smooching kiss you gave him, you holded his tie around his neck as you brang him closer to your height, he rounded his shoulders as he leeched towards you, his eyes surprised and shocked, you stared at him with such intent he noticed, a minute after, without any hesitation, he began to kiss back, you started swirling your tongue with his tongue until the kiss became hungry. He slowly started to move to your neck and kiss you there, sucking you off until he left a bruise, a hickey. He began to aggressively huff, leaving marks here and there. You guys kept kissing as you started to lean against the wall, he followed like a puppy, footsteps coming closer, with his arms over your head, a smirk reached to his lips as he reached your hands out to your face, touching it so softly and gently your ears became red,

"So this was your plan all along huh?"

"Yes boss~ the moment I saw you, I knew you had to do me"

He soon began to ravish your mouth like a dog in heat. He kept slobbering you up. You began to moan as he pressed your body against yours, feeling the body heat, the tension that was creating between the both of you. His arms touched your back, making you feel all feverish. You kept kissing until you averted away, he stared at you so deep, wanting more, his eyes looked so deep with thought, gazing at you romantically, he smiled as you started to slide down towards the floor, with your hands running down from his chest to his waist. You began to look up at him with big eyes while he stared down at you now expressionless. You began to unbuckle his belt, he looked real eager, wanting more from you, his eyes widening, you began to zip down his black sleek pants to uncover a massive bulge lying underneath, you began to lick down at it, tackling the spot till your saliva seeped through his crotch. He began to breathe heavily as he couldn't bother to take it anymore, you suddenly bite down part of his underwear that is left out, tugging it slowly to reveal the massive beast. His schlong bounced and falled clumsily against your head. He started to grin. You gaze in awe of how big it was. You couldn't believe it. It was really rock hard. He spread his legs a bit just for enough leg room as he bent his knees and put his hands behind his back. He spit saliva on his cock from down above just to give you some part in lubricating it. He kept smiling. Slowly, you dug the shaft of his cock against your warm wet tongue, the salty taste of his pre cum entering your mouth as you began to suck it like a lollipop. He winced.

"Fuck, baby, just like that, who knew my new assistant can be such a slut."

"Who knew my-" slurps "Boss has such a huge dick-" gasps

"Oh yeah? Suck on that cock, suck on that shit."

He dig his fingers through your hair, both of his hands covering your whole scalp as he started to pull on it. You started moaning as he pulled on your hair, his face getting lost in the moment, as his eyes started to roll to the back of his head, enjoying it as he started to rock his hips back and forth, hitting the back of your throat, leaving a bright red bruise. You began to breathe rapidly, as you were gagging on his cock, he started to pound your mouth faster and faster until you couldn't breathe. He loved how good his cock felt, all slobbery and slippery, just enough for him to almost cum. You felt pure bliss, as you watched your boss enjoy yourself, closing his eyes in satisfication, everything happened so abrupt you felt his cock leaking to your throat

"I-m about to cum! Here it comes baby!"

He shooted his warm load against my throat, he looked to be in pure relief as I saw him release my hair, flowing down towards me, His eyes partly closed as and he sighed, his arms gently touched your skin, coaxing you as you done a great job in giving him pleasure, but it wasn't full yet.

"Clothes off, now please."

"Anything for you daddy"

You slowly rose up as he stared at you. As you got up, he slowly slid off your suit off your body, as he was running his long sleek cold hands down your chest, you started rubbing his cock as it became hard once again. He had a full hard on. You started to look at him, making eye contact as you slowly closed your eyes and kissed once again

"Hmm, touch it, just like that, I'll pound you until you can't get up"

He began to touch you too. He slowly touched you from your knees to your soft thighs, your face flushing at the sight of his touch. He brang your knee and raised it up with his hand, his cock starting to slide against your clit so easily. He started to thrust a couple times, rubbing your clit with his hard rock tip.

"mHm, pls not there" you moaned

"Don't worry, I won't go that far, yet" with a devilish smile

He started to put more pressure in thrusting. His soft moans filling your ear, every second you indulge in his whimpers, making you really wet, you could tell that you began to leak some fluid out of your pussy as it started to slowly drip into his dick.

"You want this huge cock? Do you want boss to put a baby inside you?"

"Yes, fuck me really hard and give me all your babies, please!"

He kept swallowing your neck as he slowly grinned, controlling you to his own accord. Holding your slim body with his muscular form, he forced your legs apart, as he brang down your knee, teasing your clitoris with his cock as he was about to jam it in.

He chuckles "Jesus baby, look how horny you got me"

He began to kiss my ear, with my legs dancing against with his cock, our bodies pressing more firmly than ever. His gaze fixated from my face to my chest area.

"Didnt I say, clothes off now?"

"I'm so sorry I-" loudly moans

His strong grip touched my suit, feeling through my boobs, his grin became even strong as he became obsessive with jiggling them, smiling as if they're some toys he can play with. He started to hum against your skin, breaking away the kisses he once did to your face now to your chest area. He tore away the buttons, wrecking the hem of your suit just to uncover a holy sight of your boobs, you started to feel a squeeze in them as he began to bury his face into them, you felt his nose hit your chest, while licking your sensitive nipples, he is simutaeously stimulating your clit. He left a trail of little sucks here and there, as he slowly began to take off your suit and your pants, also revealing a naked body.

"You like what you see?"

"I can't wait to fuck you, I can't hold back any longer"

"Shove that cock in yes please! Impregnate me!"

"Tell me how much you want it"

"I want it now please!"

"Oh yeah?" grunts

"O- mm- FuCk-"

The anger and fustration he kept penting up was now released. His tongue slips into your mouth, causing you to muffle a moan. He slid his cock into your pussy it made squishy sounds, you were about to squirt. He carried both of your legs as he pinned you against the wall, all hearing is smooching and heavy breathing, his hot breath going against his face as he keeps huffing, his hands traced your body to your hips as he wraps around your waist, shoving that cock even deeper, his cock is making you really satisfied, you couldn't take it anymore as you close your eyes, with him having you jump on his cock when moving. He kisses you even more, giving a warning "You better hold on tight for me baby" You started to grip your hands on the sides of his head, touching his sweaty hair, your moans get even louder as he keeps pounding your g spot over and over, "Boss, please make me cum!"

"I'm not stopping until I cum deep into that fucking pussy."

You started to arch your back as he started to cling onto your ass, he started biting his lips while he was staring at you, his expression unchanged, he only stared at you while you guys kept fucking, his eyes, unfazed, watching you enjoying that dick of his. He smirked as he took it up a notch and started fucking hard, till your body couldn't take much longer. You couldn't breathe, you wanted him to stop.

"Boss, stop please, Y- you are g- gonna make me c- ummm, o- ohhH"

"Say my name"

"W-what is y-OUr mm- NamE?"

"S-Sunghoon, say it for me b-baby"

"Sunghoon please s-TOP" moans

"You wish- you fucKing SLut" said with a sheepish grin

Sunghoon started ramming you so hard you can feel him shake,he started swelling up your insides, making you get closer

"Fuck!" he started to pant shakily

"I-I'm about to f-all apart!"

Your voice begin to tremble. You were about to fall apart until he whispered into your ear, "I'm going to cum inside you, right n-now."

You felt his cum shooting up inside you, his cock begin to twitch real bad as he almost collapse into the floor, with his vision turning white as he rolled his eyes back, his orgasm shooting down from his spine. He still carried you with his hands, spreading your cheeks even wider as he rammed that cock inside you, making you take all his cum inside until he came out dry. He felt your cunt clenched as the cum started to drip out, you started to convulse as you began reaching your orgasm, your body started to shake as you were hanging on to his lean body, squirting everywhere over that big dick of his, your fingernails digging into his back, both of you guys ejaculated with pleasure as you both sinked into the bottom, cock and pussy still attached to each other

"O- Oh fuckkk baby, look how much cum I came inside you"

"You had such a huge cock my hung boss, I loved every part of you using me up"

Both of you guys exhaled in exhaustion. He slowly pulled his cock, his long legs stil facing towards you as cum came dripping out, plugging that pussy of yours, he sighed in relief as he leaned his head back and layed on the ground, overwhelmed and exhausted, you saw cum spillage on the floor from your guy's intense fuck and tasted it, it was salty and delicious

bzzzzz, bzzzzz~ flickering

The lights finally turned on. The electricity is back, the sounds on the elevator began to function. You guys quickly put on your clothes. Sunghoon started putting on his pants then shoes and his suit, all wrinkled, same with you, but some cum stains were here and there, you better best hoped people never noticed. You guys stood up straight, acted all nonchalantly, as if nothing ever happened, but his hand started to grip your ass, he smiled as you looked back at him, as if he eagerly wanted to fuck again, the elevator opened and he quickly put his hand back to his pant pocket, some workers greeted him at the top floor.

"Hello boss, welcome back! I hope the elevator wasn't troublesome today, we contacted the electricity workers to come by and fix the problem, hopefully it won't occur."

"Yes, I wouldn't mind if they did, occur."

He looked at you straight with deep dreamy eyes. You resisted his temptation.

"Also, mind showing the new assistant where her new desk is?"

A person came along to help you.

"Thank you so much!"

It so happens that your desk is inside your boss's office.

I looked back and turned at Sunghoon. He went the opposite direction of his office to get something, his words mouthing "We are going to have so much fun~" winks

You are ready to be made into his cum slave.

330 notes · View notes

minkieater · 2 days ago

Text

this is so fucking incredible it is going to live in me for so long. i cannot believe this. i have so many thoughts about the incredible writing i just ingested and i cannot put my own words together. top 3 for me and it is nawt 1 or 2. i hope i enter this universe in my dreams tonight

ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT. 2 (P.SH)

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part one | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader

WORDCOUNT ― 21.8k

CONTENT ― modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth

SIDE CHARACTERS― jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor

!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring

NOTE ― you must read part one to understand the story. anyway i did not mean to go in so deep with jungwon, i just really fucking adore him please forgive me. anyway, this is briefly edited. if you see a typo, shhhhhh, i don't wanna know.

tags under cut

smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him,

other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“My love, let me.”

You sit up only to be eased back onto the soft mattress. Pillows plush against your head as Sunghoon dabs away at each puncture he’s left on you.

“You know you can’t sit up so quickly, just rest and let me.”

You’re littered with his bites by now and you only grow more and more enamored with the feeling of it. Or, perhaps you just enjoy the fact that he’s fixated on drinking from you. Multiple times a day, until your fingers and toes are numb, until you can barely stand without dropping to the floor.

Enamored through all of it, really. With the way he bites so gently only to suck harder and harder until his fingers grip and pierce through your skin much like his teeth do. He’ll hold you so hard through it, forcing arousal to run through you every single time he goes for that artery in your thigh. You think that’s his favorite spot to bite, if the dozens of wounds there are anything to go by. Truly, you’re enamored with him, always wanting to give him more just so he stays with you longer.

You seem to have lost yourself in the lust of it all. The fantasy, the desire. On the brink of insanity, you know you’ve grown obsessed with what Sunghoon does to you, and it’s to the point that you don’t question yourself like you normally would. Your desire for this is too strong, far too intimidating to doubt.

But since that night, he always leaves you with blood against his lips. Aroused, frustrated, confused. Never once letting a hand stray too far, never letting his lips trace anywhere but to your wounds or new expanse of skin that needs to be bitten.

For days now you’ve been here. You lay here one full day since you were supposed to be back at work too, just waiting for the moment Sunghoon will do more than just drink from you. Mostly for a confirmation. It feels like you’re forcing yourself to go missing for this alone and every night you lie awake in this room waiting, wanting more from him now than you think you ever have.

The room you're in now is lonely, though adorned nearly as beautiful as the one you were in the night Sunghoon stole you away. You know the place you want to be is just down the hall, but your legs won’t carry you there no matter how much you try. He’s rendered you bed ridden and you miss it there, with his silk sheets and candle lit walls.

Then again, maybe it’s not the room at all that you miss. Maybe it’s just Sunghoon.

You can’t help but note that when he’s on you or next to you, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. But when you’re alone, you feel your skin crawl with such immense anxiety that you nearly want to scream out for him to come back. Several times already you have called out for him mere moments after he’s left the room. It gives you hope in knowing that each time, he does return to you even if just for a moment.

All of it is very arousing when he comes to you, but it’s killing you inside to know that he does nothing more than feed off of you. You get nothing out of it but his presence, and perhaps he expects that to be enough. It’s driving you insane to give everything you have to him so willingly, knowing he hasn’t offered anything back to you.

The fact that you want this, you want him, and you want to be the only blood he craves? It’s a feeling you’ve had to accept, because trying to deny it at this point would only lead you down a more destructive path. As if the one you’re on now isn’t already killing you, if not physically, emotionally. You want to be the person lying in his bed again so badly. You want to show him that you’re no longer terrified. You want to give him equal arousal and interest.

But he doesn’t offer it. No, he simply bites.

“I can do it.” You say to him in a frustrated sigh. “I’m not helpless, you know.”

He’s taken aback by the way you rip the gauze from his hands, sitting up and scooting away from him when you dip it into the bowl of alcohol. Your head spins at the act, but you push through the weakness anyway, knowing he doesn’t like the distance you’re creating between him and you.

You don’t like the distance either, but it’s helpful to know he doesn’t ignore it.

“I’m aware.” Sunghoon narrows his eyes at the way your heart is beating for him right now, taking the gauze back from you and gripping your arm to pull you back and against him. “Why are you being difficult?”

He cleans a wound just under your jaw as he looks at you, waiting for you to answer him. You stare back as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, not wincing at all like you previously had when he lets the alcohol burn the swollen punctures.

“Hah, so you can’t read minds?” You confirm for yourself, though you had the suspicion that he couldn’t. “You just keep doing this–” You continue, trying not to sound as if you’re nagging. “And nothing else.”

He tilts his head as he moves the gauze to another part of your neck, knowing full well what it is you want.

“Nothing else?” He repeats in a sly question. “Is there more you want?”

You nod slightly, feeling the cold alcohol send a shiver across your skin, your head finally clearing of the dizziness just from sitting up.

“Name it.”

Somehow, you lose the ability to ask for what you want. It feels silly to be mad that he hasn’t given you any sexual pleasure despite feeding off of you for days now. Is it insane that sex is all you want in return? Should you ask for financial compensation or something?

“Ah.” He answers for you with an all-knowing smirk, his nostrils flaring as he inhales your scent. “You want pleasure, yes?”

“Do you not?” You ask simply, and he pulls back with the gauze to look at you dumbfounded.

For a solid twenty seconds the two of you stare at each other before he’s dropping the gauze into the bowl and pulling you against him in full, turning your body so that your back is to his chest. His strong arms are still cold, but you feel warm enough against him like this.

“It pleases me to know you want it.” He smiles against the top of your head. “Unfortunately, I have other things to tend to.” He continues, pausing to hold you a bit closer. “I still have to feed, love, and I still need to maintain order here. I cannot just spread your legs every waking minute.”

You’re not asking for him to fuck you every waking minute. It makes you feel as if he’s annoyed to even use such words regarding this. Still, your cheeks warm at his sweet voice.

“As much as I’d like to.”

Oh. Your cheeks aren’t just warm, they’re on fire at those words. You’d grasp at anything right now, despite feeling like an afterthought. You don’t like that you’re not a priority to him, even though he fucking feeds on you consistently. To the point you can’t even stand for a full minute without fucking fainting from blood loss. Still, you accept his words and try to think of the positives over the negatives.

Unfortunately, you’ll never be satisfied with just his words and a mere ten seconds later you’re right back to questioning, doubting, and feeling upset.

So he can feed this often, but not even slip a finger into you through it?

Priorities. He has to feed, he said? Does he not already?!

“Wait, Sunghoon, you do feed.” You argue. “On me.”

He shakes his head at your ignorance of believing he’ll ever truly have enough of you. Even past death, he’ll never have enough. Which is precisely why you’re still breathing.

“There are needs I have that you’ve yet to understand. You satiate the hunger, yes, but that is nothing more than a feeling, not a truth.”

You try to comprehend his words but fall short. Only because that would mean–

“You’re becoming afraid again,” He comments on your heart rate. “Calm yourself, darling, the need within me is no fault of my own and I’ll continue to keep you from seeing the act take place.”

There’s silence from you as you try to calm yourself down. Of course he has to feed, but…is that not what he’s already been doing to you? Your heart isn’t racing from fear, it’s racing from–jealousy.

“So, mine isn’t enough?” You feel your heart shatter a bit when you voice it, knowing full well that for him to be full, he likely has to kill.

Why are you jealous? Well, if you’re so irresistible like he says you are, why does he hold back? Why are you still alive? Does your blood not taste as good as whoever else he’s been having at? Why does he keep you around, but no one else? Maybe they’re the ones who are irresistible, and you’re just a placeholder for if he can’t find his meal for the night. Maybe he’s just using you.

“Hmm.” Sunghoon thinks hard at your question. “You’re feeling envious?”

You don’t respond to him or the way he clocks your jealousy, and instead shake his grip off of you before grabbing the gauze yourself again.

He watches you take the material and dip it into the liquid, moving it down your legs and to the assault of wounds against your thigh.

“You’re truly strange.” He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs, listening closely to the artery you have there, always so hungry for more but knowing he need not drink for the time being. After all, he’s just eaten. “Almost as unnatural as I am.”

You have to force back a smile at the truth of his words though, softening at the way he compares you to him like the two of you fit together perfectly. The jealousy rages within you, but so does this strange adoration you have for him.

“To think I don’t crave you? Have I not shown you already?”

“Hmm, you might need to remind me.” You’re being playful now, trying to get what you want. Entirely thankful for the way he solves every problem you have with him in your head even if just for a moment.

You think you’ll always miss him on a deeper level than just sitting and speaking though.

“When can I leave the room?” You ask now, suddenly. “When can I come back to your room?”

Sunghoon doesn’t fight his own smile, loving the way you stay of your own free will, even while upset with him for not giving you more than that single night of love making.

“Not yet, love.” He mutters now, knowing that it’s not likely for you to be able to make it down the hallway without calling for his help, also knowing that he can’t give you what you want again so soon.

“Oh.” You look at him, face falling. “Let me guess, because you have better shit to do.”

“Still so envious.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “You’ll learn soon enough how I need you.”

Just, not yet.

After all, he drinks you until he has no choice but to stop. Multiple times a day, draining you until it’s near dangerous. The fact that you enjoy it drives him to do it more and more.

You think it’s easy for him to utilize self-control around you? You think he doesn’t want to experience you in every way you can offer? With those pretty sounds you make? God, he misses the way your body hugged his cock so much. You’re out of your mind to think he’s holding out on you because he doesn’t want it. Because you're not good enough? Stupid, stupid girl.

He needs it. He wants it. He’s fucking obsessed with what you do to him.

You’re truly not the only one trying to adjust to this situation. He has to be very careful with you, and having sex with you could very well break the resolve he’s forced into himself. A simple touch from you that feels too good could have him acting on a split second decision, drinking until you’re dead and cold, just like him.

Essentially, he has to train himself to your scent and taste. Sure, he’s been fucking nearly every victim since his cock started working again, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’d rather it be you. In fact, the only reason he’s fucking them is to satiate the need to destroy everything that you are for his own desire of having you.

The issue is that his drive to kill is insanely high, smelling you just down the hall makes every new victim taste better. It makes his cock fuck harder, it makes their bodies feel almost good enough for him to release. But they’re not you, and it’s rendering him unable to control himself.

His recent victims? Oh, it ends so gruesomely. He feels overheated in the moment, drenched, fucking feral when he makes his kill. Wishing it was you, ignoring the scent of the person beneath him just to smell you from a different room.

If he gets his hands on you when he’s in that state of mind again, you’ll be gone forever. That’s something Sunghoon wouldn’t be able to live with. Already he’s controlled himself through it once and that may very well have been the hardest thing he’s done in his life. He can’t promise that he can hold back again.

Until he can feed and fuck without feeling his instinct grab him by the throat, he cannot do more than small feedings with you. That alone is training all on its own, because every single time he feeds, he struggles not to take all of it.

Bit by bit. Sunghoon has to take you piece by fucking piece. And your willingness to do it, entirely awake and aware, makes it all the more difficult.

He can’t tell you this. Not yet, at least. You’d know the danger you’re in. Nor can he pretend like he will let you leave out of fear. He needs to keep this peace with you until he can truly enjoy you in a way that will ensure you’ll be alive and well after the fact.

And so, he changes the subject, grabbing you even tighter and hugging you in the way any modern boyfriend would. This. This is something he can handle.

“Are you bored of me carrying you across the room?” He asks. “Do you miss walking on your own two feet that much, if just to make it to my room?” He smiles now, making jokes with you that feel a bit dry when it hits your ears.

“Are you implying that I’m a slut?” You laugh at his attempt to make you smile, slapping against his cold arm playfully. “That the only reason I want to leave this room is to come into yours and fuck you?”

He shrugs from behind you, hugging tighter, wanting to be under your skin with that beating heart.

“Am I not right to assume? You little harlot.”

Well, he got you there.

And you laugh with him about it, living in your little fantasy world like this never has to end. Reality looms taller than Sunghoon does, unfortunately.

He can feel your heart rate pick up when your laugh slows down.

“But, Sunghoon, I can’t stay here for much longer like this.” You drop it on him like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and oh how he wishes you could just disappear with him. “I haven’t been home, my phone is there and I’m sure people have been calling.”

His eyes darken at your words as he pushes you from his grasp. Already you wish to leave? After complaining to him about what he doesn’t give you? Is that why you’re saying this right now? No sex means you’ll leave?

Serves him right for not using the pull on you. He should have kept hold of your mind rather than relish in your willingness.

“I’ve missed work already.” Your voice gets smaller as you watch him move from the bed and stand in front of you, the scent of cinnamon assaulting your nose along with his darkened and intimidating facial expression. “I– I’ll–come back. I promise.” You cower immediately.

Sunghoon shakes his head at you.

“Did I not make myself clear?” He deepens his voice, unsure of how to handle his own internal panic. “Never have I let a commoner leave this cathedral alive and knowing the truth.”

“Are you–threatening me?” You ask, scooting away from him and accidentally knocking over the bowl of alcohol with your foot.

“Did you not just say you envy the others? Envy dying by my hand?” He questions you back, looming over you in an intimidating stance. Suddenly much, much taller than reality. “Every time you’ve said you’d come back, you’ve done no such thing. Have I upset you this much?”

You frantically shake your head.

“No, no!” You lift your hands in defense, reaching out to his towering figure. “I want to be here with you! You just said yourself that you have things to tend to, so do I! If I don’t show up at work, or at least have my phone, people will have the fucking cops out and looking for me!”

Sunghoon softens, cinnamon air fading out within a second. He feels only slightly ashamed of his immediate outburst when all you can offer back to him is truth. Perhaps you’re the only one living in the real world, even if he’s been living in it for far, far, longer.

You’ve pulled him into a fantasy, just like he has for you. He truly let himself forget that you’re no victim that’s meant to die. You can’t just disappear without question, and already it has been days.

Still, you can’t just leave him.

“I see.” He says, reaching down to grab at the hands you have clinging to his clothes in an attempt to calm himself more than you. “Shall I retrieve your device for you then?”

You slowly nod, looking away from him and ignoring the fact that as much as you do want to be here with him, the fact that he just implied that you can never leave is a bit– um, intense. So, you don’t argue when you nod to him. If anything, to keep the peace.

“I’ll see to it that you have it in your hands by tonight. And in time, I’ll invite you back to my quarters.” Ending his sentence with a bribe to keep you here felt fitting, and he’s thankful for the way you accept it.

You nod quicker now, entirely satisfied with his words when he steps back and away from you.

“Now, please finish cleaning your wounds. I don’t want to taste infection in you.”

Despite feeling better about it, wanting him still, those words hurt you. You feel insulted by the time he leaves you alone in the room. Like if you got an infection he’d simply lose interest in you, or perhaps end this love of your blood he has.

He may even just go ahead and kill you if that were to happen.

It drives you to clean yourself twice over. Three times over. Unwilling to lose the feeling of someone biting you so gently, unwilling to die because your use to him has run out. And it feels like you clean yourself all day. To the point you’re probably making yourself more susceptible to infection rather than protecting yourself from it.

And in this room, time doesn’t exist. There’s a window indicating where the sun is in the sky, but hours and minutes are meaningless. Only when the sun is up do you start counting, knowing that Sunghoon will only visit you during nightfall.

You clean yourself for what you assume to be hours upon hours, all the way up until the sun falls and you hear the door creak open. You expect to see Sunghoon coming in for his routine of drinking from you, but instead, you find a pale-eyed nun rush to you with your phone and immediately leave after.

A quick presence is gone within a moment, but you pay no mind as you look down at your phone. You’re thankful for the fact that it’s probably been on the charger all four days you’ve been gone. Considering, well, there’s no electricity this high up in the cathedral, you’ll have to save your battery as best as you can.

So many missed calls.

Even more missed texts.

Dozens of emails.

Jungwon.

In the morning after you left your apartment, he checked in with you. All throughout the day too. It wasn’t until that same night where his texts became frantic. A little, “i’m coming over, fuck you if you get mad at me for it.” followed by “are you mad at me? why won’t you respond?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

Really though, it hurts your heart to have forgotten about him entirely during your time here. Reading through his texts, you see him fight with himself over your absence. Up until yesterday, where he texts you from the museum.

A glaring “stopped by again today only to realize your apartment was unlocked this whole time. i’m with your boss now, we are calling the cops if you don’t respond within the next ten seconds.”

A full day late, you respond quickly.

You: wonnie!!! i’m sorry! I got sad and went home to see my mom. totally ignored my phone…and forgot to lock the door i guess

You: you know, hormones lol

Immediate spam. Your phone vibrates aggressively back to back with his frantic texts.

Wonnie: you have to be fucking JOKING

Wonnie: NOT A SINGLE WORD FROM YOU. YOU COULD HAVE CALLED WORK OR

SOMETHING FROM SOMEONE ELSE’S PHONE. I WAS AT YOUR PLACE EVERY DAY.

Wonnie: i CANNOT believe you!!!!!!!!!!!

Wonnie: your whole ass apartment was unlocked and you weren’t there! anyone could’ve walked right in!!!!! are you stupid or something?

Wonnie: are you home now?

Wonnie: i’m so mad at you FUCK

Wonnie: i got so scared

Wonnie: im coming over

You panic.

You: wait, i’m not home yet. I didn’t mean to stay so long, I promise ill be home soon and fill you in on everything.

Wonnie: call your boss.

Wonnie: ill deal with the cops, then im gonna be waiting outside of your apartment

Wonnie: don’t ever fucking do that shit again, been crying all morning

Wonnie: i hate you so much right now, im never talking to you again

Wonnie: get your stupid ass back home

You smile fondly at his worry, but the smile is short lived as you know you probably can’t leave here. Not only from the fact that Sunghoon appears to be unwilling to let you leave but you…don’t want to.

Still, you do need to call your boss, and you make quick work of it. Sitting dissociated through the mindless scolding of your terrible lie of an excuse, and then the following call from the local police department.

Arguably, speaking to the police was easier than knowing you’ll have to lie to Jungwon again. At least the police are aware that you’re a grown woman who can disappear if she wishes. Jungwon, on the other hand, requires a little more care and consideration.

You’re tired by the time you lay your phone down, unable to keep your eyes open as you drift off.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Some time later, you wake to the same familiar scent of Sunghoon wafting from under your door. It doesn’t process yet in your brain that you’ve not smelled it since the night you wandered from your apartment. But now? Oh, it’s strong.

It’s very, very strong.

Your drowsy eyes look to the door as your legs carry you there, and out you go. Down the hallway, straight to those big doors, straight through those big doors.

The scent burns in your throat the moment you step inside, blurry eyes witnessing two figures right there on the floor. The only clear thing you can make out are his darkened narrowed eyes, only because your brain refuses to process the act taking place in front of you at first.

He looks…rabid. Hair is a mess, sticky and dripping with thick metallic liquid.

Oh, it sounds so loud. The squelching and the smacking of skin. Your stomach drops, the pit inside of it flourishing with nothing short of rotted desire.

Right there on the floor of his room lies a woman seemingly experiencing god. Sunghoon is moaning with his eye trained on your shocked figure. He ignores the woman’s aroused grasps against his arms to keep his eyes trained on you. And he just…smirks through it, licking his lips, rolling his eyes back only for them to fall right back to you.

The squelching rings in your ears as he moves faster, feverishly chasing a hunt he’s already got lying beneath him. Almost as if catching him in the act aroused him more than he already had been. Like he’s showing you how much more he’d prefer someone else over you.

He moans your name inwardly again and again, as if to call you forward to him but your feet can no longer move as you process the act with each call of your name.

He’s fucking her. He’s devouring her.

Not you. Her.

You can feel your heart shrivel at the act when you stumble back, a twisting pain in your chest that you feel silly over. You barely know Sunghoon, but somehow it feels like he’s given you more of himself than he has anyone else. He speaks that way to you, anyway. Always with the words of “I’ve never done this, until you.”

That was a lie. You’re seeing it now with your own two eyes and you’re paying for believing that you, somehow, could be special. And the pain in your chest travels all throughout your body at the fact that you let this man bite you. You let him take and take until you could barely stand, until you could barely think, until you were right on the cusp of death.

And you still want to do that for him. But now? He’s grown bored of you. Perhaps he intends to let this woman live too. Perhaps she’s silly enough to fall for a sweet vampire’s words too.

You stumble back more, forcing your legs to work with you rather than against you. It’s like your body has a mind of its own when he smells so welcoming. Cinnamon, spicy, sweet, painful cinnamon. Such a suffocating smell, easy to give in to and grow weak for. At least for you, that’s how it feels.

When you force yourself to turn around, only to continue stumbling down the hallway, your eyes work against you now too. You knew it would happen though and it’s not something you can stop. The burn and blur of tears prickling at the corners, your throat scratchy and sore.

You try to hold it in, feeling as if life is being suffocated out of you all the way down. Down, down, down. Past the nuns, past the beautiful and intricate interior, and straight out of the big front doors of the cathedral.

No goodbyes.

The breezy night air smacks you hard, forcing a sobbed breath out of you. You dry heave for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut so tight just to try and regain control of yourself and your emotions. The images behind your eyes flash back and forth. You’ve not just witnessed death, but the pleasure of death. Well, if he kills the woman, anyway.

And you still can’t fathom it. The way you feel, the way you’re reacting, the intense desire for death if it means Sunghoon wants you that badly. Never would you have guessed that a feeling so deeply terrifying exists. But it does, you’re witnessing it overtake the deepest parts of you right now.

Fuck, you didn’t want to leave but you did. And now here you are, freed from a grasp that you still want so badly.

Your lungs burn and your chest hurts more than the swollen puncture wounds all over your body. Everything is burning. It’s too, too, hot inside of your skin right now and there’s nothing more you’d rather do than to crawl out of it and freeze.

Still, you do your best to control the emotions within you. You take a short look around only to feel the head rush hit you now like it should have when you stood from your bed. Right, the blood in your body likely isn’t enough to keep you upright for long and you know you’ll likely not make it to your apartment in this state.

But you try. Your eyes are out of focus and your legs are clumsy as you try to walk. Down the sidewalk you go, until–

“Woah, little lady.”

You hear Balor’s voice echo in your ears. The sound of safety feeling so, so far away.

You can’t even thank him for it because your vision blurs more at the feeling of big, leather clad arms holding you upright, and then– you’re out.

You’re not sure how much time has passed by the time you’re able to hold your eyes open again, but when you do, Jungwon is here and so is that hot bartender you forgot existed. And as you try to comprehend where you are, you learn very quickly that you’re in the back room of the club with concerned eyes focused on..not your face, your body.

“Let’s get you home.” Jungwon’s concerned voice settles in your ears, and only now do you feel his warm hands soothing you against your shoulders.

“Or maybe a hospital?” Jay offers, also inspecting your skin and the weak state of your body as you try to sit up.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You say, immediately starting to cry out. “Please, just take me home.”

And so, home is where you go. Jay drives both you and Jungwon there with a kind voice and worried eyes. You see him make the attempt to hug you before leaving, but Jungwon is quick to stop him with a small shake of his head.

“Let me know when you’re feeling better.” Is all Jay says when he leaves, which, you’re sure he didn’t intend to leave but of course, Jungwon. You can see that he wants to be the one here with you and he insisted to Jay that he’s got you.

It heals your heart a little bit, but doesn’t change the fact that you’re embarrassed for not only Jungwon to be pulled into your mess, but Jay too?

You’re humiliated.

And by the time Jungwon has undressed and redressed you, ignoring the intense smell of alcohol against your skin for now, he’s immediately lying next to you, clinging to you really.

You’re aware of what he saw when he removed your clothes. You heard the breath he took in, you saw his confusion at how the clothes you had on were very much not from your closet. He’s going to ask, and you knew he would.

“You’re really cold.” He says in a cracked voice, gentle and sweet as he tries to warm you up. “You weren’t with your mom, were you?”

You weakly shake your head.

“You were with that guy you told me about before.” He says now, grabbing you tighter pretending he doesn’t know just how many wounds you have under your clothes. He can’t help but hold you tighter, even if it hurts you.

“What did he do to you?”

Your throat starts to burn as you cry again. You can barely process what’s happened yourself and explaining it to someone else only feels that much harder.

The pulsing in your head is too much, you can’t even think straight right now.

“It was–” You try to calm down, breathing in deep but avoiding eye contact. “It was consensual, don’t worry.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrow, staring at the deep bite marks on your neck. He’s quick to lift himself up, ripping your shirt up and off of you without so much as trying to be gentle. His panic is blatant and he’s entirely unable to hide how pissed off he is right now.

“No, it wasn't.” He dead-pans as he presents your own body to you, his voice coming out harsher than usual. “You’d be out of your fucking mind to think i believe that this was consensual.”

He glares at the swollen marks, unsure as to what to do with himself.

“Fuck,” He scoffs your name along with the curse, throwing his hands up. “Fucking look at them.”

You turn away from him now, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively in an attempt to not peer at what you wish you could have more of. You know what this looks like though, and you’re really trying to see things from his perspective.

But…It’s hard after everything you’ve witnessed yourself.

‘It was.” You say again. “I practically begged him to keep doing it.”

Jungwon falls silent as he counts. 1, 2, 3, 13, 25, 56, 72, still more.

“I wasn’t going to come home, you know.” You sigh out at the silence of his counting.

More silence.

“Was gonna stay and never leave.”

“What? Why?” He panics more at the admittance, dropping down over you and forcing your arms from yourself, trying to pretend he didn’t re-open some of your wounds by tearing your shirt off of you.

You can hear your best friend crying at the way you hide from him, all bloodied and bruised, but you keep your eyes closed even tighter. All he can do is lend you the entire weight of his body, enveloping you in all of his warmth and care, using his entire body to shield you from even the air in your room.

“What did he do?” Jungwon pleads for an answer with a cracked whisper. He needs context. Anything to explain the state of you right now.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“What did he do?” He presses again, voice only cracking more as he cries along with you.

“It’s more so what he didn’t do.”

Silence again.

“What did he fucking do?”

You take in a deep breath, sighing out against your best friend’s fluffy hair, humming at his warmth and how much you’ve missed it.

There’s nothing you can say to make him understand, all you can do is try because hearing him like this is, arguably, just making it more painful.

“I just really liked him, and I guess he didn’t like me so much in the end.”

Jungwon chooses to take that at face value, opting to not let you out of his sight from this moment forward if he can help it. At one point with you, he was worried about being too clingy. Truly, he was afraid he would annoy you by attaching himself. Never has he grown so close to a person so fast and never has he gained such comfort within someone else’s bubble like he does with you. The comfort is still there, but no longer does he give a single fuck about clinging too much. You clearly cling too.

If you cling enough to let a man abuse your body like that, you’ll be able to handle him clinging just as much, enough to care for you, and enough to not fucking leave your side. He’s not going anywhere, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

After all, he’s not stupid, but he’s willing to act as dumb as you need him to if it means you’ll let him keep you within arms reach. In his head, there’s no way you fell into something with someone who could do this to you without reason, and it appears it’s not a question he’ll get a clear answer from you any time soon.

It doesn’t matter if his installation will come to an end at some point. He can’t just leave you here when there’s some strange man running around biting the fuck out of people like a rabid dog. Abusing his best friend? No. He won’t have it and he doesn’t care if he has to force you to accept his protection.

He can’t do much for you, but he’s willing to at least be here with you.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jungwon soothes you, clinging tighter just to feel some of those reopened wounds bleed onto him. His voice is a stark reminder that there’s more to feel in your body than just pain. “I won’t let him near you again, okay?”

You nod, still crying as you cling back, trying to ignore the images in your head of Sunghoon.

“Okay.” You lie, missing him too much already, the faint scent of cinnamon still in your nose.

And you fall asleep like that. Warm.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You hate calling it an “escape.” You carried yourself out of that beautiful cathedral against your body begging you to stay. Still, even now with Jungwon clinging so warmly at night, you wish you had never left.

Even the pain of seeing what Sunghoon does behind your back, the jealousy that came with it, you would have stayed if only to prove your worth to him. Being so close to death is exhilarating, and you find yourself feeling entirely empty and void of any emotion that brings joy because of it.

This isn’t depression, nor is it simple envy. This sadness within you sinks lower than you thought possible, so deeply rooted within you that you feel death itself couldn’t even allow a safe escape. After all, if vampires are real, who's to say you won't end up as a tormented ghost forever searching for a man who can never die?

Damned if you live, damned if you die, so to say. You can’t have Sunghoon either way, you can only have him while suffering.

And oh, how you miss the cold. You miss his cold. You miss the fear too. You miss the way he’d laugh with no breath against you and drink from your thighs like he needed more. You miss the way your wounds would pulse in pain and lend little reminders of the teeth that pierced them. Even now, they’re healing so well.

And it still hurts.

It hurts to know he said, while holding you, that he craves you. That he very much wants you but has things to tend to. The fact that he needed to tend to fucking other women while drenched in their blood? Things to tend to.

Because to Sunghoon, real life women, breathing women, are minimized to things to tend to.

Fucking vampires.

It’s been a week now since you left and it hasn’t gotten easier. During the week, Jungwon hasn’t so much as let you shower without the bathroom door open. You guess that’s fair.

Still, it has only been a week. A week of everything moving fast, a week of Jungwon, a week of slow and dreadful acceptance, and a week of smelling nothing but faint, ever so slight, cinnamon.

By now you know it’s him. Like he’s truly dug his claws into you and doesn’t intend to let you forget all that he took from you. Always that fucking smell, from the first night you met him until now. Yet he is nowhere to be seen, even when you stare at the cathedral after the sun goes down.

No one has left. No one has gone inside.

Part of you even found yourself worrying if he’s eaten. Hah. Funny.

Still, you’re forced to live in reality now. Nothing but healing wounds, meaningful days, and reminders that you let yourself fall as quickly and painfully as possible.

You’re entirely dissociated, as if you’re gliding rather than walking, as if each day passes in a second rather than a twenty four hour time span, as if you’re truly empty now and not filled with the blood you thought meant so much.

Somehow, you find comfort in the emptiness though. Jungwon fills the space as best he can too. He always accepts your rejections of going to update Jay at the club just to sit between your legs on the living room floor and try to make you laugh through silly faces riddled with concern.

You assume he’s in contact with Jay anyway, letting him know that you’re not quite dead yet.

The days blur together now, up until two weeks pass, three weeks, four, five weeks.

Thankfully, by the fifth week, it’s gotten easier. Each day you just have to remind yourself that you can never forget Jungwon again like you did before. He’s the one who helped you through this, and to think you’d ever make him go through this again is insane. In fact, he’s the reason you finally feel good inside again.

He’s like medicine, which is cringe and lame as fuck to say but it’s true. Internally, he’s made you feel better. Yet, right beside all those happy warm feelings lies everything else. Distress, sadness, anxiety.

They still seep out of you too. Every night, really, after the daytime wears off and Jungwon runs out of things to distract you with.

“Why do you have to look at me like that?” Jungwon says sweetly, sprawled out on your bed in his pajamas as he watches you pace around your room. “I swear, it’s like everything I say to you goes through one ear and out the other.”

You pause in your step, sad eyes reaching his face.

“I already told you I’m not going home.” He repeats himself for what feels like the thousandth time to you. “I’m still getting paid, I have enough to last me if you let me stay here before finding work.”

After all, it’s not like Jungwon has anything to go back home to. Save for an annoying sister who probably wanted him to move the fuck out of her space anyway. He’s the last person on this earth to be afraid to up and move out with a near stranger.

You’re not so much a stranger to him though, and the need to be by your side far outweighs anything else right now.

“Yeah, but, eventually.”

Never have you been one to worry about fleeting time. Never until you met that dead motherfucker. You worry about not what is happening, but what will happen. The inevitable. You no longer welcome it.

It’s not death that brings the anxiety though, it’s just…the clock.

With the ticking, the tocking, and the changing of seasons. Everything lasts both too long and not long enough. At this moment, the fear is Jungwon leaving at some point in your life. For any reason at all, really.

He’s been by your side since you found your way back to him. A nuisance at times, yes, but you’re attached. To an unhealthy degree, you are fucking attached to him at the hip. He’s your only grounding force on this earth and you think he’s picking up on it.

To the point he’s offered to drop his entire life an hour away just to stay for you.

Yes, Jungwon recognizes how toxic and unhealthy the friendship has become, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t just leave, nor does he want to. Even if he’s the one who leaves to get your mail, he’s the one who cooks, and he’s the one who holds you close at night, reminding you that time doesn’t have to mean a damn thing if you try hard enough to forget about the man who doesn’t experience it at all.

There’s no way you can get through a single day without him right now, and the thought of having to do it in the future scares you.

You know it’s pathetic. You know you have no right to keep him in a box next to you as a comfort, you know he’s still got a life to live and romance to find. But…you hate it.

“Eventually what?” He quirks a brow at you, having been concerned for you and the shift in your entire personality yet again tonight. You’ve changed for the worse, and it terrifies him to see you act so gone.

“You’re gonna leave me here alone.” Your voice is small, cracking when you say it only because you hear the words ring in your ears.

A pathetic whine, as if you’re speaking to someone else and not Jungwon. You’re not you anymore. No, you’ve become obsessed with the looping memories and feelings that took a mere four days to fall in love with.

Addicted to emptiness but begging for Jungwon to forever be the crutch you stand on.

You’re selfish and you have no fucking right to do this to him.

“Hey…” He rolls out of bed and steps up to you, easily putting a soothing hand against your shoulder. “Do you want me to stay?”

You nod. Knowing this same situation happens nearly every night. You panic, he soothes. You beg, he reminds you that he’s the one who offered in the first place. You ask him to stay, he confirms by asking you to let him.

And to him, he knows this is anything but a romantic partnership. You very much need someone here who is willing to play dumb but remain hyper aware. He wants to be this person for you because of his own selfish reasons too.

It’s not all for you.

For one, he wants the girl back that he met last month. Secondly, he wants to see you learn and grow, because he knows you have a long and beautiful life ahead of you (and he better be fucking part of it.) And lastly, he’s never felt needed like this and there’s something in him that craves to be important too.

It’s not too difficult for Jungwon to find people that’s important to him. Really, it never takes much. Perhaps someone held the door open for him, he’d probably jump in front of a bus for that person not two seconds later. But to feel just as important to someone else?

He needs to be here with you. As toxic as it may seem to outsiders, Jungwon sees nothing wrong with being the person you need simply because you’re the person he needs too.

“Then stop saying stupid shit.” He mopes now as he pulls you back to your bed and holds you much like he always does, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re always okay at work, but I swear the second we come home you’re falling apart.”

You freeze, falling apart instantly.

“I wish you’d tell me what happened.” He says now, jumping into the typical routine of calming and soothing you. “I don’t know what to do when you get like this.”

You wish you would tell him too.

But if he knew, that hope of ever seeing Sunghoon again would crumble. Already, Jungwon swears to you that he will never let this happen to you again. But you want it to, so, so badly.

Even if you’re taking advantage of his care by letting him treat you like a child who can’t escape a tantrum, he really flipped his whole life because you chose to live in a crisis.

You chose to do this to yourself and to Jungwon.

Finally, you look up at him with your fingers gripping him.

“I ask so much from you.” You sniffle when you say it, immediately calming yourself and feeling like a fucking idiot for doing this. “I feel like I’m going insane.”

He nods.

“You kind of are.” He confirms for you. “And you have to talk about it eventually, it’s just going to keep hurting if you don’t.”

He’s right. He’s always right.

And like always, every single time you imagine how you’ll tell him, nothing in your brain can form a sentence. But you do try and by now, accustomed to your pain, you feel like something needs to be said before he grows tired of you too.

“I don’t know why, but I wanted him to kill me so badly.”

Saying it out loud doesn’t feel as good as you wanted it to, not with the way Jungwon’s face immediately contorts into panic.

“Wha-”

“But he wouldn’t do it.” You shake your head, refusing eye contact. “He’d do it to everyone else, but not to me.”

“Wait, what?”

Maybe choosing to say that of all things was a mistake. After all, you did appear stumbling down the street near death already. Jungwon isn’t going to take what you’re saying lightly and you were stupid to believe otherwise.

“Have you ever smelled cinnamon?” You continue, trying to skew the conversation from his panic.

Jungwon is flipping his shit trying to make sense of your words. You wanted this guy to kill you? Well, he damn near fucking did and even now, while he’s not around, you’re practically dead already in terms of everything but breathing. And what the fuck do you mean he’d do it to everyone else?!

Are you referring to an emotional death? Trying to make this shit sound poetic? Or did you really want to die?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jungwon’s voice is stern but shaky. “Kill you how?”

You shake your head.

“I don’t know.” You offer, knowing you’re just making it worse. “I wanted him to want me that badly.”

Jungwon drops his arms from you to pull back, dead-pan staring at you because he doesn’t know what to do or say to that. He forces himself to think of the reality of the situation. You’re just being poetic. You’re just being dramatic.

He’s the same way when someone hurts him too, but still. Using such heavy words scares him, and he can’t just sit here and tell you it’ll be okay anymore.

“But he doesn't.” Jungwon musters up the courage to say it, knowing you’re going to cry. “This weirdo literally tried to eat you alive, and he still doesn’t want you.”

And you do cry again.

“And now, you’re letting him kill you anyway?” Jungwon scoffs. “You’re begging me to stay here with you, just so I can watch you not even make an attempt to fucking get over it?”

You know he’s telling you what you need to hear, doesn’t change the fact that you don’t want to hear it. The only thing you want to hear is Sunghoon and his lying words, telling you that Jungwon is full of shit.

The worst part about it is that, it’s not even that you’re suicidal. You’re not. You like being alive. You’re just…you don’t know. You don’t fucking know why you wanted and still want Sunghoon to kill you.

Perhaps it’s because it would mean he needs you that much.

But he doesn’t need you, you’re not irresistible.

And that hurts you. That man fucking slithered into your heart and made a nest there. You can’t get him out no matter how much you try.

“He broke up with you. You were together for like, what? A few days?” Jungwon minimizes the situation unintentionally, panicking at the way a person he’s grown so close to has managed to be utterly fucking ripped apart by a singular man. “He broke up with you. That’s it. It’s time to stand up and move on, there’s better people out there that–”

“No.” You shake your head. “I broke up with him, I guess, if you can call it that.”

Jungwon softens, tilting his head. Now he’s getting somewhere.

“Why, then? Why did you break up with him when you didn’t want to?” Still, Jungwon is glad you chose to. Clearly you’re not as absent minded as you pretend to be. Seeing how littered your body was with pain, you knew you needed to leave, right? You weren’t really just going to let this guy wither you away, right?

“He was with someone else.”

Jungwon shakes his head in pity.

“What a scumbag. A total freak.”

“But like, he needed to do it, I guess.” You try to explain without truly explaining. “I got mad and left because he was doing something he needed to do with someone that wasn’t me.”

“He needed to cheat on you? Are you hearing yourself?” Jungwon questions, throwing his arms up. “He’s a nympho, babe, he probably manipulated the fuck out of you to make you think this way.”

And at that, you give up on talking about it. You feel too tired to continue.

“I guess so.” You whisper out with a shrug, sniffling up the tears.

“He doesn’t deserve you. You can’t just…die for people.” Jungwon says, realizing that even he doesn’t follow his own advice. He’d probably die for you himself, but not because he craves it.

He’ll never understand why you wanted this man to “kill” you. In whatever way you meant, no one is worth owning that much of you.

Jungwon hums though, knowing you’re tired now. He isn’t exactly being as soothing as he’d like to be right now but never has he seen a person act like this over a break up. Cheating hurts, of course, but you barely knew this guy. There’s no way there isn’t something else going on for you to say such insane fucking things.

“You must’ve lost your damn mind to let someone do that to you.” Jungwon says against your hair, his soft voice not matching his words in the slightest. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Me either.” You admit, feeling the insanity bubbling in your stomach and hating it.

Still, the scent of cinnamon.

“Do you smell it though?” You ask now, voice even weaker.

Jungwon inhales deeply, releasing his breath with all of the frustration in his gut.

You feel it fan across your cheek warmly, minty, and you smile.

“Cinnamon?” He asks, remembering your question from before. “Yeah, sometimes I can smell it.”

You smile bigger now.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Another two weeks pass, only this time you are coming back to yourself. Which is strange, really. You were beginning to think you’d never feel like a person again after the first month passed. Then, within another few weeks you’re almost entirely back to yourself.

You’re still a bit dissociated, which is likely due to the trauma of what you experienced and put yourself through but thankfully, the ticking-time spans you grew to hate forces itself now to be your new form of comfort. With each passing second, hour, day, and week, you’re slowly able to not forget, but accept and move on.

Still, you know it’s going to fuck you up for years to come. You’ll always have the feeling of emptiness deep inside no matter how much the space shrinks. You have no choice now but to try and fill your life and time with things and people who matter to you. At least this way, you know that you matter too.

And with this time spent away and healing, the scent has faded too. You can even go to work now without holding your breath or your eyes being forced to look at the source of the smell. In fact, you avoid taking even a glimpse of the looming cathedral. You don’t keep cinnamon in your apartment now either. You don’t take it with any of your beverages or food items, and you certainly shouldn’t be smelling it in the air anymore.

Sometimes it’s still there though, turning your stomach in a way that’s both needy and sick. You still miss him and the feeling of ice, but you know better now. Why give up the ability to breathe without your throat burning? Why give up being a person that Jungwon actually wants to be around now?

After all, you’ve started feeling so much better to the point that even he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time. Showers are back to being private, you can check your own mail, and a few times you were even able to go to work without him trying to force his way inside like his installation was still sitting on display.

Which, it isn’t, by the way. Your boss had his name and face blacklisted, but still on most days he waltzed in like he owned the place. Every single time buckling the knees of your boss, every single time being allowed to stay.

Thankfully, push came to shove and he landed himself a job there with you, his employment became official just today, actually. And as professional as the place was for you when you approached with your resume, it’s definitely not professional at all. They did pay Jungwon under the table several times just for doing shit you were supposed to be doing.

The point is, even if Jungwon wasn’t able to make the effort to keep good on his word regarding moving into your apartment to stay beside you, he still likely would have pushed to at least work with you.

Thankfully, he gets to do both those things.

And despite the fact that he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time, there’s still an immense amount of anxiety about being away from you for too long. He knows that in time, it’ll pass and the two of you can live both near each other and apart, but for now? Might as well call him your husband because there’s no way in hell he’s gonna be doing his own thing without you.

That leads to now. The same day Jungwon secured his employment, the same day you made it through without a single breakdown, the same night Jungwon needs to actually go back home to move his shit into this apartment with you.

“Come with me.” Jungwon comments, but you know it’s more of a demand. “You can meet my sister, just ignore if she makes jokes about us dating or something.”

You laugh. Genuinely, you laugh.

“Jokes? We both know you’re in love with me Jungwon. I’m just waiting for the ring at this point.”

He laughs with a shrug, knowing he probably would marry you at this point, if just to protect you from all the people who wouldn’t care for you as much as he does.

“Really though, come with me?” He asks again. “I’m still a little worried about leaving you here.”

“You’ll be back in the morning,” You start, trying to calm him down. You genuinely do feel okay right now. “I’ll just be sleeping the whole time, I'm tired anyway.”

Jungwon nods fondly, aware that it’s only practical that he make the move during the night hours. After all, his sister won’t be home otherwise and he does miss her. It’s true that you’ll probably just go to bed and he’ll be back before you even wake up tomorrow.

Still.

“You could just sleep in my old ro–”

“Wonnie.” You walk up to him and grab his face with both hands. “I’m fine.”

He smiles at you, always loving the way you do your best to reassure him even through your worst breakdowns. You’re not breaking down right now though, and he can’t help but believe every word you say when you’re looking at him like this.

“I swear to god if I come home and you so much as have a single bite mark on you, I’m burning this fucking city to the ground.”

You roll your eyes, the memory stinging only a little bit. By now though, you’ve almost entirely forgotten how it felt in the first place.

In fact, you’re shocked by the way you acted after leaving. So outside of yourself. Truly, you think you were going insane and Jungwon was right to confirm that for you. You’re lucky you had him here with you, because you likely would have ran right back into that fucking cathedral and–

Yeah. You would have done something dramatic.

You didn’t though. And sure, you now know vampires exist or whatever but Sunghoon has not bothered you even once since you left. You hope he’s simply moved on so that your resolve doesn’t break. Jungwon worked so hard to make you feel better, and you worked just as hard. You can’t just feel bad that you don’t remember what Sunghoon’s fangs felt like against your skin.

If anything, you hope Sunghoon is freaked out by you leaving and knowing his secret. Maybe he thinks that if he tries to approach you again, you’ll tell everyone about what he is and what he did. Not that it would end with him in jail or anything. You’d probably end up in an asylum, actually, but still.

And to Jungwon’s threats of arson, you simply pinch his cheek, being sure to sit your thumb right in his dimple.

“Strictly no vampire kinks.” You smile at him, crossing both of your arms in front of yourself to create an X.

“Good.” Jungwon nods back as he puts on his shoes and heads for the door. “Call me if you need anything, I’ll keep my volume turned up. You’ve got Jay’s number too, he can be here quickly if it’s an emergency.”

He feels content knowing that you’re about to be stuck with him for as long as he can manage. It’s just one short trip back home. A mere six or seven hours spent away while he packs the shit his sister probably “forgot” to box up for him, loading up the rented van, and then unloading it here.

It’s just a short trip. You’ll be sleeping through it anyway.

And when he’s gone, you feel tired. Keeping good on your promise of going to bed almost immediately. The feeling of being alone for the night is a bit uncomfortable, so sleep comes easy as a means to escape the inevitable over-thinking you’d probably do otherwise.

No overthinking.

It’s just a short trip.

Jungwon will be back before you wake up.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah, to think it’s over.

To think he’d leave you be? To think he wouldn’t be looming around every corner watching, waiting? If it weren’t for Jungwon, these weeks wouldn’t have passed so easily for you, that much is certain.

As if they were easy for you to get through at all. Jungwon, the very person who got you through it, was the reason he stayed away, the reason you were able to heal.

Jungwon was the ward.

Was.

Deep in your sleep it’s like your body knows. The same scent fills your nose just seconds after your sleep brain feels the goosebumps spread across your skin. Instantly, you wake up and back to insanity you go

You truly wake up.

Your legs aren’t being carried by any force other than you own, and your mind is crisp and clear in your thoughts as you jump out of bed.

Not walking, running to your apartment door. You swing open the door and don’t even look at him before slamming your entire weight against his chest and clinging like a lost child. You can feel the familiar cold fear filling your body, knowing that if he truly wanted to, he could kill you right now.

All of the progress you made burns away within seconds. You’ve never felt so elated to ruin your own life.

Even when he pushes you away, nothing at this moment could make you let him go. He’s here, he’s standing right there. Your fingers grip as he pushes you back in silence, stretching his garment out far beyond the bounds of which it was sewn to withstand. It rips, and still he shoves you further back from him all while stalking forward.

Walking you back into your apartment, just to let the door slam behind him as he stands with a narrowed gaze fixated on you.

You glance up at him only for a moment, loving the crazed look in his eye. Adoring that he must have missed you to appear so full of life like this. You can only compare his eyes now to the same eyes you saw when you ran away from him.

As if they were burning on you. Or perhaps, for you?

He’s dangerous, your body feels it instantly and all you can do is lean into it.

“That’s all it took for you to leave me?” Sunghoon bellows out in a spiteful voice, the sound sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “Had your blood boiling over some minx? I told you I didn’t want you witnessing it.”

You soak in his voice like it’s your last supper, missing it so badly, adoring it even more. He speaks as if weeks haven’t passed, as if it’s a mere hour after you ran from him. You move forward to cling again, unable to think of words to say and opting to show how much you regret leaving through your actions.

Still, he pushes you away from him. A bit harder this time, to the point you almost topple over onto your back. You keep your balance only because it feels like you’re fucking floating just looking at him right now.

“I tried to pull you back to me, why did you fight it so hard?” He continues to fuss, as if he’s been thinking over and over again about all the words he wants to spit at you. Like he’s punishing you, and yet still struggling himself not to cling back. “Never has your aroma been so empty, so faint.”

You’re in shock but your body yearns for him, thankful to go back to square one. Like you’re special. Like you meant something enough to him that he’s here looking like he may give you what you’ve wanted all along.

“Countless women. Countless men. Never you, and now you manage to hide from me?” His hand shoots to your neck, pushing you back further into your apartment. “How?” He grips dangerously tight as he continues to spew his breathless words. “You masked yourself with that– that floral boy, didn’t you?”

You listen to his spiteful words like your favorite song, falling into each vibration of his vowels and consonants. Never has he spoken so much, and never have you heard his voice waver the way it is now. You can’t help but follow his movements with a smile on your face, swallowing through this tight grip on your throat.

“You cannot fathom how hard it was to stop. Do you understand how much I want to fuck every last drop out of you? You should be thanking me.”

Oh, you’re so proud. So, so, fucking proud. The glee runs through you at his needy words, even if you know better. He’ll always feed on people who aren’t you, and he’ll always probably fuck them too.

But does he show up at their house? Does he grow frustrated with them like this too?

“Did you kill her when you were done?” You ask out through his choking hand, so confident that it makes him freeze on the spot.

He’s genuinely shocked that you’re not scared. You’re not intimidated. You don’t feel bad. No, you feel proud of being hunted. Like you take enjoyment out of his suffering, much like he does for you.

On his part, it’s not intentional. You have to suffer to be next to him.

Never has a person made him suffer too though. Fucking never would he have allowed it. God, he’s infatuated with you, utterly obsessed.

“Of course I killed her.” Sunghoon admits with his brow rising up, feeding into your ecstatic reaction of his death grip on you, only gripping tighter now. “Does that please you?”

You’ve never been happier.

And he moans out at the way you shyly nod, seemingly experiencing euphoria at his admittance of murder. Oh, if only you knew how good you smelled that night. Blood pumping for him, blood boiling in emotion for him. The woman didn’t last more than a minute after you left him. He couldn’t resist at that point.

Seeing you, smelling you, fucking someone who he wished could have been you.

He’s not prepared at all for this, for you. So willing, wanting what he’s trying to avoid doing to you.

That’s why he’s here though. Unprepared, but unable to resist any longer. He has pulled and pulled, every single day trying to lure you back to him against your will. He thought he was going to have to take you tonight against your wishes.

But your eyes are sparkling for him.

“No one’s heart has ever beat quite like yours when looking at me.” Sunghoon whispers now, falling and spiraling into this moment with you, losing his composure entirely. “So loud, each pump fucking gushes.”

“And I'll chase it every time.” He continues to ramble in a way that sounds like he’s in physical pain, like the amount of time you’ve stayed away from him genuinely hurts him.

You still can’t respond though, your words are caught up in your throat right where his hand squeezes and you couldn’t even if you wanted to. He knows it too, and he didn’t intend to let you answer anyway because genuinely, he’s fucking losing himself.

His hungry lips chase forward near instant after saying those words to you, not biting, just kissing. Tasting you rather than the blood that drives him.

Because for some reason, that’s what he craves right now.

“I beg.” He cries out against your tongue, relishing in the feeling of your life clutched in his hands, not even sure himself of what he’s begging for.

“Sunghoon,” You choke out his name with a gentle voice, pulling back from his bruising lips and throwing your arms up around his shoulders. “I bet you could smell my heart shatter too.”

He moans at the strained words first and the out of body experience you lend to him second. His soul is always trapped within this dead skin, but you ascend him.

Here, standing with his hands on your throat, you hold him? You say sly, mocking words? Oh, he can give you the world. He can give you anything you want. He can be whatever you want. Never has a person had this hold on him, and never could another person be able to do what you do.

He can’t just let you go. He tried already. He’s supposed to be the one with the ability to hunt, lure, and pull. How is it that you do it to him? Your blood alone does it. The fact that all you need to do is exist within the same city and he’s ripping his bedroom walls apart wanting to get at you? He needs you.

No. You’re not going anywhere this time. He’ll give up the taste of your sweet blood if he has to. The taste of your wet tongue is enough to satiate him by this point. The feeling of your neck beneath his hands, your pretty eyes urging him to strangle the life out of you.

He’d do it too. All you’d have to do is ask. He would do anything for you at this moment, no matter the cost. He will take anything you offer.

“Oh–” He groans first, licking his lips. “I could almost taste it.” His eyes darken more, somehow, as he leads you through the apartment. All the way until that same gaze causes your legs to buckle. He can’t help it by this point, after all, he knew coming here would end up this way.

There’s no self control when his hands release your neck, your buckled legs forcing you to fall against the floor, and he gladly topples with you. His hands immediately shoot to either side of your head, holding himself up just so he can dip down and inhale you.

Fuck, he missed the way your skin smells more than he remembers. And trust, missing you was a daunting experience for him before he got here.

He inhales all over you, again and again. He trails his nose against both sides of your neck, up your cheek, into your hair, down to your neck again.

“So delicious.” He moans mindlessly. “Never have I missed someone so terribly.”

“You were with someone else.” You continue your confident scolding with a scoff, only because of the way he’s losing himself on you. This is all you could ever want and reminding him of why you left feels elating.

“My love,” He starts, speaking right up against your ear as one of his hands trails from your cheek to your waist. “My loyalty to your life is what I offered.”

Goddamn the confidence running through you smells stronger than anything he’s ever experienced. As if you didn’t already drive him to do things he never once considered. Oh, now? With you like this? He would die ten times more for you and you alone, if he could, anyway.

“Do you not recognize that I would have drained you to death, if I didn’t want you here with me?”

He lifts his head now, looking at you with so much adoration.

“You’re not a simple meal, when will you understand that?”

And when you snicker at his desperate praise, he cannot fucking control the feelings within him.

“Your little floral friend is going to be devastated,” He admits with a rumbled voice, alluding to the inevitability of him coming here tonight. “You’ve begged me for this, and now I’m begging you.”

You pause, feeling the butterflies in your stomach release in a deep breath.

“Die for me.” Sunghoon whispers, dragging that same wandering hand straight between your legs and dipping into the wet heat he’s been missing so badly. No blood, just thick, hot, wet slick. “I beg.”

You can barely comprehend his words through that ice cold feeling of his fingers pressing into you. He hums in the silence, looking straight into your eyes with the question. He’s very aware of the weight behind it too.

“My love, please.” He continues, losing composure by the seconds as he feels how warm your wet walls are hugging his fingers. “Not in a thousand years have I wanted someone more than you.”

He continues pressing his fingers in, moaning himself at how good it feels, only to feel your moan fan against his cheeks in turn. It’s something that drives him only further from the self-control he fought so hard to keep. That warm breath represents the life within you that he intends to snuff out. If at all, to keep you forever.

“And not for a thousand years more–” He’s starting to babble, his once clear thoughts racing at being surrounded by everything that is you. “Please.”

And his fingers only quicken with his thoughts, rendering you unable to answer even if you tried. The idea and confirmation in his head of not truly killing you drives him wild. It would be death, nonetheless, but not true death. For weeks he has suffered over the thoughts, always telling himself that he would never fate someone to a death such as his own.

But you, oh you. The sublime blood within you pulled him harder than he believes he pulled you. Never in his thousands of years has he experienced such a thing, nor did he know such blood existed within a person. It drives him to feel for you. To adore you. To be entirely enamored with the fact that you have shattered him from within at both the thought of losing your blood, but wanting to take all of it.

Still, he craves the taste of you to such an extent that you truly will die tonight, whether it’s against your will or not. It’s too late for him to reason with himself, feeling your walls wrapped around his fingers, seeing you act so mischievous towards his antics from before. At this point, just a blink of time compared to how long he’s lived, the decision is clearer than anything he thinks he’s ever had to choose.

If he can’t have all of your blood, you’ll waste it on a death not nearly as beautiful as he can offer.

If he can have all of your blood, perhaps he doesn’t have to lose you along with it. After all, it’s not just the blood at this point that makes him feel like a blood-drunk beast. No, no, no. It’s everything that is you. Your skin, the secretions of your body, the way your hands grip and the way your eyes blink. Blood-drunk, yes, but more so just drunk on you.

He can settle without the breath and without the blood if you’re willing to share meals with him for the remainder of time this earth has in the universe.

Sunghoon’s mind is racing at the thought. Working too fast for him to focus on everything at once, but he tries. Tucking his fingers deep, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaling as deeply as he can.

You’re feeling like you’re on top of the world in the way he falls apart on you, unable to comprehend that this is actually happening. Every word he’s said to you rings in your ears as if it were spoken in a language you can’t understand. With his fingers working you open, with his lips on your skin rather than his fangs…

You feel…different. Like he feels differently.

And you can’t stop yourself from basking in the thought that he killed that woman. What was once jealousy that he didn’t want you enough to kill you has twisted and morphed into the thought that he kept you alive because he couldn’t stand not having you.

Every whispered word confirms it, and still you can’t comprehend fully what it is he’s trying to say.

So, you focus and try to comprehend the feeling in your body that he’s offering instead. You have yearned for this cold within you. Missed it so badly you went insane.

To think you’d ever truly get over him is arguably more insane than wanting him to kill you at all.

“Did you hear me?” He whispers against your ear, shoulders shifting with each plunge of his fingers, other hand clinging to your waist so tightly, almost pulling you to him. “You could be beside me,” He moves his lips across your neck, resting his lips against the moan you let out. “Forever.”

Oh, it clicks.

And just as it clicks, he can hear your heart rate gushing the same blood he intends to take from you in full. Gushing, rushing through each vein and valve within you. Oh, he could truly devour you whole with how you’ve deprived him of this. He could leave not a trace of you left for the world to remember, but no. That would be worse than the beheadings that haunt his nightly visions.

The sound of it rushing through you, god, it makes him feel like a mad man. He can’t help but prevent your timid answers in the midst of red hot desire. He pulls his hand out of you, spreading his palm against your healed thighs instead and spreads your legs out wide from under him.

He’s quick to move down. No kissing, no biting, nothing like what he wants to do. He needs to satiate his desire somehow, and he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of your blood until the time comes.

And when he pulls your sleep-shorts and panties off of you, he’s immediately licking a languid stripe up your glistening cunt. He remembers how it looked in red, the thought sending his body into overdrive at the taste of you now compared to that night.

Still so sweet. Almost as good as the blood. Ah, it serves as a reminder that perhaps he can give up the blood after taking it from you. This alone is enough. So creamy, so slippery.

Yes, yes. A confirmation. It’s you, not just your blood. It’s you he won’t live without. Your mind, your voice, the wet you spill, the cum you’ll let him fuck out of you.

It’s always you.

And he hums into it, licking into you as far as his tongue can manage. He braces both hands on your thighs just to spread them further, skewing his head to reach deeper, deeper, fucking deeper. Tasting you, smelling you, utterly obsessed with you.

All you can do is shoot your hands down, forever waiting to feel his teeth sink into you but only feeling pleasure. So much pleasure. All of his freezing body parts just send consistent shivers up and down your spine. It’s like you can feel him under your skin when he does this, even with his hair tangled in your fingers as if you’re appreciating him for all of it.

It’s so good. With the way he doesn’t need to breathe. He keeps his tongue in you, and even still you feel as if you don’t need your clit stimulated at all with the way he’s working his mouth so aggressively. And it’s good with the way his fingernails dig into your skin not yet enough to cause blood, unlike before. Good with the way he hums into you through it all, the same way he did when he’d feed on you.

Ah, it’s just, it’s good. It’s dreamy. All of it feels like a fantasy up until he does pull back.

You look down in time with him looking up, those pretty eyes no longer looming and dark. Still crazed to an extent but you know they’re for you.

“Sunghoon,” You whisper out, watching him closely with the way his eyes roll back at even hearing his name on your tongue so prettily. “Why aren’t you feeding?”

You feel his fingernails leave more half moon shapes in your skin at the question. His eyes open in a half-lidded stare at you now, lips falling slack.

He looks so pretty, with the wet coating of his plush and pretty lips, your hands still tangled in his hair.

He still just looks at you. He doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink, and doesn’t answer.

“You’re so quiet now.” You comment, feeling shy with the way he stares at you rather than your open pussy right in front of his mouth. “Say something.”

And within a single blink, his face is right up against yours, one hand still keeping your leg spread open, the other pinching your chin as he continues to stare.

“Let me have you.”

You hear his words clearly this time, breath caught in your throat up until he kisses it out of you. He breathes you in deeply, trying to drown himself in all that is your life before what he will inevitably do.

“Let me.” He pleads again, his eyebrows falling as if he’s in genuine pain to say it.

Your arms reach around his neck, staring at him with so much confirmation in your eyes. You’d let him have anything he wants. Anything.

And he groans at you, releasing your chin just to reach down to get his length out, appearing as though looking at you like this alone is enough to make him crumble to dust. He’s been aching this whole time too, since before he even left the cathedral. Borderline edging himself from both the pleasure of your body wrapped around him and the pleasure within you that would satiate his hunger just for a moment.

He misses the feeling of you so badly. The warmth, the slide, the way you cling to him like nothing he could do would scare you.

Just….one last time, he wants to feel warm.

And he chases for the heat inside of you, sliding in without breaking eye contact, without waiting, without savoring it.

It knocks the breath out of you again, forgetting just how cold it is when he settles in deep. So fucking deep.

You wince in pain before moaning out to him, whispering his name in a drawn out sigh.

“Ah, my love,” He groans at your reaction, his hips immediately moving. “My pretty, pretty, love.” Your walls hug him so perfectly, taking every inch with just a tiny wince. “Will you still sound so lovely?”

You don’t understand the question, but you nod to him, wanting nothing more in this moment than to prove your worth to him. To please him.

Such an insane woman, he thinks. Letting him take you and have you in whatever way he wishes. Whether living or dead, he truly believes every mindless nod you give to him. It’s clear, you’re just as deeply infatuated with him as he is with you.

Both of you would give and take happily, no matter what it is.

And fuck he can feel your living pulse against him with each fast and torturous thrust, snapping his hips so quickly into you. He can’t help but fuck hard and with purpose. Slamming in and out with echoed slaps and mindless groans.

Everything that you are could end him in an instant and all you can do is moan out for more.

Oh, he gives it. Of course he does. He will give you anything. Everything.

And it only becomes harder to resist when he kisses against your lips again, swallowing each moan of his name, exhaling it back out to you with the sound of your name. A mantra of two people, facing only death together and loving every heart-wrenching second of it.

The cold within you flourishes with each sound in his throat, you squeeze around him, your legs hug against him, your arms wrap tightly against his neck as he kisses you. Your body can’t withstand the speed of his cock slamming into you for much longer without coming undone.

And he doesn’t stop, seemingly never growing tired. Up until he feels your body clench entirely around him, he clings back at you at the feeling, whispering handsome words and proud promises.

“Already?” He grunted out first, hearing your blood rush and your muscles tense. “Ah, can hear it rushing through you, let it go, love.”

And you do, you let it go despite wanting it to last longer. So, so much longer.

He lends you a choked and inward groan at the way you react to his relentless thrusts, flexing his abs and pointing his cock as deeply into you as he can reach. And for the second time, Sunghoon feels the warmth of you spill over him. Prettier than the blood, your voice so, so, sexy choking out a string of curses just for his ears to adore.

“There you go.” He coos through it with his own groans, savoring every squeeze and squelch, adoring the sounds you make for him.

And as he watches, he can’t help the feeling inside of him. Your heart is beating so fast through the pleasure only he can offer you, and he keeps doing it. Fucking you through the orgasm only to not stop after the fact either.

It’ll be the last time he’ll ever feel heat like this on him. He can fuck any and every victim, but none will feel as good as you. Partially because you aren’t being manipulated, he has no hold on your mind right now. You’re not gripping and moaning because you’re in a daze, you’re doing it because you fucking want it.

God, having sex for the sake of sex is something he hasn’t done in a long time before you. Enjoying in the pleasure, fucking suffering through all of it. Truly, for him, if this is the last time your body will be warm, he’s going to take his goddamn time making sure you’re well aware of just how good you could have it if you let him keep you forever. Cold and dead, he’ll still love the feeling of your body.

So much that still, even with your orgasm dripping all over him, he pushes and he pushes. Thinking only of how he plans to drain you in more ways than once tonight. He can hold off for as long as he can with his own pleasure, because this alone is fucking bliss.

And he doesn’t care if he’s knocking the breath out of you, only because he knows that soon enough, you’ll never have to worry about breathing again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re unsure as to how long Sunghoon has been lying with you like this, but you were able to get a bit of rest against him. Even with your fingers feeling like ice wrapped up in his, you feel safe and at home here.

Not because you are at home, but because he’s here with you.

The night outside your window tells you that you’ve not been sleeping for long, but you can barely recall coming to your bedroom at all with him. He must have carried you here and cuddled himself up against you.

You stir in his grasp, peeking an eye up at him.

“You’ve rested enough?” Sunghoon smiles at you with saddened eyes, his pupils still blown and hair an absolute mess.

You shift against him, turning to face him entirely.

As he looks at you, all he can do is remind himself that he’s never considered fating someone with this curse until finding you. With your pretty jealous words and your intense need to have him take you out of this world all together. Never has he given the chance for another person to know him so deeply and have them react with only fondness and desire.

This is his chance, isn’t it? To find forever?

As monstrous as he is, he does still have desire. The feeling of loneliness isn’t meant to be grown accustomed to. For him at least. All of his fellow vampires have companions, and he swore he’d never do that to another person.

Perhaps it’s because many of the vampires he has mingled with took their companions by force. He could see the disdain in their eyes, and that’s not something he thinks he could live with. But you don’t look at him like that. You slept soundly next to a man wanting to kill you. Actively struggling not to do it with each and every breath you take.

And oh, since the start of his curse, the need to taste that last famed drop lured him to every meal he’s feasted on up until now. Such a delicious flavor, truly the best sensation running down his throat. To have you offer that last little sip to him? Ah, fuck.

The feeling in his stomach flutters at the thought of turning someone for the first time. Knowing that someone will be you. Knowing that you wouldn’t be a companion filled with resentment and agony at your new life.

It’s electrifying. Like his heart could beat again at any second because you truly make him feel like he’s never experienced death at all. Despite being surrounded by it, despite experiencing it himself, despite taking lives daily for thousands of years.

It’s amazing to him, to love someone so much he’s willing to fate them with eternal thirst, congealed blood, glitter and gold, beautiful and ugly, accidental lures before intentional ones.

Death.

Vile, cold, damp skin. Safe light of the moon, dust in the sun. The only threat is that of life itself.

Light. Sharp pointed dogwood stakes. Beheadings.

But…a companion.

The life he could live with you, oh the joy that runs through him is far too beautiful. The forever life. Eternity. Living through it all, far surpassing the roaches and bacteria of this earth. With you.

So many things you’ve forced him to understand. Loneliness, despair, want, need, envy. It’s been so long since he’s entertained petty mortal feelings, but you forced them into him and out of him. The only need he’s grown accustomed to was hunger and thirst. Never love, or warmth, or want.

Oh, forever. The two of you could starve after draining every living soul. All it takes is for him to take that last gush of blood from you.

Without the lure. Without the manipulation.

Never would he perform the rite without your pleasant voice telling him to. Never would he want to spend eternity with a woman so luring who would want nothing more than to be the blade slicing through the bone in his neck.

That legendary, utterly delicious, last drop of blood that he’s tasted so many times before. It’s different this time only because the blood isn’t for him and him alone now. He has to share it, and it pains him to know that none would taste quite like yours.

The hardest part would be controlling his instinct of swallowing it instantly, rendering you dead and unmoving for the eternity he wishes to have you.

A new feeling.

Anxiety.

Your death would be slow, a cold and dreary one, but it wouldn’t be lonely. He’d make sure you feel so good through it. He wouldn’t spill a drop. You’d be clean, avoiding a gruesome death otherwise.

And time would be against him, because upon taking that last drop, he’d barely be able to savor it before continuing the rite. A final sip that he can’t even swallow. A final sip that must be fed to you. Blood leaving your veins only to slide down into your emptied stomach through dead lips.

There, a final exhale, and then forever inhales.

You’d look so beautiful dying next to him. He’d hold you through it.

Is fate so dreary in a moment like that? Where is he feeling something akin to love for the first time in lifetime after lifetime? Is he selfish to need you so badly?

“You could have it all.” He inhales the words at your drowsy face nearing sleep again. The silence you lended after his last comment kept him in his head, and now he wants out of it.

He hugs against you so tightly, trying to keep you awake despite knowing he likely fucked you too long and too hard. Still, he wants to encourage a life with him for you.

“I can give it all to you.”

You’re silent at his words as you listen to him. You soak them into your sleepy head and smile.

“Sunghoo-”

“I beg of you.” He answers for you, grabbing your face tightly and landing an immediate kiss against your lips. A deep kiss, one that…oh. He’s crying.

You feel the cold wet hit your cheeks as he kisses. He does it before you can even move your own lips against him, but you do start to kiss him back. Your brows furrow in concern at this new emotion he’s showing to you, but your handles are gentle when you caress his cheeks through it.

“Die for me.” He whispers through the kiss, trying not to let you pull back at the words. He knows now that you heard them loud and clear.

Oh.

Why is there nothing in this world that you want more?

“It’ll only hurt for a little while.” He tries to make it sound pretty with his soothing whispers, not yet realizing that he hasn’t cried in several centuries. “You’ll come back.”

“Are you asking me to–?” You breathe out for him, once, twice, and then never finish what you were trying to ask simply because he makes himself very clear.

“You can be like me, my love.”

Your body pulses in fear, but the adrenaline hits you in all the right spots as you break eye contact to cling instead, this time shoving your nose up and against his neck. Wanting nothing more than this dead skin, needing nothing more than a man who wants to kill you.

But Sunghoon doesn’t want to end you, no. He wants to keep you forever.

And forever is different with Sunghoon. It’s never ending.

Are you even prepared to never see an end? With the man whispering so sweetly to you? Absolutely.

Would a split second decision like this ruin your life forever? What's forever anyway? When you have many lives to ruin and many more to deem a success if you choose to go with him.

Die. Only to live forever?

You nod once, then you shake your head. His arms wrap around you tightly at your indecisiveness. He’s content enough just knowing you’re considering it and truly, he’s trying to be patient. Waiting and well aware that the question is likely the hardest decision you’ll ever need to make.

“I’ll beg again and again.” He whispers, feeling your panicked lips try to calm your breathing against his neck. Still, you’re clinging to him tightly and it makes him feel…happy. “I cannot fathom a death for you that’s not this. Forever gone from me.”

You shake your head again, but then…you nod.

“Will it hurt?” You ask, feeling your heart rate threaten to kill you before Sunghoon even gets the chance himself.

“Tremendously.” He chuckles at the ignorance, though even he barely remembers the pain himself these days.

“Only for a little while, darling. I told you.” He licks his lips, anticipating the blood running through you to run through him soon. The hunger is almost overcoming him now and if you don’t agree, he very well may end up killing you regardless.

And the thought pains him.

If there was ever a time to hold himself back, it’s now.

“Don’t die without me here with you. Now or ever.” He continues in a sweet voice, trying to control the wavering breaks his throat is trying to force out of him.

“Can I…” You stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can I have a minute to think?”

“Oh course,” He smiles to hide his frustration, pulling you back by your shoulders and sitting himself up against your bed. “But, the sun rises in three hours, and that’s three hours of fighting my urge to do it without your confirmation.”

You pause, finding comfort in the fact that he’s willing to suffer through your inevitable acceptance. There’s no way you’ll end up saying no to him, only because of how badly it hurt when you walked away from him. It rotted within you for weeks, and even when you thought you were better…all he had to do was stand outside your door to have you running to be in his arms.

What’s a bad decision when you could have lifetimes to make up for it? Even if said decision is what gives you those lifetimes. He’s asking for you to stay with him. To be with him. Isn’t that what you want?

But to die…

And you only cling to him through the fear, hoping he can save you from what he’s offering. He’s the comfort and the ultimate end.

Or, perhaps, the ultimate beginning.

You’re not sure. You only found out vampires are real like two months ago. It’s not exactly something you can comprehend so quickly, but it is something you know you want more than anything if it means you can be next to Sunghoon.

“Will it ease your fear if I talk about what it’s like to be me?” Sunghoon offers both a reason to give you insight, as well as distract his own mind during this moment of distress.

You nod immediately, hugging yourself so tightly to his side and trying to keep your nose up and against him simply because that brings you the most comfort. Smelling the faint cinnamon, feeling him against you.

“I’m the first of my family to reside here, but I’ve been here for thirty years. Commoners aren’t aware as I try to remain hidden save for when I need to hunt.” He starts, continuing after hearing the way your heart calms. “But, city officials know very well who I am, and where I come from.”

You listen, trying to take in his words as truth rather than fantasy.

“I was born in seventeen thirty eight, overseas. Every few hundred years I’ll relocate simply because it becomes boring watching the same country grow and be destroyed. I ran from many wars, have lived many lives.”

Oh. Okay.

“I know every language. I’ve lived every life you can imagine, worked every job you can think of to rid myself of boredom.”

“So you weren’t always pretending to be a priest?” You try to make light of the fear within you, almost, somehow, wanting to snort at his choice of current lifestyle.

“Ah, no.” He chuckles for you, rolling his eyes at how you mock him in the face of your own death. “I was a banker before this, I despised it. Only lasted about seven years before relocating here.”

A pause, you hear him chuckle.

“I really despise numbers.”

In the calmness of his voice, within his gentle grasp, you feel comfortable.

“Did you come for the cathedral?”

He nods, holding you against him even tighter.

“History is protected, whether it be land, buildings, or people. It felt fitting to be a priest if I was to stumble inside parading as a drunken man needing a place to stay.”

“How did you become, uh, what did she call you? Master?”

“Ah,” Another scoffed chuckle at your ignorance. “Did you believe them to be alive?”

You freeze, body stiffening at the shock. They were fucking dead?! This whole time?!

“I slept in a cathedral full of fucking vampires?!”

“You did.” He smiles. “But they are very well aware of what’s mine.”

He loves the way your face looks when you process words. He is more aware than you think of how insane all of this must sound to you. Yet, still, he has never truly lied to you.

“They needed an order, so I brought that order. Thus, Master.” He smiles as he motions towards himself with you still in his grasp, as if he’s playfully boasting his own intelligence over the vampire-nuns.

You pull back to look at him, feeling a bit calmer now in the way he describes countless lives and knowledge. You can’t experience any of that with the life you have right now. In fifty to sixty years you’ll be in an urn on your mother’s fireplace.

Why would you want that when you could be in a bed with silk sheets? Or perhaps by then you’ll be able to travel elsewhere with Sunghoon, finding new beds with even softer sheets.

And only now do you realize that Sunghoon didn’t put you in danger at all. In fact, he knew he was dangerous and forced you to live. Even when you asked him to kill you. He…

Oh. Wow.

“Now, what is it, you think, that made you so special in regards to that woman you found me with? What is it, love? What do you believe kept me from ending your life to sustain my own?” And goddamn does it feel good to finally say it. Sunghoon loves the feeling of the words coming out of his mouth, finally spilling it all to you and seeing you only react with cheeky curiosity.

“Why is that? Can you tell me?”

You’re silent as you think of his questions, unable to answer at all.

“No…” You breathe out, knowing he can feel the hot breath against him only because his hand squeezes your waist.

“I suppose after how long I’ve wandered this earth, even I am left with curiosities and questions too.” He smiles when he says it, thankful to know he hasn’t yet experienced everything there is. “I’d like to know why you have this hold on me too, darling.”

“Maybe it’s because I want it?”

“Perhaps, yes. If you didn’t I likely would have savored every ounce of you already and for that, I should be thankful.”

He shifts now, pressing you down against your bed and hovering over you with dark and sparkling eyes. His lips immediately go to your neck with the hunger he feels. Talking isn’t enough anymore. Holding you isn’t enough. He hasn’t eaten in days, and the fact that he could hold off even until now is strange to him.

“Unlike many, you do not seek death–” He drags his lips against your skin, relishing in it. “You exist alongside it happily, you welcome it.” He continues to talk, his teeth now retracting against your skin and leaving little swollen scratches with each drag. “Perhaps had I not chosen to be a priest during this lifetime, you’d have already said yes.”

“A singer? A dancer? Anything you wish for, I’ll become.” He smiles when he feels the goosebumps plump up under his teeth, and it’s so, so, hard not to bite. “So, won’t you stay? “

He listens so closely to your heart and breathing, nearly moaning at the need for it.

“Watching you wither to death by anything other than my own teeth would surely have me seekinga dogwood.”

Ah, so the fantasy movies and novels aren’t all wrong? So strange, truly, that he lives in a cathedral of crosses made from the very wood that could kill him.

“We could be anything, go anywhere, dine on meals you merely taste but never need.”

He nods his head against your skin, hoping you’ll nod along with him, knowing that you will.

“You could be mine, forever.”

You’ve accepted him already, you just haven’t said so yet. He doesn’t mind sweet talking you though, reminding you of everything he can and will provide.

And to you, every single word he mutters is pretty, and everything you could ever need or want is right here.

“I could be yours, forever.”

“I think–” You breathe out, hands now reaching up to scratch through his hair. “there is nothing I could want more than this.”

And the moment he gets that final word of confirmation out to you, he bites. The words you mutter drive him to it. He couldn’t even kiss you in appreciation simply because his instinct takes over. He lets go.

Finally, he can let go.

The need to control himself is no longer here, and it feels astounding.

The sting is deep and it rings within you so loudly that you could hear the puncture vibrate your brain. Your ears burn at the direct puncture, and already you can feel his hands bracing you through it. As if he knows he’s never bitten you so deep in your pulse point like this.

But the intention behind it somehow feels better than anything you’ve ever experienced. This is what you were jealous of and now you can only agree with your past self. There was good reason to be jealous of feeling this from him. Except, unlike that woman, he’s holding you through it. He’s grunting against your neck and swallowing large portions of your blood as the seconds pass. Losing himself with you. Almost as if he’s dying with you.

And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks, to the point your toes are feeling the sleep overtake them, then your legs, all the way up and down your body until your fingers are too weak to keep gripping against the locks of hair on the back of his neck.

You feel his fingers soothe you through the weakness when he pulls back, keeping his promise of not wasting a single drop. There is no blood smeared on him, only a trace of it on his inner lips as he watches your weakened expressions.

He isn’t intentionally draining you so quickly, but…fuck. The blood. That glorious scent and taste was already too much to bear, but now? Knowing he gets all of it save for the best and final sip? He genuinely can’t help it. Controlling himself now after how long he’s held back?

Darling, you asked for this.

And his body reacts in aroused euphoria. Already he feels an orgasm bubble up just witnessing you die for him. Even then, he barely feels the heightened pleasure because the mind, dead or not, simply cannot comprehend the pure potent pleasure he’s experiencing.

He spills out all over himself, while you spill out for him. Your life, your very being.

How can he not be terribly, horrifyingly, utterly stupendously in love with you?

“My love, the light in your eyes will come back soon.” He smiles as he watches what happens to you through this, and then throws his head back in manic pleasure with a deep and animalistic moan. Arguably, even his eyes hold more life than yours right now.

So, so beautiful.

You’re too weak to speak, but you shake your head. Nothing is a pain to lose, nothing except him.

And you find comfort in the way he sinks his teeth right back into those puncture marks. Sucking more and more out of you with a content smile on his face. He doesn’t think he could ever feel happier, knowing you’re giving him everything, and he wants nothing more than to return the favor to you.

Oh, how he wishes it were you sucking the life out of his veins. You’d be so gentle, you’d look so pretty losing your mind like he is right now.

You continue to feel your body grow numb, up to the point that your heart rate slows at the loss of blood. To the point you can tell he’s sucking harder and harder just to get more. You feel a weight shift inside of your body, it writhes and chokes every inch of your innards.

Shrivelling, spiraling, cramping.

If you could curl in on yourself right now, you would, but you’re too weak even for that. You can’t even twitch a finger against Sunghoon at this moment as you feel everything within you dehydrate and search for life.

It hurts.

Badly. So badly that at this moment, you can’t remember a single thing that has ever felt good. In fact, everything is painful. Life is painful and horrifyingly full of things that will hurt you. But–Sunghoon is here. That much, you still recognize. Even through the pain, and even through the twisting inside of you, he remains constant. He’s soothing you through it well past the comprehension of your dying brain.

You can’t shiver at the loss of warmth, but you do try to take a breath. Working your weak body to near exhaustion just at the act of trying to expand your lungs. And oh, you can’t even open your eyes at the way the last breath doesn’t come. You must have lost it already.

And then, darkness.

Nothing.

And it feels like this for an eternity. Nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing to fear or love.

Absolutely fucking nothing. And to think humanity has built governments off promised afterlifes? To think anything ever mattered in the first place? The emptiness soothes and relieves your still working soul, wisping in the darkness for eternities more it seems.

To the point names and faces leave you, and all you can think, feel, or hear is that of unfilled space and pure, deafening, silence. You cannot feel content, or peace, or happiness here. You just feel nothing. And it truly feels good to be nothing.

Until there's warmth. You feel it somewhere hugging you, or perhaps inside of you? Do you even have a body to hold warmth now within this vast void of darkness? Why do you hear…?

Feelings come back to you tenfold. Seemingly experiencing everything you’ve ever felt and lived through all at once. That deafening silence becomes louder, louder, louder, until– it flourishes in the pit of your belly.

So much chaos within you. Swirling and bubbling in such a way that it fucking blooms in this darkness. You feel like you’re burning, freezing, dying, living, fucking drowning all at once.

That flourish forces the nothingness out of you. As comfortable as this place is, there is nothing and you want something. You need something. You crave…something.

A little dribble running down your throat leaving a trail of warm, blooming heat. As if you just swallowed a sun-ray itself. Only now can you feel your body again enough to know where the heat is coming from. It blossoms within you, increasing each sense within your body tenfold.

It doesn’t hurt.

Only now do you recognize that it’s silent again, as if you were slammed into a wall by the force of the god you now know does not exist. You feel yourself restrict under skin, you feel cold, you feel…heavy.

And the silence is still too loud to be so restricted. You miss the sounds of what you must have unintentionally listened to every waking moment of your life. The only true soundtrack of a living, loving, and heat-radiating being.

No heart-beat. No whirring of blood. No rumbling in your stomach. Nothing.

And yet still, it doesn’t hurt.

Just a bouquet in the pits in your belly. Your precious life, all summed up in that single diluted sip of blood.

And somehow, someway, you regain your strength faster than it took for you to lose it. You open your eyes on instinct and the world is glowing. Sunghoon is glowing. As lifeless as you are, and as empty as your brain is at this moment, you reach out to him immediately.

But he has yet to let go of you since all of this started. He stayed. He held you, just like he said he would.

“Did it hurt badly?” Sunghoon calls out to you, helping your mind awaken again.

He barely remembers the pain he went through when it happened to him. Truly, pain is so temporary, so meaningless to indulge but, the curiosity still sits with him.

After watching you for upwards of two hours to both die and come back to life, he can’t help but wonder if it was anything like what he experienced.

Even with that curiosity though, seeing you open your eyes for the first time in your new life fills Sunghoon with overwhelming glee. To the point he feels like a child, wanting to ask so many questions, thoughts shifting from this, to that, up until all his thoughts run together and all he can do is squeeze you in his grasp.

He’d have pulled down the stars if he could just so it could be your first view of the afterlife with him. But alas, he couldn’t step away even for a moment. He needed to be with you, not just for your sake, but his own.

You’re cold now, but oh, the blood within him could satiate him for hundreds of years. It’s gone from you now, and he fears not missing it. Not when you’re here. Not when you chose to be here with him.

You weakly nod to him, amazed at being able to do it again. Already the pain you’d previously felt feels like a long lost memory as you stare back at him.

“I’m sorry.” He smiles through the apology, unable to pretend he means the words at all. “I didn’t intend to drain you so quickly. My poor love, you must have felt miserable.”

You nod again, feeling him so tightly against you.

Only just realizing that he’s holding you. Your body, it’s coming back to you. You can feel sensations again.

“I feel–” Your voice cracks with a dry throat and you inhale.

On instinct, you try to exhale but your throat just gets drier and drier.

“I–”

Sunghoon coos, shushing you with a gentle kiss. Lending you his own saliva because if there’s one thing he can remember, it’s the act of learning how to…not breathe.

“Slowly, love, slowly.” He smiles when he pulls back, watching you swallow around his gift and instantly droop your eyes again.

“You’ve only just died and you have all the time in this world to speak, no need to do it now.”

And he’s right. You’re spinning, yet balanced. Fuzzy yet smooth. You are everything and nothing at this moment with your glowing after-death aroma. Sunghoon smiles, cradling the back of your head.

Finally, he’s gotten to drink you in full. No true death, and he feels more elated than he ever expected. Almost lulled to sleep at the scent of you disappearing. Never will he taste your blood again, but you. He has you now. Knowing you had a taste at all is enough. Knowing that he has broken for you enough to beg you.

To beg you to die for him just to be with him on a level deeper than thirst.

Never once has he wanted someone like this.

And never once had he expected you to agree with him.

The moment is sweet with him, and still you’ve yet to comprehend the truth reality of your life now. You know at least, that it could take longer than you’d have had previously to figure it out. You did this to be with someone, and that someone is right here next to you. Smiling, clinging, seemingly ecstatic to know he’s no longer alone.

A forever companion, truly this time.

And as sweet as the moment is, time still moves even after becoming ageless.

“The sun will rise soon,” Sunghoon hums at your reluctant gaze at the window. “Shall we go home?”

You would nod. Truly, you would, if it weren’t for that suffocating scent entering your nose.

Roses? No, tulips?

Lavender?

Your belly pangs, a dry and itchy feeling overtaking your entire being. To the point that Sunghoon clinging to you can’t even calm the itch. The world stops at the scent, so strong and sweet.

Sunghoon smells it too though, and he knows. He’s experienced it time and time again, though he’s long since learned how to control it, clearly. He purses his lips in frustration. You’ve only just come back, and he’d very much like to get you home with him so that you can learn and grow accustomed to this life. You need to realize that you haven’t even experienced the hardest part yet.

Disappearing.

After all, his intention was to hunt for you, teach you, comfort you. There’s so much to do now that the deed is done, and he hadn’t prepared for interruptions such as this.

Unfortunately, he knows very well the thirst. You won’t be able to control it, especially considering he knows this scent too. He has to force himself to try and lend you alluring words, but they seem to go through one ear and out the other.

Your brain is empty at the scent.

“Ah, what a turn of events.” He tics his tongue with a smile. “I smell him too.”

Your eyes do not reach Sunghoon at all, but he understands. Even with the jealousy in his gut.

A key clicking into a lock, a turn of the knob. The sound is amplified in your ears along with the scent.

“Wake up and help me unload all this shit!”

Oh, what a shame.

You really loved Jungwon.

“Can you smell it flowing through him?” Sunghoon smiles at the light in your eye now, endeared by the way scent ignites you entirely. As envious of Jungwon as he is to hold certain parts of you when he couldn’t do it himself, seeing the way you react arouses him beyond belief.

Your first feeling of thirst.

“Shall I greet him?”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jungwon peers at the stoic figure that appeared from your bedroom. His first thought is that he’s going to kick your fucking ass because number one, this better not be who he thinks it is. And number two–

There is no number two. A mere three seconds after stepping into his new home with you, his mind goes fuzzy. Thinking only of you, of needing to see you, of needing to make sure you’re okay.

He wants to know if you slept well, and if you were able to have any sweet dreams without him here.

“Jungwon, I take it?” Sunghoon lends him a lively smile, impressed by the pull you unintentionally lay on the guy.

“Ah, yeah.” Jungwon weakly scratches the back of his neck before feeling his body move on its own. “Where is she? I need to see her.”

It’s a pity, really, but Sunghoon has seen it time and time again with his own victims. A weak mind, one that is easily broken and even easier to lure. It’s kind of cute really, seeing how breathing humans cling to what balances them.

He almost feels bad for taking you from Jungwon, but he doesn't only because he hates that he has to see you drink from someone you were attached to. He knows it’ll hurt you when you realize, and he no longer wants to see you hurt after witnessing your death.

As beautiful as it was.

Jungwon truly chases you, stepping through the apartment and dropping everything in his hands without care. He heads straight to your room, swallowed in a somber smile and a welcome scent. One that he doesn’t know is death.

“Wonnie.” You rasp sweetly. “Come here.”

There’s no reluctance within him, even upon hearing Sunghoon close the door behind him and lock it. Even when the man looms at the door, watching, narrowing his eyes at you in jealousy.

You ignore it as you grow enamored with Jungwon at this moment. Is this what his life smells like? So pretty, it truly fits him.

And it drowns out all of your thoughts. The flowers, like a fresh spring day with no worry. You think it’s your favorite smell in the world as you inhale him with each step he takes toward you.

For Jungwon, even upon feeling you grip his shirt, pulling him closer than he’s ever been to you without the excuse of comfort, he pays no mind. He missed this bubble he shared with you, the single night with his sister almost felt like agony to be away from you.

After all, the love he holds for you is truly deeper than romance. There is no need for any physicality between the two of you, yet…he welcomes it at this moment. In fact, he’s entirely aroused, stiffening in his pants at the sheer blissful anxiety your uncanny smile and shining eyes lend to him.

Did you truly miss him so much?

“You look so pretty…” He trails off, closing his eyes as he feels you caress his warm cheeks. “Your hands are so cold, let me—ah”

You’ve never felt an instinct quite like this. You could truly hear it, the pulse of his heart. You can still smell his sweet scent, and you truly weren’t in control of your own body when you gripped him, lifted, and sank your teeth right against his pulse point.

Jungwon moans at the bite, drifting off entirely at first contact.

All while Sunghoon continues to loom. Watching with weight in his pants. The way you bite so messily, spilling blood and wasting it as it trickles down Jungwon’s throat. The small sounds your mouth makes as you suck has him throbbing non-stop, to the point he almost needs to hold onto something just to keep from jumping on you, just to keep from tasting Jungwon himself.

And, oh, his pretty love, you have so much to adapt to.

It appears he does as well.

As he watches the furrow of your brows at the first taste falling to that of relief and pleasure as you drink, and you drink, and you drink, until–

Sunghoon smirks now, quirking his brow at how you stop yourself before he needs to step in and separate the two of you. In all honesty, he was unsure if he’d be able to give in and stop you either. After all, killing Jungwon now would prove easier than letting him live.

The fact that you stopped yourself though. Perhaps your mind grew more stubborn and strong-willed through death. He nearly cannot believe that you aren’t draining the man dry right now.

And you aren’t even sure yourself why you do. The feeling in your gut is full and satiated, but the grip Jungwon has on you only grows more and more limp. You love the way he clings as much as the taste, and even through his slumber, he clinged so tight.

Not so much now though, and that scared you. So, you let go.

If only because truly, you do love Jungwon. Enough to no longer pull him into your messes despite forcing him to become one at this moment. What’s even more scary is though, even with all of the endearment you held towards him in life, the feeling is only amplified now. These new bitter and floral scents pulsing through him makes you want to protect him from any leech wanting to drink it out of him.

Even if you’re the leech.

Ah, he tasted like honey suckle, and it dropped down your throat like honey too. Warm, gentle, pretty. Just like him.

And you have to continue to keep yourself from sinking your teeth into him. Your stomach is greedy, wanting more, but too in love with the life he has and willingly wanted to share with you as a best friend and forever comfort.

Forever for Jungwon is nothing but a moment to you now, but it’s one you hope he enjoys, at least.

And when you hold him against you, so weak and sound asleep, you look at Sunghoon. The tears fall so, so, cold against your cheeks. The heightened senses within you become overwhelming with the horrifying silence and intense smell of floral blood wafting through your nose.

“Much like you, he won’t remember. You lured him deeply, love, did you know that? He was asleep from the moment he saw you.”

You pause, nodding as the tears continue to fall.

“Brilliant.” He compliments now, moving to hold you as you cling to Jungwon.

“Sunghoon, did my blood taste like that?”

Sunghoon kisses you once, sucking Jungwon’s blood from your tongue.

“Ah,” He chokes. “Absolutely not.”

You pause at his scrunched nose.

“You were much sweeter.” He whispers sweetly, fondly, tilting his head to kiss against you again, licking the mess of Jungwon’s blood from your lips, chin, and neck. Still, he chokes it down. “I’ll miss it.”

“What did it taste like?” Your weak and dry voice falters repeatedly, but you need to speak right now.

“You tell me.”

You only slightly remember the flavor as you were brought back. Warm, blooming, spicy, sickeningly sweet.

“I have never tasted anything compared to it…”

“Exactly.” Sunghoon smiles, inhaling deeply and lending no breath against your skin when he scrapes his teeth there. “Like the sun.” He hums, nosing down to your neck and inhaling again, arms only slightly trying to push Jungwon out of your grasp. “Like the one thing that could get me killed.”

You cling tightly to your best friend though, not wanting any more harm to come to him. Still, you stare at Sunghoon’s sweet words, finding yourself smiling at all that is to be gained rather than lost.

Your life. The light outside, the light in your eyes, the warmth.

Not Jungwon though.

“You don’t intend to leave him be, no?” Sunghoon furrows a brow at how your face rises for him, but falls instantly at inhaling Jungwon’s blood.

You frantically shake your head.

“We’ll figure something out, love.” He says now, looking away from you and doing his best to ignore the envy that fills him time and time again when this floral-boy is near.

He told you he’d do anything for you, give anything to you.

If that includes Jungwon….

Ah, always so fucking stubborn.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun rises and falls.

Repeatedly, for months.

Jungwon wakes himself with the warm sun hitting his face, the bed just as warm from his own body heat. He loves this space, and adores the way that even if it’s only him, he never feels lonely with that pretty smell in the air.

Every morning when he wakes up, and every night before he goes to bed.

The shock of learning the inevitable still hurts him from time to time, but still, he smiles with that dimple you threatened you’d steal right off his face if he chose not to show it to you.

His hand reaches to his neck, the single wound you gave him and apologized profusely for after. It’s healed well.

And when his phone vibrates in the middle of the day, he wonders why you’re awake.

You: wonnie

Wonnie: wat

You: come over

Wonnie: was wondering why you were trying so hard. nearly suffocated this morning.

You: and you were fighting it? asshole

Wonnie: be over in a few, stinky

And as strange as it is, Sunghoon doesn’t mind that you wouldn’t let Jungwon go. After several conversations needing reassurance that you’re not trying to spend your forever elsewhere, anyway.

Really, to think you’d die for him but want someone else? Sunghoon truly is insane, but so are you.

And it works.

Because Jungwon loves insanity, even if he hates Sunghoon with a passion. Even if he can only see you with Sunghoon in the room too. Even if you’re dead.

You’re still his best friend, and he doesn’t mind helping you disappear as long as it’s not from him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

not me accidentally making this a sunghoon ft.jungwon fic.

Fanart by @a-the-na 🖤🖤🖤🖤

#im so serious #top tier writing #this is perfection #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader

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bangchanwifey · 6 days ago

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boyfriend texts with sunghoon ! ˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—

— all fake texts !

contains: bf!park sunghoon x female!reader

warnings: language, suggestive content (?), pet names, mdni!!!

⇾ MAIN MASTERLIST | ENHYPEN MASTERLIST

⇾ thank u for reading !! i greatly appreciate the love for the bf!texts they’re sooo fun to make 💌💌

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enhaflixer · 1 day ago

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psh - BOUND & BEYOND - marriage law au! PART 2

A MARRIAGE LAW HARRY POTTER AU SUNSHINE X GRUMPY 2 LOVERS FIC!! PART 1

wizard diplomat grumpy!sunghoon x witch healer sunshine f!reader

warnings: sex lol, hes emotionally unavailable and it hurts, he also might be a bit mean but its okay.

That night, something changed.

The thunderstorm had been brewing all evening, the air heavy with electricity as dark clouds gathered. By midnight, lightning split the sky outside your bedroom window, thunder rolling so close it rattled the glass.

You'd woken disoriented, reaching for your wand on the nightstand to cast a light. In the brief flash before you knocked it to the floor, you saw Sunghoon standing in your doorway, watching the storm with unusual intensity.

"Sorry," you murmured as your wand clattered away, plunging the room back into darkness. "Did I wake you?"

"No," came his reply, unusually soft. "I was already awake."

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room, freezing the moment in stark white light—Sunghoon sitting up against the headboard, his hair disheveled, eyes meeting yours with unexpected directness.

"I'll get my wand," you said, starting to move, when his hand caught yours in the darkness.

"Wait," he said, his voice low. "The storm is... interesting."

You settled back, acutely aware of his fingers still wrapped around yours.

Lightning flashed again, and in that brief illumination, you caught Sunghoon studying your face with an intensity that made your breath catch. His usual guardedness was gone, replaced by something raw and unfiltered.

"What?" you asked softly, when the darkness returned.

His thumb traced a slow circle on your palm. "You look different in the storm light."

"Different bad?" you asked, pulse quickening at his touch.

"Different... real," he replied, the word seeming to surprise even him.

The next lightning flash revealed him closer than before, his eyes dark with something you couldn't name. The thunder that followed seemed to vibrate through your entire body.

You weren't sure who moved first. Perhaps you both did, drawn together by something neither of you had anticipated. His lips met yours hesitantly, a question more than a demand.

That hesitation lasted exactly three seconds.

What began as exploration transformed into something neither of you had expected. Sunghoon kissed you with focused intensity, his careful control giving way to something hungrier. His hand slid into your hair, cradling your head as he deepened the kiss with unmistakable need.

Your wand remained forgotten on the floor, the room dark except for the occasional lightning that caught you in tableau—his hand in your hair, your fingers gripping his shoulder, bodies drawing inevitably closer.

You gasped against his mouth as his free hand found your waist, pulling you firmly against him. The heat of him through your thin nightclothes was startling, intimate in a way you hadn't prepared for. His palm skimmed up your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"Is this—" he pulled back slightly, his voice rougher than you'd ever heard it. "Is this okay?"

The formality of the question, contrasted with his disheveled state and the position of his hands, made you laugh softly. "Very okay," you assured him. "More than okay."

Lightning illuminated his face—his eyes darker than you'd ever seen them, pupils blown wide, his usual perfect composure completely undone. Something flickered in his expression—relief, hunger, something deeper—before darkness claimed the room again.

His lips found yours with new confidence, no longer questioning. Your hands slipped beneath his shirt, discovering the surprising warmth of his skin, the definition of muscle beneath your fingertips. He made a sound against your mouth—half groan, half sigh—that sent electricity through your veins rivaling the storm outside.

"I've thought about this," he admitted against your throat, his voice barely audible above the rain. "More than I should have."

The confession—so unlike his usual measured statements—thrilled you more than you wanted to admit. "Me too," you whispered, gasping as his teeth grazed your collarbone.

His hands found the hem of your nightshirt, fingers tracing the edge with deliberate patience. "May I?" he asked, his usual precision still present even in this moment of abandon.

"Yes," you breathed, lifting your arms as he pulled the fabric over your head.

Lightning flashed, giving him a momentary glimpse of you before darkness returned. His sharp intake of breath was audible.

"Beautiful," he murmured, hands hovering just above your skin as if memorizing you by proximity alone. "So beautiful, baby."

The endearment sent a shiver through you. His hands finally made contact, palms warm against your ribs, thumbs tracing maddening circles that slowly moved higher.

You weren't passive in your exploration. Your fingers made quick work of his shirt buttons, pushing the fabric from his shoulders to reveal the body he kept hidden beneath perfect tailoring. Lightning gave you glimpses—broad shoulders, defined chest, the surprising elegance of his collarbones. Your mouth followed the path your eyes had traced, tasting the salt of his skin.

"Angel," he groaned, the word catching as your teeth grazed his shoulder. His hands tightened on your waist, drawing you fully against him.

What followed was a discovery neither of you had anticipated. Sunghoon—controlled, precise Sunghoon—touched you with a reverence that bordered on worship, learning every inch of you with the same focused attention he brought to diplomatic negotiations, but without the clinical distance. His mouth and hands found places that made you gasp, arch, plead.

And you discovered him in return—the places that made his breath catch, the sensitive spot below his ear that made him tense when you kissed it, the way he moaned your name when your hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pajamas.

"Wait," he breathed, catching your wrist. "I need—we should—"

Even now, trying to think. So very Sunghoon.

"Stop thinking," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Just feel."

Something in him surrendered then. His remaining clothes joined yours on the floor, and when he covered your body with his, skin to skin with nothing between you, both of you gasped at the sensation.

"Look at me," he said, his voice low and commanding as he positioned himself. When your eyes met his, something passed between you—acknowledgment that this was about more than biology, more than proximity, more than Ministry requirements.

He moved with deliberate control at first, each thrust measured, his eyes never leaving yours. But as your body responded to his, as your hands clutched at his back, as you whispered his name with increasing urgency, that control fractured.

"Let go," you urged, recognizing his struggle to maintain composure even now. "I want to see you let go, Hoon."

His rhythm faltered at the nickname, something vulnerable flashing across his face. Then he buried his face against your neck, his movements becoming less calculated, more primal.

"Baby," he groaned against your skin, the word sounding natural in his desperation. "My angel, my—"

Words failed him as his body took over, his careful precision giving way to something raw and real. You matched him movement for movement, the storm outside echoing the one you created between you.

When release finally claimed you both, lightning illuminated the moment—his face above yours, completely unguarded for the first time since you'd met him, his eyes locked on yours as if you were the only fixed point in a universe suddenly without rules or boundaries.

After, as you lay tangled in the sheets and each other, his fingers traced patterns on your bare shoulder, his touch gentler than you'd imagined possible. The silence between you felt weighted with unspoken questions, but not uncomfortable.

"The Ministry assessment form definitely doesn't have a section for this," you murmured, feeling laughter bubble up in your chest.

For a moment, Sunghoon was silent. Then, to your astonishment, he laughed—a genuine, unguarded sound you'd never heard from him before. "A serious oversight in their protocol," he agreed, his voice warm with humor.

You propped yourself up on one elbow, staring at him through the darkness. "Did you just laugh? Actually laugh?"

"Momentary lapse in judgment," he said, though you could hear the smile in his voice. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. "You have that effect on me."

"I like it," you admitted, turning to kiss his palm. "You should lapse more often."

He pulled you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you with surprising tenderness. "Only with you," he murmured against your hair. "Only like this."

You fell asleep to the sound of the rain and his heartbeat, a smile on your lips and the dangerous feeling in your chest that had nothing to do with physical pleasure and everything to do with the man who'd just let you see behind his carefully maintained walls.

Morning brought soft sunlight and an even more unexpected sight—Sunghoon, still in bed beside you, watching you with warm eyes.

"Good morning," he said, his voice lacking its usual crisp efficiency.

"Morning," you replied, waiting for the awkwardness, the retreat behind walls of propriety. It didn't come.

Instead, Sunghoon reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I have in weeks," you admitted, studying his face for signs of regret or withdrawal. There were none.

"Hmm," he murmured, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "I canceled my morning meeting."

You stared at him, momentarily speechless. Park Sunghoon canceling a Ministry meeting was unprecedented.

"You're looking at me like I've grown a second head," he observed, the corner of his mouth lifting in what you now recognized as his version of a smile.

"It's just... not like you," you said.

"Perhaps I'm discovering new aspects of myself," he replied, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. "I found I wasn't particularly motivated to leave this bed."

Before you could respond to this startling admission, a furry weight landed on the mattress between you. Nyx, apparently sensing this new development, had come to investigate.

"Your cat has timing issues," Sunghoon observed dryly, though his hand automatically reached out to scratch behind her ears.

"She's curious about the new sleeping arrangement," you said, watching with delight as Nyx butted her head against Sunghoon's hand, demanding more attention.

"The arrangement meets with your approval, I hope?" he asked, his tone light but his eyes serious as they met yours.

"Very much so," you assured him, leaning forward to kiss him properly.

The kiss deepened quickly, morning breath forgotten as Sunghoon pulled you closer. Nyx, disgruntled at being squeezed between you, let out an indignant meow and jumped away.

"Even the cat has better judgment than I do right now," Sunghoon murmured against your lips. "You have a shift in two hours."

"Plenty of time," you whispered, your hand sliding beneath the sheets to trace the warm skin of his chest.

His breath caught, eyes darkening. "Indeed," he agreed, rolling you beneath him with surprising grace. "Time should be used efficiently."

The second time was different—less hesitant, more playful, a discovery of what pleased each other now that the initial tension had broken. Sunghoon, you were delighted to learn, was a quick study, remembering exactly what had made you gasp the night before and expanding on it with creative variations.

Afterward, as you both lay catching your breath, he pressed a kiss to your temple. "I believe I'm developing a new appreciation for mornings," he said, his voice warm with satisfaction.

"Just mornings?" you teased, tracing patterns on his chest.

"Afternoons have potential," he replied seriously. "Evenings as well. I'll need to conduct further research."

You laughed, the sound drawing a genuine smile from him—small but real, transforming his usually stern features into something almost boyish.

"I should make breakfast," you said, making no move to get up.

"I'll cook," Sunghoon offered, surprising you again. "I'm told my pancakes are acceptable."

"You cook?" you asked, unable to hide your astonishment.

"I have many talents beyond diplomatic negotiations," he replied with unexpected playfulness. "Though I rarely bother when it's just for myself."

When you finally made it to the kitchen, wrapped in your robe with your hair still damp from a shared shower (another surprising development), you found Sunghoon already at work. He moved with the same precision he brought to everything, measuring ingredients with exact care, but there was a new ease to his movements, a relaxation in his usually rigid posture.

Most surprising was his interaction with Nyx, who had positioned herself strategically near the stove, watching the proceedings with keen interest.

"This is not for you," Sunghoon informed the cat, who meowed back as if arguing the point. "Your food is in your designated bowl. This is human breakfast."

Another plaintive meow.

"Negotiations will not be successful," he replied solemnly. "Though I suppose a small sample might be permissible."

You watched from the doorway, fascinated by this one-sided conversation. When Sunghoon carefully set aside a tiny piece of pancake on a saucer for Nyx, your heart did something complicated in your chest.

"Are you bribing my cat?" you asked, finally entering the kitchen.

Sunghoon looked up, not at all embarrassed at being caught. "Strategic alliance-building," he corrected. "She has considerable influence in this household."

"She has you wrapped around her paw," you observed, sliding onto a kitchen chair.

"She's persuasive," Sunghoon admitted, placing a perfect stack of pancakes before you. "Much like her owner."

The casual compliment, delivered without his usual careful calculation, created a warm glow in your chest. This new Sunghoon—relaxed, almost playful, comfortable in domestic settings—was a revelation.

Over breakfast, conversation flowed with unexpected ease. Sunghoon spoke of his work without the usual clipped efficiency, asked thoughtful questions about your upcoming shift, and even shared a few stories from his own childhood that revealed a dry humor you'd only glimpsed before.

When it came time for you to leave for your shift, he walked you to the door—another unprecedented gesture. "Dinner tonight?" he suggested, his hand lingering at your waist. "I should be home by six."

"I'll be there," you promised, rising on tiptoe to kiss him goodbye.

He returned the kiss with surprising enthusiasm, his arms tightening around you briefly before letting you go. "Have a good day, My angel," he said softly, the endearment now rich with genuine affection rather than calculated familiarity.

You floated through your shift at St. Mungo's, earning curious glances from colleagues who noticed your unusually sunny mood. Even the most difficult patients couldn't dampen your spirits as memories of the morning kept resurfacing at unexpected moments.

When you returned home that evening, you found Sunghoon already there, setting the table with uncharacteristic care. A bottle of wine was open, breathing, and something that smelled delicious was bubbling on the stove.

"You're cooking again," you observed, hanging up your cloak.

"I'm feeling unusually domestic," he replied, looking up with a warm expression that still startled you with its openness. "How was your shift?"

"Busy but good," you said, moving to his side. "No invisible ears today, thankfully."

His arm slipped around your waist, drawing you against him with casual ease that belied how significant this casual touch was from someone who had once measured appropriate proximity in precise inches. "I missed you," he said simply.

The straightforward admission, free of his usual qualifiers and analytical distance, made your heart flip. "I missed you too."

Dinner was delicious, the conversation easy, and afterwards, you both settled on the sofa with tea—Sunghoon sitting close beside you rather than at his usual careful distance.

Nyx, sensing an opportunity, immediately claimed his lap, settling in with a loud purr.

"Your daughter really does have boundary issues," you teased, watching as Sunghoon's hand automatically began stroking the cat's fur.

"Our daughter," he corrected absently, then froze, seeming startled by his own words.

The casual claim—both of Nyx and of a connection between you that implied shared ownership—hung in the air between you, unexpectedly weighty.

"Yes," you agreed softly, reaching out to scratch Nyx's ears. "Our daughter."

Something flickered in Sunghoon's eyes—warmth and uncertainty mingled in equal measure. But he didn't withdraw the claim, merely nodded once and returned to his tea, his free hand continuing to stroke Nyx's fur.

The days that followed established a new pattern: breakfasts together, shared dinners, evenings spent in comfortable conversation or companionable silence, and nights of increasingly confident exploration. Sunghoon's schedule, once rigid and unyielding, now seemed to revolve around your shared times together, his usual late nights at the Ministry becoming increasingly rare.

Most surprising was his growing bond with Nyx, who had fully adopted him as her second favorite human. He spoke to her constantly, a running commentary that revealed a playful side you'd never imagined existed within him.

"Your preference for my chair has been noted," you overheard him telling the cat one evening as you returned from the kitchen with tea. "However, persistent occupation does not constitute legal ownership."

Nyx meowed back, settling more firmly into his favorite reading chair.

"I propose a compromise," Sunghoon continued seriously. "Shared custody with alternating usage rights."

You couldn't help but laugh, drawing his attention. "Are you negotiating chair rights with a cat?"

"Someone in this house needs to establish boundaries with her," he replied with mock severity. "You clearly encourage her territorial ambitions."

"She's learned from the best diplomat in the house," you countered, setting his tea beside him.

To your surprise, when you made to move away, Sunghoon caught your hand, pulling you down onto his lap—Nyx having relocated to the arm of the chair to observe this development with feline interest.

"What are you doing?" you asked, startled by this unprecedented playfulness.

"Demonstrating proper negotiation technique," he replied, his arms encircling your waist. "When borders are disputed, sometimes creative compromise is required."

His lips found yours in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened, his hands sliding beneath your jumper with familiar ease. When you finally broke apart, breathless, Nyx was watching you both with what appeared to be feline judgment.

"I believe we've scandalized our daughter," you murmured against his lips.

"She'll recover," Sunghoon replied, his voice lower than usual. "Though perhaps we should continue this negotiation upstairs."

Later, as you lay entwined in the darkness, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare skin, Sunghoon spoke softly against your hair. "I never expected this."

"What?" you asked, nestled against his chest.

"This... contentment," he admitted, the word clearly chosen with care. "I approached our arrangement as a professional requirement to be managed. I didn't anticipate..."

"That it could be good?" you supplied when he trailed off.

"That it could feel real," he corrected quietly, his arms tightening slightly around you.

The simple admission, so unlike his usual measured statements, created a warm glow in your chest. You pressed a kiss to his skin, right over his heart. "It feels real to me too."

Ten days into this new, unexpected happiness, the first crack appeared.

Your shift at St. Mungo's had run hours longer than scheduled due to a magical accident involving twenty children at a primary school. By the time you finally managed to reverse the effects of an experimental charm gone wrong (all the children had been temporarily transformed into various musical instruments), you were exhausted and running nearly three hours late.

You sent a Patronus message explaining the delay, expecting Sunghoon's usual calm acceptance of work emergencies. Instead, when you finally arrived home well after nine, you found him pacing the living room, his usual composed expression replaced by something that looked remarkably like agitation.

"You're still in your work robes," you observed, surprised to find him waiting rather than eating dinner without you.

"I was concerned," he said, his voice tight. "Your Patronus mentioned children in distress but provided minimal details."

"They're all fine," you assured him, touched by his worry. "Just an experimental charm that went wrong during a music lesson. No lasting harm done, though I suspect young Timothy Wilson will be teased about his trombone transformation for years to come."

Sunghoon didn't smile as you'd expected. Instead, he continued to study you with unusual intensity. "You appear fatigued."

"Exhausted," you confirmed, sinking onto the sofa. "Reversing transformation magic on twenty squirming children isn't exactly restful."

"You work excessive hours," he observed, a hint of criticism entering his voice. "Hospital administration should provide adequate staffing for such emergencies."

"That's how emergency healing works, Sunghoon," you replied, too tired to match his suddenly formal tone. "Sometimes things happen that weren't on the schedule."

"The schedule indicated you would return at six-seventeen," he said, his voice now clipped in a way you hadn't heard in days. "Dinner has been warming for three hours and fourteen minutes."

You stared at him, trying to reconcile this rigid, almost petulant version of Sunghoon with the warm, affectionate man who had kissed you goodbye that morning. "Are you actually upset that I'm late because I was treating children in an emergency?"

"I am not upset," he replied, though his tense posture suggested otherwise. "I am merely noting that predictable scheduling benefits all parties involved."

"Sunghoon," you said, rubbing your temples where a headache was forming. "I can't predict magical emergencies. No healer can."

"Other departments manage to maintain consistent scheduling," he countered. "International diplomatic negotiations rarely extend beyond projected timeframes."

"Well, I'm not a diplomat, and sick children don't care about projected timeframes," you snapped, your patience fraying under the combined weight of exhaustion and his unexpected criticism.

Something flickered in his eyes—hurt, perhaps, quickly masked by his more familiar analytical distance. "I apologize for the observation," he said stiffly. "Your professional obligations are your concern."

"That's not—" you began, then sighed, too tired for this sudden tension. "I'm sorry I'm late. I missed you too. Can we please just eat and talk about something else?"

For a moment, Sunghoon remained rigid, clearly struggling with something internal. Then, with visible effort, his posture relaxed slightly. "Of course," he said, his voice softening. "You must be hungry. I'll reheat dinner properly."

Dinner was a quieter affair than usual, though by dessert, Sunghoon had mostly returned to his newer, warmer self. When you yawned for the third time over your tea, he insisted on clearing up while you prepared for bed.

"You're dead on your feet, Baby," he said, his hand gentle at the small of your back as he guided you toward the stairs. "Sleep is the priority now."

You were already half-asleep when he joined you, his arms automatically drawing you against his chest in what had become his preferred sleeping position. As consciousness faded, you felt his lips press against your hair.

"I dislike when you're not here," he murmured, so softly you weren't entirely sure you hadn't dreamed it. "It's... unsettling."

Two days later, you arrived home to find Sunghoon and Nyx engaged in what appeared to be a serious conversation.

"Your request has been considered and rejected," he was telling the cat, who sat on his desk regarding him with unblinking yellow eyes. "The diplomatic pouch is not an appropriate sleeping location regardless of its apparent comfort."

Nyx meowed back, tail twitching.

"Appeals will not be successful," Sunghoon continued solemnly. "The Department has strict regulations about the handling of official correspondence. Even for the Minister's daughter, which you are not."

You couldn't help but laugh, drawing his attention. "Are you explaining international diplomatic protocols to our cat?"

"Someone needs to establish appropriate boundaries," Sunghoon replied, though his expression softened as he looked at you. "She seems to believe my diplomatic credentials extend to her as a family member."

"Our family member," you corrected gently, moving to kiss him hello.

He returned the kiss with unexpected intensity, his arms pulling you close against him. "You're home early," he observed when you finally broke apart.

"Quiet day," you explained, pleasantly surprised by his welcome. "Only three exploding cauldrons and one case of accidental vanishing sickness."

"Fortuitous timing," he said, his voice warming. "I've acquired tickets to the new exhibition at the Magical Artifacts Museum. Their collection of ancient Eastern European healing implements might interest you professionally."

The thoughtfulness of the gesture touched you deeply. "That sounds wonderful," you said, genuinely pleased. "When is it?"

"This evening," Sunghoon replied. "Unless you object to the spontaneity."

You smiled at his careful phrasing. Even in this new, warmer version of himself, Sunghoon's consideration for schedules and planning remained a core part of his personality. "Spontaneity approved," you assured him. "Let me just change quickly."

The exhibition proved fascinating, with Sunghoon's surprising knowledge of Eastern European magical history adding depth to the displays. Watching him explain the cultural significance of various artifacts to you, his usual precision softened by genuine enthusiasm for the subject, you felt another piece of your heart shift irrevocably in his direction.

When he reached for your hand partway through the evening, entwining his fingers with yours as if it were the most natural gesture in the world, you squeezed gently in response, earning a small but genuine smile.

"Thank you for bringing me," you said as you walked home later, still hand in hand. "It was perfect."

"Your enjoyment was evident," he replied, his thumb tracing small circles on your palm. "Your face becomes particularly animated when you encounter new healing techniques."

"You noticed that?" you asked, surprised by this observation.

"I notice everything about you," Sunghoon said simply, the straightforward admission making your heart stutter.

Back home, as you both prepared for bed, you caught him watching you with unusual intensity as you brushed your hair.

"What?" you asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

"I was considering the statistical improbability of our current circumstances," he said, his tone thoughtful. "The Ministry's compatibility formula, while theoretically sound, could not have accurately predicted this specific outcome."

"You mean we actually liking each other?" you asked with a smile.

Sunghoon's expression remained serious. "I mean the extent to which my daily functioning now appears based on your presence."

The admission—so characteristically Sunghoon in its analytical framing yet so revealing in its content—created a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with physical desire. "Is that your way of saying you care about me?" you teased gently.

Instead of the light response you expected, Sunghoon's expression shifted to something almost troubled. "It seems to be a significantly more complicated emotional response than just caring," he said quietly.

Something in his tone made you set down your brush and turn to face him fully. "Sunghoon?"

He shook his head slightly, as if clearing unwelcome thoughts. "It's nothing of concern," he said, his expression smoothing into something more familiar. "Merely an observation."

Later, as you drifted toward sleep in his arms, you couldn't quite shake the memory of that troubled look—as if Sunghoon had realized something that disturbed his carefully ordered world. But his arms remained securely around you, his breathing even and calm against your hair, and eventually you let sleep claim you, the concern fading beneath the comfort of his presence.

The next evening, everything changed.

You arrived home from your shift to find the house unusually quiet. No Sunghoon in the kitchen preparing dinner, no Nyx greeting you at the door. A note on the counter explained the absence:

Called to emergency session regarding Bulgarian delegation. Will return late. Dinner in warming drawer. —S

The note was friendly enough, but something about the absence of his now-customary "angel" or any personal closing created a small flicker of unease. You dismissed it as simple haste—emergency diplomatic sessions didn't allow time for niceties.

When Sunghoon hadn't returned by midnight, you finally went to bed alone, the sheets feeling strangely cold without his presence. You woke briefly when he slipped in beside you in the early hours, but he merely pressed a quick kiss to your temple and settled on his side of the bed, maintaining an unusual few inches of space between you.

The pattern continued for three days. Sunghoon left early, returned late, and maintained a polite but noticeable distance when your paths did cross. There were no more casual touches, no more lingering kisses, no more playful conversations with Nyx that you'd grown to love overhearing.

Most telling was his reversion to "Y/N" instead of "angel" in his increasingly brief notes and conversations. It was as if the warm, affectionate man who had shared your bed and your life for the past two weeks had been replaced by the original Sunghoon—polite, distant, and meticulously proper.

By the fourth evening, your concern had transformed into determination. You waited in the living room until you heard his key in the lock just after eleven.

Sunghoon paused in the doorway when he saw you, his face carefully neutral. "You're still awake."

"It seems to be the only way I'll actually see you lately," you replied, unable to keep the hurt from your voice. "What's going on, Sunghoon?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said, hanging his cloak with precise movements that couldn't mask the tension in his shoulders. "The Bulgarian situation has required extensive attention."

"For three straight days?" you asked skeptically. "With no breaks for actual conversations or eye contact when you're home?"

Something flickered in his expression—discomfort, perhaps guilt. "International diplomatic crises rarely observe convenient schedules."

"This isn't about schedules," you said, standing to face him directly. "Something changed. You changed. Three days ago, you were calling Nyx our daughter and holding my hand at museums. Now you're back to formal notes and sleeping as far away from me as possible without falling off the bed."

Sunghoon's jaw tightened visibly, but he didn't deny the observation. "I've been preoccupied with work."

"That's not all it is." You took a step closer, studying his face. "If something's wrong, just tell me. If you're having second thoughts about us—"

"There is no 'us' beyond what the Ministry arranged," Sunghoon interrupted, his voice suddenly hard.

The words hit like a physical blow. "What?"

"This arrangement is not a love match," he continued, his expression closing completely. "It's a Ministry requirement with a specific purpose. We've allowed ourselves to become... distracted from that reality."

"Distracted," you repeated, the word bitter in your mouth. "Is that what you call what's been happening between us? A distraction?"

"A natural consequence of prolonged proximity," Sunghoon said, his tone analytical. "Physical attraction, comfortable familiarity—these are biological responses, not meaningful connections."

"That's not true," you said quietly, fighting to keep your voice steady. "And you know it. What we've shared these past weeks wasn't just biology or proximity. It was real."

"It was pleasant," he conceded, though his gaze shifted away from yours. "But ultimately unsustainable given our circumstances."

"Our circumstances," you echoed. "You mean the fact that we're married?"

"Temporarily aligned by Ministry decree," he corrected. "A situation that could change at any time. Emotional entanglement in such circumstances is... inadvisable."

Understanding dawned with painful clarity. "You're afraid," you said softly. "You started feeling something real for me, and it terrified you."

Sunghoon's expression remained carefully blank, but the tightness around his eyes told you you'd hit the mark. "I am simply being realistic about our situation. The Ministry created this arrangement; the Ministry could dissolve it just as easily. Developing genuine attachment would be imprudent."

"Imprudent," you repeated, the word tasting like ashes. "Heaven forbid you do something imprudent like actually care about your wife."

"Caring is not the issue," Sunghoon said, a rare edge entering his voice. "The management of expectations is the concern."

"So you've decided to manage my expectations by pulling away completely?" You shook your head, hurt turning to anger. "That's cowardly, Sunghoon. And dishonest. If you didn't want this to get serious, you shouldn't have started calling Nyx our daughter and talking about how your daily functioning depends on my presence."

Sunghoon flinched slightly at the reminder of his own words, but his expression remained resolute. "I apologize if my behavior created misconceptions. I should have maintained appropriate boundaries from the beginning."

You stared at him for a long moment, seeing past the careful mask to the genuine turmoil beneath. "You're lying," you said finally. "Not to me, but to yourself. You felt something real, and instead of being brave enough to face it, you're hiding behind work and analysis."

Sunghoon didn't answer, but the muscle working in his jaw told you your words had hit home.

"I'm not asking you to declare undying love, Sunghoon. I'm just asking you to be honest about what's happening between us." You sighed, suddenly exhausted by the emotional weight of the conversation. "But I can't force you to acknowledge feelings you're determined to deny."

You turned toward the stairs, heart heavy with disappointment. "I'll sleep in the guest room tonight."

"Y/N," he said, your name replacing the endearment that had become so natural on his lips. "I—" He stopped, seemingly unable to find the words for whatever he wanted to say.

"It's fine," you told him, though it wasn't. "We'll go back to how things were before. Professional cohabitation. Ministry compliance. Nothing messy or complicated."

You didn't wait for his response, climbing the stairs with your dignity intact despite the ache in your chest. Only when you reached the guest bedroom did you allow yourself to acknowledge the truth: somewhere between reluctant marriage and those precious weeks of genuine connection, you'd fallen in love with Park Sunghoon—his hidden warmth, his dry humor, his awkward but earnest attempts at expressing affection.

And clearly, he wasn't ready to face the fact that he might be falling in love with you too.

You didn't speak to Sunghoon for three days after your confrontation.

It wasn't difficult to achieve—he left early each morning and returned late, making it easy to maintain your silent treatment. When you did cross paths, you responded to his polite inquiries with minimal words, never meeting his eyes, never lingering in the same room longer than necessary.

If he noticed your deliberate avoidance (and you knew he did—Sunghoon noticed everything), he made no comment. The polite mask he'd perfected over years of diplomatic service remained firmly in place, betraying nothing of whatever thoughts might be churning beneath.

On the fourth day, you arrived home earlier than usual. Your shift had ended unexpectedly when the magical ailment you'd been treating—a case of enchanted hiccups that caused the patient to float six inches off the ground with each spasm—had suddenly resolved itself. As you quietly entered the house, you heard Sunghoon's voice drifting from his study.

You paused in the hallway, wondering if he had a Floo call with the Ministry. But the soft tone of his voice and the occasional pauses suggested a different kind of conversation entirely.

Curious, you moved closer to the partially open door.

"She's still not talking to me," Sunghoon was saying, his voice lacking its usual composure. "Can't say I blame her."

A familiar meow responded.

"I know, I know," he sighed. "I messed up. But what was I supposed to do?"

You edged closer, peering through the crack in the door. Sunghoon sat at his desk, a forgotten cup of tea beside an open journal. Nyx was perched on top of his papers, her yellow eyes fixed on him as he ran a hand through his usually impeccable hair, leaving it charmingly disheveled.

"It was getting too real," he told the cat quietly. "Too important."

Nyx chirped, a sound somewhere between a meow and a trill.

"That's easy for you to say," he replied with a sad smile. "You've never had your heart broken, have you, my baby?"

The endearment—never before used for the cat—made your heart twist painfully in your chest.

"Your mum deserves better than this," he continued, absently scratching behind Nyx's ears. "Better than someone who can't even..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

Nyx butted her head against his hand, purring loudly.

"I miss her," Sunghoon admitted softly, his voice cracking slightly. "It's ridiculous. She's right down the hall and I miss her like she's gone."

The simple confession, spoken when he thought no one was listening, created a complicated ache beneath your ribs. If he missed you, if he cared, why push you away?

"It's safer this way," he murmured, as if answering your unspoken question. "For both of us. The Ministry could end this any time, and then what? I go back to my empty apartment and pretend none of it mattered?"

Nyx meowed again, more insistently.

"You're biased," Sunghoon told her with a hint of his old humor. "Just because she rescued you from that alley doesn't mean she always knows best. She married me, didn't she?"

The self-deprecating joke—so unlike Sunghoon's usual confident demeanor—caught you by surprise.

"Though that wasn't really her choice," he added, his voice softening. "Neither of us chose this, Nyxie. That's what scares me."

He fell silent then, gently stroking Nyx's fur, his face unguarded in a way you'd rarely seen. The pain in his expression was so raw, so human, that you stepped back, suddenly uncomfortable with your eavesdropping. This wasn't the composed diplomat you'd first met. This was just a man—confused, hurting, and afraid of losing something precious before he was ready to admit how much it meant to him.

You retreated quietly to the kitchen, making deliberate noise as you prepared tea, giving Sunghoon time to compose himself before he realized you were home.

When he finally emerged from his study, Nyx trotting at his heels, the mask was mostly back in place—though you could see the slight redness around his eyes, the subtle tension in his shoulders. Something in your chest ached at how hard he was trying to hide his feelings.

"You're home early," he said, his voice carefully steady.

"Case resolved itself," you replied without looking up from your tea.

A silence fell, weighted with everything unsaid. Sunghoon lingered in the doorway a moment longer than necessary, as if wanting to say more. Then, with a small nod, he retreated to his study, Nyx hesitating before following him with a backward glance at you that seemed almost apologetic.

That night, lying alone in the guest bedroom that had become your refuge, you stared at the ceiling and wondered how two people sharing a home could feel so completely separated. Not by walls or distance, but by fear—his fear of vulnerability, of loss, of attachment he couldn't control.

Perhaps the most painful realization was that Sunghoon wasn't cold or unfeeling as you'd first thought. He felt too much, and that terrified him more than anything.

Journal Entry: 2 May 2023

Three days of silence. I never thought I'd miss her voice this much.

She still won't look at me. Can't blame her, really. I wouldn't look at me either.

Nyx seems confused by the tension. She keeps looking between us like she's trying to figure out what went wrong. Smart cat. I wish she could tell me how to fix this without making it worse in the long run.

The Ministry assessment is in 18 days. I should be focused on that. Instead, I keep remembering how she looked at me that night—like I'd broken something precious. I suppose I did.

I'm not sleeping well. The bed feels wrong without her. Everything feels wrong.

She laughed in the kitchen yesterday. I was passing by the door and heard it—someone must have sent her a funny owl. For a second, I almost walked in just to see her smile. I stood there like an idiot, hand on the doorknob, unable to move.

This is for the best. It has to be. When the Ministry eventually dissolves these arrangements, clean breaks will be easier than messy ones. I know this. I've seen what happens when people get too attached to things that were never meant to last.

And yet.

I called Nyx "my baby" today. When did that happen? When did her cat become our cat become my baby?

The house feels empty even when we're both in it.

I miss her.

—Sunghoon

The Ministry owl arrived at precisely 6:17 AM on a Tuesday morning, tapping insistently at the kitchen window while you prepared your tea. Your silent standoff with Sunghoon had entered its second week, the atmosphere in the house growing increasingly strained despite his tentative attempts to bridge the gap.

The envelope bore the Ministry's official seal—a sight that never brought good news. With a sigh, you opened it, scanning the contents quickly.

OFFICIAL NOTIFICATION MANDATORY MARRIAGE UNITY RETREAT MAY 12-15

Mr. and Mrs. Park,

As per Section 17.3 of the Marriage Unity Act, you are hereby required to attend the Ministry's Three-Month Compatibility Enhancement Retreat at Briar Rose Cottage in the Lake District. This mandatory three-day program facilitates deeper bonding between Ministry-matched couples through supervised therapeutic activities.

Failure to attend constitutes non-compliance with your marriage requirements.

A portkey will activate at your residence at 9:00 AM on May 12th.

Cordially, Euphemia Howell Marriage Compliance Office

You were still staring at the letter when Sunghoon entered the kitchen, his hair damp from the shower, his expression carefully neutral as it had been since your confrontation.

"Good morning," he said, the greeting so formal it made your teeth ache.

You wordlessly handed him the letter, watching as he read it with growing tension around his eyes.

"The retreat," he said flatly. "I'd hoped they might overlook it."

"Apparently not," you replied, your first full sentence to him in days.

Sunghoon set the letter down carefully. "I'll make the necessary arrangements at the Ministry. My schedule can be adjusted."

"How accommodating of you," you said, unable to keep the edge from your voice.

His eyes met yours directly for the first time in days, something flickering in their depths. "Y/N—"

"It's fine," you interrupted, not ready for whatever carefully measured statement he was preparing. "We'll go, we'll convince them we're just fine, and we'll come back to our perfectly efficient cohabitation arrangement."

You left the kitchen before he could respond, the bitter taste in your mouth having nothing to do with your cooling tea.

The morning of the retreat arrived with gloomy skies that matched your mood perfectly. You packed with minimal enthusiasm, throwing clothes into a bag without your usual care. What did it matter what you wore to pretend to be happily married to someone who couldn't bear the thought of actually caring for you?

Sunghoon was already in the living room when you came downstairs, his own bag precisely packed beside him, Nyx curled in his lap. The sight of them together—Sunghoon absently stroking the cat while she purred contentedly—created a familiar ache in your chest.

"The portkey will activate in seven minutes," he said, glancing up as you entered. His expression softened slightly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough," you lied. In truth, you'd barely slept at all, anxiety about the upcoming retreat keeping you awake until the early hours.

Sunghoon nodded, clearly not believing you but not pressing the issue. He gently moved Nyx to the sofa cushion, murmuring something that sounded suspiciously like "Be good, Nyxie. Okay?" before standing to face you.

"I've arranged for Healer Matthews to check on Nyx tomorrow," he said, adjusting his perfectly straight collar. "And I've left extra food in her enchanted bowl."

The fact that he'd thought of Nyx's care—that he'd made arrangements for "your" cat without being asked—made something twist painfully in your chest. How could he be so thoughtful in some ways and so infuriatingly closed off in others?

"Thank you," you said simply, your anger momentarily deflated by this small kindness.

Sunghoon nodded once, retrieving a tarnished silver hairbrush from the coffee table. "This is the portkey. It will activate in approximately three minutes."

You moved to stand beside him, close enough to touch but maintaining a careful distance. The silence between you felt heavier than usual, weighted with the prospect of three days in close quarters under the Ministry's watchful eye.

"It won't be as bad as you think," Sunghoon said suddenly, his voice softer than you expected.

You glanced up, surprised by this attempt at reassurance. "Won't it?"

Something flickered in his eyes—vulnerability, perhaps, quickly masked. "We've managed more difficult challenges."

Before you could respond, the hairbrush began to glow. Sunghoon held it out, and you placed your finger reluctantly against the handle. The familiar, unpleasant jerk behind your navel swept you away, the world spinning in a kaleidoscope of color before resolving into a picturesque cottage garden.

Briar Rose Cottage was undeniably charming—a quaint stone building covered in climbing roses, nestled against a backdrop of rolling hills and the glittering surface of a lake in the distance. In other circumstances, you might have found it breathtaking.

"Mr. and Mrs. Park!" A cheerful voice called from the cottage doorway. A plump witch with rosy cheeks and a clipboard hurried toward you. "Welcome to your Marriage Unity Retreat! I'm Facilitator Penelope, your guide to deeper connection!"

Her enthusiasm was so at odds with the tension between you and Sunghoon that you almost laughed. Beside you, Sunghoon straightened his already perfect posture, slipping into his diplomatic persona with practiced ease.

"Thank you for the welcome," he said smoothly. "We're pleased to be here."

"Delighted!" Facilitator Penelope beamed, checking something off on her clipboard. "Now, let me show you to your cottage. You're in the Primrose Suite—our most romantic accommodation!"

She led you down a winding garden path to a smaller cottage set apart from the main building. The interior was just as charming as the exterior—a cozy sitting room with a crackling fire, a small kitchenette, and a single bedroom visible through an open door, dominated by an enormous four-poster bed strewn with rose petals.

"The bedroom has been specially enchanted for maximum intimacy," Penelope explained with a wink that made you want to sink through the floor. "The roses are self-replenishing, and the lighting adjusts to create the perfect mood!"

Sunghoon's expression remained perfectly neutral, though you noticed the slight tightening of his jaw. "How... thoughtful."

"Your orientation session begins in the main hall at eleven," Penelope continued, apparently oblivious to your discomfort. "That gives you a full hour to get settled in. The handbook on the table outlines all retreat activities. I'll leave you to get... comfortable."

With another suggestive wink, she bustled out, leaving you and Sunghoon in awkward silence.

"Well," you said finally, dropping your bag onto a nearby chair. "This is... a lot."

"Indeed," Sunghoon agreed, picking up the handbook with a slight frown. "According to this, we have a full schedule of 'bonding exercises' planned for the next three days."

You moved to read over his shoulder, uncomfortably aware of his proximity and the familiar scent of his cologne. The handbook listed activities like "Emotional Vulnerability Sessions," "Physical Connection Workshops," and "Guided Intimacy Meditation."

"This is a nightmare," you muttered, stepping away from him.

To your surprise, Sunghoon didn't disagree. "Some of these activities appear designed to create artificial emotional responses through environmental and psychological manipulation."

"You mean they're trying to force us to feel connected," you translated.

"Precisely." He closed the handbook, his expression thoughtful. "However, I believe we have an alternative option."

"Which is?"

"We don't participate."

You stared at him, certain you'd misheard. "But it's mandatory. The letter said—"

"The letter required our attendance at the retreat," Sunghoon corrected. "It did not specify mandatory participation in every scheduled activity."

"So what do you suggest?" you asked, confused by this unexpectedly rebellious stance from someone who typically followed rules to the letter.

"I suggest," he said carefully, "that we register our arrival, make brief appearances at meal times, and otherwise remain in our cottage."

"Just... hide out here for three days?"

"It would be significantly less uncomfortable than participating in 'guided intimacy meditation,' would it not?" He raised an eyebrow, a hint of his dry humor briefly visible.

Despite yourself, you felt a smile tugging at your lips. "I can't argue with that."

Sunghoon nodded once, as if the matter were settled. "I'll inform Facilitator Penelope that you're feeling unwell and need to rest. Food can be brought to the cottage. We can use the time to catch up on work or reading."

The practicality of his solution was so characteristically Sunghoon that it almost made your heart ache. Even now, with things broken between you, he was trying to make the situation more comfortable for you.

"Thank you," you said quietly. "That's... considerate."

Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, unguarded moment before his usual reserve returned. "The retreat's methods are invasive and manipulative. Neither of us should be subjected to them."

Before you could respond, a knock at the door announced Facilitator Penelope's return. Sunghoon straightened his already perfect posture and went to answer it.

"Just checking how you're settling in!" Penelope chirped, trying to peer past him into the cottage.

"Actually," Sunghoon said, his voice taking on the smooth, authoritative tone he used in diplomatic negotiations, "I'm afraid my wife isn't feeling well. The portkey travel was unusually difficult for her."

You quickly sat on the sofa, doing your best to look pale and distressed. It wasn't difficult, given the circumstances.

"Oh dear!" Penelope's cheerful face creased with concern. "Would you like me to call in our healer?"

"That won't be necessary," Sunghoon assured her. "She simply needs rest. We'll need to skip today's activities, I'm afraid."

Penelope looked momentarily flustered. "But the opening ceremony is crucial for establishing group dynamics! And the vulnerability circle is the foundation of the entire retreat experience!"

"I'm sure they are," Sunghoon replied, his tone gently implacable. "However, my wife's health must be the priority. Perhaps we can join tomorrow if she's feeling better."

There was something in the way he said "my wife"—a subtle emphasis, a hint of genuine protectiveness—that made your heart flutter traitorously in your chest.

"Well... I suppose health comes first," Penelope conceded reluctantly. "I'll have meals sent to your cottage. But please do try to join us tomorrow if possible. The magical bond strengthening ceremony cannot be rescheduled."

"We'll do our very best," Sunghoon promised with diplomatic gravity.

After Penelope left, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. "That was impressive. I'd almost believe I was actually ill."

"Years of diplomatic training have some practical applications," Sunghoon replied, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in what you now recognized as his version of a smile. "We should be left in peace until dinner at least."

An awkward silence fell as you both realized you were now effectively trapped together in the small cottage with nothing but the tension between you for company.

"I brought some patient files to review," you said, moving toward your bag.

"And I have correspondence to answer," Sunghoon nodded, reaching for his own satchel.

You settled on opposite ends of the sofa, carefully maintaining the distance between you as you worked in silence. But unlike the strained atmosphere of the past week, this silence felt almost... peaceful. There was something almost comforting about sitting with Sunghoon like this, each absorbed in your own work but aware of the other's presence.

Hours passed this way, the silence broken only by the occasional turning of pages or scratch of Sunghoon's quill. Outside, rain began to fall, pattering against the windows and enhancing the cottage's cozy atmosphere despite the awkwardness of your situation.

When lunch arrived—a basket filled with sandwiches, fruit, and two bottles of pumpkin juice—you were surprised to find yourself actually hungry.

"It seems hiding from enforced bonding activities improves the appetite," you observed, selecting a sandwich.

Sunghoon looked up from his correspondence, that almost-smile appearing briefly. "A study should be conducted. The Ministry might reconsider their methodologies."

The small joke—so understated and typically Sunghoon—caught you off guard. For a moment, it felt like before—before the storm night, before the closeness, before the painful withdrawal. Just the two of you, finding unexpected moments of connection in your arranged circumstance.

"I've missed this," you said without thinking, then immediately regretted the admission.

Sunghoon went very still, his sandwich halfway to his mouth. "Missed what?"

You hesitated, then decided honesty couldn't make things worse than they already were. "Just... talking. Being comfortable. Before everything got so complicated."

He set down his sandwich with careful precision, his expression unreadable. "I've missed it too."

The simple admission hung in the air between you, more meaningful than it should have been.

"Why did you pull away?" you asked finally, the question that had been burning inside you for weeks finally escaping. "We were good together, Sunghoon. Maybe it wasn't planned, maybe it wasn't what either of us expected, but it was real. I know it was."

Sunghoon was silent for so long you thought he might not answer. Then, with uncharacteristic hesitancy: "It was too real."

"What does that even mean?"

He looked at you directly, his carefully maintained composure slipping to reveal something raw beneath. "I don't know how to do this, Y/N. I don't know how to feel this much for someone the Ministry could take away with the stroke of a pen."

The bare honesty of his admission took your breath away. "So you decided to take yourself away first? To protect yourself?"

"To protect us both," he corrected quietly. "Attachments in temporary situations lead to pain. I've seen it happen. I've—" He stopped, something vulnerable flashing across his face. "I've experienced it."

Understanding dawned. "Who was it?"

Sunghoon's jaw tightened, but he didn't pretend to misunderstand. "My mother," he said finally. "She fell in love with a diplomat from another country. When his assignment ended, he left. She never recovered."

"I'm not going to leave you, Sunghoon," you said softly.

"You might not have a choice," he replied, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "The Ministry created this marriage; they can dissolve it just as easily when their population goals are achieved."

"So your solution is to never let yourself care? To never let yourself have anything real because you might lose it someday?" You shook your head, your own emotions rising to the surface. "That's not living, Sunghoon. That's just existing."

"It's safer," he said simply.

"It's lonely," you countered. "And you know what? It didn't work. You still cared. You still got attached. I heard you talking to Nyx."

Sunghoon went very still. "What?"

"I came home early one day last week. I heard you in your study, talking to Nyx." You held his gaze steadily. "You called her 'my baby.' You talked about missing me."

A faint color rose in his cheeks, but he didn't look away. "You weren't meant to hear that."

"But I did. And it told me what you wouldn't—that pushing me away didn't stop you from caring. It just made you miserable." You leaned forward, holding his gaze. "It made us both miserable."

Sunghoon's expression flickered, his careful mask cracking to reveal the conflict beneath. "What would you have me do, Y/N? Pretend this isn't temporary? Pretend we chose each other?"

"No," you said quietly. "I'd have you acknowledge what's already happened. We didn't choose each other, but we did choose to make something real out of this arrangement. We chose each other every day for those few weeks. And it was good, Sunghoon. It was so good."

"And when it ends?" he asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper.

"Then we'll have had something real," you said simply. "Isn't that better than nothing at all?"

Sunghoon looked away, gazing out at the rain-streaked windows. The silence stretched between you, weighted with the enormity of what you were asking him to risk.

"I don't know if I can," he admitted finally, the words clearly difficult for him. "I don't know if I have the courage for it."

His raw honesty, the vulnerability in his admission, touched something deep in your chest. This wasn't the polished diplomat or the analytical perfectionist. This was just Sunghoon—afraid, uncertain, but finally, completely real with you.

"You were brave enough to call Nyx our daughter," you reminded him gently. "You were brave enough to tell me you needed me. Maybe you can be brave enough for this too."

Sunghoon turned back to you, something shifting in his expression. "You make me want to be," he said quietly. "That's what terrifies me."

The simple admission, spoken without calculation or reserve, made your heart flip in your chest. "Sunghoon—"

A sharp knock at the door interrupted whatever you might have said. Sunghoon's expression instantly closed, his diplomatic mask sliding back into place as he rose to answer it.

Facilitator Penelope stood on the threshold, beaming despite the rain dampening her robes. "Just checking on our patient! Feeling any better, Mrs. Park?"

You summoned a weak smile. "Still a bit queasy, I'm afraid."

"Oh dear," Penelope's face fell momentarily before brightening again. "Well, I've brought you both a special tea from our healer! It promotes wellness and—" she lowered her voice conspiratorially "—fertility!"

Sunghoon accepted the steaming mugs with admirable composure, though you noticed the slight tightening around his eyes. "How thoughtful."

"The evening bonding ceremony will begin at seven," Penelope continued cheerfully. "It's a beautiful ritual involving synchronized heartbeat spells! Very powerful for marital harmony!"

"We'll try to attend if my wife's condition improves," Sunghoon assured her, though his tone made it clear this was extremely unlikely.

After Penelope departed, Sunghoon set the mugs down on the table with obvious distaste. "I believe we can safely assume these contain potions designed to lower inhibitions and increase suggestibility."

You eyed the suspiciously shimmering liquid. "So much for the Ministry's ethical standards."

"Indeed." He returned to his seat, slightly closer to you than before. "It seems our conversation must be continued against a backdrop of increasingly invasive Ministry interventions."

"We don't have to continue it," you said carefully, giving him an out if he needed it.

Sunghoon studied you for a moment, something resolving in his expression. "I believe we do," he said quietly. "However uncomfortable it might be."

Your heart gave a hopeful flutter. "Okay."

He took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for something difficult. "I apologize for the way I handled things after... after we became intimate. It wasn't well done of me."

The formal phrasing was so characteristically Sunghoon that it almost made you smile despite the seriousness of the moment. "You hurt me," you said simply.

"I know." His voice was low, heavy with regret. "I panicked. The intensity of what I was feeling—it wasn't something I was prepared for. I've spent my life constructing systems to manage emotions, to keep them within acceptable parameters."

"And I disrupted those systems," you guessed.

"Completely," he agreed, a hint of something almost like wonder in his voice. "You made me feel things I couldn't categorize or control. It was... overwhelming."

"So you shut down."

"It seemed the logical solution at the time." A faint, self-deprecating smile touched his lips. "I'm beginning to understand it might not have been."

You reached out, touching his hand lightly. "Feelings aren't logical, Sunghoon. They never have been."

He turned his hand over, catching your fingers in his. "I'm not good at this," he admitted, the simple touch seeming to ground him. "I don't know how to be what you need."

"I don't need you to be anything other than what you are," you told him. "I just need you to be honest—with me and with yourself."

Sunghoon's fingers tightened around yours. "When I'm with you, I feel... complete," he said, the words clearly difficult for him. "As if a part of me I didn't know was missing has been found. It's irrational. Unquantifiable. Terrifying."

"It's called falling in love, Sunghoon," you said softly.

His eyes met yours, startled by your directness. "Is that what this is?"

"I think you know it is," you said, your heart pounding as you took this final risk. "I know I do."

For a moment, Sunghoon simply looked at you, something complex and unreadable moving in his eyes. Then, with deliberate slowness, he raised his free hand to your cheek.

"I've been so afraid of losing you that I pushed you away," he said quietly. "That doesn't seem particularly logical in retrospect."

A smile touched your lips. "Not your finest strategic decision."

"No," he agreed, his thumb tracing your cheekbone with exquisite gentleness. "But I believe I've developed a better approach."

"Which is?"

"To stop fighting what I feel for you," he said simply. "To accept that some things can't be managed or controlled—they can only be experienced."

Your breath caught at the raw honesty in his voice. "Sunghoon—"

"I love you," he said, the words clear and certain, as if once decided, there could be no hesitation. "I don't know when it happened or how, but I do. And I'm tired of pretending otherwise."

The simple declaration, spoken without qualification or analysis, made your heart soar. You reached for him, drawing him closer. "Say it again."

A smile—a real, unguarded smile that transformed his entire face—curved his lips. "I love you, angel."

This time, when his lips met yours, there was no hesitation, no careful calculation—just the pure, honest connection of two people who had found each other despite everything.

The kiss deepened quickly, weeks of distance and longing crystallizing into urgent need. Sunghoon's arms drew you against him, your body molding to his as if returning to its natural state.

"I've missed you," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with emotion. "So much."

"I've missed you too," you whispered, your hands finding their way into his hair, disheveling his perfect appearance in the way you'd learned he secretly loved.

When you finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Sunghoon rested his forehead against yours. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere more comfortable," he suggested, his eyes darting toward the bedroom door.

"I thought you'd never ask," you smiled, rising and pulling him with you.

The bedroom, with its enormous four-poster and enchanted rose petals, might have seemed tacky under other circumstances. But as Sunghoon closed the door behind you, all that mattered was the way he looked at you—like you were precious, irreplaceable, essential.

His hands framed your face with exquisite tenderness, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure about this? About me?"

"I've never been more sure of anything," you told him, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. "I love you, Sunghoon. All of you—the analytical parts, the diplomatic parts, the parts that talk to our cat when you think no one's listening."

A laugh—a genuine, unguarded sound that you'd heard so rarely—escaped him. "I thought I'd imagined you calling her 'our daughter' that night," he admitted, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "When you heard me talking to her—"

"It made me love you even more," you said simply.

Something in his expression shifted, softened, opened completely. Then, with deliberate gentleness, he lowered his mouth to yours.

But Sunghoon surprised you. He pulled away.

You had expected something hungry, desperate, hurried—the way he had kissed you downstairs, the way his hands had gripped your waist like he couldn't stand not touching you.

But now, standing before you, he was achingly gentle.

His hands hovered over your shoulders before finally resting there, thumbs smoothing over your skin as he leaned in, brushing his lips over yours, so soft, so patient, as if giving you one last chance to stop him.

When you didn’t, he exhaled sharply, like he had been holding his breath.

His fingers trailed down your arms, delicate yet unwavering, before reaching for the hem of your shirt. Slowly—painstakingly slowly—he lifted it, his knuckles grazing your ribs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Every patch of skin revealed was met with his lips. Every inch of you, memorized.

"You are beautiful, my beautiful wifel," he murmured against your collarbone, so softly that the words barely reached you. But you heard them. You felt them.

A shiver ran through you—not just from his touch, but from the way he said it, like he truly meant it.

Sunghoon didn’t rush.

If anything, he seemed to be pacing himself, like he was afraid to move too fast, afraid to miss anything. He traced your body with his hands, his lips following, as if this moment deserved to be experienced, not just lived through.

When he finally reached for his own shirt, your hands beat him to it.

Sunghoon stilled, his breath hitching when your fingers brushed over his stomach, his skin warm under your palms. You felt the faintest tremor when you dragged your nails up his chest—his muscles flexing involuntarily, his heartbeat hammering beneath your touch.

His reaction was intoxicating.

Sunghoon—composed, controlled Sunghoon—undone by you.

His usual restraint cracked the moment you leaned forward, lips brushing, then pressing against the line of his throat.

"Angel," he whispered, voice rougher than before, his hands tightening on your waist.

It was the way he said it—the sheer need in his voice—that made heat bloom deep in your belly.

"I need—"

"I know," you assured him, pulling him closer, molding yourself against him. "Me too."

His control snapped.

Sunghoon had always been meticulous. Attentive. A perfectionist to the core.

But that didn’t prepare you for the way he touched you now.

Like you were something precious. Like every sound you made was a revelation.

He moved slowly, mapping you with his lips, his hands, his breath—learning you, adjusting, testing what made you sigh, what made you shudder, what made you tremble.

And when he found the places that made your breath stutter, he lingered.

He kissed down your stomach, his hands smoothing over your thighs, parting them with reverence. And when his lips replaced his hands warm, deliberate, insistent—you gasped his name.

That sound—his name, shaped by your pleasure—did something to him.

His fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as he worked you open, devastatingly precise, like he was memorizing the way your body responded to him.

And it wasn’t just what he was doing—it was the way he looked at you.

His dark eyes, locked onto yours, watching every reaction, like he needed to see you fall apart for him.

This was Sunghoon, letting you in.

When he finally pressed himself against you, his body molding to yours, he hesitated.

A brief, flickering moment of uncertainty.

You lifted your hand to his cheek, tilting his face toward yours. "It's just us, Hoon."

His breath shook.

And when he finally moved, it was everything.

Slow. Deep. Unbelievably tender.

And when he kissed you, you swore you could taste devotion on his lips.

Later, as you lay tangled together in the ridiculous rose-covered bed, Sunghoon traced abstract patterns on your bare shoulder, his expression thoughtful.

"What are you thinking?" you asked, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"That I owe Facilitator Penelope a thank you," he replied, surprising a laugh from you.

"For the fertility tea we didn't drink?"

"For creating the circumstances that finally forced me to be honest," he corrected, his fingers trailing down your spine. "Though I still have no intention of participating in synchronized heartbeat spells."

You laughed again, the sound drawing a smile from him. "Me neither. I think we're managing just fine on our own."

His expression grew serious again, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "I can't promise I won't be afraid sometimes," he said quietly. "This is... new territory for me."

"For both of us," you assured him. "We'll figure it out together."

Sunghoon nodded, something settling in his expression. "Together," he agreed, the word clearly significant to him. "I like the sound of that."

As twilight deepened outside the cottage windows, neither of you made any move to join the evening's activities. The Ministry's mandatory retreat continued without you, the synchronized heartbeat spells and vulnerability exercises proceeding as scheduled while you remained wrapped in each other's arms, creating your own, far more genuine connection.

Later, when dinner arrived via a house-elf who tactfully avoided looking at your disheveled state, Sunghoon accepted the tray with grave courtesy before returning to bed, where you ate between kisses and shared confidences.

"Do you think we should make an appearance tomorrow?" you asked as night fell completely, your head resting on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear.

"I think," Sunghoon said thoughtfully, his fingers tracing lazy patterns in your hair, "that we've already achieved what the retreat intended. Perhaps more effectively than their methods could have managed."

You smiled against his skin. "So that's a no?"

"That's a 'I have no intention of sharing you with anyone for the next two days,'" he clarified, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Mmm, I like this plan," you murmured, settling more comfortably against him. "Very efficient use of our mandatory retreat time."

"I thought you'd approve," he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice—that rare, genuine expression that you now knew was reserved just for you.

Outside, the rain continued to fall gently on the cottage roof. In the main hall, the Ministry's retreat activities carried on without you. But in your rose-scented bedroom, you'd found everything the Ministry had hoped to create and more—not through spells or enforced exercises, but through the simple, profound courage of allowing yourselves to love despite the risks.

As you drifted toward sleep in Sunghoon's arms, you realized that sometimes, the most unlikely beginnings could lead to the most beautiful journeys—if only you were brave enough to take the first step.

And finally, both of you were.

The Ministry portkey deposited you both in your living room with the usual disorienting lurch, your bags landing neatly beside you. After three days secluded in the cottage, the familiar surroundings of your home felt both welcoming and slightly strange, as if you were seeing it through new eyes.

"Home sweet home," you murmured, steadying yourself against Sunghoon's arm.

"Indeed," he agreed, his free hand automatically reaching to straighten a picture frame that had tilted during your arrival. Some habits, it seemed, would never change.

A loud meow announced Nyx's presence before she came tearing around the corner, tail high and vibrating with indignation at having been abandoned for three days. She wound herself between your legs, then Sunghoon's, her complaints echoing off the walls.

"Yes, we missed you too," you told her, bending to scratch behind her ears.

To your surprise, Sunghoon crouched down beside you, extending his hand to the aggrieved cat. "I apologize for our absence," he said with complete seriousness. "It was a Ministry requirement, not a voluntary abandonment."

Nyx butted her head against his palm, her purr starting up like a small engine.

"She forgives you faster than she forgives me," you observed with a smile.

"Strategic diplomacy," Sunghoon replied, though his eyes held a warmth that belied the formal words. "I believe bribes may be necessary to fully restore relations."

As if understanding his words, Nyx trotted toward the kitchen, pausing to look back expectantly.

"Our daughter appears to be suggesting dinner," Sunghoon said, rising and offering you his hand.

You took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet and into his arms in one smooth motion. "I'd say she has her priorities straight."

Sunghoon's arms tightened around you, his eyes softening as they met yours. "Food can wait," he murmured, lowering his head to catch your lips in a kiss that made your toes curl.

You melted against him, still marveling at this new version of Sunghoon—one who initiated affection without hesitation, who held you as if afraid you might disappear if he let go. Three days away from the Ministry's watchful eye, three days of honesty and reconnection, had transformed something between you—not erasing his reserved nature, but allowing the warmth beneath to emerge without calculation or restraint.

"Mmm," you sighed when you finally broke apart. "I could get used to being greeted like that."

A small smile curved his lips. "I intend to make it a regular occurrence."

Nyx meowed again, more insistently this time.

"However," Sunghoon added, his expression turning serious, "it appears we have a diplomatic crisis requiring immediate attention."

You laughed, the sound drawing another of those rare, genuine smiles from him. "Heaven forbid we keep the ambassador waiting."

Together, you moved to the kitchen, Nyx trotting ahead with her tail held high in triumph. As Sunghoon prepared her food with his characteristic precision—exactly two scoops, carefully placed in the center of her bowl—you found yourself studying him, still adjusting to the new reality between you.

He looked the same—perfectly pressed robes, immaculate hair, posture straight enough to make a finishing school teacher weep with joy. But there was something different in the way he moved now, a subtle ease that hadn't been there before. The rigid control that had characterized his every gesture had softened, not into sloppiness but into a more natural grace.

When he caught you watching, his eyebrow raised in silent question.

"Nothing," you said, smiling. "Just... happy to be home."

Something flickered in his eyes—warm, intimate, just for you. "As am I, angel."

The simple endearment, now spoken with genuine affection rather than calculated familiarity, sent a pleasant warmth through your chest. Sunghoon moved to the refrigerator, assessing its contents with his usual methodical approach.

"Limited options," he observed. "I don't suppose you'd object to takeaway?"

"Sounds perfect," you agreed, leaning against the counter. "I don't think either of us is in the mood for cooking tonight."

A hint of color rose in Sunghoon's cheeks, his mind clearly revisiting the same memories as yours—of lazy meals in bed, of conversations that stretched into the night, of rediscovering each other with unhurried thoroughness. "Indeed," he said, his voice slightly lower than usual. "We have been... otherwise occupied."

The kitchen suddenly felt several degrees warmer. "Those Ministry retreat cottages certainly provided plenty of... activities," you said innocently.

Sunghoon's eyes darkened. "None of which appeared in their official program."

You laughed, the tension breaking as Sunghoon's lips curved into a small smile. "I'm going to shower while we wait for food," you said, pushing away from the counter. "I feel like I still have rose petals in my hair."

"You do," Sunghoon confirmed, reaching out to pluck a tiny dried petal from behind your ear. "Just here."

His fingers lingered against your skin, the simple touch charged with meaning after everything you'd shared. For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in the gravity of the other's presence.

Then Nyx, finished with her dinner, jumped onto the counter between you, breaking the moment.

"Boundaries, daughter," Sunghoon told her, though his tone held no real reproach as he gently set her back on the floor. "We've discussed this."

You shook your head, smiling as you headed for the stairs. "Good luck with that particular diplomatic negotiation. She's outmaneuvered you from day one."

"A temporary tactical advantage," Sunghoon called after you. "I'm developing countermeasures."

Your laughter followed you up the stairs, a lightness in your step that had been missing during the painful weeks of distance. The shower was blissfully hot, washing away the last traces of portkey travel and Ministry interference. As you dried your hair, you could hear Sunghoon moving around downstairs, the familiar sounds of his precise movements oddly comforting.

When you came back downstairs, wearing comfortable pajamas despite the early hour, you found the living room transformed. The lights had been dimmed, a fire crackling in the hearth despite the mild spring evening. Cushions and throw blankets had been arranged on the floor before the fire, and the coffee table held an array of containers from your favorite Indian restaurant.

Sunghoon stood beside this arrangement, looking almost uncertain. "I thought you might prefer a relaxed dinner," he said, his tone casual though his eyes watched you carefully for your reaction.

"It's perfect," you said softly, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture. "When did you have time to arrange all this?"

"Efficient time management," he replied, though the slight color in his cheeks suggested he'd moved rather quickly to create this surprise. "The restaurant is only a brief Floo call away."

You moved to him, rising on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."

His arm curved around your waist, holding you close for a moment longer than necessary. "You're welcome, angel."

Dinner was a relaxed affair, both of you sitting cross-legged on the cushions, sharing food directly from the containers in a way that would have been unthinkable a month ago. Sunghoon had even changed into casual trousers and a simple shirt—an outfit you'd rarely seen him wear.

"The Ministry assessment is next week," he said as you both finished eating, his tone carefully neutral.

You set down your fork, stomach tightening slightly at the reminder. "Tuesday, isn't it?"

Sunghoon nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Given our attendance at the retreat, they may be more... thorough in their evaluation."

"Because we skipped all the activities?"

"It's possible they've been informed of our non-participation," he confirmed, though he didn't look particularly concerned. "However, I believe our current situation will more than satisfy their requirements."

You smiled, reaching for his hand across the blankets. "You mean the fact that we're actually happy together now?"

His fingers entwined with yours, his thumb tracing small circles on your palm. "Precisely. Though I anticipate they'll have a considerably more invasive set of questions this time."

"Let them ask," you said simply. "We have nothing to hide anymore."

Something flickered in Sunghoon's eyes—a vulnerability that still caught you off guard when it appeared. "No," he agreed softly. "No more hiding."

Nyx chose that moment to insert herself into the conversation, stepping delicately onto Sunghoon's lap and turning three precise circles before settling down with a contented purr.

"I see you've been claimed," you observed, smiling at the sight of your proper, dignified husband absently stroking the cat while she kneaded his leg.

"We've negotiated a mutual non-aggression pact," Sunghoon replied, though the gentle way his fingers moved through Nyx's fur belied the formal description. "She permits me to occupy the residence; I acknowledge her territorial sovereignty."

You laughed, the sound drawing Sunghoon's eyes to your face with unexpected intensity.

"What?" you asked, self-conscious under his steady gaze.

"I like hearing you laugh," he said simply. "I missed it... before."

Before. Such a small word to encompass the painful weeks of distance, the walls built between you, the careful avoidance of anything real.

"I missed a lot of things before," you replied softly. "I'm glad we found our way back."

Sunghoon's expression softened into something almost vulnerable. "As am I." He hesitated, then added quietly, "I'm sorry it took me so long to find the courage."

"You found it," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "That's what matters."

He nodded, something settling in his expression. "The Ministry's requirements brought us together, but what's between us now is our choice. Our creation. Not theirs."

"Our very own diplomatic treaty," you teased gently.

A smile—small but genuine—curved his lips. "With considerably more pleasant negotiation methods than I'm accustomed to."

"Speaking of pleasant negotiations," you said, moving to sit beside him, your shoulder brushing his. "I believe we were discussing Ministry assessments?"

Sunghoon's arm came around you, drawing you against his side as if it were the most natural gesture in the world—which, perhaps, it now was. "I believe we've covered the essential points," he murmured, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear that he'd discovered during your time at the cottage.

"Mmm," you sighed, tilting your head to give him better access. "You're sure? No additional preparations required?"

"Perhaps some practical exercises," he suggested, his voice dropping lower. "To ensure consistent performance."

You laughed, turning in his arms to face him properly. "Always so thorough, Mr. Park."

"In all important matters, Mrs. Park," he agreed seriously, though his eyes held a warmth that made your heart flutter. "And nothing is more important than this."

Later, as you lay tangled together in the bed that now truly felt shared, Sunghoon's fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare shoulder.

"I never expected this," he murmured, his voice soft in the darkness.

"What?" you asked, nestled against his chest.

"Happiness," he said simply. "Real happiness, not just satisfaction or achievement or proper functioning. This... completeness."

The unguarded admission, so unlike his usually measured statements, created a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with physical pleasure. "I never expected you," you replied honestly. "The real you, under all those perfect manners and diplomatic phrases."

His arms tightened around you. "For a long time, I wasn't sure the real me existed anymore," he admitted. "I'd spent so many years becoming what was required—the perfect son, the perfect diplomat, the perfect Ministry employee. You made me remember there was more."

You pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. "I like all the versions of you," you told him. "Even the infuriatingly proper one who measured appropriate hand-holding distance."

A soft chuckle—still rare enough to be precious—rumbled through his chest. "I believe those measurements may require revision," he said, his hand finding yours and entwining your fingers. "Current data suggests significantly closer proximity is optimal."

"Optimal, hmm?" you teased, lifting your head to see his face in the moonlight filtering through the curtains.

"Essential," he corrected softly, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. "You are essential to me, Y/N. Not because the Ministry decided it, but because I choose it. Because I choose you, every day."

The simple declaration, spoken without qualification or analysis, made your heart swell. "I choose you too," you whispered, leaning down to press your lips to his.

As the kiss deepened, as his hands began their now-familiar exploration of your body, as the world narrowed to just the two of you in the darkness, you marveled at how something that began as a Ministry imposition had transformed into the most real, most chosen thing in your life.

Perhaps, you thought fleetingly as Sunghoon rolled you beneath him, sometimes the most reluctant beginnings led to the most passionate endings.

And this was only the beginning.

Epilogue

Six months later

"Nyx, cease and desist immediately," Sunghoon's voice drifted from the study, prompting you to pause in the hallway. "That document is for the Hungarian Minister, not feline consumption."

A plaintive meow followed.

"Your objection is noted but overruled," he continued, his tone serious but warm. "The diplomatic corps does not recognize 'but it looks chewable' as valid grounds for document destruction."

You smiled, leaning against the doorframe to observe the familiar scene—Sunghoon at his desk, hair slightly mussed from running his hands through it, Nyx perched regally atop a stack of parchments she had claimed as her sovereign territory.

"Judicial negotiations have concluded," Sunghoon informed the cat, gently lifting her from the documents. "The court finds in favor of the Ministry of Magic."

Nyx meowed indignantly as she was relocated to Sunghoon's lap, though her protests subsided when his hand automatically began stroking her fur.

"You know you're just encouraging her territorial ambitions," you observed, making your presence known.

Sunghoon looked up, his expression immediately softening in the way that still made your heart skip. "She employs highly persuasive methods of negotiation," he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in what you now recognized as his version of a smile.

"You're wrapped around her paw," you teased, entering the study.

"A diplomat knows when strategic concessions are necessary for peace," he countered, though he didn't deny the observation.

Six months after your reconciliation at the Ministry retreat, these everyday moments still caught you by surprise—the easy warmth between you, the casual affection, the way Sunghoon's formal facade had softened into something more genuine without losing the essential qualities that made him who he was.

"The Hungarian proposal is finished?" you asked, moving to perch on the edge of his desk.

"Nearly," he confirmed, his free hand automatically reaching for yours, an unconscious gesture that spoke volumes about how far you'd come. "Their approach to international magical education standards is refreshingly progressive."

You listened as he explained the complexities of the proposal, his eyes lighting with the quiet passion he brought to his work. This was the real Sunghoon—brilliant, thoughtful, deeply committed to improving magical cooperation across borders. The fact that he now shared this side of himself with you, without filters or calculation, felt like a gift you unwrapped daily.

"I've been thinking," you said when he finished, your fingers absently playing with his.

"A dangerous pastime," he replied, eyebrow raised in mock concern.

You laughed, still delighted by these glimpses of his dry humor. "The Pediatric Magical Development Center at St. Mungo's is expanding," you continued. "They've asked me to head the new research division for childhood magical stabilization."

Sunghoon's eyes warmed with genuine pride. "That's a well-deserved recognition of your work with unstable magical cores. Your treatment protocol has already improved outcomes significantly."

"It would mean more regular hours," you added, watching his face carefully. "Less emergency shifts."

"That would be...very preferable," he said, his thumb tracing circles on your palm. "Though I've grown used to your erratic schedule."

"And there's something else," you continued, heart quickening slightly. "The position includes specialized training in prenatal magical development."

Something flickered in Sunghoon's eyes—a sudden attention, a quiet intensity. "Prenatal development," he repeated, his voice carefully neutral.

"Yes," you confirmed, watching him closely. "They're particularly interested in research on how parents' magical signatures influence fetal magical development."

Sunghoon was silent for a moment, his fingers still moving against yours with unconscious intimacy. "That's a fascinating area of study," he said finally. "With significant practical applications."

"It made me think," you said, gathering your courage. "About us. About the future."

Nyx chose this moment to stretch dramatically in Sunghoon's lap, her paws extending toward the ceiling before she resettled, purring loudly.

"Our daughter approves of serious conversations," Sunghoon observed, his attempt at lightness not quite masking the sudden tension in his shoulders.

"I've been thinking about expanding our family," you said directly, deciding that after everything you'd been through, honesty was always the best approach with Sunghoon. "About having children. Actual human ones, in addition to our feline overlord."

Sunghoon went very still, his expression unreadable in a way you hadn't seen for months. For a moment, you feared you'd misjudged, pushed too far too soon.

"Children," he repeated, the word careful, measured.

"It's just a thought," you backtracked quickly. "Something to consider for the future. There's no rush—"

"Yes," Sunghoon interrupted, his voice unexpectedly firm.

You blinked, caught off guard by the certainty in his tone. "Yes?"

"Yes, I would like to have children with you," he clarified, his eyes holding yours with unwavering conviction. "I've given the matter considerable thought."

Relief flooded through you, followed quickly by curiosity. "You've been thinking about this?"

A hint of color rose in his cheeks. "It would be irresponsible not to consider all aspects of our future together."

"Of course," you agreed, fighting a smile at his characteristically methodical approach to family planning. "And what did your considerations conclude?"

"That I would like five or six," he said matter-of-factly.

You nearly choked. "Five or six what?"

"Children," he replied calmly, as if he'd merely suggested getting a few extra teacups.

"FIVE OR SIX CHILDREN?" Your voice rose to a pitch that startled Nyx from her comfortable position.

Sunghoon blinked, apparently surprised by your reaction. "Is that an unreasonable number?"

"Unreason—Sunghoon! That's half a Quidditch team!" you spluttered, torn between laughter and genuine shock. "Where did you even get that number?"

He looked slightly embarrassed now, adjusting his collar in the way he did when feeling defensive. "I may have prepared a preliminary analysis of optimal family size."

"An analysis," you repeated faintly. "Of course you did."

"It's merely a starting point for negotiation," he added, his tone suggesting he was prepared to be flexible on the exact figure.

"A starting point," you echoed, now fighting genuine laughter. "So generous of you."

"My research indicates that larger families provide numerous benefits, including built-in social structures, diverse personality dynamics, and practical experience with diplomatic conflict resolution," he continued, warming to his subject. "Additionally, having grown up as an only boy,with just a younger sister, I found the experience somewhat... limiting."

You stared at him, this perfectly proper diplomat calmly explaining why he wanted enough children to populate a small classroom, and suddenly you couldn't contain your laughter any longer.

"What?" he asked, looking genuinely puzzled by your reaction.

"Sunghoon," you managed through your laughter, "most people start with one child and see how it goes!"

"Inefficient," he replied with perfect seriousness. "Proper planning prevents—"

"If you say 'poor performance,' I swear I'll hex you," you threatened, still laughing.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "I was going to say 'prevents problematic outcomes,' but your version has a certain alliterative appeal."

You slid from the desk into his lap, displacing an indignant Nyx who shot you a betrayed look before stalking from the room. "Let's compromise," you suggested, looping your arms around his neck. "How about we start with one and reassess after I've recovered from growing and birthing an actual human being?"

Sunghoon's arms came around you automatically, his expression softening into something tender. "Your counter-proposal has merit," he conceded. "Though I reserve the right to revisit the total number at a later date."

"Always the diplomat," you murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Not always," he corrected softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Not with you. Not anymore."

The simple statement, spoken without calculation or reserve, still had the power to make your heart flip in your chest. "I love you," you told him, because you could now, because the words came easily and often between you. "Even when you try to negotiate for a small army of children."

"I love you too," he replied without hesitation, his thumb tracing the line of your cheek. "Although I believe six hardly constitutes an army. Perhaps a specialized task force."

You laughed again, resting your forehead against his. "One at a time, Sunghoon. I promise we'll revisit your task force proposal after the first mission."

"Acceptable terms," he agreed, his lips finding yours with the easy familiarity that still felt like a miracle. "Though I should note that twins run in my family."

You pulled back slightly, narrowing your eyes at him. "You're not serious."

The smile that spread across his face—full, genuine, no longer rare but still precious—was your answer. "Perhaps we should begin with adjusting Nyx to the concept of a sibling," he suggested, his eyes dancing with humor. "She does like to be consulted on household changes."

"A trial run with a stuffed toy might be wise," you agreed, settling more comfortably against him. "Diplomatic relations with our daughter must be maintained."

As Sunghoon's arms tightened around you, as his laughter—no longer a rare occurrence—rumbled through his chest, you marveled at how far you'd come from those first stilted days of Ministry-mandated marriage. From measured proximity to genuine connection, from calculated familiarity to real intimacy, from reluctant cohabitation to a future planned together—with however many children eventually joined your family.

Later that evening, as you watched Sunghoon solemnly explaining to Nyx that future changes to the household structure would not affect her status as "firstborn daughter," you silently thanked the Ministry's ridiculous marriage law and the bureaucratic algorithm that had matched you with this man—this complex, brilliant, unexpectedly tender man who had learned to let himself love despite his fears.

Sometimes the most reluctant hearts, once opened, proved capable of the greatest love of all.

"Absolutely not," you said firmly, arms crossed over your chest. "Four is our absolute limit."

Sunghoon looked up from where he sat on the nursery floor, three-year-old twins climbing over him like a jungle gym while their six-month-old sister batted at a magical mobile nearby.

"But I've prepared new charts," he protested mildly, somehow maintaining his dignity despite the toddler attempting to use his shoulder as a launching pad. "The efficiency metrics for five children are significantly superior to four."

"The efficiency metrics for my sanity are currently hovering around critical," you informed him, though you couldn't suppress your smile at the sight of your proper, dignified husband covered in sticky fingerprints and sporting a lopsided sparkly clip in his perfectly arranged hair.

"You said that after the twins," he reminded you, catching your youngest daughter as she began to roll toward the edge of her play mat. "And yet here we are, already discussing the next addition."

"We are not discussing anything," you insisted, even as you bent to kiss the top of his head. "I'm stating a fact. Four children, Sunghoon. That's halfway to your original negotiation position, which I think shows remarkable generosity on my part."

"Mummy, Daddy promised me a brother next," your eldest daughter announced, bouncing on Sunghoon's lap with cheerful disregard for his comfort. "He pinky swore."

You raised an eyebrow at your husband, who had the grace to look slightly abashed. "Diplomatic negotiations with four-year-olds require certain tactical concessions," he explained.

"Tactical concessions," you repeated, fighting laughter. "I see."

Nyx, now elderly but still regal, observed the chaos from her perch atop the bookshelf—the only surface in the house not covered in toys, art supplies, or sticky residue of unknown origin. Her expression suggested both judgment and a certain smug satisfaction at having retained her throne despite the invasion of tiny humans.

"Our firstborn daughter remains skeptical of expansion plans," Sunghoon observed, following your gaze to the cat.

"Our firstborn daughter is the only one showing proper judgment," you replied, finally allowing your smile to break through. "Unlike her father, who apparently thinks we're establishing a new branch of the Ministry."

Sunghoon carefully disentangled himself from the twins, rising to pull you into his arms despite the children immediately wrapping themselves around his legs. "Not the Ministry," he corrected softly, his eyes warm with the love that still made your heart skip after all these years. "Just our own little diplomatic corps. With you as permanent ambassador to my heart."

"That," you informed him, rising on tiptoe to kiss him, "was terrible."

"But effective," he murmured against your lips as your arms tightened around him.

"Four, Sunghoon," you insisted when you broke apart, though you both knew your resolve was weakening. "Final offer."

His smile—still your favorite sight in the world—told you that negotiations were far from concluded. But as your children's laughter filled the room, as Nyx watched over her human siblings with reluctant affection, as Sunghoon held you close in the center of the beautiful chaos you'd created together, you couldn't find it in your heart to mind.

After all, the best diplomatic agreements left room for future amendments.

fin.

TL: @ziiao @seonhoon @beariegyu @somuchdard @ddolleri @zzhengyu @annybah @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex @sol3chu @simj4k3 @jakewonist @azzy02 @addictedtohobi @cherrybeomm @urmomdotcom5678 @jaeyunsbimbo @yongbokified @changbinniescurlyhair

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tobiosbbyghorl · 3 days ago

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Let your body loose~ | psh 🔞

word count: 4.95k

pairing:situationship!Sunghoon x reader

synopsis: At a wild college party, months of tension in your messy situationship with Park Sunghoon finally explode into a heated hookup. What started as casual teasing and blurred lines turns into something neither of you can ignore—forcing you both to question if it was just lust or something deeper.

The party was loud. Too loud. The kind of loud that made your chest vibrate and your ears ring, the bass of the music drowning out even your thoughts. Bodies swayed to the rhythm of the beat, red solo cups spilled drinks on the floor, and laughter echoed off the walls of the packed house. But none of it mattered.

Not when he was in the room.

Not when Park Sunghoon was watching you again.

You felt his gaze before you saw him—hot, heavy, laced with something between a dare and a promise. When your eyes finally met his from across the room, it was like a switch flipped inside you.

“It’s just me and you,” the lyrics echoed through the speakers, almost too perfectly timed.

Your heart picked up its pace.

I can feel my heart racing

It’s so hard to keep cool…

He wasn’t even trying to hide it tonight—the way his eyes dragged down your body, lingering on the hem of your skirt, the way your ponytail sat high and neat. You caught the subtle raise of his brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It sent a wave of heat down your spine.

Am I being too patient?

Too hot, got me sweatin’ on the floor

I just can’t take it anymore…

This wasn’t new. You and Sunghoon had been dancing around something for months now—flirty looks in class, “accidental” touches at frat parties, and a drunken kiss that had spiraled into a night you both pretended never happened… until it started happening again. And again.

You called it nothing. He never gave it a name. But tonight?

Tonight, you didn’t want to pretend anymore.

You pushed through the crowd, trying to find some air, but Sunghoon was already there. He blocked your path with that lazy confidence only he could pull off—arms crossed, smile cocky, eyes dark with something intense

“I’ve been waiting to get next to you,” he said lowly, voice nearly drowned by the music, “and I can tell how bad you want it too.”

You didn’t deny it. Couldn’t.

You were so close now—just inches apart. The tension between you was magnetic, intoxicating, burning like a fuse that had been lit way too long.

And we’re so close I can taste it

I see it in your eyes

If there’s a chance I’ma take it

I’m begging you, just please give me a sign

Waiting way too long, I think it’s time…

You didn’t need to give him a sign. You were the sign. The look in your eyes said everything.

So when his hand slid down to your waist and pulled you into the dark hallway, you let him.

When your back hit the wall and his mouth hovered just over yours, you didn’t hesitate.

You kissed him first.

It was heat and need and months of holding back exploding all at once. His hands found your hips, your hair, your jaw—touches urgent, desperate, like he’d been dying to do this again. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, dragging him impossibly closer.

All this magic’s burning like a fire inside

And it is way too hot, girl, we should let it loose…

“Been thinking about this all night,” he muttered against your lips, voice rough.

Your ponytail had come undone somewhere between the hallway and him pinning you gently against the closed door. He ran his fingers through your hair, pulling it loose, just like he always said he liked it.

“Ponytail sittin’ just right…” he quoted the song with a grin. “But down looks even better on you.”

You rolled your eyes, breathless, laughing against his lips as you kissed him again. “Shut up and kiss me.”

And he did.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there—making out like the house wasn’t filled with people who could walk by, like you hadn’t promised yourself you’d be cool tonight. But Sunghoon never played fair.

Especially when it came to you.

His lips ghosted down your neck, and your head tilted back with a quiet moan.

“All this tension, baby, let your body loose…”

It wasn’t just about lust. Not anymore. It was the build-up, the months of wondering if he felt it too. And now, here you were—finally letting it out, finally letting it loose.

When he pulled back, just slightly, foreheads touching and breath uneven, he looked at you like you were the only one in the world.

“Don’t wanna waste another second tonight,” he whispered, echoing the song in the background, his lips brushing yours as he counted low—

“5, 4, 3, 2…”

You crashed into him again before he could say “1.”

Your kiss grew deeper, your hands more demanding. The party's din faded into the background, leaving only the rhythm of your hearts pounding together. You felt his hands sneak under your shirt, caressing the bare skin of your waist, and a thrill shot through you.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, and he took that as an invitation to kiss along your jawline, his breath warm against your neck."We can't do this here," you managed to say, even though your body begged to stay right where it was.

Sunghoon chuckled, his breath tickling your skin. “I know a better place.” He took your hand and led you through the party, the music thumping in your chest like a second heartbeat. The touch of his skin on yours sent electric jolts through your body, making you feel alive in a way you hadn't in months.

You followed him up the stairs, passing drunken partygoers who barely registered your presence. The anticipation grew with each step until you reached the top floor and he pushed open a door to a quieter, more private part of the house.

The room was dimly lit with the glow of a lava lamp, the bed unmade, and the air thick with the scent of cologne. You didn't need to ask whose room it was. He pulled you in, closing the door with a firm click, and the outside world was effectively shut out. The music was a muffled throb now, a distant echo of the passion pounding through your veins.

He turned to face you, and his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt. You didn't find any in yourself. You stepped closer, reaching up to trace his jawline with your fingertips, feeling the stubble that always seemed to be just right. He leaned into your touch, eyes half-lidded, and it was like you were speaking a language that didn't require words.

With a gentle tug, you led him to the bed, and he followed without protest. The room was a haze of shadows and soft light, the perfect setting for what was about to unfold.

Your hands moved with newfound urgency, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the strong lines of his abs, the planes of his chest. He returned the favor, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin of your stomach as he lifted your shirt over your head. His eyes devoured you, and you felt a rush of desire, mixed with the thrill of being so openly desired.

Sunghoon’s lips found yours again, his kisses leaving a trail of fire down your neck. His hands cupped your breasts over your bra, his thumbs circling your hardened nipples through the lace. You arched into his touch, a whimper escaping your lips.

He pulled back just enough to murmur, “Do you want me to keep going?”

You nodded, breathless, your voice a whisper, “Yes, Sunghoon, please.”

His smile grew wicked as he reached behind you, unclipping your bra with a swift motion. It fell to the floor, forgotten, as his palms grazed your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your breasts were now exposed to him, and his gaze dropped to them with unabashed hunger. Sunghoon's warm, wet mouth closed around one of your nipples, sucking on it gently at first before increasing the pressure. You gasped, your fingers curling into his hair, holding him closer as your knees buckled slightly.

The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that had you arching into him, desperate for more.As he continued to worship your breasts, you couldn’t help but grind against his erection, which was straining against his jeans. The friction between your bodies sent sparks flying through your core.

He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, and you could see the need in them, mirroring your own. "I need you," he said, his voice low and gruff with desire. And just like that, all your doubts dissipated like mist in the sun. You needed him too.

With eager hands, you both worked to rid yourselves of the remaining barriers. Buttons popped open, zippers zipped down, and fabric was tossed aside in a frenzy of passion. The sound of your clothes hitting the floor seemed to echo in the quiet room, a stark contrast to the party's chaos outside. Each piece of discarded clothing brought you closer to the moment you've been craving.

Sunghoon laid you down on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. The mattress sank slightly under your weight, enveloping you in a soft embrace that only heightened the anticipation. He kissed down your chest, his tongue teasing your collarbone before moving to your stomach. His hands found the waistband of your jeans, and with a swift motion, he unbuttoned them, sliding them down your legs. You watched as he took in the sight of you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Let your body loose," he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing.

"Trust me." He gently spread your legs apart and began to kiss along your inner thighs, his mouth moving closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. His hands caressed your skin, sending waves of pleasure that made you quiver with anticipation.

When his tongue finally touched you, it was a slow, deliberate lick that made you gasp. He licked slowly, savoring the taste of you, exploring every fold and crevice with a patience that was both maddening and incredibly erotic. His touch was light, feathery, as if he were trying to memorize the map of your body with the softness of his tongue.

You couldn't help but squirm beneath him, moaning his name as he teased you closer and closer to the edge. The pressure built up inside you like a dam about to burst, and you felt your muscles tighten around his mouth. He chuckled darkly, the vibration of his laughter sending shockwaves through your core. His fingers found their way into your wetness, moving in sync with his tongue, building the intensity of your pleasure.

The sensation of his mouth on you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. Each stroke of his tongue was a promise, each touch of his fingers a declaration of his desire. Your hips rocked against his face, seeking more, needing more. He gave it to you willingly, his movements growing more urgent as he felt you getting closer. Your moans grew louder, and you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming out his name for the whole house to hear.

Sunghoon's dirty whispers filled the air, his voice a seductive rumble that made your toes curl. "You're so wet for me," he said, his breath hot against your skin. "I can taste how much you want this." He licked you faster, his tongue flicking against your clit in a relentless rhythm that had you seeing stars. The room spun around you, the only thing grounding you was the feel of his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he devoured you.

As your climax subsided, your body went limp, a boneless heap of satisfaction on the bed. Sunghoon kissed his way back up your body, leaving a trail of sweet, gentle kisses in his wake. He hovered above you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. But all you felt was the afterglow of your orgasm, a warmth that suffused your entire being.

With a smug smile, he whispered, "Now, it's your turn to make me feel good." He sat back on his haunches and unzipped his pants, pulling out his erection. It stood proud and thick, a testament to his desire for you. The sight of him like this, so raw and exposed, made you ache to taste him, to bring him the same pleasure he'd just given you.

You leaned forward, your eyes locked on his, and placed a gentle kiss on the tip of his cock. He groaned, his hands tightening on the bed sheets as you took him into your mouth. He was long and pale, the girth of him stretching your lips wide. You began to crawl down the length of him, your tongue dancing over his shaft, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum. Your cheeks hollowed out as you took more of him in, your moans vibrating along his length.

The room was filled with the sound of your wet, eager mouth on him, the smell of desire thick in the air. You felt a rush of power as you watched his chest heave with each breath, his hips rising slightly to meet your ministrations. Your hands wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking in time with your mouth, creating a symphony of pleasure that had him panting your name.

You took him deeper, feeling the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, the sensation of him filling you completely. His hands found their way into your hair, guiding you, encouraging you to go further, to push past the boundaries of what you've ever done before. And you did, eager to give him what he needed, eager to feel him come apart under your touch.

Sunghoon’s dirty talk grew more intense, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your very bones. "That's it, baby, suck me like that," he groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back in ecstasy.

"You're so good, so fucking perfect." His words were like a drug, making your body come alive with a need that was insatiable. You swirled your tongue around his tip, tasting the pre-cum that beaded there, feeling his thighs tense beneath your hands.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice strained. You obeyed, raising your gaze to meet his eyes, watching as his pupils dilated with pleasure.

"Keep looking at me while you make me come." You took him deeper, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and his fingers tightened in your hair. He whispered filthy words that sent a shiver down your spine, his praise mixing with the lewd sounds of your mouth working him.

His hips began to buck, and you knew he was close. You doubled your efforts, your hand pumping him in time with your mouth, feeling the pulse of his impending climax. The room was a blur of heat and need, and you were lost in the sensation of giving him everything he wanted.

As he grew closer to the edge, you reached down and cupped his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. Sunghoon's eyes shot open, his breath hissing out between clenched teeth. "Fuck," he murmured, his voice tight with restraint.

You took him even deeper, your throat adjusting to the intrusion, and began to massage his balls in earnest. The skin was soft and warm, tightening in your grip as he grew closer to climax. Each time you squeezed, you felt his cock pulse in your mouth, his hips jerking in response.

With a strangled groan, Sunghoon's eyes snapped open and met yours, the intensity of his gaze almost overwhelming. You felt the muscles in your own thighs tighten in anticipation as he reached down to grip your shoulders. His breathing grew ragged, and the muscles in his stomach tensed as he held back, trying to prolong the exquisite agony of the moment.

Then, with a final, desperate thrust of his hips, he came. The warmth of his release filled your mouth, and you swallowed reflexively, feeling a thrill of power at the thought of him coming inside you, marking you as his. You continued to suck him gently as he spasmed, his release pulsing against your tongue. His fingers tightened in your hair, and he moaned your name, his eyes squeezed shut as he rode out the waves of pleasure that crashed through him.

When he finally went still, you pulled back, licking your lips clean of the last drops of his cum. You looked up at him, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. Sunghoon's chest was heaving, his skin slick with a fine sheen of sweat. He looked down at you with a mix of awe and lust, his eyes glazed with pleasure. He reached down, caressing your cheek gently before pulling you up to kiss you deeply. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and the intimacy of it had you melting into him, your body humming with desire once again.

"Need you inside me, baby," you murmured against his lips, the words coming out in a needy whine.

He groaned in response, his cock twitching with renewed interest. You reached down and stroked him, feeling him harden in your hand. He kissed you again, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he couldn't get enough of you.

With a gentle push, Sunghoon laid you down on the bed, the softness of the mattress a stark contrast to the urgent need pulsing through your body. He positioned himself behind you, his hands on your hips, guiding you onto your knees. You felt the heat of his body at your back as he whispered, "Spread your legs wider." You obeyed, the anticipation making your stomach flutter. He kissed along your spine, his breath hot and uneven.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

His mouth trailed down, pressing kisses to the small of your back, until he reached the curve of your buttocks. He nibbled and licked, making you squirm with delight. And then, without warning, his tongue slid into your folds, making you gasp. He kissed your pussy with the same passion he had kissed your mouth earlier, his tongue exploring, tasting. The sensation was so intense, so intimate, that you felt your walls clench around his fingers, which were still teasing you from within. His mouth moved in sync with his hand, his tongue swirling around your clit while he pumped into you, driving you closer to the edge once more.

Sunghoon whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his breath hot against your shoulder as he held you in place. "You're mine," he murmured, "all of you, baby." His words sent shivers down your spine as his tongue flicked against your sensitive flesh, the pleasure building within you like a storm about to break. He knew exactly what you needed, his touch as familiar as your own breath.

With one powerful thrust, he entered you from behind, filling you completely. You gasped, the suddenness of the sensation making your eyes roll back in your head. He didn't give you time to adjust, immediately setting a punishing pace, his hips slamming into you with an urgency that left no room for thought. Each thrust was a declaration of his hunger for you, a demand for your submission that you were all too eager to give.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with the moans that spilled from both of your mouths. Each time he pushed into you, you felt your body stretch around him, the feeling of fullness overwhelming and delicious. Your moans grew louder, matching his own, the symphony of your pleasure echoing in the quiet room. The bed creaked under your combined weight, a testament to the intensity of your lovemaking.

Sunghoon's hand reached around, finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. Your moans grew louder, your body tightening around him as the pressure built once again. His other hand was on your hip, holding you steady as he pounded into you, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass adding to the erotic crescendo. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he whispered filthy words of praise and encouragement.

"You're so tight, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Your pussy is squeezing me like a glove." His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, making your walls clench even tighter around him. "You're going to make me come so hard," he murmured, his teeth grazing your earlobe. The raw, carnality of his words had you panting, desperate for more.

"Miss this cock so much, Hoonie," you managed to gasp out, the words coming out more as a moan than actual speech. Sunghoon stilled for a moment, his eyes widening slightly before a feral grin spread across his face. "You do, don't you?" He chuckled, his voice filled with a dark satisfaction.

He slammed back into you, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that had you crying out. "Yes! Yes! Fuck me, Sunghoon," you screamed, your voice echoing in the small space. His name was a mantra on your lips, a plea for more, for harder, for everything he had to give. You felt your second orgasm approaching like a freight train, barreling towards you with unstoppable force.

The room was a blur of motion and sensation, the only thing in focus was the feeling of him inside you, the way he filled you up and stretched you to your limits. Your body responded to his touch like it had been starved, each caress and thrust bringing you closer to the brink. His hand found yours, our fingers intertwining as he fucked you, as if trying to anchor you to the earth as you soared higher and higher.

With a grunt of pure need, Sunghoon flipped you over onto your back, his grip on your wrists tightening as he pinned your hands above your head. He hovered over you, his eyes blazing with desire, and pushed your legs up to your chest. The sudden change in angle sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making your toes curl and your back arch off the bed. His cock pressed against your throbbing entrance, and with one swift thrust, he was back inside, filling you completely. The sensation was almost too much to handle, a mix of pain and pleasure that made you see white stars.

“Feel that baby?” he growled, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to move again. His hips rocked into you, a punishing rhythm that had you crying out with each stroke. The way he filled you up, so completely, so perfectly, was a declaration of his possession. His eyes searched yours, looking for the same wild need that he knew was mirrored in his own. “That’s me, all of me, inside you. Only me.”

You felt your walls tighten around him, the sensation of him stretching and claiming you with every thrust. It was like nothing else existed but the two of you, lost in this dance of desire. You nodded, unable to form words, your body speaking for you as it arched and trembled beneath his. Each time he pulled out, you could feel the emptiness before he plunged back in, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that had you writhing against him.

"Hoonie," you gasped out, your voice strained. "I'm...I'm so close." His eyes lit up, a feral glint that sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned down, his mouth claiming yours in a bruising kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. His hips never ceased their relentless rhythm, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you that had your toes curling and your nails digging into his skin.

"Me too, baby," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and ragged. "Me too." He shifted his angle slightly, the tip of him brushing against your g-spot with each thrust, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your mouth forming a silent scream as the tension inside you grew tauter and tauter.

"Hoonie, I'm close," you panted, the words barely escaping your throat as you felt your orgasm build. His eyes darkened, his pupils dilating with desire as he watched you unravel beneath him. "Fuck me harder, please," you begged, your voice a desperate whine. He complied, his movements becoming more forceful, each stroke hitting deeper, harder, more insistent.

You could see the effort in his face as he held himself back, his jaw clenched and his eyes squeezed shut, his teeth gritted with the effort of not letting go just yet. His body was a study in tension, his muscles flexing with each powerful thrust. The sound of your skin slapping against his filled the air, punctuated by your cries and gasps of pleasure.

Your eyes met, and in that moment, you knew you were both teetering on the edge. The room around you seemed to shrink, the world outside the door forgotten. All that mattered was the heat of his body, the feel of him inside you, the sound of your mingled moans. His thumb found your clit again, and he began to rub it in firm, swift circles that had your body tightening like a bowstring. You felt the coil of pleasure deep in your core, winding tighter and tighter with every pass of his thumb.

Sunghoon's eyes never left yours as he watched the ecstasy build on your face. "Come for me," he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "I want to feel you come all over me." His words sent a bolt of desire through you, and you felt yourself let go, the dam breaking as your orgasm washed over you. You squirted while moaning loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet room as your body bucked and writhed beneath his. He groaned, the vibration of his voice against your skin sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you.

His thumb continued to work your clit, the sensation overwhelming as your pussy clenched around his cock. He watched as your juices coated him, the sight making him growl with lust. "Fuck, you're so wet for me," he murmured, his voice strained as he fought to maintain his own control. But it was a battle he was quickly losing, his own need to climax becoming too intense to ignore.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, the head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot. You screamed out his name as you felt yourself come again, your body shaking with the force of your release. He followed you over the edge, his own climax tearing through him like a tempest. He groaned, his cock pulsing deep within you as he filled you with his warm seed. The feeling of him coming inside you was indescribable, a deep, primal connection that had you clinging to him as if he was your lifeline.

As the storm of pleasure began to subside, your bodies slowly calmed down, your breathing evening out into gentle pants. Sunghoon’s weight on top of you was a comforting presence, a reminder of the intimate bond you’d just shared. He kissed you tenderly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. But all he saw was the same all-consuming passion that had brought you to this moment.

With a soft whisper, you spoke the words that had been hovering just beneath the surface of your consciousness. “I love you, Sunghoon,” you breathed into the quiet space between your intertwined bodies. The words hung in the air, a declaration of feelings that had been growing stronger with each stolen glance, each secret touch. His eyes widened, a smile spreading across his face as he pulled back slightly to look at you.

Sunghoon’s expression was one of shock and wonder, his gaze searching yours as if looking for some sign that you were joking or teasing. But your eyes were earnest, filled with a love that had grown from the fiery passion of your bodies colliding. “You do?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. You nodded, your cheeks flushing as you felt your heart swell with the weight of your confession.

He leaned down to kiss you softly, his hand cradling the side of your face. The love in his eyes was a mirror of what you felt, and as your lips met, it was as if you were saying those three words all over again. The kiss grew deeper, a silent promise of forever wrapped in the tender embrace of your mouths. His cock, still hard and pulsing inside you, was a testament to his own love and need for you.

"I love you too," Sunghoon finally said, his voice barely more than a whisper. The words seemed to resonate through the air, echoing in the quiet room like a sacred vow. His eyes searched yours, and you could see the truth of his love shining there, raw and unfiltered. He kissed you again, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips before delving in to tangle with yours. His love was like a warm embrace that seeped into your very soul, filling every corner of your being.

And in that moment, in that crowded house, under dim lights and loud music, it was just you and him—

Locking eyes, losing control, and letting it loose.

permanent taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @hoonielvv @rissierjrie

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enjakey · 3 days ago

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Where Have You Been

Pairing: [figure skater!Sunghoon x archaeologist!Fem!Reader]

Hello! This fic (20k) was posted in my old account that I have since deleted a long time ago. This is a new account so I’m reporting this here. I thought I’d never bring any of my old shit back but I love this series too much. If you’re wondering why this sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve read it a long time ago. Not because it’s plagiarized. None of my work is plagiarized, please understand that. My writing style is carefully curated from the many Japanese and Russian writers I engage with. This plot came to me after a horrible loss in my life- three years ago.

Please enjoy reading it. There’s a Jake version, too.

Summary: to the outside world, Sunghoon had it all- looks, friends, a successful career and a New York life. But he was lonely, brinking on the hope of never finding true love again. He’d come to the age of even giving up, watching some of his closest friends getting married and starting families. That is, until he met a curiously cautious archaeologist.

THERE WASN’T A MOMENT where he felt the prospects and depths of loneliness until Sunghoon realised how everyone around him was settling down and he was still calling the ice rink the love of his life.

His childhood wasn’t particularly rocky, excluding the handful of break-ups he went through. He always had people around him everywhere he looked; standing over his head were his loving and supportive parents that invariably extended a hand when he needed to be picked up in any crisis; his sister looked over his shoulder like a hawk, keeping him from harm’s way and taking on the duty of an older sibling instead of staying the naive little girl like she was supposed to; he had a few friends in school who he used to pass free time or confide in once in a blue moon; then, there were the friends he made in summer camp who practically become his extended siblings through a year’s course of writing letters to each other and sending postcards through the mail.

They were a group of seven in total. Heeseung was an academic and music prodigy, excelling in any professional field he dipped his foot in to test the waters. Jay was a product of nepotism, aspiring to take over his father’s travel company after graduating with a business degree. Jake started as an engineering geek but eventually shifted his foundation toward the world of modelling, fashion and fame and eventually starred as one of the most wanted models for many designers and brands. Sunoo dreamt of starting a skincare brand of his own and studied chemistry and cosmetics in college- he was known amongst them for dying his hair in wild and bold colours. Jungwon, though he was in high school, was the most mature and responsible out of all of them, a taekwondo successor who had the most intricately detailed schedules to follow. Lastly came Riki, the youngest of all of them, who was the dance prodigy often compared to Micheal Jackson or Fred Astaire.

Sunghoon was an ice skater, his life and career revolving around gliding on frozen water and getting coached by previous skating Gods so that someday, he would reach their level. His mother always said he was fond of the sport because he was born in the winter season. On a cold night, while a hail storm plagued his small town, his parents drove to the hospital regardless of the risk of hypothermia and he was born. His cries overshadowed the whistles and whispers of the storm and the snow outside morphed to look like sakura petals slowly transcending off the trees to rot on the ground. He was used to the cold since the day he was born and would continue to master the skill of figure skating, treating the ice rink like a second home. Hence, he was dubbed The Ice Prince by those he called friends and family.

Moving to New York for the sake of starting fresh with his summer camp friends was a thought wilder than the dreams he had of living in a mansion and lounging in hot tubs as a hobby. But he wouldn’t be training in The Concrete Jungle if it weren’t for Heeseung and his elaborate plan of bringing all seven of them so he could focus on New York University and the rest of them could have a better shot at building futures and making careers. This meant leaving behind his parents and his sister but he told them that it would be for a few years and he would eventually come back due to homesickness. He told his friends in high school that he would keep in touch with them but it was an empty promise. Once he settled into his apartment with Jay and Jake, he was burrowing himself into a new home, a new lifestyle.

When he turned twenty-two, Sunghoon had no plans of moving back to Korea like he had told his family. Homesickness washed away with the worries of juggling between college and figure skating. Learning a new language and suppressing his urges of using Korean slang was also something that took up his consciousness while he went about his days. He was more prone to stumble on his sentences while speaking to a girl he liked or would mix up the definitions of words that sounded similar while speaking to his professors or skating coach. He paid for tutors to teach him the ins and outs of the language and eventually, he got the hang of it.

In high school, Sunghoon shuffled through four failed relationships, all ending with burnt bridges, fire setting ablaze the wood of what was left of love and desire. His first relationship was with the eccentric girl in class. She was always cracking jokes and making people laugh, only to come home to loneliness and an empty phone where no one bothered to reach out to her. He wouldn’t say he regretted dating her but it was a struggle trying to get her to confide in him. His second relationship was in sophomore year, wooing the new girl in class with charm, humour and wit but her feelings towards him came as soon as they had left and Sunghoon was left with unfulfilled promises and hopes from her. She taught him a lesson- to never rush into a relationship with someone he barely knew so his third relationship was with a close friend of his whom he had known for around three years. But their rendezvous soared downwards like a plane crash and left both of them with one less friend. His fourth relationship ended because of his abrupt plans of moving to New York. It was very brief, lasting around one or two months before they agreed on a mutual separation instead of opting for long-distance because those never worked. He didn't speak to any of them again and would be embarrassed even to contact them.

His love life was in the same state of shambles in New York. He went on a myriad of dates and blew racks of money for girls that inevitably left him because they weren’t good for each other or his affection just wasn’t enough. His relationship with girls he believed was his soul mate or future wife, too, left him high and dry with tears streaming down his face every time he was broken up with. He couldn’t understand what he was lacking and he didn’t understand why no matter the sacrifices he made or how many times he settled, he was always fucked over, lied to, or even cheated on. His trust issues surfaced after a redhead, his girlfriend of six months at the time, kissed a random tattooed biker in a club, right in front of him.

Growing up in a small town, Sunghoon was never taught the sophistication of emotions. There were only happy, sad, or angry and emotions surpassing that radar were almost taboo to discuss. His parents, though not the orthodoxy type and were well educated, didn’t seem to speak about emotions such as heartbreak or jealousy, nor did they talk about traumas that lead to trust issues, insecurities or social isolation. The public school he attended didn’t have the budget to hire a counsellor, hence most of his classmates were also unaware that they were contributing to the world of teenage angst and dilemma. They just went along with it, some victimising or being the victim themselves of bullying and other forms of distractions towards the world of young psychology and hormones. Sunghoon knew that guys would beat up another guy if they found them flirting with their girl, but he assumed the action stemmed from jealousy rather than the feeling of emasculation and embarrassment. He watched students bully the weak and short ones and assumed it was because they thought they were weird-looking and not because they were threatened by their aptitude and adroitness. He only started becoming aware of the association between actions and emotions when he began to accept the fact that he was feeling heartbreak, rather than simply labelling the ache in his chest as sadness.

Out of the seven of them, Jake was the first to get married, which came as a shock to everyone as he was barely twenty-three. He got down on one knee and slipped a ring on Chiara’s finger in the middle of the café where they had their first date. In Sunghoon’s eyes, Jake and Chiara’s relationship was what he would consider ideal. They would fight, but always came up with a solution; they disrespected each other but quickly changed the habit to make sure acts like such would never repeat; they spent months learning about each other and being patient with one another to the point where they could not only finish each other’s sentences but could decipher what one was feeling about or during a particular situation with simply a raised brow. By the time they were married, they were like a couple out of a Disney Princess movie, riding into the sunset on a pristine white horse. They were both models, and they didn’t stop each other from achieving other goals in their life. For example, Chiara was ecstatic when Jake took up photography and Jake was overjoyed when Chiara went to college to study psychology because seeing each other succeed was what made each other happy.

Sunghoon was the best man at their wedding. He planned the best bachelor party Jake could ask for and detailedly organised their wedding alongside the maid of honour, Sheila. They even went tux-shopping together while Jake helped him put on a blazer when he said, “You should bring a date to the wedding, it would look weird if my best man had no date.” Sunghoon looked at his best friend like he hadn’t cried about his cursed love life and failed luck in relationships with him all these years. It was then that he realised how hopelessly lonely he was. Jake was getting married to the love of his life, Heeseung had a girlfriend of two years and Jay was only starting to go on dates and he was already gushing about how he thought he found the one. Sunoo refused to indulge in relationships until he became successful enough to raise a family, which everyone respected. Jungwon and Riki were still single, but everyone was playing cupid for them, trying to set them up with mutuals so they could at least venture into the world of committed relationships.

It was then that he realised that perhaps, after all the relationships he had been in and out of and after all the girls that told him that he wasn’t what they were looking for, perhaps he was fated to die with no hand to hold on his deathbed and no wife to share his love of figure skating with.

Like most people in his generation, Sunghoon took to Google to find answers to his fears during many eras in his life. He fell into a rabbit hole of Reddit threads, telling him that the wait was always worth it and Quora sites on people sharing their experiences of finding their one true love much later into their lives. He read about an elderly woman who only met who she believed to be her soul mate in her sixties after her husband died of leukaemia and when all the hairs on her head turned a rich shade of grey. He even learnt about the compatibility between zodiac signs and called his mother to ask about his horoscope but it turns out his family didn’t believe in the astronomical and spiritual. He researched the meaning of moles which led him to cry to Jay while drunk about how the mole on his left pinky toe held him back from the chance of having a marriage, let alone having a girlfriend. He even went to the booth of a shady palm reader who told him to just wait until she comes- he wasted his money on a sham.

Not long after meeting the swindling palm reader, Sunghoon found himself crying in Chiara’s lap as she was the closest person he had to a sister that he could contact. His tears stained her expensive leggings and her carved nails raked his scalp while she cooed and hushed him out of loneliness. His sobs echoed between the windows and walls of their million-dollar apartment and the television played a random movie, abandoned by those who were previously watching it.

“Am I ruining your clothes?” Sunghoon sniffled and Chiara chuckled, letting her knuckles smoothly glide past the corner of his eye to wipe away his tears.

“Not at all, ‘Hoon,” she hummed. “But you gotta tell me if you’re drunk before you say anything else.”

“I had a beer before coming here.”

“That makes sense.”

Since Chiara had met him, Sunghoon’s most prominent quality was his habit of drinking. On a normal night of a weekend or weekday, he’d drink with or without his friends and go bar-hopping alone if he had to. Beer was his favourite drink but there were times he had gotten drunk on wine as well. It wasn’t to say that his alcohol tolerance was low, it was just the quantity he consumed that made those around him fear for his liver and his life. She remembered finding herself in unthinkable, yet memorable, predicaments due to his habit- she once had to talk him out of jumping off her roof because he thought someone dared him to do so. After learning about his history of failed relationships, she assumed that was where the habit stemmed from but she wouldn’t say he was the modern-day drunk Romeo, nor could he be clinically diagnosed as an alcoholic. He was just deprived of what he truly craved for too many years.

“Do you want to talk now, at least?” She cooed again, patting his hair.

Sunghoon nodded, willing himself to gravitate off her lap and against the plush cushions of the pristine couch. His hair bounced as he shook his head, using the back of his hand to wipe his blotched face. His cheeks were puffy and his eyes struggled to stay open with the warm tears protruding past his lashes.

“At this point, I really don’t think I’m gonna find love, Chiara,” he frowned, slumping into his seat and pondering at the chandelier above him. If he tuned out the noises from the television, he could hear birds chirping, crickets singing and wind carrying wrinkled leaves across the building.

Chiara let out an exasperated sigh, pursing her lips and tilting her head towards the ceiling. “Did I ever tell you how lonely I was before meeting Jake?”

“What?” Sunghoon furrowed his brows. “Well, you did. But what does that have to do with this?”

“I’m saying that, before I met Jake, I barely had any friends and thought a guy that treated me toxically was the love of my life,” she explained. “But then I met Jake and suddenly, I wasn’t lonely anymore and he brought me good things. He gave me an opportunity to build a family, he loved me like no other, he cared for me, he respected me… and the list goes on,” she waved her hand, fingers frolicking amongst the air to signify glee.

“Yeah, and then you lived happily ever after,” he rolled his eyes, a scowl reaching his lips. “You met when you were teenagers. How old were you, eighteen? I’m in my twenties now. If I don’t meet the love of my life by thirty, I know I’m dying alone.”

“We met when we were teenagers because we just got lucky!” She defended. “Our love story was supposed to go a certain way and yours is supposed to go a different way. You can’t compare, you know? It’s just gonna make you feel worse. I mean, look at Sunoo. He hasn’t been on a proper date in years.”

“That’s because he doesn’t want to!”

“That’s not my point! My point is, you’ll meet her when the time is right-”

“Please don’t start with your destiny crap-”

“And you won’t die alone!”

When Chiara shook Sunghoon’s shoulder, Jake walked into the living room, a grin on his face as he looked between his wife and best friend. The sight wasn’t new to him; Sunghoon was moody over his teetering love life and Chiara was playing the therapist to install some faith and hope into him again. She was usually successful but on the occasions that she wasn’t, she’d let him camp on their couch and wallow over his emotions over a few drinks and lousy K-dramas. Jake would accompany him on most days and she would go to work or vice versa. Other times, they would call the rest of their friends and have a game night.

“Didn’t you say that you thought you were gonna marry a lot of the girls that you dated?” Jake’s grin didn’t leave his face. He leaned against the wall closest to the couch and crossed his arms across his chest. “Maybe the next one you meet might be the real love of your life.”

“You’re not funny.”

Sunghoon turned twenty-seven faster than he anticipated. He was still figure skating; he was one of the most well-known figure skating coaches in New York, in fact. He had dyed his hair silver now, a choice of fashion he had made a couple of years prior and it simply stuck to his personality. His love life was barren at that point, entertained with a few one night stands or hookups once in a while. But he was rich and successful and was even famous amongst figure skating enthusiasts.

His friends were exceptionally successful as well, though they didn’t change as much as he did. Heeseung was a rewarded music producer, perfecting the tunes of many well-known and upcoming artists. He had a house down in the suburbs, living a rather tranquil and amicable life with his wife, Karina, and a pair of twins who were just starting kindergarten. Sunghoon would see him and everyone else on most weekends during the dinners hosted at Jake and Chiara’s exorbitant apartment.

Jake was considered one of the top models in the industry, his name often showing up alongside that of Lucky Blue Smith and Bella Hadid. A little while after his fame in modelling expanded, his photography career bloomed as some were published in Vogue and Cosmopolitan magazines. Chiara’s modelling career was similar to his, collaborating with the Hadid sisters, Emily Ratajkowski and even Kendall Jenner. With a degree in psychology, she even dabbled as a therapist while being propelled into an aristocracy. The couple’s mutual success would explain their bougie possessions. They had a son, Kai, around three years old, who was already babbling about becoming a movie director when he grew up.

Jay had taken over his father’s travel company when he graduated college. There was no denying his power and authority in running the business better than his father. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the spoon was getting bigger. His wife, Jade, was a childhood friend of his, the daughter of his father’s best friend and no one was surprised when their engagement was announced. Though, some speculated they were only getting married because he knocked her up. They now had a two-year-old daughter and everyone was hoping for her and Jake’s kid to grow up and get married.

It was funny, really.

Sunoo made regular trips between America and Korea, deeming them as business trips to check on how his cosmetics factories were doing. His brand was quite famous and a lot of Sunghoon’s past girlfriends- or flings- were regular customers of his. It was almost entertaining to watch when he told them that the owner of their favourite make-up brand was one of his best friends- some even tried leaving him for Sunoo but he was already engaged to none other than Chiara’s best friend, Sheila.

Jungwon, too, was engaged to a talented dancer to whom Riki had introduced him. Now, Jungwon, Riki and Ella own a dance studio, training kids who are passionate about the art. The three lived together as roommates in a cosy apartment that looked like it was out of a 90s sitcom; faint yellow paint, bathrooms with wallpaper and random wall decor that adorned every room. Riki was in a rather fresh relationship and refused to introduce his girlfriend to anyone until he was sure it was long-term- but Jay would always call him out saying, “Don’t even lie, you have terrible commitment issues. You’re gonna break up with her just like you did the last.”

Sunghoon loved his group of friends, he truly did. But the one thing that bothered him was that, at that moment, while he had the mall’s entire skating rink to himself and while he was gliding and the only sound was the sound of scraping ice, his friends were all involved with a girlfriend or life partner while he was still alone and his last rendezvous being a girl he met at a bar whose name he hadn’t even learnt because he kicked her out the next morning.

Usually, when he was skating alone, not busy tutoring boys who were overconfident about doing the pirouette or helping little girls who were scared to let go of the training handle and skate on their own, he would imagine himself in the stadium of a championship. His jeans and dusty shirt would transform into black pants and a red shirt adorned with rhinestones and loose sleeves tight at the cuffs. There would be a crowd cheering for him to perform his best figure skating tricks and throwing flowers at him and the ice would be cluttered with rose petals. His family would be sitting in the front row and his sister would have a poster larger than the size of her head with the words ‘WE LOVE YOU SUNGHOON’ written with cheap crayons-

That was his memory of when he was awarded the Novice Gold medal of the Asian Figure Skating Trophy.

Perhaps the sound of his blade shaving the ice as he figure-skated triggered such memories in him, furthering his homesickness. The frosty wind puffed up his hair and paled his skin more than he thought it could. All he heard was silence, along with what sounded like a whirring ice shaver.

The static in his ear lasted for about two more minutes as he let his thoughts wander into deeper corners of his brain, opening forgotten boxes of memories that either made him want to cry or laugh. But slicing through it all was the bleak sound of sneakers connecting with the marble tiles of the mall he was in. The Ice rink he was in was located on the ground floor of a rather small mall. Along with the ice rink, the ground floor housed shops of many fast food kiosks and beverage stalls. So, Sunghoon's feet tilted to stop his blades from moving any further and the sound of scraping ice was ignored when he faced the direction of the food stalls.

Jogging towards the boba tea café was a girl wearing old, musty sneakers and a stack of books between her arms. Her hair bounced as she finally stood in a long cue to give her order and her red-tinted lips pursed as she stood on the tips of her toes to see how long the cue was. She wore thin, silver glasses that complimented her eyes, and silver rings that matched the colour of her white nail polish. Her brown trench coat covered most of her outfit but she wore a white shirt and black trousers, a belt to top it all off. With furrowed brows, she checked the time on what looked like a vintage watch on her wrist, tapped her musty sneakers against the floor in haste and poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue.

Sunghoon didn't know how he noticed such details while standing at least a dozen metres away from this mystery woman. However, he could admit the clichés he was experiencing at that moment. The world around him stopped and everyone was moving in slow motion apart from him and the girl with silver glasses. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, his breath becoming more shallow with every passing second. A few feet away, a little boy's dollop of ice cream fell from his cone and his cries echoed across the floors of the mall. A few feet away from that was a woman who bumped her steaming coffee into another man and his curses could be heard from miles away. Just outside of the ice rink was a little girl holding onto the metal railings separating her from dry to ice and yelling to her parents about how she wanted to learn to skate. These were moments he usually noticed, but this time, it was all irrelevant because of the girl with silver glasses and red-tinted lips.

HE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT took over him but Sunghoon found himself footing towards her with subtle steps. Out of his friend group, he was known to be the one with the best pick-up lines, smooth-talking girls into his apartment as easily as batting an eye. His grin charmed hundreds and he didn’t even know when he attained such ability. Perhaps it was around the time he stopped looking for love and started looking for rendezvous or perhaps it was after the time the palm reader robbed him of his precious twelve bucks. But now, he was nervous and he hadn’t felt this way since the first time he met his last girlfriend and that was years ago.

I should be running away, he thought to himself when he deciphered what he was feeling. It was almost like meeting a new friend again, a profound familiarity in his heartbeat. He asked himself what he planned on saying to her; what it was that people usually said when wanting to acquaint themselves with someone new. It wouldn’t be as simple as introducing himself, it wasn’t a café that they were in. It was a mall- people were bustling around with their own problems, talking amongst themselves and creating a buzz of sound that soon became white noise to him and they were worried about moving further up the line to get a drink, as was the girl he was standing behind.

His intention wasn’t to be a stalker or a creep but he could easily look over her shoulder and read the spine of her books. All the books were bound hard-cover and looked like they were taken out of an abandoned bookshelf. With the number of times Sunghoon had explored the mall, he figured she had bought them from the antique store located somewhere on the top floor. The titles on the books were almost faded but he could figure them out as academic works- some were about wars he had never even heard of and some were about archaeology. He deemed himself lucky when he recognised a title. “The Battle of Yangxia”, it read in faded, golden cursive and he fought his conscience to remember where he remembered the name from.

A few months ago, Jay was hyper-fixated on Chinese history and spent an entire dinner ranting about the several wars they were never taught in high school history. Riki had pestered about how high school education was useless compared to what he learnt in college and that led to a whole conversation on its own. That night, Sunghoon remembered laying on Jake’s balcony hammock with a beer in one hand and phone in the other, sexting some girl he found on a dating app.

“I’ve heard about that before,” he meekly mumbled, leaning to reach the girl’s ear.

The breath of air he let out after finishing his sentence tickled her skin, travelling down her neck and running a shiver down her spine. She didn’t register his sentence but his voice and presence made her look past her shoulder, brows furrowing with confusion. She hugged her books tighter, intimidated by a stranger. It would be the first time any stranger took interest in her, the perplexed gape of her jaw was justified.

“The Battle of Yangxia?” Sunghoon cleared his throat when they made eye contact, offering her a toothy grin whilst clasping his hands behind his back. He rocked back and forth on his heels, tripping while failing to keep up with the line moving forward.

“Oh,” the girl looked at her books, re-reading the same title he was talking about. “Yeah,” she smiled back, expecting the interaction to end and looking away. She almost rolled her eyes when he spoke again.

“My friend had a phase where he geeked out about Chinese history,” he continued leaning towards her, hoping to elicit more of an interaction from her. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.”

“Y/N,” she didn’t want to come off as rude or disrespectful so she introduced herself anyway. With another glance over her shoulder, she offered him a polite smile, ignoring the arm he had extended for a handshake.

Sunghoon cleared his throat and returned his hand to his back when he realised her rejection. He chewed on his lips, standing straight and continuing moving forward in the line while keeping his gaze on her hair, waves that flowed down her back that complimented her outfit. Then he stared at her sneakers which had worn-out laces and soles that looked like they had walked back and forth in the fires of hell. It almost made him chuckle but he figured she must have a reason for still keeping them.

“So, Y/N,” he mused. “Do you come around here often? First time I’ve seen you around.”

Y/N really rolled her eyes this time, clenching her jaw and poking her tongue into the flesh of her cheek. She wasn’t sure why she was getting annoyed. Normally, if someone tried making conversation with her or noticed her books, she would sheepishly respond with a plethora of nerves. But with this man, or Sunghoon, as he called himself, she wanted to move as far away as possible from him. But she thought she could humour him for some time, perhaps get rid of the pit- or butterflies- in her stomach. She couldn’t tell which it was but regardless, she took it negatively.

“You say that like you work here?” She looked over her shoulder with a scoff, lips almost pulling into a smile.

“I do, actually, work here,” Sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m the ice-skating coach here.”

Y/N’s eyes almost widened, leaning to her side to glance at the huge ice-skating rink that was relatively familiar to her. For the time being, it was empty and if she squinted hard enough, she could see the fog of frost floating about the rink. “What’re you doing here instead of taking a class then?” she raised a brow.

“Even teachers need their breaks,” he defended with a pursed smile and shrugged. “And what do you do?” By the time he asked his question, Y/N had started ordering her drink. He interjected, asking for her to order the same for him but she looked at him with narrowed eyes, expression questioning his intentions. “I'll pay,” he offered enthusiastically.

“I’d rather pay for my own drink,” she tutted with a sarcastic smile and handed the cashier her money. “Thanks, though,” Sunghoon dug in his pockets to find change and he paid as well, rocking back and forth on his heels with crossed arms.

It was a moment of awkwardness as they waited for their drinks. Y/N stared at Sunghoon with eyes narrowed to slits, shifting her weight onto one leg and tapping her feet impatiently on the floor. Her shabby sneakers made thuds that were drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the mall, the rest of the world moving past them while Sunghoon looked everywhere but at her. For the first time in a long time, he felt dejected and incompetent in front of someone he intended to pursue. He wondered if she should take it as a sign to move on, simply walk away with his drink and never look back because he knew he would cringe and hit his head against his pillow. Yet another part of him wondered how it would feel to pry at this girl, Y/N, and find out whether attitude was the only thing she had to offer.

“I’m an archaeologist, by the way,” she told him while grabbing their drinks. She smiled at him before handing him his tiger milk boba, struggling to keep her books in her arms.

“That’s cool,” Sunghoon grinned, taking his drink from her. “You need help with those?”

“No,” she assured and stepped back, giving him a small wave before walking away.

He stared at her as she made her way to the exit and he could see the corners of her books peeking from her grin, jogging as she drank her traditional boba tea. “Can I get your number, by chance?” he called out and he was sure she heard him but chose to ignore him. Regardless, he walked away, too, with a smile on his face and a skip in his step as he caught hold of the straw in his mouth.

After that interaction, Sunghoon drove to Jake and Chiara’s house like there was no tomorrow; like his heart would stop if he didn’t tell his best friends about the girl he had just met. He wanted to tell them all about the girl who showed him attitude but attention at the same time and he wanted to tell them about how she was an archaeologist. He wanted to tell them about her battered shoes and he wanted to tell them about every single time she smiled at him because, God, did it feel like a breath of fresh air after talking to Y/N; like it was his first time tasting sugar; like his dreams had come to life.

When he burst through his friends’ door, he took no time rushing in and asking for everyone’s attention. The smile on his face lit up the room brighter than the chandelier ever could and Jake couldn’t remember the last time he saw his best friend that way. From the kitchen, he heard Jay asking what all the ruckus was about and Sunghoon skipped towards him, grabbing onto the chair beside him and slipping into the seat.

“I have to tell you guys something,” Sunghoon gushed but his brows raised when making eye contact with Jay. “What are you doing here anyways?”

“Having lunch?” He responded with his mouth stuffed with bok choy and egg, chopsticks held in the air as though he was asking how more obvious his predicament could be.

“What is it?” Chiara entered the kitchen with Kai in her arms, Jake following suit with widened eyes and an excited grin.

Sunghoon ushered everyone to sit and took Kai in his arms. He let there be a moment of curiosity while everyone begged him to tell them what he was excited about and why he was smiling like he had just seen a rainbow. The kettle whistled while Chiara guessed that he might have gotten selected for a figure skating show and the oven dinged when Jake guessed that he probably bought another dog. Sunghoon was known to adopt dogs- he had six in his home being cared for by a caretaker he had to hire.

“Well,” he started. “Guess what Kai? I met a girl,” he cooed with a toothy smile, kissing the kid’s dark hair who laughed in his lap and clapped. Kai looked at him with curious eyes, having no clue what it meant but was excited by the smile on his uncle's face.

Jay and Jake’s expressions dropped, sighing with the anti-climatic news. “Another girl,” the latter rolled his eyes but his wife slapped his bicep in disappointment.

“Don’t be that way,” Chiara tutted and turned to Sunghoon with glimmering eyes. She rested her chin on her palm, her elbow on the table. “Tell us about her.”

And so Sunghoon told them everything he could muster up while hugging Kai like he was his anchor to reality. His friends listened to him intently, wondering if this encounter would end like all the others. While he talked about her, Chiara and Jake were reminded of how they first met in a photoshoot that started awkwardly but ended in an unexpected friendship. When Sunghoon told them she was an archaeologist, Jay suggested they google her as Jake and Chiara left to sleep.

Jay and Sunghoon spent the rest of the night on Google with a couple of beers, going through any article with her name mentioned. They didn’t find any social media but they did stay up reading one of her papers that had been published on artefacts dug out in Cairo, devouring hours of their time carefully decoding the meaning of words they had never heard of or learning about people they’d never learnt of.

When they were done reading the paper, Sunghoon slouched deeper into the chair and threw his head back, taking a moment to stare at the ceiling and ask himself if he were crazy for Y/N or crazy for love. “Do you think I’ll ever see her again?” By that time, Jay was fast asleep, his face pressed onto the cold table. Sunghoon chuckled and shook his head, his hair falling over his forehead. He dragged his palms down his face, willing himself to stay awake. “Will I fuck this up?” he whispered.

That same night, Y/N had settled in the public library with her books and her students’ previous test papers. The glare of her laptop sored her eyes while she looked through mark scheme upon mark scheme. She must say, she would get quite disappointed with some of her students. Ones that had potential were the ones that flunked their exams and those that did well in school were the ones she saw no future for. In only her second year of teaching, she wondered if she would stay a professor and the esteemed New York University or if she would get another chance to go another dig like she did in Cairo a few years ago.

Her life was peaceful when she wasn’t travelling or going on year-long digs. It was filled with old artefacts, books that could fall apart if she held them the wrong way and cracking paintings that either hung on her walls or stacked behind her closet. The latest addition would be grading test papers and prolonged essays. Sometimes, she liked this life. It would get lonely but her golden retriever, Blue, would keep her company. Her apartment was void of emotion but she was rarely home anyway. Other times, she missed being around people she could converse with. She missed sitting under the sun with a straw hat on her head, brushing away at the sand to uncover an old statue with people that she could laugh with.

By the time she was finished grading papers, the library was empty and her head was swarming with thoughts about the man she met in the mall. Sunghoon, as she recalled his name, wasn’t hard to find online. There were videos of his younger self competing in figure skating tournaments, working in the mall with a pearly smile on his face and a glimmer in his eyes and though he didn’t post much on social media, he was all over model Jake Sim’s Instagram. He was best friends with him and even knew an upcoming producer, Heeseung Lee. She even found pictures of Sunghoon Park with his natural black hair.

On the way home, she watched all the videos she could find of him figure skating, the glow of her phone illuminating the back of her cab. When she found herself smiling, she put her phone away and gazed at the street lights, wondering if she would ever see him again. When she saw a few Chinese restaurants and convenience stores still open, she realised she should have gotten dinner before going home. There were no groceries in the fridge or her cupboards. Perhaps there was some milk left. Y/N’s ego was too big to even ask her parents for a loan.

She was reminded of how she had a roommate a few years ago- Anna. She used to be the one who restocked groceries and cooked dinner, sometimes even reminding her to take care of herself and sleep; the responsible one, essentially. It used to be fun back then when they would sometimes stay up late and binge dramedies or gossip about whatever their work lives had to offer. Now she was somewhere in London, working with Bellerby Globemakers as a cartographer and left Blue for her to take care of. They lived together because it was easier to pay rent and serve food on their plates. Now they were in better places in life, earning more money than they previously were yet Y/N still struggled to keep her schedules in check. Oh, how she missed having a roommate.

The coming weekend, she willed herself out of bed and into a grocery store. Y/N realised that some of her fondest childhood memories were amongst the isles of many stores similar to the ones she was in. She laughed the loudest when her father pushed her around in one of those bright and colourful trolleys kids could sit in and her eldest brother always let her buy whatever junk food she wanted, regardless of what their mother said. She remembered how she would shoplift stationery with her cousins until she turned nineteen and she still had some of the pictures she took with her high school friends in the breakfast cereal aisle.

She also noticed that it was during times like this, when she wasn’t preoccupied with work, that her thoughts would wander off to Sunghoon- the boy she dubbed a handsome stranger with pouty lips and starry eyes. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she was approached by a stranger who wanted to strike up a conversation. These days, the only social interactions she had were with fellow professors from the university, her students, her family or the occasional text on social media that she never bothered responding to. Though she realised she was awfully mean to him, she had forgotten what it was like interacting with people.

Y/N forgot when she became so introverted. Or rather, she forgot why she became comfortable being an introvert. Back in high school, she remembered always wanting to go out with her friends on the weekend and she remembered unapologetically making acquaintances with any human that crossed her path. Now she was reserved, too shy to approach anyone and building up her walls every time someone had something to say to her. Maybe it was a phase she would never grow out of- her parents did always say that in your mid-twenties, your personality kind of just sticks.

Her cart was filled with frozen foods and bags of fruit by the time she stood in line to check out. Impatiently, she tapped her foot on the floor and checked her watch, wondering when she could go home and heat a pizza for lunch. From what she remembered, she still had her new books to finish reading for the updated syllabus in class and she committed to cleaning her apartment so that was what she was going to do for the rest of the day. Eat, read, clean and repeat.

While Y/N stood in line, Sunghoon and Riki were walking past the same grocery store. Sunghoon stopped in his tracks when he recognised her from the corner of his eyes, through the glare of the glass doors. She was wearing that trench coat again and her feet were clad with the same worn-out sneakers. Her fingers were adorned with vintage, silver rings, this time and he noticed how her shopping cart was basically a stack of frozen pizzas and a few green apples. He chuckled mindlessly to himself.

Riki continued walking for a good ten seconds before he realised his friend was peeping into some shop with the brightest smile he’d seen on him in days, eyes gleaming under the sunlight. He swore he saw his entire body glowing from some kind of happiness he didn’t understand.

“Hyung?” Riki called, raising his brows and slightly stretching his arms as though he was asking what made him stop walking. “What are you staring at?”

Sunghoon didn’t move his gaze or falter his expression but instead continued to wave Riki towards him, flailing his hand around in the air in a way that made him look stupid. “You remember that girl I told you about?” He asked when he approached him.

“The one from the mall?” Riki confirmed. “The one that acted like a bitch?”

“Hey, I never called her that,” Sunghoon stood straight again, furrowing his brows at the boy.

“Well, you described her that way,” Riki raised his hands in defence, pursing his lips and taking a step back. “What about her, though?”

“She’s in the store,” Sunghoon pointed a thumb towards where she stood and Riki traced his gaze in her direction. “The one in the trench coat?”

“Oh,” Riki cocked his head to the side. “She’s pretty. But I’m getting late for work and you promised you’d visit the studio today,” he argued, face falling into a frown.

It wasn’t that Riki was uninterested in his friend’s love life- he knew how much he craved a significant other; someone to love and to be loved by. Yet, this time, the boy was only pulling Sunghoon’s attention away because he was sceptical of how it was going to end. No, he didn’t have faith in the fact that Sunghoon and Y/N could end up happy, solely judging from past experience.

He’d seen how much he was hurt by all the girls in his past. He was there when Sunghoon would stumble into one of their houses drunk, whining over heartbreak for probably the hundredth time. Riki was there to take care of him on nights when he was supposed to be studying for his finals and he was there when Sunghoon would introduce yet another girl to the group- he would call out their flaws every single time and he was right about the girls every single time. Though he hoped his predictions would turn out wrong, he knew his judgement was usually right.

He still remembered meeting that one red-head ex-girlfriend of his from a couple of years ago. Sunghooon had brought her into Jake and Chiara’s kitchen and he just knew that she would cheat on him. He presumed it was something about the way she smiled or the way she shook his hand that gave him a negative first impression. She was the sultry type, and though he had no issue with that, it didn’t mean she could use it as an excuse to flirt with every other man in the room. Riki was right about her and it would only make sense if he assumed he would be right about Y/N- she wasn’t a good idea. But for Sunghoon’s sake, he decided to think positive thoughts- maybe they would work out and he would get married and finally allow Riki a chance to be the best man in someone's wedding.

“Riki, just wait for like, ten minutes,” he pleaded. “Yeah? I’ll just… say hi and come back.”

“My, God,” Riki rolled his eyes while Sunghoon slowly stepped towards the entry of the store with a lopsided grin. “Fine, go,” he shook his head in disappointment and stared at the rest of their interaction from the other side of the glass, gagging with a cringe.

Sunghoon walked into the store with a skip in his step, grabbing the nearest candy bar and beelining towards the check-out line. He didn’t know where he got his confidence from- when he saw her for the first time in that mall, he was a nervous bundle of a mess but now, he stood right behind Y/N and he smiled when he knew she didn’t realise. So, he leaned towards her ear and said, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

Y/N recognised his voice immediately, swinging around with a gasp of surprise. She covered her gaping mouth with the back of her hand, her glasses reflecting the ray of sunlight when she made eye contact with him. When she comprehended his figure, she felt a wave of relief wash down her torso. “You scared me,” she moved her hand to her chest, gulping. “Didn’t think I’d see you again,” she breathed out a smile.

“That too, in the same predicament,” Sunghoon smiled back.

The pair moved to the front of the cue and he helped her stock her items onto the conveyer belt. “What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked. “Stalking me?”

“No,” he mused innocently. “But if that’s what makes you feel better…”

“Oh, please,” she brushed him off and glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Hey, we’re meeting in a checkout line for the second time. Don’t you think it’s fate?”

“You’re stupid if you believe in fate,” she laughed at his pouting expression. “Seriously, you believe in that crap?”

“Don’t make me feel bad about it, I have a good reason,” he defended.

“Well, what’s the reason?” She paid the bill with her phone, waiting for an answer from the handsome stranger.

He smirked at her, digging one hand into the pocket of his trousers and the other bringing the candy bar to his chin. He looked her up and down, raising an eyebrow to question if she knew what response would come. When she repeated her question, he asked, “I’ll tell you about it on a date sometime?”

SEEING SUNGHOON SKATING ON the ice rink in jeans and a shirt that barely insulated his torso was like watching birds flying freely with their wings spread in freedom. Y/N supposed that after years of dedicating his time to the rink, one would most likely get used to the cold. He had the brightest smile on his face, the type that made his cheeks bulge and his eyes disappear into his eyelids. His teeth glimmered pearly white behind his pouty lips and she wasn’t sure she had the heart to join him and ruin his solitude.

Over the past few months that Y/N spent getting to know Sunghoon, she realised how much he enjoyed his own company. It was ironic really, how he was known as the womaniser amongst his friends but would separate hours in his schedule just to be alone in his apartment with a beer and an old movie, in solitary with his thoughts and his six dogs. She also learnt that he kept a diary, entries meticulously planned in a manner that allowed him to write the smallest details of his day. It would explain the locked drawers in his room- a precaution he consciously took part in because he knew his friends would snoop if they ever found them. He agreed he told them pretty much everything but every man needs a secret of his own, he would say.

Even with their busy schedules, both being teachers of some sort, they managed to squeeze in a few dates after class, for lunch, during the weekends or late-night walks in the park where the moon was waxing but the stars weren’t as prominent due to New York’s pollution. She was even a frequent visitor at his apartment after the first month of knowing him, often sleeping over because she was too lazy to catch a cab and refused to let him drive her home. The latter was mostly because she was scared to bring him to her apartment, the messy space between four walls she lived in that hadn’t been rearranged or properly cleaned in over a year. At least there were no bugs hiding in nooks and crevices.

On the nights she spent in his apartment, one that was only slightly bigger than her own, they’d find themselves lying on his couch, his chin on her head, as they watched a random black and white movie they couldn’t help laughing at. His dogs would be with them, some gathered on the floor and others burrowing themselves in the spaces on his couch. Some nights, they would doze asleep and other times they’d end up in conversations where Sunghoon would talk about his days in high school with a roll in his eyes or about his family with the same smile he would have while skating on the ice rink. He would tell her about his tight-knit group of friends and he would talk about his struggles with perfecting the English language. Y/N would tell him about her siblings- four brothers and three sisters- with whom she talked to every day but had no idea of how she struggled financially sometimes. She would tell him about her international escapades when she went on archaeology trips and to make him feel better, she would tell him that her high school experience wasn’t something she wanted to look back on either.

She still remembered the first conversation they had when he took her out for the first time. He brought her to an upper-class restaurant for dinner, the pair dressed in formal attire to fit the aesthetic. Y/N had panicked at first, rambling about how she wasn’t sure if she could afford it but he assured her that he got the tab and that their table was already reserved so she had no other choice but to accompany him. With a grin, he led her to their table and pulled her chair out for her like a gentleman from a family with old money. The restaurant had golden chandeliers and a menu that went on for an unlimited amount of pages. For the first few minutes, they sat awkwardly, having no idea how to start a conversation but then she told him how it had been years since she came to a fancy restaurant as such and the pair couldn’t shut up around each other since then.

Their other dates included trips to museums where Y/N would effortlessly describe every artefact or painting on display and Sunghoon would listen to the historical anecdotes she had to offer. They once spent hours at The MET- she knew the history and he knew the celebrity galas that would take place annually. He took her to a bookstore once and he realised that if she could, she would have bought half the books in the store. She told him that she could finish an average novel in one and a half days and he refused to believe her unless he witnessed it first-hand. It was a bet the pair had forgotten about but he brought it up during a random phone call but she never found the time to prove herself.

“Come join me, Y/N,” Sunghoon waved for her from the middle of the ice rink and she nervously shook her hair.

Surprisingly, it was the first time he took her ice skating. One would assume it would be the first date he’d take her on because it was all he could talk about sometimes. Meanwhile, Y/N had never been ice skating before. She wasn’t much of a sports enthusiast either so convincing her to play any form of sport would be taking her miles away from her comfort zone. Her biggest form of adrenaline would be riding a high-risk amusement park ride or teaching a class on Malta’s catacombs without previous preparation.

“Come on,” Sunghoon encouraged again, slowly making his way towards her with his hands stretched in front of him and an excited smile beaming on his snowy features. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll hold your hands until you get the hang of it.”

His bare hands hold her glove-clad pair and her gaze stays on the way he holds her and wistfully walks her into the ice. She almost trips at first but after a few rounds of stomping and digging her skating blades into the ice, she could skate on her own without trembling or shaking. Sunghoon made rounds around her and took pictures of her, commenting on how she looked cute with a helmet on her head and a puffer jacket on her shoulders. She giggled and tried covering up the camera of his phone but failed and focused on balancing herself instead.

When Sunghoon giggled, she found herself staring at him for longer than she usually would. When she agreed to go on a date with him all those months ago, she wasn’t expecting herself to enjoy his company. She expected them to come out in the end as friends but then she found herself texting him every morning before waking up and every night before falling asleep. She thought about him every moment she had to herself and waited for the next time she could potentially meet him. She found herself noticing and making note of his small habits and characteristics and she wondered if he prioritised her the same way.

The last time she remembered feeling this attached to someone was in high school. Her brothers had warned her about the boy she had been getting close to and even threatened to harm him if she was harmed. They had dated for a short period, their relationship questionable to her siblings but deemed perfect by her friends. When they broke up, she remembered spending weeks crying over loneliness and it was then that she realised how toxic it all had been. With that memory in her head, she approached Sunghoon with more caution, especially while knowing his history with women.

“It’s getting late, no?” He pulled her to the exit of the rink by her hands, softly whispering in her ear. “We should probably head home.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, pulling off her gloves and jacket while he helped rid her of the horrid helmet that messed with her hair.

“I’ll drive you home?” He offered but was met with a brief moment of silence.

He waited for her to respond, her smile slowly fading from her face, replaced by exhaustion and fatigue. Y/N thought about how she hadn't enjoyed herself in so long and the only reason she was ending her days with tiredness from activities was because of Sunghoon. If she was being honest, he was probably the only person she had been outside her house with since Sarah.

“I don’t wanna go home,” she admitted, a shy purse on her lips.

Sunghoon chuckled and kneeled to help her off her skating shoes. “I just realised you’ve never taken me to your place,” he mumbled. “Why not tonight?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I like your apartment better.” “Are you ever gonna let me in your apartment?”

“Well, not today,” she passed off her comment as a joke but realised how put off he was by this. His gaze lowered and his lips pressed into a straight line. She wasn’t sure if she was even saying the right things anymore. “Can we just spend the night at your place for now? Come over next week, I’ll introduce you to my sisters.”

With that, Sunghoon complied with a smile and the pair spent the night cuddled in his bed, falling into a deep slumber.

Y/N spent the next week cleaning her apartment to perfection, not like before when she’d just scrub her tables and collapse from laziness. No, she put her heart and soul into making her apartment look presentable. Her countertops showed her reflection and her tables were organised after what felt like decades. Paintings and piles of books sat on her bay window which she excused for aesthetic purposes and her carpet wasn’t lined with Blue’s shedding anymore. She didn’t just do this for her sisters, she realised it was mostly to give Sunghoon a good first impression. Her sisters knew she was messy but getting to know someone new and allowing them into a messy apartment was like being handed the death sentence in her books.

The day her sisters would visit rolled around in less time than she expected. They brought her huge bouquets of flowers and home-cooked meals to have together for dinner. God knows how long it’s been since you must have cooked, they said while pinching her cheeks and for the first time in a long time, she was reminded of how much she used to dread being the youngest sibling of eight. Willow and Rose, being the eldest compared to Laurel and Y/N, tended to baby them to the point of frustration. They were adults now, living independently with their individual families but the oldest siblings still had their way of annoying the youngest.

All her brothers, Willow and Rose were married and Laurel was very recently engaged. Using that excuse, they crashed at Y/N’s apartment when they weren’t out celebratory shopping. From the second they entered her house, it felt like all hell had broken loose; like a tsunami of opinions had been unleashed. Willow was tutting at her messy fridge and Rose was opening and closing her cupboards in hopes of finding cleanliness but there was no hope. With a pitiful smile, Laurel sat on the couch with her arms crossed and Y/N joined her.

Over the next few hours, she had an earful of how she should move to an apartment with paint that didn’t chip off her walls and how she should rid herself of some of her useless positions. They demanded to go grocery shopping later and insisted on cooking dinner because she looked like she hadn’t eaten in over a century. At the end of the day, Y/N was the youngest of them all and would be pampered the most.

She formed an image in her head where she was surrounded by her three sisters with forks, spoons and chopsticks piled with food being shoved down her throat. Her tiny table was filled with dishes from all sorts of cuisines and juices of all kinds of fruit. As the cherry on top, there was a giant chocolate cake placed right at the centre. She was trying her best not to choke on the food, her cheeks swollen red, while her sisters wore hearty smiles, oblivious to her suffering from their smothering care.

“Make something nice for dinner, then,” Y/N stopped herself from flinching at the image in her head, one that would surely haunt her in her dreams. “I’ll introduce you to someone.”

Sunghoon didn’t realise how nervous he was to meet Y/N’s sisters until a few hours before he had to meet them. It was a mix of excitement and dread; his lack of confidence in himself to impress a potential partner’s family. He had texted her relentlessly, asking the most mindless doubts about what colour clothes to wear, if he should bring them any gifts or if he should dye his hair back to black because his platinum blond felt unprofessional all of a sudden. He wondered if they would disapprove of his profession and chalk it up to the fact that he had wealthy parents but he had to remind himself that Y/N’s profession wasn’t providing her with much earnings either.

Y/N responded to his texts calmly, which brought him the same effect. He found himself taking deeper breaths and told him that this wouldn’t be the first time he’s met a girl’s family. It was just her sisters which meant he wouldn’t have to face the wrath of her brothers yet. From what she had told him, they could start a boxing match with him in the middle of the road if they thought he wasn’t good enough for their sister. He wondered how some of the sisters managed to get married with such protective brothers.

Y/N gave him simple advice: compliment Willow's hair, she’ll like you instantly; bring chocolates as a present and Rose will be the first to commend you; ask Laurel how she met her fiancé, she loves telling the story; and don’t make it obvious that I gave you this advice.

He repeated these points to himself as he stood in front of her door, a box of gourmet chocolates in his hands and a red scarf tied around his neck. Dramatically, for his own satisfaction, he breathed heavily and told himself that dinner would go perfectly as planned if he just stuck to the advice.

Compliment Willow's hair.

Give Rose the chocolates.

Ask Laurel about her fiancé.

Be natural.

Then, the door opened before he could knock thrice and Y/N stood in front of him on the verge of sweating, a faux and toothy smile on her face. Her widened eyes told him to hurry inside the apartment and he made a point to slip his shoes before he followed her into the living room.

Her apartment wasn’t what he expected. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure what he expected. When he would imagine her in her apartment, he would simply picture a space similar to his home; white walls, minimalistic furniture and large balconies. But her apartment was something he would expect out of Pinterest, the type that girls swooned over as dark academia but in reality was just messily decorated and cleaned. Her walls were ivory with chipping paint, her couch a mustard yellow and her shelves overflowing with books that she had to pile in corners of her room. There were a myriad of paintings, some framed and some not, some hung neatly on the wall and others leaning onto any flat surface. He also spotted random artefacts, ones he was sure she would give a backstory of when the dinner is over.

“Sunghoon,” Y/N whispered rather agitatedly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a shy smile. “Just checking out your apartment.”

Rolling her eyes, she led him to the kitchen, her sisters swallowed in a conversation at the dinner table. The three sisters ceased their exchange in silence with smiles as welcoming and warm as the dishes on the tables. To his relief, he didn’t have to introduce himself. He simply stood there, palms sweating, legs on the verge of folding and a toothy smile that he would not want to be photographed in, while Y/N introduced him to her sisters and rid him of his scarf.

“You’re just on time,” Rose cheered with her hands together, ushering Sunghoon to the empty seat beside her. “And you brought chocolate!” She cheered as he made himself comfortable in the wooden chair, an awkward chuckle slipping past his lips. He weaved his fingers together on the table while she took the box of chocolates in her hands and examined the brand in awe.

Ding! Sunghoon thought to himself as a moment of victory.

“It’s considered rude to visit someone’s house for the first time without gifts, in my family,” Sunghoon blabbered and shared an award glance with Y/N.

Willow and Laurel looked at him with questioning looks and he offered them another awkward smile. “Y/N told us you’re from Korea?” Willow asked.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon nodded. Then followed a moment of silence no one knew how to fill. The group of five simply looked at each other and Blue entered the kitchen from one of the bedrooms like a saving grace. “Oh, is this your dog?” he looked at Y/N with excitement and slipped off his seat to kneel in front of the Golden Retriever.

“Yeah, his name is Blue,” Y/N cooed with a proud smile.

“I know, you told me,” he hummed, ruffling Blue’s fur and touching his nose to the dog’s.

“You’re fond of dogs?” Laurel asked.

“I adore them,” he mused. “I’ve got six dogs myself.”

With that statement, the conversation somehow burst between the group. Though Y/N didn’t contribute much, she enjoyed the sight in front of her. Willow filled Sunghoon’s plate with food despite his objections and Laurel was gushing about her fiancé’s dog- which is when Sunghoon slipped in the question of how they met. Ding! She rambled about how they met in the airport at the ripe age of twenty-one and had been in each other’s lives since then- for eight years.

The story almost brought Sunghoon to tears, being a sucker for love himself. He felt jealous of people that had perfect and long-lasting relationships, the type where they would meet at young ages and grow old together and survive life through thick and thin. It was the type of love he always craved for. But then his gaze met Y/N and he forgot about the pang of loneliness in his chest. He continued asking Willow which salon she went to because her hair looked pristine. Ding!

As dinner came to an end, they told him anecdotes of their childhood and embarrassed Y/N to their full capacity. A story that stuck with him was of when they took a family trip to the beach, eight kids in the back of the car with their miserable parents in the front, fighting for just a moment of silence or peace. Y/N was described as a loud child, the one that was most spoiled because she was the youngest, showered with love from her older siblings and all her wishes granted by her parents. That day, she had spent all her time with her eldest brother because he was brooding from going through a recent breakup and played around him building terrible sand castles and collecting broken seashells until he laughed and played with her.

They even showed him her baby pictures.

He could imagine Y/N at that age, holding sand in her chubby palms and laughing while running away from the waves. He could imagine her in a pink-coloured bucket hat covering her tiny head, knitted onesies as her outfit for the beach. He could imagine her milk teeth peeking from behind her lips when she laughed and he could imagine just how happy she must have been when her brother accepted her seashells as a token of happiness.

“What are you laughing at?” Y/N asked, brushing her fingers over his chin.

The pair had winded up on her couch once her sisters were off to sleep. Sunghoon’s old figure skating videos were playing on the television because according to Y/N, if you get to see my childhood pictures, I get to see yours. They were long forgotten by both and the television reflected black while they kissed and cuddled, anything to use their time alone for their benefit. Eventually, they ended up naked under a thin blanket, his slender hands drawing circles on her shoulder and her arms wrapped around his neck, pecking his jaw anytime she felt like it.

“Nothing,” he chuckled, shaking his head and kissing her forehead. “I’m just thinking about you being all hyper and active as a baby,” he confessed, unable to stop the rest of his giggles.

“Hey,” she furrowed her brows, attempting to kick her leg at him but her movements were constricted as he held her tighter. “You just called me boring now.”

“No, don’t take it that way,” he grinned. “It’s just hard to imagine you now the way you were as a child. You know, because you’re all calm and collected now. The only times I’ve seen you laugh, like properly laugh and cackle-”

“I don’t cackle-”

“Is when we watch funny movies or when I make jokes,” he mused. “I mean even at dinner, your sisters made pretty good jokes but you didn’t laugh.”

“I normally would have. I’m quite open around my family,” she mumbled. “Just kinda felt overwhelmed today.”

“Because of me?”

She nodded against his chest.

“Why is that?”

“Because before you came, I was stressed thinking of whether they’d like you or not. I was praying that they’d like you,” she admitted. “And once you came and they started getting along with you, I was so relieved. I mean, even Willow seemed to get along with you so well. At that point, I had used up all my energy so I just took the time to relax and… observed, I guess.”

Sunghoon hummed, letting his fingers run lines up and down her spine. “What’d you observe, then?”

“Nothing in particular,” she said. “Just listening to them talk and you talk and bonding. It was nice to watch.”

“I’m glad it went well, then,” he nodded, chin moving to rest on her head. “I really thought they would hate me, you know? I was nervous before meeting them, too. Rose is the one that made it less awkward, it’s honestly all thanks to her that I managed with conversation.”

“Yeah, she’s always been like that,” Y/N agreed. “She has a way of making people around her feel comfortable. It’s not gonna be that way with my brothers, though.”

“Oh, dear God, I don’t even wanna think about that,” Sunghoon whined, hugging her closer as if it could change the inevitable.

“It’s fine, ‘Hoon,” she chuckled. “I’ll be there. My sisters will be there. I’ve told my parents somewhat about you and they seem to be fond of you. They even ask about you sometimes-”

“You talk to your parents about me?” Sunghoon’s grin widened into a smirk, moving his head so that he could peek at the flustered look on her face.

“Yeah?” She trailed, her cheeks turning a shade of crimson he couldn’t notice in the dark.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he started. “I told my parents about you, too.”

“Really?” Y/N’s eyes couldn’t stop blinking for a moment, her mouth hanging agape

“Yeah, why is that so surprising?”

With a shit-eating grin on his mouth, he lifted her by her waist and made her straddle his hips so that he could see her expressions as they talked. She yelped as she made herself comfortable, reaching towards the armrest to grab his shirt so she could cover herself. Her palms spanned across his chest while his fingers trailed to unbutton his shirt on her torso, playing with the skin on her stomach.

“Well, you know,” she responded with a grin reflecting his, unable to control the butterflies in her stomach. “You told me about your past relationships… and I didn’t think you’d tell them so early-”

“It’s been a while since we started seeing each other, no?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“It only seemed fair that I told them,” he shrugged, hands pulling her closer. “My sister’s quite excited to meet you, by the way.”

“How long has it been since you last told them about a girl you were seeing?”

“A couple of years… a long time, actually,” he pursed his lips in thought. “I haven’t been in a relationship lasting this long in years… it almost feels new.”

“Really?” She smiled even wider.

“That makes you feel good, huh?”

“Well, obviously,” she shrugged proudly. “Your parents like me.”

“Your parents like me, too,” he giggled.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed, leaning down so she could rest her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck once again.

“And you know my friends that I keep mentioning?”

She hummed.

“I want you to meet them, too.”

“Somehow, that’s more nerve-wracking than meeting your family.”

Sunghoon erupted into laughter, his arms wrapping around her torso. She could feel the rise and fall in his chest, his heart rate increasing by the second. “There’s no need for that,” he assured with a croon. “They’ll like you and you’ll like them.”

“But didn’t you say Riki didn’t really like me when you told him about me?”

“That was when I met you the first time,” he said. “To be fair, you were kind of bitchy-”

“Ok, fine, my bad,” she rolled her eyes. “But what if they don’t like me?”

“They’ll like you,” he repeated. “Especially Chiara.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. When I started telling her about you, she was swooning. I’m not joking. She was begging to meet you-”

“When was this?”

“Like a month ago,” he said. “She’s been asking about you for a while. She wants you to come for next week’s dinner.”

From the myriad of times Sunghoon had talked about Chiara and all his other friends, she learned that she was like the mother of the group. Her and Jake’s house was where everyone could stop by even without an invitation- everyone had a spare key to their apartment. Her pantry was always filled with snacks and drinks of all sorts and if anyone needed anything to be whipped up, she would oblige with no hesitation. She was the person that could accept anyone regardless of their needs or flaws, the one that knew how to make everyone around her safe. But regardless of knowing all that, Y/N was still insecure to meet her.

“But-”

“Y/N,” he pressed. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be sitting with you the whole time.”

She groaned, defeated and having no excuse to give him. “Fine,” she mumbled.

To be precise, Sunghoon took Y/N out on their first date precisely six months prior. In those five months, the pair spent a lot of energy learning how to communicate with one another. Y/N was the shy and quiet type, the kind of person that tended to use sarcasm as a defence mechanism instead of voicing her concerns and feelings. Sunghoon, though he was quite sarcastic himself, used the mechanism as his sole form of communication, completely ignoring the fact that he was capable of having feelings pertaining to benefiting himself.

It took more than a few attempts to learn how to be comfortable with one another. If it weren’t for her pestering him to tell him about his past failed relationships, he wouldn’t be freely speaking about his family now. If it wasn’t for him arguing with her about how he wanted her to be carefree around him with her guard down, she wouldn’t even be able to laugh around him. Forget laughter, she probably wouldn’t even know how to kiss him without feeling embarrassed of the effect he had on her. Learning how to openly communicate with one another turned into learning how to ask each other for advice and depend on each other emotionally instead of accepting their individual isolation.

When Sunghoon first started to open up about his past relationships, she wasn’t expecting to hear what she did. The more stories she heard, the more she understood where his cockiness and inferiority complex stemmed from. There was a point where she thought her new boyfriend had hooked up with the entire female population of New York City with the amount of relationships he’d mentioned. But the one thing she realised after every story of past relationships he told her was that all he wanted was to settle down the way his friends and most of the population did, to start a family and marry a girl he was proud to be loved by.

Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t feel even the slightest amount of luck.

Over the span of their relationship, Sunghoon couldn’t spend her twenty-seventh birthday with her. Her parents had bought her a train ticket back home and she spent her birthday with her parents, siblings and their spouses sitting around their average sized dinner table singing the overrated birthday song while she blew out the candles on a very small chocolate cake that only she ate at the end of the night. Sunghoon had called her later in the night to wish her when she was finally not surrounded by her family and it was the very same night that she had told her parents about him. Her sister-in-laws, brother-in-laws, all her siblings and her parents were bombarding her with questions and all she could tell them was that she was smitten by him with a toothy smile.

She couldn’t spend his twenty-eighth birthday with him either. He spent his birthday weekend at Jake and Chiara’s house- the house where all the parties, dinners and get-togethers were held- with the rest of his friends and all the kids were to stay the night with a very unlucky babysitter. He got drunk on beer, his favourite activity to indulge in, and was the model of most embarrassing pictures and videos. Jay, being the most sober out of everyone, was taking care of Sunghoon like his life depended on it while the rest of the party-attendees thrashed the house which left Jake and Chiara in a gruelling position to clean up the next morning.

That night, Sunghoon had called Y/N in a bout of slurs, his face too close to the phone camera which restricted her view on his face and the circus that was falling apart behind him. She could barely hear him through the excited screams of his friends and the loud music but she was able to hear fragments of what he was saying.

“I miss you so much, y/n,” he said. “I wish you were here… I always thought you looked so pretty, you know you’re really pretty, right?”

Y/N laughed at him through the entire call and offered suitable responses. “I miss you, too,” she said. “I think you look very handsome, ‘Hoon.”

However, it was during those two incidents that Y/N realised how much Sunghoon valued his friends, so much to the point that he considered them more his family than his actual family, and Sunghoon realised how close Y/N was to her family. A conversation wouldn’t end without him bringing up his friends and her day wouldn’t start without a text from anyone member of her family. It was then that they realised they couldn’t expect each other to continue their relationship without putting in the effort to meet each other’s families, their respective powerhouses for love and personality.

“WHY THE BEACH, THOUGH?” She asked with an open smile whilst being held in the air by Sunghoon. He held her up by her thighs, her bikini cover-up barely holding onto her frame as he spun her around. She wasn’t sure how he was able to hold his balance in loose sand, waves occasionally grazing his feet, but she was squealing in amusement, throat bubbling with laughter every time he craned his neck to kiss her. Her hair blew with the wind, ruining the effort she put into styling it that morning and his newly dyed black hair covered his forehead and enhanced the brown in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he grinned. “I just wanted to see if you’d act like how your sisters described in that one story they told.”

Sunghoon let his arms slip around her waist now, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as their lips met again for probably the hundredth time that day. He wouldn't stop kissing her while she got dressed in front of her mirror, his hands exploring her stomach and lips exploring her neck. He wouldn’t stop kissing her on the car ride there, leaning towards her every time the road seemed empty or when they stopped at the red light. And he couldn’t stop kissing her when they reached the beach, hands refusing to leave her touch and holding her frame as close as he could and bruising her lips with his as often as he was allowed.

“Why so suddenly?” She asked before being pulled into another kiss, his lips devouring hers like he hadn’t kissed her in an eternity, like he wasn’t doing the same thing for the past three hours. “And what’s up with you and making out today?” She asked again, pulling away from his lips with a smack.

“Just in the mood,” he responded, chasing for another kiss through hooded eyes. She wasn’t sure which question of hers he answered to but she could only smile giddily, submitting into his lips yet again.

“Well, are you stressed or something?” She mumbled against his lips.

“Y/N,” he sighed, pulling away from her and letting her stand on her own two feet again. She blinked profusely, head tilting in confusion, toes wiggling into the familiar damp sand. “Just shut up and let me kiss you, alright?” And without letting her reply, he cupped her jaw with his hands and connected their lips again.

He was kissing her like she was his source of oxygen. He relished in the feeling of her jaw moving against his palms while she followed the movement of his lips, head tilting accordingly when he slid his tongue through the little opening in her mouth. Only he was in control at that moment and he was pecking her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip when she was gasping for air. But the moment of intimacy passed before she could register the butterflies in her stomach and he was lifting her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She erupted in laughter, legs flailing in the air as he ran into the water with a smile she could hear from a mile away.

He smiled so wide that his eyes were squinting to slits, throwing himself and her into the salty waves and emerging back up in a gasp for air. Y/N pushed her soaked hair away from her face, eyes as wide as saucers and mouth opened in shock while Sunghoon waited for a reaction- and a reaction he got. The next few minutes were filled with water being splashed in each others’ faces, their laughter louder than the group of kids visiting the beach for the first time. While she was failing on wrestling his, their fingers intertwined, he realised that this was what bliss felt like, to his girlfriend, his lover, happy and smiling and laughing like she was living the best moment in her life.

Over the next hour, Sunghoon sat beside Y/N in the sand while she built sandcastles like she was a kindergartener. Her hands built a mountain out of sand and taller towers beside the melting mountain. She would pout and whine and curse at him in laughter whenever he’d mess up her artwork and he would kiss her again, slow pecks that would eventually burn into her memory. Then he collected seashells with her which were eventually returned back to the sand and waters. When they found a dried starfish, coloured a bright magenta, she started ranting about the significance of starfish to the Aztec culture and he listened with open ears, nodding along to her words as if he would write an exam on the topic. In that hour, he could see the little girl that her sisters described her as in her, except she was wearing a bikini instead of a bucket hat and jean-shorts.

“I like seeing you like this,” he said, holding her hand in a moment of serenity, walking across the beach with their shoes clutched in their empty hands.

“Like what?” She asked, unable to put aside her smile.

“Happy.”

“You say that like you’ve never seen me happy before, ‘Hoon,” she chuckled and shook her head. “You brought me here because of the story my sisters told you, right?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “You had this juvenile happiness about you. I love when you’re like this.”

Y/N squeezed his hand and made him turn towards her. He had a look of satisfaction in his eyes, bangs covering his brows. His lips twitched into a miniscule smile, one that she almost missed if she didn’t squint enough. The wind blew his shirt against his skin, an icky dampness he ignored suddenly made aware. “Thank you,” she said, pursing her lips to hide a thankful smile. “I loved today.”

Sunghoon kissed her forehead and led her to his car. He didn’t want to admit to her that the reason for his increased physical affection, constantly kissing her and touching her, was truly because he was stressed. He was stressed about introducing her to his friends during dinner in a few hours- he could only imagine the amount of anxiety she was dealing with and hoped that a day at the beach would perhaps help her into a positive mood. It wasn’t that he was questioning their relationship or personality all of a sudden, no that wasn’t it. It was the fact that he knew her well enough that her awkwardness around new people often led them to perceive her with a negative first impression. She wasn’t great at starting conversation and in all honesty, Sunghoon was no good at helping people involve themselves into conversation. That was Rose’s speciality, not his. Sunghoon was rather the type to laugh at jokes and comment on whatever stupid statement his friends made. The more he thought about it, the more he realised he couldn’t rely on himself to help Y/N ease herself into whatever conversation would take place during.

When he panicked to Chiara about his nerves, she assured him that she would be there to help her feel welcomed. She reminded him that his friends weren’t the type of people to isolate someone new, especially if it was someone Sunghoon said was special to him. “Even I wasn’t this nervous when I introduced Chiara to you guys,” Jake had said to him. “It’ll be fine. You know that.” So, he played out the scenarios in his head on how dinner would go; he imagined Jay bonding with Y/N over his random knowledge in history and he imagined Y/N sipping on wine with Chiara, Karina and Jade at the end of the night. He imagined Jake and Heeseung telling her about all his embarrassing stories and her laughing at them with no filter and he imagined her playing with all the kids- his nieces and nephews.

In his head, it was the perfect dinner, exactly the way he’d want his lover to fit into his found-family and as he looked at Y/N covering herself with a towel and drying her hair with her fingers raking her scalp, he knew that everything would go just the way he imagined.

“There’s a motel nearby, we can freshen up there,” he offered softly, stretching his arms to grab ahold of her hips and pull her closer towards him.

“What’ve you got planned for the day, hmm?” She teased. “I haven’t seen you this enthusiastic since you took me ice skating.”

He grinned, softly pecking her lips and digging his nails deeper into her hips. She chewed the inside of her cheek, smirking and nodding in understanding. Her fists rested on his chest, knees on the verge of buckling from his gaze alone. “After that, I thought maybe we could go to a bookstore or a movie. Anything you want, really.”

“That sounds really good,” she hummed. Her eyes hooded, scanning his face from his eyes, the mole on his nose and to his lips. “I think I prefer your natural hair better, by the way,” she smiled as she kissed him and he teased her with a hum, fingers drumming on her lower back.

The time leading up to dinner felt like floating through a dream. He remembered showering with her and helping her pick out a pretty dress to wear while she styled her hair in the shabby bathroom of the motel. He also remembered spending way too many hours in the nearest bookstore where he felt like a ghost following her around with shallow eyes. While she carried around a pile of non-fiction books and archives, softly explaining to him a snippet of history but nothing was registering in his head. He just remembered standing behind her with wide eyes and pursed lips, almost resembling a robot, imagining everything that could possibly go wrong at dinner; at dinner at his best friend’s house with the rest of the people he grew up around; at dinner with the people he called his family that saw him bring multiple other women to similar dinners.

He was just overthinking, right?

Yeah, he was. While driving, it was usually Sunghoon that had his free hand on her thigh but the roles were switched this time when Y/N saw his hands trembling. He looked like a lost puppy with those terrified eyes locked on the road in front of him.

“Sunghoon?” She called. “Park Sunghoon?”

He was so stressed, Sunghoon could feel the nerves in his jaw firing up before he opened his mouth to say, “yeah?”

“What’s on your mind?”

“What do you mean?” There was a laugh that escaped from his throat, hoarse and forced that almost made her flinch. “I’m fine,” his voice even went a few pitches higher.

“Honey, you’re not fine,” she insisted and moved to hold his hand that gripped the gear like his life depended on it. “It's dinner, isn’t it?”

The hesitation he showed before nodding his head was enough of an answer for her.

“Why’s it bothering you?”

He sucked in a breath and cautiously glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. “Well, you see,” he started. “They’re my friends.”

“I… know that,” she blinked profusely, confused.

“And they’ve seen me with tons of other girls,” he tried clarifying.

“How about you tell me something you don’t know,” she suggested, giving up on understanding his worries.

The first time Y/N saw him so stressed and nervous was when he was meeting her sisters. This would be the second time. He was trembling at the thought of his two worlds meeting, terrified that perhaps, like Riki had said, this relationship could end up like all others. But he was never scared to introduce his past girlfriends to them, never questioning whether it would end badly. What made Y/N different? Or has it just been a long time?

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I don’t know why I’m stressed. I think I’m just paranoid.”

“You and me both,” she gave his hand a few pats and pursed her lips to the side. “I’m meeting the people you call family which is a pretty big deal and from what you’ve told me, they’re all some sort of rich and famous. I mean, models, photographers, producers, writers, businessmen, dancers… It's intimidating.”

“We’re kind of all impressive aren’t we?” For the first time in hours, he cracked a smile; a smirk that made her chuckle. She nudged his arm and he chuckled with her, most of their worries draining away in that moment of glee.

“You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

When Sunghoon parked the car in the parking lot of Jake and Chiara’s apartment, Y/N stayed stuck to the seat for exactly ten seconds. She was convinced that time had frozen for her to collect her thoughts and catch her breath. The nerves that left Sunghoon had somehow manifested in her. Suddenly, the clothes she wore felt too either too fancy or too simple and she was convinced her hair was a mess. Then, she realised she had forgotten how to conversate with new people, let alone a group of eleven adults and four children who barely had the ability to speak.

Perhaps she was too awkward for this. It’s not too late to bail, she thought.

Sunghoon had to shake her shoulders to snap her back to reality- the reality in which she wasn’t in her apartment eating cereal with her dog on the couch- and guided her to the elevator with his hand on the small of her back. She was the one acting like a robot now, her body a machine programmed to walk step by step, her eyes unmoving from whatever object was in front of her as though it would relieve the anxiousness that made her heart beat like it was about to jump out of her chest. She could hear her blood thumping against her ears, almost deafening her from Sunghoon’s voice calling out for her.

They were now standing in front of Jake and Chiara’s front door with a dozen pairs of shoes beside them.

They were all there.

“You ready?” He asked, lips curling into a hopeful smile. Her eyes followed the bead of sweat that rolled down the side of his face.

She shook her head. “We’re both scared,” she stated. “I will literally let you do whatever you want the next time we have sex if we bail from dinner.”

Sunghoon laughed at her statement, his hand reaching for her shoulder as he threw his head back. She looked at him as though she took her statement seriously and he shook his head. “Y/N,” he chuckled. “You’ll be fine. Being nervous is natural in such situations. It’ll really be fine.”

“You sound like you’re convincing yourself.”

Chuckling again, he shook his head and moved to hold her waist. “You know what’ll make both of us feel better?” He said and nodded his chin. Smiling, he kissed her like he kissed her on the beach, the dull lights that lit the apartment flickering above them as he pulled her closer. Y/N visibly loosened in his arms, the tense in her shoulders disappearing as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She focused on the fact that he was wearing her favourite shirt, a dark brown button down with black trousers- it was the outfit he wore on their first date, except his hair was dark now.

Then, she felt a little more confident.

He rang the doorbell after a few more brief pecks to her lips and moments later, Chiara opened the door. Y/N didn’t need for Sunghoon to introduce her- though he did anyway- because he had spent an hour showing her pictures of everyone so she could learn their names or she already knew them because they were famous.

The next few moments passed like a phantasm. Chiara was hugging her and dragging her through her richly furnished and exquisitely designed apartment and into the kitchen, where the dining table where ten other adults and four kids sat. Sunghoon followed them with slow footsteps, hands in his pockets as he watched his friends holler at the sight of Y/N and her awkwardly wave back with a messily stretched smile. When he saw Chiara pushing her towards Jake and Jay who were waving her towards the, Heeseung and Karina offering her drinks and Sunoo complimenting her outfit, he questioned why he wasted so much energy in worrying because the sight in front of him was perfect, like watching the happy ending of a cliché family movie.

“Why’s everyone so excited?” Sunghoon grinned while sauntering towards them. “All because of my girl, ay?” He could see Y/N blushing and Chiara teasing her by wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

“Sunghoon!” Jake yelled, lifting his glass of wine towards him. “How about you stop getting cocky and sit your ass down, ay?” Everyone laughed, offering their greetings to him.

“Behave tonight, don’t be the little shit you always are,” Heeseung pulled at Riki’s ear and he complained of being treated like a kid.

Y/N eventually ended up sitting between Sunghoon and Chiara- who had Kai with her- because at that point, they were the only people she felt remotely comfortable around. Chiara, though it was her first time meeting her, was already indulging her in pleasant conversation, pointing at each person on the table and giving her a brief description of their personality, oblivious to the fact that it was all known information already.

“Sunoo and Sheila are engaged,” Chiara said.

“Oh, yeah, when’s the wed-”

“Don’t ask them about it… they haven’t decided yet,” she slowly shook her head the way scared characters from horror movies did. “Jungwon and Eva are engaged, too.”

“Oh, the wedding’s probably in a month or two, by the way,” Jungwon lifted his head at the mention of his wedding and Heeseung dabbed him up with pride.

It felt like she was pulled into a whirlwind with the amount of conversations happening around her. Sunghoon and Chiara were keeping her company while Jade would chime in from time to time. Jungwon’s girlfriend, Eva, would start a conversation with her by offering her food and Riki had somehow wiggled his way into the conversation and offered brief phrases of acknowledgement as contribution. Then, Jay had called for her from the end of the table and started asking about her profession, claiming that he himself had an inclination towards history. For a little while, she had told him the brief of what she knew about Chinese history and offered to lend him some of her books pertaining to his interests.

Heeseung pointed to his daughters that sat between him and his wife, introducing them to Y/N as Luna and Sol and she recognised their names originating from Roman mythology. Karina encouraged her to elaborate and she went on a tangent about the stories behind the twins’ beautiful names. Eventually, the pair went on to tell her how they met, describing a romantic story between a music producer and a singer.

“Chiara, tell her how you and Jake met,” Heeseung nodded.

“Are we all gonna go around the table telling her our love stories?”

“Sounds about right,” Sunghoon clapped.

The story of Chiara and Jake was something out of a Netflix rom-com. She had heard it briefly from Sunghoon before and saw quite a few clips of them speaking about it on the internet, but to have them sitting with her on the dinner table, narrating their past with intricate detail, was something she didn’t know she needed. Watching the love between them thriving after so many years was what brought Sunghoon hope for his own love, the way they smiled at each other still seemed to bring some sort of warmth in everyone’s hearts.

Their love story was what made way for Sunoo and Sheila, who was Chiara’s best friend. They had met on a dinner similar to such, back when they were all mostly single and were still struggling to graduate or make a successful career. They claimed it was love at first sight, that Chiara had fallen in love with Sunoo’s smile and that he had fallen in love with the twinkle in her eyes. They started dating not long after they met, their personalities matching to the tea.

Though Jay and Jade started dating around the same time as Heeseung and Karina, they married much later. They were childhood friends and in fact, he was in the hospital the day she was born. They watched each other grow up because their families were close but the pair only became friends around the time Jay started taking over his father’s travel company. What started as a no-strings-attached relationship blossomed into family. However, Riki made fun of them and said they only got married because he knocked her up, to which Jay closed Evelyn’s ears with his hands and cursed at his youngest friend to never say such things around his daughter.

“What did I say about not acting like a little shit?” Heeseung warned with a finger pointing at the youngest amongst them.

Finally came Jungwon and Eva’s love story with Riki being a major reason for their engagement. The two didn’t even get along at first, always bickering when they were around each other and shooting each other death glares until Riki finally put them in a room together and forced them to put their differences aside. Turns out, they not only put their differences aside but also their clothes and now the three lived together and Riki was helping them plan their wedding. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the best man, but Jay was, because a few years prior, everyone had drawn chits to decide who would be the best man at whose wedding and Riki drew Sunghoon’s name. It was very unfortunate.

“Why didn’t you bring your girl, Riki?” Sunghoon asked.

“Oh, no,” the boy shook his head, moving his stare to the condiments left on his plate. “I broke up with her a week ago.”

There was no silence that followed his statement but a groan from Heeseung who slumped in his seat. “You owe me fifty bucks!” Jay yelled from across him. “I told you this would happen.”

Riki rolled his eyes and turned to Y/N with an unamused stare. “Don’t be alarmed, they do this a lot.”

“He’s known as the heartbreaker amongst us,” Jake firmly clapped Riki’s shoulder twice and turned to make fun of Heeseung.

“How about Y/N tells us how she felt when she first met Sunghoon, huh?” Heeseung attempted to shift the conversation and everyone was turning towards her, including her boyfriend, with grins and smirks she couldn’t escape from.

The night continued with such conversations.

Sunoo and Sheila left early like they always did and it was around that time that all the kids went to sleep and the hard liquor started coming out of the closets to be consumed. Chiara, Jungwon and Jade joined the kids to sleep as they weren’t huge fans of alcohol and everyone else had cleared the dinner table and filled it with cans of beer, bottles of vodka and glasses of whiskey, along with peanuts and kimchi. The golden lights that set the homely aura around the apartment were dimmed to blue lights, much like the lights that Sunghoon used to bring up everytime he talked about the many exclusive parties of New York he had attended.

Jake and Chiara’s apartment was one to ogle over. Their furniture came from the expensive catalogues Y/N had stashed in her drawers and their balconies reminded her of the ones she saw on romantic European contemporary films. They had books unlike the ones she had at home, the kind that literature geeks would drool over- they were Chiara’s collection, she supposed. They had rarely decorated hardcover copies of all the classics and a few crime novels scattered here and there. Y/N observed the pictures that hung around their television while sipping on wine on the couch while everyone else opted to chug beer.

“Y/N, come join us!” Jake bellowed from the kitchen with a can of beer raised in the hair. Karina followed his lead and raised a bottle of vodka.

Before she could answer, Sunghoon had answered for her and told them that she wasn’t much of a drinker. The crowd whined in defeat but soon went back to whatever they were doing- she wasn’t sure where the awful lot of loud sound was coming from but they were definitely yelling and hollering at each other.

She could hear something about daring Sunghoon to stay sober the whole night but that would be like expecting pharaohs to never leave curses before passing away.

The sane and sober minds that Y/N was so intimidated by just a few hours ago were either talking and stumbling across the apartment in incoherent babbles or were taking care of the people who were incoherently babbling. Y/N was laughing at whatever mumble that was sent her way and even entertained Jade who sat beside her and started complaining about her colleagues whose lives were boring because of the word load her father pushed on them. Jay eventually dragged her away and apologised to Y/N, telling her to enjoy the rest of the night and no not mind everyone else.

“We’re making a terrible first impression but we aren’t usually like this.”

Her wine bottle eventually became empty and she simply sat there on the couch, watching her boyfriend hang off Heeseung’s arm who was equally as drunk. Riki had pulled himself away from the group, throwing his empty can of beer in the trash before making his way to Y/N. He almost looked shy, tense shoulders pulling together the closer he got to her and he ended up standing in front of her, his gaze spaced out and lips opening and closing to contemplate what exactly he wanted to say. Y/N was only a little woozy from the wine and she cleared her throat as it got awkward with the silence between them.

“Do you smoke?” The boy eventually asked, pulling out a box of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans.

“I do, actually,” she smiled softly, attempting to ease the boy’s nerves.

The pair moved to the balcony, arms leaning against the railings as freshly lip cigarettes hung from their lips, index and middle finger holding it in place. It was a habit Riki was embarrassed about after developing late into high school. The group of friends he made in school after moving to New York City could be labelled as the wrong crowd and of all the narcotics and alcohol he tried, cigarettes were the only thing that stuck. It wasn’t an addiction but if he didn’t smoke for a prolonged amount of time, he would face miniscule symptoms of withdrawal. Chiara, being their resident psychologist, had warned him of the physical and mental repercussions he could face and for some time, his friends had even forced him to use nicotine patches. Over time, he learned how to control his smoking. He was just grateful he didn’t end up a crack-addict like his cousin back in Osaka.

Y/N however, didn’t have much of a care of the stigma that surrounded tobacco and cigarettes. I, too, had started in high school when her best friend at the time introduced her to the cylindrical contraption. The practice would follow her into her adulthood and here she was, on a balcony with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She didn’t smoke that often, just in social settings, much like this one.

“Sunghoon knows you smoke, right?” He perked up, turning his gaze towards her.

“Yeah, of course,” she grinned, shrugging her shoulders. “Why?”

“He has this thing against smoking,” Riki shook his head. “Everyone’s against it, but he loses it when someone smokes around him.”

“Yeah, I know,” Y/N mused. “On our third date or something, I told him I wanted to go out for a smoke and he freaked. Never brought it up around him again.”

When Riki laughed, Y/N felt a wave of validation. This was Nishimura Riki she was smoking with, the boy that disapproved of her being with Sunghoon not a few months ago. Despite the fact that everyone past the glass screen separating the balcony from the living room had given her their thumbs of approval, already making her feel a part of their group by offering her drinks, Riki standing there and laughing at her jokes was the biggest form of approval she could ask for. For the first time all night, she felt all relief from the stress she had harboured in her chest.

“When he found out I started smoking, he didn’t talk to me for three days straight,” Riki added. “I was like seventeen at the time, it came as quite a shock to everyone,” he shrugged.

“I was seventeen, too,” she mused. “I’m, like, twenty-seven now and my parents still don’t know.”

“If my parents found out, they would kill me,” he rolled his eyes. “You know, Jay still threatens to tell my parents about it if I annoy them?”

“They still treat you like a child, huh?”

“The price I have to pay for being the youngest.” “Yeah, I’m the youngest one out of all my siblings and they still think I’m in middle school.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Seven.”

Riki gave her a look of surprise, his jaw dropping for his mouth and his fist reaching towards his mouth for him to bite. Y/N nodded knowingly, silently telling him that she knew the pain. The pair ashed their cigarettes off the balcony and revelled in the number of similarities they had.

Before either of them could start a new conversation or continue the previous, the glass doors to the balcony had slid open and Sunghoon stumbled open with probably his twelfth can of beer wrapped in his palm. His cheeks were a soft shade of pink and his eyes disappeared behind his eyelids due to the genial smile on his face. His arms stretched widely as he came closer to approaching them and eventually collapsed on their shoulders.

If there was anything Y/N knew about her boyfriend, it was that he loved being drunk. It was the first thing that would be listed if anyone was to ever write his biography. Sunghoon had a habit of denying this habit of his but there came a point of acceptance when literally everyone around him started pointing it out. During dinner, she was lucky to be serenaded with his most embarrassing drunk-anecdotes, as Chiara liked to call it. Her favourite was the one where he woke up beside Heeseung in a hotel all the way on the other side of town with a basket of brownies placed between them and a note that read thank you for being amazing people. To this day, nobody knew what happened- it was the biggest mystery amongst their friend group. They ended up eating all the brownies and spared none for the others.

“What are you two talking about?” Sunghoon giggled as he looked between Riki and Y/N. “You better not be nice to her, Riki. She’s technically your Noona.”

Riki snatched the can of beer away from Sunghoon and contorted his face into a look of disinterest. “Y/N and I are almost the same age,” he argued.

“You still call Jungwon Hyung, right?” Sunghoon let go of Y/N and moved to wrap his arms around Riki. Struggling, the boy brought the can of beer to his lips.

“Yeah, so?”

“Y/N is your Noona,” he jabbed a finger into his chest with a wide grin. “She may even be your Hyung-su soon.”

Riki let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head and pushing Sunghoon off of his back. The boy then smirked at Y/N, chugging down the rest of the beer left in the can. “Calm down, big boy,” Riki slapped his back and he moved to wrap his arms around Y/N. “I’m gonna go.”

While the boy slid the glass door of the balcony close, Y/N hung her hand on the arm that wrapped around her shoulders. “What does all that mean?” She smiled, oblivious. “Nothing,” Sunghoon giggled, kissing her forehead. “You’ve seen me drunk so many times,” he pointed out.

“It’s kind of your favourite hobby, ‘Hoon,” she pointed out.

“But I’ve never seen you drunk.”

SUNGHOON WOULD SEE Y/N drunk exactly one and a half months later at Jungwon and Eva’s wedding reception.

The events leading up to the reception were all smooth- there was the plane ride to the avenue, the part where the bride and groom were getting ready and then the meticulously planned wedding ceremony. It was all beautiful and heartwarming and Jay’s toast was tear-jerking. However, Sunghoon saw no need in replaying those events in his head when his girlfriend was drunk and hanging off his arm.

It was the most comical sight he’d ever witnessed.

You see, of all the morals and rules of self-control Sunghoon had waived upon himself over the years, not drinking during weddings was one of them and he held himself proud to the condition. Everyone, including Chiara, who was famed for her distaste towards liquor, was drinking that day and it would explain the mess that the banquet halls ended up in shambles. The flower bouquets were crumpled to pulp, the pristine white curtains around them torn to shreds and the delicious wedding cake looked like it was devoured by a wolf.

In the midst of it all, Y/N had downed four too many glasses and champagne and she was bubblier than a school girl. At first, Sunghoon simply thought that she was giddy from catching the bouquet Eva had thrown over her head but boy did he have a hard time bringing her back to their hotel room. In many ways, she and him were the same type of drunk. Granted, Sunghoon had a habit of crying if he ever was sad before drinking, but apart from that, they were pretty much the same. Both of them stumbled on their feet while trying to walk in a straight line, both giggled like they were being tickled and both spewed absolute nonsense while drunk. It was like looking at himself in a mirror- except she was a girl, his girlfriend to be precise.

“You’re really pretty,” Y/N giggled at him, her index finger gliding down the side of cheek as though she was flirting with him.

Flattered, Sunghoon offered her a toothy grin and wrapped his arm tighter around her waist. Her arm hung around his shoulders, her heels clutched by her free hand. “Thank you, Jagi,” he said. “But we really need to get you back to the room. You need a change of clothes and some sleep.”

“But I don’t want to sleep,” she pouted, her brows pulling together and bottom lip jutting out. The sight made him want to laugh- if she were sober, she would shoot herself before making such a face voluntarily.

“But you have to,” Sunghoon’s grin widened as he eventually got to the door of their room.

He was carrying her at that point, one arm under her head and the other under her knees. Her arms secured around his neck, her heels poking his ear. While she brightly smiled at him, he laid her on the bed.

“Don’t move, I’ll get changed and be right there with you.”

“No, don’t change! You look so hot in a suit,” she whined and caught his tie in her hand. She tugged him towards her and chased him for a kiss.

Though he enjoyed the action, he found himself pushing her back onto the pillow. He brushed away the hair that framed her face and cupped her cheek “Jagi,” he crooned. “You’re really drunk and you need some rest.”

“No, I need you,” she continued to whine, pointing her finger at him. “Just stay with me.”

“I am with you,” he smiled at her.

He finally understood what it felt like to be Jay when he was taking care of him.

“Good,” she said and pulled him in for another kiss.

He surrendered, letting her drag him on top of her until the span of his chest lay against hers. His legs lounged on the bed, his leather shoes kicked into one of the corners of the room. His hand cupped the side of her face and she gripped his collor until she couldn’t physically hold him closer anymore- but the moment was as fleeting as most were and her lips parted from his with an epiphany.

“Where’s the bouquet I caught?” She asked in a frenzy, looking around the room.

“Jagi, it’ll be somewhere downstairs, don’t worry,” he reached for her hand and propped himself on his elbows. His eyes followed her every move but he was quick to keep her beside him, refusing to let her leave the bed. “You need sleep, Y/N.”

“Can we go get it?”

Sunghoon chuckled. “You didn’t even want to catch the bouquet, it literally hit you in the head,” he argued. “If you want, I’ll buy a hundred more bouquets later.”

Y/N blinked at him, her eyes glazing over from her lack of sleep. “But I caught it,” she mumbled.

“I know, Jagi, and I’m very glad you did.”

“Doesn’t it mean we might get married or something?” If she could hear herself while sober, Y/N would probably slap herself. With that thought in mind, Sunghoon shut her up from speaking anymore words with another kiss on her lips. “Can you please sleep for me, Jagi?” He hummed. “Please?”

“Why do you keep calling me Jagi?” She asked while he cupped her head, leading her to lay on the pillow again. The span of her hand stayed on his chest, keeping him in place.

“It just means I love you very much, Jagi,” he smiled and she smiled back, fluttering her eyes shut.

“Ok,” she nodded her cheek against the pillow. “I like it.”

“I know,” he said. “Why didn’t you come into my life sooner, Jagi? Where have you been?”

“What?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper as she drifted into slumber.

“Just sleep.”

183 notes · View notes

cutehoons02 · 3 days ago

Text

🍬👿

My lollipop boy

*pairing: pervy bunny hybrid Sunghoon x popular girl

*trope: grumpy x sunshine

*synopsis: You and Sunghoon were not given the label of "girlfriend" and "boyfriend" so with him things were between a fork of toothpicks and cold live but passion and games in private. But what would happen when a rabbit hybrid gets its furrow and animal heat? For Sunghoon you were his cure but also his weakness with the arrival of heat was afraid to show his true animal nature and wanted at all costs to get away from you but would you be able to get away from him?

My lollipop girl <- I recommend that you read Part 1.

*tags: A lot of tension, Hoon is a rabbit hybrid and will have his own heat groove, dirty talk, degradation, jealousy, masturbation (m.f) unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl)node, Hoon is cynical but then will become sensitive, misunderstanding, smut, sulk, statement? happy ending, pet names (princess, slut) (good boy,hoon,hoonie,bunny) +18

12.2K🐇

(English is not my native language)

You walked into the economics classroom with your usual confidence, the short skirt brushing against your thighs, the sheer stockings, and the cardigan a little too tight, revealing your curves. The orange lollipop twirled between your lips, but it wasn’t the same. Someone kept stealing your beloved strawberry and cream lollipops, and you had a strong suspicion about who the culprit might be.

Your eyes immediately found Sunghoon, relaxed as always, sitting in the third row by the window. Your Sunghoon? Since that night of "studying" in your room, filled with economics exercises and much more physical practice, things had changed between you two. But there had been no declaration, no labels. You wanted him, clear and simple. But him? You weren’t sure.

You approached his desk with your usual bold smile and sat next to him, tilting your head. "No comment today? Did you suddenly become shy?"

Sunghoon sighed, not even turning to look at you. "Maybe I’m just trying to ignore you."

You spun the lollipop stick between your fingers. "Oh, so now you’re ignoring me? Strange, I thought you liked having my attention... or rather, having me all over you."

His ears twitched slightly, a sign you hit the right spot. Finally, he looked at you, his dark eyes filled with annoyance... or maybe something else. "You’re unbearable."

"And you aren't good at lying," you retorted, bringing the lollipop to your lips with exasperating slowness. "Too bad I know exactly how much you like me."

Sunghoon stiffened for a moment, then leaned slightly toward you, lowering his voice into a sharp whisper. "You know what I like? Silence. You should try being quiet for once."

Your smile widened. "Oh, but didn’t you like my mouth when it screamed your name or moaned while you sucked me or tied me to you?"

"Tsk." Sunghoon quickly turned away, his eyes fixed on the board as the professor walked in, momentarily interrupting your game. But you had already won: the slight redness in his ears told you everything you needed to know. Sunghoon was obsessed with you, and you with him.

After another hour of explanations and exercises, you stuffed your notes into your backpack with a sigh, cracking your tired fingers. The orange lollipop hung lazily between your lips as you took one last look at your page. Just one wrong exercise. Not bad. You stole a glance at Sunghoon, but he was still bent over his notebook, his pencil gliding over the paper with almost irritating precision. The sunset light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow on his dark hair. He was so immersed in his world, focused on writing formulas with his usual impassive expression. He hadn’t even noticed you were ready to leave. You shook your head with an amused smile. How much of a nerd can he be? You turned towards the door, ready to leave, when the professor's voice echoed in the room.

The professor entered the classroom, tapping the register a couple of times on the desk to get everyone's attention.

-In a few days, there will be the midterm exam,- he announced, scanning the students with his gaze. -I expect a lot from you. Over the weekend, I’ll send you some practice exams to complete, even in pairs, to help you prepare.-

As he spoke, you slightly turned your head, the orange lollipop sliding between your lips as you watched Sunghoon. He gripped the pencil between his fingers with an almost too-tight hold, but his face seemed impassive and focused as he listened to the professor.

And that was exactly what bothered you. The way he seemed perfectly capable of paying attention to others, of interacting normally with anyone except you. With you, though, in public, he appeared distant, almost cold, and he loved teasing you or driving you crazy with just a look. The thought that maybe he was embarrassed by you drove you mad. Or that he was afraid of showing any kind of feelings towards you. Yet, you knew it wasn’t like that when you were alone.

When his claws planted themselves on your skin with desire, when his tongue explored every inch of your body with greed when he sucked your skin to claim you from the smell that the other hybrids felt when he reversed his seed into your poor pussy.

So what was holding him back?

You drove away the thought and we focused on the exercises. When you finished, you had only one in four wrong. Not bad, maybe Sunghoon was not so bad as a tutor...

The professor walked past your desk and bent down slightly to check on your work. -Here,- he pointed to the spot where you had made a mistake, with a barely hinted smile.

Sunghoon turned slightly to listen, but his eyes didn’t stay fixed on the exercise.

He saw, he saw the professor’s gaze that never left your body, he saw how his eyes lingered on the curve of your chest, accentuated by the tight cardigan. How they slid down your legs, covered only by the thin, sheer stockings. How they stopped on your face, lingering on your lips, slightly swollen and tinted with the sugary gloss from your ever-present lollipop.

And his mind inevitably went back to a few nights ago.

When that face was pressed between his thighs, your lips were swollen with pleasure as you moaned his name, while he sucked and pumped his long fingers into you. When your tongue, which had been playing with the lollipop, traced sinful lines along his stomach. A strange unease twisted in his stomach.

-If you’d like, you can stop by my office this weekend,- the professor said, with a smile that was just a little too polite. -Many students do it to improve. I could help you prepare for the exam.-

You looked up, surprised by the offer, while Sunghoon felt his rabbit-like ears twitch slightly from irritation. His instincts screamed. That bastard was staring at you too much.

Without paying him much mind, you smiled politely. “Oh, thank you, professor, I’ll think about it.” -Do,- he replied.

-I might have some useful advice for you.-

Sunghoon gripped his pencil harder, feeling a slight crack in the wood as it splintered. He could tell with just one look when someone wanted something, and that man didn’t just want to teach you economics; he wanted to touch you, possess you—and that didn’t sit well with Sunghoon, because the only man who could touch you, kiss you, possess you, mark you, and tie you up was him.

You, of course, noticed his reaction and didn’t miss the chance to tease him. You leaned slightly toward him, your warm breath brushing against his skin.

“Oh? Is someone jealous?” you whispered with a mischievous smile. Sunghoon shot you a cold glance.

“Stop talking nonsense.” His voice was low, tense. But you knew. You knew very well that behind that impassive facade, his hybrid instincts were writhing. It was taunting him. Telling him someone else was trying to invade his territory, and you loved it.

-Y/n.- You stopped abruptly, turning just slightly. The professor was still seated at his desk, an overly smug smile on his lips. He motioned for you to come closer. With a shrug, you walked over slowly, swaying your hips just a bit. The professor’s gaze followed every movement, lingering a little too much on your legs. Sunghoon, who was about to turn the page, felt a shiver run down his spine. His bunny ears perked up imperceptibly. He didn’t need to hear the conversation to understand what was happening. -So, have you thought about my proposal?- the professor asked in a tone that was a bit too relaxed. -Private lessons would be really helpful for you. You could come to my office this weekend. You know, many students do it to improve.-

Sunghoon felt something tighten inside him. Is that bastard really trying? The pencil he was holding cracked under the pressure of his fingers. His hybrid instincts hit him like a hot blade in the stomach. He already knew what you were about to do. You were about to accept, just to make him jealous. Just to see how far you could push it before he exploded. And damn, it always worked. He shot up from his seat, determined to leave the classroom and ignore the scene, trying to suppress the animalistic part of him telling him to wipe that smug smile off the professor’s face. But then he felt a warm touch on his skin. Your hand. You grabbed his arm, your fingers tightening around his wrist in a firm grip. "Thanks, professor," you said with an almost innocent smile. "But I already have an excellent tutor as a study partner." The professor raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharpening. -Oh, really? Who’s that?- You didn’t look away, and Sunghoon felt your warmth spread along his arm as you gently pulled him toward you. "Him." The silence that fell in the classroom was almost deafening. Sunghoon froze, his mouth slightly agape in shock. Wait… what? His eyes turned to you, searching for any hint of teasing, but all he found was your usual cheeky grin. The professor stared at you for a few seconds, then turned his gaze to Sunghoon, as if sizing him up. -Him, huh?- Sunghoon clenched his jaw, feeling a sudden wave of pride mixed with frustration. Damn, this girl… She didn’t let anyone walk all over her. She didn’t need him to push the professor away, but she still dragged him into it. And not only that. She’d said he was the one who helped her understand the exercises. She’d said it was thanks to him that she was improving, and that feeling inside him—that strange, warm, irritating feeling—hit him all of a sudden.

Y/n was his? His tail shifted restlessly behind him, while his cheeks heated up slightly. No. Wait. They weren’t together. They’d never put a label on what was between them, yet the thought of someone else getting their hands on you made his jaw tighten. You were looking at him with a triumphant grin as if you’d just won a silent battle. Sunghoon sighed, looking away. "Do whatever you want," he muttered, but you didn’t miss the way the blush on his cheeks had become more noticeable. And you loved it.

As you left the classroom, Sunghoon walked ahead of you with his usual quick, determined pace. His long legs allowed him to put distance between you effortlessly, as if he were trying to escape from something… or someone. You bit your lip, watching his tail. It wouldn’t stop wagging. A nervous tic that betrayed his usual impassive demeanor. That little detail made you smile.

You quickened your pace, trying to catch up. "Hoon." No response. "Hoonie," you sing-songed in a sweeter tone, amused by the way his shoulders tensed. You were driving him crazy, and you knew it. "Are you jealous, by any chance?" you asked with feigned innocence, tilting your head.

He suddenly stopped, and you didn’t have time to slow down, bumping lightly into his chest. The scent of his skin, mixed with something more wild and instinctual, immediately enveloped you. The tension in his body was palpable. His bunny ears trembled, his jaw clenched.

"I’m losing my mind." His voice was low, rough. You looked up at him, batting your lashes with an innocent expression. "Because of the exam?" Sunghoon let out a quiet huff, as if he were struggling with himself.

Then, without a word, he grabbed your wrist. His touch was burning, his palm wrapping around your skin in a firm grip.

"Hoon, where are you taking me?" you giggled, but he kept walking, ignoring your playful tone.

He dragged you through the empty hallways, the last rays of sunset filtering through the windows. Every step he took was heavy, every breath deeper, more controlled. But he wouldn’t hold back for long.

He turned a corner and pushed open a door, pulling you into an empty classroom. Only a few streaks of sunlight illuminated the space, casting golden shadows on the floor. Sunghoon shut the door behind him with a sharp thud.

"Sit down."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So bossy today…" He didn’t reply. Running a hand through his hair, he messed it up, looking like a caged predator. His ears twitched nervously, and his tail flicked the air in slow, agitated swipes.

You smiled. Leaning your elbows on the table, you watched him with amusement, letting the lollipop slide lazily between your lips. "If you wanted to be alone with me, you could’ve just asked, you know?"

Sunghoon froze. His dark eyes locked onto yours, nostrils flaring slightly. Three steps, and he was right in front of you. His large hands cupped your face with a firmness that made you hold your breath. He forced you to look at him. His pupils were blown wide, his breathing heavier.

"I can’t take it anymore." His voice was deeper, more animalistic. His nails barely grazed your skin, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. He was fighting his instincts, battling something restless inside him.

"First, it was just the guys at school, and that already drove me insane. But now, forty-year-olds too?" His tail flicked again.

"You think it’s funny to provoke me like this?" he hissed, his lips almost brushing yours as he spoke. You smiled, running your thumbs over his knuckles. "It’s cute seeing you jealous, you know?"

Sunghoon let out a low growl, his ears flattening back. His whole body vibrated with tension. He was giving you control, even though he didn’t want to and you knew it.

"Hoon," you whispered softly, your fingers gliding down to his wrist, squeezing just slightly. "Do you need a reminder of who I belong to?"

He held his breath. His eyes darkened with something deeper, something raw. He swallowed hard, his body instinctively moving even closer to yours. Then, he nodded, his tail wagged faster. You smirked. "Good answer."

The tension in the air was dense, charged with something primordial. Sunghoon was stiff in your hands, his breathing quickened as his fingers traced paths under your cardigan, touching you with a delicacy that contrasted with his firm grip on your thighs. But you weren't going to let him take control. You lured him to you, resting his lips on his, kissing him with the confidence of those who knew exactly what he wanted. Sunghoon grunted between the kiss, his tongue explored yours with growing hunger. "Open your legs," he whispered against your lips, his voice hoarse and authoritarian.

A shudder ran through your back, but not for the command—for the idea of completely turning the situation around. And yet, you indulged him. You opened up for him, giving him the place between your legs as you continued to kiss each other, savoring each other with slowness and despair at the same time. His lips moved along your jaw, sucking and licking fervently, then went down to your neck. The warmth of his mouth made you moan softly, and his grip on your thighs tightened. He was too sure of himself it was time to put him back in his place. You smiled between a heavy breath and, with a firm gesture, you took off his sweatshirt, then his shirt.

His chest twitched when your fingers slid over his candid skin, the contrast with the dark shadows of the sunset made him almost ethereal. You kissed him slowly, walking along the line of his sternum with your tongue. "You are beautiful, Hoonie," you whispered against his skin, feeling his abdomen quivering under your lips. Sunghoon clenched his teeth, but could not hold back a gasp when your hands stroked his hips. "Oh? Did I just hear you stutter?" you looked up, the mischievous smile that you knew him all too well painted on your lips. Redness spread to the cheeks, the ears bent back. "Shut up." You laughed softly, running a finger along his chest, tracing lazy circles around his nipples. "Come on, Hoonie, you're so cute when you lose control."

Your voice was a sweet poison, you looked at him with an amused air as he desperately tried to maintain some dignity. Another kiss, this time lower. Sunghoon stiffened when your lips came close to his navel, his tail convulsively moved behind him. "P-princess, we are in public." You looked up, tilting your head with an all too innocent air. "It was you who brought me into this room, not me," you reminded him, the sweet but poisonous tone Sunghoon swallowed heavily.

Your fingers slid down the waistband of his pants, playing with the zipper with maddening slowness. "What is it, Hoon? Are you nervous?" He bit his lip, avoiding your gaze, a little disaster. The cynical and distant nerd, the one who always looked at you with superiority, with dismissive sarcasm, was now nothing more than a guy trembling under your touch. A loser you could have done anything to, Sunghoon's breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling with force as you looked down on him with a smug smile. He seemed completely at the mercy of you, your hands, your lips, your poisonously sweet voice.

"Oh, Hoonie," you sighed, fingers playing with the zipper of his jeans. "You're so nervous now, and yet a little while ago you were trying to command me. What happened to all that security, huh?" He swallowed, the blush on his cheeks noticeable even in the shadow of the sunset. His eyes drooped for a moment, avoiding your gaze as if he were ashamed, but his body betrayed him: his tail flinched non-stop, his ears bent back, and the heat he emanated was stronger and stronger. You laughed quietly.

"You're a mess, Sunghoon," you whispered, your mouth barely touching his navel. "All cold and cynical in public… but look how you shrink when you're with me." Sunghoon bit his lip, holding back a little groan when your fingernails grazed the sensitive skin of his side. "Y-n /princess …" his voice trembled slightly, and this made you smile even more. "What is it? Does the truth bother you?" you tilted your head, your hands still on his belt. "Should I remind you who's in charge right now between the two of us?"

Sunghoon blinked, trying to recover, but his instincts were betraying him, a shiver ran through him, his breathing became heavier, and something inside him was changing. It was a creeping warmth, something primal that moved inside his chest, in his belly, and made him feel unstable, and vulnerable. He had always been so rational, so controlled, but now, with you looking at him with those amused eyes, with your voice humiliating him without the slightest effort… He was completely at the mercy of you and the worst was that he liked it.

"Look how you're shaking," you whispered, your fingers grazed the skin of his abdomen, tracing slow circles on his warm skin. "You're not really used to being under, huh, Sunghoon?" He clenched his fists to his sides, and his bunny ears drooped even more it was humiliating how much his body reacted to you so easily and you weren't letting him get away. Your mouth slowly rose up along his chest, depositing barely hinted kisses, letting your warm breath tickle his skin. "But you know what I like best? "you whispered against his ear, gently nibbling at his lobe. " That for all your tough-guy attitude, in the end you're just a desperate bunny who can't wait to be touched, to be commanded, and to simply be a bunny who pretends to be cold and a nice guy but who has repressed sexual instincts."

Sunghoon shuddered violently. His tail snapped behind him, his breath snapped and that heat inside him … was getting unbearable. And he had only one, the only solution. You, The tension in the room was palpable. The sunset cast long shadows on the floor, the golden light refracted on Sunghoon's bare skin, accentuating his every line, and every muscle contraction as he desperately tried to maintain a modicum of control over himself. But it was not easy. Not with you in front of him, with that mischievous smirk on his lips, with your light but devastating touch that made him tremble. You could feel its length contracted under the fabric of the boxer His tail moved erratically behind him, an obvious sign of the turmoil within himself.

You bit your lip, an amused look as you ran your fingers down the taut abdomen, then further down, barely touching the fabric that concealed her obvious excitement. "Not even in your worst dirty dreams will you think of tying me in a shabby university room, huh, bunny?"

you provoked him, letting the tip of your finger trace the shape of his erection over the stretched tissue. Sunghoon clenched his jaw, his gaze grew darker. "Stop it,Y/n," he growled, his tone authoritarian, but the effect was almost undone by the way his hips quivered at your touch. You laughed quietly, amused by her desperate struggle against herself. "Oh, so now you're being tough?" you tilted your head, slowly licking your lips while, without warning, lowering his boxer.

Its length bounced against his sculpted abdomen, and for a moment Sunghoon exhaled sharply, his hands clasping to the sides of the table behind him. His eyes shone with a mixture of defiance and despair. "You're a nightmare, you know?" he mumbled, trying to recover, but his voice was more hoarse, more hungry. You smiled, slowly sliding a finger along her length, observing with satisfaction the way her abs contracted under your touch. "A nightmare? And yet you are the one moaning for me already," you whispered in his ear, pressing your hand on his hot, pulsating skin. Sunghoon grunted, closing his eyes for a second. "You're over-dressed," he growled, his voice charged with frustration. "I want to hear you." The authoritarian tone made you smile even more. "Oh? And since when do you have the right to order something from me?" you asked him, but still, with maddening slowness, you took off your cardigan and then your blouse, leaving only your lace bralette on. Sunghoon held his breath. His eyes glided greedily over you, the blush on his cheeks became more intense as his tail trembled. "You are beautiful," he confessed, almost unwillingly, as if those words had escaped him. You laughed quietly. "I know." Then, with an almost cruel sweetness, you bent down and brushed the tip of its length with a light, almost innocent kiss. Sunghoon gasped, his hands clenched to the edges of the table as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored to reality. "Princess— " his voice broke when your hand squeezed slightly around him, running your thumb over the already damp tip of pearly liquid. "What was that sound, Hoonie?" you provoked him, the tone sweet and poisonous. "It just sounded like a groan…" He clenched his teeth, but his body betrayed him. His breath had become heavier, his gaze was lost between desire and humiliation. "I want to fill you," he confessed in a desperate whisper, his voice loaded with need, his animal instincts out of control. "Want—" Slap. Not strong, just a small blow on his inner thigh, enough to make him snap open his eyes and look at you with surprise. "Oh, my bunny," you sighed with a satisfied smile. "I already told you, didn't I? You'll fill me up and knot me only in my room … or yours."

Sunghoon nodded mechanically … until he processed the last part of the sentence. "No," he growled, the blush on his cheeks noticeable. You raised an eyebrow. "No?" "Not in my room." You bit your lip to hold back a laugh. "Why? Too ashamed to take me there? Or are you afraid I'll find out your dirty little secrets, Hoonie? Or are you afraid that I will invade your hybrid space?" Sunghoon grunted, looking at you with hatred and desire at the same time.

You are his damnation, you are his darkest need and, despite everything, you are the only one who could ever dominate him like this. You smiled with your usual mischievous look, your fingers playing with him almost absent-mindedly as if everything you were doing was a recent pastime. But Sunghoon could not pretend that for him it was the same. His breathing was heavy, his jaw clenched as he desperately tried to maintain control.

"Do you want to come, Hoonie?" you whispered, the tone sweet and poisonous. He nodded without even thinking, his bunny ears bent back, the blush on his cheeks now evident. You laughed slowly, biting your lip to hold back the satisfaction. "Then answer my economics questions." Sunghoon blinked, for a moment he looked confused. "C-what?" "I told you." Your grip just got tighter on his pinkish, veiny cock, making him gasp and leaving a choked moan on his lips. "If you want some relief, prove to me that you're really that nerd pretending to be in class." He glanced at you full of frustration, but his tail kept shaking behind him. "You are-you are a nightmare." "I know," you laughed, then, without giving him time to retort, you looked at him with a defiant smile. "So … let's get started. What is the formula for calculating the total profit?" Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek, trying to concentrate. "R - total revenues minus total costs." A light kiss on his hot skin was his reward, but soon after you tightened your grip, making him quiver, and pumped his cock into your hands to feel him gritting his teeth from pleasure but also from annoyance. "good boy, bunny," he whispered against his abdomen.

"Don't call me that," he growled, but his tone lacked mordant, too distracted by the feeling of your hands on him. "Mmh, we'll see," you laughed. "Second question: what is the break-even point?" Sunghoon clung to the edge of the table, his eyes trying to stay shiny. "It's - it's the point where total revenues and total costs equalize, so there's no profit or loss." Another kiss on his cock, this time slower, as you run your tongue over his skin and twirled your tongue in his cock and then sucked it lightly, leaving a warm, moist trail that made him arch his back. "baby… " he growled, his hand clasped around your side as if he wanted to stop you, but at the same time did not dare. You looked at him with bright eyes. "Third question, Hooni" He swallowed, wheezing. "I'm going to" "Not yet." You threw a dangerous look at him, then, unhurriedly, unfastened your bralette, letting the cloth fall to the ground without any hesitation. Sunghoon froze, his gaze glued to you, as your swollen breasts ribbed and then laughed softly, in that low, slightly mocking tone he used when trying to regain control.

"Are you trying to distract me?" You tilted your head with a sweet smile. "Distract you? But if you're the one moaning like a desperate bunny in heat for my touch." The blush on his cheeks became even more intense, but instead of fighting back, he did something you didn't expect. His hands grabbed you by the hips more firmly and, before you could react, you found yourself lying on the bench with him on top of you and his cock ribbing slightly. "Keep your breasts slightly tight I want to fuck you those beautiful tits," said Sunghoon sighing softly, you looked at him with your eyes drooping and cupped your breasts and held him slightly open and Hoon's eyes were ajar as he slid his huge cock between your breasts, his breath trembling as the heat increased. "Who is the desperate one now?" he whispered with a defiant grin, the same one that drove you crazy in class when he pretended to be unattainable. You looked up, slowly licking your lips. "Oh, so you want to lead now, Hoonie?"

He grunted quietly, his control now thin as a silk thread. In the classroom, you could hear only your moans and choked breaths and the slimy noise of his cock rubbing around your breasts, you had never seen this version of Hoon and after a couple of thrusts as he touched your breasts with one hand and the other leaned to slide his cock between your breasts with a broken breath, he let go completely, his hands trembled as he clutched you, his body crossed with chills as pleasure overwhelmed him. A slimy substance of sperm began to trickle around your breasts until it reached your navel and you groaned at the sight you were full of filaments of cum; for a moment, the only sound in the room was his heavy breathing, the frantic beating of his heart against your chest. But then, as he tried to recover, something inside him became agitated. It was a deep warmth, something visceral and it hadn't passed yet. He stiffened slightly, his ears moved restlessly, and his tail waved uncontrollably. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"All right, Hoonie? You still seem agitated." He swallowed, the redness did not leave his face. "…I don't know," he admitted softly. For the first time, there was a veil of uncertainty in his expression. As if something was changing inside him. And the fear of what would come next began to make its way into his mind.

Sunghoon dressed in haste, his body still tense, his hands moving in a nervous rush as he buttoned up the jeans. His breathing was heavy, his face still reddened, yet his eyes had veiled with something darker. He approached you in silence, took you by the wrists with a delicacy that you did not expect, and with quick and precise gestures began to clothe you. The cardigan on the shoulders, the blouse buttons closed with almost obsessive care, the fingers that barely lingered on your skin as if he wanted to memorize every detail before…leaving.

It was weird, after everything that had happened between you, after the way he had let himself go—which he never did now seemed to want to erase all traces of that moment. And you couldn't understand it. When he turned to leave, you grabbed him by the wrist. The abnormal heat of his skin made you wince.

"Sunghoon." He froze but did not turn around. "Are you okay?" you asked him, trying to cross his gaze. His breath grew deeper for a moment. Then, without too much emphasis, he broke free from your grip with a slow but firm movement. "I'm fine," he replied flatly. You watched him carefully. "No, you are not." He finally turned around, his rabbit ears slightly lowered, a sign that something was wrong inside him. But his face… his face was deadpan. There was no trace of the vulnerability you had seen just before, of the guy you had in your hands and that you had brought to the limit. Just the usual Sunghoon: cynical, distant. "You wouldn't understand," he said in a low voice. You stiffen. "And why not?" "Because you are only a human." He said it with a coldness that struck you like a slap. You stared at him, your arms lowering at your sides. "So what?" "So you shouldn't be here," he continued, his voice unhesitatingly. "What happened… was a mistake." His words hit you right in the stomach, making you short of breath for a second.

A mistake? Your throat tightened. You looked him straight in the eye, looking for any sign that he was lying. Any little hesitation, any crack in his ice mask. But there was nothing, only detachment, only coldness. "Sunghoon," you muttered, trying to figure out what the hell was going through his mind. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair in an almost frustrated gesture. "A hybrid like me needs a true companion. Not a human who likes to tease him." His every word was a blade that sank into your chest. You felt like an idiot, you felt used, and the anger began to boil inside you. "Bullshit," you hissed, stepping towards him. Sunghoon did not move. "Jungwon and Jake stayed with human girls! I don't think they're getting all this fucking paranoid!" "They're not rabbits," he replied, his tone frosty. This time you were the one blocking, Sunghoon looked down for a second, then raised him with an expression that gave you chills. He was calm, too calm. "You don't understand, Y/n, and you will never understand." Your jaw clenched if he wanted to play that game, then you would too. You straightened, crossing your arms.

"So what do you want to do, Sunghoon? Escape?" He didn't answer right away. He looked at you for a few seconds, then tilted his head slightly. "Exactly." And with that word, without another hesitation, he turned and left the room. Leaving you there, with your heart beating painfully in your chest and the feeling that you have been pushed out of her world with a brutality you did not expect.

The chair next to yours was empty.

Again.

It had been over a week since Sunghoon had decided to cut you out of his life, and his silence was eating away at you more than you ever wanted to admit. He didn’t spare you a glance, not a nod, not even the slightest hesitation in his movements when he walked past you as if you were just another stranger.

And it was driving you insane. But not just with anger—also with sadness.

You had never cried over a boy. Never. And yet, there was a weight in your chest that wouldn’t go away, a lump in your throat that grew every time you saw him ignoring you with that impassive expression of his.

And you were tired of feeling this way.

That’s why, when you went to the convenience store to buy lollipops and found all your favorite flavors—strawberries and cream, no exceptions—gone, a sharp pang of irritation shot through you.

Because you knew exactly who had been buying them up until now, who had taken the trouble to make them disappear just to see you annoyed, to watch you bite your lip in frustration while you sucked on the orange or watermelon ones with a pout.

Sunghoon.

Bastard.

If he wanted to ignore you, if he wanted to shut you out, then why did he keep creeping into your mind? Why did he keep reminding you that beneath that cold, cynical mask of his, he was still the boy who loved to tease you, the one who had made you his so many times, the one who had let himself go in your hands with a vulnerability he had never shown anyone else?

You hated him.

You hated him because, despite everything, your heart still beat faster whenever you saw him.

The economics exam had gone great.

A beautiful 88 stood next to your name on the results board, and even though you would have preferred a higher score, you knew you had Sunghoon to thank. He was an exceptional tutor—you knew that well—and his method had worked perfectly.

Then, your gaze drifted upward to the highest grade in the class.

100. And next to that number, as always, was his name. Sunghoon Park.

No surprise there—he had always been perfect in his subjects, always meticulous, always one step ahead of everyone.

And yet, when you turned to look for him in the crowd, you didn’t find him. Strange. Sunghoon was always the first to check the exam results, the first to line up at the board, the first to gauge the class’s performance.

But that morning, his spot remained empty, and for the first time, an unsettling feeling settled in your stomach.

Sunghoon hadn’t shown up for two whole weeks—not that you were counting the days. Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. But it was impossible not to notice. His desk was always empty, his presence had become an overwhelming absence, and you… you were worried.

Not that you would ever admit it, not after everything he had said to you. If he wanted to shut you out of his life, then you would do the same.

Or at least, you would try.

You were about to leave the classroom when the professor gestured for you to come closer.

-Congratulations on the test, Y/N. Excellent work.-

You smiled, though the weight of your thoughts made it hard to feel genuinely happy. “Thank you, professor.”

Then, you saw him pull out another sheet—the exam results of Sunghoon.

-Have you seen him lately?- the professor asked, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t tell the truth, couldn’t admit that Sunghoon had been avoiding you like the plague and that you had no idea what had happened to him.

So, you lied.

“He’s sick,” you said as naturally as possible. “A bad flu… high fever, nausea, stomach issues…” You were making up the worst excuses, but it didn’t matter.

The professor nodded. -I see. Could you give him his test when you see him?-

Your eyes widened for a moment. Did it really have to be you? You hesitated, then slowly nodded. “Of course…”

You picked up the paper with a frown. His name was written at the top in that perfect handwriting of his—the same handwriting that had helped you understand difficult concepts, the one you knew so well. And it was while staring at his test that you noticed an orange-haired figure nearby.

Sunoo. You walked over and greeted him in your usual cheerful tone, even though he looked slightly uneasy.

“Hey, Sunoo! Do you know where Sunghoon is?”

His expression turned cautious. ‘He’s… sick.’

The exact same response you had given the professor, but something in his tone was off.

You tilted your head. “Sick how? Is it just the flu?”

Sunoo hesitated, biting his lip before letting out a sigh. ‘You should take it to him yourself.’

Your eyes widened. “What? Why?”

‘Because it’s better if you see him in person.’

His words only confused you further. What was going on with Sunghoon? And why was Sunoo being so evasive?

But by now, you knew only one thing—you had to go see him.

You were lying on your bed, a strawberries-and-cream lollipop between your lips, your phone open to your chat with Sunghoon. You had typed and deleted your message at least ten times.

You had his economics test, and despite the way he had shut you out of his life, you couldn’t stop worrying. You bit your lip, unsure whether to send something straightforward or teasing. In the end, with an exasperated sigh, you typed:

“Hey, Park Sunghoon (🐇👿), I have your economics test. Want me to bring it over?”

You hit send before you could change your mind. Your phone vibrated almost immediately.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“NO.”

You froze, staring at the screen in disbelief. No? Just no?

That test had a perfect score—just as you’d expected from him—and he didn’t even care to get it back? His stubbornness and cold demeanor drove you insane, as if nothing had happened the last time you saw each other.

Clutching the paper in your hand, you marched out of your room and headed straight for his door. You didn’t need his permission.

Once there, you lowered your gaze and slid the test under the small gap beneath the door, along with a little handwritten note:

“Congrats on the 100, genius. Too busy playing sick to brag about it? Or has the little bunny decided to become a hermit? What a waste of beauty and brains. Oh, by the way, be careful… if you keep hiding in there, you might end up even paler than you already are. Go get some air, idiot.”

You straightened up, satisfied, ready to turn and head back to your room—when your phone vibrated again.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“Go away. You stink.”

You stopped in your tracks. You stink?

That damn rabbit! Your eyes widened, and you felt the blood in your veins boil. You clenched your phone, gritting your teeth.

If he wanted to play dirty, fine.

Leaning closer to the door, you lowered your voice into a venomous whisper, sure he would hear you.

“Funny. Last time you sniffed me, you seemed pretty into my scent…”

You slipped the note under the door and crossed your arms, waiting for his reaction.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzed.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“Maybe I need a new nose.”

You huffed, biting your lip to hold back a smile. Even if he was being cold and distant, at least he was responding. That meant you weren’t completely irrelevant to him.

Deciding to push further, you let a bit of your concern slip through—though, of course, disguised as teasing.

“Park Sunghoon, are you actually sick, or are you just being an emo bunny?”

Another message came almost instantly.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“No.”

No? You narrowed your eyes. That was the second time he had answered like that, and this time, it didn’t seem like he was just trying to push you away.

Without thinking, you called his number. The dial tone rang once, twice—then he picked up.

Your heart skipped a beat.

It had been two weeks since you’d last heard his voice.

“What do you want, Y/N?” His voice was hoarse, slightly strained.

“What do I want? What do I want? You’ve been missing for two weeks, and the only thing you can say to me is ‘what do you want’?” You huffed, irritated—but deep down, relief washed over you at the sound of him actually speaking to you.

From the other end of the line, you heard the rustling of blankets and a sigh.

“Tsk. You’re always so annoying.” You smiled slightly.

“And you’re always an idiot.” A moment of silence. Then, a sudden shift, a barely audible inhale.

“Y/N, leave.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me? Who do you think you are to give me orders?”

“I’m telling you to get away from my door.”

“And why would I do that?”

Another pause. Then his voice dropped, almost as if speaking was difficult for him.

“Because I can smell you too much.”

You froze. Then, a sly smile crept onto your lips.

“Oh?” Sunghoon let out a sharp exhale on the other end of the line, already sensing where this was going.

“Don’t start.”

“Too late.” You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle. “Sunghoon… are you in heat?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

You could practically see him on the other side of the phone—jaw clenched, ears twitching slightly with embarrassment and irritation.

“None of your business.”

You burst out laughing, delighted.

“Oh my god, I hit the mark! So it’s true!”

“Y/N—”

“You know, I did some research… and your behavior matches exactly with that of a bunny in heat.”

There was a dull thud, like he had just slammed his head against his pillow or mattress in frustration.

“Stop reading those ridiculous blogs and go study economics or something useful instead of wasting your time on stupid theories about rabbits.”

“Oh, so they’re stupid theories? Then why are you still avoiding leaving your room?”

The prolonged silence on the other end was all the confirmation you needed.

Sunghoon was in trouble. And no matter how much he wanted to hide it, you had figured it out.

The line crackled slightly before he spoke again.

“What the hell do you want now?” His voice was flat, cold—but beneath that forced composure, there was something else. Something sharp, on the verge of breaking.

You bit your lip, the mischievous smile already playing on your mouth.

“You know, today I read an interesting blog about hybrids in heat.”

From the other side of the door, inside his room, you heard the faintest shift in his breathing.

“Tsk. You shouldn’t stick your nose into things like that.”

“Oh, but it was so fascinating,” you continued, letting your voice drop just slightly, slipping into a whisper almost too intimate. “They talked about how hybrids in heat become… obsessed. How their bodies burn up, how the knot—”

“Y/N.” His tone was a warning, but the fact that he hadn’t hung up said everything.

“How they want to fill their partner over and over, even if they can’t actually breed her.” You leaned against his door, imagining him on the other side, probably running a hand through his hair, struggling to maintain control. “How it’s not just physical desire but mental. The need to mark, to claim, even when they know it’s impossible.”

The silence that followed was thick, electric. Then, a slow, prolonged sigh.

“You’re playing with something you can’t control.” Your pulse quickened, your lips curving upward.

“And what if I don’t want to control it?”

He let out a low chuckle, a dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, baby…” he took a moment before continuing, his voice now hoarse, impatient. “If you were in here with me, I wouldn’t let you go until your body recognized who it belongs to.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling the heat spread through your chest, your stomach, and lower.

“You’re all talk, Sunghoon,” you teased, your voice dropping to a whisper. From the other side of the door, you heard a dull thud, as if he’d hit something.

“Open this door and we’ll see who’s just talking.” The phone call ended with a sharp click.

And you stood there, your heart pounding too fast, your breath unsteady.

You knew that if you opened that door, he would keep every single promise.

You knocked, your fist light but insistent against the wood.

“Sunghoon, open up.” Your voice was low, almost a whisper, but you knew his hybrid ears would pick up every tiny vibration.

A deep breath from the other side, then his response—hoarse, tense.

“If you come in here, your scent will fill my entire territory. And I won’t be able to control myself.”

You bit your lip, your chest tightening at his confession.

“I miss you,” you admitted. “I want you. All of you. Your human side… and your hybrid side.”

A tense silence, charged. Then a low chuckle.

“You’re truly reckless.” But the soft click of the lock made you hold your breath.

The door creaked open slightly—just enough for you to catch a glimpse of Sunghoon. And the sight stole the air from your lungs.

He was leaning against the doorframe, his breathing heavy. His damp hair fell messily over his forehead, a few strands sticking to his flushed skin. His bare chest rose and fell unevenly, his biceps flexing as he gripped the door, his toned abs glistening slightly with sweat. His rabbit ears were pinned back, his face flushed, and behind him, his tail twitched restlessly, agitated, unsettled.

A shiver ran down your spine. Staring at you with dark eyes, Sunghoon let out a slow, resigned sigh.

“Fuck…”

Then, in an instant, he shoved you against the wall.

The door slammed shut with a thud, his heated body pressing into yours. His breath was everywhere—on your skin, in your neck, inside your thoughts. He inhaled slowly, his nose brushing along the curve of your shoulder, then trailing up the line of your jaw, stopping at the hollow of your neck.

A shiver crawled up your spine as you felt his lips ghost over your skin—light, reverent.

And then you felt it a tremor in his breath, the faintest hitch.

A tear—warm, silent—slipped down his cheek as he buried his face into your skin, as if he wanted to melt into you.

“I missed you,” he murmured between kisses, his lips tracing a burning path along your skin. “You have no idea how much.”

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you even closer against him.

“You’ve been bad, you know that?” His voice dropped an octave, sending another shiver through you. “Leaving me like that… with your scent everywhere, but without you.”

With every word, every touch, your breath grew more uneven. Then a gasp escaped you when his lips latched onto your skin with more force, leaving a mark.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Oh, I missed that sound so much.” You let out a soft giggle, your hands reaching up to his soft ears, tugging them gently to make him lift his gaze to you.

“You’re a mess,” you whispered, your thumbs stroking the base of his ears, Sunghoon scoffed, but his dark eyes burned with desire.

“And whose fault is that, huh?” His grip tightened, his body shifting slightly against yours. A shudder ran through you as you felt his heat rubbing against you, the thin fabric between you both an increasingly frustrating obstacle. A whimper slipped past your lips, and Sunghoon wasted no time leaning into your ear to whisper:

“You’re warm.”

“You’re burning,” you answered, your voice trembling.

A sharp breath left his lips, his eyes half-lidded as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“You know what a hybrid in heat does, don’t you?” His hand slid along your back, pulling you impossibly closer. “I’ve spent weeks losing my mind, with only one thought in my head.”

His gaze was feverish, torn between wanting to tease you and the sheer desire burning through him.

“I thought about you every single day,” he confessed, his voice low, strained. “About how I wanted to hold you again. About how I wanted to kiss you in front of everyone so no one would ever dare to look at you like they could have you.”

He bit down gently on your earlobe, his voice a husky vibration against your skin.

“About how much I want to fill you up.” A heavy breath. “Stuff you full of me, mark you, make you understand that your place is right here—with me.”

His eyes were dark, feverish, his breathing heavy as he studied you, as if trying to figure out if you were joking.

But you weren’t. “You can do anything to me, Sunghoon,” you whispered, your heart hammering in your chest. “You can fill me. You can love me. You can use me… you can worship me.”

For a moment—just one—his mask seemed to crack. But then Sunghoon let out a low, sharp laugh, tilting his head slightly.

“You’re insane.” His tone was cold, disdainful. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Instead of answering, you reached out and tugged on his ears, forcing him to lower his head toward you.

“You’re the one who doesn’t understand anything.” And before he could respond, you kissed him. The kiss was immediately chaotic, desperate, filled with pent-up tension. Your tongues tangled without grace, too hungry to care about making it perfect. Sunghoon groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your hips too tightly, as if he were trying to restrain himself. But then he lifted you effortlessly, making your head spin, and turned toward the bed.

“You’re invading my territory, you know that?” His tone was still amused, but with a subtle hint of warning beneath it.

You bit your lip, your fingertips brushing the nape of his neck.

“Strange…” you whispered. “Because you’ve been invading mine for weeks.”

His nostrils flared slightly, his pupils dilated just a bit, and behind him, his tail twitched nonstop.

He dropped you onto the mattress in one fluid motion, his hands immediately slipping to the waistband of your jeans. Then, without breaking eye contact, he pulled them down in a slow, exasperating motion.

A low whistle escaped his lips as the fabric pooled on the floor.

“Oh, would you look at that,” he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips as his fingers grazed the elastic of your white panties. “Such a good girl.”

His tone was venomously sweet, the cynicism in his gaze burning hot enough to make your blood boil.

“Innocent little princess…” He shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“Do you know what happens to good girls who play with fire?” He lowered his face just slightly, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

“I ruin them.” You laughed—right until you felt his mouth press small kisses and love bites along your thighs.

You slipped a finger under his chin, making him look up at you with curiosity.

“I want a lollipop,” you said in an innocent tone. Sunghoon looked at you, slightly confused, but then he stood up, walked to his desk, and pulled out a strawberry-and-cream lollipop from the drawer. He brought it to your lips, trying to place it in your mouth. But you shook your head.

“I want you to suck it and after that you will eat my pussy with the taste of lollipop” he laughed and said no with his head because you were seriously crazy but he adored you. Sunghoon let the lollipop slip out of his mouth with a soft sound, his tongue barely passing over his lips as if to savor its last remaining sugar. Then he looked down at you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "You're a little bit of a temptation, aren't you?"

his voice was low, almost a satisfied growl. "First you provoke me, then you play the good girl who asks for treats..." He tilted his head, the cynical grin spreading over his lips. "I wonder how many more tantrums you'll have once I really start touching you."

You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. "So what are you waiting for?" Sunghoon laughed softly, shaking his head.

“You're impatient." Then, without warning, he lowered the lollipop on your skin, drawing a sugary line that started from the lower abdomen until it touched your most sensitive center. You stiffened under that unusual contact, a shiver running down your back.

Sunghoon watched you, his amused smile as his warm breath grazed the spot where the sweet had melted on your skin. "And now..." His voice was just a whisper before his lips lowered on you, savoring you as if you were the finest confectionery. A groan involuntarily eluded you, and you felt his smile against your skin. "Hm," he muttered in a contented tone, the sound almost an animalistic purr. "You know about sugar, but much better." His tail moved relentlessly behind him, a sign of his feverish state, of his desire to get completely lost in you.

"And now, baby ..." His gaze was a promise as she bent over you again. "Let's see how long you can hold out before you beg me."

His lips went down the inside of your thighs, leaving open, moist kisses, followed by small bites that made you jerk. Every time you moaned, Sunghoon laughed softly against your skin, the sound low and satisfied.

"You like to be teased, don't you?" his voice was a sharp whisper. "Does it excite you so much that this is enough for you to get completely wet?"

You bit your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of an answer. But then his fingers slipped against you, finding you already all too ready, and Sunghoon growled softly, the sound instinctive, animalistic. "You're tremendous," he hissed, his tone cynical.

"You always make yourself look so cheeky, and yet look how you are reduced to me." You gave him a defiant look, a heavy breath.

“So what? Aren't you the one who goes crazy about my smell?" Sunghoon froze for a moment, then laughed, his tail moving even more frantically.

"What a naughty mouth..." And without warning, he pushed a finger inside you, the slow but inexorable gesture. A groan eluded you before you could stop it, and Sunghoon bit his lip, his eyes dark and feverish.

"What was this, uh?"He looked at you with false innocence, then pushed deeper, his wrist moving with a torturing rhythm. "Weren't you the one who could respond in tone?" You tried to fight back, but the second finger was added to the first, and the sound that came out of your lips was more a muffled cry. His fingers inside you pumped inside your poor cunt now at the mercy of the desire not to be filled by his fingers but by his cock and Sunghoon smiled, satisfied.

"Oh, that's what I like the most." He continued to move, the pace increasing, while his gaze was glued to your face, at every slightest reaction.

"I want to hear you, baby," he whispered in a hoarse voice. "I want everyone to know who is driving you crazy." You felt on a knife edge, the pleasure accumulating too quickly. "Sunghoon..." you gasped, your hands clasping to the sheets. He smiled against your skin, mischievous.

"Tell me you're mine."

"I am," you groaned. "Only yours." His tail moved even faster, a satisfied growl escaped from his lips.

"Yes, so..." Then, with a slow gesture, he took the lollipop you had forgotten and slid it on you, on your clitoris and you screamed for the sticky sensation you felt at your most sensitive point, the sweet sugar mixing with the warmth of your skin, your body trembled, the unbearable pleasure.

"I want you to dirty my whole bed, baby," he muttered, his eyes burning. "I want to see you completely lose control for me." And with his lips on you, his fingers deep and the lollipop cold against your hot skin, you felt yourself overcoming every limit, your body straining, lost completely in him. Sunghoon stood there, his breath heavy as he looked at you. Then he ran his tongue over his lips, savoring you as you came between his long fingers and his tongue and ate you as if you were his favorite meal, and he giggled quietly.

"Definitely much better than sugar." he told you as he sucked your excitement dripping from your sensitive center.

Sunghoon stood for a moment motionless, his chest lifting and lowering heavily as he looked at you, his ears stretched backwards, his tail moving erratically. He seemed on the verge of completely losing control. And then he saw you trembling under him, his thighs still open, his breath broken, his body marked by his kisses and his fingers, and something inside him broke.

"Fuck you," he growled quietly, the tone imbued with frustration and longing. In one movement, he took off the boxer, His excitement throbbed heavily among you, thicker, bigger than anything human, with its obvious animal furrow, turgid veins running through it, and a slight pearly patina on the tip. He was made to reproduce, to knot you, to fill you up to mark you as his. You felt yourself burning under his feverish gaze. Sunghoon grabbed you by the wrists and lifted you slightly, placing a pillow under you with an instinctive gesture.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, though the tension in his tone said how close he was to the edge. Then his hands grabbed the edge of your sweatshirt and, without any hesitation, slid it away, followed by your bra. His eyes glided greedy over you, his fingers touching your breasts, clutching them with a mixture of adoration and need. His breathing was heavy when his thumbs began to fiddle with sensitive skin, the touch as sweet as it was frustrating.

"I wish I could have prepared you more," he hissed through his teeth, his voice kneading with desire. "But I can't take it anymore. You're driving me crazy."

You threw a defiant look at him, a mischievous smile on his lips. "Oh? And I thought you had self-control..." Sunghoon stared at you for a second, his cynical grin widening. Then one of his hands came down on your thigh, tightly squeezing it. "I had," he admitted, tilting his head, his ears moving slightly.

"But then you came here to provoke me with that smell... with that body that just asks to be taken."

You felt yourself vibrating under the weight of his words. Sunghoon looked down, his tail moving restlessly as he grazed his length against you, making you feel every inch of his not-quite-human form. His groove pulsed, the instinct to knot you and tie you to him as nature dictated was now out of control.

He bit his lip, his breath hoarse. "I can't wait to see you take everything, to see you swollen because of me..." His body trembles. He was struggling with himself, trying not to get completely carried away by his impulses. And then you whispered to him those words that broke his every brake.

"You can do whatever you want with me, Sunghoon."

A deep growl climbed from his throat and without any more warning, he pushed his hips forward, reclaiming you with one movement, a cry escaped from your lips. His body was different, thicker, thicker, the groove of his heat throbbing as he perfectly suited you.

"S-Sunghoon..." you stuttered, your hands looking for a foothold on his strained biceps. He looked down at you, his crooked, perverse smile as he felt your body huddle around him. "Too much?"he repeated with a grin. "And yet, look how you're taking me ... little liar."

His voice was hoarse, imbued with an animalistic delight as he began to move. Each thrust was heavier, slower, deeper. His instinct led him to claim you, to make you feel every inch of his not entirely human form. Your legs involuntarily tightened around his hips, your body instinctively responding to his. He noticed it and laughed quietly, with that cynical and hungry tone that drove you crazy.

"See? Your body knows who it belongs to." You reeled, the pleasure clouding your mind as he sank deeper and deeper. "Sunghoon ... I—I..."

He came up to your ear, his breath boiling over your skin.

“What? Tell me." Your body trembled under him, and when you finally found the voice, it was only to whisper: "I want you to fill me..."

Sunghoon froze for a moment, his body stretched like a violin string. Then something in his eyes changed. "Fucking silly," he hissed, the tone more animalistic than before. "Don't tell me certain things, or I'll lose my mind completely."

But it was already too late. His groove swelled even more, and a heat wave spread inside you. Your breath snapped as you felt his body respond to the primal need to brand you. Sunghoon did not stop. Every push was more intense, every whispered word more possessive, his cock pushed deeper and deeper inside you and you felt your poor cunt suck it deeper and deeper, ormia your body responded only to the instincts of animalistic Sunghoon.

"I want you all ..." he gasped against your neck. "I want to see you swollen because of me... see my mark on you, I want to fertilize you with my sperm and with my rabbit knot in heat."

His nails pressed lightly against your skin as his body betrayed him, the heat consuming him, the instinct taking over. "You are mine," he growled, and there was no longer any doubt: he would not let you go.

His hands were everywhere—on your thighs, on your hips, on your arms, as if he wanted to brand you with his touch. And as it sank even deeper, you felt its body change inside you, its groove throbbing and swelling more and more, filling you to the brim. Your mind was clouded with pleasure, your body trembling under the weight of its heat and you felt like the last time a heat overwhelm you but even more.

"Hoon..." you gasped, fingers clinging to his strong shoulders. He looked down at you, his smile crooked and hungry, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell me, baby," he muttered in that cynical tone that drove you crazy. "I-Your knot... it's so big..." you stammered, your voice broken by groans.

He laughed softly, the sound deep and perverse. "Oh? Haven't you read in your stupid science blogs that when a rabbit hybrid is in heat, the knot gets even bigger?" Your shook your head weakly, your body squeezing it even more unwittingly.

Sunghoon groaned softly, his jaw clenched as he felt how much I was holding him back. "Damn... You're acting like a fucking fool in heat." His words made you shudder, your breath broken as he pushed even deeper, his knot swelling more and more inside you.

"Not even the rabbits when I'm in heat can hold me so well," he hissed with a crooked smile. "But you ... you're crushing me, baby." You squirmed under him, the pleasure too intense, every fiber of your body screaming for a release. "S-Sunghoon ... I ... want..."

He watched you with a predatory gaze, his irregular breathing as he teased your clit with expert fingers. "You want to come?"he asked with a cynical grin. You reeled, your body shaking under him. “Let him out then," he whispered against your ear. "I want to see you make a good mess in this fuck that you say so much to adore."

The heat poured into you in uncontrollable waves as your body gave way completely, your nails sinking into his skin as a scream of pleasure broke on your lips. Sunghoon did not stop, continuing to move inside you with deep, slow strokes, his knot still pulsing, sealing you together. His teeth grazed your neck as he whispered, his voice low and animalistic, Sunghoon gasped above you, his body boiling against yours as every fiber of his existence screamed to claim you. There was no trace of rationality left in his eyes—only the pure instinct of a hybrid in heat, thirsting for you.

His hands held you still, his muscles tense as he sank his cock deeper and deeper, his broken breath mixed with a choked growl.

“You're a fool, " he hissed at your ear, his voice hoarse and full of desire. “Do you realize what you did? You walked in here while I'm in heat, and now I can't stop.”

His strokes became deeper and deeper, more animalistic, his body clutching you as if he wanted to merge with you. He looked down at your belly, his eyes feverish as she felt his knot swell more and more inside you.

"Look how good you are taking me..." he whispered with a perverse smile. “Not even a slut could hold me so tight.” A shiver ran through your back, his dirty words making you lose control.

“I will tie you to me, " he continued, his teeth brushing your neck, his voice lower and hungry. “I'll fill you up to make you feel mine in every knot I can, I'll fumble you so all the other hybrids will know who you belong to.”

The heat within you grew, your body completely wrapped in its domain. "Say it," he insisted, his tongue caressing your moist skin. "Tell me that you want to be tied to me, that you want to be filled.” “L-I want it..." you gasped, your breath broken as your body trembled beneath him.

Sunghoon laughed softly, that deep, perverse sound as he looked at you with dark eyes of pure desire. “What a naive little prey... "

he whispered, as his knot swelled completely inside you, sealing you together. His warmth invaded you, his irregular breathing as he kept moving inside you with deep, slow strokes, savoring every second.

You felt completely bound to him, your body shaking as Sunghoon sank still, his hands clutching you with almost desperate need. His chest moved quickly against yours, his breath warm as he licked your neck with a possessive gesture. "Mine," he whispered with a satisfied grin. “And now you can no longer escape me.”

You felt his semen fill you completely and you screamed with pleasure as he kept pushing his cum-soaked cock inside you as if to make you realize that he never wanted to part with you.

The silence in the room was broken only by your ragged breaths, your bodies still stuck together with sweat, the warmth of his knot still present inside you.

When Sunghoon slowly pulled away, a moan escaped both of you, a mix of pleasure and sensitivity as your bond unraveled. His gaze dropped to your stomach, where his still-swollen knot left a visible mark of his claim. His dark eyes lingered on you for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what he had done—how recklessly he had taken you.

He lay down beside you, his breathing still uneven, and without a word, he pulled you close. His arm wrapped around your waist, and his head nestled against your neck. You could feel his damp hair tickling your skin, his chest rising and falling with increasingly heavy breaths.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, wrapped in a silence thick with emotion, your hands intertwined without the need for words.

Then, a small kiss. Another. His lips brushed against your neck in slow, almost trembling gestures. And that’s when you heard it… a silent sob.

His breath hitched.

You stiffened for a second, surprised, then turned to look at him

“Hoon?” you whispered gently, but he didn’t move. His face was still buried against your body, his arm tightening around you as if he was afraid to let go.

Your hand moved slowly across his back, stroking him reassuringly. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, his breath breaking with another muffled sob. Then, in a barely audible voice, he murmured:

“I’m a monster.” Your heart clenched.

“Sunghoon…” You tried to lift his face, but he resisted, shaking his head against your neck.

“Look at me,” you insisted, your voice firm yet soft.

“No.”

A faint smile formed on your lips despite everything. “Don’t act like a child. I want to see that beautiful face.”

He stayed still for a moment before another quiet sob slipped from his lips. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled away just enough to lift his gaze.

And when his red, teary eyes met yours, you realized how fragile he was in that moment.

Sunghoon—the cold, cynical hybrid, the insatiable rabbit who had taken you so fiercely—was now just a boy, terrified of being hated.

And you? You had no intention of letting him go.

You gently caressed his cheek, your thumb brushing over his warm, slightly damp skin. Sunghoon closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to engrain that feeling into his memory. Then, without thinking, he took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to the inside of your palm.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I was a jerk… an animal with you.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow, watching him with a small, knowing smile.

“Oh, absolutely,” you agreed, laughing softly as you began planting small kisses on the scattered beauty marks across his face. One on his cheek, one near his temple, one on his jawline.

Sunghoon sighed against your skin, his breath still uneven.

Then, almost unintentionally, he whispered:

“I love you.”

You froze for a moment, your lips still pressed against his skin.

The Sunghoon you knew was cynical, cold, calculating. He had always teased you, provoked you, even tormented you. You never thought you’d hear those words come from his mouth.

He tensed slightly in the silence that followed, clearing his throat. “Say something,” he murmured, more nervous than he wanted to admit.

You looked down at him, a tender smile curving your lips.

“I love you too.”

You felt him exhale softly, as if those words had lifted a crushing weight off his shoulders.

“Since when?” he asked, his deep, dark eyes locked onto yours.

You burst out laughing. “I don’t know… there’s no exact moment when you realize you love someone.”

Sunghoon lowered his gaze for a second, a small smile playing on his lips. “I do,” he admitted.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And when was that?”

He turned to look at you, his head slightly tilted against the pillow. “When I helped you with your homework. That’s when I started feeling something for you.”

You laughed, amused. “Are you serious? You fell in love with me while I was desperately begging you to explain economics to me?”

He scoffed, feigning offense. “Yes, because you were a total disaster,” he muttered, pulling you closer. “And I thought it was ridiculous how stubborn you were—how you refused to give up, no matter how hard it was.”

You looked at him fondly, your heart beating a little faster in your chest.

Sunghoon remained silent for a moment before shifting slightly, curling up against you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked softly.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Will you be my boyfriend?” you countered playfully.

He shot you a glare. “Answer my question first.”

You chuckled, running your fingers through his soft hair before nodding. “Yes.”

Sunghoon smiled against your skin, and after a moment, in a whisper, he said it too:

“Yes.”

And in that moment, you knew nothing had ever felt more right.

Jakept Jungwonpt

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shy9-29 · 2 days ago

Text

When The Calls Stopped [Alt Ending p2]

“Sometimes, love isn’t about perfection; it’s about finding a way through the mess, together.”

SOMAR𝒊O ─── After everything that had happened with Sunghoon, you never expected to find yourself here — walking alongside Heeseung, hand in hand, with Niki trailing behind, his usual sarcastic remarks filling the space between you. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt real, and for once, you weren’t consumed by the past. The lingering tension had faded, replaced with something simpler, something worth fighting for. Despite the ups and downs, the drama, and the confusion, you were finally moving forward, together. ex 박성훈 x 이희승 𝐱 𝑓. reader ✉️ wc. 32.8k ✶ careful ! skinship, kissing, swearing, ptsd, etc 🔖

pt 1 · ver 1 · masterlist

The rest of the members slowly drifted back into their usual playful banter. Heeseung and Jay were cracking jokes, Jake teasing Sunghoon about the volleyball game earlier, and Sunoo sassing someone about poolside etiquette. But despite the easygoing vibe, you couldn’t shake the heaviness that clung to your heart.

You found yourself glancing at Sunghoon again, but this time, he wasn’t looking at you. His focus was elsewhere, and it almost felt like a small relief. Maybe the distance between you was growing, but you didn’t know how to feel about it. Was it what you needed? Or had you lost something too precious to fix?

As the laughter continued around you, the sound of raindrops on the roof became a faint lullaby, soft but persistent, like a reminder that you couldn’t outrun your feelings, no matter how far you tried to go.

Niki turned to you after a while, catching your eyes. “You wanna take a walk?” he asked softly. “We can get some fresh air outside, away from all this.”

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded, needing the break from the tension that had been building all night. Maybe a walk in the rain would help clear your head—or at least give you a moment of space from all the chaos.

The two of you made your way outside, the cool rain greeting you once again. It was calming, in a way. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers, but at least you were starting to figure things out, piece by piece.

For now, that was enough. And that, in itself, felt like progress.

As you stepped outside into the rain, the cool droplets against your skin felt refreshing, but the knot in your stomach was far from untangling. Niki, ever observant, didn’t say a word as you both walked a little ways down the path, the sound of the rain filling the silence.

Finally, he glanced over at you, his expression soft but serious. “So, what’s going on?” he asked gently. “I know something’s been off today. You want to talk about it?”

You took a deep breath, the weight of the emotions that had been building inside of you since yesterday threatening to spill over. The words felt like they had been sitting on the tip of your tongue for hours, but you just couldn’t quite get them out. But with Niki’s steady presence beside you, it felt right to finally say them.

“I just… don’t know what to do anymore,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you intended. “I thought maybe things could work with Sunghoon again. But everything’s so complicated. Every time we try to talk, it feels like there’s something missing. Like he’s not the same anymore.”

Niki listened intently, nodding as you spoke, before pausing for a moment to let your words settle in. The rain was still pouring around you, but somehow, you felt a little lighter, like you were finally getting the weight off your chest.

He shifted his gaze to you, his expression thoughtful. “Well… what do you think?” he asked, his voice low but probing. “What do you want?”

The question caught you off guard. You had been so focused on what Sunghoon needed, on what was happening between you two, that you hadn’t really thought about what you wanted—for yourself, for your heart.

You stared out at the rain for a moment, taking in the steady rhythm of the downpour. You wanted things to be different. You wanted things to go back to how they were. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t possible anymore.

“I don’t know,” you said, more to yourself than to Niki. “I want to believe things can go back to normal. But every time I try, it feels like we’re just getting further apart.”

Niki looked at you carefully, not rushing you, letting you process your thoughts. After a moment, he spoke up again, his voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. You can take your time. But whatever happens with Sunghoon, just make sure you’re looking out for yourself, too.”

You nodded slowly, taking in his words. It was hard to think about yourself after everything that had happened, but maybe Niki was right. Maybe it was time to focus on what you truly needed, without the pressure of trying to make something work that wasn’t meant to.

“Thanks, Niki,” you murmured, finally feeling like you could breathe a little easier.

He flashed you a small smile, giving your shoulder a reassuring pat. “No problem. You’re not alone in this.”

And as the two of you stood there in the rain, the weight of everything didn’t feel as heavy anymore. You still didn’t have all the answers, but you felt like, for the first time in a while, you were starting to figure it out.

You walked back into the pool area, the warmth of the indoor space a stark contrast to the pouring rain outside. Despite the comfort, the storm inside your mind hadn’t let up. It felt like everything had changed so quickly, and yet, you were still standing here, unsure of what to do next. You took in a deep breath as you walked in, hoping the space and the fresh air would help you figure things out.

As you entered, you noticed the others scattered around the area. Heeseung was sitting with some of the other members, laughing and joking. He looked up when you walked in, his eyes softening just slightly as they met yours. But then your gaze shifted. On the other side of the room, Sunghoon sat alone, his back slumped and his head down, his gaze lost in the distance. The contrast between them couldn’t have been more evident. You felt a pang in your chest, but you pushed it down.

For a moment, you just stood there, weighing your options. You could walk over to Sunghoon, try to talk things through, see if he’d say anything that could change your mind. But as you watched him, something in you clicked. It was like the weight of the past few weeks hit you all at once, and you realized you couldn’t keep holding on to something that wasn’t real anymore. You had to make a choice.

Without thinking too much about it, you turned your attention to Heeseung. The conversation you had earlier had stirred something in you—something you hadn’t expected. There was a calmness to him that made you feel safe, like maybe you could find the answers you were looking for in him.

You walked over to him, each step making your heart race a little faster. He looked up as you approached, offering a small smile. You didn’t say anything right away, just stood there for a moment. The air between you felt thick with anticipation. Heeseung seemed to know what was coming before you did.

“So,” Heeseung started softly, “what now?”

You swallowed, your throat dry. “I… I think I need to make a decision,” you said, your voice shaky. “I can’t keep going like this, torn between two people and not knowing what I want anymore.”

Heeseung’s expression softened, and he nodded slightly, as if he understood exactly what you meant. You hesitated for a moment before leaning forward and kissing him, just gently at first. Your lips brushed against his, and the tension in your chest seemed to dissipate with every second that passed. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t some declaration of love. It was simply the start of something new, something that felt right.

When you pulled back, Heeseung was looking at you with wide eyes, a mix of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place. You stood there, breathing heavily, but you could feel a kind of calm settle over you.

Just as you began to step back, you noticed Sunghoon. His gaze was fixed on you, his expression unreadable. It was like everything stopped for a moment. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by Sunoo, who gasped loudly, catching everyone’s attention. “No way,” he said, eyes wide in surprise. “Did you two—?”

Niki, who had been sitting nearby, scoffed and rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “About time,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I’ve been waiting for this to happen. You two were obvious.”

You turned away quickly, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. But before you could leave the pool area, Sunghoon stood up, walking over to you. His face was tense, his jaw set, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, but he just stood there in front of you, looking like he was searching for the right words.

You swallowed hard, but before you could say anything, Heeseung stood up too, his expression soft but serious. He glanced between you and Sunghoon, sensing the tension in the air.

“I’m not going to stay in the middle of this,” Heeseung said quietly, his voice steady as he gave you one last look before walking away.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” Sunghoon asked, his voice low. There was a hurt in his eyes, something you couldn’t ignore.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, shaking your head. “But I can’t keep pretending like nothing’s changed.”

He seemed to take a step forward, but you quickly turned away, not wanting to deal with the chaos in your chest. You walked out of the pool area, trying to ignore the look on Sunghoon’s face.

As you left, Niki caught up with you, a mischievous smile on his face. “Well, that was interesting,” he said, nudging you with his elbow. “What do you think? You gonna let Heeseung prove he’s the better choice?”

You sighed, unsure how to respond. “I don’t know what’s going to happen,” you muttered, feeling the weight of the decision you just made.

Niki laughed. “You’re a mess, but hey, at least you’re not holding yourself back anymore.”

“I guess so,” you said, smiling a little. For the first time in a long time, it felt like you were moving forward—one step at a time.

As you walked away, your heart was heavy, but there was a sense of clarity in the chaos. The storm inside you hadn’t completely passed, but you were ready to face it.

And for now, that was enough.

As you walked away from the pool, the rain still pouring down in heavy sheets, you could feel the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on you. You didn’t have to turn around to know who was following you—Heeseung’s quiet, steady presence was a comfort in the chaos.

Heeseung caught up with you easily, his voice soft but clear over the sound of the rain. “Hey, do you want to go back to the hotel? I can walk you there.”

You nodded, grateful for the simplicity of his offer. The last few hours had been a whirlwind of emotions, and for once, you didn’t need to make any decisions. You just needed to get away from the noise, to find some calm.

Without another word, Heeseung grabbed an umbrella from the nearby stand, flicked it open with a practiced motion, and held it above the two of you. The sound of the rain hitting the fabric of the umbrella was steady and soothing, muffling everything else around you. The cool air of the night wrapped around you both, but the umbrella kept you dry, offering a small shield from the storm.

You walked side by side, the distance between you and Heeseung closing as you moved in sync. There was a quiet tension in the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like the world had slowed down for just the two of you.

As you walked, Heeseung glanced at you, his expression unreadable at first. Then, slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours lightly. It wasn’t sudden; it wasn’t forced. It was just… natural, the way he interlaced his fingers with yours, as if it was always meant to be that way.

Your heart skipped a beat at the warmth of his hand, a stark contrast to the cold rain that still drenched the earth around you. You didn’t say anything; you didn’t need to. There was something comforting about the simplicity of the gesture, the unspoken connection it brought. His hand felt steady, grounding you in the midst of everything that had happened.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asked quietly, his voice almost lost to the rain.

You nodded, still finding it hard to form words. Your emotions were a tangled mess, but in this moment, with his hand in yours and the sound of the rain all around you, it felt like a small piece of calm.

Heeseung squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing against your skin, the motion almost reassuring. The umbrella kept you both dry, but it was the quiet companionship that truly made you feel safe, like you weren’t facing the world alone.

You continued to walk side by side, hand in hand, not needing to rush, just taking it all in. The path back to the hotel seemed far less daunting with Heeseung beside you. You weren’t sure what the future would bring, whether you’d find answers with Sunghoon or explore what this connection with Heeseung could become.

But for now, with the rain falling softly around you and Heeseung’s hand holding yours, everything felt just a little bit more possible.

Falling into something new with Heeseung wasn’t as simple as flipping a switch. Your heart was still learning how to let go of Sunghoon, still aching in the quiet corners of the night, but Heeseung didn’t rush you. He never asked for more than you were ready to give. And maybe that’s what made it all feel so different—so real.

Heeseung was patient, always showing up without demanding anything in return. He never filled the silences with empty words. He just… existed beside you. And slowly, without realizing it, you started to lean into him.

One morning, a week after returning from Busan, you woke up to a text:

[Heeseung]

I found a café that has those insane croffles you mentioned like a month ago. Wanna go? Also, don’t bring Niki.

Which was hilarious, because the second you stepped out of your apartment, Niki was already waiting on the curb with his hoodie pulled halfway over his face. “Don’t mind me,” he said, sliding into the backseat of Heeseung’s car. “I’m just tagging along as moral support.”

You shot Heeseung a look. He just laughed, not even pretending to be surprised.

Still, the day was warm and soft and good. The café was tucked in a quiet corner of Seoul, with pale wood tables and sleepy music playing overhead. You sat across from Heeseung, the croffle between you two half-eaten, your coffee long forgotten. He had a piece of whipped cream on the corner of his lip, and you reached out without thinking to wipe it off with your thumb.

He blinked, surprised, and your fingers paused for half a second too long. Your heart thudded. So did his.

“Do that again,” he said quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Do what?”

“That thing where you pretend you don’t like me but still touch me like that.”

You blushed, pulling your hand back, and from the booth across the room—because of course he moved to give you “space”—Niki groaned.

“I am LITERALLY right here.”

You and Heeseung burst out laughing, and it didn’t matter that you were still healing. It didn’t matter that pieces of your heart still remembered Sunghoon. Because in that moment, your chest felt light. Real. Like maybe you were learning how to love again.

Later that night, Heeseung walked you back to your door. You talked about the most random things—his fear of horror movies, your obsession with late-night convenience store snacks, the way neither of you understood how Niki functioned on three hours of sleep and energy drinks alone.

He paused at your doorstep, his hands in his pockets. “This is nice, y’know. Just… getting to know you like this.”

You nodded, stepping a little closer. “It is.”

And for a second, it felt like the world slowed. The hurt didn’t vanish. But the hope? That was real.

From somewhere down the hall, you heard Niki yell, “I’m starving! Can we eat now or are you two gonna make me third wheel another soft indie romance scene?”

You both laughed again, and Heeseung nudged your shoulder with his. “Next time, we leave him at home.”

But you weren’t so sure. Maybe Niki was the chaos that kept things grounded—and maybe that was part of what made this new beginning so good.

Slowly, you were figuring it out. Together.

Sometimes, without even realizing it, Sunghoon slipped into your conversations.

It wasn’t on purpose—it never was—but when you were out with Heeseung, trying a new boba place and ordering the same lychee green tea you always did, you’d take a sip and offhandedly say, “Sunghoon used to love this too.”

Or when Heeseung handed you his hoodie because you forgot yours and it was colder than expected, you’d smile softly and mumble, “Sunghoon used to do that for me.”

The words would hang in the air for a moment, a little heavy. Not bitter. Just… real. Honest. And Heeseung never flinched. He never snapped or made a face. He’d just nod quietly, sometimes giving you a small smile like he understood even when he didn’t fully know how it felt.

One time, when you were walking through a bookstore together, you paused in front of a shelf lined with graphic novels. You traced your fingers along the spine of one and whispered, “That one was Sunghoon’s favorite. He’d read it on the way to practice.”

Heeseung watched you carefully. “Do you want to get it?”

You blinked. “What?”

“I mean, if it makes you happy—if it reminds you of something good—then yeah. Let’s get it.”

It made your throat tighten a little. Not because you missed Sunghoon—well, maybe a part of you did—but because Heeseung wasn’t trying to erase your past. He wasn’t trying to compete with it.

He was just… choosing to stand in it with you. To make space for your memories, even if they weren’t about him.

You still caught yourself sometimes, rambling about something Sunghoon used to say or how he always used too much soy sauce when he cooked ramen. But each time, Heeseung would just listen.

And slowly, without pressure or force, you started making new memories. Ones where Heeseung was the one handing you the hoodie. The one sitting beside you with a drink in his hand. The one who didn’t mind being in the shadow of someone else’s history, because he believed in what was building now.

And that meant everything.

It was late—too late for anyone to be awake, but that didn’t stop Niki from barging into Heeseung’s room, plopping down dramatically onto the edge of his bed like he owned the place.

Heeseung, already half-asleep with his phone dimmed on his chest, groaned and cracked one eye open. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

“Nope,” Niki said, folding his arms. “Are you ever gonna talk to Y/N about the whole Sunghoon thing?”

That woke Heeseung up fully. He sat up, blinking at Niki. “What are you even talking about?”

“You know what I mean,” Niki said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re with her, yeah. You guys are cute and all. But she still talks about him sometimes, like it’s muscle memory. And I know it bugs you.”

Heeseung was quiet for a moment, jaw tightening.

Niki leaned back, his voice gentler now. “You act like it doesn’t matter. But come on, hyung. You’re falling for her, aren’t you?”

Heeseung didn’t answer right away. He stared down at the comforter, fingers absently twisting a loose thread.

“I know she’s still healing,” he said finally. “And I don’t want to make her feel guilty for that. She loved him. Maybe she still does. But yeah… it hurts sometimes. Not because she mentions him, but because I’m scared I’ll never be more than a second choice.”

Niki nodded, unusually serious. “Then tell her. Before it starts growing into something ugly.”

Heeseung sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just don’t want to ruin it. Things are finally starting to feel good between us.”

“Then be honest before they feel fake,” Niki said bluntly. “She deserves that. You do too.”

Heeseung stayed quiet, his mind racing. He knew Niki was right.

It wasn’t about competing with Sunghoon. It was about wanting to be seen—really seen—for who he was. Not the rebound. Not the safe option.

Just… Heeseung.

Just three days.

That’s all that was left until their big comeback, and the atmosphere around the boys had completely shifted. You could feel it—even through texts, even from afar. Pressure had replaced the usual excitement. Everyone was stretched thin, especially Heeseung.

From early morning until late at night, he was rehearsing choreography until his legs gave out, re-recording vocals until his throat was raw, attending back-to-back meetings, fittings, and filming content. He told you they barely had time to breathe, let alone think about anything else. And you understood… to an extent.

But still, he’d always found a way to message you. A quick “miss u” or a blurry selfie from the dance studio mirror. Even when he was dead tired, he’d squeeze in a late-night FaceTime call, his voice soft and low, just to say goodnight.

But today? Nothing.

You tried not to overthink it. Told yourself he was probably just too busy. But as the hours ticked by, the silence felt heavier, more unsettling than usual.

Your fingers hovered over your phone for a while before you finally texted him:

you: busy?

You stared at the screen, waiting for the little gray typing bubbles to appear. They didn’t.

You sighed, locking your phone. Maybe he was still in practice. Maybe he didn’t see it. Maybe—

Ping.

You nearly dropped your phone picking it up that fast.

heeseung: yeah, sorry. with the comeback and everything it’s hard to keep up. i promise i’ll call u back later tho.

Your heart lifted slightly—but only for a moment. The message was short, a little rushed, like his head wasn’t really in it. And the “I promise” part? It made you smile faintly. You wanted to believe it.

So you waited.

You stayed up later than usual. Kept checking your phone. Left the ringer on in case you dozed off. You even imagined what he might say—how his voice would sound groggy but warm, how he’d apologize for the delay, maybe tell you about a funny moment during rehearsal or how Jake tripped over a mic cord again.

But nothing came.

No call. No goodnight text. Just silence.

You lay back in bed, phone resting on your chest, staring up at the ceiling as your heart sank just a little. It was happening again. That familiar ache in your chest. That lingering question.

Am I being forgotten?

You didn’t want to think that way. Not with Heeseung. Not after everything.

But it was hard not to.

You turned your phone screen off and rolled to your side, whispering to the dark room, “He probably just fell asleep…”

And even though part of you knew that was true—knew how hard he was working and how exhausted he must be—it didn’t stop the doubt from creeping in.

Because that’s what silence does. It makes room for fear.

And the last time you ignored the silence… it almost destroyed you.

It was almost 1 a.m. and you were still wide awake—heart racing, thoughts spiraling. You knew you were probably overthinking it. You knew how hard Heeseung was working, how demanding every single second of his day must’ve been. But the worry wouldn��t leave you alone. Not after the silence. Not after how things ended with Sunghoon.

So before you could talk yourself out of it, you threw on a hoodie, grabbed your phone, and slipped out of your room.

The dorm building was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came in the middle of the night. You hesitated outside the door, chewing on your lip before finally knocking—soft at first, then a little louder.

It took a minute, but the door creaked open to reveal Jake, his hair a mess, eyes still half-lidded from sleep.

He blinked at you. “Y/N?”

“Hey,” you said softly, shifting on your feet. “I… I’m sorry, I know it’s super late. I just—I needed to see if Heeseung was okay.”

Jake rubbed his face and stepped aside, letting you in without a second thought. “He’s knocked out cold. Been that way since we got back. He literally passed out after his shower.”

You stepped into their dorm, your gaze immediately falling on Heeseung, curled up on his side on the lower bunk, his breathing steady and slow. His hair was still slightly damp. His phone was on the floor, screen dim, unread messages piling up.

You approached him slowly, the weight of your emotions tightening in your chest. You knelt beside the bed, gently brushing your fingers across the blanket near his shoulder.

“Heeseung…” you whispered.

He stirred slightly, eyes fluttering open—barely.

“Y/N…?” His voice was gravelly, laced with exhaustion. “What’re you doing here…?”

“I was worried,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “You didn’t call. I thought maybe something happened.”

He groaned quietly, rubbing his face. “I’m sorry. I… I was gonna call. I just… couldn’t keep my eyes open.”

There was a pause.

“I just—” You swallowed. “Can we talk? I need to tell you something.”

He looked at you through sleep-heavy eyes, and for a second, something in his expression flickered—something that made your chest twist.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” he mumbled. “I promise. I just… I can’t right now.”

You froze. Your fingers curled into your sleeves. His voice wasn’t harsh, just tired—so, so tired. But it hit something inside you anyway.

You forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah… yeah, of course. Get some rest.”

But as you sat there quietly, watching him drift back to sleep, that old, sharp ache returned.

The same ache from when Sunghoon started pulling away. The same words. The same late nights waiting. The same lump in your throat.

And suddenly, you couldn’t help but think:

Is this happening again?

Was he pushing you away too?

You blinked back the sting in your eyes, looking at the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. You told yourself not to jump to conclusions. Not to make this into something it wasn’t.

So you stayed there for a few more minutes in silence—just watching, just breathing—before slowly standing and letting yourself out, whispering a quiet thank you to Jake on your way.

You didn’t let yourself cry until you were alone.

Your phone buzzed around mid-morning, right as you were about to convince yourself that maybe he wouldn’t call. You stared at the screen for a second, blinking at the name lighting it up: Heeseung.

You hesitated, a weird twist in your stomach, before answering. “Hello?”

“Hey,” his voice came through, low and a little groggy. “You free right now?”

You sat back on your bed, pulling your knees up. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about last night,” he said immediately. “I know you came all the way to the dorm to check on me, and I barely gave you anything.”

“It’s okay—” you started, but he cut in gently.

“No, it’s not. I promised to call. I promised to be there. I hate that I made you feel like I wasn’t.” His words were slower than usual, like he was picking each one carefully. “I was just so dead tired, Y/N. I didn’t mean to brush you off. I should’ve handled it better.”

You were quiet for a beat, heart softening at his tone. “I just got scared,” you admitted. “It reminded me of… before. With Sunghoon. The way things slowly started slipping away, and I didn’t even notice until it was too late.”

He was silent for a second, like he was absorbing your words. “I’m not him.”

“I know,” you whispered. “But it’s hard not to be afraid.”

“I get that,” he said, his voice quieter now. “And I don’t blame you. But I meant what I said that night in the rain. I want to be here, Y/N. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”

You exhaled, some of the tightness in your chest loosening. “Okay.”

He smiled softly into the phone. You could hear it in the way his voice brightened just a bit. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Just… don’t disappear on me again, alright?”

“Never,” he promised. “In fact, I’m coming over after practice. And we’re watching whatever cheesy drama you want. I’ll even bring snacks. Jake owes me.”

You laughed, the weight lifting little by little. “Deal.”

And just like that, it felt like the crack in your heart had been seen—and mended, slowly, gently, by someone who didn’t run from it.

You lit the last candle on your desk and took a step back, hands on your hips, admiring your work. The living room was cozy—blankets piled on the couch, pillows fluffed just right, and two mugs already set out beside the bowl of popcorn you’d made earlier. On the screen, the title screen of some ridiculously cheesy drama flickered in wait. You even picked the one with the most over-the-top romance plot, just to make him laugh.

You had even changed into his hoodie—the faded gray one he gave you weeks ago when you said you were cold during a late-night walk. It still smelled like him—clean laundry and something warm and familiar. You pulled the sleeves over your hands, smiling to yourself as you imagined his reaction.

Your phone buzzed on the table. Heart skipping, you rushed over, expecting his classic “on my way” or something equally playful.

But it wasn’t that.

Heeseung:

“Sorry, I have to stay behind. Jake needs help with a certain part of the choreo and we need to nail this before the showcase.”

You stood still, rereading the message over and over again as the hopeful warmth in your chest began to cool. Of course. Of course it was the comeback. Of course it was practice.

You sat down slowly on the couch, the hoodie swallowing your frame as you curled into yourself. You told yourself not to be upset. You told yourself he had every right to stay—this was his dream. His career.

But it still stung.

Because for the first time in a while, you’d really been excited. You thought tonight would be one of those rare nights you got to steal him away from the chaos of rehearsals and bright lights. Just the two of you. Quiet, simple, safe.

Instead, you were back in that space again—canceled plans, late-night excuses, and you trying to remind yourself that you weren’t asking for too much.

You stared at your phone for a second before typing a reply.

You:

“It’s okay. Good luck. Text me when you get home.”

You didn’t hit send right away.

Because deep down, you were wondering—how many more times would you be understanding before you finally broke?

And yet… you still pressed send.

Later that night, around 10 p.m., your phone buzzed with an incoming call. Heeseung’s name flashed on the screen, and for a moment, you stared at it.

You always picked up when he called. You always did, without question. But tonight, it felt different. The movie on your screen, the soft glow of the candles, the empty space beside you—it was all too quiet. And somewhere, in the back of your mind, Sunghoon’s words and actions came crashing back. You didn’t want to deal with it tonight. Not again. Not with Heeseung.

You swiped the notification away, not answering.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzed again. This time, you glanced at the screen and saw the message:

Heeseung:

“I see you’re online.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you looked at it. You knew he would be confused. He’d probably think something was wrong. And maybe something was, but you didn’t want to explain it right now. You didn’t want to get into the mix of everything. You didn’t want to open up the door to feelings you weren’t ready to deal with yet.

So, without another thought, you swiped the screen and turned off your phone. You put it on silent and tossed it onto the couch beside you, trying to focus on the movie. It wasn’t the same without him, without his laughter or commentary about the ridiculous plot twists. But you couldn’t face it, not tonight.

The screen played on, the dialogue becoming white noise as you tried to pull yourself into the world of the movie. The characters’ problems felt trivial in comparison to yours, but for once, you wanted to escape. You let yourself sink further into the couch, the flickering light casting shadows across the room, the rain still drumming against the window.

But even then, a quiet part of you was still waiting for him to call again.

The day of the showcase arrived, but you were far from feeling excited. The members of the group had arrived two hours early to do a run-through, get everything prepared, and check sound levels. You had decided to go help Niki, as he invited you to come and watch. Heeseung had insisted you come to see the showcase with him, but honestly, you weren’t in the mood. You couldn’t shake the frustration from the last couple of days, the confusion, and the emotional turmoil that was wearing you thin.

The thought of seeing Heeseung and trying to act like everything was fine felt like too much. You wanted to distance yourself, but of course, Heeseung wouldn’t let you. After some time, Niki noticed you hadn’t been your usual self, so he let you escape to the back for a while, where you could get away from the chaos.

But as soon as you stepped into the small bathroom, the door clicked behind you. You turned around and froze when you saw Heeseung standing there, leaning against the frame.

“Y/n?” he said quietly.

You exhaled, rolling your eyes. “I’m really not in the mood, Heeseung,” you muttered, trying to walk past him, but he stepped into your path, blocking the door.

“Come on. I didn’t even get to explain last night. I called, but you didn’t pick up,” he said, his voice soft but insistent.

You folded your arms, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. “Oh, so now I’m supposed to give you a break because you’re busy?” you snapped, irritated.

He took a step closer, his gaze softening. “I’m sorry I missed our time together. I really am. But this showcase—everything’s been chaotic. It’s just one thing after another. You knew that when I signed up for this,” he said, but there was a noticeable frustration in his tone.

“And here it is again,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not even listening. You’re so wrapped up in your schedule, your comeback, that I’m just… background noise, aren’t I?”

Heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s always something with you, Heeseung,” you said bitterly. “One missed call becomes six, then ten, and then I’m left wondering why I keep trying.”

The tension between you two felt unbearable. His frustration was starting to match yours. He crossed his arms, the look in his eyes turning sharp. “Is that what this is about? You’re comparing me to him, aren’t you?”

Your stomach churned, but you stood your ground, not wanting to back down. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re still comparing everything to Sunghoon, aren’t you? Every time something goes wrong with us, it all goes back to him,” Heeseung shot back, his voice rising. “Am I just the rebound? Is that all I am to you?”

Your heart dropped, and you shook your head, not knowing how to respond. Heeseung’s voice cracked slightly, frustration seeping through every word. “Why is it that you’re always waiting for me to screw up? So you have an excuse to run back to him?”

You felt your chest tighten, and before you could stop yourself, the words came out in a sharp rush, “I’m not waiting for you to screw up, Heeseung. I’m waiting for you to prove you’re not like him.”

There was silence for a moment. His expression softened, a flash of hurt in his eyes. But then, something in him snapped. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I’m doing everything I can,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “But it’s like you’re not even trying with me.”

You stared at him, your frustration boiling over. “You think I’m not trying? You’re the one who keeps pulling away, Heeseung. You’re the one who can’t make time for me. You’re the one who said you needed a break, remember?” You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out now. “It’s like you’re just waiting for me to give up on you, and I’m not going to do that. But don’t act like I’m the only one pushing away.”

Heeseung took a deep breath, rubbing his temples. He didn’t say anything more. He just stood there, looking defeated.

You took a step back. “Maybe we should just let this go.”

Before Heeseung could respond, you turned on your heel and walked past him, but the sight of Sunghoon standing in the hallway made your heart stop.

You didn’t even notice that Heeseung was following you until you heard his scoffing voice behind you.

“You couldn’t even wait until I left to go back to him? Seriously, Yn?” Heeseung’s words stung.

Sunghoon looked confused, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. “What are you talking about? I just came here to use the bathroom,” he said, his voice calm but his gaze flicking between the two of you.

Heeseung looked between the two of you, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered under his breath before walking off, frustration written all over his face.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say or how to feel. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, and it felt like you were stuck in an endless cycle.

But Sunghoon’s presence made everything more complicated. He gave you a hesitant look, as if waiting for an explanation, but all you could do was take a deep breath and turn away, the emotions too overwhelming to even try and make sense of them right now.

You were caught between two people, two worlds, and no matter what you did, you felt like you couldn’t break free.

The stage was set for their filming, the lights blindingly bright, and the cameras rolling. Heeseung stood at the front, preparing for his part, but there was an obvious tension in his movements. He wasn’t performing like he usually did. Every time he tried to get into the rhythm, something seemed off. His steps were slightly offbeat, his expressions lacking the usual spark. His focus kept flickering, and it was clear his mind wasn’t in the moment.

The manager, who had been quietly observing, let out a long sigh. “Alright, let’s take a short break and try again. Heeseung, we need to get this right,” the manager said, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but trying to remain professional.

Heeseung, looking tired and defeated, nodded. He took a few steps back from the group, his eyes avoiding anyone’s gaze as he leaned against the wall. His mind was clearly elsewhere—everything was just so overwhelming. His mistakes had been piling up, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He wasn’t focused. He wasn’t there.

Meanwhile, you stood off to the side, watching everything unfold. Your heart hurt, seeing him struggle, but you couldn’t ignore the swirling emotions inside you. It felt like Heeseung was slipping through your fingers, but you also weren’t sure how much more of this back-and-forth you could take. It reminded you so much of Sunghoon, and the way things ended with him still haunted you.

As the members took a brief breather, Sunghoon, who had been standing nearby, noticed Heeseung’s frustration. He watched as the younger man let out a deep sigh, rubbing his face as if to shake off the exhaustion that weighed on him.

Sunghoon hesitated for a moment before walking over to him. “Yo, Heeseung,” he started, his voice low but sincere, “I know you’re not like me. You’ve got your own things going on. But listen… losing Yn was the worst thing that happened to me.”

Heeseung blinked, surprised by the sudden honesty. He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Sunghoon. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon leaned against the wall beside him, his expression softening as he spoke. “I’m just saying… I know how much you care about her. And I’ve been there, y’know? I wasn’t always the best to her, and now… I regret it. I know I messed up,” he said, looking down for a moment, a pang of guilt in his voice. “But seeing her pull away, seeing you mess up… it just reminds me of when I kept pushing her away until it was too late.”

Heeseung stood there, processing his words. He had never really thought about it this way. He knew Sunghoon had his regrets, but hearing him say it out loud made everything hit harder.

“I just don’t want to be the guy who loses her too,” Heeseung admitted, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “I can’t help but feel like I’m screwing everything up.”

Sunghoon nodded slowly, his eyes still focused on the floor. “You’ve got to talk to her, man. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

There was silence between them for a few moments, before Sunghoon added, “Just don’t let her slip away, you know?”

Heeseung nodded slowly, but it was clear the weight of it all was taking a toll on him. The thought of losing you, of everything falling apart, was terrifying to him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was afraid—afraid he wasn’t enough for you, that he couldn’t live up to your expectations. But more than that, he was afraid he’d push you away just like Sunghoon had.

Meanwhile, you were standing off to the side, trying to keep yourself together. You overheard parts of their conversation, and it made your heart ache. Sunghoon and Heeseung were both carrying the weight of their past mistakes, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were stuck in the middle. You wanted to move forward with Heeseung, but part of you still couldn’t let go of the past—of Sunghoon.

As the break ended, the manager gave the signal to get back into position. Heeseung took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. The next run-through would be crucial. He couldn’t afford to mess it up again.

He gave Sunghoon a quick nod. “Thanks,” he muttered, before walking back onto the stage, determination back in his eyes.

Sunghoon, still standing near the side, watched him for a moment. He knew how much Heeseung was struggling, but he also knew that the younger man had to figure things out for himself. No one could fix this but him. The only thing Sunghoon could do was let him make the choice—whether it was to move forward or let the same mistakes happen again.

You felt your chest tighten as you watched Heeseung head back onto the stage. You didn’t know what to do anymore. Part of you still wanted to give him a chance, to trust him, but everything about this situation felt like you were walking on a tightrope. Could Heeseung really prove himself to you? Could he truly change and be what you needed him to be?

As the filming resumed, you stayed back, a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. The past, the present, and everything in between—how were you supposed to know what was right?

The practice session went on, and Heeseung was a man on a mission. It was as if a switch had flipped. He was more focused, more precise with his moves. Every step, every beat, everything came together as if the weight of the conversation with Sunghoon had finally broken through the fog in his mind. It was clear to everyone that Heeseung had a renewed energy and determination.

But when practice ended, he looked around the room. The members were gathering their things, chatting with one another, but you were nowhere to be seen. His heart skipped a beat. Panic settled in his chest.

He had barely noticed the rain outside as he rushed toward the door. He pushed through it, and as soon as he stepped outside, the cold rain slapped him in the face. His hair quickly became plastered to his forehead, his clothes drenched from head to toe, but he didn’t care.

He only cared about one thing: you.

He ran through the rain, not caring that he was getting soaked. The sound of the rain pounding against the ground was deafening as he searched for you. It was only when he saw you walking down the street, hunched over, that his feet finally stopped.

“Yn!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the storm.

You turned around, your face a mixture of exhaustion and frustration. “What do you want, Heeseung?” Your voice was quiet, as though the rain had drowned it out.

Heeseung rushed toward you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Please… wait up.”

He came to a stop in front of you, rain running down his face, dripping off his chin. His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced with an air of desperation.

“Let’s talk. Please,” he said, trying to catch his breath. He reached out, but you took a step back, not wanting to be too close to him. The air between you both was thick with tension.

You were silent for a long moment, not knowing what to say, still upset by everything that had happened. The last time you’d been in the rain, things had ended in heartbreak. You couldn’t shake the feeling of déjà vu. This moment—this scene—felt all too familiar, like you were caught in a loop, trapped in the past.

Heeseung, noticing the hesitation, took a step forward, his voice softer this time. “I know I made mistakes, Yn. And I’m sorry for that. But you have to admit, you messed up too.”

His words were like a punch to the gut. You narrowed your eyes, frustration bubbling up again. “What are you talking about?”

Heeseung swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wasn’t perfect. I know that. But you shut me out. You shut us out, and I couldn’t reach you. You kept comparing me to him,” he said, voice cracking slightly, his vulnerability showing. “I’m not him, Yn. I’m not gonna be perfect, but I want to try. I’m not just some guy you go back to when everything falls apart.”

The rain pelted down around you, the water now splashing up on your shoes, but you barely noticed. The words echoed in your mind—comparisons to Sunghoon. It felt like you were trapped in a loop again, back at the starting line. It reminded you of how Sunghoon had said something so similar, so long ago.

“I wasn’t trying to compare you to him, but I don’t know how else to feel,” you said, frustration building in your chest. “You can’t expect me to just forget everything that’s happened. It’s not that simple, Heeseung.”

He took another step forward, his expression pleading. “I know it’s not simple. But I want you to give me a chance. I’m not asking for everything right now. I just want to prove that I can be what you need.”

You stood there, soaking in the rain, your heart beating fast. The same feelings from before—the ones you thought you’d buried—came rushing back. It was impossible to forget the past, impossible to ignore everything that had happened with Sunghoon, but here Heeseung was, standing in front of you, asking for another chance.

For a moment, all you could hear was the pounding rain, the noise around you blending with the chaos inside your head. The déjà vu feeling only intensified. It felt like the storm, both outside and within you, would never stop.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

Heeseung’s face softened, the rain dripping down his face like the words he was about to say. “I understand. I don’t know what to do either, but I want to try. I want to try with you, Yn. You’re not just some memory for me to hold onto. You’re someone I care about.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. He was standing in front of you, so raw, so honest. You didn’t want to let him in, but a part of you—despite everything—wanted to.

The tension hung in the air, but it wasn’t the same as before. It wasn’t just heartbreak and confusion. This time, it felt like you were standing at a crossroads.

“I’m not asking for you to trust me right away, but please—don’t shut me out completely. Let me prove that I’m not him. Let me be something for you,” Heeseung said, his voice thick with sincerity.

You looked at him, drenched in the rain, his eyes full of sincerity. The same feelings you had for him were still there, deep down. You could feel it in your chest, a warmth that flickered despite everything. It was still there.

And maybe, just maybe, Heeseung was worth taking a chance on.

The rain poured heavily around you both, the cold water splashing at your feet as Heeseung took another step closer. His face, drenched from the downpour, reflected the sincerity in his eyes. His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced by something softer, something more vulnerable. The sound of the rain almost drowned out the silence between you, but his words cut through it like a sharp knife.

“I know I made mistakes, Yn,” he said quietly, his voice full of regret. “But you have to admit, you messed up too. I wasn’t perfect, but neither were you.”

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening with frustration. “What are you talking about?” you muttered, eyes narrowing as you tried to process his words.

“I’m not trying to blame you for everything,” Heeseung continued, his tone softer this time. “But every time we try to move forward, it feels like we’re stuck in the past. You keep comparing me to him. Sunghoon. And I can’t keep carrying that weight. I’m not him, Yn. I’m not going to be him.”

You stood still, the rain drenching your hair and clothes, but you barely noticed. The comparisons to Sunghoon were still so fresh in your mind. “You think I’m comparing you to him?” you snapped, your voice trembling. “You don’t get it. It’s not about comparisons. It’s about trust and not being hurt again.”

Heeseung took another step closer, now standing just inches away from you. His expression softened as he took in your words, but there was a certain desperation in his eyes—something that mirrored your own fear. “I know it’s hard. I know I hurt you. But please, don’t give up on me. I want to try, Yn. Please…”

You swallowed again, caught in the intensity of his gaze. Your heart raced, conflicting emotions flooding your chest. But what he said next, the words that came from his lips, made everything feel like it was happening in slow motion.

“Please, baby,” Heeseung said, his voice barely above a whisper, but the way it rolled off his tongue made your heart skip a beat.

The words hit you like a wave, crashing over your senses. “Baby?” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly as the heat rushed to your face. He had never called you that before. The sudden term of endearment made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected. The warmth spread across your skin, and you flushed deeply, unsure of how to react.

Heeseung saw your reaction immediately, the slight pink tint in your cheeks not going unnoticed. His eyes softened even more, and he stepped closer, taking your hand gently in his. “I’ve never said that before, I know. But I just… I want you to know how much I care about you.”

You looked down at your hand in his, your pulse pounding in your ears. The rain continued to pour, but it almost felt like the world had slowed down, like nothing mattered except the two of you standing there in the storm.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The words were caught in your throat. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t that simple, that you couldn’t just erase everything that had happened, but when you looked into his eyes, something shifted inside you.

Heeseung squeezed your hand gently. “Please, just give me a chance,” he repeated, his voice now a low murmur. “I’ll prove to you I’m not him. I’ll show you I’m not like Sunghoon. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

The sincerity in his words, the desperation mixed with hope, made something in you stir. You couldn’t deny the pull you still felt for him, the feelings that had never fully gone away.

But there was still doubt, still fear of repeating the past.

“I don’t want to hurt anymore, Heeseung,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain. “I don’t want to keep going through this.”

“I know,” he replied quietly, his hand still holding yours. “And I don’t want to hurt you either. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to show you that I’m different. Just don’t walk away from me.”

His eyes searched yours, his face full of concern and sincerity. You could see how much he meant it—how much he wanted you in his life. The vulnerability he was showing, the way he was pleading with you, felt different than anything you had experienced before.

And for the first time in a long while, you let go of the fear. You let go of the comparisons and the past, and allowed yourself to feel something new, something that wasn’t about the pain of the past.

You didn’t know if you were ready, but you could feel the connection between you both again. Maybe, just maybe, you could let him in again.

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you both, and Heeseung’s eyes softened as he took a step closer too. You didn’t need to say anything more. The rain continued to fall around you, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. You felt something shift. Something real.

“Okay,” you whispered softly, looking into his eyes, and in that moment, you knew you were willing to give him a chance.

Heeseung smiled, the tension leaving his body, and without another word, he reached up to brush a wet strand of hair out of your face. His thumb gently caressed your cheek, and as the rain fell around you both, he leaned in just slightly.

“I promise I won’t mess this up,” he murmured, and you knew—this time, it might be different.

And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe it.

Heeseung’s hand remained gently on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as his gaze held yours. The rain still poured around you, but there was an undeniable warmth between the two of you that seemed to make the cold and wetness irrelevant. He smiled softly, the tension in his face fading as he spoke.

“I’ll have more time now,” he said quietly, almost as if he was reassuring himself as much as you. “The comeback’s almost done, and I won’t let work get in the way of us again. I know I’ve been busy, but I want to make up for that. I’ll be here.”

His words settled over you, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice. It wasn’t the first time he had promised something like this, but something about the way he said it now, in the midst of everything, made you feel like he was finally understanding what mattered. He was ready to prioritize you, and that meant more than any past apology or promise.

You smiled faintly, your heart fluttering in your chest. You couldn’t help but feel a little giddy, especially when you remembered the way he looked on stage earlier, under the lights, his presence commanding the room. It was hard not to notice how incredible he looked, how he seemed to own the stage in a way that left you breathless.

“You looked really good on stage,” you admitted, your voice a little softer than usual. The words left you before you could stop them, and as soon as you said them, your face warmed slightly. You weren’t sure why, but admitting it to him felt oddly vulnerable, like you were letting him in even more.

Heeseung’s smile widened, and you could see the gratitude in his eyes. “Really?” he asked, his voice teasing now, but there was a hint of pride behind it. “You think I looked good? I’ve been practicing for days. Guess it paid off.”

You nodded, unable to hide the admiration you felt. “You were amazing. The whole performance was. You definitely killed it.”

Heeseung chuckled softly, leaning in slightly closer, his eyes scanning your face as if trying to gauge your reaction. “You know, I’ve been waiting to hear that from you,” he admitted, his voice lower now, a playful edge to it. “It means a lot to me. Thanks for saying it.”

You shrugged, feeling a little shy under his gaze, but also warm inside. “You earned it.”

There was a pause between you both as the rain continued to fall, the sound of it pattering against the pavement filling the space. Heeseung’s hand slipped from your cheek, his fingers brushing down to gently hold your hand again.

“I’m glad you were here to see it,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I know I’ve messed up in the past, but I want to make sure I don’t mess up with you again.”

You squeezed his hand in return, feeling the weight of his words. You didn’t know what the future held, but in this moment, you felt hopeful, something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in a while.

“I know you won’t,” you whispered, the words carrying more meaning than you had intended. There was still a long way to go, but you weren’t as scared anymore. Maybe things were different this time. Maybe they could work.

The rain kept falling, but somehow, it felt like the storm between you both had passed.

As the days went on, things between you and Heeseung slowly began to improve. The weight of the past still lingered, but both of you were trying, in your own ways, to move forward. It wasn’t perfect — there were still moments when he got caught up in his schedule, and moments when you felt like the old hurt resurfaced — but for the most part, you found yourselves learning how to navigate this new chapter together.

One evening, you found yourself walking alongside him again, the air crisp with the promise of autumn. The streets were quieter than usual, the faint buzz of city lights shimmering in the distance. As you strolled side by side, there was a comfortable silence between you, the kind that didn’t feel awkward but instead felt like you were both in sync again.

Heeseung suddenly pulled out a pack of gum from his pocket, the crinkling sound of the wrapper catching your attention. You glanced over, noticing the familiar mint-green packaging. It was the same brand that Sunghoon used to carry everywhere. The same one he’d offer you whenever you’d go on long drives or have late-night practices together.

The thought hit you like a wave, and you had to swallow the sudden rush of memories that threatened to bubble up. It wasn’t that you missed Sunghoon — not anymore — but those small, familiar things still had a way of creeping back into your mind.

You could feel Heeseung’s eyes on you, waiting for your reaction as he popped a piece of gum into his mouth. You wanted to say something, ask if he’d noticed the connection too, but you bit your tongue. This was a new beginning, and you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. It was just a pack of gum. He didn’t need to know that it reminded you of someone else.

You pushed the thought away and smiled at him instead. “You always have gum on you.”

Heeseung chuckled, taking another piece for himself. “It’s a habit. I’ve got to keep my breath fresh for when I’m talking to you.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly at his words, but you decided not to comment. It felt nice to have these little moments with him. No grand gestures, no dramatic confessions. Just simple, quiet moments where you could exist together without the weight of expectations.

The walk continued, with the occasional teasing and gentle nudges, but there were still moments of silence too — and in those moments, it was clear that you both knew the other was thinking. Thinking about how things were still a little fragile, a little uncertain, but also undeniably real.

And yes, there were moments when things didn’t go as smoothly as you both had hoped. You still had your disagreements. Maybe he didn’t always understand your perspective, or maybe you misunderstood his actions. Maybe there were times when he was too busy, and you were too sensitive. You had your fights, even if they were small, over things that felt petty in the end. But, in some strange way, it was part of how your relationship worked.

You didn’t need to be perfect. You didn’t need to fix everything at once. You both had flaws, but what mattered was that you were learning to see those flaws as part of the whole person, not something that needed to be fixed.

In those arguments, you realized that you didn’t want everything to be easy. You didn’t want a relationship without challenges. After all, it was those challenges that made the good moments feel even better. Every time you fought and then made up, it felt like you were both growing in ways that mattered, in ways that were important to the both of you.

Eventually, the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, and you found yourselves sitting on a bench near a quiet park, just enjoying each other’s company. The air was cool, but it didn’t matter. You were with him, and that was all that mattered right now.

Heeseung leaned back, looking up at the sky as he let out a deep breath. “I’m really glad we’re doing this,” he said, voice softer than usual.

You looked at him, feeling a soft warmth spread through your chest. “Me too,” you admitted, your hand brushing against his. You didn’t need to say more. Words weren’t necessary at that moment.

In a way, it felt like things were coming together, piece by piece. There was still so much to figure out, but for the first time in a long while, you felt hopeful about what was to come.

“Let’s just keep going,” you said, voice steady. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

Heeseung smiled, a quiet, sincere smile that made your heart flutter. “Yeah. We will.”

And just like that, you both sat there, hands intertwined, watching as the night sky wrapped around you.

@sheseung

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heechwe · 4 hours ago

Text

MISS AMERICANA | 박성훈

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 (𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐖𝐄'𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍)

⟢ PAIRING: park sunghoon x fem!reader ⟢ WORD COUNT: 9.8K ⟢ GENRE: angst with a happy ending, smut ⟢ TAGS: basketballplayer!sunghoon, cheerleader!reader, college au, lovers to exes to lovers, pet names (baby, doll, etc), fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex ⟢ SYNOPSIS: Fed up with Sunghoon's attitude and petty games, you move on, hopefully to something better. Why did he have to realize how important you were to him once you were already gone? -ˋˏ✄┈┈ AUTHOR'S NOTE: This second chapter (as well as the first) has been rewritten to be set in a university rather than the high school setting for obvious reasons. I apologize for not writing it this way originally, and I hope the rewritten version is just as enjoyable as the original was ♥︎.

𝑫𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑴𝑩𝑬𝑹

Sunghoon could have made the winning shot if it weren’t for the praise that was placed on someone else for so long. Lee Heeseung was the best shooting guard Sunghoon’s university had ever seen; anyone with talent and passion for the sport could see that. At the same time, Sunghoon made a lot of calls as the small forward that were imperative to the success of the team. From scoring to handling the ball, he could do it all and then some.

If only the captain, the old fart, saw that. And Heeseung, the sanctimonious prick, appreciated him more.

Sunghoon is so wrapped up in his bitter thoughts he can barely focus on your lips attached to his neck and your legs around his waist. Despite the cramped space in the driver's seat, you managed to fit on Sunghoon's lap and straddle him. In the dark of night, only the two of you parked on the basketball court by the river, you gave him copious reminders of what the most important thing in his life was outside of winning the championship.

Sunghoon usually spent times like these celebrating with his other teammates, but something was sitting in the front of his mind like a fly he couldn’t swat. You can tell in the furrow of his brows and his scrunched-up mouth. He may not be able to focus on going out and drinking, but it was a benefit to you. Maybe he would finally spend some time with you like he used to.

“Heeseung acts like everyone should worship the ground he walks on. Yeah, he won the game tonight, so what? I could score as many baskets as him if I wanted. And I’ve played as many games as his ass and won. Even once when I had chicken pox.” Sunghoon continues on his rant, unbothered by your mouth and hands on him. You run both of your palms inside of his jersey and feel the skin of his abs underneath your fingers, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge.

“I think you did great, who cares?” You mumble into his neck, focused on making him feel pleasure rather than irritation. You move Sunghoon’s hands to cup your backside, the cheer shorts under your skirt riding up to expose your upper thighs.

“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles, eyes looking past you and towards the window.

“What do you mean ‘whatever’?” You pull away from him to look into his eyes. He’s a million miles away, not bothering to pay attention to your impending frustration. His only concerns are himself and his feelings. “Seriously, get over this attitude and talk to me if you’re not gonna at least act interested.”

Sunghoon lets out a frustrated groan and pushes you back into the passenger seat. You yelp in the process, barely landing on your ass. “What the fuck, Hoon?”

“Don’t you see I’m upset and maybe I don’t want to spend another night making out?”

“Another—“ You huff out a breath, shocked at his audacity. “When was the last time we actually spent quality time together?” Before Sunghoon can answer with a basic response, you interrupt him. “And by ‘quality time,” I don’t mean with the guys or Jongseong in attendance.”

“That’s not fair.” Sunghoon tries to hit you with his signature pout, but you don’t budge.

“What’s not fair is that I’m supposed to be your girlfriend but all you care about is huffing and puffing about basketball, complaining about not being the captain, or being a huge jackass.”

“If that’s all I do, then why the fuck are you still around?” Sunghoon bites back, venom dripping from every word.

You look at him with wide eyes, seeing him clearly for the first time in months. After the latter half of the year you’ve been together being a disappointment of epic proportions, the veil finally lifted. Sunghoon does have a point. What are you still doing with him?

“You know what? You’re right.” You exit Sunghoon’s Denali with a grunt and fix your makeup, not letting the tears that threaten to escape fall from your cheeks.

“What are you doing now?”

“You’re right. I’m not gonna waste my time anymore. I’m done.” You slam the passenger door closed and begin your walk from the basketball court to your sorority house, determined not to look back. If he wanted to be that way, then you deserved better.

You hear the slow, incoming huff of Sunghoon’s car, and he rolls the window down to continue your conversation. His lips are in a thin line, his annoyance at an all-time high but now directed completely at you. He says, “So I guess I’ll call you when you’re not so hormonal?”

“Don’t bother. Just fuck off, Sunghoon.”

He nods his head with an angry smirk and rolls the window back up. In a sudden screech, his car races down the empty street, leaving you alone in the night to cry. You weep not just for the future you saw with him coming to a sudden end, but for the past Sunghoon who you believed would never treat you this way now.

You shut your laptop closed with an angry hand, a resounding slam filling the classroom. Your professor has his attention on Candy Crush rather than the impending gossip of the surrounding strangers. They flinch in response and whisper, some unsure why the head cheerleader is in such a mood today.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Sunghoon are done,” one of them speaks in a hushed tone.

“Damn. And right after his win? Heartless,” another says with the click of their tongue.

“How about you guys mind your fucking business?” You spit the words in their direction with force before walking out the classroom door, already done with your work for the day and nobody who cares actually bothered you’re leaving.

As if anyone knows anything about your relationship or how it ended. The vipers are always ready to strike when a new hint of gossip comes around, no matter who gets hurt in the process.

To add salt to the wound, Sunghoon saunters up to you and tries to wrap his arm around your shoulder. You shrug him off with a tired grunt.

Many times before you had fought and made up as if the day prior never happened, all smiles and no tears in sight. But you’re tired of the same game you always played with each other. You think to yourself about the way he spoke to you two days ago, and how you would tell any other friend they deserve better.

And you definitely deserve better than that.

“Are you still mad?” Sunghoon asks with a whine. Typically, his childlike voice would make you laugh. Right now, you just feel vomit in the back of your throat.

“I’m not mad. We’re over.” You speak with a defeated but definitive tone, the end of your sentence falling into a whisper.

What’s the point of fighting anymore? With an outside perspective you did not have previously, you realized how exhausting it was going up and down with someone you were supposed to love.

Sunghoon doesn’t keep up with you, somehow understanding from the resignation in your voice and simple response that, as far as you were concerned, you were done with him.

“Goddamnit,” you curse, trying to make the lighter flick to life. For all the times you tried coaxing a flame from the device, it would not budge. First you had to deal with the onslaught of rumors circulating about your sudden breakup, and now you could barely get a lighter to work. Why did Mondays always have to be so awful?

Exhausted, you throw the pack of cigarettes and lighter into the open air. Both objects fall somewhere onto the football field, but you barely notice. You’re too focused on the tears in your eyes and the sobs that leave your mouth to pay attention to anything else.

You know it’s pathetic to sit on the bleachers and cry by yourself about the breakdown of your relationship, but the cyclone of emotions didn’t ask for permission when it hit you. It just did, violently and with little care for your wellbeing. You’re just glad to have the quiet time now to deal with the storm by yourself.

Or so you thought.

Someone walks up to you with both your cigarettes and lighter in his hands. Bang Chan, head quarterback for the football team, smiles at you when you look up in his direction. He steps back an inch when he notices your puffy eyes and red face. “Sorry,” he says. “Just saw you…lost these…and didn’t know if you wanted them back or not.”

You shake your head. “Throw them out if you want.”

Chan releases a surprised sigh. “Didn’t expect a cheerleader to smoke tobacco.”

His insight makes a smile appear on your lips in spite of the tears. “I never have. I just thought since I kicked one bad habit, why not replace it with another one?”

Chan laughs. He sits down next to you, but stays mindful of your space. “Sunghoon, right?”

You nod, his name a pit in your stomach. “You know him?”

“Just his reputation. Basketball guys can be real assholes.”

“And what about football players?” You counter. “You’re all just perfect angels?”

“Well, we prefer to call ourselves ‘realists’.” You share a laugh with him, relieved to feel something other than apathy or misery. It’s been so long since you’ve been around a guy who didn’t make you doubtful of yourself. Why not enjoy it?

You give Chan your name, but he tells you he was well aware of your presence before. “I mean, you cheer at our games too, y’know, so you’re hard not to notice.”

You blush, your puffy face suddenly red from the comment. “Well, you’re hard not to notice too, Chan.”

Maybe the future for you and Sunghoon had not played out the way you intended, but your future overall could still be pretty great.

𝑱𝑨𝑵𝑼𝑨𝑹𝒀

Sunghoon feels pretty out of place every year once the end of the basketball season comes around. Now that he’s single, he wonders what could fill his spare time in a meaningful way. Besides academics, he comes up empty with ideas.

He wouldn’t have chosen to be broken up with, but what else could he have done? He wouldn’t grovel, not when you were the one making a big deal out of one fight. Eventually, you would come to your senses and come back. You both loved each other too much not to resolve the situation, even if weeks had rolled by with no communication.

Sunghoon is walking with Jay to the gym when he sees you chatting with Chan, all smiles and body too close to the meathead for Sunghoon’s comfort. Jay notices how tense his friend becomes seeing both you and Chan together, shoulders rigid and jaw tight.

“Would it be so bad if you just apologized? Even if you think you didn’t do anything wrong—”

“I know I didn’t,” Sunghoon cuts in, pissed off at the situation he’s in. How did Chan have any right to pull the charm out now that you’re available? It makes the blood inside of Sunghoon’s veins boil to a scorching temperature.

“You love her, man. Stop trying to be nonchalant about your feelings.”

The notification bell for Sunghoon’s next class rings, and Jay says his goodbyes as he heads inside the gym. Sunghoon feels the muscles in his body twitch seeing you walk away with Chan, arm in arm like you’re the closest of friends.

Writing memos for each professor in the Religious Studies department proves to be difficult when your best friend Wonyoung talks the entire time, her voice projecting to a high shrill. She may be a great cheerleader, but a distracting person to do a work-study program with. You manage to write while listening to her impassioned speech, but you stop altogether when the subject comes to you and Chan.

“When is he going to ask you out already? Everyone sees the way he looks at you.” Wonyoung bats her eyelashes with a suggestive smirk, and you thwack her away with your notepad.

“We’re just friends. And I’m not trying to date anyone right now.”

“Come on. It’s been three weeks. Nobody would blame you for putting yourself back out there.”

The intercom blares to life, and you hear your name and the request to be seen by Professor Sung, the head of the department, in his office. You take your belongings in case the request involves some sort of emergency, your thoughts racing as you head towards Sung’s door some paces away.

When you make it to the room, all you see is Sunghoon with his back against Sung’s desk, grinning ear to ear. You’re both alone for the first time since you broke up, and the awkwardness you feel is suffocating.

“Did you do this?” You ask, eyes rolling at his nonchalant posture.

“His TA owed me a favor.” His eyes are vulnerable suddenly, the cloud of indifference shredding a touch. “Besides, I wanted to see you.”

Those words would’ve made you melt a long time ago, the early days of your relationship marked with gestures like this and sweet nothings leaving his lips. Now, you feel so far from the girl you were when you broke up with him.

“Well I want to get this work done, so if you’ll excuse me—“

“Wait, wait, please.” He rushes to stop you from leaving the tiny office, his arm firm against the door in front of you.

“Sunghoon, this is not—“

“Please, just hear me out.”

You cross your arms and straighten your posture into a firm stance, looking directly in his eyes while waiting for the usual speech to leave his mouth.

You know you’re the only one I want.

“You know you’re the only one I want.”

My intention is never to fight with you.

“My intention is never to fight with you.”

All I want is to work this out, please.

“All I want is to work this out, please.”

You can’t help the broken laugh that leaves your lips, or the well of tears that build up behind your lashes. It’s both heartbreaking and comical that he thinks after weeks of nothing to show for his sudden humility, his half-baked, used-up monologue is the best way to mend your problems.

“Is that it?” you ask, deadpan.

Sunghoon stutters, suddenly at a loss for words. “What do you mean?”

“I mean is that all you want to say? ‘Cause if it is, then—”

“Why are you being like this?” His pleading tone suddenly becomes one of irritation. He’s not used to you putting up a fight, and now that you are, he doesn’t know how to handle it, like a toddler who can’t find their toy.

That’s all you were to him at the end of the day. A shiny doll to play with and discard when the circumstances didn’t suit him.

“I’m being like this because this is nothing new. And in another couple of days, it’ll be the same problems and the same excuses. It’s gotten old.” You walk out of the door, but hold it open just a touch to give him the last piece of your mind.

“You know what the worst part is, Sunghoon?” Clearing your throat does you no good; you cannot conceal the pain in your voice. “You didn’t even say you want me back because you love me.”

“Of course I love you!”

“Why? Why do you love me?” You throw your hands up at him, voice in tatters from how loud you’re screaming.

His response is exactly what you expected: nothing. No words come to mind or are adequate enough to describe the depth of his feelings for you, or lack thereof.

“That’s what I thought,” you say before walking away. If those are the last words you ever say to him, you’re glad you got them off of your chest.

The Gamma Nu Spring Formal was all the talk of Sunghoon’s friends and their girlfriends once the date of the dance was announced. It was two months away, yet the hallways and classes were already littered with hearts and pink banners courtesy of the sorority. Dance proposals were rampant, some even going viral on the university’s social media accounts.

It made Sunghoon sick to his stomach.

Four days ago, he thought he could win you back, but it only made you run further away from him. Was he that predictable? And what did that meathead Chan have now that Sunghoon suddenly didn’t?

Playing video games with the guys and Heeseung’s girlfriend in attendance, he hoped it would take his mind off of things. But seeing his off-and-on adversary and partner loved up in the corner of Jake’s room didn’t help. The fraternity Jake belonged to sported a “DUDES ONLY” sign on their door. Why did Heeseung’s girlfriend have to be around?

Sunghoon looks at the two of them laughing in each other’s arms and remembers the feeling of your body in his, the first weeks of dating being some of the best of his life. The quick texts during class, the impromptu kisses in his car before saying goodnight, and the secret drives to the beach on the weekends. He remembers them all, even if his cold nature made you think he had forgotten them with a cruel ease.

The memories pain his heart, and the image of a happy couple still basking in their newfound love does nothing but twist the knife.

“Can you guys not be all over each other in front of us? It’s disgusting.” Sunghoon remarks with sarcasm as he shoots one of Jake’s CPUs down. His friend grunts and tries to take out a person on Sunghoon’s team to even the playing field.

Heeseung’s girlfriend quirks an eyebrow, still focused on her boyfriend but ready to throw a comeback Sunghoon’s way. “Aw, someone’s jealous, isn’t he?”

Her saying the words out loud causes the entire room to go quiet. The only sounds come from the TV and automated game dialogue.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sunghoon responds, his voice at a new low.

“Hey man. Watch how you speak to my girlfriend,” Heeseung interrupts, ready to jump from the beanbag he’s sitting in to put his teammate in his place.

His girlfriend places a tender hand on his forearm. “I got this, Hee.” She turns her attention back to Sunghoon, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. “I meant exactly what I said. Your girlfriend was tired of you being a complete prick to everyone, including her.”

Heeseung says his girlfriend’s name in warning, knowing she’s gone a bit too far, no matter how true her words are.

She doesn’t stop though, and Sunghoon is too shocked to form a sentence. “And seeing anyone else happy makes you realize how bad you fucked up and why she was right to drop you.”

Jake makes a face at her too, silently pleading for an end to the fight before more things are said that can’t be taken back.

Sunghoon throws the controller at the TV stand, the device breaking once it hits the wood. Jake and Heeseung curse at him for his reaction, but Sunghoon storms out of the bedroom before he lets his anger go any further.

He sits on the stairs in front of his friend’s house and feels the prick of tears in his eyes. It’s rare for him to allow himself to be vulnerable. The only person in his life who saw him this way was you, and without you, he doesn’t know how to pull himself back from the precipice. Was what Heeseung’s girlfriend said true? Were you right to leave him? Did he not deserve any more chances to do right by you, given how many times he fucked it up before, no matter how much he loved you?

In spite of everything he’s done wrong, he still does. He loves your fire, the stubbornness that mirrors his own so perfectly. He loves your crude sense of humor, the way you can make a joke out of anything, even in the worst of times to make him laugh. And he loves your sweetness, your capability to think of others before yourself, something he’s never been good at and always admired about you even if he never said it. He never said a lot of things he should’ve.

The questions and regrets flood his brain and make him wish he had a time machine. He would go back to the last hour you were together before everything fell apart. To be happy to have you in his arms and grateful to still hold your respect, your effort, and your love.

He hears someone walk up to him, but he doesn’t look. He’s too tired to turn his head. “I’ll apologize later, okay, Jake? I don’t need a lecture right now.”

The feminine grumble makes Sunghoon turn his head, not expecting to see Heeseung’s girlfriend behind him.

“I came to apologize to you.”

Sunghoon looks back to the street in front of him. He avoids prolonging the argument altogether and nods his head. “It’s fine. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Doesn’t mean it was okay.” She settles down on the stairs next to him. Sunghoon wiggles further towards the railing to make room for her. “Everyone deserves a chance to make things right. Even if they’ve been wrong a lot of the time.”

He discreetly wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “Even someone like me?”

She chuckles. “Especially someone like you.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Sunghoon doesn’t need to say the multitude of reasons she deserves an apology. But it makes the aggression between the both of them, and a fragment of the guilt in Sunghoon’s heart, dissipate. All that’s left is relief.

She grins, the same feelings clear in her expression. “Apology accepted.”

Sunghoon lets a small smile appear on his lips. He has to practice apologizing more often; the feeling of making amends is pretty satisfying.

𝑭𝑬𝑩𝑹𝑼𝑨𝑹𝒀

“Wonyoung, I don’t know where it is!” You say into the receiver of your phone, one hand holding the device to your face as the other rifles through the belongings in your car. “And I doubt your bracelet is in here.”

“It has to be! I can’t think of any other place it could’ve gone,” she whines, sniffling. It isn’t her fault she’s home sick today, but she would get through her cold just fine without her lucky bracelet. As far as she’s concerned, however, it’s a matter of life and death.

“I’m sure we’ll find it so you can get over this cold,” you coddle her, still searching past the books and bags of snacks in the passenger seat.

“I don’t care about that!” Her stuffy, squeaky voice makes you move the phone away from your ear. “I need it for the charity auction. How else are we going to get all of the items sold if I don’t have it?”

You roll your eyes, grateful she can’t see. “Just wow the student body with your impeccable charm.”

“Yeah yeah, have you found it yet?”

As you continue your search, an array of your belongings tumble out of your glove-box. You curse and bend down to pick the contents up. Most of them are of no consequence, but one makes you stop cold.

Wonyoung’s words fade into the background as you hold up the photo strip of you and Sunghoon. The snapshots captured a perfect moment in time before the last six months of your relationship made everything take a turn for the worst.

“You can’t flip off the camera, Hoon!” You giggle as the timer starts for the next picture.

“It’s our pictures, so I have every right to use my middle finger whenever I want.” He nestles his head further into your neck, kissing the spot below your ear. You may be cramped sitting on Sunghoon’s lap in the photo booth of the arcade, but there’s no other place you’d rather be than with him.

As you laugh at his subsequent joke, the shutter goes off again.

“Your laugh is one of my favorite sounds, you know.” Sunghoon moves stray hairs away from your face, smiling ear to ear.

“That’s funny,” you say with a smirk. “That smile is my favorite thing ever.”

“Fuck off.” Sunghoon suddenly becomes shy, his cheeks turning pink.

“I swear, cross my heart.” You raise your hand in salute, and Sunghoon intertwines your fingers with his own.

As you seal your promise with a tender kiss to his lips, you hear the final click of the camera, content with whatever comes next.

You muffle your mouth with your hands, stifling the sob that started to leave your lips.

“Babe, you alright?” Wonyoung asks, another sniffle ending her question.

“Yeah I-I’m okay.” You shake off your sadness and stuff the photo strip in your locker again, half-determined to throw it in the trash nearby. “I gotta go, lunch is gonna be over in like fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. Just let me know later if you find it somewhere. Love you,” Wonyoung says at the end of the call.

Putting your phone in your back pocket and walking back towards the student food court, you hear the rustle of hands clapping and feet stomping. Everyone, like you, looks towards the sounds.

The football team, all huddled up, begins chanting once you make it closer to the main tables.

“Hey girl, you need a date. Why not make it #8?” They say the words in a morale-boosting rhythm, repeating them with vigor until other tables around them chant too. When the huddle opens at the center, Chan appears with a bouquet and a huge grin.

The team stops as soon as he’s in front of you, Chan shy but determined. Once he gives you the bouquet, he asks, “Wanna be my date to the formal?”

You hide your face in your hands, a wide grin on your face despite your sudden bashfulness. Public proposals were never your thing, but with how much effort the guy put into the surprise, how could you say no?

“I’d love to,” you answer, giving him a hug as the crowd around you hollers in support. You’re grateful to have had Chan these past months while dealing with your heartbreak. It seemed to be a natural progression of your relationship. And while nothing’s set in stone, you’re happy something’s on the horizon for you.

But if you’re so happy, why is Sunghoon the first thing that pops into your head after you agree to Chan’s offer?

Thankfully, Wonyoung’s bracelet was in fact in your car, just underneath your driver’s seat where you didn’t think to look. The mystery of how it ended up there remained, but hopefully, she wouldn't freak out any longer about the charity auction next week.

In honor of Valentine’s Day, the university allowed the cheerleading team to host a charity auction every year for a local nonprofit. This year was for the city’s homeless shelter. You worked there last summer to accumulate volunteer hours, and the people you met there had been on your mind every day since. Your goal was to make at least two thousand dollars, but you wish you could do more for them besides a fundraiser. It was important to give back to others when you had so much and took it for granted. Some knew that better than others.

While printing pamphlets and auction tickets, your doorbell rang. You didn’t expect Wonyoung to be up to seeing anyone given her unwell state earlier on the phone, but it was her lucky bracelet. The faster she had it back in her possession, the better.

Pulling the door open, the last person you expect to be waiting at your door is Sunghoon. Some of your sorority sisters pass by without even a glare in his direction, icing him out for your sake. He doesn’t mind their fleeting presence. He keeps his expression, an amalgamation of disbelief and sorrow, trained on you.

Before, back when he was your entire world, you would have pulled him into your arms and kissed away his pain. Even if you hate to admit it to yourself, a part of you still wishes you could.

But while you can be empathetic, you still have to be tough in his presence. Any sign of fragility, and he’ll see the opportunity to creep back in. “Why are you here, Sunghoon?”

“You’re dating him now?”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “What?”

“Chan. You’re together?” You see the tremble of his bottom lip and the lock of his jaw, his composure clearly hanging by a thread. It’s been a long time since you saw Sunghoon so unguarded, you’re unsure if it’s because he’s truly vulnerable or he’s on his last play to win you back.

No matter the reason, you answer with an exasperated sigh. “He just asked me to the formal, okay? He’s my friend.”

“Friends don’t ask friends to go to the dance with flowers.”

You bite your bottom lip, unsure what to say to that. “It doesn’t concern you anymore.”

Sunghoon releases a bitter chuckle, the sound of the laughter dying on his tongue midway. “It does concern me if you’re with someone else.”

“I just told you–”

“I get that.” He runs a hand through his hair, his voice frail at the edges. “But I know what it's like to want you, and I see it when Chan looks at you. And who can blame him right?”

Taking advantage of your stunned silence, Sunghoon keeps going. “When you asked me before why I love you, I didn’t realize how much I took advantage of you. I didn’t appreciate you the way I should’ve, and now I–I miss so many things. The smell of your perfume in my car and the look you’d give me when you were calling me out on my bullshit, which was eighty-five percent of the time. Knowing you had my back even if I was in the wrong because you saw the best parts of me on days I didn’t see them at all.

“I miss you, and I love you, and I don’t know how to stop,” Sunghoon whispers. When he tries to step closer to you, you place a hand on his chest, safeguarding some sort of distance and composure between you. He presses his hand over yours, thumb rubbing across the skin on the back of your hand, making you suck in a breath.

It was every word and more that you yearned to hear from him since you parted ways. While the naysayers continued their dialogue about the demise of your relationship, nobody bothered to think about whether you wanted to let go in the first place. You had to, or it would’ve been the same patterns occurring over and over.

Maybe this moment, this speech, and this Sunghoon, can be a break in the chain. Maybe he’s truly adamant on turning over a new leaf for the better, for the chance to try again and do it right this time. Would it be so wrong to take the chance and give him the benefit of the doubt one more time?

But who truly knew he would change his ways except for Sunghoon himself? Could you risk the cycle repeating for the future you wanted? How were you meant to believe him this time with history on your side?

You retract your hand from his chest, your heart cracking in the parts he forced you to mend. “I can’t do this.”

He swallows forcefully and takes a step back, respecting your wishes. “I understand.” He walks down your driveway and to his car, leaving you with the image of his somber, close-lipped smile.

Sunghoon watches you walk back into your house, his heart in tatters. He looks at the bundle of roses sitting in the passenger seat and promises to himself to fight just a little longer. Giving up means losing you forever, and he’ll die before accepting that loss.

An enormous banner for the homeless shelter hangs on one of the theater department’s auditorium walls. The cheerleaders continue placing decor around the space for tomorrow’s auction, some hand-drawn by the girls and others donated in previous years. You look around with your clipboard, items checked off throughout the day to signal your progress. With less than twenty-four hours to go before the auction, it was imperative to create the perfect atmosphere to sell as many items as possible.

Wonyoung skips over to you, her pigtails swinging in the air, holding a cluster of colorful streamers dangling in her hands. “Where do you want these, babe?”

“Lining the front of the bleachers. That way once the tables are set up we don’t have to work around them.” You check off another bullet as you talk.

“You got it boss!” She winks at you, her expression teasing. Before she can walk away though, Dean Han and Coach Chae walk into the gym. Coach Chae has a bouquet while the dean holds a thin piece of paper.

The two gentlemen walk up to you and Wonyoung, beaming. “Great turn of events ladies,” Dean Han says. “The auction has been canceled.”

“What,” Wonyoung yells. The two men flinch at her reaction, but Coach Chae laughs it off.

“No need to worry, Miss Jang,” Coach Chae responds. “There will still be a gala. Just not an auction. Think of it as a celebratory gala, if you will.”

“What do you mean?” You ask. The clipboard places an indent on your collarbone from how tight you press it against yourself, your anxiety spiking. You put your whole heart into this event for the success of the fundraiser. Why was it suddenly crashing down?

“Someone already donated more than enough to reach your goal. Five thousand, to be exact.”

A silent gasp leaves your lips. The clipboard almost slips from your fingers, but Wonyoung catches it before it clatters onto the gym floor.

“Holy sh—sorry. Holy moly!” Wonyoung exclaims, a smile matching the ones on the older gentlemen’s faces.

“Congratulations, girls. Now you can kick your feet up and enjoy the festivities tomorrow all thanks to your mystery donor,” Dean Han says.

“Mystery donor?” The mix of emotions in your stomach morphs to confused curiosity. “They didn’t leave their name on the check?”

“No. Just the card that came with the flowers,” Coach Chae answers. He hands the bouquet of roses and the comment card to you, the floral smell suddenly wafting in your nose.

You could recognize the script anywhere, the slants and slopes of the handwriting belonging to only one person. The contents of the card make your heart swell and sink deeper, causing you to question everything once more.

For reminding me to cherish all the things I took for granted.

𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑯

On the night of the Spring Formal, a week had passed since that day in the gymnasium which upended a majority of your feelings. Your thoughts have run rampant in your mind since, regrets and doubts sitting at the forefront of your brain.

Wonyoung was fixing the last pieces of your hair into the intricate bun she created. She had already finished her own outfit and makeup, so she decided to help you, too. Looking in the mirror, the tendrils of your bangs falling out from the hairstyle frame your face. Grace exudes from your makeup and the dress you’ve chosen, the strapless champagne gown the centerpiece of your entire look.

”You’re a vision, babe,” your best friend says, her eyes bright in the hallway mirror behind you.

You may look beautiful, but your thoughts make you feel small, unsure of everything you thought you knew or wanted before.

You had not seen Sunghoon since that night on your sorority’s front porch almost two weeks ago, your ex choosing to respect your wishes and stay away just as you requested. Now, in spite of all the ways he vexed you to no end, you missed him just like he said he missed you. Maybe you suppressed yourself from grieving the end of your relationship, jumping headfirst into a new friendship with Chan and the other priorities in your life. Or maybe it was because he still had your entire heart, even if you wished he didn’t.

“Chan should be here any minute,” Wonyoung says, interrupting your thoughts.

You respond with a nod and a small smile, fidgeting with the top of your dress to conceal some of your cleavage.

Wonyoung frowns. “What’s wrong?” She puts her hands on your shoulders, her presence the right amount of concern and warmth, atypical behavior for her but still welcoming.

“Do you think people can change?”

She gives you a knowing smile, the topic of conversation not being said out loud but obvious to the both of you. “When someone wants to, I think they can. Especially when they have a good reason to.”

The doorbell rings, and she hugs you from behind. “I’ll let you get that. I gotta find my bracelet!”

You answer the door, half-expecting to see Chan with flowers and his signature grin. What you find, however, makes your heart constrict with surprise and longing that you didn’t expect to feel so strongly.

Sunghoon in a three-piece suit, hair slicked back, and a corsage looks like the picture-perfect man. When you envisioned this night before, the image of him in front of you always came to mind. And now, you could not be closer to and further from those expectations.

“I wanted to give you this before…I mean, I already bought it, and you deserve to have it.” He twiddles the corsage between his hands. His eyes ask for explicit permission before he places it on your wrist.

Without a second thought, you nod.

Sunghoon steps closer, relieved to have received the green light. The tension between you is palpable in the air, flickering hot and reflecting the same feelings you harbored weeks ago when you were in the same position then. He carefully puts the strap around your wrist, tightening it until it’s snug.

The golden-trimmed roses match your dress flawlessly, so much so you wonder how he remembered the color of the dress you dreamed of for this night.

Like he can read your mind, he says, “You’ve been talking about this dance since the start of the fall semester.” He laughs, the sound hollow.

“Thank you,” you say, the two words expanding far beyond the roses on your wrist.

Thank you for the flowers. For going above and beyond with that check. For showing you’re trying.

The smile he gives you touches his eyes, the edges of his expression almost golden in the sunset's light. “It’s the least I could do.”

Without thinking, he’s so close you can feel the rising pace of his and your breath intermingling. It would be so easy to close the distance, touch his lips with yours, and fall back into his embrace with no regard for the next minute.

Before you can contemplate it further, you see Chan out of the corner of your eye walking up your driveway. His mouth is in a firm line and his posture reflects his discomfort.

Sunghoon steps away from you. He acknowledges Chan with a nod, not terse or disrespectful, but clearly disappointed. He kisses the back of your palm quickly and lets it go. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

Before he walks away for good, leaving you and Chan alone, he finishes with, “By the way, you look breathtaking.”

As Chan gets closer and Sunghoon heads down the road to his car, you think maybe your ex is taking all of your breath with him.

Sunghoon downs the drink in the plastic cup. The tinge of alcohol Jay put in his drink can’t seem to take away the burn of watching you and Chan dance together. The DJ for the dance is playing an uptempo number. Thankfully, you’re not holding each other close, but it’s still a punch to the stomach seeing you smiling with a guy that isn’t him. In an auditorium filled with so many of his peers, he’s never felt so alone.

He drove to the dance by himself, Jake and Jay too entangled in their own love lives to soften the blow of Sunghoon’s continued misery. Heeseung and his girlfriend remain loved up in their own private corner of the dance floor. Sunghoon isn’t jealous or petty, though, although he’s well-accustomed to both emotions at this point. All he feels is some semblance of gratitude for the people enjoying the festivities of the night with a person they care about.

Heeseung’s girlfriend steps away from her partner with a kiss on his lips, somehow sensing Sunghoon’s despair. She walks over to him, a sad smile on her face as she approaches the lone guy at his idle table. “No luck, huh?”

Sunghoon nods and tips his drink at her. “You could say that.”

Heeseung comes up in record time, Sunghoon’s teammate unable to stay away from his lover for too long. He clears his throat and looks toward the younger guy with quiet condolences. “Listen, Hoon. Just talk to her and be honest. Stop dancing around your feelings.”

Sunghoon scoffs into his cup, the sound echoing in the plastic. “As if I could steal her away from the meathead over there. Like your missus said, she’s better off.”

“You know I apologized for that!” Heeseung’s girlfriend mirrors Sunghoon’s reaction, puffing out a breath of air and rolling her eyes. “And if that’s the case, why has she been looking over here at least every five minutes?”

Sunghoon glances past the rim of his cup and catches you staring just as Heeseung’s girlfriend makes her point.

A plethora of unspoken feelings swirl in your eyes, ones Sunghoon may have the words for but cannot speak. Why did words hold so much more power when it was too late to say them? Did he still have time at all, or was the opportunity to be transparent long gone? It’s too much to process; all he can do is look away from you, the guilt hitting him square in his chest.

Heeseung and his girlfriend share a conspiratory look, plotting something. Sunghoon takes a gulp of air, unsure if he wants to know exactly what they’re planning.

“Be on the rooftop in ten minutes. And make sure you know what you’re gonna say, idiot,” Heeseung’s girlfriend commands, her smirk flashing wickedly under the gymnasium lights.

“Hey!” Heeseung and his girlfriend run up to your spot by the punch bowl. You were absentmindedly staring at the fruit concoction in the tub while Chan had raced off to the bathroom, promising to be back in five.

“What’s up?” You ask, giving his girlfriend a polite and acknowledging smile.

“Something happened on the rooftop with one of the girls on the squad. I think she got food poisoning or something,”

“Yeah,” Heeseung’s girlfriend comments. “Wonyoung told us to get you ‘cause she needs some help bringing the poor girl back downstairs.”

You roll your eyes and set your cup on the plastic table in front of you. If it’s Leeseo again, you may just have to kill her.

The couple follows close behind as you make it to the stairwell door leading up to the rooftop. You wonder why the two didn’t help Wonyoung in the first place, but maybe the girl in question requested you personally and didn’t want to be embarrassed by being assisted by strangers.

Opening the rooftop entrance, you see Sunghoon standing near the edge, kicking gravel off the side of the building. Your heart seizes up, glad but caught off-guard to be seeing him right now.

In an instant, the door closes behind you, locking from the outside. You bang on it, unsure what’s happening. “What the fuck, guys?”

“You’re not coming out until we hear some talking!”

The sudden quiet is deafening, the only reprieve being the breeze passing through the trees surrounding the school. You run your hands across your arms, feeling the chill now that you’re outside but also unsure of what to do in this situation.

Sunghoon immediately sheds his jacket and walks over to you. He waits with the article in his hands before you nod meekly. He wraps it around your shoulders protectively, making sure your arms go through the sleeves. “Better?”

“Much, thank you,” you whisper.

Sunghoon looks deeply into your eyes, knocking any subsequent words from your conscious mind. You bite your lip instinctively, tense from his lack of distance between your bodies. Why did he still have the capability to steal your train of thought without trying?

He blows out a breath, the sound of his voice flimsy in the spring air. “When I first joined the basketball team, I didn’t know if and how I would measure up,” Sunghoon begins. “I was fifteen and terrified of playing next to someone as good as Heeseung and always being compared to him.

“And I took all those worries about being not good enough and took it out on everyone. I let it ruin the most perfect thing in my life because I thought acting like I didn’t care would stop me from feeling insecure. What an idiot, right?”

Sunghoon brushes a free bang from your face. His eyes are glassy, the vulnerability he’s showing you at an all-time high. “I should’ve realized the girl I love didn’t care if I was the best or the worst basketball player ever, as long as I was hers and didn’t forget it. I just didn’t know it then. And now that I’ve realized what a fool I’ve been, all I want now is to spend the rest of my time making it up to her.”

The confession knocks any remaining resolve out of you, unable to bear the pain in his face or the uncertainty that hangs in the air. You slam your lips into his, the kiss both bruising and healing in the same motion. It rejuvenates all the parts of you that had been withered away since the night you broke up and couldn’t be revived without him.

Sunghoon feels the effects of the kiss as well, his gasps and whimpers exemplifying his surprise and relief to have you back in his arms. Holding you, kissing you, being with you, you can tell he’s worried the moment’s a figment of his imagination. If he doesn’t cherish it, you’ll float away. And he can’t survive that for a second time.

You part for air, but your lips still ghost over each other’s, unable to be parted now that he’s within your reach again.

With your voice laced with the unshed tears in your eyes, you ask, “What took you so damn long, you idiot?”

Sunghoon can only respond with a joyful laugh and another kiss to your lips, making up for his unsaid apologies and shit timing with his mouth.

Now that your body is against his, your hearts beating rapidly but once-again in tune with each other, he’s certain now he’ll never be stupid enough to forget your worth and let you go again. Because the pleasure he used to call home is back in his life, and he couldn’t feel more at ease.

Sunghoon’s laughing when he unlocks the front door of his apartment, his face in a permanent grin since you kissed a few hours prior. You spent the time before ending up here driving around town, too enraptured with each other to focus on your friends or the rest of the dance’s festivities. You didn’t leave without Heeseung giving Sunghoon a slap to the back and Wonyoung crying at your reconciliation.

The space is quiet, his roommate off somewhere and giving you both the privacy you’ve been longing for. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look, by the way?” Sunghoon mentions again when he closes the door behind you. He immediately pulls you in by the waist, showering the skin of your neck in kisses.

You giggle and weave your hands into his hair, a gasp leaving you when he takes your earlobe between his teeth. “Probably for the hundredth time by now.”

“Well you do.” He presses another kiss to the spot below your ear, making you shiver. “And I’m not gonna stop saying it.”

You smirk and move your hands to both sides of his face, forcing you to look at him. “I didn’t expect the night to go like this.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.” His voice is teasing, but his eyes are suddenly lined with anxiety. His body tenses in your embrace, the worry that you’re having second thoughts weighing on his happiness.

You ease his doubts with a deep kiss, holding him close and hoping that assures him you’re not going anywhere. “A great thing.”

The smile you love so much appears once he’s at peace, and Sunghoon peppers your entire face with kisses after he takes a deep breath. You laugh out loud, but he can tell you love the adoration he’s providing you.

You could definitely get used to this new Sunghoon, the night already filled with so much magic.

“I’ll be back.” He grins wide, canines on full display. Another kiss punctuates the sentence. “Don’t go anywhere.” Another.

You laugh out loud and nod your head. He dramatically holds onto your hand until he’s forced to let go. He runs down the hallway and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you on the couch to wait.

Twenty minutes later, you’re twiddling with your thumbs when Sunghoon comes back out.

“My lady, follow me.” He bows and holds out his hand for you to take, and you smile ear to ear when you lace your fingers with his. You’re unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side of his bedroom door, but you know it must be another surprise your boyfriend has gone above and beyond to amaze you with.

Surely enough, it makes you gasp out loud and press your free hand to your chest.

Sunghoon’s bedroom is showered in a radiant glow from dozens of candles, all different sizes but the same light creating a sweet, calming ambience. Fairy lights hang on the walls, aiding in the atmosphere he’s created. Music plays at a low sound from the speakers near the television, Sunghoon’s phone hooked up to the system. To top it all off, there’s another bouquet of white roses sitting on his side table, some petals lining the edges of the floor around his bed.

When you thought about this night in your dreams, it always ended here, being so in love. He’s made those dreams come true, right down to the letter, and you could not be more in love with him than in this moment.

Sunghoon comes closer. He presses his chest to your back, encasing your body with his arms and kissing your neck once again. You try to stifle the sob that comes out, but he hears it and retracts. “Shit, do you not like it? I can blow the candles out and–”

You turn in his embrace, shaking your head furiously. “No, I love it.” You wipe your tears, laughing at the reaction he’s pulled out of you. “I’m just–it doesn’t feel like it’s real.”

“It is.” He takes the side of your face in his hand, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “And I’ll remind you every day if you need me to.”

“I love you so much,” you respond, kissing the inside of his palm. You pull him closer, reconnecting your lips with his. You feel whole in a way you haven’t in weeks, knowing now for certain this happiness coupled with Sunghoon’s love is the perfect combination to sustain you.

“I love you too,” he says in between kisses, his mouth turning sloppy. You feel his growing hardness against you. It had been months since the last time you were intimate. You think as Sunghoon pulls you in closer than before, groaning into your mouth, that tonight’s the perfect time to reconnect in more ways than just emotionally.

“I missed you so much,” you moan, tugging his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. You run your arms across his chest, still covered by the cotton button up he’s wearing, but you quickly make do with the buttons on his shirt to feel the skin underneath.

He shivers under your touch, but he manages to find the zipper of your dress and lower it down until the dress easily slips from your body. You step out of it, careful not to tread over the fabric. Your focus remains on undressing Sunghoon until he’s as naked as you are, wearing only your underwear and shoes. He’s shirtless thanks to you undoing his buttons, but you want all of him exposed.

You try to pull down the zipper of his pants, but he stops you, his eyes lust-filled but patient. “This night is about you, baby. Not me.”

“Please, let me touch you.” You whine, holding onto the belt-loops on his pants.

“Not yet.” He moves you both back until you’re at the edge of the bed. He motions for you to sit down. Once you do, he gets onto his knees in front of you, the man you love on a mission. “Let me make you feel good first.”

He takes the heels off of your feet and sets them down beside your dress. When he does, he begins his slow torture of kissing up your ankles to the insides of your thighs. You lay your body back on his bed, whimpering and body on the verge of shaking when he finally pulls the underwear from your legs.

“Fuck, Hoon,” you say out loud when he presses a kiss to your clit, taking the nub between his lips and sucking tenderly while rubbing his hands on the curves of your hips. He takes one hand to reach out and grab one of your breasts, expertly taking your nipple between his thumb and index finger as his tongue licks along the insides of your center. “Please don’t stop,” you whisper.

“Wasn’t planning on it, my love.” His tongue moves at a faster pace, matching the writhing of your hips crashing into his face to gain every ounce of pleasure he’s giving you.

Before, you wouldn’t have imagined being back in this bedroom with him, and now there’s no other place you wanted to exist.

“Hoon, please. I want you,” you say, one hand clutching his comforter and the other entangled in his hair.

“You have me, always.” His tongue slips inside of your pussy, the feeling of the muscle against your walls causing you to cry out in pleasure.

“I’m not moving until you come, baby. I know you’re close.” The pleasure has been building since the moment he had his mouth wrapped around your neck when you stepped into his house. And now, with his mouth buried inside of you and sweet words accompanying such dirty actions fuels your body’s speedrun to your release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse, your orgasm hitting you like the crash of a wave before you go underwater. But you don’t care to drown if it feels this satisfying.

You laugh breathlessly when the end of your release comes. Sunghoon wipes your essence off of his lips with the back of his hand, smiling bashfully. Every action of his before is incredibly contrary to his shy expression, but you love it.

Ridding himself of his pants, Sunghoon’s cock springs free from the constricting article of clothing. The tip is leaking with precum, but he isn’t in a rush to jump on top of you like the many times before when you both were too frustrated to worry with foreplay.

He kisses you with all he has when he crawls on top of you. His tongue inside of your mouth fills it with the taste of your slick. In a blip, he has a condom in his hand and puts it on with quick skill. There’s no need to prep you, your previous orgasm leaving you wet and waiting for him to line up with your entrance and slip inside.

He does it expertly. Both of you tremble from the feeling you long forgot felt so otherworldly, his cock making a home within your walls and your body adjusting to the delicious stretch.

The song in the background fills your ears with the sounds of a slow-strumming guitar, reflecting the thrust of Sunghoon’s hips. Your hips meet his when he’s filled you to the hilt, causing you to sigh. “Fuck, just like that.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Sunghoon whispers between thrusts, moaning sweet nothings into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you whisper in kind, gasping. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each press of his hips, exiting slowly and pushing back inside until there’s no space left to accommodate him.

How could you be so filled, figuratively and literally, by the love he had to offer you? For anyone else who’s never known the feelings stirring inside of you, a mixture of sinful pleasure and pure happiness, you feel sorry for them. If everyone in the world did, they might have been labeled as two extra wonders of the world.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come again,” you say, clutching onto his hips. You bite down on the skin of his shoulder, releasing your moans into his skin as his pace speeds up.

“Yes, baby, give it to me,” he groans, gulping hard and body frantic to take you both to the your climaxes. You feel the stars behind your eyes when your second orgasm comes, a long cry leaving your lips. Sunghoon matches it with a broken moan, the sound coming out in fragments as he spills inside of the condom.

Sunghoon lathers your face in deep, heartfelt kisses before pulling out. He walks to the bathroom quickly, throwing away the condom in the trash and grabbing a cloth to clean you up. He runs the fabric between your legs, careful not to press down too hard and overstimulate you.

You both crawl under the covers after he throws the rag in his hamper, your body immediately snuggling into his. The crown of your head receives another blitz of kisses, your smile hurting your cheeks from how wide it goes.

“I love you,” Sunghoon says, the words coming without a second thought.

And with no regrets in your mind or heart, resolute in your decision to forgive him, you say, “I love you, too, Hoon. Always.”

People could always change if they had the determination and inspiration to do so, and you know that for sure now. In the arms of the one you love, that fact could not be more true.

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