Douqhnxtss - Kira . - Tumblr Blog

♯┆Paper hearts .ᐟ ★ NSH.R

「𖦹Synopsisᵎᵎ」 In which you've kept receiving Paper hearts in your locker with little messages written on it by a Person who goes by "R". Little did you know that they're from the Japanese Transfer student who always sits in the back of your class , keeping to himself.

「𖦹Containsᵎᵎ」Highschool!Au, Riki can't express his emotions well, Reader is imagined to be shorter than him and dressing hyperfeminine, Family issues Crying , Romance , kissing

「𖦹Word countᵎᵎ」 4.1k

「𖦹Voice Messageᵎᵎ」 Looks familiar? This is a reupload from my former blog!

"Another one?", you quietly mumbled under your breath — a pink heart shaped piece of paper falling out of your locker as you opened it. You crouched to pick it up , turning it around and smiling softly to yourself as you read the message.

"Remember to drink some water today , make sure to eat some good food as well. Stay healthy - R"

In the beginning , when this all started , you felt a little creeped out — yes , the messages were cute but they were also implying that this person was watching you. They could be some creepy stalker , but they could also be someone who was just genuinely too shy to talk to you , so you just kept your guard up. It's been around 5 Months since you've started to receive those paper hearts , mostly having a message written on them and sometimes they were just empty — it's something small , but it was something you grew to look forward to. But who was this Person?

With a smile tugged on your lips , you put the paper hearts into the front pocket of your bag , making sure they won't get demolished before you took your books out of the locker and closing it. A small gasp escaped your lips as you turned around , being met by a chest right in front of your face as you almost bumped into them — looking up to see a pair of cold dark eyes staring into your soul , a shiver running down your spine. "Sorry...", you mumbled slightly embarrassed , a hum coming from them as you stepped to the side and let them access to their own locker.

You eyed him with a puzzled look before shaking your head and quickly making your way to your classroom. Nishimura Riki , he was like a riddle for you — he never talked to anyone in your class , he was quiet and kept to himself , he always had that intense glare in his eyes as if he doesn't want anyone to approach him. The only people he'd talk to were Taki and Maki — Taki from your parallel class and Maki who was a year under you. You couldn't read him at all , he was just so.... mysterious and intimidating.

You quietly greeted your classmates with a smile as you stepped into your classroom ,some of your classmates already being there as you made your way to your seat in the front — the bows in your hair bouncing with each step you took followed by the sounds of the keychains on your bag jingling. Riki soon followed after you , his headphones around his neck — putting them back on without uttering a word as your classmates greeted him to which he just nodded before plopping down on his seat in the back by the window. It was like , as if he wasn't even there.

"You're not going to eat lunch with us? But we have an one hour break! You'll have enough time to study after eating something", your friend tried to persuade you , her hand resting on your arm but you shook your head with a small smile. "I'll eat plenty after school , I really need to study for this upcoming exam so I should use my free time to do so", your friend just sighed at your response , her hand sliding off your arm. "Alright... but if you do choose to eat something , you know where to find us".

The library was quiet and almost empty as you entered it , looking around a little to find a spot and you swore you saw a familiar tuff of hair in the corner — black hair that appeared blue when the sun shone down on it , but you quickly shook your head, why would Riki be in here? He never really studied for the exams yet always aced them without much effort. You went to your signature spot and immediately started to study for the upcoming exam , being so focused that you failed to notice a pair of eyes watching you.

His eyes were intensively staring at you , his hand lifting the manga he was reading a little more up to make it seem like he was reading when he was actually busy staring at you. He felt like a creep , but you were just so pretty in his eyes , like a piece of art that pulled him into a trance. A small smile tugged on the corners of his lips as he watched the way your eyebrows furrowed , chewing on your pen as you tried to study all by yourself — that smile turned into a sad one , you always worked so hard , too hard. He wished he had he courage to approach you , but it always felt like as if he was losing the ability to speak or form proper sentences whenever you stood in front of him , just like this morning. A small sigh left his lips , pondering about what to do before he reached into his bag , a pink piece of paper in his hand — tearing it into a heart shape before he got his pen out and started to write something down.

He looked up one last time , making sure you weren't seeing him before he quickly disappeared into the hallways. His feet carried him to the snack machine with long struts , looking at all the different snacks to see what you might like and praying that he made the right pick — pressing the number and inserting coins into the coin slot , bending down to reach into the compartment and taking out the bar of chocolate. He would have done his usual routine , walking to the lockers , pretend to be on his own locker that was conveniently right above yours and secretly slipping the paper heart into your locker — but since the chocolate bar was too big for the slot , he opted to putting the note with the chocolate bar on your desk. Luckily , no one was in the classroom so no one will ever find out that it was him — quickly walking out of the classroom and going to look for his friends.

"Hm? Another one?", you mumbled as you saw the familiar paper heart on your desk, this time , with a chocolate bar — just what you needed. You gently picked up the note , your heart swelling as you read the message.

"I don't want to see you skipping lunch again , it's important to eat. Please stay healthy and also make sure to drink enough today :( - R"

Your curiosity only grew as you wanted to know who this person was , a small smile growing on your face as you sat down and unpacked the chocolate bar , letting the sweet treat melt on your taste buds as you chewed on it. Unbeknownst to you, Riki was looking at you through the open door as he walked past the classroom with Taki and Maki , a faint smile visible on his face.

You shivered as you sat on the swing on the empty playground, the moon shining down on you in the cold night — cursing to yourself for not bringing a jacket with you. Another fight with your parents and obviously , it was school related , like always — your parents only seemed to care about your grades , nothing else. Not knowing what to do after the fight , you just escaped even though you knew that you'd get another earful for going out late at night , but you didn't care as long as you got a little bit of freedom.

Your eyes were just looking ahead of you, spacing out as you enjoyed the night — until someone appeared in front of you , waving their hand in front of your face. You quickly snapped out of it , your eyes trailing up until you were met with their face , Riki? The two of you stared at each other until Riki awkwardly cleared his throat , looking to the side to find anything he could look at while his hands were nonchalantly tugged in his pockets. "So uhm.... what are you doing here at this time?", Riki mumbled , his voice so quiet that you almost didn't hear him. "Just enjoying the night..", you replied with a small smile , this was the first time he was actually talking with you. "Doesn't seem like that , something is bothering you", his reply surprised you , were you that obvious? The sand underneath Riki's feet made faint sounds as he walked over to the other swing , sitting down on it with his feet on the sand while yours were dangling a little above it.

"Why are you even out so late? It's almost 11pm", your voice was soft as you asked him, titling your head a little to look at him while your hands were holding onto the cold chains of the swing. "I got hungry and wanted a little snack , but don't switch topics", Riki replied , shaking the pocket of his jacket a little and you could hear the sound of plastic rustling. His eyes were intensively staring at you , sending shivers down your spine as they were almost piercing through you. "It's nothing much , really. My parents just bothered me again because of my grades", you gaze was fixated down to the sand , mindlessly leaning your foot down and drawing little patterns in the sand. "Your grades? But they're literally just straight A's ? Is that why you're always studying during lunch break?", he knew? You looked back up to him with a puzzled expression , his face emotionless until he realized his slip up and coughed a little. "Well I mean, I never see you during lunch break so I just guessed..", his voice trailed off a little , his gaze moving away from yours.

"But seriously , your grades are practically perfect", upon hearing his reply , you just sighed and shook your head. "Apparently not good enough", you could hear him muttering "ridiculous" under his breath , the sound of a plastic bag being opened rang in your ears , said plastic bag being held out to you with a small shake. "Want some?"

"Sure , thank you"

Ever since then , Riki started to talk more with you ,sometimes even keeping you company while you were studying during lunch break since in his words "it must be lonely to study all alone while everyone is eating". You've learned to realize that Riki wasn't like you thought , he just couldn't express himself well — he wasn't cold or emotionless , he liked to keep to himself because of shit that happened back when he was younger and blindly trusting people , he liked to play basketball and soccer , he held a strong affection towards cats and liked to microwave his strawberries. He was strange but in an endearing way.

"Don't you think that you've studied enough? You need to eat at least something", Riki asked as he had his chopsticks in his mouth , nudging his head a little towards your text book, sitting across from you. "It's fine , I'm not really hu—", as if on cue , your stomach grumbled making the two of you stare at each other in silence until he let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head a little as he slid his bento box in the middle. He picked up a small rice ball with his chopsticks , his other hand cupped underneath in case the rice ball would slip between the two sticks and drop down as he guided it towards you. "Open your mouth", he mumbled , the rice ball right in front of your mouth , your lips parting as you leaned your head a little forward and took the rice ball into your mouth — and god did it taste good.

"My mom makes the best food", he grinned slightly , watching as you did your little happy dance while eating the ball of rice while humming to yourself. "It really does taste good ..", You replied , your eyes gazing at this bento box, seeing him moving the bento box closer to you and holding his chopsticks out. "Have the rest of it , I don't really eat much", you gave him a bright smile followed by a small thank you , grabbing his chopsticks and digging into bento box. He watched you a little , his chin resting on the palm of his face before he looked away , a small blush spreading through his cheeks — you looked so adorable doing your little happy dance while eating and you ate from his chopsticks, his chopsticks that he previously had in his mouth making it an indirect kiss. An indirect kiss... Riki smiled a little to himself , internally kicking his feet and twirling his hair.

"Tell your mom that she's a good cook , I'm so full now", you patted your belly a little , your belly now filled and happy with the delicious food Riki let you eat — a small chuckled coming from Riki as he nodded and hummed before the bell rang. "Let's go", Riki nudged his head a little , signaling for you to grab your stuff as he stood up.

.

"Wait , I need to go to my locker", Riki stopped in his tracks , turning his body a little to watch as you opened your lockers , his heart fluttering when he saw the smile spreading on your face as you spotted the note he left while he was gone "using the toilet" but he was actually writing and slipping another note in your locker — where his notes really making you that happy?

"I'm proud of you..", you muttered under your breath as you read the note , your heart getting warmer — if only your parents would say the same to you. You quickly slipped the note into your pocket to keep it secure , putting your text books into the locker before the two of you went back to class.

Your hands were shaking as you received your test back , your parents are going to be so mad at you. You felt the tears starting to well up in your eyes , sure , a C+ was a dream for others but for you , it would mean hell. Riki observed you from the back , his eyebrows a little furrowed in worry as he saw the way your hands were shaking and how you put the piece of paper on your table in a defeated way. He could see the fat "C+" written on your paper , wasn't that good? But from what you told him , your parents were really strict when it came to academics, but he didn't know that they were so strict that it left you trembling like that.

How he wished he could just hug you , but he didn't had the courage to do so. The teacher momentarily left the classroom to copy something , she'd be back in 15 minutes considering the printer was all the way on the other side — his feet carrying him over to you. His hand came in contact with your shoulder , hesitantly rubbing your shoulder gently as he crouched down next to your seat so he could see your face. Your hair was covering your face a little , his hand moving without thinking as he tucked the strands of hair behind your ear. "Please don't cry.. it's going to be okay", Riki mumbled , your eyes widening a little as his thumb rubbed against your cheek, wiping away the tears that started to roll down your cheek without you realizing. "They're going to be so mad..", you whispered , closing your eyes to stop yourself from crying while Riki gently wiped your tears away. "Do you.. want to go to my place after school? So you can be a little distracted ..?", Riki offered , your breath hitching a little by his offer. Honestly , it sounded nice but your parents might get even more mad if you don't go back home after school immediately.

"Do you think they'll buy the lie?", You asked with a small sigh , feeling bad about lying to your parents but you really needed that distraction before all hell would break down on you — lying to your parents that you'd be going to the library to study more. "Of course they will , don't worry too much", Riki replied , glancing down at you , his arm bend back over his shoulder ,the strap of his bag hanging off his hand as his bag occasionally bumped against his back. His house wasn't far from the school , already reaching his home after 10 minutes — this was the first time you'd be at his place or even hanging out after school , realizing that his house was right across the playground.

He unlocked the door and held it open for you , stepping in after you and taking his shoes off as he loudly talked in his mother tongue — right , you forgot that he was Japanese. You followed after him and greeted his mother who was sitting on the couch with two other girls , greeting them as well with a shy smile before following Riki to his room. His room was surprisingly clean , there were a couple skateboards hung on his white wall, some posters off basketball players hanging on his wall , his bed was right by the window and pretty huge. He also had a gaming pc on his desk , a couch in front of the end of his bed and a TV hanging on his wall.

"Feel free to sit wherever you want", Riki said as he saw you looking around his room , seemingly looking calm but he felt like as if his heart was about to burst right out of his chest. "Okay..", you set your bag down and moved to sit on his bed , jumping a little as something popped up from the couch , a dog? The dog was curiously looking at you , it's tail wagging behind it as it was standing up on the couch with its front paws on the edge of it. "Ah , there you are Bisco", Riki walked over to the couch , picking Bisco up and setting the small dog down on the bed. The dog sniffed you a little before licking your hand which made you giggle. "Is it a girl or a boy?", You asked with a soft smile on your face as you gently pat the dog , looking up to see Riki just staring with a puzzled look. "ehh yeaaah let me ask my mom real quick", his reply made you giggle , he didn't know what gender his dog was? "I think a girl.... or a boy? Or was Bisco a girl..?", Riki mumbled a little before shaking his head. "Doesn't matter , Bisco is Bisco".

The next hours went by so quickly that it felt like as if only 10 minutes passed by the time it was 7pm, you wished you could stop the time. You didn't want to go back home yet but you knew that you needed. "You know ... you can call me if anything happens , i'm here for you", Riki said as he looked down to you , running a hand through his hair as stood by the door to his goodbyes to you. "I know , thank you. Also , thank you for inviting me over and distracting me", you smiled at him , your smile so pretty to him that he was almost swept away , mumbling a quiet "No problem".

His eyebrow twitched as he glared at the front , his glare so piercing that it could kill. "What the actual fuck" was what Riki thought as he watched that Ricky dude talking to you , pretending that he was the one slipping the heart shaped notes into your locker. What a scam. If he could , he would just go over to you and tell you that it was him and not Ricky — but he couldn't , he didn't had the courage to. Why was he such a wimp? He grumbled to himself a little , finally having enough when he saw that Ricky was about to your arm as he walked over to you. "Sorry , gotta steal her for second", Riki grumbled , taking your hand and dragging you away from Ricky. "Is something wrong?", You asked Riki , he never acted like that , worried that you did something wrong.

"It's nothing , I just feel icky with him around you. He's bad news", You titled your head a little at his reasoning , shaking your head with a small giggle. "Don't be silly , he was the one writing those sweet notes to me. He can't be bad news", Riki let out a harsh sigh , feeling a little frustrated. "No , he's not the one. I saw who put the notes in your locker and it certainly was not Ricky". "What? Then why have you never told me?". "Because they want to keep their identity hidden until they're ready to reveal themself to you", you nodded at his words a little , glancing back to Ricky with an unsure look. Why would he lie to you like that?

"Alright , thanks for telling me", you looked up to him , a small smile on your face before you froze slightly — Riki stepped closer to you , his hands reaching to your head as he fixed your ribbons. "Your Ribbons were getting loose".

Riki finally made his mind up , he clearly was having some competition with this guy — he decided to put his big boy pants on and finally reveal himself and confess to you. He quickly reached into his bag , tearing another pink note into a heart shape and quickly writing something down before secretly slipping it into your locker as he was pretending to do something on his own.

His heart was pounding as he did that , he just hoped that you would come.

"Meet me by the cherry blossom tree after school :) - R"

Was it finally happening ? Where you finally going to meet the person behind all the notes? Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you got closer to the cherry blossom tree , trying to see if anyone was there yet. Pink petals of the cherry blossom tree were dancing around in the air as you finally reached it , looking around to see if anyone was coming until a hand touched your shoulder. Before you could turn around , they covered your eyes. "You came..", his voice was deep and familiar , your breath hitching slightly — was this Riki..?

It has to be Riki , no one else you knew had a voice that deep and wore the same cologne that was lingering in the air but before you could utter anther word, he shushed you. "I'm sorry for keeping this from you.. I'm not the best at expressing myself. (Y/n), i fell in love with you. You always seemed so intimidated by me so I was afraid that I'd scare you off if I had approached you just like that ; so I started to leave notes in your locker. Every compliment , every reminder , everything i've said , I mean them. Word for word. I'm sorry that I didn't had the courage to straight up tell you , I was scared that I'd fumble with my words and mess everything up", he slowly removed his hand from your eyes , letting you turn around.

Your heart was pounding as you looked up to him , your cheeks getting warmer as you saw the soft flush spreading through his cheeks, his eyes lovingly gazing down to you. "Do you mean it? What pushed you to suddenly reveal yourself to me now?", your voice was soft as you spoke , almost as soft as the soft pink petals from the cherry blossom tree. "I mean it , everything. That Ricky guy... something in me snapped when he pretended like as if he was the one behind all the notes. I guess that was the push that I needed , I was afraid that he would take you from me without giving me a chance to at least confess to you".

"You're so silly. Even if it would've been Ricky , I would've still chosen you. I'm saying that I feel the same , ever since we've been getting closer , I've realized that I was starting to fall for you as well", a soft smile grazed your lips , your words shooting cupid arrows right into his heart with the way it fluttered . "Can I ... kiss you?", his question was slightly hesitant , unsure if he was going too fast or not but he couldn't help himself , relief washing over him when you nodded.

His fingers found their way to your chin , gently titling your head up as he stepped closer and leaned his head down — your hands holding onto his arms to keep yourself balanced as sparks exploded in your belly. His lips were so soft and gentle , kissing you so softly that it was almost featherlight. Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away , his lips a little glossy from your strawberry lip gloss.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, I will never stop leaving those notes in your locker"

I really want to go through nct's discography but holy cow where do I start I'm thinking 127 dream wish wayv u superm nd thsn the full albums

ok i apologize for the massive fucking wall of text that follows this paragraph but i'm in fact a huge nctzen (i listen to literally every subunit and solo i love them all)

127 is for sure the most popular but wish and wayv might be easier to start with because they have a smaller discography. unfortunately no matter how you slice it it'll take forever to get though because all the groups keep releasing banger after banger so try some sample songs to see which discographies you vibe with:

nct wish: hands up, wish. they're still in their teenage idoldom and their songs reflect that! very cute, very easy listening, very underrated. their bsides have a similar vibe to their tts and are very 2018 reminiscent. if you like riize, wannaone, or tws this is for you

nct dream: candy, istj, broken melodies, beatbox, smoothie, hot sauce. dream has 2 modes: early dream (cir. 2018-2020) with cutesy teen stuff and later dream (anything recent) that incorporates more 127 experimental sounds and is a little more mature but retains the amazing vocal quality they always had. their bsides range from ballads to heavenly hamonies (please listen to box omg) with a noisier song every once in a while. if you like seventeen, shinee, or stray kids this is for you

wayv: moonwalk, phantom, give me that. any given wayv tt is a good one so you'll never go wrong. melodic and life-changing, with harmonies to die for. generally a more mature vibe, and they can include noise really well. the raps lean into a darker heavier tone. their bsides range from melodic to club bangers, but each bside goes really well with the album. if you like exo, tvxq, taemin, or monsta x this is for you

nct 127: cherry bomb, fact check, fire truck, 2 baddies, kick it, superhuman, ay-yo, walk, simon says, sticker. very experimental, very fun. club music loves 127. their bsides tend to be a little softer? slower? idk how to describe it but they're usually showing off more of their vocal capabilities, so the tt isn't usually the same vibe as to what the rest of the album is. if you like stray kids, ateez, or block b this is for you

nct u: 7th sense, 90's love, make a wish, baggy jeans, baby don't stop, misfit. nct u bsides are usually to show off individual groups and the albums flow together really well, they're produced nicely. kind of a mix of the other ncts so if you like those you'll like nct u.

other: perfume, shalala, off the mask, nightwalker, smoke, little light, each completely different, each album perfect to listen to.

superM (bonus!): tiger inside, jopping. superm bsides all fuck hard and definitely should be listened to in full

i also have a separate list of nct b-side bangers but that can wait lmfao

HOWEVER NCT LOVES THEIR GENRE MIXING SO SOMETIMES THEY DO SONGS OUT OF LEFT FIELD THAT SOUND NOTHING LIKE THE REST OF THEIR STUFF WHICH IS OK BUT SOMETIMES IT'S A JUMP SCARE BASS LINE OR A RANDOM BALLAD

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 having lee heeseung as your brother definitely has it's ups and downs. despite being a month older than him, he was always there to defend you and help you out in tough situations. the downside? his cute best friend named park sunghoon was totally off limits.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 brothers bestfriend x fem!reader. friends to lovers. college au.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 enhypen members, jiheon (fromis_9) as yn's face, karina (aespa) & keeho (p1harmony)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 tinie tiny angst, swearings/cursings, suggestive jokes, friendly bantering, kys jokes

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 started sep 15 2024

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 CLOSED! @kpislby @jakeflvrz @univershoon @blvengene @mnxnii @eleanorheartschishiya @rkivesfilm @a-warners-girl0-0 @vveebee @yourssincerely-mimi @rikimuranishi02z @gweoriz @m1m1-70 @pshwrldd @onlyhyunjin @heelovesmeknot @shuichi-sama @viagumi @luvvhaerin @dismaldiary @intojaeyun @hoonatic @iilwji @morkiee @hoonieyun @yuniesluv @r1kification @channieismylove @who-tf-soddhi @nshmurarki @jiaant11 @isa942572 @champangejournal @lelsforlino @kurominjae @jiiyen @lxsunshine @psychotic-girl-666 @nujeskz @gqthicghoul @saeivra @evrymysun @augustloaf @mitmit01 @winuvs @simpjay @missychief1404 @yangjungwonnie @nctrawberries @nyfwyeonjun @nightmarej1n @tlnyjoong @enhabooks @jayjw16enxp @in-somnias-world

bold can't be tagged.

𝑳𝑰𝒁𝒁𝑰𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬'𝑺 yippieeee :3 second smau for sunghoon is here! i'm very excited to start this one.. randomly got this idea when i was listening to Pretty Boy by Isabel LaRosa.

PROFILES ONE & PROFILES TWO

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺

leave my future wife alone

thirst trap in the morning

boy what the hell

ouu that's not!

he's so hot

are you flirting with me?

have some decorum

hot trioz hang out

get lost sunwoo

wtf is heehoon?

make it happen

dress to impress

sneaky link?

cant lie to you

connecting the dots

our parents for real

amusement park day

not the hard launch

sunwoo vs sunghoon

heeseung finds out

TBA.

ANNIVERSARY BREEDING | s.jy

kinktober day 4! back to the masterlist here!

☆ boyfriend!jake x girlfriend!reader

; before you know it, you reach your 5th anniversary with your boyfriend, and before you feel it, he is 8inch deep inside you. but this time, he will leave a special present there for you.

genre ; smut

taglist ; @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma

“jake, this looks perfect!” you screamed, jumping into his arms immediately. “everything is so beautiful” you continued, face hidden into his chest. jake chuckled and held you close, kissing the top of your head. he tried so hard this time, it was completely touching. your 5th anniversary together finally arrived, and after 5 years of being a couple, he still loved you like day 1. and to prove that to you, he spent hours arranging the bedroom for you, countless brand names lying on the covered in rose petals bed.

“i knew you’d love it, babe” he whispered, hands falling down on your waist, you raising your head to see his gorgeous smile. jake couldn’t help but give you a quick peck on your lips, continuing to giggling after that. you looked so adorable, all excited for the surprise and he couldn’t stop himself from showing his affection to you.

hours later, you and your boyfriend were lying in bed together, all the presents unboxed and candles lit up. a restaurant booking was waiting for you in short, but right now all you wanted to do was feeling jake’s heartbeat against your cheek. naturally, you smiled and move your legs on top of his. he noticed so and grabbed your thigh, pulling your leg higher and closer.

“hey!” you shouted jokingly, right hand on his chest. jake winked at you simply and started massaging your leg, top to bottom. your skin felt so smooth under his touch, the shorts you were wearing giving him as much access as he wanted. his fingers trailed lines along your thigh while his eyes only looked at you.

“i love you a lot” he mentioned, “and you have no idea how content i am to be here with you still after all these years”. his words were so precious to you. he was the sweetest boy. you turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of jake’s profile—his soft features bathed in the faint light, his eyes half-closed, lost in the moment. a warmth bloomed in your chest, your heart racing a little faster. you could feel the tension between you both, growing with every breath, and before you could overthink it, you leaned in, brushing your lips softly against jake’s.

he inhaled sharply in surprise, his body stiffening for a moment before melting into the kiss. jake’s hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing across your skin as he deepened the kiss, taking control. his lips were soft but firm, moving with purpose as he guided the rhythm. your lips met again, this time more urgently, a mixture of tenderness and passion, as if years of emotions were unfolding with every kiss.

your fingers slid up jake’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. a quiet sigh escaped your lips, completely lost in the moment. jake shifted slightly, pulling you closer, his other hand resting at the small of your back, pressing you gently against him. he kissed you deeper, slower, savoring the taste, the feel of you against him.

as your bodies intertwined, jake’s hand found its way to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair. the kiss became more intense, almost desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. his breath was hot against your skin, and the world seemed to fade away, nothing existing outside of this moment.

jake pulled back for a brief second, his forehead resting against yours, your breaths mingling. his voice was low, husky as he whispered, “you’re everything to me.”

you didn’t need to respond. instead, you leaned back in, capturing his lips once more. this time, jake let out a quiet groan, completely giving in to the moment. his lips trailed down to your jaw, leaving a trail of soft kisses along your neck, making you shiver in anticipation. jake’s hands roamed over your body, every touch sending a spark through you, leaving your skin tingling in his wake.

you both knew the night wasn’t just about the kisses or the intimacy, but about the love that had grown between you over the years. every kiss, every touch was a reminder of how deeply you felt for each other, and as jake’s lips found their way back to yours, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.

“you know,” he stopped the kiss for a brief moment, whispering softly “we don’t have a lot of time left but i’m sure there can be a quickie if you’d like that” jake continued, a guilty smirk growing on his face. you nodded, more than happy to have him, and feel him, as close as possible. jake nodded back, trailing kisses down your body.

he undressed you in a rush, with the same softness and care though, doing the same to his own clothes. jake left wet marks on your chest area, teasing your nipples just a moment through the bra cup, trying to play with you and make you as desperate as possible for him. maybe there wasn’t enough time to give them enough attention yet, but a small tease never killed anyone.

then he reached your panties, beautiful pink ones, with a bow in the middle, almost screaming to jake to be ripped apart. but the gentle boyfriend of yours did not rip anything, instead he pulled them down and opened your legs for him, licking his lips at the view in front of him. he felt himself a second, his boner growing inside his boxers. he died to be inside you right now, to stretch you out again and again, to paint your walls and to make you cum endlessly.

jake took his boxers off as well, his hard cock ahead of you. it looked so delicious, a creamy precum sitting on his head. the previous kiss make-out affected him just as much as it did to you. he spit on his dick, pumping himself a few second while rubbing your entrance at the same time, getting the two of you ready for the small intercourse.

“are you ready baby?” he asked, a stupid smile on his face as you nodded again. there was no much to say, your excitement couldn’t be expressed. you just needed him already, so fucking much. so before you realised, he pushed himself inside you, forcing you to take him all. a loud scream came from you, following to cover your mouth in response. you did not expect him to go all the way, especially without a warning, but he seemed to enjoy it a lot, thrusting hard into you again.

“feels good, baby?” he asked another question, while keep thrusting again and again, but this question did not receive an answer, as your eyes were rolled back and breathe unstable. “you are adorable” he whispered, speeding up inside you and hitting your walls like in a race. he bent down, closer to your chest, and nibbled your nipples through the bra material again, enjoying giving you pleasure, even though limited.

you clenched around him, his cock hitting your spot endlessly while your tits jumping up and down when he stopped teasing your nipples. you held them down, and with another hand you rubbed your clit, giving yourself additional reasons to moan. jake noticed that and took your hand, pinning it down next to you. “who said you can touch yourself, baby?” he asked on a ironic tone and gave your neck a hickey, making you clench your teeth.

“i’ll take care of you fully”, jake reassured you, moving one of his hands down your body, surprising your clit with a fast rub. you moaned his name loudly, trembling under his body. it felt so good, you didn’t want this pleasure to ever stop. but unfortunately you felt too close to keep going, and you needed to cum so good while his cock went up and down inside you. “i will cum any second now” you whispered.

“me too, baby” jake confessed, licking your lips. “i don’t want to pull out” he added, kissing your lips deeply, his tongue asking for entrance, and you let him in. you whined when you heard him saying that, realising how much that thought turned you on. it’s been a while since you let him do that, and since you were on birth control, there shouldn’t be any bad outcomes.

“then cum inside me” you whispered,

“fuck” jake shouted, realising as well how fast that phrase brought him to release inside you. he kept going still, and you climaxed around his cock, a mix of white cum, both of yours, dripping down your pussy. your boyfriend refused to pull out still, being at comfort inside your cunt.

instead, he let his head fall on your chest, holding you tight. “i love you, y/n” jake mentioned, before giving your tummy a small kissy.

𝘾𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙈𝙮 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 | 𝙇.𝙃.

Pairing ⇀ Popular Bad Boy! Lee Heeseung x (F) Nerd! Reader

Synopsis ⇀ You were a nerd, always with your nose in a book, acing every test, and keeping a low profile. What comes as a normal life of yours soon takes a turn when your mom finally gets married to a man that you soon found out was Lee Heeseung dad, the school bad boy. Even though Heeseung doesn’t know you, he can’t help but want to corrupt you in every possible way. So what happens when new things start to unfold between you two that he’s never felt before with someone?

Genre ⇀ Smut, Angst

Warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!!!, Cheating, Karina is Heeseung’s girlfriend, Cursing, Crying, Minor character death, Family issues (on Heeseungs side), Heeseung is mean and toxic to reader a lot of times, Partying, Drinking, Bullying, Jealousy, Kissing, Making out, Biting, Hickeys, Receiving (m&f), Blowjobs, Eating out, Dom! Heeseung x Sub! Reader, Name calling (nerd, princess, etc.), Grinding, Semi public sex, Overstimulation (f), Fingering, Jealous sex, Rough sex, Breeding kink

W.c ⇀ 12.4k (oops)

A/n ⇀ Hi guys :), this fic honestly was fun and long to make. I was gonna make it longer but since I’m making a Sunghoon fic soon Kndecided to just keep it simple (somewhat). If you guys want a request of another fic/drabble I would not mind at all! This fic is based off of this song so take a listen to it! None of these characters act like this in real life! Like, Comment, Reblog, etc.. Not proofread!

Second marriages were a bitch. As much as you loved seeing your mom feeling happy again, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of something missing. Your Happiness. You wouldn’t say you were exactly happy when your mom sat you down at the dining table and saying she was getting married.

You remember how nervous she sounded, her fingers fidgeting in stress. You didn’t know you could make her feel that way over marriage. You’ve always been close to your dad until he died. It was a hard time coping, which is why you bury yourself with books and studies. You were called a nerd by other people though, but that’s not the whole point why you were moving.

Moving into a new house was supposed to be a fresh start for you and your mom. After years of living alone, your mom finally found happiness with a man you didn’t know at all, and their marriage meant a new family dynamic.

You weren’t sure if the mysterious man however had a kid. You were hoping he didn’t, it would mean less problems to you and babysitting when they go out. Only if you knew who would be the person that would be with you and your happy little life from that day on.

“Is he rich?” You asked your mom who was driving you guys to the house. You noticed she was less nervous now, but still had her fidgeting habit going on.

“I didn’t marry him because he is rich sweetie. I married him because I loved him.” You mom replied.

You shrugged your shoulders, “So he is rich.” You mumbled. Your mom didn’t say anything and continued driving with the music low. You didn’t mention anything else after that.

You and your mom drove through the winding roads, the scenery gradually changing from modest homes to grand estates. Your heart raced with anticipation and curiosity.

Once your mom finally came to a stop at a big house, your mouth went agape. The mansion loomed ahead, an architectural masterpiece that seemed to stretch endlessly. The sprawling gardens were meticulously maintained, with fountains and statues dotting the landscape. You couldn't help but gape at the sheer size and opulence of it all.

"Wow," You whispered, more to yourself than anyone else.

Your mom glanced over at you with a knowing smile, "Impressive, isn't it? Mr. Lee has done very well for himself."

As you pulled up to the grand entrance, you couldn’t help but think of the last name. Lee? It’s sounded somewhat familiar to you, but you couldn’t put a finger on it.

As you guys got out the car, Mr. Lee stepped out to greet you, his smile as warm and welcoming as ever, "Welcome! I hope the drive wasn't too tiring," He said. He went over to your mom and gave her a quick peck to the lips. You mentally gag at the way they were already being loved dovey.

He then went towards you, giving you a quick handshake that you appreciated before he ushered you both inside.

The interior was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with high ceilings, elegant chandeliers, and art pieces that looked like they belonged in a museum. You tried to take it all in, but it was almost too much.

“This place is amazing," you said, still in awe. He chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his eyes.

"I'm glad you like it. Come on, let me show you around." He insisted. As you followed him through the grand halls and lavish rooms, you couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. It wasn’t something you were used too.

You were used to your cozy house that had a tiny garden on one side of your front yard, the claustrophobic hallway you used to run in when you were little. The small living room that only fitted up to five people. Thinking about your old house already felt nostalgic. Walking through this though, you didn’t know if you were gonna get used to it.

Mr. Lee finally came to a halt at the stairs and stared over at you, “The maid can show you your room. She knows where it’s at.”

You noticed a middle aged woman next to Mr. Lee smiling at you. You gave him a curt nod before following the maid upstairs. As you walked in the halls with the maid you couldn’t help but stare at the photos hung up.

You didn’t see any photos of a women or a kid anywhere with Mr. Lee, so maybe you really were gonna be the only child. Some part of that made you feel giddy. The maid finally stops at a door and opens it. You went inside in awe. Your room was beautiful to say the least.

The room was spacious, with high ceilings and large windows that let in streams of natural light. The walls were painted a soft pastel color, giving the room a serene and welcoming feel. A plush, king-sized bed sat in the center, adorned with fluffy pillows and a cozy duvet.

To one side of the room, there was a stylish desk with a comfortable chair, perfect for studying or writing. Shelves lined the walls, ready to be filled with your favorite books and trinkets. A beautiful vanity stood in one corner, complete with a large mirror and ample storage for all your beauty essentials.

The best part, however, was the view. Walking over to the windows, you pulled back the curtains and gasped. The room overlooked a stunning garden, filled with vibrant flowers and lush greenery. You could already imagine spending hours sitting by the window, enjoying the peaceful scenery.

You couldn't help but smile as you took it all in. This room was everything you had ever dreamed of and more. It was your own little sanctuary, a place where you could relax, unwind, and be yourself.

You turned to look over at the maid who was still smiling, “Beautiful isn’t it? It was my idea since I’m the only women in this house.” The maid chimed.

“It’s very beautiful. Thank you.” You responded. She gave you chuckle and a nod before slowly shutting the door, leaving you alone in the room.

As you started to unpack your belongings and make the room your own, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. This was your new home, and you couldn't wait to create beautiful memories here.

The sun was setting when you finally finished unpacking a few boxes. You let out a sigh and wiped your sweat off your forehead. You checked the time and saw that it was almost time for you to head to sleep.

As you were about to move a box, you suddenly felt the random urge to use the restroom, “Now that I thought about it I haven’t you used the restroom all day.” You murmured to yourself. You opened your bedroom door and stepped out.

You wandered through the unfamiliar hallways of Mr. Lee’s mansion, trying to remember the directions he had given you to the bathroom. Every door looked the same, and you were starting to feel a bit lost.

Pushing open yet another door, you suddenly froze. There, in the middle of the room, stood a boy you knew all too well. Lee Heeseung, shirtless with only a towel wrapped around him. It seemed like he just got out of the shower since his hair was still wet. His eyes locked onto yours, and you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" You blurted out, quickly averting your gaze, "I was just looking for the bathroom.”

Heeseung's expression shifted to one of annoyance, "Do you always barge into rooms without knocking?" He snapped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I-I didn't mean to," You stammered, feeling even more flustered. "I just got lost."

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles even more prominent, "Typical. Can't even follow simple directions from my dad."

You felt a mix of embarrassment and irritation at his rude comments, "Look, I said I was sorry. It was an accident. A-And your dad didn’t give me any directions!”

Heeseung scoffed, a scowl on his lips, "Whatever. Just get out of here."

You quickly backed out of the room, closing the door behind you. As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. Angry, embarrassed, upset, and flustered? You groaned as you entered your room again and slammed it shut. You plopped on your bed.

The thought suddenly came to you. Lee Heeseung owns this house too, and you don’t think he’s gonna be nice to you anytime soon. You sighed and rolled on your bed. You were just hoping tomorrow won’t go bad. And ignoring the fact that you still had to use the restroom.

The next morning, you groggily made your way down to the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. As you rounded the corner, you froze. There, standing by the kitchen island, was Heeseung, chatting casually with your mom and his dad. Your mom noticed you first and smiled warmly.

"Good morning, sweetie! Come here, I want you to meet someone," She said, beckoning you over. You walked over, feeling a bit nervous under Heeseung's gaze.

"This is Heeseung," Your mom introduced, "Mr. Lee son."

Heeseung smirked, looking you up and down. "Oh, so you're the one who lives here? I was wondering why the house felt so... ordinary."

You felt your face heat up with anger. He met you yesterday and now he’s gonna act like he doesn’t know you? The audacity! You forced a smile and replied, "Nice to meet you too, Heeseung."

Your mom looked between the two of you, clearly sensing the tension. "Well, I'm sure you'll get along just fine once you get to know each other," She said, trying to lighten the mood.

You shot Heeseung one last glare before turning on your heel and heading back to your room. You rather eat breakfast at school than in front of him.

You adjusted your glasses and gave yourself one last look in the mirror before grabbing your backpack. Today was going to be another long day at school, but you were ready for it. As you reached for the doorknob, the door swung open, and you found yourself face to face with Heeseung.

Heeseung leaned against the doorframe with a smirk playing on his lips, "Hey, nerd," He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You sighed, already feeling the tension, "What do you want, Heeseung?"

He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Just a little reminder," He said, his tone turning serious, "When we're at school, don't act like we live together. In fact, don't act like you even know me."

You felt a pang of hurt but masked it with a cool expression, "Don't worry, Heeseung. I have no intention of ruining your reputation."

Heeseung's smirk returned, "Good. Just keep to yourself, and we'll be fine."

With that, he stepped aside, letting you pass. You walked down the hallway, feeling a mix of emotions. Living with Heeseung was already challenging, but pretending like you didn't know each other at school was going to be even harder.

As you walked out the door, you couldn't help but wonder why he cared so much about what others thought. But one thing was clear: you were determined to survive this, no matter how difficult Heeseung made it.

Classes slowly came along, you hated how tired you already were. But one thing for sure is that it was the walking this morning. You had to walk to school while Heeseung just drove right past you with his expensive car, not even offering to ask if you wanted a ride to the same damn school.

When it finally came to lunch you decided to go to the library, a place where you could immerse yourself in books and escape the chaos of high school life.

You were hunched over a thick biology textbook, diligently taking notes when you heard the familiar sound of giggles and whispers. You tried to ignore it, but the voices grew louder until they were impossible to tune out.

"Look at her, always with her nose in a book," One of the girls sneered. "Does she think she’s better than us?"

You kept your eyes on your notes, hoping they would get bored and leave. But they didn’t.

"Hey, nerd," Another girl said, leaning over your table and blocking your view, "Do you even have a life outside of studying?"

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, “I’m just trying to study. Can you please leave me alone?"

The girls laughed, and one of them snatched your notebook, “Oh, look at this! She’s taking notes like a good little student."

You reached out to grab your notebook back, but they held it out of reach, teasing you. Just then, you saw Heeseung walk past the library entrance. Your heart leaped with a strange mix of hope and anxiety. Surely, he would help you. After all, you shared a house, even if he pretended you didn’t exist at school.

"Heeseung!" you called out, your voice wavering slightly.

Heeseung paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours. But instead of coming to your aid, he simply looked away and continued walking, as if you were invisible.

The girls burst into laughter again, "Even Heeseung doesn’t care about you. How pathetic."

You felt a lump form in your throat, but you refused to cry in front of them. Summoning all your strength, you snatched your notebook back and gathered your things, leaving the library as quickly as you could.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. You couldn’t focus in class, your mind replaying the humiliating scene over and over. When the final bell rang, you headed home, determined to confront Heeseung.

You found him in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. "Heeseung, we need to talk," You said, your voice firm.

He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow, “What’s up, nerd?"

You took a deep breath, "Why didn’t you help me today? You saw those girls making fun of me, and you just walked away."

Heeseung shrugged, closing the fridge door, "Not my problem."

Your frustration boiled over, "How can you say that? We live together, Heeseung. You could have at least said something to them."

Heeseung leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, "Look, what happens at school stays at school. I’m not your babysitter. Deal with your own problems."

You stared at him, disbelief and hurt washing over you, "Is that really how you feel? That I’m just a problem?"

Heeseung’s expression softened for a brief moment, but he quickly masked it with indifference, "Yeah, pretty much."

You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, "Fine. If that’s how it is, then don’t expect anything from me either."

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Heeseung standing in the kitchen. As you retreated to your room, you couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal.

You had always known Heeseung was a popular person but also bad at the same time, for his rebellious nature, skipping classes, and getting into trouble, but you had hoped there was more to him. Today, he had shown you exactly who he was, and it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You were glad tomorrow was the weekend which meant you can just sleep all the embarrassment away from today. You quickly changed and went right to sleep, not even bothering to take off your glasses.

The morning sunlight gently filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred awake, feeling unusually refreshed. As you reached for your glasses, you noticed they were perfectly set on the nightstand. Confused, you distinctly remembered falling asleep with them on.

You slipped on your glasses and made your way downstairs, the aroma of breakfast guiding you. Entering the kitchen, you saw your mom chatting with Mr. Lee, but there was no sign of Heeseung.

“Good morning, sweetheart," Your mom greeted you with a smile.

“Morning, Mom," You replied, still puzzled, "Did you take off my glasses last night?"

She shook her head, looking just as confused, “No, I didn't. Maybe Heeseung did before he left with his friends?"

Your eyebrows furrowed more. Heeseung came into my room? You shook your head and gave your mom a tight smile. Whatever she was thinking had to be wrong. Not after what happened last night.

Your mom then got up and exscused herself to the restroom. You sat at the kitchen table, enjoying the breakfast your mom had prepared. Mr. Lee joined you, sipping his coffee and looking thoughtful.

"Did Heeseung ever get a chance to talk to you?" he asked casually.

You hesitated for a moment, the best you could do is lie after anything that’s happening between you, "No, we didn't have time to talk."

Heeseung's dad sighed, shaking his head. "That boy... He never wants to talk to anyone aside from me and his close friends. It's like he's in his own world sometimes."

Hearing this, you felt a pang of guilt for lying. You knew Heeseung was reserved, but it hurt seeing that his father noticed that too.

“I-I mean we say our hi’s and byes. We just don’t really have a full conversation.” You spoke.

His father nodded, “I’m just hoping you talk to him soon. I’m not trying to put any pressure on the two of you, but Heeseung has always done bad things after my divorce with my ex wife. He’d always go out doing bad stuff and getting in deep trouble. Then he’d go partying and drinking and come back home late. I feel like if you guys talked he’d understand on your side that it’s not just about messing up your life for the worse.”

You stared at him pitful. Maybe if you could try to talk to Heeseung about everything with his dad it could help, but then again it’s not your problem to fix.

“I understand where your coming from Mr. Lee. I’ll try to talk to Heeseung more often.” You smiled softly. Mr. Lee smiled back grateful. Your mom soon came back as you all continued eating your food.

The sun began setting when you decided to finally leave your room after studying for so long. You tiptoed downstairs and headed to the living room. There you saw Heeseung playing video games on the big TV yelling at his friends.

“Dude what the fuck? I said left dumbass!” He shouted. You rolled your eyes and went to the kitchen and grabbed a snack. You took a piece of candy bar and chewed on it while heading back upstairs while hearing Heeseung cuss out his friends.

You shut the door and grabbed your phone as you sat on your bed. You scrolled through social media for a while when all of a sudden your door slammed open. Your eyes widened when you saw Heeseung looking angrily at you.

His eyes widened when he saw you holding something, “Hey! Did you just steal my candy bar?"

You looked up, then looked down at the candy that was already almost gone. Feeling a bit guilty but also defiant, “I was hungry and it was just sitting there."

Heeseung frowned, clearly upset, "That was mine! I was saving it for later."

"I'm sorry, Heeseung. I didn't think you'd mind. I'll get you another one." You reasoned, but Heeseungs ant having any of it.

Before he was gonna rant, he suddenly stopped himself, “I don’t want another one.” He suddenly said.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “T-Then what do you want?” You stuttered. You mentally slapped yourself from how nervous you sounded. Heeseung didn’t say anything and suddenly walked to you, pushing you on your bed. You let out a gasp and stared up at him on top of you.

“Heeseung what are you-“

“Shut up.” He cut you off. You felt his breath on your face. You lay frozen underneath him, waiting for his next move. He took one of his hands and rubbed along your leg making you jolt.

“Hee-“

“I said shut up.” He snapped. You immediately shut your mouth. He then lowered his head on your neck. You felt his hot breath hitting your cold neck. Your eyes shot wide when you felt him lay a soft kiss on it.

“What if I wanna taste something sweeter?” He mumbled in your neck. You let out a whimper when he suddenly squeezed your leg tight. You shut your eyes closed when he finally lifted his head back up, staring right at you.

You waited, but nothing came. Instead you felt his weight get off of you making you slowly open your eyes. You saw him on the side of your bed, with his half eaten candy bar in his hand.

“Next time ask.” Was all he said before leaving your room, slamming it shut. You finally let go of the breath you were holding on to and held your chest.

What the fuck just happen.

After that incident you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the night. You didn’t wanna see Heeseung after what happened. You were deep into your late-night study session when a faint noise downstairs caught your attention.

Curious and a bit concerned, you quietly made your way down the stairs. The sight of Heeseung, dressed in his usual bad boy attire and slipping on his leather jacket, stopped you in your tracks.

"Heeseung, where are you going?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung glanced at you, his expression unreadable, "It's none of your business," He replied curtly.

You frowned, sensing something was off. "I know you're going to a party. You shouldn't go. What if your dad finds out?"

Heeseung scoffed, shaking his head, “I don't care what he thinks. I need to get out of here."

You stepped closer, your concern growing, "Please, Heeseung. It's not worth the trouble. You know how much your dad worries about you."

Heeseung paused, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. For a second, you thought he might reconsider. But then he turned away, determination in his stride, "I'll deal with it," he muttered before heading out the door.

You stood there, feeling a mix of worry and helplessness, hoping that Heeseung would stay safe and that one day he might understand how much people cared about him.

You didn’t get how he turns so fast from you. The mix emotions he gives you that leaves you a mess. Has he always had that impact on someone? You went back upstairs deciding to just leave it alone. Besides, he’ll never listen to you.

After few hours of thinking and worrying for Heeseung you finally were able to go to sleep. The house was silent and dark, when you heard the creak of your bedroom door. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see Heeseung stumbling into your room. He reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were unfocused.

"Heeseung? What are you doing here?" You asked, sitting up in bed.

Without a word, he collapsed onto the bed beside you, his head resting on your pillow, "I just... I needed to see you," He slurred, his voice thick with alcohol.

You frowned, worried about his state, "You shouldn't be here. You need to sleep it off."

Heeseung ignored your concern, his eyes half-closed, "You know, you're always so... so smart. I wish I could be like you. Those fuckers.. don’t know what their talking about," He mumbled, his words tumbling out in a disjointed stream.

Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. Shocked, you froze for a moment before instinctively slapping him.

Heeseung pulled back, a hurt look in his eyes. "I... I'm sorry," he muttered, getting up and stumbling out of the room.

You sat there, your heart racing, trying to process what had just happened. You didn’t know what came over you to slap him. You then touch your lips. His faint soft lips printed on yours. It then hit you, he was your first kiss.

The next morning, you woke up feeling groggy and disoriented. The events of the previous night played on a loop in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. As you walked down the hallway, you saw Heeseung approaching from the other end. Your heart raced, and you felt a wave of panic wash over you.

Heeseung walked past you without a second glance, as if nothing had happened. Confused and hurt, you turned to confront him, "Heeseung, about last night..."

Heeseung stopped and looked at you, his expression blank, “What about last night?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

“You- don’t you remember?" you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Heeseung frowned, shaking his head, "I don't remember anything from last night. I was pretty out of it."

His words felt like a punch to the gut. You had been so affected by what happened, but to him, it was just a forgotten moment in a drunken haze. Feeling a mix of frustration and sadness, you walked away to the restroom, trying to push the memory to the back of your mind.

How could he forget that? Now you're the only one to remember the mess he had made. You did your usual in the bathroom and came out. You didn’t Heeseung anywhere and went back to your room. Maybe going on a walk would be fine to clear the head. As you finished getting dressed, you opened your door and headed downstairs.

You didn’t noticed Heeseung anywhere and put on your shoes before heading out the door. As you stepped outside, you saw him playing basketball in the driveway.

Heeseung glanced up, noticing you, "Where are you going?" he asked, pausing his game.

"For a walk," You replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He simply nodded and went back to his game, the sound of the ball bouncing echoing in the quiet morning. You continued walking, but your mind kept drifting back to the way he had kissed you. The memory was vivid, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake it off.

Each step you took seemed to bring back a fragment of that moment, making it harder to move on. You felt a pang of longing mixed with the hurt of knowing he didn't remember. The walk, meant to be a distraction, only made you more aware of the emotions you were trying to escape.

You came back a few minutes later, it was just a walk around the neighborhood anyways. Heeseung was still playing, not paying any mind to you. You walked past him and went inside. You decided to do your studies in the kitchen.

You went upstairs to grab your essentials before coming back down and sitting at the kitchen table, buried in a pile of homework. Heeseung soon came inside and sauntered in the kitchen. He grabbed an apple, and sat across from you. He watched you intently, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Why do you always have your head in a book? Don't you ever do anything fun?" he asked, taking a bite of the apple.

"Studying is fun for me," you replied curtly, not looking up.

Heeseung laughed, "You really are something else."

You rolled your eyes, “At least I don’t go out partying and getting drunk and coming back and doing the unthinkable.”

Heeseung stopped chewing and stared at you with an unreadable expression. It was silent for a few minutes and that’s when you were gonna apologize but he beat you to it.

“Did I bring my girlfriend over yesterday?” He whispered. You paused and looked at him. He has a girlfriend? You felt your mouth go completely dry.

Heeseung has a girlfriend. When the hell did he had a girlfriend? That’s when it finally came to you. Heeseung has a girlfriend, and he kissed you. Heeseung noticed your shocked face and waved his hand in front of your face, “Nerd? You there?” He said.

“Y-You have a girlfriend?” You questioned.

Heeseung frowned before nodding, “Haven’t told my dad though since he would freak out, but now that I’ve brung her over it’s fine.”

He thinks he brung her over last night. He really doesn’t remember anything, you thought.

“No you didn’t bring her over Heeseung, “ You didn’t know if it was even okay to say anything at this point, “I-I was talking about what you did with me-“

“Y/n sweetie were heading out can you lock the door?” You mom yells from the living room. You gasped, completely forgetting that your mom and Mr. Lee were even home.

“Coming!” You yelled back. You ignored Heeseungs look and went to your mom in the living room. She kissed your cheek before shutting the door. You locked it and headed back to the kitchen.

You noticed Heesueng looked deep in thought. You slowly walked over to him, “Heeseung-“

"Forget about last night," He said abruptly, his voice lacking its usual edge.

You blinked, taken aback, "What do you mean?"

Heeseung's eyes shifted away from yours, "Just forget it happened," he repeated, more firmly this time. Without waiting for a response, he got up from his seat and walked away, leaving you alone with a whirlwind of emotions.

You decided to shake it off and bury yourself in your homework, but his words kept coming back. Each time you tried to focus on a math problem or a history chapter, your mind wandered back to the way he said it so causally. It was impossible to concentrate, and your frustration grew with each passing minute.

As night fell, you heard the familiar sound of Heeseung's laughter outside. You looked out the window and saw him heading out with his friends, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. You didn’t even hear him leave. The sight of him leaving made your heart sink. A mix of anger and sadness welled up inside you, he really doesn’t learn.

The next morning, something felt off. You woke up and immediately went to Heeseungs room. You knocked on the door about five times before opening it, that’s when you noticed that Heeseung's bed was untouched. Panic started to creep in as you realized he hadn't come home. You tried to rationalize it, telling yourself that he might have crashed at a friend's place. But the nagging worry wouldn't go away.

As you made your way downstairs, you were greeted by Mr. Lee. His eyes were filled with concern, and you could tell he had noticed Heeseung's absence as well. "Did Heeseung mention anything to you last night? He didn’t come home last night or today." he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing. You knew you should tell him the truth, that Heeseung had gone out and hadn't come back. But something held you back. Maybe it was a sense of loyalty to Heeseung you didn’t know of, or perhaps a fear of getting him into trouble, "No, nothing happened," You lied, forcing a smile, “He probably just stayed over at a friend's place."

Heeseung's dad didn't look convinced, but he nodded, seemingly accepting your explanation. You quickly grabbed your bag and headed out the door, eager to escape the tense atmosphere.

School felt like a blur. You couldn't focus on your classes, your mind constantly drifting back to Heeseung. You scanned the hallways, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he was nowhere in sight. Each passing hour only intensified your worry.

By lunchtime, you were a bundle of nerves. You sat alone at your usual spot in the cafeteria, poking at your food without any real appetite. The absence of Heeseung was worrying you like crazy, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

As the day dragged on, you found yourself checking your phone repeatedly, hoping for a message or a call from him. But there was nothing. The silence was deafening, and the worry gnawed at you like a relentless beast.

You knew you had to find him, to make sure he was okay. But where to start? Heeseung was a master at keeping his whereabouts a mystery, and you had no idea where he could be. The uncertainty was suffocating, and you felt utterly helpless.

As you walked home that evening, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. You couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened, something that had kept Heeseung from coming home.

Heeseung finally stumbled through the front door late at night, his usual nonchalant demeanor firmly in place. You had been sitting on the couch, unable to focus on anything but the worry gnawing at your insides. The moment you saw him, relief flooded through you, but it was quickly replaced by a mix of frustration and concern.

"Heeseung, where have you been?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He shrugged, kicking off his shoes and heading towards the stairs, "Out with friends. I'm going to bed," He said casually.

Before he could take another step, Mr. Lee appeared, blocking his path. "Heeseung, we need to talk," Mr. Lee said sternly.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, "Not now, Dad. I'm tired."

But his dad wasn't having it, "No, we're talking now. You can't just come and go as you please without any explanation."

The tension in the room was palpable as the argument escalated, “And who are you to stop me?” Heeseung snapped. You gasped at the way Heeseung said that to Me. Lee.

Me. Lee let out a deep breath through his nose, “I am your father Heeseung.”

Heeseung scoffed, “You lost that status the second you told mom you wanted a divorce.”

Everything else just felt faint to you. Voices were raised, accusations were thrown, and you could see the hurt and anger in Heeseung's eyes. Finally, he stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

You hesitated for a moment, watching as Mr. Lee went to sit on the kitchen table. You decided to follow Heesueng. You found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. Without a word, you sat down next to him and gently placed a hand on his back. Heeseung looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace, “It's okay, Heeseung. I'm here for you," you murmured.

Heeseung finally let the tears fall, his body shaking with silent sobs. You held him close, offering what comfort you could. Gradually, the tension began to ease, and the exhaustion of the day caught up with both of you.

Eventually, you both lay down on his bed, still holding each other. As the night wore on, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the day fading away in the warmth of both of your presence.

The next morning, you woke up early, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. You got ready for school, the house unusually quiet. As you walked into the kitchen, you were surprised to see Mr. Lee and your mom sitting at the table, sipping coffee and chatting.

"Good morning," you greeted them, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Good morning, dear," your mom replied with a warm smile, "Heeseung's in the shower. He'll be out soon."

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. You quickly got dressed and gathered your things for school. Just as you were finishing up, Heeseung emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and a towel slung over his shoulders.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than usual.

"Hey," you replied, trying to read his expression.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment before speaking again, "Do you want a ride to school?"

You blinked in surprise. Heeseung offering to drive you to school was unexpected, especially after the tense night before. "Uh, sure. That'd be great."

As you walked to his car, you couldn't help but notice how different he seemed. The usual edge in his demeanor was softened, and he seemed genuine. The ride to school was quiet, but it wasn't the uncomfortable silence you had feared. Instead, it felt comforting.

When you arrived at school, Heeseung turned to you, "Thanks for being there last night."

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Anytime, Heeseung. Anytime."

Students watched as you and Heeseung got out of his cars. Whispers and chatters were heard around you, but you didn’t seem to care. Heeseung walked you to your class and bid you goodbye.

You didn’t know why Heeseung decided to change like this, but at the same time you weren’t complaining.

The school day went by fast to you. You didn’t see Heeseung at lunch, but decided to ignore it. You stepped out of the school gates and saw Heeseung. He made eye contact with you. You slowly walked over to him confused.

“Are you waiting for someone?” You asked him. He nodded his head and tilted it.

“I was waiting for you.” He spoke. Your eyes widened.

“Me? Why?” You mumbled. It was more like a question to yourself than him.

“Cause I can? Come on I’m getting tired. Feels like I’ve been standing here for ages.” He said. You guilty got into the car.

The car ride was silent when you guys got back. You and Heeseung both got out of his car, shutting it with slam. As you were gonna go to the door Heeseung suddenly grabbed your wrist. Your eyebrows furrowed as you look at him.

"I need your help," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "My dad owes me an apology, and I think you can help me get it."

You were taken aback. Was that why he was being nice to you? You didn’t know what to feel.

“Is that why you were nice to me today?” You mumbled, feeling somewhat offended.

Heeseung shook his head confused, “Of course not. I was being nice because of what you did yesterday. No one has ever done that before.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, you began to think that maybe, just maybe, Heeseung was more than his bad boy facade.

“Okay, I’ll help you.” You said. Heeseung gave you a sweet smile that made your feel some type of way. Nonetheless, you gave him a smile back.

Over the next few days, Heeseung's behavior changed. He started doing small, nice things for you—making you coffee in the morning, helping you with your chores, and even engaging in conversations about your interests.

You couldn’t help but notice how when he listened to you, he had a look in his eyes that made your heart race. How he listened to every last detail you’d tell about anything. How he makes comments about little things about you that you’ve never mentioned to him or anyone else. You felt like Heeseung was actually making a change towards you.

On the other hand, you gave out advice for him to follow to make his dad apologize, like suggesting he have an honest conversation about his feelings. Surprisingly, Heeseung took your advice to heart.

Finally, the day came when Heeseung confronted his dad about everything. It didn’t come as easy though.

“Heeseung, I want you to understand the importance of this family. I know we all don’t understand you the way your mom did, but I’m willing to make an effort to show you to see the good side of life.” Mr. Lee said. You noticed Heeseung was a lot calmer than the last time. While on your end, you were praying to god nothing breaks out into fits of anger.

“I know, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how our family used to be. I miss how we we used to be.” Heeseung whispered the last part under his death.

You watched how Mr. Lee's face went from upset to sad. You felt bad that you couldn’t step in and comfort. The moment those two words fell out, Mr. Lee lips, for the first time you saw a glimmer of vulnerability in Heeseung's eyes. They hugged and departed from each other. Mr. Lee gave you a knowing nod with you smiling back.

Heeseung looked over at you and gave you a small smile. That was the first time he ever smiled at you. You gave a him a big smile back with a thumbs up. Just as you thought everything will finally get better, you soon found out how wrong you were.

Later that night, Heeseung, having achieved his goal, didn't stick around to celebrate with you. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and headed out to a party, leaving you standing alone in the house, feeling used and betrayed.

You sat on the couch, staring at the door he had just walked out of, wondering if any of the kindness he had shown you was real or just a means to an end. The realization stung, but it also made you stronger.

Instead of letting him leave like that, your only thought was to follow him. You knew where he was going after hearing a phone call with his friend about a party that was happening later today. You grabbed your moms keys and left the house. You knew the address since you also overheard when his friend was on speaker.

You had never been to a party before, and tonight, you decided to see for yourself what drew him away so often. The party was at a house a few blocks away, already throbbing with loud music and laughter. You hesitated at the doorway, but your determination pushed you inside.

The atmosphere was overwhelming, a stark contrast to your usual quiet evenings. You scanned the room for Heeseung, hoping to catch a glimpse of him amidst the chaos.

As you navigated through the crowd, you accidentally bumped into someone. You groaned and looked up. Your eyes widened when you saw it was one of Heeseung's friends, Park Sunghoon. He was tall, with a smug smile that made you instantly freeze, "Hey, aren't you that nerd that was with Heeseung that one day? What are you doing here?" he questioned.

You straightened your posture, trying to muster some confidence, "It's none of your business why I'm here," you replied, your voice steady despite the knot in your stomach.

Sunghoon let out a deep chuckle before leaning on the wall. You weren’t gonna lie and say he didn’t look attractive doing that, “Right. None of my business. So did you just come here to get a quick fuck?”

You gasped at his sentence, “W-What? No! I-I was here just because I can!” You stuttered. Sunghoon smug smile never left when he suddenly leaned towards you. Both of your face close to each other.

“You know, if you ever wanna have fun, you know where I’m at. Heeseung doesn’t need to know.” Sunghoon whispered. Even though the music was booming loudly, you could still hear him from how close he was to you. His breath smelling like alcohol and somewhat of a minty smell.

Just as you were about to walk away, Heeseung suddenly appeared beside him. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of recognition. But then, his expression turned cold.

“What are you doing Sunghoon?" He coolly asked, acting like you aren’t there. Sunghoon backed away from you and gave Heeseung a pat.

“Nothing man. Just talking to this nerd. You know her right?” Sunghoon teased. He knew the answer, but to your confusion he still asked.

Heeseung shrugged nonchalantly, "No idea who she is," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

Feeling a mix of embarrassment and hurt, you turned on your heel and pushed your way through the crowd, desperate to escape.

Thats when the tears stung your eyes as you made your way back to the apartment. The night air was cool against your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest.

You reached your car, fumbling with the keys. You finally managed to unlock the door and slid into the driver's seat, resting your head on the steering wheel. The sound of the passenger door opening startled you. You looked up, eyes widening as Heeseung climbed in beside you.

"What are you doing?" You asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and confusion.

Heeseung leaned back in the seat, his expression unreadable, "Why were you at the party?" He asked, ignoring your question.

You looked away, not wanting to admit the truth, "I just wanted to see what it was like," You muttered.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, "You don't belong in places like that," He said firmly, "Why didn't you just stay home?"

You clenched your fists, frustration boiling over, "Because I wanted to see you," You blurted out before you could stop yourself, "I wanted to understand why you always leave. How parties can make your worries disappear! Why you always switch out on me.” You voice cracking at the end.

Heeseung's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your cheek, "You don't always need to know everything about me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, Heeseung leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your heart raced as you melted into the kiss, feeling the barriers between your worlds begin to crumble. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You suddenly remembered about his girlfriend and pushed him away, “Heeseung your girlfriend-“

“I don’t wanna think about her right now.” He said. You gulped hard. You knew what you did was wrong, but seeing Heeseung so calm made you relax a bit.

He then looked at you again, “Let's go home," He said softly. You slowly nodded and started the car, exiting the driveway and leaving the loud house. The car ride was silent, with Heeseung staring out the window.

You averted your gaze to him from time to time, however not saying anything. When you guys finally got back you got out the car and headed to the door. You unlocked it, letting yourself in before Heeseung came in.

Just as you were about to say something Heeseung suddenly pinned you on the door, “Heeseung what are you-“

He cut you off and kissed you harshly. You let out a gasp when he nibbled on your bottom lip. He then entered his tongue in your mouth. You squirmed feeling his hot tongue swirling with yours. It all felt too hot. You moaned when he roughly gripped your hips.

The thought of his girlfriend completely washed away when he broke the kiss with both of your salivas connecting at your lips. He didn’t waste a second, grabbing your wrist and taking you to his room. Heeseung's eyes glinted with mischief as he led you to his room, his grip firm yet oddly gentle.

It was the second time going to his room, this time with him with you. The contrast between his tough exterior and the care he took in guiding you made your heart race. As you stepped inside, you couldn't help but notice how surprisingly neat his room was.

Your eyes wandered over the shelves lined with books, some of which you recognized from your own collection. A small, framed photo of a younger Heeseung with a genuine smile caught your eye, and you felt a pang of curiosity about the story behind it. The room was filled with little details that contradicted his bad boy image – a neatly made bed, a few potted plants, and a desk organized with precision.

Heeseung caught you staring and smirked, "Surprised?" He asked, leaning casually against the doorframe. You nodded, unable to hide your amazement. "There's more to me than meets the eye," He said, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it before.

You sat on his bed with him still standing in front of you. He then leaned down and pecked your lips before going on top of you as you lay on the sheets. He started trailing kisses along your neck. You let out a quiet moan when you felt him starting to suck on your neck.

Heeseung grinned at your sensitivity and playfully bit your neck, making you squeak. You wrapped your arms instinctively around his neck. You mewled when you felt him grind on your cloth core. Everything felt too unreal to you.

“Fuck. I can practically feel your wetness.” He groaned. He took his hand and rubbed against your leg like the last time, but this time he slowly crept towards you core.

“H-Hee.” You whimpered. Hearing you already making a nickname for him made him hard. You let out a relief sigh when he finally rubbed against your heat. The pressure of pleasure floating in your body.

Heeseung bit his lip, suppressing a groan when he finally felt your wet shorts.

“Hee please.” You groaned. Heeseung smirked and stared at your facial expression. Mouth agape, eyes rolled back, hair messy, Heeseung knew he was gonna be a goner.

“What do you want princess?” He whispered. His voice husky and filled with lust. You felt yourself already creating a pool with the way he sounded.

“I-It feels weird Hee! Please do something.” You weakly stated. Something inside lit up in Heeseung hearing you say that.

A virgin is probably his most favorite thing when it comes to sex. He didn’t waste any time taking off your shorts. He let out a breath when he saw the wet patch on your underwear and lowered his body down.

Before you could ask what he was doing you suddenly felt a wet sensation on your underwear, “Oh god Heeseung!” You let out a cry and arched your back. Heeseung hummed and licked up and down on your slit. The feeling of pleasure was too much for you.

He stopped and looked up at you, “I wanna see you begging.” He breathed out. He slid off your underwear effortlessly revealing your glistening pussy. You tried covering yourself up but Heeseungs wasn’t having none of that. He pulled your legs apart roughly making you whine. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The way his hard stare was on you.

“If I would’ve know your pussy looked this good I would’ve fucked you sooner.” He said. Your eyes went wide. Now your cheeks were definitely a crimson red. He lowered once again and didn’t give you a chance to say anything before he dipped his tongue inside.

You gripped the sheets at his sudden urgency and let out a loud moan. You didn’t know if your guys parents were home, but it was too late now. He licked your folds up and down, swirling his tongue around your bud. You gripped his locks and wrapped your leg around his head.

“Hee! Oh fuck!” You squealed. He cursed in your pussy and finally dipped his tongue in your hole. You couldn’t control any of your moans anymore. The sound of slurping and moaning bounced around his room.

You felt a weird pit in your stomach and thrashed around, “H-Hee I think I’m gonna- ah!” You moaned and jerked forward. Your orgasm coming quickly and hard. Your mouth went agape as you let out hard breaths feeling Heeseung lick everything up.

You squeezed his locks, feeling overstimulated. You tapped his head weakly, “H-Heeseung no more.” You rasped out. Heeseung finally stopped and licked his lips. Your cum on his chin, his eyes hazy and unfocused.

“How am I gonna fit?” He asked you. Your eyes widened. Shit, he really wanted to have sex with you. You started stammering random words while Heeseung stared at you. If he was gonna fuck you, you have to enjoy it too.

He cut off your rant by kissing you again. You immediately kissed him back, not feeling his fingers near your hole. You let out a scream when you felt his finger slowly enter you.

“Shh it’s okay. It’ll hurt for a quick second.” He muttered. You tried to get used to it, however the pressure was too much.

“H-Heeseung I can’t! It hurts!” You sniffled. Heeseung pampered you with kisses, trying to distract you. You looked so pretty when you cry.

“I know princess. It’ll feel good. I promise.” He reasoned. You panted hard when you suddenly felt your hole slowly getting used to it. Soon enough you were a moaning mess all over again.

“Another one. P-Please.” You dictated. Heeseung grinned and added his other finger. You let out a moan in pleasure feeling his long thick fingers stretching you out.

You felt another orgasm coming again, but Heeseung took his fingers out making you whine. He ignored you, his grin never coming off his face.

He took off his shirt revealing his body. You bit your lip seeing his toned body. You felt something poking you and looked down. There was his hard dick poking out of his pants. You whimpered when he moved it towards your pussy.

“You like what you see?” He teased. You slowly nodded, unsure what to say at that moment. He chuckled at your cuteness and kissed your temple.

You reached your hand unsure if you could touch him. He didn’t seem to mind and leaned in more. You rubbed his cloth dick slowly causing him to hiss. You felt a sudden confidence coming over you and stroked his dick faster. At this point you were practically jerking him off and he seemed to like it, or even loved it.

He pulled away suddenly making you furrow your eyebrows, “Is something wrong?” You mumbled, your brain in a haze.

“I don’t wanna cum like this.” He said. You blushed when he started unbuckling his pants and taking off his pants and boxers at the same time. Your mouth went dry seeing his dick for the first time. It was big.

Is that even gonna fit?

He groaned when he touched it and stroked it slowly. You watched him stroke his dick slowly, blushing and panting. He looked down at you, “Are you ready?”

You impatiently nodded, making him chuckle darkly. He lined his dick at your entrance before slowly pushing in. You felt the air knock out your lungs and gripped him tightly on his arms. He moaned at your tightness. Your whimpers and sniffles made him want to go right at it and fuck you hard.

“Fuck, can I move now princess?” He hissed. You shut your eyes and slowly nodded. He started at a slow pace, watching your every expression to make sure you're not hurting anywhere. Once he sees your face turning from pain to pleasure he picked up his pace faster.

The sound of hard skin slapping heard in his room. You felt dizzy with pleasure with the way he pounded in your pussy, “Oh fuck.” You whimpered.

“Feel good princess?” He asked. You frantically nodded your head. He sighed feeling you clench around him.

“M’gonna cum Heeseung.” You panted out. Heeseung hummed and buried his face in your neck, the feeling making you ticklish. You felt your orgasm coming and scratched onto his back. You bit Heeseung neck feeling your orgasm hitting you. Heeseung let out a pained moan and came after you.

You both panted unevenly and hard. Heeseung slowly pulled out and fell right next to you. You stared up at the ceiling rethinking everything. You had sex with Lee Heeseung, the schools bad boy. The one who made you feel like you were worthless.

Your thoughts were cut off when you felt a strong arm wrap around you. You looked up at Heeseung and saw him also in thought. The silence was somewhat comforting while also heavy. Heeseung nuzzled against the top of your head and sighed.

You slowly felt your eyes get heavy feeling his warmth accompanying you into slumber.

Heeseung looked down when he suddenly heard little snores coming out of you. He stared at your lips and leaned down, giving them a soft peck. Besides, it was gonna be the last time he would feel them.

You woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, feeling disoriented. As you slowly sat up, you realized you were in an unfamiliar bed. Panic surged through you until you recognized the room – Heeseung's room. The events of last night hit you like a truck, but you distinctly remembered the heated moment that had led you here.

Looking around, you noticed Heeseung was nowhere in sight. Your heart pounded as you spotted a neatly folded note on the pillow beside you. With trembling hands, you picked it up and read:

Had to head to school early. See you there. - Heeseung.

You sighed, a mix of relief and frustration washing over you. Gathering your things, you quickly got ready and made your way to school, your mind racing with thoughts of what had transpired.

As you entered the school grounds, you spotted Heeseung almost immediately. He was leaning against a locker, surrounded by his usual group of friends, exuding his typical bad boy aura. His laughter echoed down the hallway, and you felt an inexplicable pang in your chest.

But what shocked you the most was the girl under his arms, giggling as she whispered something in his ear making him smile. You stood there watching the scene unfold. Your eyes met his for a fleeting moment. His expression shifted from amusement to something unreadable as he watched you.

Suddenly, the memories of last night came flooding back – the new side he shown you yesterday, the intimate moment you guys had together.

Feeling overwhelmed, you quickly looked away and walked past him, determined to ignore him. You could feel his gaze burning into your back, but you kept your head down, focusing on getting to your locker.

Throughout the day, you couldn't shake the feeling of Heeseung's eyes on you. Every time you glanced his way, he was watching, a mix of amusement and something else in his eyes. It was as if he was silently pleading for you to acknowledge him, but you couldn't bring yourself to face him.

During lunch, you found a quiet corner in the library to gather your thoughts. The events of last night played over and over in your mind. Heeseung had been so different – so real. But now, in the harsh light of day, it was easier to retreat behind your walls and pretend it hadn't happened.

As the final bell rang, you gathered your things and headed out, hoping to avoid any further encounters. But as you stepped outside, you saw Heeseung waiting by the gate, his expression serious.

"Nerd," he called out, his voice coming out more firm than usual, "We need to talk."

You hesitated, torn between your instinct to flee and the curiosity gnawing at you. Finally, you took a deep breath and walked over to him, bracing yourself for whatever came next.

“what do you wanna talk about?” You questioned, knowing full well what he wanted to talk about. He knew you weren’t stupid.

"Do you regret it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t and that you would do it again if you could. To tell him that you feel something for him that you’ve never felt with anyone else, but reality came to you that he still has a girlfriend, and that your parents are getting married soon, "Yes," You replied, your voice trembling, "I regret it."

Heeseung's face fell, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair, "I figured," He muttered, "I agree... I just needed to know from your point of you. No hard feelings?”

You nodded your head, holding your tears in, “Agreed.”

After that conversation, you made a conscious effort to avoid him. It wasn't easy, especially when you saw him with his girlfriend, laughing and holding hands. Each time, it felt like a knife to your heart, but you kept your distance, knowing it was for the best.

Despite your efforts, you couldn't help but notice the change in Heeseung. He seemed more distant, more withdrawn. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a quiet facade that you couldn't ignore. He stopped speaking to you for once, walking right past you whenever you’d see him anywhere in the house. He wouldn’t add sarcastic comments towards your way anymore. He still went to parties and hang outs as usual, but he was a lot more aggressive than usual when he came home drunk.

Days turned into weeks, and you tried your best to avoid him. You buried yourself in your studies, hoping the memory would fade. But every time you saw Heeseung with his girlfriend, a pang of guilt and regret twisted in your chest.

Or when you would hang out with your mom and Mr. Lee it reminded you exactly why you’re there. Because they were getting married. How would they react when they would’ve found out there kids fucked each other? You didn’t wanna know.

It was like any other day with you reading in the living room. You were almost done with a chapter when you suddenly heard a knock at the door. You didn't think much of it until you heard voices—familiar voices. Curiosity got the better of you, and you opened the door revealing Heeseung's girlfriend, Karina, and his friends Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay.

"Hey, can we come in?" Jake asked, though it seemed more like a statement than a question. You nodded, stepping aside to let them in.

You heard footsteps coming downstairs and was greeted by Heeseung, “Baby!” Karina smiled and went to hug Heeseung. He hugged her back just as tightly.

“Hey baby, I didn’t know you were coming too.” Heeseung chuckled. Karina gave him a teasing smile in return.

“Well I haven’t seen you since yesterday so I decided to come over!” She chimed. Heeseung seemed to be ignoring you completely, his attention focused on his girlfriend.

You were cut off with your thoughts when Heeseungs friends all greeted you with a mix of politeness and indifference, but Sunghoon gave you a knowing smirk.

They made their way upstairs, laughing and chatting amongst themselves. Heeseung didn't even glance your way, and you felt a pang of something—was it disappointment? You shook it off, returning to the living room with your book.

A little while later, there was a knock on the wall. You looked up to see Sunghoon standing there, leaning casually against the wall like he did the last time at the party.

"Hey," He said, his voice smooth and friendly, "Got a minute?"

You didn’t like where this was going. You nodded, putting down your book, “What's up?"

"There's this party later tonight," Sunghoon began, stepping closer to the couch you were sitting at. "It's gonna be pretty cool. I was wondering if you'd like to come with us."

You blinked, taken aback. A party? You remembered the last time and gulped. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

"I don't know," you said finally, "Parties aren't really my thing, especially from last time.”

Sunghoon smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "Come on, it'll be fun. You might even enjoy yourself."

You bit your lip, still uncertain, "I'll think about it.”

"Fair enough," Sunghoon said, giving you a nod, "Just let me know."

He left, and you were alone with your thoughts. A party? With Heeseung and his friends? It seemed like a bad idea, but a part of you was curious. What would it be like to step out of your comfort zone again, even just for one more night?

As the hours passed, you found yourself thinking more and more about Sunghoon's invitation. Finally, you made up your mind.

You rifled through your closet, looking for something to wear. You settled on an outfit that was a little out of the ordinary for you—something that made you feel confident and a bit daring.

When you were ready, you took a deep breath and headed downstairs. it seemed as if Sunghoon was waiting for you, his eyes widening in surprise and admiration when he saw you.

"Wow," He said, a grin spreading across his face, "You look amazing."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Thanks."

He offered you his arm, and you took it, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. As you walked out the door, you didn’t notice a certain someone watching the scene unfold in front him.

You decided to drive with Sunghoon since he insisted and made your way to the party.

The night was electric with the buzz of excitement as you stepped into the party, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and nerves. You adjusted your glasses and smoothed down your dress, feeling slightly out of place among the throngs of people. Sunghoon was by your side, his easy smile putting you at ease.

"Come on, let's dance," He said, taking your hand and leading you to the dance floor. The music was loud, the bass thumping through your body as you moved to the rhythm. Sunghoon's presence was comforting, his laughter infectious as he twirled you around.

As you danced, you couldn't help but notice Heeseung across the room. He was leaning against the wall, his arm draped around Karina’s shoulder. His eyes, however, were fixed on you and Sunghoon. There was a dark intensity in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the fun you were having with Sunghoon.

But the more you danced, the more you felt Heeseung's eyes on you. It was unsettling, and you found yourself glancing his way more often than you intended. Karina seemed oblivious, chatting animatedly with her friends, but Heeseung's attention never wavered.

"Hey, you okay?" Sunghoon asked, noticing your distraction.

"Yeah, I'm fine," You lied, giving him a reassuring smile. "Just a bit hot in here."

"Let's get some air," He suggested, leading you outside to the patio. The cool night air was a welcome relief, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

Sunghoon leaned against the railing, looking at you with concern, "You sure you're okay?"

You nodded, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn't stop thinking about Heeseung. The way he looked at you, the way he seemed to be watching your every move. It was driving you crazy.

Before you knew it, you found yourself leaning in and kissing Sunghoon. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, a desperate attempt to get Heeseung out of your mind. Sunghoon was surprised but didn't pull away, his lips soft and warm against yours.

But the kiss didn't have the desired effect. Instead of forgetting about Heeseung, you felt his gaze burning into you even more intensely. You pulled away from Sunghoon, feeling a mix of guilt and confusion.

"Sorry," you mumbled, not sure what else to say.

Sunghoon looked at you with a mix of surprise and concern, "It's okay. Are you sure you're alright?"

Before you could answer, you felt a strong hand grab your arm. You turned to see Heeseung, his expression dark and angry, “We need to talk," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

He didn't give you a chance to respond, pulling you away from Sunghoon and into the house. You stumbled after him, your heart pounding in your chest. He led you upstairs to a quiet room, closing the door behind him.

"What the hell was that?" He demanded, his eyes blazing with anger.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," He said, stepping closer, “You and Sunghoon."

You looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze, "It's none of your business."

Heeseung grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, "It is my business," he said, his voice low and dangerous, “You think you can just kiss him and I'll be okay with it?"

You felt a surge of defiance. "Why do you care? You have a girlfriend."

Heeseung's grip tightened, his eyes flashing with anger, “You think I care about her? The only reason I'm with her is because I can't have you."

His words took you by surprise, and you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Anger, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite identify, "Then why didn't you ever say anything?"

Heeseung let go of your chin, running a hand through his hair in frustration, "Because I'm an idiot. All these fucking feelings I’ve been feeling pisses me off. Were too different for each other. Which is why I also thought you'd never be interested in someone like me."

You took a step back, trying to process everything, "And now?"

Heeseung looked at you, his expression softening, "Now I can't stand the thought of you with someone else."

You felt your resolve melting, the anger and confusion giving way to something else. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Fuck it. "Then show me," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung didn't need any more encouragement. He closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with a desperate intensity. You melted into the kiss, all the pent-up emotions finally finding release.

You moaned into the kiss, letting his tongue entering your mouth. You didn’t know how much you missed this when he finally lay you on the bed. He didn’t waste time stripping off his clothes, still leaving you cloth. Before he could take your clothes off you stop him, “Wait a minute.”

Heeseung frowned. Did you wanted to stop already? He didn’t have time to think before you suddenly got up and kneel down. Oh shit. Heeseung stared at you in shock.

“Are you, doing what I think you’re doing?” He said, unsure if you were actually gonna do it. You nodded and bit your lip. His hard dick leaking precum. You slowly grabbed it and stroked it slow. Heeseung threw his head back feeling you squeeze around the tip and went faster.

“Shit! Wait.” He muttered. You ignored him and put the just the tip in your mouth. You hummed finally being able to taste him. Heeseung let out a drawn moan feeling your hot wet tongue.

He grabbed your head and gently pushed your head deeper down. You obliged obediently and went back and forth. You felt his dick tense slightly, letting it rest on your tongue.

“Ah hell. Why are you so good at this?” He questioned. You took his dick out your mouth and stroked it.

“Google.” You simply said. Heeseung couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. You smiled and went back to sucking his dick. He soon felt his climax coming and made you deep throat him.

You gagged a little but recomposed yourself and let him use you. You moaned when you felt his hot spurts of cum going down your throat. You made sure you swallowed every last drop before letting go with a pop.

You got back up and kissed him. He sighed into the kiss and pushed you back on the bed. He helped you take off your clothes and kissed along your chest. You whimpered when you felt him suck on one of your breast while fondling with the other.

You grabbed his hand and lead it down to your wet pussy, he rubbed it in circular motion.

“Please Heeseung put it in now. I can’t wait.” You ranted. Heeseung chuckled and slowly lined his dick at your entrance. He rubbed his dick alongside your folds making you mewl.

He finally entered inside you making you both moan in unison. He didn’t wait a second to let you get used to his size and went full speed. You moaned uncontrollably, not being able to hold back. Heeseung kissed you to make you a bit quiet.

“You’re so tight princess. Fuck, gonna breed this pussy dry.” He moaned. You nodded your head, long gone to even cooperate what he was saying. He grabbed both your legs and pushed them against you shoulders, having better access to fuck your hole.

You let out a cry when he hit your spot and arched your back. Heeseung smirked, not stopping his brutal pace on you. You felt your orgasm coming and bit your finger to stop yourself from being loud. Your orgasm came out long and drawn while Heeseung watched you unfold.

He gave out a few more thrust before cumming deep inside you. You let out pants and watched Heeseung take out his dick. He got up from the bed to the restroom and came back with a wash cloth.

He wiped the both of you off and helped you get dress. As you guys finished you finally looked at him.

“Heeseung, what are we?” You finally asked. Heeseung stared at you before giving you a small smile.

“Whatever you want us to be.” He replied. You bit your lip uncertain. He still had a girlfriend.

“Your girlfriend. What about her-“

“I broke up with her. Right when I saw you and Sunghoon leave to the balcony I knew you were the one.” He admitted. You felt your heart swell up and smiled.

“Then I want us to be together then Hee.” You whispered. Heeseung nodded and cupped your face.

“Whatever you want princess.” He said before giving you a peck. You then went back downstairs to the party and walked towards the exit. Before you left you saw Sunghoon talking to one of his friends.

You both made brief eye contact, but what surprise you was when Sunghoon gave you a smile and wink. You quickly felt yourself smiling back at him and waving bye.

You went inside Heeseungs car and buckled your seatbelt. Heeseung started the car while having his other hand on yours. You didn’t know what you guys were gonna do when you get home, but you knew you will sort things out tomorrow.

For now, you’ll enjoy this moment with his comfort surrounding you. And the love that was finally growing that you guys held out for so long.

SOMETHING RED — 성훈

you thought when sunghoon finally found you he’d rip your guts out— but no! turns out he just wants to be in your guts.

PAIRING: ghostface!sunghoon x f!reader

GENRE: smut, thriller

CONTENTS: stalker ex!hoon, dom!hoon, sub!reader, autumn setting, murder, brief desc. of dead body, chase scene, dub-con, knife/fear play, blood/pain kink, injury, degradation/praise, petnames: bunny/sugar, rough sex, oral sex, hoon grips reader’s neck but no choking, hair pulling, spanking, size kink, orgasm control, fingering, squirting, over stim, creampie, one neck bite, passing out

WC: 5.1k

NOTE: spooktober fic #1 👻 yunah version of this fic here!

WARNING: i posted a yunah ver. of this fic under this account! so if it looks familiar that’s why! i don’t have any other accounts i post my works on currently, and if i do i will add them in my navigation or bio. if you see someone stealing my works please lmk.

you’re responsible for the media you consume! i tried to tag everything but there may have been things i missed.

“i had a really good time tonight, y/n.” your date smiles as you stand at your front porch.

“yeah, me too.” you reply, and you’re telling the truth.

after almost 4 years since you fled away from your hometown, and your ex (sunghoon, or rather ghostface, as the civilians like to call him), you’ve finally gone on a date.

it honestly should have been perfect. it was a simple evening. you went for ice cream and afterwards walked around a nice park to talk and feed the ducks, appreciating the beautiful colors the trees are turning. your date is an absolute gentleman, he won’t stop smiling at you and laughs at all of your stupid jokes. he’s acted like nothing but an overall sweetheart the entire time.

and yet, that’s the very thing that was wrong with the date in your mind.

it was simple, perfect, sweet…

no tension or skip of your heart beat, no wondering what will happen next. there was just…no thrill.

you think sunghoon has really fucked you up. even after all this time you’re still comparing people to your ex. your crazy, obsessive, killer ex.

god, sometimes you even catch yourself wishing he’d pop up in your life again. but after you found out it was him who was killing all of the people in your life and town, anyone who he deemed as getting in the way of your relationship, you panicked and immediately called the police.

no one has seen him since, evidently. you certainly haven’t.

but do you really wish you would? if he saw you again he’d probably kill you.

“y/n?” your date says gently, breaking you out of your stupor as you blink at the man in front of you, noticing how he’s gotten significantly closer than when you last noticed.

your porch light’s obnoxious hum is the only other sound as he gazes at you, giving you a hopeful, prompting look— sort of like he’s expecting something. you think you know what it is, but you suddenly feel like you’ve turned to stone.

“we’ll go out again, right?” he whispers as his face inches closer and closer, smiling at you sweetly.

“i’ll— i’ll text you.” you vaguely answer.

your date laughs again even though you haven’t said anything funny, raising a single hand to gently hold your arm as he finally realizes he’s gonna have to take full initiative. puckering his lips, he leans into yours as he shuts his eyes. you don’t do anything except let your eyes bulge out of your skull, before at the last second turning your head, causing his kiss to land on your cheek instead.

he pulls away while blinking widely in surprise, before his cheeks bloom a pink blush and he laughs—…again. it’s starting to be less charming and more annoying.

“you’re so cute.” he says, thinking you’re just shy.

“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you soon?”

“sure!” you lie. “goodnight!”

you wave before immediately shutting your door.

you sigh tiredly, appreciating the beautiful glow of the moonlight that gently illuminates your otherwise dark house.

flipping the switch that lights your stairs, wood creaking beneath your feet, you walk to your bedroom. the night’s air is fresh, and the soft sound of rustling leaves always helps you calm down. so you open your bedroom window, letting the gentle breeze spread goosebumps across your arms.

moving to your dresser, you grab a tank top and shorts along with some panties before going into the bathroom to take a shower. you sit your fresh clothes on the bathroom countertop, stripping off your dirty clothes and letting them pool at your feet.

when you get in the shower you feel your previous stress melt off of you with the warm water, all thoughts and worries forgotten— temporarily at least. after about twenty minutes you step out, quickly wrapping a towel around you as the water dripping off your body and the chill in the air makes you shiver.

you move to grab your dirty clothes left on the floor to put them in the hamper, but your underwear is missing.

“what the heck,” you mumble to yourself, shaking out the clothing in your hands, checking if the item wasn’t just tangled amongst them.

“looking for these?” a voice— his voice— asks.

you gasp as your body jolts, feeling your heart spike in your chest when you look up to see ghostface standing at the bathroom’s open door.

he’s wearing his mask, signature big butchers knife in his hand as he twirls around your panties from it’s sharp point.

and…blood.

blood is on his hands and dripping off the weapon’s edge.

“y’know, i expected you to still be anxiously locking all the entrances of your house for a while longer, but you stopped only a year into moving here…” he thinks aloud with sarcastic wonder, lifting up his mask to let his eyes drink in the image of you clutching your towel to your chest.

sunghoon lets your panties slip off the knife and drop back onto the floor before stepping closer to you.

he moves slowly, making your panic worsen as he corners you into the bathroom like prey. a small, frightened noise comes from your chest when your back hits the wall, sunghoon’s face closer than ever as you watch his lips raise into a smirk.

“can you tell me why that is, bunny?”

your body trembles at the nickname that hasn’t been directed to you in years.

sunghoon started calling you that after one of the first dates you went on, the two of you watched a scary movie and you criticized the characters who were so easily killed.

“do you think you could do any better?” sunghoon had asked, smiling at you patronizingly yet fond.

“well, yeah? they always get killed cus’ they do something stupid. like lock themselves in one room or crawl through a fucking cat door.”

“and what would you do?”

“run.” you had simply answered.

“well?” sunghoon drawls, hot breath puffing into your face as he stands practically against you.

his knife is still raised, gently grazing the tip over your cheek as his eyes follow the movement.

“who’s blood is that?” you struggle out, feeling the crimson liquid trickle down your neck.

“drop your towel.”

“w— what?”

“i said drop your fucking towel, y/n.” he grits, moving the knife to apply harmless pressure to your neck— but it’s there, and it’s threatening.

the damp fabric lands with a thump on the tile floor, leaving your nipples to harden from the bite in the air.

“should have left that window fucking shut…” you whisper, but sunghoon catches it with his close proximity.

he steps back just enough to run his perverted eyes all over your body, weapon moving from your neck down to your breasts.

you inhale shakily, sunghoon chuckling under his breath.

“yes, you should have. although it wouldn’t have mattered. i came in through the front door that you also conveniently forgot about.” he replies to your statement. “which brings me to my question that i asked first, why have you been leaving everything unlocked, y/n?”

you glare up into his eyes with wavering bravery, sunghoon finding you to look more like a scared, defenseless animal.

you don’t speak, trembling lips pressing into a thin line. sunghoon slides the flat of his knife over your nipple, spreading the leftover blood across your skin and causing you to flinch as a small moan escapes you.

“you missed me.” he states with suffocating confidence, seeing right through your facade— knowing how you really feel.

“you still love me. don’t you, bunny?”

he presses his chest against yours, the rough material of his shirt giving stimulation to your sensitive nipples as he moves the weapon back up towards your face. the steel blade swipes across your mouth, staining your lips red.

sunghoon tugs down your bottom lip with his thumb, rubbing slowly side to side before pushing inside your mouth. you take it without thinking, staring up into his eyes as you suck on his appendage, wincing at the steely taste of blood.

“still such a slut.” he marvels fondly, eyelids drooping as his breath gets a little heavier. you bob your head just slightly, like you would do to his cock, and sunghoon reacts with a groan. your pussy clenches at the sound.

“well, you didn’t exactly answer my question, bunny. but since you’re so cute and helpless right now, i’ll have some mercy and answer yours.”

he pulls his thumb back and you don’t release it until it comes out with a wet pop, sunghoon groaning lowly before slamming his lips onto yours. he swallows your moans as his empty hand roams your body, fingers feathering over your bare pussy, trailing up to grope roughly at your breast before firmly wrapping around your throat.

you squirm. any shame has left your mind as you try and rub your cunt up onto sunghoon.

he’s playing nice for now it seems, pressing his jean clad thigh between your legs and letting you hump against him. you whine into his kiss as the denim makes contact with your clit, biting on sunghoon’s bottom lip unconsciously in pleasure.

he grunts at the slight pain, slapping your ass before gripping it roughly and digging his nails into your flesh.

you lick his bottom lip and suck on his tongue in apology, sunghoon’s nails retracting to rub soothingly over the skin that is now littered with red crescent cuts.

“god, i love you, bunny.” he groans lowly. “it’s your date’s blood.”

“h— huh?” you gasp, eyes widening as sunghoon stares deeply into your eyes. “you…did you kill him?”

“do you care?” sunghoon quips back cockily, but you recognize the tinge of jealousy in his tone. “he was too soft for you anyway. you like it when someone is rough and makes you feel dominated, don’t you? someone big enough to overpower you?”

he speaks in a dark tone, hand gripping your hip with possessiveness that’s sure to leave a bruise.

your breathing picks up again, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotions— though you’re not sure what any of them are.

“fuck you, sunghoon.” you spit, the man maniacally laughing with clear amusement.

“sure, sugar, later. right now i think i’m in the mood for a chase.”

he says this as he steps away from you, leaving you confused as he stares at you expectantly.

“well?” sunghoon lifts a brow, lowering the mask to cover his face completely again, gripping his knife a little tighter. “run, bunny.”

fear settles its anchor in your stomach and you take off like a bullet, water and blood dripping from your naked body as you run down the stairs. there’s only the sound of your panicked gasps of breath before ghostface’s heavy footsteps creak down the steps, coming right after you.

your first thought is to go the front door, but when you open it you're greeted with the massacred body of your date sitting in a bloody, gutted heap of red and pink mush.

you scream, immediately slamming the door shut as you choke on a gag that tickles up your throat.

ghostface makes it down the stairs, taking large but calm steps towards you as his knife gleams in the moonlight, black plastic eyes staring blankly at you.

“stop!” you cry, suddenly thankful for the wrap around layout of your house as you run right, out of the livingroom and into the hallway.

you can go to the kitchen, bedroom, or second bathroom.

everything is a dead-end except the kitchen, which has two escape routes to the outside: a latch window and the back door.

you quickly open the bedroom door to throw ghostface off and quietly sneak into the kitchen.

risking taking the time to carefully open a drawer and take a knife out— just in case, you then hurry over to the back door and turn the knob.

there’s the sound of something slicing through air before you yelp as it cuts into your hand, forcing you to jump away from the door.

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you.” ghostface warns as he walks in, creepily melodic with how he speaks.

you look back at the doorknob, seeing his knife stabbed into the wood from the force ghostface threw it with, your blood splattered in a small area against the white paint.

“now look at that, you made me hurt you.” he says with mocking sympathy, his dangerous tone making your knees feel weak with fear.

you keep switching your eyes from looking at the window to ghostface.

he just stands, watching with undivided attention as he can practically see the cogs turning in your brain, waiting for what you’ll do next like he’s watching a mouse in a trap. (or a bunny in a snare.)

you suddenly run out of the kitchen’s second entry, ending up at the living room again and booking it up the stairs. you wouldn’t have had time to make it out the kitchen window with ghostface right there, but maybe you can escape through your bedroom window. it’s already open, and even though your house is two stories, there’s a tree right next to it that will shorten the drop— if you can reach a branch without falling off the roof.

when you get to your bedroom ghostface is hot on your trail. you try to slam the door shut and lock it, but he presses against it from the other side right at the same time.

you push as hard as you can to shut the door, but ghostface has always been much stronger than you.

busting the door open, your body is flung backward as you land on the floor, knife falling out of your hands and sliding away from you.

you scramble on the ground to get it back, just barely grasping it in your hand before ghostface grabs and flips you over onto your back, ripping his mask off and letting it clatter to the floor.

“s— stop it, sung— sunghoon.” you struggle to get out from how your body and voice shakes, pressing your legs together in fear and ignoring the wetness between them as sunghoon cages your body with his limbs.

“oh, are you going to make me?” he challenges with no fear, the smile on his face clearly expressing that he doesn’t take a word you say seriously.

“go on then, bunny. take a stab at me.”

sunghoon drops his own knife from his hands, baring himself to your mercy.

your eyes widen, hands shaking as you pathetically raise the knife.

you look from his eyes to his vulnerable stomach that you could easily plunge the weapon into, and back up to his eyes again.

sunghoon slenders his gaze at you, as if to say ‘you can’t do it, can you?’.

you burst into sobs, dropping the knife and hiding your face in your hands.

sunghoon leans down to coo at you, running his fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead.

“i knew you couldn’t do it, bunny. i’ve been watching you ever since you left town, and you know what i found out?”

you take watery gasps, wiping off your tears so you can look up at sunghoon.

you know the answer, even in your messy state. it’s apparent throughout everything in your life, after all these years and all the decisions you’ve made.

“i—…that i n— never stopped loving you.”

“that’s right, sugar. couldn’t even bear to kiss your date, could you?”

you shake your head, cries reducing to sniffles as sunghoon cups your face with his still bloodied hands, the liquid beginning to dry as it feels tacky on your skin.

“it’s okay, bunny. you were a good girl, so i won’t punish you…too much. as for him— well,”

he laughs, but it sounds hollow, devoid of anything other than hate and rage. “he got what he deserved.”

suddenly sunghoon is picking up his knife and hoisting you up, your waist thrown over his shoulder as you gasp in surprise while he walks over to the bed.

sunghoon takes a handful of your ass, admiring how it jiggles when he jostles it in his hand before giving it a hard spank. you whimper and push back into his palm, wordlessly asking for more.

“slut.” he chuckles under his breath, throwing you roughly on the mattress a second later.

sunghoon places his knife on your nightstand as you sit up on your elbows to look at him curiously. he practically devours your body with his eyes as he strips off his shirt, your mouth watering at the revealed expanse of his tapered waist and sculpted abs. you can’t help but whine when he slowly pushes the waistband of his pants and underwear down, hard, huge cock slapping against his stomach wetly.

“missed this, bunny?”

you only whine, feeling like the desparate whore that you are for sunghoon as you blatantly squeeze and rub your thighs together, trying to bring any sort of relief to your needy pussy. you practically feel edged by everything that’s transpired so far.

“come.” sunghoon orders, pointing at the floor in front of him.

you know what that means, quickly getting off the bed and on your knees, looking up at him with pathetically begging eyes. he only acknowledges you with a piercing stare, picking up his knife again as he moves it beneath your hairline, pressing the cold, flat side of its blade into the nape of your neck.

“now suck.”

you’re eager, enveloping his dick into your watering mouth and pushing yourself as far down the long shaft as you can muster. you gag, sunghoon’s salty pre-cum making you salivate for more as you don’t pull off, only trying to push his cock deeper down your throat.

even as your eyes squeeze shut, choking around him— you don’t stop.

not until sunghoon roughly pulls you off by the hair, a deep sound coming out of you as your mouth is suddenly empty, gasping and coughing while a string of saliva hangs from your lips.

“did i say swallow me whole? dumb whore. suck.”

you immediately do as he says, apologizing with your eyes and pliant little hums around him as you envelope just the tip in your mouth, sucking on it delicately like a lollipop.

sunghoon bares his teeth at the teasing pleasure, watching your lips that are glossy with your own spit prettily wrapped around his big dick. you look so small and helpless like this: kneeling, naked, someone else’s blood drying on your body— as well as a little of your own.

sunghoon thinks you’re most beautiful like this. his slutty little bunny trapped in the snare he’s made just for you.

grabbing a painfully tight fistful of your hair, he slams your face against his pelvis. you’re reduced to choking sounds and sputters as you struggle to take the sheer size of him into your mouth, sunghoon continuing to catch you off guard as he starts bobbing your head up and down his shaft like a cock sleeve.

you cry and moan at the feeling of him using you like a cheap whore, your pussy throbbing with the need to be touched but being ignored— and it only turns you on that much more.

your scalp burns as sunghoon keeps yanking you by the hair, spit seeping out of the corners of your stretched lips and running down your chin.

“almost forgot what a dirty slut you could be, bunny. f— fucking shit!”

hearing sunghoon’s hard resolve crack, you’re hit with another wave of enthusiasm.

you swallow around him, doing your best to lick and suck whenever you get the chance between the harsh movements he controls you with. then you have an idea, and without a second thought you’re executing it.

moving a hand down to your pussy, you smear the generous wetness on your fingers, lifting them up to cup sunghoon’s balls, fondling them with ease thanks to your slick.

“god— fuck! good girl! that’s a good little whore. choke on my dick while you make me messy.”

you feel like you could almost cum just from sunghoon’s words, the tingly pain at your scalp, and the full mouth of dick you’re taking. moans almost rhythmically come from your throat as your free hand goes down to rub desperately at your neglected clit, hips making trembling movements at the pleasure that’s not enough while at the same time being too much.

“bunny, oh— damn. you really like me fucking your mouth, don’t you sugar?”

“mm—hmm,” you moan around him, sunghoon starting to snap his hips more aggressively. you feel his dick pulse in your mouth, a deep growl coming from him a moment later, signaling his soon release.

“you ready for me, bunny? you ready for my cum?”

please, please, yes— you want to say, but it only comes out as whimpers as his cock bruises the back of your throat.

your thighs begin to tremble as you feel yourself getting closer. sunghoon moans out, pressing his hips flat against your face as his dick throbs, pumping a huge load down your throat. that paired with the feeling of his knife pressing harder into your neck sends you into white hot ecstasy, shaking like a leaf and thighs clenching around your own hand as you ride it out on your soaked fingers.

sunghoon’s dick is dripping with your spit and his cum when he pulls out, still hard as a rock and catching his breath as he slowly jerks himself off, wincing at the painful pleasure after just cumming— but not able to stop as he’s mesmerized by how much of the both of you there is, mixing all together with each movement of his hand.

sunghoon then looks over at you just as you’re pulling your hand away from yourself, groaning as he sees the wet webs between your fingers.

“get on the bed, bunny. ass up.”

your movements are clumsy as you’re still weak from the hard orgasm, but you want more, so you do as he says. sunghoon gives you a helping hand, making sure you don’t fall as the both of you get on the bed.

sunghoon sits up on his knees behind you. your ass looks amazing in this position, and your legs are spread, completely unable to hide your dripping pussy from sunghoon’s hungry eyes.

you turn your head, looking back at him with fucked out eyes that ask for more. he smirks, placing both hands on either side of your hips before stooping low to go down on your sloppy cunt.

“oh— fuck, su— sunghoon!”

you’re so turned on, and if you really think about it (which you’re trying not to), you probably shouldn’t be— not after what he’s done.

and yet, here you are, whining like a whore as the ghostface killer fucks your pussy with his tongue.

he can’t get enough of your taste. he’s went years without it after all, and sunghoon finds he’s going feral now that you’re finally in his mouth again. he delves his tongue as deeply as it can go, paying attention to what movements make you cry louder. sunghoon makes sure to pull out and suck your puffy clit between his lips, proud at himself with how it makes your legs quiver, before shoving his appendage back inside your core and fucking it in and out of you.

“hoonie, please,” you beg, already needing release as you’re sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“no,” he barks, annoyed that he even has to separate his mouth from your pussy to speak, reconnecting with you immediately after.

you dare to whine defiantly at him, and sunghoon reacts by reigning his hand down on your ass.

the hit is hard, making your eyes widen and taking your breath away as the strength he uses on you is unexpected. you can feel your skin tingling and hot from where the slap landed, and somehow it just makes you feel even more needy.

sunghoon knows you liked it, he can tell by how your pussy is contracting around his tongue, making him smirk against you as he keeps eating you out with no mercy.

you wiggle your hips just slightly, side to side, unable to keep still as you just need more.

you feel sunghoon’s annoyed growl, the vibrations of it sending a shock of pleasure straight to your core. he spanks you again, right on the same spot as before. this time a sob is ripped out of your chest at the pain, your face burying into the bed.

“you’re a bad fucking girl, can’t even do what i want you to.” sunghoon grits as he removes his mouth and shoves two merciless fingers inside you instead, roughly curving them as his thumb rubs at your clit. the amount of pain and pleasure is equal now, making you want to pull away while at the same time, push closer. the sounds your pussy makes as sunghoon quickly moves his fingers are loud and should be embarrassing— yet all you can think about is how good he’s making you feel and how badly you need to cum.

“hoon, i— really i can’t— can’t take it!”

“oh you’ll take it, bitch. if you want me to fuck you with my cock by the end of this.”

“no— yes! please, want your cock!” you blubber, the thought of not getting it making you feel as if you could cry at any moment, that paired with how meanly sunghoon treats your desperate little pussy, fucking it like he wants you to squirt all over the sheets— yet refusing to let you.

“i’ll be good, hoonie! i’ll let you do whatever you want, just— let me cum!”

the man doesn’t say anything, fingers not stopping as you feel his other hand’s nails dig into the flesh of your ass again, leaving more claiming cuts into your skin.

“fine, filthy slut. cum.”

the relief and pleasure of finally letting go is too much, your hearing is reduced to a high pitched ringing, and you’re not sure if your eyes are shut or if your vision has blacked out.

when you come back to, you’re on your back, sunghoon’s hands all over your body as the look in his eyes looks like he’s truly lost it.

“hoon, can’t,” you pant out as he starts lifting your limp leg to his shoulder.

but he doesn’t stop, his frantic movements continue, only looking up at you with pupils you swear are blown out.

“you’ll let me do whatever i want, remember?” he speaks out roughly, his throat scratchy either from eating you out so vigorously or from being so turned on.

“even if you didn’t let me, i’d still do whatever i want with you.” he cruelly chuckles, smirking down at you. the points of his teeth remind you of a wolf.

guess you really are the bunny.

you whimper— and you’re not sure if it’s from fear or twisted arousal.

tears fill your eyes as you watch sunghoon grab his huge cock, jerking it a few times to spread his cum. (not that he needs to— you literally just squirted.) you can only imagine how big the stretch will be inside your tiny little pussy to fit his huge girth. you’ve taken it before of course, but your insides are crying out in sensitivity, and your head feels foggy, like you could fall back out of consciousness again.

“please, hoonie, please—“

you’re words are cut off by your own agonized cry as sunghoon’s cock feels like it’s piercing your guts, pushing and pushing until he’s down to the hilt.

then he starts thrusting into you with enough power that it pushes your head against the headboard, your hands moving up to brace yourself as your hiked up leg tightens around his shoulder.

despite everything, you can’t help the delirious moan you let out, feeling your pussy ooze more fluids you didn’t think you had at this point.

“my slutty little bunny, huh, y/n?” sunghoon almost coos, if it wasn’t for how his teeth are harshly bared.

“missed my big dick abusing your insides, didn’t you, bunny?”

you sob, tears racing down your cheeks as your hole helplessly clenches and suffocates on sunghoon’s huge, unforgiving length.

“admit it. admit you’re a dirty whore for me.”

“i am— i am, hoonie!” you pant out breathlessly, each of his bruising thrusts feeling like they punch the breath right out of you. your chest aches from the big gulps of air you take. “m’a whore, such a dirty whore for you, sunghoon— fuck, please!”

sunghoon’s pants almost match up with your own, his body starting to tremble as he moves to lean down on his elbows against the bed, the new position forcing your leg to stretch even further— causing sunghoon’s cock to ram even deeper inside you.

“you’re mine. you hear me, bitch? you’re fucking mine! don’t ever think i’m gonna let you run away from me again.”

“oh god— i’m cumming!” you scream, unable to even ask for permission or try to hold back as your body convulses with the waves wracking over your body.

the only thing that keeps the darkened edges of your vision from completely taking over is sunghoon’s dick driving into you, chasing after his own high as your pussy spasms around him. you’re almost too tight, your core literally unable to take his huge size anymore as sunghoon forces his cock in again and again, balls slapping crudely against you.

when he finally busts inside, sunghoon clamps his teeth down on your neck, the sensations overwhelming him as he fucks you full of his cum.

he doesn’t pull out, even when your crying doesn’t stop, he keeps your poor abused pussy plugged up with his full load by his huge dick.

once sunghoon catches his breath, he glides his tongue across his teeth, curious at the taste of blood in his mouth.

“hoon, you bit me.” you whine, pouting at him as you try to look where his teeth left bloody marks into the junction of your shoulder.

sunghoon sighs, and you can tell by the noise and how his eyes flit over the wound excitedly that it turns him on.

his tongue licks over the bite in apology, cleaning up the blood before pressing little kisses all over it.

“you make me crazy, bunny.” he whispers lovingly, eventually pulling away from your shoulder to hover above your face.

you stare at each other silently, before you tilt your chin up, begging for a kiss with pouty lips and shiny eyes.

sunghoon smiles, those wolfish teeth still poking through slightly as he leans down to capture you in a slow, passionate kiss.

it tastes like blood and cum.

your blood and cum.

the realization frightens you only a little bit, the stronger emotion being some sort of sick arousal.

sunghoon might be crazy over you, but he’s definitely made you crazy as well.

REBLOG/COMMENT TO MAKE AUTHOR SMILE

NOTE: divs by adornedwithlight

red velvet hearts.

pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.

author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3

warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama

playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift

RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU

“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.” 

“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier. 

“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”

“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely. 

You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson. 

“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly. 

“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.” 

“I was handling things just fine on my own.”

“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state. 

You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.” 

The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention. 

By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support. 

Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.

Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” 

His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw. 

“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers. 

“You don’t look―” 

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.

After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?” 

You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck. 

And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod. 

.

.

.

Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer. 

Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip. 

When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood. 

“That was…delicious,” he breathes. 

“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.” 

“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs. 

“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.” 

Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together. 

He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw. 

Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes. 

“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks: 

“So, you’re hiring?” 

You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question. 

Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up. 

“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”

“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias. 

Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.

“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand. 

You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say: 

“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?” 

It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries. 

“I’d love nothing more.”

Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu. 

He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling. 

RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE

“Are you out of your mind?”

You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.” 

“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”

“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!” 

“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses. 

“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?” 

Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“What?”

“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice. 

“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”

“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

“So, when do I get to meet him―”

You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup. 

You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking. 

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.” 

Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.” 

You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.” 

“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows. 

You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.” 

“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.” 

His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in. 

But you don’t. 

“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.” 

And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you. 

He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him. 

Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday. 

“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly. 

“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand. 

“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.” 

The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.

“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease. 

His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?” 

“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.” 

It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck. 

“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh. 

“Pretty lame, right?” 

“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.” 

Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.” 

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently. 

He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”

That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?” 

He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.” 

There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length. 

“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!” 

“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course. Who else would I go with?” 

“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately. 

“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain. 

“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.” 

“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms. 

“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile. 

“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him. 

He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound―”

“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?” 

“...Seven.”

.

.

.

Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property. 

“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.” 

“You got it, Captain.” He salutes. 

You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you. 

Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt. 

“Oh my God, your face!” 

“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.” 

“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.” 

“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes. 

“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice. 

Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself. 

You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you. 

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression

“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile. 

“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod. 

“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.” 

“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”

“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.” 

You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here. 

“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh. 

“Why?” 

You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you. 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.” 

Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction. 

“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.” 

He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that. 

“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.” 

Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away. 

He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he’s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever. 

“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.” 

You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself? 

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. 

You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway. 

.

.

.

“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table. 

Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.” 

“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice. 

Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it. 

“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms. 

“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.” 

“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”

“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.” 

“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.” 

“I’ll help,” he insists. 

“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.” 

He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”

“What? A blueberry pie?”

Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.

“Peace.” 

And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too. 

RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF

It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t. 

You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now. 

He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him. 

You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay. 

“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.

“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee. 

She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold. 

Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too. 

“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?” 

Maybe because he has, you want to tell her. 

Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.

“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away. 

You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself. 

However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be. 

.

.

.

The cream puffs aren’t rising.

You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise. 

But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t. 

You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff. 

“Y/N, they’re burning.” 

Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp. 

“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs. 

“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.” 

He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it. 

Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?” 

When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?” 

His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch. 

“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.” 

He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.” 

“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?” 

“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly. 

“Do you treat all your friends like that?” 

“When I don’t want to see them.” 

You wait for him to continue.

“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”

He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him. 

But he steps back. 

“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.” 

“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly. 

“I probably should,” he answers shakily. 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“Just…one reason.” 

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.” 

Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.

“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.” 

When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back. 

“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.” 

RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE

When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all. 

And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you. 

You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself. 

However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless. 

So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check. 

“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.” 

You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly. 

“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.” 

Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first. 

When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take. 

The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about― 

And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way. 

“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.” 

You stare at him, still not sure how to react. 

“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” 

Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting. 

“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?” 

You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―” 

Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.

When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath. 

“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.” 

He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?” 

“What?”

Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare. 

“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.

You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich. 

“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”

“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.

“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up. 

“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again. 

And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.

Peace. 

EXTRA

“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?” 

Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” 

“Because I’m curious.” 

“If I answer, will you let me rest?”

“Depends on how good your answer is.” 

“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.” 

You smile against the crook of his neck. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.” 

a tailored connection

pairing: designer!sunghoon x muse!reader

synopsis: sunghoon, a talented designer, has always harboured feelings for his longtime friend, you. when he invites you to be his muse, the sessions are charged with a tension that neither of you can ignore. as sunghoon’s compliments and intimate moments reveal deeper feelings, a surprising twist shakes your world. with your engagement to someone else looming and sunghoon grappling with his emotions, both of you face a turning point that will challenge everything you thought you knew about love and friendship.

genre: friends to lovers, both are fools in love

warnings: looot of tension, angst!! , kissing, crying, not really proofread

note: aaand with this royally yours comes to an end, i had a great time writing it! where can i get a man who makes me dresses like this :( i hope you enjoy reading this<3

word count: 16.8k

royally yours masterlist | prev:jake

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the sound of laughter echoes through the village streets, a memory woven into the fabric of your childhood. sunghoon had always been there, his presence as familiar to you as the sky above. you grew up side by side—first as playmates, then as something more complicated, though neither of you had the words for it yet.

it started with simple things. the way he’d hold out his hand to help you over the stones in the river, his grip firm but gentle. the way he’d always save the last piece of the bread he bought for lunch, handing it to you with a shy grin. and the way he’d linger just a bit longer when you hugged him goodbye, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go.

you were never apart for long, always finding reasons to be in each other’s company. as children, you’d run wild through the village, a pair of inseparable companions. the streets had been your playground, the trees your hideout, and the open fields your kingdom.

sunghoon was the one who taught you how to climb trees, his long limbs making it look easy as he scrambled up the tallest one in the village square. you’d followed him then, determined to keep up with him no matter what, your competitive spirit something he both teased and admired.

“come on, you can do it,” he’d called down to you one day, perched on a sturdy branch high above, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’m not leaving you behind.”

“i’m not going to be left behind,” you’d retorted, climbing faster, though your hands were trembling. you didn’t want to admit it, but heights terrified you.

sunghoon had seen through you, though, like he always did. when you reached the top, his hand had shot out to steady you, his touch reassuring. “see? i told you,” he said, smiling in that soft way that always made you feel warm inside.

that was how it always was—sunghoon pushing you to be braver, to go further, but always there to catch you if you stumbled.

as you grew older, the carefree days of your childhood evolved into something quieter, but no less meaningful. sunghoon’s passion for design began to bloom, his sketchbook always tucked under his arm, filled with dresses, cloaks, and the kind of ornate embroidery that would make any noble gasp. he’d spend hours at the village tailor’s shop, learning from the master tailor, and you’d sit in the corner, watching him work, admiring the way his hands moved with precision and care.

“why don’t you just play outside like the other girls?” the old tailor would often ask you, shaking his head with a smile. “this place is no fun for someone your age.”

you’d always smile back, knowing full well why you stayed. “i don’t mind. besides, i like watching sunghoon.”

sunghoon would look up from his work then, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “she’s my best critic,” he’d say, as if that explained everything.

but it wasn’t just about watching him work. there was something in the quiet moments between you, in the way you understood each other without having to say a word. he would sketch something and glance up, catching your eye, and you’d know exactly what he was thinking. he didn’t have to say it.

the bond between you deepened with every passing year, though the village seemed blind to it. to everyone else, you were just friends, nothing more. but there were moments—fleeting, subtle—when you felt something stirring between you, something neither of you dared to speak aloud.

it wasn’t until one late afternoon, when the two of you were sitting under the large oak tree at the edge of the village, that you truly realised how much he meant to you.

the summer sun cast a golden glow over the fields, the breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers. you were both quiet, simply enjoying each other’s company. sunghoon had his sketchbook open on his lap, his charcoal pencil moving lazily across the page. you were watching him, as you often did, wondering what it would be like to have your portrait sketched by him. would he see you differently if he looked at you that way? would the feelings you’d kept locked inside for so long show on your face?

“what are you drawing this time?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. it was always your way of trying to sneak a glimpse into the world that sunghoon poured into his designs.

he looked up, startled from his thoughts, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. “just... a dress,” he said, and though it sounded like a simple answer, there was a softness in his voice that made you curious.

“a dress?” you echoed, smiling. “for who?”

“for... no one in particular,” he murmured, closing the book before you could peek at it. “just an idea.”

you tilted your head, studying him. “you’ve been spending a lot of time on these designs lately. are you preparing for something big?”

he shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “maybe. i’ve been thinking about... making something new. something different. i don’t want to just follow the same old patterns forever.”

you nodded, understanding. sunghoon had always been ambitious, but his talent had begun to outgrow the small village you lived in. you knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to leave—venture into the capital or even beyond to showcase his work.

“whatever it is, you’ll be amazing at it,” you said, your voice steady, though your chest tightened at the thought of him leaving.

he glanced at you then, his expression unreadable. “you really think so?”

“of course,” you replied without hesitation. “i’ve always believed in you.”

the words felt heavier than they should have, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. sunghoon’s gaze lingered on you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes, but just as quickly, he looked away, his fingers nervously tapping the cover of his sketchbook.

“i couldn’t have come this far without you,” he said, his voice quiet. “you’ve always been there for me.”

you smiled softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “that’s what friends are for, right?”

but even as you said it, the word “friends” felt inadequate—too small to hold the depth of what you felt for him. and though you couldn’t say it aloud, you wondered if sunghoon felt the same.

as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the fields, the two of you sat in silence, side by side. in the fading light, everything felt suspended—like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

but neither of you moved, and the unspoken feelings between you remained just that—unspoken.

for now.

the day had started like any other. you were making your way through the village, the familiar sights and sounds surrounding you—children running through the streets, merchants shouting their daily specials, and the distant clang of the blacksmith’s hammer. but today, something felt different. there was an odd flutter in your stomach, though you couldn’t quite place why. perhaps it was because you were heading to sunghoon’s workshop, as you often did, or perhaps it was something else.

his shop had grown over the years, its modest space now brimming with elegant fabrics and mannequins draped in partially finished garments. sunghoon had worked tirelessly, his name slowly gaining recognition beyond the village, though he remained humble about his achievements. it had become a routine for you to visit him, to sit in the corner while he worked, offering your thoughts or simply watching the magic unfold under his skilled hands.

when you arrived, the door was slightly ajar, and you pushed it open to find sunghoon standing at his worktable, deep in thought. his back was turned to you, the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the window and casting a soft glow around him. he was focused, hunched over a sketch, his pencil moving in rapid strokes, as if he were chasing some fleeting inspiration.

you stepped inside quietly, not wanting to disturb him. he was always at his best when he was lost in his work—his mind far away from the village, immersed in a world of silk and satin, seams and stitches. but even in those moments, it wasn’t uncommon for him to sense your presence before you spoke.

today, though, he was more distracted than usual. he didn’t notice you until you were almost beside him, peeking over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his newest creation. “what’s this one?” you asked lightly, hoping not to startle him.

he jumped slightly, straightening up and turning to face you, a small smile forming on his lips when he saw it was you. “you’re early.”

you raised an eyebrow. “am i interrupting?”

“no, not at all,” he said, closing the sketchbook and setting it aside. “i was just... thinking.”

“you do that a lot,” you teased, leaning against the edge of the worktable. “what’s on your mind today?”

for a moment, he didn’t answer. his gaze drifted toward the window, his fingers playing absentmindedly with the hem of a piece of fabric. you could see there was something weighing on him, but sunghoon had always been the type to choose his words carefully, never speaking until he was sure of what he wanted to say.

finally, he turned back to you, his expression serious but soft. “i’ve been working on something new. something important.”

you crossed your arms, intrigued. “i figured as much. you’ve been spending even more time here than usual. what is it? a new collection?”

“not exactly,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “it’s... different this time. i want to create something that’s truly mine, something that will set me apart. but to do that, i need help.”

you blinked, surprised. sunghoon rarely asked for help, especially when it came to his designs. “help? from me?”

he nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. “i want you to be my muse.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavier than you’d expected. muse. it wasn’t just a word—it was a role that carried meaning. in a way, you’d always been part of sunghoon’s creative process, offering suggestions or simply being there to share in his successes and frustrations. but this... this was something else entirely.

you shifted your weight, suddenly feeling a little unsure. “a muse? what do you mean?”

“i mean...” he hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. “i’ve been designing dresses, outfits for people i’ve never even met. but none of them feel personal. none of them feel real. i want to create something that speaks to me, and to do that, i need someone who inspires me. someone i know. someone... like you.”

your breath caught in your throat. the way he said it, the way his eyes lingered on you—it was impossible to ignore the meaning behind his words. he wasn’t just asking you to be part of his work; he was asking you to be at the centre of it. to be the person he looked at, thought about, dreamed about while he created. and that idea stirred something inside you that you hadn’t been prepared for.

“i don’t know if i’d make a very good muse,” you said, trying to laugh it off, though your heart was racing.

sunghoon stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “you’re perfect for it. you’ve always been perfect.”

the air between you shifted, growing warmer, heavier with tension. it wasn’t the first time he’d complimented you—he was always kind, always thoughtful—but this felt different. his words weren’t casual or lighthearted. they carried weight, an unspoken truth that had been building between you for years.

you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your throat tightening. being his muse meant more than just standing still while he draped fabric around you. it meant letting him see you, really see you, in ways that no one else ever had. it felt intimate, like a part of you would be etched into every piece he made.

“what would that mean for us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon blinked, startled by the question. “what do you mean?”

“you and i,” you clarified, feeling the weight of the words. “if i agree... won’t it change things between us?”

for a long moment, sunghoon didn’t speak. he seemed to consider your words, his eyes searching your face as if trying to decipher your feelings. finally, he took a deep breath, stepping even closer, so close now that you could feel the warmth of his body. “maybe it will,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady. “but maybe it’s already changed. maybe it’s been different for a long time.”

his words hit you like a wave, the truth in them undeniable. he was right. things had changed—slowly, quietly—but neither of you had ever dared to acknowledge it. until now.

your heart hammered in your chest, the weight of his confession settling over you like a blanket. you could feel the tension between you, crackling like the air before a storm. there was something fragile, something precious hanging between you, and the slightest word or movement could shatter it.

but then, without thinking, you made your decision.

“i’ll do it,” you said, your voice barely audible, but firm.

sunghoon’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and relief passing across his face. “you will?”

you nodded, your gaze never leaving his. “yes. i’ll be your muse.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, heavy with the unspoken feelings that had been buried for so long. and then, slowly, sunghoon’s lips curved into the softest smile—a smile that reached his eyes and made something inside you melt.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, and for a brief, electrifying moment, it felt as if time stood still. you were acutely aware of how close he was, how much more intimate things had become between you in just a few short minutes.

you smiled back, though your heart was pounding. “i think it’ll be fun.”

sunghoon laughed softly, the sound low and warm, and the tension between you seemed to ease, just a little. but even as you both fell into a more comfortable silence, you knew that things between you had changed. there was no going back now.

the sun was beginning to set as you made your way to sunghoon’s shop, a soft, golden glow spreading across the village. it had been only a few days since you agreed to be his muse, but the weight of that decision still lingered in your mind. there was a sense of anticipation, an underlying current of excitement that thrummed through you, but also an edge of nervousness that you couldn’t shake.

you had always been comfortable around sunghoon, but this felt different. it wasn’t just visiting a friend; you were stepping into a role that felt intimate in ways you hadn’t quite expected. and you knew that once you crossed the threshold of his workshop today, something between you would shift again.

when you arrived, sunghoon was already waiting. the door was propped open, and you could hear the faint sounds of rustling fabric and the occasional scratch of his pencil against paper. you hesitated for a moment at the doorway, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

sunghoon looked up as soon as you entered, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “you came,” he said, sounding almost relieved.

“of course i did,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the quickening of your pulse. “i’m your muse now, remember?”

his smile widened just a little, and he motioned for you to come in. “right. my muse.”

the word still felt strange on your tongue, and hearing him say it made something flutter in your chest. you glanced around the room, noticing that he had cleared some space near the large windows where the light poured in. rolls of fabric were neatly arranged, sketchbooks stacked nearby, and a dress form stood at the centre, waiting to be draped with something new.

you stepped closer, feeling the warmth of the sunlight against your skin, but also the weight of sunghoon’s gaze on you. his eyes followed your every movement, a soft intensity in them that made the space between you feel smaller, more charged.

“so, where do we start?” you asked, forcing a smile to break the tension that was building in the room.

sunghoon set down his pencil and moved to stand beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he reached for a roll of fabric. “i was thinking we’d start by figuring out what you like. i want to design something that feels like you—not just any dress, but one that you’d wear and feel... beautiful in.”

the way he said the word beautiful made your stomach flip. you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the way his voice lingered on the compliment.

“what i like?” you repeated, frowning slightly. “i’m not sure. i mean, i’ve never really thought about it.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, glancing over at you with a small smile. “you’ve never thought about what you like in dresses? after all this time of coming here and watching me work?”

you laughed, a little nervous. “i guess i’ve always been more interested in what you were making for other people.”

“well,” he said, his voice softening, “now it’s time to think about what’s right for you.”

he moved closer, picking up a few pieces of fabric and holding them up to the light. “what do you think of these? what colours feel like you?”

you eyed the fabrics he held—a deep emerald green, a soft blush pink, and a striking midnight blue. each one seemed to carry a different weight, a different mood, and the idea of choosing one for yourself felt strangely personal.

“i’m not sure,” you admitted, reaching out to touch the green fabric. “i’ve always liked green, but... i don’t know if it suits me.”

sunghoon tilted his head, his eyes flickering over you, as if he were studying you in a way he hadn’t before. “it suits you,” he said quietly, the certainty in his voice catching you off guard. “it brings out your eyes. but so would the blue.”

you blinked, surprised by the compliment. sunghoon wasn’t one to flatter people needlessly, especially not you. his compliments usually came in the form of casual remarks, offhand observations about how a colour might work or how you carried yourself in a certain style. but this—this was different. there was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you now, that felt far more intimate.

you felt your face grow warm under his gaze, suddenly self-conscious. “you think so?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“i know so,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. “you have a way of making things look better just by wearing them. it’s not just about the dress—it’s about how you wear it.”

the room seemed to shrink, the air between you growing heavier with each passing second. you hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to speak so plainly, so openly. sunghoon had always been composed, professional, even around you. but now, there was something more vulnerable in the way he spoke, something unguarded.

you cleared your throat, trying to break the moment before it became too much. “well, what about styles then? i’ve always liked simpler designs. nothing too extravagant.”

sunghoon nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still lingering on you, as if he were trying to memorise every detail of your expression. “simple suits you,” he murmured. “but there’s something about you that deserves more. something elegant.”

“elegant?” you echoed, unsure of where this was coming from.

“mm,” he hummed, reaching for his sketchbook. “you’ve always carried yourself with a kind of grace—like you don’t even realise how beautiful you are.”

your breath hitched. you stared at him, your heart pounding louder in your chest as his words hung in the air between you. this wasn’t just a compliment—it was something else. something deeper. and the realisation of it hit you like a wave.

sunghoon, too, seemed to realise the weight of what he’d just said. he quickly looked away, focusing on his sketchbook as if he could take the words back by drowning them in his work. “i didn’t mean to... i mean...”

you stood there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. you had never thought of yourself the way sunghoon was describing you now, and the fact that he saw you like this—it was overwhelming. you could feel the tension crackling between you, the unspoken feelings that had always lingered beneath the surface suddenly threatening to rise.

“i just... think you should have something that shows who you are,” sunghoon continued, his voice quieter now, more careful. “not just as my muse, but as you. something that makes people stop and see you the way i do.”

your pulse quickened at his words, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to speak. the way he was looking at you now, with an intensity you hadn’t seen before, made it feel like the walls of the workshop were closing in.

you glanced down, trying to focus on the fabric in your hands, but the weight of his gaze lingered. “sunghoon... i don’t know what to say.”

he shook his head, stepping back slightly as if to give you space. “you don’t have to say anything. i just... i want you to feel beautiful in whatever i make for you. that’s all.”

there was a long pause, the only sound in the room being the soft rustle of fabric as you ran your fingers over the green material again. your mind was spinning, your heart racing, and yet you couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through you at his words. it wasn’t just the compliment—it was the way he saw you, the way he always had.

finally, you looked up, meeting his gaze once more. “i trust you, sunghoon. i always have.”

his eyes softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “good,” he said quietly. “because i promise, whatever we create together, it’s going to be something unforgettable.”

the light from the late afternoon sun bathed sunghoon’s workshop in a golden hue, casting long shadows that stretched across the room. you stood near the centre, nervously smoothing the fabric of your dress as sunghoon readied his tools. he had done this countless times—measuring clients for garments—but somehow, this felt different. more intimate. more real.

“alright,” he said, his voice a little too casual as he approached with a measuring tape in hand. “this won’t take long.”

you nodded, trying to keep your breathing steady as you watched him move closer. sunghoon had always been meticulous when it came to his work, his hands sure and steady, but today there was a faint tremor in them as he unspooled the tape.

“so, uh,” he began, his gaze flickering between your face and the tape in his hands. “we’ll start with your shoulders. just... relax.”

you forced a smile, though the tension in the air was impossible to ignore. “i’m relaxed.”

he shot you a look that said he wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t argue. he stepped behind you, and you could feel his presence—warm, steady—just inches away. the fabric of your dress shifted slightly as he gently placed the tape around your shoulders, his fingers grazing your skin ever so lightly. the contact sent a shiver down your spine, though you tried your best to suppress it.

for a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft rustling of the measuring tape as he adjusted it. you could feel your heart beating faster, your pulse quickening with each passing second. sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to be holding his breath, as if he were just as aware of the closeness as you were.

“alright,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, more focused. “now your waist.”

he stepped around to face you, his gaze briefly meeting yours before dropping to the tape in his hands. his movements were careful, almost hesitant, as he crouched slightly, bringing the tape around your waist. you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as his fingers brushed the sides of your dress, the heat of his touch lingering longer than it should have.

the proximity, the feel of his hands so close to you—it was almost too much. you bit your lip, fighting the urge to fidget under his intense concentration. sunghoon had always been calm, composed, but now there was an unmistakable tension in the air, a subtle awkwardness that made your heart race even faster.

he straightened up, pulling the tape taut as he noted your measurements. “i... uh,” he began, clearing his throat slightly, “i’ll need to get your bust next.”

you blinked, feeling your face grow warm. “oh. right.”

it wasn’t as if you hadn’t expected it—this was part of the process, after all—but somehow the idea of sunghoon taking that particular measurement felt... different. the room seemed smaller, the air thicker as you watched him struggle to keep his composure.

his hand hovered for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do. “i—uh,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “just... hold still.”

you nodded, though you could feel the flush rising to your cheeks as he brought the tape around your chest, his fingers brushing the fabric of your dress with the lightest touch. his face was close now—closer than it had ever been—his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you.

neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, heavy with the unspoken desires that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. his fingers fumbled slightly as he adjusted the tape, and for a brief moment, his hand brushed against your skin, sending a shock of electricity through you.

you inhaled sharply, your breath hitching at the unexpected contact, and sunghoon froze. his eyes flicked up to meet yours, wide and startled, as if he hadn’t meant to let the moment slip.

“sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t mean to...”

“it’s fine,” you said quickly, though your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

but he didn’t move away. his hand remained where it was, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. you could feel every inch of him—every breath, every subtle movement—and the closeness was dizzying. there was something in his eyes, something unspoken, that made your pulse race even faster.

you swallowed hard, your voice barely steady as you spoke. “sunghoon...”

he blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and quickly stepped back, dropping the measuring tape as if it had burned him. “i—i think that’s enough for now,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck again, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “i’ve got what i need.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. “are you sure? i mean, if you need more measurements—”

“no!” he said, perhaps a little too quickly, then cleared his throat. “i mean, no. we’re good. i’ve got everything.”

the tension between you was palpable, thick and heavy, but neither of you knew how to break it. sunghoon busied himself with gathering the tape and jotting down notes, though his movements were jerky, his usual calm demeanour nowhere to be found.

you watched him, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest. there was an awkwardness, yes, but also something else—something that had been building between you for a long time, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.

finally, sunghoon spoke again, though his voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “you know,” he said, not meeting your eyes, “you really do have... perfect proportions.”

your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you completely off guard. “what?”

he cleared his throat, rubbing his neck awkwardly once more. “i mean... for the dress,” he added quickly, as if trying to backtrack. “you have a really... balanced figure. for tailoring, i mean.”

you blinked, taken aback by the sudden compliment, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. it wasn’t just what he said—it was the way he said it. the way his voice softened, the way he fidgeted under your gaze, as if he were revealing more than he intended.

“i... thanks?” you managed, feeling your cheeks burn with a mix of surprise and awkwardness.

sunghoon gave you a tight-lipped smile, clearly as flustered as you were. “yeah. no problem.”

the silence that followed was thick and heavy, both of you too aware of the tension that had settled over the room like a heavy blanket. sunghoon quickly turned away, busying himself with his sketches, but the weight of the moment lingered in the air, unspoken but undeniable.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart, but you knew—no matter how much you both tried to pretend otherwise—something between you had shifted. and neither of you were quite ready to confront it yet.

the days following that first measurement session seemed to blur together, each one filled with quiet moments, shared glances, and unspoken words that hung heavy in the air. sunghoon had thrown himself into the design, sketching feverishly as if creating your dress had become not just his project, but his obsession. every stroke of his pencil seemed deliberate, every detail in the fabric a reflection of how closely he had studied you—not just your body, but you as a person.

the workshop had become a second home to you, and you found yourself spending more and more time there as the dress took shape. each day, you would come in, greeted by the soft sounds of scissors slicing through fabric and the rhythmic hum of sunghoon’s needle as he stitched delicate patterns. his focus was unbreakable, yet there was always that moment when he would pause, look at you, and give a small, almost shy smile, as if he still couldn’t believe you were there, helping him create something so personal.

the tension between you grew thicker with every passing day. it was as if the fabric sunghoon was weaving was also binding the two of you together in ways neither of you had expected. there were the long stretches of silence, where the only sound was the soft brush of fabric against your skin as he worked, and then there were the moments when his hand would linger just a little too long as he adjusted the fit of a sleeve or pinned the hem of a skirt.

each session brought a new creation—a new dress, a new style. it had become almost routine: he would sketch out his ideas, asking for your thoughts on the design, and then you would model the fabric as he draped it over you, pinning it into place before moving on to the next step. but no matter how professional sunghoon tried to keep things, there was always that spark of something more lurking beneath the surface.

one afternoon, as you stood in the centre of the room, sunghoon paced around you, scrutinising the latest dress he had draped over your frame. this one was softer than the others, a light cream-coloured gown with delicate embroidery along the bodice. you could feel the weight of his gaze as he circled you, studying every fold, every contour, as if he were memorising the shape of you through the fabric.

“what do you think?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady, his eyes focused entirely on you.

you glanced down at the dress, running your fingers over the soft fabric. “it’s beautiful,” you murmured. “you’ve really outdone yourself.”

sunghoon didn’t respond right away. instead, he stepped closer, his brow furrowing slightly as he adjusted the neckline of the gown. his fingers grazed your collarbone as he worked, sending a shiver through you. he seemed to hesitate, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, before he cleared his throat and stepped back.

“i’m trying to capture... something,” he said, his voice trailing off as he picked up his pencil and notepad, scribbling down a few notes. “something that feels... like you.”

you blinked, surprised by his words. “like me?”

he nodded, not looking up from his notes. “it’s not just about the dress. it’s about how you move, how you carry yourself. i want to create something that feels like it belongs to you. not just any dress, but... your dress.”

there it was again—that intensity in his words, the way he seemed to see you in ways no one else ever had. you weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply nodded, letting the moment settle between you.

the sessions continued like this over the next two weeks, each one more charged than the last. sunghoon worked tirelessly, sketching new designs late into the night, and every day you would return to see the progress he had made. he would greet you with that familiar smile, sometimes shy, sometimes teasing, and you would fall into the rhythm of your muse-and-artist routine.

but there was something else growing between you, something neither of you could ignore. each time sunghoon draped a new fabric over your shoulders, each time his fingers brushed your skin as he measured or adjusted the fit, the unspoken tension between you deepened. his compliments, once casual and light, became more thoughtful, more personal.

one day, as he worked on the finishing touches of a new gown—a soft lavender dress with delicate lace trimming—he paused, glancing at you from across the room. “you know,” he said, his voice softer than usual, “i’ve always known you were beautiful.”

you froze, your heart skipping a beat at his sudden confession. he didn’t meet your eyes, instead focusing on the hem of the dress as he stitched. “i just... i don’t think i’ve ever told you that,” he continued, his voice almost hesitant.

the words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. sunghoon had always been complimentary in his own way—praising your grace or your proportions for the sake of his designs—but this was different. there was something raw, something vulnerable in his tone that made your chest tighten.

“sunghoon,” you began, but he quickly shook his head, cutting you off before you could continue.

“i’m not saying it for any reason,” he said quickly, his hands still busy with his stitching. “i just... i think it’s something you should know. you’re more than just a muse to me.”

your breath caught in your throat. the weight of his words was impossible to ignore now, the line between friend and something more growing blurrier with each passing day.

you watched him work, his brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the task at hand. the quiet intimacy of the moment settled around you like a soft cloak, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else existed outside of this room—just you, sunghoon, and the delicate threads of connection that were slowly being woven together.

by the time he finished the lavender dress, the air between you had shifted once again. there was no denying the feelings that had been bubbling beneath the surface for so long, but neither of you were ready to confront them. not yet.

“i think it’s done,” sunghoon said quietly, stepping back to admire the dress.

you turned, catching his eye for a brief moment before looking away, the tension between you still thick and unresolved.

“it’s perfect,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer before he turned back to his sketches, his hands already moving toward the next design. but as he worked, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted once again, pulling you both closer to the inevitable.

the day sunghoon finally called you to his workshop to try on the completed dress, your heartbeat quickened with anticipation. you had witnessed pieces of the gown as it came together—folds of fabric, tiny swirls of embroidery—but you hadn’t yet seen the masterpiece in its entirety. now, standing at the doorway, you felt a fluttering mix of nerves and excitement, an invisible pull drawing you into sunghoon’s world once more.

as you stepped inside, you found sunghoon waiting, his face a picture of quiet intensity. he nodded toward the mannequin where the dress hung, his eyes unreadable but somehow deeper, darker than usual, as if holding back something unspoken.

when your gaze finally landed on the dress, your breath caught in your throat.

it was breathtaking.

the gown was nothing short of exquisite—lavender silk flowed like water from the bodice down to the floor, shimmering under the afternoon light that streamed through the windows. the neckline was delicately embroidered, the threads so fine they seemed like whispers etched into the fabric, while lace fluttered over the sleeves, giving the piece an ethereal, almost dream-like quality. the entire dress exuded elegance, but more than that, it felt like you—a reflection of something so deeply personal that you almost couldn’t believe sunghoon had captured it.

you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the gown. “sunghoon... i don’t even know what to say,” you whispered, your fingers brushing the edge of the fabric. “it’s perfect.”

he remained silent, watching you with a quiet intensity that sent shivers down your spine. his gaze didn’t waver as you admired the dress, his expression unreadable but brimming with something just beneath the surface.

“try it on,” he finally said, his voice low and steady, though there was a note of something raw in it.

nodding, you carefully took the dress from the mannequin and disappeared behind the changing screen, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. the fabric felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the gown, the weight of the silk settling around your body like it had been made just for you—which, of course, it had.

the dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the bodice fitting snugly while the skirt fanned out into a soft cascade of fabric. you ran your hands down the front, smoothing the delicate lace as a quiet gasp escaped your lips. it was perfect—no, more than perfect. it was everything you had dreamed of.

but there was one problem. as you reached behind your back to tie the strings that secured the dress, you quickly realised they were positioned just out of your reach. you stretched and fumbled, trying to catch the ties, but it was no use. frustration bubbled inside you, and after a few more futile attempts, you sighed in defeat.

“sunghoon?” your voice was hesitant, your cheeks warming as you called for his help.

“yes?” he replied, his voice soft but nearby.

“i... i can’t tie the strings on my own. could you—could you help me?” your request was almost timid, aware of the intimacy it required, but there was no other option.

a pause followed, but then you heard his footsteps approaching. he came closer, and the air between you seemed to shift, charged with a kind of tension that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“of course,” sunghoon said quietly. his voice had taken on a softer tone, one that sent a quiet thrill through you as you stood there, waiting, feeling the heat of his presence behind you.

you turned your back to him, exposing the bare skin between the open edges of the dress. the silence that followed was thick, palpable, as his fingers grazed the strings, brushing against your skin in the process. his touch was featherlight, but each accidental contact sent small jolts through you, your senses heightened by the proximity, the intimacy of the moment.

sunghoon worked with slow, deliberate care, pulling the strings through the loops at your back. his fingertips continued to brush your skin, his movements precise but betraying the tension in the way his breath seemed to catch when his hands touched you. you could feel his closeness—the heat radiating from his body, his steady breath that almost matched the rhythm of your own heartbeat.

in the mirror directly in front of you, you watched his expression as he tied the delicate knots. his brow was slightly furrowed in concentration, but there was something else, something simmering beneath the surface. his lips parted ever so slightly, his eyes darkening as they traced the movement of his hands against your skin. you couldn’t stop staring at him, watching the way his fingers worked, almost trembling as they lingered on your body longer than necessary.

your pulse quickened, your breath coming out a little too shallow, and you wondered if he could feel the way your muscles tensed under his touch. it was impossible to ignore the tension—something unspoken, something that had been building between you for weeks, was about to break.

“there,” sunghoon murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. his hands remained on your waist, resting lightly against the fabric as though he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet.

you swallowed hard, watching him through the mirror. the look on his face wasn’t just one of pride in his work—it was something far deeper. his gaze softened as he admired the way the dress fit you, his fingers tightening slightly against your waist. “you look... beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “it suits you perfectly. is it comfortable?”

the words were innocent enough, but the way he said them—the hushed tone, the way his eyes never left yours in the reflection—made your heart race. you nodded, unable to form words, still lost in the haze of the moment.

“it’s perfect,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

sunghoon’s hands stayed where they were, his touch sending a heat through you that was impossible to ignore. your eyes met his in the mirror, the intensity between you crackling like a flame barely held back. his grip on your waist tightened just a little, his fingers pressing into the fabric as though he were anchoring himself.

for a moment, everything froze. the workshop, the world outside—none of it seemed to matter. all that existed was the way he was looking at you, the way his breath hitched as he stood so close. his fingers brushed against your waist, just under the edge of the fabric, grazing the skin there ever so slightly.

then you turned around, and suddenly, the space between you was gone.

you were standing so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, your chest brushing against his as you moved. his eyes darted to your lips, then back up to your gaze, conflicted but full of want. the air was thick with tension, so much that you could hardly breathe, and then, without warning, sunghoon’s restraint snapped.

he kissed you.

the kiss was swift, almost frantic, as if he’d been holding it back for too long. his lips pressed against yours with a kind of hunger that sent shockwaves through your body, stealing your breath. one of his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, while the other remained at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of the dress as though he were afraid you’d slip away. the kiss deepened, your senses overwhelmed by the heat of his mouth against yours, the way his hands held you like he’d never let go.

your mind spun in a whirlwind of sensation. the kiss was impulsive, raw, filled with all the feelings he had been holding back for so long. you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—all you could do was respond, kissing him back with the same intensity, the same desperate need that had been growing between you for weeks.

but then, reality crashed down.

sunghoon pulled back, his eyes wide with shock and regret, his breath ragged as he stared at you. “i—” his voice faltered, his hand still lingering on your waist, trembling slightly. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i didn’t mean to—”

you were just as dazed, your heart still pounding, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “it’s... it’s okay,” you said, though the words felt hollow. the kiss had left you reeling, and you weren’t sure what to think, what to feel.

sunghoon’s expression twisted with regret, his hands falling away from your waist as he stepped back. “we shouldn’t have—” he shook his head, his face pale. “i crossed a line.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the tension between you shift into something heavier, something filled with confusion and guilt. “maybe we should forget this happened,” you whispered, though the weight of the kiss still lingered in the air.

he nodded, his expression tight, though the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. “yeah. let’s... forget it.”

but neither of you could. the kiss, the way his hands had held you, the way your heart had raced—it was etched into the fabric of your friendship now, impossible to untangle.

word had spread quickly about sunghoon's exceptional craftsmanship. it began with whispers among the town’s elite, impressed with the stunning gown he had created for you, and soon, nobles from far and wide were flocking to his workshop, eager to have their own garments custom-made by his skilled hands. what had once been a modest business now thrived under the weight of new orders, with sunghoon’s talent finally receiving the recognition it deserved.

every day the workshop buzzed with activity—fine fabrics and intricate patterns sprawled across every surface, and sunghoon worked tirelessly, sketching designs, selecting fabrics, and stitching together dreams. you often found yourself there, as his muse, watching as he brought these creations to life, offering input or simply keeping him company through the long hours. his success was yours to share, and you couldn’t have been more proud.

one day, a letter arrived from the royal palace itself. the princess had heard of sunghoon’s work and requested him personally to craft a gown for her upcoming ball. the letter was written in elegant script on fine parchment, a formal request for his presence at the palace to discuss the details of the gown. when he read it aloud to you, you could hardly contain your excitement.

“sunghoon, this is incredible!” you exclaimed, beaming at him as he held the letter in his hands. his eyes shone with a mixture of pride and disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

“it’s surreal,” he admitted, glancing at you with a smile that warmed you from the inside out. “i never thought i’d be making dresses for royalty.”

“you deserve it,” you said earnestly, feeling your heart swell with admiration for him. “you’ve worked so hard, and now everyone can see just how talented you are.”

sunghoon’s smile faltered for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes as he looked at you. “i couldn’t have done it without you,” he said softly. there was a weight to his words, a depth of feeling that you felt but couldn’t quite name. your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, he turned away, folding the letter carefully.

the trip to the palace was an experience neither of you would forget. the sprawling estate, the opulence of the interiors, the sense of awe that filled you as you walked through the grand halls—it was like stepping into another world. sunghoon had been invited to meet with the princess and discuss her gown, and as his muse and close friend, you accompanied him.

the princess was gracious and kind, and she spoke with sunghoon about the design she envisioned, praising his previous work. throughout the conversation, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, watching the way he carried himself with quiet confidence, his artistic mind already turning over the details of the gown in his head. it was hard not to feel a swell of pride, knowing you had played a part in his journey to this moment.

afterward, when the order had been placed and the royal commission secured, sunghoon suggested you both celebrate the occasion.

the restaurant was warm and cosy, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, far removed from the grandeur of the palace. the two of you had shared many meals together over the years, but tonight felt different. the weight of sunghoon’s newfound success hung in the air between you, the knowledge that his life—your lives—were changing in ways you hadn’t fully anticipated.

you sat across from him, toasting to his success with glasses of wine, laughter bubbling up as you reminisced about old times. “do you remember the time we tried to make that dress for my cousin’s wedding, and the fabric tore right before the ceremony?” you said, laughing as you recalled the chaos.

sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “how could i forget? i thought i was finished as a tailor before i even started.”

“but you saved it in the end,” you said, your smile softening as you looked at him. “you’ve always had this way of making things beautiful, even when they seem impossible.”

his laughter faded, and for a moment, there was a lingering silence between you. his gaze met yours, and the atmosphere seemed to shift—something unspoken hung between you, thick and heavy like the summer air. the warmth from the wine and the closeness of the moment made it difficult to focus on anything else but him—the way the candlelight flickered against his features, the way his eyes softened when they lingered on you just a little too long.

he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “you know, this success… it’s more than i ever thought possible. and i don’t think i could have done it without you by my side.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, the intensity in his eyes making your breath hitch. there it was again—that undercurrent of something more, something that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to break free.

your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned in slightly, your faces just inches apart. the air between you crackled with anticipation, the proximity sending sparks down your spine. you could feel the warmth of his breath, the space between you narrowing with every passing second. your eyes locked, and in that moment, it felt like the world had fallen away.

the moment stretched on, and you could feel your heart racing, your pulse thundering in your ears. he was so close now, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body, close enough that all it would take was one small movement, one tiny step forward, and—

“i’m getting married,” you blurted out, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

sunghoon froze, his eyes widening in shock. the spell between you shattered, and you immediately regretted speaking, but there was no taking it back now. the air between you went cold, and you felt your stomach drop as the weight of your announcement settled over the table like a heavy blanket.

“what?” his voice was low, strained, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard.

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “my parents... they’ve arranged a marriage for me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m engaged.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sunghoon stared at you, his expression unreadable, though you could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. his jaw clenched slightly, his hand tightening around his glass as if he were trying to steady himself.

“when?” he finally asked, his voice tight, controlled.

“the date hasn’t been set yet,” you admitted, feeling your throat tighten with guilt. “but... soon.”

sunghoon sat back in his chair, his gaze dropping to the table. for a long moment, he didn’t say anything, the silence between you stretching into something unbearable. you could see the conflict in his eyes—the hurt, the frustration, the confusion. the tension that had been building between you for weeks, months even, was now thick with an unspoken finality.

finally, he looked up at you, his eyes dark and clouded with emotion. “congratulations,” he said quietly, though the word felt hollow, like it had been ripped from him unwillingly.

your heart sank, a wave of disappointment washing over you. you had expected... well, you didn’t know what you had expected. for him to fight for you, maybe, to protest or say something that would change everything. but instead, all you got was a distant, polite congratulations.

“sunghoon—” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

“i’m happy for you,” he said, though the strain in his voice betrayed his true feelings. “i’m sure he’s a good man.”

the words stung, more than you had anticipated, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep ache in your chest. this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. but what could you say? you were engaged, and he... he was congratulating you, just as any friend would.

“yeah,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. “thanks.”

but neither of you was happy, and you both knew it.

the walk back home felt heavier than usual. the excitement and easy flow of conversation that had filled the night seemed to dissipate into an awkward, thick silence. sunghoon walked beside you, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, eyes focused on the road ahead. normally, you’d both talk about everything and nothing—jokes, shared memories, or the latest designs he had been working on. but tonight, every step felt strained, as if the unspoken words were choking both of you.

you could feel the weight of what had happened at the restaurant still hanging between you, as if the tension you hadn’t acted on had only grown with your admission. sunghoon had insisted on walking you home, just as he always did, though the usual warmth in the gesture felt distant now. neither of you had tried to break the silence, though you kept stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye.

his face was unreadable, lips pressed into a thin line as he walked with an unusual stiffness. you wanted to say something, to break the thick silence, but no words came. the engagement had changed everything between you, and you hated how powerless it made you feel. there was a dull ache in your chest as you watched him struggle with the weight of emotions he clearly wasn’t ready to share.

when your house came into view, you slowed your steps, almost wishing the walk could last just a little longer. but it didn’t. you reached your doorstep, and just as you were about to thank sunghoon for the walk, the door swung open.

your mother appeared, her face lighting up the moment she saw the two of you standing there. “sunghoon! what a surprise!” she exclaimed warmly, stepping out and pulling him into an embrace before he could protest. “you look so well!”

sunghoon smiled politely, though you could tell he was caught off guard by her enthusiasm. “good evening, ma’am. i was just walking your daughter home.”

your mother beamed, glancing at you with that knowing look of hers. “he always does, doesn’t he?” she teased lightly. “such a good boy.”

“mama...” you muttered, feeling embarrassed.

but your mother wasn’t finished. “come in, come in! you can’t just leave him standing outside like that,” she scolded, ushering sunghoon into the house before either of you could object. you shot him an apologetic look, but he waved it off with a small smile as he followed her inside.

the warmth of your home enveloped you both, the familiar scent of dinner lingering in the air. your father was sitting by the fire, and when he saw sunghoon, his face brightened. “ah, there’s the young tailor everyone’s talking about! come, sit with us.”

sunghoon looked between you and your parents, clearly not wanting to intrude, but it was hard to refuse the hospitality of your family. you watched as he settled into one of the chairs near the fire, his polite smile fixed in place, though you could sense the unease in his posture.

your mother sat beside him, clasping his hands in hers as she looked at him with pride. “sunghoon, i’ve heard such incredible things about your work lately. everyone is talking about you, and we couldn’t be more proud.”

you could see the discomfort in his eyes as your mother’s words began to feel more like a reminder of the distance between you. he offered her a tight smile. “thank you. it’s been... unexpected.”

“and well deserved!” your father chimed in. “we always knew you’d make something of yourself, ever since you were little.”

your mother nodded eagerly, her gaze softening as she looked at him fondly. “we’ve seen you grow up alongside our daughter, sunghoon. you two have always been so close... practically inseparable.”

you stiffened at the words, knowing what was coming next.

“which is why,” your mother continued, glancing at you briefly before turning back to sunghoon, “it’s been so hard for her, this whole engagement business.”

your stomach twisted. the topic you had been dreading was now out in the open, and you didn’t miss the way sunghoon’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. he was trying to stay composed, but the flicker of surprise in his eyes was unmistakable.

“she’s protested quite a bit, hasn’t she?” your mother added, her tone half-amused, half-concerned.

sunghoon’s eyes darted toward you, his surprise evident. you could see the confusion in his expression as he processed your mother’s words. you hadn’t said yes to the engagement? not fully? he had assumed you had accepted it without question, but now...

you averted your gaze, feeling your cheeks flush under the weight of both his and your parents’ attention. you hadn’t exactly fought against the engagement with much force either. it was an unspoken understanding between you and your family that the marriage would happen eventually, even if your heart wasn’t fully in it. but now, seeing sunghoon’s expression shift, you could see the conflict in his eyes.

your mother continued on, oblivious to the tension now thick in the air. “it’s just nerves, of course. every girl feels a bit uncertain before a big step like this.” she smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “she’ll come around.”

you wanted to protest, to say something that would dispel the awkward silence stretching between you and sunghoon, but the words caught in your throat. instead, your mother’s next words hit like a hammer, unknowingly driving the wedge deeper.

“actually,” she began, her voice suddenly filled with excitement, “we were hoping you could help us with something, sunghoon.”

he blinked, taken aback by her tone. “of course, ma’am. what is it?”

“well,” she said, glancing at you with a grin, “who better to make our daughter’s wedding dress than the most talented designer in town?”

the room felt as if it had dropped several degrees, the weight of her request pressing down on all of you. you felt your stomach churn, a sinking feeling of dread settling in. you hadn’t expected this—he hadn’t expected this. you watched as sunghoon’s expression faltered for the briefest moment, his composure slipping as the full impact of your mother’s words hit him.

make your wedding dress. your wedding dress.

he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “i’d be honored,” he said quietly, his voice strained.

your mother clapped her hands together, beaming with delight. “oh, that’s wonderful! i knew we could count on you, sunghoon.”

he stood up then, a sudden stiffness in his movements. “thank you for your kindness,” he said, his voice more formal now. “but it’s late, and i should be going.”

your mother stood as well, ushering him toward the door with a fond smile. “of course, of course. but we must meet soon to discuss the dress!”

sunghoon nodded, his gaze avoiding yours as he headed for the door. you followed behind in silence, the heaviness between you both suffocating.

at the doorstep, he paused, his hand resting on the doorframe as he turned to face you one last time. there was something broken in his expression, a quiet sadness that you couldn’t quite place. for a moment, it seemed as if he might say something—something real, something raw—but then, he simply nodded.

“good night,” he whispered, before turning and walking away.

as you watched him disappear into the night, your heart ached with the words left unsaid, the feelings unspoken, and the love you both were too afraid to fight for.

as sunghoon walked through the dimly lit streets, the cool night air did little to ease the storm brewing inside him. each step echoed in the stillness, but his mind was anything but calm. the evening had turned from tense excitement into a suffocating weight pressing down on his chest.

he replayed your mother’s words over and over in his mind: “who better to make our daughter’s wedding dress than the most talented designer in town?” the words had cut deeper than any blade, the cruel irony of it all making his heart twist painfully. he had dreamed of crafting something beautiful for you, yes, but never like this. not for someone else’s wedding. not for the marriage that would take you away from him.

sunghoon clenched his fists, his knuckles white as his nails bit into his palms. a marriage. to someone else. he could barely picture it, the idea so foreign and painful that it seemed absurd. but the reality was right there, looming in front of him like an unstoppable force. he had always known that this day would come. you were from a noble family, destined to marry someone of status. and him? he was a tailor, nothing more. his growing reputation in town meant little in comparison to the weight of your family’s expectations.

it’s for the best, he told himself, over and over, like a mantra he hoped would dull the pain. your life with that man—whoever he was—would be easier, more secure. you’d live the life you were meant to lead, filled with luxury, stability, and everything a noblewoman deserved. sunghoon had nothing to offer in comparison. even with his recent success, his craft could never provide you with the life that an arranged marriage could.

sunghoon’s pace quickened, the weight of his emotions making it harder to breathe. his mind whirled with a painful realization: it’s better this way. he had no right to confess his feelings to you now. no right to complicate your life any further. you were getting married, and he had to respect that. confessing his love wouldn’t change anything—it would only hurt you more, and he couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of your pain.

he thought of the way you had looked at him tonight, how your eyes had softened when you admitted that you hadn’t agreed to the marriage yet. the flicker of hope that had briefly ignited in his chest had been swiftly extinguished by the cold voice of reason. you deserved better than him, better than a life filled with uncertainty and struggle. and even though it tore him apart inside, sunghoon knew he had to let you go.

she’ll be happier without me. the thought twisted like a knife in his heart, but he held onto it like a lifeline. it was easier to believe that than to face the truth—that he was simply too afraid. too afraid to fight for you, too afraid of what loving you truly meant. because if he did confess, if he asked you to choose him, what then? you would have to give up your life of comfort, your family’s support, and the future they had planned for you. and what if you regretted that decision later? what if he couldn’t be enough for you?

no. he wouldn’t let that happen. he couldn’t risk it.

by the time sunghoon reached his workshop, his heart was heavy with the decision he had made. he stepped inside, the familiar smell of fabric and wood filling the space around him, but it no longer brought him any comfort. he stood in the dim light, surrounded by the tools of his trade—the very things that had brought him success—and felt nothing but emptiness.

he wouldn’t confess. he couldn’t.

because he loved you too much to ask you to settle for less.

the tension between you and sunghoon hung in the air like a thick fog, clouding everything you had once held dear.

he avoided you, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. each passing day, you found yourself hoping—desperately—that he would come to you, that he would say something to stop the impending wedding. but instead, sunghoon pretended to be okay. he carried on with his work, his life, as if the confession hadn’t happened. as if you hadn’t bared your soul to him and he hadn’t done the same. he buried his emotions, putting on that same calm, controlled front, and it drove you mad.

he wouldn’t fight for you.

your heart ached with the realisation, and it became painfully clear during the next few days that sunghoon had no intention of changing the course of things. the silence between you both was unbearable, the distance growing wider with each passing moment. and just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, your parents made it worse.

they scheduled an appointment with sunghoon for the most painful task yet: designing your wedding dress.

the irony of it was too cruel. sunghoon, the man who knew every inch of you, who had memorised your shape, your measurements, who had held you so intimately in his arms, was now tasked with crafting the gown you would wear as you married someone else. it was the final blow, the final insult, to a relationship that had been ripped apart by circumstances you couldn’t control.

when the day of the appointment arrived, you found yourself standing outside his workshop, dread pooling in your stomach. you didn’t want to go inside. you didn’t want to face him, not after everything that had happened, and certainly not for this.

with a deep breath, you pushed the door open, stepping into the familiar space that now felt cold and foreign. sunghoon was already there, standing by his work table with rolls of fabric laid out in front of him, but the usual warmth in his eyes was absent. he looked up when you entered, his expression neutral, professional. he greeted you with a small nod.

“let’s get started,” he said, his voice low, as if he too was trying to suppress the emotions that lingered just beneath the surface.

you could barely look at him. the air was thick with tension, and you forced yourself to speak, though your voice came out flat, distant.

“i don’t even know why i’m here,” you muttered, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “this is just… a formality.”

sunghoon’s eyes flickered briefly with something—hurt, maybe—but he masked it quickly. “your parents want you to have the perfect dress. it’s important to them.”

the atmosphere inside sunghoon’s workshop felt suffocating. you sat rigidly on a small chair, staring at the neatly folded fabrics in front of you while sunghoon prepared his tools. everything about the moment felt forced, mechanical, nothing like the ease and flow of your previous sessions together. you didn’t want to be there. and you were making it painfully clear.

sunghoon turned to face you, holding a few sketches in his hand, his face expressionless. but you could sense the tension in the air, the unspoken pain that lingered between you both. he wasn’t the same, and neither were you.

“so,” he began, keeping his voice calm and professional, “do you have any preferences for the neckline? maybe something you’ve always liked?”

you shrugged, not even looking up at him. “don’t know. don’t care.”

his brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing, nodding as if that response was perfectly normal. he glanced down at the sketches again, adjusting the paper. “okay… how about the fabric? i was thinking something soft, maybe silk? or—”

“whatever,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “doesn’t matter.”

sunghoon paused, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. you could feel his gaze, heavy with concern, but you refused to meet it. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how hurt you were, how badly you wanted him to say something, anything, that would change this.

he sighed quietly, turning back to his worktable. “i just want to make sure it’s perfect for you,” he said softly, his voice gentle but strained. “this is an important day…”

you clenched your jaw, the words digging into your heart like shards of glass. an important day? for who? certainly not for you. he kept talking about the wedding as if it were inevitable, as if you were excited about it, and it made your blood boil.

“what about the waistline?” he asked again, forcing the conversation to continue. “something fitted, or maybe a bit more relaxed?”

“i don’t care,” you replied tersely, your tone sharp. “you’re the expert, right? just do whatever.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sunghoon stood still for a moment, his hands resting on the fabrics, his back to you. you saw the slight slump in his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped the edge of the table just a little too tightly, and for a second, you almost regretted your words.

but the frustration bubbling inside you wouldn’t let up. you had come here hoping, praying, that he would give you a reason to stop the wedding, that he would fight for you. instead, you were sitting here discussing necklines and fabric as if everything was perfectly fine, as if you weren’t on the verge of losing everything.

he turned back around, this time holding a measuring tape. “let’s… start with your measurements,” he said, his voice sounding tired, defeated.

you stood up reluctantly, moving toward him, your movements stiff and reluctant. you stood there in the middle of the room, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest.

sunghoon stepped closer, the tape measure in his hands, and for a moment, you both stood in silence, the tension between you thick and suffocating. his proximity felt overwhelming, but this time, it wasn’t filled with the same spark as before. instead, it was heavy, burdened with all the things you both refused to say.

he hesitated for a second before gently wrapping the tape around your waist. his fingers brushed lightly against your skin, but there was no tenderness in the touch. it was robotic, methodical, like he was forcing himself to distance every part of him from you.

“what about the sleeves?” he asked quietly, trying to fill the silence. “long or short?”

“whatever,” you snapped. “it doesn’t matter. none of this matters.”

sunghoon froze for a moment, his hands stilling against your waist. the silence stretched between you, thick with unresolved tension, before he pulled away, the tape measure slipping from his fingers. he turned to face you, his expression strained, frustration and confusion swirling in his eyes.

“what’s going on with you?” he finally asked, his voice low but firm. “why are you acting like this?”

you stared at him, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and sorrow. his question was the breaking point, the floodgates that had been holding everything back bursting open all at once.

“why am i acting like this?” you repeated, your voice trembling with emotion. “because you’re standing here, pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not!”

sunghoon’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.

“this dress… this wedding… none of it matters to me!” you continued, your voice growing louder with every word. “i don’t want this. i never wanted this. and you know it, sunghoon. you know it better than anyone!”

he opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. the words kept pouring out, all the frustration and pain you had been bottling up for weeks finally spilling over.

“i’ve been waiting for you to say something, to do something—anything—that would make me stop this wedding. but you’ve just been standing there, acting like this is what i want when you know it isn’t!” your voice cracked, your hands trembling at your sides. “why won’t you say anything? why won’t you fight for me?”

sunghoon stared at you, the weight of your words hitting him like a punch to the gut. he looked down, his shoulders sagging as if the burden of everything you had just said was too much to bear.

“i… i thought this was what you wanted,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i thought you deserved someone better than me. someone who could give you everything i can’t.”

you felt your heart clench painfully in your chest, the ache of his words almost unbearable. “that’s not for you to decide!” you shot back, your voice breaking. “you think i care about any of that? i don’t. i never did. the only thing i care about is you.”

the silence that followed was thick with raw emotion. sunghoon stood there, his expression torn, his hands trembling at his sides. he looked like he wanted to say something, like he was finally ready to fight, but the fear in his eyes held him back.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “i’m so sorry.”

the apology shattered whatever was left of your composure. you turned away, not able to stand the sight of him any longer.

“i don’t want to wear a wedding dress if it’s not for you,” you said quietly, tears brimming in your eyes. you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to leave, your heart breaking with every step you took toward the door.

sunghoon didn’t try to stop you. he just stood there, broken, as you walked out of his life.

it was the dead of night, the streets shrouded in silence, broken only by the soft crunch of your hurried footsteps on the cobblestone path. you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. not when you had finally made your decision. with nothing but the small bags clutched in your hands, you walked with purpose, heart pounding as you made your way toward sunghoon’s home.

the weight of the evening air pressed against your skin, thick with the lingering tension that had been suffocating you for days. since that fateful conversation at his workshop, the ache in your chest had only deepened, every moment spent away from him gnawing at you. there was no escaping it. you couldn’t go through with the marriage. not when you knew where your heart truly lay.

the small house loomed ahead, a single dim light flickering from the window, signalling that sunghoon was still awake. your pulse quickened, the gravity of what you were about to do hitting you all at once. you were throwing away everything—your family’s expectations, your arranged marriage, the life you had been destined to live—all for him. and yet, none of it scared you.

because sunghoon was worth it. he was the only thing you wanted.

you reached the door, your breath shallow as you hesitated for a split second, your heart hammering in your chest. then, without another thought, you raised your hand and knocked.

a few moments passed, the silence inside the house dragging on like an eternity before you heard soft footsteps approaching. the door creaked open, revealing sunghoon standing there, his hair tousled, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw you standing there, drenched in moonlight, with your bags in hand.

“y/n?” his voice was laced with confusion, concern flickering across his features as he glanced between you and the bags at your side. “what are you—what’s going on?”

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you stepped forward, crossing the threshold into his home without invitation, leaving him to close the door behind you. the room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows across the familiar space where so much of your time together had unfolded. it felt both comforting and surreal to be here now, on the brink of something monumental.

“i couldn’t do it,” you said at last, your voice barely a whisper but filled with determination. “i couldn’t marry him, sunghoon.”

he stood there, frozen, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean? the wedding—it’s—”

“i don’t want to marry him,” you interrupted, turning to face him fully, your eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made your heart race. “i don’t want any of this. the wedding, the life my parents planned for me—it’s not what i want. it’s never been what i wanted.”

sunghoon’s breath hitched, his confusion deepening, but you could see the glimmer of hope slowly dawning in his eyes. “then… what are you saying?”

you dropped your bags to the floor and stepped closer to him, the raw emotion swirling inside you finally breaking free. “what i’m saying is that i’m here, right now, because i’m choosing you, sunghoon. all i’ve ever wanted is you. i thought—i hoped—you’d feel the same. but you never said anything. and i can’t keep waiting.”

his eyes widened, a storm of emotions flashing across his face. he looked torn between disbelief and longing, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

“i know you think i deserve better,” you continued, your voice growing more urgent, your hands trembling slightly as you reached out to him, “but i don’t care about that. i don’t care about anything except you. all i wanted—all i ever wanted—was for you to tell me you felt the same. to fight for me.”

sunghoon swallowed thickly, his eyes locked on yours, and for the first time since you had shown up, he looked utterly vulnerable. “i do… i do feel the same, y/n. i’ve always felt the same. but i thought—” his voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “i thought you’d be better off without me. i was afraid i’d ruin your life if i held you back from everything you deserve.”

you shook your head fiercely, your heart pounding. “you’re wrong. you never would have ruined anything. the only thing that’s been ruining me is the thought of losing you.”

tears welled up in his eyes, his composure crumbling as the weight of his emotions finally caught up to him. he took a step closer, his hands reaching out to gently cup your face. his touch was warm, familiar, filled with the tenderness that had been missing for so long.

“y/n,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “i don’t deserve you… but i can’t let you go.”

your breath caught in your throat as the distance between you vanished. his hands trembled slightly against your skin, but the intensity in his gaze spoke volumes. you could feel the raw need, the longing that had been suppressed for too long, finally coming to the surface.

“then don’t,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “don’t let me go, sunghoon. i love you. i’ve always loved you. and i’m not going anywhere unless it’s with you.”

the words seemed to unlock something in him. without another second of hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate, passionate kiss that spoke of all the years of pent-up desire and unspoken feelings between you. it was everything you had hoped for, everything you had longed for—pure, unfiltered love.

when he finally pulled away, breathless and trembling, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed, as if savouring the moment.

“run away with me,” you whispered, your hands still tangled in his shirt. “we can leave this place, start a new life. i don’t care where we go as long as i’m with you.”

sunghoon opened his eyes, searching yours for any hint of doubt, but all he saw was determination—love. a soft, disbelieving laugh escaped him, his fingers tracing the lines of your face as if committing them to memory.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice shaking. “are you really sure about this?”

you smiled, leaning into his touch, your heart swelling with the certainty of your decision. “i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

sunghoon closed his eyes again, pulling you into a tight embrace, as if afraid to let go. “i love you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice raw with emotion. “i’ve always loved you.”

tears of relief and joy welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, holding onto him like he was your lifeline. this was what you had been waiting for. this was all you ever needed.

“we’ll leave tonight,” he whispered, his voice resolute. “we’ll start over, just the two of us.”

you nodded, a smile breaking through the tears as you felt the weight of the world lifting from your shoulders. this was your new beginning. your future with sunghoon, the one you had always dreamed of.

and together, you knew you could face whatever came next.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting its pale glow over the winding road that stretched out before you and sunghoon. the cool night air clung to your skin as you both moved in silence, hearts pounding in unison as you left the only life you had ever known behind. with each step, the weight of your decision lifted, replaced by a thrill that sent shivers down your spine.

you glanced over at sunghoon, his face illuminated by the moonlight, a mix of determination and exhilaration playing on his features. his hand gripped yours tightly, as if afraid to let go, as if letting go would mean losing you forever. neither of you had spoken much since leaving his house, but the unspoken understanding between you was stronger than ever.

the path ahead was unknown, but that no longer frightened you. in fact, it excited you.

as you crested the hill that overlooked your town, you both stopped for a moment, turning to take in the view one last time. the place where you had grown up, where your families lived, where your life had been planned out for you—it all felt so distant now, like a world you were no longer part of.

you turned to sunghoon, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite the enormity of what you were doing. “so… where are we going?”

he turned to look at you, his eyes filled with that familiar spark of ambition you had always admired. “there’s a city,” he began, his voice low and steady. “a place i’ve always dreamed of going. it’s known for fashion, for artisans, for people like me who want to make a name for themselves.”

you could see the excitement dancing in his eyes, the dream he had always kept close to his heart. “i’ve heard of it,” you said, your smile growing. “you’re talking about sorina, aren’t you?”

he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. “yes. it’s always been my dream to open my own studio there. to create something that’s entirely mine. but… i never thought i’d actually go. i didn’t think i’d have the chance.”

your heart swelled with pride and affection as you looked at him. “well, now you do,” you said softly. “and you’re not going alone.”

his expression softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you—really looked at you, as if he still couldn’t believe this was happening. then, with a quiet laugh, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “i don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.

you smiled against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. “you’re wrong. you’re everything i deserve.”

with one final glance at the town behind you, the two of you turned and began your journey to sorina, the city of dreams. the road ahead was long, but the promise of a new life with sunghoon made every step feel lighter. the thought of him creating masterpieces, of you being by his side as his muse, filled you with a hope you had never known.

and as the two of you settled into your new life in sorina, that peace only grew. sunghoon’s dreams were coming to life with every stitch, every sketch. he was thriving in a way that you had always known he could, and you were there to see it all. your role as his muse was more than a job or a title—it was the culmination of your deep connection, your bond that had grown through years of friendship and love unspoken.

there were moments when the thought of your parents crossed your mind. the guilt of running away lingered in the back of your heart at times, knowing how much they had hoped for you to marry into the match they had chosen. you wondered if they were angry, disappointed, or hurt by your decision. but as days turned into weeks, those worries faded. you knew your parents—they loved you too much to hold on to their disappointment forever.

"i’m sure they’ll forgive me," you said one evening, resting your head on sunghoon's shoulder as you both watched the busy city streets from your studio. "they’ll come to understand… eventually."

sunghoon looked at you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of doubt. “you really think so?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “i know they will. they’ve always wanted me to be happy. and when they see how happy we are… when they see all you’ve achieved, they’ll realise we made the right choice.”

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek. “i hope so,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with warmth. “i just want you to have everything you deserve. i want them to see that.”

“they will,” you reassured him, your voice soft but firm. “they’ve known you all your life, sunghoon. they know how hard you’ve worked. they’ll see why i chose you. why we chose each other.”

sunghoon’s lips curved into a small smile, one that made your heart flutter. “we’ll make a life together that’s worth showing them. one day, when they see what we’ve built, they’ll understand.”

and deep down, you knew he was right. your parents loved you, and in time, they would see the joy that your life with sunghoon brought you. they would forgive the abrupt departure, the wedding that never was. because while it wasn’t the life they had envisioned for you, it was the one you had always dreamed of.

as sunghoon’s studio grew, and as the two of you thrived in sorina, you no longer felt the weight of your decision. you had chosen love over duty, dreams over expectations. and in the end, you knew it would all work out. one day, when the time was right, you would return to your parents—not as the daughter who had run away, but as the woman who had found her happiness.

for now, though, the life you had built with sunghoon was everything you had ever wanted. the city of fashion, the thriving studio, the man you loved—it was more than enough.

and with every stitch sunghoon sewed, every dress he designed, you were reminded that you had made the right choice. together, you had found your place in the world. and you had no doubt that the people you loved most would come to understand that too.

BONUS SCENE !

in sorina, life had unfolded beautifully, and not just for sunghoon. the city may have been known for fashion, but it was also a hub of opportunity for anyone willing to carve out their own path—and you had done just that.

while sunghoon spent his days sketching and tailoring in his studio, you found your own passion and footing in the city. before long, you’d built something of your own—a modest business in jewellery making, a craft you had dabbled in back home but now took seriously. the bustling markets of sorina were filled with artisans from every walk of life, and soon your intricately designed pieces caught the eye of locals and visitors alike.

at first, it was a hobby. a way to pass the time while sunghoon worked. but it didn’t take long for you to gain recognition. your designs, delicate yet bold, paired perfectly with the high-end garments sunghoon was crafting. your pieces began to complement his work, and you both realised the potential of collaborating together—not just in love but in business.

the two of you often worked late into the night, your small workbench tucked in the corner of his studio. sunghoon would be bent over his latest creation, needles and thread in hand, while you arranged shimmering stones and metals into intricate patterns.

“you know,” sunghoon said one evening, breaking the comfortable silence between you, “we’re going to need a bigger space soon.”

you looked up from your work, raising an eyebrow. “why’s that?”

he smirked, nodding toward the scattered jewellery and sketches of new designs littering the floor. “because you’re taking over my studio, that’s why.”

you chuckled, shaking your head as you placed a bracelet you’d been working on down on the table. “i think we both know you’re the one taking up all the space. these fabrics are everywhere.”

“touché,” he replied with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “but i’m serious. your business is growing. people are asking for your pieces specifically now. you’ve got clients lined up at the door. we can’t keep pretending this is just a side gig.”

you shrugged, but your smile betrayed your pride. “maybe. but it’s not like i’m doing this on my own. you’ve helped me a lot. half of the clients only know about my jewellery because it’s paired with your designs.”

sunghoon shook his head. “no. they come for you. you’ve worked hard to get here. don’t downplay that.”

his words warmed your heart, and you leaned back in your chair, watching him for a moment. “i guess we’ve both come a long way, haven’t we?”

he met your gaze, the familiar spark of affection lighting up his eyes. “more than i ever imagined.”

as the weeks passed, the collaboration between your jewellery and sunghoon’s garments became the talk of the city. nobles and royals who ordered dresses from sunghoon began requesting matching jewellery pieces from you. soon, you were no longer just sunghoon’s muse or his partner—you were an established name in your own right.

at events and gatherings, whispers of “have you seen her designs?” filled the halls, your name mentioned alongside sunghoon’s, but never overshadowed by it. the partnership between the two of you was equal, balanced by your mutual respect and admiration for one another’s talents. while sunghoon’s studio flourished, so did your own reputation. you set up a small stall in the heart of the city, your jewellery catching the sunlight and drawing the attention of passersby. with each new order, you found yourself standing more confidently in this new life you had built.

one evening, as the two of you sat in the now-expanded studio, reviewing orders and discussing the future, sunghoon turned to you, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“so, what’s next for you? you’ve got clients begging for your work, you’re practically a household name now,” he teased, nudging you gently. “maybe it’s time you open your own studio, too?”

you smiled, considering his words. “maybe. i’ve been thinking about it, actually.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “oh? you’ve got plans you’re not telling me?”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, nothing concrete. but i do think it’s time i take things to the next level. i want to expand, maybe hire a few apprentices. i don’t want to just make jewellery—i want to teach others how to do it, too. there’s a lot of talent in this city that deserves to be nurtured.”

he looked at you with such pride in his eyes, it made your heart swell. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

you shrugged, trying to downplay your excitement. “i’m just doing what i love.”

“and you’re damn good at it,” he said firmly. “don’t forget that.”

it wasn’t long before you made that dream a reality. you secured a space in one of the city’s artisan districts, a small but beautiful shop where you could sell your creations and train apprentices in the art of jewellery making. the shop was an extension of yourself—chic, elegant, and full of the creativity that had always been a part of you.

soon, your shop became as well-known as sunghoon’s studio. the two of you were often talked about together, not as a couple who had run away from their old lives, but as two individuals who had built something remarkable side by side.

every piece of jewellery you created had its own story, just as every dress sunghoon designed had its own flair. and while you both supported each other’s work, neither of you relied solely on the other to define your success.

the life you had built together in sorina was not just about love—it was about the dreams you had both nurtured and the independence you cherished. you were more than sunghoon’s muse. you were a creator, a designer, a businesswoman in your own right.

as the sun set over sorina, casting a warm, golden glow across the city, you stood at the threshold of your jewelry shop, taking in the scene before you. the streets were alive with people bustling between vendors, artisans displaying their wares, and musicians playing softly in the distance. your heart swelled with contentment as you looked out over the life you had built, not just for yourself, but alongside sunghoon.

the sound of footsteps broke you from your thoughts, and you turned just in time to see him approaching. his face was illuminated by the setting sun, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he drew closer. even after all this time, your heart still skipped a beat whenever you saw him. there was something about the way he carried himself, the quiet confidence, the kindness in his eyes, that always made you feel safe and cherished.

"busy day?" he asked, his voice low and familiar as he stopped in front of you, his gaze warm.

you nodded, leaning against the doorframe with a soft smile. "busier than usual. i think word is spreading faster than i expected. what about you? how’s the studio?"

he chuckled, glancing back toward his own shop down the street. "same here. we might need to start hiring more help."

you laughed softly, and the two of you stood there for a moment, soaking in the peaceful atmosphere around you. the city was beautiful in the fading light, and for a brief second, everything felt perfect. but then sunghoon shifted slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and you saw something deeper flicker in them—something that had never fully disappeared.

without a word, he reached out, gently brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a little too long. the simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension that had only grown stronger over the months.

“you’ve got a speck of something,” he murmured, his voice softer now, more intimate. “right here.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as his fingers lightly grazed your skin. “thanks,” you whispered, barely able to find your voice.

sunghoon didn’t pull away immediately. instead, he stayed close, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something different in his gaze tonight—something tender, yet intense. and as you looked back at him, you felt the weight of all the moments you’d shared, the quiet yearning that had simmered between you since the day you’d arrived in this city together.

“do you ever think about… everything?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness. he didn’t have to explain further. you both knew exactly what he meant.

you swallowed hard, your heart racing. “i do,” you admitted quietly. “every day.”

his hand slipped down to your waist, tentative at first, as if testing the waters. but when you didn’t pull away, he drew you in closer, until your bodies were nearly touching, the warmth of his chest radiating against yours. you could feel the rise and fall of his breath, and it was intoxicating.

“i never imagined…” sunghoon’s voice was barely a whisper now, his lips close to your ear, sending another wave of shivers down your spine. “that we’d end up here. together.”

you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you took in his scent—so familiar and comforting. “me neither.”

for a long moment, you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of you daring to move or speak. the world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in time.

and then, without warning, sunghoon pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up with his fingers, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“i love you,” he whispered, the words escaping him like they’d been held back for far too long. “i’ve always loved you.”

your heart stopped, the confession hanging in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. you had known it, felt it, but hearing the words out loud still sent a rush of emotion through you.

“i love you too,” you replied softly, the words coming out as naturally as breathing.

sunghoon smiled—a slow, tender smile that reached his eyes. and before you knew it, he was leaning in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly grew more passionate. it was as if all the years of longing, of unspoken feelings and missed opportunities, had finally culminated in this moment.

you melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer. his lips were warm and gentle, yet insistent, and you could feel the depth of his emotions in every touch. the world spun around you, but all you could focus on was him—the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the evening.

“i don’t want to wait anymore,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “we’ve waited long enough.”

you nodded, your heart swelling with a sense of certainty you hadn’t felt in a long time. “neither do i.”

you smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over you. the future felt bright, and for the first time, you could see it clearly—both of you, side by side, not just as lovers but as equals. you were no longer running away from the life you didn’t want. instead, you were running toward the life you had built together, filled with love, passion, and the promise of a beautiful tomorrow.

you weren’t just sunghoon’s muse. you weren’t just a girl who had fallen in love. you were a woman who had taken control of her destiny, and now, with sunghoon by your side, you were ready for whatever the future held.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @punchbug9-blog @firstclassjaylee @capri-cuntz @addictedtohobi @jaysfavoritegirl (the rest will be tagged in the comments since tumblr is acting up again )

the matchmatic 3000 | jake sim

✰ summary: simp, i mean, sim jaeyun is a hopeless romantic. a cursed hopeless romantic, he would say, doomed to exist as just your friend, nothing more. but when his genius (read: nerdy) best friend creates a highly accurate matchmaking app for the university, jake is ready to bribe, beg, and possibly sell his soul to make sure he gets paired with you. plan a? hack the system. plan b? there is no plan b. to jake, being delulu is the solulu, and he's all in.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. bestfriends!jay & heeseung]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | college!au, matchmaking!au, friendstolovers!au, pining, pining, pining heh

✰ contains: honestly, just crack. i had too much fun with the humor in this one i think, whoops! lots of awkward tension, slow burn, pining, more pining, cute kithes (~￣³￣)~, reader is oblivious beyond saving, but no actual warnings other than maybe one or two cuss words i think!

✰ wc: ...19k (i swear this wasn't intentional...once again, i had too much fun) 

✰ a/n: it's finally done! i'm nervvy because i haven't posted a fic in almost three years now,,,but i randomly got inspo one day after seeing a tiktok about a matchmaking questionnare and now here we are! i loved writing these characters, it was so much fun,,,but i also don't know how to feel abt the whole thing so i hope people enjoy this !! :’)) ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Simply put, Jake Sim is a simp. His name should honestly be legally changed from Sim Jae-yun to Simp Jae-yun at this point. 

Jake doesn’t fall often, but when he does, he hits the ground with the force of a malfunctioning rocket ship. Once in the third grade, a girl gave him a Hello Kitty bandage after he face-planted off the playground swings. Cute, right? Well, Jake was so smitten, he spent the next week sliding his prized dino chicken nuggets across the lunch table like they were some ancient currency to win her over.  

Did it work? Sort of. Did she eat all his nuggets without ever looking back? Absolutely.  

But this? With you? This is different.  

Jake would give up more than just his room-temp mystery-meat pterodactyls for you. He thinks he’d willingly cat-sit twelve cats—despite his strong dislike for cats. He thinks he’d voluntarily train for the national triathlon—despite always getting winded walking up the two flights of stairs to get to his apartment. He’d probably let you have the last Supreme pizza slice, which for Jake, is basically like offering you his soul on a silver platter. 

Forget falling—Jake didn’t just trip, no. He plummeted into a cartoon-style pit, the kind covered with leaves spread over the top like some dollar-store disguise. He’s still down there, metaphorically flailing around like a maniac while you’re chilling up above, completely unaware that you Tom & Jerry-ed his heart. 

In hindsight, Jake hopelessly pining for you was about as inevitable as a rom-com misunderstanding. The second his childhood best friend Grace—aka your college best friend and roommate—introduced you guys during freshman year orientation, Jake was hit with the biggest, dumbest case of whiplash known to mankind. 

You were so confident, so outgoing, so unapologetically you. You were like sunshine, and Jake was just there, squinting and hoping he wouldn't spontaneously combust into a thousand ashes from simply staring at you. 

But, as with all classic tropes (and pining fanfics), Jake knows that mixing friend groups and love interests is a recipe for disaster. And not just any disaster—a culinary trainwreck. Worse than whatever recipe the dining hall uses to make their sad excuse for tacos. Like, is it beef? Is it tofu? Who knows, and honestly, I don't think anyone wants to know.  

Anyways, that brings us to today: a couple years later, with Jake still mooning over his friend. His feelings remain the best-kept secret in the history of best-kept secrets—well, if secrets were meant to be as obvious as a neon sign in a blackout. 

In fact, Jake’s attempts at subtlety are about as smooth as a drunk giraffe on roller skates. Whenever you walk into the room, it’s like someone hits the ‘shutdown’ button on his brain. One second, he’s cracking jokes and holding conversations just fine, the next? Boom. Total system failure. You can almost hear the Windows XP error sound the moment you catch him off guard with a smile.

It’s not that Jake can’t talk to you—he’s your friend, after all. But the second he catches your sweet laugh or smile and his feelings come rolling in and the butterflies come out? Well, that’s when words start slipping through his fingers like sand, and his once confident banter turns into a cautious game of verbal Jenga. 

His brilliant solution?

Simple: stick to safe topics and keep it light. Foolproof, right? Well, if your idea of foolproof includes missed opportunities and enough internal cringe to fuel a thousand regret-filled 3am thoughts.

Luckily for him, you’ve gone all these years mistaking his massive, raging, hormonal crush on you as part of his ‘friendly, sweet, soft-spoken boy’ personality. And Jake? He’ll take that over an awkward-confession-which-may-lead-to-a-crash-and-burn-outcome any day. 

Honestly, who wouldn’t? Jake thinks as he glances at you from across the lunch table, currently laughing at one of Jay’s terrible puns. Yep, being friends with you is totally fine… totally fine… totally fine.

Jake’s totally fine.

Jake is totally not one more bad-Jay-pun away from writing tragic love haikus in his Notes app and forming a backstory about his unrequited feelings.

As if right on cue, Jay cracks a banana-physics joke (because, obviously, Jay is an expert in theoretical physics despite never having taken a class), and while everyone else is laughing, Jake’s over here, contemplating the meaning of life:

Her laugh echoes bright, I’m lost, no GPS found, Help, I’m still simping.

Jake stares down at his phone, horrified. Did he seriously just… haiku his feelings? Help. Is this what rock-bottom looks like?

"Alright listen up you peasants," Heeseung clears his throat dramatically as he suddenly approaches the group's lunch table located outside on campus grounds, interrupting Jake's poetic inner melodrama. "Your savior has arrived."  

“This better be good, Hee. The last time you said that, you tried to convince us that you could drink five Red Bulls, pull an all-nighter, and still pass that chem exam,” you smirk questionably. 

Heeseung points at you. “And I did pass.” 

“You got a 61%,” Grace says, not even looking up from her phone. 

“That’s still passing!” Heeseung declares, full of confidence. “Anyway, this time is different. I’ve been working on something life-changing.” 

Jake shoots a glance in your direction before quickly looking away. He wants to say something witty, something that could make you laugh, but his brain is like, nah bro, not today. Instead, he nervously fidgets with the sleeve of his hoodie. Since when was there a hole there?

“Life-changing?” Jay leans back in his chair, arms crossed, wearing his usual smirk. “What, are you finally going to start that YouTube channel where you rank ramen brands?” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes as he takes a seat, “First of all, that channel is coming. But no, this is better. Way better. I’ve created…” 

He pauses for dramatic effect, looking at everyone and drumming his fingers against the table,“…a matchmaking algorithm.” 

You burst out laughing, breaking the silence of the table, “What? Like a dating app?” 

“Is this about to be Tinder, but, like, nerdy?” Grace raises an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. 

“Not quite. It’s a scientific, algorithm-based matching system, designed to pair people based on compatibility and mutual interests. And, lucky for you all, I’m testing it out on campus,” Heeseung grins, completely unbothered. 

Jake’s heart skips a beat. Matchmaking? His mind first immediately goes to you. And then, downright panic. What if this robot thing pairs you with someone else? Oh god, what if it pairs you with, like, Jay, and he has to watch you guys flirt non-stop while he sits in the corner like a sad, dying houseplant? (mental note: water your houseplants when you get back to your dorm, jake!)

“Didn’t you also say it was ‘scientific’ when you ate an entire pack of Mentos and then drank Coke?” Grace’s brows furrow at the boy.

Heeseung scoffs at her dramatically. “That was for science. This is for love.” 

You lean forward into the table, clearly interested.

“So you’re saying this app will scientifically find me a soulmate?” Your eyes light up and Jake’s heart skips a second beat as they happen to make eye contact with him as you say that. Please let that soulmate be me. Please. “What’s the catch? You’re not the type to just… help people find 'love' for free.” 

Heeseung shrugs, pretending to be modest, “Not true! I’m doing this purely out of the goodness of my heart.” 

Jay coughs, "Cap.” 

“Okay, fine,” Heeseung admits, “it’s for a coding competition. The winner gets a year’s worth of free ramen from that noodle place near the dorms.” 

Grace’s jaw drops. “You mean Noodle Nirvana? The one with the spicy miso?” 

“Precisely, the one with the spicy miso," Heeseung nods proudly. 

You let out a giggle, “So you’re telling me, you’ve created a love machine just so you can hoard ramen?” 

“Correction,” Heeseung says, raising a finger, “I’ve created a highly advanced matchmaking algorithm to bring people together and also hoard ramen.” 

“Good enough” you shrug, raising your iced coffee in a mock toast to your nerdy friend. “Sign me up.” 

Oh no. Jake's heart skips a third beat (someone get him an ambulance please). Oh god, you're most definitely going to get matched up with someone else. And if that happens, bye-bye to the 12 black cats he’s already mentally prepared to care for. Bye-bye triathlon training.  

But on the other hand...this could be Jake's golden opportunity—that is if somehow the universe decides to play nice and matches you with him. This could be his chance, his moment, his... immediate descent into chaos. 

"Can your app match me with that cute barista that works at the campus boba shop every Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 12pm to 5pm?" Jay's eyes sparkle with curiosity and excitement.  

Heeseung gives Jay a look that says he’s one step away from calling campus security. "First of all, that’s borderline stalker territory. Second, no. It doesn’t work that way."

"So..there's no way you can influence the results at all? It's purely the robot’s doing?" you cock your head at Heeseung. 

"Again, it's an algorithm! Not a robot," he then shrugs, "and I’m above bribery. Unless, of course, you’ve got a worthy offer."

"ooOoOh, corruption? Me likey," Jay’s eyebrows shoot up in mischief, "I'm in. Where do I sign up?" 

“Already done, my friends. Check your emails," Heeseung pulls out his phone and points at it.  

Jake’s phone buzzes at that moment, and when he opens it, the email is sitting at the top of his inbox. He’s never been more nervous to open an email in his life. Well, except maybe his college acceptance letter. Or his professor’s recent feedback on his History of Modern Warfare essay. 

You tap your screen and start reading the email out loud:

Subject: [IMPORTANT SCHOOL ANNOUNCEMENT]  Hello there awesome students & fellow single-tons, Have you ever looked around campus and thought, ‘Wow, everyone here is either taken, weird, or impossible to talk to?’ Well, I’m here to save you from the trenches of singleness with...*drumroll please*  THE MATCHMATIC 3000  — the university's very own matchmaking algorithm!  How does it work you ask? Simple.  1. Download the app from the link in this email (no, it's not a scam or a virus, I promise).   2. Enter your name and student ID (for verification purposes only – no catfishing allowed!)   3. Answer a bunch of super fun questions that might make you question your life choices but will definitely help MatchMatic 3000 find your perfect match!  Once you’re done, the app will work its algorithmic magic to pair you with someone who’s probably just as confused about life as you are but is at least willing to share similar pizza toppings with you. The results will be sent out after a few days of algorithmic wizardry! Why am I doing this, you ask? Because who doesn’t love a good matchmaking fiasco? It’s like throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks, except instead of pasta, it’s your love life. And hey, if it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll have some hilarious stories to tell your future therapist!  (Please don't bill me for your therapy bill. I'm broke.) It’s scientifically programmed, which means it’s flawless. Trust me, I’m very smart. Sign up now, and may your love life finally flourish. If it doesn’t, well, you can’t say I didn’t try. Questions will be released tomorrow, so sign up today before you catch a serious case of FOMO when all the cool kids start using the app ;) Sincerely, your friendly Campus Cupid,   Lee Heeseung <3  *Disclaimer: The university, nor I, takes no responsibility for any romantic entanglements, awkward encounters, or sudden realizations that you might be better off single. Please use the MatchMatic 3000 responsibly.* 

You look up, trying to hold in your laughter, “Heeseung, what the hell is this?” 

Everyone around the table bursts into muffled giggles as they take in the sight of a 240fps gif of Heeseung’s head superimposed onto a sparkly cupid’s body, dramatically shooting an arrow into the abyss of their screens.

"It's called marketing, Y/N. You wouldn't understand,” Heeseung says unbothered. 

“You really called yourself campus cupid,” Grace manages to get out, laughing so hard she’s practically wheezing.

“I said what I said,” Heeseung replies, puffing out his chest like a self-proclaimed genius. “And it’s true. I am your cupid. My algorithm is perfect. You guys are just haters. Just wait until I go viral and become rich and famous. Jake, you support me, right?"

Jake, who hasn’t uttered a peep in maybe a century, suddenly finds himself put on the spot. Oh no, I’ve been radio silent. They probably think I’m plotting my grand escape or something.

You turn towards Jake, waiting for his response and with a smile on your face, which is enough to send him into a decade long coma he thinks. 

“Uh... yeah, for sure. Whatever it takes for that ramen, right?” he blurts out, awkwardly throwing in a finger gun for good measure.

Nailed it.

"Jakey here is too sweet to disagree with you, Hee, “ you look up at him, flashing him a soft, teasing smile. 

And that’s it. Jake’s soul exits stage left. 

He nearly chokes on his own saliva at the casual way you let the pet name roll off your tongue. It’s as if you’ve just handed him a ticket to a new dimension where 'Jakey' is a thing and he’s suddenly the happiest (and only) person on the planet.

Jakey, you called him Jakey. His mind takes an ad-break as he tries to recover. Is this…flirting? Is this how normal people flirt? Or are you just trying to send him into cardiac arrest for fun?

Either way, Jake’s officially malfunctioning. He deduces you’re just being your typical, outgoing self—completely oblivious to the heart palpitations your simple actions send to Jake’s heart. How can someone be so effortlessly charming yet unaware of the chaotic consequences? 

“Y-Yeah, totally, sorry man,” he croaks out, praying to all higher powers above that this brief interaction is over. Heeseung's love machine may be flawless, but Jake? He’s barely functional.

Jake stares at the floor, trying to process this entire ordeal, as the rest of the table returns to their everyday conversation. This is happening. This is real. He needs to find a way to get matched with you, or else he can kiss Salt and Pepper (two of the twelve cats he’s already mentally named and is now emotionally invested in) goodbye. He glances over at you, who’s already—bless your curiosity—downloading the app. 

Jake gulps. He’s doomed. 

Today's the day. Jake’s internal doomsday. 

Also known as, MatchMatic-3000-launches-it's-questions-day. 

To the group's surprise, Heeseung’s love machine has gone viral across campus—it’s been the buzz of the school since his mass email blast 24 hours ago. 

“Alright gang, let’s see if this app is as magical as Heeseung’s ego claims!” you declare, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you join everyone at the usual lunch table outside.

Jake, sitting beside you, is staring at his phone like it holds the secrets of the universe. 

“I’m just hoping it matches me with someone who understands the sacred bond between a man and his video game console,” he mutters, sneakily glancing at your screen to see if you’re answering questions about your favorite video games. Because obviously, that’s the secret to his heart. 

You’re too engrossed in the questions on your phone to notice his subtle mission.

“Even better,” you say without looking up, “I hope it matches me with someone who’ll actually play video games with me.”

Then, you look up and throw him a quick wink. Casual. Effortless. But to Jake? It’s like being a victim of a hit and run to the heart. 

He’s definitely as red as his Asian Flush after two shots of soju. Maybe three.

Jay suddenly chimes in, “What if the app pairs us with people who have weird hobbies? Like, what if I get matched with someone who collects miniature spoons or lives in a house made entirely of cheese?” 

Grace snickers at the overly dramatic boy. “Jay, I think you’d thrive in a cheese house. You’ve already mastered the art of cheesy puns.”

Jake, still staring at his phone, suddenly gets an epiphany, “Wait, do you think it can match you with someone who’s just as obsessed with obscure internet memes as I am?”

You let out a giggle towards his direction, amused by his question, which makes Jake realize that he said that out loud. Well, if he made you laugh, that's a win in his book.

Heeseung, noticing Jake’s moment of glory, nods. 

“Oh, definitely. You might end up with someone who can appreciate a well-timed ‘Doge’ meme or has a shrine dedicated to Rickrolling."

“These questions are so random! A black cat or a golden retriever? What does that even mean?” you exclaim suddenly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

“Excuse me, it’s all about the science of psychology, Y/N—” Heeseung stabs his fork into his pasta with an almost theatrical flair, “—the algorithm needs to understand your deepest preferences. It’s not about cats or dogs; it’s about what your choices say about your soul.”

Jay, munching on his questionable-looking dining hall taco, grins. “So, basically, the app’s trying to figure out if we’re more ‘moody cat person’ or ‘happy-go-lucky dog lover.’ Got it.”

Jake’s thumb hovers nervously over his screen as he reaches the same question himself. His eyes dart back to your screen but can’t seem to make out what you’ve selected. You’re biting your lip in concentration, and Jake’s brain glitches for a second because, wow, how can someone look so cute answering stupid personality questions?

Heeseung notices Jake’s expression from across the table and leans back in his chair with a knowing smirk. “Jake, you look like you’re solving world hunger over there. What’s the deal? Just pick whatever, man.” 

“I’m—I’m just being thorough, okay? This app’s gonna decide my entire love life. No pressure or anything,” Jake shifts uncomfortably, his face heating up.  

Jay snorts, stuffing yet another taco in his mouth, "Jake’s acting like the app’s about to determine the rest of his life. Just chill, man. You’ll get paired with someone. Even if it’s someone who only eats purple foods or, I don’t know, makes miniatures of their exes.” 

"Y/N's definitely getting paired with someone awesome," Grace teases, nudging you playfully from your other side. "Someone tall, athletic, probably knows how to cook gourmet meals."  

Jake internally winces at the description. Tall? He's definitely 6 feet...on a good day...with the right shoes. Athletic? Jake plays soccer! Well..played. In, like, middle school. Gourmet meals? He considers dino nuggets a gourmet meal so...he's practically a Michelin-star chef.  

You laugh at Grace's comment, shaking your head, "Honestly, I'm just hoping for someone who doesn't ghost me after three texts. Low bar, I know."  

Jake swallows besides you. Three texts. Got it. Don't ghost her, even if you do forget what words are in her presence.  

Suddenly, you look up from your phone and turn to lock eyes with Jake. "What did you put Jake? Black cat or golden retriever?"  

Jake freezes. Oh no, is this a test? This is definitely a test. He panics for a split second while his brain scrambles for the lobe that contains actual, cohesive, vocabulary.

"Uh, golden retriever. Definitely," he blurts out, voice higher than usual. "Golden retrievers are...loyal. And fun. Kinda like...you?" The last part slips out before he can stop himself.  

The table goes silent. Jay chokes on his suspicious taco. Grace's eyebrows shoot up in amusement. Heeseung stares at Jake like he's watching the most entertaining drama unfold right in front of him. 

You blink at Jake, then follow it with a soft giggle. "You're comparing me to a dog now?"  

Jake goes bright red, stammering as he's viciously shaking his head, "No—I mean—not like that! I just meant—"  

But you're still laughing next to him, he can feel your shoulders happily shaking against his, and while he's completely mortified, he can't help but feel the tiniest flicker of hope. At least you're laughing with him, not at him. Right? Right?  

"Did anyone consider the fact that we might get matched up with one another?" Jay changes the topic as he wipes the remaining taco shell crumbs off his mouth.

Jake notices the look of pure horror plastered on both you and Grace's faces.  

"Ew," you pretend to gag, while Grace laughs next to you. "Hard pass. You've got the same level of commitment as a first grader has with finishing their homework, and Heeseung’s definitely gonna end up marrying a computer. Plankton and Karen style. I think I'd rather date a Roomba. And you know I hate Roombas."  

Jake can't help the smile tugging at his lips. He knows you're joking, but hearing you rule out the other two makes him feel just a little better. But then...wait.  

You didn't say anything about Jake. What if you’ve already ruled Jake out, too? Not even a contender against Jay and Heeseung? The panic sets in as he thinks oh god, maybe she sees me like an actual Roomba—just following her around, waiting for crumbs of affection. 

Heeseung feigns hurt by dramatically clutching his heart. "Oh no. I'm so heartbroken," he deadpans.  

"I'd date you, Hee, don't worry," Jay winks, and without missing a beat, Heeseung blows him an exaggerated air kiss. "Thanks, babe." 

Jake, still lost in his thoughts, wonders if he’s been friend-zoned so hard he’s transcended into actual appliance territory, right next to the Roombas.

Everyone's laughing over Heeseung and Jay's antics, while Jake here is spiraling into a full-on existential crisis over accepting his fate as the Roomba of your heart. 

Is this my life now? I'm a...self-cleaning vacuum?

Jake comes to a realization the next morning: he can’t just settle for being the human equivalent of a non-sentient vacuum in your life. He needs to take action—and he needs to do it fast. Especially before the algorithm matches you with some 6-foot-tall, athletic, five-star chef who probably wakes up with flawless skin and has a perfectly curated Spotify playlist.  

Jake’s brain scrambles for ideas, as he stares hopelessly at the blank essay document on his laptop titled: "History of Modern Warfare (with revisions)" His essay can wait. World War II may have been a big deal, but this? This is you. Only the most important thing to walk this earth (in Jake's eyes, at least).  

What would a normal human being do? Grow a pair, march right up to you, and say something charming (probably, Jake wouldn't know). But Jake? Jake knows there’s a higher chance of him learning to speak fluent French in the next 24 hours than actually telling you how he feels.

Because that would require practice—in front of a mirror, at least five times a day, for three days straight. And by then, the matches will already be out, and you'll be swept off your feet by some handsome demigod in human form.  

Jake sighs as he tries to type at least one sentence of his essay, hoping it will distract him from his lingering thoughts of you. Your smile, your laughter, your wink, your voice saying ‘Jakey’... 

“The Battle of Normandy marked a significant turning point…” 

Jake frowns. Turning point. Oh, great. That’s exactly what Jake’s waiting for—a turning point with you. Except his 'battle plan' is to let Heeseung’s love algorithm do the work for him. Yeah, sure. Because nothing says romantic courage like leaving your fate up to a glorified love machine. 

Jake groans at the screen. He tries to type more, but his brain is already spiraling into worst-case scenarios. What if you get matched with someone who can bench-press a refrigerator? Or worse—someone who actually knows how to emotionally open up to you?

Frustrated, Jake slams his laptop shut, earning dirty glares from the students studying quietly around him in the library. His essay is long forgotten at this point. Who cares about The Battle of Normandy when his entire (nonexistent) love life is crumbling right in front of him?  

He pulls at his hair in sheer desperation, searching for answers, any answers, to this disaster. Think, Jake, think! 

Wait. 

That's it.  

Answers. He needs answers! Not the kind that would magically fix his social dysfunction around you. No, not those—that’s way beyond saving.

But your answers. The ones you put into The Matchmatic 3000. If Jake could somehow get a hold of those, he could match his responses to yours perfectly. Then BAM! Instant match. One foot in the door. Then maybe, just maybe, you'd stop seeing him as some automated dust-sucker. 

A smile forms across Jake's face. Pure genius (self-proclaimed, of course).  

Yes, this is the solution to all his problems. Well, except for the crippling anxiety and social awkwardness part. But one thing at a time, right? 

Now he just needs your answers.  

And possibly a therapist.  

“Jake! What's wrong?" Grace appears at Jake's table tucked away in the back of the library, her hair frazzled and disheveled from her sprint across campus as a result of Jake's ‘SOS’ text.

Jake is sitting at the table, hands folded, looking perfectly intact, totally not at all in an ‘SOS’ situation, and has a small smile on his face as he looks up at his best friend. 

“I figured it out!”

"You better tell me you just figured out time travel or the cure for world hunger, because I just full-on sprinted across campus thinking you got your laptop stolen or, heaven forbid, you got your hand trapped in the printer again,” Grace's eyes narrow as she takes a seat across from him. 

"I told you not to mention that again! It was an honest mistake," Jake's eyes widen, afraid people around them heard about Jake's embarrassingly tragic battle with the library’s printer. "But no, it's even better than that. It's kinda...off the books though."

Grace blinks back at him. "How off the books? Like...'help me hide the body' off the books, or 'expose the secret recipe to the dining hall's mysterious tacos' off the books?”

Jake glances around to make sure no one's eavesdropping, then lowers his voice, "More like...'help me get Y/N's answers to the Matchmatic 3000' off the books?"

There's a beat of silence as Grace struggles to process the absurdity of what she just heard.  

“Wait, hold up. You want me to help you cheat the dating app?”

Jake nods fervently, if not a little desperately. 

"It's not cheating! Call it...strategic alignment. I need to make sure I match with her. That's the only way I could ever get a chance, and you're the only one who can help me!"

Grace leans in from across the table, clearly in disbelief, yet amused, "So let me get this straight...you want me to somehow get her answers, so you can change yours to match hers, in hopes that Hee's magical AI or whatever pairs you two together?"

Jake attempts to give her his best 'please help me' puppy eyes, but it's clear he's more of a lost kitten right now.

"And you're asking me to get my hands dirty...why exactly?" She smirks at the fidgety Jake, finding his over-the-top desperation for you both amusing and oddly endearing.

"Uh..because you're my best friend, duh. And also, you're the closest to her—if Jay and Hee found out, they'd never let me live it down! And Jay would probably make a TikTok about it just to watch me die from embarrassment," Jake rambles, hoping he can convince the seemingly unimpressed girl in front of him.

“Uh-huh," Grace raises an eyebrow. "And what’s in it for me? Sure, I'm your best friend, but I'm also her friend and ever-so-loyal roommate. You're asking for a lot here, bud."

Jake looks flustered for a moment, as if he hadn’t really thought about that part. 

“Uh, well, I could—um—maybe buy you coffee for a week? Or, I don’t know, do your physics thesis project you've been avoiding."

Grace pretends to consider his offer for a second, but the second he mentions the ‘physics thesis project’, her decision is instantly made.

"Fine," she sighs, leaning back in her chair. "But just so you know, if this goes sideways, I was never here."

Jake smiles like he just won the lottery. Salt & Pepper, here I come!

"But also…," Grace begins, looking right at Jake, making him squirm. Not in a cute Y/N-noticed-me type of squirm, but the oh-no-I'm-about-to-get-lectured kind. "Take my advice, Jake. Stop being a wuss."

Jake's grin falters at his friend's sudden, but painfully true, words.

Grace leans in, her voice serious, "I mean, you can't just hide behind an app and hope for the best. If you really want a shot with Y/N, you need to actually, I don’t know, tell her your feelings? She's not some untouchable goddess who's going to smite you for shooting their shot." 

Jake winces. "But what if she's not interested? What if I make it weird? What if—"

"Jake," Grace's voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. "You won't know unless you try! And you're a great guy, but how would Y/N know that if you don't open yourself up more? Seriously, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Uh. Spontaneous combustion? If I look her in the eyes for longer than 5 seconds, I just might implode. Or, you know, cease to exist," Jake deadpans, his hands gesturing wildly to emphasize his impending doom.

Grace snorts at her poor, poor friend, clearly amused by his romantic spiral. "Okay, first, no one's ever died from eye contact, buddy. Second, I'm not saying you should storm out there and go ask for her hand in marriage or anything—please, don't do that. I'm just saying, just at least try talking to her more maybe.” Baby steps, Grace thinks, baby steps. 

Jake blinks. She's right. Of course she's right. He can’t let some algorithm control his entire love life, no matter how advanced or magical Heeseung claims it is.

Grace, seeing Jake's gears slowly turning, throws him a lifeline: “Alright, fine. If it makes you feel better, she may or may not have called you cute once. Better?"

Jake freezes. His eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. Cute? You called him cute? All the oxygen leaves his lungs, and he’s pretty sure he’s about to pass out right here in the library. 

"Wait, what?"

"Don’t get too excited," Grace smirks, clearly enjoying watching Jake short-circuit. "She said it in passing. Once."

Jake, now on the verge of a mental breakdown, blurts out, "Like, ‘aw-that-puppy-is-cute’ cute? Or like, ‘he’s-so-cute-I-wanna-kiss-him’ cute? I need specifics, Grace!"

Grace’s grin widens, watching her friend spiral into oblivion. "Jake, you’re overthinking it again. Relax. Just take the win."

"Grace, please, I'm begging you. On a scale from 'puppy' to 'kiss', where do I stand?!" Jake's eyes are practically bugging out of his head at this point. 

Grace rolls her eyes, but her teasing smile doesn't falter. "If you keep freaking out like this, you’re gonna drop down to 'awkward goldfish' cute real quick." 

"I’m doomed,” Jake groans, burying his face in his hands. 

Grace pats his back with mock sympathy. "Yep. But at least she'll think you're cute while doing it."

Jake peeks at her through his fingers. “You think she meant 'kiss' cute?”

"Finish your plan first, lover boy. Then we’ll talk."

Jake can’t help the ridiculous smile growing on his face.

Kiss cute, he decides. It has to be. 

You think if you have to read one more sentence about human anatomy, you might actually cry. You sigh as you close your textbook and push it aside to reside with the unnecessary amount of highlighters scattered on the café table between you and Grace.

"I hate this. I hate the circulatory system. Why do I even need to know what the ‘superior vena cava’ is," you groan as you take a sip of what's left of your watered down iced matcha.

Grace hums in front of you as her eyes continually scan the textbook, desperate to absorb just enough information to survive tomorrow's anatomy quiz.

"Because it keeps you alive, Y/N. Duh," Grace jokes as her eyes stay peeled to her textbook.

"Screw that," you scoff. "I don't need the circulatory system to keep me alive. I just need caffeine and BTS's entire discography pumped through my veins to live."

Grace finally glances up, giving you an amused side-eye at your usual dramatic flair, before she remembers she has an important mission at hand: 

Operation Jake & Y/N. 

Grace slams her textbook closed with a dramatic thud to show she's finished studying (she's not). 

"Sooo...speaking of circulatory systems and...hearts and...stuff—did you ever finish filling out the questions for Hee's love app thingy?"

You, oblivious to the sudden change in topic, shrug as you fish your straw around your plastic cup, hoping to find more drops of watery matcha to savor. 

"Yeah, I finished it the other day. It took me forever though. Like, why does it need to know if I'd rather have a personal trainer who can only teach me interpretive dance versus a personal chef who can only cook cereal? I swear Hee was on some drugs or something while creating those questions."

"Not drugs, probably an unhealthy amount of caffeine and ramen though," Grace snorts, still trying to play it cool.

"Caffeine is a drug, doofus," you say pointedly, right before you get a smack in the forehead by Grace's crumbled up straw wrapper.

"Whatever," Grace laughs. "Hey I'm curious—what did you put for your answers? Wanna compare? See how similar we are?" Grace's leg is bouncing under the table, trying to keep up the ‘smooth’ façade, hoping you won't find her sudden interest weird.

"Sure, why not?" you nonchalantly agree, not thinking twice about the random request.

Grace blinks in surprise. That was...way easier than expected. She was ready to prepare some elaborate excuse, like ‘I need your answers to match you up with my desperate best friend who's head over heels for you!’

Oh wait. That part is real. You get the gist.

"Unless...," you pause suddenly. Uh oh. "Unless you're going to sell my answers to some mad scientist and they try to make an evil clone of me to take over the world and end up framing me and I'll have to clear my name in a dramatic world-televised court trial."

Grace blinks, before rolling her eyes, as her nervous heartbeat returns to a normal rate. 

“You're so goddamn weird sometimes.” 

You beam at your friend, clearly amused at yourself, as you scroll through your answers and send screenshots to Grace without a second thought. "Sent! Oh, and send me yours—I wanna know what you put for 'Stuck in a room with Shrek for 24 hours' versus 'Fight 100 duck-sized horses.'"

“Oh, vibe with Shrek, 100%,” Grace answers without skipping a beat, earning an agreeing high five from you.

Grace is ecstatic. This was so much easier than she thought. Not only does this mean her desperate best friend will finally get his shot with you (which also means she won’t have to hear his dramatic overthinking questions about whether you sharing a sandwich with him was a cosmic sign or just a sandwich), but it also guarantees her a week of free coffee and an A+ in physics for this semester.

She quickly types out a quick message to Jake as you're still distracted by your now near empty matcha cup:

Grace [1:26PM]: "mission accomplished. prepare for epic matchmaking success and a lifetime supply of guilt-free caffeine. for me, ofc"

Grace leans back in satisfaction, practically tasting the sweet (and caffeinated) taste of victory. She's done her end of Mission Impossible, and now it's up to Jake to do...well, whatever Jake does in these situations.

Her phone buzzes with a reply from Jake:

Jake [1:28PM]: THANK YOU!!! also...not a lifetime supply...just a week. don't get it twisted"

"Look, all I'm saying is," you declare, leaning back on the couch, "if all five of us pitch in, we could most definitely rob a bank." 

What had started as a group study session two hours ago in your and Grace's apartment has, as usual, turned into your friend group's typical day of hanging out: wildly imagining scenarios so far removed from reality that there’s absolutely no chance you’d end up in them—but entertaining the idea anyway, because what else are you going to do when you're supposed to be studying?

Grace snickers from beside you, "Yeah, and with your stealth skills, we'd get caught in about three business seconds. You literally screamed when I dropped that piece of paper yesterday."

"It startled me! Gravity's such a scary concept, okay?" You huff, arms crossed. Jake, sitting on your other side, fights back the slight grin growing on his face as he watches you scrunch your face in that way he secretly finds unfairly cute, even if it is over your fear of inanimate objects. So weirdly adorable.

Heeseung, sitting cross-legged on the floor from across the couch, raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, do you even know how banks work?”

“She’s got the spirit. I’d give her a solid 7/10 for enthusiasm. Execution, though? Negative two,” Jay says as crosses his arms with a grin from beside Heeseung. 

You grab and throw a couch pillow at him, which he dodges with ease, sticking out his tongue. Jake instinctively shifts closer to you, to your oblivion, like he’s ready to shield you from any incoming retaliation missiles.

“What, and you’d be the brains of the operation? Mr. ‘I forgot my own phone password for two days?’” You fire back.

Jay shrugs, unfazed, “Hey, no need to bring up the past. We all make mistakes.”

“Yeah,” Jake finally chimes in, hoping you will notice how smooth he sounds, “but not all of us text our own phone ‘Why won’t you let me in?’ while the password is literally ‘1234.’”

Everyone laughs, except Jay, who gasps and points dramatically at Jake, “Betrayal. How dare you?”

“It’s public knowledge, bro. You told everyone,” Jake raises his hands in defense, but his eyes keep flickering back to you, wondering if your sweet laughter is because of him this time. And call him delusional, but he really thinks it is. You throw your head back from laughing so hard, at some point your hand graces Jake’s knee next to yours to stabilize yourself. 

It’s no secret—well, at least not to Grace—that Jake’s newfound confidence around you is all thanks to that one tiny lifeline Grace threw him: you called him cute once. Just once. And now, Jake’s running with it, holding on for dear life, and convincing himself that maybe, just maybe, you think about him the same way he thinks about you. Maybe. 

“I told you all in confidence! That was a moment of weakness!” Jay crosses his arms, looking like a child who just got scolded at. “I trusted you people.”

Grace, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the coffee table, pouts at Jay, “And that, my friend, was your first mistake.” 

“Et tu, Grace?” Jay gasps, clutching his chest like he’s been personally victimized by the betrayal of his closest friends. Well…he was. 

Heeseung, shaking his head, cuts in, “Okay, but if we’re robbing a bank, I’m in charge. I’m the only one here with any common sense.” 

You frown, “What do you mean? I have common sense! I brushed my teeth today and everything!”

Jake watches you with a soft smile, finding even your exaggerated outrage so weirdly adorable.

Grace bursts out laughing, “Y/N, sweetie, that’s basic hygiene, not common sense. But good job. We’re all proud of you.”

Jake, clearly riding his boost of confidence from earning that one (1) laugh from you, decides to add in and nods, looking completely serious, “Honestly, I think we should celebrate that. Maybe get you a gold sticker or something.” 

“You guys are bullies,” you mutter, sinking into the couch, but you're laughing too. Jake tries to hide how melted he feels when you laugh like that—all bright and simply, you.

“It's nothing personal, Y/N,” Heeseung adds, smirking, "but you can't easily get startled by inanimate objects and claim you have common sense."

Jay snickers, pointing at you, “Remember that time you thought the vacuum was attacking you?”

You shoot him a glare, debating on throwing yet another couch pillow at him, “It moved on its own, okay? That’s suspicious.”

"The Roomba was doing its job. You nearly declared war on the thing," Grace, mouth full of popcorn, can't defend you on this one.

Jake, on the other hand, feels compelled to defend you, even if he knows it’s ridiculous. You know, since he could relate to the whole impending-mental-doom-by-a-Roomba thing, "The Roomba was being weird that day.”

Jay side-eyes Jake, “Oh, so now you’re on Team Roomba Conspiracy? That’s rich.”

That is rich, considering Jake nearly signed up for therapy just days ago after having an existential crisis about being recruited to join your arch-nemesis—Roombas. Now here he was, ready to go to battle for your anti-automated-dust-sucker stance.

Jake shrugs, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, suddenly hyper-aware of your attention on him, “I just think we shouldn’t dismiss Y/N’s concerns so quickly.”

You turn to him with the softest smile he's seen in the history of smiles—one that fully knocks the breath right out of him. 

“Aw thank you, Jake! Someone around here finally gets it,” you momentarily rest your head on his shoulder for two fleeting seconds—short enough to show your appreciation but long enough to utterly dismantle the boy’s composure. 

He’s frozen. Brain empty, no thoughts…except for the scent of your shampoo rushing his senses. He’s not sure if he’s about to pass out or propose.

“Simp,” Jay mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Jake to hear. Jake shoots him a warning look, making Jay’s smirk grow wider. 

Grace, still giggling at the memory of you running away from a Roomba, then turns to Heeseung with a curious grin, "Speaking of concerns, how's the app going? When are we gonna find out who's paired with who?"

Heeseung immediately groans, frustratingly running a hand through his hair, "It's...going, alright. Some people are weird, man. I don't even know how to process some of these answers."

"Really? How so?" You perk up at this, interested. 

Heeseung sighs as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, "Okay, look at this—someone put 'ramen' as an answer for what they're looking for in a partner."

Jay snorts, "Sounds like something you’d put, honestly. You should match yourself up with them!"

"And this person," Heeseung continues, scrolling and displaying his phone to the rest of the group, "just answered 'vibes' to every single question. Every. One. What does that even mean?!"

Everyone shrugs around the coffee table in confusion as the exasperated boy dramatically tosses his phone to the side like it personally offended him.

"Anyways. I should be done tonight, so hopefully the matches get released tomorrow," he reveals, to everyone's excitement.

"Ohmygosh, tomorrow?" Grace claps her hands lightly. "I can't wait, I hope I get paired with someone who, like, is secretly Spiderman or something. You know, someone with substance."

"I'm nervous, what if I get a total weirdo?" You mutter, eyes widening at the thought.

Jake thinks to himself: as long as he gets paired with you, he doesn't mind being a total weirdo. He'll be your total weirdo. He'll dye his hair neon rainbow, start collecting Russian nesting dolls, and live in a treehouse if that's what it takes.

"Y/N," Jay speaks up, cocking his head out from the bag of potato chips he's currently annihilating, "if anything, you're gonna be the weird one in whatever relationship you end up in."

You instinctively reach for another pillow to throw at him, but Jake is faster, shielding his arms around you, "Okay, okay, let's be nice. I'm sure Y/N will end up with someone perfectly normal, and anyone who ends up with Y/N will not find her weird at all." 

That's because Jake better be the one that ends up with you. And he definitely doesn't think you're weird. Well maybe a little. In an endearing way.

And hopefully, in your eyes, he's normal. Or not—it's all the same to him, as long as he's the one by your side. 

All the steps are set in stone. Now, he just needs the algorithm to do its thing and simply match you two together—which is bound to happen, given Jake is practically a Y/N 2.0 after copying all your answers. If this doesn't work, then the universe is officially out to get him. 

Yes. Everything will happen according to plan.

It has to.  

Nothing goes according to plan.  

Jake's eyes dart in panic between Grace's look of confusion and your phone screen, currently displaying to the rest of the lunch table your so-called soulmate's name, which, surprise surprise—it's not Jake.

Instead, it reads:  

Match: Park Sunghoon 

You shrug as you glance up from your phone, completely unaware of the Tom and Jerry hole Jake is crawling back down right now, "I think he's that new transfer student. I've seen him around in my psychology class, he's kinda cute!"  

Jake's heart sinks deeper than he thought was humanly possible. Cute? Like 'puppy' cute or 'kiss' cute? Oh god, his worst nightmare is coming true. He's about to be banished back to the sad category of 'automated vacuums' in your heart, left to raise 12 kittens on his own.  

Jay frowns, crossing his arm, "No fair, I haven't gotten my match yet, and Y/N gets the cute new kid? This is rigged."  

Heeseung smirks, leaning back in his chair like some algorithm god, "Patience, child. The results are rolling out throughout the entire day. I added that feature for the 'element of surprise.'" 

Grace, meanwhile, subtly leans towards Jake while everyone else rambles over your match, "Looks like the universe hates you."  

"I can't believe it didn't work. It doesn't make any sense, it has to be broken or something,” Jake says, visibly upset, trying his very best to not dig himself a grave right then and there in the middle of the university's quad.  

Grace shrugs, feeling confusion on behalf of her best friend as well, "At least you can say you tried. Maybe the universe is trying to hint at you to actually talk to her and get into a relationship the normal, organic way."  

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles. But Jake is too perplexed to listen to Grace's—very, very, valid—logic right now. 

Jake's thoughts spiral faster than a malfunctioning Roomba trapped in a corner, repeatedly slamming into the same wall with no hope of escape. Honestly, Jake wishes there was a wall around him right now to repeatedly slam his head into. Maybe that way the delulu in him—the one that convinced him he could hack his way into your heart—can finally escape his brain.  

His brain is short-circuiting in panic, bouncing between the reality of his failure and the absolute tragedy that Sunghoon—the cute transfer student (you probably think he's kiss-cute too) is about to waltz in and steal his entire future. Jake can already picture Sunghoon effortlessly holding all twelve hypothetical kittens, while Jake is left alone with nothing but his shattered dreams. 

Before Jake can imagine another over dramatic scenario in his head of you and Sunghoon that would make him physically rip out his own heart and stomp all over it, Grace's phone suddenly pings.

"You've got to be kidding me."  

Everyone turns to look at her, as Grace glances up from her phone, the look of pure horror on her face.  

Grace slowly turns her phone around for everyone to see, and there, in bold letters, sits:

Match: Park Jongseong  

A beat of silence (or as Grace would call it, moment of silence for the fallen. The fallen being Grace), then... 

“HA!” Jay cackles, pointing at her. “Sucks to be you.” 

"Oh, you think this is funny, Park?" Grace glares at him, and at everyone else for giggling at the absurd match. "I would literally rather match with my chemistry TA who wears socks with sandals."  

Heeseung perks up, clearly overly amused at the match drama ensuing around the table, "Wait, that chem TA's not that bad lowkey..."  

Grace throws him a look, "Hee, this isn't about Steve the TA! This is about my life being ruined in real time!"  

Jake tunes in and scoffs, so shocked at his friend's statement, he forgot the setting they're all in, "Your life being ruined? What about mine?"  

Jake quickly silences himself after he realizes what he just said..and in front of you. 

"What about your life getting ruined, Jake? Did you get your match yet?" You look up at him from across the table, curious who could possibly have Jake in such shambles (Ironic, isn't it?). 

"Err—no, not yet. What I mean is..uhh," Jake stammers, his remaining brain cells (which isn't many at this point) trying to muster up the best lie they could to cover himself. "My life would totally be ruined if Grace and Jay end up together because...uhh..because I'd totally have to third-wheel them all the time!"  

Yes, that's good Jake. Good job, good job.  

You seem to be convinced enough by the excuse, your eyes suddenly widening in fear.

"Oh god, you're so right! This means Jay's gonna be over at our apartment all the time now. He'll probably never leave,” you visibly shudder.

Grace gestures wildly at the entire table in disbelief, "You guys! What in the world makes you think Jay and I are going to end up together just because some love algorithm thinks we're good for each other? No offense, Hee."  

Jay, on the other hand, reclines back in his chair, looking entirely too smug for someone who just got called out as a last-choice match, "Hey, the algorithm knows what's up. Maybe this is fate, Grace. This could be fun." He points between the two of them, as if sealing a deal.  

"Fun?! Wrestling a bear made entirely of thorns sounds more fun," Grace physically recoils, like she just touched something soggy in the sink's drain, her expression sending the whole table into laughter. 

"Honestly, I see it. Can't fight the science," you speak up, throwing a knowing look at Grace before Jay gives you an appreciative high-five from across the table.  

Grace snaps her head towards you and gasps, "Traitor! How dare you—you better sleep with your door locked tonight or I swear—"  

"ALL I'm saying is—" you raise your hands in defense, interjecting before Grace can vow to eliminate you and your future lineage from the face of this planet, "—I think it’s kind of sweet you matched with someone you actually know, you know? I mean, I wish I got paired with a close friend. I’ve always believed in the friend-to-significant-other pipeline." 

Friend to significant other? Jake's internal monologue screeches to a halt. Y/N, I'm right here! I could be the one, not Sunghoon! That could be us!

Then, as if you could read his thoughts, your gaze meets Jake’s for just a beat too long, lingering in that space where words usually get lost. Jake swears your expression softens for half a second before you casually shift your focus back on Grace. His brain is officially overheating. Was that a hint? Was it? 

Oh my god. She’s totally hinting at me.

Or—no, wait. Maybe he's reading into it again. Maybe he's so deep into this 'delulu' life that now every sentence feels like it's tailor-made just for him. 

Yeah, that has to be it. Definitely the latter, right? Right. 

Heeseung perks up from his seat, pointing at Grace, "See? She's right. Trust the science. And the friendship! But mostly the science. Science doesn’t mess up, man. It must've sensed some... undercurrents between you and Jay." 

Grace looks like she’s about to leap across the table and strangle Heeseung with his own hoodie strings, but Jay interrupts with a wide grin. 

"Yeah, undercurrents, Gracey-poo. We’re destined." 

You lose it, breaking into uncontrollable laughter as Grace pretends to dry heave at the sound of the pet name. 

"And just like that," she says, dramatically standing up from her seat, "I think that’s my cue to leave. If I hear Jay call me ‘Gracey-poo’ again, I’m going to bleach my ears." 

The entire table is still laughing while Grace makes her swift escape to her next class. You finally manage to catch your breath, turning to Jake with a small smile (which also casually happens to send his brain into overdrive. No big deal, really). 

"I'm excited to see who you get paired with, Jake! I bet she's amazing."  

Jake feels his heart sink a little, but he forces a casual smile. No one is as amazing as you though (cheesy, but painfully true).

Trying to cover his disappointment, Jake shrugs, "I don’t know... I’m not really that into this whole matchmaking thing anyway." He leans back, feigning nonchalance. "I don’t think I’ll actually do anything with whoever I get matched with." 

Jake can’t tell if the small breath you let out is in relief or if, once again, he’s feeding his delusional part of his brain that’s been working overtime. 

But before he can overthink it, you raise an eyebrow, teasing him, "What? You’re not even curious? What if it’s someone perfect for you?" 

Jake laughs awkwardly, desperately trying to keep his cool. It would be perfect if it was you. But instead, he blurts out, "Yeah, maybe they’ll match me with my future laundry partner. Who knows?" Laundry? Really, Jake? 

"That would be a miracle," Heeseung looks up from his phone, gesturing towards Jake, "this guy never does his laundry."  

Jake shoots him a sharp look, "Not true! I just need...some motivation.." 

"Motivation from your future girlfriend?" Jay chimes in, raising an eyebrow. "That's gotta be a new low, dude."  

You nudge Jake's arm from across the table, grinning, "Hey, maybe the algorithm’s just that good. It knows you need a laundry-loving girlfriend in your life." 

Jake snorts, playing along, but his thoughts are a mess. Laundry-loving girlfriend? Nah, Jake needs you as his girlfriend—no question about it.

As you turn your attention back to your phone, the smile fades from Jake’s face, just for a second. His eyes linger on you longer than he means to, before he leans his head on his hand, pretending to care about whatever random TikTok Heeseung is showing him right now.  

But the video’s a blur. All Jake can focus on is how wrong everything feels. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to be his match. You are his match. He knows it.  

Forget laundry-doing-girlfriends or algorithm-approved pairings. If the app really knew what Jake needed, it would’ve led him straight to you. 

And honestly, Jake’s pretty sure he’s smarter than the sleep-deprived, ramen-fueled algorithm Heeseung cooked up. So yeah, screw the love machine. 

If the app won’t do it for him, then it’s time he takes matters into his own hands. 

(About time.)

“Please please please pleeeeease!” Jake’s trailing behind Heeseung throughout their shared living room like a toddler whose candy got snatched, but way more desperate.

Yeah, uh, this is Jake's idea of taking matters into his own hands.  

This is officially the billionth time Heeseung’s heard this in the past 24 hours. At least this time Jake managed to wait until Heeseung was out of the shower and fully clothed before launching into his regularly programmed meltdown. Progress, right? 

“Jake! You do realize what you’re asking me, right? You sound insane.” Heeseung's patience is thinner than the cup ramen noodles he’s survived on for the past week. He takes a seat on their couch, before pointedly looking at his desperate roommate. “You’re being ridiculously dramatic.” 

Jake scoffs, like the mature adult he is. “YOUR FACE is being ridiculously dramatic.” Yup. Like the mature adult he is.  

Heeseung came out to the living room in hopes of being able to catch up on the latest episode of The Bachelor, but to no avail, as the younger boy was waiting to catch him all day (not that Heeseung was actively avoiding Jake or anything, no definitely not). But instead of screaming at the TV in frustration at the bachelor's terrible decisions, here he was, staring at Jake, silently contemplating how many years in prison throwing him off their apartment's balcony would cost him. 

Three? Maybe four? Would it be worth it? Possibly. 

“All you gotta do,” Jake begins to launch his TED Talk, “is send out a mass email to all your participants and be like, ‘Oh noooo, the AI or robot or magical unicorn or whatever messed up!’ Then you just re-release the answers, but this time, pair me with Y/N, bada-bing bada-boom. Easy peasy.” 

Heeseung stares blankly. Honestly, prison doesn’t sound that bad. 

“First off, it’s not a robot. It’s an algorithm,” Heeseung says for the seventy-millionth time, contemplating launching his side career as a 'broken record'. “Second, if people found out it ‘messed up,’ my reputation would be in shambles. Can you imagine all the couples who met their match, only to find out it was a giant, steaming load of—” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jake waves him off, deploying his best attempt (key word: attempt) at puppy-dog eyes. “But what about my soulmate?” 

Heeseung groans and rubs his temples, “Jake, if she’s really your soulmate, maybe try telling her how you feel like a normal human being instead of begging me to rewrite reality?” 

Jake pauses, then, in true Jake fashion, says: “Yeah, but like...nah.” 

Heeseung looks at Jake, who is now staring at him with the intensity of someone waiting for a miracle, “You really don’t see how unhinged this sounds, do you?” 

Jake blinks. 

“I mean, yeah, but, like, what if it works? I’m just saying, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. Wayne Gretzky said that.” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes so hard he’s pretty sure he saw his past life flash by, “Did Wayne Gretzky also say, ‘Be a total weirdo and bother your friend to break all ethical codes and rig an algorithm because you’re too chicken to tell a girl you like her?’” 

Jake shrugs. “He might’ve. We don’t know his whole catalog of wisdom.” 

“I’m begging you—just talk to her. Or, I dunno, send her a meme on Instagram or something. Do anything other than harass me. Please.” 

Jake's face scrunches up like Heeseung just suggested he swim with sharks. “A meme? Really? Do I look like some kind of loser who communicates through memes? I’ll have you know I’m a very mature adu—” 

SMACK! 

A flying sock lands squarely on Jake’s head. He blinks, confused, as Jay strolls in from his room and plops next to Heeseung, looking way too pleased with himself, “Dude, you’re begging like a guy who just got ghosted by an ATM. Have some dignity.” 

“You’re not helping,” Jake glares, throwing the sock back at Jay. 

Jay, with the wisdom only a seasoned disaster like him can possess, shrugs, “Honestly, Heeseung, just rerun the thing. I’m pretty sure the universe would implode if this dude doesn’t get matched with Y/N. And frankly, I don’t want to deal with that level of cosmic drama.” 

“Jay, not you too,” Heeseung pinches the bridge of his nose as he realizes he needs to find a new spot to watch his show from now on. 

Jay raises his hands in mock surrender, “Hey, man, I’m just looking out for you. If Jake doesn’t get his way, he’ll never shut up. You’re one day away from him showing up at your room's door with a PowerPoint presentation. Think of your sanity. Plus, we all live together which means I have to see the presentation too. Think of my sanity.” 

“PowerPoint, huh? I could probably whip something up. Maybe add some pie charts and bar graphs,” Jake, clearly inspired, mutters to himself.  

Heeseung stares at the ceiling, wondering if this is his villain origin story (it most definitely is). “There’s absolutely no way I’m risking the integrity of my algorithm just because you can’t grow a backbone.”

Jake’s face falls, but Jay’s wheels are already turning on behalf of his friend, Mr. Simp, “Hold up, hold up. Hee, think about it. There’s gotta be something you want. I mean, everyone’s got a price, right?” 

Heeseung raises an eyebrow, still annoyed, yet intrigued. What? A good deal is a good deal.

“And what exactly do you think I want, Jay?” 

Jay flashes a grin that screams mischief. 

“We know you’ve been grinding on this algorithm for weeks, man. Barely sleeping. Barely eating,” Jay narrows his eyes in dramatic fashion, as though he’s about to uncover a deep secret. “You’re like two ramen packets away from full-on malnutrition. Sad really.” 

“Yeah, bro. We care about you. You need... balance. Maybe a reward for all your hard work?” Jake suddenly adds, nodding vigorously, picking up on Jay's scheming. 

Heeseung stares at them blankly, “Are you bribing me with...food?” 

“Not just any food,” Jake adds, gesturing dramatically. “Free food. Unlimited food from anywhere, for a month. On me. You’ll never have to eat those mystery meat tacos from the dining hall ever again.” 

Jay interjects, pointing at Jake, "Hey, I'll have you know, those tacos are actually quite good! You just have to deal with the initial frequent toilet trips when you first try them..." 

Heeseung’s resolve flickers for a moment. His stomach growls at the mere thought of having actual, edible food (for free!) that isn’t microwavable...or whatever they put in those tacos. 

Jake, sensing weakness, presses on, “AND… AND! I’ll do all your laundry. One month. No questions asked. I’ll even iron your shirts.” 

Jay, impressed by Jake's bargaining methods, nods his head along as if to convince the skeptical Heeseung, hoping to save himself from also having to hear Jake's consistent whining around the apartment any longer.  

Heeseung narrows his eyes. “I don’t iron my shirts.” 

“I’ll iron them anyway. Luxury service.” 

A pause. Heeseung’s brain is doing some serious mental gymnastics. On one hand, his precious algorithm. On the other… food that didn’t come from a vending machine and clean clothes that weren’t dug out of his laundry basket which is somewhere in the abyss that is his closet right now. 

Jay nudges him, whispering like he's the devil on Heeseung's left shoulder, “Think about it, man. What’s more important? Some random algorithm, or free pizza from that one place around the corner every day?” 

“I swear, if this comes back to bite me..,” Heeseung sighs, rubbing his temples but already thinking about the mouth-watering cheesy goodness he could be having every day.

“So, you’ll do it?!” Jake’s eyes suddenly light up with hope, reflecting the picture-perfect image of a golden retriever right now. 

“Fine,” Heeseung glares at him, feeling the last of his integrity slip away. “But if anyone asks, you never heard this from me. And I expect my meals hot and my laundry folded.”

Jake gleams and practically starts bouncing off their living room's walls. “Yes! Yes! You won’t regret this! I mean, you probably will, but thank you!” 

Heeseung shakes his head, regretting every life choice that led to this moment. Jay claps him on the back. “See? Was that so hard? Now you can live like a king for a whole month. I’d call that a win.” 

“A king with a crumbling empire,” Heeseung sighs.  

“Y/N, here I come!” Jake’s already halfway out their apartment's front door, with no destination in sight—just overjoyed with excitement that he feels he could run ten laps around campus right now (plot twist: he doesn't—he ends up running down the stairs just to get winded and comes right back up to the apartment). 

As Jake sprints off, Heeseung groans, “I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I?” 

"Nah," Jay shrugs, already opening his phone. "Probably.” 

Heeseung realizes he, indeed, made a terrible mistake when he looks up from his phone at lunch the next day and sees a particular you, storming up to the table.

Once you reach the table, you thrust your phone into his face, the ‘rematch’ email, that Heeseung had sent out only a few minutes ago, on display:  

Subject [SCHOOL ANNOUNCEMENT] : MatchMatic 3000 Oopsie Alert  Hello there, awesome students & fellow singletons,  Sooo...this is awkward. Despite weeks of blood, sweat, and ramen going into the creation of the Matchmatic 3000, it appears that a tiny part of the code had a full-on meltdown 🤖💔  As a result, some of the matches you received earlier this week were... well... not exactly what the love gods (or the code) intended. But hey, don’t panic! Not everyone’s match was wrong, just a small handful (I swear, please don’t come for me!).   I truly apologize for the mix-up, and I’m already back at my desk (and caffeine-mixed-with-ramen-fueled) fixing it.  The correct matches will be sent out ASAP—right after I double, triple, and quadruple check that this algorithm doesn’t throw another tantrum.  Thanks for your patience, and please don’t hunt me down! 🙏 I promise I’ll do better next time... or, at the very least, make sure the matches don’t require emergency therapy sessions.  Your (struggling) Campus Cupid,   Lee Heeseung,   Creator of the Slightly Dysfunctional Love Algorithm™ 💘 

”What happened to ‘Oh, the science is never wrong! I’m very smart, trust me, I’m King Romantic Algorithm!’” You mock in your best Heeseung impression, earning amused looks from everyone around the table—well, everyone except Heeseung. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Heeseung groans, holding up his hands defensively. Heeseung still can’t believe he’s apologizing for absolutely no reason, except for the looming fact that his hopelessly-in-love-with-you roommate is making him. “I swear, it must’ve been all the sleep deprivation. Maybe the algorithm glitched somewhere between my tenth cup of ramen and a power nap.” 

Heeseung shoots a knowing side glance towards Jake without anyone noticing, and Jake looks anywhere but at the older boy, avoiding eye contact at all costs.  

Jay raises an eyebrow as he chews on his sandwich, “Honestly, I’m not mad about it. I was still holding out hope for that cute boba barista.” 

“Excuse me?” Grace smacks Jay’s arm without hesitation from beside him. “What’s wrong with being matched with me?” 

Jay blinks at her in disbelief. 

“You literally said you’d rather wrestle a bear made of thorns than go out with me.” 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t want to go out with me,” Grace mutters, crossing her arms as Jay chuckles and nudges her back. 

“I don’t have time for your boba barista fantasies, Jay,” you grumble, feeling clearly annoyed over the rematch debacle.

Jake, sitting across from you, has been…well characteristically quiet, probably because he’s still trying to figure out how to comfort you without feeling a pang of guilt for being the reason you’re frustrated. But he gives it a shot anyway, turning to you with a cautious, almost-too-casual smile.  

“Are you really that upset over the rematch, Y/N?” His voice gentle, almost laced with concern, you would think. 

You glance up at him, instantly feeling less annoyed…for some reason. Jake’s always had this weird ability to calm you down without even trying. Maybe it was just his soft and steady demeanor that made you feel the need to match his. You take a deep breath, smoothing out the sharp edges of your mood before you speak.  

“It’s not that I was desperate to be with Sunghoon,” you start, your voice softer now. “I don’t know…I guess it was just kinda exciting and meeting someone new is always fun, you know? I think I’ve just been wanting something new or different in my life.”  

You trail off, and when you meet Jake's eyes again, you catch the way he's nodding along, completely absorbed in what you're saying. His attentiveness is cute, it makes something flutter in your chest—an unfamiliar warmth. You, a little curious, let the feeling linger, before quickly brushing it aside. 

But Jake? He feels that warmth too, though for him, it’s coupled with a twinge of jealousy. He's bothered. The thought of you seeking something ‘new’ with someone else twists in his chest, but he hides it with a smile, determined not to let you see how much it bothers him. 

“Well,” Jake begins, voice light but with a subtle undertone of something more you pick up on and you wonder what it is. “Maybe it’s a good thing. The rematch, I mean. It’s like a second chance. Everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe Sunghoon’s secretly a serial heartbreaker…or into collecting voodoo dolls or something.” 

You laugh, his humor breaking through any of your remaining frustration, and you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“You sound awfully optimistic about this,” you tease, trying to figure out if there’s something more to his words. Was there? Probably not, you deduce. Definitely not.  

Jake’s heart stutters, wondering if he's been caught red-handed. He fights the urge to panic and instead flashes you a cheesy grin and that somehow makes your stomach flip, though you can't exactly figure out why. 

“Just saying, it could be a blessing in disguise,” he shrugs, his tone playful but sincere. “Maybe this time, it’ll match you with someone who’s right in front of you.” 

Your breath catches as you take in his words quite literally. He’s just speaking metaphorically, right? But when your eyes meet again, there’s something in the way he looks at you—something that makes your heart skip a beat.  

For a moment, you don't know why, but you feel vulnerable in front of Jake. Jake, of all people. He’s always been sweet, always been there, but right now, the way he’s looking at you feels different. Maybe it's the way he's talking to you like you two are the only people at the table, like everything you're saying is heard and understood, and you feel seen amidst all the chaos. Like he’s seeing you in a way you’ve never quite noticed before. And it sends warmth radiating through you, mixing with the confusion already swirling in your chest. 

You blink and shake your head, you're overthinking. Jake is just being Jake—kind, supportive, and always ready to listen. That's just who he is. That's all.  

So why can you still feel his lingering gaze on you even as the conversation moves on? And why does it make you feel...something? Shy? Nervous? Excited? Maybe all of the above.  

Grace suddenly claps her hands together, breaking you out of your confusion, “Well, I think this whole rematch thing is the universe giving me a shot at a real love story,” she announces dramatically.  

“Right, because nothing says ‘romance’ like a computer’s ruling,” Jay rolls his eyes.  

Grace glares at him, “Maybe it’ll match me with someone who’s not emotionally unavailable for once.” 

You laugh at your friends' banter, but your thoughts are still stuck on Jake's words, and all you can think about is the possibility of getting paired with Jake. You feel a fluttering sensation at that thought, and as if you were afraid he could read your mind, you try to sneak a glance at him, only to catch him looking at you at the exact same moment. His eyes quickly dart away, making the interaction short enough to avoid any awkwardness but still long enough for you to catch the same gentle, almost longing expression, on his soft features.  

Your heart skips. 

Feeling exposed, you clear your throat, trying to break the silent tension you’re sure only you’re feeling. 

“Anyway,” you say, forcing a smile, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.” 

Your friends all nod and murmur in agreement at your statement, but your heart lingers on Jake. You can't help but glance back at him, your mind refusing to shake this unfamiliar feeling of...something—maybe the slightest flicker of hope—that you match with him. 

And maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't mind that at all.  

And for Jake, well, there’s only one version of ‘everything working out at the end,’ and it's simple, really—it's you. And for him, that’s the only ending that matters. 

Maybe Jake bit off a little more than he could chew this time. 

Sure, we’ve established that Jake’s inner simp—Jake Simp—is willing to do just about anything to end up with you. Training for a triathlon? Done. Cat-sitting twelve cats? He’d do it, no questions asked. So, naturally, promising Grace a week’s worth of iced coffee deliveries, finishing her physics poster, funding Heeseung’s meals and doing all his laundry for a month didn’t seem that bad in comparison. 

That was, until now—when he's speed-walking across campus, juggling an iced matcha latte (with two pumps of chai, because of course), a dry-cleaning bag with freshly ironed clothes, and a trifold poster board tucked precariously under his armpit, praying the drink doesn’t melt before he gets it to Grace.

Jake hastily rounds the corner by the library, barely keeping his balance when— 

Smack. 

Jake runs straight into someone, thankfully only sacrificing a few drops of the matcha as he stumbles, trying to keep everything from falling out of his grasp.

"Woah! Easy," an oddly familiar voice says, and when Jake looks up, he's met with your adorably amused expression. Of course it's you.

“Y/N!” Jake nearly chokes on his words, trying to steady himself. “I—uh, didn’t see you there.”

You laugh softly, your eyes flicking over everything in Jake's hold. 

"Is that a...physics project? I thought you took that class last year." 

Jake stalls, trying to recollect himself and somehow explain why he's running around campus with a trifold poster, (at this point, half-melted) iced matcha, and someone's else's dry cleaning, all over trying to end up with you. Because, yeah, there's really no way to explain that. But then...wait.

"I did take it last year," he says, eyebrows raised. "You remember that?"

Now you're the one seemingly flustered, as if you're the one that just ran into their crush, sweating beads over running a million of chores. 

You think your face is as red as a beet right now, well, at least it feels like it. 

"Uh—yeah, I guess I did," you give a sheepish smile, nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and Jake thinks he's about to faint from lightheadedness right then and there.

"Plus, you were always talking about how the professor went on tangents about wormholes...but you would secretly enjoy them because you always swore you could survive getting sucked through one, remember?" 

Jake’s heart skips at the way you're ever so casually recalling these details that even he didn't remember. He doesn't know which one takes the leaderboard, you calling him ‘Jakey’, or this.

"Wow," he breathes, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face. "I didn't think you’d notice all that. I thought I was just rambling half the time and the group would nod along to just be nice."

You shrug, looking up at the boy in front of you while trying to play it off casually, even though your heart feels like it's about to break free from your ribcage. 

"Well, I guess I’ve just always remembered the stuff you talked about. It’s...kind of hard not to when you go on about it with that excited look on your face,” you quickly clamp your mouth and your eyes widen as you realize what you just said out loud. Yup, there goes your heart—broken out of your ribcage, running wild and free.

Jake blinks, mentally putting this interaction at the top of the leaderboard, for sure. 

"Wait, seriously?" Jake's eyes widen as he asks with his voice softer now, as if he's not entirely sure he heard you right. He shifts the matcha latte in his hand, trying to ignore the way his heart just did a little flip at your words.

You're mentally kicking yourself for blurting that out loud, what is going on with you? You swallow hard, feeling trapped in the moment. 

"I mean...yeah," you admit, your voice even quieter now, feeling the gaze of his eyes on you, as you fiddle with the strap of your bag. 

"You get really into the stuff you care about, and it's kind of cute. In, like, a wholesome way," you quickly add, feeling even more heat suddenly rush to your face, "it's just...you know...cute." 

You trail off as you realize you said cute twice but Jake's smile just widens even more at that, and suddenly the mountain of things he's carrying feels a teensy bit lighter. 

"So you think it's cute, huh?" 

Jake feels a newfound confidence, noticing how you're not your typical outspoken self, in fact, you almost look nervous around him. This is his delusion speaking right? Have you always been paying attention to him this way and he's been too blindsided to see it? Regardless, for whatever reason—delusion or not—in this moment, Jake feels a little more out of his comfort zone in front of you. 

"I didn't say that! I said wholesome!" Your eyes dart up to meet his as you protest, but the flustered look on your face betrays you and Jake thinks he could definitely soar to the moon right now.

Jake, still smiling, shifts his weight, and without thinking, takes a small step closer. 

"You totally did," his eyes peer teasingly at you and he doesn't know how he's still breathing, let alone talking, with you looking up at him, like that. "Guess I’ll have to keep talking about stuff I care about, then."

You try to muster something witty back, but the way he’s looking at you—and the way he’s talking to you—is making it so incredibly hard to focus on anything but the fluttering in your chest. 

"Yeah I guess you do," you smile back at him, noticing the lack of space between you two all of the sudden. You've never seen this side of Jake, and you can't help but enjoy it...the banter, the flirty glances, the way he makes you feel—

You clear your throat, snapping yourself back into reality, "So..what is with the project poster and…dry-cleaning?" Your eyes go back to everything he's juggling to avoid further eye contact, grateful for the distraction to give you a chance to catch your breath and regain your composure.

"Oh, this? You know, just doing my daily round of favors for Grace, Heeseung, and the rest of the world apparently," Jake chuckles, more so to himself, at how ridiculous of a situation he really did get himself in. 

You smile, your heart warming at the thought. Jake's always been this way—kind, thoughtful, always helping the people he cares about. Well…in reality, he technically is doing this for someone he cares about…you. 

"Damn, guess I should ask for the same treatment then, huh?" You tilt your head, lips quirking into a grin, eyes lit up.

Typically, that look on your face would have Jake in absolute shambles and he'd probably want to curl up into a turtle shell for life. But whatever cosmic forces that orchestrated this recent shift between you two had given him a much-needed confidence boost.

"I mean, I'd totally do that for you, if that's what you're asking," he leans in with another playful smirk on his face, "anytime."  

Your breath catches, the butterflies in your stomach fighting to escape. 

"Oh? Even if it means running across campus with an iced latte in one hand and my dirty laundry in the other?"  

“For you? Yeah. No problem.” 

For a second, you don’t respond, just watching him with a curious, unreadable expression that always drives him crazy. Now, Jake feels like he might actually pass out from how intensely you’re looking at him. 

Finally, you smile. “I'll hold you to that, Jakey.” 

Jake freezes. It's like you know exactly what that name does to him. 

You giggle, clearly amused at the way he stumbles over a reaction and quickly add, "Anyway, I'll leave you to it! Grace is gonna kill you for bringing over a watered-down matcha. But I'll see you later tonight for movie night, right?"  

Jake suddenly remembers the long-awaited (it was planned one day ago) movie night the group set for tonight, and he gets excited at the idea of seeing you again in just a few hours. 

"Definitely, I'll save you a seat?" 

"Mmm," you nod as you start walking away slowly, still facing him, basking in the way he's watching you. "See you later, Jakey!" 

You finally turn and stroll away, thankful your back is to him now so he can't see how your smile is growing wider than you thought was possible.  

On the other hand, Jake blinks, eyes on you as you walk away, still trying to process what just happened. Confidence or not, you always have the last word. But that doesn’t matter. 

One thing is for sure—Jake Simp is in full throttle, and he’d happily run across campus a hundred times, coffee and laundry in hand, if it means hearing you say his name like that again. 

Not that Jake’s been counting down the hours until movie night or anything—no, definitely not—but it’s been approximately five hours since he ran into you, and—if he’s being honest—about four and a half of those hours were spent thinking about how he’ll be seeing you again. The other 30 minutes? Well, they were spent explaining to Grace why her matcha was delivered watered down, which was a scolding he’d rather forget about. 

Needless to say, he's even more excited than usual to see you tonight, for no particular reason. But after your last interaction, Jake feels closer to you than ever before. There’s a tiny flicker of hope, but he keeps reminding himself not to get ahead of himself. After all, he’s only recently mastered the art of saying more than one sentence to you without hyperventilating. Baby steps. 

Jake’s eyes scan the coffee table of the living room, mentally checking off all the important snacks (important as in your favorite ones, of course).  

"What vibe are we going for tonight?" Heeseung calls out from the couch, as he flips through the Netflix homepage on their TV. "Horror or coming-of-age rom-com?" 

Jake grimaces, "Please, no horror. I’m still having nightmares from the last movie night." He shudders at the memory. 

"Dude," Jay strolls into the room, chuckling, "Coraline is a kids movie!" 

"A scary kids movie! That thing should be rated at least PG-13!" Jake protests, while still scanning the room to ensure everything’s perfectly set up. Snacks, check. Drinks, check. Your favorite blanket neatly folded on the seat he’s reserved for you? Check. 

As if right on cue, a knock sounds at the door, and Jay casually starts, "I got it!"—but because Jake's Spidey senses (aka Y/N-senses) are sure it's you at the door, he's already sprinting and launches to the door, parkour style, slightly nudging Jay out the way and making it to the door before him—all in a second's time. 

"It’s okay! I got it!" Jake blurts, a bit too breathlessly, leaving Jay with a mixed look of disbelief that quickly morphs into amused pity. 

"Oookayyy," Jay drawls, turning to Heeseung with a knowing look, clearly entertained by their roommate. "He’s officially lost it." 

Jake takes a breath and quickly runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to not look disheveled, before pulling open the door. 

"Y/N. Hi." 

"Jake. Hi," you smile up at him, dressed in what you would call your "comfy movie night outfit"—but what Jake would call Met Gala worthy. He's pretty sure you could wear a paper bag and it'd be Met Gala worthy. 

For a split second, Jake’s brain malfunctions as he stalls at the door. The moment he’s been daydreaming about in his head for the last five hours is happening, but now that it’s here, he has zero idea what to do. Think, Jake, think! 

"Congrats, you’re the first one here!" he blurts, mentally face-palming as soon as the words leave his mouth. 

You giggle as you step inside, "Well, that would make sense, since you guys live here, and Grace is always late to everything. But thanks, Jakey, I’ll take it." 

You turn to grin at the boy once more, and he's officially a goner. RIP.  

"Oh—right," Jake stifles a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, shooting Jay and Heeseung a death glare as they're both silently roasting him with their eyes.  

"Hi boys," you greet the others as you step into the living room, eyes immediately going to the table lined with snacks. "Wow, you guys really went all out!" 

"Hiii Y/N," Heeseung and Jay say in perfect unison. You give them a raised brow, but shrug it off, too used to their weird behavior to question it. 

"Sooo, which seat is mine?" You excitedly turn back to Jake, scanning the available spots.  

"That one! Best seat in the house, guaranteed,” Jake practically beams, heart pitter-pattering as he's pointing to the cushion right next to his favorite spot. 

"Oh really? What makes it the best?" you ask, plopping down and curling up instantly into the cushion, which makes Jake wonder how much more his heart can truly take before it spontaneously implodes on itself. 

“It comes with your favorite blanket and easy access to the snacks. All your favorites, by the way," Jake slides into the seat beside you, keeping his voice cool.  

He’s very proud of himself for that one. After all, he did scour three different stores near campus for watermelon Sour Patch and strawberry Pocky. 

Jay butts in, grinning like the devil himself, "And the fact that you’re sitting next to Jake makes it extra special, right, Jakey?"

"Oh? Is that so?" You tilt your head, feigning innocence, although you've always known that the middle seat cushion has always been Jake's sacred seat on movie nights. 

"He’s...joking. I can sit anywhere! I just, uh... think this seat happens to have the best angle of the TV." Jake’s heart is definitely about to combust. 

Smooth, Jake. Real smooth. 

You smile and place a hand on Jake’s knee, patting it lightly, "I trust you, Jake. I’m already enjoying this seat more than you know." 

Jake swallows thickly, his body going rigid under your warm hand briefly against his skin. He thinks if he tries to say anything else, it'll come out sounding like a goose giving birth to fifty eggs. 

From Jake’s other side, Heeseung chimes in, obliviously saving his hopeless roommate, "So, Y/N—horror or rom-com tonight?"

"Horror!" you gasp excitedly, eyes widening immediately, "I need those jump scares to make me feel something, you know?" 

Jay breaks out in a coughing fit, nearly choking on his sudden laughter, while Jake shoots him yet another death glare.  

“Y/N, I completely agree with you! Any objections anyone?” Jay announces almost animatedly, leaving you slightly confused but, once again, unfazed by your friend’s weirdness. 

"Nope, none from me. Jake?" Heeseung raises a brow, also trying not to laugh himself. 

Jake looks at you, seeing how excited you are, and yep—he’s screwed. More nightmares for him, it seems. 

"Nope! I’m...totally down for horror." 

You lightly clap your hands in excitement, making Jake realize that, yeah, the nightmares are probably worth it if it means seeing you this happy. 

As you reach over for a snack, Jay mouths the word "SIMP" at Jake. Jake responds with an eye roll, but yeah, Jay’s not wrong. 

~~~ 

The movie is only 20 minutes in when you frown looking at the coffee table, “How is it possible we’re out of snacks already?”  

“I blame Grace for showing up late. I got hungry, okay?” Jay says, pointing at her. Grace responds by smacking the back of his head. “Ouch.” 

Heeseung pauses the movie. “Vending machine run, anyone?” 

“Jake and Y/N, go! Perfect candidates,” Jay suggests without skipping a beat, rubbing the back of his head from the provoked attack.  

You raise an eyebrow at Jake, feeling your heart race a little faster. You're trying to play it cool but the thought of having a moment alone with him sends a buzz through you. It's the kind of opportunity you didn't realize you were hoping for—wait, were you? You have no idea. But what you do know is that being around Jake has felt different lately, in a good way. There's something about his presence that makes you want to be near him more and more. It's confusing, whatever this is, but all you can admit to yourself right now is, feelings or not, you want this time with him.  

Jake opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t manage to get anything out before you quickly grab his hand and pull him toward the door. 

“Okay! Be back in a few!” you call back to the group, trying to sound casual. 

Inside, you’re freaking out just a little. Or a lot. Definitely a lot. The feeling of his hand in yours is warm, almost comforting, but there’s...something that you swear is there. It just feels right.  

Jake follows behind you down the hall, and you can feel the warmth of his hand lingering even as you let go. You sneak a glance at him, and for some reason, he just seems... different. You've always found Jake cute. That's not news. But this—this is different, this isn't your typical ‘oh he's cute’ feeling...but you can't pinpoint what it is either. You shake the thought off.  

"Soo…" you start, looking up at him from the corner of your eye. Your heart pounds a little louder, and you hope he can’t hear it over the sound of your sneakers hitting the hallway tiles. He’s just so cute standing there, slightly awkward, but making it work. How can someone look this adorable just existing? 

“Sorry for dragging you out like that. I hope you don't mind,” you finally say as you both step into the elevator. You try to sound casual, but the slight bubble in your throat betrays you.  

“Oh—no, not at all. I totally wanted to...go with you...” Jake says, and then he quickly adds, “I mean, you're practically saving me from all the jump scares.” 

You laugh softly after a beat of silence, raising an eyebrow as the elevator doors open. “I thought you said you didn’t mind horror movies?” 

“Well,” Jake hesitates, but then says quietly, “how could I say no when you were that excited to watch one?” 

You blink, feeling your breath catch for a second. Did he just—? You look up at him, searching his expression, but all you see is that sweet smile of his, and your mind goes a little fuzzy, trying to piece together what that meant. 

You roll the thought around for a second before giving him a playful nudge. 

“Wow, who knew Jake Sim was such a people pleaser?” You’re teasing, but there’s an unfamiliar giddiness in your chest when he simply grins at you in response.  

As you step into the vending machine room, a soft hum fills the space. You glance at Jake again—he's studying the snack options with a small, focused frown, and you can’t help but smile. Why is everything he does so...frustratedly cute? 

Eventually, he sighs, giving up on his snack mission, and leans casually against the machine. Meanwhile, you're slightly bent down, continuing to mentally analyze the shelves, but you're hyper-aware of the fact that his eyes are definitely on you. And because you can feel the heat from his gaze, you swear you're turning ten shades redder by the second.  

“Are you gonna help me pick out snacks, or are you just gonna keep staring at me like that?” you ask, trying to sound casual, even though your brain's in overdrive. Your eyes stay glued to the snack shelves, anything to avoid the tension of locking eyes with him right now. 

“Hmmm,” you can hear the teasing smirk in his voice, and it sends a spark through you. “Nah, you can handle the snacks. I’m perfectly okay where I am.” 

You roll your eyes playfully, but your pulse quickens. Punching in the numbers for a random snack, you slide a dollar into the machine, stalling a little before you finally stand up and look up at him. “Oh, are you?” 

You don’t expect him to be this close when you're fully standing up. The space between you shrinks, and suddenly, you can almost feel his breath on your skin. Your pulse thumps loudly in your ears as you try your best to swallow the lump in your throat.  

“Still perfectly okay?” The words come out softer than you intended, almost a whisper. You’re holding his gaze now, neither of you wanting to break it. You swear you could probably hear a pin drop if it wasn't for your loud heartbeat right now.  

Jake swallows, and for a split second, you see him hesitate. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and that simple, unintentional move makes your breath hitch. You could lean in right now—close the gap between you—and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. Maybe you're hoping he's thinking the same thing. 

But then Jake chuckles, breaking the silence with his soft laugh that makes your stomach flip for maybe the hundredth time tonight. 

“I, uh… yeah, I’m still okay,” he says, though his voice exposes just how not okay he actually is. You see the faintest blush creeping up his neck, and it’s endearing—so much so that you almost forget you were nervous too.  

You swear you can sense him shuffle just a little bit closer and you're subconsciously wanting to lean into the feeling... 

Plop! 

The sound of the bag of chips landing at the bottom of the machine breaks whatever moment you thought was forming between you two.  

You blink. Jake blinks. 

For a split second, the two of you just stare at each other, wide-eyed, before Jake is the first to snap out of it. His hand quickly goes to rake through his hair, his eyes darting anywhere but yours, and the flush on his cheeks is unmistakable. It almost matches the heat you feel creeping up your own face. 

You can’t tell if you’re more relieved or disappointed that the moment broke so abruptly. You can't tell anything at this point, if you're being honest.  

“Uh—um,” you clear your throat, reaching for the snack like it’s the most important thing in the world. “I hope you like sour cream and onion chips!” 

You hold up the bag with a nervous laugh, trying to shake off the tension in the air. Jake just gives you this soft, searching smile, like he's trying to figure out what just happened—or maybe he's wondering if you felt it too. 

The way his eyes are so gentle, so open, makes your stomach flutter, and because you think you might actually crumble if he keeps looking at you like that for a second longer, you break eye contact to immediately turn back to the vending machine, hoping the heat in your face isn’t as obvious as it feels. 

“What other snacks do you think they’d like?” you hum, trying to sound casual, but inside you’re mentally screaming at yourself for not just going for it earlier. Great going, Y/N. 

From the corner of your eye, you catch Jake letting out a small exhale before he chuckles softly. 

“Honestly, as long as it has sugar, I think everyone will be happy,” he says, and you instantly feel yourself relax, his lightheartedness simmering the tension a bit.

"Hmmm... sour cream and onion and sugar. Got it," you punch in a few more random numbers into the machine, feeding it your remaining cash. "Looks like we’ve hit all the major food groups for today. Nutritionists everywhere will be so proud." 

The air between you both feels a lot lighter now, but there’s still a lingering warmth under your skin—a little too flustered to fully shake it off. You wonder if Jake is feeling the same, but if he is, he seems to be handling it way better than you are. Of course he would be. Cool, calm, collected Jake. (Also ironic, isn't it?)  

"Honestly, we should just unplug the machine and rob the whole thing," Jake playfully adds as you grab the last snack from the bottom slot. "You already know Jay’s gonna inhale all of these the second we walk back in." 

"You’re so right. I say next time, Operation 'Y/N and Jake versus the vending machine' needs to happen,” you laugh, feeling a little more like yourself again. 

"Oh, so what I'm hearing is there’s gonna be a next time?" Jake raises an eyebrow as the two of you start heading back to the elevator. "Count me in." 

You instinctively roll your eyes at how annoyingly smooth he was being, but you can't help the giddy smile growing on your face as a result of his words. As you two stand side by side to each other in the elevator, there's a new quiet that's settled and it's...nice. It's not awkward, just...heavier than before. As if there's a shared secret between you—something you both know but aren't ready to speak aloud just yet. But it's there—just for the two of you to mutually share in comfortable silence.  

Before you reach the apartment, you feel a light tug on your sleeve, and you stop. Looking up, you see Jake holding onto the corner of your sleeve, his expression...soft. Like, too soft. And for a moment, you swear time just stops. If he was on a mission to officially kill you, he can officially say mission accomplished.  

"Y/N, I—" he hesitates, his voice quieter again, like he's about to say something serious, and your heart picks up speed again. But then he stops himself, his grip loosening.  

You blink up at him, wanting him to continue so bad, but also unsure if you're ready of what might come next. 

"Mmm?" you hum, almost afraid to say anything louder. 

Jake bites the inside of his cheek, looking like he’s at war with himself. He finally lets go of your sleeve and gives you a small smile. 

"Sorry, it’s...nothing. Just... you look really nice tonight." 

The sudden, sincere comment catches you off guard, and you feel that familiar warmth rush to your face once again.  

"Oh," you manage to squeak out, because apparently, that's all you're capable of in the moment as your heart is spiraling. "Thanks, Jakey."  

You smile and look down at where his hand just was on your sleeve, and you almost want to reach out and grab his hand again, just to see if it'll feel as warm as it did earlier. Why do you want to reach out so bad?  

Jake's eyes flicker to yours, and for a split second, you swear there's a flicker of something in his eyes—something vulnerable—but then, just as quickly, his gaze shifts to the apartment door behind you, and he clears his throat.  

"Yeah," he says almost breathlessly. "Sorry, we should...probably go in. They probably think we got lost or something at this point."  

You finally let out a breath and snap yourself back in reality from staring at him. 

"Right, yeah. Wouldn’t want them sending a search party," you joke, though your brain’s still fuzzy from the million thoughts and feelings swirling around. 

As Jake unlocks the door, you can’t help but wonder if whatever just happened between you two was all in your head. But it can’t be, right? That feeling had to be real... Right? 

You step inside, and your friends’ commentary barely registers. It’s all background noise compared to the whirlpool of emotions screaming inside you. You sit back down on the couch, and so does Jake, in his seat next to yours.  

And while the movie plays for the rest of the night, you can't seem to focus on anything but the memory of everything that's happened tonight. That and the feeling of Jake’s arm resting right up against yours.  

You’re doomed. 

Jake has never been more confused in his entire life, like, ever. The past few days for him have been more confusing than that one semester he took Postmodern Interpretations of the Emoji Language and actually had to write a ten-page paper on the laughing emoji (don't judge, he had to fulfill his last two elective credits somehow).  

Life has been an absolute whirlwind for Jake—mainly due to the fact that his emotions have been spinning out of control. And to top it off, today’s the long-awaited rematch day.  

Normally, Jake would be a complete wreck by now, bouncing his leg under the table or fidgeting with his phone, but today? Today, he's nervous in a completely different way. The kind of nerves you get when you already know what's about to happen… but after everything that’s gone down lately, he thinks there’s something more between the two of you. And it has nothing to do with Heeseung’s so-called love algorithm. 

At least, he hopes there’s something between you two. Unless—oh god—he’s been totally delusional this whole time, and you’ve just been nice, and Jake’s fully lost it. Perfect, that’s exactly what he needs right now, on top of everything else. But the scariest part? In just a few moments, when the app refreshes and pairs you two together, Jake's going to have to face whatever's been simmering between you both—whether he's ready for it or not.  

And as if Heeseung could read his trembling thoughts, he breaks the silence at the lunch table, "Are you guys ready?"  

Grace and Jay's heads are nodding so fast for Heeseung to just push the 'send' button already, Jake thinks they look like bobbleheads. But when he glances over at you, you don't seem nearly as eager. Which is...weird. Considering how only a couple days ago, you were fired up about the rematch. But now? You look almost...conflicted?  

Jake's eyes linger on you for a second longer, taking in the way you're biting your lip, clearly deep in your thoughts. He can't help but find the sight of you zoned out like that so ridiculously adorable.  

"Y/N?" He nudges you gently. "You good?"  

"Huh?" You blink, snapping out of your daydream. "Oh, yeah. Sorry, Just...thinking, I guess."  

"You'll be fine, Y/N!" Grace chimes in, ever the optimist. "I bet you're gonna love whoever your match is!"  

Well, gee, Jake really, really, hopes so. If not, the last few days will have been a very confusing rollercoaster of emotional whiplash. 

"Right," Jake agrees, trying to act normal, though his voice sounds a little too tight. "Everything's going to be fine." Please, please let everything be fine.  

Jake can tell you're hesitant about something—you open your mouth like you want to say something, but then just as quickly, you press your lips closed again. If Jake didn't think you were the most precious being in the world, you could say you look like a fish out of water right now.

"Hypothetically speaking," you slowly speak up, eyes flicking up to your friends. "What would you do if...let's say you started catching feelings for someone...but then the app might pair you with someone else?" You pause, swallowing hard. 

"Hypothetically…of course.”

Grace raises an eyebrow. Heeseung freezes mid-bite. And Jake? Well, let's just say his heart is already running a mile into the marathon. Hypothetical? Feelings? That has to be about him, right? What were the chances?  

Jay lets out a snort. "Lucky for you, in a hypothetical situation, you do absolutely nothing. Cause it's...you know, hypothetical."  

"Yeah, you're right. Forget I said anything." You wave your hand, brushing it off, but Jake notices a blush growing across your face. "Okay, Hee! Let's get this over with."  

Jake's mind is spinning. What could you have possibly meant by that? That had to be about him...right? Because that is all he's ever wanted, all he's been pining for. But at the same time...it's too good to be true, so Jake refuses to believe it. He can't get his hopes up—not yet.

"Okayyyy," Heeseung's still lifting an eyebrow at your odd behavior before he clears his throat, “everyone ready?”  

Jay and Grace drum the table in anticipation, and Jake? Jake's pretty sure he's going to throw up. 

Heeseung taps his screen, and the table collectively holds its breath. Then, all at once, everyone’s phones light up. 

Grace and Jay scramble to grab their phones first and Jake thinks he's actually developing an incurable case of heart failure.  

“WHAT?” Grace shrieks before she whips around to Jay with wide eyes. “I got you, AGAIN!”  

Jay, unbothered, raises his hands defensively, “What can I say? It’s science, Gracey-poo.”  

"Sure. Science," Grace rolls her eyes so hard it's a wonder they don't get stuck. "Like how you scientifically forgot how to text me back after last night's study sesh?"  

Before Grace can verbally throttle Jay, Jake's entire focus narrows in on you, and how your phone is still face down on the table. You haven't even touched it.

The suspense is killing him, especially knowing his name is going to be on your screen. And if it's not? Well, then the end. End of fanfic. Cue the end credits.  

You, on the other hand, are staring intently at the Grace v. Jay debacle, as if focusing hard enough on other people's life issues will prevent the existential crisis you're about to have. Honestly, your phone could've exploded into a million pieces next to you and you'd still be pretending to care more about anything else.  

Because honestly? You couldn't care less about whoever Heeseung's magical powers paired you with—you're more focused on whatever's been going on between you and Jake. Or at least, you hope, there’s something happening between you and Jake. Unless, oh god, he's just being nice, and you've fully lost it. Please, please don't tell me I've lost it.  

"Y/N! Jake! Who did you guys get?" Grace turns towards the two of you, breaking the both of you out of your respective spirals. 

"Right, yeah. Um—okay. Let's see,” you let out a shaky laugh as your hands fidget in your lap before they finally reach for your phone, as Jake does the same next to you.  

You take a breath, click on the daunting email notification on your screen, and finally look down.  

You blink down at your phone. You squeeze your eyes to make sure they’re not deceiving you.  

Match: Sim Jae-yun  

Your brain is absolutely jumbled beyond saving, you seem to have forgotten how to breathe, and your stomach feels like it was just turned inside out. You don’t know what’s happening, is this what dying feels like?

You blink once. Twice. And maybe a third time just to make extra, extra sure.  

Suddenly, the whole room seems to slow down, like you're watching a replay of your life recently at 0.5 speed. All the moments between you and Jake flash by: the vending machine run, the shared glances, the oddly adorable way he got flustered over you calling him 'Jakey.' But you don't have time to fully process everything because the fact is:  

You’ve just been matched with Jake. Jake.  

You finally look up, heart racing, and try to see if Jake's opened his notification yet, but his face is still too normal at whatever he's looking at on his phone. Or, more accurately, he's pretending to be normal, because the tips of his ears are a little too red for someone who's ‘chill’ (he's most definitely not chill, right now).  

"So, uh..." Jake's voice finally comes out quiet, his gaze slowly meeting yours, and it makes you feel like you two are the only ones at this table. Scratch that, in this world. "Did you open yours?"

"Yeah,” you nod, trying to act nonchalant, “I did.”

Jake lets out a soft chuckle, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

"Same here."

The way he says it—soft, like he’s addressing the shared secret between the two of you—makes the air feel warmer. Or maybe it’s just you overheating. Get it together, Y/N.

Grace, across the table, catches the tension happening in front of her, her eyes darting back and forth like she's watching a slow motion scene of a k-drama unfold in real time. Then—

“Oh my god,” she gasps loudly, before violently clapping a hand over her mouth. 

Her eyes fill with excitement and just as quickly, she jumps up, grabbing both Jay and Heeseung by the back of their shirts and yanking them to their feet. 

“We’re getting boba! Be right back!”  

Heeseung’s brows scrunch. “Wait, what? I don’t even wan—“  

“Too bad! We’re going.”  

And just like that, you’re left alone with Jake next to you—and his flaming red ears that could probably power a small country. 

“So…” Jake clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he finally turns to look at you.  

“So..,” you softly say, your fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the table, hoping he'll say something, anything. 

"So," Jake repeats for the third time, followed by an awkward chuckle. “Uh...what do we...do now?”  

You blink.

“Do now?”  

Jake’s eyes dart to yours, and for a second, you think he’s about to up and bolt from the table. 

“I mean, like, uh...we’re…well, I don’t know, is there something to do now..? Or not do? That’s okay too! I have no idea. I’m just—wow. Sorry.”  

You smile endearingly at him before breaking out into laughter as your heart does a little Olympics routine. How were you this oblivious before?  

“Jake,” you say between laughs, catching your breath as you instantly feel eased by him. "It's okay. I've been thinking...I—" 

You mentally high-five yourself and give yourself a pep talk for what you're about to say. Please, for the love of all things holy, don't let me be wrong about this.

"I can't stop thinking about you," you say, voice quiet, but steady. "It's like you've taken over my brain, Jake, and it's driving me crazy. And I don't know—I don't know if it's just me or if everything I've been sensing between us is real, but I think my brain might explode if I didn't tell you. Plus, I was terrified the Matchmatic would pair you with someone else and I had lost my chance."  

You finally feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders, but when you look at Jake? He's gone. Eyes wide, looking like a malfunctioning robot. His mouth opens and closes, and you're 110% sure he's about to glitch out of existence right in front of you.  

"Wow."  

You blink. Wow? That's it? Is this a good wow or a wow-she's-crazy wow? Naturally, you think it’s the latter, so you mentally prepare yourself to fake your death and move to Norway.  

But before you're about to flee the scene and start your new life as a mountain goat herder, Jake's eyes lock on yours, filled with the softest, most fond expression you've ever seen.  

"Y/N, I like you. A lot. And I have for, like...forever, I think." His voice is quiet, but his shoulders are more relaxed the more he looks at you. "I didn't think you'd feel the same way. You know, because we're friends and all." 

Your smile grows impossibly wide as you nudge his shoulder playfully with yours. 

"Well, surprise surprise, you're wrong."  

Jake chuckles, now fully facing you, his face flushed from wearing his heart on his sleeve. But for you? He thinks he’s about to stand on this lunch table and scream his feelings into a megaphone. 

"So...maybe we could try out this 'more-than-friends' thing?" you suggest, finding it hard to form a coherent sentence without sounding like a fifth grader. But Jake? Jake thinks seeing you stumbling your words over talking to him, for once, is the cutest sight ever. "I mean, unless you don't want—"  

"Oh, I definitely want to!" Jake practically launches himself forward, his smile so big you wish you could keep a mental image of it forever.

You laugh, suddenly feeling lighter. "Okay, then. Let's do it."  

"Here's to doing it!" Jake echoes, his voice warm and soft as he moves closer to you, finding it hard to resist just simply being in your close presence. Then, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, "I mean, not like do it, do it—wait, but not saying that I wouldn't—oh god—"  

Your giggles are uncontrollable once again as you watch Jake's face turn into the deepest shade of red you've ever seen. Without even thinking, you reach for his hand, seeking stability, as if he's a magnet drawing you in and you can't resist the pull of his warmth.

You finally take a breath, calming yourself down as Jake's eyes flicker down to your intertwined fingers, and his smile softens into something that makes your heart so full.  

For a moment, neither of you say anything, just letting the weight of everything finally settle, your hand resting under his in between you two. Then, Jake's thumb brushes softly over your knuckles, and he looks up at you with that newfound confidence that somehow makes him even more irresistible.  

“So…now what?” Jake's corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as he subconsciously leans in closer than before, and this time, you know there's no way you're backing out. 

A playful smile tugs at your lips as your eyes flicker between his soft brown eyes and his mouth. 

“Well, I mean…you still owe me from the vending machine.”  

Jake freezes. He blinks in confusion, and you're pretty sure you can hear the whirrr of his brain rebooting right in front of you.  

“Oh, you mean for the snacks? How much do I owe you? I can Venmo you, or, uh, buy you more snacks?” he stammers, completely caught off guard by your random comment, especially when he thought this was the moment. But, you know...priorities, I guess?  

Now you freeze, blinking at him before you let out a giggle that surprises even you. Seriously? You reach out and gently cup his adorably confused face.  

"Jake, you lovable dork," you say, shaking your head, unable to stop the giggles bubbling up. "Not what I meant."  

Jake doesn't even get the chance to respond (and honestly, he doesn't know if he could even form words right now, not with you so close, holding his face so gently). Before either of you even know it, you lean up and close the gap, your lips softly pressing against his.  

Jake freezes for a heartbeat. Or maybe two. He's unsure if he's even still breathing (is oxygen even necessary at a time like this?). But then, instinctively, his hands find their way to your waist, and he's gently pulling you closer on the table bench, as if he's afraid to let you slip away. He's pretty sure the world hit pause, and all that existed was the softness of your touch, the sweet warmth of your lips, and the faint vanilla scent of your shampoo that's doing a great job at scrambling his brain right now.  

He tries to stay cool—he really does—but his lips curve into a smile against yours, and he can't help but think, well, this is it. This is peak life. I've peaked. This? This just knocked anything else right off the leaderboard of his best life moments. 

It’s short. It’s sweet. It’s everything you didn’t know you needed and everything Jake’s been dreaming about.

He's savoring every little moment, every little movement guided by you, feeling like he's on cloud infinity, before you pull away, a soft pink blush growing on your entire face.

You lean your head back slightly to look at him, the warmth of the moment still lingering between you. Jake’s eyes are wide, his cheeks flushed, but there’s a soft, almost dazed smile playing on his lips, like he’s still processing.

"W-wow," he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper as he's trying to process if he's actually alive or in a sugar-induced dream. 

"Yeah," you breathe out, smiling as you gently run your thumb across his cheek, enjoying the way his face heats up even more under your touch. 

"So...," you say playfully after a beat of silence, leaning in so close that you're sure you’d be kissing him all over again if it wasn’t for your self-control, "do I still get my snacks?"

Jake laughs, officially breaking the heavy tension. He drops his head on your shoulder, completely and utterly overwhelmed by the pure sensation of you, but in the best way possible.  

"You can have all the snacks you want," he mumbles into your shoulder, his voice muffled but filled with so much affection that you think you might actually burst with joy. "Take my whole bank account while you're at it. Take whatever you want."  

You can't help but laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer to you. 

"You're ridiculous, Sim Jae-yun." 

"I know," he admits, voice still muffled into your shoulder. "But I'm your ridiculous, algorithm-proven match, right?"  

Jake feels your laughter from under him. "Mmmhmm, Jakey. 100% mine. Algorithm or not."  

You feel his smile grow against your shoulder as your arms squeeze him tighter. The perfect moment settles and you think you could die happy right now. For the first time in days, everything feels right.

But then, Jake pulls back just slightly, still under your hold, his eyebrows furrowing like he's about to say something very important.  

"Wait—" he raises his eyebrows at you.

 "—does this mean you never saw me as a Roomba?"  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

epilogue: 

“If your next words are that you’re Spider-Man,” you say, your head nestled in Jake’s lap as you absentmindedly watch the TV, “then congratulations, you’re officially the world’s coolest boyfriend ever.”

Jake lets out a soft laugh, his fingers gently playing with the ends of your hair. It’s movie night—a rare, private one this time, much to your friends' annoyance. No horror films tonight (thank god, because Jake still hasn’t fully recovered from the last one), but honestly, the movie has long been forgotten. The moment Jake blurted out that he had something ‘dire’ to tell you, all plotlines flew out the window. 

You told him, unless it's about a sudden worldwide ramen shortage or that he's secretly a bug-themed superhero, then it could definitely wait until after the movie. 

But Jake had shook his head, claiming no, it’s like…life-changing important. 

Which is why you’re here now, his lap a perfect pillow, waiting for him to speak. He looks down at you, and you finally catch the serious gleam in his eyes. Oh wait, he’s actually being serious. 

“No, unfortunately, I don’t have Spidey senses,” he laughs nervously, gently nudging you up until you’re sitting face to face on the couch. “I do think I’ve developed Y/N senses, though.” 

“Oh? What are your Y/N senses telling you now?” you raise an eyebrow, smirking. 

“Um… that you hopefully won’t be mad at me?” Jake’s voice wavers slightly, hands fiddling with yours, and your playful smile fades just a little, confusion and worry taking over your face. 

“Oh. Okay. What’s up?” You straighten up, fully turning toward him, sitting crisscrossed.

Jake hesitates, looking down at your intertwined fingers, and takes a deep breath.

“Well, remember the Matchmatic thingy from a few months ago?” 

“Mmhm,” you hum, studying his expression. 

“So… um…I may or may not have done something…to make sure you got matched with me,” Jake’s eyes immediately squeeze shut, bracing for impact, like he’s expecting an explosion, or worse, your wrath. 

There’s a beat of silence. And then— 

You burst into laughter. Full-on, head-thrown-back, shoulders-shaking laughter. You drop your head back into Jake’s lap, your cackles muffled by his hoodie, while Jake sits frozen, staring at you like you’ve grown two heads. 

“I—uh… I’m confused?” He stares down at you, unsure if you’re about to pull a full-on Joker moment. 

“Jakey,” you coo, your laughter softening into giggles as you sit back up and cradle his cheeks. “You are so adorable. You really thought I didn’t know?” 

Jake blinks. 

“Wait, what?” 

“I knew.” You grin, watching as his brain seems to stall for a second. 

“…You knew?” 

You nod, leaning back on your hands. 

“Yeah, I knew. I mean, I kind of just put two and two together after we started dating. And Hee? He's a genius, no way he messed up the first way around,” you roll your eyes playfully. 

“But the thing is, Jake… the algorithm didn’t make me like you. I already did.” You reach forward and tap his forehead lightly, preciously smiling at how utterly stunned he looks. 

“You—wait, what?” Jake’s mind is catching up at the speed of 3G internet. 

“Yeah,” you laugh again, softer this time.  

He’s still staring at you, wide-eyed, like you just casually told him you're moving to the moon tomorrow. Honestly, he looks like his entire world just got flipped upside down, but in the best way possible, of course.  

“So…you’re not mad?” 

"Nope."  

"And you still wanna be with me?"  

"Yup."  

"And you're not just saying that because I buy you all the snacks you want?"  

"Nope."  

"Oh thank god," Jake exhales dramatically, hand flying to his chest like he barely survived a life-threatening situation. He looks at you with the softest, dopiest smile that makes you feel like you're staring at a puppy in a rom-com. "Because you are, hands down, the most perfect person for me. Like, ever."  

"You are so cute, Jakey," you scrunch your nose at him before leaning up to plant a quick kiss on his blushing cheek, which only makes his ears turn an even deeper shade of red.  

But before you can pull away, he's already frowning playfully.  

"Wait, wait—one more question." 

"Mhm?" 

"Cute as in 'kiss' cute or 'puppy' cute?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

the end! i hope you guys liked it ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

m.list here!

tagged: @climbingmandevillas @byeoltual @junhuiste-ficrec

cue all the tags now...

LONG CHAT (#♥︎) :: k.mj smau

pairing :: kim minjeong (aespa) x oc (reader)

oc name :: lee heeseul

genre :: smau (social media au), idol!au, band!au, bandmate's!sister!minjeong, nonidol!minjeong, strangers to friends to [REDACTED] to lovers, fluff, angst, comedy ((lmk if i missed anything!))

synopsis! :: after long years of studying abroad, minjeong is finally back in korea. having spent all her time there piled up in her room studying, she's determined to life her life to the fullest. what's better than attending your brother's band's concert, right? when feelings start to bloom and there isn't any sign of spring yet; minjeong and heeseul are forced to navigate. once their hearts' strings get entangled does it really hit to the two that it may just be more complicated to go back than expected.

warnings :: may be slightly suggestive (not sure), kms/kys jokes, broken humor, profanity, lowercase intended, more may be added as the fic goes on

featuring :: aespa, enhypen, nct, le sserafim, and lots more idols

song recs :: long chat (#♥︎); aespa | feel my rhythm; red velvet | butterflies; (nayeon) twice | love dive; ive | fever; enhypen | hype boy; newjeans | cheer up; twice | heat waves; glass animals | xo (only if you say yes); enhypen | push & pull; (sana, dahyun, jihyo) twice | licorice; aespa | wishing on you; (jihyo) twice | cupid; fifty fifty

updates :: n/a

status :: coming soon

timeline :: (drafted; september 25, 2024) published; september 29, 2024 started; not yet ended; nobody knows

taglist :: [open!]

(heavy) disclaimer! :: this is totally just fiction, i don't hate any of the idols and i'm in no way trying to say that the idols are like how i portrayed them, in real life.

|| universe!

MASTERLIST (#♥︎)

profiles :: (#1) trick or trick | (#2) minjeong's soldiers | (#3) tot addicts

(#one) :: girlboss shit detected.

more tba—

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Jaehyun ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Jaehyun x f!famous!reader

summary: you and Jaehyun are paired up for an interview. You should know what texting your boyfriend is like, right?

(cw: f!reader, famous!reader)

"Hi," Jaehyun greets the camera, "this is the perfect opportunity to catch up on some music." He settles into the plush pink chair while he fits the headphones over his ears.

His music begins to play while you enter the set and greet the camera which prevents him from hearing who his mystery partner might be. You pop your earbuds in and explain your screen name, "I chose Cupid because I like to set my friends up and help them in their relationships."

The camera cuts to Jaehyun who stares blankly at the camera, "I choose Valentine, because I was born on Valentine's day."

You settle into the chair and make yourself comfortable while your partner for the video begins messaging you. Whoever it is is very proper, uses all the right punctuation and is straightforward. Your eyes widen at the camera, speaking through the music playing through your earbuds, "is this an old man? Am I texting someone's grandpa?"

The staff bursts out laughing and you decide to text your exact question. Jaehyun's eyes widen and he can feel his ears heat in embarrassment beneath the head phones. He texts back with a slight pout on his face, "No, I'm not a grandpa."

You text back and forth for a while, talking about your hobbies, your MBTI, and just trying to make small talk. When you make a joke he doesn't respond with any laughs or emojis, when you try to make more conversation, he responds with short answers. You lean back in your chair, with a huff, "this person is not very fun. It has to be an old man. He doesn’t get any of my jokes!”

The staff prompts you both to send a picture of your home screens. You had recently updated it knowing that you were doing the interview and you and Jaehyun liked to keep your relationship private. Yes, it was known and public, but that didn't mean you were both open to sharing every little aspect, or really any details. Maybe one day you would both be open to sharing everything, but that day was not today.

You quickly take a screenshot of your screen which happens to be a couple folders of your apps and a widget of some picture you had found on Pinterest against the background of some flowers outside your favorite cafe.

Jaehyun perks up a little bit, "I think this looks familiar. I recognize the chairs and words on the wall, even though I can't really see it. Maybe it's one of the members?"

You study the picture sent to you with your brows furrowed as you zoom in and study the apps and the picture, "this looks so familiar to me. It looks like a restaurant in Jeju I was at a few weeks ago, I could be wrong. Let me ask."

The staff struggles to muffle their laughs at yours and Jaehyun's joint confusion. Of course, the pictures looked familiar to each of you, you were together, and had been to these places together.

You continue to text back and forth for a while, finally getting somewhere when he starts to show a little more personality and send some memes in response to your texts. He seemed to be a pretty funny guy, ultimately making you decide it was not an old man you were texting, just someone more proper and maybe old-er.

When it comes time to have you both send your recent food orders, Jaehyun pouts and furrows his brows as he studies the recent orders you'd sent him. There were 3 recent orders, 2 were for 2 people, and the last one was for a larger group. The orders looked familiar, one order for pizza and the other for ramen. It was food he had recently eaten and as hard as he tried to remember he couldn't remember who he had eaten the food with. His schedule had been so packed lately, everything was jumbled up in his head. "It has to be one of my members," he decides out loud.

You study the screenshot sent by "Valentine" while biting your lip, one of the orders was what you had eaten yesterday. A small voice in the back of your head was telling you it was your boyfriend, but he told you he was doing talk shows and variety shows today. This wasn't considered either right? Does he really text like this and you’ve never noticed? Surely, you know what your own boyfriend texts like, right?

You both continue chatting and whoever it is makes you laugh pretty hard at some points when your partner says something stupid or sends a dumb meme. You laugh especially loud, choking on your spit when he sends you a drawing of what he thinks you look like.

You have tears in your eyes and warm cheeks as you stare at a poor drawing of what looks like a boy, freckles, huge eyes, big smile. Your eyes dart from the screen of your phone to the lens of the camera, “wh- he thinks I’m a boy? This doesn’t even look like a person who actually exists!”

Jaehyun on his own side bursts out laughing after zooming in and looking at every detail of the picture, “there are wrinkles on this drawings face. And it’s bald. He thinks I’m an old man, so weird.”

As the time winds to an end you look at the staff behind the camera, somewhat shocked and saddened by the end. "Time flew by!" you scrunch up your face as you think, "I don't think I have a really good read on who it is. I think it's a man that's older than me and probably someone in the music industry since he related to so much. Maybe he's a dancer or producer of some kind."

On the other side Jaehyun is set on who he thinks it is, "it's one of my members, I know it. I think it's Jungwoo or Haechan."

You both stand and turn to face your partners. Upon catching sight of Jaehyun, you immediately scream and run behind the set laughing while screaming, "you told me you had variety shows today! Go home!"

Jaehyun bursts out laughing, hunched over as his cheeks flush, "you didn't tell me either! Get back here!"

Your voice comes out loudly paired with your surprised and embarrassed laughter, "No! I'm so humilated!"

The staff manages to get you both together for the ending conversation. The cameras start filming and you smack Jaehyun's forearm lightly, "you are a horrible texter."

"What did I even say?" He laughs in shock.

"I never realized how boring you are through words, you text like an old man."

Jaehyun answers the staff as they ask how you both possible couldn't pick up on each other through the texts. Jaehyun looks at the camera while he answers, his hand holding yours beneath the tall table, "I think texting is so boring and annoying. We call each other or video call. If we open our messages we use voice notes, we very rarely actually text each other.

You squeeze his hand under the table, eyeing him with a mischievous look, “who did you think I was? You thought I was a boy, who did you have in mind?”

Jaehyun rubs his free hand over his face, already regretting his guess, “before I tell you, you have to understand my thinking. Jeno and Chenle did one of these interviews together so I just figured it could be another member. I thought you were Jungwoo or Haechan.”

You guffaw, a shocked laugh leaving you as you pull your phone out and pull up the drawing he had sent you, “this is what Jungwoo or Haechan look like to you?”

“I’m not an artist! Well, not that kind of artist, but I think it’s pretty good. I even added teeth in the smile.”

“Babe, that’s creepy.”

“Who knew you were such an art critic all of a sudden?” He playfully asks with a bobble of his head.

The staff subtly tell you both to wrap it up, reminding you to take a selfie before ending the video. You catch the cues and smile at Jaehyun, “we’ve been together for a while now but I feel like I learned a lot about you today. You text like an old man, you can’t draw, and you have a horrible memory.”

“Hey! You didn’t know who I was either! The food orders didn’t give anything away?”

“We’re talking about this later,” you decide to reply as you lift your phone to take a selfie.

“Wait, lift it to this angle,” Jaehyun instructs as he gently moves your arm.

“Wow, so bossy,” you mumble jokingly as you snap the picture.

The screen goes black with the selfie of you and Jaehyun with matching bright smiles on your faces as yours and Jaehyun’s laugh transition into the ending of the video.

how long | lee taeyong (mini) social media au

—♡

· pairing: taeyong x oc

· genre: roommates & friends to lovers, mutual pining, people in love and denial for the sake of friendship

· important: this will have a total of 4 parts (and probably a bonus post bc i enjoy writing them a lot). as usual, don't mind timestamps.

· author's note: so taeyong's latest ig posts made me spiral and this happened. this is lighthearted and silly so i hope y'all have fun!

au's title: how long by the paper kites

inspired by suhnshinehaos' nct 96z roomies [i highly recommend you check those smau out if you haven't already]

any feedback is well appreciated <3

one | two | three | four

—♡——♡——♡——♡——♡——♡——♡——♡——♡—

one

next

—♡—

nct dream masterlist

fluff (F), mature (M), angst (A), smut (X), smau (📱), story (📖), texts (💬), drabble (🖋️)

⭒ OT7

unsuccessful "let's break up" (💬)

⭒ MARK LEE

1-800-hot-n-fun (💬)

⭒ HUANG RENJUN

an angel gets his wings (M)(📱)

1-800-hot-n-fun (💬)

⭒ LEE JENO

swiped (💬)

⭒ LEE DONGHYUCK

random bf messages (💬)

1-800-hot-n-fun (💬)

⭒ NA JAEMIN

1-800-hot-n-fun (💬)

1-800-still hot-n-still fun (💬)

⭒ ZHONG CHENLE

brother’s best friend (💬)

1-800-hot-n-fun (💬)

⭒ PARK JISUNG

lie with you (M)(📱) ✔︎

1-800-hot-n-fun (💬)

⭒ PAIRINGS

jeno x jaemin (X)(🖋️)

#000 :: kira's universe ! ᯓ✦

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ all of kira's works, in one place. 𐙚

Long Chat (#♥︎) | kim minjeong smau | aespa | masterlist |

Red5diamonds | (g)i-dle imagines and fake texts | masterlist |

Drama4life | aespa imagines and fake texts | nasterlist |

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

more to be added..

⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚✧˖°.

DO IT AGAIN

PAIRING brother’s best friend!park jisung x fem!reader

WORDS 3.7k

SYNOPSIS your brother’s best friend can never get you alone. that’s why he won’t miss an opportunity— even if your brother’s on the other side of the walls.

WARNINGS reader is tyong’s sister, jealousy, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

NOTES this smut is actually from a super long fic i posted on my old account! i’m not sure if i’m gonna post the whole thing because i’m cringing rereading it lol

“So, how’s your big bro’s parties? It’s better than frat parties huh?” Taeyong dangles the red cup charged with alcohol in front of your face just for you to swat away in annoyance. “No musty bathrooms and paint peeling off the walls! Woooooooo!”

You’re going to have to have a jolly time cleaning his vomit in the morning. “Stop drinking you little shit. I’m not gonna take care of you tomorrow, just so you know.”

He does a little dance that has you suppressing a laugh, “The night is still young! Loosen up a little! Won’t stop until you’re having as much fun as me!” Your brother is so out of it, that he bumps into a million corners of the home and an attendee urges him to the couch.

“Actually… I’m not feeling so good,” he shushes the person helping before running out of the main room.

“Oh my god,” you pinch the sides of your nose bridge, unable to understand how Taeyong’s motto is always all or nothing.

You're nothing near Taeyong's level of intoxication, and whether it's the devil on your shoulder or the drink, you want Jisung. Excruciatingly so. Whoever claimed that drinking made you act like a bitch in heat wasn't kidding. It's more than true now that you know he's nearby– wanting to look for Jisung because if he wasn't going to make a move tonight, you would.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls you, prompting you to turn around.

“Hyuck? Oh my god! How are you?” you’re already bringing your arms out for a hug and he’s quick to immediately accept.

You both went to high school together before he left for university thousands of miles away. He still texts you now and then, but due to the time difference, you never had the opportunity to properly catch up.

“Not doing too bad. It’s so good to finally talk face-to-face babe, holy shit,” he chuckles.

“How’s the East Coast? Did you find a girlfriend at Columbia yet?”

“Nah, you know me. Girls there are way too preppy for me. Plus, I can’t stand another minute of freshmen thinking they’re living through Gossip Girl,” he pretends to gag, swaying his body from side to side.

“Hey! Don’t hate. That show was ahead of its time,” you comment, brows raised.

“It IS! But I’m talking about the people acting as if they were a part of the show themselves. Like come on, you were probably five when it came out!” he exclaims.

​​"Fair enough," you nod. "You know who you should go for?" an idea flashes across your mind as you speak.

“Who?” he shifts closer, genuinely curious.

You wave towards you as another way of telling him to step even closer and cup your hand behind his ear before whispering, “Yuna.”

“What?! There’s no way!” he steps away, not expecting you would say your best friend’s name.

“Come on! You guys would look so hot together! What’s so ‘no way’ about that idea?”

Your old friend momentarily pauses, like he didn’t know what kind of question you asked. “She’d never go for me.”

“What? She used to have a crush on you! You were always around different girls so she never made a move,” you affirm. “You know how she was in high school,” you remind him of the girl who was once afraid to step out of her comfort zone.

“Are you serious? There’s no way that’s true! You’re straight up lying to my face right now,” he groans, looking as if he was going through a mental crisis due to the news.

“I swear on my Loubitons that it’s true! Just talk to her,” you point to the back door. “She’s in the backyard. I’m sure she would love to catch up.”

He brings a hand to his chin, soothingly rubbing with his index, “You do love those shoes…”

“More than myself, so come on! The times ticking!” you press him further, and his eyes light up when he realizes the words you’re feeding him might actually be true.

“You know what, fuck it.”

“That’s what I like to hear! Acting like a true alpha male!” you jump up and down, probably with more excitement than he has.

He chuckles at your words, “Okay. Okay. Let’s hang out and catch up this week. Let me know when you’re free.”

“Okay now go!” you try not to hold him back longer than he needs to be.

“I”m go-”

Before you can properly bid goodbye, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away towards the narrow hallway of the home.

You see it’s Jisung after checking, and he’s definitely on a mission by the way he doesn’t utter a word. Instead, he drags you through the hallway and finally halts his steps at the sign of your bedroom door.

“Jisung, what are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t let up on your wrist, and definitely doesn’t spare you a glance until you’re both in the room with the door shut behind your back. It’s almost pitch black in the room, and the only light source is the hallway lights illuminating underneath the crack of the door. Jisung finally lets go of your wrist when it’s just you two in your own space, and he brings that same arm above your head to anchor himself.

“Jisung.”

“Y/n,” his voice comes out hoarse, more playful. This was just what you wanted. He’s right here on a silver platter and you hadn’t even come close to building up the courage to approach him first.

Too bad you love to act dumb for the hell of it.

“What are you doing?” your eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, noticing how close his face was to yours. It was the perfect opportunity. Taeyong was probably passed out along with the loud music all throughout the house. There’s no way anyone could hear a thing from inside the room.

“Just wanted you to myself,” he comments. You can smell the alcohol on his lips, assuming it was the reason behind his impatience– but don’t think he’s drunk due to his coherent speech and careful movements.

“You have me to yourself now. So what is it?” you gloat, acting as if you don’t notice him struggling to control himself.

“Sorry, I took you away from your little boyfriend. Look’s like you guys were having fun,” you can hear the slight anger in his voice, jaw clenching following the statement.

You roll your eyes in order to suppress a grin, the alcohol influencing you to play games, “Hyuck isn’t my boyfriend, just an old friend. Remember him?”

He notices the hint of playfulness in your eyes, wanting to just fuck it out of you. But he’s waited too long to do this, and there have been too many interrupted moments, so he leans into patience for resolve. “Oh, I must have missed something babe.”

You shift your face closer to him to prove your point once again, “He calls everyone that! Go up to him, he’ll literally call you babe.”

“Hmm,” Jisung hums. “Should I call him Hyuck too?”

Your eyes shoot to his plushy lips, his jealousy turning you on, but you don’t back down just yet, “If you heard that, then you must’ve heard the part where I told him to go for Yuna.”

“I checked out the moment you were calling each other pet names, baby,” he leans his hips against you, eyes evident with desire even in the darkness.

“Well, it’s definitely different coming from you,” you give him what he wants to hear, but it’s ultimately the truth.

Jisung pulls back just to lean down against your ear, “Different, how?”

It’s like he knows the power he has over you when he’s using that tone, including the fact that you feel him between your legs only slightly hard. It’s definitely bigger than you previously thought, the excitement shooting to your core, “I’m not spelling it out for you, baby.”

The name has him bringing his face back to where it was before, cocking a brow. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Play games. Don’t fuck with me because if you are, I’m gonna lose it,” he seethes, all control he previously displayed being lost in an instant.

You began narrowing the gap between the two of you even more, your noses brushing against each other. Jisung falters slightly as you do so, his hand landing on your hip. He's noticeably less in control than when he initially encircled you in the room, taking in every inch of you as you jut your hips forward.

He groans, struggling to keep up with what you've been doing.

"I'm not fucking with you," you say, holding his chin with your thumb and index finger, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. "Just giving you what you want."

Jisung doesn’t know how you tempt while looking so innocent. If he’s being honest with himself, he never holds a sliver of command when you’re present. “You’re hot as fuck,” he mutters, trying to maintain a normal breathing pattern.

"You're hotter," your lips nearly touch at the movement. You're grinning ear-to-ear, but it's short-lived as Jisung grabs your nape and presses his lips to yours. This kiss is nothing like the previous one, and you want to drown in him. You press your mouth even harder on his, and he responds by positioning his entire weight against your body. You’re actually somewhat sober this time around and take notice of the piercing at the corner of his lips. The silver metal grazing over your lips provides a cold sensation to the hot atmosphere, and you push down a moan at the feeling.

He’s such a good kisser, it surprises you but doesn’t at the same time. The boy you used to know was so different than the one in front of you now.

When you set your arms around his neck to play with his locks, he grabs a hold of your waist. You're drowning, arching your back to relieve the tension in your body as the kiss deepens. Jisung licks your lips, and you easily accept his tongue, lips fighting against his. His tongue dances with yours, getting sloppier by the minute, ready to rip each other's clothes off.

He taps the back of your leg with his hand, signaling for you to jump. You do so without breaking contact with his lips, and he smiles against yours. The taste of alcohol in his mouth ignites something within you, along with the scent of his washed hair intertwined with the cologne he’s wearing.

Jisung slowly sets you down against the mattress, slotting himself between your legs before he pulls back for air. “You look submissive as fuck right now. Is that what you’re into? Being dominated?” he purrs, fingers playing with the waistline of your pants.

“Only if you like to dominate.”

The switch in his head flips, and he uses one hand to unzip your jeans to slowly run his fingers over your clothed clit. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure to your sensitive core that's been begging to be touched. The thin material of your panties doesn’t do much to shield his touch, but one thing’s for sure, if it feels this good, you can’t imagine how it’d feel when it’s not just a tease.

“Fuck,” you pant, moving your hands underneath Jisung’s shirt.

“What?” he asks, moving down to your neck. The sensation of his warm tongue against your neck has your skin igniting goosebumps all over. “I can’t hear you. Already falling apart?”

“N-no,” you stutter, knowing damn well that anything done to you will be the actual end. It seems like he wants to win the moment he brings his red and swollen lips back onto yours, sparing any niceties. He’s smothering you, ruthlessly kissing you to no end. But when you become lost in his lips once again, Jisung slips his hand underneath the band of your underwear to touch your pussy head-on.

“Jisungg,” you say against his mouth.

Of course, he doesn’t let up, circling your bud, knowing exactly where to touch you even though this is the first time you’ve done this with him. It’s nothing, but feels like so much, your thighs attempting to close around his hand.

He’s still attacking your mouth with his, fingers trailing in an up-and-down motion between your folds. It surprises you, and you moan against his mouth, unable to maintain the same pattern with your lips. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he lets go of your mouth with a pop, groaning at the arousal coating his fingers.

“Please, Jisung. I need you,” you whimper, unable to take any more of the mere seconds of pleasure he’s giving you. You don’t even look down as he slides your pants off along with your panties in one motion. He tsks, lowly enunciating a small, “So impatient.”

Without anything in the way, he doesn’t waste time plunging his fingers into your pussy, groaning at the way the muscle tightly clamps around his fingers– and it shoots straight down to your core, never getting enough of how deep his voice is.

The pleasure you’ve been trying to grasp is finally reached, a gasp spilling from your lips once he curls his fingers inside you. Your hands have found their way to his back, fingers digging deep into his skin and he hisses at the slight pain.

“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs against your ear while his fingers begin to speed up in pace. You’re bucking your hips up, wanting to meet him halfway in order to reach euphoria. “I w-want it,” you cry.

“Want what?” he asks, voice too soft for the motions he’s enacting.

“Want you. Want you so bad,” you moan, throwing your head back when he hits a certain spot. It feels too good to stop, and every part of your body tingles at the pleasure.

You want to sob at the feeling it brings you, his fingers, mercilessly driving in and out of your cunt, while his thumb circles your clit. Your stomach feels tight from all the stimulation, and his body pressed against yours makes you feel hot all over. What you don’t notice is Jisung’s watching every movement on your facial features, loving the way your brows scrunch and how your pretty lips open up every time he hits a certain spot.

The band in your lower abdomen is on the verge of snapping, and the fact that he's above you doesn't help. Jisung's hair still falls perfectly, occasionally brushing the tip of his nose. He’s so fucking hot, you can’t hold back. You can't stop the orgasm from reaching your body simply by the way he feels on your body and looks above you.

“P-please,” you beg.

At the feeling of your pussy tightening around your fingers, he digs into your cheek, bringing your face back towards his. “Come on, you can do it. Cum,” he demands.

“F-fuck! I-I’m gonna–” you scream, body convulsing as your orgasm washes over you. He doesn’t stop his movements until you’re whining for him to stop. Pulling his coated fingers out, just to bring it to his lips.

As the climactic high wears off, your body becomes limp, but the image of Jisung bringing his plump lips to wrap around his fingers leaves you wanting more. You nearly squeak when he groans at the taste, letting go of his fingers with a pop. "Mmm," Jisung moans. "You taste so good."

“Here, have a taste baby,” he smirks, bringing those same digits to swipe motions at your core. You whimper at the sensitivity, the buzzing feeling still present. “Open,” he commands.

You listen, sticking out your tongue for him to insert them into your mouth. The wet muscle swirls around his fingers, finally closing around them, and you gag when he presses further into your mouth, teasing your throat. “Good girl.”

It’s so arousing that you intend to get up from your original position beneath him, but he catches your wrists and pins them over your head to keep you in place. Maybe it's the unfulfilled horniness from all the other times he’s tried to get you under him, but it's got you whining and squirming beneath him for his tolerance. “Fuck, it’s like you knew this was gonna happen,” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off your body.

His hot breath fans against your face, “Did you?” He begins to trace the contours of your body, slipping underneath your shirt on his way up. “No,” it’s a weak response, body twitching when he starts massaging your breasts. You had just experienced an unearthly orgasm, but everything Jisung does just causes your cunt to clench around nothing, and it’s only once out of a million times since he walked through the door.

“Just fuck me,” you plead, feeling his thick cock prodding at the side of your thigh.

“You sure?” he asks once more for confirmation.

“Yes, now hurry,” your whine turns into a pout, and he chuckles at your impatience.

“Do you have a condom in your room?”

“Fuck no, I’m on birth control.” He groans at the information, already quick to tug his cock out of its confines.

And just like that, Jisung slowly inches his cock into you. “Oh,” you cry at the fullness. He’s stretching you out so well, and the slight burn just adds fuel to the fire.

“Holy shit,” he sighs. “You’re so tight,” to ease the tightness, his fingers are already making their way back to your bud, circling in slow motions, “Relax for me pretty.”

You nod, eyes rolling back into your head when he slowly begins to move. “Fffuck,” he curses, his grip moving to your waist the moment your legs instinctively wrap around his. He feels so fucking good inside you and you regret with every ounce of your being you both didn’t do this sooner. You should’ve jumped him when you had the chance because fuck. How are you going to stop now? “You feel so fucking good,” he groans at the sensation.

“Ji–sung,” you moan, “Faster.” Your walls clench around his hard cock dragging against your walls, speeding up in pace and you fully lose it. The lewd sounds of skin slapping echo through the bedroom, and Jisung just swallows your pour of moans. He eventually listens to your request, practically nailing you into the mattress. It feels so good, the sounds coming from him, the feel of his cock pulling out, leaving the tip, just to roughly thrust back inside. You don’t know how much more you can take.

The thin silver chain he always wears around his neck dangles right before your eyes, and even in your fucked out state, you can’t stop looking at Jisung. The sweat on his forehead causes the front pieces to stick, the glow of sex already peeking through. “This is what you get,” he spits, but you can tell he’s slightly holding back. “This is what you get for all the times you fucking ran away. When I could’ve fucked you dumb like you want.”

Jisung’s name was the only thing coherent as he drills into you, squealing at a particular thrust of his hips. He’s so deep inside you, tip faintly against your cervix. “You’re cock’s s-so big,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision. The higher the tension builds in your stomach, the more Jisung continues to destroy you. “Jisung, fuck!”

“You like it hard huh? Want me to make your pussy mine?” His dirty words only have you holding onto him tighter, digging the heel of your feet into his spine. It’s too bad you can’t respond, your brain a puddle of mush at this point, cock going too fast for you to think about anything else. The bed frame knocks against the walls as the bed shakes but there’s no room to worry about that. Especially when he’s hitting every spot inside you perfectly.

“Answer me,” he grunts as your moans grow higher in pitch, unable to take it much longer.

“Y-yes, it’s a-all yours,” your body jolts after every movement, carving pleasure all over his skin. The thread that holds on for dear life is on the verge of snapping, and you wail before your second orgasm can send you crashing down.

It was so easy for Jisung to slide in and out of your pussy, your dripping arousal coating his cock perfectly. “Ji–” you attempt to warn him, but he already made his way back to your clit, pressing rough circles. You begin to babble random sounds, unable to form coherent words when he’s impaling you.

“Yes!” A shriek tears itself from your throat at your orgasm, and your toes curl at the high that takes over you yet again tonight. Your body spasms, and your mind stuck in a haze when he continues stuffing your achy cunt with him.

“Holy shit,” it’s almost impossible for Jisung to keep going when you’re clamping down on him like a vice, keeping him from completely being able to leave.

“Inside, cum inside, Jisung,” you plead when his hips begin to stutter. After a few more thrusts, he fully moans, painting your insides. “Fuck,” It feels even more full than before, if that was even possible and you whimper from the overstimulation from the last few movements. After his orgasm is at its resolution, he slumps into your form, not bothering to pull out.

You’re both just lying there trying to catch your breath, and it’s somewhat serene. The music combined with the vague sound of murmurs could be heard from outside and that’s when you remember that there were indeed a bunch of individuals present too. Maybe they heard you guys fucking, and Jisung seems to have similar thoughts when he raises his head to murmur something. “I forgot to lock the door.”

Your eyes shoot wide open in response, “What? Are you serious? Someone could walk in to you butt-ass naked!”

You’re actually alarmed, but he just stares back at you, his mouth turning into a wide grin. “Nah, I’m just playin',” he laughs.

You chuckle along with him, playfully slapping his shoulder because of his unseriousness. “You’re so annoying.”

“Get used to it baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

Watched Jaemin and Mark live the other day and they played Jealous Tendencys 😲 Jaemin was so hot 🤭 can you please write a fic where fwb Jaemin is jealous of yn and Mark (when Mark tries to get to know yn)🫣 thank you in advance luv!!

warning:smut, p in v

a/n:pls...I really surrendered my soul when I watched the live, JAEMIN WAS SO F HOT, anyway, thank you for your request I hope you like it🤍🤍

wc:1,9k

"It's really nice to meet you Y/n. Why hasn't Jaemin ever mentioned you?" You laughed when Jaemin rolled his eyes at Mark's question. He regretted accidentally mentioning you to him a few days ago. Sure, you agreed that nothing romantic would happen between you two, but was Jaemin going to watch you flirt with him after he fucked you half an hour before Mark got home?

You came onto his cock with a loud moan as Jaemin pounded your pussy once more. He tiredly laid down next to you and kissed your forehead. "Are you okay?" You turned to him, trying to catch your breath. "God...You were harder than usual." He laughed at your words and sat up straight and smoothed his hair that was sticking to his forehead. "Mark will be here in a few hours." You sat up as well. "Yeah? We still have time for the shower."

Jaemin turned his head to you, staring at your face for a moment. "Are you really okay with meeting him?" You laughed, frowning in disbelief. “I mean...Of course? I’ve only been having sex with you for a long time, it might be good to try someone new. Mark... I’m already curious about what kind of person he is.” he watched your excitement, jaw clenched, and grabbed your wrist, quickly leading you to the bathroom. “Don’t get your hopes up.” you entered the bathroom, Jaemin spoke again as he adjusted the water. “Before you flirt with him, remember who fucked you a few hours ago.”

Even though what you had just experienced with Jaemin didn’t leave your mind, there was something else that didn’t leave your mind, and that was why he was so angry about this situation. You had already set your rules for this fwb relationship, but it seemed like someone was completely disregarding them. Whenever you tried to bring someone else into your life, it only ended in failure because of Jaemin, and it seemed like this would happen too.

You turned your attention away from him and looked at Mark with a smile, and when you were about to answer his question, Jaemin quickly intervened. “I didn’t mention it because I don’t have to tell you everything.” Noticing his anger, Mark laughed nervously. “Dude, calm down. It’s just that Y/n is really beautiful, I can’t believe you hid her from me.” Mark leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, examining you, a smile appearing on your face when you saw him looking at you up and down, you didn’t take your eyes off him. "I think it’s good that we met, I’d like to get to know you better.”

Jaemin laughed hysterically, licking his dry lips and brushing his hair back with a deep breath. His angry expression amused you even more, you really liked pushing his boundaries and Jaemin knew it all too well. “Yeah, Y/n is beautiful but don’t you think you’re overdoing it? Take it slow dude this is your first time seeing each other.” Mark tore his eyes away from you and looked at Jaemin, you looked at him the same way, what he said sounded funny because when you first saw each other all you did was spend a lot of time naked in bed and now he was trying to protect you.

Mark frowned and glanced at the two of you, slowly pointing his index finger at the two of you "Dude wait- are you two..." You looked at Jaemin, and when you saw the slight smirk on his face you immediately jumped in "Friends? Yes we are, it hasn't been that long actually so it's normal that you don't know me." You turned back to him, when you saw the smirk on his face turn into irritation you let out a small chuckle. Mark took the opportunity to quickly reply "Oh that's great, so can we get some alone time one day?" You looked at the phone he held out to you, you reached for it but another hand snatched it away as you were about to grab it, both of you looked at Jaemin with a questioning look, Jaemin handed the phone back to Mark "Do you really need the number? Just come to my house when you want to see her, because I'm sure she'll be here."

Mark took the phone without a word and looked at you again, you bit your lower lip to keep from laughing and cleared your throat "Alright then. I better go." Mark stood up and you heard a calming sigh from Jaemin, Mark turned to you one last time before walking out the door. "I'll see you later?" You gave him a smile, leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "I'll see you later." Mark swallowed hard, holding his breath for a moment as your voice echoed in his ears, Jaemin's throat clearing interrupted you. Mark returned to reality and soon left the house. Jaemin was looking at you with his arms crossed, you tried to walk past him but were forced to stand still when his hand grabbed your wrist harder than it should have been, you looked at him. "Yeah?" He leaned closer to your face, his voice wasn't loud but you didn't need it to tell that he was definitely angry. "What's with all this attitude? Are you going to flirt with every guy you meet like that?" The relaxed attitude you displayed in response to his anger made him even angrier, you grinned and pulled your arm. "Do I need to reiterate the rules we talked about? Because you don't seem to follow any of them."

He just studied you with a serious expression on his face, "Fuck the rules, it's funny how you think anyone else can get close to you when I'm around, Y/n." You tilted your head slightly to the side. "This is the purpose of our relationship, Jaemin. Just sex and no feelings. I thought we agreed on that." He grabbed your arms and pulled you towards him, you had to lift your head slightly to look at him because of the closeness. "We may not have feelings between us, but that still doesn't mean I'll let anyone else touch you." You lowered your eyes to his lips, a slight smirk appearing on your face. "Oh, is that jealousy I feel?"

The satisfied expression on your face made him swallow. "You know damn well. And you like it, don't you?" He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the wall, a small pained groan coming out of your mouth. "Fuck-" Jaemin didn't wait long before he moved to your neck, you shivered when he breathed into your neck. “If you like driving me crazy, then go ahead. But know that all this effort is for nothing because I will never let anyone else know about this body that I know every single detail of, you understand?” He sucked on your earlobe and started kissing you from behind your ear, moving his kisses down, bringing his knee between your legs and pressing it against your pussy over your dress, you let out a breath.

He slowly moved his hand down your body, the kisses started to wet your neck, he reached his hand inside your dress and caressed your clit “J-jaem..” your body started to burn, every place he kissed left a mark of fire. Jaemin had no intention of stopping, he had no intention of sharing you with anyone else and you had to learn that, one way or another. “Being alone with Mark, hm? Maybe if I leave marks all over your body he’ll figure out who you belong to, what do you think?” You moaned slightly in pain when he bit your neck hard, your voice reaching his ears and he couldn’t suppress the urge to do more.

Soon your panties were on the floor and you were in Jaemin’s lap, you were tired of moving, Jaemin smirked as he listened to your whimpering and examined you. “Are you tired? That soon?” He grabbed your hips and squeezed them lightly. “You want me to help?” You nodded quickly, the fact that you were so needy stirred something inside him. One hand went to your nipple and he stroked your erect nipple with his thumb. “Then stay with me. Just tell me that you’ll be mine and I’ll give you what you want. Will you be alone with Mark, baby?” His big veiny cock inside you was driving you crazy, the pain and sensitivity of not being able to move inside you was making your eyes fill with tears, you muttered a curse. “Fuck- n-no I won’t, only you will fuck me.. only me- fuck Jaemin please..”

The look in his eyes changed instantly, his mocking look turning into a hunger for you and it didn’t take long for you to find yourself lying on your back. He lifted one of your leg up and wrapped it around his waist, and without waiting, he started to enter your pussy with a certain tempo, the pleasure you were finally getting made you moan, Jaemin leaned in and sucked on your lower lip "That's right baby, I'll be the only one fucking this beautiful pussy of yours. What a shame that fucking Mark won't be able to enjoy it." You laughed when you saw him smirk at the last sentence "You're crazy." He smiled in the same way "For this beautiful pussy? Damn I am." Your juices mixed with his, your breathing sounds bounced between the four walls, Jaemin moaned deeply and his movements became rougher. His cock hitting your pleasure point made you let out a loud moan, without you even having to speak, he knew he had found the right spot from the tightening of your pussy "Yeah? You like it? Good, every time you think about going to someone else, make sure that other dicks won't feel like this and think again." his cock that was constantly hitting your pleasure spot was making you moan and whine with each hit, after a few movements your stomach tightened, "I'm close.. Please.." Jaemin spread your legs and watched with his own eyes how he was destroying your pussy, he let out a deep groan at the sight, "Fuck." He cursed between his breaths.

He listened to all of your pleas from time to time with pleasure, you were only his and you would continue to be his, there was no other way. He should be the only one who had this beautiful body and you, the only one who could hear this beautiful voice, only he should know how your pussy felt, the beauty of your touches. "Are you going to cum? Hm? You were flirting with my best friend earlier and now you're going to do this? Fuck- I should have let Mark stay and watch this." he laughed hysterically, laughing at the fact that you were too busy moaning to respond, he slid his hand from your cheek and grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. "Don't even try to take your eyes off of me, do you hear me?" You nodded, he continued his movements without breaking eye contact, watched how you moaned with your mouth slightly open.

He hit your pleasure spot hard a few more times and finally felt the semen flowing from your pussy slide off his cock, then he pulled his cock out of you and pulled it a few times with his hand and cummed between your legs with a deep moan. He put his hand next to you to support himself, leaned over and kissed your lips, you looked at him, Jaemin reached his other hand up to your face and started caressing your cheek. "Let's end this stupid complicated relationship, just be mine."

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒!

(♡) - my personal favorites (🔞) - CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT

SPRING SNOW - @leaderwonim (in which married couple park sunghoon and park y/n are on their way to court to divorce when they suddenly get into a car crash, losing their memories entirely. over time, they start to fall inlove with each other all over again.)

FATAL TROUBLE - @gyuuberryy (your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go.)

THE FAKE DATING PACT - @jaeyunverse (in which ridiculous circumstances lead to a fake dating contract pact being struck between park sunghoon and you.)

THE HOT DAD NEXT DOOR - @wonryllis (the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.)

BLANK CANVAS - @h5eavenly (when black and white sorrows loom on your life park sunghoon - a man with a cruel heart and destructive hands manages to color your days with splashes of rainbow. at least at first.)

DELICATE - @misojunnie (when your father’s company cratered after a faulty business deal, a vendetta was formed between your family and the biggest export company in south korea. but that rivalry begins to falter when you fall in love with the ceo’s son.)

HEAVENLY - @sjyuns (park sunghoon has put a curse on you after smashing you heart into a million pieces — that you’d never be able to find anyone comparable to him. and now he’s back, cocky and flirty as ever to prove that he’s the only one you’d ever need.)

SAY IT, YOU'RE MINE - @sincerelyrki (your brother's best friend has always been there for you, even when you ask him to fake date you to make your ex back off.)

BREAKFAST WAFFLES AND FORGOTTEN DATE NIGHTS - @allforhee (dating sunghoon was like flipping two sides of a coin. on one side, it felt like you were dating the sweetest introvert known to man. but on another side, you felt like he was the loudest extrovert (and gamer) that ever lived. you tried living with it, in this little bubble. but when sunghoon starts acting sensitive and eventually forgets your anniversary, that fragile bubble finally bursts.)

望むままに, easy come

summary: kun tells you not to expect a reward for not touching yourself for ten days, but you think you deserve one anyway

word count: 3.88k

authors note: several things. first of all. hi! you understand I cannot be horny on main so i am in the amusing situation of having a side blog with one (1) smut fic about qian kun. will probably post more, inspiration has been hitting & the wayv tag is dry.

the second thing is i was in a million different headspaces when i wrote this so it might be crazy! i was horny for like three separate things and unwilling to separate them out!

edit: it’s a few days later & I’ve made some grammar edits 🫡 shouldn’t be too much of a difference

tags: afab reader, established relationship, soft dom!kun, gege kink, teasing, orgasm denial/control (?), face fucking, fingering, face sitting, pinv (no condom), masturbation (m), oral (f), oral (m), praise, lots of praise, reader is a little bratty, kun is a little mean and degrading (calls reader a slut) at the end but in the sexy way + then he’s nice again :-)

(kun/you)

It had started ten days ago.

Ten days ago, you’d been lying in bed with Kun, your fingers running through his wavy brown hair, gently massaging his head in your lap. He didn’t let you take care of him often, despite how much you knew he loved it. He’d acted like it was a favour to you, to take the edge off of him leaving for ten days. It wasn’t the longest you’d ever spent apart but it was enough to sting.

He’d slowly turned his head to face you, playfulness brewing in his dark eyes.

“My love,” he’d started. “Can you do something for me?”

“Probably,” you’d peered down at him as he shuffled out of your lap. “What do you have in mind?”

“For the next ten days,” his face was close to yours now, leaning closer as he muttered, “I don’t want you to touch yourself.”

You’d felt a familiar heat rising inside your chest. It was this sort of favour.

“Not even if I ask nicely?”

You’d done that before, texting or calling him before you got off. Asking for permission you knew he’d give. It had thrilled you, excited him. A little something to liven things up while he was gone.

“Mm-mm,” he’d muttered, forehead pressed against yours. “Not even if you beg.”

You’d felt his heat too, a very slight hesitance to his usually assured dominance. Ripples in the water. You’d known he would give in if you’d argued. And yet, the next words out of your mouth were:

“Ok, sure.”

He’d kissed your forehead and pulled back to grin at you, the hint of hesitation gone.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good girl.”

He’d moved back to settle in your lap again, but you’d pulled him back up, only in part because you weren’t in the mood to be teased about the wetness his words provoked.

“Nuh-uh, not so fast. What am I getting out of this?”

“And what if you don’t get anything, hm?”

“Hang on-“

“What if,” he was close again, lips pressed lightly against your neck, “I just want to be the last person to make you cum?”

He’d known he’d sealed his victory hearing you groan at his filthy words. Feeling the heat of your blushing cheeks.

“What if I can’t stand the idea of anyone, not even you,” he’d continued, pressing a firm hand between your legs, “touching what belongs to me?”

---

That was how you’d ended up in this situation.

It had been more difficult than you expected. Though, more than the sex (maybe as much as the sex? You really fucking missed the sex), you’d been missing his presence, his steadiness. The way he ended almost every sentence with ‘angel’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘princess’, ‘doll’ - no matter how much you teased him.

Crawling into bed shortly after midnight on the sixth day, he’d sent you a text.

Still awake, angel?

Just about. You're just off work?

Yeah

Poor thing :(( I miss you

I miss you too…

Hold on

I have something that might help

The typing dots faded away and a voice memo appeared. You’d settled back into bed and raised the speaker to your ear, expecting a corny lullaby or the sound of kisses, a string of I love yous, something sweet before you went to sleep.

You hadn’t expected the sound of him groaning your name among lewd grunts and the sound of faint slaps. In the face of this objective torment you’d called him and he’d picked up immediately.

“What’s up, princess?”

“Qian Kun,” you’d hissed into the receiver, “What about our promise?”

“Hmm,” he’d pretended to think, “I don’t remember anything about what I couldn’t do?”

“You-”

“Have you been keeping your promise, though?”

“Yes,” obviously, agonisingly, yes. Going from cumming at least once a day to not at all had been torture, fine. “But you-”

“What?”

“You know what you’re doing. To me. With that.”

He’d chuckled lowly at your obvious desperation. The sound drove you insane, ironically so, since you couldn’t do anything about the arousal that stirred between your legs.

“Yes,” he’d admitted, “I do. You’re just so cute when you’re frustrated like this.”

“Hate you.”

“Love you.”

Scrunching your face up at his cheerful tone, you’d mumbled, “Love you too.”

You’d endured few seconds of silence before he’d asked, “So, can I get back to what I was doing?”

“Wait,” you’d committed to humiliating yourself further, “Can I at least stay on the line while you finish?”

“Won’t that make it harder for you to keep your promise?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that what you want?”

---

Day ten. With his flight in the late evening and someone to drive him home, you were reduced to sitting around and waiting for the key to turn in the lock.

You’d decided around day three that you were going to look gorgeous when he got in. You knew what he liked. Something classy for him to ruin.

You’d picked out a satin nightgown that he’d fucked you in before, perfumed your neck, wrists, ankles, inner thighs. Put your hair up in a bun he could easily pull out.

He’d see you and fall to his knees.

Is it a little humiliating being so desperate? Maybe.

Is it turning you on even more? Yeah.

And you know this was exactly what he wants from you.

It’s while musing this that you hear the click of the lock.

“Kun!” You rise from your chair and move towards the door, you open it before he can push in and realise just too late how eager you look.

“Bags.” you reach out your arms, hoping he buys the cover, “Gimme.“

Kun steps into the entryway dropping his bags, smiling that stupid, gorgeous, sweet smile of his. You had missed him so much. He takes your outstretched arms as an invitation to wrap you in his own, spinning you around against the closed door.

“Hello to you too, my love” still chuckling, pressing kisses to the top of your head as you embrace.

Humming contentedly against his chest, taking him in, you mutter, “I missed you…”

He pulls away from the hug, strong hands still gripping your shoulders. You shudder as he regards you, as his expression changes, as his smile gets hungrier. As his eyes widen.

“All this for me?”

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.”

“Mm.” he grunts, pulling you roughly back into the embrace, pressing every part of you against him, “God. I missed you too.”

“I think I know for a fact that I missed you more,” you move your lips up to his neck, grazing your teeth against his warm flesh, “I think you made sure of that.”

He groans, you feel his bulge harden against you as you sink your teeth in, suck at his exposed neck, mark him up. A little revenge before your reward.

“You kept your promise?” He pulls back and smirks. The aching between your legs grows impossibly stronger.

“All for you. And it was really, really hard.”

"And you think you deserve a reward?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Mhm," you reply, draping your arms over his shoulders, "I know what you said... but I don't think you expected me to be so good..."

You swear you feel him shudder as his lips crash against yours, his tongue pushes in without hesitation, his own desperation driving you crazy. He pins you against the door with a toned arm - thank fucking god he’s wearing that tank top - as he licks and sucks and bites his way down your neck to your collarbone.

Your face is on fire - your whole body, actually, burning and aching and begging for more of what you’ve been daydreaming about for the past ten days. You buck against his arousal, hoping he won’t notice, hoping he will notice and take you right here against this door.

“Kun, please-”

“Please?” He mutters, woefully pulling away, playing the game you hate to love to play.

“Please. I need you.”

“Need me to what?” He coos, free hand rubbing a hardened nipple over the silk of your dress, eliciting a breathy moan. “Need you to say it for me, princess.” He asks again, voice low, a little stern.

“Jesus, Kun, fuck me.”

The words tumble out of your mouth and he halts his teasing to groan. “Fuck. Bedroom. Couch. Whatever you want. Now.”

You lead him to the bedroom, a chorus of finally finally finally ringing through your head. Whatever you want.

—-

You sprawl out on the bed, room dimly lit, air heavy with your combined heat, as Kun rummages in his bag for something unknown.

“Close your eyes.” He commands, not needing to look up to know you were obeying without hesitation. Your desire overpowers any instinct to disobey, you know you’re ready to take whatever he’ll give.

The darkness only heightens your arousal, your mind swimming with lust and possibility. You hear him approaching now, and the rustle of something being unwrapped.

“Damn, no forepla-“ you’re interrupted by something soft and sweet-smelling against your lips, pushing gently in.

“Chocolate?”

Your eyes shoot open to the familiar sight of Kun’s playful grin, kneeling next to you and smiling as if he’s pulled off something so devious. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You cannot stand him, in fact, that’s all you can say once you’ve swallowed the candy.

“I cannot stand you.”

“It’s good, right?”

You lick your lips. “Pretty good, yeah.”

He leans down to kiss you, licks the remaining chocolate off of your lips, making the stupid situation sexy.

“Something sweet for something sweet.”

You eagerly part your lips for him to slide his tongue inside, soft and sweet like the chocolate. A hand cups your face while the other roams down your clothed figure. Slowly, agonisingly down. He hums contentedly into your mouth as your breathy whines gain more substance. He stops between your legs, even the heat of his palm makes your head spin.

“Kun…” you groan again, eyelids fluttering open.

“Tell me what you want, love.”

“You… everything, god.” He cocks his head, coaxing a more specific request. You look up at him with pleading eyes. “Your tongue. Please?”

His hand presses firmly over your mound, your wetness soaking through the fabric. He looks almost dismayed.

“Shame to ruin something so beautiful…” you breathe a shaky breath at his acknowledgment, his praise, he continues, “but beautiful gets what beautiful wants."

Chuckling at your whines, he moves his hand down and under the hem of your dress, your nerves soaring with delight. He drags two fingers down your aching lips, coating them in your wetness. You already miss them when he pulls away to suck at your juices.

“So much for me, angel.” He groans, running his tongue up the length of his fingers, savouring every drop as he always does, like he needs this to live. You think he just might. The filthy sight imprints itself on your wide eyes. He taps the hem of your dress and lays down next to you.

“This needs to come off. And I need you to sit on my face. You’ll do that for me?”

You grin and roll over to kiss him, lightly running your tongue over his lips to taste yourself.

"Obviously."

You sit up and slip the dress over your head, pausing after to catch his eyes scanning your exposed form. He studies you like a painting, unable to hide the snarl of arousal on his face. You savour the attention for as long as you can stand to not be riding his tongue.

"Gorgeous... gorgeous, gorgeous. Get over here."

You don't need to be told twice.

You crawl over to the top of the bed and swing a leg over his head, bracing against the headboard for support. He spreads your folds with two fingers and makes a low, approving sound. You must be dripping into this mouth at this point.

“You’re comfortable?” You check.

“More than.”

You squeal as his free hand grabs at your hips and pulls you into his mouth. He pulls away his fingers as his tongue finds purchase on your clit, licking dizzying circles against you.

“Fuck- Kun- fuck.”

His tongue wanders elsewhere, down your folds to your entrance, which he lavishes full attention on coaxing open. He grips your hips with both hands, pulls you closer, his tongue travels deeper inside your warm, wet cunt. He groans, needy inside you, and bliss ripples through your core.

He takes turns with his attention - one second, he’s expertly fucking you with his tongue, the other he’s pulling out to coax out more of your essence with messy strokes against your throbbing clit.

A few rounds of this and your legs are shaking enough for him to notice, for him to grip you tighter. He moves his focus solely to your clit, alternating between firm laps and sharp sucking that just nearly sends you over the edge.

“Kun, there, stay there-”

He does as he’s told, pressing his tongue flat against your clit as you buck against it, the friction too much to bear.

“Gonna cum- fuck, fuck, cumming!” Your orgasm erupts inside you, bursting out of your mouth in ecstatic moans and cries. You lean your head against the headboard and close your eyes, seeing only white as you come down from the high.

Once you’re steady enough, you ease yourself off his face, still shaking a little as you clamber down. He sits up and offers an arm for you to curl into.

“Thank you, baby~” you hum against his neck, still flush from your climax.

He wipes you off his mouth with the corner of his shirt, offering you a glimpse of the slightly tanned skin underneath. Your eyes wander down to his blatant erection, a sight that has you aching again, already.

Your hand follows your eyes down to what you desire, but Kun bats it away before you get the chance to touch.

“Mm-mm,” he scolds, “I’m not done with you. I didn’t get a good enough view down there.”

Your eyes widen as he sits up further, dislodging you from your spot in the crook of his arm. He spreads his legs just wide enough for you to fit.

“In my lap, princess.”

Who were you to say no?

“At least take this off,” you hum and shuffle towards him, pulling impatiently at the tank top that clings to his chest. He smiles and relinquishes, tossing the stained shirt to the side of the bed. You press a kiss to his exposed stomach before shimmying into his lap.

You are suddenly very, very aware of the mirror at the foot of the bed.

“Now, spread your legs for me.”

You obey readily and wince at the confirmation that you are, in fact, dripping wet. Kun, on the other hand, is thrilled.

“You wanted everything, yeah?” He teases, lips against the back of your neck, “so now, you’ll take my fingers. And if you’re good, if you keep your eyes on the mirror, you’ll take my cock.”

His lewd promise overwhelms you, you want to squeeze your eyes shut already, but that wouldn’t be being good. You steady yourself on the sight of his lips pressed against your neck instead of the feeling of his exposed chest pressed against your back. Instead of the feeling of his big arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer, snaking downwards, prying you open and exposed.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Yes..?” He rubs teasing circles against your entrance, you know what he wants you to say.

“Yes. Gege.”

“Good girl,” you feel his cock harden against your back, almost digging into you as he plunges two fingers inside your aching cunt. You resist the urge to buck against his digits, knowing he likes to fuck you himself this way, that your pleasure is all his to claim.

“Such a good girl,” he rewards your efforts with sweet praise and hooks his chin over your shoulder to get a better look at the mess you’ve already made.

“Might have to add a third, hm?”

There’s no might about it. He stretches you open with a third finger and you whimper at the sight. You’re so dizzyingly full of him, you think you’d do just about to take his cock, to feel that fullness even more.

“Taking me so good, doll.” You throb around his fingers, already close again.

“Fuck, Kun- gege,” you correct your words before he can correct you himself. The last thing you need is him pulling his fingers out, making you beg.

His fingers curl inside you, pumping at a steady pace, rougher and faster with every filthy moan that escapes your mouth.

“That’s it, as loud as you need to be,” he growls against your neck, peppering you with kisses, “I’ve got you.”. You tilt your head back as he starts to suck at you, but he stops when he notices your eyes have strayed.

“Eyes forward, princess.”

You obey swiftly enough that he returns to his task. He rewards you with bites and sucks in places you know will be visible tomorrow. You’re so beyond caring.

He feels you tighten around his fingers and he thumbs at your clit, his eyes wide and focused on the reflection of your throbbing cunt in the mirror. He makes sure you’re watching him watch you, watching your orgasm undo you again, clenching tightly around his fingers. He keeps a steady pace until your frantic moans get softer and breathier.

He pulls out his long, dripping fingers when he’s sure you’ve come down. Still, you shudder at the sensation.

Kun toys with the strands of your cum between his fingers, eyes glazed with arousal before sucking them dry. Like you didn’t just fuck his mouth, like you can’t still smell yourself on his breath. He folds you into his arms again, softly now.

“Knew you could do it,” he mutters, tone laced with gentle admiration, “for ten days. Knew you’d be so good for me. Mine, all mine.”

You groan affectionately, turning to face him. Still wrapped in his arms, the angle presses his hardness against your thigh.

“Yeah?” you tease, “You knew that when you stroked your cock on the phone for me?”

“Ah, well,” he smiles his big, perfect smile, a hint of embarrassment on his cheeks, “I couldn’t help myself. I don’t know what I was thinking…”

“Mm”, you hum, “I think you knew exactly what you were thinking.”

He cocks an eyebrow, releases you from his arms as you shimmy free.

“I think you were thinking about me,” you perch between his legs, start to unbutton his pants. He doesn’t stop you this time. “I think you were wishing your hand was my tongue, that I was there to suck you off.”

He lifts his hips at your indication, watching your face closely, adoringly, as you slide his trousers and his boxers down past his ankles. He watches your eyes scan his length hungrily.

“And I think, even though you were soooo mean to me.” you pout, “I want to give you just that. Gege.”

“Please,” he consents.

His tone says, by all means, do whatever you want, but his eyes tracking your every movement, darkening at your lewd words, say please, for the love of god, suck my cock already.

You’re not one to disobey.

He groans, needy, the moment you take his shaft into your hand and wrap your lips around the tip, making sure he’s watching as you move further down his length.

“That’s it,” he sighs, “so good at that, so good for me.”

His praise sends shivers down your spine but that’s not what you want, he’s still thinking about your pleasure. All you want in this moment is for him to give in to his own desires.

“Gege,” you look into his eyes, freeing your mouth to beg, “use me, use my mouth, my throat, let me make you feel good.”

With that word you can get him to do whatever you want.

You know he wouldn’t have taken much convincing anyway, the eagerness with which he shoves his cock down your throat.

It never takes long, once he gives in to his own pleasure, for the switch to flip, for his words to get darker, filthier, more degrading. It makes you even more desperate to please him.

“God, you like that, don’t you? Like feeling like a slut for me?”

You have no way of answering. You gag as his cock hits the back of your throat and he groans, deep and guttural, repeating the motion over and over.

“That’s it,” he coos, “so good for me, so good. Letting me use your pretty little mouth, begging for it, even.” You meet his gaze as he talks down to you and your big, doe eyes drive him wild.

“Good girl, I’ve missed the things you do for me.”

He’s less controlled now, not at all focussed on how you’re feeling, using you like a fucktoy. You whimper and whine around his length and he lets out an unrestrained growl.

“Fuck, you want me to cum in your mouth, baby?”

You tap his hips, a signal for him to pull out and stop, which he does, immediately.

“Too rough?” His eyes filled with concern somehow make you hornier. Something to address later.

“No, no.” you assure him, “Inside me. I need you to cum inside me.”

The concern fades, replaced with a familiar hunger that makes you just as ravenous. “You’ll cum with me, yeah? Cum around me, milk my cock?”

“Yes, gege, yes.”

He kneels, pushing you onto your back, spreading your legs. His cock is glistening with saliva and precum, enough to make you drool.

You lay back expectantly and he positions himself over you, floppy bangs brushing your forehead. Too impatient to tease any further, he rubs his tip up and down your wet folds and eases himself inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” whines come rushing out of you as his thick cock stretches you out. He pants into your mouth as he picks up his speed. You wish it could last forever, but you’re both too desperate to draw it out any longer.

“Faster, harder, please-” you beg, nearing your third orgasm of the night. “I’m gonna cum-“

“Fuck, angel, so needy.” Not that he can say much. He’s close too, all he needs is for you to cum around him, you know he’s holding back just for you.

“You’re gonna cum?” He pants and quickens his pace even further, “You’re gonna cum for me? Cum around my cock, babygirl? Cum for me, let me hear it.”

Soon after your warning you practically scream, music to his ears, pleasure and overstimulation washing over you in waves.

It doesn’t take much of your warm hole clenching around him to reach his own climax. He reaches for your hips and pins you down, making sure you take every last drop of his release. Making sure you feel how much he wants you.

“God, god.” You watch his face screw up in ecstasy. In that moment unable to understand why he calls you gorgeous when he looks like this.

You would have happily waited ten more days for Qian Kun.

i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this)

PAIRING. chenle x fem!reader

CATEGORY. one shot social media au, fluff, crack/humor, fake dating, best friends to lovers

WARNINGS. language, chenle and y/n are very unserious, 30 panels!

SYNOPSIS. conversations with your best friend turned fake boyfriend, zhong chenle.

NOTES. ok rlly quick before u read i forgot to change ningning’s username 😭 that account was from a diff au i was writing before where she was supposed to be chenle’s sister but yeah (also sorry it’s really long but i didnt want to make mulitple parts 😭🙏🏼) anw … i have no idea where this idea came from but enjoy! :p

NOTE. hi this is my first time writing for chenle lmk what u think!!! 🥹🫶🏼

TAGLIST. @radiorenjun @bluejaem @pink-but-rosie @renjun-pretty @holdinbacksecrets @rynshyuckies @jelllyjae @jenyongcas @whyisquill @beemarkie @morkxlee @hibuki-chan @moonwalkun @lyyhyuck @baekhyunstruly @lilacdreams-00 @ridinhyuck @archivedmkl @najaeminluvbot @rensiu @morkleetrash @neo444 @hrjchive @keemburley @soobin-chois @yiz-yo @juune04 @nctasdfghj @studywoo @jun5ui @smolpeyy @kkotjia @yoonhanzjaem @en-boys @stopeatread @goldryush @hibernatinghamster @shwizhies @zgzgzh @bbymatz @eyantice @w0nderr @dinonuguaegi @neozon3nha @mnlylonely

don't wannna wait on it (m)

> summary: if it’s a crime to want to have sex at every opportunity with your incredibly sexy boyfriend then you’ll gladly accept your sentence. > pairing : na jaemin x fem!reader > genres & aus: established relationship au, non!idol au, smut, porn with absolutely no plot, the occasional small fluff bits because i’m me rating: 18+ [MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED] > warnings/content: car sex, rough sex, clit & tit slapping, dirty talk, pet names (baby girl/pretty girl/slut), unprotected sex, creampie, one mention of a ‘sir’ kink, lowercase writing > words: 3.6k > note: hi i’m back?! 🫣 this was not something in my wips nor was it a request. i didn’t even plan on writing for the dreamies anytime soon but na jaemin is my all consuming sleep paralysis demon and i’m unbearably whipped for him so this happened over the weekend when i was high and staring at pictures of him so surprise~🧍🏽‍♀️ thank you to my love @horanghater for beta reading this and always being my biggest cheerleader 🩷❤️

he smiles that megawatt, heart-stopping smile at you. the corners of his mouth quirk up, lush pink lips stretching over two rows of perfect teeth. jaemin’s smile has always been your favorite physical feature on him.

“yes, of course, i love the rest of you!”

“but what about-”

“yea jaem - that includes your dick.” is usually some variation of how the conversation would go between the two of you when you complimented his smile. of course he knows you love him, and that you’re in love with him, but who would he be if he didn’t whine his way into getting more compliments from you?

jaemin’s smile is something that needs to be immortalized in a mural on the sistine chapel ceiling, or however, the damn saying goes.

it’s hard to remember much when he’s fucking your last remaining brain cells out of you..

“if only you could see yourself right now, baby girl - so fucked out you can’t even focus on me for more than a second,” jaemin sighs at you, eyes focused on the way your eyes cross and mouth twists in a choked cry.

you wanted so badly to strike back with something sassy, but his thumb has moved to stroke your clit just the way you like and the breath is knocked out of you.

jaemin’s left hand, the one gripping your thigh like a lifeline as it hangs limply around his waist, shifts downward to the back of your knee. he lifts your leg to drape it over his shoulder. his cock wedges deeper into you, the sensation completely blocking out the way your knee hits the roof of the car on the way up.

in the very back recesses of your brain you conjure enough sense to be happy that jaemin had driven your suv out tonight. fucking him in his sedan would’ve been doable, but a little trickier.

you would know since he has in fact, fucked you in his car before. comfort makes all the difference.

it had been him that needed you that night, the dress you’d worn for jeno’s birthday party at his favorite club making it impossible for jaemin not to watch you all night. just seeing you standing and talking to your group of friends had him locked in, his heavy gaze watching your every move. when he finally got his hands on you, he could only focus on dancing with you for a single song before he was dirty talking you out of the club and onto your hands and knees in the backseat of his bmw.

tonight, it just so happened to be your turn to shamelessly ogle your boyfriend like a woman starved.

in your defense, it is literally his fault. he’d been teasing you all day.

your boyfriend had taken it upon himself to wake you up this morning by crawling between your legs and rousing you out of your sleep with his lips attached to your clit. apparently, he missed you so much while you were asleep he couldn’t wait to have a taste of you as soon as his eyes opened.

you didn’t have a problem with it, nor did you have a problem with the way his hands took every opportunity to find your hips, your side, your ass, or your hands with his own as the day went on. you cleaned your shared apartment before getting ready for your friends’ housewarming gathering later and jaemin couldn’t keep his hands off of you - again, not that it was a bad thing.

what did end up being a bad thing - for you at least - is how wound up he left you, only to leave the house for your outing tonight looking like the sexiest man on the planet (as if he didn’t already do that every day).

jaemin wore dark denim jeans and a casual blazer - a very normal outfit in your opinion.

except, under his blazer was a form-fitting tank top. the get-together was only a handful of friends and the hosts made it clear it was an extremely casual time so neither of you had to worry over an outfit to wear. still, the moment jaemin decided to take his blazer off and you watched as his shoulders, arms, and the thick vein that runs up his bicep whenever he flexed became visible, you wished he had worn a three-piece suit instead.

how the hell were you supposed to be normal when he had riled you up so much over the course of the day? and of course, even in the car ride over, he had let his hand rest on your bare thigh, fingertips casually resting just under the bottom of your skirt. you wanted more than anything for him to creep those thick fingers up the rest of the way and find their way into your panties.

he didn’t though, he instead talked about how excited he was for donghyuck and his partner, your best friend, to have finally been able to get their own house. it made jaemin talk wistfully about when the two of you would do the same. your heart would normally be fluttering in your chest at how sweet your boyfriend of four years is and how much it made you fall even more in love with him when he talked about your future together.

and while yes, you were feeling that giddiness, your pussy was also throbbing, panties sticking uncomfortably against you as his fingers danced on your skin, but made no move upwards.

so, again, it was hardly your fault that you needed him so badly. that’s why, at some point in the night, you simply lost all decorum. it was when jaemin came into the kitchen while you were trying to decide which appetizer to distract yourself with. he was still just in his undershirt and had the nerve to smile at you.

“hey, beautiful,” he immediately came over to place a kiss on your cheek. your back was to him so he casually draped himself over you, back-hugging you as he surveyed the food options. “having fun?”

you hummed in affirmation, suddenly getting distracted as he pressed into you, reaching over your body to grab a slice of pizza. his chest was so solid behind you, his warmth striking the match that was your overwhelming thirst for him.

“yeah, but i’d be having more fun if you were fucking me right now.”

jaemin’s eyes widened, head tilting as he studied you. “oh yeah?” he sounded genuinely intrigued. “and where is that coming from?”

rolling your eyes, you scoffed at him, pushing your ass back into his bulge behind you, jaemin letting a grunt sound in his throat.

“you’ve been messing with me since you woke me up!” he smirked at the memory, obviously not sorry one bit. “then, you spent the whole day groping me like a perv!”

he gasped, “first of all, i’m offended that me wanting skinship with my girlfriend whom i love so much makes me a perv!”

“still! and then you walk around this house in this tight shirt with your arms just out!”

“is it not warm in here?! it’s not my fault donghyuck won’t let us turn the aircon lower!”

you flipped around, wrapping your arms around his waist, surprising him again.

“jaem, please can we go home? i need you so bad,” you gave him your best puppy-dog eyes, jutting your lip out for good measure. jaemin’s willingness to give into you would typically depend on how nice or how mean he was feeling that day.

unfortunately for you, it was obvious he wasn’t going to give you what you want anytime soon. a downright devilish smirk overtook him as he pressed against you, his bulge pressing into your belly. your grip on his waist tightened as you felt in real time, his dick hardening against you.

“honestly, i had no idea i was getting you so flustered, baby girl,” one of his hands moves to hold your waist, grinding against you once more. “but now that i know, i think instead of leaving now, it’ll be much more fun to make you wait until later.” as soon he says that, he snatches his hold on you away, separating your bodies before you can grab at him again.

“jaemin!” you pout, arms falling to your side.

“besides, it would be rude to leave our friends’ gathering celebrating this milestone in their lives! you wouldn’t want to do that, right sweetheart?” you cross your arms. that was true - you didn’t want to leave the celebration early just to run off and have sex with your boyfriend - even if your body was practically buzzing at the sight of jaemin just standing in front of you. “plus, sometimes i just love making you unbearably horny. you get so fucking desperate for me.”

he had the nerve to giggle at the scoff you let out as he blew you a kiss and left the kitchen.

and you hate how right he was. you were so pathetically desperate for him. you kept your eyes on him all night and quickly got tired of just looking, so you decided to flip the script on him, using every excuse you got to touch or rub up on him.

your ass rubbed against him as you inserted yourself into a conversation with he and jeno. your nail scraped across his firm chest as you scooted past him to get to the bathroom. you made sure to grip the highest part of his thigh when for “stability” as you rose from the couch to go talk to a friend.

it was partially to tease him right back and partially to fulfill your scorching need to feel him up. you were admittedly shameless in your lust for him, but so what? if it’s a crime to want to have sex at every opportunity with your incredibly sexy boyfriend then you’ll gladly accept your sentence.

by the time the night was over and goodbyes were shared, you knew your actions were anything but criminal.

“just so you know, when we get home i’m going to do so much more than eat your slutty little cunt out,” he says low enough for only you to hear, which combined with the way his fingertips dug into your lower back as he walked you to the car, was anything but a punishment.

excitement coursed through your veins - when jaemin started to say absolutely filthy things to you before using his soft words as foreplay, you knew he wanted you in more of a carnal way than anything slow and drawn out. he needed you then just as badly as you had needed him.

“oh yeah?” you mused, pretending to be surprised by his admission. you unabashedly smiled up at him, amused by the way he frowned back in response.

“yeah,” he said simply, opening your passenger door, holding your hand as you stepped up and in, not saying another word.

you had known he was going to fuck your brains out when you got home, but what you hadn’t known was that he’d decide he couldn’t wait anymore. that instead of waiting to bend you in half at home in your bed, he was going to pull onto a side road on the way home and do it. the road was still under construction, so it was a dead end with no one nearby, all the workers having gone home for the night.

jaemin drives his hips into the backs of your thighs faster, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing against the fogged-up windows.

“ja-aemin!” your back arches up when he takes his thumb away from your clit to readjust your hips on the seat.

he tuts at you, his hand quickly moving back between you to smack at your clit, the sting pushing a squeal out of you.

“patience, my slutty baby. i’m making sure you don’t fall.” he smacks your bud again, hand going back to your hips and forcefully slowing your movement down. he ignores your pleas and protests for him to do anything other than stop.

“jaemin, no no no no please!”

“fuck i love when you beg for me like this. my pretty, needy girl.”

“yes, yes, jaem please, i’m so needy.”

jaemin bites his lip, slowly rotating his hips. it’s not fast enough to give you any relief from the pressure building in your stomach and you whine out louder in frustration.

“needy for what exactly?” he’s teasing you because of course he is.

“you, jaemin!”

“what about me?”

“oh my god, jaemin, your dick! i need your dick and i need you to fuck me and make me cum! please!” you’re more irritated when you say it, your orgasm having been taken from you.

“i know, i just like to hear you say it,” jaemin chuckles.

“you’re so annoying!” you grunt, trying to move your hips to set the pace yourself. instead, jaemin presses them down into the cloth seats, leaning over your body to bring his face directly in front of you.

you stop your squirming to gasp, surprised by his proximity. his dark eyes sweep over your face before he’s leaning down to kiss you, plump lips moving against yours with hunger and determination. you instantly kiss him back, eyes slipping closed as jaemin’s tongue caresses yours, both of you sighing into the other. jaemin reaches up to cradle your head and he deepens the kiss, but only for a few more seconds. he pulls away, giggling at the tiny “noooooooo” you whimper, going so far as to kick your legs the best you could, throwing a tantrum.

jaemin coos at you, sitting up straighter. his hands skillfully reach for the buttons on your blouse, undoing them with little effort and pulling your bra up, making sure your tits fall out the bottom and tucking the unneeded fabric under your chin.

“jaem! i’m going to die if you don’t finish what you started!”

jaemin brings a heavy hand down, smacking your right tit, making you scream. “hush, brat! i wanted to see your tits while i fuck you.”

you humph at him, turning your head to look away from him with an attitude.

jaemin rolls his eyes as he repositions himself, slowly entering your waiting pussy again, and watches as your eyelids flutter closed, frown melting away as your mouth opens.

“you’re lucky i need to fill you up now or else i’d make you wait till we’re home.”

you barely hear him as inch-by-inch of jaemin slides into you until he’s bottomed out, stretching your walls out as if he hadn’t just been pumping into you minute ago.

jaemin carefully positions both legs over his shoulders, bending down into your space, both to witness the stunning expressions he’ll get you to make up close and to not risk hitting his head on the roof of your car.

the position allows it to feel as though jaemin fills you up even more, crowding so close to you that all you see, all you hear, all you smell is jaemin. if you lean up close enough, you may be able to kiss him again so you can taste jaemin too.

that stops being an option once he finally starts to move his hips and thrusts into you, wasting no time to ease you into it. jaemin grinds into you with a force that makes the car start to shake again.

“shit - jaem!”

“feel good, baby girl?”

“so so good!”

jaemin shuffles his lower half closer to you, pushing you further up the seat with each rough thrust. he manages to lean closer to pepper your faces in sloppy kisses with each snap of his hips.

“so fucking beautiful,” jaemin groans, the blunt nails on his left hand dig into the sensitive skin of your thighs as he bullies his cock into your sopping pussy harder, harder, and harder again, your cries for him nothing but incomprehensible nonsense at this point.

when the positioning of his hips changes an inch, it’s just enough to have the fat head of his cock knocking into your g-spot over and over again.

“fuuuuck! yes, right there jaem baby, right there!” you shriek, nails digging into his thick biceps as you cling to them, your head spinning with pleasure.

“open your eyes, pretty girl,” jaemin nearly growls. “look at me when you cum.”

it feels almost impossible, but you do as you’re told, prying your teary lashes open to meet jaemin’s gaze. you’re greeted with the sight of your boyfriend, eyes dark, pupils blown out as he stares you down. his black hair is sticking to his face as a few sweat droplets trail down the side of his face and drip, making his beautiful, honeyed skin glow. 

your eyes follow, catching sight of the way his gold chain dangles over you as he snakes his hand between your bodies again, this time returning his fingers to your aching clit, twisting and rubbing harsh circles into the sensitive bud with a purpose.

“jaem…baby, i-i i’m so close. s-so close!”

“yeah? gonna cum for me baby girl?”

“mmhmm!”

“gonna be my good girl and make a mess for me to clean up when we get home?” jaemin’s words are strained, his own end also approaching.

“yes! anything please, jaem, just wanna cum! can i, please?”

“only if you look at me while you do,” he commands, pulling your gaze away from his sculpted chest.

when your eyes lock with his, jaemin immediately smiles at you again, this time in the cocky, self-assured way he always does when he watches you breaking down and falling to pieces for him.

“cum for me, pretty girl. come on and cream all over my fat cock,” jaemin demands, finger pressing against your clit at the same time that his cock drills into your spot for the final time needed to have your toes curling and vision turning white as you cum, nails nearly breaking skin on jaemin’s arms as you do.

through the static filling your ears, you can hear his moans getting louder and high-pitched.

he keeps his heavy eyes locked on you until he can’t anymore and his body stutters, then he’s cumming hard, lids clenching shut as ropes of white warmth fill your hole and drip out around jaemin’s twitching dick.

he rests his head against your chest, his sweaty hair making your bare skin itch. even so, you let him stay for a few more minutes, enjoying the warmth of his breath with each exhale.

eventually, you have to call his name a few times, tapping the top of his head. he doesn’t respond at first, so you have to shake him harder and he finally sits up.

“hmm?”

“were you asleep?!”

“no, but i didn’t wanna leave. your tits are so soft,” jaemin pouts, hands cupping both of your breasts and squeezing. he almost gets you - your head nearly lolling back as his thumbs roll over your nipples.

you fight it though, pinching his side which makes him yelp.

“you can play with my tits when you get us home if we leave right now.”

your boyfriend sighs, but straightens himself up, gingerly pulling his softening length out of you. he can’t help but hesitate to watch in fascination when his cum leaks out from between your puffy pussy lips, only looking away when you close your legs.

“babeeeeee!”

“babe nothing! home now!” you push him away with your foot and sit up to pull your skirt down.

“fine, but you better hold all my cum inside you till we get there. i need to fuck it back into you.”

you pretend to think, jaemin making eye contact with you through the rearview mirror when you hesitate. “mmm okay…but only if you promise to fill me up again right after.” jaemin lets out a huff through his nostrils, throwing the car into drive.

“seatbelt, baby,” he tells you, waiting for you to do so before he peels away. “good girl.”

the timber of his voice has you clenching around nothing, already missing the heaviness of jaemin stretching your walls to their limit.

“anything for you, sir.” the words are sticky sweet and jaemin has to count to five because he’s sure he’ll explode if you keep it up.

“you love playing with me, don’t you?” jaemin mumbles through gritted teeth, wishing more than anything that red lights were never invented as he slows to a stop, traffic laws delaying him in getting to his destination.

“i do. not my fault i always wanna fuck my gorgeous boyfriend.” you lean up when you speak, placing a kiss on the shell of his ear.

“fuck baby…” he trails off, getting momentarily distracted when your tongue starts licking up the side of his neck, your teeth biting down on his shoulder. he refocuses when you pull away, smiling flirtatiously at him in the mirror. “it’s a good thing then that i love fucking my gorgeous girlfriend, huh?” he looks at you for a second longer before stepping on the gas when the light turns green.

“it’s because we’re perfect for each other.”

you see jaemin’s reflection in the driver’s side window and catch him smiling wide - the sight prompting you to do the same.

“yeah, i guess we are,” jaemin concludes, still smiling as he makes a turn, your apartment only a few blocks away. you watch his reflection, loving his smile as you always do, but you also can’t wait to see the way he’ll smile down at you when you get home and you get his dick in your mouth.

jaemin’s smile is your favorite feature of his - no matter how you’re making him do it.

net tag: @kbookshelf

tddyhyck’s masterlist

fics

lee jeno [ l.jn ]

one-shots

⇢ golden boy [ boyfriend!jeno x afab!reader ] w.c. 4.9k

summary ⇢ jeno is your sweet lovely attentive boyfriend who takes care of you publicly and privately

drabbles/prompts

⇢ threes company [ jeno x afab!reader x jaemin ] w.c. 1.7k

prompt ⇢ “how do you feel about two at once?”

⇢ kit kat [ jeno x afab!reader ] w.c. 1.5k

prompts ⇢ “stop doing that.” + “come here, sit on my lap til i’m finished.”

lee donghyuck [ l.dh ]

one-shots

⇢ ice cream thief [ hyuck x afab!reader ] w.c. 12.8k

summary ⇢ someone’s been stealing haechan’s ice cream

⇢ has never went to oovoo javer [ hyuck x afab!reader ] w.c. 4.1k

summary ⇢ hooking up with the uber driver

na jaemin [ n.jm ]

drabbles/prompts

⇢ threes company [ jeno x afab!reader x jaemin ] w.c. 1.7k

prompt ⇢ “how do you feel about two at once?”

zhong chenle [ z.cl ]

drabbles

⇢ what’s your fantasy? [ chenle x afab!reader ] w.c. 2.9k

summary ⇢ chenle has a kink he’s a little nervous to share with you

park jisung [ p.js ]

drabbles/prompts

⇢ baby doll [ jisung x reader ] w.c. 1k

prompt ⇢ “YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING”

text reactions/headcannons

ot7

“would you be cottagecore lovers with me if i asked?”

as situationships

texting them when there’s a bug

texting them about going sex free

when you scratch their back

just the tip

in the next room

mark lee [ l.mk ]

horny boyfriend / pt.2

perv!mark

huang renjun [ h.rj ]

horny boyfriend / pt. 2

perv!renjun

lee jeno [ l.jn ]

horny boyfriend / pt. 2

perv!jeno

comments he makes during sex

lee donghyuck [ l.dh ]

horny boyfriend / pt.2 / pt. 3

perv!hyuck

na jaemin [ n.jm ]

horny boyfriend / pt. 2

perv!jaemin

zhong chenle [ z.cl ]

horny boyfriend

perv!chenle

comments he makes during sex

park jisung [ p.js ]

horny boyfriend

perv!jisung

© tddyhyck

MATCH OUR HEARTS! huang renjun

being a love consultant is definitely a one of a kind job, but hey, all that matters is that you like it! even if that means hearing all sorts of stuff from your clients…

renjun, on the other hand, is a peaceful bakery owner… well, he was peaceful until he fell in love with this girl that visits the bakery almost every day! he’s liked her for a while but he can’t bring himself to confess and he doesn’t have the slightest clue about love… so his friends come up with the genius idea that he should go to a love consultant.

but falling for the love consultant was not on his list when he requested your help.

────────────

— pairing: bakery owner!renjun x fem!reader

— genres: social media au (smau), written, friends to lovers, brother’s best friend, fluff, a lil bit of angst

— extra: renjun falls first, haechan is protective over y/n, renjun has no idea what he’s doing when it comes to flirting or love, renjun does embarrassing shit by accident, y/n and haechan r freaky asl (personality wise), renjun kinda hates y/n at the start

— warnings: death jokes, sex jokes, profanity, suggestive?

— playlist: Love Theory - TAEYONG, Wonstein | Bambi - BAEKHYUN | Psychic - LAY | New Ride - WayV | Perfect - One Direction | By My Side - JUNNY | Polaroid Love - ENHYPEN

— author's note: my 3rd smau wowowow guys… 😭 i don’t have many words to share but this will be a very cute smau… also i got inspired by the sims 4 love struck expansion pack + love theory by taeyong for this smau LMAO

— status: ongoing

— taglist: open!

────────────

profiles 1 | profiles 2 | profiles 3

1. 5 pleasurable specimens and the edging club

2. haechan public execution when

3. woman repellent

— to be continued…

IN PRIVATE - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: stepdad! heeseung & stepdaughter! fem reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral, dirty talk, cursing, jealousy, infidelity, spanking, cum eating, finger sucking, fingering, daddy kink, stepcest.

Synopsis: when your plans for a night out with your friends get ruined because your stepdad caught you sneaking out past midnight and had to teach you a lesson in private with more than just his words.

WC: 4,362k

-

You were in your room when the clock struck eleven, putting the finishing touches on yourself and getting together for a night out at the club with your friends. Your mom was sound asleep, and so was your stepdad. Not to say he really mattered, though, cause he wasn’t your real dad, so he couldn’t stop you, but you couldn’t let him know either in case he told your mom. If she found out, you’d surely be grounded. Even though you were an adult, you still lived under her roof, so you had to play by her rules. You couldn’t wait to move and get her out of your hair. She always constantly told you what to do and what she wanted you to be when you grew up, and you were sick of her dictating every move you made, hence why you’re sneaking out behind her back so you wouldn’t have to hear her mouth.

The meet-up was at 12, but you and your friends were going to take a few shots beforehand to get the night started right.

You shut off your lights and closed your door quietly, tiptoeing down the steps so you wouldn’t wake either of your parents.

Once you got to the bottom, you halted in your spot when you saw your stepdad sitting on the couch with the TV on.

You thought he would have been asleep by now; he usually always was, but tonight, it was just your luck that he wasn’t.

You had hoped he might have gone to sleep watching TV, but your hopes quickly vanished when he turned his head in your direction after he heard the clank of your heels coming from upstairs.

You grimaced as you made eye contact with him he was the first to break it as he eyed your outfit up and down. “And where do you think you’re going young lady?” Grabbing the remote, he shuts off the TV, turning his attention to you instead.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Out,” you answered plainly, walking further into the living room so your mother couldn’t hear you both talk from upstairs.

He chuckles, obviously amused by your dismissive reply. “I can see that,” he replies, looking at you from head to toe, this time noting how revealing your clothes are. “Out where?” He cocks a brow slinging his arm over the back of the sofa.

“None of your business,” you say, clearly annoyed by him.

“I suppose it isn’t, but I’m sure your mom wouldn’t be happy if I just let you walk outside at midnight dressed like that.” he points to your clothing.

“First of all, I don’t care about what would make my mom happy, and second, how am I dressed exactly?” You twirled a piece of your hair, leaning against the wall, waiting for this interrogation to be over with.

“Don’t talk like that about your mom.” Your stepdad stood up facing you, acting like he was displeased by your words, but in reality, he didn’t care. “And as far as your outfit..” he paused shamelessly, looking you over, and damn, you looked so good. “Looks like you’re just begging to be fucked” he chuckled softly.

“And what if I am begging to be fucked?” You say in a sultry tone, and he smirks while shaking his head cause of your boldness.

“You’re not going out anywhere tonight. Just go back to your room and go to bed,” he ends it there, but you didn’t cause you were going out tonight, and that was final. You already had plans, and he wasn’t going to ruin them.

“You’re not even my real dad, so why do you care so much?” You say, getting agitated with him at this point.

“I don’t care. All I know is you’re not going out like that,” he swallows thickly, his eyes locked on your thighs. Your shorts hugged them so nicely that all he could think about was kissing, biting, and sucking on them before diving in and eating. Your pretty pussy, he knows it's pretty too. He can tell by the outline of your supple lips protruding out of your jean shorts.

You step towards him and poke him on his chest with your index finger. “Mind. Your. Business. Stepdad,” you said with each poke, putting emphasis on stepdad and letting him know he had zero say in what you did.

“Don’t provoke me.” he inhales a deep breath, trying to hold back. He could feel himself finally slipping after months of watching you prance around in the most revealing clothing you owned. He just couldn’t contain it anymore, especially with the way you were acting right now. He needed to fuck that nasty little attitude right out of you and show you that he was way more than just your stepdad.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You taunt, pushing his chest again to instigate him, seeing just how far he’d go. You’ve seen him staring at your private parts more times than you can count, and you were curious to know if he was ever going to act out on the things that you obviously knew he was thinking about you. “Spank me?” You giggle.

Whatever patience he had finally wore thin; there was no point in talking. He wasn’t gonna sit here and let you get away with this any longer. “As a matter of fact, I will bad little girls like you need to be taught a lesson…” before you have time to process his words, he’s throwing you over his shoulder effortlessly and landing a harsh spank on your ass as he takes you back upstairs to your room. “In private”

Read full story HERE!

-

under his desk. (m)

pairing: ceo!johnny x afab!reader

words: 7.4k+

summary: you discover your new boss has a secret hidden up his sleeve.

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: talks of violence, reader is jaehyun’s sister, rough sex, slight breeding kink, sir kink, public sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, mentions of throat fucking

“I need a job.”

Jaehyun’s mouth is wide open, spoon hovering over a bowl of soup, inches away from sitting on his tongue. His eyes dart up to see your anxious expression, eyebrows pulled together. He sighs, resting his spoon back down before leaning back in his chair.

“So this is why my sister finally reaches out to have dinner with me,” Jaehyun says, running a hand down his face exasperatedly.

“Come on, Jae,” you plead, fingers twisted in the napkin on your lap. A large chandelier hovers over the two of you, illuminating the disappointment gracing Jaehyun’s face. “You know I would never ask you for a favor like this unless I really have to.”

He observes the serious look on your face. It’s been years since you’ve reached out to him, the two of you losing touch after you parted ways when graduating from university. Your brother set off to a successful career in finance, climbing rank until he was nearly at the top, making an enormous amount of money that he had no clue what to do with. You were the opposite, chasing your dream of writing at a huge publishing firm, only to be met with disappointment by a few odd jobs and barely enough cash to cover the bills. You never asked Jaehyun for help even though you both knew you needed it.

He has a contemplative air cast around him, fingers rubbing at his chin lightly.

“I don’t know anyone in the writing world-“

“It doesn’t have to be that,” you immediately interject. You don’t care if he can smell the desperation across the table. “I’ve given up on that dream. I just need something stable, something I don’t have to make backup plans for if it falls through.”

He sighs again. “There is something, but it’s not easy-“

“I’ll take it, Jae. Please, I promise I won’t fuck this up.”

He stares at you for a while, taking in the hunger in your eyes. He hasn’t seen you like this since you graduated, proclaiming that you would become a best-selling writer before the year’s end. Now, you’re simply a girl crushed by the weight of your dreams and chasing a solid figure in your bank account.

“Let me see what I can do.”

—

You straighten your skirt for the umpteenth time, clutching the clipboard to your chest for dear life. The stiletto heels are digging into your feet but you keep your toes as straight as possible, trying your best to look like you know what you’re doing.

The door flies open and you take a deep breath. Johnny Suh walks by you without a word, taking his seat at his desk before finally sparing you a glance. His eyebrow raises at your appearance but he says nothing else.

“Good morning, sir,” you say with a smile. “I have your morning reports here and your daily schedule. Which would you like first?”

“My coffee.”

You pause, the smile slipping off of your face. “Y-Your coffee?”

He’s not amused in the slightest. “Black, no sugar. I expect it on my desk as soon as I walk into this room.”

“Yes, sir.”

A few beats pass. “Well?”

You stumble, racing for the door and exiting his office. You calculate there is absolutely no way you could make it to a coffee shop and be back on time, instead heading for the break room. You exhale as you place an empty cup under one of the high tech machines, waiting patiently as it brews for you.

“You’re the new assistant, aren’t you?” A voice questions. Another man walks into the room, taking a cup for himself and occupying another machine. He outstretches his hand to you. “I’m Doyoung.”

You shake his hand and smile politely, offering your name.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, watching as you carefully take the brewed cup of black coffee from the machine and search for a lid. “How’s the boss so far?”

You chuckle dryly. “Well, it’s my first day and I already forgot his coffee, so I can confidently say it’s not going well.”

He throws you an apologetic look. Before you can exit, he speaks again. “In my experience, Johnny favors resilience over anything. If you can show him that you’re serious about this without making a fuss, then he’ll reward you for the hard work.”

You smile thankfully. After bidding Doyoung goodbye, you make your way back into Johnny’s office, grateful to have met someone willing to help you navigate this job. Jaehyun warned you it would be difficult since Johnny was a particular man, to quote your brother, but you’ve handled much worse than a snooty CEO. You’re not one to back down this easily.

You slide the warm cup across his desk. His eyes are shifted downwards, shuffling through mountains of paperwork. He doesn’t glance up at you as he takes his first sip, lips twisting in a grimace. He turns his torso and points out the windows covering the back wall of his office.

“You’ll pick up my coffee order from that shop going forward,” he instructs. You have no idea what location he’s referring to as the view is just out of your eye line, but you make a mental note to check it later.

You nod obediently before taking your clipboard back into your hands, reciting his schedule for the day.

“You have a meeting with the board of directors at ten, a one-on-one with the CFO of Kim Enterprises at eleven, lunch at twelve, and back-to-back meetings regarding the Baek acquisition after lunch,” you say, handing him the sheet from your clipboard. He takes it roughly, sighing as he glances over it. “Here are the morning reports as well. Anything particular you’re craving for today?”

He regards you carefully, and you squirm underneath his judging gaze.

“You’re Jaehyun’s sister, is that correct?”

You swallow. “Yes, sir.”

He says nothing else in relation to the topic. “A sandwich from the Kim’s shop down the street will be just fine.”

“Yes, sir.”

—

After a few weeks of trial and tribulations, you can safely say you have found your footing as Johnny Suh’s assistant.

He is particular, yes, but you can see now that it is only due to the success of the business. When sitting by his side during his meetings to take notes, you’ve noticed how fast he is to shut down any propositions that seem like a waste of time and only approve ideas that are carefully constructed and thought out. Employees appear to equally fear and respect him, which Johnny was well aware of.

You can’t quite tell if he’s pleased with your work, but he hasn’t issued any complaints since the first day you joined. You ensure a cup of warm coffee from Min’s Market is on his desk every morning and a warm sandwich from the Kim’s is delivered to him by lunch. You made an effort to reorganize the filing system his prior assistant had tried to keep up with, which made both your and Johnny’s day easier whenever you needed to access an important document. You have his work schedule texted to his phone every morning instead of using the old paper route, which you find a lot more efficient, yet unsure if Johnny expresses the same sentiment.

It’s conflicting. You feel as if you’re doing a good job but your boss makes no effort to display praise. The only thing you keep reminding yourself of is Doyoung’s comment about resilience, and how you can expect Johnny to reward you in due time.

A call of your name disrupts your typing on your computer, and you’re quick to rise on your feet as you enter Johnny’s office.

“Yes, sir?”

“Ten just called me on my personal line. Make arrangements in my schedule for me to meet him today.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, writing down the instructions on your clipboard. “Anything else I can do for you?”

He pauses, staring at you thoughtfully. You hate it when he does this because you can never read what’s swimming in his head.

“You’re going to Jaehyun’s engagement party, I assume?”

You were ecstatic when your brother called with the news a week ago. He had known Miyeon since university and they stayed together through all the hectic chaos of Jaehyun’s career. He told you they were holding a small party at their penthouse this Sunday, and you were happy to attend in celebration.

You smile and nod. “Yes, I’ll be there, sir.”

He bobs his head once before waving his hand, dismissing you. You leave in confusion, but that was a normal emotion you felt around Johnny nowadays. You return to your desk and pull up his schedule, locating an empty slot for his meeting with Ten.

“How are you holding up, champ?”

You laugh when Doyoung approaches your desk, twirling a pen in his fingers. He’s made it a habit to check up on you every now and then. Another tidbit you learned when you began working here is that most people did not envy you for your position as Johnny’s assistant. If anything, they pitied you. Doyoung told you bets had been made around the office for when you would quit, to which you replied, “He’s not that bad.”

Doyoung chuckled and said, “Give it a few more weeks.”

Ever since then, he’s been spying on you for the rest of the employees, trying to see when your resolve would crumble.

“I’m still here, Doyoung,” you reply to his question, raising an eyebrow.

He grins. “That you are. Still having a hard time reading him?”

“Who doesn’t?”

He snickers. “Well, if it lifts your spirits at all, we’re heading out for drinks this weekend to take the edge off. Come and join us.”

You normally decline such an invitation as your weekends are reserved for catching up on some much needed rest. However, now that you’ve gotten a solid grasp on Johnny’s workload, you feel like a night of alcohol is exactly what you crave to wind down.

“You know what, I’ll be there.”

His grin stretches wider, and he’s about to speak again before another voice startles you.

“Mr. Kim, what are you doing?” Johnny’s stern voice asks, standing in the doorway of his office. He scrutinizes the both of you and your shoulders tense.

Doyoung scrambles. “M-Mr. Suh! I was just speaking with-“

“I can see that,” he cuts off Doyoung. Johnny narrows his eyes. “Is there a reason you’ve decided to interrupt my assistant’s work for mindless fodder about after-work events?”

“N-No-“

“It’s best if you return to your desk now, hm?”

Doyoung nods frantically, tail tucked between his legs as he nearly sprints out of the room. Johnny turns his attention to you, lips flattened in a straight line.

“I expect you not to waste time by flirting with other members of the work staff.”

Before you can protest, he’s walking back into his office, slamming the door behind him. You slouch in your chair, scoffing at his behavior.

What was his problem?

—

“I like this drink! Do you think they have tiny umbrellas behind the bar? It’ll make me feel like my life isn’t in shambles!”

You giggle at Joohyun, who is rambling loudly in your ear. It’s evident she’s had her fair share of drinks but she shows no signs of stopping.

You’re grateful Doyoung invited you to this outing because it feels like you can finally get to know your other co-workers without the walls of Johnny’s office blocking you. You feel light for the first time in weeks, and you’re not certain if it’s from the alcohol coursing through your veins or the absence of your ill-mannered boss. Either way, you’re reveling in it.

“Alright, truth or dare?”

You giggle, nearly spilling the shot of vodka in your hands. “Are you kidding me? How old are we?”

“Don’t be a sourpuss,” Doyoung says, nearly throwing his straw at you from across the table. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm, truth!”

“Boo,” Donghyuck from the marketing department yells. You pretend to throw your drink in his face and he ducks, making the whole table erupt with laughter.

“Okay, okay!” Sooyoung snickers. “Would you rather be an accomplice to a high profile murder case or fuck up Johnny’s coffee order?”

You shudder at the thought of delivering the wrong coffee to your boss, and the table is in hysterics over your expression.

“Definitely not the last one! He’ll have my head!”

The rest of the night is a blur, filled with more ridiculous dares from Donghyuck and silly questions from Sooyoung. You all part ways in the dead of the night, stumbling into taxi cabs as you wave goodbye. You elect to walk home since your apartment isn’t located too far from the bar. You shiver as the night chill nips at your arms.

You pass by another dimly lit nightclub, thrumming loudly with the sound of the bass. You know you shouldn’t, but you don’t want this night to end and crush the happy feeling in your chest. It’s the first time since university you haven’t had to worry about bills or how much the drinks of the night cost, and it spurs on your temporary foolish behavior. You enter the dodgy nightclub, convincing yourself that one more drink can’t hurt you.

The area is packed with people, namely older men with large builds and tattoos covering their forearms. You flag down a bartender.

“Hey, what’s going on tonight?” You yell over the sound of the music.

“Big fight downstairs,” he says, pointing to a staircase to the left of the bar. “Drinks down there are free for the ladies!”

Your eyebrows raise, and against your better judgment, your feet find themselves moving down the creaky staircase. The music dies down when you finally make it to the bottom, instead being filled with loud chatter from the bulky men around you.

“You’re insane if you think a newbie is going to come along and take out The Destroyer! He’s undefeated, you idiot!”

“All the greats have to fall sometime. Just watch and see!”

You make your way to the bar, which is a little more tattered and ruined than the one upstairs. The bartender’s eyes widen at the sight of you, which befuddles you until he asks, “Fan of The Destroyer?”

“Who?”

Three loud clanging sounds of a bell echo around the room, silencing the chatter. A man in a crisp tailored suit walks out, microphone in his hand. The crowd of people suddenly shuffle around until an empty square is left in the middle of the room.

“Welcome, everyone!” The man in the suit greets, the curve of his lips twisted into a smirk. “We have a great show for you tonight! For anyone looking to place their last minute bets, please locate Mr. Kim by the bar. Trust me, you won’t want to miss a fight this good!” The statement has the mass hollering while you look on in confusion. “Tonight, we have Payback in the left corner here.” The rallies grow louder as a young, lanky man comes forward, raising his fists in the air and encouraging the crowd. He stands to the left of the announcer, bouncing on the balls of his feet animatedly. “And in the right corner, we have the fan favorite, the undefeated, the legendary Destroyer!”

Your body locks up, breath caught in your throat while the room erupts in a deafening applause. Your hand covers your mouth in shock because the man who walks out, hands wrapped in red tape with his torso completely exposed, is none other than Johnny.

You nearly collapse into the bar from surprise, but the bartender reads your body language as something else.

“Incredible, isn’t he?” He says into your ear. “How much do you have on him tonight?”

You fail to respond, your mind whirling into a frenzy. There’s no possible way this could be Johnny — it had to be his long lost twin brother or you could be seeing it all wrong. From this angle though, it looks exactly like your boss, even as he wears nothing but a pair of baggy shorts hugging his waist. Your eyes drink in the litter of tattoos covering his chest, tattoos that are hidden in the daylight with his blazers and button-up shirts.

The announcer says a few more words that go completely over your head before ringing the bell, signaling the start of the fight.

You should go home. You should go home and pretend you never saw any of this. Staying here only implicates you, and you can’t imagine what Johnny would do to you if he found out you knew about his underground secret. You need this job, and staying here increases the chances of you losing it, so why can’t you move? Why can’t you pry your gaze away from the ripple in Johnny’s muscles as he lands the first blow, nearly knocking his opponent to the ground? Why does your throat go dry when he delivers punch after punch, eyes blazed with fury as blood begins running down the other man’s nose? Why do you stay rooted in place when the announcer declares Johnny’s victory, raising his arm high as the crowd cheers?

Then, he sees you.

His eyes lock with yours across the room, his victorious expression falling and shifting into something more grim.

That’s when you run. You sprint up the stairs and out of the bar, legs aching before you finally make it back to your apartment, shutting the front door and sliding your back down until you hit the floor.

What the fuck were you going to do now?

—

“Thank you all for joining us. This engagement is long overdue, and I’m grateful to Miyeon for sticking by my side even though I never deserved it,” your brother says, which causes Miyeon to bump his hip with hers jokingly. Guests chuckle at the small show of affection. “Please enjoy yourselves tonight and look forward to a Jeong wedding in the new year!”

Applause ensues, jilting you out of your reverie. You slowly clap with everyone else, trying your best to put on a smile.

You’ve been on edge since you walked into this party, and it’s all because of your idiotic actions from the night before. You contemplated showing up after being caught in the act at Johnny’s secret fight, but you knew it would be obvious if you missed your brother’s engagement party. Even though Johnny was here, you were determined to attend, albeit you having to avoid him like the plague.

In all fairness, you were succeeding thus far. You keep yourself on the opposite end of the room from him, never sparing a glance in his direction although you could feel his eyes on you during sporadic times in the night. Your plan is to leave at a time that wouldn’t raise any questions and go into work tomorrow and pretend you were never at the club that night. You hope Johnny would do the same.

For the sake of your job, you really really hope he would do the same.

You’re in the middle of assessing the charcuterie board, eyeing the various fancy cheeses. It’s just like Jaehyun to make this small party as extravagant as he could, knowing it would make no dent in his bank account. All the food is being carried around by various waiters walking around the floor to offer it to the guests.

“Having trouble making a choice?”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You slowly spin around to see Johnny behind you, one hand stuffed into his pocket while the other holds a flute of champagne. He’s wearing a more casual manner of dress, a silk burgundy button-up paired with baggy slacks. It makes his legs look longer and you swallow as he towers over you.

“S-Sir-“

“Johnny!” You’ve never been more grateful to your brother than at this moment. He approaches the both of you with a smile, clapping a hand over Johnny’s shoulder. “How’s my little sister doing as your assistant?”

Your hands twist around your back nervously. Johnny slips into a smooth, easygoing smile.

“She’s doing fantastic. I was actually coming over to tell her just that, especially since she’s the one carrying all of my secrets to the grave.”

Your heart thumps louder in your chest while Jaehyun laughs, taking Johnny’s statement as a joke even though you know better. Johnny’s eyes analyze you carefully, the dark halo in his orbs making you quake in your heels.

“And how about you, dear sister? How’s the scary boss holding up?”

You throw your brother a tight grin. “He’s wonderful, Jae. No complaints here.”

Jaehyun nods, pleased by your progress before excusing himself to mingle. He leaves you alone with Johnny, who stares at you like a predator assessing his prey. You’re about to bring up a comment about the weather before he says, “Pretty girls like you shouldn’t be lurking on the wrong side of town.”

A shiver shoots down your spine. “I-I live on that side of town.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t pay you enough then.”

You exhale, certain he can hear the loud ringing of your heartbeat in your ears. He sets his champagne glass down on a nearby table before grabbing a bite-sized quiche, holding it out to you.

“I’m okay,” you decline and he hums, placing the treat in his mouth for himself. You can’t help the way your eyes linger on how his fingers graze his tongue, licking off any spare crumbs. You think about how those same fingers were pummeling into a poor stranger the night before. How the fire in his eyes couldn’t be tamed by the outcry of his fans.

You picture the same angry Destroyer hovering over you in bed, telling you exactly what he plans to do to you while his fingers wrap around your throat.

His mouth twists into a smirk and you shake yourself out of your daydream. He flags over another man and they shake hands, laughing as they exchange greetings.

“This is my assistant,” Johnny says, turning his attention to you as he offers your name. “She has big aspirations to work for a publishing company after she gets tired of me. Maybe Ahn Books has an opening?”

Mr. Ahn shakes your hand, telling you how lovely it is to meet you, but your eyes can only focus on Johnny. He’s staring at you with a knowing look in his eye and it takes you by surprise.

Was this a bribe to keep quiet about what you saw?

“Any worker who can handle Johnny is certainly a star in my books,” Mr. Ahn chuckles. “Let me know when this one starts getting on your nerves.”

You laugh anxiously and nod. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Ahn.”

Johnny gives you one last look. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He doesn’t provide an opportunity for you to respond, throwing an arm around Mr. Ahn and guiding him away into the crowd.

You release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

—

Johnny wants to fuck his assistant.

It’s plain and simple, but it’s very much against his wishes. When Jaehyun approached him with the ask to hire his sister, he didn’t hesitate to grant his friend the favor. He had known Jaehyun since they worked at their first company together out of college, and although Johnny had never met you, he figured you would be a good worker if Jaehyun vouched for you. Plus, his last assistant had just quit from being too “overworked.” Johnny thinks they weren’t trying hard enough.

You were pretty, way too pretty to be somebody’s assistant. You deserved to be the main attraction and Johnny is ashamed to admit he’s definitely salivated over the tight pencil skirts you’re always wearing around the office.

He convinces himself to put aside his own selfish desires considering you’re one of the best assistants he’s had in years. You’re incredibly organized and after he warns you once concerning something important, you ensure not to do it again. The only big thing that irritates him is how everyone in this office is clear about their desire to fuck you but you’re wildly oblivious to all of it. Do you really think Kim Doyoung comes to talk to you because he’s friendly?

It fuels him with jealousy and he’s not normally a jealous guy. And Christ, when he saw you in the crowd of his fight, blinking at him warily like a deer caught in the headlights, his heart stopped in his chest. He never intended on letting anyone know of his after-work activity, considering it was inappropriate for a man of his status to be engaged in such a violent act.

When Johnny first got into underground fighting, he had simply been a watcher. He was introduced to the scene by an old colleague and it intrigued him to observe random strangers beat the living shit out of each other for pure sport. He had practiced boxing growing up and the idea of finally discovering a place where he could put those skills to use drew him in. Most of the time, it gave him a spike of adrenaline when he won a match. It normally never gave him gratification to send his opponent home covered in blood, but he kept going because of the reputation he was building for himself.

And seeing you there, watching him win another match and once again being declared undefeated, it makes him feel... proud. Almost like he craves to prove himself to you, to demonstrate that he’s the kind of man that can take care of you.

He’s crossing a clear boundary line but his impulse to have you is overtaking the coherent part of his brain.

So when you walk in on Monday morning and squeak out a “Good morning, sir,” he swallows the need to bend you over his desk.

He greets you with a gruff “Good morning,” which has your eyebrows raising at the response. He normally ignores your attempts at chitchat, especially when it’s this early.

“I texted your schedule to you for today and I have your morning reports here,” you say as you slide over a stack of papers to him. “Can I get you anything else?”

You. Under the desk. On the desk. In the chair. Against the window.

“No, that will be all.”

You move to exit the room, pausing when your hand rests on the handle of the door.

“I-I just want you to know I haven’t told anyone about what I saw this weekend,” you murmur.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies frankly.

It’s true — he thought about it after leaving the nightclub on Saturday, and he wouldn’t be opposed if you went and told the rest of the work staff. Some sick part of him would actually be smug at the idea of you bragging about his wins to the other employees who so clearly want a taste of you.

“Oh,” you say, slightly startled. “Well, I still won’t tell. It’s your private business, after all. I shouldn’t have even been there in the first place.”

The nagging voice in the back of his head grows louder, desperate to learn what you think of him. “Did you hear what they were saying? How they were betting on The Destroyer?”

You squirm in your spot. “They said you were undefeated, that the newbie didn’t stand a chance.”

He wonders if you’re scared of him, frightened not only by his savage blows but his evident power over you. You must think that he intends to blackmail you to keep his secret, but he could care less what you choose to do.

All he wants is for you to feel the same way he does. He wants you to battle this warmth in your chest, to panic as your mind goes blank when you see him. And he can’t have any of that while you’re his assistant, working under him despite how much he would prefer you directly underneath him.

It’s why he introduced you to Mr. Ahn, an old family friend who owned one of the largest publishing companies in the country. Jaehyun mentioned to Johnny that your real passion was in writing, but the lack of funds drove you to your current spot. Johnny hates that your dreams were crushed because of something as trivial as money, which he carried an abundance of. He would fund your first book in a heartbeat if you asked, but he knows you well enough to understand your pride would never allow you to be indebted to him. He figures a job with Mr. Ahn would be more digestible for you, and it would provide him an opening to make his move.

“Do you ever get worried?” You ask him, chewing on your lower lip. “You could get seriously hurt fighting like that.”

An ache blooms in his chest. Do you care about him getting injured?

“I haven’t been hurt since I started fighting,” he shares with you. “I don’t give them a chance to get their hands anywhere near me.”

You swallow and he wrings his hands together under his desk. Does that turn you on? His office walls aren’t soundproof, but he could lock the door and throw a hand over your mouth to conceal your moans. His cock twitches in his trousers at the thought.

His fantasy shatters when you finally crack open the door.

“I’ll order a sandwich from the Kim’s for your lunch today, sir.”

“Why don’t you make it two and join me?”

You stutter. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Join me for lunch. I could use another pair of eyes on these awful spreadsheets.”

“O-Okay.”

—

Johnny is playing with fire.

He’s very aware of this, yet he can’t seem to stop himself. You’ve eaten lunch together everyday for the past two weeks, munching quietly in his office while he divulges his reasoning to you behind budget cuts and expansion decisions. In the beginning, you would nod and listen patiently. After his encouragement to speak up and voice your opinion, you slowly started coming out of your shell around him.

And he’s very well informed of what the office thinks about your private time together. Last week, he overhears Doyoung mumble to you, “You and the boss are getting close.”

A grin stretches from ear to ear on his face when he listens to your response.

“Oh, I guess we have. He’s been really sweet with me.”

An envious scoff from Doyoung is enough to make Johnny’s entire day.

Late that Friday, you both stay overtime in order to complete the documents required for the Baek acquisition that Johnny has to present to the board of directors on Monday. He insists that you finish your tasks in his office to be more efficient, although the real reason is that he wants to look at your legs while you work.

He watches as you roll your neck, humming when you finally hear the familiar snapping sound.

“Maybe we should call it a night,” Johnny sighs, tired of staring at you for hours without being able to discover what’s hidden beneath that skirt of yours.

You frown. “But we’re only on the seventh page.”

“I’m starting to think you enjoy this work more than I do,” he says with a smirk.

You look down bashfully, avoiding his gaze. “I just don’t think you’ll be ready by Monday if we call it quits.”

“Let me worry about that, hm? I’ll drive you home.”

Your head whips up. “Oh, sir, I couldn’t let you-“

“I want to,” he says firmly.

You smile softly and nod. The two of you pack up the rest of your things, with Johnny storing the paperwork in his briefcase to review for later. He escorts you down to the parking garage and you pile into his vehicle. He observes as you admire the sleek interior, and he’s conscious of the fact that the cost of this car could likely pay your rent for five years. He really does want to offer you a raise to get you into a better apartment in a more decent side of town, but he’s certain you would interpret the gesture as a bribe rather than an act of kindness.

As the vehicle merges onto the busy city road, you pipe up from the passenger seat.

“Are you fighting this weekend?”

The question startles him. You haven’t spoken about his fighting since the moment you told him you would keep his secret.

“Every Saturday,” he replies, sneaking a quick glance over at you.

You have a nervous expression painted on your face. He opens his mouth to ask why before you speak up again.

“Will you be careful?”

The car halts at a red light, and he uses the spare time to fully look at you. You stare back at him, your eyes filled with concern.

It’s completely inappropriate and out of line, but his hand reaches over the dashboard to grab yours. He raises the back of your palm to his mouth, lips brushing over your knuckles. The intimate gesture has you staggering your breath.

“I promise.”

Your words rattle around in his head the following day. He usually doesn’t need any words of encouragement before a fight, his music playlist being enough to boost his spirits. This time, however, he thinks about you tucked away in his car. He pictures your pretty face when he kissed your hand, how your eyes darted away from his in embarrassment.

You’re the reason why he walks into the crowd with a mission, clapping his hands together as he faces his mediocre opponent. When the bell rings, he doesn’t pull his punches as he strikes the first jab into the other man’s face. You’ve awakened something in him and the crowd’s cheers grow louder when he lands blow after blow. It isn’t long before his challenger is stumbling across the floor, falling on his back after Johnny delivers the final thwack against his abdomen.

A hand wraps around his arm and holds it high in the air. The announcer declares his victory, once again proclaiming him undefeated. The roars of the crowd fill his eardrums, but the only person he can think about is you.

His body moves before his mind can convince him otherwise, getting dressed and gathering his things as quickly as possible before exiting the nightclub. He nearly breaks into a sprint in the chilly night air, reaching your apartment within minutes.

When you open the door, your jaw drops open at the sight of him.

“Johnny-“

His hands cup your cheeks, pushing your body backwards until you hit the wall. His nose brushes against yours and your breath hitches, hands reaching up to curl around his wrists.

“Tell me I should stop,” he whispers against your lips. “Tell me I’m crossing a line and I need to walk out that door and never come back.”

He watches your chest rise and fall with each passing breath. Your expression crumbles before you press forward, locking your lips with his.

A frenzy ensues. He shuts the door to your apartment forcefully, almost rattling it off of its hinges. His tongue slips into your waiting mouth, fingers gripping your waist tightly. You’re whimpering against him, basking in the sweat and tanned muscles from his win.

“Sir-“

“Fuck,” he hisses, pushing his body against yours. You whine when you can feel his hardened member against the fabric of your shorts. “Do you know how much it turns me on whenever you call me that? Always parading around in these fucking tight skirts, calling me sir — you’re practically begging me to stretch you open.”

You pant. “I want you to. I really really want you to.”

You both clumsily move to undress the other, with Johnny’s fingers pulling down your shorts and your hands lifting up his shirt. There’s a little dried blood on his torso as evidence from the fight.

“Sorry, I didn’t shower before I came and-“

“Did you win?”

A pause. “Of course I won.”

Then your lips are on his, tongues swirling together. The kiss is sloppy with the two of you mouthing at one another, desperate to grasp at any physical contact you can. You squeak in surprise when Johnny lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before pinning you against the wall.

He trails kisses down your neck, ripping your old university t-shirt in half and discarding it on the floor. Your sports bra follows after, and he gives you no time to complain before he takes your right nipple into his mouth, licking wildly. He shifts his attention between each breast, fingers flicking at the peaked bud if he neglects one for too long.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, whimpering softly.

“S-Sir-“

“Need me inside you?” He murmurs against your skin. “You’re so fucking tempting.”

“Please,” you beg, tugging at the strands of his silky brown locks. “I need you so badly.”

He’s quick to release his cock from the confines of his shorts, tip red and leaking. You whine when you see the evidence of his arousal. Johnny knows he’s bigger than most so he moves your panties to the side and runs a finger through your folds. He groans when he feels you practically dripping onto his palm.

“You really do need me badly, hm?” He remarks with a smug grin. “Tell me what’s gotten you so wet, baby.”

“Y-You,” you choke out. “Ever since I saw you fighting as The Destroyer, I-“

Your words are cut off by a piercing scream when the tip of his cock slides into you. He takes your arms and wraps them around his neck, stabilizing you as he cups his hands around your ass, rutting up into you. He can tell you’re marveling at his strength — his ability to lift you like you weigh nothing. He holds you close as his hips piston deep into your cunt.

“Look at what you do to me,” he bites in a venomous tone. “I can’t think properly when I’m around you. Want to bend you over my desk and let the whole office hear you sing for me.” Another sharp thrust has you tightening your hold around his neck, and he takes the opportunity to dangle your legs over his elbows. The angle fully allows him to fuck you perfectly, balancing you in his arms as he watches his cock disappear in and out of your weeping pussy. All you can do is hang onto him for dear life and take it. “Maybe I should invite Doyoung to come watch us. He’s always fucking chasing after you anyways.”

You unravel around him at a breakneck speed, pushed over the edge by the idea of him claiming you for all of your co-workers to see. He grunts when he feels you clench around him, offering a few more thrusts before he’s following suit. You whimper when he releases inside of you, painting your walls with his cum.

He finally sets you back down on the ground carefully, chuckling when your shaky legs cause you to stumble into him.

“Shut up,” you mumble bashfully, hitting his arm.

He kisses you again, hands resting on your lower back. “Do you think you’d be up for another round?” He whispers, eyeing his cum running down your thighs.

“I think you’re crazy,” you reply, which brings forward another bubble of laughter from him. You draw circles over his arm, admiring the swell of his muscles. Your voice shifts into something softer and lighter. “What are we going to do?”

He brushes his lips over your forehead. “I’ll figure it out. Just let me take care of you, hm?”

You giggle when he scoops you into his arms and carries you into the bedroom bridal style, preparing himself to make you moan for him all night.

—

Weeks after your passionate night with Johnny, you reach out to Mr. Ahn to see if there’s an opening at Ahn Books.

He offers a position as a junior editor and you accept it happily, eager to finally begin your career in the writing world. When you announce your departure from Johnny’s company, you’re surprised by the outpour of love you receive. All of the colleagues you spent a fun night out with bring you various flowers and stuffed animals, requesting for you to stay in touch. Johnny isn’t shocked in the slightest, huffing to himself as he tells you that they’re all in love with you. You simply roll your eyes at his jealousy.

At first, you kept your relationship with Johnny a secret in fear that people would assume you slept your way to the top. It proved extremely difficult to keep your boyfriend’s hands off of you, however. He ached to be near you at all times of the day, and you’re ashamed to admit your last two weeks in the office were mainly spent on your knees or bent over his desk.

“Ungh!”

A hand pushes on your lower back, arching your spine. Fingers tangle in your hair and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“What do you expect me to do now, hm? How am I supposed to get my fill of this pussy everyday when it’s across town?”

A smack echoes throughout the room when his hand collides with your ass and you bite down on your palm to prevent the mewls from releasing. No matter how many times you warn Johnny that the staff outside could definitely hear you two, he never holds himself back. There could be articles written the next day about the CEO fucking employees in his office and he wouldn’t bat an eye. His only focus is you, how you feel around him, how fast he can get you to whine for him.

One particular push of his hips has you reeling, gasping as you clench around him. He groans when he feels your climax hit, sending him tumbling over the edge before his warm seed fills you.

“Johnny,” you scold, reaching back to hit him lightly. “You know I stopped taking my birth control.”

“I’m aware, baby. Why do you think we’re moving in together?”

You scoff. You were initially opposed to the idea, but Johnny somehow convinced you that it would be much easier for you to move into his million dollar house and let him drive you to work every morning. There were no downsides to his proposal, truth be told, but you didn’t want to make it seem like you were using him for his bank account. He asked if he could fuck your throat to call it even, and you agreed.

He sits back down in his chair, pulling you onto his lap. Various papers and pens are scattered across the floor from the aftermath of your intimacy.

“It’s going to be a really good thing for you that I’m leaving,” you say, massaging the back of his neck as he licks at your collarbone. His cock is still seated deep inside you. “You haven’t been productive at work in weeks.”

“It’s the job for the next assistant,” he says dismissively. “Let’s go out tonight in celebration?”

“Okay,” you hum in contentment. “I really do want to thank you, you know. I was about to hit rock bottom before I started working for you.”

“No need to thank me, baby. I would do anything for you. As long as you keep supporting The Destroyer, I’m happy.”

You frown. “I’ll only keep supporting you if you remain undefeated. I’d hate to see you seriously injured.”

He laughs at the idea, as if the thought of anyone taking his championship title is unbelievable. He squeezes your hips and slowly begins to rock you back and forth on his cock, and you whine when you realize he’s growing hard again.

“Don’t be silly. No one has a chance against me.”

“D-Do you think we need to tell Jaehyun about us?”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s the job for the next assistant.”

Then he throws you over his desk once more, grunting as he claims your body until the sun sets over the horizon.

this fic was posted for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!