#truly is taehyun | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jakedustry · 3 months ago

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𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐔𝐓 - 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐌

IN WHICH Jake Sim loves hockey, he loves it so much he is willing to spend his every free minute on the ice skating, but he also finds himself falling in love with you—the only girl his coach doesn't want him to date. But with the way you look at him, can he stay far enough to keep his position as the captain?

pairing– hockey captain!Jake x fem!reader

featuring– Enhypen members, Dani and Manon of katseye, Taehyun and Huening of txt, Keeho and Intak of piwon

genre– Fluff, Smut, slightly angst

warnings/contains– SMUT, simp!jake, kinda love at first sight, protective father, good relationships with parents, food mentions, Jake is very much a dream boyfriend, jake has a license, lots of teasing and flirting, secrete relationship, reader is told to be slightly shorter than Jake, nicknames/pet names used, parents get in the way of their relationship, masturbation (m & f), sexting, nudes exchange, oral (m & f), unprotected and protected sex, not proofread

word count– 25.5k

playlist »» ❝ It took five seconds to fall in love and two more to make you mine ❞ — Elijah Woods

�� izzy adds... I've spend a good amount of time just looking at this picture of Jake instead of writing but honestly...can you blame me? It's the way he looks at me, I just can't adalhdlad Anyways, i'm glad to finally show you my baby because I've been meaning to write a hockey romance for sooo long. And what better present could I give myself than finally publishing it AND with Jake as the star character haha

m.list

Ice. Water. They were the same thing, right? And if water was a necessity, ice was as well, wasn’t it? Because truly, it was.

There is no difference. Ice is simply frozen water, something we need to survive.

And you needed ice to survive. The feeling of freedom when you moved around, the way your skates clung to your feet perfectly, and especially the memories the ice held. You couldn’t just give up on them, no matter how much you tried to.

It wasn’t because you wouldn’t want to, in fact, you’d do anything to be able to step on the ice rink again, but it wasn’t within your capabilities to argue about the matter. It was overnight, without any previous warnings or discussions, and as you were picking up your things to leave for the ice rink before school, your dad stopped you, and your whole world had crumbled down. I don’t want you on my ice anymore. His words ring in your ears to this day, making you feel worse each time.

When you were younger, it was part of your daily routine to spend the afternoon there, hanging around with the players until late nights. One of the perks of being the NHL player’s daughter, you suppose. But then, in the blink of an eye, the father-daughter moments you loved so much, suddenly stopped.

At first, he tried to excuse it by telling you you needed to focus on your studies, but the more time passed, the more obvious it became that he simply didn’t want you around. Whenever you asked him if you could join him when he had training, he brushed you off without any good reason. It didn’t matter who was on the ice, if he had a lesson with the kids or people your age—you just couldn’t go.

It’s been four months since you last got to skate, and it felt like a part of you was missing.

“Why don’t you just go when he isn’t around then?” Your roommate, Daniela, asks, her eyes softening when she notices your tired expression as you stare at your phone, looking through old pictures. “I don’t want to go behind his back,” you mumble without glancing up at her.

“But you want to skate,” your other roommate, Manon, reminds you. You nod, putting down your phone and sighing as you notice the worried looks on their faces. “Well, then, how about we all go together? I might be able to get us in after closing hours,” you offer.

“I’m sorry, angel, I need to finish this project by midnight, so I can’t,” Manon excuses herself, and Dani follows soon after, saying she has two exams in the morning. “But you should still go,” she encourages you. “Go and have fun. We know how much it means to you,” Manon agrees with her, and you know you can’t back away now. You’ll definitely go tonight.

As soon as your feet stepped on the ice rink, it felt as if everything was back to how it was supposed to be. The cold air hit your face and all your worries, all the stress you were feeling in the past few days, have washed off. You moved quickly, the blades of your skates cutting through the ice with ease.

In that moment, you knew there was nothing else you needed. As long as you had the ability to skate, nothing else mattered.

So, just like that, it became a routine. Every day, shortly after ten, you’ve gone to the ice rink, borrowing the keys from the manager and staying there for an hour at least. Daniela went with you from time to time, keeping you company as much as she could but at the end, you realized it was more convenient to just go alone, without having to worry about the time you’d leave or come back.

You didn’t mind. You were skating again and that was enough.

“Hello, Mr. Park,” you greet him with a smile, just like you had many times before. “You’re earlier than usual,” he comments, putting on his jacket and taking out a bunch of keys from his pocket. You smile, grabbing the keys from him. “I needed to get out,” you shrug.

“You kids seem to do that a lot,” he shakes his head slightly. “School is a lot on you, huh?” You don’t answer, knowing just one look is enough as a response. When was it not a lot? “I see,” he nods, understanding. “In that case, I hope it helps you clear your head. Both of you.”

“Both of us?” You frown as you tug the keys into your pocket. “Dani isn’t with me today, I’m alone.”

You catch a change in his expression, a small yet visible flicker in his eyes, and it almost feels like he is planning something, as if there was something meaningful behind his actions. “Mr. Park,” you narrow your eyes at him, trying to see through him. He chuckles, sending you a warm smile before patting your shoulder and walking away.

You watch him confusedly until his figure disappears and you turn around again. That was…weird, to say the least. Still, you decide not to pay it much attention and do what you always do—go on the ice.

You smile, letting the feeling sink in before you furrow your eyebrows, the loud movement of the puck ringing in your ears. You look around, your eyes following the hockey player on the other side. You stare at the number 4 on his back, frowning when you realize you don’t recognize him. You always knew the names of every player on the team, their practice schedules, positions, and even the rankings your dad had for them. But now…you had no idea who this one was.

A part of you hated your dad for it.

You hated him for taking it from you. For taking the excitement you felt when you watched hockey players or figure skaters. Now, you felt like there was nothing connecting you to those sports.

You take a seat on the closest bench, switching your shoes to your skates. You’re tying the laces when a loud pank interrupts you, the sound of the puck hitting the plexiglass making you flinch. You raise your head, watching as the boy stops in front of you when he sees you. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, pulling his helmet off with his empty hand, his hair sweaty. “That wasn’t meant to attack you or anything.”

“I’m fine,” you brush it off, standing up with a casual shrug. “It’s not me you should be worried about, though. But rather your aim,” you point out. “And that stop didn’t look exactly stable, either.” You see him scoff, and slowly make your way toward the nearest entrance to the ice, your skates cutting through the surface with ease.

“And who are you to judge? What exactly makes you think you know better than me?” he challenges you, his voice dripping with amusement as he leans on his hockey stick.

You chuckle, turning slightly to look over your shoulder. You smirk. “Should I show you?” you tease, not bothered to wait for his answer as you swiftly push, gliding towards him, picking up your speed.

His dark eyes widen in surprise and he drops his stick, his helmet following right after, expecting you to bump into him. However, you’re ready for that. With a swift movement, you take a sharp turn around him, coming to a perfect stop just behind him. “How’s that?” you ask, your voice filled with playful confidence.

“Pretty good,” he breaths out, laughing in awe as he turns around to face you. “What’s your name, figure skater?” He asks, the mockery at the words ‘figure skater’ painfully obvious. “I’m not a figure skater,” you clarify, your movements precise as you pick up his dropped hockey stick. “I can handle the puck just as well,” you grin, imitating his moves from before and quickly scoring into the net. You strike a mockingly exaggerated bow, your name slipping past your lips, almost like a laugh in his face.

What an introduction.

“I’m Jake,” he says before picking up his helmet from the ground. You smile, skating backward away from him with his hockey stick still in your hands. He follows right away, and it’d be impossible not to notice the grin on his face.

You take a few rounds around the rink, joking around with him as you skate backwards so you can see him. He has a cocky grin on his face, and for the first time, you don’t mind. You always hated seeing that look on men’s faces, when they thought they were above you, above everyone. But for some reason, his smirk didn’t look the same.

At that moment, you think it might have hit both of you. The spark, the flame burning deep down in your stomach as you laugh together over nothing.

You slow down so he can catch up to you. “Are you on the hockey team?” You ask even though you already know the answer. Of course, he is. The jersey made you figure out as much. “Yeah,” he nods. “The captain himself,” Jake laughs, speeding up to get in front of you and get the roles switched. “But I guess the coach made a mistake if there is so much I still need to develop.”

“I mean, you’re decent,” you smile. “Oh, thank you. I appreciate that, figure skater,” he teases you again, but this time, you don’t hear any annoying mockery in his voice. “And anyway, the coach doesn’t make mistakes. He must have had something in mind when he made you the captain, number four.”

“You seem to know a thing or two about him, huh?” You shrug. For a moment, your focus fades away as you think about your dad. You could have known the team sooner. You could have hung out with them just like with any of the other guys your dad trained. Sure, back then, you were a kid, so it was mostly just them looking after you, but you loved it nonetheless. You would give anything to feel that again.

Jake uses the lack of your attention, grabbing the bottom part of his hockey stick and pulling you with him. You snap out of your thoughts, holding on tighter so you wouldn’t fall, letting him drag you around the ice rink.

You stumble forward when he pulls with his full strength and you let go of the stick to be ready for the fall but before you hit the ground, his arms catch you, spinning you around as if it was a part of a performance. You end up laughing again. Honestly, you lost count of the amount of times he had made you laugh.

“Thank you,” you mumble when he stops again, sending him a grateful smile. “For everything.” Jake shakes his head, “I didn’t do anything.” — “You did everything,” you correct him. “I needed this. So, thank you for reminding me why I love skating again.”

Jake’s bag swings over his shoulder as he walks out of the ice rink with you, your bag in his other hand, despite all your protests. He insisted on carrying it for you, saying something along the lines of wanting to be gentleman-like. So you let him.

“What exactly are you actually, figure skater? If you don’t play ice hockey or figure skate either, then what do you do?” He wonders as you lock the door behind you. “Nothing and everything,” you proclaim. “I grew up on this ice. I watched every game the Tigers played for the past thirteen years,” you shrug as if it was completely normal. It was normal, though. For you, at least.

“So, are you some sort of Mowgli of the ice?” Jake laughs, causing you to do the same. “I guess you could say that. Even though it were still people who raised me, sometimes I feel like the ice rink had a big part in it too.” He nods, humming in response.

Jake ends up walking you to your dorm that night. You never mention who your dad is, nor what your last name is, because you don’t think it’s important. You talk about everything else with him—from your major, through your childhood hobbies, to your friends. You tell him all about it, and he tells you all about everything that he can think of at the moment as well.

“Then, I’ll see you around, figure skater?” He wonders as he hands you back your bag, running his fingers through his hair. “Maybe,” you smile. “I hope you learn to stop more smoothly until we meet again, number four.” He chuckles, nodding. “I’ll do my best,” he promises, awkwardly snapping his fingers as he points at you and swallows what he wants to say next. You raise your eyebrows, questioning what it is, but he shakes his head, not saying anything else. He sends you one last smile before turning around on his heel. “Good night, figure skater.”

“Night,” you mumble softly, smiling when you open your dorm door.

“You’re acting weird,” Manon comments, eyeing you from across the room. You look up from your notes in your lap, raising an eyebrow at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Your book is upside down,” Dani points out and your eyes immediately fall down again. You quickly turn the book around, embarrassed. “For the last few days, you’ve been completely out of it. Why?”

“I just can’t focus,” you sigh, resting your head against the headboard of your bed tiredly. “Tests?” Manon asks, but you’re not sure, honestly. Ever since that night, since you’ve met Jake, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You couldn’t stop thinking about how the hockey team was doing this season, who was on the team, and if your dad was still just as strict with them as before.

You just wanted to be a part of the life again.

“Boys?” Daniela chimes in. You give her a look—almost a warning one, but it only creates a smirk on her face. “Bingo.”

“What boys? What do I not know about?” Manon’s eyes widen, searching for answers in your eyes. “Nothing,” you shoot back. “There’s no one. I’m thinking about the Tigers.”

“Those, Angel, are men as well,” she reminds you with a teasing grin. “Some fine ones, may I add.” You roll your eyes at her, but you don’t argue. You might have only met one of them so far but if his teammates looked anything like him, it was only another reason to meet the team.

You needed to convince your dad soon, no matter what.

“So, what about the Tigers?” Dani asks, the study notes on her desk long forgotten as she turns all her attention to you. “I’ve heard they are doing pretty well this season. Apparently some good first years joined this year.” You hum in response, thinking about it for a second.

“I met their captain a few days ago, he was training when I got to the ice rink so we skated together,” you admit, watching their eyes widen in excitement. “It was nothing like that,” you roll your eyes at them even though a part of you knows it was like that. You can’t forget about the way he made you feel that day. “It just got me to miss them even more. You know, watching their trainings and stuff.”

Their eyes soften and you shake your head when you notice the pity in their expressions. “Good thing Uni is keeping me busy anyway,” you joke, but the sadness in your voice is painfully obvious. Still, they don’t press you any more, understanding when it’s the time to just stay quiet.

It’d be silly to say Jake found his love at first sight.

Still, he can’t seem to get you out of his head, and it’s getting to the point it disturbs his everyday life.

“How about you stop thinking about getting your dick wet and focus, captain?” Jake’s roommate asks, dropping his notes in front of him. The black-haired boy snaps out of his thoughts, picking up the small notebook. “What’s this?” He frowns, opening the first page. “Ideas for our next game’s tactics. Discuss it with the coach if you like any of it.”

“And really, start paying attention. If you fail your exam just because of some stupid girl and we lose our captain, I’m going to beat you up.” Jake laughs, nodding. “I’ll pass, Jay. I’ve been studying,” he assures him, but the snort that leaves Sunghoon’s lips on the other side of the room makes Jay worry again. “What?” He raises his hands in the air in defence when he sees Jake glare at him. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t need to,” Jake rolls his eyes.

“Look, guys, you don’t get it. You should have seen her! She was so cocky! She thought she could skate better than me!” He exclaims, a smile appearing on his lips as he thinks about the girl he met two weeks ago. “Honestly, she might have been better,” he chuckles. “I just know I was supposed to meet her there.”

“And here he goes again with the fate thing,” Sunghoon scoffs, turning around on his chair to focus on his new skating choreography instead. “If you two are fated as you say, why haven’t you met again, huh?” Jay shakes his head at him, sighing. “Just look over the game plans. I’m going to the library,” he waves his two roommates a quick bye, grabbing his bag from the floor and leaving the dorm.

The room falls silent for a moment before Jake speaks up again. “What if I went to see her?”

“Oh God,” Sunghoon groans. There was nothing good that could come out of this. No matter how he looks at it, Jake’s sudden obsession could only go left. Still, it didn’t stop him. Before Sunghoon could say anything else, try to explain why it wasn’t the best idea, Jake was already up on his toes, packing up his laptop and some books for his afternoon lesson.

“It’ll be fine,” he proclaims when he sees his roommate’s face, chuckling at his worries. “I’ll just say a quick hi to her, maybe get her number, and then I’ll go. I have math anyway, remember?” Sunghoon sighs, shaking his head. He lets him go, though, deciding to leave it up to him to deal with whatever he is planning to start.

Jake hesitates as he stands in front of the same door he last saw you at, debating what he wants to say. Just as he reaches his hand up to knock on the door, the wooden furniture flies open and he almost bumps into a blond that tries to leave the dorm. He quickly blinks a few times, asking her if she’s okay.

“Yeah, no worries,” she brushes it off, her eyes wandering all over his face curiously. “I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

“Ah,” he offers his hand for a handshake with a smile. “Jake Sim. I, uhm, am the captain of the hockey team.” She chuckles as she shakes his hand, connecting the dots. “Daniella Avanzini.”

Jake awkwardly rubs the back of his neck as he looks at her, realizing that he really had no plan at all when he came here. She, however, just smiles at him, and as if she knew what was going on through his head, she informs him you’re not home at the moment. He nods, quickly apologizing as he turns on his heel to leave.

“Wait,” she stops him, her grin somehow mischievous. “She mentioned you before, just so you know. If you want, she plans to go skate at ten tonight again. I need to study so I can’t go with her, maybe you could keep her company.”

Without realizing what he is doing, Jake’s lips turn into a smile and he nods, saying his goodbye quickly and running to his lesson.

It’s six when Jake arrives at the ice rink, cursing himself out for being late. Coach was going to kill him sooner or later. He does his best to change as fast as possible but when he steps on the ice, it’s already 6:12.

“Sim, you’re late!” Coach yells at him from across the rink, only sparing him a mare look before turning his attention back to the boys in front of him, watching them closely. “Practice speed drills,” he proclaims, quickly entrusting for Jay to lead it as he walks towards the team captain.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Jake apologizes without hesitation. “I got caught up in school work but I’ll make sure I’m on time from now on.” Coach scoffs, shaking his head slightly and patting his shoulder. “I get it kid, don’t worry about it.” Jake confusedly glances Jay’s way but he is too busy with his own thing to notice. Something feels wrong. He shouldn’t be this understanding.

“You–You do?”

Coach chuckles, nodding. “I have a kid myself, I know how hard it can be for you youngsters.”

Jake’s brows furrow but he nods anyway. He isn’t sure why he is so calm about it but if Coach is in a happy mood, he doesn’t need to piss him off. “Right, thank you,” he mumbles, offering a small smile before putting on his helmet and joining the others.

“Dude, how are you this late and still alive and breathing?” One of the guys, Huening, asks as he comes to a stop right before the captain. Jake simply shrugs, glancing back at the coach again. “Not sure, but not complaining either,” he says, patting Kai’s shoulder slightly as he looks around to see how everyone’s doing.

“Okay, I need to warm up. Jay, you got it for a bit?” He calls at the older man, receiving a simple nod in return. “Okay! No more lazing around, let’s go!” Coach yells at the same time as Jake starts moving again, tilting his head slightly. This seemed more like the coach he knew so well.

The training goes on; from passing, through rebound drills to a full practice game where Jake almost curses out one of his closest friends, Heeseung, after they collide together and both bump into the plexiglass, causing Jake’s vision to blur for a few seconds. And when they finish, they all skate to one side where Coach is already waiting for them, a pen and notebook in his hands.

Jake groans, tiredly plopping down onto the ice and taking down his helmet, brushing his sweaty hair back so they won’t get in front of his eyes. The rest of the team follows shortly after, until it’s only the coach standing.

“Okay, first off, you all did well today, and I’m sure you know what you each need to work on so I’m going to make it short,” he says before handing his notes of the practice to the captain so he can go through them with his teammates later. “I won’t be able to be here on Friday so please, practice just as if I was and focus on the things I pointed out,” he continues, signaling to the notebook Jake is holding. “And after you’re done, you’ll find videos from some games in my office, take it as your homework and study them before our next game.”

They all chant in unison, assuring him they will. “Alright, any questions or suggestions from anyone?” Jake looks around. “Well, actually,” Huening clears his throat nervously. “I’ve been thinking– I mean, we’ve been thinking,” he directs to a few guys around him. “A lot of teams gain their popularity online and you know, we only have our instagram account that no one really visits anyway. Maybe…we could get a media girl or something?”

“A media girl?” Coach questions.

“Someone who would film videos for us, take pictures and take care of our media for us,” Taehyun explains simply.

“More people would know about us that way which also means more people to cheer for us at games,” Heeseung joins in. “More pretty girls thirsting over us,” he adds with a laugh, high-fiving with Keeho beside him.

The coach tilts his head, watching the boys in front of him as he thinks about it, eventually nodding. “Sure, if you can find someone who’s willing to, then why not,” he approves and the guys cheer quietly.

Jake’s eyes widen as it hits him, immediately raising his head to join the conversation. “I think I know of someone.” Jay catches the small spark in his eyes and shakes his head, knowing damn well what he was thinking about. He wasn’t even surprised.

“So, who are you thinking about?” Keeho asks as he takes off his gear in the locker room. Jake’s lips turn up into a smile just at the thought of you, and that’s enough for all the guys to corner him, questioning him about this someone on his mind. “What? Are you too scared one of them is going to flirt with her before you can?” Jay teases, shaking his head as he walks into the showers, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Oh? So your girl?” Heeseung wraps his hand around Jake’s shoulder but he escapes right after, grabbing his towel quickly to run to the shower instead. “Not my girl. Yet, at least,” he finally speaks up, disappearing before anyone can say anything else.

Jake might not be the most responsible person on Earth or the most punctual, but when he knows a girl he can’t stop thinking about will be somewhere at ten, you can be sure he will be on time.

Your eyes widen when you notice him sitting at one of the benches, a phone in his hands and his skates ready on his feet. Unlike the other day, this time he isn’t wearing his gear. He has a simple dark grey hoodie on with black pants, and you can’t help but smile.

“You got lost, number four?” You ask as you slowly approach him. He looks up from his phone, grinning as he puts it aside. “My name is Jake, figure skater,” he reminds you while still keeping up. He watches you as you sit down next to him, putting on your skates. “And I am not a figure skater, Jake,” you say, unable to contract your smile as you glance at him again.

“Guess I’ll have to think of a new nickname for you then.”

“I guess you will,” you nod, standing up when you finish lacing your skates. “I’m not sure what you’re doing here but…first to be on the other side wins?” you suggest playfully, already stepping on the ice before he can even register your words. As soon as he does, he quickly tries to catch up to you, putting all his skills to use just to be faster than you.

And he manages, even though it’s not the way he’d want.

Just as he catches up to you, you step badly and the next thing he knows, you’re on the ice and he is turning around to get to you again as fast as he can. “Are you okay?” He asks, the worry in his voice painfully obvious. You take his hand when he offers, standing back up awkwardly. “I’m good.”

He sighs in relief, shaking his head at you slightly. He ruffles your hair and you yell immediately, making him laugh. “Alright, bambi, I think I won. What’s my reward?” He teases, the nickname making you frown. “Bambi?” He only smirks, slowly skating away from you, not taking his eyes off you in the process. “Fine, what do you want?” You ask, your skates cutting through the ice once again as you follow him.

“We need a media girl,” he admits without a second thought. “I said I would find one. And I want you.” His words send shivers down your spine. You bite your bottom lip, watching him nervously while thinking about it. But really, if Jake tells you he wants you, can you refuse?

“The coach agreed to this?” You ask before giving him an answer. As much as you’d love to hold onto this excuse to be on the rink, you still don’t want to just go behind your dad’s back like this. “Yeah, he said I can handle it. He has a big thrust in me, you know,” he says proudly, making you chuckle. “I’m sure he does.”

“We have practice on Friday. Come by, I’ll introduce you to the team and you can decide then. I’ll understand if they piss you so much you won’t want to work with them,” he jokes.

“And what if you’ll be the one annoying me so much that I decide not to?” You grin and he rolls his eyes. You manage to do a full lap by then, still following him around the ice rink.

“Also, I want two rewards,” he proclaims all of a sudden before stopping. You mimic his movement with a raised eyebrow. “And why exactly should you get two?”

“Because I’m amazing?” Despite his lame act, a chuckle escapes your lips and he knows he’s already winning. “Egoist maybe, yeah,” you smirk, scanning his face with your eyes. “Okay, what is it? I warn you though, if it’s stupid, I’ll kick you to the balls.”

“Not my kids!” He fake-gasps dramatically, putting his hands in front of his crotch to prove his point. You laugh again, shaking your head. He smiles when he sees you, and the moment you notice it, you feel like something shifts between you. You swallow a lump in your throat, prompting him to finally tell you what he wants. You know you will definitely think about that smile of his later, though.

“Okay, jokes aside, I want your number,” he admits, your eyes widening. “Why?” He chuckles. “What do you mean ‘why’? I want to be able to talk to you. I mean, what if I decide to stay late for training and need a goalie?”

“So that’s what I’m good for, huh?”

“That and maybe…just in case I feel a bit lonely here all alone,” he whispers, skating away again before you can say anything. You take a deep breath, sorting out your thoughts before you follow him, taking a turn towards the exit while he takes another lap around.

You grab his phone from the bench, showing it to him. “Come here and unlock it if you want it!” You don’t have to say more. Jake doesn’t show any signs of hesitation before rushing to you, barely stepping off the ice as he takes the phone away from you. You chuckle at how determined he is, writing down your number when he hands you the phone again.

“Why exactly am I a bambi now?” You frown as you watch him add a contact name. “Smile,” he says instead of answering, positioning the phone right in front of his eyes to get a picture of you from his perspective. He isn’t much taller than you but you still look up, forming an awkward smile. You’re not sure why, but there is a smile on his lips when he lowers his phone again. A smile so adorable you want to savor it.

“Bambi is a cute animal,” he proclaims suddenly, making you blink a few times. “And even though you scared the shit out of me for a moment when you fell down, you were kind of like a bambi.”

“I’m not sure what that means or if I like it.”

“I’m telling you you’re cute,” he clarifies and a blush creeps up your cheeks. “See?” He shows you the picture of you he just took and your cheeks just redden. You do look pretty cute in that. “Thanks,” you mumble, avoiding eye contact with him and trying to get past him on the ice again. He laughs quietly at that but still steps aside to let you go, putting his phone back down. As he turns around to join you again he stops for a second, simply admiring you as you spin around, doing a few tricks as you have the space now.

A part of him wishes to watch you like this forever.

“Did you know I’d be here?” You ask as you walk side by side with him outside, your hands in your hoodie pocket to keep them warm. “I did,” he admits. “I met Daniela earlier today when I stopped by your dorm and she told me you’d be here at ten.” Dani, I need to thank you for the rest of my life, you think, chuckling softly. “I see.”

“She seems nice.”

“She is,” you agree. “And so is Manon.” Jake smiles, fixing the strap of your bag as it falls off his shoulder. “Wait, shit, that means they’ll ask me about you,” you groan at the realization. Maybe you weren’t going to thank Dani for so long after all. Yes, you did enjoy your time with him but that didn’t mean you were ready for their questions when you got back. Honestly, a part of you wanted to keep it just between the two of you. A secret only you two knew about.

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to tell them?” He teases, leaning slightly down to reach your ear. You roll your eyes at how cheeky he sounds, pushing him off again. “That you’re childish.”

He chuckles. “And? What else?”

“That you still can’t skate.” He fake-gasps. You bite your bottom lip, rethinking your words as you remember the moments you spent with him on the ice. “And, maybe, that I enjoyed tonight,” you mumble, so quietly he almost doesn’t hear you.

“So you do like me!” He grins, clenching his fist in excitement as if he had just won a match against the strongest team in the league. You scoff, shaking your head at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“Idiot you might consider going out with?” Jake asks, turning his head to face you, the hope in his eyes obvious. Your breath catches in your throat, the question loud and clear. Your eyes widen and you quickly glance at him to see if he’s being serious or just joking around. When you gaze into his eyes, you get your answer.

“Maybe,” you mumble, averting your gaze again. “If you try hard enough.”

And he does. He tries as hard as he can. Not only does he walk you to your door again, almost being dragged in by Manon when she sees him, but when he gets to his own dorm, he’s already texting you. It’s a stupid question, one that makes you raise your eyebrow, but it gets the job done, and you end up texting him for the rest of the night.

You don’t think you’d be able to hide the smile he creates on your face even if you wanted to.

Especially when he keeps sending you random pictures. Of his face, his roommates, of the notes he is studying at the moment, anything and everything. He’s cute, you have to give him that.

Your Thursday lessons pass by in the blink of an eye and Friday rolls in faster than you’d expect. Jake provided you with the team practice schedule the day before and you were never this happy to know most of your lessons were in the morning and didn’t collide with any of their practice hours.

You weren’t sure how you’d face your dad just yet, but that was a fight for your future self. Right now, the first thing on your list was to get out of your room as fast as possible so you can still make it to class on time.

“You know, just saying like, you don’t need any makeup. So maybe, if you just ditched that, you won’t have to rush so much now,” Jake comments, watching you as you sit at your table, finishing up your hair. You glare at him. “I’m not letting you here again,” you warn him and he immediately raises his hands in surrender. “I got you coffee, come on!” You avert your gaze again so he wouldn’t see your smile. Because he did, and god damn. Who would have thought a man showing up at your door in the morning with a cup of coffee could be so fucking attractive?

Manon and Dani left shortly after he came but they didn’t forget to mimic kissing together before they walked out of the door. You had to roll your eyes at them because even though Jake’s lips looked attractive, you weren’t just going to make out with him in your room when you were already running behind so much.

“Okay, let’s go,” you proclaim, quickly collecting your books into a bag as you glance at him. He’s smiling when his eyes lock with yours, and it makes you melt just a bit more. “What?” you question, feeling slightly embarrassed with his eyes on you. “You’re pretty,” he says, standing up from your bed and handing you your cup of coffee. You blink a few times but before you can say anything, he is already out of the door.

“Jake, you’re impossible,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up.

You catch up to him quickly, sipping on your drink as you walk side by side with him, sneaking glances at him until he calls you out on it. “You can just say you like my face and I’ll let you look at it all day but don’t be this secretive about it. You’re not good at it anyway,” he chuckles and you close your eyes in regret. You weren’t sure if letting Jake into your life was such a good idea after all.

What even were you doing, honestly? Skating together at night, texting all day and at night where you should be long asleep, and now this. Why exactly did he just turn up at your door unannounced with your favorite coffee order as if it was normal? As if he’s been doing it for ages.

But no matter how weird or rushed it might seem, it felt somehow right. You didn’t mind the attention he was giving you, and you definitely didn’t want him to stop. If anything, a part of you was just waiting for him to take a step forward.

“I’m not looking at you,” you argue, averting your eyes.

“Right, and I’m absolutely terrible at hockey,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s fine, you can steal glances all you want. But just because it’s you.”

You feel your heart skipping a beat at his words. He had his way of gently flirting with you and it was making you crazy. You knew he was interested in you, you’d be blind not to notice that, but you still didn’t know what to do with his compliments and flirting, how to react to them.

When you got to class, you thought that was your moment, a free minute to think about everything and figure it out, figure Jake out, but you’ve barely settled down in the class when your phone buzzed, announcing a message from no one else but the lost puppy himself.

Jake: one attachment You: what exactly am I looking at? Jake: flowers You: yes, I see that You: but why? You: also don’t you have a lesson? Jake: oh, no, I’m free for another hour so I’m just walking around campus Jake: saw these and thought of you

You stared at the messages, a blush spreading across your face. He couldn’t get any better. Everything he did, every little comment or action, made you feel important, seen. And honestly, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep talking to him without pulling him into a kiss and claiming him yours.

Because right now, there was nothing you wanted to do more.

At five, you arrived at the ice rink, the loud chatter of the boys from the locker room reaching you right after you stepped inside. You chuckle at it, the familiar feeling making you at ease. You sit down at one of the benches, pulling out your phone and scrolling through your messages—a few emails from the school, a message from your girls, wishing you good luck, and also a text from your mom. You quickly open the text, smiling softly as your eyes land on a picture of your mom in a red dress, asking you if she looks good. You immediately tell her that she’s beautiful and ask her what she’s getting ready for.

Just as you do, the guys’ voices grow louder and you look up, watching them step on the ice one after another. You immediately find Jake with your eyes, your smile widening as he waves at you, skating to the plexiglass in front of you. “Come here, I’ll introduce you.”

You step on the ice in your sneakers, awkwardly smiling at the few boys staring at you. “Coach is out today, said he’s got something with his wife. He might seem a bit scary at first but he is nice, the biggest Tiger of us all,” he explains with a smile, his hair falling in front of his eyes. So that’s what mom is getting ready for, you realize.

“Oh, wait, you probably know him already, right? Would be weird if you haven’t after, what, thirteen years, huh?” He laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, quietly cursing at himself to just shut up. You chuckle, sending him a reassuring smile, your heart making a little flip at the way he remembers your words.

“Okay, well, these are the tigers. Boys, our new media girl,” your name sounds fancy on his lips, little too good, honestly. You scan the faces in front of you, a few familiar ones you remember from the hallways or parties. “If you need any help, feel free to text me,” a taller guy skates towards you, reaching his hand out. You grab it hesitantly, your eyes narrowing at the smug smirk on his face.

“Back it off, Hee,” Jake warns him, almost pushing him out of the way, which only gets the older man to laugh. “No need to worry. I’m not stealing your girl,” Heeseung chuckles, turning his head towards Jay with a knowing grin. They exchange a few words but you don’t catch them anymore, not when Jake starts talking to you, mumbling a quiet sorry.

“It’s fine,” you shake your head. “But…” a smile spreads across your lips as you gaze into his eyes, tilting your head slightly. “Your girl? How come I don’t know about that?” The worry in his eyes disappears, a hint of mischief replacing it. “They can probably just see the look in your eyes,” he proclaims, leaning in closer to reach your ear. “You’re basically undressing me with your gaze, Bambi.”

You scoff, but before you can say anything, Jake is already skating away, leading their training and you have no other choice but to go back to the bench and think about it, about him. Were you doing that? Surely not… right?

You watch Jake lead the practice and something in your shifts. As if he wasn’t already attractive enough, seeing him like this, helping everyone out and yelling at them what to do, he felt somehow hotter.

Maybe you were actually undressing him with your eyes when you thought about it.

And as if that wasn’t already enough on its own, every chance he got, he found a way over to you, asking you what you thought about them, if you were enjoying yourself, and also occasionally just saying a stupid joke that just came to mind. You laughed each time. Because no matter how stupid the joke might be, you weren’t thinking straight at the moment.

“So, what do you think? Am I good?” He leans against the plexiglass, a smug smile on his lips. You shake your head with a chuckle, stepping closer to him. For a moment, you completely forgot about the other guys on the other side of the rink, only focusing on the golden retriever in front of you. “You’re not too bad.”

“In that case,” he starts, quickly glancing around to make sure none of his teammates are standing behind him, ready to tease him to death the moment they hear him say the words out loud. “Can I finally take you out? Who wouldn’t want to date the greatest player on the hockey team?”

You roll your eyes at his confidence but don’t refuse. Instead, you think. “Alright, Manon and Dani will be gone for the weekend but I said I’d stay at the dorm. If you want, you can come over and we can watch something.”

He narrows his eyes, shaking his head. “No.”

“No?”

“I want a proper date with you. Not fuck you on the couch with a movie in the background just because you have an empty place,” he states, gazing into your eyes. Even though, if he was honest, he could still fuck you on the couch after the date if you wanted.

Your breath hitches just so slightly as you look at him, averting your eyes. God damn it, Jake. He was better and better each second, and if he was in for the long game, so were you. “Fine, then pick me up,” you mumble, refusing to look at him again. But Jake doesn’t mind because he heard what he wanted, and he couldn’t be happier at the moment.

You groan and close your eyes as you hear Jake turn around and yell “She said yes!” at his teammates, regretting your choice of date for a second. But when he glances at you again with his little boyish grin, you completely forget about it, telling him to get back to practice with a smile on your face.

When the practice wraps up, your phone is full of pictures you took of the boys as they practice (most of them of Jake because every time he saw you pulling out your phone, he got into the shot), and it makes you smile again. Just being here with them makes you happy. Watching them bicker and tease each other, it was exactly what you were missing before.

A few of the guys pat your shoulder as they leave, something about wishing you good luck but honestly, Jake is the only one you can focus on again. “Undressing me again, aren’t we?” He teases and you roll your eyes. “You’re on thin ice, boy. Might have to reconsider our date,” you warn him and he immediately raises his hands in surrender.

“Okay, my mouth is shut,” he says, getting off the ice as well. He takes off his helmet, his lips turning up in a smile again as he watches you. “Wait for me? I’ll be quick.” You nod without a second thought, agreeing.

It’s the third time he walks you back to your dorm from the ice rink. It might seem like a simple gesture, and really it is, but you still feel the warmth in your chest. You find yourself opening up to him more than night, sharing a few of your dreams and places you want to visit with him and he doesn’t miss out on the opportunity to offer you to go there with you. You brush him off but honestly, when you think about it, it doesn’t sound bad at all.

“Darling, we haven’t seen you in so long. I miss you.” You smile gently as you listen to your mother’s voice, sipping on your morning coffee. At eleven. “I know, I’m sorry. But I have a break in a month, I’ll definitely come home then, I promise,” you say, a part of you feeling sorry that you haven’t been around for so long. Your mom sighs, putting her hand over the phone microphone as she shares the information with your dad. You catch a glimpse of his voice in the background but it’s not loud enough so you could make out words out of it.

“And why not this weekend, Angel? I’ll make your favorite food.” You hesitate for a second, debating on if you should tell her or not. But in the end, honesty wins. After all, it’s your mother who you’re talking about. The same woman who held you in a tight hug after your first breakup, who told you stories about princes, saying she wishes you nothing less than a charming prince who would love you dearly. You knew she’d be happy to hear about it. Even if it means you won’t come home this weekend.

“I’ve actually got a date later tonight,” you mumble and the soft gasp that leaves her lips makes you chuckle. “Oh my! Who is the lucky boy?”

“He’s…” a smile spreads on your lips as you think back to the puppy-like-boy who’s been flirting with you since you first met him on the ice rink. “An engineering student. He…He’s nice to me, mom. And makes me smile a lot. I like him.”

“That’s great,” she nods, approving quietly. “In that case, I hope you’ll have fun tonight. And, darling.” You narrow your eyes, catching the suspicious tone in her voice. She has something planned and whatever it is, it can’t be good. “If it works out, bring him with you next time. I’d like to see him.” And you were right. Even though you knew your mom would love Jake if she met him and that Jake would love your mom, thinking about bringing him to meet your parents when you haven’t even had one date yet wasn’t something you wanted to do.

Still, you force a smile, almost as if she could see you through the phone. “Of course. I’ll see how it goes.”

The conversation changes shortly after as she asks about Manon and Dani. You tell her about how they are doing in school, how you are holding up, and the conversation just flows naturally after that.

At one point, she hands the phone to your dad and you repeat everything you just said, well, except for the fact you were going on a date. While your mom was always excited when you told her about boys you were interested in, you saw the way your dad’s jaw clenched just at a mention of a boy’s name. And while you loved being his little princess while you were little, you thought his overprotectiveness now was unnecessary.

It’s around five when you hear the knock on the door. You get up from the chair you’ve been sitting in and open the door, your eyes falling on Jake immediately. He is wearing jeans and a simple white shirt with his denim jacket over it but god, he looks fine.

“Why didn’t you call or text? I would have gotten ready first,” you mumble, stepping aside so he can walk inside. He just shakes his head, saying something about being able to be with you for longer like this. You sigh, closing the door behind him. “Alright then, how fancy do you want me?” He smiles, glancing back at you. “I want you comfortable,” he proclaims and this time it’s you shaking your head. Alright, fancy it is.

Jake settles down on your bed, his eyes following you as you scan the clothes in your closet. Then, finally, your eyes land on a brown dress, one you know hugs your body well. You glance at him with a teasing smile before grabbing the piece and disappearing into the bathroom to get dressed.

When you walk out again, Jake’s jaw is practically on the floor and he has to hold himself back as he leans against the wall, watching you from the comfort of your bed. “God,” he breathes out and you chuckle, whispering a quiet thank you as you sit down at the table beside him so you could do your makeup. “You’re beautiful, gorgeous.”

A smile spreads across your lips without you being able to control it, looking at him through your mirror. “You already convinced me to go on a date with you, no need to try so much anymore.” He only shakes his head at your words, “I’m not trying for anything. I mean it. You look amazing, love.” The nickname sends a shiver down your spine but you don’t let it show, applying your makeup and trying to ignore the blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Alright, let’s go,” you say, turning to face him. He smiles when you do, averting his eyes from you for the first time since you sat down as he gets up, offering you his hand immediately. You roll your eyes at how cheesy he is but hold his hand nonetheless, letting him lead you out of your dorm.

“Where are we going?” You wonder, following him to his car. You walk slightly ahead of him, trying to open the car door but it’s locked. He chuckles, shaking his head as he reaches you, unlocking the car with a simple click of a button and then opening the door for you. “You think I’d let you open that on your own?” You blink a few times, sliding into the passenger seat without another word. You weren’t sure how you were going to survive the night if he had your heart racing so much already.

The drive is calm, quiet, with jvke playing on the radio, only setting the mood for what’s to come. You softly hum to the songs as you look out the window, smiling. You weren’t even doing anything yet and it already felt nice. Just being with him, spending time together, was enough.

When the car stops again and you try to open the door to step out, Jake sends you a warning glare, making you chuckle. Your hand falls back to your side while he walks around the car, opening the door for you and offering you his hand to help you step out. You shake your head at him, squeezing his hand tighter as he locks his car. “You really don’t have to do all that.”

“Opening the door for you is the least I can do,” he assures you, the puppy eyes he gives you making your heart skip a beat. “Let’s go, everything is prepared already,” he says, taking you towards one of the buildings beside you.

Your mouth falls open in awe as you step on the empty rooftop, your eyes landing on the blanket set in the middle with two baskets full of—how you assumed—food. You glance at him immediately, your eyes wide as you search for anything that might prove this isn’t real. Because honestly, how could it be? How lucky did you have to be to meet this man?

“How did you–”

“I have connections,” he shrugs, smirking when he sees your face. The innocent smile, with those wide eyes of yours was something he could look at forever. “I wasn’t sure what you would like but I thought dinner couldn’t go wrong, right?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You don’t answer him immediately. Instead, you move your hand to his forearm, squeezing it tightly as you stand on your tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Jake has to blink a few times to process what’s happening and before he can do anything, grab your waist, kiss you on the lips, smile, respond, anything, you’re already walking away, sitting down on the blanket he prepared earlier.

He chuckles, shaking his head in awe as he comes to sit down beside you. You smile as you watch him, genuinely happy. “This is amazing, Jake. You couldn’t have made the first date better.” He smiles as well, opening the basket and taking out a bottle of wine. “I assure you it will be even better with this wine.” You laugh, taking out two glasses out of the basket and moving them towards him so he could pour the wine.

The night went on with Jake feeding you all sorts of fruits he brought after you ate a dinner he ordered, drinking wine under the moonlight and watching the stars appear in the sky as you talked about all sorts of things. You’ve found a comfort rhythm together, making it feel easy to talk to him. And honestly, it felt almost like you were an old couple already, on your tenth date as least. It was a comfortable feeling.

“Do you have any plans for the upcoming break?” You ask, taking a bite of a strawberry. “I was planning to go home, be with my parents and hang out with the guys. Riki has been bothering me about wanting to go out play basketball lately,” he laughs quietly at the thought, his smile turning into a teasing grin when his eyes land on yours again. “Why? Want to do something together?”

You hesitate, rethinking if it was an appropriate topic of conversation when it was only your first date but the look in his eyes reassured you that whatever you want to say, he isn’t going to run away. “I might have mentioned you to my mom earlier today,” you admit and his eyes immediately light up. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Said that you’re an annoying little puppy that has been following me around for weeks,” you stick out your tongue, making him laugh. “Yeah, and what else?” He teases, leaning back on his elbows. Your eyes shift to something more serious but the smile on your lips never leaves. “That I like you, and hope this works out.”

“I like you too,” he says without a second of hesitation and you can feel your cheeks heating up. He said it as if it was easy, no big deal. “She told me to bring you with me,” you add, searching for any sign of discomfort in his eyes. He doesn’t budge a bit though, his smile only growing wider as he nods. “I’d like that, for sure. Riki and his basketball can wait.”

“Are you sure? You should probably be with your family. And if Riki has been asking you for so long–”

Your name leaves his lips, interrupting you. Your cheeks flush pink and you gaze into his eyes again, swallowing a lump in your throat. God, why does your name sound so good coming from his mouth? “I’d let Riki wait for the rest of my life if it means being able to spend more time with you.”

“He probably wouldn’t like hearing that,” you say, trying to mask the fact your heart is practically about to jump out of your chest. Because Jake? He had a way with words. But not only that. In the end, it came down to him as a whole. The way his eyes wandered over your body, the way he always knew what to say and do, the way he put so much effort into your first date—yeah, you did want to bring him to meet your mom. Who cared that this was only your first date? You knew it wasn’t the last.

“That’s fine. I only care about what you like hearing.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, finishing the rest of the wine you had in your glass before standing up, walking to the rooftop edge. You lean forward, looking down at the street beneath you, watching the cars drive through and people walk to their homes.

Jake admires you for a second before getting up as well, walking over to you. He hesitates for a second but then hooks his arm around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder with a smile. You freeze for a moment, slowly turning your head towards him. “Jake,” you whisper, your breath landing right on his lips. “Yeah?” Your breath hitches as you gaze into his eyes, his close presence sending shivers down your spine. Not in a bad way, though. A far from it, actually.

Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips and that’s all Jake needs before quickly spinning you around so your body would face him. He doesn’t wait for anything anymore and crashes his lips with yours, his hands coming to hold your head. His thumb brushes over your cheek as he pulls you closer to himself, kissing you as if you were the air he breathes. As if you were the only person in the world.

And you kiss him back with just as much passion, one of your hands resting on his chest while the other holds onto his shirt, keeping him as close as possible. His right hand slowly moves down to explore the curves of your body, fingers digging into the skin on your waist in an almost possessive way. You moan under his touch, never pulling away, not even as his hand slides lower, wandering over your thigh before holding onto it, making you raise your leg and wrap it around him.

“Fuck, wait,” Jake is the first to pull away, breathles as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thigh, still holding your leg around his waist. “Wait,” he repeats, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes, a soft groan leaving his lips. Your eyes widen, and even though he told you to wait, you kiss him again, the little sound he left out driving you crazy.

Your body fits perfectly with his and you melt into him, the movements so natural you forget this is the first time your lips met him for a moment. Jake pulls away again, stopping you before things can turn in the wrong direction. Because fuck. He felt that kiss in every part of his body.

“What’s wrong?” You frown, slowly standing on both of your feet again. “Nothing!” He panics immediately, his eyes shooting up to meet yours. “No, this was– This was perfect, like I can’t even–” You chuckle as he stutters, trying to find the right words. His cheeks have turned pink, making him cuter than you’d admit. “I just,” he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “I don’t want our first date to go like that.”

You raise an eyebrow at that before it finally clicks and you realize what he’s referring to. Your eyes soften, your lips turning into a smile. You can see it all in his eyes, the way he holds himself back, the way he eats your whole body with his eyes and yet, still only thinks about how to make your date perfect.

“Alright, but what if I want to kiss you again?”

“Then I’ll try really hard not to get hard.”

You chuckle, the smile staying on your lips as you watch him. “Come here,” you say and he closes the space between you again. You place a soft kiss on his cheek, your hands resting on his shoulders. “Thank you. For trying so hard and making this the best first date I’ve been on.” You pull back again, scanning his features for a second. He looks proud of himself but also genuinely happy, his cheeks still slightly pink. You walk past him, getting back to the blanket while he stands still, thinking about everything that just happened.

You glance over your shoulder at him, smiling. “Let’s go?” He nods, catching up to you and casually throwing his jacket over your shoulders as you crouch down to clean up. “Come on, I got it,” he says, squatting beside you and filling the baskets again with the food you haven’t finished.

“You’re going to be cold,” you mumble as you stand up again and let him pick it all up. He only throws you a glance and you squeeze the jacket around your shoulder tighter, ignoring the way your heart tries to get out of your chest.

Jake leaves everything in his car and walks you up to your dorm, lingering in the doorway. “If you want to come inside, I wouldn’t mind,” you offer, opening your door. He smiles as he looks you up and down, taking the sight of you into his head once more. “I’ll come inside another time. If we win our next game. I can promise you that,” he answers, and you roll your eyes at him, masking the fact that maybe you wouldn’t mind that.

“You’ll have to dream about that.”

“Oh, trust me, I will.”

You smile, “Good night, Jake.”

Jake smiles as well, a soft genuine smile you could find yourself falling for. “Good night, love.”

On Monday afternoon, you spend a little too long in the bathroom and your roommates notice, watching you from the doorway with curious expressions. You sigh, turning to them. “I’m overthinking it,” you breathe out and Manon nods immediately. “What’s going on?”

“This is the first time I’m going to see Jake since our date. I don’t know, I’m nervous!” You explain, groaning. Daniella only laughs at you, shaking her head. “So? You’ll watch him be all hot on the ice, take a few funny videos and then you can make out with him against the plexiglass. What’s the big deal?”

You roll your eyes at her, pushing past them and stepping out of the bathroom. “How am I supposed to just be there and act all normal around him? What if his teammates know?” You quickly shoot them a glance, making the two girls laugh. “Oh they definitely know,” Manon assures you. “You think he wouldn’t brag about absolutely winning you over with that date?”

“And even if he didn’t tell them, one look at you and they’ll all see you’re absolutely head over heels for him,” Dani adds, plopping down onto her bed.

“Just kill me,” you whine, jumping onto your bed as well.

But honestly, Jake should be the one you worry about the least. Because it wasn’t him who was going to be surprised to see you on the ice.

Shortly after, a loud knock on the door echoes through the dorm and Manon goes to open it, stepping aside immediately when her eyes land on the hockey captain. You hear his chuckle when he comes closer to you and when you open your eyes to look at him, his hand is reached out towards you, helping you get up. “Let’s go. I can’t be late,” his voice is soft, causing a blush to creep up your cheeks as you gently hold onto his hand. He laces your fingers together, offering your roommates a quick hello with a smile before walking off with you by his side.

You’re laughing when you enter the ice rink. Jake quickly disappears into the changing rooms but doesn’t forget to kiss you before he does, making you freeze in your place for a second as you watch him. Suddenly, you don’t feel so scared about how things were going to look like. Because with Jake, it felt easy.

Except it wasn’t.

Because as you enter the playground, your eyes fall to a person you completely forgot would be here today—your dad. Oh god. Okay. You take a deep breath as you walk towards him, preparing what you were going to say. He doesn’t notice you approaching as he focuses on his conversation with the goalie, Intak if you remember correctly. You clear your throat nervously, getting their attention. “Sorry to interrupt,” you start, watching as your dad’s eyes widen when he realizes you’re there. “I just wanted to say that I’m here.”

Intak smiles at you immediately, greeting you warmly before skating off to warm up, assuring you their conversation already ended. You finally look your dad in the eyes, catching the mixture of emotions in them. Is he mad, glad to see you, or even disappointed? You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to find the right words to say. Then, his lips curl into a smile and he pulls you into a hug, making all your worries vanish.

“What are you doing here, darling?” He asks as he takes a step back again. “Well, I know you said– I know you don’t want me here, for whatever reasons but…the guys asked me to be their media girl and I thought– it was a way to get back again,” you start blurting out words, unsure if they even make sense, avoiding eye contact as you wonder what he’s going to do. Kick you out, remind you you’re not supposed to be here? Whatever it is, you don’t want to hear it.

But then he says what you least expected. “Angel, it’s fine,” he chuckles. “I know I…told you not to come here anymore but I’m glad you’re here.”

“You are?” Your eyes lit up with a spark of hope. “How could I not be? You’re my daughter, I’m not going to say no to hanging out with you. And also, your mom has been all over me lately, telling me I’ve gone too far and should let you come here when the ice is free,” he sighs.

“Why didn’t you want me here in the first place?” You wonder hesitantly, watching his smile fall, catching a spark of regret in his expression. “It was stupid,” he admits. “I’ve realized that right after I’ve done it. I just thought that now you’re all grown up you…”

Before he can finish, another voice interrupts him and you feel a familiar arm hook around your waist. “Coach! I see you’re already getting to know our new addition to the team, this is–”

“Hands off my daughter, Sim. Immediately,” your dad commands, his eyes darkening as he watches his captain pull you close so naturally.

Jake’s eyes widen and he obeys right away, blinking a few times as he places the pieces together. “Your daughter?” He asks, trying to remain calm. But honestly, he was far from that. “You didn’t know?” He frowns, scanning the boy with his dark eyes. “Uhm, no, sir,” Jake answers, quickly glancing at you for some sort of explanation. You just swallow a lump in your throat, trying to figure out what even is the right thing to say at the moment.

“Dad, stop. He did nothing wrong.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you on my ice.”

You frown, a part of you mad at your dad again. Because what did that even mean? That his reason behind forbidding you to skate was even stupider than he made it seem seconds ago? “What, Jake? The guys? You can’t be serious, right?”

“I am serious. These guys are exactly what I’ve tried to keep you away. I know them, know what they are like. These players scream trouble.”

You scoff, “ironic coming from a NHL player, don’t you think?” Unbelievable. You turn to face Jake, ready to assure him, tell him to ignore your dad, but before you can even as much reach for his hand, he steps away, his gaze fixated on his coach. “I’m sorry. I’m gonna…start the practice,” he excuses himself quickly, disappearing without a single glance in your direction.

If you were mad before? You’re furious now. “Great. Really great, dad. Thanks for ruining all the good things in my life. As if taking skating from me for months wasn’t already enough.” Before he can say anything, argue or apologize, you’re already on your way out of the complex, ignoring his calls after you.

You manage to bump into Heeseung on your way out, mumbling a quiet sorry as you try to move past him. He frowns, stopping you. “You okay?” He asks but you just brush him off, sparing him just one simple glance before he moves aside, letting you leave. When you step out, you realize it was so easy because there are tears in your eyes.

You wipe them off with the back of your hand, cursing yourself out. You’re not sure why you’re crying, if it’s all the frustration building up in you, your hormones making fun of you, or because Jake, the boy who made you feel so good in the past few weeks, has just acted like he barely knew you.

You hated the feeling.

Heeseung quickly blurts out an apology as he steps on the ice, frowning when he sees no one is paying him any attention. He skates towards the others, raising an eyebrow confusedly at the way the coach’s eyes stay glued to Jake, following his every movement. “Jake!” He calls after him, bringing him back to reality. “What?” Jake blinks a few times, subconsciously glancing at the coach nervously before focusing on his friend.

“What did you do? Why did I just see your girlfriend run out of here crying?” He questions and Jake’s eyes widen immediately. He doesn’t even care to correct Heeseung that you’re not his girlfriend as he asks a different question, “she was crying?”

“Yeah, man. I don’t know what happened but she looked…sad, broken I’d say even.” Jake’s hand clenches into a fist, partly mad at himself for disappearing like that before and partly just…worried. Whatever it is that got you feeling like this, he hates it. And he hates himself even more, knowing he might be the reason.

Jake is out of focus for the rest of the training, too lost to even notice the coach yelling at him for being on a completely different side than he should be. It’s all in a blur, the whole training, the way he crashes with Taehyun as they do speed drills (Jake’s fault, no doubt), and even the way some of the guys ask him why you’re not here and if you’ve already decided you don’t want to be their media girl.

His head is fully occupied with the thought of you, the way you tried to reach for his hand before but he just stepped back, the way you looked at him when the coach said something about Jake not being good enough (he didn’t but that was how Jake interpreted it), and the way you had kissed him just a few days ago.

So, naturally, when practice came to an end, he tried to get off the ice as soon as possible, needing to see you, talk to you, apologize, and kiss you again.

But he had to freeze mid movement as the coach’s voice rang in his ears, calling after him. Jake made a spin, a soft sigh escaping his lips when he saw the look on his face. “Get changed and come see me in my office, Sim.”

“Yes, sir,” Jake mumbles back, no questions needed. It was way too obvious what he wanted to talk about.

“What did you do?” Keeho asks curiously, glancing at the captain as he takes his gear off. “Don’t even ask,” Jake groans, sitting down in his place. “Did you guys know she is his daughter?” He shoots them all a look, the hidden desperation to find out he wasn’t the only one out of the picture passing by unnoticed. “Who?” Kai frowns confusedly.

“Guess. Maybe the only girl Jake ever flirted with?” Taehyun chuckles, making Jake roll his eyes. “She isn’t the only girl I ever flirted with,” he argues but Taehyun doesn’t care enough to argue back. He just shakes his head, gently patting his shoulder as he moves to the showers.

“She’s the coach’s daughter?” Jay speaks up, getting Jake’s attention immediately as he nods fiercely. “Apparently! He almost killed me when I put my hand around her waist earlier!”

“And what did you do?” Intak eyed him from across the room. “Left,” he answers, so quietly the guys around him almost don’t hear him. Heeseung, however, catches it, his eyes widening. “You what?! Is that why she was crying?”

“I don’t know!” Jake groans, hiding his face in his hands. “And now coach wants to speak with me as well. I don’t want to speak to him! What if he kills me?”

“Should have thought about that before you made moves,” Intak snickers, disappearing into the showers as well.

Slowly, everyone gets into the showers so they can be back at their dorms sooner but Jake takes his sweet time, delaying the meeting for as long as possible. However, when Huening peeks back into the dressing room a few minutes after he’s left to inform Jake about the fact the coach looks impatient, he collects his things and finally makes his way out of the dressing room.

“You wanted to see me?” Jake says awkwardly as he steps into the office, placing his bag on the floor near the door but not sitting in the empty chair in front of him. All of a sudden, it didn’t feel the same as when he came into the office after practice to discuss game tactics. “You can sit down, Jake,” he says, more calm this time.

The hockey player nods hesitantly, taking a few steps forward and then sliding into the chair. He stares down at the table, thinking about what he was supposed to say, how he would explain himself. “So,” the man clears his throat and Jake finally looks up. “You’ve been…seeing my daughter?”

“Uhm,” Jake hesitates but when he sees the look on his face, he realizes lying isn’t going to get him anywhere. “Yes, I’ve– We met here a few weeks ago when I stayed late after practice to train some more.”

He hums in response, eyeing him up and down. Jake swallows a lump in his throat. “And I’d like to keep getting to know her if that’s okay with you.” The coach stays quiet for a while, his brows furrowed into the same thoughtful look he always had while watching a team’s gameplay and figuring out what they could do to stop them. It makes Jake nervous.

“And you’re the guy my wife told me about before? The one she had a date with this weekend?”

“That would be me,” he nods.

“What did you do?”

“We had dinner together, sir.”

“And then?”

“I…took her back to her dorm. Walk her to the door and then we parted ways.”

“You didn’t come in?”

“No, sir,” Jake answers, frowning slightly. “I was respectful the whole time,” he adds, leaving out the fact he almost got a boner after kissing you. That definitely wasn’t something he’d want to discuss with your father.

He hums again, not saying anything else.

“I want you to keep your distance,” he proclaims suddenly, making Jake’s eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me, didn’t you? You have games to focus on, tactics to go through and teammates that rely on you. You need to have a clear head with no distractions if you want to take it somewhere.”

Jake wants to argue, say that you’re not a distraction, that he can easily play as well as he did until now and still be a good boyfriend to you, but when he sees the firm look on his coach’s face, one telling him that it’s already decided and he can’t do anything about it, he only squeezes his hand into a fist, gripping tightly onto his pants as if that could possibly ground him.

“You can go now,” he says but it’s more like a command, telling him to get out of his sight. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, rest well.”

“Right,” Jake mumbles, the sound coming out more grumpy than he’d intended for it to. He doesn’t care to apologize though, pushing the chair back and getting out of the office as soon as he can, almost forgetting to grab his bag on his way out.

Jake [19:52]: I’m sorry Jake [19:52]: for brushing you off like that before

You stare at his messages for a few seconds, squeezing the phone tight in your hands as if that could make them go away. Well, maybe if you squeeze hard enough they will. You sigh, turning it off. You’re not even sure what or who you’re mad at but the feeling sits on your shoulders, reading the messages with you and it makes you feel even worse.

Manon looks at you from across the room, glancing at Daniella before they both walk over to you, sitting on your side each and pulling you into a hug. You chuckle softly but in reality, it comes out broken. “Men are idiots.”

“Absolutely,” Manon agrees, her grip tightening just a little. You smile, allowing yourself to melt in their warm embrace. “Yeah but one of them is my dad and the other a boy I really want to keep in my life.”

“And that’s fine, just–” before Dani can finish her sentence, probably say something about how there will be more men interested in you and that Jake doesn’t have to be the one you settle for, your phone lights up again with another message from him.

Jake [19:55]: Your dad held me after practice, wanted to talk to me

You blink, ignoring Daniella’s frown and unlocking your phone immediately.

you [19:55]: About? Jake [19:55]: Us Jake [19:55]: He asked me about our date Jake [19:55]: What we did and then basically if we slept together you [19:56]: what did you tell him? Jake [19:56]: The truth Jake [19:56]: That I took you back home and left immediately after you [19:57]: hm Jake [19:57]: I’m sorry, Bambi Jake [19:57]: I planned on running to you right after practice you [19:59]: But you didn’t Jake [19:59]: your dad told me to stop seeing you

Your heart drops when you read the last text, part of you mad at your father, the other just disappointed. Because if your dad telling him to stop was enough for him to actually do so, then maybe you were wrong about him all along.

Jake [20:00]: he practically told me that if I want to play I have to

“My dad is officially not an actual person,” you groan dramatically, showing the text messages to your two friends. Dani reads through them with a frown, judging every word silently.

you [20:01]: Are you going to listen to him? Jake [20:01]: I don’t know

You want to tell him that if he’s even thinking about it then you should put an end to whatever it is that’s between you two, you should tell him that but as you watch the three dots appear and disappear all over again, you decide you can’t.

So instead, you change the topic of your discussion, acting as if nothing happened. You can sense that Jake is somewhat relieved when you do but it lingers in the air for the rest of the conversation. How could it not?

You know Dani judges you when she sits at her bed again and focuses back on her work but you try to ignore it, focusing on Manon’s support as she encourages you to text him, and then eventually, when the clock hits eleven, forcing you to talk about the elephant in the room as well.

You sigh but listen anyway, your fingers hesitantly moving across your phone keyboard. And so, you talk about it. About what your father said, how you feel about it, and how Jake wants to do the complete opposite of what his coach told him to. It makes you smile.

you [23:26]: How about this you [23:26]: We can pretend to listen to him Jake [23:26]: I’m listening Jake [23:26]: Enlighten me princess you [23:27]: Shut up you [23:27]: Around him, I can pretend I’m mad at you you [23:27]: And we won’t talk you [23:27]: You’ll simply act like he asked you to you [23:28]: while in private… Jake [23:28]: We continue seeing each other you [23:28]: exactly Jake [23:28]: I can definitely work with that Jake [23:29]: it’s not like I want him around on our dates anyway Jake [23:29]: Even less if I’m coming in you like I promised

You roll your eyes at him, ignoring the smile that spreads across your lips as you read his messages. Who cares what your father thinks. If Jake is supposed to scream trouble, you’ll gladly listen to it all.

The following days pass by exactly how you planned. You stay as the team’s media girl, talking to your dad as if nothing ever happened and acting as if Jake didn’t exist. And then, in private, you make use of all the time you can get together.

“Missed you,” Jake mumbles as his lips crash with yours, guiding you towards his bed. You smile into the kiss, your hand finding a few hair strands and tugging at them slightly. He groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “You were with me the whole evening,” you remind him, holding onto his collar as you sit down on his bed, bringing him down with you. “That’s different,” he argues, stealing another kiss from you.

His hand grips onto your waist, keeping you as close as possible, his lips never leaving yours. “Well, if you want to be with me more, feel free to tell my dad,” you smirk, pushing him off slightly. He frowns, “don’t talk about my coach while being in my bed.” You giggle, a soft sound that makes Jake’s heart skip a beat.

“Then talk about what you want to talk about,” you tease, moving back until your back hits the wall. He immediately moves to sit in front of you, his hands gently parting your legs so he can move between them, coming closer as he kisses you again with so much need it causes a moan to escape your lips.

“Be my girlfriend,” he says between kisses, squeezing your tights firmly. Your eyes widen immediately but the surprise vanishes when you see his sincere eyes, waiting for your answer, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “That’s how you ask a girl you like?” You tease him, trying to ignore the butterflies forming in your stomach.

“Please,” your name on his lips makes you weak every time but now that he has that look in his eyes—the one that makes you want to kiss him until neither of you is able to breathe—it makes it even harder for you not to jump him immediately. “Let me take care of you, cherish you, and make you smile every day as your boyfriend. Because as much as I love this, I want to be yours completely.”

By the time he finishes his sentence, you’re already pulling him in for another kiss, your cheeks completely red and your heart beating faster than before. Because, god, Jake Sim was going to be the end of you. “Yeah, I’d like that,” you say and he immediately cups your face, pulling you even closer than before, his body fully on yours now.

His hand moves down again, his fingers gently wandering under your shirt when the door swings open and you quickly push him off, turning your head to see who came in. “God, get your own room for this,” Jay groans, closing the door behind himself. Jake sighs, running a hand through his hair before glancing at you, giving you one of his boyish grins. Your breath hitches for just a second before you clear your throat, recollecting yourself.

“I thought you would be out,” Jake shrugs, moving to sit beside you, casually hooking his arm around your shoulders. You smile at him and shake your head slightly. “It’s fine, I should go anyway. I still have stuff to learn.” He turns his head to you to argue but when he sees your soft, reassuring smile, he just nods. “Text me later?”

“Of course,” you nod, leaning closer to place one last kiss on his lips before standing up. “Don’t kill Jay while I’m gone.”

“I’ll try,” Jake promises with a laugh, watching you leave the dorm with a smile.

“Sorry, man. I didn’t know you two would be here. Put a sock on the knob next time or something,” Jay sighs, throwing his bag onto his bed. Jake just shakes his head, brushing him off by saying it’s fine. “Sunghoon has practice later and I have a date so if you want, the room will be free then.”

“You’ve heard the lady, she has work to do,” Jake chuckles. “But thanks, I’ll figure something out.”

Jake must have been the luckiest person to ever live because what were the chances of having an empty dorm and a girlfriend who loves to make him go crazy?

Jake [21:05]: Still studying?

He waits for an answer for a few minutes, trying to focus on his own work but honestly, it’s impossible. He reaches for his phone to check his messages when it suddenly lights up, announcing that you answered. He doesn’t hesitate at all as he opens your conversation, his eyes widening when he sees the picture you’ve sent him.

It’s simple; you lying in your bed, your hair a mess on your pillow with your lips slightly parted, your eyes piercing at him through the screen. He groans as he watches you, his eyes falling to your bare shoulders. You’re in a white tank top, the straps falling off your shoulders enough for him to picture how you’d look with nothing to cover your body.

Before he can do anything about it, he remembers how you laid in his bed just mere hours ago, thinking about how it’d feel to have you here again. You, bend over this very desk he’s been sitting at for the past hours, when he finally gets to touch you in a way he dreamed of from the very first moment he laid his eyes on you. He can hear you moaning his name and groans, sliding his hand between his legs.

He palms himself at the thought of you, your pretty eyes looking at him as he slides his tongue between your folds, knowing you taste incredible. He closes his eyes shut, his brows furrowing as he thinks about you in his bed, screaming for him to slow down to loudly all the kids on this floor would know just how good he makes you feel.

He thinks about you in every part of his dorm, the shower, where he helps you wash up just for his cock to find your hole again, at the entrance where you’re so impatient you can’t even wait to get to his bed before you wrap yourself around him, even on the floor, sucking him off under the table while he tries to focus on the new hockey tactics you helped him come up with before.

He chases his high as he thinks about what kind of face you make when you come, his hand moving faster, with more force. Soft moans leave his lips as he reaches the edge, his cock twitching in his hand and your name falling off his tongue before he releases, imagining it’s your mouth wrapped around him, your lips that swallow his sperm.

“Fuck,” he curses, his head falling back as he catches his breath, pushing all the dirty thoughts that still hang in his head aside as he looks at your photo again, typing his answer.

Jake [21:17]: That’s my pretty girl you [21:17]: Took you a while to answer for someone whose I’m supposed to be Jake [21:17: had a problem I needed to take care of, sorry baby

Your cheeks flush red immediately when you read his message, your mind going blank. Daniella notices the shift in your behaviour but before she can say anything, you run away to the bathroom, locking the door behind you as you slide to the floor against the door, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.

you [21:18]: Show?

You bite the inside of your cheek as you wait for his response, the room getting hotter when you see a picture he sent you. You swallow hard, feeling your pussy clench around nothing but thin air as you stare at the picture of his hard cock in his hand, catching a glimpse of his cum. God.

He’s big, bigger than you expected. You slide your pants down with ease, your fingers finding your clit immediately. You bite onto your bottom lip so you wouldn’t let out any sounds, keeping your eyes on his picture.

Jake [21:20]: Feels good?

He sends the questions as he palms himself again, watching the three dots appear and disappear again. He smirks, knowing damn well what he’s doing to you.

you [21:20]: yeah

You send him a quick picture of you sitting on the floor, two fingers deep in your hole while your thumb presses against your clit. Your face is out of the picture but you know he won’t mind that, not when he now has a better material to jerk off to.

You keep your eyes on your phone, reading through his new messages as he praises you while also trying to guide you through it. It works. Too damn much, if you’re honest. You close your eyes as you feel your orgasm building up, the thought of his long fingers (that you fantasized so much about before) replacing yours sending you over the edge.

You sigh, your breathing heavy as you text him again, trying to calm down. If you don’t find a time when no one will be at the dorm quickly, you’re sure to go crazy soon.

The following Saturday you find yourself standing in the coaching box alongside your dad, watching your boyfriend and his team skate around the rink. It’s the second period already and Tigers are winning by three points but you can’t help but feel nervous every time they lose the puck. Maybe because it’s the first game you’re watching as a girlfriend of one of the players, or maybe because you know there are scouts watching the game and this could be a great opportunity for Jake (or any of his teammates).

You yell excitedly, cheering them on as you see the number four pass by two defenders all alone, the nervousness building up in you as you watch Jake make it to the goal. “Come on, come on,” you mumble as he shoots, praying for the puck to make it in. “Yes!” The whole team yells at the same time as Jake scores another point for them.

The buzzer announcing the period end rings in your ear and you watch Jake skate towards the bench as quickly as he can, wishing to do nothing more than to pull you into the warmest hug he can. However, before he can do anything stupid, his coach pulls him into a hug instead, patting Jake’s back while praising him about the goal he just made.

Still, his eyes stay glued to you, his coach’s words passing unnoticed by him. You smile at him, jokingly rolling your eyes when you see your dad. Jake chuckles, taking a step back and finally looking at the coach.

“Thanks, coach,” he laughs before his teammates pull him into another hug. Your dad walks back to you, smiling proudly. “He’s going to take it far. If he’s lucky the scouts are all already writing his name down.” You smile as well, glancing at Jake for a brief second before you mask your excitement again. “Yeah, he isn’t all bad,” you mumble, making sure not to pay him more attention than absolutely necessary. Because if Jake’s truly lucky, your dad won’t notice the way his eyes linger on you throughout the whole fifteen minute break.

The third period passes in a blur, ending with the Tigers’ win eventually. You watch as Jake and Heeseung find each other when the game ends, laughing as they pull each other into a hug. Huening and Jay skate to them immediately after, the rest of the guys following as soon as they can, jumping from the bench and skating to them to celebrate. You smile, a proud genuine smile your dad hasn’t seen on your face in what feels like ages. At that moment, it was completely clear to him that forbidding you from stepping on the ice was a bad idea all along. Because this was where you belonged, in the stands, watching his team take home another win just like you always had.

“God, you were so pretty standing there and cheering me on,” Jake mumbles against your lips as he kisses you again, his hands wandering under your shirt. Your back hits the wall as he cups your breast in his hand, moving to kiss your jaw. “Are you sure no one’s here?” You ask, tilting your head slightly to give him more space as he moves lower, placing wet kisses on your neck.

“The guys are all long gone. I told them not to wait for me,” he says and you gasp as you feel his teeth on your skin. The game ended almost an hour ago, no one should be at the rink anymore. Yet, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you could get caught any minute. Even though the changing rooms were more private than the game area, it still felt too exposed. You just want to take him back home with you but you know that isn’t possible, not when both of your roommates are there.

With the way he sucks onto your neck he’ll definitely leave hickeys but you’re not in the right mind to care enough, so, instead of telling him to be careful not to leave any visible marks, your hand finds his hair and you keep him in place, a soft moan escaping your lips at the feeling. He smirks, rolling up your shirt to get a better view. “Remember my promise?”

“That you’d come inside of me if you win the game? Very clearly,” you assure him, your breath hitching when his cold fingers wander over your bare skin. He smirks as he watches you, his hand moving to your back, holding onto your bra clips. “Can I take this off?” You nod, your eyes following his every movement. He’s hot with his hair still wet from his previous shower, standing in front of you in that annoyingly handsome tank top of his.

He unclips your bra, letting it fall to the floor. He groans at the sight, feeling his cock twitch in his pants. But just as he leans down, cupping one of your breasts with his hand and kissing the other one, the door swings open and he is quick to fix your shirt so that whoever just walked in won’t see what’s meant for his eyes only. Probably a cleaning lady, he forgot about the possibility of one of them coming in. Still though, how unlucky did he have to be to be interrupted both times he was about to be intimate with you?

He opens his eyes, ready to apologize to the lady for still being here but he stops when his eyes land on a male figure instead, the words catching in his throat.

“What the hell is going on here?” Your father’s voice rings in your ears and you quickly stumble forward to collect your bra from the floor, hiding behind your boyfriend to put it back on. Jake clears his throat in the meantime, opening his mouth and closing it again because truly, he had no idea what the appropriate answer to that question was.

“Sim?” His voice is stronger now, sending shivers down Jake’s spine. “We uhm– this isn’t–” he tries to figure something out but when he comes to the conclusion there’s no possible way out of this, he closes his mouth again.

He calls out your name next and you squeeze your eyes shut as you take a step forward again, standing by Jake’s side. “We are going home. Now. And you, Sim,” he turns to him again, staring a hole in the middle of his eyes. “We will talk about this later. I thought you had a good shot at making it somewhere but you– don’t expect to play on my team again.”

“What?!” You and Jake shout at the same time. You immediately look at him, your eyes full of regret while his just show…fear, vulnerability. You hate seeing that. “You can’t be serious!” you yell, looking at your father again. “You can’t– He is your best player! You’ve seen him play today! You hugged him and called him son!” you remind him but your dad just scoffs. “I’m not talking to you about this. Take your things and get to the car. End of discussion.”

“No, you–” you try to argue again but Jake stops you, holding your hand in his and making you look at him. “It’s fine, darling,” he assures you, giving you one of his smiles, except this time it not only feels but also looks forced. You open your mouth again but he leans down and presses his lips on yours, squeezing your hand tightly so you’d know he is there. “I don’t regret you in the tiniest bit,” he says gently, slowly letting you go. The pain in his eyes makes it feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest and there is nothing you can do about it. You hate the feeling.

“Go,” he nods, mouthing the words “text you” as he places his hand on your lower back and guides you forward until you finally move on your own, stopping only once you reach your dad. “Fuck you,” you look him straight in the eyes with not a single care in the world before walking past him to get outside.

Jake exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I love her,” he proclaims confidently, catching his coach off guard. Your dad stands at the door, still trying to make sense of what just happened and if you really cussed him out. He focuses on Jake again, his glare never falling. “And honestly, I don’t care if you won’t let me play because of it. But we both know Heeseung won’t perform that well without his duo and it’ll only be a matter of time before the team falls.”

“Are you threatening me?” He raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“No. That’s your hobby lately, don’t you think?” Jake doesn’t say anything else, taking all his things along with your jacket that you left just lying on one of the benches and making his way past the coach. He stops again in the doorway, hesitating for a second. “I won’t stop seeing her.”

“Right,” the coach mumbles but all the confidence he had while yelling at the two before is gone, replaced with uncertainty and fear. “Good luck with the rest of the season,” Jake adds, the genuinity in his voice only pissing off the coach more.

The door closes again and just like that, he’s standing there alone. He needs to blink a few times to gain control again because everything about this conversation was only proving him of the fact he had no control anymore. His little girl was growing up faster than he could comprehend, and his team was slipping through his fingers just as fast. He knew what Jake was like and that he had a great potential to continue with hockey and honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was protecting his daughter’s future on Jake’s.

“Darling,” he breathes out as he slides into the driver’s seat. You don’t turn to look at your dad though, focusing solely on the game on your phone. He sighs, running a hand through his hair before fastening his seatbelt. “I’m just looking out for you. You have the whole life ahead of you, so many opportunities and goals to still achieve.”

You scoff, ending the game and switching to instagram to scroll through new posts, not paying him the slightest bit of attention. Your childhood nickname falls from his lips and you squeeze your phone tighter, holding onto the last bit of strength you had. He sighs again, starting the car and driving off the parking lot.

You sit in silence, still on your phone and texting Jake to even notice the road you’re taking, ignoring the way you catch your dad’s eyes in the rearview mirror every now and then.

you [14:26]: The worst card ride ever Jake [14:26]: it’ll be fine love Jake [14:26]: you just need to make it back to the dorm and then we can go out Jake [14:26]: I’ll take you out on dinner, hm? Jake [14:26]: what do you say? you [14:27]: I say that I’d absolutely love that Jake [14:27]: okay good <3 Jake [14:27]: I need to give you back your jacket anyway

It’s only then that you notice the missing piece of clothes, smiling as you read his messages. No matter how mad you were seconds ago, he managed to calm you down in the single minute you talked with him. And that was something you weren’t giving up on, no matter how much your dad wanted you to.

you [14:28]: Shouldn’t it be me stealing your clothes sir? Jake [14:28]: Just say a word and all my hoodies are yours Jake [14:28]: I’d actually kill to see you in my clothes Jake [14:28]: Please

You giggle, stretching your legs slightly. Your dad looks at you immediately, the grip he has on the steering wheel tightening as he notices Jake’s name on your screen, a mix of emotions rushing through him. He wants to be happy for you, cheer you on in your relationship if he had you smiling like this, but he just can’t push aside the thoughts of what the future holds. You being with Jake could make him give up his career for you or it could make you give up on your dreams in order to support him just like your mom did, and he would hate for that to happen.

you [14:29]: That could be arranged you [14:29]: If we happen to go back to your dorm after dinner and casually decide to sleep over I’ll need to wear something Jake [14:29]: I’m telling the guys to find a different place to sleep at tonight Jake [14:29]: Can’t let them see that

The smile on your lips never leaves, not even when you finally look up from your phone and see the unfamiliar road, frowning. “Where are you taking me?”

“Home,” he answers simply and it takes you a second he isn’t talking about your dorm. “What? I have plans, I don’t have time to drive home and back.”

“You should have thought about that before I saw you half naked with my player,” he says through gritted teeth, more judging than he intended. He’s not sure why he says it in the first place. He really wants to reconcile with you, forget about the whole thing and act like nothing happened but for some reason, every time he opens his mouth, the wrong words come out.

“I’m an adult!” you remind him, looking at the time on your phone. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Language!” You huff, taking a deep breath as you finally turn your head to face him fully. “The fact you’re mad at me doesn’t mean you’ll be speaking to me like that.”

You don’t say anything back, writing Jake a quick text explaining the situation before turning your phone off and placing it down in your lap, crossing your arms as you watch the road ahead. If he wanted to kidnap you then so be it. It’s not like you would sit around saying nothing forever.

“Honey, how come you’re so late?” Your mother’s voice makes you look up as you step out of the car, her eyes lighting up immediately the moment she sees you. You smile, greeting her warmly and walking over to her. “What are you doing here? I need to cook something for dinner! You’re staying, right?” She asks, hopeful and excited. You chuckle, nodding. “I didn’t plan on visiting this weekend but dad kidnapped me so I had no choice,” you shoot him a look but he ignores it, taking his things from the car and coming to greet his wife with a kiss.

“Kidnapped her?” She asks confusedly but he just brushes it off, saying that you’re talking nonsense. You scoff, moving past both of your parents inside the house. It’s been around a month since you last came by, with school and Jake keeping you busy, there wasn’t a chance for it before. And even though you didn’t want to be here, you would be lying if you said you don’t like being home.

You pull out your phone again, glancing back to make sure your parents are still outside before you start a video call. You don’t even have a chance to fix your hair or make sure you look good when the call goes through, Jake’s face lighting up your screen immediately. You smile, a soft “hi” leaving your lips. “You ran away or something?” He asks after a greeting.

Rolling your eyes, you glance behind yourself again before walking towards your room. “No, I successfully made it home. Want to see my room?” You ask but before he can even answer you enter the room, giving him a quick tour when he says he needs to see every corner, mentioning something about how a childhood bedroom creates a character and he needs to see everything. He’s a bit weird but honestly, you couldn’t find him more attractive.

You sit down on your bed, resting your head against the headboard, watching him talk about how the guys jumped at him the moment he stepped into his room, congratulating him on his play. The excitement in his eyes as he talks about hockey makes your heart melt, until you remember your dad’s words. Don’t expect to play on my team again.

Hockey was his whole life, the thing he was the most excited about, something he spent every free minute thinking about, you couldn’t be the reason why it was taken from him. You’d rather never step on the ice again yourself if it meant he could still play.

“Heeseung said that he spoke to one of the scouts after the game, apparently they are thinking about me!” He grins and you can’t help but smile. “That’s amazing, Jake. I knew you could do it from the moment I first saw you.” He gives you a look but the smile never leaves his lips. “You told me I’m terrible and need to fix everything.”

You shrug, laughing. “Yeah, that was me telling you I think you’re amazing.”

“So you were in love with me back then,” he teases, making you roll your eyes again. You open your mouth to answer but a soft knock on the door interrupts you. You give Jake a quick look so he stays quiet and watch the door open, your mom walking in with her usual gentle smile.

“Is that the boyfriend of yours?” She asks, immediately noticing the cause of your smile. You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. She walks over to you, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “Can I?” You don’t hesitate before moving closer to her, holding the phone so Jake could see both of you. He immediately greets her, the boyish grin on his face making you roll your eyes. “Jake, was it?” she questions and he introduces himself fully, saying that he’d offer her a hand as well had it been a different situation. It’s lame but she laughs nonetheless. “Well, we can shake hands when you come to visit next week. My daughter told you about it, right?”

“She did,” he nods. “And I’d love to come, if I’m welcome to, I mean.”

“Dear, of course! I wouldn’t have invited you if you weren’t.”

“Dad isn’t a big fan,” you mumble, causing Jake to chuckle and your mom turn to you. “He met him before I could?” There’s a hint of betrayal in her voice but you already know that once she knows the full story it will be replaced with something else—disappointment. Not towards you, but your father.

“Jake is on his team, the captain.”

“Was,” Jake corrects and you roll your eyes again. “I was on the team, but Coach kicked me out today.”

Your mother’s brows furrow, already sensing something iffy about it. “Why would he do that?”

“Ask him, I’d love to know the reason as well,” you say, getting more and more annoyed as you speak. You sigh, running a hand through your hair to calm yourself. “Let’s not talk about it now, though. And for your information,” you turn towards Jake again, a shy smile spread across your face. “I’d love to have you here.”

“Then I’ll definitely come,” he assures both of you, watching as your mom’s smile grows wider. She sits there with you for a bit longer, asking Jake about all sorts of things and watching you interact together, somehow feeling proud. She always wished you the best in life, and from what she saw in the short moments, Jake was exactly that.

She goes to leave the room but stops again as her hand grabs the doorknob, glancing back at you one last time. “I’m not sure what you and your dad did to each other but I don’t want to stir the pot even more so, honey, try to cover that hickey of yours so he doesn’t have a reason to freak out,” she winks at you before disappearing from the room.

Your cheeks grow red from embarrassment as you lean closer to your phone, looking at the hickey Jake has left on your neck in your front camera. He laughs on the other side of the phone, saying that it looks great but you only send him a pointed look. You groan, “I’m going to strangle you, Jake Sim.” It’s a threat, but he smiles. “With your thighs I hope.”

You close your eyes, exhaling tiredly but Jake notices your lips twitch as you try to hold back your smile. He knows he’s got you exactly where he wants.

You spend another thirty minutes on the call with him before finally stumbling out of your room as the smell of chicken hits your nose. Your dad tells you to sit that as he plates everything so you do, playing with your sleeve awkwardly.

The food is set on the table soon after and your parents both sit opposite you, your mom asking you about exams and friends casually while your dad eats in silence, humming sometimes as a form of response.

You stare at your plate for a few seconds before deciding to look up, catching your dad’s eyes at the same time. He sighs, visibly exhausted. You’re not sure if it’s because of the continuous arguing with you or just today’s game, though. “You didn’t mean it, did you? That you’re not going to let him play anymore.”

Something flickers in his eyes, a moment of hesitance, regret maybe, you don’t know. He doesn’t answer, just putting another piece of meat into his mouth. You don’t just let it go like he seems to want, though. “He is your best player and you know it. You can’t kick him out just because he is dating your daughter instead of being fucking happy for me.”

That seems to work because he winces, finally looking at you, really looking at you. “Darling,” your mom coos softly, tilting her head slightly, almost as if to tell you to calm down. You shake your head, refusing to drop the conversation. “I’ll…I won’t go on the ice ever again like you wanted, I won’t be near when you have practices and I’ll stop coming to games just please.” The plea sends a shiver down his spine, making him drop his fork on the table.

“I don’t want you to give up on skating for him.”

“So you’d rather make him give up on his whole future for me? Because we both know he doesn’t plan on leaving. If he did, he wouldn’t have talked to me again after you told him to stop seeing me the first time. And honestly, I don’t want to leave either.”

“You did what?” Your mother turns her attention to your dad immediately, slapping him across his shoulder. “That poor boy does nothing but make our daughter happy and you told him to stop seeing her?” You knew that if someone was going to have your back it’d be your mom but you didn’t expect her to be so into it. She didn’t know Jake. There was no reason for her to get all worked up and start a whole argument with him.

But, you weren’t going to stop her.

You watch your parents argue for a while, your mom telling your dad he’s unreasonable and should finally realize you’re an adult while he tells her something about thinking about the future of the both of you, which only makes things worse. They start arguing about how their situation used to be similar and he doesn’t want you to go through the same thing your mom did but you disappear then, figuring that’s not a conversation you should be a part of.

Later that night, a knock on the door makes you look up from your phone. You expect it to be your mom, after all, it’s always been her who talked to you after they had arguments when you were little, wanting you to know it was all okay and you didn’t need to worry about anything, but when the door opens, it’s your dad you see standing there. You sit up, nodding for him to come in. He sighs, closing the door behind himself as he pulls out a chair from your table, placing it right in front of your bed and taking a seat.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. You frown, not saying anything as you watch him, waiting for him to say more, explain himself. “I know it’s stupid and unreasonable,” he repeats your mother’s words, his brows furrowing in a way that tells you he doesn’t completely agree with it. “You know I love you, right?” He finally looks up to meet your eyes and you nod, a part of you feeling bad when you see the look on his face. The regret you thought you saw before is now way more visible, accompanied with a sign of simple care. “And I love the boys on my team, all of them. I think…Jake is a great kid, darling.”

His words catch you off guard but you still stay quiet, knowing that’s not all he wants to say. “When me and your mom met we were around the same age as you, did you know that?” He doesn’t give you enough time to answer before he continues. “She wanted to be a doctor, she had her whole life figured out while the only thing I knew was that all I wanted to do was skate and be with her.” You smile, the thought of your parents at your age warming your heart. You can see yourself and Jake in their place. You can see Jake loving you all the years later just like your father loves your mom.

“Then I got an offer, a contract with a team I really wanted to join. It was on the other side of the country and your mom…she dropped everything without thinking about it so she could go with me. I know she doesn’t regret it now, and neither do I, but knowing she gave up her future plan for me ate me alive for years.”

“I never wanted to see you go through the same, so I did what I thought was the best at the time; told you not to skate so you couldn’t meet any hockey players that could mess with your future. I know it’s stupid, that it’s up to you what you do with your life I just…I simply didn’t want hockey to be the reason for another girl I love to lose something she’s passionate about.”

You stand up from your bed, regretting all the bad words you said about your dad in the past few days. He watches you walk over to him, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you just pull him into a hug. “I love you too, dad,” you mumble. “And I’m sorry for cussing you out before.” He chuckles softly as he pulls back, shaking his head. “I deserved it.”

“I’m not going to force Jake to leave my team, by the way. I’d be incredibly stupid to let that sort of talent escape.” You grin proudly, thanking him. “And…if it’s something you both want then,” he clears his throat, visibly stalling as he thinks it over. “Then I’d like to see him come with you next time,” he nods slightly, almost as if he was approving of his own words. “But just, please, promise me you won’t make your whole life about hockey, his games and plans. Promise me that if you stay together, you’ll figure something out while you both do what you love, even if it means being away from each other for a while.”

You nod, it’s the least you can do. “We will,” you agree.

Not having to hide a whole hockey player from your dad feels great. You still have to stay professional while filming the guys and limit Jake’s neediness while being around your dad but that’s understandable. And Jake knows that as well, still, he loves pushing the limits.

“So, you’re going to be at our game tomorrow, right?” Jake asks, his hands resting on each side of you on the bench, trapping you in. He hovers over you, and even though you want nothing more than to pull him into a make out session when he gives you that boyish grin of his again, the presence of your father next to you reminds you to think straight.

“Yeah,” you nod slightly, unable to take your eyes off him. He smirks, quickly glancing at his coach before leaning closer to you, stopping just below your ear. “And then you’ll let me go for as many rounds as I score.” He says it like it’s a deal you agreed to before but when he backs up again, there’s a question in his eyes, mixing with a sign of hope and mischief. “You better score a lot then,” you smirk, pressing your hand on his chest and pushing him off gently. “Go practice.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he does a little prince bow, winking at you once more before putting on his helmet and skating away, joining the others.

“Is Jake going to drive you afterwards or should I wait and take both of you?” Your dad asks, keeping his eyes on the boys while sitting down beside you now that Jake’s gone. “Jake will drive. I agreed to go grab some food with the team after the game so we’ll drive on our own.” He nods, glancing at you again. “And he’ll be staying the whole week?”

“The whole week,” you agree, causing a sigh to leave your dad’s lips. “In your room?” You roll your eyes, “yes, in my room. And in my bed, you’re not expecting me to make him sleep on the floor or something, are you?”

“No,” he answers through gritted teeth, making sure you know he isn’t exactly happy with the arrangements. “Just don’t…no, nevermind, I’m not talking about this,” he shakes his head aggressively. “I’ll talk to Jake instead.” Your eyes widen, realization hitting you. “Don’t talk about sex with my boyfriend!” you smack his arm.

“I need to talk to him as a worried coach to make sure my player doesn’t get a girl pregnant in his prime year,” he shoots you a pointed look and you sigh. The following week was going to test your strength and love for your father a lot.

8:00 am lights up your phone before you knock on Jake’s door, watching as it swings open immediately. Jake doesn’t hesitate before grabbing your hand and pulling you against him, your bodies colliding together. “What’s going on?” you ask, blinking a few times. “Why was I supposed to come?”

“The guys are out, they went for breakfast as Jay’s pregame ritual,” he explains, still holding your hand as he takes you towards his bed. “I’d like to start a pregame tradition with you as well,” he explains, his eyes glinting with need. “Oh?” Your lips curl into a smirk as you sit on the bed. “And what might that be?”

Jake kneels down in front of you on the floor, gently pushing your legs open, keeping his hands on your inner thighs as he looks up at you. And god damn is he the hottest person you’ve ever seen. “Can I eat you out?” You blink, feeling hotter just at the thought of that. You bite your bottom lip, slowly nodding. His smile grows wider, his eyes lighting up as if he was a little kid whose parents allowed him to eat ice cream before dinner.

He stays on the floor, sliding off your jeans, groaning quietly as his eyes land on your panties. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he sounds desperate and your body responds immediately. He runs his fingers over your clothed cunt and the whine that leaves his lips makes a shiver run down your spine. If this was his reaction to barely seeing you, how loud on earth was he going to be during the whole deal?

It takes no time for him to slide your panties down to your ankles, moving his head closer to you immediately, keeping his eyes on yours as he licks a long strap from your hole to your clit. “Fuck,” you moan quietly, grinding your hips against his face. He smirks, his grip on your thighs tightening as he holds you in place, firm enough so you can’t move on your own. “Relax, baby. I’m going to take my sweet time with your little pussy.”

And he does. He absolutely fucking does, to the point it drives you crazy. Your legs shake and you squirm under him as he lazily sucks on your clit. It’s torture but god, he’s also the greatest pussy eater you’ve met, definitely the most eager one from everyone you’ve been with. His whines and groans fill your ear and the only thing you can focus on is how he sounds against your wet cunt. “I’m gonna–” your breath hitches and he sucks harder. “Wait just a bit longer, baby.”

Jake’s hand slides to his pants, pulling out his throbbing cock and slowly palming himself while he brings you closer to your orgasm, his free hand still digging into the flesh of your thigh. “Need you to hold it in, love. Want to cum together,” he groans, his tongue flicking between your folds. “God, your pussy is so good.”

You whine, your eyes closed as your hand finds his head, pushing him closer against your clit, needing the release. You feel him smirk, letting his cock free for a minute as he holds you with both hands again, opening your legs wider. “Jake!”

“Fuck,” he whines again, pulling away from you completely which only causes you to whimper. “Say it again.”

“What?” You shoot your eyes to him again, shaking your head as you try to bring him closer again. You fail. “Say my name again, say it over and over again and I’ll let you cum, okay?” You nod, his name leaving your lips in a broken whine. “That’s my girl,” he smirks before dipping in again. You gasp at his harsh suck but you definitely don’t complain. “Jake, Jak–Jake–mhm.”

“Yes, baby, it’s me. I’m making you feel all good, aren’t I?” You nod fiercely, throwing your head back as you tug on his hair lightly. He whines again, finally bringing you to your climax with one last lick. Your legs tremble around his head but he doesn’t seem to mind at all, giving you a few more licks so you can ride it out before coming up to you, stealing a kiss from you immediately. “You taste fucking amazing, you feel that?”

The taste of your own cum on his lips feels weird but you never pull away from him, only deepening the kiss. You glance down quickly, finding his hand palming over his length again as he kisses you, trying to reach his own climax. You wrap your hand around his and he smirks against your lips. “Want to help with that?”

Your mouth is wrapped around his tip quickly, looking up at him as you move your head for some sort of reassurance. Which is exactly what you get as he cups your face, moaning loudly at the sight of you. He could watch you forever, especially when you’re stuffed with his cock.

“God, baby, have I told you you’re absolutely gorgeous?” He groans again and you only suck harder instead of responding. He starts blabbing things after that, soft praises leaving his lips as if it was the only thing he knew how to do. You stop paying attention to them in the middle of it but your body still responds, your pussy getting wet again.

You pull back slightly just to tease him but Jake doesn’t seem to like it much as he thrusts back into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag but don’t pull back again, relaxing your mouth completely and letting him gently thrust into you on his own. He doesn’t care, closing his eyes and gently brushing his thumb on your cheek just to feel himself.

He comes down your throat slowly after and you gag again, pulling back completely before swallowing. He praises you again and again, kissing you as if you are the air he breathes. Because to him, you are. Your bodies wrap together as your kisses turn gentler, more loving.

You just lay in the bed for a while, leaving wet kisses all over each other’s bodies, leaving marks behind before Jake’s alarm rings and he takes you to the bathroom, helping you clean up in the shower. When both of you are done washing he throws a jersey over your head, making you glance down confusedly. You had your own team clothes to wear with the team logo and everything but before you could protest your eyes land on the number on the jersey, realizing it’s his.

“You want me to wear this?”

“I want everyone at the rink to know my gorgeous, talented, lovely and smart girlfriend already belongs to someone,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another kiss. You smile, nodding slightly. In that case, you were going to wear his jersey for the rest of your life.

As soon as the game ends Jake runs into your arms, picking you up and spinning around before pushing his lips against yours. You giggle, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

Tigers won 5-2, three of those points scored by Jake because as you later found out, he told Heeseung about your little deal and so he helped him get as many goals as possible. You don’t even care, for all you care he could have scored zero and you’d still let him have whatever he wants.

Your dad clears his throat behind you and Jake gently places you back to the ground, grinning happily. “How was that?”

“Amazing,” Taehyun pats his back from behind, the other guys slowly joining in. “As the MVP today you’re buying, right?” Heeseung wiggles his eyebrows as he wraps his arm around Jake’s shoulder, making him scoff. “I only buy food for my lover and myself, I don’t think you fit in either of those categories,” Jake shakes him off quickly. You shake your head at the interaction, the smile on your face never leaving as you congratulate them all.

Jake wraps his hand around your waist, keeping you close as he talks to his team about the game. You don’t mind at all. You wrap your arm around him as well, smiling back at his friends when they give you a teasing, knowing look. This time, your dad seems to have the same smile on his face, looking at Jake more proudly than as if it was a warning.

“Okay, go change quickly so we can go,” you say, placing a quick peck on his cheek to which Heeseung laughs with a whistle, taking your boyfriend from you. Jake mumbles something under his breath but you don’t pay it any attention, watching him leave with a smile.

“The jersey suits you,” your dad speaks all of a sudden, making you turn to him. “Yeah?” You bite your lip nervously, looking down. “Thank you. For accepting him,” you smile, looking at him again. He rolls his eyes, almost as if that wasn’t exactly true, yet. “He still needs to work for it. I’ll have my eye on him during the whole week.” You chuckle, nodding. “Have fun with that.”

It’s four pm when you finally part ways with the rest of the guys, your fingers laced with Jake’s as you walk towards his car, sliding into the passenger seat after he opens the door for you. He settles in the driver’s position, looking around. “Did you have fun?” He wonders, his voice soft, soothing. You smile, reaching for his hand again as you assure him it was great.

“But next time, let’s eat alone, just the two of us, yeah?”

You agree, squeezing his hand in his. “I’d love that.”

“Good,” Jake smiles, leaning in and capturing your lips with his. “How about dinner tomorrow?” He asks between kisses, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You hum against his lips, agreeing. Your fingers tangle in his hair, keeping him close as you deepen the kiss, enjoying the alone time with him. You were definitely going to make use of all the time you have during this break, with no roommates standing in your way and no exams watching over your back.

You stay in the parking lot for a few more minutes, sharing kisses and light touches with soft giggles that make you fall for him just a bit more. “I like you so much,” you mumble and Jake’s grip on your waist tightens. “Yeah?” He teases, a smirk forming on his lips. You roll your eyes at his reaction, kissing him again. “I like you a lot too,” he says and even though you’ve heard him say it many times before, it warms your heart in a way that makes you feel like he just said the other L-word for the first time.

“Let’s go,” Jake leans back in his seat, finally starting the car and driving off. His right hand rests on your thigh soon after, his eyes focused on the road. You smile, stealing glances at your boyfriend as he drives you home. You could definitely get used to this.

Jake grabs your bags from the truck of his car while you open the front door of your house, greeting your parents before running out again to help him. However, when you reach him, asking him to give you one of the bags so he doesn’t carry it all on his own, he just brushes you off, saying he’s got it. You know he does, that he could easily pick you up as well but you still want to help.

“Love, just go inside and watch me with your pretty eyes, yeah? I’m not gonna have you carry some bags when there’s no reason for you to.”

You roll your eyes but still listen, walking in empty-handed with your boyfriend right behind you. “Dear, go help the poor boy,” your mum nudges your father immediately when her eyes land on Jake. He however shakes his head, still refusing any help. Your dad scoffs but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Which room is yours?” You point towards a door and he nods, leaving you in the hallway alone.

“He’s more handsome in person,” your mom teases immediately, making you roll your eyes with a smile and your dad grumble something. “Please, just let him breathe. Both of you.” You mom giggles, taking your dad with herself back to the kitchen so they can resume cooking and you quickly run to your room.

Jake is sitting on your bed and looking around the room when you come inside. His eyes immediately flicker to you and he opens his arms with a smile, telling you to come closer. You step between his legs, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your stomach.

The two of you settle in your bed, laptop opened on Jake’s lap as you watch a movie, cuddling together. The moment is sweet, relaxing, something he’s been craving after the intense game earlier. When your mom comes into the room to tell you dinner is almost ready, Jake immediately jumps out, offering his help.

You watch him joke around with your mom as he moves around the kitchen, helping her finish up. He starts a conversation about today’s game with your dad as well, listening to all his feedback. It makes your heart ache. It’s like he belongs there, in the small space of the kitchen, in your family, in your life. You experienced relationships and grew to realize they weren’t easy, they were hard, with obstacles on every corner but with Jake, it was the opposite. You thought it would be hard, and it was for a while at first but now, it just seemed like this was how things were supposed to be.

“How many points did you score today?” Your mom asks curiously, setting down a plate in front of Jake. He smirks, glancing at you for a brief moment before answering. “Three. But I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t score anything if it wasn’t for your daughter cheering me on the whole time.” Your mom smiles proudly and you blush, kicking his feet under the table. He chuckles, his hand finding a way to your thigh and giving it a tight squeeze. You stay quiet after that.

The conversation flows naturally as you continue eating. Your mom talks about memories from your childhood, family vacations, how you first started skating, and even some of your more embarrassing stories you’d rather forget. Your cheeks flush red and it takes everything in you not to shut down the conversation immediately. However, when the familiar sounds of Jake’s quiet laugh rings in your ears and you notice the happiness on his face, you stop yourself. The embarrassment you felt slowly turns into something softer, more gentle.

Jake eases into the rhythm of your family quickly, assuring your father of his good intentions every time he feels the warry in his eyes, joking around with your mother as she sets the picture of little you into his head. He bets you were the cutest kid.

He offers to help with cleaning the dishes but your mom refuses, telling him to go spend more time with you, which he happily agrees to. You roll your eyes when you hear their conversation but lead Jake back to your room nonetheless.

“Your mom loves me,” Jake grins proudly, closing the door shut behind you. You smile, shaking your head. “Don’t let it get into your pretty head, captain. That doesn’t mean you’re not being watched by my father all the time,” you close the space between you, your voice teasing. When you look up at him, he’s smirking. “Call me that again,” something flickers in his eyes as his hands find your hips, pressing your body against his.

“Captain?” you raise an eyebrow at his request but the tease in your voice never falls. “Is that what turns you on?” you whisper, pressing onto him more until his back reaches the door. “Maybe,” he leans closer, claiming your lips with his as his hands wander to your lower back, taking in every inch of your body as he moves lower, giving your ass a tight squeeze before lifting you up as if you weigh nothing.

You wrap your legs around his hips, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepen the kiss, a soft moan escaping your lips. “God, you’re absolutely beautiful.” A shiver runs down your spine as he says your name. “Tell me what you want, baby. What you want me to do.” No words leave your mouth as you press your lips on his again, pressing your hips on his harder as a form of answer. He smirks again, walking over to your bed where he drops you. You gasp but can’t help and laugh as he comes closer, spreading your legs and settling between them.

“Words, love. I want words from you.” You moan again as he presses himself against you, feeling his bulge through the layers of clothing you’re both wearing. “Anything, everything–” you gasp when he rolls his hips against yours in a slow, teasing motion. “You promised three rounds, Captain.”

Jake grins, watching your lips part as his hands wander over your body again. Gentle touch on your shoulder, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms, his hands coming under your shoulder to trace over your stomach and breast. Your breath shakes as you watch him, your eyes following his every movement. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” he mumbles, kissing you hungrily, the kiss able to convey all his feelings. “Dreamed of you like this.” His right hand moves lower, stopping between your legs and pressing it over your core.

“Jake,” you gasp as his lips move lower, leaving wet kisses and marks over your jaw and neck. He hums against your skin, pulling off your pants with ease. “Yes, baby?” He asks as he slides your panties to the side, his fingers flicking between your folds. “What do you need, tell me.”

You grind your hips against him on an instinct, a soft whimper of his name leaving your lips. “Need you, need– fuck,” you whine, looking up at him. “Come here, closer. Need you closer.” He smirks, leaning down and holding your chin with his left hand, making you look at him. “That’s it, baby. Use your words,” he kisses you again, his tongue fighting with yours as he rips your panties away, making you yelp.

You barely register him pulling his pants off as he cups your breast in his hands, massaging them as he waits for your every reaction. His mind is clouded with thoughts of you, what he’s going to do, what kind of pleasure he would bring you. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. He needs to hold himself back not to cum untouched just from the way you look at him.

“In, Jake, please,” you beg and something in him flickers. He moans, the sound sending a shiver through your whole body, and pushes your legs up, making you hold them. His eyes focus on your cunt, aligning his cock with your entrance. “God, you’re so fucking wet, darling. I can just slide into you–” he pushes his tip in, making you gasp, “with ease.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, your mouth wide open, the only sounds leaving your lips being a few broken gasps, barely audible once. Yet, they are loud enough for Jake. He leans closer, placing a few open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone. “So good,” he moans against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s like you were made for me entirely,” he praises, his kisses lowering to your breast. He lets out a silent grunt as your nails dig deeper but he never backs away.

“I–” I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. The words are loud and clear in his head, the urge to say them out loud for the whole world to hear so strong he has to bite down his tongue not to do so. But, god, does he want nothing more. “I need you so bad,” he says in the end instead, listening to your quiet moans as he thrusts into you, quickening his pace.

Your eyes roll back, one of your hands squeezing the sheets beneath you while the other finds Jake’s, lacing your fingers together. Your bodies move against each other, the room getting hotter each second as you get closer to your climax. “So good,” he praises you again, his teeth digging into the soft skin of your shoulder. “Jake, I’m gonna–” You don’t even get to finish your sentence as he thrusts harder into you, making you gasp. It only takes a few more quick hip movements before your breath shakes and you reach your orgasm.

Jake pulls out right after, cursing under his breath as he palms himself over your stomach, finding his release as well. “Mhm–more,” you beg, holding onto his wrist. He goes crazy over your words, flipping you onto your stomach with ease. “You want more?” he asks with a smirk, pressing his body against your back as he leans to your ear. “You better have a condom on hand then because I do not want to be pulling out again.”

Your whole body trembles as you point towards a drawer beside your bed, watching his hand reach for it. It takes a few seconds but the same hand rests on your back soon, tracing his fingers across your spine, making you arch your back. He chuckles when you raise your ass, your breast pressing against your mattress. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, giving your ass a tight squeeze once again before he feel him enter you from behind again.

You lose track of time, how long it takes for Jake to bring you to your climax again, how much time passes before he goes down on you, encouraging you on your third release of that night, you don’t remember how many times you truly come on his tongue either, everything getting blurry in your head, the only thing you can focus on being Jake’s moans and whines. It’s music to your ears, just as much as your moans are to his based on what he tells you.

I love you. Jake fights the words back again as he rests on top of you, gazing into your eyes as if you were the only thing he could see. Because to him, you were. “You did so well,” he says, cupping your cheek and brushing a few sweaty strands of your hair off your face. “You weren’t so bad yourself, Captain,” you smile back, pressing your lips on yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

“Let me help you wash up?” You nod and he immediately stands up, ready to get to work.

The rest of the week goes on like a dream. Jake takes you out every day, on dates, night strolls, buying you flowers or sweets the moment he sets his eyes on a shop for even a mere second. You certainly can’t say you’d mind. And somehow, in the mix of the days you spend with him, you notice a shift in your parents behaviour, mostly your dad’s. His intense stares, the ones supposed to dig a hole in the middle of Jake’s forehead, slowly turn softer, watching him with much more appreciation you’d dare to say.

“You need to come back soon, dear,” your mother says, making you roll your eyes as she eagerly holds Jake’s hands. “Shouldn’t you be saying that to your own daughter?” You question, watching as your boyfriend leaves out a soft laugh. “I’d love to visit soon again, I’m sure we can arrange something,” he agrees and she finally lets go of his hands. You replace his spot, hugging her goodbye with a promise of finding time to visit.

“Sir,” Jake smiles as he steps in front of your father. They stay silent for a moment, watching each other before they both laugh, your dad pulling him into a hug, as if he was the son he called him before he became your boyfriend again. “I’d like to say you surprised me but I always knew you would be good to her.”

“Did not seem like it before,” you comment, watching their exchange. Your dad sends you a look but doesn’t say anything. “Just…continue treating her right,” your dad turns his attention back to Jake, “otherwise, your death can still be arranged.” Your mom slaps his shoulder but Jake only laughs, nodding. “I promise to treat her like a princess,” he assures him, mocking a prince’s bow to prove his point. You shake your head at him, locking his arm with yours. “Let’s go.”

He listens well, that’s something you’ve learnt over the past few days. Your bag swings over his shoulder as he laces his fingers with you, saying one last goodbye to your mom before leaving the house, taking you to his car.

And as if the dream was to never end, the attention he pays to you, the care he holds for you, never disappears, only growing each day. He keeps to his promise and with every longing look from across the rink, every touch of his when you find yourselves back in your room, and every word he says to you, you find yourself falling for him more and more.

“Oh but that’s not all,” he laughs, forming a grimace similar to disgust. “As if the whole conversation with Jay wasn’t weird enough on its own, I walk into the bathroom and boom, a lady hiding in there,” he says, skating ahead. You chuckle, following him with ease and listening to his stories. “I ran off immediately and called Sunghoon not to come back to the dorm anytime soon. Something Jay should have done for sure.”

“But there’s a good thing that comes from it,” he turns around to face you, one of his boyish grins on again. “It gave me a reason not to be in my dorm studying, and also an excuse to see you.” You shake your head slightly, quickening your movements slightly to reach him. He offers you his hand immediately and you hold it without hesitation, letting him pull you closer. “I missed you.”

“We’ve seen each other earlier today,” you remind him.

“Not the same. Far from it.”

You smile, not saying anything for a while as you simply let him guide you around the rink, your eyes locked with his. It’s quiet and yet, it feels like everything about the moment is loud and clear, letting the emotions you’ve been feeling for a while come out.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Jake’s eyes widen and he stops in his tracks, making you bump into him. “Say it again,” he begs, his eyes flickering from yours to your lips. “Please.”

You smile, cupping his cheek. “I love you, Jake.”

“God,” he breaths out, his arms wrapping around your waist as he picks you off the ground and spins around. “You just made me the happiest man on earth, you know that?” You laugh, telling him to put you back down. The moment he does, his lips find yours in a tender kiss, telling you everything you need to know. He pulls back and smiles, pressing his forehead on yours, “I love you.”

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cursedhvn · 24 days ago

Text

𝕲𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖘𝖊𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖊 || 𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖎 𝕭𝖊𝖔𝖒𝖌𝖞𝖚

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✦ pairings ➥ underground boxer!choi beomgyu x investigative journalist!fem! reader ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✦ genre ➥ strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, smut [MDNI] ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✦ word count ➥ 23.7k ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✦ warnings ➥ dark themes [violence, murder mention, stabbing, gunshot mention, vague sex-traffiicking mention], heavy religious motifs, exploitation, smut warnings [semi-public, oral (f. rec.), fingering, unprotected sex]. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✦ inspired by ➥ gethsemane [sleep token], missing limbs [sleep token], blood sport [sleep token], moral of the story [ashe]. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✦ synopsis ➥ gethsemane /ɡɛθˈsɛməni/ a garden at the foot of the Mount of Olives in East Jerusalem, where Jesus Christ underwent the Agony and was arrested. Places often reminded you of persons, and he—he was your garden—your Eden and you?—You were his Gethsemane. Parallels that didn’t quite meet. Golgotha became your cursed haven—a bitterly sacred place. You never imagined that your journey would lead you here—cuffed, standing at your own Calvary, with a love that never saved, only one meant to break. You sought to grant salvation, but in the end, it was you who needed it the most. Was salvation something you deserved—or had your own betrayal already condemned you to a life beyond redemption?

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✦ adeline's ✉︎ 𖹭.ᐟ - It's finally out! I added a bit more to the end at the last minute and I still think it's a piece I'm proud of overall. I know I can still improve certain aspects of my writing but for right now this is okay and I'm good with that. Anways I hope you enjoy(❁´◡`❁)

Act I || At the Foot of the Hill

They say that the Garden of Eden was a place, but to you, it was Beomgyu—a person too pure for the world. A victim of the lingering serpent, compelled to consume the forbidden fruit he offered—a fruit that unlocked a part of him that was supposed to remain hidden. Unleashing a darkness that should have never surfaced. And if Beomgyu was like Eden, then you were the Garden of Gethsemane—a betrayer—like Judas, the cause for his silent agony.

The weight of truth and sleep pressed heavily behind your eyes as you blinked it away, forcing yourself to focus on your laptop before you. The cold air from the AC gently kissed your neck, a stark contrast to the boredom that settled in. You enjoyed being an investigative journalist, there was a particular thrill you gained from uncovering corrupt stories that made you feel alive, free—as if life truly held meaning. But lately, when the most interesting news was a fireman rescuing a cat from a tree—an overused cliché—you wondered if journalism still called for you.

The office wasn’t particularly quiet, but it wasn’t extremely noisy either. There was a soft buzz around you, gentle whispers and frantic typing woven neatly into the atmosphere, broken every now and then with an occasional hopeful ring of a phone. Then, a ping from your inbox flashed on your screen, preventing your mind from wandering.

Taehyun: Got some interesting intel for you; an underground fighting ring. There’s something interesting going on, so Boss wants you on it. Bringing you the details now.

Taehyun, your best friend and colleague. You always worked on cases together, something you were appreciative of, not only for his insight but also because he was the more level-headed one between you too, often preventing you from putting yourself in even more danger. You were excited for a more interesting case, something to get your mind buzzing and free from the confines of the office.

“Here,” Taehyun said, sliding a manila folder onto your desk as he appeared beside your cubicle. “It’s right up your alley. Boss wants you to work on it ASAP. Said it's a big one.”

You raised an eyebrow, skimming through the details. “He said that last time too. And all that turned out to be was just some petty spat between shop owners. I wouldn’t trust him.”

“Maybe this time’s different,” Taehyun smirked. “You never know what goes down in that ring.”

Your brows furrowed deeply, “It’s for the rich?” you whispered. “I thought people just did this to make easy money.”

“That’s exactly why it’s interesting,” he replied.

That night, dressed in outfits that cost more than your monthly salaries combined, you and Taehyun stood outside where the supposed underground fighting ring hid. According to the intel, this underground club was meant for people of a certain calibre. Thank God your boss was really banking on a big scoop and decided to generously fund every aspect of the investigation.

“Are you nervous?” Taehyun asked as you descended an inconspicuous flight of stairs.

“Me? Never.”

At the bottom, you’re met with a small bar—quaint—its ambient lighting setting an intimate mood. Clearly (and thankfully) your intel was credible as the patrons within the bar were well-known faces; from famous wealthy businessmen to celebrities were littered across the bar, each doing their own thing. The entrance to the underground fight club wasn’t as discreet as you expected it to be. The door was made from a dark mahogany, carved into it The Creation of Adam while being adorned in golden accents. Beside it stood a guard—tall and buff—dressed in a proper suit as patrons whispered a secret code before he opened the door for them. He was a clear warning but also a very obvious sign of where you needed to be.

The man barely spared you and Taehyun a glance when you made it to the entire, his rough voice cut through the air, “Code?”

“Judas,” Taehyun replied smoothly, eyeing him with intent.

For a heartbeat, surprise flickered in the man’s eyes before he bowed deeply, opening the door for you both. “Sir and Madam, welcome to Golgotha. Please, enjoy your stay.”

You exchanged a glance with Taehyun as you stepped through the grand doors. “What is it with them and the biblical references?” you murmured.

“Rich people.”

Golgotha’s atmosphere left you at a loss for words. Its ambiance mirrored that of the earlier bar, but it felt as though you were transported to an entirely different place. The vaulted ceiling was high—impossibly so—stretching overhead like the nave of a cathedral. The walls were simple, a soft beige that bore various religious paintings, a solemn contrast to the activities that took place. In one corner, there was a small bar that served patrons’ drinks out of lavish gold and red chalices; in another corner had a towering marble sculpture of the three crosses mentioned to be at Golgotha in the bible, a sign of their dedication to the theme.

Seating ranged from simple velvet floor lounges to overhead VIP enclosures with a stage like no other as its glorious centerpiece. Unlike the typical ring, this one was elevated in such a way that it resembled a stone altar, each of its corners with a praying angel standing tall, as velvety blood-red rope weaved through its hands making it secure for the performance. Above it hung a single chandelier—large and made of crystal, one that illuminated the entire space with a warm and inviting glow.

“What the hell is this?” you whispered in awe, overwhelmed with the surroundings.

Amidst the sea of tailored suits and glamorous gowns, there was him. He stood out from the crowd, catching your eye. He was buff—rugged and raw—dressed in a simple tank top and shorts. His eyes were fiery with quiet defiance and his knuckles were wrapped tightly in tape, old scars from previous battles peeking through. A fighter, you thought. And a gorgeous one at that. His hair was slightly tousled as it cascaded along his neck. He was talking to a man beside him, his boss you presumed. His eyes seemed more fiery then as he nodded at whatever the man was telling him. In that moment you knew your story was no longer just about uncovering the secrets of Golgotha but also about him and how he came to be.

A man came to the stage, like everyone else he was dressed nicely in a suit. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out tonight. As the first act of the night is about to begin, we’d like to welcome our performers. On our left, Xavier, a fan favourite.” The patrons clapped and some enthusiastically threw money onto the stage. It was odd, you thought. The way fighting was being treated as an act—a performance—instead of something fighting for their life. “And to our right, Beomgyu, a reigning champion.” The crowd was eerily dead then, a stark comparison to their previous behaviour. Though there were a few claps, it was drowned by the deafening silence.

Choi Beomgyu. Even his name felt hot against your tongue. It rolled off with ease, a forbidden thrill that sent a shiver down your spine. “Enjoy the first act of the evening.” With that, the host stepped back, and the lights dimmed. A sharp gong echoed against the walls, the crowd hushed instantly as Beomgyu and Xavier moved onto the stage.

The moment the referee gave the go-ahead Beomgyu immediately stepped forward with a fluidity that exhibited raw power. This was his altar, his battleground as he seamlessly fought Xavier with ease, dodging his punches with grace. Your heart quickened as you leaned in closer to Taehyun. This wasn’t just a fight—it was a spectacle to the crowd—a performance drenched in sweat and blood. But to Beomgyu, it was more than that—desperation clung miserably to him, with every throw, every dodge, his story waiting to be revealed.

The match ended in a final, breathtaking exchange with Beomgyu as the victor—his knuckles bloodied and bruises blooming like flowers across his body. The crowd was clearly disappointed with the outcome but cheered nonetheless.

“Thank you for enjoying the first act ladies and gentlemen,” the host started as he found his place back on stage. “We will now have a performance by one of our artists. Please enjoy the refreshments as the altar is prepared.”

“Hey, you okay?” Taehyun asked, breaking the silence between you.

You nodded slowly, voice barely above a whisper, “Yeah, more than okay. I think…I think I need to know everything about him. About this world they’re in.”

“Just be careful,” Taehyun pleaded softly, “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

You ignored the way his words got to you, weaving your way through the crowd and entering through the door Beomgyu had disappeared into. The voices of the crowd still echoed faintly as you stood in the quieter room within Golgotha. It was simpler than the main space, dimly lit with plush carpeting on its floors. There was a small table with refreshments and like the main room, the walls were adorned with religious decor. In the corner, there was a leather couch where you found him, a lit cigarette in his hand as smoke curled around him.

His eyes flickered towards you. “I don’t sleep with men’s wives,” he said, his eyes sharp and unforgiving as you made your way in front of him.

You raised an eyebrow, and the corner of your mouth twitched into a teasing smile. “Well, since I’m no one’s wife you'll make an exception for me, right?”

A small smirk coated his lips. Without answering, he exhaled a ribbon of smoke toward you, playful yet challenging.

“That’s a dangerous game you’re willing to play,” he said after a beat.

“Maybe I like the danger,” you shrugged, leaning in slightly, enjoying the tension that rose between you.

Before the moment could deepen, the door swung open. A man entered frantically.

“I swear to God, Beomgyu. A little heads-up before your match is appreciated. You’re so lucky I didn’t have a night shift or else I wouldn’t know who would tend to your wounds.” The man stopped as he saw you, glancing between you and Beomgyu. “Sorry, he doesn’t sleep with patrons,” his tone clipped as he knelt beside Beomgyu, his hands moving with purpose as he began to tend to the damage from earlier.

“Don’t worry about her, Soobin. She’s fine.”

Still, Soobin eyed you suspiciously, “Whatever the case is, you’re playing with fire. Be careful not to get burned.”

You watched as Soobin tended to Beomgyu’s wounds with ease, delicately wrapping his bruised knuckles. Shamelessly, you stared at Beomgyu as his eyes silently challenged you. You felt the weight of Soobin’s gaze on you, assessing you, almost as if he could see right through your intentions.

“So why is a new patron like you so interested in Beomgyu?” Soobin asked as he packed away his materials in the corner.

“How do you know I’m new?” you asked as you took a seat next to Beomgyu.

Soobin sighed exasperatedly before giving you a pointed look, “It’s obvious you’re a new face. And besides, everyone knows Beomgyu doesn’t entertain them. So, what’s your deal? Why him? And as a matter of fact, how did you even get into Golgotha?”

“Word of mouth,” you said simply. “And Beomgyu? He interests me.”

“I’d appreciate it if you both stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” Beomgyu spoke up as he flicked away the remnants of his cigarette.

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door before Taehyun came in. He gave the two men a nod of acknowledgment before he said your name softly. “I think we should call it a night.,” he gave you a knowing look. You pouted for a moment before you turned to Beomgyu, “Guess that’s my cue to leave. I’ll see you later, Champ.” Before you left, you leaned closer to Beomgyu, kissing him on the cheek. “A reward,” you whispered, “for winning your match today.”

Beomgyu watched as the door clicked softly behind you, his cheek tingling from the kiss you left him. He pulled out another cigarette, frustrated. Your departure left a tight, uncomfortable ache in his chest.

“What was that all about?” Soobin asked, “You never let patrons get that close.”

He inhaled sharply, letting the cigarette’s warmth encapsulate him. “She’s different,” he murmured with uncertainty, “I don’t know why yet. But I have to have her.” As he exhaled, Beomgyu watched the smoke dance around in the air, under the dim light.

Soobin shook his head, unconvinced, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t trust her. What if Kwang-soo put her up to this? To control you even further?”

Beomgyu’s jaw clenched at the name. Kwang-soo, that bastard, he thought. His boss, someone who was part of his life for too long, someone who only sold him a bittersweet dream.

Beomgyu’s gaze hardened. “Soobin. She’s not like that.”

Soobin scoffed under his breath, “You’ve barely known her for a night, what do you know?”

Beomgyu didn’t flinch, but his voice came quieter. “She didn’t look at me like I was just a performance.”

Soobin frowned, “But what if she is like the others, but smarter? Then what?”

He crushed the cigarette into the ashtray, its hissing, a silent warning. “Then I’ll deal with it.”

Soobin rolled his eyes, arms still crossed, but something in his stance softened. “You’re not a child anymore,” he said. “Don’t act like one.”

Beomgyu didn’t respond. He just sat there, his eyes gazing at the ceiling. You weren’t like them, he thought. He was sure of it; he could feel it. Or maybe he just wanted to believe it. Either way, he was already going in too deep. And if you were playing him…maybe he didn't want you to stop.

As soon as the door shut behind you, the buzz of Golgotha returned—almost bringing you back to your reality, but not quite. You mindlessly followed Taehyun until you were by his car, the cold evening breeze raising goosebumps along your arm.

“You’ve got that look again.”

You blinked, still riding the high of Beomgyu’s presence. “What? What look?”

“The ‘I’m about to ruin my life for a guy with bloodied knuckles’ look,” Taehyun said dryly. “Had the same look when you started seeing your ex, remember?”

You looked away, wrapping your arms around yourself. “That was different.”

“Yeah,” he said, opening the door for you. “Beomgyu has better biceps.”

He did have better biceps.

You swatted his arm playfully as you sat inside, a small grin on your lips.

“He’s not like him,” you said as Taehyun took his seat.

He rolled his eyes, “You said that last time and look where that got you.”

You stiffened. “Can we not talk about him right now, Taehyun? Please?”

Taehyun sighed, looking at you sadly. “Anyways, while you were busy giving Beomgyu the bedroom eyes, I actually did some digging.”

You sat up a little straighter, “What did you find out?”

Taehyun glanced at you for a moment before focussing on the road, “Turns out the exploitation, at least, at surface level is true. Kwang-soo, Beomgyu’s boss, is notorious for that kind of behaviour for years. Fed the patrons lies and pocketed most of the money when Beomgyu just started out. It’s only when Beomgyu actually learned to fight things got easier for him.”

You frowned, “So he’s a survivor.”

“More like a pawn who fought back,” Taehyun said with a nod, his expression darkening. “He’s valuable but dangerous. And Kwang-soo? It’s more than exploitation.”

“There’s more?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Taehyun sighed, running his hands through his hair at a red light. “Rumours say that Kwang-soo had the last guy under his wing killed. Not sure how true it is right now, but patrons said the guy was stabbed during a match—no rules in Golgotha, just performance. Everything right now is just rumours though, and no one is willing to talk. We’ll need to dig deeper.”

You frowned, “We have to. For Beomgyu.”

Taehyun raised a brow, “For Beomgyu? What about the story?”

“It’s more than a story now. It’s someone's life.”

You laid wide away that night. The ceiling above you blurred, but it wasn't the room spinning, it was your thoughts. You thought back to Beomgyu. He wasn’t just magnetic, he was fiery—a man forged in violence. A man who built a wall to protect himself from a world that hurt him one too many times. His eyes were the only thing you saw in your mind, the way they bore and tore apart your soul.

You sighed. Unable to sleep with the swirling thoughts, you got up, taking with you a voice recorder. The night was eerily still, perfect to begin recording your findings.

You hit record. The sound of the click was sharp, cutting through the stillness of the room.

“Day 1. Investigation; Underground fighting ring. The first subject, Choi Beomgyu, participant in underground fighting events at Golgotha. His boss is Kwang-soo, a primary suspect in the investigation.”

You cleared your throat, trying your best to keep your tone neutral and focussed—reminding yourself that it wasn’t about feeling but about fact.

“Beomgyu has an established reputation at Golgotha for being a reputable fighter but in his earlier days, Kwang-soo took advantage of his lack of skill to reap profits. But as his fighting skills developed Kwang-soo began seeing a loss. This is all for now pertaining to their relationship, but Beomgyu is a clear victim of exploitation, to what extent? That is yet to be known.”

You paused for a moment, reviewing the details in your head.

“Further discussion with Taehyun suggested that the suspect had a prior fighter before Beomgyu. Based on rumours from the patrons, it seems he had premeditated his death. Currently all the given information is purely based on rumours. More investigation will be done to confirm these claims.”

You thought back to the night once again, recalling the eerie feeling Golgotha had given you. You felt the hairs on your arm rise, this was more than a spectacle, more than a performance. There was something truly evil about there and you were going to get to the bottom of it.

“Golgotha is a place like no other. The rich revel in the exploited fighting for their lives on their behalf. All in the name of performance. There is something deeper than this. With time, the truth will be revealed. This is the end of Day 1.”

With a final click, the recorder went silent. You wanted some form of recording to keep yourself grounded. You had no clue what this story would bring, but you knew that you had no choice but to be prepared for it either way.

“Well?” your boss’s eyes flicked between you and Taehyun. The two of you sat across him in his poorly lit office, the AC working overtime as he intensely gazed at you both. “What do you have?”

“It’s only been one day, sir,” Taehyun said as he leaned forward, his face calm. “We only have information based on word of mouth. There’s no tangible proof just yet.” Your boss’s face hardened.

“And I don’t care, Taehyun. Any information is good information. A story is on the line!”

The atmosphere thickened. Your boss wasn’t one for small talk, nor was he one of patience. He valued information, and he valued it fast. He didn’t care by which means it was given, once it got done.

“Sir,” you started “I have a recording for the first night. We can fill in any excess details after if we believe anything was left out.”

He gave you a small nod of approval. “Good, let’s hear it.”

As your voice played out in the room, you relived the moments again—relived Beomgyu. You remembered his gaze on you, the proximity, the way his natural scent mixed with his cologne of choice that night. You felt it then, and you hoped he felt it too—the undeniable pull between you, something unexplainable.

Your boss’s features spoke for itself; it was a familiar gaze he’d given you when you failed before. “The stakes are higher now.” He said your name harshly, “You’ve been on thin ice before, and I won’t let your decision drag me down again. I don’t care what it takes, but you will get that story. Do not mess up. Do I make myself clear?”

You stiffened, biting back a response. You gazed at Taehyun beside you who watched you with worry coating his features. He knew the mistakes of your past and the inevitable spark that would form between you and Beomgyu, he just didn’t know what decision you’d make this time.

“Do I make myself clear?” your boss asked again, his voice clipped.

You nodded, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Yes, sir. Understood.”

He gave another small nod before his features tightened. “Don’t come back until you’ve got something solid. No rumours, just the truth.” With that, he stood, dismissing you both without so much as a glance back, turning his back before either of you could speak.

Taehyun’s eyes met yours as you came out of the office. “Will you be okay?” he asked, “with Beomgyu?”

You didn’t respond right away, the recorder in your hand felt heavier than before.

“I just…have to use Beomgyu for the truth. I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“It’s more than just a story to you,” he continued “I hope you’re able to make the right decision when the time comes.”

Maybe you would be ready, maybe you wouldn’t. But for now, you decided to live in the moment—exploring another’s life, another story. And maybe, just maybe you would find love along the way.

Act II || Your Forbidden Fruit

From that moment on, things were in full swing. Every night, like clockwork, you found yourself at Golgotha, with or without Taehyun. It wasn’t that the world was magnetic—no—it was more than that. You strived for the idea of living another life, one that wasn’t confined to the walls of the office, one where you played a more confident version of yourself, a version that could dance with danger.

Three months passed and frustratingly your relationship with Beomgyu remained the same—tense and unmoving. Every time you felt as though progress would be made, and a story would unravel before your eyes, Soobin always remained nearby. Like a watchful guardian, his presence served as a constant reminder of the imaginary boundary you dare not cross. But Soobin, as much as he tried, couldn’t always be there.

That night, everything changed.

Taehyun didn’t join you then. Despite his involvement in the case, other stories at the office took precedence, especially with no progress being made. You wore a simpler gown, sleek black, one that hugged your curves beautifully and its dramatic open back that left for a pleasant surprise.

As usual, you met Beomgyu in his locker room after his match. He was graceful as always, a definite force of nature. Even as blood trickled down his lip in his victory, he looked damn good.

“Beomgyu, good fight as usual,” you said as you entered. He was on the couch as usual, medical supplies in hand as he tried to patch himself up, his eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated.

“Is Soobin not coming tonight?” you asked, taking a seat next to him.

He grunted in response. “Has a late-night shift tonight. So, I gotta do it myself.”

Your eyes filled with worry. “Here let me help. You can’t possibly do this on your own.”

Beomgyu watched as you took the supplies from him, a glint in his eyes. “Do you even know how to clean someone up? Can’t afford to have your pretty rich hands getting dirty now.”

You looked at him, determined. “I think I can do an okay job.”

“Alright,” he said softly, “Patch me up.”

Gently, you soaked the cloth in antiseptic before brushing it against his bruised cheek, his skin, smooth against your fingertips. He hissed, leaning into you as you cleaned the cuts, the scent of sweat and alcohol mingled in the air.

“You’re…surprisingly gentle,” he murmured. “Not like I thought a rich girl would be.”

You smirked, but heat rose to your cheeks. “Maybe I’m not what you expect.” Beomgyu’s gaze softened ever so slightly. His eyes no longer felt like a raging fire but had a tenderness to it.

Slowly, your hand moved to his slightly swollen lip, cleaning away the remnants of blood that dries on the corner. He leaned into you, the warmth from his body felt overwhelming against yours. You glanced up at him, searching his eyes for something, anything.

Suddenly, he pulled you even closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I don’t let anyone get so close,” he confessed. “What is it about you that makes it so hard to be away?” Then, without warning, he kissed you. Softly. Tenderly. A stark contrast to his rough exterior. You tasted him—salt, sweet and smoke mixed together with the faintest trace of metal. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer. The only thing that mattered was the way his lips felt against yours.

The kiss deepened, becoming fiercer, more desperate as Beomgyu’s hands found their way on your waist. As he pulled you onto his lap, the moment felt unreal. The liveliness of Golgotha disappeared into the background, leaving you two in a world of your own.

“Beomgyu,” you breathed against his mouth, almost begging for more. He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and intense, lips smeared in your lipstick.

“Ah, what do we have here?” A new voice entered, shattering the moment. Your body froze, but Beomgyu’s grip tightened on your waist, holding you in place.

“Kwang-soo,” he growled, “What do you want?”

So, this was Kwang-soo, you thought. His gaze was sharp, his eyes flickered around the room like a predator. There was something about him that felt off, you weren’t sure what it was but the way he moved felt unnatural, too calculated, too deliberate.

“Wanted to talk business,” he said, his eyes lingering a moment too long on you. “But it seems like I interrupted something.” He smirked. “Lookin’ to sponsor him, sweetheart? He’s worth it. Can guarantee you’ll double your money.”

Beomgyu’s grip tightened even more, his eyes returned to their fiery state as Kwang-soo stepped closer. “Not interested,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“C’mon darlin’. One match, you’ll be richer than before. I promise ya.”

“That’s enough Kwang-soo,” Beomgyu interjected. “Go and scheme someone else out of their money. Leave her out of it.”

Kwang-soo sighed, giving you a lingering, almost predatory look. “Alright, alright. But if you ever change your mind…” He winked at you, before turning on his heel, leaving the room.

You shivered. Gross.

Beomgyu rested his chin on your shoulder. “Don't worry about him,” he whispered. “He's just my boss.”

“Your boss?”

Beomgyu hummed, his lips grazing your neck. “Yeah, I hate him.”

“Why?”

“He exploited me for years,” he murmured against you. “Made my life hell.”

“Then why not leave?”

“Sometimes it's hard to leave the hand that feeds you,” he murmured.

You looked down at him, your heart tight. “I’ll be here to listen if you need me to.”

Beomgyu’s hand glided along your back, the coolness of his fingertips sending shivers down your spine. “I'll tell you everything, pretty. In time.”

With his lingering touch, you leaned into him, listening to his heart beat against his chest slowly. This was more than a kiss, this was a choice. This was you consuming your forbidden fruit. No matter what you said to try to convince yourself, you couldn’t deny it anymore. Beomgyu was temptingly sweet.

“You’re mine now,” Beomgyu whispered, caressing your hair softly.

You nodded. You had chosen this. And now, there would be no going back.

Since that night, everything between you and Beomgyu shifted—subtle but undeniable. You found yourself at Golgotha even earlier, savouring his presence before matches, enjoying the tender kisses that became more frequent with each passing day. As always, you visited him after each match, sharing a lingering kiss as a reward for his victory before Soobin came.

But it was only a matter of time before the secret moments blurred into everyday life, regardless of who was there.

The first time you kissed him in Soobin’s presence, the tension was so thick, not even a knife could cut through it. It happened so unconsciously. One moment you were laughing over something ridiculous after his match and before you knew it, your lips were on his, the kiss soft but lingering.

Soobin froze. His hands stilled in midair, his medical supplies clattering to the floor as the scene played out before him. He didn’t even spare you a glance. Instead, his gaze was solely fixed on Beomgyu, sharp and unreadable. His jaw clenched tightly; his body taut with barely contained frustration.

“Are you serious, Beomgyu?” his voice strained, disbelief and anger evident. “Really? Her?”

Beomgyu didn’t flinch, seemingly unaffected by the tension or his words. He simply smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, deliberately testing Soobin’s patience.

“What, Soobin? You gonna beat my ass?” Beomgyu teased, a playful edge evident in his voice.

Soobin’s lips quivered in annoyance. “She just pops up out of nowhere, gives you a bunch of sweet words and you just give in? Just like that? Are you stupid?”

Beomgyu’s smile dropped, all playfulness gone. “That’s not any of your concern, Soobin. What I do with her isn’t any of your business.”

“But it is!” Soobin stood up in anger. “You’re my best friend and I can’t watch you get used by

some rich whore.”

Your heart broke at his words. You knew Soobin was speculative of you, hell, he had a right to be, but hearing him speak like that, even if your true intentions weren’t pure, felt like he meticulously stabbed a knife in your chest. Before you could defend yourself, Beomgyu’s voice cut through with a coldness only reserved for Kwang-soo.

“Enough, Soobin. You can say all the other shit you want, but don’t call her a whore, that’s going too far. You don’t know her.”

“And neither do you!” his voice cracked. With a sharp breath, Soobin finally turned to the door. “I can’t have another person use you,” he said softer before storming out of the room, slamming the door with a resounding bang.

Beomgyu pressed a soft kiss against your shoulder, his way to silently comfort you. “I'm sorry about him. He'll come around soon, I'll promise.”

“I'm not sure about that,” you laughed softly. “He really doesn't like me.”

“He's just protective. And this is not me excusing his behaviour. Just wanted you to understand his perspective.”

You gazed at him softly, “I know, Beomgyu. I understand.”

Eventually, Taehyun also noticed the way you became, more avoidant, more silent. The tension that night was higher than usual between you, Taehyun didn't talk as much, as if his mind was distant.

He said your name softly. “I'm going to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me.”

“Okay. Is everything alright?” you asked.

“When were you going to tell me?”

You stopped. Your heart started to race. You didn't like where this conversation was headed.

“What are you talking about?” you asked defensively.

Taehyun rubbed his temples, saying your name harsher this time. “Don't do that to me. I'm not stupid.”

He sighed before continuing, “When were you going to tell me that you started kissing Beomgyu?”

You felt your heart drop. You definitely did not like where this conversation was headed.

“Taehyun I—”

“No. You don't get to apologize. I understand that you had some weird connection to him but you're going to get yourself hurt.”

“It's for the story,” you defended.

“You and I both know that's bullshit.”

His words were harsh, there was no room for comfort. You knew why he did this, but it didn't hurt any less.

“You don't get it, Taehyun,” you said.

“I don’t get it?” Taehyun looked at you as if you were stupid.

“I do get it. I was the one who saw you live through it. The rush, the trill, the way you think you’re so desperately helping him but you're only going to hurt yourself again.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” the words tore from your throat before you could stop them, raw and jagged at the edges. “You think I don’t remember what happened? It happened right in front of my eyes, Taehyun. I killed her.”

Taehyun’s face faltered for a second. His breath shaky as he took a step closer. His voice dropped to a whisper, “You didn’t kill anyone. But the man you fell in love with did.”

The world felt as if it was spinning. You didn't even realize you were crying until you felt the salty taste of your tears brush against your lips. You squeezed your eyes trust, desperately trying to keep the past buried but it crashed in with the force of a tidal wave, pulling you under.

You could still see his face—the fear, the betrayal—as the police stormed in. The gunshot still echoed in your ears as the victim crumpled to the ground. He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. But it didn’t change the fact that he killed her.

Everything felt like a blur—the way you rushed to the victim, her warm, sticky blood coated your hands and soaked through your clothes—but his eyes were the only thing that remained. It was always the eyes. His weren’t fiery—no—they were cold, afraid, betrayed. You were his Judas, his demise and in some sick way, he was yours too.

“I just wanted to fix him, Taehyun,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “I thought I could make things right.”

“And you think you can do it again?” Taehyun asked softly, his hand brushing against your shoulder.

You nodded. No matter how much you thought about it, there was no saving him, he was already too far gone.

You were naïve then. A doe-eyed 21-year-old ready to take on the world. It was your first big-girl case, an investigation into the corporate world. And your target? Lee Dong-wook—corporate heir on the Forbes 30 Under 30 list. His name was everywhere, the epitome of success. He was the kind of man everyone wanted to be or be with.

You should’ve known something was wrong when he so easily welcomed you into his world—his unavoidable charm and charisma reeling you in effortlessly, setting you ablaze. “You have potential,” he had told you the first time, but something darker hid beneath the surface. “Glad to see a beautiful, young investigative journalist like you, make your mark in the world.”

You thought it was pure genuineness at first, but every praise was a calculated move, involving you seamlessly into his world until you were too far gone. It was the small things at first, from the late nights to the drinks at high-end restaurants, the conversation never stayed on business, just you.

Then, there was a crack, and the hidden part of his world revealed itself. His eyes were no longer warm; they were icy cold. The darkness creeped in gradually before it consumed you entirely. He showed you the other side of his empire—the drugs, the shady dealings, the trafficking, the girls.

Those poor girls. Just like you, young and naïve.

It wasn’t part of his plan, for him to fall in love with you so deeply, and maybe that was the worst part. You were never meant to be anything, just another casualty.

You remembered the first girl you saw, eyes wide with fear, pale as if she was a ghost. She didn’t belong there, but he made sure you belonged.

Dong-wook's grip tightened on your wrist, pulling you away from the girl harshly. “Remember what I told you, sweetheart,” he muttered. “No paying attention to them. They’re insignificant.”

You hated yourself for it. For gathering the evidence, for getting the police involved so hastily. But it wasn’t just the investigation. You were scared—scared that more girls would’ve become like her—lost, broken, used.

You wanted to save her. You wanted to save him. You wanted to save yourself.

But in the end? No one was saved.

You were on temporary layoff after that. The company faced severe backlash when news spread that you had mishandled sensitive information and escalated the situation by getting too involved with the suspect. The world seemed to turn against you, but they never understood that you were a victim too caught between what you thought was right and the sweet lies he fed you.

Days had blurred, the only that remained was the guilt, the regret, the nightmares. Therapy and Taehyun were the only things that felt grounding, but even then, it wasn’t easy. Reliving the moments to understand what you went through was tortuous—maddening—when you realized you deep you had allowed yourself to fall into it.

Taehyun tried his best to be there. He wasn’t assigned to the case directly, only able to watch from the sidelines, but you shared every detail with him. You had been his partner before the storm hit, and after? You weren’t even sure you were yourself.

But Taehyun tried, he tried so hard to keep you afloat, refusing to let the guilt of the case consume you. No one but you could’ve fixed this, no matter how hard anyone tried, only you had the capabilities to save yourself from well…you.

It took some time, more time than you’d like to admit, but for that very first time, you remembered how to float, how to breathe again. Pieces of yourself were broken then, and there were still some broken pieces now. But now, you could breathe.

You heard Taehyun calling your name, his voice breaking through the fog. Slowly, you became aware of your surroundings. You were back in the parking lot. Your senses felt heightened—tears had long since stopped falling but your legs ached. You somehow ended up crouching, knees pressed against your chest. The cold air against your skin jolted you back to reality, reeling you in from the dark corners of your mind.

“Hey, you okay?” Taehyun’s voice was soft now, laced with concern. “I’m sorry if I was too harsh. I just… want to protect you. I’m not saying Beomgyu is like Dong-wook. You just need to think of all the possibilities when faced with the unknown.”

You knew he meant well. Taehyun always meant well. But you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, not because you didn’t want to, but because of the lump stuck in your throat. So, you simply nodded.

Months passed. Slowly pieces of confirmed information came to light. Golgotha was surprisingly very thorough when it came to protecting their information, maybe the number of high-profile clients involved had something to do with it.

“Day 153. It's been roughly five months since I’ve started unveiling the secrets of Golgotha. But things have been…slow. Golgotha is very particular with the information they have pertaining to clients and staff. We were able, however, to get our hands on the file of Kwang-soo. We hope to find more information on the mastermind behind this, but for now, this is what we have.”

You paused. The last five months felt terribly stagnant. The mastermind behind Golgotha was careful, perhaps a bit too careful. You watched as the rain condensed against your window. You had a feeling something bad was coming, but you didn’t think much of it—hoping it was just the anxiety talking.

“The file confirms that Kwang-soo, Park Kwang-soo, is in fact known to be the primary person within Golgotha to exploit his workers, at times, leaving them to live in sub-par conditions. Additionally, the file also indicates that 10 years ago, he had Chu Jung-Hwa, his last client before Choi Beomgyu murdered as he played him at his own game, exploiting him of his own money. This further solidifies that Kwang-soo is not only a suspect, but also a threat to Choi Beomgyu. This is all the information for now. With time, the mastermind will be revealed.”

With the familiar click of the recorder, you concluded another day. You hoped things became more interesting soon, something to shatter the monotony of everything. And to clarify, you loved the time you spent with Beomgyu, you were just scared you lost yourself even worse this time.

And things became more interesting indeed. Just…not in the way you hoped. An unlikely friendship formed between Soobin and Taehyun, both bonding over their shared protective nature for Beomgyu and you, respectively.

It was almost comedic to witness. Soobin would glare at you suspiciously, his eyes narrowing, only to turn around and happily engage in conversation with Taehyun. And Taehyun? He was no better. He hardly spared Beomgyu a glance, focusing instead on his budding friendship with Soobin, whom he deemed “the only other sane, sensible one in this symbolically religious hellhole.”

Both you and Beomgyu smiled at the absurdity of it all—thankful that in the midst of Golgotha’s chaos, a common ground had been found. You just hoped that when the truth began to unveil, the formed friendship would remain the same.

“Let’s go for drinks,” Soobin had suggested to Taehyun one night. You and Beomgyu were cozying up on the couch while Soobin and Taehyun sat on another—a recent addition to the room. Soobin watched you both, eyes narrowing before muttering, “You guys can join too, I guess.”

Golgotha was lively as always with patrons enjoying the performances of the night. But in the corner of your eye, you saw red. Bright red hair. His smile was unbelievably confident, and a charm that was sure to turn heads. He made immediate eye contact with you, one that read “Jackpot”.

“Soobin. Beomgyu,” he greeted. He stared at Taehyun, who received only a polite smile, clearly uninterested before he turned to you, eyes glimmering with intent. “And who might this lovely lady be?” When you said your name softly, he took your hand, kissing it gently, “The pleasure is mine. Yeonjun’s the name.” He flashed you a charming smile, the smile becoming even larger when Beomgyu wrapped a protective arm around your waist.

“Back off, Yeonjun,” he hissed. “Don’t even think about it.”

Yeonjun smirked, unfazed. “C’mon Beomgyu, lemme have her. Everyone knows you don’t associate yourself with patrons. Gotta know if she’s willing to sponsor me.” He winked at you, clearly hoping you’d get the hint.

“Sorry,” you said softly, “I don’t sponsor fighters. I just like Beomgyu.”

Yeonjun looked at you in shock, “Him?! I can offer you so much more, sweetheart.”

“Yeonjun,” Beomgyu interjected, his town sharp. “You go through women like they’re cheap underwear. Leave my girl alone.”

Yeonjun’s smirk somehow grew even larger. “Your girl, huh? Well…if you ever want a change…” he trailed off, waving goodbye, going God knows where.

Soobin and Taehyun exchanged amused glances, watching Beomgyu with barely concealed grins. “What was that about?” Soobin spoke up, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Just shut up and let’s go for the dumb drinks, Soobin,” Beomgyu grumbled.

“So, I’m your girl, huh?” you teased, leaning into him.

He smiled as he looked down at you, warmth in his gaze. “Of course you are.”

“Who was he though?” you asked, curiosity piqued.

“Rival,” Beomgyu grunted. “He’s the only person in Golgotha that has the potential to beat my ass. He’s just annoying in the ring. Don’t mind him much.”

You rested your head against Beomgyu’s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath. Taehyun and Soobin ignored you as usual, enjoying their own world, leaving you two alone. Beomgyu held your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over it slowly as you waited for your drinks to arrive.

Something felt off.

The warmth of his touch should’ve been comforting, but there was a strange unease twisting in your chest. The sound of his heartbeat only seemed to summon the raging storm called your thoughts —your past, present and future overlapped—overwhelmed with possibilities, of things that could have been and the things that could be.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

At first, you deemed it nothing, just a flicker—a flash of movement. But said movement lingered, cold eyes staring at you, his cold eyes. It was dark, but the features you made out could have only belonged to one person.

Dong-wook.

He should have been in jail, you thought. There was no way he’d be there. It shouldn't have been possible, not after everything. But the longer you stared, the more you became convinced that it was him.

Adrenaline rushed in and your throat closed up. Your heart pounded aggressively against your chest, trying to escape. Your body tensed. This shouldn't be happening right now.

“Hey, you okay?” Beomgyu’s voice broke through, laced with concern. His other arm tightened around you, almost as if he sensed your panic. “You suddenly tensed up. Is something wrong?”

The eyes stayed. No matter how much you blinked, Dong-wook's icy cold eyes never seemed to disappear.

“It’s nothing,” you said softly, forcing a weary smile. “Just thought I saw someone from my past.”

Taehyun’s ears perked up at your words. His gaze immediately shifted to you.

“Where?” he asked, his conversation with Soobin long forgotten. The moment Taehyun looked to where you pointed, his eyes were gone.

“There’s no one there. Are you okay?”

You waved your hand dismissively, “I’m fine, really. I probably just need some sleep.”

Taehyun stared at you a touch longer before he turned his attention back to Soobin while Beomgyu gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “You sure?” he asked, “I can fight, baby. Just say the word.”

You nodded again, more firmly this time. “Don’t worry, Gyu. It’s alright.”

He didn’t seem convinced but chose not to push you further.

Despite wanting to convince yourself that it was okay, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was there. The shadow of your past was back, and he was closer than you thought.

Act 3 || Flesh and Fire

Beomgyu leaned against a wall in his locker room, smoking a cigarette as the sound of Golgotha simmered beyond the walls. Nothing was special about today’s performance, but for some reason he felt more tense than usual. He exhaled the smoke, its warmth doing nothing to alleviate his unease.

He needed to focus, to block out everything else. But his thoughts kept slipping back into a past he wished he’d forgotten. Beomgyu closed his eyes, but the thoughts seemed to fester more.

Kwang-soo

The name made his jaw clench. He had promised him then. At eighteen and desperate to make a living, Kwang-soo appeared with flowery words laced with thorns, promising an easy life, easy money. What bullshit that turned out to be. Kwang-soo was nothing but a greedy bastard who cared about no one but himself. Carving a profit out of the pain Beomgyu was left to suffer.

Things were hard then. Seven years ago, Beomgyu was nothing but a punching bag in the ring. Every punch, every fall, every bitter taste of defeat was seared into his memory. Week after week, he was knocked down, a terrible fighter, barely able to hold himself up. Yet with every loss, Kwang-soo’s pockets grew heavier. Like Beomgyu, the patrons succumbed to Kwang-soo’s words, betting millions on him, just to lose it all in the end.

And Beomgyu’s share? Pity scraps that barely covered his basic needs.

But with every loss, he learned. Ached. Grew. Came back stronger. Not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. It was no longer about money, but survival. Slowly and painfully, he started winning. Eventually, Beomgyu started placing small bets on himself—not openly, of course. Kwang-soo would never allow that. He asked Soobin to do it for him and eventually his money flowed back to him. Not because of fighter insights, but because he was just that good.

Still, the fools kept betting against him. Chasing pity miracles, hoping to one day see his fall from the grace he had bled to reach. And Kwang-soo? He hated every minute of it. But staying true to his greedy nature, he switched sides—taking a cut from his winnings. A cut that no longer left him bleeding.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was that Beomgyu had allowed it. Allowed the bastard to profit off his pain. For so long, Beomgyu had been his puppet. But not anymore; it was his playground now.

His mind flickered to you, pulling him out of his spiral. It always seemed to be you these days. Seven months. 213 days. Beomgyu had come to know you in seven months and life hasn’t been so good since. He thought you were like every other patron at first. But now? You had become so much more.

It didn’t happen all at once, it was gradual. Despite your initial interaction, despite the pull he felt, Beomgyu heeded Soobin’s words, keeping you at an arm’s length. But you were persistent. Not in a domineering kind of way—you didn’t treat Beomgyu as if he was just another part of the act. You showed genuine interest in him, something that wasn’t seen among people of that stature, especially when it came to people like him.

You came every night, never missing a moment to truly talk with him. Even during the days, he barely spared you a glance, you stayed—choosing to keep quiet in the corner of the room, quietly smiling at his interactions with Soobin. With time, you melted his ice and by the time he blinked you became an integral part of his life.

You became his light, his reason—offering him something he once lost—his humanity. He lost himself once before, when the anger and resentment consumed him. But now, he had you—his guiding light among the dark and terrible sea of manipulation and greed. To him, you were the biggest anomaly.

Now that he had you, Beomgyu feared he’d lose you. People fed on betrayal, greed—using others for their own gain. There was some part in each of us that reeked of Judas—not necessarily in a literal sense, but as a reflection of human imperfection. He just hoped that you were the latter.

Not now, he thought. He couldn’t afford for his mind to wander to you now. Not before the match. Beomgyu drew in a deep breath, shaking off the weight of past memories and you. He needed to get through this fight, the last one for the night before his mind could have you.

He finished his cigarette, crushing the remnants under his shoe before taking a deep breath and making his way to the main room. His eyes immediately found your face in the crowd, but his jaw clenched. Yeonjun. So that was the reason he felt tense, he thought.

Yeonjun found his way back to you, his grabby hands around your shoulder as you both laughed. You seemed to be enjoying it. Beomgyu hoped you were just being polite, for Yeonjun's sake. It wasn’t like him to be jealous. But his stomach twisted in unease at the proximity between you. He hated it. Beomgyu refused to admit that jealousy was present. He didn’t want to acknowledge the unfamiliar heat that rose in his chest.

He needed his match over. Now. His hands were antsy to do something, anything to get his mind off Yeonjun’s touch contaminating you. He felt temporary relief as the host announced his match, thankful you found your way back to his side of the ring. You gave him a knowing smile. You had a mischievous glint in your eyes, almost as if the entire scene was a deliberate means of testing his very thin patience.

He gritted his teeth as he stepped into the ring, barely registering the liveliness of Golgotha in his ears. All that mattered now was getting the match over with. He almost felt sorry for whoever was going to receive the brunt of his annoyance.

Yeonjun entered the stage. He had forgotten he was fighting him—now, he felt no remorse.

The gong rang and Beomgyu’s body sprang into motion. Focus. That was his mantra. All he did was focus on you—your smile, your laugh, your everything—just you. With each thought, his punches landed faster, harder, stronger.

Yeonjun. That fucking smile. The way he touched you. And the way you let him.

Beomgyu’s knuckles cracked against Yeonjun’s ribs, the sound barely registering to him as blood flowed through his ears. The only thing running through his mind was the way fingers were against you. Yeonjun staggered, but Beomgyu didn’t stop, landing another punch, stronger than the last.

Despite the punches Yeonjun took, he had the audacity to smirk, taunting him with that dumb confident look on his face. Beomgyu’s blood boiled, dodging Yeonjun’s shitty attempts at punches, slamming a fist straight into his face.

But that wasn’t enough. Beomgyu needed him down. He wanted to break him, destroy him for even thinking he could touch you that way. And with a final blow, his fist kissed Yeonjun’s jaw, sending him crumpling to the ground. The gong rang again, bringing him back to his senses.

He didn’t care for the host’s commentary or the patrons' applause. His eyes immediately searched the crowd; all he wanted was you. He climbed out of the ring, making his way to you—his chest feeling full, having finally found you.

Before you could even react, he grabbed your face, crashing his lips against yours, possessive and urgent. This was his message. Every ounce of jealousy oozed out of him as he savoured your taste. You were his. And if you didn’t know that before, now you knew.

The kiss was raw. There was no gentleness, no easing in. This was pure need. Possession. He couldn’t explain it—not to you, not to himself—savouring the way you whimpered against him.

“You’re mine,” he rasped as he pulled away for air. He watched your eyes intensely, seeing the way you gasped for air. “You’re fucking mine. You hear me? No one else's.”

“And what a beautiful conclusion to such a wonderful performance, ladies and gentlemen,” the host concluded as he and the fellow patrons watched on.

Without giving you a chance to speak, he dragged you through the crowd, ignoring the surprise on your face at his very forward action. His grip didn’t loosen once, aggressively opening the door to his locker room as he yanked you inside.

Beomgyu’s eyes darkened. If you were going to act like you didn’t know, Beomgyu was going to make damn sure that you understood that he owned every single inch of you.

Fuck, you thought. You were royally fucked, and quite literally at that, but it’s not like you had mind.

You savoured the way Beomgyu’s lips found their way back on yours as the door to his locker room closed behind you. The kiss had a different kind of fierceness to it—one you didn’t experience before, one that ignited an inextinguishable fire within you. He had you up against the wall, trapped, with no room for escape. He pulled away from you, his eyes bleeding with a fiery passion. “You belong to me,” he growled, “No one else. Only me.”

His hands gripped your waist tightly as he kissed along your neck, determined to mark every inch of your skin as his. You whined, dizzy with pleasure as you felt the heat radiating from his body. Every part of you that he touched burned with desire, longing, a desperate need for more.

“Beomgyu,” you moaned as he left passionate marks on your neck’s sensitive skin. Each hickey was just the start of his possessive claim of you. He trailed his mouth downward, the fiery kisses became a touch softer, leaving more trails between your chest, your low-cut dress giving him ease of access.

Beomgyu ripped your dress off with a vengeance. “You could afford another one, can’t you?” he murmured against your chest. You shivered as the cold air caused your nipples to perk up, holding back a moan as Beomgyu took your breasts into his hands, massaging them as he returned to your neck once more.

“Come on, love,” Beomgyu whispered against your neck. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.”

And just like that, your moans began to echo off the walls. There was no sense of time here—just the two of you stuck in limbo. With ease, Beomgyu picked you up, the sweat from his skin dripping onto you as he moved you to the couch.

“I need to remind you of who you belong to,” Beomgyu said as he spread your legs open, leaving more kisses along your thighs, each one sending a gentle shockwave through you. The more Beomgyu kissed every inch of you, the more your core throbbed, eager to have him in indescribable ways. He slipped a finger through the delegate fabric of your lingerie, tracing along the edge with a slow deliberate touch.

He chuckled darkly before he nudged the fabric to the side, pressing a teasing kiss against your core. “This is about my pleasure,” he grunted as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with hunger and possession. “I need to teach you a valuable lesson.”

As his lips met with your core, he worshipped you with a sense of reverie—savouring every inch of you—your taste—his holy communion, his bread and wine. He gripped your thighs open, his tongue honouring every one of your folds.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he murmured before going back in again.

Each wave of pleasure that coursed through you felt like different parts of your higher self were being unlocked. His tongue traced slow, deliberate patterns, flicking gently, teasing you as you so desperately whined, begging him for more.

Beomgyu pulled back, pulling your face down, capturing you in another searing kiss. His tongue danced with yours, the salty-sweet of you mixed with the flavour of his cigarette smoke. “Savour your taste,” he whispered against your lips, “Don’t let this moment go to waste.”

His fingers traced your body once more, your sensitivity even more than before. He rubbed his fingers against your core teasingly, looking up at you with a mischievous look on his face before he slowly slid a finger inside you. He moved with deliberate, slow movements, teasing you as you adjusted to the new sensation inside you.

You whined, your body desperately wanting more. “Look at you,” Beomgyu tutted as you squirmed under his gaze. “Such a desperate slut,” he teased as he slid another finger inside you, curling his fingers just enough, finding the perfect spot that made you shiver uncontrollably. You whimpered, helpless beneath his touch, your mind hazy with pleasure as his fingers continued to pound rhythmically into you.

Your moans grew louder, your body arched with need as you felt your climax building up. His eyes locked unto yours, dark and teasing as he slipped his fingers out of you. A smirk spread across his lips as you whined, aching and undone.

“Not yet,” he whispered, “You can only cum while I'm in you.” Beomgyu’s gaze never left yours, his body tracing your curves once more before he began to strip away his clothes, his length becoming even more apparent, girthy—desperate for you. With one fluid motion, he lined himself up with you, teasingly rubbing his tip against your swollen clit. You whined.

“You’re mine,” he reminded you again. “No one else will ever feel you the way I do.”

Beomgyu then buried himself into you slowly, tortuously. The sensation of him buried inside you sent hot pinpricks cascading across your skin—your body was on fire. Your body instinctively arched as every inch of him found a home inside you. His fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back as his lips found your neck once more.

His pace was slow and deliberate, a rhythm that consumed you—raw and unrelenting. “Beomgyu…” you whimpered. “Faster, please.” He pulled back, his passionate eyes locking with your lidded ones—doubling the sensations you felt.

“Not until the way I feel inside you is ingrained into you,” he growled. “Not until you know every inch of me.”

You felt everything. Every nerve ending sent an electrical signal throughout your body. Your mind was hazed as Beomgyu’s tip kissed your cervix.

“Say it,” Beomgyu growled low, “Say you’re mine.”

The words tumbled out of you like a rushed confession, “I’m yours, Beomgyu.” Tears pricked at your lash line, threatening to spill over—the pleasure was overbearing. “Fuck, I’m yours.”

“Good girl,” he smiled darkly as his pace quickened—each thrust a fierce claim, an increased sense of urgency. Your breath quickened; the waves of pleasure crashed into you unapologetically. Every aspect of Beomgyu was intoxicating, from his musky sent to the way his skin glistened and stuck to you—the moment felt unreal.

This was your sin—not from the tree of knowledge but one of the seven. Lust—it was undeniably sweet—and in some symbolic way, he was your Adam and you, his Eve. Succumbing to your desires, surrendering to the intoxicating allure of lust, submitting to each other.

“Fuck,” Beomgyu groaned, “you’re so fucking tight.” Somehow his pace intensified, pushing the limits to how deep he can be inside you. Your body shuddered beneath him, trembling as your pleasure built up.

As Beomgyu’s grip on you tightened, you felt him tense and twitch inside you. With a sharp, guttural sound, his climax hit—his cum spilled, hot and sticky, a primal mark of possession that sent even more heat through your veins. The sensation triggered your own release crash through you, loud and fierce, like a tidal wave, a perfect echo to his.

Beomgyu picked you up again, resting your body against his as he sank onto the couch, his cum spilling out of you slowly. His breath was heavy and uneven as his lips crashed onto yours, the raw, possessive desire still present.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His hands traced your trembling body, “in every breath, every touch, every moment. No one else will ever have you like this.”

He pulled back strands of your hair that stuck to your face, “Especially Yeonjun,” he whispered before kissing you softly, his gentle promise to you.

Only your breathing filled the silence, the two of you wrapped in the hush of what had just transpired. The air was heavy, a sacred, still moment suspended in time. This was your garden—your Eden—before the fall, before the crash; a time that would soon fade into a distant memory.

Suddenly the door swung open, and Beomgyu’s grip around you tightened. Soobin entered, focusing on his supplies as he talked. “Beomgyu! I heard your fight with Yeonjun was a hit among the patrons. Something about what you did at the end. What was it…” he trailed off, looking up, his eyes widened in shock at the sight before him, the both of you naked and entwined.

His hands immediately covered his eyes as he groaned. “Ugh, you guys are disgusting!” he exclaimed, a deep crimson rising to his cheeks. “Could it not wait?”

“Sorry man. Had to teach her a lesson,” Beomgyu spoke up, the smirk evident in his voice.

“Gross! Just call me in when you’re decent.”

“Uh, Soobin,” you called out, feeling embarrassed. “Could you grab me a change of clothes?”

He peeked through his fingers, “What happened to your clothes?” he asked, his tone in disbelief.

“I destroyed it,” Beomgyu said, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

“Of course you did,” Soobin mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief as he turned to leave.

You turned to Beomgyu as the door closed, both of you grinned in amusement. The moment shifted, becoming softer as Beomgyu gazed at you lovingly. He leaned in and kissed you again—this time not with hunger, not possession— it was raw, genuine love. It was slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that said everything for words that hadn’t been found yet.

And if you succumbed to the Judas within you in the end, you’d make sure to savour these moments—because when the day of crucifixion came, you'd become undone on the cross, offering everything for the sins that could never be undone.

Guilt wrapped itself around you, threading through your fingertips, causing your hands to tremble. You promised yourself to do this—you had to. Telling Taehyun you slept with Beomgyu wasn’t ideal. Nothing about it was. But sooner or later—one way or another—he’d find out, and who better to tell him than you, right? Wrong.

You knew what Taehyun would say. You knew the protocol. Yes, you’d become too involved, that was obvious from the start. But how could you help it when Beomgyu loved you in a way you never thought you’d experience?

You picked at your lip as you stood outside of Taehyun’s apartment. Showing up unannounced wasn’t unlike you, but if you thought about it any longer, you wouldn’t be able to go through with it at all.

With the ring of his doorbell, you heard him call, “Coming!” muffled by the door. Your anxiety spiked with the sound of his voice. You prayed Taehyun would understand your complexity of the situation.

He opened the door, his doe eyes widening in shock as he took in the sight of you standing there. His expression shifted to confusion as he softly spoke your name. “What are you doing here? Not that I don’t want you, but you never show up unannounced.” He studied your face, searching for some kind of explanation. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, unable to find your voice for a moment. “Taehyun, I—I need to tell you something,” the words stumbled out, fast and breathless. “Can I come in?”

Taehyun's eyes widened in surprise. “Of course!” he said, quickly stepping aside, gesturing to you to come inside. His gaze softened as he sensed your anxiety. “Do you want anything?” Water? Juice? Cider?”

“Water’s fine,” you replied softly, wrapping your arms around yourself; a failing attempt to calm yourself down. You offered a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thank you.”

“Take a seat. I’ll be right back.”

As you sank onto the couch, the weight of the moment stayed beside you. The case lost its true meaning long ago—the moment you kissed Beomgyu, you knew it was never the same. And sleeping with him? That only solidified it—there really was no turning back now. You stared at your hands, the tremble was still there, the weight of your own guilt made it hard to breathe.

“Here,” Taehyun said softly, handing you a cold water as he settled beside you, cider in hand.

“So,” he said, his voice getting a little quieter, “What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the heaviness settle in your chest. This was it.

“I slept with him,” you confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “Beomgyu.”

“...What?” Taehyun’s voice cracked slightly as hurt flashed across his features. His hand froze mid-air, the cider forgotten as your words left him confused.

You saw the immediate shift in him—the way his posture stiffened, the subtle way he tried to pull back emotionally, but the shock was still there. He placed the cider aside and looked at you. He was mad, but not his usual outward anger. No, this was different. This anger was silent, and that's what made it terrifying.

Taehyun sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Why?” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Why him?”

The words hung in the air. You knew the answer to it, and you knew that he knew too; but saying it out loud would mark a change in your relationship forever.

Taehyun wasn’t looking at you, his gaze fixed on the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you anymore.

“I—” you started, but your voice faltered, breaking under the weight of what you were about to say.

He lifted his head slowly, his eyes finally meeting yours, and in them you saw something that made your heart drop—hurt. A raw, sharp kind of hurt but there was something deeper to it, something you weren’t sure you could fix.

“Say it,” he whispered, almost pleading. “Admit it.”

You opened your mouth again, but no sound came. It wasn’t until your heart caught in your throat, constricting your chest that you whispered, “I love him.”

Taehyun laughed in disbelief, “You love him?”

You nodded. It was eight months of knowing Beomgyu and five months loving him. It might seem rushed to others, but love didn’t conform to the rules—love, love worked in mysterious ways. And with Beomgyu, it wasn’t planned, it just crept up on you like a thief in the night.

“Does he even know how you like your coffee?” Taehyun asked, his voice surprisingly calm. “Black, two sugars with a touch of cream?”

You blinked, taken aback by the shift in conversation. The question felt like an unwilling razor against your skin.

“How about the way you rip off your tags from your clothes?” he continued. “Does he even know how uncomfortable it makes your skin feel?”

Your breath hitched. Taehyun casually listed little things about you—things you barely remembered about yourself.

“Or the way you carry a journal with you, to sketch and write poetry? You always loved connecting with art and nature, always mentioning how grounding it was.”

He sighed. “And what about your real identity?” his voice lowered. “Not the rich girl in Golgotha. The real you. The one beyond the case?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out—the words were tangled in your throat. What could you say to Taehyun that wouldn’t hurt him? The truth? The truth that you never felt this way before? You always believed love should follow a certain process, but now that you were in it, you realized that love just happened. There was no correct time frame when it came to falling in love.

Taehyun’s eyes softened, but the pain was still there. He ruffled his hair in frustration as his eyes searched yours for something—something to stop him from pouring his heart out to you.

“...I’m sorry, Taehyun,” you whispered. “I can’t help who I fell in love with. It just happens.”

Taehyun laughed softly, almost bitterly. Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. Instead, he stared at you, all the brokenness scattered across his sleeve. “I know,” he murmured softly, his voice thick with emotion. “The worst part is I can’t get mad at you… because I know.”

He took a deep breath, “I know because that’s how I feel with you.”

Your heart dropped—blood rushed to your ears in shock. You blinked at him confused, as if he grew a second head. The weight of his words were undeniably heavy—no chance for you to carry.

“What?” you asked, the disbelief evident in your voice. “You love me?”

The frustration was engraved in Taehyun’s features as he stared at you—stared at your soul. “Yes. I do. And I always will.” His words became heavier, more than you could ever bear. “But I never had the guts to say anything. Not when I saw the way Dong-wook left you.”

His voice became softer as he continued, “You needed a friend, not a lover. I couldn’t let my selfish desire get in the way of you—your recovery. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“...I’m sorry, Taehyun.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening as he held back his voice. “You aren’t,” he murmured coldly. “You can’t be. It’s not like you knew.”

He sighed, his frustration transforming into exhaustion. “And you know what's even worse? I have the authority to pull you off the case. To tell Boss you’re emotionally compromised, but I won’t.” His voice faltered again, “Because you’re lucky. I am lucky that I love you.”

He continued, his tone softening despite the raging storm inside. “As much as I hate it… I can’t take that love away from you.”

“Taehyun…thank you,” you whispered, tears spilling from your eyes, “Thank you.”

“Just prove to me that this love you have isn’t a mistake,” he said coldly, “Prove me wrong.”

Your heart twisted at his brokenness, “But…what happens to us?”

“Nothing,” he said simply. “Despite all of this,” he gestured between the both of you, “I just want you to be happy. And if that happiness is with Beomgyu, then so be it.”

Then, without thinking you hug Taehyun, wrapping your arms around him as you whisper guilt-ridden apologies—not for your feelings, but for the mess that the situation had become.

But what broke you down completely was the sound of a quiet sob escaping his lips, the way his breath hitched, and the tremble in his arms as they tightened around you.

His tears soaked your shirt, the warmth of them seeping through the fabric—a clear testament to the feelings he had been holding back—to the words that could have never been said.

You confessed to finding love that day. And Taehyun? He confessed to losing it.

And yet, despite the pain, life still moved on. It always did. The world kept turning, whether or not you were ready to face it. But sometimes, moving on wasn’t about letting go, it was about surviving. And in that moment, that’s all you could do. Survive.

Weeks passed and everything blurred together. Time became a series of disconnected moments—half-hearted conversations, strained smiles, even barely recognizing yourself. You didn’t know if Taehyun treating you the same made things better or worse—the way his smile hadn’t shifted, staying the very same—even when he saw Beomgyu by your side.

The investigation had another pregnant lull—no progressions, no breakthroughs, nothing. After confirming Kwang-soo’s role, after seeing his eyes in the darkness, it felt as if the secrets of Golgotha were closing in. Whoever or whatever, was watching you didn’t want you uncovering the truth.

But the funny thing with secrets was that they always had a way of revealing themselves, didn’t they?

You were nursing a drink at the bar that evening, waiting for Beomgyu to finish cleaning up before you spent the night at his apartment—another obvious shift in your relationship. The drink burned your throat—the alcohol—your only current semblance of feeling. There was a man across the bar, a pair of unfamiliar eyes staring at you. His gaze was sharp, almost knowing.

You weren’t sure when he came in, but his presence thickened the air, something unspoken, something you don’t think you wanted to know. He leaned against the bar, his posture too relaxed for someone who was a clear higher up. His gaze was like no other you had encountered that night, sharp and calculating.

Before you could turn away, the stranger approached, his presence imposing. He slid onto the stool beside you, his words instilling an unimaginable fear within you. “So, you’re Dong-wook’s girl?”

Your stomach churned, bile and alcohol rising up your throat. “Pardon?” you choked out, your heart skipping a beat. “Dong-wook?”

He nodded slowly, as though confirming something already obvious to him. “Are you not her?”

You shook your head aggressively, the words tumbling out in a panic. “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person. I’m…Beomgyu’s girl.”

He didn’t seem convinced, his lips curling into a half-smile, something dark, something far too knowing. “Once you’re Dong-wook’s girl, you’re always his. Boss doesn’t forget. He never forgets. Especially with you.”

Your blood ran cold. There was no way the past could be resurfacing, not now, not ever. “Don’t worry though,” he added with a sly smile. “Boss has his plans for you.”

The man walked away without sparing you a second glance, leaving you alone with the sickly taste of his words lingering in the back of your throat. You forced your attention back to your drink, trying to drown out the feeling of being watched—but it didn't leave you.

It felt as though the world around you began to close in. The hair on your neck rose, anxiety bleeding out your veins. You couldn’t shake the feeling—the weight of someone’s eyes on you. You turned around, and there they were. Those eyes. Cold, calculating unblinking. Fixed on you. Watching. Waiting. Studying.

It was impossible to look away—not when you felt the weight of their scrutiny pressing into you, as if they knew everything about you. And that? It scared you.

Before you could make sense of the spiralling thoughts, a familiar warm touch found its way around you—Beomgyu. He placed a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead before gently cupping your cheeks, kissing you sweetly—without missing a beat.

“My beautiful girl. Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice full of concern as his eyes searched yours for an answer, instinctively sensing something was off. You blinked, his presence immediately putting your body and mind at temporary ease.

You nodded, even if it was only half-true. “Yeah,” you murmured, “The vibes are just a bit off tonight.”

Beomgyu’s eyes searched yours once more, before conceding, offering you a gentle smile. “Then let’s get out of here,” he said as he slipped his hand into yours—his touch—a protective shield around you as the lingering eyes faded in the distance.

You didn’t remember the drive to Beomgyu’s apartment, your mind dazed as the cold eyes remained engraved in your mind. The only thing that kept you grounded was Beomgyu’s hand in yours as he drove, opting to let the silence fill the void.

“Sorry if it isn’t up to your standard,” Beomgyu mumbled, embarrassed as he jiggled his keys in the door. He held your hand as he opened the door, turning on a light and guiding you in. He nervously glanced around his small, cozy apartment, “I know isn’t much but…it’s home,” he smiled softly at you.

You inhaled deeply, taking in his apartment—it was everything you lacked in your life—safe, secure, perfect. Every aspect of his apartment felt like him—from the guitars hanging from the wall to the pictures that hung up on his walls, everything had a piece of Beomgyu. It was a stark contrast to the heaviness of the outside world. Here, there were no shadows, no one to judge. Just you and Beomgyu in his little corner of the world.

Beomgyu gauged your reaction, his voice uncertain, “I know you’re used to fancier places than this. If you want to—”

“Beomgyu,” you interrupted softly, squeezing his hand gently in reassurance. “It’s perfect.”

He led you to his room and you felt even more overwhelmed—the feeling of home even more present. It dawned on you then that you never truly felt at home where you lived. It was a house, yes, but not a home. Beomgyu’s however? It was the ultimate definition of one. Despite his struggles, Beomgyu managed to make this place his—his home—his sanctuary.

Beomgyu’s presence soothed some of the noise in your head, but you couldn’t silence it completely. You were tangled in a web called your thoughts, the anxiety of the investigation, the mastermind behind it all, the weight of Taehyun’s confession and Dong-wook. It felt as though everything was spiralling, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold everything inside.

“Here,” Beomgyu said softly, handing you a change of clothes, the soft fabric comforting against your skin. “Change into something comfortable,” he suggested.

You nodded silently, thankful to have that moment—a space to breathe. You slipped into the bathroom, slipping into Beomgyu’s clothes—his oversized shirt swallowing you whole—making you feel small, vulnerable. And the moment you stepped back into the bedroom, everything crashed in. The tears, the stress, everything you had been holding in broke free, hot and uncontrollable.

Beomgyu’s arms immediately wrapped around you, his warm touch comforting. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, “Just let it all out.” Your tears seemed to fall harder with his words; your breath shaky against Beomgyu’s chest as he held you a little tighter.

He pressed a soft reassuring kiss on your temple as he pulled you into bed, holding you close as your tears slowly began to subside. “I know there’s so much more to you than you let on,” he said quietly, his voice filled with understanding. “I’m not asking you to tell me anything. I trust you. No matter what, I will always be here.”

Guilt gnawed at your bones—how much more were you going to be able to protect him? You knew your time was closing in, but this time, you couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice steady. “I love you. I don’t care what secrets you’re holding. None of that can change how I feel about you.”

He paused, his hand cupping your face tenderly as his thumb brushed over the curve of your jaw, grounding you. “Even if my body ceases to exist,” he confessed softly, "my soul will still be in love with you.”

You knew love came in various ways—was expressed differently, but Beomgyu’s love was like no other. There was an indescribable fervour about it—one that felt like the sun’s warmth on a summer’s day, even during the darkest of days, his warmth wouldn’t be swayed.

You didn’t have the strength to speak; the weight of the last 8 months finally took a powerful hold on you. But in that moment—that night—you understood what his love was. His love wasn’t earned; it was given—wholeheartedly without question. In the end you realized you were wrong. Beomgyu wasn’t like the Garden of Eden, he was Boaz—like him, he loved you with patience and generosity, despite the secrets you kept hidden, he loved you without question. And you? You just had to wait and see if you were really like Judas after all.

Beomgyu listened to your breathing as it steadied, soft and rhythmic as you fell asleep. A feeling of tranquillity washed over him as he watched your features relax—the steady rise and fall of your chest, your tear-stained face softening in peace.

Beomgyu had noticed it all. He wasn’t blind to the truth. Your existence in Golgotha had always been strange—you lacked the selfishness that permeated that world. But the real giveaway? Your curiosity. No one from that world of the rich would spare a glance at the fighters; they were all just part of a performance. But you? You wanted to know too much—and that curiosity, Beomgyu knew, could be your downfall.

Still, he chose to ignore it—accepting the way you loved him, without hesitation, even if it was temporary.

He remembered that day, it wasn’t long after you had your first kiss—probably a few days later. You were in the parking lot with Taehyun—his voice sharp and unforgiving. Beomgyu had stood in the shadows, behind a wall, unable to tear his eyes or ears away. He knew it was wrong; he shouldn't have listened. But there was so much more to you than you were willing to share that Beomgyu just wanted to know.

And maybe, it was better not knowing.

Because when Dong-wook’s name slipped past Taehyun’s lips, Beomgyu’s blood ran cold.

Dong-wook, the creator of their hell—the owner of Golgotha. He was a man shrouded in mystery; one they only ever spoke of in whispers. Beomgyu was told he disappeared after his last empire crumbled, only to resurface with something stronger—safer—it became Golgotha.

The real story behind its origin, Beomgyu never knew. What he did know was that the place transformed from an empire of trafficking to a sanctorum for the elite—a place filled with bloodshed and violence—a place—of performance. There was so much more to the eye than it seemed. On the surface, a place for the rich to lounge, but below?

The darkness hadn’t disappeared—it transformed. Changing shape. Some fighters were bought, others stolen, some participated willingly and finally there were those like him, exploited, caught in schemes run by men like Kwang-soo, loyal stray dogs to a master that should’ve never returned.

Beomgyu remembered the way you stiffened against him months ago, dismissing your own behaviour, blaming it on tiredness. But when you stared at the corner with a fear that couldn’t be displaced, he knew there was more to it. And tonight was the true confirmation of your connection to Dong-wook. He had watched you at the bar, he saw the way the higher up approached you—a man not meant to be there. He saw the way you stiffened when he called you Dong-wook’s girl, correcting him, saying you were his—Beomgyu’s.

But the man knew. And from the way you faltered…he knew you did too.

Even as you slept in his arms, Beomgyu’s thoughts kept spinning. He knew that somewhere between the folds of this story, there was a part you didn’t share—the part with Dong-wook. Beomgyu didn’t know the truth, not completely, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to. Not now, not ever.

“I love you,” he whispered, as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Whatever it is…I still do.”

And as he held you a little tighter that night, Beomgyu let himself believe that the fragile, borrowed peace was enough.

Act 4 || The Apostate’s Kiss

They say patience is a virtue—ruled by the angels, the embodiment of divine order. But you? You were no angel. And your patience? It had worn thin.

Ten months.

It had been 310 long, excruciating days spent inside that sanctified hellhole. And quite frankly, you were over it.

Beomgyu was the only thing that kept you grounded—your anchor among the chaos. Without him, you would’ve lost yourself a long time ago.

Tonight, Golgotha felt different. There was a cold, eerie stillness in the air—unnatural for a place that fed on the patron’s energy. It was as if the walls were holding their breath, watching and waiting. You stood at the corner of the bar with Taehyun, savouring the comfort of his presence despite everything that took place between you.

“Madame,” a voice interrupted, drawing your attention. A man came up to you—the same one from before, his smile too wide, too knowing—a smile that created an anxious hole in your stomach. “Boss wants to meet you. I am meant to be your escort.”

You and Taehyun exchanged a glance—yours was fear; his curiosity. “Go on,” he said quietly. “Just…be safe. I’ll let Beomgyu know where you went.”

You gave him a small nod before turning to the man who waited, his arms folded in front of him as he eyed you with intent. Without a word, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a blindfold.

Your stomach dropped. This can’t be happening. You looked at him in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious,” you said.

“It’s protocol,” he shrugged. “Boss doesn’t want guests remembering the way.”

As the fabric slipped over your eyes, the darkness that encapsulated you felt uncomfortable. The warmth of Taehyun’s reassuring hand on your shoulder was replaced by the cold, iron grip of the escort, guiding you forward.

Two lefts. A right. Then a decent twenty steps down a hallway large enough to cause your heels to echo against the floor. You committed each turn, each footstep, to memory.

Finally, you’re pushed into a room on the left. You stumble inside and there’s silence. You hear footsteps approaching you slowly and your heart quickens—a part of you wishes it isn’t who you think it is, but a part of you knows you aren’t wrong.

The man’s cold hands caressed your arms, and it made your skin crawl, made you feel dirty. “Angel,” he said lowly as he removed the blindfold from your eyes. “It’s wonderful to see you again.” As your eyes adjusted to the bright light in the room you felt sick. Dong-wook. You expected this. But even then, it still felt surreal seeing him before you.

He looked the very same as he did all those years ago.

“Dong-wook,” you said coldly. “It’s really you.”

Your fists clenched the moment he stepped closer. His calloused fingers cupping your chin with a firm, possessive grip.

“Still so sharp,” he whispered. “So full of life.”

You recoiled, pulling away. “Don’t touch me.”

He chuckled, soft and maddening. “It’s funny. You would’ve begged for the opposite back then.” Then after a beat, “Glad to know the world hasn’t broken you yet. That’s the fire that I remember.”

“You’re not meant to be here,” you seethed, “how is this possible?”

He began to circle around you slowly, like a wolf with its prey. “Some parts of you are still so innocent,” he mused. “The world is run by money. It was easy to crawl back in.” His tone shifted. “As for Golgotha,” he said, casually brushing dust from his sleeve, “I started that seven years ago. Just another exploitation ring. Another profit.”

Then he faced you, the glint in his eye made your stomach twist.

“But then I met you.”

You froze.

“You were young, gorgeous and with a dream,” he said, his voice drenched in false compassion. “You were supposed to be nothing to me. Just another girl. Just another name to erase. To be stripped and sold.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You knew that was the truth, but it didn’t hurt any less coming from his mouth.

“And yet, you tempted me. Like the devil,” he whispered, “You were the devil, and I loved every minute of it.”

“I rebuilt Golgotha for you,” he said. “The symbolism, the velvet, the power, it wasn’t for the clients. It was for us. Your devil inspired me. This was meant to be our empire.”

“But then,” he said, his eyes cold, “you betrayed me.”

He sat in his chair, drumming his fingers on the armrest. There was a heavy silence between you until he chuckled lowly, almost amused with the memory that crossed his mind.

“She reminded me of you, you know. The last girl.”

You were going to throw up.

“She had your eyes. Same fire, same bite.” He shrugged, “Shame she fell so easily though. Tell me, did it haunt you? Her blood on your hands?”

Your knees felt weak, but you forced yourself to stand tall.

“Then, I brought you back myself.”

“The intel—” you choked out.

“ —was bait,” he finished for you, smug. “I’ve been watching you. And your boss? Easy to fool. It was easy to get you here.”

He tilted his head, looking at you with multiple layers of disgust. “But what I didn’t expect was him,” his words, soaked in venom. “Beomgyu.” You couldn’t respond—you couldn’t bring yourself to. The only thing running through your mind was he had been watching you.

“Disgusting,” he spat. “What can that low life give you? Money? Power?”

He stood, even more angry. “ I can give you an empire. All built in your name. What can he give you that I can't?!” he shouted.

“Love,” you said softly. “He gave me love, Dong-wook. All you fed me were obsessions and false beliefs.”

“I would’ve given you the world.”

“I didn’t want the world,” you said, voice steady. “I wanted to be seen. But you never saw me.”

His features hardened, “Let’s see how your little toy feels when his face hits the floor.”

Your expression faltered—and he smirked.

“He’ll meet the same fate as the girl,” he said coldly, holding up a folded paper between his fingers. “This is the fight list,” he said simply. “And I choose his next opponent. One of mine. I’ll make sure he won’t come out of that ring alive.”

“Don’t,” you warned, but your voice broke.

Dong-wook rose from his seat, leaning into your face, his breath sour with power. “A divine sacrifice,” he whispered. “Now wouldn’t that be poetic?”

You tried to step back but he immediately gripped your wrist. “Unless…” his voice laced with faux tenderness, “You come back to me.”

His other hand slowly wrapped around your throat. His cold fingers applied steady pressure. “Don’t make the same mistake twice, sweetheart.” His hand squeezed tighter, “Come back to me,” he whispered. “Be my queen.”

The world was spinning by the time you were shoved back into the main hallway, the blindfold once again covered your eyes, but now it was tighter—suffocating. You didn’t remember the turns again; you didn’t have the strength to. Even though your legs moved, your mind remained stuck there, trapped beneath Dong-wook’s gaze.

As the blindfold came off you saw Taehyun waiting for you, his eyes filled with worry.

“Hey,” he caught you before you could stumble. “Are you okay? What did their boss want with you?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You scanned the room, the only person on your mind was—

“Beomgyu,” you called out, your voice panicked and uneven. He was talking with Soobin near the bar but turned at the sound of your voice.

“Love...” he said softly, “Are you okay? What did the big guy want?”

“When’s your next fight?” you asked breathlessly, grabbing onto his arm.

“What?”

“When…” your voice cracked. “When’s your next fight?”

“In three days,” he said confused, his eyes scanned yours with worry. “...Why? Baby, what’s going on?”

Your breath hitched. “Three days…” you mumbled to yourself, the bile rising in your throat. That wasn’t enough time.

You let go of him, turning toward Taehyun, and held his wrist. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

Beomgyu called your name out, but you couldn’t look back. Not yet. Not until you found a way to save him.

The cold burned—your skin was on fire and your lungs felt as if they were filled with water. You crouched on the floor as the walls of the world seemed to close in around you.

“Hey,” Taehyun called out, crouching in front of you. His voice felt as if it was underwater. “Hey. Focus on my voice. Follow my breathing.” You looked up at him, tears in your eyes as you tried to match your breathing with his.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, picking you up. “Now tell me, what’s going on?”

You gave yourself a moment, taking a deep breath and regulated your thoughts.

“He’s going to kill him, Taehyun,” you whispered. “If I don’t stay with him Beomgyu dies.”

“Who?” Taehyun asked, his jaw tightened.

“Dong-wook.”

His name burned on your tongue—as if you were being force fed poison and finally had the courage to spit it out.

Taehyun froze. His eyes widened at your words. “What?” he asked. “How?”

“Money passed,” you said. “He took the time and rebuilt Golgotha. He baited us with the intel. All so that he can get me back.”

You looked at him terrified.

“He wants me to be his queen, Tae. I can’t do it. I don’t know what we can do, I have to save Beomgyu, I—”

Taehyun pulled you into a hug. “Listen to me,” he said, wiping the tears that fell from your eyes.

“Let me handle it. Do one last recording for today and give me all of them. Notes, footage, everything. All of it.”

“What?” you blinked through your tears. “What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it. The less you know, the better.”

“But why?” you asked.

“I lost my love,” he smiled sadly. “I won’t let you lose yours too. I promise.”

Today was D-Day, and quite frankly, you were terrified. You’d spent the last 3 days at Beomgyu’s side, clinging like it might be the last. He noticed, of course—the way your hands lingered just a little longer, how your eyes memorised the curve of his smile each time you kissed him. Whenever he brought up that night, you brushed it off.

“Just a tough matchup,” you’d say, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. And each time, he chose to believe you—whether it was trust or fear, you weren’t sure.

Golgotha was more alive than you’d ever seen it—almost bursting at the seams. The atmosphere was buzzed with energy and the haze of drugs consumed by the patrons. Their laughter silky rich, thick with anticipation for the night ahead. You knew the turnout was probably Dong-wook’s doing, a grand finale of sorts.

And maybe that was the most unsettling part—just the sheer number of powerful faces crowding the room, eyes eager on the altar for Dong-wook’s sacrifice.

“Heard Dong-wook is making an appearance tonight,” Taehyun muttered beside you, loud enough for only you to hear. “He’s really going all out for this.”

The only thing that was on your mind was Beomgyu—his eyes, his nose, his lips—his everything. You wanted to see him; you needed to see him. You didn’t know how this night was going to end, you just hoped Taehyun’s plan worked out after all.

“Hey sweetheart,” a voice called out to you.

Yeonjun.

You turned your expression neutral. “Yeonjun,” you said politely, “What can I do for you?”

“Still in love with Beomgyu?” he asked, smirking. “I’ll give you one last chance.”

Your eyes narrowed, “What are you going on about?”

He let out a soft laugh, “Back when I asked you to sponsor me. That was your chance.” Then he leaned in just enough for his breath to brush your ear. “Shame you chose the wrong side, and I always liked you too.”

He stepped back, smiling coldly. “But you chose the stray dog. And now I’m tasked with putting him down.”

You frowned, “You work under Dong-wook?”

Yeonjun’s eyes twinkled with amusement at your realization, “Last chance, sweetheart. Make things right.”

Your blood ran cold, “Fuck off Yeonjun.”

His smile dropped slightly, his eyes softened with something that didn’t quite look like pity, “See you at the altar, angel.”

You pushed through the crowd, trying your best to ignore Yeonjun’s words—but with each step the weight of them lingered. You really hoped that tonight didn’t end in bloodshed.

Beomgyu stood near the stage, the light casting a soft ethereal glow on him. His hair was slightly damp from his warm-up, his eyes lighting up the moment they found yours. And his smile—soft and warm—but this time, it broke you.

“Love,” he said, kissing you tenderly. “I’m so glad to see you.”

You couldn’t form the words to respond—not when he looked at you like that, not when you thought this would be your last. Your fingers brushed against the apples of his cheeks, savouring the warmth of his skin before pulling him into another kiss.

“Hey,” he whispered. “What’s gotten into you? You aren’t one to display affection like that.”

“Beomgyu,” you hesitated, “I need to tell you something.”

“Let’s talk later, okay?” he smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you too.”

“But Beomgyu, Yeonjun, he—”

“You tried to scare me these last few days!” he laughed, shaking his head. “I fought him before, babe. It’ll be fine.”

You shook your head desperately, but he didn’t pay you any mind.

“After this victory,” he said, "I'm treating you to dinner. Just you and me.”

He rested his forehead against yours, his voice soft, as he gazed into your eyes lovingly. “I love you,” he whispered as he kissed you again.

And for the first time, it didn’t feel like a gift-wrapped promise. It felt like an agonizing goodbye.

The gong rang once causing the atmosphere of Golgotha to shift—becoming colder as the host stepped forward. The crowd fell into hushed reverence, anxiously waiting for the commencement of the night’s event.

“Ladies and Gentlemen.” the host began, his voice smooth. “Tonight, we are blessed with the presence of The Anointed. He will deliver the greeting.”

As the host stepped aside, Dong-wook emerged, cloaked in dark crimson and black, his garments resembling a cassock warped by sin. His presence was domineering, magnetic—like a false god entering a temple.

“Dominus vobiscum,” he intoned, his voice deep and chilling.

The Lord be with you. What an odd way to begin a greeting, you thought.

The crowd answered as one, “Et cum spiritu tuo,” the response echoed through the room.

And with your spirit. Your skin crawled at the twisted devotion. The theatrics of it all were too much.

“We all have gathered here for the Final Act,” he declared, his eyes sweeping the room before settling on you, staring at your soul. “Their last performance reached into your depths—so a final act has been summoned.”

He smirked at you from the stage, the knowing glint in his eyes. “Let us bear witness to a divine sacrifice.”

He turned his gaze to Beomgyu and Yeonjun before continuing, “Upon this altar, one of these men shall rise as the Redeemer—”

A deliberate pause.

“ —and the other shall fall as the Sacrificial Lamb.

He outstretched his arms to the crowd like a preacher. “A lovely performance is among us.”

The gong rang a second time—feeling its vibration deep in your bones as the host and Dong-wook stepped back, marking the beginning of the final act.

Beomgyu stood across from Yeonjun, body taut with confidence and an unparalleled focus. He moved with precision and accuracy, an animalistic glint in his eyes as the patrons watched in anticipation. The tension was thick—it left you holding your breath, each movement in the ring made your heart race.

You felt horrible as you watched helplessly, anxiety taking over. Taehyun placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and for once it did nothing to quell your worries. Yeonjun’s ribs cracked under the impact of Beomgyu’s fist—a breathless, painful gasp escaped him as he staggered back, steadying himself for an attack.

The punch seemed to awaken something in Yeonjun as his eyes flashed with something darker—terrifying. Beomgyu’s gaze met yours for the briefest of moments, his lips moved with a familiar movement. “I love you,” he mouthed before he launched himself at Yeonjun again. Yeonjun’s speed increased, terrifyingly so as he dodged Beomgyu’s attacks—a speed that caught Beomgyu off guard. There was no stopping them, and that made you feel worse—knowing Beomgyu’s fate was sealed and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Beomgyu,” you whispered his name like a hushed prayer, hoping to a God that was already dead. His chest rose and fell with a rhythm, his cheek slightly bruised from a punch Yeonjun landed on him as he tried to gain his balance. Yeonjun knew no remorse—striking again, but this time he reached into his pocket, a faint glint of steel caught your eye. A flash of silver. A knife.

You couldn't shout, couldn't scream, couldn't warn your love of the consequences he was about to reap. And it was as if time stood still—only the sickening sound of the blade piercing Beomgyu’s side was heard. Beomgyu staggered back, his hands instinctively clutching his side as blood seeped through his clothes, staining the white fabric of his shirt. He faltered as his faced etched in pain and surprise.

The patrons gasped in surprise, watching in awe as his blood slowly dripped to the floor. And Yeonjun had a crazed look in his eyes—a deranged smile as he got closer to Beomgyu.

“No,” you whispered, pushing forward, only to be stopped by Taehyun’s firm grip on your arm.

“Not yet,” Taehyun warned. His eyes were locked on Beomgyu, “It’s not over.” His voice was calm, too calm, as if he knew something you didn’t.

You heard him murmur something under his breath—barely audible to you, but your mind was too cloudy to make out the words.

Just as Yeonjun prepared to strike again, a deafening crash resounded—the door of Golgotha slammed open and the SMPA stormed in. The patrons gasped, some screamed, and others tried to escape in fear, but it was no use, the SMPA had already blocked all possible exits.

“This is the SMPA! Everyone in this room is under arrest. You are all under suspicion of partaking in illegal activity. Please comply with the authorities.”

You didn’t pay attention to the officer’s words after that—forcing yourself out of Taehyun’s grip and rushing to Beomgyu’s side, kneeling beside him, one hand trembling as you cupped his face and the other desperately placing pressure on the wound.

“Beomgyu,” you whispered as tears streamed down your face, “please, stay with me.”

He chuckled painfully, “No wonder you were worried. It’s as if you had a prenotion of what was about to happen.”

“You shouldn’t talk,” you sobbed. “Just focus on your breathing.”

“I love you,” he breathed in painfully. “So much. More than you’ll ever know.”

The ground beneath you trembled as more SMPA officers descended making their way to the stage. One of them moved toward Yeonjun and cuffed him in one fluid motion, another advancing on Beomgyu. You tried to hold onto him helplessly as they pulled you away.

“Please,” you begged, desperation thick in your voice. “Please help him…”

But the officers didn’t hear you. All that remained was the weight of the cuffs, their cold steel biting into your wrists—a suffocating sense of agony was all that persisted.

This was Golgotha. A place where salvation was never meant to exist.

The office was cold, at least that’s what Taehyun’s mind told him—perhaps it was playing tricks on him. Laid across the table was a recorder—your recorder, your footage—everything. All the work you did for the past 310 days, everything that led him there.

Taehyun subconsciously held your recorder in his hand, brushing his finger along the edges, hoping it would bring you closer to him. The weight of the situation had finally dawned on him with your past rearing its ugly head, Taehyun knew that everything he was doing right now was for you.

Every cell in his body screamed—screamed that this was the only way for you to truly put that part of you behind closed doors. And even though you’d never love him in the end, Taehyun didn’t mind because your presence taught him how to love, and for now, that was enough.

The door behind him creaked open, pulling him from his thoughts—Kai, a long-time friend and seasoned tactical officer of the SMPA entered. Kai’s reputation for leading high-risk operations preceded him. A selfish thought crossed Taehyun’s mind; had Kai been involved in Dong-wook’s takedown years ago maybe things would’ve been different, maybe you wouldn’t have met Beomgyu and maybe you would've—

No. Taehyun shook the thought away. There were just some things that were just not meant to be.

Kai smiled at Taehyun for a moment before his face turned serious as a wooden judge. “Taehyun, you ready?” he asked.

Taehyun glanced up, locking eyes with him before nodding with assurance. “Let’s do this.”

It felt like an eternity, sifting through evidence, listening to your voice echo off the walls of the room before it finally dawned on them. There was no safe way out of this.

“We can’t use any of the evidence,” Kai sighed frustratedly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but you didn’t have authorization to gather it. It’s inadmissible in court.”

Taehyun rubbed his temples, feeling a headache creeping in.

“Sorry man,” Kai continued. “Even if I wanted to, Dong-wook’s attorney would almost exercise the exclusionary rule. You know how this works. I don't want us or the team to face legal consequences for using evidence that was technically illegally obtained.”

Taehyun’s shoulders sagged as he huffed in irritation. The evidence you worked so hard for—now rendered useless in a matter of seconds.

“Then what the hell can we do?” Taehyun asked with a bite in his voice.

Kai looked him in the eye for a moment. “I know this isn't ideal, but Beomgyu has to get attacked before we can invade.”

Taehyun's heart dropped. “Is there really no other way?”

Kai shook his head, “I know it’s brutal but without legal evidence, this is the only option. But we can give you a discreet earpiece. The moment Beomgyu is stabbed, you give us the go-ahead. You’re our eyes. You’ll signal us once the moment comes.”

Taehyun didn’t speak for a moment—his mind wandered to you, knowing the way you’ll protest at the idea, begging them to find an alternative way.

Kai nodded then said your name softly. “What about her, why isn’t she here to hear the plan? She was a big part of this too.”

“She doesn’t need to know,” Taehyun said quickly—too quickly. “We thought it was best for her to not be involved. To make the entire thing more believable, at least.”

Kai's eyes narrowed at Taehyun, “You weren’t even sure what was going to be done, Taehyun.” Kai continued after a beat. “She’s not emotionally compromised, right? She isn’t involved with Beomgyu or worse, Yeonjun, right?”

Taehyun dismissed it quickly, though his voice lacked the usual confidence. “No, we’re good. We’re just being extra careful. The last incident with Dong-wook is still fresh in her mind—especially with his involvement in this as well.”

Kai hesitated, eyeing Taehyun closely. Then after a long beat, he nodded slowly, “If you say so. But Taehyun, listen to me, if things go south, you need to be sure she’s safe.”

“Always.”

Kai stared at him for a moment longer before leaving the room and returning moments later with the earpiece. It felt heavy— the weight of responsibility in Taehyun’s hand.

“We have one chance at this,” Kai said seriously. “Let’s not mess this up.”

The world felt unreal.

Looking back at the life you lead, you never thought you'd be here in this moment—handcuffs biting into your wrist, adrenaline surging with nothing but pure agony. As the officer began dragging you away, Taehyun stepped forward, his voice too calm for the moment at hand.

“Officer, she’s with me.”

The officer asked, surprised. “Oh, you’re the partner they mentioned?” He unlocked your cuffs without hesitation. “Sorry about that! Your acting was good, you seemed genuinely distraught. You rubbed your wrists, but relief never came. Acting? You thought, confusion clouding your mind.

“Uh…thanks?” your voice shaky as you struggled to stay focused.

Then the officer who detained Beomgyu approached.

The sight of him stole a breath from your lungs—pale, bleeding—his breath ragged as he barely held himself upright.

“Do you know this man, ma’am?” the officer asked, his gaze locking onto you.

You didn’t know what to do. Admit to knowing and possibly be charged with failure to report a crime or deny the allegation and pretend you didn't know him at all? All the possibilities ran through your head and unfortunately, fear won.

“I…I don’t,” you hesitated, a lump forming in your throat.

The officer’s gaze shifted between you and Beomgyu, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face. “You don’t know him?” he asked again, his voice sharp, as if he was waiting for your admittance.

“No,” you said, blinking back tears. “I don’t.”

“Are you absolutely certain?” he challenged.

“Yes,” you said, sharper this time, glaring at him. “I was just part of the investigating team with Taehyun. I have nothing to do with him. You’re doing nothing but delaying the help he needs. He’s bleeding. Hurry up.”

The officer seemed taken aback by your forceful tone, but after a brief pause, he nodded. “Very well.”

The moment the thirst denial slipped from your lips, your ears rang—the ringing—sharp and unforgiving. The sound was deafening, ruthless, a relentless force you couldn't escape. Beomgyu’s eyes were the only thing carved into your mind—dark and wounded—your denial cutting deeper than the blood spilling from his wound.

All this time, you believed you were suppressing the Judas within you—avoiding betrayal for thirty measly pieces of silver. But you were never him. No, you were Peter—denying him to protect yourself—denying your love when he needed you most.

And now, in the wake of your lie, you weren't sure if that made you a coward or a traitor.

Dong-wook’s voice shattered the silence.

“All that for a fucking stray dog?” he snarled, his body thrashing against the officers that held him back. His voice was venom itself and his eyes burned into you, full of scorn—hatred.

He let out a laugh, bitter and full of disbelief. “I can’t believe you did this shit again. Really?” You didn’t respond—you couldn’t.

“I hope your fucking dog bleeds to death,” he spat. “I should’ve killed you. I hope you fucking bleed out too. It’s what you deserve.”

Everything felt as if it was crashing down on you—his words chipping away at the last bits of sanity you had left. The guilt you felt didn’t suffocate you; it consumed you, his words echoing louder the further he was dragged away.

Bleed. Bleed out. Just like you deserve.

“Hey,” Taehyun’s voice broke through the haze. His expression softened, but the concern in his eyes lingered, “You okay?”

You looked at him, tears welling in your eyes. “Okay?” your voice cracked, hoarse and raw. “Beomgyu was stabbed, Taehyun. Of course, I’m not okay.”

Slowly, the crowd in Golgotha dissipated but the tension still hung heavy in the air. You should be happy with the way things turned out to be, but as you remember the way his breath slipped through your fingertips all that remained was the hollow echo of the man you loved most. You followed Taehyun without thinking—legs heavy and mind numb—every step felt like you were being dragged further into the abyss of unforgiveness.

“Hey, Taehyun!” a voice called out. Without a word, Taehyun took off a sleek, discreet earpiece and handed it to the man.

“Here,” Taehyun said smoothly, “Thanks for all the help, Kai. I really appreciate it.”

Kai accepted the earpiece with a slight nod. “It’s not a problem,” he replied, his tone light. “I’m just glad the entire operation went smoothly.”

He turned his gaze to you, his eyes softening with a quiet understanding. “Good job out there,” Kai said, his voice warm. “And thank you for all the evidence you gathered. We can’t use it legally, but our team can get a warrant to bring in proper evidence. You’ve done enough. Get some rest.”

You nodded, but the words felt distant—hollow. No part of you believed you were deserving of any praise. Not when you failed and let go of the man who needed you most. “Will he be okay?” you managed to ask.

Kai looked at you, his expression heavy with pity. “He’ll be okay,” his voice steady. “ I’ll make sure of it.”

The cold air seemed to be the only thing that gave you some semblance of feeling that evening as you left Golgotha. Standing in the car park one last time felt surreal—surreal knowing that this was the end of everything.

“I'm sorry,” Taehyun whispered. “There was no other way to save him.”

“You could’ve still told me, Taehyun,” you whispered. “I may be emotionally involved but I’m not fucking stupid.”

You wanted to scream—cry—to shake him until he understood the pain that blossomed in your chest. But nothing you would've done would change anything. And that was the shittiest part.

“I think he should've known. At least then he could've minimized the damage.”

“I just wanted to protect you,” Taehyun said softly.

“And I just wanted to protect Beomgyu,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. “ I guess we both didn’t get what we wanted.”

Taehyun opened his mouth as if to say something, anything to ease the tension between you, but the words never came. You didn’t want his words—not when you were so torn, conflicted.

“God…” you whispered, “I’m such a fucking coward.” The admission stung but you made your choice. Denying knowing Beomgyu, a truth that hit you in the gut.

“Hey…” Taehyun said softly. “You’re human. That fear you felt? It’s valid. This is law enforcement we’re dealing with. You have to protect yourself too.”

You shook your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You saw his face when I said it, Taehyun. I can’t help but hate myself for being the cause of that look. He was so broken.”

Taehyun remained silent for a moment before his lips parted again.

“Then, hate me.”

You blinked, confused. “What?” you whispered, “Why would you want me to hate you?”

“Because despite your relationship with Beomgyu. I still selfishly love you,” he admitted. “And that's all I have left to offer you. Hate me, if it helps you. Get the feelings out. You need to keep yourself together, for you, for Beomgyu. As much as I hate to admit it, that’s the only thing I can give you now.”

No matter how angry you felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate Taehyun—not when he loved you so unconditionally, even without reciprocation. The weight of everything still crushed you, but in that moment something small shifted inside you. You couldn't afford to let yourself get back in this space, not for you, not for Beomgyu. The hollow space that was once your heart was filled with hope—hope for Beomgyu, that he could forgive you despite everything. Any maybe, just maybe there was some hope that you could forgive yourself too.

Act 5 || The Weight of Tomorrow

Beomgyu had lost track of how many weeks had passed, each day bled into the next, forming a never-ending loop. The sterile beige walls of the detention centre were all he saw—blank, lifeless, monotonous— and if that didn’t send him mad, then he would himself. The physical pain after the surgery had long since faded, instead replaced by something far worse—a gnawing emptiness in his chest that refused to go away. That was the real torment, and it was you.

You were the only thing on his mind, were you okay? Were you happy? And the most important one, were you safe?

The nights were the worst part—that’s when your voice got louder, echoing in the back of his mind, sweet and sharp like a blade. It was haunting. Too many times Beomgyu lay awake staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster, wondering if you were sleeping soundly or if you were haunted like him.

Despite everything that happened, there was no way Beomgyu could have hated you—sure, he was disappointed with the way things turned out and yes you lied about your identity, but that didn't change the fact that you were the same person he loved. Beomgyu knew he could never stop loving you, regardless of what Soobin told him when he visited—his love for you was a boundless ocean and he just hoped that your love was the same for him.

He was sitting in the visitor’s room now, confused. Soobin wasn't supposed to visit for a few more days and Beomgyu had no one else—well, except you. And you know how that story goes.

“Beomgyu,” Taehyun’s cold voice said as he entered. He didn’t sit, opting instead to stand rigidly by the glass separator, barely sparing him a glance.

Beomgyu’s brows furrowed, “Taehyun? What are you doing here?”

Taehyun looked around the small room in disgust, almost as if it had offended him to be there. He shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable. “This place doesn’t suit you,” he muttered, avoiding Beomgyu’s gaze. “But I guess Golgotha didn’t either.”

Beomgyu blinked. Unsure if his words were laced with sympathy… or just pity.

Taehyun cleared his throat. “We got you a lawyer. A good one. They got your case pushed forward. The hearing’s next week, so if you get lucky you might get out soon.”

Beomgyu’s heart raced. The news was great, but something still gnawed at him, something far more urgent—you. Where were you? Why weren’t you here? Were you afraid? Or worse, did you no longer love him? The uncertainty clawed at his insides.

“I— I mean, that's great. Thank you, Taehyun,” Beomgyu said, his voice shaky. But a more important question burned at his lips. “But you don’t exactly like me. So why are you doing this… and what about—”

“This isn’t out of my own goodwill,” he interrupted coldly, folding his arms across his chest. His eyes softened subtly before he said your name only in a way love can. “She’s the one who made me come tell you about the lawyer. That, and well, she doesn’t want to see you.”

Beomgyu’s breath caught in his throat. “...What?”

Taehyun’s gaze softened briefly before the walls were put up once more. “It’s not because she hates you. She just…thinks you hate her after everything. Thinks you’re better off without her.”

“No,” Beomgyu whispered, his hand hitting the glass separator. She thinks I hate her?”

His voice cracked. “I don’t. God, even if I tried, I couldn’t. She's the air I breathe. Please, Taehyun. I need to see her. I can’t live without her,” he begged, desperate.

Taehyun’s expression flickered for a moment, as if he wanted to say something but he closed his mouth without muttering another word. Slowly making his way toward the door, his pace slow and deliberate.

“Please,” Beomgyu said softer, his voice barely a whisper as he tried to grip the glass. “Tell her I still love her. I don't care about what happened. I just need her here.”

Taehyun’s gaze flickered to him for a split second, his eyes unreadable, “...I’ll see what I can do. But I can’t make any promises.”

“Thank you,” Beomgyu said, his voice was low but sincere.

Taehyun hesitated just before leaving, his back still turned. “I’m not doing this for you,” Taehyun said flatly, his voice colder than before. “I’m doing this because I know she can’t live without you.”

Beomgyu’s chest tightened, the weight of Taehyun’s words sinking deep. As Taehyun left, Beomgyu sank into the chair, the emptiness in his chest was a little heavier now. He closed his eyes, his breath shallow as he prayed—prayed to a God that he didn’t believe in that you would come back. Even if it would be the last time, he prayed for you to come back.

The drive to the detention center felt like a blur—the anxiety gnawed at your insides, eating you alive as your hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from the tension. It had been over a month since you last saw Beomgyu, and his face from that day seemed to be the only thing that replayed.

You hated the way the nightmare played out the same every single time. The two of you were in his bed, sharing a moment before the world collapsed and you were transported back to Golgotha. The way his face warped with hurt and pain as the denial rushed past your lips was forever engraved in your mind as if it were a branding.

Then you fall. And it seems endless, the deep kind—the one that makes your legs feel like jelly. That is until you land in a pool of blood—his and hers—mixed. The last thing that always haunts you is Dong-wook’s voice, cold and merciless, so full of hate.

Bleed. It's what you deserve.

Then you wake up—sobbing, drenched in sweat, praying to a God that was already dead to end the torment, to end the pain.

You barely remembered the check-in process, only recalling the way your hands trembled as you signed the visitor’s log and handed over your ID—ignoring the way officers looked at you with either pity or disgust almost as if you were a criminal yourself.

Each second you waited felt like an eternity, the ticking of the clock slowly being your painful demise. So many questions ran through your mind; Did he hate you? Was he okay? Would he even still love you, the real you? Your fingers tightened around your wrist as you fought the urge to run—to act as if you weren't there in the first place.

“Visitor for Choi Beomgyu, you’re up.”

Your heart dropped as you followed the officer—feeling more vulnerable with each step you took. The closer you were, the tighter your chest became. You nearly turned around twice but your feet were adamant, dragging you forward as if it knew something your brain didn’t.

The grip of your fingers hurt. Beomgyu was finally going to see the real you. There was nothing to hide behind now. Not here, not anywhere. This was no longer Golgotha.

“You have 30 minutes,” the officer said coldly. “Make the most of it.”

You swallowed hard, nodding without a word, your heart stopping as your eyes met his. Behind the thick glass partition, he was still him—still your Beomgyu. He was thinner than you remembered, his features more drawn but his eyes—those warm eyes of his remained the same, so full of love, everything you could have dreamt of.

“Beomgyu…” you whispered, your throat tightening at the mere sound of his name.

His eyes glistened slightly as he watched you, “Baby…” he said softly. “You came.” He leaned forward, his hand resting on the glass as he tried to get close to you.

The nickname simultaneously wounded and soothed your heart, all at the same time.

“What happened?” he asked. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tears welled in your eyes before you could even stop them, your heart breaking for the man you still loved so much. “I wanted to,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “ I really did, but I didn’t know what to do. And Taehyun…he was the one who had the entire plan. I’m sorry.”

“I just wished he decided to cooperate with me,” he sighed. “Would’ve made things easier.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, “I’m sorry I denied knowing you. I was scared and I didn’t know what to do.”

Beomgyu's eyes softened, “It’s okay. It hurt at first, but I get why you did it. You were scared and you’re human. It’s your default that you protect yourself.”

“Still,” you cried softly, “I still lied to you, Beomgyu. I betrayed you.”

“Love isn’t always perfect,” he said quietly. “It’s about being real and despite everything you were always real with me. I don’t care about the mask you wore. I care about who you are underneath it all.”

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to break down completely. “I never meant to hurt you. I truly just wanted to keep you safe.”

“And you did,” Beomgyu reassured. “This is just a tiny detour and that's okay. I just need you to know that I still love you, all of you.”

The anxiety, the guilt, the fear; still lingered, but something began to take root inside you—a tiny, fragile seed of hope. Seeing the way Beomgyu remained unchanged, loving you the very same made all the difference.

Your eyes flicked at the timer. Ten minutes.

“We don’t have much time left,” Beomgyu said softly before he smiled a bit wider. “Hi, my name’s Beomgyu, I was an underground boxer and I’m desperately in love with you.”

You laughed softly, wiping away your tears, the sound a mix of relief and disbelief. You said your name softly. “I’m an investigative journalist and I’m desperately in love with you too.”

And for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

The detention center had become your new normal. Every week, you went through the same process, signing in, waiting, and then walking down the cold corridor to the visiting room. Each time you saw Beomgyu, you slowly got to know each other again—not some persona, just raw, genuine persons in love with one another.

Some days were quiet, filled with tear-stained faces and heartfelt apologies. Others, laughter, to the point where the officer complained about it being a disturbance. You talked about your dreams, your bad habits—you without various masks on, the you behind closed doors.

Sometimes Soobin accompanied you after Beomgyu mentioned your visits. At first, he wasn’t keen on the idea, your persona in Golgotha was still fresh in his mind. But as the weeks passed, he saw the real you, and eventually a tiny friendship formed. It was still awkward—no surprise there—but you were both trying. And for now, that was enough.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence one afternoon, your voice broke the stillness, sounding more serious than usual. “You know I can’t act as a witness for you against Kwang-soo right?” you said quietly, meeting his gaze.

Beomgyu blinked, confusion flickering across his face. “What? Why?”

“Because it can be used against you in court since she’s too emotionally involved with you,” Soobin interjected beside you. “Kwang-soo’s lawyer will destroy any credibility she has in court. Will just make things worse for you.”

You nodded. “He’s right,” you said. “Sorry, I can’t do more, Gyu.”

“It’s no big deal.” Beomgyu’s brows furrowed. “But what about Dong-wook?” his tone serious. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Are you going to testify against him? Considering the intricacies of your past relationship, would it still be considered biased… but in a negative way?”

You winced at the question, your heart raced as you remembered your last interaction with him. “Yeah,” you said dejectedly, rubbing your temples. “I don’t have a choice then though.” You ran your hand through your hair, trying to push the thoughts of him aside. “There was never a court ruling for the last incident with him and someone has to testify on behalf of the girls. None of them want to, they’re too afraid.”

“That’s nice of you though,” Soobin said, gazing at you. “To fight for them even though it makes it disadvantageous for you.”

“It’s the least I can do for them.”

You felt the weight of your decision settling over you as the days passed—nerves gnawing at you as the court date loomed over you like a shadow. It wasn’t the thought of facing Dong-wook again that terrified you—it was the sheer weight of his influence, the way he had always been able to hurt so many people and get away with it.

The trial day arrived quicker than you had imagined, and honestly, most of it felt like a blur. You didn’t say it out loud, but the idea of being in the same room as Dong-wook again made you sick. His voice never stopped echoing in your nightmares, angry and bitter at your final decisions. As much as you hated to admit it, he still owned a small part of you—the part once manipulated by the words, the part that once believed he could be saved.

But now, you only wanted closure. You wanted peace.

You had rehearsed your lines, packed the certified documents Kai gave you to testify—photos, phone records, everything that tied him directly to all his underground operations. You were prepared to refute every claim yet some part of you wasn’t ready for the way Dong-wook’s cold eyes would follow you.

Outside the courthouse was swarmed with the press and fans, eagerly waiting for the verdict. Inside, the air was thick—a suffocating coldness prevailed filled with a mix of individuals; those who loved Dong-wook and others who hated him. You were thankful that amidst the nervousness eating away at you, Taehyun and Soobin had accompanied you, their presence being the silent support you needed.

You barely remembered testifying. The moment you entered the witness stand, your responses were automatic, as though your body had gone into autopilot, recounting every painful detail and presenting all the evidence. No matter how much his lawyer tried to strike you down and refute your claims, it was no use. You didn't back down and the truth was out, and Dong-wook would finally get the treatment he deserved.

“The verdict has been determined,” the judge’s cold voice rang out, slicing through the tense silence. “Lee Dong-wook, you have been found guilty on charges of murder to the second degree, sex trafficking, exploitation, and racketeering. You are hereby sentenced to life in prison on all counts.”

You couldn't remember exactly what happened afterward—only the sensation of Taehyun and Soobin enveloping you in a tight hug, their warmth a stark contrast to the coldness you felt inside. But the only thing that clung to your mind were the last words Dong-wook had whispered to you.

“It’s not over,” he had said, his voice icy with hatred. “Don’t underestimate my influence. I hope that stray dog can protect you.”

The court case might have been over, but the battle wasn’t completely won. You had fought for the girls, exposed the truth, and for now, justice was served. Now you had to try your best to leave Dong-wook’s influence on you in the past, to keep that door shut and locked—no matter how many times his words crept up on you. You finally had the time to focus on you.

The courtroom’s heavy silence hung in the air long after Dong-wook was led out, but your thoughts were already shifting. The fight wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. Beomgyu’s trial was next and while his circumstances were far different, you still held onto the hope that somehow justice would be served.

Like Dong-wook’s hearing, there was a vast amount of media coverage for Beomgyu’s. Thanks to your article Golgotha: Life From An Outsider’s Eyes, Beomgyu had the public’s sympathy on his side—the abused fighter rather than the criminal mastermind. He was no longer seen as a ruthless participant, but now a boy who just wanted to make a living. You just hoped that your words would be able to make a difference.

You watched the judge—her expression unreadable as she shifted through the last pages of her ruling. Despite the murmurs and the shuffle of papers filling the space around you—everything felt still, quiet. Beomgyu was beside you, his warmth doing little to ease your comfort. The silence was deafening. His hand tightened around yours and your heart raced.

“The verdict is in.”

This was it—this was either going to be the beginning or the end.

“Choi Beomgyu, while your involvement in the underground operations was undeniable, the court acknowledges the circumstances of your exploitation under Park Kwang-soo. Due to the overwhelming evidence of coercion, the public’s support, and your efforts to minimize illegal involvements given your condition, you are hereby sentenced to one year of probation and community service with counselling.”

Relief crashed into you like a tsunami, drowning out the noise of the courtroom around you. For a moment, everything felt distant—the people, the cameras, the world beyond this room—it all faded away leaving just you and Beomgyu. His eyes were wide and they met yours, his face frozen as if he hadn’t quite processed the news.

He was free.

Free to live the life he deserved, without the looming shadow of the ring, without anyone pulling at his strings. Just free.

Before anyone could speak, Beomgyu turned to you, his face softening into an expression of pure gratitude and love. He didn’t wait—he couldn’t—with a tenderness that made your heart race, he cupped your face gently and with the weight of everything finally lifting off his shoulders, he kissed you, right there in front of everyone.

The world faded back in with the clattering of the judge’s gravel as she moved on to Kwang-soo’s verdict, but you no longer cared. There was no more pain, no more uncertainty.

“Thank you,” he whispered as he pulled back, his voice thick with emotion. “For loving and believing in me.”

It wasn’t just a kiss of celebration—it was a kiss of freedom—a testament to everything you had been through, everything you had fought for. A kiss to seal the end of one chapter and the start of another. Finally, the future was yours to shape—together.

Who knew a year would pass by so fast when you’re in love? Days that were once heavy with guilt and dread had now transformed into something brighter, sturdier—real.

Beomgyu was no longer bound by probation and was free of the chains of Golgotha. He had successfully built a new life for himself—one rooted in hope and purpose. His new boxing ring and gym gained a lot of traction from the youth and became a dedicated space to teach kids the proper ways to defend themselves—to become strong and resilient in a world that tried to tear them down. Beomgyu’s success was undeniable, creating the sanctuary he had always dreamed of.

You followed a similar path, deciding to step away from the world of investigative journalism to pursue a quiet, simpler life—one offering a different kind of thrill for you to experience. Your cafe strived alongside Beomgyu’s gym, and the popularity of your story was still present to this day. The cafe and gym became a cornerstone of the neighbourhood—your personal testament to growth.

Together you moved in—not into a house, but a home—one filled with different aspects of yourselves, creating a safe haven of happiness and bliss, one you enjoyed together. Taehyun and Soobin always spent time with you too—your friendship with Taehyun had been restored and your friendship with Soobin managed to blossom even more.

As the last customers trickled out of the cafe that evening, the scent of fresh coffee still lingered in the air as you cleaned up. You glanced over at Beomgyu who came in moments before, his gaze unwavering as he made slow, deliberate movements towards you. You wiped your hands on your clothes, your heart full with the typical giddiness Bromgyu’s presence had on you.

“I’ve been thinking,” Beomgyu started, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence.

Your eyes shone with mischief. “About what? It’s dangerous when you think.” You teased.

Beomgyu smiled at you gently before his face turned serious. “About us, what we’ve been through. I’ve made my mistakes and you’ve made yours.” He continued, stepping closer to you until there was no space left between you, “But I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life than I am now, in this moment.”

The tenderness of his words washed over you as nervousness of what may be happening crept up on you.

“I can only see my future with you. Not just today or tomorrow, but forever. So…” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. You froze and he dropped to one knee, holding your hand as your breath caught in your throat. “My soul had become bound with yours. Will you marry me?”

The box flipped open revealing a simple yet elegant silver band, the diamond catching the light from the cafe. You couldn't believe that this was happening. The man who had fought for his freedom, who had rebuilt himself, the man who loved you despite it all wanted to build a future with you. Your eyes swam with tears—those of disbelief, those of joy, those of relief.

“You don’t have to ask,” you whispered, your voice heavy with emotion. “Of course, Beomgyu. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He grinned, relief flooding his features as he stood up, carefully sliding the ring onto your finger. His hands shook just slightly, this one gesture changing everything for you both. “I can’t wait for this new chapter to start with you,” he whispered, the tremor present in his voice. “This is for us and our new future together.”

You smiled through your tears and he kissed you, thankful that all the pain was worth it. You both knew that this new journey wouldn’t always be easy, but together you would conquer the challenges life would inevitably throw at you.

As you gazed at the new ring on your finger, you were reminded of his promise. The ring wasn’t just a symbol of your love—it was a symbol of everything you had overcome. A promise of what was to come, a future that belonged to you. It represented the start of a new journey, another chapter in your story.

And for the first time, you were no longer Peter, Judas, or even Eve—you were just you. And you were exactly where you wanted to be.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✦ adeline's ending ✉︎ 𖹭.ᐟ - If you've made it to the end, thank you so much for reading! It means the world to me that you read it. I'd love to know which moments were your favourite(❁´◡`❁)

special taglist⭑.ᐟ - @filmsbyun, @dawngyu

permanent taglist⭑.ᐟ - @izzyy-stuff, @just-nc-tea, @flowerkeu

taglist⭑.ᐟ - @filmnings, @demidelulu, @neobeomjii @ramdomheyl, @melmochii, @mwahvvis, @beomiracles, @i-am-not-dal, @immelissaaa, @orangyuuuu, @fatbixchwithanopinion, @fancypeacepersona

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cbeargyu · 2 months ago

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I was thinking about arranged married with Taehyun, he doesnt love you but still feels jealous when you're hanging out with your guy friend? 👀

the weight of silk and silence

summary: you married him for business, not love. taehyun didn’t want a wife, and you didn’t ask for his heart. but when an old flame reappears and stirs forgotten feelings in you, taehyun begins to see you in ways he never allowed himself to before.

pairing: husband!taehyun x wife!reader

genre: arranged marriage au, angst, slowburn, eventual smut

warnings: explicit content (at the end), virgin!reader, possessive behavior, jealousy, emotional tension, marriage without love, slowburn pacing, soft domination.

wc: 7,5k

notes: omg anon i LOVED that idea, it’s so heartbreaking but delicious by the end 😭 i really hope you like it — taehyun fits this trope so well, and like… we all know he’d be insanely jealous LMAO 🖤

the first time you ever held kang taehyun’s hand was in front of five hundred guests, under a crystal chandelier that cost more than your first car.

it was your wedding day.

you had met him a handful of times before — quick, shallow meetings at galas and charity events, where your parents would whisper his name in your ear like a warning. taehyun, heir to a massive corporation. taehyun, quiet and serious. taehyun, the boy who would be your husband.

and yet, in all those encounters, he never truly looked at you. not in the way a man looks at a woman he wants. you were background noise to him. a silhouette in silk. polite smiles, brief nods, nothing more.

until the contract was signed.

it was a merger more than a marriage — a binding of legacies, not hearts. your father said it was an honor. your mother cried while helping you into your wedding dress, whispering how lucky you were to marry someone with such influence, such presence. you didn't feel lucky.

your gown was custom-made, flown in from paris. long-sleeved and ivory, with delicate lace crawling up your collarbones, and a train so long it took three women to carry it down the aisle. you looked like a dream — regal, immaculate, almost untouchable. even your makeup was soft and flawless, like you were born to be admired from a distance.

when you reached the altar, taehyun was already waiting. his eyes swept over you with the indifference of a man examining a sculpture in a gallery — beautiful, yes. admirable, even. but not his. not something he reached for. he looked expensive in his suit. tall, composed, painfully handsome. but there was no joy on his face. no warmth in the way he took your hand.

when he took your hand, it was because the priest told him to.

his palm was cold. steady. his grip was neither too firm nor too soft. you imagined it was the same way he signed business contracts, with precision and detachment.

you told yourself you didn’t need warmth. this wasn’t about love. it never was.

and yet it hurt, in some small, stupid way.

he kissed your cheek when the priest told him to. his lips brushed your skin, and you felt nothing. not butterflies, not electricity. just the cold, aching confirmation of what you already knew: taehyun didn’t love you. and he didn’t want to.

the wedding made headlines. a spectacle of elegance and power. articles praised the "fairytale union" and posted blurry photos of taehyun helping you into the car, his hand on your back like a gentleman. what they didn’t know was that by the time you arrived at the private estate where you’d live together, he was already walking ahead of you, phone in hand, voice low and disinterested.

“you’ll have the west wing,” he said. “second floor. we won’t share a room — i assume that’s fine”

you nodded. your veil was still pinned in your hair, your earrings heavy on your ears.

he didn’t say goodnight. he didn’t ask how you felt. he simply turned and disappeared into his study, closing the door behind him with finality.

his room was on the opposite side of the house.

you didn’t see much of each other after that. in the mornings, you passed him in the dining room — his sleeves rolled up, eyes glued to his laptop as he sipped black coffee. sometimes he nodded at you. sometimes he didn’t.

when he spoke, it was brief. emotionless. professional.

"you’ll need to be at the choi event next week."

"wear something navy. it matches the branding."

"your lipstick was smudged last time. be more careful."

not cruel. not kind. just cold.

still, you played your part. at every family function, every business dinner, you laced your arm around his like the doting wife you were supposed to be. taehyun would place his hand on your lower back, lean in close enough to whisper scripted compliments in your ear, and smile when cameras flashed. you looked like a couple in love — poised, elegant, connected.

but at night, you would close the door to your room and cry silently into a pillow that smelled like perfume and loneliness.

he never asked if you were happy. you never offered to lie.

you had been married to kang taehyun for a year.

twelve months of empty rooms and empty words. of silent mornings, separate beds, and dinner parties where you pretended to love a man who barely remembered how to say your name without flattening it.

your marriage was the kind that looked good in photographs. carefully curated images of a successful union — him in tailored suits, you in designer gowns. your hands always touching, your eyes always soft. a perfect illusion.

but once the flashbulbs faded and the doors closed, so did the performance.

you lived in a mansion, but it never felt like a home. it was quiet in a way that echoed. too many walls, too many shadows. your bedroom was at the far end of the hall, separated by sleek marble floors and silence. taehyun’s was opposite yours, and he never crossed that threshold. not even once.

some nights, you stood by the door and waited. hoping. other nights, you stopped hoping altogether.

he wasn't cruel — not in the way that left bruises or sharp words. his coldness was quieter than that. it was in the way he never asked if you were okay. in the way he answered you with sighs instead of sentences. in how he looked past you at breakfast, eyes on his phone, fingers tapping away at stock reports and news articles, as if you were part of the background — as if your presence was nothing more than ambient noise.

“you need to be ready by seven,” he’d say without looking up.

“don’t wear white. it clashes with the decor.”

and you would nod. always nod. because what else was there to do?

you played the part. you smiled when your in-laws visited. you stood beside him at every event with your hand wrapped gently around his arm, your voice sweet, your gaze rehearsed. when his hand slid onto the small of your back for the cameras, you leaned into the touch as if it belonged there.

but the second you were alone, the warmth disappeared.

you would walk down opposite corridors, into opposite beds, and try to fall asleep beside the ache of being unwanted.

you never asked him why. never begged for attention or tenderness. you had learned, from a very young age, that feelings were fragile, disposable things — and that love had no place in contracts.

your marriage was not a love story. it was a transaction sealed with gold and paper, a deal between two families who saw you as an extension of their legacy. you were beautiful, accomplished, poised — a perfect bride. and taehyun was a perfect son. loyal, brilliant, emotionally vacant. the kind of man who could run an empire and feel nothing when he held your hand.

and you —

you were so good at pretending that it almost felt real sometimes.

until you saw lee heesung again.

the invitation arrived embossed in gold — another affair hosted by the choi family, all shimmer and status. you wore emerald silk that night, low-backed and elegant, with your hair twisted up and pinned with mother-of-pearl. taehyun wore black, as always, his presence severe and pristine beside you.

he didn’t compliment your dress.

you didn’t expect him to.

the ballroom was all crystal and candlelight. strings played softly beneath the murmur of conversation, and champagne flutes clinked like bells. you smiled when expected, danced twice with taehyun in front of curious eyes, then slipped away toward the edge of the room for air.

and that’s when you heard it.

“y/n?”

you turned at the sound of your name — tentative, soft, almost disbelieving.

he was standing near the edge of the terrace, champagne glass forgotten in his hand, dressed in a dark suit that clung to his frame more confidently than it had when you last saw him. his face was older now — sharper jaw, deeper eyes — but the smile… the smile was exactly the same.

“heesung?” your voice was breathless. like it didn’t belong to you.

he stepped forward slowly, as if afraid you might vanish if he moved too quickly. “i almost didn’t recognize you. you—” he laughed under his breath, eyes roaming your face with a mix of awe and disbelief. “you’ve grown up.”

you blinked, unsure whether to laugh or cry. “so did you.”

it had been ten years. ten whole years since he left — packed off to europe for school, his family’s goodbye rushed and quiet. you had cried for two nights straight, then spent years pretending you hadn’t. and now here he was, in the middle of a gala, as if nothing had changed.

except everything had.

you were married now. in name, at least.

but still, when he smiled at you — wide and warm and genuine — something fluttered in your chest you hadn’t felt in years.

“you look incredible,” he said, eyes dancing. “i mean, not just the dress. you— i don’t know, you shine. always did.”

you lowered your gaze, cheeks warm. “you’re still a flatterer.”

“only when it’s true.”

you heard footsteps behind you before you could reply.

“taehyun,” you said quickly, straightening. “this is… lee heesung. an old friend.”

taehyun’s eyes moved from you to heesung in a single sweep. his face didn’t change, but something in his posture did — his jaw just a bit tighter, his stare a little too direct.

“taehyun,” heesung offered his hand, unbothered. “pleasure to meet you. i’ve heard a lot about you.”

taehyun shook his hand. short. firm. “have you?”

“well,” heesung chuckled, glancing at you, “maybe not a lot. but enough.”

you felt taehyun’s hand settle on your lower back — a gentle but deliberate touch, the kind he only ever used in public. you could feel the tension in his fingers, though. not affection. not comfort. something else.

you smiled politely, masking the strange electricity crackling between them. “heesung was my neighbor growing up. we were… close.”

“very close,” heesung added, too casually.

taehyun said nothing. but his hand lingered longer than usual.

his tone was pleasant. perfectly civil. but his fingers pressed slightly harder against your waist, and when you looked up at him, his jaw was clenched just enough to betray it.

and for the first time in a year of cold silences and empty gazes, kang taehyun looked... bothered.

you met heesung again three days later. this time, alone.

you told yourself it was just a reunion. a friendly catch-up. nothing more.

but he made you laugh in ways you hadn’t in years. he remembered everything — the way you used to hate thunderstorms, the songs you’d sing under your breath, the stupid nickname he gave you for always carrying too many books. he looked at you like you mattered. like you were more than a name in someone else’s contract.

you didn’t tell taehyun. and he didn’t ask.

you met again the next week. and the one after that. coffee turned to lunch, lunch turned to long walks through hidden parts of the city, where no one knew your last name. you smiled wider. your skin glowed. you started wearing the perfume you liked, not the one his mother approved. you began laughing out loud, not just behind a polite hand. and people noticed.

especially him.

the first time taehyun said something, you had just come back from lunch. your hair was windswept. your phone buzzed with a new message from heesung: i miss talking to you already.

taehyun was standing in the kitchen, sipping wine like always. he looked at you for a long moment before saying, “you’re seeing him again.”

you froze. “he’s my friend.”

his stare didn’t waver. “and i’m your husband.”

the silence was suffocating. you didn’t reply. you didn’t need to.

“don’t be careless,” he added after a pause. “people notice.”

but you couldn’t stop. because every time heesung smiled at you, you remembered what it felt like to be loved — or at least wanted. and every time taehyun’s eyes darkened across the room, you felt something crack open between you, something ugly and raw and dangerous.

and it was only a matter of time before it spilled.

you weren’t supposed to see heesung again.

you told yourself that the moment you stepped out of the café that night — that it was enough. enough catching up, enough smiling too much, enough letting your heart remember what it felt like to be looked at like you were something bright. but the next day, he texted. just a simple “remember the old bookstore by the river?” and without thinking, you replied. you remembered everything.

you met there the following sunday. it was quiet, tucked away behind overgrown ivy and the whisper of autumn wind. the inside still smelled like sun-warmed paper, and heesung still laughed like you were the most interesting story on the shelf. you wandered between aisles, letting your fingers trail along spines, and for a little while, it felt like you’d slipped through time — like nothing had changed. like you weren’t twenty-five and married. like your last name wasn’t kang.

he took you to lunch after, somewhere casual, small, a place you never would’ve stepped into with taehyun. there were no cameras, no eyes, no pressure to sit up straighter or speak more delicately. you ate slowly, letting the warmth of soup melt the cold that had crept into your bones over the last year. heesung talked about his travels, the people he met, the music he was trying to write. and when he asked about you, really asked — what do you like now? what makes you happy? — your throat felt tight.

you didn’t know how to answer. not honestly.

later, walking by the riverbank, you laughed when he called you “bookworm” again. you shoved his shoulder lightly and he caught your hand — fingers threading through yours like it was still summer and you were still fifteen.

and just for a moment, it was too easy to pretend.

but as the warmth of his skin soaked into yours, your stomach twisted. not with guilt, not yet. something more dangerous — doubt. was this what you were missing?

“heesung,” you said softly, eyes still on the water. “do you ever think we were supposed to be something?”

he was quiet for a beat. then, “i thought about you more than i should have.”

your heart thudded — but it wasn’t joy. it was grief.

you pulled your hand back gently, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself. “i used to think that too,” you whispered. “but that version of me… the one who wrote your name in the margins of her notebooks and cried when you left… she doesn’t exist anymore.”

he didn’t argue. he just nodded, like he understood.

you parted ways with a hug. longer than necessary, but not intimate. not improper. just... sad.

and when you stepped into the house that night, the silence hit harder than ever. no message from taehyun. no note. no light left on. only the familiar echo of emptiness.

you wandered into the kitchen, fingers still cold. you didn’t expect to see him standing by the window.

he turned, startled for a split second — rare for him — before composing himself.

“you’re late.”

“i went out,” you answered, setting your purse down. “with a friend.”

he didn’t respond. just stared at you like he was searching for something beneath your skin.

you avoided his gaze. “do you want tea?”

“no.”

you nodded, stepping past him. the silence stretched, heavy and full of things unsaid.

“you look different,” he said quietly.

you froze. “different how?”

he hesitated. “lighter.”

you didn’t know what to say. so you didn’t say anything at all.

when you finally made it to your bedroom, you sat on the edge of your bed, breath shallow. you thought about heesung’s smile, the sound of his laugh, the way he made you feel like your teenage self again — untouched by the cold calculations of your family, unburdened by the weight of your name. but you also thought of taehyun — the tension in his jaw tonight, the way his voice had shifted ever so slightly when he said you look different.

and that’s when you realized the truth.

you liked heesung, yes. you liked what he represented. freedom. comfort. the girl you used to be. but taehyun? he wasn’t the boy of your past — he was the man in your present. and despite his silence, his coldness, the way he looked right through you some days... you wanted him.

you wanted him to see you. want you. need you.

and that hurt more than anything.

because you were starting to realize... maybe you already loved him.

the room was all golden light and champagne — delicate strings of music trailing through crystal chandeliers, waiters gliding past with silver trays, women in gowns that shimmered like moonlight.

you stood near the center of it all, wrapped in a dress the color of soft wine. off-the-shoulder silk, cinched waist, a slit that whispered against your leg when you moved. your hair was swept to one side, exposing the slope of your neck. taehyun hadn’t said a word when he saw you leave your room, but his eyes had lingered. too long to be empty. too cold to be warm.

he escorted you, as always, arm linked with yours — not too tight, not too loose. he greeted the right people, nodded at the appropriate times, made you laugh when he needed to keep up appearances. you smiled when the cameras turned. you leaned into him when the board members looked.

but the minute your mutual obligation ended, he released your arm without a word and stepped off to speak with someone from the finance division.

you didn’t follow.

you wandered to the bar instead, thankful for the small reprieve, and that’s when you heard it — your name, light and warm like summer.

“you look like you stepped out of a painting,” heesung said, smiling, holding two glasses of rosé. “guess i’ll have to pretend i belong here.”

you smiled before you could stop yourself. “you look good in a suit.”

“don’t sound so surprised.”

you laughed, taking the glass he offered. his fingers brushed yours — brief, innocent — but still enough to make your heart stutter. you hated how easy it was to feel fifteen again. and you hated that you missed it.

“you didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

“i didn’t know,” he shrugged, sipping slowly. “my manager’s friend works with the caterer. said he needed a last-minute hand. i said yes without thinking. figured it’d just be another fancy party where no one would remember my name.”

“you’re wrong,” you said softly.

his eyes flicked to yours. there was something in them — something unspoken. something that a married woman shouldn’t try to read too closely.

“are you here alone?” you asked.

he nodded. “unless you’re counting all the corporate execs who’ve asked me if i play piano.”

you laughed again, this time quieter. “you do.”

“not for them.”

heesung's voice was low, almost teasing. but there was a weight behind it — an ache, maybe, or just the memory of something never lived.

you didn’t notice the man watching you.

kang taehyun stood on the other side of the room, his glass untouched in his hand. he wasn’t smiling. wasn’t even pretending. his gaze was locked on you — on the way your lips curved when heesung leaned in to say something; on how your fingers played idly with the stem of your glass; on the tilt of your head, the brightness in your eyes.

he hadn’t seen you smile like that since before the wedding. maybe never.

he finished his drink in a single swallow.

when he approached, it was silent — sudden. you only noticed him when the air beside you shifted, cool and sharp. he placed a hand on the small of your back, a gesture you were both used to in public, but this time... his palm stayed. firm. possessive.

“everything alright?” his voice was smooth, but there was steel underneath.

you blinked. “yes. taehyun, this is—”

“lee heesung,” he cut in flatly, gaze unwavering. “we met.”

heesung offered a polite smile. “good to see you again.”

taehyun nodded, but didn’t return it.

“your wife was just telling me how beautiful the venue is,” heesung continued, tone light. “honestly, this place looks like something out of a dream.”

taehyun’s fingers pressed a little deeper into your back. “she has good taste.”

you froze for a second — not at the words, but the way he said them. not like a compliment. like a reminder.

the silence stretched.

“i should get back to the kitchen,” heesung said eventually, glancing at you. “don’t disappear too fast.”

you nodded. “i won’t.”

he walked away.

taehyun didn’t move his hand.

“you’re close,” he said, eyes still on the crowd.

“we’re old friends.”

“looked like more than that.”

you turned to him, brows drawing together. “why does it matter?”

he didn’t answer. his jaw tightened.

you exhaled slowly, pulling your arm from his and stepping half a pace away. “you don’t get to be jealous, taehyun.”

his eyes snapped to yours, sharp and unreadable. “who said i was?”

you didn’t reply.

neither did he.

but when you walked ahead, you felt it — the burn of his stare against your back. the heat in the silence.

the car ride home had been silent.

not the usual quiet — the polite, professional kind that hovered between you like a well-dressed wall. this one buzzed. like static. like heat trapped under skin. taehyun sat beside you, eyes fixed on the dark city flashing past the window, one leg crossed neatly over the other, jaw locked so tight you could hear it click when he swallowed.

you didn’t speak. neither did he.

not until the front door of your shared home closed behind you with a soft, final sound.

then his voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“do you think it’s appropriate to smile like that in front of the board?”

you turned, slowly, heels clicking against the polished marble. “excuse me?”

“with lee heesung,” he said, dropping his watch onto the side table without looking at you. “you looked like a schoolgirl with a crush.”

you laughed, sharp and humorless. “so you were watching.”

he turned to you finally, his tie half loosened, shirt still perfectly tucked into tailored slacks. he looked angry — but not wild. not loud. just cold. tightly wound. exactly like you’d expect from a man who built walls instead of raising his voice.

“i didn’t have to watch,” he said. “the whole room saw it.”

“saw what? that i was happy for five minutes?”

his expression didn’t change. “you’re married.”

“are we?” your voice rose. not a shout — just enough to cut. “because from where i’m standing, it feels like we’re just two strangers with matching rings.”

he took a slow step forward.

you didn’t move.

“then don’t embarrass me,” he said, quieter now, like it hurt to say it. “not in front of people who matter.”

you stared at him — tall, beautiful, indifferent. you hated how good he looked like this. hated the way his presence still made your skin ache even when his words made you feel disposable.

“i’m sorry,” you said, stepping closer, voice trembling with restraint. “am i supposed to stay quiet and smile at your side like a fucking ornament while you pretend i’m not even there?”

“that was the agreement,” he said flatly.

you blinked.

taehyun flinched.

the silence after that was thick. awful.

you stepped back.

he didn’t stop you.

“you didn’t care before,” you whispered. “why now? why tonight?”

he didn’t answer right away. he just looked at you — really looked, for maybe the first time in weeks. and it wasn’t the way he looked at you at galas, or dinners, or in family portraits. it wasn’t performative.

this time, it felt like he couldn’t look away.

“you were mine tonight,” he said finally. “and you forgot that.”

you stared at him.

you didn’t say anything.

but your hands shook a little as you reached up and unclasped your necklace, one jewel at a time. your earrings. your bracelets. everything expensive he’d helped you put on earlier that evening, now coming off piece by piece like armor being stripped away.

you didn’t cry. you didn’t yell. you just walked past him, brushing his shoulder as you left the room.

“don’t worry,” you said over your shoulder, voice like ice. “i’ll remember next time.”

his footsteps followed you down the hallway. unhurried. deliberate.

“you’re not going to pretend this didn’t happen,” he said, voice low, firm.

you paused at the edge of the bedroom. didn’t turn around.

“what do you want from me, taehyun?” your words were a whisper, sharp and tired. “you barely speak to me. you barely look at me. and then the second someone else does—”

“i’m not just someone else.”

“no,” you said bitterly. “you’re my husband. legally. contractually. nothing more.”

that did something to him. you could feel it — the tension shifting, thickening in the space between you like a storm waiting to snap.

his voice came closer. behind you now.

“do you think i haven’t noticed the way you look at me?”

you turned then. slowly. eyes burning.

“what way?”

his jaw clenched. “like you want something from me. like you want me to be someone i’m not.”

your breath caught. not because he was wrong. but because he wasn’t.

“and you,” you hissed, stepping forward now, chest brushing his. “you act like you don’t want me. like this marriage is just a formality. but the second someone else so much as smiles at me, you break.”

he said nothing.

his eyes dropped to your mouth.

then back up.

“tell me i’m wrong,” you demanded.

silence.

“taehyun.”

his hands moved before his mouth did — gripping your arms, not hard, but with purpose. pulling you closer until there was no space left to pretend with. his breath hit your cheek, fast and uneven.

“you’re not wrong,” he said finally.

and god, it burned.

because that was all you had wanted to hear — some crack in his mask, some proof that you weren’t crazy for feeling the pull between you. and now that you had it, it only made everything worse.

“then why do you treat me like this?” you asked, voice barely a breath. “why push me away every single time i try to reach you?”

“let's sleep together,”

the door slammed shut behind you, hard enough to rattle the frame. your heels clicked against the marble floors of your shared home—too loud, too sharp in the silence. you stormed through the living room, toward the master bedroom, your dress dragging behind you in a frustrated blur of expensive silk and lace.

you didn’t even look back.

“you’re not sleeping here tonight,” you said coldly, pushing open the bedroom door and stepping inside. “use one of the guest rooms. i don't care which one.”

taehyun followed you, of course. always the quiet shadow behind your anger, never raising his voice—but tonight was different. his jaw was tight, eyes darker than you’d ever seen them. something was burning under his skin.

he stepped into the room before you could close the door on him. “the hell i’m not.”

you turned to him, chest heaving, tears stinging your eyes though you refused to let them fall. “don’t make a scene, taehyun. i’m not in the mood.”

“you think i give a fuck about your mood right now?” he bit back, stepping closer. “i watched you smile at him like that. laugh with him like that. and then you come home and tell me to sleep somewhere else?”

“we don’t even sleep together, taehyun!” you shouted, finally losing it. “we’ve been married for a year and you still treat me like some damn business contract! so why should you care who i talk to?”

he was in front of you in two long strides. too close.

“because you're mine.”

his voice was low. not yelling. not angry in the way you expected. but full of something darker—possessive, raw.

your breath caught.

“you don’t get to flirt with old friends like you’re single,” he said, crowding you backwards until your spine hit the wall. “you wear my ring. you sleep in my house. you're my fucking wife.”

“in name only,” you spat, but your voice trembled.

his eyes dropped to your lips.

“no,” he said, fingers brushing the edge of your jaw. “not anymore.”

and then he kissed you.

not soft. not slow. it was messy. angry. real.

a year of silence poured into that kiss — the frustration, the jealousy, the ache of sleeping in separate rooms while pretending to be a couple to the world. it wasn’t romantic. it wasn’t pretty. it was honest.

his mouth moved over yours like he was starving. like he hated himself for needing this. needing you.

your robe fell to the floor.

his hands were everywhere — your waist, your back, your thighs. he lifted you without effort, your legs wrapping around his hips as your back hit the nearest wall with a quiet thud. his mouth never left yours.

you gasped when his hands slipped under your silk nightdress. he groaned when he felt you bare and burning beneath it.

and when he whispered your name — hoarse, like a confession — you knew this wasn’t about duty anymore.

this was need. raw, dangerous, undeniable.

this was taehyun, breaking.

for you.

“stop pretending,” he growled against your mouth. “you want this too. don’t you?”

you didn’t answer.

you didn’t have to.

because your body gave you away.

he kissed you again, deeper, pressing his thigh between your legs as he cupped your face with one hand and slid the other down your back. you melted into him, your fists gripping his suit jacket. he pulled back just enough to speak.

“bed,” he ordered.

taehyun’s hands were steady as they moved over you, but there was something in his touch that made your breath catch — as if he was testing the boundaries of something fragile, something new.

your heart raced. you weren’t sure if it was the heat of his touch, the way he kissed you, or the slow realization that everything you had felt for him, all the confusion and desire, was now colliding into something far more real.

his hands traveled down your body, slipping under the hem of your nightdress. when his fingers touched your skin, it was like a spark. you gasped, and he froze for just a moment, before continuing, his fingers sliding up your thigh, almost teasingly slow.

he moved, lips trailing down your neck, sucking gently at the soft skin near your pulse. you arched into him, silently asking for more. the way he touched you, the way he made every inch of your skin burn under his fingers — it made you feel like you were breaking open in the best way possible.

you swallowed, hesitating for only a second.

taehyun’s hands were firm as they spread your legs, gently but with purpose, pulling you closer to him. his lips left your neck to trace down to your collarbone, each kiss a promise, each touch a slow unraveling of control. his breath hitched as he touched you where you needed him most, slipping past the fabric of your panties. you gasped, your body instinctively tensing, but he didn’t stop, didn’t falter. he was careful, tentative even, but the heat in his touch made it clear he wanted this, wanted you, desperately.

then you turned and walked toward it—slow, steps shaky—and sat at the edge.

he followed, kneeling in front of you, his fingers pulling off your heels, one by one, then slowly, reverently dragging his hands up your calves.

“your first time?” he asked, voice softer now. darker. laced with something almost like awe.

you nodded.

“i’ll be gentle,” he said, kissing your inner thigh. “at first.”

he lifted your dress slowly, exposing lace panties soaked through from everything he’d said, everything he’d done. he groaned low when he saw the mess between your thighs.

“look at that,” he muttered. “my pretty wife. dripping for me.”

you gasped as he licked a stripe over the lace, tongue hot and wet and slow. he took his time—kissing, teasing, tasting you through the fabric until you were panting, hips grinding against his mouth without shame.

“taehyun—please—”

“you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice hushed but intense. “so perfect.”

“let me in,” he whispered, his voice almost breaking, as if he was asking for permission, even though he had already claimed you.

“lie back.”

you obeyed.

he climbed over you, dragging the dress up and over your head until you were bare beneath him—your chest rising with every breath, your skin flushed.

he kissed your collarbones, your neck, your breasts—fingers tweaking your nipples, mouth trailing lower. then he was lining himself up, one hand gripping your hip as he kissed you again, deep and dizzying.

“relax,” he whispered against your lips. “i’ve got you.”

you nodded, the tension in your body thick as he carefully, slowly, pressed into you, watching your face the whole time. it hurt at first — the stretch, the unfamiliarity — but he didn’t rush. every movement was deliberate, tender, as if he were trying to make it as gentle as possible, as if he feared breaking you in the process.

your back arched at the stretch, tears welling up in your eyes from the fullness, the ache. he kissed them away.

“fuck,” he muttered. “you’re so fucking tight. like you were made for me.”

your breath hitched, and you held onto him, your hands gripping his shoulders as he pushed deeper, his lips finding yours once more. his kiss was hard, almost desperate, like he couldn’t get enough of you. his pace was slow, at first, allowing you to adjust, but the need in his body was impossible to ignore.

“you feel so good, baby. taking me so well. fuck—i can feel you squeezing me.”

but it didn’t stay soft for long.

because once you got used to him—once the sting faded and the pleasure bloomed—taehyun changed.

“this what you needed?” he growled, pounding into you harder, “a reminder that you're married? that you belong to me?”

he gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head, fucking into you harder, deeper. his jaw clenched as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

“mine,” he growled. “you belong to me. this pussy’s mine. not heesung’s. not anyone’s.”

“taehyun—god—”

“say it.”

“yours,” you moaned, breathless. “i’m yours.”

“that’s right,” he hissed. “and i’m gonna fuck you like it.”

he flipped you over before you could think—hands on your hips as he thrust into you from behind, one hand fisting your hair, the other slapping your ass hard enough to leave a mark.

“you like this?” he said, breath hot against your neck. “like getting fucked like a wife should?”

you couldn’t answer—you were too far gone.

he pulled you up against his chest, your back flush to him as he kept fucking into you. his hand moved to your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles until you were shaking again, sobbing from the pleasure.

“you’re gonna come again,” he said, voice rough. “you’re gonna come all over my cock while i fill you up.”

and you did.

your whole body convulsed, a scream torn from your throat as he groaned behind you, emptying inside you with a final, brutal thrust.

he didn’t pull out.

instead, he dragged you back into bed, still inside you, kissing your shoulder, your jaw, your lips.

“again,” he whispered. “we’re not done.”

you were still trembling when he kissed the sweat from your temple, when he pressed his chest against your back and held your hips tightly against his.

he hadn’t pulled out.

you could still feel him inside you—thick and hot and pulsing. the room smelled like sex and perfume and expensive cologne. your skin was burning everywhere he touched you. everywhere he kissed.

taehyun’s hand slid from your hip to your waist, then up to your throat. not squeezing—just resting there. possessive. grounding.

his voice was low, rough against your ear.

“feel that?” he murmured. “still so fucking hard inside you.”

you whimpered, thighs twitching. he groaned in response, hips rolling slowly, deliberately, grinding deeper.

“fuck—taehyun…”

“don’t say his name,” he snapped. “you moan mine. no one else’s.”

his hand tightened just a little around your throat, enough to make your eyes flutter closed, to make your breath catch.

“say it,” he demanded.

“…taehyun.”

“again.”

“taehyun—fuck—please…”

he pulled out then, and you almost cried from the sudden emptiness. but he wasn’t done. not even close.

“on your stomach,” he said.

your limbs obeyed before your brain could catch up—body pliant, aching, desperate.

he spread your legs with his knee, dragged your hips up, and slid back into you with a groan so guttural it echoed through the room. your fists clutched the sheets, knuckles white, back arching at the angle.

this time, he didn’t hold back.

his thrusts were deep, punishing, endless. the bed creaked beneath the force of him. his name spilled from your mouth like a prayer, like a cry for help. but he wasn’t stopping. he wanted to hear it.

he needed to ruin you.

his hand tangled in your hair again, yanking you up until your back hit his chest.

“you think anyone else could fuck you like this?” he hissed. “you think he could make you feel this full? this fucking owned?”

your moan was broken, desperate. “no—taehyun—fuck—only you—”

he bent you forward again, pressing your face into the sheets, his hand gripping your ass as he pounded into you harder, messier.

“that’s right. you belong to me.”

“taehyun—i’m gonna—i’m—”

“come for me. now.”

you shattered beneath him, legs trembling violently as he fucked you through it, not relenting, not even slowing.

“god, baby,” he groaned, losing rhythm, “you’re fucking milking my cock.”

he came deep, with a grunt that sounded more like a growl, his hips still grinding into you, desperate to push every drop inside.

neither of you moved for a long time.

his body collapsed over yours—heavy, solid, grounding. your face was buried in the sheets, lungs barely able to keep up, body boneless beneath his weight.

then, slowly, he pulled out.

you gasped softly at the mess that followed, at the mix of fluids dripping between your thighs, down to your trembling legs. he watched it happen with dark, hungry eyes.

“fuck,” he muttered, thumb dragging through the mess before spreading it back into you. “look at this. took all of me like such a good fucking girl.”

you whimpered, shivering.

taehyun leaned down, kissing your shoulder, your spine, your lower back. then he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you with him, both of you sinking into the sheets, tangled together.

he didn’t speak for a while. neither did you.

then, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it:

“don’t ever look at him like that again.”

his voice was low. dangerous.

your eyes fluttered closed, your fingers curling into his chest.

“i won’t,” you whispered.

he kissed your forehead.

“good,” he said. “because you’re mine. and i’m not letting you forget it.”

the room was dim, the soft golden light from the hallway spilling through the cracked bedroom door. taehyun hadn’t let go of you. not since the moment you both collapsed into each other, skin against skin, breaths uneven, hearts pounding too loud for either of you to ignore. the air was still heavy with the scent of last night—sweat, sex, his cologne lingering on your skin. your legs ached. your throat felt raw. but it was a quiet ache. a sore you didn’t mind.

but now, the high was gone, replaced by something raw and heavy.

his fingers traced idle shapes along the curve of your bare spine, but his eyes were distant. not cold — not like before — but unreadable. he wasn’t looking at you. he stared at the ceiling, his chest still rising and falling beneath yours.

you shifted slightly in his arms, pulling the sheets tighter around your body. your voice was quiet when you spoke.

"i know you don’t love me." you felt his breath catch. his hand stopped moving. "you never have."

taehyun didn’t answer at first. the silence made your throat close up. maybe you shouldn't have said it. maybe it was better when everything was unspoken — easier to pretend.

"you’re right," he said finally, his voice low, flat. "i didn’t."

you nodded, heart sinking, even though you told yourself you were prepared for that truth.

"but i loved you," you whispered, eyes stinging.

that made him look at you.

not glance. not flick his gaze and move on.

he turned his head, slowly, and looked at you like he had never seen you before. his eyes searched yours — not just your face, not your lips or your lashes or the outline of your cheek — but you. like he was trying to piece together something he hadn’t noticed until now.

"you what?" he asked, almost breathless.

"i loved you," you repeated. the words burned on your tongue, bitter and hot and trembling. "quietly. without reason. without hope. even when you wouldn’t look at me. even when you kept me at arm’s length for a year. i still—" you paused, swallowing hard. "i don’t know when it started. maybe it was the way you always pulled my chair out at those family dinners. or the way you’d always place your hand on the small of my back when we had to play pretend in front of everyone. it was nothing. always nothing. but it meant something to me."

taehyun sat up slowly, the sheets slipping down his bare chest. he looked like he wanted to say something, but nothing came. he was frozen, and that silence felt worse than any rejection.

you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. "it’s okay. you don’t have to say anything. i just… i needed you to know. even if it changes nothing."

"stop," he said suddenly. his voice cracked.

you blinked. "...what?"

"don’t say it meant nothing," he said, turning to face you completely. there was a tension in his jaw, his hands clenched in the sheets like he didn’t know where else to put them. "don’t say that."

you stared at him, lips parting, but he beat you to it.

"i saw you tonight," he said, his voice lower, steadier now. "with him. laughing like that. smiling like it didn’t hurt. like you weren’t trying to survive this fucking arrangement. and for the first time, i hated myself for not trying harder. for not seeing you sooner. i thought i could stay distant. keep it clean. keep it safe. but then—"

he exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair.

"then you looked at me like you didn’t need me anymore."

your heart thudded in your chest.

"so maybe i didn’t love you then," he said, his voice quiet again. "but don’t tell me it meant nothing. because right now, i think it’s starting to mean everything."

you stared at him, breath caught in your throat, chest tight with the ache of all the things unsaid between you.

slowly, carefully, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his.

"then let it mean something," you whispered.

taehyun closed his eyes. and for the first time — truly, deeply — he held you like he didn’t want to let you go.

he opened his eyes a little at the time. he stared a moment longer—at your lips, your eyes, the faint tremble still in your voice. then, for the first time, he leaned in without hesitation. without obligation.

his kiss was soft. warm. nothing like last night.

when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours.

“i’ll draw a bath for you,” he said. “stay in bed.”

you blinked. “you…?”

“you can’t walk properly,” he added, and this time, a tiny smirk curved at the corner of his mouth. “my fault.”

you flushed. “taehyun—”

“don’t argue,” he said, sitting up. the sheets slid down his bare torso, revealing the lines you’d traced with your fingers just hours ago. “you married me. you’re mine. that means i take care of you now.”

you stayed quiet as he got out of bed, the tenderness in his tone still ringing in your ears.

you’re mine.

i take care of you now.

but for the first time, you felt it in the way he walked toward the bathroom. in the way he turned on the water. in the way he reached for a towel and hung it over the warmer. in the way he came back to you with a robe in hand and helped you into it without asking.

he wasn’t warm. not exactly. but he was no longer cold.

he was changing.

and god help you—so were you.

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yeonjune · 6 months ago

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TOMORROW X TOGETHER ✙ ‘Heaven’ Special Video (Holiday ver.)

#tomorrow x together #txt #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #hueningkai #gifs #creations #userzaynab #useryeonbins #skyehi #rosieblr #megtag #hibiebear #heyiri #ultkpopnetwork #kpopccc #they look like teddy bears ;o;#man christmasy content without soobin is truly sad

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biteyoubiteme · 7 months ago

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bitten

beomgyu x fem!reader

synopsis: it’s been a century since the last youve seen him, why come back now?

warnings: 🔞!!! vampire!beomgyu, vampire!reader, mentions of blood, blood drinking, biting, angst, mentions of a break up,mentions of bite mark scars, a bit of soulmate trope, oral (f!rec), no protection,mentions of subspace, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 3.8k (now this flung the 2k limit out the window )

an: thank you for the request! I hope that this captured the essence of the request because vamp!gyu was consuming my thoughts after I read those lines. I love vampire fics and im so sad I don't have more on my page already and this was the perfect time to add one. not proofread im so sorry my sweet angel darlings have mercy on me and forgive me of any mistakes found.

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

The bar was dark enough to keep the bruised necks and wrists of the occasional lost traveler hidden. Spots of blood dripped onto crisp white shirts scenting the air in coppery sweetness. It was a sickening smell to those who didn't need to feed, the alcohol keeping the rest of the occupants held over enough to ignore the twinge.

You didn't come to places like this often, the back room filled with half-drunk vampires and humans, desperately grasping at each other as they took from one another. Even the drinks didn't call to you, not when he wasn't standing there behind the bar passing them to you, constantly working his eyes up your body like a desperate plea to have even a taste. He hadn't been turned then, not when you first met. The pull towards you always accounted for the fact you were tainted with blood lust. A moth to a flame, he felt that pull, your hunger enough to send him right into the fire without even glancing at him.

It wasn't often that a human found themselves offering their bodies up to vampires. Most of them felt the hair rise on the back of their necks, the prickling of fear telling them that whoever was standing just round the corner was a wolf in perfectly tailored sheeps clothing, how tight that human look held onto you after your change. The uncanny glow seeping that poisonous warning off in waves, a trap waiting for the truly reckless to trip.

The ones who wandered closer instead of away always found themselves in the back of bars like this, bruised and hazy eyed laying in beds done up in silk and candlelight. Beomgyu, although working behind the bar for years knew never to offer himself up to the ones who sunk his stomach, that warning to run ringing in his ears as he slid a drink across the hardwood. But you, the second the door had pushed open and your skin washed in that low down glow, tripped him up; your waiting trap snapping shut around him like a rib cage around fluttering lungs. Even the echo of fading hoof beats on stone sounded so close to the beating of his heart that he couldn't tell the difference between flight and flush.

But that had been years ago, so many that you couldn't even remember the shade of his irises. You remember they were brown, staring up at ceilings casing empty houses trying and failing to conger up the image. Well over a century's worth of time to hate yourself for forgetting the one thing that drew you in at first glance. But it wasn't as if you didn't try to work your way through the fading memories of him, all flickering by like the passing pages of a notebook you forgot you wrote and held so dearly. All you could see was that empty bed, the sugary taste of his blood still on your tongue, your breast still tender from where he bit you over your heart, so hard the soft outline of his teeth, like a stain you desperately wanted to rid yourself of.

You had come here, back to this bar only three times after he had left to check in. That night with tears in your eyes, heart crumbling, the second taehyun had confessed that beomgyu was gone, packed up with only a shrugged goodbye. “He said he doesn't know when he will be back,”

You had waited ten years to return the next time, so little time when you counted decades like snowflakes, not the glass shattering hail you assumed beomgyu would have still thought of as a recently turned fledgling. But no one had seen him, heard from him, hardly even thought of him. But he plagued you, ran around your head until you could taste the blood coming from overworked joints.

The third time was no better, not when you entered and Taehyun shook his head, apologizing for a friend he wouldn't recognize anymore.

You had given up, moved away, and swore to never think about beomgyu and his puppy stare. That follow you everywhere look that seeped into your bones and begged you to never turn away from him. Only now you were back, sitting in the far corner you fell in love, sinking into the leather seat wishing you could have that first glance back.

Taehyun felt pity when he saw you, knew that you had been locked away in some house countries away, only sending in orders for blood long since cold. He poured you a glass, the same drink you asked for with tears in your eyes that first night back alone, chugging so many of them back he's sure your blood tasted of fire, too sour, burning all the way down one's throat.

“Thank you,” neither of you wanted to bring Beomgyu up but he was the first thing on both of your minds.

“He hasn't-”

“I don't care,” you tossed back your drink, the ripples of mixed in blood making your fangs tingle, ready to push through soft gums and piece flesh not yet provided. It's why you came. Tired of the empty flavored pints of blood brought to you by Soobin and his sorry eyes. You hadn't put your mouth on anyone since that night, not even when it felt as if you had been scooped out with a spoon, carved open, and laid bare from hunger. If it wasn't him you would have nobody.

But that declaration was a century ago, so many cold cups later it was tiring to swallow another. “I want a girl, preferably quiet, business only,” Taehyun nodded to your order, already knowing the best pick.

“Room 615, she can be brought back in about thirty minutes,” there was no room for judgment, not after the years of working behind this counter, sneaking into those beds just like everyone else had. But he knew what it took from someone who hated to drink from a vein, it's why they had the services, those who couldn't go out and find someone or someones to keep up a constant full belly.

But human blood wasn't the same as drinking from a vampire, humans went out too quickly, blinking back their faintness, never able to take more than a few deep pulls before they were at capacity. Feeding from vampires was anything but a rush, that first mouthful was a wash of exhilaration. It made one dependent on each other, one taste and it was never the same. Taehyun could tell Beomgyu and you drank from each other. Could see it in the years after, the way you turned your nose up even at the bitter drink in your glass.

You would never feel full again unless you had him back.

Thirty minutes was enough time to go home and call soobin for a late night order. But your hunger was clawing up your throat, nails on a chalkboard begging for anything else. Having the time to think, sitting here, filled your mouth with the memory of him. Not just the taste of his blood but the faint drum of his turned heartbeat. You still remember the sound his human heart made. The way it pattered at the sight of you, that irregular beat speeding up every time you sat down in front of him, entered through the cherrywood door.

How even after you had turned him his heart still acted as if it was tied to your presence, fluttering weakly even if it was all it could muster.

It was that sound that made you turn, conjured up from memory only now to show up right behind you. Taehyun was frozen, face pale at the sight of his lost friend. He had only seen him once or twice after he had been turned but now he was no half human fledgling.

Beomgyu and you were caught in a web of your own disastrous weaving, stuck in place witnessing the crumbling of love because seeing him only settled the grievances you held into stone.

He wasn't hollow like you were, empty from the time left alone, the bloodlust having fully settled over his skin making him shine in that uncanny beauty. Everything about his gentle human features has been frozen in place, the warmth in his brown eyes only enhanced in the light. How sickening to have to now face the reality of what you had done to him, what he must have run from once he realized he couldn't truly love the monster who infected him.

It wasn't the butterflies of newfound love but sickening maggots wriggling in your stomach. You stumbled as you stood, not even worrying about the key taehyun had left for you next to your drink, not even a meal could keep you from running as far as you could.

It had been too long for him to come back when you had given up on trying to wait for him. How many nights had been spent waiting for this exact moment? Only now for you to run away. How cruel fate could be.

He was calling your name, that twinge of hurt mixed in with something close to pity, every syllable weaved through with the words, no, don't do this, don't make me feel sorry. Even his voice made you waver, the back and forth shake of your head confusing you as you walked down the wrong hallway.

Even through the doors, you could smell the blood from the occupants behind them, like overripe fruit left to sit on the counter, nothing smelled the same after one drop from him. And now with Beomgyu right behind you, weak heartbeat still mimicking that first sight, it was impossible not to pinpoint the smell of him. Wrapping around you like fog; a haze you tried desperately to claw your way out of but you knew it was no use. You had never felt so hungry until then, carved clean through with the need.

“Please, let me explain,” he tried, grasping at straws. He didn't intend to see you first, only planned on catching up with Taehyun and apologizing for leaving him behind without answers. Save this conversation for when he built up the courage. “Please,”

His fingertips only brushed your arm, the shock of it going right down to your toes. It was instinct to turn and slap his hand away, and even in your exasperated exhale, that first acknowledgment was enough to make Beomgyu weak again, as if he had ever been anything but when attached to you. “What is there to explain? You left, you left me there, alone in our bed,”

“I-” The words were stuck in his mouth, hanging right at the edge of his tongue and yet all that came up was a frustrated laugh, “well did you miss me?” even just hearing his own words he could tell you would fume.

“Did I mi- you left me! You fucking left me, if anything now I just hate you,”

It was so easy to fall back into it with you, as if you had woken up alone a few days ago not centuries, “look what you did to me. What I've become, don't act as if you're so innocent in this, don't blame me for decisions we both made,”

The words felt like a slap in the face. That night you had turned him so clear in your mind, the way he had begged, the way he had burned. It was one of the hardest things you had ever done, most vampires went their whole lifetime without infecting anyone because of how hard it was to complete and yet you had.

“I turned you after you asked me. Do you know how much it takes? And then like some love-sick fool, I drank from you and every day I think about how stupid I was to believe you would stay. After I left behind everything I knew just so that I could have some human boy stay with me. How pathetic,” the last word was thick, sticking to your throat and pulling your tears forward. “You should go back to wherever you ran away to, climb into some feeders bed to keep warm for all I care,”

You turned, ready to close the door on a life you wished you had. The one you begged for after nights spent alone clinging to the sheets that still smelled of him. But Beomgyu wouldn't have it, his grip tight on your wrist as he pulled you back, “It was never about changing me, I left because I wanted to know if it was real- that intensity was so…consuming, I was scared and so I ran. I ran and I looked for some way to replicate it because I'm a fucking fool who can't see right in front of himself. You made me addicted to you, I begged you to do this to me and yet I ran. Im sorry,”

“You can say that but you stayed away so long I'm sure you found some poor soul to swallow down by the mouthful,” he could feel your resentment coiling around him, snapping back at his desperate attempt to explain. Because there was no way for him to get the words out, even after running them around his head for the years he had lost all because of his own fear.

That night was stuck right behind his eyelids, replaying over and over. Your body pressed to his, soundlessly sleeping as he looked up at your shared canopy bed. Your blood was still singing through his body, staining his perception of life before you. He didn't know he could be so utterly infected by someone so much so that it colored his sky differently. Your soft breathing was enough to tear him apart, he wanted countless nights spent exactly like that one, just watching you, listening to you sleep. And it scared him. He thought humans had been over-emotional, feeling things as they came, wallowing in them because they had little time to let it spread out. But he was wrong, he hadn't known how full the world felt, how full he was after one drop of love from you. And now he was empty, starved clean from his own doing. “I was ashamed,”

The confession was so quiet matching your question, “And now?”

Beomgyu looked up from under his lashes, he was close enough now that your scent was suffocating him, begging him to give in and just sink his teeth right over your heart. Find the same place they had last been because no one had been able to tempt him to even pull his fangs down, not since you. “And now I'm starving,”

Even just the word from his mouth made your fangs ache. You had been getting by on so little for so long. He was the only thing your body needed and you knew he must feel the same. Your mouth was filled with saliva, that venom that numbed prey or set them ablaze. You tried to swallow but you could already taste him, the movement of your throat making his eyes zero in on your pulse. You were no better watching his adam’s apple bob, connecting the dots on long since gone trails of hickeys you’d left before.

Neither of you knew who moved first, moaning against lips you were sure you’d never kiss again. His sweet venom singing on your tongue. His hands were heavy on your body, pulling you closer as he pushed you against the hallway wall. He wanted to melt into you, his desperation crawling up his skin, hips keeping you in place.

You chuckled into his mouth, the sound rattling in the back of his throat like a prayer he wanted to keep to himself. “You always did get hard from kissing,” his whimper in response is followed by the grind of his bulge against you. How fast his body reacted to your touch didn’t change when he did.

His heart was picking up speed, your fingers running through his hair, the groves of your fingertips slotting back into place amongst the strands. Beomgyu’s fangs were already elongating, nipping your bottom lip. He had always felt so good about his self-control, accounting those early days of overfeeding on you for the simple fact of being so recently changed, he should have known you were the variable that cracked the hold he had on himself. It was only worse now that he'd nicked you enough to mix blood into the kiss, his throaty moan rumbling against your body, sinking into your soul.

You're both stumbling to find a room, twisting knobs until you find an empty one. The silk bed envelops the both of you as you fall into it, peeling off layers of clothes. Beomgyu can smell your sweet arousal between your legs the second he's pushed them apart to kneel between.

“Now look at this,” you can feel the pad of his thumb running over the bite mark scars he's left on your inner thigh, his grin wicked enough to make your knees twitch. “I wonder if your pretty cunt will remember me as well as your skin has,”

“You're impossible to forget,” and when you expected him to bite you, following the pattern of his usual ravishing but he skipped it, shocking you with his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking deeply.

His mouth is on a direct line to your spine, your back arching off the bed. His tongue is hot on you, tracing the lines of your folds, and moaning into your slick. He missed these desperate whines you let slip, the perfect backtrack to the messy slurping sounds he's started. You hadn't even realized how much you had missed his mouth, your fingers twisting into his hair the second he brushed a fang against your swollen bud. He loved to tease but it had been too long since you felt your orgasm rise so fast.

Beomgyu was eating you like he missed your pussy, your stomach tightening, hips sinking into the sheets. It only takes a few more precise sucks with his puffy lips before your toes are curling, eyes rolling back as you cum for him. His chuckle vibrates against you before he pulls away, chin shining with your wetness. “I missed the taste of you,”

He hasn't even tried to find someone else to take care of his needs, not when he knew no other cunt could compare to the way yours perfectly molded to him, sucking him in to the hilt. The memory alone is what had him rushing to get inside of you, cock already leaking rivets of precum.

You've never felt so needy in your life, fangs and pussy aching for him. The drag of his tip from your clit to your weeping entrance makes your knees fall open. One of his hands guides himself to push into you and the other tenderly holds your hip in place. Your mouth drops open at the stretch, slow as he lets you take in the feeling, needing you to remember how full he kept you.

Beomgyu whines, breath quickening as he shoves in the last few inches. He lets his body fall onto yours, needing to be closer, needing to drag his lips over your neck, teeth scratching at your pulse, “say it again, tell me how much you hate me,”

But he knows you can hardly speak, your legs wrapping around him, arms pulling him down closer. “Shut up,” you gasp, his hips rolling against yours.

“then beg me,” he doesn’t even have to say for what. Not when your neck is rolling back to give him better access to your vein, his lips brushing against your skin with each word. “If you don’t hate me, beg me to taste you. I know you remember how much I love to mix the flavor of your blood with your cum still in my mouth,”

As many times as he's crossed your mind, thinking about his fangs in your neck was something that would never compare to the moment they finally sunk in. You had never let anyone feed from you, not until he was there in front of you pleading. You were no better, not after you had changed him, needing to drain him of almost everything. But with one nod he was biting you.

Beomgyu’s mouth was flooded with your blood, the familiar flavor of iron mixed with the undercurrent of sweet delicacy. He’d dream about the first bite, mouth tingling, fangs brought forward on nothing but the memory of you. Now he was ravenous, so shocked by his own hunger with its pounding fists on nailed shut doors. His hips stuttered in his thrusting, caught on the ecstasy of quenched starvation.

You felt your mind slip into that hazy space, anything he asked would be answered, every action would be taken, and all you knew was him and him alone. To have that numbing venom injected into your bloodstream was enough to break even the strongest down into puddles of simmering whimpers.

It was hard to pull away and keep himself from overfeeding like he wished he could. But he felt his orgasm cresting, stomach flexing as his balls tightened. Beomgyu shoved his wrist to your waiting lips, your fangs stinging as they pierced his weak flesh. You drank deeply, thick swallows of the ichor you had prayed to get back on your tongue.

Everything was crashing down around you, beomgyu groaning as you clenched around him, fluttering walls sucking him in as you came, taking everything he had to give. He was a mess of moans, clinging to you as if that could keep him grounded when he felt this good. Every slow shallow thrust only pushes his cum further into you, still being pulled from him with every pulse of your greedy pussy.

Neither of you can believe how lost you had become, falling into each other like stars crashing into nothing but pooling darkness, so full of energy the only option was to collapse. And it's just what you did, twisting into each other's hold, beomgyu’s kisses pressed over the puncture marks he's made on you, nose brushing up and down your skin trying to keep your scent close.

Breathing evening you fought back the worry settling in. He had left before, walked right out the door without you knowing anything wrong had been on his mind, what was keeping him from doing it all over again?

“Stop thinking,” he muttered, mouth finding yours, mixing the flavors of your blood together as he kissed you. “I don't think I could find it in myself to ever leave again,” but he was pulling away, his playful smirk lingering on his lip cleansing your worrying mind if even for a movement. “How could I ever leave again after seeing how happy and full you are after only one round?” he pulled his still hard cock from you, the gush of cum slipping out, pooling on his ready fingers only to shove them right back into your waiting cunt. “No, nothing could keep me from this sight ever again,”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @chasingthatjjunie @no1likemybbgcharlie @beomiracles want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

#cams!1kevent #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu x reader #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt smut #yeonjun #soobin #taehyun #hueningkai

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hiddenhornsclub · 1 month ago

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𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛: 𝚃𝚇𝚃 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽𝚃

𝙼𝚢 𝙿𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞 @mazeinthemoon

₊˚⊹⋆ Water Fairy!Yeonjun x Human!Reader

He knows he’s the reason for your sleepless nights. he knows he’s causing you pain with destroying your garden, but he finds it difficult to stop. determined with love, water fairy yeonjun tries his hardest to make you look his way.

𝙾𝚏 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 (𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚍) -teaser @taegimood

₊˚⊹⋆ Nature Faerie!Soobin x Human!Reader

Somewhere beyond the border where the forest meets the sea, a guild master’s daughter hears the whisper of a song — and in the deep of trees far too ancient to name, kissed by memory lies the soft-spoken faerie boy who hymns it. the keeper of the fae kingdom and the girl with magic running hidden through her veins; when a corrupt sickness of dark and unknown origin begins to spread through the forest, rotting all that’s living into death and decay, will their fated, blooming love be enough to save it before it’s too late? or will everything be lost and wither away?

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚂𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚜 @hiddenhornsclub

₊˚⊹⋆ Fire Fairy!Beomgyu x Frost Fairy!Reader

An unlikely bond grows between two fairies, which turns into love as they discover they are the only ones who can truly touch each other.

𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙽𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝙰𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 @silvergyus

₊˚⊹⋆ Cyber Faerie!Taehyun x Human!Reader

A late night in a strange land finds you face to face with a stranger

𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 @hyukalyptus

₊˚⊹⋆ Music Faerie!Kai x Human!Reader

Call me cynical (many have), but if your entire appeal hinges on your audience wanting to have sex with you, I wonder if there is any substance at all. I give it two out of five stars. The music? Serviceable. The show? Predictable. Me? Unimpressed, unaffected, and wondering why I was the only one in the room not devastatingly horny.

divider: @bloodibambiidoll

Taglist: @i-am-not-dal, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @lovesickchoi

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niningtori · 9 months ago

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i know it's over | oneshot

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, kang taehyun x you

summary: you love beomgyu — you truly do — you just wish he loved you back, but after a particularly humiliating night in which he shows you just how little he cares, you finally decide enough is enough. enter kang taehyun, a sweet boy who's the polar opposite of beomgyu; but while you begin to develop your relationship with him, beomgyu realizes exactly what he's missing.

genre: ANGST, romance, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end

warnings: toxic relationships

word count: 7.3k

notes: repost/rewrite of one of my first works (formerly titled: to know him is to love him, and i do) THERE WILL BE AN ALTERNATE ENDING (edit: jk no there won't be), YES the best friend's little brother!beomgyu au won the poll but i'm so hesitant to post it because i hate it so i thought i'd post this for now until i'm able to edit the other work enough to where it's not an actual eyesore.

you're tired. really tired. exhausted, even, as you stalk through the doorway of beomgyu's apartment. you practically tear off your coat, letting it land harshly on the living room floor with a slight thud. beomgyu rolls his eyes and picks it up with a sigh before hanging it up on the rack.

"i told you it was nothing. why are you freaking out?" he asks flatly.

"she was fucking you with her eyes, beomgyu!" you exclaim in frustration.

"and that's my fault how?"

"it's not your fault, but i'm sick of you entertaining women, let alone your actual fucking ex, while i'm standing right next to you!" his ex is just another fish in the barrel, or at least that's what he says, but the thought that they were intimate together at one point still makes you feel sick. truthfully, your boyfriend is handsome, so you've spent the better part of the past 10 months warding off the women who circle him like vultures. you wouldn't mind as much as you do if he seemed at all interested in helping you do so, especially when faced with his ex that you suspect he still has feelings for, but he does not. quite the opposite, actually. it's like he thrives off of the attention and, god, it hurts.

"i'm not entertaining anybody. i told her i have a girlfriend now," he, well, you would say argues, but it's said so nonchalantly it doesn't warrant the term.

"a girlfriend you proceeded to ignore while she hung off of your shoulders and laughed all night! i just don't understand how you don't understand how much it hurts my feelings. i'm a human, too! how would you feel if my ex, who was very clearly interested in me, hung around me right in front of you?" and it's like you're explaining empathy to a child.

"me? i wouldn't give a fuck because it's not that serious," he replies with a slightly irritated shake of his head.

it's always like this. always. you're always the one who cares more between the two of you. you were the one who asked him out in the first place. you were the one who initiated your first kiss. your first fight. hell, even your first reconciliation. you're not stupid, you know he doesn't feel quite the same way you do, but he has to feel something, right? otherwise, why would he say yes to you when he's rejected so many other women? your brain hurts trying to wrap your head around it all.

"you're missing the point! if you were me, you would—" you begin frustratedly, but you cut yourself off. "you know what? i don't even have the energy to explain this to you. i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you, and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" you all but shriek.

"you don't have to do shit, just leave if you're that fucking unhappy," he spits out angrily, which is the first real emotion — besides mild annoyance — you've seen out of him this entire conversation. he gets impatient when you're like this, which usually results in you relenting, but not tonight. you're far too hurt to let go so easily.

"you're right! i am unhappy! i just — why don't you care that i'm unhappy? what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" you have a brave face on but you can feel your eyes getting hot and your voice trembling ever so slightly.

"you could try not being so damn needy, maybe that'd help."

your eyes redden even further and your lips unintentionally twist themselves into a sour frown. you hate it when he calls you needy because you do need a lot from him, it feels like. his time. his care. his attention and affection. yet you never seem to get it.

"do you not love me? like at all?" you ask. all of the venom in your tone has been sucked out mercilessly and you sound more helpless than angry.

"do you not realize how fucking crazy you sound?" he scoffs as if he can't fathom why you'd be upset. as if he's not watching you break down in real time.

"why won't you give me a straight answer?" you question, voice softer than it was before.

he does nothing but scowl, and that's enough of an answer as it stands. he doesn't care. never has. probably never will.

"then why'd you even say yes to dating me?" you truly don't understand. you thought you were different. you thought he saw something in you he didn't see in his harem of other suitors, and trust that there were many.

"i dunno. i was just bored, i guess," he answers with a shrug and your world as you know it collapses. the man you love sees you as nothing more than a way to kill time. he's picking you up right now just to toss you away when the next shiny toy presents itself, and so far, you've let him drag you around because you love him — that's how much you love him — but looking at him now, at how unbothered he is, you wonder if you've even got anything left to give.

"i really do love you," you manage to squeeze out with a bitter smile. your poor heart is on display for the naked eye to see, and it seems like he really couldn't care less, but that won't stop you from asking: "does that mean anything at all to you?"

"well, i'm sorry you feel that way," he says simply, "but that's not my fucking problem."

your heart sinks to your stomach and you feel like you're going to throw up. in this moment, as you watch the love of your life dismiss you like you're a fucking dog begging for scraps of food, you feel an overwhelming sense of clarity as you realize he doesn't love you. he doesn't even like you. he probably hates you, actually. like a mental montage, every moment in which he showed you that exact sentiment plays all at once in your head.

all those times you let him choose everything from movies to dinner because the idea of a compromise was inconceivable. all of those occasions, special and otherwise, where you were supposed to go out on a date, but he'd bail without a word and you'd forgive him with no apology. even something as menial as when you'd offer him your share of dessert because he ate all of his and you knew he wanted more, and he'd take it without so much as a thank you. how you'd sit and listen to him tell stories about how amazing his friends were, but he'd never even ask about your day. when those same friends would jokingly call you the perfect girlfriend, and you thought it was an indication of how good your relationship was, but in reality, it was a way to tease him because the thought of actually being with you was so abhorrent and ridiculous that it must be a joke. nobody likes a desperate girl, after all. all those times you told him you loved him and he'd just smile and kiss you deeper. memories like these flood your brain with a vengeance so cruel it makes your head ache, and in a way, you realize it's ridiculous to be surprised when there was so much proof of his feelings in the first place.

"oh. okay," you say with what you hope is a soft and unbothered laugh, but comes out more as a choked one. "i guess there's nothing left to say. i'll get my shit and go."

you hesitate for a few excruciatingly awkward moments before collecting yourself enough to start gathering your things, which are scattered haphazardly around his apartment from his bedroom to his bathroom. it's like a walk of shame, almost, and you feel even shittier when he plops down on the couch with a long suffering sigh as he begins to massage the bridge of his nose. you feel so small in this moment — like a petulant child who just got done throwing an unsuccessful tantrum — and you're now soaking in the sobering aftermath and sitting with the thought that he just watched you have a meltdown like he was watching a monkey putting on a show. how much more is he going to humiliate you? enough is enough, you think, so before you can actually finish collecting all of your belongings, you're scurrying out of the apartment. before you go, you glance back at him one last time.

"beomgyu?" you ask tentatively, tears clouding your eyes.

"yeah?" he replies with a sigh. this is it, you think.

"i don't want to see you ever again," you say firmly. before he can reply, if he ever intended to in the first place, you slam the door.

there's a lot to love about beomgyu. for one, he's handsome, which is obvious, but he has a certain allure you could never help but be drawn in by. he's always been a charming man, but even more so when he's talking to a woman he's interested in. as interested as he could be, that is. he's funny and comically pompous when he wants to be, but still somehow down to earth despite it all.

he's been described as a mood-maker, and while he grew to resent that term, you thought it was at least partially true, if only in the context of your relationship. when he's sad, you're devastated. when he's happy, you're over the fucking moon. his feelings are your whole world — or were, you guess, since all that's over now.

it wasn't all bad all the time, you think. there were times where you thought he really might reciprocate even a fraction of what you felt for him, and most of the time, that was enough. you could work with that. love looks different for everyone, you would reason. maybe he just had a funny way of showing it.

there were days where you'd laugh together and end the night lying in each other's arms while you'd cradle him like he was the most precious thing in the whole world because, to you, he really was. he was normally so boisterous when with his friends, but while he would never admit it to anyone else, he'd tell you about some of his insecurities while you gently combed your fingers through his long, silky hair. he'd speak of regrets and longing for people to take him more seriously. he'd never say it, but he wanted people to see you like you saw him. the real him. you'd let him cry while your hands cupped his cheeks and you'd shush him while he fiddled mindlessly with your hair like a child. you'd kiss the tip of his reddened nose until he laughed instead of cried. times like those, you'd really think you were someone special to him, but now you realize you were wrong. you were just an outlet for him, and anyone willing to be an emotional dumping ground would do the trick, too.

after a few weeks of moping, your sadness has begun to morph into anger and resentment. you spent nearly a year of your life trying to make an emotionally stunted man care about you, and that's not even counting the years of pining over him before you finally worked up the courage to ask him out. it was difficult to see it in the moment, but after being away from him for so long, it's crystal clear that he was honestly just an asshole who didn't really like you. nothing more, nothing less. maybe he'd find someone to change for someday, maybe he'd even work things out with his ex, but for whatever reason, you weren't her. that's just the way it goes, you guess. what really bothers you are the "what if's" of the situation. what if you were prettier, or smarter, or kinder; would he have seen you for who you really are? would he have grown to appreciate you if you had given him more to appreciate?

either way, there's no use crying over spilled milk now. you won't be going back to him any time soon, and he certainly won't come crawling back to you. you'll continue to think of him less and less until your time together fades into a distant (and unpleasant) memory. you smile at the thought.

the first time beomgyu realizes just how impactful your absence is, nothing in particular happens. it's a regular tuesday night a week or so after your "breakup" and he's bored out of his mind. he showers, listens to music, texts his friends and makes himself dinner, but something is missing.

as he sits on his couch, he realizes what it is: you. right about now, you should be pestering him to hang out and showing up on his doorstep to watch a movie. he'd roll his eyes at first, but eventually relent as long as he got to pick the movie, of course. he wouldn't say it, but he'd actually enjoy glancing over and seeing your reactions. you were comically expressive and every twist and turn of the plot had your eyes bulging and mouth agape, turning to him for confirmation that he was seeing the same things you were. when you watched inception for the first time, it absolutely rocked your world.

he's alone, but he puts on a movie, anyway. every so often, his head turns to the side with the corner of his mouth raised, but you're not there to give a reaction. he should be used to your absence by the third twist, but he still finds himself subconsciously turning to you throughout the rest of the movie. when the credits roll, he's half expecting to hear you chatter on about how crazy it was, but it's silent. the only time that would happen would be when you'd accidentally drift off in spite of how engrossed you were. you'd try to fight it off like a stubborn kid, but would succumb by the final act. he smiles at the memory before shaking his head in disbelief. what's wrong with him?

moments like these plague him more and more frequently, but the most notable one is the night before his first day at a new job. he briefly talks to his friends about his excitement, but he's too embarrassed to divulge just how anxious he is. times like this, he'd come over and complain for however long he needed. you'd sit and nod, asking questions during his pauses to encourage him to continue, always adding appropriate and thoughtful commentary.

his thoughts wander to how you're doing alone. you really love him, it seems, so he can only imagine how you're faring without him. he wishes you hadn't blocked his number so he could at least ask how you are. maybe you'd even tell him you miss him. not for the first time, he begins to wonder if he pushed you too far this time around. you've gotten angry and given him the silent treatment before, sure, but you've never blocked him and you've certainly never done it for so long.

he looks you up on instagram for the first time since your breakup. he's not terribly surprised when he sees he's blocked on there too, but all it takes is a switch to his photography account, which you had forgotten to block, to see what you're up to now.

the first thing he notices is a picture of you sitting outside with an ice cream cone in hand, sun encircling you. your smile is beaming and your eyes are crinkled and he can almost hear your giggle through the screen. the caption reads "ice cream date with my best friend!”

he scrambles through his memories to try to remember a time in recent history when you two did something similar, but he comes up blank. what he does recall, though, is you mentioning a new frozen yogurt place you wanted to visit with him for your birthday. he nodded in response, but he knew he wouldn't go with you, opting instead to get shitfaced with his friends. in retrospect, maybe you knew it, too. he had checked his phone the next morning and saw he had at least half a dozen missed calls and well over a dozen texts from you. when he finally texted you back, you took almost a full 5 hours to respond, which was uncommon. usually, you'd text back within minutes. it occurred to him later on that that was your version of the silent treatment, and it amused him that you could only hold out for a few hours. he honestly found it kind of cute.

he remembers what you did for his birthday. how you had secretly invited his friends over to his apartment to surprise him after an especially shitty day at work. he came home to an elaborately decorated apartment and all of his favorite people greeting him. he remembers how happy you looked when he opened up your present to him, which was the guitar he had always secretly wanted but could never quite justify buying for himself. you were so excited, any spectator would think he had gotten you the gift of your dreams and not the other way around. you were practically buzzing with excitement when he pulled you in for a kiss. his friends had whooped at the display of affection, and you giggled shyly at their reaction. what did he get you for your birthday again? anything?

he spends days pondering over this and similar circumstances, which eventually turn into weeks upon weeks. what starts as a nagging feeling that he may have gone too far in his neglect for you becomes guilt and anxiety. he recalls just how torn up you seemed the last time he saw you. to be honest, at the time, he was mostly just irritated. but he never thought you'd actually leave. all he can see is that awful look on your face when you finally ended everything, and all he can remember is the fact that he put it there. he knows in his heart that he has no right to feel this way, but he feels it all the same.

you would have never imagined you'd actually like somebody other than beomgyu, but taehyun makes it as easy as possible given the sticky circumstances. you met at a club your best friend dragged you to, both you and taehyun had to remain sober (designated drivers, of course) and ended up having a surprisingly engaging conversation amidst the blaring music and strobe lights. after that, the rest is history.

he can tell you've been hurt before, but he gently coaxes you into opening up as you spend more and more time with him. you're afraid of being overbearing and coming across as a lovesick puppy again, but taehyun is gentle and seems to enjoy your attention and affection, even if he's a surface level tsundere. more than that, he actually reciprocates it.

do you still think about beomgyu? of course. do you miss him? well, you'd never admit it to a single soul, but the way you see him in everything has to be an indicator that you do. it's getting better, though. more bearable.

a month or so into your relationship, you post about taehyun for the first time. you don't know why you're so nervous about announcing to the world that you have a boyfriend again, but happiness overwhelms your fear when you're met with nothing but positivity.

beomgyu is shellshocked, to put it mildly. the picture of you and your so-called boyfriend is sickly sweet. it's not over the top or anything—just a candid of you in a café holding hands with him while looking over the same menu. the caption is nothing other than a heart and squirrel emoji (why?) and both he and your best friend are tagged. his finger jumps to the boy's profile and he sees the same photo. he scoffs at the cheesiness of it all, but his heart aches at the way all of your friends have commented on the post expressing their happiness for you — they had never approved of him for reasons he's only now beginning to understand.

you always defended him in front of your friends no matter what he did or didn't do. you'd "comfort" him after your friends said something snarky and explain that they just didn't understand him. you'd say that if they knew the real him, they'd see him differently. at the time, he'd scoff and say something along the lines of "i don't need for them to see me differently because i couldn't give less of a fuck about what they think”. you'd be hurt, of course you would be, but you'd never say so.

more and more, like an outsider looking in, he can see just how awful he was to you. it's to his horror that he realizes this must be the case for you, too. the chances of you getting back together with him seem slimmer and slimmer, especially now that you've got that pretty boy on your arm. your words echo in his mind as if to haunt him: "what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" leave, apparently, and don't look back.

he can't keep living like this.

a knock on your door is all it takes to ruin your night — you had actually had a really good day up until now. you and taehyun had gone on a breakfast date and napped together until he had to leave in the afternoon, so you're humming now in contentment while applying your nightly skincare, thinking relentlessly about the boy you think you might be starting to love. it feels different from the love you felt for beomgyu, but in a good way. you still think about him and wonder how he's doing, but you always derail that train of thought with a god-given force previously unknown to you. he doesn't care about you, you chant to yourself — it's almost like your daily mantra. in the midst of your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door. you smile widely when you surmise that it's probably taehyun again. you don't realize just how big your grin is until it drops.

standing before you is not your lovely boyfriend, but the man who made you question whether or not you were even lovable in the first place. he has a small smile on his face, and if you were to look a little more carefully, you'd notice that he actually seems a little nervous.

"hi," he says, breaking the silence. his heart is racing a mile a minute, and potential scenarios battered his mind the entire way here. what would you do when you saw him? smile? he could handle that. cry? he could also handle that, even if he didn't want to see your tears. what he is not prepared for is the blankness of your features when you ask:

"what are you doing here?"

his smile falters almost imperceptibly.

"i, uh, i just wanted to see you." you're merciful enough to give him a nod of encouragement to continue. "a-and i wanted to tell you that i haven't stopped thinking about you for the past few months, and that i, um, i think i'm finally ready to be with you," he finishes with a shaky breath.

you're quiet for a moment and squint your eyes as if you're deep in thought.

"but i thought you were dating someone now? your ex?"

"i'm not!" he says almost a little too quickly.

"i heard you were," you counter, not quite believing him. you heard he had been seeing his ex from one of your friends who happened to live in her apartment complex. she had seen his car in the parking lot a few times in the last couple of weeks and had no reason to lie to you.

"w-well, i've seen her a few times, but not seriously. i — to be honest, i was just trying to get over you, but i've finally realized that i can't becau—"

"so, just to make sure i understand, you're not over me so you're seeing her?" his eyes widen in shock before his head hangs in shame as he realizes exactly what he's done and how he must look to you right about now, but you're not finished. "isn't that what you were doing with me?" your voice is low and indifferent, but each word feels tailor-made to slash at his heart. "wow, i guess some things really never change, but don't worry, i'm sure once she moves on, you'll finally see the good in her instead of me," you spit out.

"can you listen to me? please?" beomgyu is so ashamed he wants to die. he fumbles for the right words, but when he accidentally makes eye contact with you, they die on his lips. he wishes you would give him time to process what you're saying and mull over what to respond with because you always knew he was bad with words, but he supposes he lost the right to your patience a long time ago.

"you want me to listen to you so you can fuck with my head until the next person rolls around?" the latter words are strangled by the tightness in your throat, and he can't help but wince. when he thinks it's over, you continue.

"nobody has ever made me feel as small as you have. i hated myself because of you," your lip trembles and before he can say a word, you're raising your hand to shut the door.

"wait, wait, wait! just let me say this," he pleads as he gently grasps the doorframe. "i... i love you." he almost thinks he hears you gasp, but he's too busy looking into your unreadable eyes to know for sure. he has never said anything like this to you before. you're completely silent for a few moments before breaking the tense atmosphere.

"j-jesus, i mean, i guess i just don't know what to say," you sputter and his eyes alight with what looks suspiciously like hope. "except maybe that... i'm sorry you feel that way?" you finish with a sardonic smile and a roll of your eyes. before he can respond, which he actually intends to do this time around, you slam the door in his face.

if you were to ask beomgyu if he loved his ex mere months ago, he'd say he didn't know for sure, but probably. they ended things rather messily, which seems to be a trend for him, but if he really thinks about it, he doesn't know what he liked about her after all. if he had to pinpoint it, he liked the thrill of the chase and the idea of never knowing how explosive things would inevitably get between the two of them. he liked the toxicity. only now does he understand that that wasn't love at all, but some sort of sick game of hurting and being hurt he doesn't want to play anymore. he doesn't want to hurt the people around him, especially not you, but it would appear that that sentiment has presented itself a little too late.

there's always been a lot to love about you. always. you're so kind and so incredibly patient, at least with the people you love. you're thoughtful and intentional with your words and actions. you're not perfect, but you try your best to be a good and fair person. and you listen. like, really listen. the kind of listening where you're not just waiting for your turn to talk, but the kind where you genuinely want to know what the other person has to say. even if he didn't know it at the time, beomgyu always did love you. was it in the way you deserved? obviously, with the way things are now, it's perfectly clear it was not.

even if he does bump into you, it's completely pointless. you made it perfectly clear that you want nothing to do with him. the last thing you said to him echoes in his head with an unspeakable viciousness.

"i'm sorry you feel that way." he didn't realize just how cruel those words were until they were falling from your lips instead of his. he didn't realize just how cruel he was in general.

he ponders over how succinctly you summed up your entire dynamic:

"i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you, and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" to be honest? he doesn't understand why you had to do that, either.

contrary to what one might suppose about him given his overall shitty personality, he had actually had a pretty good go at life. he was innately able to make the world sit and watch him go, and he wouldn't let anyone forget it. but what should he do since you don't want to watch him anymore? what should he do since you don't want anything to do with him anymore?

as he sits in the extremely uncomfortable chair of his new least favorite bar, he's confronted by this truth over and over again. he's not completely sure why he's even here — he hates this place, but he remembers you mentioning you liked to come here. in hindsight, there's no doubt that that was a way to hint that you'd like to come with him, but what use is it to recognize it now, after all this time?

not much, apparently. or at least that's what his conscience is telling him. he should leave, he thinks. he should stop coming here every night hoping he'll run into you because it's wrong to make you uncomfortable when you've said in no uncertain terms that you don't want him anymore. he should, he should, he should. and he will, really. in just a minute. that's what he tells himself, but he just watches the door as he gets drunker and drunker, still.

he's on the brink of literally passing out when he hears a sound he'd recognize anywhere: your laugh. he actually thinks he's hallucinating just because he wants to hear it so fucking badly, but it takes the sound of your voice to convince him it's real. you're actually here. he's incredibly drunk, so the idea of being tactful escapes him. he can't miss this chance.

you try, and try, and try some more, but you can't seem to forget beomgyu's last words to you. he loves you? you scoff at the idea. does he even know what love is? it doesn't feel like it — truly, it doesn't. if that's what his love feels like, you'd rather not feel it at all.

that's what you keep trying to hammer into your head along with the idea that you're doing well, and you are doing well. seriously. things with taehyun are better than ever and you can really see yourself building a life with him. everything feels so pure and brand new. your feelings for him may lack the intensity that you felt with beomgyu, but that was years in the making, so it's only fair that you nurture the love that's blossoming between the two of you while smothering out the embers of what used to be with beomgyu. it's only right, right? it should be, but the way you're so torn makes your head spin.

so you decide to go to your favorite bar and forget about everything for the night. it's been a long while since you've let loose, and you're excited. you're surrounded by your friends and you're ready to let go. it's only when you excuse yourself to get some fresh air that you realize fate has other plans.

when you're walking to the curb to take a seat, you feel a tug on your elbow and whip around.

"who —" you stop dead in your tracks as your eyes meet with beomgyu's misty ones. the ones you used to love so much.

"hey," he says weakly.

"what do you want?" you seethe while harshly yanking your elbow from his grasp. his lips purse and even in the dim lighting outside of the bar, you can see his eyes water even more. he's always been such a baby when he's drunk.

"i just wanna talk," he pleads. he sounds so out of it and looks so pathetic you almost feel bad for him. almost.

"i have nothing to say to you," you reply coldly.

"but i do." he sounds desperate to a degree that you sincerely never thought you'd hear.

"what, are you gonna tell me you love me again?" you retort with a roll of your eyes. you're obviously being sarcastic, but all he can think in his drunken state is how pretty your eyes shine even when they're impatient to look away from him.

"if you're not gonna say anything, i'm leaving," you snap, turning away, but beomgyu is awoken from his daze and gently pulls you back.

"n-no! i mean, yes. i love you, b-but that's not what i wanted to say."

"well, what did you want to say?" you ask, tone laced with annoyance.

seeing that you'll actually give him a chance to hear him out, he scrambles for a moment before clearing his throat. he’s so anxious that you can see his hands shaking as he wrings them.

"i just want to tell you that i’m sorry. i know i’ve said it before, but i want you to hear it again, and i’ll tell you as many times as it takes for you to believe me. i want to make it up to you — i really do — and i know that i can change. i'm — i just miss you so much i can't stand it. i-if you don’t feel the same way, or don’t care, or however it is, i understand; but i meant it when i said i love you, and i mean it now when i say that i'm so, so fucking sorry," his voice cracks as he finishes and hot tears threaten to find their way down his face.

"beomgyu..." you begin, not really sure what to say. what is there to say? and any hope he has of being with you is almost extinguished when he sees how much you pity him in this moment, but he'll hold on for as long as you'll let him.

"you said you saw the real me. you know i'm not all bad, right? i'm a piece of shit, but i can't be all bad," he pleads, tears now streaming unabashedly from his eyes. maybe if he can just find the right words, you won't leave him.

"beomgyu," you sigh, "i've never thought that about you. i know you're not all bad," his face perks up at this and he's tempted to bury his face in your neck and sob in pure relief. the pain he's been feeling for the past few months is about to be over because you understand him. always have. even though he's like this, you can still see the good in him. just the thought alone is enough to fill him with pure ecstasy. he goes to close the distance between the two of you to pull you into his embrace, but you gently place your hand on his chest before he can come any closer.

"thank you for telling me how you feel, beomgyu, but if you think you can fix everything with a few words, you're delusional." his face crumbles at this and a sense of panic and dread pools in his stomach.

"w-what? b-but you said —"

"i know you're sorry, and i know you'd probably try to make it up to me if i let you, but that's not enough. you really hurt me, okay? and it's just, you know, i'm finally happy now, and i have taehyun. i really like him, beomgyu. and he really likes me," you say with a fond smile, as if you're thinking of taehyun right now, and his heart shatters into a million pieces.

"it's okay," he smiles bitterly, tears still flowing freely. "i... i understand. i just want you to be happy. i want you to be so happy. you deserve it."

"but..."

"go back in," he sniffles. "you don't need to stay here with me anymore." he swipes at his eyes with his sleeve and tries to send you off with a smile, but it's so forlorn, you wish he'd just keep frowning.

"... okay." you turn away, and even though he told you to do it, he can't help but feel an even bigger lump in his throat now that you're actually listening to him.

"beomgyu?" you say softly, before you enter the door.

his damned heart can't help but flutter again against his will.

"yes?"

"don't wait for me anymore, okay?" and he knows you’re being kind, but it feels so final, it hurts more than any hateful words ever could. he should agree, but the ugly and selfish part of him refuses to lie, so he just shakes his head and waves you off. his love is ugly and his heart is broken, but it's still yours to have.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs again to nobody but himself as you enter the bar.

“tyuuunn,” you whine into your phone’s speaker. you can’t tell how it's been since your final conversation with beomgyu, but now you’re drunk and all you can think about is taehyun. about his kindness, how happy he makes you feel, and how much you want to give him all of that in return.

“what is it, baby?” he coos. even in your inebriated state, you can hear the smile in his voice and it makes you wanna smile, too.

“miss youuu,” you groan. he laughs at your childishness, and you can feel just how much he’s doting on you. it’s a relatively new feeling, being cared for like this, but it’s one you welcome with fervor.

“let me pick you up from that stupid bar so you can stay the night. how’s that sound?”

“mmm, hurry up,” you pout, and he just laughs again. god, you’re gonna feel so embarrassed by your neediness come tomorrow morning, and he can’t wait to tease you.

taehyun is so eager to see you, he almost gets pulled over twice while making his way to the bar. he just can’t wait to see how cute you’ll look in his arms, all whiny and grumpy and begging for affection; and he’ll baby you, like he always does, because you deserve it. when he had heard about your appalling history with beomgyu, he couldn’t believe how someone could treat a person as sweet as you so cruelly. truth be told, you do have a bit of a softer personality, but that only evoked the need to protect and cherish you in taehyun. he can’t fathom the idea that somebody would see someone so pure and decide to take advantage instead of nurturing that innocence. his friends keep saying he’s a sucker, and they’re probably right, but he’ll happily be one for you.

he’s lost in his thoughts when he pulls into the parking lot of the bar you’re in, but his dopey grin drops the second he sees your dreaded ex stumbling away from the building. his face is red, and he’s feverishly wiping away tears and snot. taehyun is a smart man, so he can easily piece together what must have happened, but the thought that you were still thinking of taehyun in this moment comforts him. you had run into your ex, and instead of running back to him, you’re thinking of your new boyfriend. what a relief. taehyun has always known you were still a little broken up about your split with beomgyu. he came into this relationship fully knowing that, but he liked you so much, he really didn’t care. maybe it was rash of him, but he thought it was worth taking a chance. he thought you were worth taking a chance, and so far, he had been correct.

he parks and stays in his car. if he were a petty person, he might ignore beomgyu and just walk right by him with his arm wrapped around your waist. taehyun, however, is a good person. so good, in fact, he waits for beomgyu’s friend to pick him up before leaving his car to find you.

when he enters the bar, he scans the crowd before he finds you sitting with your friends. your phone is to your ear and it only takes a few seconds for his own to ring. he smiles when he sees your contact photo (the one you both took on a date to your favorite frozen yogurt shop) appear on his screen. he rejects the call and watches you pout before striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder. you turn around with a scowl, but your features immediately melt, and you grace him with a toothy grin. you excitedly squeal and wrap your arms around him. he matches your enthusiasm as he peppers your face with kisses.

beomgyu, who has very unfortunately come back to get his phone, watches it all and it’s enough to make him nauseous. he’s in such a daze as he watches you two that he barely registers his own friend honking at him to hurry up. he sees the afterimage of you leaning into taehyun’s touch and accepts the fact that you’ve truly moved on and won’t be coming back. he replays the last conversation you had and he decides he’ll hold onto your words forever. they’re all he has left, after all.

you’re so used to taehyun’s apartment that even though you’re drunk enough to see stars, you’re still able to navigate it with ease. taehyun sits you down on his couch and kneels while removing your shoes for you.

“so chivalrous,” you giggle.

“anything for my princess,” he replies cheekily with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

“why are you so nice?”

“because i like you,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“i like you, too.” you whisper while your face warms. your gaze becomes heated, and he cups your cheeks while gently guiding your face towards his. his touch is soft, and his lips? even softer.

he doesn’t push for more. you’re drunk and vulnerable at the moment, so he graciously grabs some of his clothes for you to change into and waits for you to come to bed. when you do, you plop down and he pulls you into his arms. you smile at his earnestness. he locks his arms around you, and for the first time in your life, a man is making you feel so happy and secure you can’t help but melt into the feeling. you feel safe. you feel loved.

“i really like you, you know?” he whispers into your hair, and it’s all you can do to keep your heart inside of your chest.

“i know. i really like you, too.” and you do. things with taehyun are still new, but as his breathing slows, you realize this is how love should be, and you think you want to be with him for a long, long time.

notes pt. 2: yes there will be an alternate ending where she ends up with gyu :,)

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#niningtori #i know it's over #beomgyu fic #taehyun fic #txt fic #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #taehyun x reader #taehyun x you #txt x you #beomgyu angst #taehyun angst #txt angst #taehyun fluff #txt fluff #txt fanfic #beomgyu fanfic #taehyun fanfic

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delugyu · 4 months ago

Note

i just finished c3 and im ovulating and i neeeDDDD more needy pathetic bsf ficsss!!! but uhmmm can u make one for taehyun 🥹🥹🥹 i need him bad after THAT vid he dropped WHEEW

YESSS i can!!! i got so carried away with this omg

(wc: 3.6k / warnings: taehyun is a teaseeee 😵‍💫, and very clingy, heavy petting, tyun has one hell of an oral fixation, unprotected sex and too much faith in the pull out method)

you truly do love hanging out with taehyun, but you would also appreciate it if he didn’t make trying to leave such a pain in the ass. you have homework to get to, shows to watch, food to eat…

“you can do all of that with me!” he argues. there is no winning against taehyun—you either give in, or you leave him to cry for hours on his own. you hope that’s an exaggeration, but at this point it really might be true.

“but i want to do it at my place,” you say. he grabs your wrist and drags you back into his bed beside him. half-reluctantly, you let him pull you against his body and cuddle into you.

“it’s so much better with me, though. you know it.” he seems to take offense at the way you laugh at his insinuation, because he pinches your waist in retaliation.

“ow!” you try moving away from him after his attack, but he doesn’t let you get far. if anything, he just pulls you in closer. he rests his head in the crook of your neck and inhales like some creep, and you tell yourself it’s probably just a weird joke. “don’t do that,” you scold, pushing his head away. he grins at you, bashful.

“can’t you just stay here tonight?” he asks, propping himself up on an elbow so he can look down at you. his fingers find the thin chain of your necklace, fiddling with the pendant on it mindlessly.

“i slept here two days ago.”

“and? you can sleep here one more night. your laptop still works in my dorm, you know.” he challenges the glare you send him, and with a sigh, you back down.

“you better not bother me while i do my work,” you say. he wears a triumphant grin, patting your head like he’s proud that you finally gave in.

all is quiet and peaceful for the next thirty minutes, and you get a decent outline done for your assignment. every time you glance back at taehyun, he’s just sprawled out on his bed, scrolling on his phone. you’re a little surprised that he hasn’t tried to annoy you yet; he normally breaks around minute ten.

you tap your nails against taehyun’s desk to the rhythm of a bunch of different songs, bored out of your mind while trying to figure out how to write this cohesively. you sigh heavily, slouching down until your head meets the desk. you’ll only close your eyes for a couple minutes, just to push away the headache that threatens to come over you…

it’s definitely been more than a couple minutes when you feel taehyun’s hand on your shoulder, jolting you awake. “what?” you ask quickly, fixing your posture and blinking the sleep from your eyes. you wiggle your finger on your laptop’s mousepad to turn the screen back on, eyes widening when you see you’ve just killed another twenty minutes, and you’re only an hour away from midnight now. every ounce of tiredness drains from your body in an instant.

“did you seriously fall asleep?” he asks, almost sounding amused.

you return all your focus to your assignment, not even looking at taehyun when you answer, “no.”

“liar,” he says, laughing. his hands tuck your hair out of your face, then hold it in a makeshift ponytail. you let him have his fun, it feels good when he plays with your hair anyway.

he stays standing near you long after his hands leave your hair, and you ignore his presence to the best of your ability. it’s a little hard to write down any sentences when you feel taehyun looming behind you and reading over your shoulder, though. you sigh out in mild frustration.

taehyun’s knee nudges the seat of your chair, and you turn your head to look at him. “can i sit?” he asks.

you scrunch your brows. “no, i’m sitting here. go to your bed.” you make a motion towards it and return to your work.

“you can just sit in my lap,” taehyun offers, hand landing on your shoulder.

“or you can just go to your bed.”

“but i wanna hoooold youuu.” he pouts and leans in close to wrap his arms around you.

“i thought you said you’d let me work in peace?” that seems to get him to listen. he finally trudges back into bed, muttering out something that you don’t bother to strain your ears for.

you finish your assignment forty minutes later; it’s half-assed, but at least it’s done. taehyun couldn’t look happier to see you walk over to him.

“finally. i thought i was gonna die,” he says.

you laugh and get into bed with taehyun. his smile doesn’t leave his face for a second as he wraps you in his blanket, making sure you’re nice and comfortable. he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into him.

“what do you wanna do tomorrow?” he asks.

you hum in thought. “i got my 8am tomorrow, so i need to head out early.”

taehyun groans, “you’re kidding me.”

“i wish.”

“just skip.” you can hear the grin he’s wearing when he makes the suggestion. “you know you want to.”

“no, i only get two absences throughout for whole semester for that class,” you explain, to which he just groans again. he’s so childish. “you never skip for me either!” you defend.

“you never ask me to. i would if you wanted.” you turn around to face him, giving him an incredulous look.

“yeah right. you’re crazier about your grades than i am,” you say.

“i’m crazier about you than i am about my grades.” he’s biting back a teasing grin after he says that. you smack his chest, trying not to let your face heat up too much at his flirtation.

“don’t say that stuff,” you scold.

“why? it’s true.” he’s still got that amused glint in his eyes as his face moves a little closer to yours.

“stop,” you say with a nervous laugh, gently swatting his chest. it almost looks like his eyes fall to your lips for a second. that would be ridiculous, though, and you’re sure he’s smarter than that.

“can’t you skip this once?” his voice is lower when he asks that. he brushes some hair out of your face and lets his hand linger on your jaw. there’s something forming in the air between you, something that has your heart beating a little faster.

“what are you doing, taehyun?” you ask in a whisper. his lips curl up like he’s been caught red-handed, but he doesn’t respond. you flinch backward when he brings his face closer to yours. “oh my god, what are you doing?”

he grabs your hand like that will keep you from leaving. “i’m sorry.” his eyes hold genuine apology in them, and it makes you feel bad for reacting so strongly.

you can’t even believe the words you’re about to say. “did you just try to kiss me?”

he’s quiet for a moment like he doesn’t know how to respond. “would it be such a bad thing?”

he’s pulling at your heartstrings. you bring yourself closer to him again, pitying him so bad all of a sudden. “no, it’s just—we’re friends. just friends.” you don’t really know what’s happening right now. you never would have thought you’d have to have this conversation with taehyun.

your heart is half-bleeding when you see him pout. you almost want to grab his face and peck his lips just to comfort him. he does look awfully kissable right now.

“you don’t like me?” he asks in a small voice. you have to stop yourself from cooing at him.

“i do like you. you’re my best friend.”

“just your best friend?” you blink at him, not knowing what he wants you to say. he continues, “well, you’re the most important person in my life.”

your heart is beating rapidly, you’re a little scared that taehyun might feel it through the mattress. he can’t be serious. was he drinking earlier?

his face doesn’t falter. he holds no playfulness in his eyes; he’s completely serious. if you weren’t laying down, you might’ve passed out.

“thank you,” you say, because you don’t know what else to do.

“you’re the most important person, and i really want to kiss you.” his gaze is so intense. the only feeling you can discern within yourself is shock.

“why are you doing this so suddenly?” you ask, eyes darting between his.

“i don’t know. i couldn’t help it.” he squeezes your hand desperately, like a reminder that he’s still waiting for your answer.

you gulp. “y-you can kiss me,” you permiss.

“really?” his eyes are shining with hope now. you can’t say no to that.

you nod, and suddenly his hand is in your hair and his lips are on yours. he kisses you much sweeter than you expected, soft lips capturing yours in an easy, unrushed rhythm. your hand falls onto his arm, grounding you to reality and keeping you from slipping away.

you’ve thought about this before, but never did you think this would happen. every time you thought about kissing taehyun, you imagined the two of you drunk and stupid, foolish and impulsive. you never even considered it a possibility that you’d agree to this sober and sound of mind. maybe you like taehyun more than you thought.

he is hot, and you’ve always thought that, but you don’t think you ever wanted him before. so the feeling growing between your legs is frighteningly new—you realize with a great sense of horror that you’re getting wet, and it’s because of taehyun. what the fuck. what the fuck.

“what the fuck,” you say breathlessly, pulling away from the kiss as taehyun attaches his mouth to your neck. “fuck, taehyun. what are we doing?” you tangle your hand in his hair as he laves his tongue over a spot he just sucked. his hands go up your shirt, clinging onto your waist.

“i don’t know,” he answers, just as out of breath, just as needy. he hovers over you now, breathing hotly against your skin, looking up at you as his teeth catch the collar of your shirt. the sight sends a rush of arousal to your core.

he pushes your shirt up just enough to expose your stomach and nothing more. even that feels raunchy, especially when he dives down to lick a stripe up your skin. you tremble as he gets his tongue familiar with your flesh, and he eventually has to hold your hips down to stop you from moving.

you’re biting your tongue to hold back your whines, but you can’t handle the heat that keeps growing between your legs. you don’t know why you’re so soaked, you’ve never been so affected by such little things. why does it feel so much hotter when it’s taehyun doing it?

you gasp when he takes your shorts and panties between his teeth, pulling them back so they can snap against your skin. you can’t hold back your whine this time, and the noise seems to encourage taehyun, because he brings a finger to your waistband to replicate the action again.

“taehyun,” you moan, hands gripping the sheets. you don’t know why you’re so sensitive suddenly, it’s like you feel everything times a million with him. he hasn’t even touched you anywhere that would elicit this reaction.

his mouth is on your thighs now, nibbling and licking the skin, moving between the two like he can’t get enough. he keeps his hands busy, too, massaging the back of your thighs. you use all the control you have left in your body to not let your hips buck into him. it’s an incredibly hard task.

you don’t know how much time passes like this—enough to drive you insane, to have you spiraling and at risk of losing your mind. you might start crying if taehyun doesn’t just take care of you at this point. you don’t know how to ask for it. you don’t want to ask for it. you just want him to know, to read your mind, to fuck you mind-numbingly good and just get it over with.

your whines are pathetic at this point, and taehyun has still yet to take mercy on you. you must be so wet that he can smell it through your shorts, you might even be leaking through your shorts. there’s no way he doesn’t know that he’s torturing you.

“taehyun, please!” you cry out, hand tangling in his hair. he finally gives your thighs a break, pulling his head up so he can look at you. god, even he looks delirious. his eyes are blown out with lust, mouth hung open as he catches his breath.

“what do you need?” he asks, but he seems to have a pretty good idea because his hand cups your clothed cunt. the reaction that pulls from you is embarrassing—your whole body jolts as you moan out, and taehyun has to steady you with a hand on your hip as he grinds his hand against your center.

“i need you, please,” you beg, legs shaking and closing around his hand. that doesn’t stop him, though; he still keeps rubbing deep against your cunt, watching you in amazement.

“yeah? fuck, you’re gonna cum for me?” he asks.

you shake your head violently. “no, please, wanna cum on your cock, tear me open—ah, taehyun!” you don’t want to cum like this, but he seems more than determined to push you over the edge already.

“wanna see you ruin your panties, cutie.” he kisses your navel and holds your hip down with more force as you start trying to wiggle away. your back arches, and you want to run away from the feeling so bad, but taehyun won’t let you. your moans get high pitched and whiny, stomach tensing up as your orgasm nears.

“tyunnie, oh my god, please!” you don’t even know what you’re begging for, but your body can’t stop shaking and it’s all taehyun’s fault. he soothes you with some heated kisses to your waist.

“soak my hand, come on, drench me.” there’s a tone of command in his voice, and he moves more frantically against you now. you think a tear actually slips from your eye as you finally cum, letting your orgasm hit you after trying to run away from it for so long. taehyun’s spewing out praises that you only half pay attention to, but they’re all something along the lines of just like that, did so well, good job.

taehyun takes his hand off you and peels your legs open, staring proudly at the dark mark on your core. you’d shut your legs if you had the energy, but you’re far too mindless for that right now. you jump when he brushes a finger against your ruined shorts. your legs tremble, so weak under him.

“pretty baby looks so good cumming for me,” he says, stealing a quick kiss from you. you can barely reciprocate, still recovering from your orgasm. “can you give me one more? i’ll split you on my cock this time, fill you up so nice…” he runs his hand down your waist, then brings it to your face and pats your cheek lightly to bring your attention to him. “hm? will you?”

you’re too far gone to even consider the consequences. all you can think about is how bad you want to feel his cock stretching out your walls. you’re dripping with arousal, he could slip right in. you ache for it.

“need it, tyunnie,” you say, grabbing desperately onto his shoulders. he huffs out a laugh and gets his dick out of his pants, kissing you deeply as he does so. he strokes himself a few times, and you spread your legs wider, dying for him to just rip off your clothes and fuck you already.

he’s slow and teasing as he pulls your shorts and panties down your legs, smirking at how you squirm and try to kick the clothes off to get this over with faster. he bites his lip when he sees your juicy folds, bringing two fingers to your cunt to separate the lips, watching your pathetic hole flutter with need.

“isn’t that pretty?” he says, circling a finger against your entrance. you can’t control the way your hips start bucking against his finger, instinctively trying to bury him inside your warm walls. you’ll go fucking crazy if he doesn’t fill you up soon.

“fill me up, i’m dying, i can’t even think straight,” you babble, hips rolling up against the finger he keeps running down your slit. you can’t handle any more teasing. your eyes sting. “don’t make me cry for it,” you plead. you even sound pitiful to yourself.

“poor thing,” taehyun coos, finally taking mercy on you. you moan when you see him stroking his dick, getting himself ready to fuck you. “are you on birth control?”

“no,” you answer. “do you have a condom?”

“no, fuck. can i pull out?” he gathers your arousal on his dick as he waits for your answer, sliding his tip through your folds. “i promise i will. i promise, seriously. i just need to fuck you.”

your head’s spinning, and you know you shouldn’t let this happen, but fuck, you need it too. “yes, just fuck me already,” you cave, arching your back invitingly.

taehyun moans as he starts pushing the head of his cock into your hole. you can’t believe how sexy he looks, and how you’ve never thought to fuck him before. you’ll never be able to go back to normal after this—you don’t even know if you’ll be able to fuck another man after this. taehyun’s ruining you.

“so fucking tight, shit. i’m not your first, am i?” he grunts out as he pushes in another couple inches. you wince at the stretch.

“n-no. i slept with a couple other guys before,” you answer, gasping when he nearly bottoms out in one slow thrust.

“you don’t have to sleep with other men again. just come to me. baby, fuck, you’re squeezing me. relax.” you try to stop your walls from clamping down around him, but you’re so turned on you just can’t help it. he hisses and brings his forehead to your shoulder, pushing forward the last bit and holding your legs open so he can press his hips flush against yours. you both sigh out at the feeling, needing a minute to adjust.

taehyun growls when he feels your walls continue to clench around him. “i’m sorry,” you apologize, not knowing how to control it for him.

“i’ll fucking bust inside you if you keep doing that,” he warns, pulling out just a couple inches and ramming himself back in. you cry, feeling so deliciously full, it’s almost overwhelming.

he continues thrusting into you shallowly, never pulling out more than halfway, letting you take him deep inside your cunt. “oh my god, don’t stop,” you urge, nails digging into his neck and shoulders.

“fuck, i’m not,” he promises breathlessly, fucking you a little faster as he leans down to kiss you. this kiss is much more messy than it is sweet—more tongue and teeth than anything else. you let him claim your mouth, his tongue licking into you like it belongs there. his hand inch up until they’re at your hips, positioning them up a bit so he can hit a better spot inside you. it leaves you whimpering nonstop into his mouth, gasping pathetically when his pelvis grinds against your clit.

“i’m not gonna last,” you say, staring at him with big, watery eyes. he looks like he wants to eat you alive.

“then cum for me, cream my cock, show me how much you love my dick,” he grunts out, moving with reinvigoration. you can barely catch your breath, the pleasure surmounting and becoming too much, and your climax blinds you with bliss as sweet relief hits you again.

“nngh! so good! you’re so good!” you cry out, not even knowing if your words are comprehensible from how intertwined they are with your moans.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” he warns, pulling out of you just in time to spill his seed across your stomach and thighs. his noises are sinful, even through his bitten lip, and you try to memorize everything about this moment. you seriously think your life just changed.

his chest heaves as he regains his breath, staring at the mess he made on your skin. his eyes dart down to your soaked center, your thighs a mess of his cum and your juices. you hope reality never hits you. you want to live in this bliss forever.

“we have to do this again,” taehyun says, soothing his hands down your thighs. “i’m not letting you go after that.” he laughs when he says it, but you think he’s being serious.

“this was probably really stupid,” you say, looking down at the mess you made. taehyun still looks insanely hot. you don’t think you’re going to get over this.

“stupid? this was like, the best thing i’ve ever done,” taehyun counters with a sweet smile. “so what happens now?”

you sigh. you don’t really want to think about that part. “you go grab a towel and wipe your cum off of me,” you answer.

taehyun laughs, “yes ma’am.”

#txt x reader #taehyun x reader #taehyun smut #txt smut #txt hard hours #taehyun hard hours #delugyu drabbles

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lexawoah13 · 8 months ago

Text

I Want You

Soobin x afab reader

Synopsis: being the Halloween lover that you are you ask Soobin to dress up with you as your favourite anime couple. However after he avoids you for two weeks and forgets to dress up with you, Yeonjun steps in to make the both of you see how much you both want each other. Which results is his best friend becoming jealous and angry when anyone goes near you.

Warnings: jealously, anger, slut shaming(only slightly), lingering touches and gazes, oral, nipple play, unprotected sex (don’t do that, wrap it up, be safe), degrading talk, costume (it’s Halloween duh)

Features Soobin (of course), Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai plus a special appearance from Heesung and Sunghoon from Enhyphen.

Also if you don’t know My Dress Up Darling give it a quick search just to get an idea of what Marin looks like.

Likes, comments and reposts are always appreciated ❤️ you are all the best and I love you all so much!

My asks are always open and so is my tag list! ✌️

Enjoy

Halloween is your favourite time of the year. You embraced every second of it and lived for spooky season. You decorate your entire apartment, you bake fall and Halloween treats, you watch all of your favourite Halloween movies and of course you dress up on the big day.

Even though it wasn’t so popular in Korea, you didn’t miss out. Making the people around you celebrate with you. Including the members of Tomorrow x Together, who you work for but are also your good friends. In particular, Choi Soobin, your best friend who you essentially spend all of your free time with.

So when Soobin agreed to dress up with you this year you couldn’t be more excited. Your best friend (your incredibly sweet, nerdy and sexy best friend who you wanted to climb) agreed to be the Wakana Gojou to your Marin Kitagawa. You both love watching My Dress Up Darling together so the couple's costumes were perfect.

You picked out the perfect costume, thanks to Yeonjun’s help, adding your own little twist on Marin’s classic High School uniform, wanting Soobin to notice you.

However, after showing him the costumes, Soobin became distant. You weren’t sure why, everything seemed fine until now, chalking it up to stress for the upcoming release.

But Soobin wasn’t stressed about the comeback. He was freaking out about you in that uniform and having to be around you in it. Because like you, Soobin also wanted you. This exact scenario has played out in his head a couple of times, ending with you being bent over a desk as he fucks your brains out. So, how in the fuck is he supposed to be around you all day dressed in the same uniform and not pop a massive hard on.

Being the idiots you both are, you had no idea that the other felt the same way about you. On the other hand, everyone else did, much to their dismay at how stupid you both truly were.

Halloween comes, and Soobin still hasn’t been answering your texts or calls, you get extremely irritated.

“If he didn’t want to do it he could have just said so instead of ignoring me!” You complain to Yeonjun

“He wanted to do it, I know that. I Dunno what’s going on with him y/n I’m sorry”

“It’s alright, you didn’t do anything. I just don’t know what I did to make he act this way”

“I don’t think you did anything” Yeonjun says reassuring you, knowing exactly what’s going on with his best friend. “I think it’s just the comeback. We’re all kinda stressed, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. I just wish he would talk to me instead of cutting me off” you say solemnly

“Hey, forget Soobin! Dress up and have fun all day like you had planned! If he bails on everything, I’ll be you Halloween date” he nudges your arm and wiggles his eyebrows

Unable to resist, you smile and laugh lightly at his antics “you’re on Choi! If you ditch me though, I’m moving back to *your country*”

“I would never!” He says, holding his hand to his chest as if your words caused him serious pain.

“I know. You’re the best Junnie” you hug him

“Anything for my best girl” hugging you back and kissing your head

“So should I still dress up as Marin?”

“Yes! Just make her sexier, make Soobin regret ditching you”

“You think it’ll work?”

“Oh it will, trust me”

“Okay? So, any suggestions?”

Bringing his hand to his chin in thought, Yeonjun smirks “I have an idea”

While you are lost in the discussion of your upgraded costume with Yeonjun, you’re completely unaware that Soobin had been watching your whole conversation from right outside the room. Jealousy seething through him as he watches you laugh and talk to Yeonjun. Seeing you hug him and Yeonjun kiss the top of your head was what really got to him though. That was your thing.

Yeonjun however had known Soobin was there the whole time, his plan working out perfectly. Soobin was jealous, and you were going to look like walking sex tomorrow. If the both of you don’t end up together after tomorrow, then there’s no hope.

The next day, you walk into Hybe in full costume. Adding Yeonjun’s suggestions, tying your shirt around your waist, turning it into a crop top, hiking your skirt up a little higher to reveal just the curve of your ass, and the white thigh high socks and black converse paired with Marin’s pink contact lenses. Nothing too drastic, but enough to make it sexy.

Yeonjun was already there, wanting to give you a pep talk before Soobin arrived. They were having a photo shoot today, which was another reason for the easy costume. It didn’t require any makeup besides Gojou’s mole under his eye. That is if he even remembered to dress up…

When you enter the room Yeonjun grabs your hand raising it above your head “y/n! Fuck you look good! Give me a spin”

While you spin, Beomgyu and Taehyun enter.

Beomgyu whistles and Taehyun compliments you as well “you look great”

“Great? Fuck if she wasn’t so into Soobin I’d make a move right now!” Beomgyu compliments “you look sexy y/n. And if he doesn’t take you, I will” he winks

“Yeah, you’d have to go through me first” Yeonjun adds in

“Thanks you guys but stop, you don’t have to do that”

“Do what? I’m dead serious” Beomgyu insists, Yeonjun nodding in agreement

“You guys are ridiculous” you laugh at them

Kai walks in and sees your costume instantly recognizing it “Marin!? Y/N you look amazing! I like the additions”

“Thanks Kai!”

“So that just leaves Soobin…”

“I swear to god this man.. if he doesn’t finally fess-“ Beomgyu starts but Taehyun quickly covers his mouth

“Shut up!” He angrily whispers “that’s for him to tell her, not you!”

“True, doesn’t make it any less frustrating though. Soobin is dense as hell sometimes” Yeonjun adds

“I'm gonna start setting up so we don’t run behind! You guys feel free to do whatever!” You say to them while you set up your station at the vanity. They all head to the couch and relax. It was still 5am after all and they were working themselves to the bone.

They sit on their phones and some shut their eyes. Yeonjun notices the time and Soobin should already be here. “Anyone hear from Bin?”

“Nope” terry responds “he’s late”

“I’ll text him” Yeonjun opens their conversation which was already spammed with worried messages from the last week and a half

‘SOOBIN!

Where the fuck are you?’

‘I can’t come’

‘The fuck?’

‘I’m sorry hyung i can't’

Yeonjun mutters under his breath “this mother fucker” dailing his number

“Listen-“ Soobin answers

“NO YOU LISTEN!” Yeonjun whisper yells at him hoping you don’t hear him. “Get your sorry ass down here now before I beat the living shit out of you. I’ll bring Taehyun” threatening his leader

“Hyung you don’t understand!”

“I DO UNDERSTAND! FUCK! I’ve been sitting here looking at her and yeah I get it, it’s really hard to not wanna fuck her, not gonna lie. But Soobin I swear to god if you don’t get your ass here in the next five minutes she’s fair game!”

“Hyung n-“ Yeonjun hangs up on him

“You serious?” Beomgyu asks

“No, but he’ll be here. Speaking of, let's give him a little push, hey?”

Mischievous smirks take over Beomgyu and Yeonjun’s faces, Taehyun looking kinda scared while Kai has no idea as he peacefully sleeps.

Moments later you walk over to the 4 men on the couch, “we should probably start getting you ready. Who wants to go first?” you ask,

“I’ll go first” Taehyun pops up

“Okay come over when you're ready” you smile at him before going back to your station, gathering the products you need for him.

“Okay Tae, you’re setting the pace, make sure when he comes in your-”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll be lightly flirting. This feels wrong”

“Just turn on your big boba eyes and smile at her, that's enough to set him off”

Taehyun’s eyes widen before he turns and walks over to your station, sitting down and turning on his charm. Bright smile and big eyes looking at you with full attention, not even bothering to look at the door when he hears it open. Laughing and talking to you trying to keep your eyes from looking at Soobin to begin their plan. He’s mostly successful, you only turn to look at him for a split second, confirming it was him walking through the doors and then turning your attention back to Tae. You were mad at Soobin after all, he’s been ignoring you for weeks and you don’t even know why. What really ticks you off though, is that he didn’t end up wearing the costume after all. Confirming to you that your best friend really didn’t care about you in the way you had hoped for, and maybe not at all. So wanting to show him you were unbothered, you continued feeding into Taehyun’s weird flirty behaviour and flirted back. Leaning in a little closer than usual, laughing a little too much, hoping Soobin would notice and see you were completely unbothered.

Yeonjun leans over to Beomgyu to whisper in his ear before Soobin makes it to the couches, paused in his walk over staring at you and Taehyun flirting with each other. “You text Heesung?”

And Beomgyu nods “he bringing anyone?”

“Yep, Sunghoon.”

“Perfect” Yeonjun sits back, smiling that his plan is coming to fruition. Chirping out to Soobin to bring him over “you’re late”

Soobin looks over his shoulder at him, then back at you, then at Yeonjun before making his way to the couch, looking at you over his shoulder the whole time.

“What is Taehyun doing?” he asks concerned

“What do you mean?” Kai asks, he was quickly filled in on the plan. Now playing along with his role.

“He’s, I donno... He’s flirting with Y/N”

“How? He seems normal to me..” Beomgyu taunts

“No he definitely is. He’s using his full endearing charm on her right now. Look, I don't think his eyes could get any bigger and he won’t even blink. The fuck is going on I didn’t even think he thought of her like that?” Soobin’s tone increased in anger as he analysed you two.

“I think you’re overreacting Soob” Kai says “He’s just being himself.”

“Pft. yeah. Right. Sure.” he huffs and plops down on the couch next to Yeonjun, folding his arms and pouting

“If you would have told her how you felt already this wouldn’t be happening right now.” Yeonjun teases.

Soobin shoots him a look of disgust because he knows he’s right. He then returns his sights to you, noticing Taehyun holding you by your hand and lingering his fingers on yours, before coming over to sit down with his members. “Huning she’s ready for you” he says before sitting down next to him.

“Thanks Hyung” Kai smiles and basically skips over to you, giving you a huge hug, lifting you up and making you laugh “Kai stop!”

Soobin immediately scowls and turns to Taehyun, asking “what the fuck was that?”

“Hi to you too Soobin. What are you talking about?” He asks with just as much bite

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. What was that with Y/N?”

“Nothing? We were talking and stuff like we usually do..?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit you had your cute, and charming Taehyun act on with your big ass eyes and smile.” Soobin is seething, and Beomgyu and Yeonjun can’t help but smirk at how well this was working already, knowing it’s only gonna get worse.

“Soobin, you need to chill. You’re being paranoid. I wasn’t doing shit. You’re just jealous because she looks incredible right now, and you haven’t done anything about it yet.” Taehyun spits the facts at him, looking dead into his eyes before sitting back and crossing his arms knowing he won that argument. Even if Soobin was right and he was flirting with you.

Soobin can only sulk in annoyance at the truth. Looking over he sees you and Kai laughing about god knows what. But you were always like that with him. Maybe he was just over reacting. Starting to settle down a bit, the door shoots open revealing two people he definitely didn’t want seeing you in that outfit.

“Heesung, Sunghoon, what's up!?” Beomgyu calls out.

You and Kai both look at them, you smile and wave at them to greet them “hey!”

Just as Beomgyu asked them to, the Enhyphen members totally ignore them sitting on the couch, and walk directly over to you, even ignoring Kai.

Heesung leans against the vanity enclosing you between the chair, Sunghoon and himself. Putting on his best seductive face and says “Hi Y/N. You look nice all dressed up today”

You laugh at him and tuck a loose hair behind your ear acting shy “Really? You think so Hee?”

“Mmhmm. You look real good”

“Yeah you look incredible y/n” Sunghoon says, running his hand along your arm before you enclose him in a hug

“Thanks Hoonie”

You and Sunghoon were actually friends outside of work, much to Soobin’s dismay. Park Sunghoon was prince level gorgeous and Soobin knew that. He was always jealous of Sunghoon because he knew if Sunghoon asked, you would be his and honestly Soobin couldn’t blame you. If Sunghoon asked Soobin to date him, he’s pretty sure even he would say yes. So when you oh so happily hug him as his hands drift lower and lower down your back, squeezing you in tight, Soobin’s knuckles turn white from how tight he’s clenching his fists.

“Hoonie?” He asks in disgust “Thanks Hoonie” mimicking your voice under his breath

“Hmm? What was that?” Yeonjun asks hearing fully what he said

“nothing“ Soobin huffs, his legs shaking up and down fastly in annoyance.

“Sure” Yeonjun teases before he stands up and walks over to their visitors, Beomgyu and Taehyun right behind him. “Can’t be rude”

“Tcht” Soobin scoffed again, reluctantly standing up. Beomgyu and Yeonjun subtly fist bumping.

Soobin just watches in disgust as Heesung and Sunghoon’s eyes never leave you. Scanning your body up and down when you're not looking, then looking oh so intently at your eyes and lips when you were talking to them. Soobin has indents from his nails in his palms from trying to hold back his anger. Everyone’s circled around you while you work, taking in and ogling your body as you slightly bend over to attend to Kai’s makeup. Bending over causes your skirt to rise even more, revealing the curve of your ass. Soobin wants to just carry you away and hide you from everyone's sight. Keeping you all to himself

“Alright Kai you’re all done my sweet”

“Thanks y/n”

“Who’s next?” You ask turning around and smiling, bumping into Yeonjun who’s right there

“Me” he says, keeping eye contact while you both turn around until he’s sitting in the chair.

“I was gonna ask for a turn” Heesung laughs

“And what could I ever do with your pretty face Hee?” You tease, grabbing his chin and shaking his head slightly, making him blush unexpectedly.

“Maybe we should request you for our next shoot, you are are really good Y/N” Sunghoon suggests

“Yes, you totally should! I’d love to work with you guys at least once!” You excitedly respond

“Awesome I’ll tell our manager to request you then!”

“Hey hey hey! No one said you could steal our makeup artist. She’s ours!” Beomgyu pipes up

“Hey she said she would so maybe she needs a new group that will treat her right” Sunghoon winks, taking your hand and kissing it

“Oh my god Hoon stop” you giggle ”My txt boys treat me just right thank you. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t work with you though” blowing him a smooch of appreciation

“Say the word pretty and we will take you in a heartbeat”

The flirting with Sunghoon has become too much and Soobin has to leave the room before he punches his stupidly pretty perfect face in.

“Hey! Where are you going Hyung?” Kai asks noticing him leave

“To piss” he snaps back. His tone not being missed by anyone, Kai follows after him

“Hyung!” Kai has to run to catch up to him “Soobin wait up!”

Soobin turns and snaps at him “what do you want?!”

“Woah what is wrong with you? I’m just checking on you”

Soobin feels bad and releases a loud exhale “it’s just… Ughh fuck everyone is all over y/n and I’m gonna punch someone” rubbing his hands down his face

“So doesn’t that tell you everything? Just tell her how you feel! God Soobin, if you’re that jealous of everyone around her you clearly love her. Tell her before she goes with someone else” Kai states sincerely

“But-“

“But what? You don’t think she likes you back? Soobin.. UGHH-“ Kai says in annoyance “for fucks sake she’s literally dressed as Marin Kitagawa right now. Why do you think that is?”

“Did you just curse?”

“Yeah I curse when I’m extremely frustrated FOCUS!”

“Cause she like My Dress Up Darling” he says completely clueless

Throwing his arms up and head back, Kai almost screams, holding it in with tight lips.

“Hyung you have to be the densest person I know” patting him on his shoulder before he turns to walk back to the room.

“The hell does that mean?”

Exhaling deeply, Kai turns back to him “if you think she likes that anime just because it’s “good”, you truly are an idiot. She likes it so much ‘cause she watches it with you. And how similar you both are to Marin and Gojou.”

“What are you talking about?” Soobin asks literally having no idea what Kai is talking about.

“Figure it out your fucking self!” Waking away

Soobin is left alone, thinking over what Kai said. Not piecing any of it together. Sure Gojou likes Marin and he likes you but… making the most literal assumption about the characters, he can only think he doesn’t make clothes and you don’t cosplay. Not thinking that you could ever like him the way Marin likes Gojou.

He goes to the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face trying to cool his temper. Taking deep breaths the whole way back before he enters, and sees Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Heesung and Sunghoon closely huddled around you. Yeonjun leaning forward gliding his fingers up and down your exposed thighs to the hem of your skirt.

Immediately returning to his enraged, jealous self as you look over to him with not a bit of emotion on your face. Only to return to Yeonjun with the largest smile on your face at something he said, applying something to his lips.

Sunghoon places his hand low on your back as he pretends to lean in to observe your work.

“Kay Junnie you’re all done! Beomgyu your turn”

“Hey y/n can you give me some of that too?” Heesung asks, moving a piece of hair from your shoulder, twirling it around his finger.

“What? The lip balm? You literally have it”

“Yeah but I don’t have it on me and my lips are feeling dry” he playfully pouts

“Yeah, mine too, would you mind? Please?” Sunghoon asks sweetly

“Umm.. yeah sure” you grab your lip applicators and turn to Heesung, who’s sitting on the vanity to come to your height. Parting his lips, looking into your pink coloured eyes with his seductive gaze. Honestly making you lose your breath for a minute. You apply the balm to his lips making them even plumper and more enticing than before. You turn to sunghoon “Hoon can you come a bit lower? I can’t really reach”

“No worries pretty, I got you” grabbing your waist to steady you as you raise up on your tiptoes to reach his plump lips. Gazing into his eyes once again hitching your breath. These men were doing something to your head and you were starting to lose your composure. diverting your eyes back to his lips, you swipe the last of the balm on his lips. Sunghoon rubs them together before smiling his pointy canine smile simply saying “thanks pretty” lowering you to be flat on your feet.

“N-no problem” you stutter and turn to Beomgyu “ready Gyu?”

“Never been more ready y/n” smiling while gazing into your eyes

“Oookaayy?” You draw out the word. Wondering what is going on.

Yeonjun leans in on the side opposite of Soobin staring at you, making sure he would see, and whispers in your ear sensing your confusion “just go with it” looking at him with confusion he winks at you, and you just nod.

You move to start applying makeup to Beomgyu’s face, but Heesung cuts in “Hey, we’re gonna head out. Our schedule starts soon.”

“Oh already? It was great to see you, Hee!” you give him a hug and he squeezes you tightly around your waist, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Great to see you to Y/N! I’m serious about you working with us though”

“Then make it happen” you wink, turning to Sunghoon “Bye Hoonie, it was so good to see you” giving him a hug as well, but Sunghoon lifts you off the ground spinning while he holds you tight. Lifting you above his face saying “Good to see you too, Pretty. Let's hang out soon, yeah?” smiling as he lowers you back to the ground.

“Yeah, that would be great! I miss you”

“I miss you to y/n. Catch up over dinner?”

“Deal” you smile. Your hand lingers in his and Sunghoon brings it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on it before letting go and turning to walk away.

“Later guys!”

“See you on league later?” Beomgyu asks

“Definitely! Later” Heesung raises his hand in a goodbye before walking past Soobin, bumping into his shoulder.

Sunghoon walks right behind him, and looks at Soobin before letting out a small chuckle, seeing the rage on his face.

You return to your job, and begin on Gyu. Laughing and talking the whole time as usual. But knowing how angry Soobin is you start to get concerned as you watch him storm over to the drink table.

“What is going on with him?” You whisper, asking Beomgyu.

Leaning forward, he whispers “Donno, but he’ll get over it” he begins to run his fingers along the top of your thigh high socks, dipping his fingers just underneath, nestled between your skin and sock. Gently gliding across your skin as he continues his mindless act. This wasn’t anything new for Beomgyu. He tends to mindlessly do this to everyone who has some sort of exposed skin but, you can tell something is different from the way he is looking at you. But trusting Yeonjun you just go with it, knowing they wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.

As Soobin walks past you he stops dead in his tracks, watching Beomgyu’s hands ghost over your exposed thighs. You could practically see the steam coming from his ears.

The other three men on the couch started to get concerned, with Kai asking “you guys sure this is okay? He might murder Beomgyu”

“I’ve never seen Soobin look so angry,” Taehyun added. That is until Beomgyu looks over at Soobin while you grab a product from the table and gives him Soobin a shit eating grin.

“I take that back! Now I’ve never seen him look so angry” Kai stands up to pull Soobin to the couch “hyung, breathe.”

“I’ll breathe after I fucking kill him” Soobin seethes

“No you won’t! Just calm down”

“Calm down?! Calm down? Are you serious right now? I’ve been watching the fucking lot of you touch and flirt with her all day! You’re all lucky I haven’t snapped yet! But now, now he dies” he starts move but Taehyun grabs him and shoves him onto the couch

“Calm down” Taehyun demands as he holds Soobin on the couch.

“Fuck off and let me go”

“No you need to calm down”

“Like fuck”

“You’re gonna scare her so calm down!”

“What’s going on!?” You cut them off, concern evident in your voice

Soobin instantly freezes enough for Taehyun to let go of him.

Yeonjun speaks up “nothing! Soobin is just a little… sensitive today”

“Everyone nods except Soobin who can’t take his eyes off of you. Jealousy and anger are still very present inside him.

”okay… well I’m ready for you Soobin”

“Everyone out” Soobin calmly demands

“What?” Yeonjun asks

“EVERYONE OUT!” The leader yells, shocking everyone “NOW!”

They all stand to leave but not before telling you they won’t be far if you need them. Questioning if they pushed him too far.

“Woah Soobin, what’s up?”

“What’s up?” He laughs manically “what’s up!? Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Seriously, what is going on with you right now?”

He stands up leaving no room between your bodies, looking down at you “you! You and everyone all over you. This is what you wanted right? everyone’s attention? Wearing this fucking excuse for a costume, you’re basically asking for it.”

“EXCUSE ME?!” You raise your voice at him, livid at his accusations, taking a step backwards.

“Oh like you don’t fucking know. Hiking up your skirt, leaving your buttons undone, and adding those fucking thigh high socks. It’s a far cry from Marin’s uniform! Looks like you clearly after something” spitting his words at you in anger he tried to get closer but you continue to step backwards until you hit the wall behind you. Caging you in, he raises his arms to rest on either side of your head.

“Choi Soobin I know you’re not slut shaming me right now over a fucking costume!” You yell

“Damn right I am y/n! What the actual fuck were you thinking?”

“Why the fuck does it matter to you Soobin!? what I do is none of your business! Besides you haven’t even talked to me in the last two weeks!”

“I’m your fucking friend and I’m trying to look out for you!”

“No your just jealous because other people noticed me and had enough balls to actually make a move”

“I know what they’re like Y/N they’d just use you for their fun and then everything would be fucking ruined”

“WHAT IF I WANT TO BE USED SOOBIN? HUH? Ever think of that? Ever think I wanna be fucked?”

“GO FUCK THEM THEN!”

“You’re actually ridiculous you know that” scoffing at him

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean y/n?”

“Since you think you know everything I actually wore this for YOU. I thought I’d try to make you fucking notice me for once. We were actually supposed to dress up as Marin and Gojou together, but you forgot about that! I wanted to dress up together so maybe once you would actually see me as more than your friend. Someone you’d like to fuck. So no Soobin I didn’t do this to randomly fuck someone or for anyone else to notice me. I WANTED YOU!” Anger and hurt flow through your words at everything he’s just said to you, slamming your hands into his chest.

Soobin freezes, staring at you in shock as all the anger starts to fade. His voice barely audible as he asks “what?”

You just stare back at him, your eyes darting between his as you try to gauge what he’s thinking right now. “I want you to notice me. I want you Soobin” almost on the verge of tears but calmly telling him how you feel.

Soobin’s eyebrows are furrowed in confusion and his eyes are wide, as his mouth hangs open. His brain runs blank of words to say. Just repeating your last words over and over again. Silence hanging between you for too long and you waver.

“I get it, you don’t see me that way. I just thought I’d just take a chance… forget what just happened and that I said anything. Sit down, I have to do your makeup” you side step under one of his arms, removing yourself from the cage his arms enclosed you in. Walking to your makeup station, grabbing your brush belt and getting the products for his application. Busying yourself to stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks.

He stands there. Still and not moving, leaning against the wall, just stuck in a loop repeating the words you said over and over. But the longer he stands there the harder your words hit him. He finally knows you want him the way he wants you.

“Soobin! Please just forget everything and let me do this. You’re gonna be late” continuing to organize the things you will need.

Making up his mind, Soobin turns, and takes long strides toward you.

“Soobin please-“ as you turn around he crashes his lips into yours cradling you face in his hands

“Soobin- what- stop” you make out between kisses

“Shut up” he demands, picking you up by your plush thighs, walking to the mirror and sitting you on the desk. Not once stopping his attack. His hands roam your thighs and hips, squeezing and caressing as he pleases.

Migrating his kissing down your neck, needing to taste more of you.

“Soob- what.. mmhmm- what are you doing?” barely making out the words as your brain fogs with desire.

“Noticing you, like I have been since I fucking met you” he quickly says before attaching back onto your neck.

“Wha-“

Groaning, he grips your hair at the base of your neck, tugging back to make you look up into his eyes, “I noticed you. I notice you the second our eyes lock, and everytime you’re remotely near me. I’ve always wanted you Y/N. That's never been a question” Soobin states, eyes locked on yours leaving no room for doubt.

“Well you’ve never shown it!” you snap, angry again because how has he been able to hide this from you for so long.

“I didn’t think you wanted me. I’m not going to pressure you into doing something you don’t want. Especially if it meant losing you and not having you at all.”

“Soobin I-”

“I’ve always wanted you Y/N” he cuts you off and pushes his hips into yours. Showing you how much he means it, grinding his hardened cock against your soaked core. Both of you are panting heavy trying to catch your breath, looking at one another, darting between your eyes and lips.

You breathlessly whisper “then take me”

Soobin lips crash back onto yours before the final syllable leaves them. The kiss is heated, messy, and all over the place. Teeth clash as your tongues fight for dominance. Months of built up sexual tension between you two, finally being released in the most heated way possible. Both wanting more as your hands roam each other’s bodies, pulling on the fabric covering your skin, needing as much contact as possible.

Soobin makes quick work of your shirt, untying the bottom and ripping open the only button you had fastened, eliciting a shocked gasp from you.

Chuckling he says “you’ll be fine, you barely had it on anyways” kissing your collarbone

“That a problem for you?”

“Only when others can see you” Biting your skin to punctuate his statement. Leaving a purple mark in its place.

“Jealous are we?” You taunt

Coming back to eye level he states “I don’t like people touching what's mine”

“And I’m yours?” you slyly question

“You are now” he says, pulling your bra down to reveal your breasts, groping them with his large palms. “You’re mine Y/N” pinching your nipples when he says your name, claiming your lips with his. You start grabbing at his clothes, pulling his loosely tucked shirt out of his pants, sliding your hands underneath to feel his skin. Running your hands along his abs and slim waist isn’t enough for you, “off” “off now” you whimper during the short break of kissing. But he doesn’t hear you, continuing to kiss you roughly. Pushing him back off of you, seeing the hunger in each other's eyes you command him “take off your shirt”. The fabric is pulled over his head and on the floor in a split second, and he tries to resume his previous work. But you stop him, holding out your hand to his chest. “Lemme see you”

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, but it’s different. Watching his chest rise and fall quickly, the light sheen of sweat coating his skin. His abs flex as he tries to control himself, allowing you to see what you want. As you admire him you reach around your back, quickly undoing your bra and throwing it at him. Leaning back, you tilt your head and bite your lower lip, beckoning him to come to you as you curl your index finger in.

“Fuck you’re so hot” pouncing back on you as fast as he can. Hands enveloping your bare chest, as his lips attach to your neck, wanting to cover you in marks. Your fingers tangle in his hair as your head falls back, your moans and whimpers leading him further and further down your torso, a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses left in his wake. One he meets your navel, he looks up at you, giving your approval with a slight nod. His palms ride up your thighs until he reaches your skirt, flipping it up to show your soaked core. Your white panties basically see through from your slick, clinging to your folds.

“Oh fuck you’re soaked baby. Need to taste.." His words trail off as he leans in and firmly glides his tongue over your heat through your panties. A low groan sounds from deep in his chest, savouring the sweet taste of you on his tongue. Pushing the tip of his tongue against your folds, running it up and down excruciatingly slowly. You’re saccharine moans fueling him to tease you even more, slowly driving you crazy.

“Soonin please” you plead

“Hmmm?” he hums against your still covered core, the slight vibration ringing through your clit that he’s currently attending to.

“More please bin! Please” you plead again, irritation starting to build inside you. It felt good but you wanted more, you wanted to feel his tongue on you.

He ignores you, content where he is. Building speed but still over your drenched garment.

You still call to him, wanting more from him “Bin.” “Bin please” “more” “fuck Soobin” “SOOBIN!”

Irritation runs hot through your body, needing to punish him for his neglect and his actions earlier. He wants to be a brat, so be it.

You glide your fingers through his hair on the top of his head, starting soft and almost petting him leaving no room to suspect anything from you. When you feel he’s relaxed enough, you grip his hair harshly, pulling a loud hiss from him, and pull him off you.

“What the fuck?” he barks at you

“You don’t listen” scolding him while still pulling his hair firmly, knowing it hurts. “If you listened I'd be coming on your face right now, but you had to be a greedy brat.” You push your panties to the side with your free hand and start circling your clit while his face is mere inches away. Eyes glued to your fingers while you please yourself “‘m sorry, please let go baby, please” weakly begging without ever looking at your face

“I don’t think so” bringing his face closer but just out of reach of his tongue being able to touch you. “That's a pathetic excuse for an apology” you glide your fingers down and plunge your middle and ring fingers inside your pulsing hole. Sinfully moaning at how good it feels. Taking them out you show him how wet they are “see Binnie. Could have been you instead but, you had to be a greedy brat” returning to rub your clit in front of him.

Whining he apologizes again “oh fuck, Y/N i’m so sorry, let me taste you again. Please!”

“Hmmm, i donno.. I feel pretty good right now, maybe I don't need you” moaning as you speed up your fingers.

“PLEASE Y/N! Won't do it again please! Wanna make you cum.” his eyes finally come up to yours and they’re watering as if he might actually cry if he watches you cum by yourself and not because of him. Without uttering a word you pull his hair crashing his face back into your cunt. The most beautiful moan rips from Soobin’s chest when he tastes your bare skin. His tongue immediately finding your clit, wanting to make you cum. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, giving even more access to you and slides your panties off “these need to go” he exhales, still captivated by your bare pussy in front of him. Quickly returning to your heat, his tongue prods at your dripping opening, devouring every last drop he can find before plunging the muscle in. Your grip tightens on his hair, pulling him in even more, moaning as he finally gives you what you want.

“Good boy Binnie” you praise, unknowing what that would do to him. Soobin’s eyes roll into the back of his head, his deep groans sending pleasure through you as his tongue is still inside you. His already hard cock gets even harder, twitching against his pants, begging to be freed. Soobin replaces his tongue with three long fingers, finding the perfect rhythm against your spongy spot while deliciously stretching you. His mouth attached to your clit, sucking the sensitive nub relentlessly. Wanting to hear those words come from your mouth again he’s willing to do anything.

Your words are almost incoherent through you moaning “Oh fuck Bin! So good-” “oh fuck don’t stop” and he has no intention of stopping until you cum, even if he stops breathing. He would love nothing more than to die this deep in your pussy. “Aghh- Fuck- mm- Gonna- gonna cum” Light headed, Soobin doesn’t stop, craving your orgasm just as much as you were. With one final high pitched moan, you come undone. Your juices cover soobin’s fingers, dripping down his hand, while your essence covers his face. Sucking and licking up every last drop of you until you're clean, sucking off what’s left on his fingers and hand. Looking up and smiling at you as he does so “mmm all clean”

You can’t help but compliment him “good boy”

His face and chest flush deep red, as his breathing stops. You swear you can see the chill run down his spine. “You like that, Binnie? When will I call you a ‘good boy’?

He nods stiffly, until the can verbally assure you “yes”

“Well, how about my good boy come over here and get his treat?” You bring both of your feet to the top of the desk, keeping your legs open, spreading your folds with your fingers to show him your needy hole.

“Fuck” he exhales as he comes to you, cock throbbing to be inside you already. He quickly undoes the button on his pants, along with the zipper, dropping them to his ankles. Before removing his briefs he looks at you, making sure this is what you want.

Sitting up and tilting your head to the side you can’t help but smile at him, a slight chuckle behind your question “what's wrong Binnie?”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he hesitantly asks, if you say no he might die. He’s not sure he can live after this if you say no.

“Do you want this Bin?” you question back, smiling kindly at him as you sit up. Radiating kindness in your eyes, you reach for his hands.

“Fuck i’ve never wanted anything more in my life Y/N” he avoids your hands, insteading holding your head to his. Hoping you can feel how sincere he is.

“Soobin, I want this. I want you. I want you to fuck me. Right here. Right now.” your hands reach for the waistband of his underwear, hooking your fingers around it and pulling them down as you say against his lips “I want you to fuck me like I’ve always wanted” ending the sentence with a kiss to his lips as you let his briefs fall around his ankles with his pants, fully exposing his member to the cold air surrounding you. Parting from his lips, you look down to finally see the dick you’ve fantasized about for so long. “Holy fuck” you gasp under your breath, wrapping your fist around his thick shaft. “Bin you’re huge..” your voice drifts off as you oggle him, stroking him up and down, rubbing your thumb over his precum covered head. You let a drop of your spit fall from your mouth, using it to lubricate your hand.

“Mmm fuck- alright enough of that!” Soobin removes your hand from his member, pushing you to your back and aligning himself with you. “You ready love?” lightly pushing his tip against your opening.

“God yes Soobin please!” You whine desperate for him to be inside you.

“Thank god! I don’t think I can hold back any longER” gliding past your opening, slowly sheathing himself fully inside you. Rubbing every nerve along your sensitive walls.

Both of you moaning in harmony, finally together as you both fantasized about. Soobin’s cock was not for the weak. It reached so deep inside you, you could see it bulge through your stomach, while his girth stretched you so sinfully good that tears came to your eyes.

“you okay Y/N?” Soobin asks, concerned after seeing the wetness on your lashes.

“”M good Binnie, So fuckkingg good” you moan in response

“Mmkay pretty, Can I move then?” he chuckles lightly at how fucked you are right now

“Please. Fuck Binnie please” you beg

Sliding his hips back you both hiss in pleasure. Pulling back until his tip is all that remains inside you, he thrusts back into you.

“UGhh Bin” his hips pick up speed, his tip pressing against your cervix with every thrust.

“Fuck baby you feel so good”

“Fill me-uuughh- so good”

“Perfect pussy. So perfect. My pussy all mine” Soobin massages your breast with his hand, his other gripping tightly onto your hip. Praises are spit out in between the erotic sounds being made.

“Close Bin- fuck i’m so close”

“Me to baby me to”

“Want you to cum inside” You can feel Soobin’s cock twitch inside you, causing you to clench around him.

“Oh fuck!’ He moans “you serious Y/N?”

“Yes! Want your cum Soo-BIN” your voice hitches as his hips harshly slap into yours.

“Want my cum? Want me to fill your pretty pussy?” His voice takes a different tone, sounding deeper and sexy, dominant. Feeling your clench around him as he spoke to you this way pushed him further. Pulling out, he flips you around, pushing back in, his hips slap against your ass a couple of times before he bends forward. He lifts your leg up onto the desk, resting your weight on your knee while he wraps his long arms around your chest and stomach lifting you up. You can see everything. You’re smudged lipstick, black smudges of mascara, his messy hair pushed off of his forehead as he smirks at you. The way his fingers are working quick circles around your clit while the other is toying with your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple. But your eyes are locked lower on the mirror. Locked on the sight of Soobin’s cock sliding in and out of you. The visual has you shaking in his arms, drooling at how good his cook looks filling you, anticipating what it will look like when his cum is shooting inside you, dripping out when he pulls out of your throbbing cunt.

“Look how sexy you are, Y/N. See how well you take my cock baby?”

“So gooood-”

“My pretty girl can’t talk? My cock making you stupid?”

“Mmhmm” you whine “wan- wanna cum”

“You wanna cum baby? Wanna cream all over my cock?” he teases, biting your neck. You can only moan in response. “I’ll take that as a yes” he chuckles against your skin, before whispering “Cum for me Y/N” giving you one last deep thrust to push against your sweet spot, and you crumble. The band inside you snaps, hard, pink coloured eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clench around his length as your cum coats him.

“Good job baby. So good for me” he praises you, kissing your shoulder as he works you through the last ripples of your orgasm. Completely spent, your head falls back against his shoulder, only being held up by Soobin’s arms wrapped around you.

“Holy fuck bin” you breathlessly say

He chuckles “what?” starting to slowly glide into you again

Moaning, already overly sensitive from just cumming, you tell him “you’re fucking cock, jesus”

“Mmm? What about it, Y/N?” he hums in your ear, upping the intensity of his movements ever so deliciously. Dragging along your gummy walls

“ohH fuucckk”

“What about my cock Y/N?”

“So good- cock’s so good” you cry out, Soobin’s cock hitting deeper inside you again, searching for his own orgasm now.

“You need to be more specific, baby. Tell me what is it about my cock that you like so much”

You have no idea where your usually shy and bashful best friend is right now because the man fucking you right now is very different. Different in the sexiest way possible. “Never knew you were so dominant Bin”

He laughs, deeply in his chest “Talking back now are we?”

You look at him through the mirror and smirk, raising your eyebrows in a challenge wanting to push him even further.

“Alright then” he lets go of your body, and pushes you down flat to the desk “fine, be a brat”.

The slapping sound echoes throughout the room, the stinging pain where his hand made contact with your ass caused you to cry out. Fucking you harder than he had before, using you for his own need, taking out the remaining frustration he has from earlier.

“Gonna talk now?”

“Why would I do that, Binnie?” you pant between breathes as he fucks into you harder and faster.

Your reddened cheek is met with another harsh slap, making you arch your back and clench around his cock, “fuck!”

“Oh you like that. Not such a good girl afterall. Baby likes it rough huh?” Giving you another slap, you confirm everything he just said. “Mmm my baby likes it rough. You like it when I spank you, pretty girl? Like it when I'm rough?” spanking you on the other cheek now you cry out in pleasure. “Fuck youre so hot you know that? Squeezing my cock like that”

“Fuck Soobin, need you to cum” you whine. “Want your cum Soobin please!”

“You want me to cum? Tell me what you like about my cock first Y/N. Be a good girl and I’ll fill you up.”

“Fuck Soobin. You’re cocks huge - so big, fills me so good. Ahhh-hits so deep inside. Fuck! stretch me so good. Makes me feel soo good Binnie, fuck- PLEASE!- PLEASE BIN- cum in me”

“You want it?” he teases one last time, as you say the words that make him crumble

“Please Soobin! Fill me with your cum! Make me yours- Claim me Binnie-”

Soobin fucks you hard and fast, chasing his orgasm to do exactly as you begged for.

“Mine baby- FUCK- gonna make you mine. Make sure everyone knows it too. Fill you with my cum baby- Drip down your thighs for the rest of the day- squirm everytime you feel it remembering my cock deep inside you. Make you feel better than anyone ever could. You’re mine Y/N-mine!”

His hips stutter and you feel his cock twitch inside you as his hot white cum starts to paint your insides. The feeling of finally being with Soobin and being claimed by him, is so overwhelming, you can't help but cum with him. Kissing down your spine while you both come down from your highs, you turn over your shoulder leaning for a kiss. When he connects his lips to yours it’s heaven. The anger and desperation are absent this time, letting you both feel your emotions. Feeling how you both belong together.

It felt so right, like all of your missing pieces had been found. You found your home, and it was Soobin.

“Y/N”

“Mmhmm?” You smile at him pulling away from his lips

“I- I..”

“Come on Soob don’t be shy now” you tease him

“I’m just… fuck I’m just so happy right now”

“Me to Soobin. So so happy”

“I love you Y/N” he confesses

Your eyes widened, shocked that he just spoke the words you dreamed of hearing one day. Too stunned to speak. Sure you just fucked each other and admitted that you both wanted each other but love!? You knew you loved him but hearing him say those three words made your heart explode.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel that way. I just,” he rubs the back of his neck embarrassed “I just really wanted to tell you.”

The biggest smile spreads across your face unable to contain your glee. ‘He’s so fucking cute I can’t handle it’ you think to yourself before you respond to him “I love you to Soobin!”

His eyes light up as he engulfs you in the tightest hug. “God I love you so much. Can I keep you to myself now? Can you be mine? Only mine? Please!?” He asks

“Soobin you goof! I was already yours!” You giggle at how adorable he is. “You’re so fucking cute I can’t handle you!”

“Stop!” He blushes and hides in your neck at you calling him cute

“I can’t help it, Bin! Look at you, this is the CUTEST!” You squeal at him

He pokes out of your neck at looks up at you with big brown puppy dog eyes as he rests his chin on your chest and pouts, whining “stop teasing me”

“YOU THINK THIS IS BETTER!? My heart is gonna explode from cuteness overload! You’re like a big puppy” you rubs his head, emphasising your point.

“Okay okay!” He laughs before taking your hand off of His head and kissing your palm. “You really are like Marin when I think about it. You sounded just like her just now”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Marin Kitagawa is bae. However, can we talk about how jealous you were earlier”

Hanging his head in his hands Soobin pleads “yeah… can we forget that? Please?”

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” You tease him, making him groan. “You know, it’s was kinda hot though”

Soobin’s head springs up “yeah?”

“Yeah, it was pretty hot seeing you get so mad when the guys were talking to me.”

“They weren’t talking, they were all over you! Touching you and shit! I-“

“Soob! Calm down. You won babe, I’m all yours” kissing him to shut him up.

“Yeah… you’re mine. My girl”

“And you’re my man”

“Y/n?”

“Mmhmm?” you hum sweetly

*Knock knock knock*

You both jump, startled and try to cover yourselves as you watch the door crack open a tiny bit

“Hey guys, it’s just me” Yeonjun quietly says through the door “I don’t know what you’re both up to but Soobin the shoot starts in 15 minutes you need to get ready.”

“Okay! Thanks hyung” Soobin responds awkwardly as Yeonjun shuts the door, leaving you two to fix yourselves up and get ready for the shoot.

You both scramble around, scouring the floor for your clothes. Quickly putting back on your underwear, and bra, and tying your shirt around your waist and fixing your skirt. You grab your brush belt and prepare as fast as you can, while Soobin walks back over to you, fastening the button on his pants.

“Sit” you smile at him and point to the chair

As he takes his seat you look him over and immediately regret attaching onto his neck so hard earlier. Covering the purple and red marks was going to take longer than you hoped. So you dive in right away, not wasting a single second. Concentrating so hard that you don’t even talk.

Soobin takes in your appearance. The love bites that he left to decorate your neck and chest make him feel warm inside, knowing everyone will see them. His eyes wander to your face and he can't help the swelling of his heart as he watches your eyebrows crinkle as you concentrate on trying to cover his hickeys. Finding the way you bite your lip and lick your lips as you work is adorable. He’s watched you work so many times before, and seen these faces both while you work and when it’s just the two of you gaming or working on something, but this time it’s different. Knowing that you love him the way he loves you makes everything about you that much cuter. He speaks before he even processes what he’s going to say

“Y/N?”

“Mmm?” Humming in response, words taking too much effort at this moment

“Can I take you on a date? Like a proper one?”

Your whole body freezes as you finally look at him, not just the marks on him. “What?” You ask quietly

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yes. YES! Of course I will!” You smile and hug him before giving him a quick peck.

“Is tomorrow okay?”

“Yeah that sounds good” you say excitedly as you return to your work, finishing covering the last of his marks, moving on to the rest of his face. “God I hope you’re wearing something that covers most of this! I’m gonna be in so much shit!” referring to the million marks you had left on him.

“Y/N it’s okay that’s what editing is for” chuckling as he rubs your arm in support

“I just got so carried away… wanted to show everyone your mine”

“Like I’m one to talk! Have you seen yourself?” Laughing at how desperate you both were to claim each other.

“Still!” You apply concealer around his eyes and blend it into the rest of his makeup. Combing through his brows with a gel and adding a light tint to his already swollen lips. “Your lips are even more pouty now. Fuck you’re gonna look to good in this shoot. I can see the edits now” despair shooting across your face as you tip your head back.

“Hey! Who cares about edits? I’m all yours baby”

“But everyone’s gonna see how sexy you look” you pout

“And who did that to me?” Soobin raises his eyebrows and you flush a little “exactly” he smirks and pecks you quickly

You blend out the subtle blush you applied and then look him over, making sure everything looks okay. Which of course he does, his skin is flawless and he always looks gorgeous. “Okay I’m done”

Standing from the chair he looks in the mirror and fixes his hair “you’d never know I was covered in hickeys a minute ago”

You slap his arm and he laughs “keep it that way bin!”

“Alright alright!” He turns to you, grabbing your hands gently with his huge ones and looks into your pink tinted lenses as you look up at him. “I’ll text you after the shoot okay?”

“Kay” you softly respond.

Taking your hand up to his lips, Soobin places a soft kiss on the back of it before saying “I love you Y/N”

“Love you to Bin”

He gives you one last kiss, his hand cupping your ear as his thumb rubs your cheekbone. He reluctantly lets go and jogs to the door. Before exiting, he turns back to you and smiles.

“I’ll see you later?”

You nod and he leaves with a smile plastered on his face. Walking down the hall to the shoot, he sees the guys. All staring him down with intense eyes.

“What?” Soobin asks tentatively

“WHAT!? Bro you need to spill NOW!” Yeonjun demands

“Ahhh- wow look at the time we have to start yeah? I think they just called my name” he points with his thumb over his shoulder as he quick walk turns into sprint to wardrobe to escape this conversation.

“CHOI SOOBIN! Get back here” Yeonjun chases after him, not willing to let him off the hook until he hears every last detail of how well his plan worked out.

Yeonjun’s phone pings notifying him of a new text message. “Don’t think this is over Soobin!” He yells at him, stopping to take out his phone, seeing the notification with your name. Opening your message he smirks proud of his two idiot best friends.

“Thank you ❤️” is all your text said but he knew exactly what you were referring to

“You're welcome pretty! but you owe me 😘😉”

511 notes · View notes

hyukascampfire · 3 months ago

Text

TO: SOMEONE FROM A WARM CLIMATE ... ❨ O6 ❩ ⸺ 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴

𝓘N WHICH 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗓𝗓𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. "𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂 𝖺𝗆 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾, 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇'𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎?" 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍, 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗉. "𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗍," 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌. "say what i am."

faerie!𝗍𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇 ╱ faerie!𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗇 · ƒ ! r 15k 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗒 ⸺ smut, angst, unprotected sex, mentions of past trauma, kissing scars, yandere themes, oral f rec, overstimulation, cumming on belly, power play, jealousy and possessiveness ｡ ( playlist )

← rꫀׁׅܻblogs & asks arꫀׁׅܻ always apprꫀׁׅܻciatꫀׁׅܻd! ♡(ᗒᗣᗕ )՞ →

🪶 ⦂ look what's finally out. i almost shed a tear formatting this post. i've missed this series so much. hehe. did i shed a few real tears over this? yes. i know that this part is shorter, and i did cut some stuff out, but i think that it packs the biggest punch. things HAPPEN. there is no meandering here.

“Tomorrow?” Beomgyu says. He’s laid with his shoulder pressed to yours, watching the ceiling the same lazy way you do.

Tomorrow. Leave it to Taehyun to spring stuff on you. Just when this place started feeling like home, here you go packing. You suppose you could stay here with Beomgyu and stick your head in the sand, but what good would that do you? You can’t pretend that the world will stop moving around you if you do. It won’t. Ancient powers will still be toeing at war, and Taehyun will still be general, and you will still be too near to the center of it all than you ought to be. They are indelible truths, so whatever. You’ll go to that war camp with him, if it’s for the best.

For tonight, though, you’ll enjoy Beomgyu’s presence. You almost want to ask him to come with you, but to the kelpie, being dragged into some meandering court war is worse than being left here by himself. Truly, he’ll probably be here thriving by his lonesome. Kelpie is as kelpie does.

You echo the word with a sigh. “Tomorrow.”

He turns to you, mischief sparkling in his mud eyes. Even without words, you know exactly what that look’s supposed to be saying.

“Don’t even start,” you say, elbowing him. “I was just beginning to think that I might miss you. Of course, you had to remind me of your nagging…” There’s no real bite. You’re never really annoyed, and Beomgyu doesn’t really care to run away.

Well, he might. You like to think that he’d at least look back twice were he to get the chance to make his grand escape for the treeline. But this conversation is more of a strange, unconventional comfort for the both of you than it is a genuine consideration.

“You’ll miss the nagging most.” He turns props himself up on an elbow. “Will you talk with the grass stalks when you’re there? The Lord isn’t much for words, and you love to hear your own.”

Gasping, you glare. “Are you calling me annoying? That’s not fair coming from you. You love the sound of your own voice more than any faerie I’ve known, and you love the sound of your own voices.”

Of course, Beomgyu takes pride in that. “I do tell a story good. You should love my voice, too.”

He’s awful, but you laugh. He’s right enough. There was a time, when you first brought him here from his forest, that you’d talked to him for so long into the night that your voice went raw. You had never talked so much in your life.

“I guess the grass will have to do.” You interlace your fingers on your belly.

“They are quite humorous.”

“Whatever, liar,” you snort.

“Oh, but they are.” Sitting up, Beomgyu’s snarled hair hangs as he looks down, impish amusement bursting at the seams of his face. “Such a human thing; to think that because you don’t know it, then it can’t be how it is. Everything has something to say, you just don’t hear it.”

Blinking, you look at him. “I guess that’s true,” you say. You’d always known that there was a lot about the world that you didn’t know, but you are reminded of that more than ever these days. Even just in little things like this. “I wonder how it’ll be.”

Beomgyu looks a little bit less playful. “You’ll need to watch yourself. Humans don’t go to faerie war camps. They won’t be glad to have you there. The Lord thinks he’s protecting you, but our world is feeling the unbalance. Not even his mind, as sharp as he thinks it is, can predict what’s unpredictable.”

How terribly ominous is that. “Do you know something I don’t?” you ask, releasing a short breath for a laugh and fiddling with the trim of your pillow that you’d made pretty with gold swirls.

Beomgyu shoots you one of his eerie, knowing grins that leaves you unsure whether you should laugh with him or worry about what it means.

“What?” you say, giving him a contemptuous frown instead. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re reminded of when he’d told you similar things when he’d helped with your geas. You will never be whole again, but you ought to savor what you’ve got left. Perhaps he does it just to mess with you, but you’ll never be sure. That’s the thing about a faerie: the moment you think you’ve understood who they are and what they’ll do, they’re different the next. Capricious and ever-changing, at least to your human mind.

You’d thought you’d known a faerie once. That’s a lesson better taught than learnt.

Or maybe what you have here, in those strange eyes and that fickle smile, is just friendship, and the things he says are just because of what he is. Maybe you’re trying to look at Beomgyu through the same cracked lens that Yeonjun had left you with. You’d been a trusting girl once. Breathing out a sigh, you take a long look at his face. Shouldn’t you let yourself be her again? Isn’t it unfair to assume the worst of him because of what another did?

“It means that I worry for you,” he says, flopping back down beside you. “And that you should be safe. I don’t wish to live in this terrible estate with just the Lord, some servants, and I.”

You blink up at the ceiling, your throat tight for whatever reason. “A lie,” you say. It comes out more as a rueful complaint than the shoddy joke you intended for it to be. It’s hard when you’re not sure whether or not you believe it to be the truth. He’s the one that said he could lie if he wanted to.

His gaze falls on you, old in its weight. “And so, if it is?” he says. His voice is gentle, or perhaps comforting, in a way you weren’t sure he could be. “Would you make yourself sick debating it? Hanging onto every word to discern whether it's a real truth or a faerie truth?”

Instead of speaking when you don’t know what to say, you turn to him and let his words wrap around your bones.

You would, just as you always have. Out of all the people that’s not fair to, it might just be the most unfair to yourself. You’ll never know for certain, so why torture yourself trying to?

Well, if only it were that easy. If only you could know what someone intends before you give them a tender spot in your chest to leave achingly empty. To leave it bruised and a shriveled, wary husk of its former self.

“And,” he says, full of humor, “if not you, then who would I bother asking to release me from the bridle’s hold? Not the Lord. He wouldn’t tolerate it. He’d keep me here for an eternity, was it convenient for his own plans.”

No, you don’t think he would. Taehyun hadn’t gotten Beomgyu to serve his menial needs; he hadn’t gotten him for himself. You wonder if you’ve been looking at Taehyun through that same, warped lens you’ve been seeing the rest of the world with. Did you let it bend his image into something untrue?

“Of course,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I was wrong. You are predictable. Maybe I’m with Taehyun on that.”

❆

Cutting through snow up to your calves and with a pack on your back and Taehyun’s silhouette leading the way, it’s impossible to not remember the last time you did this. So much has changed since then, and then so much has stayed unchanged.

It’s been months since you two came north. A lifetime ago. And so much has happened between the both of you, quicksand up to your ears, but you can’t say you know him that much better than you did then. You might even know less now. It’d been cut and clean—he was a dark, impolite man that saw the world down his nose.

Going west, it takes less time for frost and white forest floor to give way to green than it had when you went north. Foliage. Seeing a forest untouched by the cold’s bitter death has you breathing in the air, savoring the way it doesn’t sting your lungs. It’s fresh in a different way.

Once your feet begin to ache, you make a small camp for the night. Camp, meaning a fire made of damp wood off the forest floor that’s reluctant to burn and tree stumps to lean your back against. Good that it’s warmer here.

Taehyun gets some poor small forest animal to roast, and you brought some apples to eat on the way. The gamey tang and the sweetness mesh into something that’s not too awful, considering your circumstances. You sit down by the meek fire, holding your palms out at it. You’re not so far away from home yet that the night doesn’t at least make your bones ache with the chill.

“Did you not know until recently that they’d want you to go to the camp?” you say, trying to warm the air between you in the same way you toast your numb fingers.

With one arm propped up on a bent knee and his apple dangling untouched in his hand, he shakes his head. The fire dances an array of oranges and yellows in his eyes. “I’m their general. It doesn’t matter why I did it; if I don’t play the part, it’ll have been for nothing. If I stayed in my estate, they’d have no use for me.”

So, it was his idea. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

Taehyun purses his lips, watching the fire. Thinking about whether or not to say. “I thought it’d upset you,” he says finally after a long moment.

Unsure of what to say to that, you take a pause. Truthfully, you hadn’t expected that—that he thought it would be fine either way, that he hadn’t thought to, that it wasn’t up to him, you might’ve assumed. He was nervous to tell you that he, and by extension you, were going to have to go? He didn’t say it outright. Taehyun never would. But the thought is sweet, in a way. Your lips turn up at the corners, a soft and unexpected smile.

“I guess that’s true,” you say. You would’ve gone either way, though. The fire sizzles and pops as it eats up the wet logs, the little stack falling. “Don’t you worry about the fact that they might find out that you’re not so enthusiastic about the war? To be general?”

“As long as I do their bidding, I don’t think they’ll care what I believe in.” He shrugs. “I play general, they get to have war. If they aren’t coming to our doorstep because we were spies, that’s all I care about.”

You suppose that’s right. Neither of you are looking out to play hero, anyway. Just to survive. The both of you seem to always be doing that together.

“What are they asking of you?” you say. If they’re moving out into camps, then something must be happening. That was inevitable.

“The camp is near the King’s castle. Just a little north of it, on a big grass plane. They’re not looking to be sneaky anymore,” he says. “So, it could be anything.”

Nodding, you cozy back up against the tree. You hope it’s not anything too terrible. For his sake.

❆

Taehyun’s not awake by the time you stir, his arms crossed over his chest and his head back on the bark. A few early birds sing back and forth to each other from the boughs of the trees above you. It’s a sound as fresh and clear as the blue dawn sky and the dew that sparkles from the grass.

How sweet it all would be, did the bottom of your spine not pinch from the night spent upright on your ass, and were there not the unignorable muckiness that clings to your skin from a day spent walking. Dusting your palms of dirt where you’d planted them to the ground, you decide to make a trip to the gentle stream that had lulled you to sleep with its rushing last night. A bath in that water would definitely wake you up quick.

You follow the sound of it until it appears from between two trees. It just looks cold, rushing over the mud riverbank a crystal clear color. You kick off your boots and test it, gasping as it bites. You can’t help but smile at yourself—it’s exactly what you need to come out fresh enough to suffer another day of dragging your feet over the ground.

Getting in is like pins and needles. You peel your clothes off and step in up to your hips, your hisses meshing with the sounds of the morning air. Damn it, it’s cold. Ice cold, as it runs down your spine from where you cup it and wet your hair. And when you’ve gone numb to it, you feel the water rushing in between your fingers, scrubbing it over your skin, letting the crystalline coolness make you clean.

Hopefully, they’ll have some way for you to bathe there. The folk don’t need to bathe for hygiene the way you do, and they’d have no reason to bring a luxury like a tub along in that case. It’s a war camp. You wonder in what other ways it’ll be inhospitable for a human.

Maybe you’ll have to find a river, there, too—

Taehyun’s voice startles you. “You didn’t think to at least tell me you were going?” There isn’t any real bite, more like annoyance.

You freeze, heart kicking into action so hard that you feel it. You thought he’d be asleep for at least until you got back. Covering your chest with your arms, you spin.

“Sorry,” you say, cheeks burning. Why’s this feel so… Well you don’t even know how to put it into words. He’s had his hands all over you, his lips on you, but him catching you like this just is different. Frankly—you’re flustered, aware of each inch of bare skin, water still rolling down your body and your hair laying in wet tendrils, that he has to pretend he doesn’t see. For your sake.

Or maybe it doesn’t phase him. Your tummy flips. Would that be for the better or worse?

“I thought something happened,” he says. Curt. Short. “You shouldn’t be out alone like this. It leaves you vulnerable.” His eyes stay trained on your face—distinctly, purposefully. It’s almost humorous how stone-faced he is. Almost, if your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears.

“I wanted to clean up.” You shiver, maybe at the soft breeze on your wet skin or maybe at the redness of his ears. “I’ll tell you. Next time.” Please go, so I can put some fucking clothes on, you want to add.

“Yeah. That would be useful.” He thumbs the hilt of his sword. “Finish up and meet me back at camp. We should get going.” Unceremoniously, he turns on his heel and disappears back into the trees, spine straight.

Water falls from you as you step onto land, wringing your hair out. You’re just glad he didn’t insist on closing his eyes and staying as you dress to keep watch.

Add that to the list of reasons the air becomes suffocating the moment you’re in proximity to him. It seems that the things you leave unsaid and unaddressed, like those words he’d said to you when he kissed you for the second time, the ones that make your spine tingle the more you pretend they didn’t happen, are sometimes heavier than what you do say.

❆

Camp is a scattering of a few tents raised on a grassy stretch, just as Taehyun had said. Their flags willow in the wind, pointed swords strewn out beside straw-stuffed dummies.

You’re sharing a tent with Taehyun. It’s simple: two beds on opposing sides, trunks for your belongings, and nearly nothing else. You appreciate your bed at home a little more when you plop down into the cushions, but blankets and pillows are better than tree trunks and bark.

Taehyun slips in some time later. It’s dark out behind him as he does, the stars hanging above.

“It’s certainly functional in here,” you say, running your fingers through nasty tangles in your hair like a comb. “A war camp.”

“We’ve both slept in worse.”

“Yeah, we have,” you snort, but don’t miss the distance in his voice. After a few beats, just watching him lean his sword against the wall, you ask, “Did something happen?”

He breathes out slowly through his nose, eyes caught where he’d just placed his heavy, dutiful sword. “They want to go straight for bloodshed. They thought I’d get here and just march into the fucking palace.”

You open your mouth, bracing your hands on the mattress beside you as if unsure if you want to stand up or gawk at him. “What? Just walk right up? How does that make any sense?” you say. “You said no, right?”

“Yes, I said no.” Taehyun sits on his bed and works on the laces of his boots. “It doesn’t just make no sense. It’s not how war works. Not a faerie war.”

“Were they… okay with that? You telling them no?” He’s not a general that has commanded an army at war—not his father. They know nothing but the fact that Taehyun is the General’s son and that he’s come here pretending that he’s somebody to tell them what they should or shouldn’t be doing. The faerie ego is not sympathetic to that.

He grits his teeth, jaw flickering.

No. Most definitely not. “Why go in with swords? They know that, by hospitality, they’d have to entertain us if we asked to be. A feast, a celebration of nothing, literally anything. And then we could make a quiet move while we’re in there. Battling it out in some field is ridiculous.”

Taehyun blinks. Thoughts turn in his head, visible through his eyes. “That would break the rules of hospitality, though.”

“So, they won’t see it coming. It seems better than just throwing armor on and hoping we can outnumber them. You said that the North couldn’t win this, but isn’t that only if we play by their rules? Of course they’ll do better when it’s the stakes they put up.”

“You’re good at that.”

“Well,” you say, unsure and flustered. “It just makes the most sense. I thought it’d be what you were thinking too.”

He lets his head drop into a laugh. A laugh. You don’t think you’ve ever held on to the sound of someone’s laugh the way you do the soft, mellow sound.

You linger on the last remnants of his smile, letting its stark contrast with his usual disposition ring through your bones, as he snuffs out the candle and lets a new, uncharted kind of silence fall over the space.

You linger on it as you fall asleep, too.

❆

The camp becomes more hollow as Taehyun takes up his role. The only time you get to see him now is when he steps into the tent too late in the night. He’s always up earlier than you.

It’s not like you have anything else to do. Other than Taehyun, this place is just an encampment of strange, hard faces and unnerving eyes that watch you as you toil through the days. Eyes that are curious as to why you’re even here. You start to wonder the same, under their scrutiny. It certainly feels like you shouldn’t be.

You know better than to stick your nose in their business or to try and make friends. Instead, you whittle time down with practicing on the fine, veneered bows and taking your needle to any tattered old fabric you see.

Today, you snatched one of Taehyun’s simple black tunics to work away at. All you’d brought in your pack when you had stuffed your essentials in there was some black thread. So you stitch blackthorn branches around the cuffs even though nobody would notice unless they cared to look.

You thread and you thread, letting the world blend into nothing as it always does when you work with your hands like this. The sun sinks from its peak, casting golden afternoon warmth onto your skin from in between tents. You focus on that. When you were a girl, you did the same thing with the goldspun threads you had then. It’s one thing you had for yourself.

Only the sound of something different draws your attention enough to drag you away from decorating the cuffs. A familiar sound; melodic and off-kilter in the same way. Something so singular that you’d know it anywhere, no matter if it made sense or not. Faerie music, and not just any faerie music.

Your feet follow the sound until you find him: a flop of golden hair, freckles spackled over his nose, and music floating away from his lute like magic. Because it is magic.

But, why would he be here?

“How come I knew you’d show up right when I was looking for you?” Kai says. He has clover in his hair, of course he does, and wears a faerie smile. “You have such a strange way of finding yourself in the middle of things. Come for a dance?” He plucks a few notes like an invitation.

You can’t disagree with that. Staying put where you are, you say, “What’s a bard got to do in a place like this?”

“A faerie needs music wherever they will go,” he answers, “and none else more than us antsy for a show.” Crisscrossed in the grass, he puts his instrument down for the first time since you’ve known the strange faerie. “It would not be remiss to say that you and I are both here on equally unlikely terms. Who is to say that you are to be here and I am not, or that I am to be, and you are not?”

Beomgyu’s vernacular has made you at least a bit more accustomed to faerie turns of speech, but Kai speaks the wordiest of them all. A taleteller. That was either fully the truth, or a lie disguised somewhere in those long and gossamer words. It has to be at least partly the truth, though, because Kai is sympathetic to the North.

Or maybe he isn’t. You can’t tell exactly what Kai is, or what he believes in, or if he likes or dislikes you, or if he’s here or there. The only certain thing about him is that you might never know.

“Okay, well,” you say, “I’ll be off then, if we’re playing riddles.”

Kai looks up at you, his brows raised presumptuously. “Why leave when you’ve only just arrived?” he says. “We are two of a kind here. I don’t see why we two can’t be friends. And, oh, do I have something that you ought to see.”

Your interest must show in your face, because he smiles and pats the ground beside him. That could mean a hundred different things, coming from him. You don’t move, eyes narrowed.

“Don’t be wary,” he laughs. It sounds something like bells twinkling in the distance. “What good would it bring me to play tricks on you? You’ll hate to miss what I’ve brought for you.”

Still not entirely convinced, but definitely intrigued, you take a seat on the ground with him, criss-crossing your legs. A gentle breeze tugs your hair one way. It’s a beautiful day. Maybe you should’ve let yourself enjoy it a little.

“Not a trick,” you say, playing with the grass beneath your fingertips. “Then what? I thought you to be the tricksy type.”

The sun gilds his silhouette, making his hair into true gold around the edges. He laughs, nose wrinkling with such joy that you wonder if it really was that funny. “You suffer trust,” he says.

It’s nothing but a flippant, passing remark. Nonetheless, it strikes you deep, because deep down you know it’s the truth. You just hate that it’s so obvious to them and their kind. You hate that everything about you is obvious to them. It’s as though they reach in and flip through your pages, while you’re stuck out here trying to figure it out yourself. Beomgyu had done the same.

The long moment in which you look at him makes him laugh again, shaking his head. “Here. Let me show you.” He reaches into a pocket.

A letter. He produces a letter. You aren’t stupid enough to pretend that it might be from Beomgyu or anybody else. Belly dropping, you know exactly who’s written to you.

“I don’t want it,” you rush out. “Keep it. Send it back to him and tell him I won’t be taking any of his letters.”

You keep telling yourself that you’re past it. Past him. No healed person has to remind themselves that they are, or has to choke down the lump in their throat at a slight reminder as this. It is achingly pathetic.

Kai seems to think so, as well. He furrows his brows. “You don’t want them? Are you not lovers?”

“No, we are not,” you lie. Or, well, it’s the truth, but it’s as venomous as a lie on your tongue. “It doesn’t matter. I wonder why he would send you all the way here just for this.” Now, it’s clear why Kai is here at this camp.

He grins, because your reaction makes it obvious to anybody looking close enough. “Take it. Read it at least once, and then burn it if you must. I can’t leave this place until you have it.”

That doesn’t sound so awful. Tentatively, you accept it into your hands.

Kai, in a different tone of voice than before, points at the little patch of clover that you wouldn’t be wrong to assume he stole the ones in his hair from. A four leaf clover stands proud in the center of them. “Luck, it seems,” he says, “has its own say.”

What that means, you don’t know. You take his letter and burn it in a candle flame, watching the words float up in curls of wispy smoke. Not for anger, but because you know better than to do this again. You know yourself and how much you love his sweet words too much to even allow yourself to read them first.

And over the weeks the next came and then the next. You burnt those ones too. Seeing Kai becomes your routine, stepping out into fresh air to go sit with him wherever it is. A damp patch of grass, on a fallen log out in the edge of the forest, in between two tents. He’s somebody to talk to, and goodness are you hungry for that. He’ll play old songs for you, telling you stories in which you are even less sure whether or not they’re bolstered with dramatics than Beomgyu’s.

Goodness, you miss that horse. You ask Kai to take something to him for you, since he’s coming in and out anyway. The letter you get back makes you laugh out loud. In jagged, unsightly lines, he scrawled back, sending letters now, are we? You’re just surprised he knows how to write, honestly. Would it be a cruel joke to write back and say, you’re free? Would that even work over ink? It seems that you’ll be here forever, with the way things are going now. The long haul. Taehyun wouldn’t even know Beomgyu was gone until you got back.

Nonetheless, you are certain he’s content there by himself, though it isn’t the loch he wishes it would be.

There’s always something happening here, and you live just on the outskirts of it. You’re not sure what. Taehyun doesn’t come to tell you about it, but from what you’ve pried at Kai over, you know that things aren’t going well. You figured as much, what with the quietness that Taehyun returns with every night, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders, and the way his face has become sharper.

The weight of a leader that he will shoulder, because he believes it to be his duty.

❆

For the first time in a while, Taehyun comes back at an hour that you’re not opening one heavy eye to watch him through. Kicking the blankets off your legs, you sit up and watch him peel his doublet over his head, the one with the Blackthorn crest in silver.

And then he takes his tunic off, and there is his back, bared to your eyes. Your stomach erupts with violent butterflies. His muscles move under his skin, precise and powerful, the movement of him throwing the fabric elsewhere showing them off beneath each jagged old wound. At the top, in his shoulder blade, is one that you recognize.

“That looks better than when I last saw it,” you say, voice gentle with sleepiness.

Taehyun pauses, looking over his shoulder. “I thought you were asleep. I’m sorry.”

Tension; tension as thick as smoke in the air between you. It’s been that way for a while now. Suffocating.

“No, it’s okay.” You purse your lips. “I haven’t gotten to talk with you much. I stayed up a bit later.” The fact that it insinuates that you’ve been waiting to speak with him, you don’t address. You sleep in the same little space every night. It’s hard not to want that.

Sitting on his bed, elbows braced on his knees and his hands clasped, he looks at you for a long moment. “Is that so?” he says. “I didn’t know.”

How could he know? It’s not like the two of you have ever been the way you and Beomgyu had. The way you and Yeonjun had. There’s always been this exact indescribable tension underlying it all between you. Something you are desperate to understand, but in the same way, deeply frightened to.

Crossing the room, you sit beside him. “I know you’re busy,” you say, filling the candle-lit air with words. “The stitches. They helped? It doesn’t look so bad.” You lie. It’s a gnarly scar, still red and tender, but no longer an open wound. For some reason, though you don’t think another scar would bother him too much, you don’t want him to know that it’s unsightly. It’s not what he deserves to hear. He got that one carrying your poisoned self when he didn’t need to.

There are a lot of things he did for you that he didn’t need to, and you struggle to grapple with why he did. Why he left behind a spy’s golden trove of information as if those years of his life meant nothing. Why he did a number of the things he did, when it made no sense for him to. Taehyun isn’t one who will do the kinder thing over the rational thing. So, then, why?

“They did,” he hums, his voice low. “It healed up fine. Thank you.”

There’s a few long beats of silence. You’re looking at his back, curved forward into a bend, and you blurt it. You curse yourself even as it's coming out, because it’s a ridiculous thing to ask, really.

“Can I…?” you say, a soft thing that trails off toward the end. Bringing your palm up, you hover it just over his back.

Taehyun tenses up, but he doesn’t object.

His skin is everything that a living thing’s should not be, under your palm. Cold; bitterly so, and each long, marred line is a groove under the pads of your fingertips. His back is torn up, and then smooth muscle where it isn’t. It makes your stomach sick.

“Are these… all from him?”

The timbred rumble of his voice reverberates through your palm. “No. Not all of them.” You run your fingers over a vicious, sideways scar. Something once festering and visceral, but his skin mended into something whole once more. That jagged mark will never leave, though. “But some are.”

His voice is distant and tight. You know it’s that he thinks speaking of it is pitying himself, when he survived it already. He doesn’t see it how you do—how much it’s clear that those still bother him. Your heart clenches in your chest, but you hold back all the things brimming on your tongue. You don’t want him to think you pity him.

“How did you get that one?”

He surprises you by answering. “The day I learned I was strong enough to fight him.”

Your hand freezes on his back. You knew each had a story, but hearing them is different. “What happened?” you ask, gentle but prodding. You wonder which parts of him were built by that man, and which still remind him of it.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Taehyun says. His voice is terse; walls beginning to draw back up.

“No, it doesn’t.” You thumb the scar he got with you, and then so very slowly, you press a soft kiss to just beside it . Your breath puffs out from your nose, warmth over the frigidity of him.

Taehyun shudders. His heart thumps in his chest—you can hear it, up this close. An unsteady rhythm, frantic against his ribcage. When he sits up and turns to look at you, his eyes are something different. Somewhere between intense, frightened, or unsure.

Your heart mimics his. With your voice soft, you say, “I’m sorry for that one.”

Where he had walked in here a war general with hard eyes and his jaw tight, the man you see now is one who hasn’t ever known a gentle touch, who hardened himself so that he couldn’t. And yet—like a frightened, unsure animal, he lets you in just enough to know that you won’t balk at his unsightliness. Beyond just his torn-up body. That doesn’t bother you, beyond the heaviness knowing what he was made to survive leaves you. Rather, down to what he is at his very core.

❆

Most of what you know about what’s happening comes from Kai. Not that Kai has ever shown animosity toward you—with time, you’ve come to at least enjoy listening to him playing for hours. You wish Taehyun would come to you to talk about it. Wish that he felt like he could.

What is this, between you? Is it trust, or not? You don’t know. You don’t even know how you feel, let alone even beginning to know how he does. But with this, shouldering it all himself, it looks like maybe he doesn’t. And, then again, his favorite tunic to wear for weeks has been the one that you made pretty. The threading that only he and you would know was there. Small gestures, and whatever they mean from him.

The sentiment toward Taehyun, with the faeries here, and you’re sure back home in the North, is starting to sour toward him. His moves have all fallen apart, ended up with us worse than we started off with. You keep a distance between yourself and all of that—but even you know what’ll happen if that trend keeps up. What use is a general that will lead you into loss? They’ll rid themselves of him.

Worse. You choose not to think about that, or the dark pit it leaves in your stomach.

It makes no sense at all. Taehyun is capable and intelligent—he doesn’t do anything without considering it. If anybody in this world was to succeed in something like this, it’s him. But suddenly he is not, and you watch it weigh on him.

And then, there’s Yeonjun. His sending letters tells you he’s at least okay. You might make peace with receiving and burning them forever, did you still not wonder about him, or ache for somebody to hold some nights. There had been a time in your life when you had never known what it was to hold or to be held, and still you lived. A bitter part of you wishes you never did. It’s like what Beomgyu had said: You’ve only got so much of yourself. Each time you fill yourself up with our magic, you lose that space. You will never be whole again

You will never be whole again. Yeonjun’s love was magic in its own right, even if it wasn’t really. It sometimes seems like it’s a hollow, empty spot inside of you where he sat. But that’s not right. It’s that he is still there, and always will be, and you feel as much when you try and pretend otherwise. So now you are to live forever as if you didn’t know him, didn’t love him, and it aches. You cannot pretend it doesn’t.

So, sometimes, you consider whether or not it’s better to live without him forever or to forget yourself and indulge. It’s not like he ever was a pure evil. Hardly that. But when you get to thinking about how sweet he’d been, how much you enjoyed it, you remind yourself of what he did, who he’s left you as. For the better. For the better.

You worry that he really will make good on what he wrote in those letters. Regardless of what he sends you now, you choose not to look. Losing you was fresh, then. Yeonjun is not nonsensical, just hurt. You tell yourself that, anyway.

Taehyun’s in your tent before you even are tonight, slipping in after a long evening of Kai trying to teach you the lute. As handy as you are, music seems to be out of the question. You don’t just spend time with him on days where he comes with letters—it’s most of your days, now. It’s easier that way.

His shoulders are rigid. He sits, so still and lost in thought. Sword still on his hip and still dressed down to his boots, he probably hasn’t moved since he sat there. It’s not hard to imagine what it is.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, ruffling through your trunk for something to make a snack out of. “Do they still not trust you?”

Taehyun scoffs. “They don’t just not trust me. They want me out. Not all of them, but the loud ones. They think that I’m doing it on purpose.” Laughing with a caustic edge, he shakes his head and looks at you. “I wish I was.” After a moment, he adds, “How did you know?”

“Kai said as much,” you say. Forget eating.

A look of something akin to realization flashes over his eyes, and then he nods. “Of course. Of course.”

“...What?” you say, knitting your brows.

“Somebody’s been telling my people that I’m a traitor. Somebody’s been making sure that each and every one of my moves goes down in flames. Somebody was sent here to do a prince’s bidding and give you his letters.”

Pausing, you frown. You didn’t think that Taehyun knew about those, but you also think that he’s just pieced that together himself. “But I’ve been with him most days,” you say. You were today, and then just the day before. “He wouldn’t have been able to.”

Jaw working, Taehyun trains his eyes on you. “Does that mean you were with him always? And that doesn’t mean that he dirtied his own hands.” He pauses, softening his tone the littlest bit. “You don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

You know that. Goodness, do you know that. You might say that he’s just avoiding considering the fact that it could be that his moves have failed, but that’s not Taehyun. If it were that, it wouldn’t bother him like this. He’d try a new approach, find a way, because he is utterly capable. That’s the problem, and why he’s come to this conclusion. Because he already knows that it’s the truth.

“Then, should we do something that couldn’t be sabotaged?”

He waits for you to elaborate with interest shining in his dark eyes.

Flushing, you’re reminded of the last time he trusted you enough to follow your lead, and how it ended for you. Still, he looks ready to do it again. You take a gnaw at your lip before saying, “We could do something. Us, if they’re just gonna mess it up when you send others. That way we know that it gets done, and they’ll see that it’s not your fault. They’ll trust you again, even if someone’s running their mouth.”

Taehyun thinks about that for a few moments. The silence as he does reminds you again of what you stand to lose if it went sideways. “They’re not as easy to convince as that. Not if somebody’s still in their ears, and if they’ve already decided that I’m not who they want leading their army.” A beat. “But, better that than letting it happen.”

You let out a long sigh, settling down opposite of him on his bed. Letting the silence stir between you with only your eyes speaking for a few moments, you say, “You think it’s him?” Not Kai—Yeonjun. At least, the one who would want this.

“I know it is.” His face goes hard, a sharpness you’re familiar with. “And you cozied right up with his messenger. It’s ironic.”

Gritting your teeth, you shoot back, “That’s not fair.”

Taehyun doesn’t answer you. His eyes burn with something beyond anger—an expression that you can just barely name hurt. You hold back the reflexive scoff that begs to come tumbling out like an old habit. Back to this. Searching his face, you try to find what, exactly, has him looking at you like that.

“Don’t do that,” you say. The emotion that comes out with it, straining the words, surprises you. “You’re just… shutting me out again. I thought you…” You don’t finish your sentence, but the air carries the meaning along for you. I thought you would let me in.

He doesn’t answer, but there’s a flash of something over his face. A wince. Like he wants to say something, but he can’t let himself.

“Why do you do that?” you say. Your blood roars to life in your veins, and you find your mouth straining under the weight of words you’ve wanted to say, just like it has for so long. And then it buckles. “To be honest with you, Taehyun, nothing you do makes any sense. One minute, you’re looking at me so cold that it looks like I mean nothing to you, and then another you’re… You’re saying stuff that I don’t understand. One second you won’t even speak to me, and then you’re leaving behind your life because I wanted to stay with Yeonjun. Why? Why would you do that? Why didn’t you go back and tell them I was a traitor kissing their prince? Why didn’t you get me killed? You make me think…” Your voice cracks despite you, but you don’t care if it makes him see you weak. “ It’s not fair.”

The tent falls silent, the air a thousand pounds, each beat sounding like you’ve said it now. Chills erupt over your arms, and you can take none of them back, so no matter what, you will at least finally know. Finally. Your stomach is done so tight up in knots.

“Because I never cared about being a spy,” he says, face dropped. “Or about being general, or being Lord of an estate, or about what people thought of me either way, or about any King or Queen or wars.”

Reeling, you breathe. The slow sound of it fills the room, but the pounding of your heart in your ears roars over it. That makes no sense at all. Your mind buzzes.

“Why did you do any of it, then, Taehyun? What do you care about?”

His throat works. Those cold eyes have something tender in them, but not a gentle tender. Tender like an old wound that he’s long since licked clean himself, that he hates to poke and examine out loud. Despite it, he tells you. Just for you, because you tend to always need him to do so.

“Nothing. I cared for nothing.” He’s rigid, so out of place, sat in front of you. “So I gave myself purposes.”

That word, cared, puts in context so much that you have to blink and make your head stop spinning just so that you can catch a solid thought. He cared for nothing. You have had Taehyun wrong in your head down to a ridiculous, fundamental level. Taehyun didn’t become who he is because that’s what he wanted. He was a ghost, a shell left hollowed out, floating between duties that he assigned himself just to survive, like becoming a spy, or whatever else he did. He had no goal, no place he cared to call home. Never want or let himself want anything—froze himself from the inside out to ensure it.

Cared, as if he found something to care for. Your mouth dries up, belly doing flips. Because, of course he didn’t care about leaving behind his life to follow you wherever you went, when he has been cold for so long, and he felt something. Of course he went to any lengths, no matter how unsure his motivation seemed to you then, to keep you safe. Of course he tried to mold himself into Yeonjun’s shape, as unbending and unmoldable as he is, because he felt that whatever hollowness he saw inside himself, you would not want. He knew that he was pushing you away because he doesn’t know how to nurture something like that, so he tried to veneer himself with bits of the man you were so enraptured with. Filled that hollowness up with something he thought would make you look his way—but of course he’d never say it. He couldn’t make himself, no matter how much he wanted it. Because that is who Taehyun is: a contradiction of himself.

All those time’s he’d frozen up and lashed out at you, because it was fucking killing him. Seeing you with Yeonjun. You had thought moments ago that it was Yeonjun who was the one with a bottomless sea of wants. Well, where Yeonjun wants, Taehyun needs. He will have you, because somebody who has only ever let themselves want something once is not going to just let it go.

What could you even say to that? How could you digest the bigness of it? Instead of trying, you go utterly still and wide-eyed in front of him.

He wanted something to trust. Searching his eyes, the ones that have gotten even more wildly tender in your silence, you determine that. Taehyun had nothing and nobody, not his father, not his killed mother, not a single one of his own kind in this world, to trust.

You, hands curled into the fabric of your clothes, breath fully for the first time in a while. You think you know the feeling. You think that you have become intimately familiar with the severe lack of it. That much, you can offer him.

The words fall from your mouth floaty and ethereal. Something unreal in the orange, all-too-real glow of the space. “I understand.”

About all the things that just came crashing over your head like ice water, or about the yearning for trust, you’re not sure. Either way, you do.

❆

Crouched behind some bushes, your knees dig into the mud. In front of you, the High King’s palace stands proud, briars crawling up its walls and strange, unpredictable windows here and there. It looks more like a festival hall than a palace.

Taehyun decided that doing something, just the two of you, like you had said, was best. It’s reminiscent of where you began. The two of you, spies again. In a way.

It’s nostalgic, but then it’s also so… new. The air between you, charged with new energy, but energy that grips you all the same. So many questions were answered, but so many cropped up to fill their absence.

But this feels lighter. You can’t discern why, when it fully should leave your spine tingling. The gravity of what he feels for you should tug you straight down to the earth with the force of it. It doesn’t. Turning to where he crouches beside you, you eye the lines of his profile. Your heart does a little jump.

“Now?” you say.

“A minute. We have to wait for the watch to change.” He tilts his head up in a point gesture toward the massive door at the main entrance.

“Or, we could go in another way. I’m sure they have other doors. How can we just walk right in?”

“There could be a door in through the servant’s quarters, but…” he says, eyes flicking over to you.

“That sounds like it would be better, though. Easier.” The hall is massive—you don’t doubt they use servants to make it run.

Running a thumb over the bottom of his sword at his hip, a little thing you noticed he does, Taehyun falters. “They keep human servants,” he says.

Like Soobin. Glamoured to be brainless hands, floating like spirits around the halls to fulfill their assigned purpose. You eye its walls and think of how easily you could’ve found yourself there. Some fates are fairer than others. You wish you knew why.

“We’ll wait until we see those watchmen leave. Then we can slip in.” He says it as fact. “We’ll search rooms. It’s not much, but we could use leverage. Anything.”

You nod slowly, and then turn to watch through the gaps in the leaves.

The watch does change, as Taehyun has said. You slip in silently, and nobody stops you. If it’s so easy to make your way into here, maybe war with them wouldn’t be so unimaginable. Your eyes dart everywhere as you do. It couldn’t really be that easy.

But it is. You split off from Taehyun. At the center, there’s an opening hall where feasts must be held. You imagine how many of those have happened there, and how many of the kinds of stories Kai tells you might’ve started right beneath that high ceiling. You don’t linger long enough for anybody to find you, but you do take in the look of the walls and imagine how Yeonjun would’ve done the same years ago. His home.

You peek your head into a number of rooms. None look like anything important, but you dip in to scan them just in case. Not counting the guards, you haven’t seen a soul. Empty; each room, empty. With how alive Court had been in the north, this is starkly not that. A dead palace. How strange, considering that the North is known for its bitterness and unwelcoming nature, and this place the opposite. It doesn’t feel that way.

You come to a room that gives you pause. It’s decorated not too differently from the rest, a bedroom as opposed to studies and other sorts of rooms, bathed in crushed velvet greens. The floor is littered with a strange array of things, surfaces dusted. It’s even more vacant than the rest of the hall, left untouched by whoever called it theirs once.

And, it’s familiar. You just get this achy, tingling feeling in your core. Bending down, you blow dust off some paint. It’s bright and colorful in ways only something from the human world is. Reds, blue, yellow, a rainbow in a little palette of dried up colors. A few unfinished, amateurish canvases lean against a wooden dresser. Decks of cards, none like any from here, scatter over the wood panelling.

Yeonjun always did like keeping human things. Dragging in a long, deep breath, you try and see if you can catch the woody, warm scent of him, left lingering here where he no doubt spent so much time. Nothing but the musk of an empty, dusty room meets you.

Picking up a leatherbound book from the blanket, you sit and pull it open. It creaks like old leather. The pages are moth-bitten and most are blank.

In an elegant hand, you find a written page. That handwriting. You loose a steadying breath.

It reads, They say I’d only make some stupid order that all humans would be free from our people, were I King. Would that really be so terrible?

You wet your lips. It’s some letter that never ended up with whoever he intended it for. Seeing that he did, in fact, live a wholly different life is strange. He left it behind for reasons that you know—he hated this place. Still, seeing it all confirmed. In front of your face. The rebellion must mean a lot to him. It seems, reading these little bits left behind, that he had his reasons. And obviously, he did. Nobody leaves behind their life for no reason. The time he spent in the human world changed him. Or, it magnified what had always been there: a soft spot.

Footsteps come for the door. You snap the book shut, but the door’s already opening.

“Hey,” Taehyun says.

Clinging to the leather, you let yourself breathe. “Hey,” you echo.

“You’re not great at being quiet,” he says, lips tilting up to one side in something that you could call almost playful. “You’re lucky that there’s nobody here. Anybody with my ears would’ve known you were in here.”

You figured as much. “Why, though? Where are they?”

“I don’t know where.” His gaze flickers around the room before landing back on you. “They have never left this hall. I thought that they would’ve just sat in here and let us right in before ever leaving.”

“Eerie…” you hum, hopping off the bed.

“Yeah.” Thoughts swirl behind those eyes. “They were smart enough not to leave anything, either. I found nothing.”

Looking down at the book you clutch to your chest, you purse your lips. Neither had you, but no part of you wants to leave this to be gnawed on some more. So, you don’t.

❆

Pulling back the bowstring comes easier now. It creaks, your arms aching. But you release your breath in a slow, measured puff, eyes finding the center of a straw bullseye a hundred yards down.

You let it fly. It cuts the air straight and makes its mark a little left of dead center. Always a little left… You huff, arms aching. Kai plays a song that faded into background noise thirty minutes ago.

“You shoot well,” Kai says. You can hear the smile in his voice. “You taught yourself?”

Shooting him a glance, you shake your head.

“Then, the General taught you himself,” he deducts. “An interesting thing.”

“I guess. A lot of things are interesting. Like how you play music the way you do.” A deflection, more than anything.

Kai pats the face of his lute. “You’ve learned how to speak like us, though you can lie. That, of all things, is interesting. You’ve spent more time around our kind than most. Tell me, what have you learned?”

He’s no doubt collecting a story he thinks he can make into a song. A storyteller like him is always listening and watching for another. That’s one way to be immortalized in this world. “I have no reason to lie,” you say, tinted with a laugh.

“Don’t you?” he says, playful eyes watching you.

“Don’t I?” Forget your bow—you toss it elsewhere. “Am I the one with a reason to lie?”

Cocking his head to the side, his mouth splits into a grin. Many of the folk are glad for animosity; Kai seems to be the type. He knows exactly what you mean. “You have a lot to say. I’d like to hear it.”

You do. But where do you start? Instead of asking him something that beats around the bush, something he could find a loophole in, you’ll ask him plainly. That’s a start. “Why are you trying to sabotage us? Is it because of Yeonjun? Did he ask you to?”

“He did,” Kai answers, without any flounce or fakery. Straight up. It shocks you. It shouldn’t be that easy. He could’ve just as well not answered. That might’ve been as much an answer as saying it outright, though. “Does that make you hate him?”

Freezing in place, your mouth doesn’t move to say yes. You don’t know how to answer that. You wish you did. Instead, you say, “What does he think he’s achieving? What if they find out that he’s sneaking around? It’s stupid.”

“It is,” Kai hums. The day is overcast, but his colors aren’t dulled by the grey sky. “When the prince feels, he feels it true. He makes his mind, and then he lives for it.” The way his eyes meet yours strikes you. Full of meaning. “What, then, would he change his mind on something like a purpose he believed as he did that one for?”

“I’m asking you,” you say. Yeonjun feels deeply and unapologetically, you are already intimately aware of that. From the moment he told you that his initial purpose was to identify and have you as spies killed, you have wondered how deeply he stood for the cause. That’s another thing that’s troubled you for the fact that you can’t make peace with it.

Well, since he’s here in front of you, it’s best to just ask.

“Did Yeonjun love me? Really love me?”

“He did, but I believe you know that already. That’s not what you really wonder.”

You hate that he knows. Gritting your teeth, you nod.

“You interest me, so I’ll give you this. The prince has never cared to become a king. A soft-hearted, joke of an heir. So, then, why would he have rebelled against his father if not to have his spot? Because he had one purpose, after living among your kind. The prince could never stand the way we treat you. That was enough for him to leave his home and try to change it.”

Yeonjun’s book still sits somewhere in your trunk. That lines up with what you had read.

“The prince cares for you,” he says. “More than even that. Enough to forget what else he did. Enough to forget anything else.”

There that is again. Why does it even matter to Kai? “I’m sure he said the same plenty of times before,” you say. Bitterness, as a habit. “I don’t understand why you do what he says. What’s in it for you, if he has me back? I don’t see what you gain.” Kai, who lived always between here and there.

“He’s an old friend,” he answers. “And I know what it is to love a human. That’s all.”

You purse your lips. He was a part of the rebellion as well. As mysterious as he is, of course Kai has his own reasons.

“Tell him that, if he does love me, then he’d stop. It’s past the point where we can go back to what it was.”

“I know that what happened hurt you, but I don’t think you really believe that.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, so airily, that it doesn’t even annoy you. Your ears go hot with defensiveness. “You don’t know me. How would you know that?”

Shrugging, he says, “It doesn’t matter what I say. But you have a few decisions you need to make for yourself. Not for what you should do, but whatever it is that you want.”

“And, what? I should decide to run back to him? Because that’s what you want, and he wants, so that’s what I should want too?” Your knuckles bleach white. “I don’t trust him. I can’t trust a word you or him say.”

“Why? Because he was scared to tell you, but still, he did because you deserved to know?”

Shaking your head, you say, “Does he pity himself? If he was as selfless as you want me to believe, he would’ve left it at that. But he didn’t. You’re here, aren’t you? That’s proof enough.”

“I’m hardly trying to say that he’s selfless. He is selfish. But it’s distorted to pretend that he’d hurt you.”

“What do you know?” you say, scoffing with pure acid. His eyes watch you as you go, but he doesn’t call after you.

Your nails make crescents in your palms, but you dig them in harder so that you feel that, rather than the aching like a poked bruise you thought had healed. His words ring disturbingly true regardless.

❆

Even though it seems that Taehyun is under more stress now than he ever was before, something has changed between you. Something unspoken.

It’s not as if he’s become talkative. But in some quiet moments, you catch him for long enough to have quiet, meaningless conversations with him into the night. And the nights where you get those dreams, he doesn’t mind you taking a spot in his bed to talk yourself out of it. He surely misses out on sleep for it, and as busy as he is, he surely needs it, but he never complains. Just listens to you ramble until you’re too tired to worry that you’ll close your eyes and find something frightening behind them.

He’s awkward. Terribly awkward about it. Sometimes he doesn’t know what to say, so he just stares at you. You imagine that he’s piecing together his speech in his head. It’s endearing in a way that has your heart clenching in your chest. He understands so much of the world so deeply, the darkest corners of it, but letting someone close? Speaking just to speak? It’s as though he’s trying to teach himself when he’s around you.

Orange flickers over the planes of his face. He watches you, his arms crossed over his chest, like he usually does.

“Taehyun?” you say, hair unkempt and your eyes sleepy. He doesn’t seem to care. “Can I ask you something?”

He hums.

Ever since he whispered it into your ear, that unintelligible word, you’ve been viciously curious. Chills erupt over your skin at the memory. Him behind you, the pads of his fingers on your skin, the heat of his breath. And, whatever it had meant, it crackled like magic in the air. Something different.

“That one day, you said a word that I couldn’t understand. What did it mean?”

Tongue darting out to wet his lips, he shifts. “My real name.”

You freeze, mouth dropping open as though to scoff and laugh it off. But his face is bare of humor. That can’t be right. Having a faerie’s real name is as good as them handing their life over to you. They don’t just hand them over like that. Most will spend their entire life holding it viciously to their chest, and for good reason. Anything you said or commanded, he would have to do. The way Beomgyu’s face had morphed when Taehyun commanded him to do anything—something like that. Anyone with a faeries name could tell them to crawl in the dirt and then take a dagger to cut their tongues out, and they would. They would.

And, Taehyun, of all of them? It doesn’t seem logical for him to give that to you. For a man so adept at surviving, it’s out of order. “What?” you say, voice peaking. “Why?”

As if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he says flatly, “Because I trust you with it.”

Your chest tightens. What a heavy, unbelievable thing to hold: somebody’s life in your hands, and to know that without a doubt that you will nurture it. His life, with which he did not care for so long about. You understand the gravity of that.

“I could hurt you with it,” you say. You can’t breathe, the air sucked from the room. “Aren’t you worried about that?”

“Then do it.” His jaw flickers. “Hurt me with it.”

How can he just say that? “No—why would I? I won’t ever. I won’t ever even use it. I promise you.”

“It’s yours.” He shrugs. “Use it how you want.”

The words slither up your spine, tickling the back of your skull. Oh. “I don’t even remember how to say it.” Could you? The vivid memory plays out, and it’s as incoherent to you as it had been then.

In a low, breathy voice, he repeats it. The hair on your arms stands up.

It takes you a few tries before you finally manage to get something close to it to come from your mouth. The dimple in his cheek peeks out with each attempt. But when you do get it, his eyes darken.

“There,” he says, nodding once. “Say it again.”

You do. The air crackles and comes alive.

“Do you feel it?”

“Yeah,” you say. “It feels like when I ate Lachrymose.” Tastes like it, too.

He frowns. “When did you?”

The knee-jerk reaction is to lie and say that it was something that happened when you were little. But you’re trying to tell less of those. “There was this time that he took me to a market. I had to have some to even see it.”

Taehyun’s jaw ticks, shadows flickering, but he doesn’t comment on it. “I had a feeling you were off doing dumb stuff.” It’s terse, but not mean. You might even call it an attempt at humor.

Snorting, you cross your arms. “You can’t pretend I’m the mysterious one.”

“Mysterious?” he says, arching his brows.

“Yes, mysterious. What do I know about you? I guess I know that you were a spy, but that doesn’t count.”

“That’s because there isn’t much to know.” His voice goes distant like it always does when he’s thinking.

Even if he had lived a phantom life, everybody has a history. “That’s not true. I’ve never been more curious about anybody’s past than I am yours.”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Sorry? For what?”

“That I don’t have anything to tell you.”

A life like that must’ve been awful. Your heart aches for him. Going from one place to another, unsure why you are or what you want or what your purpose is. “Was it lonely?” you ask.

Hair brushes his eyes as he moves. They look softer under this light—not soft, but softer. “It was all I knew. It couldn’t have been lonely.”

But, he felt the lack. Whether he calls it loneliness or not, he knew he was carved out by something. Isn’t that loneliness?

“Did you like being a spy?” Did it hurt you to leave it behind, you want to add.

“No more than for the fact it was something I was good at. I’m good with swords and metal, and not much else. It was a start.”

You nod, smiling gently, “I’m not good for much else than sewing.”

The air sits still between you, a calming presence that wraps you up in its arms. At ease, safe, like you usually feel with him.

You talk until your throat’s sore. Youdon’t even realize dawn has come until he pushes himself up off the bed and the soft blue light peeks in as he leaves.

Laying under your blankets to fight the morning chill, you say his true name one more time. Just to taste it.

❆

The drooping pearl of the necklace Yeonjun gave you swings delicately side to side. No matter what, you couldn’t leave it. You hold it out, watching it. Just watching it.

Kai had gotten up under your skin. His words peeled the dressing you had so carefully laid down for yourself. He’d done it so easily that you’re almost angry.

It doesn’t feel good to paint Yeonjun out to be all terrible, because he isn’t and never was. The truth of the situation is that he didn’t expect to end up loving you, or maybe he didn’t expect for his job to involve hurting a human life in any way. In any case, he never meant to break your trust.

But he did. Aren’t you a hypocrite, then? You weren’t telling him everything, either. Even if he already knew what you were, that was a decision you made. Because you were afraid. He was afraid he’d lose you, too. At least he told you regardless. That’s what gets you; he did tell you. Is what you’re doing punishment for that? Is it mean? And yet, if you go to him again, what of the fact that he thinks he can make you come back by pulling strings? That leaves a nasty taste on your tongue.

You don’t know. Dropping your head, you sigh. For a long time, everything has been bubbling up in your chest. Now, it rises into your throat and restricts your breathing. You don’t know, you don’t know.

The thudding of booted footsteps has you popping your head back up to find Taehyun in the doorway. His mouth moves in a half-smile to say something until he zeroes in on what you hold in your fist. Eyes going sharp, his face twists.

“Oh,” you say. “You’re back.”

His feet remain planted. He’s so still that it doesn’t even seem like he’s breathing. It sends a genuine chill over you, hair prickling. That look; you recognize what it is, now. You’ve seen it once or twice. So intense that it eats up the oxygen in the room and leaves none left for you.

“What’s that?” he says, crossing the room to snatch it from your hand. He watches it spin and glimmer in the lowlight. Last time he had seen it, he couldn’t help but snap it off your neck. His throat bobs around a hard swallow.

“A necklace.”

“Always him,” Taehyun growls, eyes smoldering. “No matter what I do. What will it take for you to stop fucking wanting him?”

You’d breathe, but it all gets caught in the back of your throat. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t?” he scoffs, taking your face in his hands. So gentle in contrast with the razors he sneers with. “Bullshit.”

You do. Of course you know what he means. You try to muster up words, but his thumb down the line of your jaw stops them short.

“Look me in the eyes,” he says. Mush-brained, like you always seem to be around him, you do. His jaw ticks and he breathes out a weakened, “Fuck.”

The mattress meeting your back doesn’t even register through the thick, fire-smoke haze of his mouth on yours. You gasp into his mouth, fingers curling into the front of his tunic. That same one you had embroidered. Him, walking around in your touch all day. It makes your belly turn over.

He licks the seam of your mouth, his hands in your hair and then running up your torso and then squeezing the plush fat of your hips, as if he can’t decide where he wants to feel you, so he devours it all at once. As if he could make up for all the times he wanted so badly to do this, but could not.

You gasp for breath when your mouths part, kiss so impatient and frantic that it dazes you and leaves your lips smeared. “Taehyun,” you shudder out. He always leaves you stupid and with nothing to say but that.

He takes your chemise where it lands on your thighs and brings it up. Each inch is scalding and exhilarating at once. When it’s bunched up above your breasts, those intense eyes eat the sight up. All sharp edges and want, but you see how his ears go red.

“I haven’t wanted anything this bad in my whole fucking life,” he says, palm splayed over your ribcage. “I have gone so long like this. Never had anything to want. But I want all of you. That, I need.”

You shake like a leaf in his hands with it; want. “Take it,” you say. It’s good that it’s nothing more than two words, because you don’t trust your voice right now.

But, really, is it? You think they’re much more than just words. Your head spins so much that the world blurs into lines around you—everything but him and the beating of your heart.

Instead of devouring you like you thought he would, he thumbs the hinge of your jaw. Yeonjun, as sure of himself as he is, would’ve. But everything about Taehyun is contrary to what you’ve known. Yeonjun was a slow, tantalizing burn because he knew exactly what he wanted to do with you. Taehyun’s all over you like he cannot get enough, a dazzling white-hot fire. And he cannot get enough.

“Are you sure?” he says, the words tumbling out past his lips with trembling urgency. “Because I’m… Don’t play with me. Please, don’t fucking play with me. You want this?”

You’re just as bad as he is. Worse, even. It’s like he takes whatever is inside of you and makes it tenfold. Your skull pounds to the same terrible rhythm as your center. It goes through you in waves. “Taehyun, please, just do something. I do. I do.”

His fingers are biting as he tugs you down to the edge of the bed, his hair hanging in his eyes. Dark, swirling pools. You drown in them. They’re even better in between your thighs, down on his knees.

“Tell me where he touched you,” he says, breaths puffing over your inner thighs.

So he can replace it all with himself. Your blood boils under your skin.

“Did he do this?” he asks. It doesn’t come out vindictive. No—he’s really asking. He wants to know exactly what you like, to make himself exactly that. Why does that set you on fire the way it does?

“Yes.” You run your palm down the length of your belly, slowly, just to feel it and the tingles. His eyes track it the whole way, darting back up to yours when you take his hair in your hands. “Yes, he did. And he was so good at it, Taehyun.” It’s purposefully antagonistic, but your belly tightens as his face falls to shadows.

The first swipe of his tongue is a test. He watches you jump with analytical precision and then applies that like he does everything else—watching. Observing. Another, trying a flick, and his intelligent eyes note how your thighs shake. Then his fingers go tight under your thighs, the cold of him like frostbite, and he dives in. No long drags, no fanfare.

You squeak, but it devolves into a litany of feral sounds. No, Taehyun is not Yeonjun. He reminds you of that in the way he pins you, his arms stronger, in the different way his mouth moves on your cunt. Not at all. It’s like you’re learning how your body reacts anew.

He does not let you clamp your thighs around his head, does not let you buck your hips, and does not let you breathe.

“Oh—” you start, but your vision tunnels as he takes your clit into his lips. A graze of teeth here, his tall, strong nose against it there. Wholly overwhelming you so that he knows, beyond a doubt, that there’s nothing in this world that you could be thinking about but this. Him. Because he so desperately needs it that way.

“Taehyun,” you plead with him. Your fingers tug at his scalp, and you’re positive that his jaw must ache, but there’s nothing but an endless hunger that meets your gaze when you find it in you to pry your eyes open and look. “Taehyun, please,” you say, voice cracking toward the end as your belly tightens.

His nose. It sends your body rigid each time he digs in deeper and bumps it up against you. It pushes you closer, closer, and then closer, until you burn all over, nails digging into his muscle-corded forearms to have something to hold as it licks down your spine. The last words you can manage are intelligible—your tongue betrays you.

Taehyun presses a rough hand right below your navel and holds you down through it. He’s the only thing that’s real beyond your hoarse cries and shaking body. Him.

He doesn’t stop flicking your clit with his tongue until you’re jumpy and choking on your breaths, belly going taut.

The vision of him as he pulls back has stars speckling your vision. His mouth is covered in you, his pupils blown wide. On him, on his perfect, clean-cut face, it’s the lewdest thing you’ve ever seen. Though you’re still floating in a smoky haze, sedated, it sends glowing sparks through you.

His breaths fan over your face as he climbs back up, maneuvering you however he pleases. With his forehead pressed to yours, he half growls, half shudders, “Damn it.”

The words are scalding. You know exactly what he means, because you’re feeling it too. Something as powerful as the sea swallowing you clean, sucking you down to where you know you won’t ever reach the surface again.

You take a hand and run it up the plane of his stomach, feeling and savoring each scar, until you feel his heart. It thuds under his skin frantically. It echoes through your bones, so loud that you might hear it if you strained your ear enough. It tugs at the strings of your heart.

“You’re nervous?” you say, eyeing the mess of his hair, the flush on his cheeks. All so endearingly human. Sweet, even.

“No,” he says. His voice is vibrantly husky and thick. “I’m not scared. I’m just…” His eyes sweep over the sight of you, the spread of your soft thighs and the splay of your hair and the same glazing of the eyes in yours as there is in his no doubt, longingly. There’s a flicker of unsureness, and then he presses his forehead to your shoulder and rolls his hips into you. He lets that speak, the hardness of him. “Good?”

Running a finger over the curve of his ear, you feel the scar tissue left there. “Good,” you say, still partly lost for breath. More than that; you want him all over you. You want him like liquid silver in your bloodstream, heavy but utterly potent.

He fumbles with his pants for a moment, the sword calloused pads of his free hand brushing over your pulse. It stutters under his thumb as he holds it there—checking if you’re feeling it how he is.

“I have been tortured,” he says, wetting his lips and scoffing as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say. “I have been tortured, driven up the fucking walls, by the sound you make when you cum. Since you let him have it in my home, since you let me hear it.” His eyes flash, and then he’s bent you straight in half.

With your thighs flush to your front, your mind goes blank white all but for the very human, very fundamental kick that comes with being so utterly held down. All his brawn is suddenly more apparent now than ever. You press at his hard chest, nothing but his breaths to breathe. “Tyun,” you say, calves on his shoulders.

“Good?” he repeats, his jaw working. The tip of him presses to your entrance.

Taking your lip into your teeth, you cut through the haze and nod for him. “Yes,” you say. “I’m good.”

That’s everything he needed to hear. The thick tip of him presses in first, and then you’re hanging on to each new inch, taking to his shape and size slowly but surely. A sound catches in his chest as his body meets yours, a gravelly curse following.

For a moment, he hangs on and lets you wiggle your hips in circles to learn the feeling. He’s different from Yeonjun like this, too. And then he takes your waist into his hands and begins to fuck you, because hardly could the both of you wait a moment longer. You need, need, need.

He drops his head and works his hips into you so eagerly that it’d be impossible for him not to brush up against that sweet, saccharine spot inside you. You press a palm over your mouth. Not to quiet yourself—when the world has gone to nothing else but him on top of you, you don’t care. But because you haven’t got a clue what else to do with your hands. You’re clawing, both grabbing him closer and pushing at him.

“Taehyun,” you whimper. “There—right there.”

Angling his hips, he searches your face. “Yeah? You…” His voice chokes off before he can gather himself again. “Like it there?”

Cupping the back of his head, you pepper kisses and nip wherever you can reach. It’s all your overwhelmed mind can do to thank him.

That deep, trembling feeling starts at the base of your spine. It’s inescapable between him and the bed beneath you, your toes curling in the air and your back going rigid. Everywhere you go, he’s there. Every square inch of you.

Taehyun’s no better off. “Fuck,” he whimpers. It’s like nothing you’ve ever heard come from his mouth. His head drops into your neck, a procession of something between whiny breaths and growls spilling into your skin.

“I’m…” you say, insides burning up far too much for you to finish that thought. You teeter on the edge just enough to drive you mad, mad enough that falling off feels both like punishment and prize.

He knows, though. “Me too,” he says, voice so tight you think it might snap. Hips faltering, he takes the hair at the back of your skull and tugs your head back just to press a smoldering kiss to your mouth. You know why he’s done it—the sound of his coming undone is muffled into your mouth as he eases up just enough to let your twitching legs down, slipping out. He takes himself into his fist, the slick sounds so obscene they break through your delirium. Belly going taught, the little bit of soft, healthy fat there, he throws his head back and spills over your stomach with a bone-deep sound.

Both made lazy, you don’t have it in you to move for some long moments. You just listen to the sound of his ragged breaths coming and going off pattern with yours. It’s all you need to hear. All you need to know.

Dazed, you watch him stand to find something to clean you up with. The air is empty, but not bad. Not stifling. He dabs at your belly with a gentle hand, tossing it away. You half expect him to slip out or go lay in his own bed, but he doesn’t. You always did seem to get him wrong, anyway.

You draw shapes into his skin, talking nonsense with a raspy voice until you’re droopy-eyed and don’t even realize you’re drifting.

❆

Poking through the fabric, you tug the string taut. Another one of Taehyun’s shirts dangles down from your hold.

Something’s happening. You’re not exactly sure what. But he’s hardly here, so something must be. You gnaw at your bitten lip. It doesn’t seem so much like there’s any buzz or mistrust around here anymore, so then what?

You know that you came here for real war, but the notion of it finally becoming actualized makes your stomach go nauseous. Not to mention the fact that you don’t even know where they’ve gone. That leaves a door of possibilities cracked that you don’t even want to peek into.

Taehyun can handle it. You know he can. Despite it, you hang on to every moment that he’s not here. What’s that? You decide not to name it, for your sake.

You thread and you thread, circling the cuffs and then around the neck, letting your mind wander. But not too far.

A rustle at the tent opening catches your attention, and then Kai’s stepping inside. Your belly doubles over itself. Never once has he come to you. “Is everything okay?” you say, throat tight like you already know. Because you do.

Wasting no time, Kai says, “The prince has been apprehended. But I’d tell you that he’s been given away.”

Silence washes over you as you pause. “What?” you say. Your voice is distant as it comes out. That was not what you were expecting, but it’s not any better. Taehyun’s shirt goes forgotten.

“For leverage,” he elaborates, “the King has been told about his son's rebellion. He’s been betrayed by one of our own.” There’s a deep sadness in his eyes. Old friends, he had said. “Our general is a cruel, sharp man.”

“What do you mean by that?” you say. The walls spin around you. That’s not right. That’s not right.

Kai doesn’t answer you, but his long, telling look speaks truer than words. Producing a letter, he offers it to you. Yeonjun’s insignia is stamped into wax on the face of it. “I suggest that you read this one.”

Your hand trembles as you take it from him. Yeah. You’d better read it. The cruelty of burning letters hits you like a real blow to the chest. The King has his traitorous son, probably sitting somewhere you haven’t got a clue of, plotting on having his head. So many words—oh, you feel sick just thinking of them going up in smoke now. Yeonjun will die.

The letter tears with a sickening sound. You don’t have the steadiness in you to open it delicately like you did once.

𝐾𝑎𝑖 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑚𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. 𝐴 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑛.

𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑦, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑓𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑡. 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑜 𝑖𝑡. 𝐼’𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑐ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡. 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡. 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡 𝑚𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑜. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡. 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒. 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙, 𝐼 𝑎𝑠𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑐, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡. 𝐼’𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡. 𝑀𝑎𝑦 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒.

𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑗𝑢𝑛

It’s all so sickly sweet, so dramatically him. Hot tears burn down your cheeks, jaw trembling as you make attempts to keep it all in place. Even just to see his handwriting…

You want to close your eyes and pretend that Taehyun would not, but your gut doesn’t allow it. You know the truth. You know that it was Taehyun who deducted it was Yeonjun sabotaging you. You know that it’s Taehyun that so perfectly, so seamlessly hid behind an ice wall for months that you hadn’t a clue how deeply and voraciously he needed to have you. It was him, with his sharp mind—that part of him that is capable of shutting down emotion and acting on brutal, detached strategy.

A strategist through and through. It was Taehyun who will have Yeonjun’s head.

🪶 ⦂ this is the happiest day of my life (＞＜) i missed them so much. i know how this development is probably making yall feel... so yes i will be needing to hear everything.

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